Thursday, July 27:
R. says to me around noon: “Do you know what I have done today? Thrown out everything I did yesterday. Hagen’s call sounded too composed, I did not like it; it had to be altered.” Family lunch; R. says that in the newspapers there are whispers about the King of Bavaria’s ill-mannered attitude toward the Crown Prince, what will come of it?
Walk with R. We are talking about all sorts of things when R. suddenly breaks off to say: “I feel like Kohlhaas, I have heavy thoughts that I shall never be happy and well again. The humiliation of being dependent on this King, it is scandalous and insupportable! If he would only take up a stand, if he had only supported my cause, one could justify both oneself and him. But like this!” The beautiful countryside distracts us a little from these dismal thoughts.
In the evening I continue arranging papers and read aloud passages from the letters to R. Much melancholy in this glance back over the past. Passing the Fontaine de Soif, we talked of Melusina. “Christianity added something very touching to these natural spirits, and it brings to poetry a completely new quality; they are always good, but unredeemed, which makes them so sadly fascinating. Like this water sprite, to whom the parson’s children come to tell her that she cannot be redeemed after all.”
The King has replied to Prince Albert, who asked him to come without fail to the banquet the town is giving in honor of the Crown Prince, “He can fetch his vivats by himself.”