Sunday, August 20:
Bechstein sends the portrait of Tausig. Referring to the change which took place in our friend, R. says, “There are so many people who give the impression of being geniuses in their youth and who never in fact achieve intellectual puberty.” He continues: “I remember that when I was at Dresden I told Roeckel that I hoped to have written all my works before I was forty; I assumed that the sexual urge, with which all productivity is connected, would last until then. Roeckel laughed at me and said I might assume that about Rossini, but with me it was quite different.” Then he adds sadly: “But with age comes sorrow; the kaleidoscope of life is no longer so fascinating, one no longer expects miracles; this phase has to be overcome, to allow the serenity of old age to emerge.”
Visit from Frau von Abaza from St. Petersburg, a good and robust German character who tells R. many kind things about me. A gentleman from the Wagner committee in Vienna was also here. In the afternoon I visit Countess Ugarte; she wishes to take up a certificate of patronage for her daughter.
In the evening R. plays passages from Oberon, which we find very charming. “It breathes loyalty and faith, and that is the important thing, whether one is true to oneself or deceives oneself.”
When I am already in bed, R. comes to me and says he cannot bear to see me so sorrowful. He talks to me for a long time, saying things beautiful, profound, and good; he weeps bitterly, and I gently. I could have no idea, he says, how utterly he belongs to me, how much he loves me; that is the only thing that distresses him. I lie awake for a long time and pray to God.