Saturday, January 23:
Very bad night; no sleep at all and anxiety over the children. I do not get up. R. comes, tells me about a letter from Weber (the publisher), who feels that the time is now right for the appearance of Judaism in Music. In good spirits about that. Then a letter from a Germano-Frenchman saying that there is talk in Paris of R.’s imminent arrival for Rienzi.
I stay lying in bed the whole of the morning, very weak and with constant feelings of constriction in my heart. An Italian newspaper reports on the fight over the Lohengrin Prelude during Pasdeloup’s concert. The Jews again.
By lunch I am well once more; our conversation concerns yesterday’s reading. Comparison with Aeschylus’s Agamemnon, in which, as R. says, the choruses soften everything and give it a musical transfiguration, as it were, whereas in Shakespeare everything is spread before us and stays naked and terrifying. Beside it all other poetic works seem like divine lullabies; here it is as if Fate itself had removed its veil to appear before our mortal eyes.
After lunch a communication from Hans; the Signale has printed a biography of him in which it is stated that when Hans was a young man Wagner had befriended him and cared for him like a father, while his own family left him penniless. This seems to have hurt Hans. How petty! I ask R. to write a correction at once in a proper tone of calm, which he then does, sending the draft to Hans.
The weather is cold but fine; it does R. good, as one can see. I play games in the Froebel manner with the children, and Eva shows much intelligence.
In the evening R. brings a letter from Mme Laussot to him: she will procure for him the manuscripts he needs for the edition of his works. After tea, conclusion of Henry VI, Part II and beginning of Part III.
Today R. gave me great joy when he told me that he was now so unwilling to write letters because he had resolved to complete his Siegfried.