Tuesday, January 4:
We go to bed and wake up with worries; R. recently drew up a balance sheet for the past year, how much bad, how little good: Fürstner, Voltz, Batz, the press after the rehearsals, Richter, the experiences in Vienna, Scaria, now Käthchen König! This malicious woman’s threats hang over my head like a sword of Damocles, a repetition of the Schnorr experience. Let her but come into contact with the most insignificant of scribblers, and he will take pleasure in stirring up mud to throw at us; it seems to be assumed that I am valuable and useful to R., and probably that is the reason why they drag me into everything. How easily I could accept it on my own account, if it were not for the feeling that it is all in fact directed against the Bayreuth undertaking!
In the afternoon Herr Feustel comes to speak to me; he is in low spirits. The advance has not arrived from the treasury, and he has been unable to pay Herr Brandt. A letter from Frau v. Schl. shows me that R.’s letter to the Prince has had no effect at all. She and Bucher are thinking about approaching the Reichstag. Alas, the dominating spirit there is Herr Lasker.
In the evening read As You Like It, after discussing all the bad news with R.; the lowest of spirits must yield to this divine humor.