Tuesday, April 11:
R. had a good night, but he is not well, and his indisposition gets so bad that he avoids going out and wishes to be left alone. I go with the children to look at the Antonellos, then accompany Fidi into some churches; R. takes a walk to the cathedral square, which pleases him very much. Our lunch is uncomfortable, and after it R. feels very indisposed and cannot make up his mind whether to go out or not; after a few changes of mind we decide to remain at home. R. reads some Turgenev stories and is particularly affected by one about a lame woman, since he is reading it at a time when he himself must avoid movement as much as possible. We spend the evening alone together; I have begun reading Sophocles's Philoctetes with the children, and I talk about it to R. But Faust remains our principal topic. At lunch the day before yesterday R. said he could not really understand why, after depicting Faust's shattering experience with Gretchen and intending to have Faust redeemed by Gretchen, [Goethe] then leads him through all these inappropriate happenings, leaving him at the end with such a paltry field of activity. With considerable clumsiness I indicate that this seems rather fine; for a moment he is annoyed, but his view of the nature of Faust does not prevent his showing the utmost admiration for the way the plan is carried out. He reads the scenes with the Emperor, I likewise, and we admire the original and popular style in which it is all expressed. The character of the Emperor is so striking in its combination of weakness and integrity. He observes that it is still a little-known book, but the book! Recalling Schiller's Die Braut von Messina, R. says: "One shouldn't hide dignity behind a mask; if it does not arise naturally out of the prevailing culture, as among the Greeks, where every appeal to the gods has so awesome an effect, one should leave it alone."