Tuesday, December 13:
Richter sends Loldi to me with a very appreciative article about Beethoven, but R. does not want it read aloud; he says, “I am content to know that I have not been trampled into the dust and that I am not being talked about as if I were a charlatan; but to hear my praises sung is horrible to me.” He sends off, as requested, an autograph for associations for the wounded. He had been asked for Meistersinger songs; he writes a quotation from Lohengrin, “Ne’er shall the foe venture from his barren East,” but alters this into “windy West”! and then adds, “As a change from Die Wacht am Rhein.”
In the evening R. is very worn out; he complains that thinking about his work robs him of so much time. I told him today that we should have ourselves photographed, I kneeling before him, for this is my rightful position—it would be a family heirloom. He says that since having my portrait he wants no other possessions. (Letter to Lenbach.) In the evening Calderon’s Los dos amantes del cielo; a little perturbed about the baldachins, the emeralds, etc. (Fidi very restless; I am anxious about him, since he fell off a chair yesterday.) Loulou writes to her grandmother.