To church with the children; afterward hid the eggs in the house. R. takes another bath, after doing some work. ‘T shan’t be really healthy until I am rid of this ‘Kauder[1],’ ” he says. “By that I mean Der Ring des Nibelungen.” — Chatting from afternoon till evening with the children, who are making themselves masks. — R. says, “I shan’t write another score until Fidi is able to orchestrate it for me.” —
In the evening Ollivier’s book, which has been sent to me, about Lamartine and his nonelection to the Academy. Early to bed. —
Today R. was pleased with my bust and said, “It is pleasure of a different kind from your presence; when I gaze on you, feelings are always involved, but here, looking at this bust, it is the idea which dominates.” He is also pleased with Kietz’s[2] bust of himself. “I want to be happy,” he says, “another twenty years.” —
Early this morning we heard the hymn being played from the church tower, and R. played me the “Pilgrims’ Chorus.” “Here I should like to see something changed; in the words ‘Alle Welt the ‘Alle’ is too long. At that time I was not very good at handling the various metrical forms, and the false intonation has always embarrassed me.” —
Yesterday some anonymous person sent R. an Easter poem with the remark “If you set this to some good music, I shall reveal who I am.” R. thinks he must be a prince—“Reuss Schleiz Greiz.[3]” —
[1] Kauder: inconvenience, confusion; the word is used for the new chickens, but also for the “ring”.
[2] Gustav Adolph Kietz made Cosima’s bust in the summer of 1873.
[3] Richard making fun of the complicated names of German nobility.