Thursday, July 10:
“Who trusts in joys builds on a rainbow”: this line by Freidank, quoted to me by R., accompanies us cheerfully through the whole day.
R. works, I occupy myself with the children and write letters left and right, among others to E. Ollivier.
In the afternoon we drive to the Eremitage, set the fountains going, a great enjoyment for the children, a bit tiring for us; thoughts of Frederick the Great are with us throughout. R. is delighted with Fidi and says: “All this happiness gained through you! And the people who imagine that something of the past must still remain in me, my relations with Minna or the various M-Ms” (thus he dubs his relationships with women!) “It is all unreal, I remember nothing of it.”
We catch sight of the theater in the distance, standing imposingly in the beautiful sunshine. It makes a great and fine impression.
In the evening R. goes to the Thursday gathering; opposite, near the Ruckriegel, a melody by Mozart arises from it, like a palm tree in a swamp, and I am gripped and moved, however miserably it is being played; at the conclusion Elsa’s bridal procession appears like a captive princess in this vulgar triumphal parade, sad and touching. If her distorted countenance should touch any heart, even if only my own, which recognizes and responds to the fettered maiden, then her chains will be turned into the heavenly bands which unite and redeem us all! Longing for R.!