Friday, February 8:
R. works, I have all kinds of things to arrange and put away, much fighting with the dragon. R. sketches out a canon for a domestic symphony, then he writes to the King, describing our life in Tribschen at the time of the Idyll, which he sends to the King as a gift, saying that he is now enjoying the happiest days of his life.
His words move me deeply, and I pray we may be granted a prolongation of them. In the evening we read The Presbyterians with growing pleasure.