Wednesday, May 22:
The day of days! We wake up at the same time, R. and I, to the sound of bells: “I congratulate myself for having you,” says R. I can say nothing at all, for not even the tenderest of embraces can express what death alone would enable me to say to him. Letter from the King, delivered by a messenger; R. goes off to thank him for it, and during this time we set up our little festival in the hall.
We begin it at 11 o’clock, the good children, in a mood of utter dedication, perform their tasks exactly as I instructed them, the pantomime makes a sublime impression, and not for a moment does their earnestness waver. Many, many tears. “It is the loveliest experience of my life!” R. exclaims. “What is all care compared with such a moment? Oh, what a lovely death it would have been if I had fallen asleep at the end of this celebration!” He asks to be left alone for a while. A lovely, blissful day! “Children, I saw you today in a completely different light!” R. says to the little ones, and to me, “They all came from your womb, that one sees at times like this.”
Then much joking, tales of the winter rehearsals, not a day passing by since the New Year without my doing something for this dear day, my winter blessings. During a pause following the performance R. went into the garden and saw the new carriage; he got in, sent for me, and then we were pulled all over the Wahnfried grounds in it, by the Wolzogens, Seidl, the children, Mrs. Cooper, and the servants!
Many telegrams, among them one from Herr von Hülsen which causes some surprise; many touching signs of devotion: a walk with R. in the palace gardens, we wander around like blessed spirits, then go off to drink beer with the children and the Wolzogens. Some friends in the evening, Parsifal (the first act, from the entrance into the Temple to the end) puts the last sublime crown on a blissful day.