Saturday, August 17:
I got up during the night, in the belief that R. was also up, but he was still in bed, and I had the pleasure of smiling with him over my concern. He slept tolerably well, and we begin the day in amiable mood, in spite of Kindschy, who again threw things around last night and today is blowing! “Oh, how lucky I am that I got you!” R. says. “Or, rather, that you existed, for the getting was not so easy.” I: “You forget that I exist only because of you.” Added in margin: “When I chanced to look yesterday at a book now being used by the children and found in it some very melancholy thoughts written down by me in French about 18 years ago, I felt perhaps more clearly than ever before that it is through him that I have lived and am living.” R.: “Oh, rot, there were others existing at the same time as me.”
“But it is nice that we have children; they belong to it, they are the seal on it.” Yesterday he was pleased with Fidi’s meditative expression: “Perhaps there’s not much behind it yet, but it shows his propensities.” In connection with Opera and Drama, for an assessment of which I have drawn up a little plan, I told R. I should like to see a plan prepared for the B. Blätter, in which the basic idea we have received from him might be applied to all spheres — school, house, theater, all the arts; and R. agrees with me.
He is pleased with the simplification of the gods’ serving staff in the Ring, made clear to him through Herr v. W.’s article “Valhalla.” When he leaves me I am glad to see how well he looks. “Yes,” he says, “it’s sorrow that drags one down,” and, with that sudden change from seriousness to humor which is so characteristic of him, he adds with a laugh, “A peach does less damage than deep sorrow” — for the day before yesterday he had eaten a peach. The play of his eyes when this sudden change of mood takes place is wonderful; humor breaks through the melancholy of his expression like a flash of lightning through thundery clouds. He works; when he tells me that he is making slow progress, I observe that his happiness is responsible, and he agrees.
After lunch I visit friend Wolzogen and return home concerned about his health. There is happiness only in Wahnfried; I tell R. that on my return I asked the governess, “Have you seen my husband?” and she replied, “Yes, and he asked me, ‘Have you seen my wife?’ ” R. compares returning to Wahnfried with reaching the sheltering cliffs of Norway. In the evening we read the horrible details of Hodel’s execution. R. intends to express his thoughts on capital punishment in the B. Blätter. Three of the Pringsheims have announced their resignation from the Society!