Monday, October 28:
“Tolerably well,” R. replies when I ask him how he had slept. Our breakfast conversation is cheerful and harmonious, he goes to his work and tells me, when he comes to fetch me for lunch, “Tomorrow I shall play something to you.” Over coffee we talk about my mother and the bitter experiences she went through, then about mine 10 years ago in October. I don’t know how one manages to survive such things: a kind fate must have been watching over me! R. speaks of his “raging worry,” which induced him to send Claire to me. R. goes out for a little while, I have some things to attend to; when we meet again, he asks me to come up, since he wishes to play something to me and wants my advice. He then plays the prelude to me and shows me the many pages of his preliminary sketches, among them the song for Titurel’s funeral. “To improvise like that, get inspirations - that is not difficult - my difficulty always lies in restraining myself.” Here he has succeeded wonderfully in making his theme stand out against a background of elemental sorrow, and one feels completely at home. Noticing my emotion, R. says, “So it is good - I am glad.” He then tells me that Princess Auguste once compared Kienzi to a rich embroidery. I say that is true of Kienzi, it is like a cloak of gold brocade with flowers, but not of the other works.
In the evening he reads to us the second act of Die Meistersinger, to our great, great joy. And with the words “Another lovely day!” I part from him at the first station, as he calls it, to meet him again immediately at the next!