Wednesday, May 28:
A good night for R. Cheerful breakfast, “the eagle with two heads,” as he says when we both remain in bed. I return some calls by birthday well-wishers while R. writes to the King, and unfortunately I find him somewhat irritable when I get home - he says I should not leave the house. Over coffee he tells me that these letters are always a burden to him, he feels he is not being truthful, and what does one not have to pretend to oneself in order to prove that it is the truth after all? “I have not yet fought clear of it all, magic still dogs my footsteps.”
I am very tired, go to lie down, R. goes into the summerhouse. Later he tells me how he came to my room, saw me sleeping, gazed at me for a long time, and decided that I was looking very worn out. Then, when he returned, he says, he found me gone, and like a little child he cried out, “O meine Mama!” I find his dear handwriting. A stroll with him in the garden, delight in everything! Inspection of the new hens - everything budding and blossoming all around us, we feel united. We think lightheartedly of the Society of Patrons: “What will become of it?” asks R. with a laugh. We then go up to his room, which delights him, and he thanks me for recognizing his tastes and supporting him in them; he says for him they mean abundance, and he owes them to a sort of instinct.
“And I alone am permitted to follow you!” is my reply. The evening which follows this blissful day is no less cheerful. Discussion about masks, following on our “ballet”; R. once actually saw Columbine, Harlequin, and the other figures, which have now disappeared, even in Italy. He also remembers the “greeting” the children sang to him. Recently he said: “Who dares to suggest that I never had a heart? Always, whenever the opportunity arose, I showed it and acted on it.” He then describes again the fine ceremony of the King’s greeting and how well it succeeded. As the evening comes to an end, R. asks me to drink some champagne from the Rembrandt glasses, which he likes. And before night a kiss upon his feet, to set the seal on this day spent lost to the world in single-minded devotion!