Saturday, June 24:
Midsummer Day! We begin it in the turret. A pamphlet on the Pope, sent to me by Ollivier, leads us to the unfortunate French habit of haranguing in print, and from there to Mark Antony’s speech over Caesar’s corpse; we are astounded that Shakespeare, having just shown us this emotionally compelling man in all his grief, also has the power to show him as a politician, at this same funeral adopting exactly the tone which is bound to have the greatest impact on the people. We reflect how few people really read Shakespeare, and in this connection think of Nietzsche, whose strange character we sum up by saying that he possessed no real intelligence, but could be magnetized. R. goes through the end of the third act; a telegram from Voltz puts his mind at rest. In the afternoon we drive up to the theater; the transformation scenery for the 3rd act is rehearsed again, and it is decided to repeat the sentimental part of the music. [Enclosed a piece of paper inscribed in Wagner’s handwriting: "Electric telegraph for the beat."] We are very pleased with the Temple of the Grail and its new cupola. Then, over a glass of beer beneath the arbor in Herr Moritz’s garden, it is decided that Amfortas shall be given no special mark as king, that his cloak will be his blanket and his head left bare (only, in the forest, a light silk scarf). R. is very pleasantly affected by the way things are gradually emerging and by the decision. After returning home we sit in the garden, where we also have supper. Unfortunately R. learns that a Herr Strauss, who is connected with some of the most distressing memories of our life in Munich, is to take part in the performances. This throws him into a fury, which dies down, however, when he hears how zealous Strauss has been in the interests of Parsifal. Voltz. [this name obliterated by an unknown hand and replaced by "Something else"] also causes him pained feelings, but the evening passes in good, indeed even gay spirits, and at the end R. and I, kneeling on a stool at the window, see the head of Froh close by in the moonlight, leaning against an oleander. - We bid farewell to this Midsummer Day, R. and I, with tender impetuosity - may God grant us more such days!