Saturday, August 26:
Much turmoil. The young bride, very moved and touching. At 11 o’clock the church wedding, the priest, it seems, not very favorably disposed and keeping just within the bounds of personal propriety; his address, with all its sacristan trimmings and impertinent indiscretions, has an embarrassing effect. Biagino conducts himself splendidly, and when, gazing earnestly at Blandine, he places the ring on her finger, we feel that this was the truly sacred act! The music literally acts on us like balm, an a cappella Mass conducted by Herr Levi and sung by our chorus. Then we see them off at the station. It so happens that R. and my father, who remained at home at my request, suddenly appear, to the surprise and joy of all on the platform! The children get into the saloon carriage provided by the railroad management and are borne away. Their departure is for me a more than usually serious occasion!
R. writes to Dr. Strecker. He feels upset by the singers who are causing him such difficulties in the matter of resting. He is also upset by the King’s failure to attend the performances. In the evening we had invited all our friends who had come for the wedding, and also the singers, who had all so kindly taken part in it. R. comes in, encounters Prof. Bernays first of all, and becomes so annoyed with everybody and everything that, long after all the guests have departed, he is unable to control his ill-humor. In the afternoon, as he was sitting at his writing desk, I went to him to ask how he felt, and he told me then that he wished he might die. Now, late in the evening, while he has some food served to him in the dining room, I sit alone in the deserted rooms and reflect and reflect, until my excited thoughts take refuge in slumber, and I know what it will one day be like!
(Yesterday, to our great joy, friend Sulzer arrived; he also attended the wedding.)