Wednesday, May 11:
The children busy with the poems; R. calls me down while he is working; he wants to embrace me. I leave him in haste, in order to embroider, on account of his birthday. In the afternoon to Countess B.’s, saw the old Prince perhaps for the last time.
Great alarm during the day; R. had a cuckoo in front of his window, he saw it and describes its powerful form to us. Everything makes me worry, I don’t know why.