Daniel’s and Grandmama’s birthday, dull weather.
R. dreamed about Rus, that we had taken him on our travels and he turned out to be a lion and suddenly ran down a slope with a laborer; as I was saying to R. that we could not possibly take such an animal with us, he remarked, “If anyone were to tell me this is a dream, I should believe him—and yet I am experiencing it.” Then we were in our house, wondering whether we could remain in it and in Bayreuth
after such an incident—and it was with these worrying thoughts that R. woke up! The present separation from Rus, who is no longer allowed to come into the rooms—which makes R. sad—was doubtless the reason for these hallucinations. — In the evening the last act of Julius Gaesar, indescribably moving. R. exclaims, “No one would ever believe that—that my wife is weeping over the death of Brutus and Cassius.”