Monday, 4 August 1873

We wanted to go out at nine, but did not leave until one (ecru dress, not bad — these past days I have been very ugly). We went to Francine's and I ordered a dark green dress in wool and faille, an ideal rose hat, grey felt: two hundred and twenty francs, hat forty-eight francs.
At the Exposition we walked enormously, visiting nearly everything. The Russian pavilion is very beautiful; everything is pretty, the silverware superb! We lunched at the Russian restaurant. It is neither a restaurant nor Russian — it is a kind of German village beer hall, very ugly, very dirty. The servants are dressed in red — caricatures! It is not surprising that Russians are taken for Turks. I am enjoying myself today; the first two days I was in a lethargy — these absences happen to me sometimes; I understand nothing, I cannot speak, I am stupid. Today it has passed. The Italian statues are very original and beautiful. There are remarkable facial expressions: two embracing — "La bocca mi bacia tutta tremante" — it is quite beautiful.
[Added between the lines: 1875. These two are Francesca da Rimini and Paolo.]
Say what you will, one's fatherland is always one's fatherland. Everything Russian is beautiful. In the Russian pavilion I examined things with ardour; I was deeply moved on seeing Russian names, inscriptions, merchants, merchandise. I had tears in my eyes.
In Vienna there is superb furniture. A pink and pale blue drawing room struck me. Tired as post-horses, we left at seven — the Exposition was closing.
We went to hear the music (Paul is in the country at Gutman's). There are crowds of people. The music is very rousing, entirely Viennese. When that orchestra finished and we were heading home, another began opposite, at the Deutsches Reich. We sat down. There was every sort of person — from members of the imperial family and fashionable ladies to young dandies and aged, faded dandies who refuse to admit defeat. It is a whirlwind of gaiety — not precisely, but never mind. I am completely excited. I want to see everything, go everywhere. The climate of Vienna is delicious — it is not Nice that burns in summer.
We took a turn in the Prater at eight — the air is delicious. We dined at the hotel.

Notes

Italian in the original: "The mouth kissed me all trembling" (Dante, Inferno V).