Wednesday, 19 August 1874

Once in passing I mentioned octopuses, and the Pole asked me if I wanted some:
“Yes,” I answered, and forgot.
This morning the waiter comes in and brings a large, beautiful shell full of octopuses. They tell us to send up the count, who was waiting below. I was writing; I did not rise, I did not turn my head until I had finished sealing and writing the address. He expected to make an impression; there was none. I am like everyone else: I profit where I can. But to thank him, I gave him several letters to post.
This evening we all go to the theatre; they are giving “The Sphinx.” With the Tamancheffs we are twelve — enough to fill one side of the theatre. Opposite are the kind Fosters. Despite bad actors, I saw the play again with pleasure. But even with much indulgence, I found Mme de Schelles detestable, and on top of that, no proper costume. The other, Berthe, is nearly as good as in Paris. This dear Tamancheff family is very kind but often bores me — like the Anitchkoffs, who are the best friends we have and who bore me all the same.
These Tamancheffs always drag one away from the promenades; because of them I have not yet been to the concert. I like pretty little circles; this one is too simple. After the performance we head towards the Cercle des Bains, but halfway there we see the lights are out.
Walitsky has composed four more poems — freely rhymed, but since they concern people we know:
Blue eyes Sausage nose Clumsy bear Big and strong Lumbering Doenhoff Overseer of Russian woods.
That is for Doenhoff; here are kinder verses.
The Belgian Gambart Has hidden in a barn In great agitation On account of the decoration received From Lady Marguerite And all her retinue For the crayfish and the trout The games and the swing.
I translate these verses thus:
Monsieur Gambart Strides over these ramparts In great agitation After the reception
Of Princess Marguerite With all her retinue She procures him a decoration The charming reception.
Gambart has been decorated. During his absence Marguerite and her retinue spent a few hours at Alsa with the Princess of Prussia. They fished for crayfish and trout that had been put in the ponds on purpose. And when the gentlemen and the ladies and Marguerite herself, said had pulled out fifty crayfish, she said:
“Keep looking, ladies, there were sixty; you will find ten more.”
Then they went off to eat their catch at the Barizart. Let us return to Walitsky’s productions.
The Spanish Jew Moses Jurybarren Dances with the ladies Speaks near Saragossa He says he sighs for her Because of that he fights the Carlists Sworn enemy of the Carlists Of the Catholics and the papists (1) Walitsky made fun of this man and called him, and del Puente, and the little one who looks like Rodionoff, Carlists, giving them a grave, political air, especially after the private society and the fuss Paul made of Jurybarren and del Puente during the cotillion business. Jurybarren looked so Jewish. To finish, here it is:
Fine idyll Doria Pamphilia An immense stature A clear voice Though Italian But a beauty.
For three days he has been telling impossible things about Doria, not to mention smut in profusion. We were eating ices at the Kursaal when he said to us, in front of Merjeewsky, pointing at the smoke of the Dover boat, which we could see:
“Look, that is Doria Pamphilii diving in the middle of the ocean, but he is so tall that he touches the bottom and you can see his head; that smoke is the smoke of his cigar.” And nonsense of that sort.

Notes

Written in Russian in the manuscript; French translation by the editor. ↩
Written in Russian in the manuscript; French translation by the editor. ↩
Written in Russian in the manuscript; French translation by the editor. ↩
Written in Russian in the manuscript; French translation by the editor. ↩