Monday, 10 April 1876

I have just woken and my dreadful dream is still fresh. I saw Visconti taken ill and catching his foot against mine to keep from falling. I called for help and four black servants arrived, dressed in black with livery of embossed red velvet over it, like the Vatican footmen. And at the moment I was bending over the baron, who lay stretched on a bench insensible, one of them put his arms around my neck: There is no one here, he said, and I am going to kiss you.
We were in a railway station; I ran out onto the platform, shrieking furiously, just as someone was calling to me from the train that was about to depart: I am going to Nice, from where I shall go to the village of Ragon — and I am taking Pietro with me!
Walitsky, Dina and others came to my rescue; the servants were seized, and two chambermaids also in black and red. Then I saw a plaster head that moved and spoke. Then I was lying beside Maman, and a young boy in the manner of Cima stood there and I found it perfectly natural to be in my nightgown before him. These servants and this Visconti making me fall by catching hold of me, Visconti in the grip of an apoplectic fit — all this makes an unpleasant impression on me, and I am already interpreting the dream, as one may easily guess.
Scarcely risen I cannot stand upright but droop like a wilted flower — it seems I would fold in two. I cannot take the situation in, and I begin to feel an immense anger rising from my wounded pride.
I have consulted the cards; they told me I would see him today. But that is not possible — if he were going to come back, he would have come back already. It is this despairing thought that makes me wish I could howl like two dogs!
No, do admit — this is a strange affair.
The ugliest part of it is to know nothing and to be able to do nothing!
It is foolish to consult the cards, and yet I can do nothing else — and the cards console, despite the little faith one places in them.
They mean to drive me mad, these accursed cards! Now yes, now no! God, God, God!
He was an embarrassment to his whole family; no one knew what to do with him. He went to ask his mother for a reconciliation and the means to live independently — they saw their opportunity and got rid of him:
Reconcile yourself with God!
That is the Jesuits for you!
When you come out, you will be at peace with everyone, you will be independent, and you may marry if you wish.
What contemptible cowards! They have shut him away forever. No — they have shut him away for the duration of my stay in Rome. But we shall see. Tomorrow I go to Naples. They cannot have foreseen that trick. Besides, once released he will come and find me — it is not that which concerns me, it is the present uncertainty, this blow that was anticipated yet came as a shock!
Have mercy, Lord!
I pace my room, moaning softly like a wounded wolf — I had opened the box, but I could only press my forehead against the lid and remain God knows how long in that position. I still have the ivy branch he gave me on the Capitoline.
What sadness!
I can no longer hold myself up; I sigh and let myself collapse like a dead weight.
I truly do not know what ails me. It is no doubt ridiculous, but there it is.
Besides, it is foolish to be indignant, to weep, to pray. Is it not always thus, in everything? I ought to be accustomed to it by now and no longer weary heaven with my useless lamentations.
At one o'clock we had a visit from Plowden, who brings me a little dog to see.
I went riding again with Paul. A ravishing ride from a physical point of view, and as tedious as could be from a moral one.