Wednesday, 28 June 1876

Ah! I have worked today. I have ordered a writing table, a chest of drawers, a bookcase, three mirrors; I have summoned a clerk from the Visconti bookshop who is at this moment compiling a catalogue of my books. I have a fine nucleus of a library: all the Greek, Latin, and French classics — a few English and Italian books.
I had to go out as early as three o’clock — I took Dina with me. What luck! We met Monsieur and Madame Saetone, Gautier, and Laurenti. I love seeing Gautier.
It is Grandfather who wages war on Antonelli! All I do is speak of the future election — wishing it would come sooner, so I might be niece of the Pope. I shall have far more vexations than at present, but at least it will be worth the trouble. Think of it — it is not merely being the niece of His Holiness in Rome; it is being received at every court — in Austria, in Spain above all (what a beautiful country Spain is!), in Bavaria (the King is a delightful eccentric), and in England — the Catholic party. Think of it!
And then I would immediately have Audiffret excommunicated, and I shall grant a dispensation to Saetone for having had the courage to marry Mademoiselle Marie Lacroix. And then — imagine me at the theatre, or at a ball. Who is that? they will ask. That is the niece of the Pope. Ah!
I have had brilliant dreams — but they were not even dreams: they were follies. And now it seems so close — it seems one has only to reach out one’s hand. Ah! If I were to become niece of the Pope! There are many kings — the Pope is unique. Ah!
Walitsky has finally replied to Antonelli — a joking letter in his usual manner, in which I had him insert this sentence: “We leave in a week; who knows whether I shall return, for as you say so well, the future is always uncertain.” As for me, I leave on Sunday. — He will set off in pursuit of you, Bihovetz said. Ah — I do not believe it. — And you will not be unkind, he added. Ah — that I do believe.
Grandfather is horribly opposed to this boy — even if he becomes nephew of the Pope. As for me, I have announced solemnly, once and for all, that if Pietro* remains as he is — never; whereas if he becomes nephew of the Pope, or inherits a great deal of money (three hundred thousand francs of income, absolute minimum) — absolutely: above all if he becomes nephew of the Pope, in which case I shall take no one’s counsel and if necessary I would jump from the second floor to make it happen.
Only — man proposes and God disposes. Will this dream remain a dream like the others? Who knows? God. It is possible, after all, that Antonelli never received my flower. I doubt his love. When one does not love, one does not write letters like his. “I love you, and I need the relief of a word from you.” That simplicity proves it is true — like the Gospel. — “What proves that it is the truth?” my teacher Monsieur Brunet used to say. — “The extreme simplicity of the account. For if it were an invention, it would be embellished with all manner of rhetorical figures, like fairy tales” — whereas here the facts are stated quite simply, because since it was only the exact truth, no one even supposed that one might doubt it.
I do not doubt this love — I doubt his energy; I doubt his character, and I am right to. Lord, save the future Pius X. For I suppose the cardinal will take the name Pius, out of gratitude.

Notes

King Ludwig II of Bavaria (r. 1864–1886), celebrated for his extravagance and eccentricity. ↩
In Italian in the original: Chi lo sa ? Dio. ↩
In Latin in the original: Domine, salvum fac futurum Pium X — a prayer Marie invents for Cardinal Antonelli’s election as Pope. In fact, Pius X was elected in 1903, long after Giacomo Antonelli’s death in 1876. ↩