Thursday, 1 February 1877

These ladies were preparing to go and pleasantly lose a few paltry hundred francs at Monaco. I brought them back to reason with a most bitter speech, and we went, Maman and I (in the basket carriage), to show ourselves in broad daylight, then to Mme de Ballore’s; she is so kind, and we neglect her like ill-bred people.
I have no luck: here are ladies who, if you remember, were to get us into the Prefecture; these ladies, I say, can no longer go out, seeing that Jeanne is suing for a separation from her dreadful husband. If I had the time I would tell a few fragments of the horrors told about this man in town.
I have thought up a sort of gathering for Saturday, so, seeing Barnola, I stopped him. He was with the handsome Diaz de Soria, the incomparable singer. I am inviting him too, since he has paid us a call. Only I said a heap of nonsense to him, because he talks exactly like someone I know (I have no idea who), and I thought I was seeing a friend.
I am in a fine mood to go to the ground-floor stage box on the left at the Théâtre Français, to hear where Agar, of the Comédie-Française, in a performance. I heard Les Horaces. The name of Rome rang in my ears twenty times, superbly and sublimely. When I got home I read Livy. The heroes, the folds of the togas... the Capitol, the Dome... the masked ball, the Pincio...
O Rome!

Notes

In French in the original: panier — a light open carriage with a basket-work body, driven by its owner; a fashionable conveyance for ladies. ↩
Agar (Marie-Léonide Charvin, 1832-1891), tragic actress of the Comédie-Française. Les Horaces (“The Horatii”) is Corneille’s tragedy Horace (1640), set in early Rome and drawn from Livy (Tite-Live), whom Marie reads that night. ↩