Diary of Marie Bashkirtseff
CZENUKFR

Wednesday, 28 March 1877

I rise with almost the certainty that my Bijou will not come today. I am indisposed, which makes me listless and stupid and vexed at everything. Yet the improvement in my looks continues, and I went out walking almost pretty. The Hamontoffs are insufferable! Madame wrote a note this morning, and one had to take Olga walking — she is so dim-witted. I am astonished to have so many people to greet on the Promenade.
My little principino has become a young man! If you could form an idea of Melissano's face you would have a fit of mad laughter like mine. All Naples notices it and teases him about it. Poor fellow — he is amusing.
The pork-butchers have arrived! My beloved Bijou will have no room! I knew perfectly well he would not come today either! That is bad — he violates the laws of the most elementary gallantry.
Moonlight, serenade, balcony, and... Melissano!
I am distracted from this Spanish occupation by Doenhoff's visit.
But what do I learn this evening!!
Monsieur le comte est mort
Mironton, mironton, mirontaine
Monsieur le comte est mort
Est mort et enterré.
bis
No, it is not that — it is this wretched Marlborough song that I have got into the habit of singing and that insists I write it out!
In short: Monsieur le comte is announced for tomorrow morning at the Hôtel d'Angleterre, which is an annex of the Hôtel du Louvre — because there is no room for him here! Five persons, one of whom is Bijou, will be lodged at the Hôtel d'Angleterre, all of whom had asked to be here.
Fate! Monsieur le comte has ordered a carriage to fetch him from the station. That is new — formerly he went about strumming guitar with la Righi. Maman and especially Dina are as though offended on my behalf at this change of hotel, and Dina has the extreme kindness to say:
— If he had wished it, he could have found a room here — but he wants to be free...
Free in what way, and from what! In truth it is a way of putting people in untenable positions and quite disordering their minds. One sees affronts, coldness, what do I know!
Ah! I can say I had an agitated day — I rose and fell ten times over; my indisposition made me more sensitive to the slightest things; I despaired, I trembled at the slightest word.
Now it is over — I have soothed my self-esteem, wounded by this thing. But I am vexed; I feel I am writing detestably and with affectation.
Bijou is coming at last! And this joy is spoiled — first by too long a wait, then by the last letter, and finally by this Hôtel d'Angleterre, which is separated from ours by two houses!
Everything must be spoiled for me, and I shall never grow used to it — it is so sad.
A book has turned my thoughts around, awakened me. I was ready to fall asleep in Italy — now I want to go to Paris.
The Baron and Baronne Formosa were the first to call on us. Maman had made their acquaintance at the Skating through the Fabbricatores.
It is with a cruel envy that I see the calling cards of the Neapolitan aristocracy beside the name of an Austrian countess on the hotel board! Each day as I pass I see new ones! But thank God I am able to stifle the old storms.
I have so much to say and do not know how.

Notes

Principino: Italian — "little prince," an affectionate diminutive. ↩
Les charcutiers: Marie's pejorative nickname for the Germans (Doenhoff's party), who have taken the rooms Bijou needed. ↩
Marie parodies the famous French nursery song Malborough s'en va-t-en guerre (Marlborough Goes to War), substituting "Monsieur le comte" for Marlborough. The song tells of the Duke's (falsely reported) death and his widow's mourning. ↩