Friday, 13 April 1877

After a few visits, which I left Maman to receive, we go to the photographer’s. I often sit for photographs so that, in the edition of my Journal, pictures can be inserted that are perfectly in keeping with it and show exactly my mood and state of mind at the time.
Larderel arrived at five in the afternoon. He and Melissano have already seen Maman, I forget where, but they talked together for an hour.
His room is on the mezzanine and is separated from mine only by the church. I was on my balcony and he on his; we greeted each other. He is very pale and looks utterly distracted. I saw him drive off in a cab; he bowed to me again, and I made him a sign to come, which he took to mean the Skating. I hardly knew what I was doing.
And yet I need to see him, to reassure him and… in a word, I absolutely must see him.
written across the page
Melissano drove out with us in the carriage, which produced an immense effect.
Instead of going to the Fiorentini (the Théâtre-Français of Naples), where we have a box, we go to the Skating. Melito, Schininà and Marini are the only people I know there; I was silly enough to tell the others I would go to the Fiorentini. Later Melissano and Larderel come in; they are just back from the Fiorentini, where Maman had arranged to meet them.
— Good evening, Mademoiselle, how are you? he said to me very cordially, holding out his hand.
— Good evening, Monsieur, I am very well, thank you, and you? I answered gaily and with interest.
— You know, I have just come from the Fiorentini.
— That is your place — you are a Florentine.
— No, I was waiting for you there.
— Ah! I did not go. What a disappointment!
A few more words, after which he goes and talks with Maman for quite a long time.
He is completely changed. Pale, thin face, limp shirt, badly brushed coat… He is still drunk! We are the best friends in the world together; I laugh in his face as I do at Melissano.
But what you do not know is that he is said to have been refused by me, thanks to the Fabbricatores and Nasimoff.
I have reread our strange conversation; it reads like a fragment from the records of a madhouse. When he had gone I was bored, and we went home.
But what you cannot imagine is this man’s latest folly. Two days ago in Rome he went to the King and asked his permission and protection to enlist as a volunteer in the Russian army on the day war is declared. It may be declared tomorrow. His Majesty promised to smooth away the obstacles that exist for a man who has never been a soldier, and to give him letters of recommendation. The King encourages and approves him. So it is decided: he leaves Naples directly for Vienna, from where he will make his way to Saint Petersburg and the army. Maman asked him whether it was because of Mme la Coquine that he was exiling himself like this, and he answered that it was the deplorable state of his finances.
Oh! the power of gold, the greatest, the truest of all!!! Oh! if I had gold, with what joy I would pay all his debts!! With gold one has everything! How I would go to him… or rather, no! I would pay everything in secret.
But he does not love me… oh! then he would love me… enough to grow used to me. Did he love La Righi?
You see, good people, if I had millions…
A little gold sullies, a great deal of gold deifies…
If I had enough to pay for everything, and to buy him for myself, to take him…
I am in a state fit to climb the walls!
Shall I leave for Russia? If I left, Larderel would become the great passion of my life; but I shall stay, so as to forget, and that is perhaps better.
More than ever I want to… do what I shall reveal only at the very moment.
More than ever!! If you only knew…
Well, yes, I am suffering, yes, well, yes — are you satisfied?
If he loved me I would follow him anywhere… but to follow him like this is shameful and… shameful… For after all, it might annoy him.
And yet who would look after him better than I, who would be more devoted… where the devil have I got all these ideas from… it is all so new to me…
Well then, let him go and fight — but let him die! I shall go and watch him die in my arms… by force! Oh! why… he does not hate me.
Now that he is going there, Russia smiles on me like a paradise.
I must speak to him so as to laugh in his face, to make fun of him! Maman advises me to, and very nearly orders me to.
Oh! these long, long, long nights in Naples. This lampshade with its views of Rome, and these cards that tell me nothing good and that I question a hundred times over! I write a word and lay out the cards, and it goes on and on and torments me.
I want to go away and I shall forget; it is only an illness, my nerves are on edge, that is all. I do not know myself what it is; I have been mistaken so many times, and my retorts and alembics have so often blown splinters into my face that I am half blinded.
No, I am tormented, I would like to die, to weep; if I were not thwarted in this affair, perhaps I would not think about it…
I fear that this time, too, it may be an absurdity like the imaginary fancy for Torlonia. No, the other was quite simply a means of change…
I do not know, it does not matter, go to the devil.

Notes

The Teatro dei Fiorentini, one of the principal theatres of Naples, known for spoken drama. ↩
Madame la Coquine: Marie’s contemptuous nickname for Larderel’s mistress, literally “Madam the Hussy.” ↩