Wednesday, 5 September 1877

We repeated the excursion to Schwalbach, this time by carriage, and saw the same people as yesterday. I was indisposed and we came home early.
We were to go to Wiesbaden, where Lautrec is expecting us, having gone to some expense (he is very miserly) over our tickets to the ball of artists, scholars, etc., which takes place this evening. Maman is ill and I am glad not to travel.
I have received the photographs from Waléry. I am in an ideal Mignon costume, seated on rocks.
To M. de Marcuard:
“This photograph is so pretty that I cannot resist the wish to show you what a charming person you are being so ungracious to. And I, who in the Underworld had assigned you a place among the suspended ones, where Virgil is, and all those who cannot go to paradise despite their virtues but cannot be sent to Hell either, and who hang suspended between the two! You deserve to be beside Lucifer himself, at the very bottom. Could you be cross about the trinity? No, surely not.
Marie Bashkirtseff
P.S. If you know anyone with nervous complaints, send them here; Maman is doing very well on the Schlangenbad waters.”
I enclose a photograph with these inscriptions: “Portrait of my only love” — then “Mignon lamenting Italy on the rocks of Schlangenbad, which are as hard as stones.”
I have not yet sent this new jest.

Notes

In Italian in the original: sospesi, “the suspended”, Dante’s term for the souls in Limbo (Inferno IV). ↩