Sunday, 21 July 1878

We were all assembled in the salon when Madame Rembelinsky appeared with my mandoline and my guitar — there was nothing for it but to sing On dit que l'on te marie and play my Neapolitan songs. General emotion. Dr. Tomachewsky even maintained that one must have a scratch on the heart to sing with such feeling. It is amusing to make people weep without doing them harm.
Madame Gavini took her leave of Maman and sent me a hundred and fifty kind and affectionate things, adding that Denis and she are infatuated with me. May it last! I value this love more than the love of a man like Multedo — who does not love me in any case.
Rosalie, in passing, counted my enemies: Marcuard, Multedo, Paul de Cassagnac. Everyone, she says, everyone except you could see why he came, and you played tricks on him! I am convinced he would be happy to make a deal at the rate of seventy thousand francs. He might not even deny it — it is so natural, after all!
I certainly do not think of Multedo — and yet I dreamt of him last night, and this morning I receive the following verses: ^6^ [Thursday, 18 July 1878.] I stove in your guitar — / But being not at all mean-spirited / I sent it to be rejuvenated! / When will you manage to sing? / [...] I broke through your guitar. / If the Duchess of Ferrara / Was cruel to Multedo, / Have pity on Multedo.
The gallant singer did not please me — his candidacy is tainted by financial considerations. The two princes are the object of every jest at table and often elsewhere. Little Mitta (Dimitri) came to report that they are dirty because they put their finger in their mouth and then hold it up in the air — like sailors.

Notes

"They say you are getting married" — a popular French sentimental song.
Multedo's comic poem casts himself as a troubadour tormented by a cruel lady (the "Duchess of Ferrara"), alluding to the Italian tradition of the courtly lover.