Slept ― utterly ― from 10 to 7 & did not rise till 8, & then was sleepy: ― &, as I am well at present, I feel sure enough that this air is wondrously heavy & sleep enduring.

Bright & clear day, but the hustle & fuss of church really worry me ― & so I did not go. And in truth, I had much to write: so I wrote to W.N. ― Mr. Shakespeare, ― Lady Young, Clowes, & Lord Clermont. In Clowes & lady Y. letters ― Let it not be said I wrote thoughtlessly: for I wrote out each twice ― & saggrified one of each. ― G. wouldn’t walk with me ― & according to his downright ways said ― “Andar in campagna a camminare 4 ore? Νοn vado mi. ― Se sia per voi ― o da necessità ― va bene: ― ma per capriccio ― non vado mi.”1 ― So I set off at 2½ ― & called on Stansfeld; (finding to my surprise that his Baby ― (5 months only) was living!) ― We crossed the Φerry, & went ― [baking], round the walls ― to the P. S. Pancrazio, ― our legs ― at least mine, being about to be broken at every step by those vile blackguards with the quoits. I never remember that road so dangerous. The Gardens were lovely as ever: ― & I grew a little  soothed thereby ― though Rome is a sad weary prison to me now a days. We returned by the S.P. in Montorio ― very glorious sunset ― & Velino2 in it[:] none most glorious. Will the reality of the Abruzzi days ever be as real again? ― (Today I read some of Storey’s poems ― many very beautiful.) ―

At the Falcone I left S. ―a good fellow ― & dined there. ―

Home by 8. & the Saturnine G. is making Coffe. ―

Wrote Greek, & a letter to Mr. Edwards. ―

[Transcribed by Marco Graziosi from Houghton Library, Harvard University, MS Eng. 797.3.]

  1. “To go walking in the country for 4 hours? I don’tgo. If it is for you, or some necessity, it is all right: but I will not go for a whim.” [↩]
  2. A mountain in the central Appennini, not far from Rome. [↩]