O! day! ――――― O!

Breakfast ― & then a call on Clark.

Then to Macbean’s, where alas!, was a letter from Iggalden’s, saying that no Kokáli could be heard of, & that therefore the 30 dollars were not paid. ― Thus, even if poor George is not ill, there is no chance of his coming yet.
So I came back to the centre of this infernally selfish little d―d village. & also to N°. 9. ― There I tried to work: ― beginning to draw Palermo, & good old [Shacklebar] ― coming in to light the fire. But I could not work long ― & was uncomfortable enough, tho’ not, (as yet,) wretched as last year. Later, I could not feel easy about poor dear George ― so I went to Macbeans, & wrote off a “personal” letter to Iggalden’s, begging him to find out if one Kokali was in Naples, & if ill, to get him some medical assistance. ― It was only after this was sent that I remembered that Police may have his name Cocali. ― I could not write, but walked on the Pincian, & saw the Fosters, with whom I went to the upper Medici Gardens. Ἔπειδα, alone, I wandered to the river: ― pleasant fine evening ― ah! calm….

So I came back ― meeting with quiet Col. Bowen.

Then I dined at the Table d’hôte ― endeavouring to make Clark & Dr. Kennedy acquaint: wh. to a certain extent I did. ―

Afterwards, Mrs. Middleton, Mrs. Macbean’s “aunt,” ― axed us up to his room, where were Kennedy & Clark ― nonetheless it was potius aper. ―

It’s of no use worrying for George ― but I do so wish that good man were here. ― Last year I was 3 weex waiting ― but then I did not know he would come at all. ―― Now, I know he is half way, yet ill, & moneyless. ―

XXX2

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