Slept well. Rose at 5½.

As I expected ― clouds. But, Coffee had, we left at 6 ― in a boat, with one old man, a simple soul, who said “I am called really Francesco ― but no one uses my name; they call me Gallina, ― & I always reply to it” ― The lake=gulf was very lovely, but the wind rose, & a swell, which made me miserable ― so I was put on shore opposite P. Venere, & sent back the boat. Here I & G. walked along dangerous paths, & I drew till 11: ― when it rained, & all seemed dismal. Retiring to a hole in the rox ― we lunched; & when the rain ceased, came fourth, & went to P. Venere. (The firing from the fort & the Echoes were wonderful.) P.V. is very picturesque, ― its old blk & w. striped marble church &c. &c. ―: we also went up to the Fort, & about the streets, where the people caught the rain in pans, & spoke rapid dialext. ― Returning, by the road, rain always: beautiful views ― always like Corfu. School of marine youths. Polite & kindly people. ― Tho’ wet, a pleasant walk.

By 5 we were at S. Francesco, & soon in the town: a garden of roses was a pleasant discovery. Dined at 7, the 2 French folk only.

Illuminations afterwards, & short walk with G., & talk with Landlord.

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