Tuesday, 28 February 1865

Bright early ― but cloudy from noon to sunset ― i.e. gleamy cloudy.

Did not go out all day.

No letters. ― Wrote to E. Baring.

Worked by fits ― yet pretty well.


Dined at 6.15.

Talk with G. about going yo England ― & about his returning. After a long fit of bother, he says, & says rightly ― “Posso dire, non è lo stesso come prima.[1] Cristo is dead. Giovanni is no longer living in houses. Spiro has left us, & we do not know if he will ever return. My mother is old: my wife is a good one ― but alone ― my sons are not old enough to take care of them. So, though I would go all over the world with you, I ought to go back. ― And you must no longer pay 4 months wages for no work, which you cannot afford ―: therefore I ought to leave you, e ^[per] quanto sia male non fa niente,[2] πρέπει νὰ ἠναι οὐτως.”[3]

Andhe is right & good: & so it must be.

It is better thus perhaps ―: yet nearly 10 years of good service from a faithful good fellow make the parting hard. ― ὦ ζωή μας! Τι εἶσαι;[4]

Bed at 10.30.


[1] I can say it is not the same as before.

[2] Even though it is not a good thing, it does not matter.

[3] It must be so.

[4] O life! What are you?

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


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Filed under 1865, Diary Entry

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