(some of the Chiefs here) half an hour ago. I have two thousand five
hundred scudi, better than five hundred pounds, in the house, which I
offered to begin with.

"February 25. 1821.

"Came home--my head aches--plenty of news, but too tiresome to set down.
I have neither read nor written, nor thought, but led a purely animal
life all day. I mean to try to write a page or two before I go to bed.
But, as Squire Sullen says, 'My head aches consumedly: Scrub, bring me a
dram!' Drank some Imola wine, and some punch.

"_Log-book continued_[25].

[Footnote 25: In another paper-book.]

"February 27. 1821.

"I have been a day without continuing the log, because I could not find
a blank book. At length I recollected this.

"Rode, &c.--dined--wrote down an additional stanza for the 5th canto of
D.J. which I had composed in bed this morning. Visited _l'Amica_. We are
invited, on the night of the Veglione (next Domenica) with the Marchesa
Clelia Cavalli and the Countess Spinelli Rusponi. I promised to go. Last
night there was a row at the ball, of which I am a 'socio.' The
Vice-legate had the imprudent insolence to introduce _three_ of his
servants in masque--_without tickets,_ too! and in spite of
remonstrances. The consequence was, that the young men of the ball took
it up, and were near throwing the Vice-legate out of the window. His
servants, seeing the scene, withdrew, and he after them. His reverence
Monsignore ought to know, that these are not times for the predominance
of priests over decorum. Two minutes more, two steps farther, and the
whole city would have been in arms, and the government driven out of it.

"Such is the spirit of the day, and these fellows appear not to perceive
it. As far as the simple fact went, the young men were right, servants
being prohibited always at these festivals.

"Yesterday wrote two notes on the 'Bowles and Pope' controversy, and
sent them off to Murray by the post. The old woman whom I relieved in
the forest (she is ninety-four years of age) brought me two bunches of
violets. 'Nam vita gaudet mortua floribus,' I was much pleased with the
present. An English woman would have presented a pair of worsted
stockings, at least, in the month of February. Both excellent things;
but the former are more elegant. The present, at this season, reminds
one of Gray's stanza, omitted from his elegy:--

Here scatter'd oft, the _earliest_ of the year,
By hands unseen, are showers