Monday, October 9:
At 8 o'clock set sail for Capri, breakfast in the Hotel du Louvre, whose ridiculous name amuses us greatly; ride to the Villa Tiberio; stop at the Leap; our donkey girls dance the tarantella for us, the eldest of them with great passion, but one of them is not permitted to dance because her husband is jealous.
Our ride home through narrow lanes resembles an Arab wedding procession, everything splendid! The poverty of the people in comparison with the richness of Nature astonishes one; but this poverty would not exist, or at least the mania for profit, if there were not strangers here to beg from.
I felt shame, too, in making them dance the tarantella. Journey home amid shooting stars and phosphorescent waves! Unforgettable impression; the white houses in all that green, the splendid flowers, later the calm sea, a perfect summer night.
Unfortunately, however, the shadow of gloomy thoughts at home. R. is wondering whether he should repeat the performances! Not a single one of the princes, having distributed decorations to all the participants, has asked R. what can be done for him, how he might be helped or supported! ...