Date none. The day had no date.
Strolled incognito on Nevsky Prospect. His Majesty the emperor drove by. The whole city took their hats off, and I did, too; however, I didn't let on that I was the king of Spain. I considered it unsuitable to reveal myself right there in front of everybody; because, first of all, I have to present myself at court. The only thing holding me up is that I still don't have royal attire. If only I could get some sort of mantle. I was going to order one from a tailor, but they're perfect asses, and, besides, they neglect their work completely; they've thrown themselves into affairs and are mostly busy paving the streets with stones. I decided to make a mantle out of my new uniform, which I had only worn twice. But, to prevent those blackguards from ruining it, I decided to sew it myself, after locking the door so that no one could see. I cut it all up with scissors, because the style has to be completely different.
Don't remember the date. There was no month, either. Devil knows what there was.
The mantle is all ready and sewn up. Mavra cried out when I put it on. However, I still refrain from presenting myself at court. No deputation from Spain so far. Without deputies it's not proper. There'll be no weight to my dignity. I expect them any moment.
The 1st. I'm extremely astonished at the slowness of the deputies. What reasons can be holding them up? Can it be France? Yes, that is the most unfavorably disposed power. I went to inquire at the post office whether the Spanish deputies had arrived. But the postmaster is very stupid, he doesn't know anything; no, he says, there are no Spanish deputies here, and if you wish to write letters, we accept them at the set rate. Devil take it! what's a letter! A letter's nonsense. Apothecaries can write letters…
Madrid. Thirtieth Februarius.
And so I'm in Spain, and it happened so quickly that I've barely come to my senses. This morning the Spanish deputies came to me, and I got into the carriage together with them. The extraordinary speed seemed strange to me. We drove so quickly that in half an hour we reached the Spanish border. However, there are railroads everywhere in Europe now, and steamships drive very fast. Spain is a strange land: when we entered the first room, I saw a lot of people with shaved heads. I guessed, however, that they must be either grandees or soldiers, since they shave their heads. The behavior of the lord chancellor, who led me by the arm, seemed extremely strange to me; he pushed me into a little room and said, "Sit here, and if you still want to call yourself King Ferdinand, I'll beat the wish out of you." But I, knowing it was nothing but a provocation, replied in the negative-for which the chancellor hit me twice on the back with a stick, so painfully that I nearly cried out, but caught myself, having remembered that this was the knightly custom on entering upon high rank, because in Spain they still preserve knightly customs. Being left alone, I decided to occupy myself with state affairs. I discovered that China and Spain are absolutely one and the same land, and it is only out of ignorance that they are considered separate countries. I advise everyone purposely to write Spain on a piece of paper, and it will come out China. But, nevertheless, I was extremely upset by an event that is going to take place tomorrow. Tomorrow at seven o'clock a strange phenomenon will occur: the earth is going to sit on the moon. This has also been written about by the noted English chemist Wellington. I confess, I felt troubled at heart when I pictured to myself the extraordinary delicacy and fragility of the moon. For the moon is usually made in Hamburg, and made quite poorly. I'm surprised England doesn't pay attention to this. It's made by a lame cooper, and one can see that the fool understands nothing about the moon. He used tarred rope and a quantity of cheap olive oil, and that's why there's a terrible stench all over the earth, so that you have to hold your nose. And that's why the moon itself is such a delicate sphere that people can't live on it, and now only noses live there. And for the same reason, we can't see our own noses, for they're all in the moon. And when I pictured how the earth is a heavy substance and in sitting down may grind our noses into flour, I was overcome with such anxiety that, putting on my stockings and shoes, I hurried to the state council chamber to order the police not to allow the earth to sit on the moon. The shaved grandees, great numbers of whom I found in the state council chamber, were all very intelligent people, and when I said, "Gentlemen, let us save the moon, because the earth wants to sit on it," they all rushed at once to carry out my royal will, and many crawled up the wall in order to get the moon; but just then the lord chancellor came in. Seeing him, they all ran' away. I, being the king, was the only one to remain. But, to my surprise, the chancellor hit me with a stick and drove me to my room. Such is the power of popular custom in Spain!
January of the same year, which came after February.
I still cannot understand what sort of country Spain is. The popular customs and court etiquette are absolutely extraordinary. I do not understand, I do not understand, I decidedly do not understand anything. Today they shaved my head, though I shouted with all my might about my unwillingness to be a monk. But I cannot even remember how I felt when they began dripping cold water on my head. I've never experienced such hell before. I was ready to start raging, so that they were barely able to hold me back. I don't understand the meaning of this strange custom at all. A stupid, senseless custom! The folly of the kings, who still have not abolished it, is incomprehensible to me. Judging by all probabilities, I guess I may have fallen into the hands of the Inquisition, and the one I took for the chancellor may be the grand inquisitor himself. Only I still cannot understand how a king can be made subject to the Inquisition. True, this might come from the French side, especially from Polignac. 8 Oh, he's a sly customer, Polignac! He's sworn to injure me as long as I live. And so he persecutes me, per- secutes me; but I know, friend, that you're being led by the Englishman. The Englishman is a great politician. He fusses about everywhere. The whole world knows that when England takes snuff, France sneezes.
The 25th. Today the grand inquisitor came to my room, but, hearing his footsteps from far off, I hid under a chair. Seeing I wasn't there, he began calling out. First he shouted, "Poprishchin!" but I didn't say a word. Then: "Aksenty Ivanovich! Titular councillor! Nobleman!" I kept silent. "Ferdinand VIII, king of Spain!" I wanted to poke my head out, but then thought, "No, brother, you're not going to hoodwink me! We know you: you'll pour cold water on my head again." Nevertheless, he saw me and chased me out from under the chair with his stick. That cursed stick is extremely painful. However, all this has been rewarded by my present discovery: I've learned that every rooster has his Spain, that it's located under his feathers. The grand inquisitor nevertheless left me in wrath and threatened me with some punishment. But I utterly ignored his impotent anger, knowing that he was acting mechanically, as the Englishman's tool.