Lord Malpas, Mr. W. B[ -- ], Mr. Percy, and Mr. Wilson, dined at the Palazzo Durazzo. The Princess pretends to think Mr. Percy very ugly: that is, because he is precisely otherwise. I wonder how he likes courtly favour. She told some excellent stories, but then, as usual, she degenerated into all sorts of idle talking, and she encourages laughing at the expense of propriety and delicacy. We went to the Opera late. For the first time the music was indifferent.