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	  <div class="unav"> <a href="../../index.html">The Galileo Project</a> &gt; 
        <a href="../../family.html">Family</a> &gt; <a href="../maria.html">Maria 
        Celeste Galilei</a> &gt; <a href="../daughter.html">Galileo's Daughter: 
        Letters and Essays</a> &gt; <a href="../letters/18oct1630.html">18 October 
        1630 </a></div>
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      <br>
      <p class="heading">Letters of Maria Celeste: </p>
      <p class="letterdate">18 October 1630</p>
      <p class="main_text">Most Beloved Lord Father 
      <p class="main_text">I am heartsick and worried, Sire, imagining how disturbed 
        you must be over the sudden death of your poor unfortunate worker. I assume 
        that you will use every possible precaution to protect yourself from the 
        danger, and I fervently urge you to make great effort in this endeavor; 
        I further believe that you possess remedies and preventatives proportionate 
        to the present threat, wherefore I promise not to dwell on the subject. 
        But still with all due respect and filial confidence I will exhort you 
        to procure the best remedy of all, which is the grace of blessed God, 
        by means of a thorough contrition and penitence. This, without doubt, 
        is the most efficacious medicine, not only for the soul, but for the body 
        as well: since, given that living happily is so crucial to the avoidance 
        of contagious illness, what greater happiness could one secure in this 
        life than the joy that comes of a clear and calm conscience? </p>
      <p class="main_text">It is certain that when we possess this treasure we 
        will fear neither danger nor death; and since the Lord justly chastises 
        us with these whips, we try, with His aid, to stand ready to receive the 
        blow from that mighty hand, which, having magnanimously granted us the 
        present life, retains the power to deprive us of it at any moment and 
        in any manner. Please accept these few words proffered with an overflowing 
        heart, Sire, and also be aware of the situation in which, by the Lord's 
        mercy, I find myself, for I am yearning to enter the other life, as every 
        day I see more plainly the vanity and misery of this one: in death I would 
        stop offending blessed God, and I would hope to be able to pray ever more 
        effectively, Sire, for you. I do not know but that this desire of mine 
        may be too selfish. I pray the Lord, who sees everything, to provide through 
        His compassion what I fail to ask in my ignorance, and to grant you, Sire, 
        true consolation. </p>
      <p class="main_text">All of us here are in good physical health, save for 
        Suor Violante, who is little by little wasting away: although indeed we 
        are burdened by penury and poverty, which take their toll on us, still 
        we are not made to suffer bodily harm, with the help of the Lord. </p>
      <p class="main_text">I am eager to know if you have had any response from 
        Rome, regarding the alms you requested for us. </p>
      <p class="main_text">Signor Corso [Suor Giulia's brother] sent a weight 
        of silk totaling 15 pounds, and Suor Arcangela and I have had our share 
        of it. </p>
      <p class="main_text">I am writing at the seventh hour: I shall insist that 
        you excuse me if I make mistakes, Sire, because the day does not contain 
        one hour of time that is mine, since in addition to my other duties I 
        have now been assigned to teach Gregorian chant to four young girls, and 
        by Madonna's orders I am responsible for the day-to-day conducting of 
        the choir: which last creates considerable labor for me, with my poor 
        grasp of the Latin language. It is certainly true that these exercises 
        are very much to my liking, if only I did not also have to work; yet from 
        all this I do derive one very good thing, which is that I never ever sit 
        idle for even one quarter of an hour. Except that I require sufficient 
        sleep to clear my head. If you would teach me the secret you yourself 
        employ, Sire, for getting by on so little sleep, I would be most grateful, 
        because in the end the seven hours that I waste sleeping seem far too 
        many to me. </p>
      <p class="main_text">I shall say no more so as not to bore you, adding only 
        that I give you my loving greetings together with our usual friends. </p>
      <p class="main_text">From San Matteo, the 18th day of October 1630. </p>
      <p class="main_text">Your most affectionate daughter, <br>
        S. M. Celeste </p>
      <p class="main_text"> The little basket, which I sent you recently with 
        several pastries, is not mine, and therefore I wish you to return it to 
        me. </p>
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