December 1579
Sleep, sleep and more almost uninterrupted sleep, which hardly separates day from night. It seems a miracle to be able to sleep at last and I allow myself to yield to the voluptuous coils of that beguiling unconsciousness, which in latter months I had almost completely forgotten. The dreams and the anguish have disappeared. Lulled by the rhythmic movement of the waves, I manage to find the way towards complete surrender.
As I open my eyes, the idea comes to me that even life itself could be one colossal dream, made up of states of waking and sleeping, from which only death has the power to awaken us.
I feel lucid and stronger than I have felt for ages. The pain in my shoulder has almost disappeared and I want to move around. I have no idea how long I have been confined to
