11 April 1881 – 17 April 1881

Frightful night; the fourteenth running, in which I have been consumed by sleeplessness....

To-morrow is Good Friday, the festival of pain. I know what it is to spend days of anguish and nights of agony. Let me bear my cross humbly.... I have no more future. My duty is to satisfy the claims of the present, and to leave everything in order. Let me try to end well, seeing that to undertake and even to continue, are closed to me.