Archive of Our Own

The astronomer had been a subject of fascination for Ludovico for a long while. However, fascination had turned into infatuation and so on and so forth.

It was a warm afternoon, just the perfect mood to try and write a letter of love:  

Dear Signor Galileo, 

I believe it's time I try and convey what you know I feel for you on to paper.

I hope you're willing to listen to me without my direct presence. You are a clever man. I believe we would be well matched.

No, that wouldn't do. The beginning was far too long and not erotic enough for the older man's tastes. He wouldn't even been considered by Galileo if he sent him something as trite as that. He had to sink into some sort of debauched state if Marsili was to impress.

*---*

Dear Galileo, 

I need you to know the depths of my desires as I don't think you comprehend the sheer weight of my lusting for you.

That was far too much far too quickly. Yes, Galileo liked the pleasures of the flesh yet this was too straight to the point even by those standards. It was possible the astronomer preferred that sort of thing. Nevertheless, Marsili didn't dare gamble with such a precious matter. He couldn't be too honey-soaked or riled up in his words; achieving a balance of lust and genuine adoration seemed easier said than done.

*---*

It had been three days since Ludovico's second attempt. He thought it was the perfect time to attempt writing to the heretic for a third time now he'd let his thoughts lie for a while.

Darling Signor Galilei,

I am writing to inform you that my marriage to Virginia is unwanted. Rather, I want you to ravish me and make me wholly yours! We're both clever men - you exceedingly so. I believe I could learn a lot from you and that we could be reasonably happy together.

I wish you to devote yourself to me as opposed to your planetary delusions. The Earth controls everything. Don't deny it. This childish excitement is over nothing but a mind trick. That telescope is faulty. I find you accusing the Church of being incorrect disgusting. Yet I still want to share a marriage bed with you.

I send prayers up to God whilst I write to you. For Him to forgive my love of you.

It isn't a passing fancy. This is a genuine obsession, a fascination almost.

I want to dissect your mind if we ever share this life together.

Yours Forever and Always,

Ludo ❤︎ 

It was good. Just a little too short and abit too honey-soaked at the end. Marsili felt his face grow warm once he realised how much he'd lent into the heresy aspect of his addressee's opinions. The first sentences can stay, he thought, but the rest has to go or be worded into something more lusty or affectionate.

*---*

As soon as Marsili had finished supper, he went back upstairs to write.

Darling Signor Galilei,

I am writing to inform you that my marriage to Virginia is unwanted. Rather, I want you to ravish me and make me a permanent resident in your bedchamber. We're both clever men - you exceedingly so. I believe I could learn a lot from you and that we could be reasonably happy together.

Your conduct and beliefs about the planets make me concerned for your future. It's a shame you're willing to sacrifice such a gorgeous brain for something that goes against God. You'll have to forget it once I'm yours. I submit to you, my heart, soul and body. The Husband is the Head of the Wife and God is the Head of the Husband. If you go back to this nonsense, God and His Holiness will never forgive you and neither will I. Don't throw my love to the wind, Signore. You'll lose it if you do.

I understand if you're hesitant to give it up. All men have their vices. Even me. I love wine and you. You love sex and your telescope. And also wine.

Your response will determine everything.

Yours Dutifully and Eternally Devoted, 

Ludovico Marsili ~❤︎ 

That was better. Not quite perfect, though. Maybe it should be longer?

*---*

A week passed before Marsili picked up his pen again. He'd heard murmurings about Galileo's ongoing and frequent... relations with some of his male assistants. It made his stomach knot with jealously. Ludovico knew Galileo slept around in the past but if these were true, it meant he had competition. And quite a lot of it. Maybe it only happened ( if it had happened, of course ) because intellectuals like the astronomer were an isolated group who scoffed at anyone who wasn't in their circle. Intellectuals of the "scientific" sort, like Galileo, were heretics. Why did he feel so jealous? The older man was a heretic. Why did he love a heretic? God was punishing him. And for what? He sat so diligently in his family's pew at Church every chance he had. Temptation was bringing him to ruin. And for what?

Dearest Signor Galileo Galilei,

I must inform you of my desires and the many thoughts about you that have consumed me constantly. I no longer wish to marry Virginia. Instead, I want to indulge in wine from the vineyard you love and get married in secret. I do not doubt that  you know some people in the Church who are sympathetic to your preferred partner for certain activities or may even prefer it themselves. I, myself, know of no such clergymen. Again, I have no doubt you do.

Do men and women alike throw themselves at you? I presume so. You speak of lust so freely. I should find it disgusting yet it intrigues me. If you steer yourself back into the Church's favour and into my arms, we will be very happy. I am aware that we've argued. All couples do. Even my parents, who have been married for approximately around a quarter of the current Pope's reign, bicker on ocassion. It's probable they've been married for a slightly shorter amount of time. Unlike you, Mathematics are not my strong suit. I hope you can teach me a little of how it works. That would make me very happy. More happy than I can word in this letter or anywhere. 

I would love to cuddle with you on warm summer days and cold winter nights. My love is not a passing affair. It lingers like a cold that doesn't want you to recover. I suppose love is a sickness. And it's a food you indulge much in, albeit in the carnal way. If you cease your work, I'd be more than happy to wed you in utmost secret.

Ravish me on our wedding night and in our wedding bed, whenever and wherever that may be.

Yours Faithfully, Eternally and Duitfully,

Ludovico Cosimo Amadeo Marsili 

At last! This letter was the perfect, perfect product for his object of affection. Galileo would get over the hurdle of the fact of his wealth and also the matter that he was nearly his son-in-law.

*---*

A month and maybe a little more had gone by before he got a response. It was not at all what Ludovico had wanted. The complete opposite, in fact.

Signor Marsili,

I found myself scoffing and laughing at your letter.

It's not even the very idea of being married to you makes me ill. It's the fact you exist that makes my stomach feel unwell. Not even the movements of the planets can fix that.

I have this scenario I keep replaying in my head of this wedding between us that you so desperately want:

I'm standing at the alter, bored out of my brains. And the moment you lift your veil, I violently vomit into the font. This consequently horrifies both you and the priest, causing you to get extremely embarrassed and awkwardly walk out of the church as if you've been caught doing something naughty.

Speaking of naughty..

Were you ever spanked you as a child? Your behaviour makes me think you weren't. I believe it would've put something in your head to rights. You are the most pathetic and one of the hypocritical men in this country. You're not just an idiot. You're a rich idiot.

You don't love me, Ludovico. I just simply excite you.

The rich don't know intellectuals nor how they work. Me and my assistants are just cheap entertainment to people like you. My cock is more worthy of being gawked at. You've taken my dignity from me by sending me this so all I have left is my undignified naked body that doesn't belong to anyone, not even the Lord himself. 

I understand things you will never even grasp. I know what I know and you don't want to know it.

That simple fact means we could never be together.

Ludovico, you make me go flaccid and everything about your person causes bile to scratch at my throat, ever eager to escape me and make itself present in the world.

I plead with you to never write me again.

The Man Who Hates You Most,

𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒐 𝒅𝒊 𝑽𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒛𝒐 𝑩𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒊𝒖𝒕𝒊 𝒅𝒆' 𝑮𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒍𝒆𝒊

P.S: It should be noted that the world I was referring to is the one that revolves around the Sun and the one where I hate you fervently. Not your fantasyland where the Earth plays dominatrix and I fall into your arms.

P.S. 2: My assistants find you ridiculous. And I believe you heard the rumours about me screwing them, they're true. Shame they're the ones being screwed by me, not you. So there! I've snatched my dignity back!