by Dava Sobel
BISHOP. I had no idea there was so much to it.
COPERNICUS. Then …
BISHOP. All these years, I thought you were just …
COPERNICUS. Do I have Your Reverence’s blessing to continue the work?
BISHOP. I suppose so. If what you say is true, then I suppose you should take it up again.
COPERNICUS. Thank you, Your Reverence.
BISHOP. I had no idea. How does that work, then? How does what you do relate to the date of Easter?
COPERNICUS. It concerns correcting the exact duration of the tropical year, from equinoctial and solstitial observations of …
BISHOP. Never mind that now.
COPERNICUS. I’m sure I could explain …
BISHOP. Yes, yes. So now I suppose you’ll need to find a press. A printer.
COPERNICUS. I hear there is an excellent one in Germany.
BISHOP. Tosh! Have we no printers here in Poland?
COPERNICUS. Mmm. None, I think, that could take on a work of this nature.
BISHOP. Such a book could bring very positive attention to Varmia. Not just Varmia. To Poland. To … It should definitely be printed here.
COPERNICUS. It’s such a lengthy work …
BISHOP. Who do you know in Germany?
COPERNICUS. For this kind of text, with the large number of diagrams required …
BISHOP. Aren’t you getting ahead of yourself? Don’t you think you should write this book before you worry about where to have it printed?
COPERNICUS. Yes, Your Reverence. There is much to be done.
BISHOP. So it’s a big book, is it?
COPERNICUS. I’ve already written several hundred pages, over the years.
BISHOP. As much as that?! My, my. And still not come to the end?
COPERNICUS. It’s … complex.
BISHOP. You know what I’m thinking, Nicholas? I’m thinking you’ll want to leaven your mathematical jargon with a little poetry. What do you think?
COPERNICUS. I hadn’t given it any thought.
BISHOP. Your book will need that literary touch. When the time comes, I shall compose verses for you to include, as an introduction. An invocation.
COPERNICUS. Your Reverence is too kind.
BISHOP. A scholarly book like this will surely attract the duke’s attention. He’ll see what talents we have here in … Why, the king himself might recognize the diocese for such a … How long do you think it will take you?
COPERNICUS. That is difficult to say. I’ll need help to complete the project.
BISHOP. You may have my secretary. I’ll put him at your disposal.
COPERNICUS. That’s not the kind of help that I …
BISHOP. Ah! You mean the mathematics part.
COPERNICUS. Yes, Your Reverence.
BISHOP. There’s no one fit to assist you with that.
COPERNICUS. I suspect, Your Reverence, that the unfortunate invalid who recently fell ill at my door might be …
BISHOP. Aha! Back to him again.
COPERNICUS. If he were amenable. And if Your Reverence will allow, I might ask him to stay on a while, as a collaborator.
BISHOP. Since when have you sought my approval on your house guests, Nicholas?
COPERNICUS. This is a special case.
BISHOP. And the harlot? I suppose she, too, is crucial to your new endeavor?
COPERNICUS. He is Professor of Mathematics at Wittenberg.
The BISHOP gasps.
COPERNICUS. I did not invite him here. As God is my witness, I had no idea he was coming. He materialized on my doorstep like a … like …
BISHOP. How you insult me! Abuse me!
COPERNICUS. It was all such a coincidence that it seemed it could not be merely coincidence … As though there were something … providential in his arrival.
BISHOP. Silence! You think Heaven has sent you a Lutheran to help you tell the world your crazy idea?
Beat.
BISHOP. Damn it all, Nicholas! Do you expect me to break my own law to accommodate you?
COPERNICUS. No one need know who he is. I promise to keep him out of sight. His presence will offend not a soul. I swear it.
BISHOP. You can’t have them both. Your choice, Nicholas. The harlot. Or the heretic. One or the other.
Blackout.
SCENE xi. TOWER ROOM
INFATUATION
The stars of the planetarium effect appear, start to spin, speeding up quickly.
FRANZ. Wheeeeeeeee!
RHETICUS. Is that fun?
FRANZ. Spin faster! Ooooooooooooh!
The lights slow to a stop.
FRANZ. A wwww.
RHETICUS. All right. One more time. Here we go.
Lights speed up, slow down, stop.
Stage lights return as RHETICUS opens the hatch and FRANZ pokes his head out of the Machine.
FRANZ. I still don’t understand it. But I love it. I love how it looks when it …
RHETICUS. Come on out now.
FRANZ. Can’t I go again?
RHETICUS. No, no. I have to get back to work.
RHETICUS pulls him out, kisses him.
RHETICUS. (patting FRANZ’s bottom) Run along now. But come back later.
FRANZ. I don’t have to run along.
RHETICUS. I mean it. I promised him I’d get through the superior planets before he …
FRANZ. And I promised His Reverence the bishop to observe you closely. I’m to report everything you do. Every little thing. So you see, I am at my post, doing my duty. I don’t have to run along anywhere.
They kiss again, embrace, make their way to the cot.
Blackout.
SCENE xii. COPERNICUS’S BEDROOM
PARTING
Anna stands stunned, pained.
COPERNICUS. It’s only for a little while.
ANNA. Only … ?
COPERNICUS. Just until he calms down. About the attempt on his life. You understand.
ANNA. But there was no attempt on his life. You said so yourself, he merely ate something rotten.
COPERNICUS. You know how irascible he is.
ANNA. How long will we be apart?
COPERNICUS. I don’t know. But, I think, the sooner we acquiesce, the faster the whole business will settle. And then we can be together.
ANNA. Promise?
COPERNICUS. You’ll see.
ANNA. But where am I supposed to go?
COPERNICUS. Bishop Giese has offered his …
ANNA. You have a place for me? Already?
COPERNICUS. It’s just that he offered. To help us.
ANNA. So. It’s all arranged. Everything settled.
COPERNICUS. I wouldn’t add that to your burden. Of course I looked into lodgings for you. Temporary lodgings.
ANNA. I don’t need new lodgings. This is where I live.
COPERNICUS. Anna …
ANNA. I have a right to be here.
COPERNICUS. I know that.
ANNA. What about him? He’s the one who should be run out of town.
COPERNICUS. That’s different. He’s ill.
ANNA. Maybe I should get sick.
COPERNICUS. Anna.
ANNA. Why shouldn’t I get sick? Then you’d have to take care of me, too.
COPERNICUS. No, Anna.
ANNA. Why not? Why couldn’t he have infected me? I bathed him, touched his clothing. And now, you see, now I, too, am too weak to travel.
COPERNICUS. No.
ANNA. Why not, Mikoj? You could have your own little hospital up there. With two patients instead of one. And that way, we could … That way, I wouldn’t have to be away from you a single night!
COPERNICUS. The bishop would see through that.
ANNA. That dog of a false priest. I see how he looks at me. That’s why he’s forcing you to send me away. That’s the real reason, the old lecher.
COPERNICUS. Has he touched you?
ANNA. I can read what’s on his mind, plain enough. But if I lie low, stay out of sight …
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COPERNICUS. Let’s not make this any more difficult than it is.
ANNA. Soon you’ll have to send your professor away, you know. How long do you think you can pretend that he’s just lying up there, unconscious? The bishop will find out. He has his spies, you know. Someone’s bound to see that you’re not tending to his fever when you go up there. What is it, Mikoj? Why are you looking at me like that? Surely you don’t think I would give you away? Oh, Mikoj, I’ll never tell a soul. You know I would never say or do anything that could hurt you.
COPERNICUS. I know that. I just wish it didn’t have to be this way.
They embrace, cling to each other.
ANNA. Come with me.
COPERNICUS. What?
ANNA. Come away with me. Let’s both go. Why should you grovel to him any longer?
COPERNICUS. You think I could simply walk away from here?
ANNA. Run away. Come and be with me where no one will care that we’re together. Leave all these nasty, nosy old men.
COPERNICUS. Leave the Church?
ANNA. We’ll make a new life. Our own life. Anywhere but here. Think of it, Mikoj. You could have a real hospital. I could be a midwife. We’ll get by. You’ll see.
COPERNICUS. I’m too old to change, Anna.
ANNA. Not so old.
COPERNICUS. We both knew, all along, that the two of us … that we could never have a life together.
ANNA. You won’t go with me?
COPERNICUS. I can’t.
ANNA. You can’t.
COPERNICUS. I’m sorry.
ANNA. You can’t. You! You turned the whole universe inside out and upside down. You told every planet which way to go. Are you still that man, Mikoj?
Blackout.
SCENE xiii. TOWER ROOM
DEDICATION
Several weeks later. The room looks more “lived in.” The manuscript has grown to several stacks of pages, more or less neatly arranged.
RHETICUS. I still say you make the case too quickly. You’ve got to work up to it. Broach the idea slowly.
COPERNICUS. I don’t want to pretend the book is something it’s not.
RHETICUS. You can’t just push the Sun to the center of the universe on page one.
COPERNICUS. That’s the whole point.
RHETICUS. Yes, but you’ve still got to build up to it, the way I tried to show you. You can’t just pluck the lantern of the universe, for God’s sake, from its place in the eternal, perfect heavens, and shove it into the Hell hole at the bottom of the world.
COPERNICUS. Later on, I explain why …
RHETICUS. Move the whole thing later. They’ll all turn against you if you don’t. They’ll be clinging for dear life to the old, immobile Earth. They’ll insist that the Earth belongs at the center because … because of its Earthiness. Because of all the change, and death, and decay. If you want to put the Sun there, in the midst of all that, you had better do it slowly.
Beat.
COPERNICUS. You mean I haven’t proven it. Mathematically.
RHETICUS. I didn’t say that.
COPERNICUS. But that’s what you mean. If the proofs were stronger, you wouldn’t be trying so hard to make it sound palatable.
RHETICUS. I want them to hear you out, to see what you’ve done. I’m begging you: Invite them into this new world. Don’t foist it on them.
COPERNICUS. Maybe it isn’t ready after all. Maybe this was all a big mistake.
RHETICUS. No, no. Don’t say that.
COPERNICUS. I don’t know what made me think I could …
RHETICUS. (going to him, taking his shoulders to encourage him) You mustn’t lose heart. You’ve got to leave a few stones unturned. Something for others who come after you to do. You’ve given us so much to build on. Your work is … It’s like that cathedral out there. Do you think anyone who laid the stones for the foundation was still around when the cross went up on top? Trust me, Father. A hundred years from now, astronomers will still be reading your book.
COPERNICUS. And you, Joachim?
RHETICUS. I will have read it a hundred times.
COPERNICUS. What will you do after we finish here?
RHETICUS. After? I will take your book to Nuremberg. I’ll watch over the printer, to keep him on his toes. I’ll proofread every page, I’ll …
COPERNICUS. After that.
RHETICUS. I don’t have to worry about anything after that.
COPERNICUS. You’ll go back to Wittenberg? To your teaching?
RHETICUS. No, Father. By that time … By then I’ll be …
COPERNICUS. What?
RHETICUS. There is no “after” for me, after that. Don’t you remember? By this time next year, when Jupiter and Saturn enter their Great Conjunction, my time will be …
COPERNICUS. You can’t still believe that.
RHETICUS. Nothing in your theory gives me a way out.
COPERNICUS. You can’t just resign from life. Acquiesce to some benighted …
RHETICUS. I have accomplished my mission. That’s something. Not many old men can say as much. I found you. I pulled your work out of the rubbish heap. And once I see it published, I’m done. It will no longer matter what happens to me.
COPERNICUS. You don’t know what will happen.
RHETICUS. But I do.
COPERNICUS. You could live a hundred years. You have no idea what the future holds for you.
RHETICUS. You’ve done everything you could do for me. The time with you has been …
COPERNICUS. Wait and see what happens to your career when Schöner and the rest of them read my acknowledgments to you.
RHETICUS. To me?
COPERNICUS. Of course to you.
RHETICUS. Oh, no. You mustn’t disclose my role in this.
COPERNICUS. You think I wouldn’t thank you, publicly, for all you did to …
RHETICUS. My name must not appear in your book. It would taint the whole thing.
COPERNICUS. I don’t care. I owe you …
RHETICUS. No. You have others you can thank, without inflaming the leaders of your Church.
COPERNICUS. Even the bishop knows how much you have …
RHETICUS. It’s not the bishop I’m worried about.
COPERNICUS. Luther?
RHETICUS. I have a new plan, for a dedication that you will write. To the real power.
COPERNICUS. You mean Duke Albert?
RHETICUS. No!
COPERNICUS. The king?
RHETICUS. No, no one from the government. The dedication must acknowledge higher powers. Someone in the Church.
COPERNICUS. Not the bishop?
RHETICUS. No! It’s bad enough we’re stuck with his doggerel verses.
COPERNICUS. Tiedemann?
RHETICUS. Not nearly powerful enough.
COPERNICUS. Who then, the pope?
RHETICUS. Yes!
COPERNICUS. I was joking, Joachim.
RHETICUS. I am perfectly serious.
Beat.
RHETICUS. He’s really the only one.
COPERNICUS. His Holiness?
RHETICUS. Paul Pontifex Maximus himself. To protect you. From those backbiters who will bend chapter and verse to evil purposes, and try to condemn your theory. Even though, we both know, there is nothing irreverent in your book, nevertheless there is the danger that someone will …
COPERNICUS. But … His Holiness.
RHETICUS. The mere mention of his name will lend the book the air of papal authority. It might even give people the impression that he had commissioned you to write it.
COPERNICUS. He would never do that.
RHETICUS. Still, it might appear that he had.
COPERNICUS. What could he possibly have to say about astronomy?
RHETICUS. He doesn’t have to say anything. You simply dedicate the book to him.
COPERNICUS. I couldn’t even do that without his express permission.
RHETICUS. Then we must get his permission.
COPERNICUS. He has the troubles
of the world on his shoulders. He’s gone and excommunicated the King of England.
RHETICUS. Your bishop must have representatives in Rome. Ambassadors to the Vatican? Someone who can get to him?
COPERNICUS. Even if we could get to him … He is consumed with a final solution to the Lutheran problem! I’m sorry, Joachim. Forgive me for …
RHETICUS. I have no love for him either. To me, he’s the Antichrist. But for your book … Trust me, Father. If you dedicate your studies to him, then you prove to everyone that you do not run away from judgment, even by the highest authority.
COPERNICUS considers this, smiles, then laughs. It’s the first good laugh he’s had in a long time, and he enjoys it.
RHETICUS, not sure of the joke, nevertheless joins in the laughter.
COPERNICUS hugs him, thumps his back, finally recovers enough breath to speak.
COPERNICUS. I’m just picturing the bishop’s face when I ask him to …
They both dissolve again. COPERNICUS gives RHETICUS a fatherly hug and goes to the door. They share one more laugh, nodding at each other, serious again.
Blackout.
SCENE xiv. BISHOP’S PARLOR
HERETICUS
BISHOP. That’s all he does?
FRANZ. Yes, Your Reverence.
BISHOP. Just … writes?
FRANZ. Sometimes he walks around, thinking. Often the doctor is there, too, and they talk. But most of the time he writes.
BISHOP. No one else comes to the room?
FRANZ. No, Your Reverence.
BISHOP. No messages from … anywhere?
FRANZ. Not that I have observed, Your Reverence.
BISHOP. And no sign of the … the, uh, the house keeper.
FRANZ looks down, shakes his head no.
BISHOP. Very well. You needn’t watch him quite so closely any longer.
FRANZ. No?
BISHOP. It’s time you got back to some of the tasks you’ve neglected. All right, then. You may tell the doctor I will see him now.
FRANZ exits.
COPERNICUS enters.
BISHOP. Come in, Nicholas. How are you getting along, you and Professor … Professor Hereticus?
COPERNICUS. Rheticus, Your Reverence. His name is Rheticus. And he is most grateful to Your Reverence for tolerating his presence all this time.
BISHOP. Don’t tell me you need another extension on the time?