Brecht Collected Plays: 5: Life of Galileo; Mother Courage and Her Children (World Classics)

by Bertolt Brecht

  SAGREDO who has been walking around impatiently: Why’s that?

  PROCURATOR: Are you aware that this invention of yours which you said was the fruit of seventeen years of research can be bought on any street corner in Italy for a few scudi? Made in Holland, what’s more. There is a Dutch merchantman unloading 500 telescopes down at the harbour at this very moment.

  GALILEO: Really?

  PROCURATOR: I find your equanimity hard to understand, sir.

  SAGREDO: What are you worrying about? Thanks to this instrument, let me tell you, Mr Galilei has just made some revolutionary discoveries about the universe.

  GALILEO laughing: Have a look, Priuli.

  PROCURATOR: And let me tell you it’s quite enough for me to have made my particular discovery, after getting this unspeakable man’s salary doubled, what’s more. It’s a pure stroke of luck that the gentlemen of the Signoria, in their confidence that they had secured the republic a monopoly of this instrument, didn’t look through it and instantly see an ordinary streetseller at the nearest corner, magnified to the power of seven and hawking an identical tube for twice nothing. Galileo laughs resoundingly.

  SAGREDO: My dear Mr Priuli. I may not be competent to judge this instrument’s value for commerce but its value for philosophy is so boundless that …

  PROCURATOR: For philosophy indeed. What’s a mathematician like Mr Galilei got to do with philosophy? Mr Galilei, you did once invent a very decent water pump for the city and your irrigation system works well. The weavers too report favourably on your machine. So how was I to expect something like this?

  GALILEO: Not so fast, Priuli. Sea passages are still long, hazardous and expensive. We need a clock in the sky we can rely on. A guide for navigation, right? Well, I have reason to believe that the telescope will allow us to make clear sightings of certain stars that execute extremely regular movements. New star charts might save our shipping several million scudi, Priuli.

  PROCURATOR: Don’t bother. I’ve listened too long already. In return for my help you’ve made me the laughing-stock of the city. I’ll go down to history as the procurator who fell for a worthless telescope. It’s all very well for you to laugh. You’ve got your 500 scudi. But I’m an honourable man, and I tell you this world turns my stomach. He leaves, slamming the door.

  GALILEO: He’s really quite likeable when he’s angry. Did you hear that? A world where one can’t do business turns his stomach.

  SAGREDO: Did you know about these Dutch instruments?

  GALILEO: Of course, by hearsay. But the one I made these skinflints in the Signoria was twice as good. How am I supposed to work with the bailiffs in the house? And Virginia will soon have to have a dowry: she’s not bright. Then I like buying books about other things besides physics, and I like a decent meal. Good meals are when I get most of my ideas. A degraded age! They were paying me less than the carter who drives their wine barrels. Four cords of firewood for two courses on mathematics. Now I’ve managed to squeeze 500 scudi out of them, but I’ve still got debts, including some dating from twenty years back. Give me five years off to research, and I’d have proved it all. I’m going to show you another thing.

  SAGREDO is reluctant to go to the telescope: I feel something not all that remote from fear, Galileo.

  GALILEO: I’m about to show you one of the shining milk-white clouds in the Milky Way. Tell me what it’s made up of.

  SAGREDO: They’re stars, an infinite number.

  GALILEO: In Orion alone there are 500 fixed stars. Those are the countless other worlds, the remote stars the man they burned talked about. He never saw them, he just expected them to be there.

  SAGREDO: But even supposing our earth is a star, that’s still a long way from Copernicus’s view that it goes round the sun. There’s not a star in the sky that has another star going round it. But the moon does go round the earth.

  GALILEO: Sagredo, I wonder. I’ve been wondering since yesterday. Here we have Jupiter. He focusses on it. Round it we have four smaller neighbouring stars that are invisible except through the tube. I saw them on Monday but without bothering to note their position. Yesterday I looked again. I could swear the position of all four had changed. I noted them down. They’ve changed again. What’s this? I saw four. Agitated: Have a look.

  SAGREDO: I can see three.

  GALILEO: Where’s the fourth? There are the tables. We must work out what movements they might have performed. Excited, they sit down to work. The stage darkens, but Jupiter and its accompanying stars can be seen on the cyclorama. As it grows light once more they are still sitting there in their winter coats.

  GALILEO: That’s the proof. The fourth one can only have gone behind Jupiter, where it can’t be seen. So here you’ve a star with another one going round it.

  SAGREDO: What about the crystal sphere Jupiter is attached to?

  GALILEO: Yes, where has it got to? How can Jupiter be attached if other stars circle round it? It’s not some kind of prop in the sky, some base in the universe. It’s another sun.

  SAGREDO: Calm down. You’re thinking too quickly.

  GALILEO: What d’you mean, quickly? Wake up, man! You’re seeing something nobody has ever seen before. They were right.

  SAGREDO: Who, Copernicus and his lot?

  GALILEO: And the other fellow. The whole world was against them, and they were right. Andrea must see this! In great excitement he hurries to the door and shouts: Mrs Sarti! Mrs Sarti!

  SAGREDO turns the telescope away: Stop bellowing like an idiot.

  GALILEO: Stop standing there like a stuffed dummy when the truth has been found.

  SAGREDO: I’m not standing like a stuffed dummy; I’m trembling with fear that it may be the truth.

  GALILEO: Uh?

  SAGREDO: Have you completely lost your head? Don’t you realise what you’ll be getting into if what you see there is true? And if you go round telling all and sundry that the earth is a planet and not the centre of the universe?

  GALILEO: Right, and that the entire universe full of stars isn’t turning around our tiny little earth, anyone could guess.

  SAGREDO: In other words that it’s just a lot of stars. Then where’s God.

  GALILEO: What d’you mean?

  SAGREDO: God! Where is God?

  GALILEO angrily: Not there anyway. Any more than he’d be here on earth, suppose there were creatures out there wanting to come and look for him.

  SAGREDO: So where is God?

  GALILEO: I’m not a theologian. I’m a mathematician.

  SAGREDO: First and foremost you’re a human being. And I’m asking: where is God in your cosmography?

  GALILEO: Within ourselves or nowhere.

  SAGREDO shouting: Like the man they burned said?

  GALILEO: Like the man they burned said.

  SAGREDO: That’s what they burned him for. Less than ten years back.

  GALILEO: Because he couldn’t prove it. Because it was just a hypothesis. Mrs Sarti!

  SAGREDO: Galileo, ever since I’ve known you you’ve known how to cover yourself. For seventeen years here in Padua and three more in Pisa you have been patiently teaching the Ptolemaic system proclaimed by the Church and confirmed by the writings the Church is based on. Like Copernicus you thought it was wrong but you taught it just the same.

  GALILEO: Because I couldn’t prove anything.

  SAGREDO incredulously: And do you imagine that makes any difference!

  GALILEO: A tremendous difference. Look, Sagredo, I believe in Humanity, which means to say I believe in human reason. If it weren’t for that belief each morning I wouldn’t have the power to get out of bed.

  SAGREDO: Then let me tell you something. I don’t. Forty years spent among human beings has again and again brought it home to me that they are not open to reason. Show them a comet with a red tail, scare them out of their wits, and they’ll rush out of their houses and break their legs. But try making one rational statement to them, and back it up with seven proofs, and they’ll just lau
gh at you.

  GALILEO: That’s quite untrue, and it’s a slander. I don’t see how you can love science if that’s what you believe. Nobody who isn’t dead can fail to be convinced by proof.

  SAGREDO: How can you imagine their pathetic shrewdness has anything to do with reason?

  GALILEO: I’m not talking about their shrewdness. I know they call a donkey a horse when they want to sell it and a horse a donkey when they want to buy. That’s the kind of shrewdness you mean. But the horny-handed old woman who gives her mule an extra bundle of hay on the eve of a journey, the sea captain who allows for storms and doldrums when laying in stores, the child who puts on his cap once they have convinced him that it may rain: these are the people I pin my hopes to, because they all accept proof. Yes, I believe in reason’s gentle tyranny over people. Sooner or later they have to give in to it. Nobody can go on indefinitely watching me – be drops a pebble on the ground – drop a pebble, then say it doesn’t fall. No human being is capable of that. The lure of a proof is too great. Nearly everyone succumbs to it; sooner or later we all do. Thinking is one of the chief pleasures of the human race.

  MRS SARTI enters: Do you want something, Mr Galilei?

  GALILEO who is back at his telescope making notes; in a very friendly voice: Yes, I want Andrea.

  MRS SARTI: Andrea? He’s asleep in bed.

  GALILEO: Can’t you wake him up?

  MRS SARTI: Why d’you want him?

  GALILEO: I want to show him something he’ll appreciate. He’s to see something nobody but us two has seen since the earth was made.

  MRS SARTI: Something more through your tube?

  GALILEO: Something through my tube, Mrs Sarti.

  MRS SARTI: And I’m to wake him up in the middle of the night for that? Are you out of your mind? He’s got to have his sleep. I wouldn’t think of waking him.

  GALILEO: Definitely not?

  MRS SARTI: Definitely not.

  GALILEO: In that case, Mrs Sarti, perhaps you can help me. You see, a question has arisen where we can’t agree, probably because both of us have read too many books. It’s a question about the heavens, something to do with the stars. This is it: are we to take it that the greater goes round the smaller, or does the smaller go round the greater?

  MRS SARTI cautiously: I never know where I am with you. Mr Galilei. Is that a serious question, or are you pulling my leg again?

  GALILEO: A serious question.

  MRS SARTI: Then I’ll give you a quick answer. Do I serve your dinner or do you serve mine?

  GALILEO: You serve mine. Yesterday it was burnt.

  MRS SARTI: And why was it burnt? Because I had to fetch you your shoes in the middle of my cooking. Didn’t I fetch you your shoes?

  GALILEO: I suppose so.

  MRS SARTI: You see, you’re the one who has studied and is able to pay. Mrs Sarti, amused, goes off.

  GALILEO: Don’t tell me people like that can’t grasp the truth. They grab at it.

  The bell has begun sounding for early morning mass. Enter Virginia in a cloak, carrying a shielded light.

  VIRGINIA: Good morning, Father.

  GALILEO: Why are you up at this hour?

  VIRGINIA: Mrs Sarti and I are going to early mass. Ludovico’s coming too. What sort of night was it, Father?

  GALILEO: Clear.

  VIRGINIA: Can I have a look?

  GALILEO: What for? Virginia does not know what to say. It’s not a toy.

  VIRGINIA: No, Father.

  GALILEO: Anyhow the tube is a flop, so everybody will soon be telling you. You can get it for 3 scudi all over the place and the Dutch invented it ages ago.

  VIRGINIA: Hasn’t it helped you see anything fresh in the sky?

  GALILEO: Nothing in your line. Just a few dim little spots to the left of a large planet; I’ll have to do something to draw attention to them. Talking past his daughter to Sagredo: I might christen them ‘the Medicean Stars’ after the Grand-Duke of Florence. Again to Virginia: You’ll be interested to hear, Virginia, that we’ll probably be moving to Florence. I’ve written to them to ask if the Grand Duke can use me as his court mathematician.

  VIRGINIA radiant: At Court?

  SAGREDO: Galileo!

  GALILEO: My dear fellow, I’ll need time off. I need proofs. And I want the fleshpots. And here’s a job where I won’t have to take private pupils and din the Ptolemaic system into them, but shall have the time, time, time, time, time – to work out my proofs; because what I’ve got so far isn’t enough. It’s nothing, just wretched odds and ends. I can’t take on the whole world with that. There’s not a single shred of proof to show that any heavenly body whatever goes round the sun. But I am going to produce the proofs, proofs for everyone, from Mrs Sarti right up to the Pope. The only thing that worries me is whether the court will have me.

  VIRGINIA: Of course they’ll have you, Father, with your new stars and all that.

  GALILEO: Run along to your mass. Exit Virginia.

  GALILEO: I’m not used to writing to important people. He hands Sagredo a letter. Do you think this is well expressed?

  SAGREDO reads out the end of the letter:‘My most ardent desire is to be closer to you, the rising sun that will illuminate this age.’ The grand duke of Florence is aged nine.

  GALILEO: That’s it. I see; you think my letter is too submissive. I’m wondering if it is submissive enough – not too formal, lacking in authentic servility. A reticent letter would be all right for someone whose distinction it is to have proved Aristotle correct, but not for me. A man like me can only get a halfway decent job by crawling on his belly. And you know what I think of people whose brains aren’t capable of filling their stomachs.

  Mrs Sarti and Virginia pass the men on their way to mass.

  SAGREDO: Don’t go to Florence, Galileo.

  GALILEO: Why not?

  SAGREDO: Because it’s run by monks.

  GALILEO: The Florentine Court includes eminent scholars.

  SAGREDO: Flunkeys.

  GALILEO: I’ll take them by the scruff of the neck and I’ll drag them to the telescope. Even monks are human beings, Sagredo. Even they are subject to the seduction of proof. Copernicus, don’t forget, wanted them to believe his figures; but I only want them to believe their eyes. If the truth is too feeble to stick up for itself then it must go over to the attack. I’m going to take them by the scruff of the neck and force them to look through this telescope.

  SAGREDO: Galileo, I see you embarking on a frightful road. It is a disastrous night when mankind sees the truth. And a delusive hour when it believes in human reason. What kind of person is said to go into things with his eyes open? One who is going to his doom. How could the people in power give free rein to somebody who knows the truth, even if it concerns the remotest stars? Do you imagine the Pope will hear the truth when you tell him he’s wrong, and not just hear that he’s wrong? Do you imagine he will merely note in his diary: January 10th 1610 – got rid of heaven? How can you propose to leave the Republic with the truth in your pocket, risking the traps set by monks and princes and brandishing your tube. You may be a sceptic in science, but you’re childishly credulous as soon as anything seems likely to help you to pursue it. You don’t believe in Aristotle, but you do believe in the Grand Duke of Florence. Just now, when I was watching you at the telescope and you were watching those new stars, it seemed to me I was watching you stand on blazing faggots; and when you said you believed in proof I smelt burnt flesh. I am fond of science, my friend, but I am fonder of you. Don’t go to Florence, Galileo.

  GALILEO: If they’ll have me I shall go.

  On a curtain appears the last page of his letter:

  In giving the noble name of the house of Medici to the new stars which I have discovered I realise that whereas the old gods and heroes were immortalised by being raised to the realm of the stars in this case the noble name of Medici will ensure that these stars are remembered for ever. For my own part I commend myself to you as one of your loyalest and most hu
mble servants who considers it the height of privilege to have been born as your subject.

  There is nothing for which I long more ardently than to be closer to you, the rising sun which will illuminate this epoch.

  Galileo Galilei.

  4

  Galileo has exchanged the Venetian Republic for the Court of Florence. His discoveries with the telescope are not believed by the court scholars

  The old says: What I’ve always done I’ll always do. The new says: If you’re useless you must go.

  Galileo’s house in Florence. Mrs Sarti is preparing Galileo’s study for the reception of guests. Her son Andrea is sitting tidying the star charts.

  MRS SARTI: There has been nothing but bowing and scraping ever since we arrived safe and sound in this marvellous Florence. The whole city files past the tube, with me mopping the floor after them. If there was anything to all these discoveries the clergy would be the first to know. I spent four years in service with Monsignor Filippo without ever managing to get all his library dusted. Leather bound books up to the ceiling – and no slim volumes of poetry either. And that good Monsignor had a whole cluster of sores on his bottom from sitting and poring over all that learning; d’you imagine a man like that doesn’t know the answers? And today’s grand visit will be such a disaster that I’ll never be able to meet the milkman’s eye tomorrow. I knew what I was about when I advised him to give the gentlemen a good supper first, a proper joint of lamb, before they inspect his tube. But no: she imitates Galileo: ‘I’ve got something else for them.’ There is knocking downstairs.

  MRS SARTI looks through the spyhole in the window: My goodness, the Grand Duke’s arrived. And Galileo is still at the University.

  She hurries down the stairs and admits the Grand Duke of Tuscany, Cosimo de Medici, together with his chamberlain and two court ladies.

  COSIMO: I want to see that tube.

  CHAMBERLAIN: Perhaps your Highness will possess himself until Mr Galilei and the other university gentlemen have arrived. To Mrs Sarti: Mr Galilei was going to ask our astronomers to test his newly discovered so-called Medicean stars.