After he had left the room, Paul immediately volunteered caustically, “Ha!”
Obviously distracted by the previous conversation, Antonietta blurted, “What?”
“Oh, nothing. I was just musing,” he replied with a sly grin.
“Do you think that he suspects something,” she replied.
Still musing, Paul responded, “Well, offhand I’d say that’s a dead certainty. It is his job to be suspicious, after all.”
“Oh, shut up,” she replied in sudden good humor. “Stop acting like an idiot. This is serious!” But she was beginning to get over the tension of the moment already, at least in part due to Paul’s inanely upbeat behavior.
After a few moments, Paul carefully announced, “Soooo…”
“So what?” Antonietta shot back, still trapped within the confusion of their current situation.
“Oh, nothing. Just soooo…,” Paul repeated with implacably good humor. By now he was slouched down on the sofa, one leg dangling nonchalantly over the arm bolster, clearly enjoying himself immensely.
“Oh, just shut the fricking up!” Antonietta replied distractedly.
At this Paul howled with laughter, but when she turned so fast that her hair swirled about and looked him square in the eye, he shut up immediately.
She stood with her hands on her hips staring ominously at him for a few moments, and then she suddenly said, “What? Go ahead, spit it out.”
He suppressed a smile and said, “I have nothing to fricking say,” and he almost laughed at his own silly joke, but her stern gaze deterred him from doing so.
“One of these days, smart ass…one of these days, I’m going to wipe that stupid smile right off your face, you ,you…you, Professore, you.”
Paul stood up and wandered over to her and, halting directly in front of her, he suggested boldly, “No time like the present, Contessa.”
Her eyes blazing at him, she summarily raised her arm and smacked him with her open hand, pulling her blow at the last second so that it made a tiny hollow sound, in the process doing no damage whatsoever. Paul raised his hand to his face, rubbing where she had struck him with feigned pain. Acting as though he were sulking, he pronounced with outthrust lower lip, “I knew that Italian women were hot blooded, but I had no idea that their bark was stronger than their bite.”
“So, am I now a dog?” she replied with a serious gaze and a haughty toss of her head.
Paul whispered, “No, my dear Contessa, you are much more than that, oh, so much more.”
The two then waded into a convivial embrace, And after a few moments they stepped back, moments before Marco reentered the room. Having failed to observe their innocent but nonetheless suggestive embrace, he blurted guilelessly, “The credenza is still there. But they found the hidden board where the message was stored. Mama, tell me that you didn’t put it back in there!”
As if insulted by his question, she replied, “No, of course I didn’t. Is the credenza destroyed?”
“No, actually, they seem to have taken great care with it, contrary to their treatment of some of our other items.”
“That’s the first good news I’ve had today. I really do love that credenza. It has sentimental value for me,” she responded to no one in particular.
“Where is the poem?” Marco asked pointedly. “Is it safe?”
“Oh, yes, it’s safe. I left it in Ravenna in a very safe place,” she replied. At this admission it was Paul’s turn to squirm, but he wisely said nothing.
That night the three of them dined in Firenze. Paul was not a particular fan of hotel dining rooms, but he had to admit that the food was fabulous, and when he offered to pay for dinner the concierge announced that it was on the house.
Once they were out on the street, he turned to Antonietta and said, “What was that - another friend, Contessa?”
“No, Professore,” Antonietta replied, laughing. “My former husband owns that restaurant. They feel obligated to feed us for free.”
“But you’re no longer married to him,” Paul replied.
Antonietta gestured towards Marco, and said surreptitiously, “La famiglia.”
Paul tilted his head to one side, glanced at Marco, and simply nodded his understanding.
Chapter 9
Padova
Entities should not be multiplied beyond necessity.
-William of Ockham (c. 1288-1347)
Padova - 1592
Although Galileo had only been in Padova for two months, he nonetheless felt that he was emerging as a man of substance. His initial lectures to the faculty had been well received, the students seemingly taking to him even more so than his colleagues. His most exciting achievement thus far had been to gain the confidence of Gianvincenzo Pinelli, who was perhaps Padova’s most influential patron.
On this occasion Galileo had been invited to a dinner party for intellectuals at Pinelli’s villa. Galileo arrived at the villa giddy with anticipation. Pinelli’s library was said to be one of the best in Italia, containing more than 80,000 volumes. Galileo shed his coat with the valet and entered the great hall, where at least two dozen of Pinelli’s acquaintances had been assembled. Pinelli immediately came forward and shook Galileo’s hand vigorously, thereby demonstrating to one and all his support for the young mathematician.
“Welcome, Professore Galilei, welcome! Please, come in. I want to introduce you to some of my friends. This is Tommaso Campanella, author of the famous book.” Campanella greeted Galileo. “And here is our very own Cesar Cremonini, the Bo’s most accomplished academic.”
Galileo halted to shake his hand in hopes of conversing with him, but Pinelli continued to drag him about the room, introducing him to the entire group one by one.
Eventually, he came to a rather serious looking man, who stared implacably at Galileo. “And this, Professore Galilei, is our prodigal son Giordano Bruno. Having traveled throughout much of Europe, he has returned home to give us the benefit of his wisdom. Signore Bruno, I present our newest member of the faculty at the Bo, Professore Galilei.” The two shook hands somewhat guardedly. Galileo had heard of Bruno, especially regarding his outrageous views on the universe.
Bruno chanced to break the engulfing silence first, saying, “Welcome to the Venetian Empire, Professore. It seems that you have taken the Bo by storm. Your colleagues speak well of you.”
Galileo immediately felt out of his element, as if he were in the presence of a man of superior intellect, perhaps even to himself. This feeling was entirely new to him. He replied with apparent discomfort, “Thank you, Signore Bruno. I am here to learn all that there is to learn at the Bo. I am truly humbled to be a part of this highly regarded institution.”
At this Bruno smiled, recognizing implicitly that Galileo was cowed by him, and responded, “We must discuss astronomy when you have the time, Professore. What is your position regarding Nicolaus Copernicus?”
At this query Galileo was completely at a loss, replying, “Sir, I have read Der Revolutionobus, but I must in all honesty say that I have as yet seen no evidence to support the theory contained within.”
At this Bruno arched one eyebrow skyward and replied brusquely, “Yes, Professore, I see that we must talk more on this subject when time permits.” Those who were nearby chuckled deprecatingly, thereby demonstrably embarrassing Galileo.
Galileo immediately resolved to himself that he would study this radical theory of Copernicus in much more detail in order to avoid such discomfort in future. This he in fact did over the next few months, but he never again came across Signore Bruno, the latter having been spirited away by the Inquisition a short time thereafter.
On the Road to Padova - 1997
Paul and Antonietta pulled out of the villa driveway in the morning sunshine, the pair focused intently on the drive ahead. Despite the previous day’s unseemly events, Antonietta was in a pleasant mood, accentuated by her remark, "What a gorgeous day, Professore!" Accordingly, she tugged off her hat and let her hair fall free for
the long drive, feeling serenely happy for the first time in her recent memory. "I shall be so happy to see it again," she continued absentmindedly.
"Again? You've been there often, I take it?" Paul queried.
"Oh, yes, I lived there when I was young," she answered nonchalantly.
"You did?"
"Yes, I graduated from the University of Padova," she replied matter-of-factly.
Surprised at this, he responded, "Oh! I had no idea. I mean, don't get me wrong, I assumed that you were well educated, but I somehow didn't think beyond that."
"Yes, well, you've been distracted of late, so you are forgiven," she cracked, “After all, you are undeniably self-obsessed.”
Ignoring her jibe, he inquired, "What did you major in?"
"Foreign languages," she replied succinctly.
"Aha! Ergo, we have your near-perfect command of English. I wondered about that. But I do detect a hint of English accent now and then," he added, as if to imply that ‘English’ English is inferior to ‘American’ English. He thought for a moment, and then added, "But this is marvelous. You can tell me all about Padova. It's not my strong point, you know."
"Yes, you told me that. I wonder how you managed to miss it, given your encyclopedic knowledge of Italy in general."
"It was easy. I just didn't go there. Well, I did go there once, but that's all. Please, give me the benefit of your insight regarding Padova. Would you mind, Contessa?"
"Not at all, it's a fabulous city," she replied with a wistful smile. "Where do I begin? Let's see, well, it's the oldest city in Northern Italy, you know. The mythology is that it was founded by one of the soldiers from Troy. I forget his name, but that would have been around 1200 B.C."
"Excellent!" Paul put in enthusiastically.
Ignoring him, she continued reflectively, "Unfortunately, Padova has no natural protections such as a hilltop. That is an unfortunate circumstance for most of the cities in the Po Valley, the alluvial flow from the Alps having created the only large mass of level land in all of Italia. So when the Romans succumbed to the Huns and the Visigoths from the fifth century onwards, Padova successively fell into the hands of one after another of the invaders." She paused for a moment to pull her hair back yet again, and then she continued, "So you know what happened in The Middle Ages. Padova was passed from one empire to the next. There was plenty of fighting, death, and misery, just like everywhere else in Western Europe. But in 1387 John Hawkwood came to Padova. You know who he was, right?"
"Yes, of course, the English soldier of fortune," Paul replied matter-of-factly.
"Right. So he led the Padovans to victory at the Battle of Castagnano. A few years later they were absorbed into the Venetian Empire, and there they remained until that nasty little General Napoleon came to Italy in 1797 and defeated the Venetians. So that's a short history of the city."
She stopped for a moment to gather her thoughts, and then she continued, "Now for the history of the University. It was founded in 1222, and the story goes that it was formed by a group of students and professors who revolted against the authorities at the University of Bologna, which is as I'm sure you know the oldest university in the world."
"Yes, I know. The French and the English might take exception to that, but it's a semantical issue based on how you define a university. The fact is that Bologna began issuing degrees nearly a century before they did so anywhere else on Earth."
"Right, so you agree!"
"Yes, of course I do. Am I not half Italian?" he replied with a grin.
"Anyway," she continued, "The Bo, as it is called, is I think the eighth oldest university in the world. We were studying in Padova nearly three hundred years before your continent was discovered."
"Right, go ahead, rub it in," he responded good-naturedly. “I knew that it was called the Bo, which means ox in English, but do you know how it got its nickname?”
“Yes, of course,” she replied, as if it should have been obvious to him, “Everyone knows that.”
"Please, go on."
"Don't rush me," she replied, smiling. "I shall go at my own pace, despite the dizzying speed with which you set the pace when you are the Professore," and she threw him a placating grin, obviously relishing playing the role of educator for a change. "Now, where was I? Oh yes – The Bo. When the group of professors and students broke away from Bologna and moved to Padova, they had no place to set up the institution. So they initially used an inn called ‘The Inn of the Bo’, or something to that effect. It is not lost on students at the university that the inn was also a tavern. Thus, the murky underpinnings of the university are rooted in a less than reputable setting.”
“Interesting. Not many institutions of higher education can claim such a colorful – and lengthy, I might add - history.”
“Yes,” Antonietta replied, “We in Italia are very proud of The Bo. Quite a few famous people either studied or taught there, you know - people like Dante Alighieri, Nicolaus Copernicus, Francis Walsingham, Casanova, and of course, our Galileo."
"Wow! I didn't know that about Casanova and Walsingham," Paul replied. "My, Walsingham got around. I had no idea. You left out Cesare Cremonini, Antonietta."
"Cremonini, who is that?"
"He was one of Galileo's antagonists."
"Ah, tell me about him, Professore."
"Cremonini was what was called a peripatetic. That is a person who is a follower of the Aristotelian philosophy.”
“I take it you are not enamored with Aristotle?” she replied.
“Good question. Let me put it this way, I think that Aristotle was one of the great philosophers from antiquity, along with quite a few others, not the least of which were his predecessors Socrates and Plato. However, I think that he came up a bit short when it comes to science. And while it is not his fault, the somewhat mindless adulation that was heaped on Aristotle by the peripatetics during and after the Renaissance was regrettable, because it has come to reflect somewhat badly on both Aristotle and Galileo himself. As Galileo was heard to say on occasion, Aristotle himself would surely have been open to modification of his theories in the light of compelling evidence to the contrary.”
“Like what?” she queried.
“Well, the obvious examples, the ones that Galileo became obsessed with…let me see…I suppose that there were three. First, Aristotle said that heavy objects fall faster than light ones. Galileo disproved that conclusively using his inclined planes. Second, there was the Moon. Aristotle claimed that it was ‘a perfect disk’. Galileo showed that it was not in his publication The Starry Messenger, the one that made him world famous. As we know today, the Moon has mountains that are taller than any on Earth. Third, Aristotle said that the Earth was the center of the universe. This, of course, is the one that got Galileo into trouble because the Holy See was in agreement with Aristotle, and therefore also the peripatetics on this last issue due to several statements in The Bible, perhaps the most often cited is the line wherein Joshua, who had succeeded Moses as the leader of the Israelites, asked God to command the Sun and the Moon to stand still for a day so that the Israelites could defeat the Amorites at Gibeon.”
“I know that passage,” Antonietta replied. “It is a very powerful and important event described in the Old Testament.”
“Yes, and who knows whether it actually occurred or not,” Paul responded.
“Surely you don’t think that the Sun stood still?” she asked incredulously.
Paul glanced at her for a moment, contemplating how to answer her, and then he said, “Look, today we know that everything moves, when compared to something else. On the other hand, we could just as easily decide to claim that one object remains still, and everything else moves. As Einstein so aptly put it, ‘It’s all relative’.”
Antonietta just gazed at him for a moment, apparently encouraging him to continue, thus he did, adding, “Okay, here’s an example. See that Polizia car on the side of the road. Is it moving, or are we?”
“Tha
t’s obvious, It is sitting still. We are moving,” she replied impatiently.
“With respect to what?” Paul responded immediately.
She frowned at him, and then said, “I don’t understand…”
“Right,” he said brusquely, as if he knew how she would respond. “You automatically think that the police car is not moving because you are used to thinking of it as not moving with respect to the center of the Earth. But suppose we choose to measure its position with respect to the center of the Sun. Then both the police car and the Earth are moving.”
“Okay, but that would be stupid,” she answered.
“Perhaps from a physical standpoint you are correct. But what if it made the math easier? Then it might be better to do it that way, right?”
“Okay. Okay, maybe. So what is your point, Einstein?” she responded derisively.
Paul grinned at her and continued, “So that is more or less what happened. There was an astronomer named Ptolemy who wrote a fabulous book in the second century A.D. that used Aristotle’s Earth centered view to devise a mathematical model of the Solar System. Amazingly, it worked.”
“It worked? How could it work? That’s wrong!” she interjected.
“Actually, it wasn’t wrong, because everything is relative. We could in fact view the Earth as the center of the Solar System. And using Ptolemy’s math, the calculations all work out correctly. But here is the catch – it’s very complicated, and because of that it violates Ockham’s Razor.”
“Ockham’s Razor…what is that, some sort of cutting device?” she asked, completely mystified.
“In a manner of speaking, yes, Contessa. Ockham’s razor says essentially that if there are multiple solutions for a problem, the best solution is the easiest one that works. And that is why Copernicus’ book was so important, because it proposed a model for the Solar System that was not only as accurate as the Ptolemaic system, it was also dramatically simpler. I would go so far as to say that Newton would never have been able to come forth with his universal laws had he attempted to create them within the concepts embodied within the Ptolemaic Solar System.”
Galileo's Lost Message Page 19
