A More Perfect Heaven

by Dava Sobel

  COPERNICUS. I have … nothing to say.

  RHETICUS. You are too modest, sir. What you’ve done … Why, you have made the greatest leap in astronomy since … Ptolemy introduced the equant. (brandishing the letters) Everyone speaks of you. “The Polish canon,” they call you, “who spins the Earth and makes the Sun and stars stand still.” They say you’ve been working at your thesis for more years than I’ve lived.

  COPERNICUS. I’m finished with all that now.

  RHETICUS. You’ve finished? You’re ready to release the details?

  COPERNICUS. There’s nothing here for you, Professor. You should go back to Wittenberg. I’m sure your students miss you.

  RHETICUS. With all due respect, sir. Classes are suspended for the summer holiday. And besides, I have been on special leave the past two semesters, on a personal mission, meeting with the most learned mathematicians of our time. I believe that you, sir, are the culmination of my quest. The very key to the perfection of the heavenly spheres.

  Beat.

  RHETICUS. Sir, I seek to restore the queen of mathematics, that is, Astronomy, to her palace, as she deserves, and to redraw the boundaries of her kingdom.

  COPERNICUS. I can’t help you.

  RHETICUS. Only you can help me.

  COPERNICUS. Good night, Professor.

  COPERNICUS starts for his door.

  RHETICUS. And I can help you, too. Let me tell you my plan.

  COPERNICUS. I wish you a safe journey.

  RHETICUS. Hear me out!

  COPERNICUS. Hush. I’m telling you, for your own safety, to leave this place. RHETICUS. In the middle of the night? After I’ve traveled weeks just to find you?

  Blackout.

  SCENE iii. INSIDE COPERNICUS’S HOUSE GIFTS

  Moments later, COPERNICUS enters the main room of the house (not as ornate as the BISHOP’s palace, though comfortable).

  The house is dimly lit, but very gradually, through the scene, dawn begins to lighten the room.

  RHETICUS follows

  COPERNICUS into the room.

  COPERNICUS. You can spread out your bedding in there.

  RHETICUS. I’m not the least bit tired. I wonder whether we could just take a few moments to …

  COPERNICUS. In the pantry, you’ll find some bread. You may take what you need for your …

  RHETICUS. Oh! I almost forgot! In all the confusion, sir, I never gave you the gifts I brought.

  COPERNICUS. I can’t accept gifts.

  RHETICUS. (pulling books from his satchel) You must. This is Ptolemy.

  COPERNICUS. Thank you, but no. I have studied Ptolemy, of course. Every astronomer has studied …

  RHETICUS. You would have read a Latin translation, from the Arabic or Hebrew. This is the original Greek text.

  COPERNICUS. Oh?

  RHETICUS. Only recently recovered and now published for the first time.

  COPERNICUS. Let me just have a look at that.

  RHETICUS. And this is Euclid’s Geometry, also in Greek. And here, Regiomontanus, on triangles. I love the part at the beginning, where he says, “No one can bypass the science of triangles and reach a satisfying knowledge of the stars.”

  COPERNICUS. These are magnificent volumes.

  RHETICUS. I chose the ones I knew you would like, Canon sir.

  COPERNICUS. I couldn’t. I … You keep them for your own library.

  RHETICUS. I’ve already inscribed them to you.

  COPERNICUS. (reading) “To N. Copernicus, my teacher …” Your teacher?

  RHETICUS. I was hoping …

  COPERNICUS. I have no students.

  RHETICUS. I know that, sir.

  COPERNICUS. No followers of any kind.

  RHETICUS. That is why I have come.

  COPERNICUS. I’m sorry, Professor.

  RHETICUS. To be your disciple. Whatever problems have interfered, kept you from bringing your work to completion, I want to help you solve them. I showed you my letters. Even Melanchthon says I have exceptional aptitude.

  COPERNICUS. Philip Melanchthon?!

  RHETICUS. “The teacher of Germany,” yes.

  COPERNICUS. Luther’s own chosen successor? His right hand?! RHETICUS. He said I was born to study mathematics.

  COPERNICUS. Tell me, Professor: Are you on intimate terms with Luther, too?

  RHETICUS. Oh, now I see what you … But I swear to you, sir, I do not share the Reverend Luther’s opinion of your ideas. No, indeed.

  COPERNICUS. Martin Luther has an opinion about my … ?

  RHETICUS. It’s only his opinion. Whereas, I feel, astronomy requires precisely the kind of bold new approach that you take.

  COPERNICUS. What does he say about it?

  RHETICUS. Oh. Things come up at faculty meetings. Lunches. At table. You know how it is.

  COPERNICUS. No.

  RHETICUS. Someone gave him the gist of it, and …

  COPERNICUS. And?

  RHETICUS. Well …

  COPERNICUS. What did he say?

  RHETICUS. He said, only a fool would turn the whole of astronomy upside down, merely for the sake of novelty.

  Beat.

  COPERNICUS. I suppose “fool” is a mild insult, coming from him.

  RHETICUS. And of course he knows nothing of mathematics. He only rejected your theory because it contradicts the Bible. He quoted Joshua 10:12. You know the part, where Joshua says, “Sun, stand thou still upon Gibeon.”

  COPERNICUS. Yes, yes. I know it all too well.

  RHETICUS. “And thou, Moon, in the valley of Ajalon.”

  COPERNICUS & RHETICUS. (together) “And the Sun stood still.”

  RHETICUS. Exactly, sir. The Sun stood still. And that’s his point. Because, if the Sun were already standing still, as you claim, then why would Joshua have commanded it to do so?

  COPERNICUS. Why do you think?

  RHETICUS. I say, mathematics is for mathematicians. Scripture doesn’t enter into it.

  COPERNICUS. Is that what you told him?

  ANNA enters the room, in robe, shawl, and nightcap, carrying a candle.

  ANNA. Is everything all right?

  COPERNICUS. (going to her) Anna. What are you doing up at this hour?

  ANNA. Have you been hurt, Mikoj?

  RHETICUS. She wouldn’t let me in when I arrived.

  COPERNICUS. It’s nothing.

  ANNA. What happened?

  COPERNICUS. I sprained it, that’s all.

  RHETICUS. I thought she was going to throw water on me.

  ANNA. He came to the door after you left.

  RHETICUS. I tried to tell her I was only …

  ANNA. I was afraid to let him in.

  COPERNICUS. You did the right thing.

  While ANNA and COPERNICUS talk, RHETICUS fishes in his satchel for some papers.

  ANNA. What does he want?

  COPERNICUS. He? He’ll be leaving in just a few …

  ANNA. What about the bishop?

  COPERNICUS. Oh!

  ANNA. Not … ?

  COPERNICUS. No, no. He’s … resting. Go back to bed, dear. I’m sorry we woke you.

  ANNA. I’ve been waiting up worrying the whole night, Mikoj.

  COPERNICUS. Everything’s all right now.

  ANNA. I don’t like the look of him.

  COPERNICUS. I’ll take care of this. Don’t worry.

  Reluctantly, ANNA exits.

  COPERNICUS. I hate to be inhospitable, Professor. I wish …

  RHETICUS. There’s something else I brought you, sir.

  COPERNICUS. No, please. No more gifts.

  RHETICUS. These are from Schöner. Some recent observations he collected, of Mercury. He insisted that I give them to you.

  COPERNICUS takes the sheets of paper, studies them.

  RHETICUS. He didn’t make the observations himself. He said he got them from someone else, but he remembered that you always wanted …

  COPERNICUS shakes his head with wonder, nods in admiration, sighs.

  RH
ETICUS. He said you’d be pleased. He was sure you would. You haven’t really given it up, have you, sir? You must still be working on it. Am I right? Sir?

  COPERNICUS. Hm?

  RHETICUS. I said, you haven’t quit. Have you? It’s just taking time. Isn’t that right? That’s why I thought I could …

  COPERNICUS. No. I’m sorry. Even if I wanted to, I … My hands are tied. The bishop, you see, has … He, uh … I’m afraid there’s no nice way to say this, Professor. The bishop has banished Lutherans from this diocese.

  RHETICUS. What has that got to do with me?

  COPERNICUS. You mean you’re not? Lutheran?

  RHETICUS. I’m not looking to settle down here. I just want to talk to you, about your work.

  COPERNICUS. Even that would not be … No.

  RHETICUS. I’m a mathematician, not a theologian. Couldn’t you explain that to him? Perhaps he would grant us a … What do you call it? An indulgence?

  COPERNICUS. A dispensation. But, no. There’s no chance of that.

  RHETICUS. Oh, please try. You can promise him that our discussions will have nothing to do with faith. We’ll limit ourselves strictly to arithmetic and geometry. The wings of the human mind. On such wings as those, we can transcend our religious differences. Transcend all religious differences. Didn’t Abraham teach astronomy to the Hebrews? And Moses, another Jew? And Heaven knows, all those Islamic astronomers, praying to their Allah five times a day, then watching the stars all night. Even going back to the Egyptians, the Greeks! Prometheus and the theft of divine fire! The very crime for which he suffered an eagle to devour his liver! What does that mean, if not that Prometheus delivered the light of astronomy to mortals?

  Beat.

  COPERNICUS. How young you are, Professor.

  RHETICUS. You’re not afraid to talk to him, are you?

  COPERNICUS. I? I am the bishop’s personal physician.

  RHETICUS. Well, then.

  COPERNICUS. I was summoned to his side tonight, after he was “poisoned” by a Lutheran spy.

  RHETICUS. No!

  COPERNICUS. No. It was nothing like that. But knowing the intimate details of his digestion gives me no leverage to sway his opinion. On any subject.

  RHETICUS. (kneeling) Please try! I implore you. If you do, I swear I will …

  COPERNICUS. Come, Professor. You must leave off this genuflecting and swearing. Remember, you are not a Catholic, and I am not a priest.

  RHETICUS. You’re not?

  COPERNICUS. Only minor orders. Never ordained. But I do administer the cathedral’s business affairs. I’m an officer of the Church. I cannot harbor a heretic.

  Beat.

  COPERNICUS. I’m sorry if I’ve offended you. I meant no disrespect for your beliefs.

  RHETICUS. You mean … I’d be a danger to you?

  COPERNICUS. You are a danger to yourself, young man. Rushing off to unknown places, knocking on strangers’ doors, shouting about missions and quests.

  RHETICUS. I only meant to …

  COPERNICUS. (picking up satchel, pressing it on RHETICUS) Now you be careful on the roads, mind you. Watch out for yourself out there.

  RHETICUS. You won’t let me stay after all?

  COPERNICUS. I’m sorry to disappoint you.

  RHETICUS. What will I do now? How will I ever … ? Oh, God!

  COPERNICUS. If you really want to pursue my ideas, why don’t you write to me? After you get back to Wittenberg, you could … I don’t mean write directly. You would need to send your letters through an intermediary. Perhaps Schöner would agree to serve as a … a point of contact for us. I would like that.

  COPERNICUS goes to RHETICUS, puts a friendly arm around his shoulders, to shore him up.

  COPERNICUS. Now then, Professor. Gather your things. Take the books, please. I could not keep them in good conscience. I hate to send you away like this. But we are victims of these times.

  RHETICUS glumly does as he’s told. Together they walk to the door. When COPERNICUS opens it, daylight floods the room.

  COPERNICUS. Oh, for Heaven’s sake!

  COPERNICUS shuts the door and pushes RHETICUS back into the room.

  COPERNICUS. You can’t go now!

  RHETICUS. Sir?

  COPERNICUS. It’s too late. Look! Daylight already. I’ll have to … Where … ? I know!

  COPERNICUS moves aside a bench to reveal a trapdoor, which he struggles, unsuccessfully, to open.

  RHETICUS watches, dumbfounded.

  COPERNICUS. Help me!

  RHETICUS snaps to and pulls on the trapdoor until it opens.

  COPERNICUS. Now come this way. Hurry.

  They disappear through the trapdoor, closing it behind them.

  The stage is empty for a moment as the dawn light continues to brighten. An all-male choir can be heard chanting Matins.

  Someone knocks urgently at the front door.

  ANNA enters from an interior room, dressed, tying on an apron.

  ANNA. Who’s there?

  She looks around the room, replaces the bench, tries to restore normal order, goes to the door.

  FRANZ. (entering) Oh, Miss Anna! You’re still here.

  FRANZ throws his arms around her, as a child to a mother, near tears.

  ANNA. What is it, pet? What’s the matter?

  FRANZ. You’re here. You’re still here.

  ANNA. There, there, now. Where else would I be?

  FRANZ. I don’t know. Oh, Miss Anna, I don’t want you to go away.

  ANNA. What’s got into my brave little man? Oh, poor lamb. There, there.

  FRANZ. He said you had to go away.

  ANNA. Who said such a thing?

  FRANZ. The bshop said.

  ANNA. The bishop?

  FRANZ. I heard him.

  ANNA. No.

  FRANZ. He did. He told the doctor to make you go away. Oh, please don’t go, Miss Anna! Please don’t go.

  Blackout.

  SCENE iv. THE BISHOP’S BEDROOM

  TWO BBISHOPS

  The BISHOP, in his bed, tosses in the throes of a nightmare.

  A knock at the door exaggerates the terror of his dream, but also wakes him, and he cries out.

  GIESE. (offstage) So sorry to disturb you …

  The BISHOP slowly recognizes his surroundings, comes out of the dream.

  GIESE. (opening the door) It’s the day of our chess game, Johann. Remember? May I come in?

  BISHOP. (throwing off the bedclothes, sitting up) No.

  GIESE. (entering) What’s the matter with you? Why are you still in bed?

  BISHOP. Did the boy let you in?

  GIESE. Are you ill?

  BISHOP. Yes. No! But I feel addled. Like a horse kicked me in the head. GIESE. We should send for Nicholas to come and examine you.

  FRANZ enters with a pitcher and basin, sets them on a washstand, exits.

  BISHOP. Nicholas was here all night. An awful night I had. Some cursed Lutheran tried to poison me.

  GIESE. Poison?!

  BISHOP. Tried to kill me. And very nearly succeeded.

  GIESE. Heaven forbid.

  BISHOP. Agh! I ask you, Tiedemann: If I’m not safe in my own dining room, where am I safe? Lutherans everywhere. In the kitchen. In the soup.

  GIESE. Have you apprehended a suspect?

  BISHOP. I can’t tell who is trustworthy anymore. I may have to torture someone to get at the truth.

  The BISHOP rises, goes to the washstand, and, through the following dialogue, removes his nightshirt, grooms himself.

  GIESE. Are you sure it was poison? What did Nicholas say?

  BISHOP. Nicholas! His skills may combat a single instance of poisoning. And thank God for that. But his medicaments cannot stanch the spread of the Lutheran plague. It oozes and festers all around us. As God is my witness, it has reached epidemic proportions!

  GIESE. You talk like a soldier, Johann.

  BISHOP. And you, Tiedemann! You sit idly by, and watch. You do nothing to stem the tide.

>   GIESE. What would you have me do? Lay siege to Wittenberg?

  BISHOP. You have still not adopted my edict in your diocese. Have you?

  GIESE. Now, Johann.

  BISHOP. You won’t do even that much.

  GIESE. You know how I feel about …

  BISHOP. We’re the only ones left, Tiedemann. You and I. We’re the last holdouts in the whole region. Every other bishop, to a man, has bowed to that dev il Luther. God help us, even the duke has converted. We are surrounded. We must crush the menace.

  GIESE. We are men of God, Johann.

  BISHOP. The Church calls us to her defense. I need your support. As long as you allow Lutherans to live and work in Kulm …

  GIESE. Our Lutherans in Kulm don’t cause any trouble. They just …

  BISHOP. Listen to me, Tiedemann. If we have trouble here in Varmia, you have trouble in Kulm. We have the same troubles, you and I. How do you know my assassin wasn’t one of your Lutherans?

  GIESE. These are peasant farmers. Merchants. Tradesmen. The same people who have lived among us for generations, since long before …

  BISHOP. They have betrayed us, by betraying the Church. You cannot let them go about with impunity.

  GIESE. In your heart, you know there’s a better path to reconciliation with our Protestant brethren.

  BISHOP. Oh, please, Tiedemann! When will you face the facts?!

  GIESE. We’re all Christians in the eyes of God.

  BISHOP. Haven’t the past twenty years taught you anything? That sniveling little monk! He has whined and complained and … and gained himself a huge following! How did it happen? Hm? Who ever thought anyone would listen to him? Now look at him. He sings a few hymns, and half the continent thinks he’s the Second Coming.

  The BISHOP finishes his grooming, throws down his towel like a gauntlet.

  BISHOP. It’s an abomination.

  GIESE. The Church has weathered worse storms before this. If we are steadfast in our faith, and treat our fellow citizens with compassion …

  BISHOP. You mean you refuse to back me?

  GIESE. I’m saying that the changing times challenge us to summon new reserves of patience, so we can negotiate peaceably with …

  BISHOP. You have more tolerance for Lutherans than you have for me.

  GIESE. Let us pray together, for guidance. “Our Father, Who art in Heaven …”

  BISHOP. I bet you’d just love for one of them to do away with me. So you could take my place, and be bishop here yourself.