A More Perfect Heaven

by Dava Sobel

  RHETICUS shakes with chills, moans.

  GIESE. Who is this?

  ANNA. I’ll get some blankets.

  COPERNICUS. And willow bark.

  ANNA. (exiting) I know.

  GIESE. Poor fellow. What’s wrong with him?

  COPERNICUS continues to catch his breath.

  GIESE. Oh, never mind. You can tell me later. But what were you doing there, Nicholas?

  COPERNICUS. (squeezing GIESE’S hand) So good to …

  GIESE. I know. I won’t ask you any more questions now … Goodness, I haven’t been up there since …

  Beat.

  GIESE. Do you still have your … your machine, with all the … ?

  ANNA. (returning with blankets, water) Why didn’t you leave him in the tower?

  COPERNICUS. Too sick.

  COPERNICUS holds up RHETICUS’S head, pours a few drops of medicine into his mouth.

  GIESE. What’s wrong with him?

  COPERNICUS. Ague. Exposure. God only knows where he’s slept in weeks of travel.

  GIESE. Where did he come from?

  ANNA. His clothes are drenched with sweat.

  COPERNICUS. Better get them off.

  ANNA and COPERNICUS undress Rheticus , wrap him in blankets, through the following dialogue.

  RHETICUS shakes with chills, moans, resists them mindlessly.

  ANNA. How will you explain this … ?

  COPERNICUS. I’ll think of something.

  ANNA. You should never have let him in the house.

  GIESE. What’s going on here?

  COPERNICUS. I’ll say I was coming home, from the bishop’s, late at night, when I found him, lying in front of my house.

  ANNA. You can’t say you …

  COPERNICUS. That much is true. He was ill. How could I leave him out there, weak and sick?

  GIESE. You dragged him into the house? And up to the tower? And then back down from the … ?

  COPERNICUS. No, Tiedemann. He walked into the house. And then … We had to … But I did find him lying out there. So I took him in.

  ANNA. A total stranger?

  COPERNICUS. It was the Christian thing to do.

  ANNA shakes her head, continues tending to RHETICUS.

  GIESE. I would have done the same. But he’s much better off here, with you. It was his great good fortune that Providence delivered him to your door, Nicholas.

  COPERNICUS. That’s it! Providence delivered him. So that I could care for him in his hour of need.

  ANNA. But, a Lutheran?

  GIESE. What?

  COPERNICUS. How did I know? He was unconscious.

  GIESE. He’s a Lutheran?

  COPERNICUS. Later he became delirious. It was impossible to make any sense of what he said. We still have no idea who he is. Or where he came from. All his papers had been stolen. By robbers. Highwaymen.

  ANNA. Why are you protecting him?

  COPERNICUS. Anna, please. Make up a bed for him in the pantry. There’s nothing else to be done until his fever comes down.

  ANNA, still disapproving, goes to the pantry as told.

  COPERNICUS slumps, head in hands.

  GIESE goes to him, pats and rubs his shoulders.

  GIESE. All right, my friend. From the beginning now. Who is this prodigy among us?

  COPERNICUS. Of all the times for someone like him to … Someone of his talents … Why now? Agh! If only he’d come to me twenty years ago.

  GIESE. Twenty years ago he was still in swaddling clothes, from the look of him.

  COPERNICUS. It wouldn’t have made a difference then either. My ideas are too disturbing to see the light of day.

  Beat.

  GIESE. He came to you about that?

  COPERNICUS. So he said.

  GIESE. What about it?

  COPERNICUS. Nothing. It doesn’t matter. He didn’t really understand it anyway.

  GIESE. But he traveled here? To find you?

  COPERNICUS. Incredible, isn’t it?

  GIESE. From where?

  COPERNICUS. You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.

  GIESE. What did he say?

  COPERNICUS. Came all this way. With letters from … He had a letter of introduction from Schöner.

  GIESE. Nuremberg Schöner?

  COPERNICUS. And Hartmann, too. And a stack of books he wanted to give me. Ptolemy in the original Greek. Can you imagine? And here. Look at these.

  COPERNICUS gives GIESE the notes.

  GIESE. What’s this?

  COPERNICUS. You and I never saw Mercury at an angle of western elongation like that. Nowhere even close to those values.

  ANNA. (returning) It’s ready.

  All three pick up RHETICUS and carry/drag him toward the pantry.

  FRANZ enters, unnoticed by the others, takes in the scene.

  COPERNICUS and GIESE return.

  COPERNICUS. How long have you been here, lad?

  FRANZ. I … His Reverence sent me, Doctor.

  COPERNICUS. Did you see … ?

  FRANZ. His Reverence wishes Bishop Giese to attend him in his chambers, to witness the signing of the edict.

  COPERNICUS. (to GIESE) He’s gone and done it? Already?

  GIESE takes a last, appreciative look at the observations.

  GIESE. One thing is certain, Nicholas. The Lord surely works in mysterious ways.

  GIESE gives back the notes to

  COPERNICUS, exits with FRANZ.

  ANNA returns.

  COPERNICUS. The bishop’s boy was here.

  ANNA. Again?

  COPERNICUS. Do you think he saw anything?

  ANNA. What did he overhear, Mikoj? Between you and the bishop?

  COPERNICUS. He told you about that?

  ANNA. It’s true, then? (rushing into his arms) Oh, Mikoj!

  COPERNICUS. (embracing her) He was overwrought last night. Sick and fearful. He’ll forget about us.

  ANNA. Bishop Giese said something to me about …

  COPERNICUS. No, no. Hush.

  ANNA. Yes, he did. He asked me where I was going. And did I have family to take me in.

  COPERNICUS. Don’t worry, dearest.

  ANNA. Oh, Mikoj!

  COPERNICUS. I won’t let anything happen to you.

  ANNA. He can’t really make you send me away? Can he?

  COPERNICUS. He’ll have to kill me first.

  They kiss, continue to hold each other.

  ANNA. I won’t go. I won’t leave you, Mikoj.

  COPERNICUS. I won’t let you.

  RHETICUS cries out from the other room.

  COPERNICUS and ANNA turn, start in his direction, but he quiets, so they stay where they are, clinging to each other.

  Blackout.

  SCENE vii. BISHOP’S PARLOR

  PLEA BARGAIN

  The BISHOP sits at the desk where he signs and seals the edict. FRANZ stands behind him, GIESE facing him.

  BISHOP. He just took him in? Without even knowing his identity?

  GIESE. That’s Nicholas for you. If he sees a person is sick, he simply acts.

  BISHOP. But this fellow could be a spy, for all he knows.

  GIESE. No, he’s a mathematician.

  BISHOP. I thought you said no one knew anything about him.

  GIESE. That’s right. No papers. But he had several books. In his travel bag.

  BISHOP. Books in a bag don’t prove a person’s profession.

  GIESE. These were large textbooks, about mathematics. That the robbers did not take.

  BISHOP. No wonder.

  GIESE. I think he came here on purpose, Johann. Expressly to engage Nicholas about his theory. To shake him out of his paralysis.

  BISHOP. So what if he did? What of it?

  GIESE. Think what it would mean, Johann. You know how I’ve always said one day Nicholas will bring glory to Varmia through his mathematical work.

  BISHOP. That is one harebrained idea, that theory of his. I thought he was wise to put it aside.

  GIESE. He
should be encouraged to take it up again.

  BISHOP. He should let it lie. It’s a dangerous notion.

  GIESE. It’s controversial, I grant you, but …

  BISHOP. It may even be heretical.

  GIESE. Oh, no, Johann.

  BISHOP. Then it’s a laughingstock. You should hear what they used to say about him at court. How he mistook the Earth for a side of beef. So he put it on a spit, and tried to roast it in the Sun’s fire.

  GIESE. His ideas are beyond the comprehension of ordinary minds like yours and mine.

  BISHOP. Even mathematicians have common sense, Tiedemann. Now, then. Stop changing the subject. And add your name to this document. Will you do that? Will you stand with me to protect Varmia? And Kulm. And the rest of our province, and Poland, and the world, from a clear and present danger?!

  GIESE. I cannot condone the punishment of innocent people.

  Beat.

  BISHOP. I have already written my recommendation to the provost of the chapter, requesting that you be relieved of your canonry. I have it right here, just waiting for my signature and seal. You sign the edict, Tiedemann, and I’ll tear up the letter.

  GIESE. I must be getting back to Kulm now.

  BISHOP. Sign, damn it!

  GIESE. I have preparations to make, to receive my guests. I’ve invited Nicholas to bring his unfortunate visitor to Kulm, as soon as the youth is well enough to travel.

  BISHOP. The sooner he leaves here, the better.

  GIESE. And the nurse, to look after him until he’s completely …

  BISHOP. Good riddance.

  GIESE. And Nicholas, of course.

  BISHOP. Nicholas isn’t going anywhere.

  GIESE. He will leap at the chance to engage another mathematician in learned discourse.

  BISHOP. You can have the stranger. But I won’t let you take Nicholas that far away.

  GIESE. How I shall enjoy hearing them discuss the wanderings of the planets through the visible heavens, while I tend to the invisible one.

  BISHOP. I need him here with me. He belongs to me.

  Blackout.

  SCENE viii. COPERNICUS’S HOUSE

  ASTROLOGY

  COPERNICUS and ANNA huddle together in an embrace, as before; they jump when …

  RHETICUS staggers in, wrapped in a blanket.

  ANNA. Good God!

  RHETICUS. What happened? Why didn’t you tell me?

  COPERNICUS. What … ?

  RHETICUS. It’s dark now. Can’t you see? It’s dark!

  RHETICUS stumbles, starts to fall.

  ANNA and COPERNICUS catch him, sit him down.

  COPERNICUS. Bring him some of that broth.

  ANNA exits.

  RHETICUS. You promised you’d tell me when it got dark.

  COPERNICUS. You’re ill. Do you remember? You’re not going anywhere to night.

  RHETICUS. Where are my clothes?

  COPERNICUS. (taking off his cassock, putting it around RHETICUS) You’re still weak. You need to …

  RHETICUS. I can’t stay here.

  RHETICUS tries to stand up, falls back into the chair.

  COPERNICUS. In another day or two, you’ll be stronger. Then you can do as you please. But for now you’re in my care.

  RHETICUS. This is your house. We were in this room.

  ANNA enters, with a cup.

  COPERNICUS. Here, drink this.

  RHETICUS. But this isn’t where we … We went somewhere else to …

  COPERNICUS. Go on, drink it. It’s good for you.

  ANNA goes to the room where RHETICUS was resting.

  RHETICUS. You put me in that … machine.

  COPERNICUS. Drink this, now. It’s full of medicine.

  RHETICUS. (taking the cup, then dropping it) Oh, no !

  COPERNICUS. It’s all right. There’s more where that came from.

  ANNA. (returning, with RHETICUS’S clothing) His clothes are still wet.

  COPERNICUS. Please brew some more broth for him.

  ANNA. (exiting) I’ll hang these by the kitchen fire.

  RHETICUS. Now I remember. Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no.

  COPERNICUS. You must have been dreaming.

  RHETICUS. I thought you would save me.

  COPERNICUS. Sometimes fever causes very vivid, frightening dreams.

  RHETICUS. You! I thought you could help me.

  COPERNICUS. I’ve done everything I know how to …

  RHETICUS. What will I do now?

  COPERNICUS. You’ll be fine.

  RHETICUS. What will become of me?

  COPERNICUS. Good as new, you’ll see.

  RHETICUS. I came here in good faith …

  COPERNICUS. Yes, yes. I know.

  RHETICUS. And what do I find? A lunatic! A deluded old … a … a recluse! Obsessed with an insane idea.

  COPERNICUS. Get hold of yourself, now.

  RHETICUS. (jumping up, stronger now) Where are my clothes? Where’s my satchel?

  COPERNICUS. You don’t need any of that now.

  RHETICUS. My horoscopes are in there.

  COPERNICUS. I don’t have to see your horoscope. I know how to treat your symptoms without that.

  RHETICUS. You don’t understand. Where is that satchel?

  COPERNICUS. Calm yourself.

  ANNA. (returning with another cup) You must have left his things up in the tower.

  COPERNICUS. They can wait there for now. Here.

  RHETICUS resists, but then weakens again, drinks the broth.

  ANNA. I think we all need something to eat.

  ANNA exits.

  RHETICUS. I know it by heart. I can recite the whole thing without looking at it.

  COPERNICUS. What can you recite?

  RHETICUS. Every house, every aspect, every conjunction and opposition. Every indicator of doom.

  COPERNICUS. Don’t tell me you believe in that?

  RHETICUS. It’s not as though I have a choice.

  COPERNICUS. You should know better.

  RHETICUS. If only I could forget what I know.

  COPERNICUS. (a little sarcastic) Change it, then. If you don’t like what your horoscope portends, you can simply reconfigure it. Isn’t that right? Reapportion the houses, or adjust the presumed time of birth, and … make it say something else. Something better. Whatever you like.

  RHETICUS. (dead serious) I’ve tried that. Tried all those things. It always comes out the same.

  COPERNICUS. I’m sorry, Professor. I can’t help you with your horoscope.

  RHETICUS. And you call yourself a mathematician?

  COPERNICUS. What do you take me for? A fortune-teller?

  RHETICUS. The fates of empires depend on the positions of the planets.

  COPERNICUS. No, Professor. The fates of empires depend on the positions of armies on battlefields. Not the planets in the heavens. The sky does not enter into human affairs.

  RHETICUS. You don’t understand.

  COPERNICUS. A man’s fate is in God’s hands.

  RHETICUS. Tell that to your pope! Don’t you know he brought his favorite astrologer to Rome?!

  COPERNICUS. Doesn’t your Luther denounce the whole practice?

  RHETICUS. I told you, he knows nothing about mathematics.

  COPERNICUS. Is that all you came here for? Some new trick for casting your horoscope?

  RHETICUS. Not just mine! Yours. Schöner’s. Everybody’s! Wars. Floods. Plagues. All the global predictions for the coming year. For years to come! That’s what I saw as the fruit of your labors. The long march of history. The rise of Luther. The fall of Islam. The Second Coming of Our Lord Jesus Christ!

  COPERNICUS. I give you the true order of the planets. The workings of the whole heavenly machinery, with every one of its former kinks hammered out. But all of that is useless to you, unless it provides excuses for every petty human failing.

  RHETICUS. You think you can just twirl the Earth through the heavens like some … like a … like … Oh, my God. Wait a minute. If the Earth
moved … then … If the Earth moved through the heavens …

  COPERNICUS. It does move.

  RHETICUS. If the Earth moved among the planets, then it would approach them and recede from them, and maybe even … It would! Yes! If that happened, it would magnify the effect of every planetary influence.

  COPERNICUS. No.

  RHETICUS. That would have to happen, as a natural consequence. An enhancement of the influence that each planet exerted on the individual …

  COPERNICUS. The one thing has nothing to do with the other.

  RHETICUS. How can you be sure? Have you checked for those effects?

  COPERNICUS. No.

  RHETICUS. Not even in your own chart? That would be so easy to do. To compare, say, Mars at opposition with Mars at solar conjunction, and then to …

  COPERNICUS. No!

  RHETICUS. This is better than I’d hoped. Better than I ever dreamed! Think what it means! This truly could dispel the whole fog of absurdity that hangs over your theory.

  COPERNICUS. If you want to know the future, you should go slaughter a goat and examine its entrails. And leave the planets out of your predictions.

  RHETICUS. I think there’s really something to it. Let’s say, just for the moment, just for argument’s sake, that the Earth … turns. How fast would it … ? It has to spin around very fast, right? For the turning to cause day and night?

  COPERNICUS. It is rapid, yes.

  RHETICUS. How rapid?

  COPERNICUS. You do the math.

  RHETICUS. All right. The circumference of the Earth is … What? Twenty thousand miles?

  COPERNICUS. Twenty-four.

  RHETICUS. Twenty-four thousand, right. And it has to make a full rotation every … twenty-four hours.

  COPERNICUS. Not a very difficult calculation, is it?

  RHETICUS. God in Heaven! A thousand miles an hour?

  COPERNICUS. That’s what it must be.

  RHETICUS. But that can’t be. We would feel that.

  COPERNICUS. No. We don’t feel it.

  RHETICUS. We don’t feel it because we don’t really turn.

  COPERNICUS. We don’t feel it because we move along with it. Like riding a horse.

  RHETICUS. When I ride a horse, I feel it.

  COPERNICUS. On a ship, then. Sailing on a calm sea. You move along in the direction of the wind, but you don’t have any sense that you’re moving.

  RHETICUS. Yes, I do. I see the shore receding. I feel the breeze in my face.

  COPERNICUS. Go inside the cabin, then.

  RHETICUS. (crestfallen again) It won’t work. It’s too … It’s … If the Earth turned as fast as you claim, there would be a gale, like the wind from God, howling and blowing against us all the time.