The Sleepwalkers (73 page)

For,
within
a
few
weeks,
the
disciple
had
indeed
grown
into
a
prophet;
the
most
moving
passages
in
the
narratio
prima
which
crop
up
unexpectedly
in
the
scientific
text,
sound
like
sermons
to
an
as
yet
non-existent
congregation:

"Thus
the
astronomy
of
my
Teacher
may
rightly
be
called
eternal
as
the
observations
of
past
ages
testify
and
the
observations
of
posterity
will
doubtless
confirm...
⁴⁷
A
boundless
Kingdom
in
astronomy
has
God
granted
to
my
learned
Teacher.
May
he
rule,
guard
and
increase
it,
to
the
restoration
of
astronomic
truth.
Amen."
⁴⁸

Rheticus
had
arrived
in
Frauenburg
in
the
summer
of
1539;
by
the
end
of
September
the
narratio
prima
was
completed
and
dispatched;
a
few
months
later
it
appeared
in
print.
Rarely
have
ten
weeks
been
better
spent.
In
that
span
of
time
he
had
worked
through
the
bulky
manuscript
of
the
Revolutions
bristling
with
astronomical
tables,
rows
of
figures,
involved
diagrams,
and
a
host
of
computing
errors.
He
had
distilled
its
essence,
put
it
into
writing,
and
in
the
evenings,
supported
by
Giese,
had
carried
on
the
interminable
negotiations
with
the
obstinate
old
man
who
always
thought
of
new
evasions.
The
combined
effect
of
strain
and
frustration
seems
to
have
been
too
much
even
for
the
irascible
young
prophet,
for
it
is
reported
that
at
a
certain
point
–
while
he
was
struggling
with
the
particularly
intricate
theory
of
the
orbit
of
Mars
–
his
mind
became
temporarily
unhinged.
Two
generations
later,
when
the
events
at
Loebau
Castle
were
already
becoming
a
kind
of
Homeric
saga
among
scholars,
Johannes
Kepler
wrote
in
the
Dedication
of
his
New
Astronomy
to
the
Emperor
Rudolph:

"Concerning
Georg
Joachim
Rheticus,
the
well-famed
disciple
of
Copernicus
in
our
forefathers'
days
...
the
following
story
is
told:
when
on
one
occasion
he
became
perplexed
and
got
stuck
in
the
theory
of
Mars
and
could
no
longer
see
his
way
out,
he
appealed
as
a
last
resort
to
his
guardian
angel
as
an
Oracle.
The
ungracious
spirit
thereupon
seized
Rheticus
by
the
hair
and
alternately
banged
his
head
against
the
ceiling,
then
let
his
body
down
and
crashed
it
against
the
floor;
to
which
treatment
he
added
the
following
oracular
pronouncement:
'These
are
the
motions
of
Mars.'
Rumour
has
an
evil
tongue
...
yet
one
can
very
well
believe
that
Rheticus,
his
mind
deranged
by
deadlocked
speculation,
rose
in
a
rage
and
himself
crashed
his
head
against
the
wall."
⁴⁹

The
episode
must
have
been
well
known
in
Kepler's
and
Galileo's
day,
as
the
following
passage
in
one
of
Kepler's
letters
to
a
colleague
further
shows:
⁵⁰

"You
tease
me
with
the
example
of
Rheticus.
I
laugh
with
you.
I
have
seen
how
miserably
the
Moon
has
tortured
you
and
sometimes
me
too,
I
remember.
If
now
things
are
going
badly
with
my
Mars,
it
would
be
fitting
for
you,
who
suffered
similar
vexations,
to
show
pity
for
me."

Rheticus
himself
described
in
the
narratio
prima
his
mental
torment
–
the
torment
of
a
scientist
at
the
junction
of
the
Middle
Ages
and
the
Renaissance,
who
intuitively
feels
that
there
must
be
a
beautiful
and
luminous
solution
to
the
cosmic
mystery,
yet
cannot
escape
the
nightmare
of
the
whirling
epicycles:

"The
astronomer
who
studies
the
motion
of
the
stars
is
surely
like
a
blind
man
who,
with
only
a
staff
[mathematics]
to
guide
him,
must
make
a
great,
endless,
hazardous
journey
that
winds
through
innumerable
desolate
places.
What
will
be
the
result?
Proceeding
anxiously
for
a
while
and
groping
his
way
with
his
staff,
he
will
at
some
time,
leaning
upon
it,
cry
out
in
despair
to
Heaven,
Earth
and
all
the
Gods
to
aid
him
in
his
misery."
⁵¹

As
an
annex
to
the
narratio
,
Rheticus
wrote,
according
to
a
usage
of
the
time,
a
eulogy
on
the
country
and
people
who
had
received
him
so
hospitably:
Encomium
Borussiae
.
"In
Praise
of
Prussia"
is
a
gushing
effusion
in
the
worst
purple
style
of
the
humanists,
teeming
with
Greek
gods
and
far-fetched
allegories.
It
starts
with
a
flourish: