tip of the island, for the town of Elsinore where I had been born, in a region of forests and farms. Elsinore lay but thirty miles north of Copenhagen, which is a city of sophistication and culture, but Elsinore seemed to inhabit some remote century, existing always in a time of primitive ignorance. It was the king’s favorite place in Denmark.
“My lord,” I said. “My book only observes that what we can see is to be more trusted than what we are told without evidence.”
“That is a dangerous statement. And heretical in some eyes. I know that you write merely of the natural philosophies, but men will read it more broadly, as a political commentary. The Devil is the prince of lies, Soren. We must put our faith in our kings and our church, for we know truth lies therein.”
“Truth lies all around us! The Wise Men followed the stars to find the Redeemer, my lord. I also follow the stars, for careful and accurate observation of the universe will lead us to prosperity and happiness. I am an astronomer because by looking at Heaven I see the Earth.”
“Brahe used to say that. I remember. You ought not quote him on my father’s ship. This book of yours may be read by men such as Gustavus, who will see it as a call for dissention and change. You might accidentally spur my father’s enemies into action against him. Surely that is not what you intend?”
“My lord, it is in the nature of nature to change.”
“It is in the nature of nature to remain as God hath made it.”
“Even the heavens change, my lord.”
Christian waved a hand as if to sweep away all we had said.
“This conversation likes me not, Soren. Come, let us speak of other things.”
“As you wish.”
“If you intend to publish your volume in Denmark, you must dedicate it to my father, using your most flattering tongue, and you must be certain to inform all readers that you write only of art and philosophy.”
“Aye, my lord.”
“But I do not wish to speak of it. This book upsets me, Soren. I may agree with you that an understanding of the great machine that is the Earth can be a good thing, but I do not like your disrespect for the whole of history on which your new science is to be built.”
“I bear no such disrespect to history.”
“Nonsense. You are like a man so in love that he sees his betrothed as the pinnacle of femininity and his own mother as an ill-bred hag. The days to come will not be perfection, nor are the days past so awful as you paint them. But let us speak on another topic.”
“As it suits you.”
His words were more like those of a closed-minded privy counselor than the young scholar I myself had tutored. I was happy to leave off the topic, but the prince had more to say.
“There are men who have my father’s ear who would take your book as a placement of academia above the nobility. It could be said that you set Tycho Brahe above the king in importance.”
I could not with any honesty discuss with Christian the relative importance of his father and Tycho Brahe. Did the Danes think Christian son of Rorik a great man? Then they knew nothing of greatness. History forgets the man who squeezes taxes from peasants, but history remembers the man who increases the knowledge of all mankind. Brahe had turned his back on such pettiness as Danish politics, and instead he measured the extent of Heaven. He opened the eyes and imaginations of a generation of astronomers—scores of us who followed our master’s lead and placed the power of facts above the power of the sword. The discoveries of science endure as guarantees that civilization will go on. No king can make such a claim about his reign.
“I do not mention Tycho.”
“Nay, but he is there on every page, edging you onward and drawing the argument into this rosy dawn you imagine. But Brahe is no hero to pattern yourself after.” Christian shook his head. “Come, come. I wish no more to discuss it, Soren. Prithee do stop hectoring me about it.”
“I am sorry, my lord. I meant no offense.”
“Let us talk of other subjects.”
“With happiness.”
“Excellent.”
There was a heavy silence between us, a wall that descended into our conversation more often as Christian grew older and spent time away from Denmark. I wondered what sort of nonsense he learned at Wittenberg,