Why, sir, you have a son! This is a great surprise to me. I put aside this letter briefly, having some pressing matters to attend to-my wife is ill again-and in the meantime from Wittenberg one Johannes Fabricius has written to me regarding certain solar phenomena, and recommending himself to me through my friendship for you, his father! I confess I am amazed, and not a little disturbed, for I have always spoken in my letters to you as to a younger man, and indeed, I wonder if I have not now and then fallen into the tone of a master addressing a pupil! You must forgive me. We should sometime have met. I think I am short of sight not only in the physical sense. Always I am being met with these shocks, when the thing before my nose turns out suddenly to be other than I believed it to be. Just so it was with the orbit of Mars. I shall write again and recount in brief the history of my struggle with that planet, it may amuse you.
Vale Johannes Kepler
Wenzel House Prague November 1607
Hans Geo. Herwart von Hohenburg: at München
Entshuldigen Sie, my dear good sir, for my long delay in plying to your latest, most welcome letter. Matters at court devour my time amp; energies, as always. His Majesty becomes daily more capricious. At times he will forget my name, and look at me with that frown, which all who know him know so well, as if he does not recognise me at all; then suddenly will come an urgent summons, and I must scamper up to the palace with my star charts amp; astrological tables. For he puts much innocent faith in this starry scrying, which, as you know well, I consider a dingy business. He demands written reports upon various matters, such as for instance the nativity of the Emperor Augustus and of Mohammed, and the fate which is to be expected for the Turkish Empire, and, of course, that which so exercises everyone at court these days, the Hungarian question: his brother Matthias grows ever more brazen in his pursuit of power. Also there is the tiresome matter of the so-called Fiery Trigon and the shifting of the Great Conjunction of Jupiter amp; Saturn, which is supposed to have marked the birth of Christ, and of Charlemagne, and, now that another 800 years have passed, everyone asks what great event impends. I ventured that this great event had already occurred, in the coming of Kepler to Prague: but I do not think His Majesty appreciated the witticism.
In this atmosphere, the New Star of three years past caused a mighty commotion, which still persists. There is talk, as you would expect, of universal conflagration and the Judgment Day. The least that will be settled for, it seems, is the coming of a great new king: nova Stella, novus rex (this last a view which no doubt Matthias encourages!). Of course, I must produce much wordage on this matter also. It is a painful amp; annoying work. The mind accustomed to mathematical demonstrations, on contemplating the faultiness of the foundations of astrology, resists for a long, long time, like a stubborn beast of burden, until, compelled by blows amp; invective, it puts its foot into the puddle.
My position is delicate. Rudolph is fast in the hands of wizards amp; all manner of mountebank. I consider astrology a political more than a prophetical tool, and that one should take care, not only that it be banished from the senate, but from the heads of those who would advise the Emperor in his best interests. Yet what am I to do, if he insists? He is virtually a hermit now in the palace, and spends his days alone among his toys and his pretty monsters, hiding from the humankind which he fears and distrusts, unwilling to make the simplest of decisions. In the mornings, while the groom puts his Spanish amp; Italian steeds through their paces in the courtyard, he sits gloomily watching from the window of his chamber, like an impotent infidel ogling the harem, and then speaks of this as his exercise! Yet, despite all, he is I confess far from ineffective. He seems to operate by a certain Archimedian motion, which is so gentle it barely strikes the eye, but which in the course of time produces movement in the entire mass. The court functions somehow. Perhaps it is just the nervous energy, common to all organisms, which keeps things going, as a chicken will continue to caper after its head has been cut off. (This is treasonous talk.)
My salary, need I say, is badly in arrears. I estimate that I am owed by now some 2,000 florins. I have scant hope of ever seeing the debt paid. The royal coffers are almost exhausted by the Emperor's mania for collecting, as well as by the war with the Turks and his efforts to protect his territories against his turbulent relatives. It pains me to be dependent upon the revenues from my wife's modest fortune. My hungry stomach looks up like a little dog to the master who once fed it. Yet, as ever, I am not despondent, but put my trust in God amp; my science. The weather here is atrocious.
Your servant, sir, Joh: Kepler
Aedes Cramerianis
Prague
April 1608
Dr Michael Mästlin: at Tübingen
Greetings. That swine Tengnagel. I can hardly hold this pen, I am so angry. You will not credit the depths of that man's perfidy. Of course, he is no worse than the rest of the accursed Tychonic gang-only louder. A braying ass the fellow is, vain, pompous amp; irredeemably stupid. I will kill him, God forgive me. The only bright spot in all the horrid darkness of this business is that he still has not been paid, nor is he ever likely to be, the 20,000 florins (or 30 pieces of silver!) for which he sold Tycho Brahe's priceless instruments to the Emperor while the Dane was not yet cold in his grave. (He receives 1,000 florins annually as interest on the debt. This is twice the amount of my salary as Imperial Mathematician.) I confess that, when Tycho died, I quickly took advantage of the lack of circumspection on the part of the heirs, by taking his observations under my care, or, you may say (and certainly they do), purloining them. Who will blame me? The instruments, once the wonder of the world, are scattered across half of Europe, rusted and falling to pieces. The Emperor has forgotten them, and Tengnagel is content with his annual 5 per cent. Should I have let the same fate befall the mass of wonderfully precise amp; invaluable observations which Tycho devoted his lifetime to gathering?
The cause of this quarrel lies in the suspicious nature amp; bad manners of the Brahe family, but, on the other hand, also in my own passionate amp; mocking character. It must be admitted, that Tengnagel all along has had good reason for suspecting me: I was in possession of the observations, and I did refuse to hand them over to the heirs. But there is no reason for him to hound me as he does. You know that he became a Catholic, in order that the Emperor might grant him a position at court? This shows the man's character for what it is. (His lady Elizabeth goads him on-but no, I shall not speak of her.) Now he is Appellate Counsellor, and hence is able to impose his condirions on me with imperial force. He forbade me to print anything based upon his father-in-law's observations before I had completed the Rudolphine Tables; then he offered me freedom to print, provided I put his name with my own on the title pages of my works, so that he might have half the honours with none of the labour. I agreed, if he would grant me one quarter of that 1,000 florins he has from the Emperor. This was a shrewd move on my part, for Tengnagel, of course, true to his nature, considered the sum of 250 per annum too high a price to pay for immortal fame. Next, he got it into his thick head that he would himself take on the mighty task of completing the Tables. You will laugh with me, magister, for of course this is a nonsense, since the Junker has neither the ability for the task, nor the tenacity of purpose it will require. I have noticed it before, that there are many who believe they could do as well as I, nay, better, had they the time amp; the interest to attend the trifling problems of astronomy. I smile to hear them blowing off, all piss amp; wind. Let them try!