Where Tigers Are at Home (28 page)

Then the Prince, who was very much interested in the sciences, brought the discussion around to astronomy & questioned Kircher so passionately about the conflicting theories that were current at the time that they were soon at it hammer and tongs. Seeing that the Princess was enjoying these difficult subjects less, I decided to make conversation with her. Since I knew, from what she had told me before, that she liked music, I talked about the musicians who were all the rage in Rome, in particular Girolamo Frescobaldi, whom my master and I regularly went to hear in the Lateran church. She had a high opinion of all of them, she said, but she preferred the more spiritual compositions of Monteverdi, William Byrd & above all of Gesualdo, whose name she spoke in a murmur & with a quick glance at her husband. I nodded, to indicate that I had understood her allusion & fully approved of & shared her tastes. She seemed delighted by this accord &, with shining eyes & flushed cheeks, she drank in every word I said, so much so that I had to rub my back against the chair to make the prickles of my hair shirt work more effectively & call my flesh to order. I decided it was time to return to subjects more appropriate to my calling.

“How do you imagine God?” I asked her without further ado.

She gave me an affectionate smile, obviously unsurprised by the point-blank nature of my question, as if she clearly understood its motivation. “I cannot imagine Him,” she replied almost immediately, “that is to say I cannot visualize Him as similar to men or to anything human. I believe there is a God because I cannot think that I or all the things around me are the product of chance or of some creature. Also, since the direction
of my affairs is not a result of my own wisdom & since success rarely comes by the means I have chosen, Divine Providence must be involved in the matter …”

I was very pleased with this reply & admired her for not saying, as most women did, that she imagined God as a venerable old man.

“And since it has so happened that I am talking to you about myself in a way I have never before talked to anyone, I can admit that, were it not for the sacred bonds tying me to my husband, I would joyfully place my life under the yoke of Jesus Christ. Not in a convent, where the cross is too easy a burden, but in a hospital that accepts patients with all kinds of ailments, wherever they come from and whatever their religion, to serve them all without distinction &, following the example of the only husband worthy of the name, to take their infirmities upon myself. I know that my eyes are able to bear the most horrible sights, my ears the oaths and cries of the sick & my sense of smell the stench of all the infections of the human body. I would take Jesus from bed to bed to these wretched people, I would encourage them, not by empty words but by the example of my own patience & charity, & I would do so much that God would have mercy on them …”

The tears were welling up in the Princess’s eyes at the evocation of her secret desire. Of perfect beauty, she seemed great & noble, free and majestic in her bearing, honest in her demeanor, with the soft, pliant voice of a saint. This young woman was admirable in every respect & her husband the most abominable—

“Extraordinary!” the Prince suddenly exclaimed, turning to me. “Caspar, I envy you: your master the most considerable is of scholars! We together realize soon great things …”

I blushed at this, as if I had been caught in the act & the Prince had been able to read my thoughts.

“You exaggerate,” said Kircher, “knowledge alone is magnificent & that alone deserves your compliments. But you must excuse me, my lady, for having monopolized your husband for so long; I seem to have forgotten that our conversation was hardly of a nature to enthrall you.”

“Do not worry, Father. We conversed on religious matters with Father Schott & it is I who have forgotten my duty as hostess. I have to admit that I didn’t hear a single word of your discussion & I am sorry about that, even though I doubtless would not have understood much of it.”

Kircher politely assured her she was mistaken in that & then, as if on a sudden inspiration, offered to divert us: “As we have finished this excellent dinner, it seems a suitable moment to follow it with an amusing experiment. What do you think, are we lighter before or after we’ve eaten?”

“Good, good, good,” said the Prince, rubbing his hands in satisfaction. “I take up challenge! We must have method, always method, as say Monsieur Descartes. After meal I feel me more light, although I swallow at least four pound of food. This idea clear & distinct in my
intellectus
, therefore true: inside force of body transform chicken, fish and other nourishments in heat; heat produce intimate vapor, & vapor lightness … We eat too much we fly away, no?” he added with a laugh.

The Prince immediately rang & ordered the scales to be brought from the pantry. A few minutes later several servants appeared, struggling under the weight of the instrument.

“How much do you normally weigh?” Kircher asked.

“A hundred and twenty-two pounds,” the Prince replied, “I not change weight since former youth.”

“Good. Then if you have eaten four pounds of food, you ought to weigh a hundred and twenty-six pounds now.”

“We soon see,” said the Prince, climbing onto the pan.

Kircher moved the weights until the scales were in balance & read off the result: “A hundred & twenty-seven pounds, three marks & two ounces! You ate a little more than you estimated this evening.”

“Unheard of!” the Prince exclaimed, highly amused.

AFTER HAVING CHECKED
the accuracy of the weights, he wanted all of us to try. Kircher climbed onto the pan; it turned out that he had eaten seven pounds of food, which he explained away by claiming that he must have underestimated his weight because he hadn’t weighed himself since leaving Rome. I was not surprised to find that I had only put on one pound, hardly having given a thought to the food during the meal. As for the Princess, she refused to submit to a trial that would have offended the natural coquetry of her sex, but she was readily pardoned her refusal. She retired soon afterward & I followed suit when the Prince intimated that he would like to discuss certain delicate matters with my master.

Once in my room, I examined my soul & realized how much the Princess was bewitching me. Her virtue & her purity seemed exemplary & I felt great satisfaction in being able to recreate her face in my thoughts. I said lengthy prayers and read the
Exercises
until late into the night. Obeying Saint Ignatius, who says that it is a sin to take less than the adequate amount of sleep, I took off my hair shirt, which was very uncomfortable, & fell asleep.

When I woke next morning I saw that
lintea pollueram
¹
& the thought of having yielded to the devil during the night, even though I had no memory of it, filled me with horror. I put my
hair shirt back on & began the day by examining my conscience thoroughly.

That day & the following days up to Christmas I hardly saw Kircher & the Prince at all. They shut themselves away in the library, where they were engaged in mysterious activities; several times workmen came from outside to work with them, which made me suspect some new machine was being invented. Left to my own devices, I had the pleasure of keeping company with the lady who occupied my thoughts; we discussed all kinds of topics, read the new books that had been sent to her or made music. And the Princess seemed to enjoy these innocent pastimes so much that I felt no guilt at all in doing this to lighten her spirits. Every day she became a little more determined to carry out her decision to take the veil with the Sisters of Mercy as soon as Providence gave her the opportunity & I encouraged her in this resolution with all my heart.

The meals did not last as long as on the day of our arrival, the Prince & Kircher ate quickly—when they deigned to leave the library—to return as soon as possible to whatever they were doing. But while the Prince appeared merry as a lark, Kircher seemed to me to be nervous & preoccupied. On the evening of December 23 he came to see me in my room, a little after ten in the evening. His expression was even more serious that usual.

“The die is cast, Caspar, & I fear for the consequences of my actions. The Archenemy can take so many different forms. Accustomed though I am to sniffing out his ruses, I’m not sure I’ll succeed this time. But enough of this faintheartedness! The Prince has invited several people to supper tomorrow night, after midnight mass, which the priest from Bagheria will come to celebrate in the chapel here. You know the Prince’s devious mind & I must repeat the advice to be prudent I gave you when we arrived. Be careful not to pass judgment on the things
you will see, nor to offend anyone with overhasty reactions & remember, whatever happens, I take your sins upon myself. It is for the good of the Church that I am doing this, if I am mistaken I alone will take the punishment.”

Alarmed by this, I swore to my master that he could trust me & that I would rather die than disobey his orders.

“You’re a good fellow,” Kircher said, ruffling my hair, “& a better man than I am. But prepare yourself for the worst, my child, & do not forget: it is the salvation of the Church that is at stake.”

Then he knelt down & we prayed for two hours without stopping.

The morning of December 24 was so gray and cold that the fires were lit throughout the house. The kitchen staff had set to work, the servants were going backward & forward between the house & the park gate, from which they returned loaded with provisions, the whole building seemed to vibrate with the bustling preparations for the festival. Kircher was chatting with the Prince in the library; as for me, I was meditating on the Nativity, preparing myself as best I could to celebrate the arrival of Our Lord.

I was at peace with myself when my master came to fetch me in the middle of the afternoon.

The guests started to arrive, some had already gathered in small groups in the various drawing rooms. The great hall had been opened up & I could not but be astounded by it: imagine a vast rotunda with a cupola covered in hundreds of mirrors attached side by side to make a concave surface. Five large crystal chandeliers covered in candles hung down from it. The walls were composed of genuine & perfect imitation marble with niches containing polychrome busts of the most famous philosophers of Antiquity. And the Prince had had no qualms
about placing busts of himself & his wife in a slightly more richly decorated recess above the entrance, together with a motto: “
Reflected in the remarkable magnificence of these mirrors, contemplate, O mortals, the image of human frailty
.” I also saw a number of coats of arms painted in fresco with various devices of the type Kircher had deciphered when we first arrived. The floor, inlaid with mahogany & rosewood, shone splendidly. All this, however was not quite in the best of taste: there was a little too much ostentation & not enough genuine beauty; but the mirrors, multiplying colors, lights and movements ad infinitum, created a truly magical atmosphere. A small orchestra, with the musicians dressed as characters from a Roman tragedy, was playing quietly.

When the Prince saw us, he bustled over &, requesting silence, introduced Kircher to the assembled company; this was a new Archimedes, the glory of the age, & he was honored by his presence & his friendship. There was some discreet applause then the conversations resumed, even livelier than before. We sat down on one of the benches in the hall & the Prince told us about those he had invited for that evening.

There was Sieur La Mothe Le Vayer, known for his dialogues in the style of Latin & Greek authors; Count Manuel Cuendias de Teruel y de Casa-Pavòn; Denys Sanguin de Saint-Pavin, whose reputation for debauchery went ahead of him; Jean-Jacques Bouchard, a notorious libertine; a few poets & scholars & a swarm of ladies & petty marquis whose titles would have choked even the most robust master of ceremonies. All were intimate enough acquaintances of the Prince to be spared the usual humiliating tricks.

When the night was well advanced, the Prince, without a word, finger on his lips, shepherded us all into the hall of mirrors & suddenly had all the candles snuffed & the doors closed.
Hardly had we been plunged into total darkness than the Virgin Mary appeared to us, life-sized & radiant with light, as if she were floating on one of the walls. We could clearly see the blue of her shawl & the rosy hue of her face—she seemed alive! Murmurs of amazement could be heard all around me. The Princess, startled, had taken my arm & was gripping it very tightly. I was already wagering that my master was not without involvement in this miracle, when his voice was heard, greatly amplified by some device or other & echoing all around the cupola.

“Do not fear, all you who can hear me, there is nothing in this apparition that cannot be explained by the simple laws of nature. Our host, the Prince, has seen fit to prepare us all for the celebration of the Nativity, let us give him our thanks.”

Immediately another image appeared showing Mary & Joseph on the road to Galilee. After the nativity, then the adoration of the Magi, we were given a summary of the life of Jesus. The music accompanying it suddenly took on such poignant tones at the image of Our Lord dying on the cross, that it brought tears to my eyes, as it did to those of most of the company. After the Ascension, we were plunged into darkness again. The musicians broke into a terrifying piece, rising in a crescendo, & at its peak, at the very moment when the brass & the drums were threatening to bring the house down around our ears, the Devil appeared, surrounded by moving flames, horned, grimacing, horrible to look at!

“The Archenemy!” Kircher bellowed, his stentorian voice drowning out the cries of fright from the audience, “The Tempter! The fallen Angel! The foul Fiend! Repent, all ye sinners, to escape his clutches & the torments his army of demons is preparing for you in hell! Here come Beydelus, Anamelech, Furfur & Eurynome! Baalberith, the head of the archives of evil! Abaddon, the exterminating angel! Tobhema,
Satan’s cook! Philotanus, whose very name fills us with disgust! And then Lilith, Negal & Valafar! Moloch, Murmur, Scox, Empousa & Focalor! Sidragasum, who incites shameless women to dance! Belial, O lewd seducer, Zapam, Xezbeth, Nysrak & Haborym! Get thee away from here, Asmodeus! And thou, Xaphan, return to thy cauldrons! Shades & Striges, fairies, furoles & undines get ye out of our sight!”