Cant

But pray, Eminences -- what if it is true? Oh, it cannot be? And you will not deign to look, stoop to peer through my spyglass at the heavens? For it cannot be so? I am to be condemned, then, if I do not recant? Very well then. I recant. The moon is perfect, a perfect orb, embedded in a crystalline sphere, one of seven concentics, centered upon the Footstool of God's Creation, this Earth. Let it not be said that I was heretical, nor willful, nor that I consorted with deceivers. Rather, I was enthralled to melancholia, and my frail mind was captive to its dark deceptions.

The clarity of your faith has lightened my way, though, for which I give you eternal thanks. The Ages will sing praises to your names, merciful agents of the Lord and His works that you are -- while my name shall be utterly forgotten, returned to ignominious dust. The bright and morning star does not run through phases. My eyes deluded me, tears of grief no doubt clouding my vision. As with those phantoms I thought I saw encircling the wandering star Saturn -- perhaps it was a deceiving spirit, sent by Satan to blaspheme the Almighty and His perfect works? Yes, that must be it.

Please instruct me, good Doctors of the Law -- as wise as the Pharisees whom our Saviour so respected -- in a matter of doctrine that my humble intellect has been been unable to apprehend. Creation is, as every child knows, Fallen -- the work of Satan upon the frail flesh of Man. For it pleased the Lord to make us frail, that we might someday receive the blessing of His forgiveness, blessed be His name. And from this Fall might we derive the cause of every foul and imperfect thing that plagues the world as it now stands, awaiting its judgment of fire. Given this, then -- that the Capstone and Center of God's Universe has been cursed -- how is it that the moon escaped? -- and Venus? How, in such a perverted Cosmos, could the planets too not have suffered? So that Saturn might not have gained its own moons, as Satan seduced his followers? He swept a third of the stars from the heavens. Could not some of them linger to survey great Saturn?

No, of course, you are correct. Such speculations are for greater minds than mine, and in any case the question is settled, in ancient times by noble pagans blessed somehow with wisdom greater than any that we might have. Only a fool would imagine that the Bible encourages to test all things. I am sure you recall in the Book of Second Job that we are told to believe in fables and myths, no doubt because they led to a sounder method of observation than any we might discover.

So that's it then. I apologize. No harm done. My spyglass is good for military purposes, and I'll be sure never to point it above the horizon again. And I'll try to get help about this melancholia. Maybe seek out a leecher. A barber to open a vein. Perhaps I'll beat myself with a flagellum as I crawl from cathedral to cathedral, an act of penance for my folly and pride and emotion and poor eyesight. Something like that. Because it really pleases God a lot, to see us mutilate ourselves to His glory. It's in the Bible, after all, as I'm sure you would have read, if you read the Bible, which you mostly don't have to bother with, because you already know the answers, because tradition tells you so.


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