public chamber on the piano nobile, the second floor. Bellarmino, Seghizzi, and probably some Dominican friars awaited him, along with a notary. Bellarmino first “warned” Galileo. Galileo objected in some way, perhaps in so mild a fashion as looking grumpy. That “refusal” authorized Seghizzi to take the second action in Paul’s order, and he duly gave Galileo a precept “completely” to abandon Copernicus’s ideas and never again to deal with them in any way, shape or form. Or as the record in Galileo’s dossier has it:
In150 the palace, the said Most Illustrious Lord Cardinal Bellarmino’s usual residence and in his lordship’s rooms, the same lord cardinal, the above-mentioned Galileo having been summoned, and the same being in the said cardinal’s house, in the presence of the Very Reverend Father Brother Michelangelo Seghizzi of Lodi, Order of Preachers, Commissary general of the Holy Office, warned the aforesaid Galileo of the error of the abovesaid opinion [Copernicus’s] and that he should abandon it; and thereafter and immediately, in my [presence], etc. and of witnesses, etc. the same lord cardinal still besides being present, the abovesaid Father Commissary, the aforesaid Galileo still also present and established, enjoined and ordered him in His Holiness the pope’s own name and of the whole Congregation of the Holy Office that he completely give up the abovesaid opinion that the sun is the center of the universe and immobile and that the earth moves, nor hold, teach or defend the same otherwise in any manner in word or writing; otherwise, he will be proceeded against in the Holy Office. To which precept the same Galileo agreed and promised to obey. Above which, etc. Done at Rome as above, the Reverend Badino Nores of Nicosia in the kingdom of Cyprus and Agostino Mongardo of the place of the abbey of Rosa in the diocese of Montepulciano, familiars of the said lord cardinal being present, witnesses, etc.
In short, Galileo received both a warning and a precept, a common combination as we shall see in the next chapter, and agreed to the second, which was administered and recorded in the proper form. He was completely to abandon his belief in Copernicus’s core beliefs, which he had publicly made his own in Sunspot Letters of 1613, and under no circumstances teach, defend, or deal with them. If he did, he would be imprisoned or proceeded against by the Holy Office, two more or less equivalent threats (see the next chapter). Galileo the Copernican had been silenced.
The Aftermath
Bellarmino stayed busy the next week. First, again on Paul’s orders, he put three books before the Index, Foscarini’s, Copernicus’s, and Diego Zuñiga’s Commentary on Job (1584).151 Foscarini’s book, despite Millini’s protection of its author, was to be condemned and the other two suspended.152 All of them got into trouble because of Galileo, including the relatively obscure Zuñiga whom Galileo had cited in his “Letter to Christina.” That Millini, one of the two most powerful cardinals in Rome, could not protect his client Foscarini emphasizes how poorly advised Galileo had been to rely on Alessandro Orsini. Millini missed this critical meeting altogether, maybe taken by surprise, since there is no sign the Index had previously considered any of these books.153 The discussion may have been quite lively, since two of Galileo’s most powerful backers, Cardinals Maffeo Barberini and Bonifazio Caetani, allegedly tried to prevent the banning of Copernicus.154 Their resistance may have led to his book’s being only implicitly labeled heretical and to its suspension “pending correction.” It may be that Galileo’s victim Francesco Ingoli, although not yet a consultor of the Index, advised his long-time patron Caetani to go easy on Copernicus.155 Not too far into the future, Ingoli would be assigned to revise Copernicus’s book, which he argued was useful to mathematicians.156 No matter how violent or lengthy or careful the debate, the important part of the final draft decree is almost identical to the original proposal. Then that same day, Thursday 3 March, Bellarmino announced to the Inquisition and the pope both what he had done to Galileo and almost in the same breath (both items appear in the same entry in the decree register) the Index’s proposed decree.157 Six other cardinals attended, including Millini, Agostino Galamini, and Ferdinando Taverna, but, as on nearly all previous important occasions, neither Paolo Emilio Sfondrato nor, perhaps more important to Galileo, Giovanni Battista Bonsi. Unlike Sfondrato, Bonsi usually attended regularly, including on the last occasion of significance to Galileo when his Sunspot Letters had been sent to the censor; Bonsi may have been sulking after he had been frozen out when Millini originally delivered the order to Bellarmino a week earlier. After Bellarmino reported, Paul ordered the master of the sacred palace to issue the decree as drafted.
The next day, Tuscan ambassador Piero Guicciardini reported on all this activity.158 Despite his bias against Galileo, he at first made the situation appear much more favorable than it was. He opened his letter by saying that he, Cardinal Francesco del Monte, and “more, the cardinals of the Holy Office” had “persuaded” Galileo to quiet down and keep his opinion to himself lest it appear that he had come to Rome “to be scarred.” The ambassador did not think that Galileo would suffer personally “because as a prudent man he will want and believe what holy church wants and believes.” Guicciardini did not really believe that. Instead, he stressed how dangerous Rome was for Galileo, especially under a pope “who abhors learning and these clever men and cannot stand to listen to these novelties and subtleties.” Everybody tried to accommodate his ideas to the pope’s and, if he had any brains, say the opposite of what he thought. Galileo in particular faced a number of friars who were constantly intriguing to destroy him. Galileo should therefore immediately cut short his stay in Rome. Then the ambassador implicitly threatened the grand duke, reminding him obscurely about what had happened in similar Florentine cases of interest to the Inquisition in the past. One of those was surely Rodrigo Alidosi’s, which was still running, although it had nothing whatsoever to do with ideas.159 I see no reason to run such risk, harped Guicciardini, merely to satisfy Galileo. His “passion” threatened to bring down anyone who supported him. Guicciardini meant the new Cardinal Carlo de’ Medici, about to come to Rome. It would do incalculable damage if he failed to endorse the proceedings of the Inquisition, “the foundation and base of religion and the most important congregation in Rome.” Guicciardini then revealed the depth of his own ignorance—as well as his negative attitude to “clever men”—by warning that anybody who dabbled in matters “astrological or philosophical” would get into big trouble, again because Paul was such an anti-intellectual blockhead and everybody tried to imitate him. Neither Guicciardini’s characterization of the pope nor that of his court came anywhere near reality. True, the books stuffing the pope’s new apartments in the Quirinal Palace may have been about the law, but they were still books. And all those cardinals hosting Galileo’s extravaganzas were hardly trying to act like “fat-headed ignoramuses,” in Guicciardini’s crude phrase. Nevertheless, his point sank in, and the letters from Florence took on a much more cautious tone.
Gucciardini sent his dispatch just a moment too soon. The next day, Saturday 5 March, the Index publicly handed down its judgment against Copernicus.160 This directly violated Paul’s order of 3 March that the master of the sacred palace issue the decree. That official did not even sign it. Instead it bore the signatures of Sfondrato in almost his last appearance in the congregation’s records, together with that of the Index’s brand-new secretary. Perhaps as a result of the rivalry between secretary and master (as well as Sfondrato’s indifference), the text of the decree of 5 March looks as if it were put together during a boxing match. Its syntax leaves in doubt the fate of the other two books bracketed with Foscarini’s. The only certainty came at his expense, a point driven home when his printer was chased down by the Inquisition a few months later.161
Otherwise, there was a great deal of confusion over who had done the deed and what deed it was. Most people decided the Inquisition had issued both the order to Galileo (right) and the decree banning Copernicus (wrong), and quite a few collapsed one into the other (also wrong).162 Again, what mattered was perception; on that ground putting the Inquisition in charge and making its principal target Galileo was exactly accurate. Antonio Querenghi offered one of the most graphic accounts of what happened, writing that Galileo’s ideas had gone up in “the smoke of alchemy” in the face of the “infallible dogmas” expressed in the Index decree.163
