19: The Revealing Science of God

I remember 1499 like yesterday; the French army driving us from Milan like so many sheep from a barn. The French bowmen cavorting around my clay model for Sforza's precious equestrian sculpture, throwing rocks and sticks at it until it was nothing more than fragments.

I was safe in this castle, for a while, but eventually we all were forced to flee. Before the French threatened, I designed and built many waterworks here, fountains, canals, and the like. I'm surprised the French didn't destroy all of these things, in addition to my fine study of Ludovico's lumbering, friendly gelding. Then again, the French have proved themselves somewhat more civilized in more recent years.

I continue to see the disembodied, shadowy visitor, awake and in dreams. In one dream -- the first night I returned here -- the figure made an attempt to communicate with me in my own tongue, in Italian. Often when I dream of this figure, I find that my own mind must struggle to encompass what the figure is attempting to communicate -- as if a vast number of tiny, very logical voices speak in consort, and harmony, and out of that consort, rises joy, anger, fear...

...but in this dream, it was the figure's mind that seemed to struggle to encompass my way of thinking. My logical conclusions, my discoveries, my workbooks arise out of my passion for nature, and work... I saw myself reflected in the shadow, but backwards. I no longer fear this grey figure; I only wish I knew what manner of spirit or... or thing it is.

Con lei foss'io da che si parte il sole, E non ci vedess'altri che le stelle, Sol una notte, e mai non fosse l'alba, E non se transformasse in verde selva Per uscirmi di braccia, come il giorno Ch'Apollo la seguia qua giú per terra! Ma io sarò sotterra in secca selva, E 'l giorno andra pien di minute stelle, Prima ch'a si dolce alba arrivi il sole.

To be with her when the sun fades, To be seen by none but the stars For one night, never to greet the dawn, She never transformed into green wood To flee my arms, as happened the day That Apollo harried her across the Earth! But I shall be under the earth, And the day will be filled with tiny stars Before such a sweet dawn shall arrive.