Note 53 — Chapter II · THE MARRIED WOMAN

Savonarola, who fought in vain against the vogue of astrology (Opus singulare contra l’astrologia: a woodcut represents him disputing with an astrologer), ridicules the Roman prelates who never moved a step without consulting their astrologer. The great soldiers and sovereign princes, such as Lodovico Sforza and Francesco di Gonzaga, were no whit different. In princely houses a physician who would not condescend to practise astrology led a sorry life. He points to his phials in vain; “against death he has no medicine”; while the astrologer, a man of position, handsome, fat, well-fed, rich, gazes into the boundless heavens (Dance of Death); there was no profession more lucrative than astrology, none more tempting to ambition. It lent itself to dramatic effects. First the astrologer was usually a foreigner, no man having honour in his own country—an Italian or German, or, better still, a Moor or Gipsy. He puts on airs and keeps his clients waiting. If someone sends him a birth date, to have his horoscope cast, he sends no reply; his eyes are so fatigued by constant watching! he is so tired! And the awestruck princesses in the waiting-room say to one another that patience is necessary with “such geniuses.” And the stars were put to marvellous uses.

Bonaventure des Périers relates the amusing story of a physician of Paris, who, alleging high astrological reasons, never showed any amiability to his wife except on rainy days. The despairing lady at last hit upon a very simple expedient: every evening she had a tub of water emptied on the roof so as to produce the sound of a shower in the gutter-spout, and it rained every day! At this game the physician came off second-best and died; and his widow, who found herself very well off, was besieged with numerous offers. She incontinently sent all the physicians packing, then asked her other suitors if they were familiar with the moon and stars. Everyone thought it well to make solemn affirmation that he was, and received his congé. There was only one who was simple enough to confess that his science was limited to taking moon and stars to witness when he went to bed. He gained the day (Contes et Récréations, Tale 95). No glory was wanting to astrology; physicians and savants practised, defended, and taught it; great nobles gave it their patronage. Marshal Trivulce accepted the dedication of Pirovano’s Defence of Astrology. The science numbered eminent adepts. Luther made use of it in support of his doctrines. Michel Servet, after vainly trying theology and medicine, began to profess transcendental astrology; he foretold eclipses, plagues, wars, and the deaths of potentates; he achieved a very great success, pupils drank in his instruction. Unhappily the jealous Faculty directed him to return to the natural sciences and give up the “Almanac.” Servet then turned geographer, and it was not long before he went back into the religious mêlée. The Atlas of Astrologers, one of the most curious monuments of moral derangement, enumerates a crowd of astrologers, among them the Sibyls of the Vatican and King Alfonso of Naples.