The seas Leaped, a vast cataract, into the abyss; The forests and the fields slid off, and floated Like wooded islands in the air.

The dead Were hurled forth from their sepulchres; the living Were mingled with them, and themselves were dead,-- All being dead; and the fair, shining cities Dropped out like jewels from a broken crown.
Naught but the core of the great globe remained, A skeleton of stone.

And over it The wrack of matter drifted like a cloud, And then recoiled upon itself, and fell Back on the empty world, that with the weight Reeled, staggered, righted, and then headlong plunged Into the darkness, as a ship, when struck By a great sea, throws off the waves at first On either side, then settles and goes down Into the dark abyss, with her dead crew.
CAVALIERI.
But the earth does not move.
MICHAEL ANGELO.
Who knows?
who knowst?
There are great truths that pitch their shining tents Outside our walls, and though but dimly seen In the gray dawn, they will be manifest When the light widens into perfect day.
A certain man, Copernicus by name, Sometime professor here in Rome, has whispered It is the earth, and not the sun, that moves.
What I beheld was only in a dream, Yet dreams sometimes anticipate events, Being unsubstantial images of things As yet unseen.
V MACELLO DE' CORVI MICHAEL ANGELO, BENVENUTO CELLINI.
MICHAEL ANGELO.
So, Benvenuto, you return once more To the Eternal City.

'T is the centre To which all gravitates.

One finds no rest Elsewhere than here.