[Kepler:]
All heavens dressed in black
And the church is not of help here
[Wallenstein:]
Yet "Comets importing change of time and state"
As the poet says
[Kepler:]
Fiery demons in the sky
They are
Or angels
That's hard to judge
Like pilgrims in the skies
They roam and lurk
With sparkling, wrathful lies
Not long
They will descend
And along with them
The scourge of angry, bad, revolting stars
These signs are evil
Not conquest
But famine
Then war
And finally death
[Wallenstein:]
Astrology
The highest science of all
It is a mirror
Of what's to come
But since the planets cannot command
Will they inspire me, at least?
[Kepler:]
Your constellation's promising
Although
We all will mourn in blood