All is falling before the onslaught of the rising multitude and growing science.

You no longer exist, there are only ruins and remnants left here." However, he did not speak those words.

He simply bowed and said: "Holy Father, I make my submission and reprobate my book." And as he thus replied his voice trembled with disgust, and his open hands made a gesture of surrender as though he were yielding up his soul.

The words he had chosen were precisely those of the required formula: _Auctor laudabiliter se subjecit et opus reprobavit_.

"The author has laudably made his submission and reprobated his work." No error could have been confessed, no hope could have accomplished self-destruction with loftier despair, more sovereign grandeur.