"I pay him?" said the artist. "May the foul fiend pay me if I do! Had

it not been that I thought it might displease your worship, I would have

had an ounce or two of gold out of him, in exchange of the same just

weight of brick dust."

"I advise you to practise no such knavery while waiting upon me," said

Tressilian.

"Did I not say," answered the artist, "that for that reason alone I

forbore him for the present?--Knavery, call you it? Why, yonder wretched

skeleton hath wealth sufficient to pave the whole lane he lives in with

dollars, and scarce miss them out of his own iron chest; yet he goes mad

after the philosopher's stone. And besides, he would have cheated a poor

serving-man, as he thought me at first, with trash that was not worth

a penny. Match for match, quoth the devil to the collier; if his false

medicine was worth my good crowns, my true brick dust is as well worth

his good gold."

"It may be so, for aught I know," said Tressilian, "in dealing amongst

Jews and apothecaries; but understand that to have such tricks of

legerdemain practised by one attending on me diminishes my honour, and

that I will not permit them. I trust thou hast made up thy purchases?"

"I have, sir," replied Wayland; "and with these drugs will I, this very

day, compound the true orvietan, that noble medicine which is so seldom

found genuine and effective within these realms of Europe, for want

of that most rare and precious drug which I got but now from Yoglan."

[Orvietan, or Venice treacle, as it was sometimes called, was understood

to be a sovereign remedy against poison; and the reader must be

contented, for the time he peruses these pages, to hold the same

opinion, which was once universally received by the learned as well as

the vulgar.] "But why not have made all your purchases at one shop?" said his master;

"we have lost nearly an hour in running from one pounder of simples to

another."

"Content you, sir," said Wayland. "No man shall learn my secret; and

it would not be mine long, were I to buy all my materials from one

chemist."

They now returned to their inn (the famous Bell-Savage); and while the

Lord Sussex's servant prepared the horses for their journey, Wayland,

obtaining from the cook the service of a mortar, shut himself up in

a private chamber, where he mixed, pounded, and amalgamated the drugs

which he had bought, each in its due proportion, with a readiness

and address that plainly showed him well practised in all the manual

operations of pharmacy.




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024