"My lord's fear will stand sponsor to the one, and his conscience to the

other, of these prognostications," replied Varney. "Sure never man chose

to run such a race as his, yet continued to retain those silly scruples!

I am fain to cheat him to his own profit. But touching your matters,

sage interpreter of the stars, I can tell you more of your own fortune

than plan or figure can show. You must be gone from hence forthwith."

"I will not," said Alasco peevishly. "I have been too much hurried

up and down of late--immured for day and night in a desolate

turret-chamber. I must enjoy my liberty, and pursue my studies, which

are of more import than the fate of fifty statesmen and favourites that

rise and burst like bubbles in the atmosphere of a court."

"At your pleasure," said Varney, with a sneer that habit had rendered

familiar to his features, and which forms the principal characteristic

which painters have assigned to that of Satan--"at your pleasure," he

said; "you may enjoy your liberty and your studies until the daggers

of Sussex's followers are clashing within your doublet and against your

ribs." The old man turned pale, and Varney proceeded. "Wot you not he

hath offered a reward for the arch-quack and poison-vender, Demetrius,

who sold certain precious spices to his lordship's cook? What! turn you

pale, old friend? Does Hali already see an infortune in the House of

Life? Why, hark thee, we will have thee down to an old house of mine

in the country, where thou shalt live with a hobnailed slave, whom thy

alchemy may convert into ducats, for to such conversion alone is thy art

serviceable."

"It is false, thou foul-mouthed railer," said Alasco, shaking with

impotent anger; "it is well known that I have approached more nearly

to projection than any hermetic artist who now lives. There are not six

chemists in the world who possess so near an approximation to the grand

arcanum--"

"Come, come," said Varney, interrupting him, "what means this, in the

name of Heaven? Do we not know one another? I believe thee to be so

perfect--so very perfect--in the mystery of cheating, that, having

imposed upon all mankind, thou hast at length in some measure imposed

upon thyself, and without ceasing to dupe others, hast become a species

of dupe to thine own imagination. Blush not for it, man--thou art

learned, and shalt have classical comfort: 'Ne quisquam Ajacem possit superare nisi Ajax.' No one but thyself could have gulled thee; and thou hast gulled the

whole brotherhood of the Rosy Cross besides--none so deep in the mystery

as thou. But hark thee in thine ear: had the seasoning which spiced

Sussex's broth wrought more surely, I would have thought better of the

chemical science thou dost boast so highly."




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024