So true a value on his sorry carcass,
And learned Pütter had not frowned us dumb.
We live; and shall as surely start to-morrow
For Nuremburg, as we drink speedy scathe
To Basil in this mantling wine, suffused
With a delicate blush-no fainter tinge is born
I' th' shut heart of a bud: pledge me, good John-
"Basil; a hot plague ravage it, with Pütter
"To stop the plague!" Even so? Do you too share Their panic-the reptiles? Ha, ha; faint through them, Desist for them!-while means enough exist
To bow the stoutest braggart of the tribe
Once more in crouching silence-means to breed
A stupid wonder in each fool again,
Now big with admiration at the skill
Which stript a vain pretender of his plumes;
And, that done, means to brand each slavish brow
So deeply, surely, ineffaceably,
That thenceforth flattery shall not pucker it
Out of the furrow of that hideous stamp
Which shows the next they fawn on, what they are,
This Basil, with its magnates one and all,
Whom I curse soul and limb. And now dispatch,
Dispatch, my trusty John; and what remains
To do, whate'er arrangements for our trip
Are yet to be completed, see you hasten
This night; we'll weather the storm at least: to-morrow
For Nuremburg! Now leave us; this grave clerk
Has divers weighty matters for my ear, (Oporinus goes out.)
And spare my lungs. At last, my gallant Festus,
I am rid of this arch-knave that follows me
As a gaunt crow a gasping sheep; at last
May give a loose to my delight. How kind,
How very kind, my first, best, only friend!
Why this looks like fidelity.
Embrace me:
Right: you shall live
you shall be proud,
Till I am worth your love;
And I-but let time show. Did you not wonder?
I sent to you because our compact weighed
Upon my conscience-(you recall the night
At Basil, which the gods confound)—because
Once more I aspire! I call you to my side;
You come.
You thought my message strange?
That I must hope, indeed, your messenger
Has mingled his own fancies with the words
Purporting to be yours.
'Tis probable, than the precious folks I leave
Said fifty-fold more roughly. Well-a-day,
'Tis true; poor Paracelsus is exposed
At last; a most egregious quack he proves,
And those he overreached must spit their hate
On one who, utterly beneath contempt,
Could yet deceive their toppling wits. You heard
Bare truth; and at my bidding you come here
To speed me on my enterprise, as once
Your lavished wishes sped me, my own friend?
Fest. What is your purpose, Aureole ?
There is no lack of precedents in a case
Like mine; at least, if not precisely mine,
The case of men cast off by those they sought
To benefit.
They really cast you off?
I only heard a vague tale of some priest,
Cured by your skill, who wrangled at your claim,
Knowing his life's worth best; and how the judge
The matter was referred to, saw no cause
To interfere, nor you to hide your full
Contempt of him; nor he, again, to smother
His wrath thereat, which raised so fierce a flame
That Basil soon was made no place for you.
Par. The affair of Liechtenfels? the shallowest cause, The last and silliest outrage-mere pretence!
I knew it, I foretold it from the first,
How soon the stupid wonder you mistook
For genuine loyalty—a cheering promise
Of better things to come-would pall and pass ;
And every word comes true.
The prophets! Just so long as I was pleased
To play off the mere marvels of my art-
Fantastic gambols leading to no end
I got huge praise; but one can ne'er keep down
Our foolish nature's weakness: there they flocked,
Poor devils, jostling, swearing, and perspiring,
Till the walls rang again; and all for me!
I had a kindness for them, which was right;
But then I stopped not till I tacked to that
A trust in them and a respect-a sort
Of sympathy for them: I must needs begin
To teach them, not amaze them; "to impart
"The spirit which should instigate the search
"Of truth: " just what you bade me! I spoke out.
Forthwith a mighty squadron, in disgust,
Filed off" the sifted chaff of the sack," I said,
Redoubling my endeavours to secure
The rest; when lo! one man had stayed thus long
Only to ascertain if I supported
This tenet of his, or that; another loved
To hear impartially before he judged,
And having heard, now judged; this bland disciple
Passed for my dupe, but all along, it seems,
Spied error where his neighbours marvelled most:
That fiery doctor who had hailed me friend,
Did it because my by-paths, once proved wrong
And beaconed properly, would commend again
The good old ways our sires jogged safely o'er,
Though not their squeamish sons; the other worthy
Discovered divers verses of St. John,
Which, read successively, refreshed the soul,
But, muttered backwards, cured the gout, the stone,
The colic, and what not :-quid multa? The end
Was a clear class-room, with a quiet leer
From grave folk, and a sour reproachful glance
From those in chief, who, cap in hand, installed
The new professor scarce a year before;
And a vast flourish about patient merit
Obscured awhile by flashy tricks, but sure
Sooner or later to emerge in splendour-
Of which the example was some luckless wight
Whom my arrival had discomfited,
But now, it seems, the general voice recalled
To fill my chair, and so efface the stain
Basil had long incurred. I sought no better-
Nought but a quiet dismissal from my post;
While from my heart I wished them better suited,
And better served. Good night to Basil, then!
But fast as I proposed to rid the tribe
Of my obnoxious back, I could not spare them
The pleasure of a parting kick.
Despise them as they merit!
'Tis with as very contempt as ever turned
Flesh into stone: this courteous recompense!
This grateful... Festus, were your nature fit
To be defiled, your eyes the eyes to ache
At gangrened blotches, eating poisonous blains,
The ulcered barky scurf of leprosy
Which finds--a man, and leaves--a hideous thing
That cannot but be mended by hell fire,
-I say that, could you see as I could show,
I would lay bare to you these human hearts
Which God cursed long ago, and devils make since
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