CHAPTER I.

ROGER BACON: THE TRUE AND THE LEGENDARY.


It was in the early years of the fourteenth century that the two
pseudo-sciences of alchemy and astrology, the supposititious sisters
of chemistry and astronomy, made their way into England. At first
their progress was by no means so rapid as it had been on the
Continent; for in England, as yet, there was no educated class
prepared to give their leisure to the work of experimental
investigation. A solitary scholar here and there lighted his torch at
the altar-fire which the Continental philosophers kept burning with so
much diligence and curiosity, and was generally rewarded for his
heterodox enthusiasm by the persecution of the Church and the
prejudice of the vulgar. But by degrees the new sciences increased the
number of their adherents, and the more active intellects of the time
embraced the theory of astral influences, and were fascinated by the
delusion of the philosopher's stone. Many a secret furnace blazed day
and night with the charmed flames which were to resolve the metals
into their original elements, and place the pale student in
possession of the coveted _magisterium_, or 'universal medicine.' At
length the alchemists became a sufficiently numerous and important
body to draw the attention of the Government, which regarded their
proceedings with suspicion, from a fear that the result might
injuriously affect the coinage. In 1434 the Legislature enacted that
the making of gold or silver should be treated as a felony. But the
Parliament was influenced by a very different motive from that of the
King and his Council, its patriotic fears being awakened lest the
Executive, enabled by the new science to increase without limit the
pecuniary resources of the Crown, should be rendered independent of
Parliamentary control.

In the course of a few years, however, broader and more enlightened
views prevailed; and it came to be acknowledged that scientific
research ought to be relieved from legislative interference. In 1455
Henry VI. issued four patents in succession to certain knights, London
citizens, chemists, monks, mass-priests, and others, granting them
leave and license to undertake the discovery of the philosopher's
stone, 'to the great benefit of the realm, and the enabling the King
to pay all the debts of the Crown in _real gold and silver_.' On the
remarkable fact that these patents were issued to ecclesiastics as
well as laymen, Prynne afterwards remarked, with true theological
acridity, that they were so included because they were 'such good
artists in transubstantiating bread and wine in the Eucharist, and
were, therefore, the more likely to be able to effect the
transmutation of base metals into better.' Nothing came of the
patents. The practical common-sense of Englishmen never took very
kindly to the alchemical delusion, and Chaucer very faithfully
describes the contempt with which it was generally regarded.
Enthusiasts there were, no doubt, who firmly believed in it, and
knaves who made a profit out of it, and dupes who were preyed upon by
the knaves; and so it languished on through the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries. It seems at one time to have amused the shrewd
intellect of Queen Elizabeth, and at another to have caught the
volatile fancy of the second Villiers, Duke of Buckingham. But alchemy
was, in the main, the _modus vivendi_ of quacks and cheats, of such
impostors as Ben Jonson has drawn so powerfully in his great comedy--a
Subtle, a Face, and a Doll Common, who, in the Sir Epicure Mammons of
the time, found their appropriate victims. These creatures played on
the greed and credulity of their dupes with successful audacity, and
excited their imaginations by extravagant promises. Thus, Ben Jonson's
hero runs riot with glowing anticipations of what the alchemical
_magisterium_ can effect.

'Do you think I fable with you? I assure you,
He that has once the flower of the sun,
The perfect ruby, which we call _Elixir_,
Not only can do that, but, by its virtue,
Can confer honour, love, respect, long life;
Give safety, valour, yes, and victory,
To whom he will. In eight-and-twenty days
I'll make an old man of fourscore a child....
'Tis the secret
Of nature naturized 'gainst all infections,
Cures all diseases coming of all causes;
A month's grief in a day, a year's in twelve,
And of what age soever in a month.'

The English alchemists, however, with a few exceptions, depended for a
livelihood chiefly on their sale of magic charms, love-philters, and
even more dangerous potions, and on horoscope-casting, and
fortune-telling by the hand or by cards. They acted, also, as agents
in many a dark intrigue and unlawful project, being generally at the
disposal of the highest bidder, and seldom shrinking from any crime.

* * * * *

The earliest name of note on the roll of the English magicians,
necromancers and alchemists is that of


ROGER BACON.

This great man has some claim to be considered the father of
experimental philosophy, since it was he who first laid down the
principles upon which physical investigation should be conducted.
Speaking of science, he says, in language far in advance of his times:
'There are two modes of knowing--by argument and by experiment.
Argument winds up a question, but does not lead us to acquiesce in, or
feel certain of, the contemplation of truth, unless the truth be
proved and confirmed by experience.' To Experimental Science he
ascribed three differentiating characters: 'First, she tests by
experiment the grand conclusions of all other sciences. Next, she
discovers, with reference to the ideas connected with other sciences,
splendid truths, to which these sciences without assistance are unable
to attain. Her third prerogative is, that, unaided by the other
sciences, and of herself, she can investigate the secrets of nature.'
These truths, now accepted as trite and self-evident, ranked, in Roger
Bacon's day, as novel and important discoveries.

He was born at Ilchester, in Somersetshire, in 1214. Of his lineage,
parentage, and early education we know nothing, except that he must
have been very young when he went to Oxford, for he took orders there
before he was twenty. Joining the Franciscan brotherhood, he applied
himself to the study of Greek, Latin, Hebrew, and Arabic; but his
genius chiefly inclined towards the pursuit of the natural sciences,
in which he obtained such a mastery that his contemporaries accorded
to him the flattering title of 'The Admirable Doctor.' His lectures
gathered round him a crowd of admiring disciples; until the boldness
of their speculations aroused the suspicion of the ecclesiastical
authorities, and in 1257 they were prohibited by the General of his
Order. Then Pope Innocent IV. interfered, interdicting him from the
publication of his writings, and placing him under close supervision.
He remained in this state of tutelage until Clement IV., a man of more
liberal views, assumed the triple tiara, who not only released him
from his irksome restraints, but desired him to compose a treatise on
the sciences. This was the origin of Bacon's 'Opus Majus,' 'Opus
Minus' and 'Opus Tertius,' which he completed in a year and a half,
and despatched to Rome. In 1267 he was allowed to return to Oxford,
where he wrote his 'Compendium Studii Philosophiæ.' His vigorous
advocacy of new methods of scientific investigation, or, perhaps, his
unsparing exposure of the ignorance and vices of the monks and the
clergy, again brought down upon him the heavy arm of the
ecclesiastical tyranny. His works were condemned by the General of his
Order, and in 1278, during the pontificate of Nicholas III., he was
thrown into prison, where he was detained for several years. It is
said that he was not released until 1292, the year in which he
published his latest production, the 'Compendium Studii Theologiæ.'
Two years afterwards he died.

In many respects Bacon was greatly in advance of his contemporaries,
but his general repute ignores his real and important services to
philosophy, and builds up a glittering fabric upon mechanical
discoveries and inventions to which, it is to be feared, he cannot lay
claim. As Professor Adamson puts it, he certainly describes a method
of constructing a telescope, but not so as to justify the conclusion
that he himself was in possession of that instrument. The invention of
gunpowder has been attributed to him on the strength of a passage in
one of his works, which, if fairly interpreted, disposes at once of
the pretension; besides, it was already known to the Arabs.
Burning-glasses were in common use; and there is no proof that he made
spectacles, although he was probably acquainted with the principle of
their construction. It is not to be denied, however, that in his
interesting treatise on 'The Secrets of Nature and Art,'[2] he
exhibits every sign of a far-seeing and lively intelligence, and
foreshadows the possibility of some of our great modern inventions.
But, like so many master-minds of the Middle Ages, he was unable
wholly to resist the fascinations of alchemy and astrology. He
believed that various parts of the human body were influenced by the
stars, and that the mind was thus stimulated to particular acts,
without any relaxation or interruption of free will. His 'Mirror of
Alchemy,' of which a translation into French was executed by 'a
Gentleman of Dauphiné,' and printed in 1507, absolutely bristles with
crude and unfounded theories--as, for instance, that Nature, in the
formation of metallic veins, tends constantly to the production of
gold, but is impeded by various accidents, and in this way creates
metals in which impurities mingle with the fundamental substances. The
main elements, he says, are quicksilver and sulphur; and from these
all metals and minerals are compounded. Gold he describes as a perfect
metal, produced from a pure, fixed, clear, and red quicksilver; and
from a sulphur also pure, fixed, and red, not incandescent and
unalloyed. Iron is unclean and imperfect, because engendered of a
quicksilver which is impure, too much congealed, earthy, incandescent,
white and red, and of a similar variety of sulphur. The 'stone,' or
substance, by which the transmutation of the imperfect into the
perfect metals was to be effected must be made, in the main, he said,
of sulphur and mercury.

It is not easy to determine how soon an atmosphere of legend gathered
around the figure of 'the Admirable Doctor;' but undoubtedly it
originated quite as much in his astrological errors as in his
scientific experiments. Some of the myths of which he is the
traditional hero belong to a very much earlier period, as, for
instance, that of his Brazen Head, which appears in the old romance of
'Valentine and Orson,' as well as in the history of Albertus Magnus.
Gower, too, in his 'Confessio Amantis,' relates how a Brazen Head was
fabricated by Bishop Grosseteste. It was customary in those days to
ascribe all kinds of marvels to men who obtained a repute for
exceptional learning, and Bishop Grosseteste's Brazen Head was as
purely a fiction as Roger Bacon's. This is Gower's account:

'For of the gretè clerk Grostest
I rede how busy that he was
Upon the clergie an head of brass
To forgè; and make it fortelle
Of suchè thingès as befelle.
And seven yerès besinesse
He laidè, but for the lachèsse[3]
Of half a minute of an hour ...
He lostè all that he hadde do.'

Stow tells a story of a Head of Clay, made at Oxford in the reign of
Edward II., which, at an appointed time, spoke the mysterious words,
'Caput decidetur--caput elevabitur. Pedes elevabuntur supra caput.'
Returning to Roger Bacon's supposed invention, we find an ingenious
though improbable explanation suggested by Sir Thomas Browne, in his
'Vulgar Errors':

'Every one,' he says, 'is filled with the story of Friar
Bacon, that made a Brazen Head to speak these words, "_Time
is_." Which, though there went not the like relations, is
surely too literally received, and was but a mystical fable
concerning the philosopher's great work, wherein he eminently
laboured: implying no more by the copper head, than the
vessel wherein it was wrought; and by the words it spake,
than the opportunity to be watched, about the _tempus ortus_,
or birth of the magical child, or "philosophical King" of
Lullius, the rising of the "terra foliata" of Arnoldus; when
the earth, sufficiently impregnated with the water, ascendeth
white and splendent. Which not observed, the work is
irrecoverably lost.... Now letting slip the critical
opportunity, he missed the intended treasure: which had he
obtained, he might have made out the tradition of making a
brazen wall about England: that is, the most powerful defence
or strongest fortification which gold could have effected.'

An interpretation of the popular myth which is about as ingenious and
far-fetched as Lord Bacon's expositions of the 'Fables of the
Ancients,' of which it may be said that they possess every merit but
that of probability!

Bacon's Brazen Head, however, took hold of the popular fancy. It
survived for centuries, and the allusions to it in our literature are
sufficiently numerous. Cob, in Ben Jonson's comedy of 'Every Man in
his Humour,' exclaims: 'Oh, an my house were the Brazen Head now!
'Faith, it would e'en speak _Mo' fools yet_!' And we read in Greene's
'Tu Quoque':

'Look to yourself, sir;
The brazen head has spoke, and I must have you.'

Lord Bacon used it happily in his 'Apology to the Queen,' when
Elizabeth would have punished the Earl of Essex for his misconduct in
Ireland:--'Whereunto I said (to the end utterly to divert her),
"Madam, if you will have me speak to you in this argument, I must
speak to you as Friar Bacon's head spake, that said first, '_Time
is_,' and then, '_Time was_,' and '_Time would never be_,' for
certainly" (said I) "it is now far too late; the matter is cold, and
hath taken too much wind."' Butler introduces it in his
'Hudibras':--'Quoth he, "My head's not made of brass, as Friar Bacon's
noddle was."' And Pope, in 'The Dunciad,' writes:--'Bacon trembled for
his brazen head.' A William Terite, in 1604, gave to the world some
verse, entitled 'A Piece of Friar Bacon's Brazen-head's Prophecie.'
And, in our own time, William Blackworth Praed has written 'The Chaunt
of the Brazen Head,' which, in his prose motto, he (in the person of
Friar Bacon) addresses as 'the brazen companion of his solitary
hours.'

FOOTNOTES:

[2] Epistola Fratris Rogerii Baconis de Secretis Operibus Artis et
Naturæ et de Nullitate Magiæ.

[3] _Laches_, oversight.


'THE FAMOUS HISTORIE OF FRIAR BACON.'

Towards the end of the sixteenth century, the various legends which
had taken Friar Bacon as their central figure were brought together in
a connected form, and wrought, along with other stories of magic and
sorcery, into a continuous narrative, which became immensely popular.
It was entitled, 'The Famous Historie of Friar Bacon: Conteyning the
Wonderful Thinges that he Did in his Life; also the Manner of his
Death; with the Lives and Deaths of the Two Conjurers, Bungye and
Vandermast,' and has been reprinted by Mr. Thoms, in his 'Early
English Romances.'

According to this entertaining authority, the Friar was 'born in the
West part of England, and was sonne to a wealthy farmer, who put him
to the schoole to the parson of the towne where he was borne; not with
intent that hee should turne fryer (as hee did), but to get so much
understanding, that he might manage the better the wealth hee was to
leave him. But young Bacon took his learning so fast, that the priest
could not teach him any more, which made him desire his master that he
would speake to his father to put him to Oxford, that he might not
lose that little learning that he had gained.... The father affected
to doubt his son's capacity, and designed him still to follow the same
calling as himself; but the student had no inclination to drive fat
oxen or consort with unlettered hinds, and stole away to "a cloister"
some twenty miles off, where the monks cordially welcomed him.
Continuing the pursuit of knowledge with great avidity, he attained to
such repute that the authorities of Oxford University invited him to
repair thither. He accepted the invitation, and grew so excellent in
the secrets of Art and Nature, that not England only, but all
Christendom, admired him.'

There, in the seclusion of his cell, he made the Brazen Head on which
rests his legendary fame.

'Reading one day of the many conquests of England, he
bethought himselfe how he might keepe it hereafter from the
like conquests, and so make himselfe famous hereafter to all
posterities. This, after great study, hee found could be no
way so well done as one; which was to make a head of brasse,
and if he could make this head to speake, and heare it when
it speakes, then might hee be able to wall all England about
with brasse.[4] To this purpose he got one Fryer Bungey to
assist him, who was a great scholar and a magician, but not
to bee compared to Fryer Bacon: these two with great study
and paines so framed a head of brasse, that in the inward
parts thereof there was all things like as in a naturall
man's head. This being done, they were as farre from
perfection of the worke as they were before, for they knew
not how to give those parts that they had made motion,
without which it was impossible that it should speake: many
bookes they read, but yet coulde not finde out any hope of
what they sought, that at the last they concluded to raise a
spirit, and to know of him that which they coulde not attaine
to by their owne studies. To do this they prepared all things
ready, and went one evening to a wood thereby, and after many
ceremonies used, they spake the words of conjuration; which
the Devill straight obeyed, and appeared unto them, asking
what they would? "Know," said Fryer Bacon, "that wee have
made an artificiall head of brasse, which we would have to
speake, to the furtherance of which wee have raised thee; and
being raised, wee will here keepe thee, unlesse thou tell to
us the way and manner how to make this head to speake." The
Devill told him that he had not that power of himselfe.
"Beginner of lyes," said Fryer Bacon, "I know that thou dost
dissemble, and therefore tell it us quickly, or else wee will
here bind thee to remaine during our pleasures." At these
threatenings the Devill consented to doe it, and told them,
that with a continual fume of the six hottest simples it
should have motion, and in one month space speak; the time of
the moneth or day hee knew not: also hee told them, that if
they heard it not before it had done speaking, all their
labour should be lost. They being satisfied, licensed the
spirit for to depart.

'Then went these two learned fryers home againe, and prepared
the simples ready, and made the fume, and with continuall
watching attended when this Brazen Head would speake. Thus
watched they for three weekes without any rest, so that they
were so weary and sleepy that they could not any longer
refraine from rest. Then called Fryer Bacon his man Miles,
and told him that it was not unknown to him what paines Fryer
Bungey and himselfe had taken for three weekes space, onely
to make and to heare the Brazen Head speake, which if they
did not, then had they lost all their labour, and all England
had a great losse thereby; therefore hee intreated Miles that
he would watch whilst that they slept, and call them if the
head speake. "Fear not, good master," said Miles, "I will not
sleepe, but harken and attend upon the head, and if it doe
chance to speake, I will call you; therefore I pray take you
both your rests and let mee alone for watching this head."
After Fryer Bacon had given him a great charge the second
time, Fryer Bungey and he went to sleepe, and Miles was lefte
alone to watch the Brazen Head. Miles, to keepe him from
sleeping, got a tabor and pipe, and being merry disposed,
with his owne musicke kept from sleeping at last. After some
noyse the head spake these two words, "TIME IS." Miles,
hearing it to speake no more, thought his master would be
angry if hee waked him for that, and therefore he let them
both sleepe, and began to mocke the head in this manner:
"Thou brazen-faced Head, hath my master tooke all these
paines about thee, and now dost thou requite him with two
words, TIME IS? Had hee watched with a lawyer so long as hee
hath watched with thee, he would have given him more and
better words than thou hast yet. If thou canst speake no
wiser, they shal sleepe till doomes day for me: TIME IS! I
know Time is, and that you shall heare, Goodman Brazen-face.

'"Time is for some to eate,
Time is for some to sleepe,
Time is for some to laugh,
Time is for some to weepe.

'"Time is for some to sing,
Time is for some to pray,
Time is for some to creepe,
That have drunken all the day.

'"Do you tell us, copper-nose, when TIME IS? I hope we
schollers know our times, when to drink drunke, when to kiss
our hostess, when to goe on her score, and when to pay
it--that time comes seldome." After halfe an houre had
passed, the Head did speake againe, two words, which were
these, "TIME WAS." Miles respected these words as little as
he did the former, and would not wake them, but still scoffed
at the Brazen Head that it had learned no better words, and
have such a tutor as his master: and in scorne of it sung
this song:

'"Time was when thou, a kettle,
wert filled with better matter;
But Fryer Bacon did thee spoyle
when he thy sides did batter.

'"Time was when conscience dwelled
with men of occupation;
Time was when lawyers did not thrive
so well by men's vexation.

'"Time was when kings and beggars
of one poore stuff had being;
Time was when office kept no knaves--
that time it was worth seeing.

'"Time was a bowle of water
did give the face reflection;
Time was when women knew no paint,
which now they call complexion.

'"TIME WAS! I know that, brazen-face, without your telling; I
know Time was, and I know what things there was when Time
was; and if you speake no wiser, no master shall be waked for
mee." Thus Miles talked and sung till another halfe-houre was
gone: then the Brazen Head spake again these words, "TIME IS
PAST;" and therewith fell downe, and presently followed a
terrible noyse, with strange flashes of fire, so that Miles
was halfe dead with feare. At this noyse the two Fryers
awaked, and wondred to see the whole roome so full of smoake;
but that being vanished, they might perceive the Brazen Head
broken and lying on the ground. At this sight they grieved,
and called Miles to know how this came. Miles, halfe dead
with feare, said that it fell doune of itselfe, and that with
the noyse and fire that followed he was almost frighted out
of his wits. Fryer Bacon asked him if hee did not speake?
"Yes," quoth Miles, "it spake, but to no purpose: He have a
parret speake better in that time that you have been teaching
this Brazen Head."

'"Out on thee, villaine!" said Fryer Bacon; "thou hast undone
us both: hadst thou but called us when it did speake, all
England had been walled round about with brasse, to its glory
and our eternal fames. What were the words it spake?" "Very
few," said Miles, "and those were none of the wisest that I
have heard neither. First he said, 'TIME IS.'" "Hadst thou
called us then," said Fryer Bacon, "we had been made for
ever." "Then," said Miles, "half-an-hour after it spake
againe, and said, 'TIME WAS.'" "And wouldst thou not call us
then?" said Bungey. "Alas!" said Miles, "I thought hee would
have told me some long tale, and then I purposed to have
called you: then half-an-houre after he cried, 'TIME IS
PAST,' and made such a noyse that hee hath waked you
himselfe, mee thinkes." At this Fryer Bacon was in such a
rage that hee would have beaten his man, but he was
restrained by Bungey: but neverthelesse, for his punishment,
he with his art struck him dumbe for one whole month's space.
Thus the greate worke of these learned fryers was overthrown,
to their great griefes, by this simple fellow.'

The historian goes on to relate many instances of Friar Bacon's
thaumaturgical powers. He captures a town which the king had besieged
for three months without success. He puts to shame a German conjuror
named Vandermast, and he performs wonders in love affairs; but at
length a fatal result to one of his magical exploits induces him to
break to pieces his wonderful glass and doff his conjurer's robe.
Then, receiving intelligence of the deaths of Vandermast and Friar
Bungey, he falls into a deep grief, so that for three days he refuses
to partake of food, and keeps his chamber.

'In the time that Fryer Bacon kept his Chamber, hee fell into
divers meditations; sometimes into the vanity of Arts and
Sciences; then would he condemne himselfe for studying of
those things that were so contrary to his Order soules
health; and would say, That magicke made a man a Devill:
sometimes would hee meditate on divinity; then would hee cry
out upon himselfe for neglecting the study of it, and for
studying magicke: sometime would he meditate on the
shortnesse of mans life, then would he condemne himself for
spending a time so short, so ill as he had done his: so would
he goe from one thing to another, and in all condemne his
former studies.

'And that the world should know how truly he did repent his
wicked life, he caused to be made a great fire; and sending
for many of his friends, schollers, and others, he spake to
them after this manner: My good friends and fellow students,
it is not unknown to you, how that through my Art I have
attained to that credit, that few men living ever had: of the
wonders that I have done, all England can speak, both King
and Commons: I have unlocked the secrets of Art and Nature,
and let the world see those things that have layen hid since
the death of Hermes,[5] that rare and profound philosopher:
my studies have found the secrets of the Starres; the bookes
that I have made of them do serve for precedents to our
greatest Doctors, so excellent hath my judgment been therein.
I likewise have found out the secrets of Trees, Plants, and
Stones, with their several uses; yet all this knowledge of
mine I esteeme so lightly, that I wish that I were ignorant
and knew nothing, for the knowledge of these things (as I
have truly found) serveth not to better a man in goodnesse,
but onely to make him proude and thinke too well of himselfe.
What hath all my knowledge of Nature's secrets gained me?
Onely this, the losse of a better knowledge, the losse of
Divine Studies, which makes the immortal part of man (his
soule) blessed. I have found that my knowledge has beene a
heavy burden, and has kept downe my good thoughts; but I will
remove the cause, which are these Bookes, which I doe purpose
here before you all to burne. They all intreated him to spare
the bookes, because in them there were those things that
after-ages might receive great benefit by. He would not
hearken unto them, but threw them all into the fire, and in
that flame burnt the greatest learning in the world. Then did
he dispose of all his goods; some part he gave to poor
schollers, and some he gave to other poore folkes: nothing
left he for himselfe: then caused hee to be made in the
Church-Wall a Cell, where he locked himselfe in, and there
remained till his Death. His time hee spent in prayer,
meditation, and such Divine exercises, and did seeke by all
means to perswade men from the study of Magicke. Thus lived
hee some two years space in that Cell, never comming forth:
his meat and drink he received in at a window, and at that
window he had discourse with those that came to him; his
grave he digged with his owne nayles, and was there layed
when he dyed. Thus was the Life and Death of this famous
Fryer, who lived most part of his life a Magician, and dyed a
true Penitent Sinner and Anchorite.'

Upon this popular romance Greene, one of the best of the second-class
Elizabethan dramatists, founded his rattling comedy, entitled 'The
Historye of Fryer Bacon and Fryer Bungay,' which was written, it would
seem, in 1589, first acted about 1592, and published in 1594. He does
not servilely follow the old story-book, but introduces an under-plot
of his own, in which is shown the love of Prince Edward for Margaret,
the 'Fair Maid of Fressingfield,' whom the Prince finally surrenders
to the man she loves, his favourite and friend, Lacy, Earl of Lincoln.

FOOTNOTES:

[4] This patriotic sentiment would seem to show that the book was
written or published about the time of the Spanish Armada.

[5] Hermes Trismegistus ('thrice great'), a fabulous Chaldean
philosopher, to whom I have already made reference. The numerous
writings which bear his name were really composed by the Egyptian
Platonists; but the mediæval alchemists pretend to recognise in him
the founder of their art. Gower, in his 'Confessio Amantis,' says:

'Of whom if I the namès calle,
Hermes was one the first of alle,
To whom this Art is most applied.'

The name of Hermes was chosen because of the supposed magical powers
of the god of the caduceus.


GREENE'S COMEDY.

In Scene I., which takes place near Framlingham, in Suffolk, we find
Prince Edward eloquently expatiating on the charms of the Fair Maid to
an audience of his courtiers, one of whom advises him, if he would
prove successful in his suit, to seek the assistance of Friar Bacon, a
'brave necromancer,' who 'can make women of devils, and juggle cats
into coster-mongers.'[6] The Prince acts upon this advice.

Scene II. introduces us to Friar Bacon's cell at Brasenose College,
Oxford (an obvious anachronism, as the college was not founded until
long after Bacon's time). Enter Bacon and his poor scholar, Miles,
with books under his arm; also three doctors of Oxford: Burden, Mason,
and Clement.

BACON. Miles, where are you?

MILES. _Hic sum, doctissime et reverendissime Doctor._ (Here
I am, most learned and reverend Doctor.)

BACON. _Attulisti nostros libros meos de necromantia?_ (Hast
thou brought my books of necromancy?)

MILES. _Ecce quam bonum et quam jucundum habitare libros in
unum!_ (See how good and how pleasant it is to dwell among
books together!)

BACON. Now, masters of our academic state
That rule in Oxford, viceroys in your place,
Whose heads contain maps of the liberal arts,
Spending your time in depths of learnèd skill,
Why flock you thus to Bacon's secret cell,
A friar newly stalled in Brazen-nose?
Say what's your mind, that I may make reply.

BURDEN. Bacon, we hear that long we have suspect,
That thou art read in Magic's mystery:
In pyromancy,[7] to divine by flames;
To tell by hydromancy, ebbs and tides;
By aeromancy to discover doubts,--
To plain out questions, as Apollo did.

BACON. Well, Master Burden, what of all this?

MILES. Marry, sir, he doth but fulfil, by rehearsing of these
names, the fable of the 'Fox and the Grapes': that which is
above us pertains nothing to us.

BURD. I tell thee, Bacon, Oxford makes report,
Nay, England, and the Court of Henry says
Thou'rt making of a Brazen Head by art,
Which shall unfold strange doubts and aphorisms,
And read a lecture in philosophy:
And, by the help of devils and ghastly fiends,
Thou mean'st, ere many years or days be past,
To compass England with a wall of brass.

BACON. And what of this?

MILES. What of this, master! why, he doth speak mystically;
for he knows, if your skill fail to make a Brazen Head, yet
Master Waters' strong ale will fit his time to make him have
a copper nose....

BACON. Seeing you come as friends unto the friar,
Resolve you, doctors, Bacon can by books
Make storming Boreas thunder from his cave,
And dim fair Luna to a dark eclipse.
The great arch-ruler, potentate of hell,
Tumbles when Bacon bids him, or his fiends
Bow to the force of his pentageron.[8] ...
I have contrived and framed a head of brass
(I made Belcephon hammer out the stuff),
And that by art shall read philosophy:
And I will strengthen England by my skill,
That if ten Cæsars lived and reigned in Rome,
With all the legions Europe doth contain,
They should not touch a grass of English ground:
The work that Ninus reared at Babylon,
The brazen walls framed by Semiramis,
Carved out like to the portal of the sun,
Shall not be such as rings the English strand
From Dover to the market-place of Rye.

In this patriotic resolution of the potent friar the reader will trace
the influence of the national enthusiasm awakened, only a few years
before Greene's comedy was written and produced, by the menace of the
Spanish Armada.

It is unnecessary to quote the remainder of this scene, in which Bacon
proves his magical skill at the expense of the jealous Burden. Scene