Beauvallet

by Georgette Heyer

‘Alchemy is a snare, as also astrology,’ said Don Manuel sternly. ‘I regard the tenets of Paracelsus as pernicious, señor, but I believe they are much studied and thought of in England. A creed both absurd and heretical! Why, I have heard a man doubt that his neighbour was born under the sign of Sagittarius for no better reason than that he had a ruddy cheek, or a chestnut beard. Likewise you will meet those who will not stir beyond their doors without they have a piece of coral about them, or a sapphire to give them courage, or some other such toys, fit only for children or infidels. Then you will hear talk of the sky’s division into Houses, this one governing such-and-such a thing, and that some other. A silly conceit, obtaining credulity of the foolish.’ Thus Don Manuel disposed of Paracelsus, very summarily.