‘Do you think I fable with you? I assure you,He that has once the flower of the sun,The perfect ruby, which we callElixir,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 daysI’ll make an old man of fourscore a child....’Tis the secretOf 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.’
‘Do you think I fable with you? I assure you,He that has once the flower of the sun,The perfect ruby, which we callElixir,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 daysI’ll make an old man of fourscore a child....’Tis the secretOf 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.’
‘Do you think I fable with you? I assure you,He that has once the flower of the sun,The perfect ruby, which we callElixir,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 daysI’ll make an old man of fourscore a child....’Tis the secretOf 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
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 newmethods 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]heexhibits 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 AdmirableDoctor;’ 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 GrostestI rede how busy that he wasUpon the clergie an head of brassTo forgè; and make it fortelleOf suchè thingès as befelle.And seven yerès besinesseHe laidè, but for the lachèsse[3]Of half a minute of an hour ...He lostè all that he hadde do.’
‘For of the gretè clerk GrostestI rede how busy that he wasUpon the clergie an head of brassTo forgè; and make it fortelleOf suchè thingès as befelle.And seven yerès besinesseHe laidè, but for the lachèsse[3]Of half a minute of an hour ...He lostè all that he hadde do.’
‘For of the gretè clerk GrostestI rede how busy that he wasUpon the clergie an head of brassTo forgè; and make it fortelleOf suchè thingès as befelle.And seven yerès besinesseHe 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 thetempus 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.’
‘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 thetempus 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 speakMo’ fools yet!’ And we read in Greene’s ‘Tu Quoque’:
‘Look to yourself, sir;The brazen head has spoke, and I must have you.’
‘Look to yourself, sir;The brazen head has spoke, and I must have you.’
‘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 thisargument, 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.’
[2]Epistola Fratris Rogerii Baconis de Secretis Operibus Artis et Naturæ et de Nullitate Magiæ.
[2]Epistola Fratris Rogerii Baconis de Secretis Operibus Artis et Naturæ et de Nullitate Magiæ.
[3]Laches, oversight.
[3]Laches, oversight.
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 wassonne 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 watchwhilst 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, whenTime 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 spoylewhen he thy sides did batter.‘“Time was when conscience dwelledwith men of occupation;Time was when lawyers did not thriveso well by men’s vexation.‘“Time was when kings and beggarsof one poore stuff had being;Time was when office kept no knaves—that time it was worth seeing.‘“Time was a bowle of waterdid 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 afterhe 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.’
‘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 watchwhilst 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.
‘“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.
‘“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, whenTime 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 spoylewhen he thy sides did batter.‘“Time was when conscience dwelledwith men of occupation;Time was when lawyers did not thriveso well by men’s vexation.‘“Time was when kings and beggarsof one poore stuff had being;Time was when office kept no knaves—that time it was worth seeing.‘“Time was a bowle of waterdid give the face reflection;Time was when women knew no paint,which now they call complexion.
‘“Time was when thou, a kettle,wert filled with better matter;But Fryer Bacon did thee spoylewhen he thy sides did batter.‘“Time was when conscience dwelledwith men of occupation;Time was when lawyers did not thriveso well by men’s vexation.‘“Time was when kings and beggarsof one poore stuff had being;Time was when office kept no knaves—that time it was worth seeing.‘“Time was a bowle of waterdid give the face reflection;Time was when women knew no paint,which now they call complexion.
‘“Time was when thou, a kettle,wert filled with better matter;But Fryer Bacon did thee spoylewhen he thy sides did batter.
‘“Time was when conscience dwelledwith men of occupation;Time was when lawyers did not thriveso well by men’s vexation.
‘“Time was when kings and beggarsof one poore stuff had being;Time was when office kept no knaves—that time it was worth seeing.
‘“Time was a bowle of waterdid 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 afterhe 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 Ihave 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 thatCell, 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.’
‘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 Ihave 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 thatCell, 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.
[4]This patriotic sentiment would seem to show that the book was written or published about the time of the Spanish Armada.
[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.
[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.’
‘Of whom if I the namès calle,Hermes was one the first of alle,To whom this Art is most applied.’
‘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.
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 stateThat 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 saysThou’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, yetMaster 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 booksMake 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 fiendsBow 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 strandFrom Dover to the market-place of Rye.
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 stateThat 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 saysThou’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, yetMaster 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 booksMake 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 fiendsBow 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 strandFrom 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 III. passes at Harleston Fair, and introduces Lacy, Earl of Lincoln, disguised as a rustic, and the comelyMargaret. In Scene IV., at Hampton Court, Henry III. receives Elinor of Castile, who is betrothed to his son, Prince Edward, and arranges with her father, the Emperor, a competition between the great German magician, Jaques Vandermast, and Friar Bacon, ‘England’s only flower.’ In Scene V. we pass on to Oxford, where some comic incidents occur between Prince Edward (in disguise) and his courtiers; and in Scene VI. to Friar Bacon’s cell, where the friar shows the Prince in his ‘glass prospective,’ or magic mirror, the figures of Margaret, Friar Bungay, and Earl Lacy, and reveals the progress of Lacy’s suit to the rustic beauty. Bacon summons Bungay to Oxford—straddling on a devil’s back—and the scene then changes to the Regent-house, and degenerates into the rudest farce. At Fressingfield, in Scene VIII., we find Prince Edward threatening to slay Earl Lacy unless he gives up to him the Fair Maid of Fressingfield; but, after a struggle, his better nature prevails, and he retires from his suit, leaving Margaret to become the Countess of Lincoln. Scene IX. carries us back to Oxford, where Henry III., the Emperor, and a goodly company have assembled to witness the trial of skill between the English and the German magicians—the first international competition on record!—in which, of course, Vandermast is put to ridicule.
Passing over Scene X. as unimportant, we return, in Scene XI., to Bacon’s cell, where the great magician is lying on his bed, with a white wand in one hand, a book in the other, and beside him a lighted lamp.The Brazen Head is there, with Miles, armed, keeping watch over it. Here the dramatist closely follows the old story. The friar falls asleep; the head speaks once and twice, and Miles fails to wake his master. It speaks the third time. ‘A lightning flashes forth, and a hand appears that breaks down the head with a hammer.’ Bacon awakes to lament over the ruin of his work, and load the careless Miles with unavailing reproaches. But the whole scene is characteristic enough to merit transcription:
Scene XI.—Friar Bacon’s Cell.Friar Baconis discovered lying on a bed, with a white stick in one hand, a book in the other, and a lamp lighted beside him; and theBrazen Head, andMileswith weapons by him.Bacon.Miles, where are you?Miles.Here, sir.Bacon.How chance you tarry so long?Miles.Think you that the watching of the Brazen Head craves no furniture? I warrant you, sir, I have so armed myself that if all your devils come, I will not fear them an inch.Bacon.Miles,Thou know’st that I have divèd into hell,And sought the darkest palaces of fiends;That with my magic spells great BelcephonHath left his lodge and kneelèd at my cell;The rafters of the earth rent from the poles,And three-form’d Luna hid her silver looks,Tumbling upon her concave continent,When Bacon read upon his magic book.With seven years’ tossing necromantic charms,Poring upon dark Hecat’s principles,I have framed out a monstrous head of brass,That, by the enchanting forces of the devil,Shall tell out strange and uncouth aphorisms,And girt fair England with a wall of brass.Bungay and I have watch’d these threescore days,And now our vital spirits crave some rest:If Argus lived and had his hundred eyes,They could not over-watch Phobetor’s[9]night.Now, Miles, in thee rests Friar Bacon’s weal:The honour and renown of all his lifeHangs in the watching of this Brazen Head;Therefore I charge thee by the immortal GodThat holds the souls of men within his fist,This night thou watch; for ere the morning starSends out his glorious glister on the northThe Head will speak. Then, Miles, upon thy lifeWake me; for then by magic art I’ll workTo end my seven years’ task with excellence.If that a wink but shut thy watchful eye,Then farewell Bacon’s glory and his fame!Draw close the curtains, Miles: now, for thy life,Be watchful, and ... (Falls asleep.)Miles.So; I thought you would talk yourself asleep anon; and ’tis no marvel, for Bungay on the days, and he on the nights, have watched just these ten and fifty days: now this is the night, and ’tis my task, and no more. Now, Jesus bless me, what a goodly head it is! and a nose! You talk ofNos[10]autem glorificare; but here’s a nose that I warrant may be calledNos autem popularefor the people of the parish. Well, I am furnished with weapons: now, sir, I will set me down by a post, and make it as good as a watchman to wake me, if I chance to slumber. I thought, Goodman Head, I would call you out of yourmemento.[11]Passion o’ God, I have almost broke my pate! (A great noise.) Up, Miles, to your task; take your brown-bill in your hand; here’s some of your master’s hobgoblins abroad.The Brazen Head(speaks). Time is.Miles.Time is! Why, Master Brazen-Head, you have such a capital nose, and answer you with syllables, ‘Time is’? Is this my master’s cunning, to spend seven years’ study about ‘Time is’? Well, sir, it may be we shall have some better orationsof it anon: well, I’ll watch you as narrowly as ever you were watched, and I’ll play with you as the nightingale with the glow-worm; I’ll set a prick against my breast.[12]Now rest there, Miles. Lord have mercy upon me, I have almost killed myself. (A great noise.) Up, Miles; list how they rumble.The Brazen Head(loquitur). Time was.Miles.Well, Friar Bacon, you have spent your seven years’ study well, that can make your Head speak but two words at once, ‘Time was.’ Yea, marry, time was when my master was a wise man; but that was before he began to make the Brazen Head. You shall lie while you ache, an your head speak no better. Well, I will watch, and walk up and down, and be a peripatetian[13]and a philosopher of Aristotle’s stamp. (A great noise.) What, a fresh noise? Take thy pistols in hand, Miles. (A lightning flashes forth, and a Hand appears that breaks down theHeadwith a hammer.) Master, master, up! Hell’s broken loose! Your Head speaks; and there’s such a thunder and lightning, that I warrant all Oxford is up in arms. Out of your bed, and take a brownbill in your hand; the latter day is come.Bacon.Miles, I come. (Rises and comes forward.)O, passing warily watched!Bacon will make thee next himself in love.When spake the Head?Miles.When spake the Head? Did you not say that he should tell strange principles of philosophy? Why, sir, it speaks but two words at a time.Bacon.Why, villain, hath it spoken oft?Miles.Oft! ay, marry hath it, thrice; but in all those three times it hath uttered but seven words.Bacon.As how?Miles.Marry, sir, the first time he said, ‘Time is,’ as if Fabius Commentator[14]should have pronounced a sentence; then he said,‘Time was;’ and the third time, with thunder and lightning, as in great choler, he said, ‘Time is past.’Bacon.’Tis past, indeed. Ah, villain! Time is past;My life, my fame, my glory, are all past.Bacon,The turrets of thy hope are ruined down,Thy seven years’ study lieth in the dust:Thy Brazen Head lies broken through a slaveThat watched, and would not when the Head did will.What said the Head first?Miles.Even, sir, ‘Time is.’Bacon.Villain, if thou hadst called to Bacon then,If thou hadst watched, and waked the sleepy friar,The Brazen Head had uttered aphorisms,And England had been circled round with brass:But proud Asmenoth,[15]ruler of the North,And Demogorgon,[16]master of the Fates,Grudge that a mortal man should work so much.Hell trembled at my deep-commanding spells,Fiends frowned to see a man their over-match;Bacon might boast more than a man might boast;But now the braves[17]of Bacon have an end,Europe’s conceit of Bacon hath an end,His seven years’ practice sorteth to ill end:And, villain, sith my glory hath an end,I will appoint thee to some fatal end.[18]Villain, avoid! get thee from Bacon’s sight!Vagrant, go, roam and range about the world,And perish as a vagabond on earth!Miles.Why, then, sir, you forbid me your service?Bacon.My service, villain, with a fatal curse,That direful plagues and mischief fall on thee.Miles.’Tis no matter, I am against you with the old proverb, ‘The more the fox is cursed, the better he fares.’ God be with you, sir: I’ll take but a book in my hand, a wide-sleeved gown on my back, and a crowned cap[19]on my head, and see if I can merit promotion.Bacon.Some fiend or ghost haunt on thy weary steps,Until they do transport thee quick to Hell!For Bacon shall have never any day,To lose the fame and honour of his Head.[Exeunt.
Scene XI.—Friar Bacon’s Cell.
Friar Baconis discovered lying on a bed, with a white stick in one hand, a book in the other, and a lamp lighted beside him; and theBrazen Head, andMileswith weapons by him.
Friar Baconis discovered lying on a bed, with a white stick in one hand, a book in the other, and a lamp lighted beside him; and theBrazen Head, andMileswith weapons by him.
Bacon.Miles, where are you?
Miles.Here, sir.
Bacon.How chance you tarry so long?
Miles.Think you that the watching of the Brazen Head craves no furniture? I warrant you, sir, I have so armed myself that if all your devils come, I will not fear them an inch.
Bacon.Miles,Thou know’st that I have divèd into hell,And sought the darkest palaces of fiends;That with my magic spells great BelcephonHath left his lodge and kneelèd at my cell;The rafters of the earth rent from the poles,And three-form’d Luna hid her silver looks,Tumbling upon her concave continent,When Bacon read upon his magic book.With seven years’ tossing necromantic charms,Poring upon dark Hecat’s principles,I have framed out a monstrous head of brass,That, by the enchanting forces of the devil,Shall tell out strange and uncouth aphorisms,And girt fair England with a wall of brass.Bungay and I have watch’d these threescore days,And now our vital spirits crave some rest:If Argus lived and had his hundred eyes,They could not over-watch Phobetor’s[9]night.Now, Miles, in thee rests Friar Bacon’s weal:The honour and renown of all his lifeHangs in the watching of this Brazen Head;Therefore I charge thee by the immortal GodThat holds the souls of men within his fist,This night thou watch; for ere the morning starSends out his glorious glister on the northThe Head will speak. Then, Miles, upon thy lifeWake me; for then by magic art I’ll workTo end my seven years’ task with excellence.If that a wink but shut thy watchful eye,Then farewell Bacon’s glory and his fame!Draw close the curtains, Miles: now, for thy life,Be watchful, and ... (Falls asleep.)
Miles.So; I thought you would talk yourself asleep anon; and ’tis no marvel, for Bungay on the days, and he on the nights, have watched just these ten and fifty days: now this is the night, and ’tis my task, and no more. Now, Jesus bless me, what a goodly head it is! and a nose! You talk ofNos[10]autem glorificare; but here’s a nose that I warrant may be calledNos autem popularefor the people of the parish. Well, I am furnished with weapons: now, sir, I will set me down by a post, and make it as good as a watchman to wake me, if I chance to slumber. I thought, Goodman Head, I would call you out of yourmemento.[11]Passion o’ God, I have almost broke my pate! (A great noise.) Up, Miles, to your task; take your brown-bill in your hand; here’s some of your master’s hobgoblins abroad.
The Brazen Head(speaks). Time is.
Miles.Time is! Why, Master Brazen-Head, you have such a capital nose, and answer you with syllables, ‘Time is’? Is this my master’s cunning, to spend seven years’ study about ‘Time is’? Well, sir, it may be we shall have some better orationsof it anon: well, I’ll watch you as narrowly as ever you were watched, and I’ll play with you as the nightingale with the glow-worm; I’ll set a prick against my breast.[12]Now rest there, Miles. Lord have mercy upon me, I have almost killed myself. (A great noise.) Up, Miles; list how they rumble.
The Brazen Head(loquitur). Time was.
Miles.Well, Friar Bacon, you have spent your seven years’ study well, that can make your Head speak but two words at once, ‘Time was.’ Yea, marry, time was when my master was a wise man; but that was before he began to make the Brazen Head. You shall lie while you ache, an your head speak no better. Well, I will watch, and walk up and down, and be a peripatetian[13]and a philosopher of Aristotle’s stamp. (A great noise.) What, a fresh noise? Take thy pistols in hand, Miles. (A lightning flashes forth, and a Hand appears that breaks down theHeadwith a hammer.) Master, master, up! Hell’s broken loose! Your Head speaks; and there’s such a thunder and lightning, that I warrant all Oxford is up in arms. Out of your bed, and take a brownbill in your hand; the latter day is come.
Bacon.Miles, I come. (Rises and comes forward.)O, passing warily watched!Bacon will make thee next himself in love.When spake the Head?
Miles.When spake the Head? Did you not say that he should tell strange principles of philosophy? Why, sir, it speaks but two words at a time.
Bacon.Why, villain, hath it spoken oft?
Miles.Oft! ay, marry hath it, thrice; but in all those three times it hath uttered but seven words.
Bacon.As how?
Miles.Marry, sir, the first time he said, ‘Time is,’ as if Fabius Commentator[14]should have pronounced a sentence; then he said,‘Time was;’ and the third time, with thunder and lightning, as in great choler, he said, ‘Time is past.’
Bacon.’Tis past, indeed. Ah, villain! Time is past;My life, my fame, my glory, are all past.Bacon,The turrets of thy hope are ruined down,Thy seven years’ study lieth in the dust:Thy Brazen Head lies broken through a slaveThat watched, and would not when the Head did will.What said the Head first?
Miles.Even, sir, ‘Time is.’
Bacon.Villain, if thou hadst called to Bacon then,If thou hadst watched, and waked the sleepy friar,The Brazen Head had uttered aphorisms,And England had been circled round with brass:But proud Asmenoth,[15]ruler of the North,And Demogorgon,[16]master of the Fates,Grudge that a mortal man should work so much.Hell trembled at my deep-commanding spells,Fiends frowned to see a man their over-match;Bacon might boast more than a man might boast;But now the braves[17]of Bacon have an end,Europe’s conceit of Bacon hath an end,His seven years’ practice sorteth to ill end:And, villain, sith my glory hath an end,I will appoint thee to some fatal end.[18]Villain, avoid! get thee from Bacon’s sight!Vagrant, go, roam and range about the world,And perish as a vagabond on earth!
Miles.Why, then, sir, you forbid me your service?
Bacon.My service, villain, with a fatal curse,That direful plagues and mischief fall on thee.
Miles.’Tis no matter, I am against you with the old proverb, ‘The more the fox is cursed, the better he fares.’ God be with you, sir: I’ll take but a book in my hand, a wide-sleeved gown on my back, and a crowned cap[19]on my head, and see if I can merit promotion.
Bacon.Some fiend or ghost haunt on thy weary steps,Until they do transport thee quick to Hell!For Bacon shall have never any day,To lose the fame and honour of his Head.
[Exeunt.
Scene XII. passes in King Henry’s Court, and the royal consent is given to Earl Lacy’s marriage with the Fair Maid, which is fixed to take place on the same day as Prince Edward’s marriage to the Princess Elinor. In Scene XIII. we again go back to Bacon’s cell. The friar is bewailing the destruction of his Brazen Head to Friar Bungay, when two young gentlemen, named Lambert and Sealsby, enter, in order to look into the ‘glass prospective,’ and see how their fathers are faring. Unhappily, at this very moment, the elder Lambert and Sealsby, having quarrelled, are engaged ‘in combat hard by Fressingfield,’ and stab each other to the death, whereupon their sonsimmediately come to blows, with a like fatal result. Bacon, deeply affected, breaks the magic crystal which has been the unwitting cause of so sad a catastrophe, expresses his regret that he ever dabbled in the unholy science, and announces his resolve to spend the remainder of his life ‘in pure devotion.’
At Fressingfield, in Scene XIV., the opportune arrival of Lacy and his friends prevents Margaret from carrying out her intention of retiring to the nunnery at Framlingham, and with obliging readiness she consents to marry the Earl. Scene XV. shifts to Bacon’s cell, where a devil complains that the friar hath raised him from the darkest deep to search about the world for Miles, his man, and torment him in punishment for his neglect of orders.
Miles makes his appearance, and after some comic dialogue, intended to tickle the ears of the groundlings, mounts astride the demon’s back, and goes off to ——! In Scene XVI., and last, we return to the Court, where royalty makes a splendid show, and the two brides—the Princess Elinor and the Countess Margaret—display their rival charms. Of course the redoubtable friar is present, and in his concluding speech leaps over a couple of centuries to make a glowing compliment to Queen Elizabeth, which seems worth quotation: