But, of course, this lay knowledge of herbs and so forth was not enough, for, as Andrew Borde, that man of wit and sound learning, said, quoting Galen, '"If Phisicions had nothing to do with Astronomy, Geomatry, Logycke and other sciences, coblers, curryars of lether, carpenters and smythes and al such manner of people wolde leave theyr craftes and be Phisicions," as it apereth nowe a dayes that many coblers be; fye on such ones!' Without a knowledge of astronomy how could Culpeper have discovered that a certain French quack was 'as like Mars in Capricorne as a Pomewater is an Apple,' and that therefore he was a fool? It was important also to comprehend the mystical properties of gems, many of which exercised as healing an influence as any herb. So well was this recognised that in 1217, when Alice Lunsford, a member of an old East Sussex family (whose later descendants endeavoured to extend its antiquity by forging Saxon ancestors with the delightfully improbable Christian names of David and Joseph), fell ill, she sent to Philip Daubigny and borrowed three rings from him, and when he asked for them back begged him, for the love of God, not to take them away, as without them she could not recover. Unfortunately the troops of Louis the Dauphin plundered her house shortly afterwards, and although she did recover Philip lost his rings, one of them being a sapphire for which he would not have taken 50 marks. Gems were not only held to exercise a beneficent influence when worn in rings or held in the mouth, but were also administered internally. Amongst the long list of medicines made for Edward I. during his last illness, in 1307, is 'a comforting electuary made with ambergis, musk, pearls, and jacinths, and pure gold and silver.' Lower down in the list occurs 'a precious electuary called Dyacameron,' and a fifteenth-century book of prescriptions shows that this was composed of ginger, cinnamon, clove, and other spices, black, white, and long pepper, musk, ambergris, 'the bone of a stag's heart,' coral, pure gold, and shavings of ivory, amongst other things. This same book shows a still more elaborate preparation, called 'The Duke's Electuary,' containing fifty ingredients, but mostly herbal, and not so precious or indigestible as these others. These electuaries, which were a kind of medicated sweetmeat, seem to have been taken in large quantities, as Richard de Montpelier, King Edward's apothecary, prepared over 280 pounds of electuaries made with sugar. These cost a shilling the pound, while Dyacameron ran up to 13_s._ 4_d._ the pound, and four ounces of rose comfits (_sucurosset_) flavoured with pearls and coral cost £3, 13_s._ 4_d._ Oriental ambergris to put in the king's food and in his claret was another expensive item. But all these drugs and all the care of Master Nicholas de Tyngewyk, his physician, of whose skill the king held a high opinion, proved unavailing.