"And that is better still: for garrulous patients are ill to cure,
especially in fever: I say then that Eristratus gave us the cerebral
nerves and the milk vessels; nay more, he was the inventor of lithotomy,
whatever you may say. Then came another whom I forget: you do somewhat
perturb me with your petty exceptions. Then came Ammonius the author of
lithotrity, and here comes Hans with the basin--to stay your volubility.
Blow thy chafer, boy, and hand me the basin; 'tis well. Arabians quotha!
What are they but a sect of yesterday, who about the year 1000 did fall
in with the writings of those very Greeks, and read them awry, having no
concurrent light of their own? for their demigod, and camel-driver,
Mahound, impostor in science as in religion, had strictly forbidden them
anatomy even of the lower animals, the which he who severeth from
medicine, 'tollit solem e mundo,' as Tully quoth. Nay, wonder not at my
fervour, good youth. Where the general weal stands in jeopardy, a little
warmth is civic, humane, and honourable; now there is settled of late
in this town a pestilent Arabist, a mere empiric, who despising anatomy,
and scarce knowing Greek from Hebrew, hath yet spirited away half my
patients; and I tremble for the rest. Put forth thine ankle; and thou,
Hans, breathe on the chafer."
Whilst matters were in this posture, in came Denys with the lemons, and
stood surprised. "What sport is toward?" said he, raising his brows.
Gerard coloured a little and told him the learned doctor was going to
flebotomize him and cauterize him; that was all.
"Ay! indeed; and yon imp, what bloweth he hot coals for?"
"What should it be for," said the doctor to Gerard, "but to cauterize
the vein when opened, and the poisonous blood let free? 'Tis the only
safe way. Avicenna indeed recommends a ligature of the vein; but how
'tis to be done he saith not, nor knew he himself I wot, nor any of the
spawn of Ishmael. For me, I have no faith in such tricksy expedients:
and take this with you for a safe principle! 'whatever an Arab or
Arabist says is right, must be wrong.'"
"Oh, I see now what 'tis for," said Denys; "and art thou so simple as to
let him put hot iron to thy living flesh? didst ever keep thy little
finger but ten moments in a candle? and this will be as many minutes.
Art not content to burn in purgatory after thy death? must thou needs
buy a foretaste on't here?"
"I never thought of that," said Gerard gravely: "The good doctor spake
not of burning, but of cautery; to be sure 'tis all one, but cautery
sounds not so fearful as burning."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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