As I was thinking of her by myself I resolved to tell her of my discovery, hoping she would need my help in the introduction of the cylinder. I went to see her at ten o’clock, and found her, as usual, in bed; she was weeping because the opiate I gave her did not take effect. I thought the time a good one for introducing the aroph of Paracelsus, which I assured her was an infallible means of attaining the end she desired; but whilst I was singing the praises of this application the idea came into my head to say that, to be absolutely certain, it was necessary for the aroph to be mingled with semen which had not lost its natural heat. “This mixture,” said I, “moistening several times a day the opening of the womb, weakens it to such a degree that the foetus is expelled by its own weight.” To these details I added lengthy arguments to persuade her of the efficacy of this cure, and then, seeing that she was absorbed in thought, I said that as her lover was away she would want a sure friend to live in the same house with her, and give her the dose according to the directions of Paracelsus. All at once she burst into a peal of laughter, and asked me if I had been jesting all the time. I thought the game was up. The remedy was an absurd one, on the face of it; and if her common sense told her as much it would also make her guess my motive. But what limits are there to the credulity of a woman in her condition? “If you wish,” said I, persuasively, “I will give you the manuscript where all that I have said is set down plainly. I will also shew you what Boerhaeve thinks about it.” I saw that these words convinced her; they had acted on her as if by magic, and I went on while the iron was hot. “The aroph,” said I, “is the most powerful agent for bringing on menstruation.” “And that is incompatible with the state I am now in; so the aroph should procure me a secret deliverance. Do you know its composition?” “Certainly; it is quite a simple preparation composed of certain ingredients which are well known to me, and which have to be made into a paste with butter or virgin honey. But this composition must touch the orifice of the uterus at a moment of extreme excitement.” “But in that case it seems to me that the person who gives the dose must be in love.” “Certainly, unless he is a mere animal requiring only physical incentives.” She was silent for some time, for though she was quick-witted enough, a woman’s natural modesty and her own frankness, prevented her from guessing at my artifice. I, too, astonished at my success in making her believe this fable, remained silent. At last, breaking the silence, she said, sadly, “The method seems to me an excellent one, but I do not think I ought to make use of it.” Then she asked me if the aroph took much time to make. “Two hours at most,” I answered, “if I succeed in procuring English saffron, which Paracelsus prefers to the Oriental saffron.”