“The Sun himself is gold of purest ray; The herald, Mercury, serves for love and pay; Dame Venus has bewitched you all, for she, Early and late, looks on you lovingly; Chaste Luna has her whims, no two alike; Mars threatens you, although he may not strike, And Jupiter is still the splendid star. Saturn is great, though seeming small and far; As metal, him we don’t much venerate, Of value slight, though heavy in his weight. Now, when of Sol and Luna unions had,— Silver with gold,—then is the world made glad: All else, with them, is easy to attain,— Palaces, gardens, cheeks of rosy stain; And thus procures this highly learned man, Who that can do which none of us e’er can.” The astrologer here alludes to the seven principal metals, to which the early alchemists attached the names of seven planets. The Sun was gold, the Moon silver, Mercury quicksilver, Venus copper, Mars iron, Jupiter tin, and Saturn lead. In the same act, reference is made to an old tradition that is still believed in some parts of Germany. “Lo! at hand there Is ancient juice of strength divine. Yet trust to him who’s knowledge gotten, The wood o’ the staves has long been rotten, A cask of tartar holds the wine.” It is a general belief in the wine districts, that when a cask of wine has been kept for centuries, the crust of argol or crude cream of tartar which is gradually deposited, may acquire such a consistency as to hold the liquid when the staves have rotted away. The wine thus becomes its own cask, and preserves itself in a thick oily state. It is then said to possess wonderful medicinal virtues. Later on Mephistopheles is asked by a blonde beauty for a cure for her complexion. “One word, sir! Here you see a visage fair,— In sorry summer I another wear! There sprout a hundred brown and reddish freckles, And vex my lily skin with ugly speckles. A cure! “MEPHISTOPHELES. ’Tis pity! shining fair, yet smitten,— Spotted, when May comes, like a panther-kitten! Take frog’s spawn, tongues of toads, which contribute, Under the full moon deftly distillate, And when it wanes, apply the mixture: Next spring, the spots will be no more a fixture. “A BRUNETTE. To sponge upon you, what a crowd’s advancing! I beg a remedy: a frozen foot Annoys me much, in walking as in dancing; And awkwardly I manage to salute. “MEPHISTOPHELES. A gentle kick permit, then, from my foot! “THE BRUNETTE. Well,—that might happen when the two are lovers. “MEPHISTOPHELES. My kick a more important meaning covers; _Similia similibus_, when one is sick, The foot cures foot, each limb its hurt can palliate; Come near! Take heed! and pray you don’t retaliate!”