CHAPTER VII

CARDAN, as he has himself related, arrived at Edinburgh on June 29, 1552.

The coming of such a man at such a time must have been an event of

extraordinary interest. In England the Italy of the Renaissance had been

in a measure realized by men of learning and intellect through the reports

of the numerous scholars--John Tiptoft, Earl of Worcester, Henry Parker,

Lord Morley, Howard Earl of Surrey, and Sir Thomas Wyat, may be taken as

examples--who had wandered thither and come back with a stock of histories

setting forth the beauty and charm, and also the terror and wickedness, of

that wonderful land. Some echoes of this legend had doubtless drifted down

to Scotland, and possibly still more may have been wafted over from

France. Ascham had taken up his parable in the _Schoolmaster_, describing

the devilish sins and corruptions of Italy, and now the good people of

Edinburgh were to be given the sight of a man coming thence, one who was

fabled to have gathered together more knowledge, both of this world and of

that other hidden one which was to them just as real, than any mortal man

alive. Under these circumstances it is not surprising that Cardan should

have been regarded rather as a magician than as a doctor, and in the

_Scotichronicon_[146] it is recorded that the Primate was cured of a

lingering asthma by the incantations of an astrologer named Cardan, from

Milan. Cardan in his narrative speaks of Edinburgh as the place where he

met his patient, and does not mention any other place of sojourn, but the

record just quoted goes on to say that he abode with the Primate for

eleven weeks at his country residence at Monimail, near Cupar, Fife, where

there is a well called to this day Cardan's Well.

Cardan, as it has been noticed already, refused to commit himself to any

opinion as to the character of the Archbishop's distemper over the

dinner-table where he and Cassanate had been entertained by the French

King's physicians. Cassanate had set forth his views in full as to the

nature of the asthma which had to be dealt with in his letter to Cardan,

and it is highly probable that he would again bring forward these views in

the hearing of the Paris doctors. It is certain that some of the French

physicians had, previous to this, prescribed a course of treatment for the

Archbishop, probably without seeing him, and that the course was being

tried when Cardan arrived in Edinburgh.[147] For the first six weeks of

his stay he watched the case, and let the treatment aforesaid go

on--whether it differed from that which Cassanate recommended or not there

is no evidence to show. But no good result came of it. The Archbishop

wasted in body and became fretful and disturbed in mind, and, at last,

Cardan was obliged to let his opinion of the case be known; and, as this

was entirely hostile to the treatment which was being pursued, the

inevitable quarrel between the doctors burst forth with great violence.

The Archbishop was irate with his ordinary medical attendant, probably the

physician who was left in charge during Cassanate's absence--and this man

retaliated upon Cardan for having thus stirred up strife. Cardan's

position was certainly a very uneasy one. The other physicians were full

of jealousy and malice, and the Archbishop began to accuse him of dilatory

conduct of the case, redoubling his complaints as soon as he found himself

getting better under the altered treatment. So weary did Cardan become of

this bickering that he begged leave to depart at once, but this

proposition the Primate took in very ill part.

Cassanate in his first diagnosis had traced the Archbishop's illness to an

excess of coldness and humidity in the brain. Now Cardan, on the other

hand, maintained that the brain was too hot. He found Cassanate's

treatment too closely fettered by his theory as to the causes of periodic

asthma, but he did not venture to exhibit his own course of treatment till

after he had gained some knowledge of the Archbishop's temper and habits.

He came to the conclusion that his patient was overwrought with the cares

of State, that he ate too freely, that he did not sleep enough, and that

he was of a temper somewhat choleric. Cardan set forth this view of the

case in a voluminous document, founding the course of treatment he

proposed to pursue upon the aphorisms of Galen. He altogether rejected

Cassanate's view as to the retention of the noxious humours in the head.

The Archbishop had the ruddy complexion of a man in good health, a

condition which could scarcely co-exist with the loading of the brain

with matter which would certainly putrify if retained for any long time.

Cardan maintained that the serous humour descended into the lungs, not by

the passages, but by soaking through the membranes as through linen.[148]

After describing the origin and the mode of descent of this humour, he

goes on to search for an auxiliary cause of the mischief, and this he

finds in the imperfect digestive powers of the stomach and liver. If the

cause lay entirely in the brain, how was it that all the cerebral

functions were not vitiated? In fine, the source of the disease lay, not

in the weakness of the brain, but in an access of heat, caused possibly by

exposure to the sun, by which the matter of the brain had become so

rarefied that it showed unhealthy activity in absorbing moisture from the

other parts. This heat, therefore, must be reduced.

To accomplish this end three lines of treatment must be followed. First, a

proper course of diet; second, drugs; and third, certain manual

operations. As to diet, the Archbishop was ordered to take nothing but

light and cooling food, two to four pints of asses' milk in the early

morning, drawn from an ass fed on cooling herbs, and to use all such foods

as had a fattening tendency; tortoise or turtle-soup,[149] distilled

snails, barley-water and chicken-broth, and divers other rich edibles. The

purging of the brain was a serious business; it was to be compassed by an

application to the coronal suture of an ointment made of Greek pitch,

ship's tar, white mustard, euphorbium, and honey of anathardus: the

compound to be sharpened, if necessary, by the addition of blister fly, or

rendered less searching by leaving out the euphorbium and mustard. Cardan

adds, that, by the use of this persuasive application, he had sometimes

brought out two pints of water in twenty-four hours. The use of the

shower-bath and plentiful rubbing with dry cloths was also recommended.

The purging of the body was largely a question of diet. To prevent

generation of moisture, perfumes were to be used; the patient was to sleep

on raw silk and not upon feathers, and to let an hour and a half come

between supper and bed-time. Sleep, after all, was the great thing to be

sought. The Archbishop was counselled to sleep from seven to ten hours,

and to subtract time from his studies and his business and add the same to

sleep.[150]

Cardan's treatment, which seems to have been suggested as much by the man

of common-sense as by the physician, soon began to tell favourably upon

the Archbishop. He remained for thirty-five days in charge of his patient,

during which time the distemper lost its virulence and the patient gained

flesh. In the meantime the fame of his skill had spread abroad, and

well-nigh the whole nobility of Scotland flocked to consult him,[151] and

they paid him so liberally that on one day he made nineteen golden crowns.

But when winter began to draw near, Cardan felt that it was time to move

southward. He feared the cold; he longed to get back to his sons, and he

was greatly troubled by the continued ill-behaviour of one of the servants

he had brought with him--"maledicus, invidus, avarissimus, Dei

contemptor;" but he found his patient very loth to let him depart. The

Archbishop declared that his illness was alleviated but not cured, and

only gave way unwillingly when Cardan brought forward arguments to show

what dangers and inconveniences he would incur through a longer stay.

Cardan had originally settled to return by way of Paris, but letters which

he received from his young kinsman, Gasparo Cardano, and from Ranconet,

led him to change his plans. The country was in a state of anarchy, the

roads being infested with thieves, and Gasparo himself had the bad fortune

to be taken by a gang of ruffians. In consequence of these things Cardan

determined to return by way of Flanders and the Empire.

It was not in reason that Cardan would quit Scotland and resign the care

of his patient without taking the stars into his counsel as to the future.

He cast the Archbishop's horoscope, and published it in the _Geniturarum

Exempla_. It was not a successful feat. In his forty-eighth year, _i.e._

in 1560, the astrologer declared that Hamilton would be in danger of

poison and of suffering from an affection of the heart. But the time of

the greatest peril seemed to lie between July 30 and September 21, 1554.

The stars gave no warning of the tragic fate which befell Archbishop

Hamilton in the not very distant future. For the succeeding six years he

governed the Church in Scotland with prudence and leniency, but in 1558 he

began a persecution of the reformers which kindled a religious strife,

highly embarrassing to the Catholic party then holding the reins of

power. His cruelties were borne in mind by the reformers when they got the

upper hand. In 1563 he was imprisoned for saying mass. In 1568 Mary, after

her escape from Loch Leven, gave the chief direction of her affairs into

the hands of the Archbishop, who was the bitter foe of the Regent Murray.

Murray having defeated the Queen's forces at Langside, Hamilton took

refuge in Dumbarton Castle, which was surprised and captured in 1571, when

the Archbishop was taken to Stirling and hanged. In the words of the

_Diurnal of Occurrants_: "as the bell struck six hours at even, he was

hangit at the mercat cross of Stirling upon a jebat."[152] His enemies

would not let him rest even there, for the next day, fixed to the tree,

were found the following verses:

"Cresce diu, felix arbor, semperque vireto

Frondibus ut nobis talia poma feras."

To return to Cardan. Having at last won from his patient leave to depart,

he set forth laden with rich gifts. In Scotland, Cardan found the most

generous paymasters he had ever met. In recording the niggard treatment

which he subsequently experienced at the hands of Brissac, the French

Viceroy, he contrasts it with the liberal rewards granted to him in what

must then have been the poorest of the European kingdoms;[153] and in the

Preface of the _De Astrorum Judiciis_ (Basel, 1554) he writes in

sympathetic and grateful terms of the kind usage he had met in the

North.[154] It must have been a severe disappointment to him that he was

unable to revisit Paris on his way home, for letters from his friend

Ranconet told him that a great number of illustrious men had proposed to

repair to Paris for the sake of meeting him; and many of the nobles of

France were anxious to consult him professionally, one of them offering a

fee of a thousand gold crowns. But Cardan was so terrified by the report

given by Gasparo of the state of France, that he made up his mind he would

on no account touch its frontiers on his homeward journey.

Before he quitted Scotland there had come to him letters from the English

Court entreating him to tarry there some days on his way home to Italy,

and give his opinion on the health of Edward VI., who was then slowly

recovering from an attack of smallpox and measles. The young King's

recovery was more apparent than real, for he was, in fact, slowly sinking

under the constitutional derangement which killed him a few months later.

Cardan could hardly refuse to comply with this request, nor is there any

evidence to show that he made this visit to London unwillingly. But he

soon found out that those about the Court were anxious to hear from him

something more than a statement of his opinion as to Edward's health. They

wanted, before all else, to learn what the stars had to say as to the

probable duration of the sovereign's life. During his stay in Scotland

Cardan would certainly have gained some intelligence of the existing

state of affairs at the English Court; how in the struggle for the custody

of the regal power, the Lord High Admiral and the Lord Protector, the

King's uncles, had lost their heads; and how the Duke of Northumberland,

the son of Dudley, the infamous minion of Henry VII. and the destroyer of

the ill-fated Seymours, had now gathered all the powers and dignities of

the kingdom into his own hands, and was waiting impatiently for the death

of Edward, an event which would enable him to control yet more completely

the supreme power, through the puppet queen whom he had ready at hand to

place upon the throne. An Italian of the sixteenth century, steeped in the

traditions of the bloody and insidious state-craft of Milan and the

Lombard cities, Cardan would naturally shrink from committing himself to

any such perilous utterance: all the more for the reason that he had

already formed an estimate of the English as a fierce and cruel people.

With his character as a magician to maintain he could scarcely keep entire

silence, so he wrote down for the satisfaction of his interrogators a

horoscope: a mere perfunctory piece of work, as we learn afterwards. He

begins by reciting the extraordinary nature of the King's birth, repeating

the legend that his mother was delivered of him by surgical aid, and only

lived a few hours afterwards; and declares that, in his opinion, it would

have been better had this boy never been born at all. "Nevertheless,

seeing that he had come into this world and been duly trained and

educated, it would be well for mankind were he to live long, for all the

graces waited upon him. Boy as he was, he was skilled in divers tongues,

Latin, English, and French, and not unversed in Greek, Italian, and

Spanish; he had likewise knowledge of dialectics, natural philosophy, and

music. His culture is the reflection of our mortal nature; his gravity

that of kingly majesty, and his disposition is worthy of so illustrious a

prince. Speaking generally, it was indeed a strange experience to realize

that this boy of so great talent and promise was being educated in the

knowledge of the affairs of men. I have not set forth his accomplishments,

tricked out with rhetoric so as to exceed the truth; of which, in sooth,

my relation falls short." Cardan next draws a figure of Edward's

horoscope, and devotes several pages to the customary jargon of

astrologers; and, under the heading "De animi qualitatibus," says: "There

was something portentous about this boy. He had learnt, as I heard, seven

languages, and certainly he knew thoroughly his own, French, and Latin. He

was skilled in Dialectic, and eager to be instructed in all subjects. When

I met him, he was in his fifteenth year, and he asked me (speaking Latin

no less perfectly and fluently than myself), 'What is contained in those

rare books of yours, _De rerum varietate_?' for I had dedicated these

manuscripts to his name.[155] Whereupon I began by pointing out to him

what I had written in the opening chapter on the cause of the comets which

others had sought so long in vain. He was curious to hear more of this

cause, so I went on to tell him that it was the collected light of the

wandering stars. 'Then,' said he, 'how is it, since the stars are set

going by various impulses, that this light is not scattered, or carried

along with the stars in their courses?' I replied: 'It does indeed move

with them, but at a speed vastly greater on account of the difference of

our point of view; as, for instance, when the prism is cast upon the wall

by the sun and the crystal, then the least motion of the crystal will

shift the position of the reflection to a great distance.' The King said:

'But how can this be done when no _subjectum_ is provided? for in the case

you quote the wall is the _subjectum_ to the reflection.' I replied: 'It

is a similar effect to that which we observe in the Milky Way, and in the

reflection of light when many candles are lighted in a mass; these always

produce a certain clear and lucent medium. _Itaque ex ungue leonem_.'

"This youth was the great hope of good and learned men everywhere, by

reason of his frankness and the gentleness of his manners. He began to

take an interest in the Arts before he understood them, and to understand

them before he had full occasion to use them. The production of such a

personality was an effort of humanity; and, should he be snatched away

before his time, not only England, but all the world must mourn his loss.

"When he was required to show the gravity of a king, he would appear to be

an old man. He played upon the lyre; he took interest in public affairs;

and was of a kingly mind, following thus the example of his father, who,

while he was over-careful to do right, managed to exhibit himself to the

world in an evil light. But the son was free from any suspicion of such a

charge, and his intelligence was brought to maturity by the study of

philosophy."

Cardan next makes an attempt to gauge the duration of the King's life, and

when it is considered that he was a skilled physician, and Edward a sickly

boy, fast sinking into a decline, it is to be feared that he let sincerity

give way to prudence when he proclaimed that, in his fifty-sixth year the

King would be troubled with divers illnesses. "Speaking generally of the

whole duration of his life he will be found to be steadfast, firm,

severe, chaste, intelligent, an observer of righteousness, patient under

trouble, mindful both of injuries and benefits, one demanding reverence

and seeking his own. He would lust as a man, but would suffer the curse of

impotence. He would be wise beyond measure, and thereby win the admiration

of the world; very prudent and high-minded; fortunate, and indeed a second

Solomon."

Edward VI. died on July 6, 1553, about six months after Cardan had

returned to Milan; and, before the publication of the _Geniturarum

Exempla_ in 1554, the author added to the King's horoscope a supplementary

note, explaining his conduct thereanent and shedding some light upon the

tortuous and sinister intrigues which at that time engaged the ingenuity

of the leaders about the English Court. Now that he was safe from the

consequences of giving offence, he wrote in terms much less guarded as to

the state of English affairs. It must be admitted that his calculations as

to the King's length of days, published after death, have no special value

as calculations; but his impressions of the probable drift of events in

England are interesting as the view of a foreigner upon English politics,

and moreover they exhibit in strong light the sinister designs of

Northumberland. Cardan records his belief that, in the fourth month of his

fifteenth year, the King had been in peril of his life from the plottings

of those immediately about him. On one occasion a particular disposition

of the sun and Mars denoted that he was in danger of plots woven by a

wicked minister, nay, there were threatenings even of poison.[156] He does

not shrink from affirming that this unfortunate boy met his death by the

treachery of those about him. As an apology for the horoscope he drew

when he was in England, he lays down the principle that it is inexpedient

to give opinions as to the duration of life in dealing with the horoscopes

of those in feeble health, unless you shall beforehand consult all the

directions and processes and ingresses of the ruling planets, "and if I

had not made this reservation in the prognostic I gave to the English

courtiers, they might justly have found fault with me."

He next remarks that he had spent much time in framing this

horoscope--albeit it was imperfect--according to his usual practice, and

that if he had gone on somewhat farther, and consulted the direction of

the sun and moon, the danger of death in which the King stood would

straightway have manifested itself. If he had still been distrustful as to

the directions aforesaid, and had gone on to observe the processes and

ingresses, the danger would have been made clear, but even then he would

not have dared to predict an early death to one in such high position: he

feared the treacheries and tumults and the transfer of power which must

ensue, and drew a picture of all the evils which might befall himself,

evils which he was in no mood to face. Where should he look for protection

amongst a strange people, who had little mercy upon one another and would

have still less for him, a foreigner, with their ruler a mere boy, who

could protect neither himself nor his guest? It might easily come about

that his return to Italy would be hindered; and, supposing the crisis to

come to the most favourable issue, what would he get in return for all

this danger and anxiety? He calls to mind the cases of two soothsayers who

were foolish enough to predict the deaths of princes, Ascletarion, and a

certain priest, who foretold the deaths of Domitian and Galeazzo Sforza;

and describes their fate, which was one he did not desire to call down

upon himself. Although his forecast as to Edward's future was incomplete

and unsatisfactory, he foresaw what was coming upon the kingdom from the

fact that all the powers thereof, the strong places, the treasury, the

legislature, and the fleet, were gathered into the hands of one man

(Northumberland). "And this man, forsooth, was one whose father[157] the

King's father had beheaded; one who had plunged into confusion all the

affairs of the realm; seeing that he had brought to the scaffold, one

after the other, the two maternal uncles of the King. Wherefore he was

driven on both by his evil disposition and by his dread of the future to

conspire against his sovereign's life. Now in such a season as this, when

all men held their tongues for fear (for he brought to trial whomsoever he

would), when he had gained over the greater part of the nobles to his side

by dividing amongst them the spoil of the Church; when he, the most bitter

foe of the King's title and dignity, had so contrived that his own will

was supreme in the business of the State, I became weary of the whole

affair; and, being filled with pity for the young King, proved to be a

better prophet on the score of my inborn common-sense, than through my

skill in Astrology. I took my departure straightway, conscious of some

evil hovering anigh, and full of tears."[158]

The above is Cardan's view of the machinations of the statesmen in high

places in the English Court during the last months of Edward's life.

Judged by the subsequent action of Northumberland it is in the main

correct; and, taking into consideration his associations and environment

during his stay in London, this view bears evident traces of independent

judgment. Sir John Cheke, the King's former preceptor, and afterwards

Professor of Greek at Cambridge, had received him with all the courtesy

due to a fellow-scholar, and probably introduced him at Court. Cheke was a

Chamberlain of the Exchequer, and just about this time was appointed Clerk

to the Privy Council, wherefore he must have been fully acquainted with

the aims and methods of the opposing factions about the Court. His

fellow-clerk, Cecil, was openly opposed to Northumberland's designs, and

prudently advanced a plea of ill health to excuse his absence from his

duties: but Cheke at this time was an avowed partisan of the Duke, and of

the policy which professed to secure the ascendency of the anti-Papal

party. Cardan, living in daily intercourse with Cheke, might reasonably

have taken up the point of view of his kind and genial friend; but no,--he

evidently rated Northumberland, from beginning to end, as a knave and a

traitor, and a murderer at least in will.

When he quitted England in the autumn of 1552 Cardan did not shake himself

entirely free from English associations. In an ill-starred moment he

determined to take back to Italy with him an English boy.[159] He was

windbound for several days at Dover, and the man with whom he lodged seems

to have offered to let him take his son, named William, aged twelve years,

back to Italy. Cardan was pleased with the boy's manner and appearance,

and at once consented; but the adventure proved a disastrous one. The boy

and his new protector could not exchange a word, and only managed to make

each other understand by signs, and that very imperfectly. The boy was

resolute to go on while Cardan wanted to be rid of him; but his conscience

would not allow him to send him home unless he should, of his own free

will, ask to be sent, and by way of giving William a distaste for the life

he had chosen, he records that he often beat him cruelly on the slightest

pretext. But the boy was not to be shaken off. He persisted in following

his venture to the end, and arrived in Cardan's train at Milan, where he

was allowed to go his own way. The only care for his training Cardan took

was to have him taught music. He chides the unhappy boy for his

indifference to learning and for his love of the company of other youths.

What with his literary work and the family troubles which so soon fell

upon him, Cardan's hands were certainly full; but, all allowance being

made, it is difficult to find a valid excuse for this neglect on his part.

William grew up to be a young man, and was finally apprenticed to a tailor

at Pavia, but his knavish master set him to work as a vinedresser,

suspecting that Cardan cared little what happened so long as the young man

was kept out of his sight. William seems to have been a merry,

good-tempered fellow; but his life was a short one, for he took fever, and

died in his twenty-second year.[160]

Besides chronicling this strange and somewhat pathetic incident, Cardan

sets down in the _Dialogus de Morte_ his general impressions of the

English people. Alluding to the fear of death, he remarks that the

English, so far as he has observed, were scarcely at all affected by it,

and he commends their wisdom, seeing that death is the last ill we have to

suffer, and is, moreover, inevitable. "And if an Englishman views his own

death with composure, he is even less disturbed over that of a friend or

kinsman: he will look forward to re-union in a future state of

immortality. People like these, who stand up thus readily to face death

and mourn not over their nearest ones, surely deserve sympathy, and this

boy (William) was sprung from the same race. In stature the English

resemble Italians, they are fairer in complexion, less ruddy, and broad in

the chest. There are some very tall men amongst them: they are gentle in

manner and friendly to travellers, but easily angered, and in this case

are much to be dreaded. They are brave in battle, but wanting in caution;

great eaters and drinkers, but in this respect the Germans exceed them,

and they are prone rather than prompt to lust. Some amongst them are

distinguished in talent, and of these Scotus and Suisset[161] may be given

as examples. They dress like Italians, and are always fain to declare that

they are more nearly allied to us than to any others, wherefore they try

specially to imitate us in habit and manners as closely as they can. They

are trustworthy, freehanded, and ambitious; but in speaking of bravery,

nothing can be more marvellous than the conduct of the Highland Scots,

who are wont to take with them, when they are led to execution, one

playing upon the pipes, who, as often as not, is condemned likewise, and

thus he leads the train dancing to death." Like as the English were to

Italians in other respects, Cardan was struck with the difference between

the two nations as soon as the islanders opened their mouths to speak. He

could not understand a single word, but stood amazed, deeming them to be

Italians who had lost their wits. "The tongue is curved upon the palate;

they turn about their words in the mouth, and make a hissing sound with

their teeth." He then goes on to say that all the time of his absence his

mind was full of thoughts of his own people in Italy, wherefore he sought

leave to return at once.

FOOTNOTES:

[146] _Scotichronicon_, vol. i. p. 286 [ed. G. F. S. Gordon, Glasgow,

1867]. Naudé, in his _Apologie pour les grands hommes soupçonnez_ de

Magie, writes: "Ceux qui recherchoiant les Mathématiques et les Sciences

les moins communes étoient soupçonnez d'être enchanteurs et

Magiciens."--p. 15.

[147] "Curam agebat Medicus ex constituto Medicorum Lutetianorum."--_De

Vita Propria_, ch. xl. p. 137. Cardan makes no direct mention of any other

physician in Scotland besides Cassanate; but the Archbishop would

certainly have a body physician in attendance during Cassanate's absence.

[148] "Per totam tunicam sicut in linteis."--_Opera_, tom. ix. p. 128.

[149] "Accipe testudinem maximam et illam incoque in aqua, donec

dissolvatur, deinde abjectis corticibus accipiantur caro, et ossa et

viscera omnia mundata."--_Opera_, tom. ix. p. 140.

[150] Another piece of advice runs as follows: "De venere certe non est

bona, neque utilis, ubi tamen contingat necessitas, debet uti ea inter

duos somnos, scilicet post mediam noctem, et melius est exercere eam ter

in sex diebus pro exemplo ut singulis duobus diebus semel, quam bis in una

die, etiam quod staret per decem dies."--_Opera_, tom. ix. p. 135.

[151] "Interim autem concurrebant multi, imo pené tota

nobilitas."--_Opera_, tom. l. p. 93.

[152] _Scotichronicon_, vol. i. p. 234. Larrey in his _History of England_

seems to have given currency to the legend that Cardan foretold the

Archbishop's death. "S'il en faut croire ce que l'Histoire nous dit de ce

fameux Astrologe, il donna une terrible preuve de sa science à

l'Archevêque qu'il avoit gueri, lorsque prenait congé de lire, il lui tint

ce discours: 'Qu'il avoit bien pu le guerir de sa maladie; mais qu'il

n'étoit pas en son pouvoir de changer sa destinée, ni d'empêcher qu'il ne

fût pendu.'"--Larrey, _Hist. d'Angleterre_, vol. ii. p. 711.

[153] _De Vita Propria_, ch. xxxii. p. 101.

[154] "Scotic[u=] nomen antea horruer[a=], eorum exemplo qui prius

coeperunt odisse quam cognoscere. Nunc cum ipsa gens per se humanissima

sit atque supra existimationem civilis, tu tamen tantum illi addis

ornamenti, ut longe nomine tuo jam nobilior evadat."--_De Astrorum

Judiciis_, p. 3.

[155] Cardan evidently carried the MS. with him, for he writes (_Opera_,

tom. i. p. 72): "Hoc fuit quod Regi Angliæ Edoardo sexto admodum

adolescenti dum redirem a Scotia ostendi."

[156] "Cumque ibi esset nodus eti[a=] venenum, quod utin[a=]

abfuerit."--_Geniturarum Exempla_, p. 411.

[157] Edmund Dudley, the infamous minister of Henry VII.

[158] _Geniturarum Exempla_, p. 412.

[159] In the prologue to _Dialogus de Morte_, Opera, tom. i. p. 673, he

gives a full account of this transaction. Of the boy himself he writes:

"hospes ostendit mihi filium nomine Guglielmum, ætatis annorum duodecim,

probum, scitulum, et parentibus obsequentem. Avus paternus nomine

Gregorius adhuc vivebat, et erat Ligur: pater Laurentius, familia nobili

Cataneorum."

[160] _Opera_, tom. i. p. 119. Cardan here calls him "Gulielmus _Lataneus_

Anglus adolescens mihi charissimus." In the _De Morte_, however, he speaks

of him as "ex familia Cataneorum" (see last page).

[161] Cardan writes (_De Subtilitate_, p. 444) that Suisset [Richard

Swineshead], who lived about 1350, was known as the Calculator; but

Kästner [_Gesch. der Math._ I. 50] maintains that the title Calculator

should be applied to the book rather than to the author, and hints that

this misapprehension on Cardan's part shows that he knew of Suisset only

by hearsay. The title of the copy of Suisset in the British Museum stands

"Subtilissimi Doctoris Anglici Suiset. Calculationes Liber," Padue [1485].

Brunet gives one, "Opus aureum calculationum," Pavia, 1498.

Jerome Cardan: A Biographical Study · 第 7 / 15 章