There is a story related by this accomplished scholar, in a collection
of aphorisms and anecdotes entitled _Mensa Philosophica_, which
deserves to be cited as illustrating the ideas then current on the
subject of sorcery. A certain great necromancer, or nigromancer, had
once a pupil of considerable rank, who professed himself extremely
desirous for once to have the gratification of believing himself an
emperor. The necromancer, tired with his importunities, at length
assented to his prayer. He took measures accordingly, and by his
potent art caused his scholar to believe that one province and dignity
fell to him after another, till at length his utmost desires became
satisfied. The magician however appeared to be still at his elbow; and
one day, when the scholar was in the highest exultation at his good
fortune, the master humbly requested him to bestow upon him some
landed possession, as a reward for the extraordinary benefit he had
conferred. The imaginary emperor cast upon the necromancer a glance of
the utmost disdain and contempt. "Who are you?" said he, "I really
have not the smallest acquaintance with you." "I am he," replied the
magician, with withering severity of countenance and tone, "that gave
you all these things, and will take them away." And, saying this, the
illusion with which the poor scholar had been inebriated, immediately
vanished; and he became what he had before been, and no more.
The story thus briefly told by Michael Scot, afterwards passed through
many hands, and was greatly dilated. In its last form by the abbé
Blanchet, it constituted the well known and agreeable tale of the dean
of Badajoz. This reverend divine comes to a sorcerer, and intreats a
specimen of his art. The magician replies that he had met with so many
specimens of ingratitude, that he was resolved to be deluded no more.
The dean persists, and at length overcomes the reluctance of the
master. He invites his guest into the parlour, and orders his cook to
put two partridges to the fire, for that the dean of Badajoz will sup
with him. Presently he begins his incantations; and the dean becomes
in imagination by turns a bishop, a cardinal, and a pope. The magician
then claims his reward. Meanwhile the dean, inflated with his supposed
elevation, turns to his benefactor, and says, "I have learned with
grief that, under pretence of secret science, you correspond with the
prince of darkness. I command you to repent and abjure; and in the
mean time I order you to quit the territory of the church in three
days, under pain of being delivered to the secular arm, and the rigour
of the flames." The sorcerer, having been thus treated, presently
dissolves the incantation, and calls aloud to his cook, "Put down but
one partridge, the dean of Badajoz does not sup with me to-night."