From thence, we proceeded along a broad aisle, which terminated at an elevated pavilion, the apartment of the astrologers and magicians. I met at the door a chiromancer, who desired to inspect my hand. I extended it without ceremony; but scarcely had I touched his, before I was glad to withdraw it, it seemed so hot and fiery.
“I have remarked at a glance,” said he, “that you will be happy if you are prudent.”
“And you,” said I, “what have you noticed with regard to your own?”
“I knew,” replied he, “by the mount of Saturn, that I was to be damned.”
“Ah, well! if you had exercised the prudence you recommend to me, you would not have been here.”
I passed without further speech, and saw a man, who, with compasses, measured upon a globe, the distances between the celestial signs: “what are you doing, good man?” said I.
“Ah, God!” replied he, “if I had been born but half an hour sooner, when Saturn changed his aspect, and Mars lodged in the house of life, my salvation had been certain.”
The others made similar observations, so that one could hardly forbear laughing at their complaints. There came up one named Taisnerius, author of a book upon physiognomy and chiromancy, who gazed in my face for such a length of time, that he quite embarrassed me.
“You look like an old burnt shoe,” said I to him; “go your ways; do not stop so near me.”
“Look at this beggar,” said he; “see how he affects the man of consequence, because he wears a sword by his side, and hath the cross of Saint James! What a physiognomy! What an aspect! What a figure! This man goes straight to the gibbet: besides, there is here neither wealth nor rank; all are equal.”