Sea Wormwood hath gotten as many names as virtues, (and perhaps one more) Seriphian, Santomeon, Belchion, Narbinense, Hantonicon, Misneule, and a matter of twenty more which I shall not blot paper withal. A papist got the toy by the end, and he called it Holy Wormwood; and in truth I am opinion, their giving so much holiness to herbs, is the reason there remains so little in themselves. The seed of this Wormwood is that which women usually give their children for the worms. Of all Wormwoods that grow here, this is the weakest, but Doctors commend it, and apothecaries sell it; the one must keep his credit, and the other get money, and that is the key of the work. The herb is good for something, because God made nothing in vain: Will you give me leave to weigh things in the balance of reason; Then thus: The seeds of the common Wormwood are far more prevalent than the seed of this, to expel worms in children, or people of ripe age; of both some are weak, some are strong. The Seriphian Wormwood is the weakest, and haply may prove to be fittest for the weak bodies, (for it is weak enough of all conscience.) Let such as are strong take the common Wormwood, for the others will do but little good. Again, near the sea many people live, and Seriphian grows near them, and therefore is more fitting for their bodies, because nourished by the same air; and this I had from Dr. Reason. In whose body Dr. Reason dwells not, dwells Dr. Madness, and he brings in his brethren, Dr. Ignorance, Dr. Folly, and Dr. Sickness, and these together make way for Death, and the latter end of that man is worse than the beginning. Pride was the cause of Adam’s fall; pride begat a daughter, I do not know the father of it, unless the devil, but she christened it, and called it Appetite, and sent her daughter to taste these wormwoods, who finding this the least bitter, made the squeamish wench extol it to the skies, though the virtues of it never reached the middle region of the air. Its due praise is this; It is weakest, therefore fittest for weak bodies, and fitter for those bodies that dwell near it, than those that dwell far from it; my reason is, the sea (those that live far from it, know when they come near it) casts not such a smell as the land doth. The tender mercies of God being over all his works, hath by his eternal Providence, planted Seriphian by the seaside, as a fit medicine for the bodies of those that live near it. Lastly, It is known to all that know any thing in the course of nature, that the liver delights in sweet things, if so, it abhors bitter; then if your liver be weak, it is none of the wisest courses to plague it with an enemy. If the liver be weak, a consumption follows; would you know the reason? It is this, A man’s flesh is repaired by blood, by a third concoction, which transmutes the blood into flesh, it is well I said, (concoction) say I, if I had said (boiling) every cook would have understood me. The liver makes blood, and if it be weakened that if it makes not enough, the flesh wastes; and why must flesh always be renewed? Because the eternal God, when he made the creation, made one part of it in continual dependency upon another; and why did he so? Because himself only is permanent; to teach us, That we should not fix our affections upon what is transitory, but what endures for ever. The result of this is, if the liver be weak, and cannot make blood enough, I would have said, Sanguify, if I had written only to scholars, the Seriphian, which is the weakest of Wormwoods, is better than the best. I have been critical enough, if not too much.
Place.] It grows familiarly in England, by the sea-side.
Descript.] It starts up out of the earth, with many round, woody, hairy stalks from one root. Its height is four feet, or three at least. The leaves in longitude are long, in latitude narrow, in colour white, in form hoary, in similitude like Southernwood, only broader and longer; in taste rather salt than bitter, because it grows so near the salt-water; at the joints, with the leaves toward the tops it bears little yellow flowers; the root lies deep, and is woody.
Common Wormwood I shall not describe, for every boy that can eat an egg knows it.
Roman Wormwood; and why Roman, seeing it grows familiarly in England? It may be so called, because it is good for a stinking breath, which the Romans cannot be very free from, maintaining so many bad houses by authority of his Holiness.
Descript.] The stalks are slender, and shorter than the common Wormwood by one foot at least; the leaves are more finely cut and divided than they are, but something smaller; both leaves and stalks are hoary, the flowers of a pale yellow colour; it is altogether like the common Wormwood, save only in bigness, for it is smaller; in taste, for it is not so bitter; in smell, for it is spicy.
Place.] It grows upon the tops of the mountains (it seems ’tis aspiring) there ’tis natural, but usually nursed up in gardens for the use of the apothecaries in London.
Time.] All Wormwoods usually flower in August, a little sooner or later.
Government and virtues.] Will you give me leave to be critical a little? I must take leave. Wormwood is an herb of Mars, and if Pontanus say otherwise, he is beside the bridge; I prove it thus: What delights in martial places, is a martial herb; but Wormwood delights in martial places (for about forges and iron works you may gather a cart-load of it,) ergo, it is a martial herb. It is hot and dry in the first degree, viz. just as hot as your blood, and no hotter. It remedies the evils choler can inflict on the body of man by sympathy. It helps the evils Venus and the wanton Boy produce, by antipathy; and it doth something else besides. It cleanses the body of choler (who dares say Mars doth no good?) It provokes urine, helps surfeits, or swellings in the belly; it causes appetite to meat, because Mars rules the attractive faculty in man: The sun never shone upon a better herb for the yellow jaundice than this; Why should men cry out so much upon Mars for an infortunate, (or Saturn either?) Did God make creatures to do the creation a mischief? This herb testifies, that Mars is willing to cure all diseases he causes; the truth is, Mars loves no cowards, nor Saturn fools, nor I neither. Take of the flowers of Wormwood, Rosemary, and Black Thorn, of each a like quantity, half that quantity of saffron; boil this in Rhenish wine, but put it not in saffron till it is almost boiled; This is the way to keep a man’s body in health, appointed by Camerarius, in his book intitled Hortus Medicus, and it is a good one too. Besides all this, Wormwood provokes the terms. I would willingly teach astrologers, and make them physicians (if I knew how) for they are most fitting for the calling; if you will not believe me, ask Dr. Hippocrates, and Dr. Galen, a couple of gentlemen that our college of physicians keep to vapour with, not to follow. In this our herb, I shall give the pattern of a ruler, the sons of art rough cast, yet as near the truth as the men of Benjamin could throw a stone: Whereby, my brethren, the astrologers may know by a penny how a shilling is coined: As for the college of physicians, they are too stately to college or too proud to continue. They say a mouse is under the dominion of the Moon, and that is the reason they feed in the night; the house of the Moon is Cancer; rats are of the same nature with mice, but they are a little bigger; Mars receives his fall in Cancer, ergo, Wormwood being an herb of Mars, is a present remedy for the biting of rats and mice. Mushrooms (I cannot give them the title of Herba, Frutex, or Arbor) are under the dominion of Saturn, (and take one time with another, they do as much harm as good;) if any have poisoned himself by eating them, Wormwood, an herb of Mars, cures him, because Mars is exalted in Capricorn, the house of Saturn, and this it doth by sympathy, as it did the other by antipathy. Wheals, pushes, black and blue spots, coming either by bruises or beatings. Wormwood, an herb of Mars, helps, because Mars, (as bad you love him, and as you hate him) will not break your head, but he will give you a plaister. If he do but teach you to know yourselves, his courtesy is greater than his discourtesy. The greatest antipathy between the planets, is between Mars and Venus: one is hot, the other cold; one diurnal, the other nocturnal; one dry, the other moist; their houses are opposite, one masculine, the other feminine; one public, the other private; one is valiant, the other effeminate; one loves the light, the other hates it; one loves the field, the other sheets; then the throat is under Venus, the quinsy lies in the throat, and is an inflammation there; Venus rules the throat, (it being under Taurus her sign.) Mars eradicates all diseases in the throat by his herbs (for wormwood is one) and sends them to Egypt on an errand never to return more, this done by antipathy. The eyes are under the Luminaries; the right eye of a man, and the left eye of a woman the Sun claims dominion over: the left eye of a man, and the right eye of a woman, are privileges of the Moon, Wormwood, an herb of Mars cures both; what belongs to the Sun by sympathy, because he is exalted in his house; but what belongs to the Moon by antipathy, because he hath his fall in hers. Suppose a man be bitten or stung by a martial creature, imagine a wasp, a hornet, a scorpion, Wormwood, an herb of Mars, gives you a present cure; that Mars, choleric as he is, hath learned that patience, to pass by your evil speeches of him, and tells you by my pen, That he gives you no affliction, but he gives you a cure; you need not run to Apollo, nor Æsculapius; and if he was so choleric as you make him to be, he would have drawn his sword for anger, to see the ill conditions of these people that can spy his vices, and not his virtues. The eternal God, when he made Mars, made him for public good, and the sons of men shall know it in the latter end of the world. Et cælum Mars solus babet. You say Mars is a destroyer; mix a little Wormwood, an herb of Mars, with your ink, neither rats nor mice touch the paper written with it, and then Mars is a preserver. Astrologers think Mars causes scabs and itch, and the virgins are angry with him, because wanton Venus told them he deforms their skins; but, quoth Mars, my only desire is, they should know themselves; my herb Wormwood will restore them to the beauty they formerly had, and in that I will not come an inch behind my opposite, Venus: for which doth the greatest evil, he that takes away an innate beauty, and when he has done, knows how to restore it again? or she that teaches a company of wanton lasses to paint their faces? If Mars be in a Virgin, in the nativity, they say he causes the cholic (it is well God hath set some body to pull down the pride of man.) He in the Virgin troubles none with the cholic, but them that know not themselves (for who knows himself, may easily know all the world.) Wormwood, an herb of Mars, is a present cure for it; and whether it be most like a Christian to love him for his good, or hate him for his evil, judge ye. I had almost forgotten, that charity thinks no evil. I was once in the Tower and viewed the wardrobe, and there was a great many fine clothes: (I can give them no other title, for I was never either linen or woolen draper) yet as brave as they looked, my opinion was that the moths might consume them; moths are under the dominion of Mars; this herb Wormwood being laid among cloaths, will make a moth scorn to meddle with the cloaths, as much as a lion scorns to meddle with a mouse, or an eagle with a fly. You say Mars is angry, and it is true enough he is angry with many countrymen, for being such fools to be led by the noses by the college of physicians, as they lead bears to Paris garden. Melancholy men cannot endure to be wronged in point of good fame, and that doth sorely trouble old Saturn, because they call him the greatest infortunate; in the body of man he rules the spleen, (and that makes covetous man so splenetic) the poor old man lies crying out of his left side. Father Saturn’s angry, Mars comes to him; Come, brother, I confess thou art evil spoken of, and so am I; thou knowest I have my exaltation in thy house, I give him an herb of mine, Wormwood, to cure the old man: Saturn consented, but spoke little, and so Mars cured him by sympathy. When Mars was free from war, (for he loves to be fighting, and is the best friend a soldier hath) I say, when Mars was free from war, he called a council of war in his own brain, to know how he should do poor sinful man good, desiring to forget his abuses in being called an infortunate. He musters up his own forces, and places them in battalia. Oh! quoth he, why do I hurt a poor silly man or woman? His angel answers him, It is because they have offended their God, (Look back to Adam:) Well, says Mars, though they speak evil of me, I will do good to them; Death’s cold, my herb shall heat them: they are full of ill humours (else they would never have spoken ill of me;) my herb shall cleanse them, and dry them; they are poor weak creatures, my herb shall strengthen them; they are dull witted, my herb shall fortify their apprehensions; and yet among astrologers all this does not deserve a good word: Oh the patience of Mars!
Felix qui potuit rerum cognoscere caucas,