Cardenos. Then you are sure that man was——
Cleofas. A necromancer! And worse than that! Listen and judge, friend Cardenos! (He seats himself) One day I was riding my mule on the road leading to the bridge of San Martino. They called to me to examine a child which had been taken from the river apparently dead. “Have you,” I asked, dismounting, “suspended it by the feet in order to expel the water from the body? ‘Yes, lord’—And that has not resulted in resuscitation?—‘No, lord’—Then, there is nothing more to do. Good evening!”—And I passed on—The child was dead, was it not?
Cardenos and the Young Men. Yes!
Cleofas. Eight days later I re-passed the same place and whom do you think I saw playing on the rocks with a gang of ragamuffins?—Who?—My drowned child!
All. Oh!
Cleofas. Astounded, I questioned the child and found that after I left they had recourse to that quack, Abou-Abassa, who had breathed in the child’s mouth, made strange motions with its arms and succeeded in reanimating him after an hour and one half!—The magic was shown in the breathing and gestures and in this diabolical resurrection, which was an ignoble parody on the miracles in the Scriptures!
Cardenos. It is the same evidence.
Cleofas. The wretch is dead!—But, his daughter, who has been devoted to the works of the devil since her birth, interferes just as he did with the treatment of my patients: even with my own governor, Pétronille, whom I attended after fainting spells. I gave him hartshorn, which, you know, is the best cure for such illnesses, as is also the oil of ants and the salt of wood-lice—what is it they call this Olivera—whom they have given me for a colleague in the Tribunal?
Cardenos. The surgeon?
Cleofas. Yes, this ignoramus goes so far as to make sport of the inclusion of pearls and precious stones in our remedies; as if it were not proved every day that sapphires are the principal cures for ulcers, and emeralds infallible preventatives of pests!