Ab. He maketh magic. He hath a devil’s wheel and he hath blasphemed saying he knoweth how many times the spoke of a wheel goeth to make the rim, thus meddling with matters abhorred. More, he saith the world be a ball, an floateth on nothing, the which we know to be a foul lie, seeing the Fathers have taught it be flat and standing on the foundations with Hell beneath.
Hild. (To Wiz.) Be this true?
Wiz. Yea, I am Magister, know all, cure all.
Hild. Canst thou cure disease?
Wiz. What wouldst thou have? Hast thou a flux, a frenzy, an evil eye, a gnawing of the tooth, a rheum, a discord, a gravel, a dysentry, a dropsy, a nightmare, an I can cure thee? The heart of a hen, the eye of a dragon, the tooth of a snake, the nose of a beetle caught twixt dusk and sunrise, all be a preventative agenst mala, medicanta. Yea, for all frenzies, camel’s brain an gall, rennet of seal, spittle of crocodile, an blood of turtle, taken with much prayer be certain remedies.
Hild. Indeed, of a verity, man thou art much accursed with knowledge.
Wiz. Ha, ha. Wouldst try me?
Hild. Nay, I be well, and thou sayest this earth be a sphere?
Wiz. Yea, ’tis truth. See here.