NATURE'S REMONSTRANCES TO THE WARRANTING ALCHEMIST

AUTHOR JEAN DE MEUNG

As nature complains, And expresses its pain and its complaints, To a stupid, sophistical blower

Who only uses mechanical art.IN PARIS Chez Guillaume Guillard, & Amaury Warancore, rue S. Jacques at the sign S. Barbe.

1561

How painful I am, Seeing myself thus unhappy, When I think of you, human race, Whom God formed with his hand, In his likeness, & true Image, For the perfection of his work, Which over every other creature, You disrupt so much Nature, Without using time & reason, In your actions as Lady Reason.

I speak to you, stupid without polish, Who tells you & calls you in practice Alchemist, & good philosopher: And you have knowledge, neither stuff, Neither theoretical, nor science In art, nor of me knowledge.

You break stills big beast, And burn coal which stubbornes you: You cook alums, salts, orpiments, And melt metals, burn attraments, You make large and small furnaces, Abusing various vessels.

Indeed I assure you that I am ashamed of your madness.

What's more, great pain I suffer For the smoke of your sulfur.

And by your hot fire, which burns people, You think you fix quick silver Which is volatile and vulgar, And not the one I make metal from.

Poor man, you are very mistaken: By this path you will do nothing, If you do not walk, others will not.

Badly you use my compasses: Badly you understand my artifice.

It would be better to do your job, Than to dissolve & distill Your drugs then freeze them By stills, & descensories, Cucurbites, distillatories, By pelicans, & matras: You will never stop it.

Then you do for your fixation, Reverberation fire, Even so very hot that everything melts.

So your works will be lost.

Finally lose others and yours.

You will never find anything there, If you do not enter my forge, Where I hammer & always forge Metals, in terrestrial mining: For there you will see the ways And the material of which I work.

Do not think that you will discover mine secret, which is so dear, If first you do not go and seek The germ of all metals, Of animals, & plants, Which are in my power held, And in the earth held.

One as to generation, And the other, by nutrition.

Metals, only have essence: Herbs have being & growth: Beasts have sensitivity, Which is more than vegetative: Metals, stone, & attraments I procreate elements: Two I make this mixture And first composition, Leans to the glass of the earth, Nor should they be quarre The herbs have express seeds, To preserve their species here: And the beasts bear seed, From which they generate their semblance.

In short, everyone does their duty well, Without deceiving me or disappointing me.

But you, a man full of vice, Enterprising in my office, You deviate from nature, More than any other creature.

Metals have no life, Nor any food To swarm & increase, Nor any power to vegetate: They have no generable seed: So do not generate their like.

They are created in the first instance From the elements, & their substance: From these parts I give birth to them.

Metals & stones only have to be.

All stones are frangible, And all metals are fusible: After their fusion, fixable Must be & well malleable.

Some by depuration Receive great perfection, Like fine gold, by my art gent, Which I purify, & fine silver: But others are more impure: For what the quicksilver have Too crude, & their earthly sulfur Too harsh .

If such a metal cannot be brought into purity: Because the matter has not merited such a good form: For all my facts so well I order, Let each its kind bring, According as the matter is healthy.

If I want to know where I recover Matter from this very first I work The cabinet of my secrets By tools, subtle discreet, And will look for my own material Next to mine: Which I take in guts Of my four royal elements, What is the primitive seed, Containing substantive form, In compound simplicity, Prepared & well disposed To transmute the four into a common general subgenre.

Give him, as I am benign, By my art metallic virtue, Of which pure impure metals are made, some soft, others hard. I have extracted it from the elements By my skies have thus portrayed it, Which for a long time I lead From the primary material Into the next & own material From which I make my mine: Then sulfur & quicksilver come out Which are converted into metals.

Not such quicksilver & sulfur That you see: never nor sulfur Because by contrary qualities Are transmuted & agitated Of their own into another nature.

Matter thus by rottenness, And suitable corruption, By means of deprivation, Which the first form kills, Then new one is clothed: And by the natural heat That matter holds within it Excited from all the heavens, With the graceful fire That I know how to make in my forge, Finally such that matter Is very susceptible and draws it.

Thus deprivation & form, And matter of which I inform you Are my ordered principles, Which were given to me from above: It is my master the creator Who commanded like an author Who of universal matter I made, like my ancestor, Transmute the four elements By my actions & regiments In a general form Of all mineral species.

If you know by my natural art Circumfer the beautiful sun In twenty-four hours the earth: Which never must nor err To excite by its movement Heat in each element: Also makes the eighth sphere, The seven planets, & their father , Who is the great first motive Which delights, so skillful, With him all the spheres: There should be no doubt about it.

His path is in the West: And the others, without accident, On the contrary, do all their courses.

If leads the long and the short, Like Saturn who his time And his perfect course in thirty years: Jupiter in twelve does it: And Mars in two years is perfect.

The beautiful Sun father of life Its satisfied circumference, Passing through one each signs Precisely one year assigned to it And six hours, for the whole account.

Venus, of which we make such a big deal, Puts three hundred and forty and nine days: And then Mercury takes its course In three hundred and thirty nine in total.

The Moon, next to man, Twenty and nine and a half remains To pass the twelve and some hours.

And thus by their various courses, Are caused, summers & winters, These elements mutations, And at low generation.

And never come, which is sensitive Or is visible or invisible Cannot be or take place Without me, without the heavens, & without God.

Thus are the heavens all things Which are enclosed under the Moon, And send their influence On matter in its power.

And matter forms appetite, Like woman man desires.

So many stars are placed in the sky, Under which matters are subject And subject, in various numbers.

Some are light, others dark: So many are innumerable, How admirable they are things.

Thus various things are, Yet of various courses they have Lassus in heaven has virtues Of species the individuals.

And know that they are not lost So many influences in no way When descend on the element Of the earth, posed that they are Invisible, and are not seen, And that before they fall on the earth Are so pressed and in such a greenhouse, That by force one and the other enter By penetrating to the center In such a very diverse way That they do within the mine Various generations, By various impressions, Without error & without any mistakes Obeying the low to the high.

If is the earth surrounded, From the heavens with which it is adorned, By receiving their influences And very pleasant substances.

Whose virtue everyone wants to put And penetrates to the center, And by movement and heat Vapors are generated in the earth, Also are the exhalations; Premium compositions.

The vapor is cold & humid, Even that remains & resides And is in retained earth: But if it comes into the open, Humid & hot could be.

The other, which remains terrestrial And which is enclosed & enclosed, For a period of time I dispose it In sulfur, which is its agent.

During the second mix of first composition.

The whole is taken from the mass Of the four elements that I amass, As I have already told you above: And for you I often speak of it, So that you do not deceive yourself, And in practice do not amuse yourself.

After putrefaction, Generation takes place, By heat, which is annexed Within the work already begun, Very friendly, without ardor, In order to heat the coldness Of quicksilver: which suffers so much That it is made one with its sulfur .

All in one vessel included, Fire, air & water, which I took into his earthly vessel, Which are all in a single furnace, I then cook, dissolved, & sublime, Without hammer, pincers, or file , Without coal, manure, bain-marie, And without blowing furnace.

For I have my celestial fire, Which excites the elemental According to the matter appetizing Form such as it is suitable for.

Thus my quicksilver I draw From the elements & their matter.

Then his sulfur follows him closely, Like all one, which on purpose gradually warms him up Slowly to his appetite.

Then, cold becomes virtuous hot, And dry, moist unctuous.

Now understood by hic & by hec, The humid is not without its dry, Nor the dry also in the humid: For one with the other resides Under a primitive essence, Which is in the elementative The spirit & quintessence, From which our child takes its birth.

The fire gives birth & nourishes it Inside the air: but first rots In the belly of the virgin earth: Then comes the water that we must seek, Which is the raw material From which I begin my mining.

Because a circumstantial opposite, Its opposite is very resistant, By strengthening itself, so Not until the agent prevails.

Then is passive transmuted, And from its destitute form, By the appetite of matter, Which always new form attracts.

From the first sky and great engine, Is my governing knowledge: My hands are the eighth sphere, As my father ordered: My hammers are the seven planets From which I forge such clear things.

The matter from which work is made, Stone, metals, trees, grass, Brute and reasonable beasts, What are very praiseworthy works, Generally all things, What are enclosed under the sky, I take it, and I do not lie, Only in four elements.

It is the primary matter, Chaos, hyle: it is the domain of which I make the King, And the Queen, and all her array enjoy.

The Knight is always ready And the chambermaid does the dressing.

And so much more noble is the form, And more nobly do I conform to it.

Know that I have all the power to substantiate all essences, and to make them consist, And form in exiter matter.

Now note well the three parts That the mass are parts That God made in the beginning: From the pure, first He created Cherub, Archangels, The Seraphim, & all the Angels: And from the less pure & second, He created the heavens & the round: And from the less pure third part, The elements & their nature He created: But the first fire Of virtue wanted first, And placed high under the Moon.

Corruption holds nothing in itself, but holds quintessence The purest share in power.

And then the very subtle air he made, And the quintessence put into it, Not so much as in fire: then he made water Which is a very beautiful visible Element: quintessence holds As much as it belongs: And then the earth wanted to make, In order to want to perfect: How much in a little moment He made each element , And the heavens & all nature, Who am the prime creature.

The large opaque earth made, Where everyone finds profit, Which contains within itself without doubt The slightest part of quintessence.

First were simple noted, In their elemental sphere such.

If the air is properly moist: Appropriately the fire helps it: And the water is properly cold, And appropriately moist, That the air it takes & fishes: The earth properly is dry, Appropriately cold it is That it takes on water: if it takes on the fire of its great dryness.

But, as I recited to you, Fire is noble and master over all And is the cause of giving birth, By its heat and giving life.

But I must tell you, That there is no active element, Which can act without the passive.

As fire acts in the air, So air on water reacts And as water acts in the air and on earth, When fire wants to stir up war.

Gold is mother earth & nurse of all things, & guardian.

What under the sky will rot, If it gives birth it will nourish.

What heat puts in his stomach And never ceases to the center Constantly to govern.

God wanted me to honor so much: Who gave me such power, That I do to the quintessence Reduce all the four rears: Then it is said to be raw material Mixed generally And by each each element.

By my art make reductions, From which generations come: But the species returned Are in the mass contained.

So that he who reduces wants The elements certainly he can In the primary matter, Without me, some labor & pain That he knew how to take had to kill himself: For in me is to transmute Their species & their elements.

If you say otherwise you are lying.

You cannot, as to substance, Appropriate your own influence, Nor in any way proportion The elements, or give them Form, according to merit.

It is I who form creature, And give matter & nature: I do by my celestial secrets Perfect & honest works.

Some of whom, seeing my oracles, judged them to be almost miracles.

As it appears in the elixir, From which so much good we see come out: Because the virtues & qualities It has, I have limited them: Nor ever any mechanical art Had not the knowledge or the practice, To have multiplications So very noble actions.

If the prudent and wise man must Consider that such a work, such a virtue, such a science cannot be, without the intelligence of the celestial bodies, in order to be guided, And without their power to lead: Otherwise it would be abused.

Who would without means use, Or would he take his influence, To infuse such a substance?

What would the mixture be, And the true proportion Of the elements? there is no sign, As Avicenna says well, In his De viribus cordis, To the second: here are his words: Let us live as long as we can, To hear such a work we will not know how to proportion the elements and mix them.

Thus it is said: well I remember: No man ever comes there.

It is a secret given to me, Which is not given to abandoned man: For by my virtues, often make the imperfect become perfect: Whether a metal or a human body, I perfect it & make everything healthy. I make temperance infuse, And the four symbolize: Opposites, I make agreement Where there is never discord.

It is the beautiful golden chain, Which I circulated decorated by my celestial virtues, And their substantial forms.

So much & so well I work there Let all my power be revealed, Even so noble & so perfect, That a man would not be made Without me, without my art & knowledge, Whatever good sense he knew how to have.

Come here, you, who says you know everything, And who intends to overcome My so notable knowledge, Saying, I will make drinkable gold By coal fire, bain-marie In my furnaces: Holy Mary.

I am amazed at your error: By your faith do you have no horror, Considering my works, And seeing such beverages cooked In your vessels & vials More hollow than are violated, Wasted time & expense?

I don't know what you're thinking My son: have pity on yourself I beg you, & think of me.

Hear carefully what I will say to you: For I will not lie about anything.

Look a little listen to gold, And you will see how gold, Which is so noble & precious, Has taken its beautiful form in heaven, And its good material in earth: If made the beautiful gem stone & stone, Like Rubies & Diamonds .

Everything is made from the four elements.

As for matter: & as for form, The sky informs the quality In the element already contained, By which the form has become Noble by depuration And for a long time in perfection.

And yet, such nobility, As of gold and other wealth, Is made by me, I am the worker: No man knows the way.

And, hearing it, if could not say how he would do it, nor what proportion to take of the elements, nor understand well how much fire, air, water and earth if is required, nor where to get them, nor mix well no opposite, No more than the substances extract: Nor give such influences That it suits such essences.

Only if doing wanted Iron, or lead, he would not know: Not the thing that is less: Never man knew how to achieve it.

How then will he make gold, Unless he steals my treasure?

This is not within the power of his art.

And if he says it, he's a rascal: I don't understand his mechanical art.

He must know my practice which is natural, in short, and which is not done by human hands.

Now therefore, if gold is so good And is made without coal fire, And if it is so noble held That out of all is the best come, And that everyone makes treasure of it, So much do humans esteem gold, However it does not cure metals, nor taint, Nor does it transmute Metals into perfection Of fine gold, nor is it so notable To make malleable glass, As does the very noble stone Of philosophers, which we must seek.

If it is gold, when it comes to metals, made by me the most noble and perfect.

So if you don't know how to make a little lead from me, or some small grain, or a single blade of some grass, or even less how to make iron, how do you want to warm yourself up to doing what is nobler?

And what do we make of ducat & noble?

And if you say, I don't make gold, but alchemy: I answer you, unscientific, that you are crazier than before.

Didn't you hear that I said that my secret is forbidden to you?

For what is done by nature, is not done by creature.

And what's more if the gold I made Of the seven metals the most perfect, What you cannot understand, How dare you undertake To want to do with your actions What the imperfect ones perfect, And in whom I have placed the power To transmute all the essence of metals, into good & fine gold, And what I hold as treasure The dearest that God has given me?

Now are you very disordered, If you only know & understand that this high good, to which you claim As that which touches creature, Is the great secret of nature, Whether in metal, stone, grass, or beast, Which descends from celestial virtue .

Well he loses: because he cures man of all ills, & nourishes: He perfects imperfect metals, By his virtues and haughty deeds That I put there through my great knowledge, And from the treasure of my possessions.

If it is therefore so perfect in itself That there is no one like it, tell me If it is only necessary that such a science Comes from high intelligence: Since no one knows how to make gold, Treasures, even incomparable?

This is an irreparable error.

For if you cannot carry ten And want to carry a hundred, I tell you That you are killing yourself heart and body In doing so, know your efforts.

My son is all my knowledge, My high knowledge, & my power, Which I take from the heavens simply, And the simple of the element: It is a primitive essence And quinte in the elementary, Which I make by reduction, By time & circulations Converting the bottom to the top, Cold & dry into humid & hot, By conserving stone & metal Under its radical humidity.

It is by the movement of the heavens: So many are noble & precious.

And know that the elements Have their governments from the heavens, Obeying, for convenience, Elemental to their influence.

And the purer my matter is, The greater am I by the heavens, a great worker.

Do you believe that I know your furnace, Where your earth and your water are placed, And that by your fire and heat, By your white or red color, You make me your pleasure, To achieve your desire?

Do you believe the heavens move And their influences have To infuse your drugs into them?

Do you think these are organs, which make every finger sing?

It's too much to believe in your heavyweight.

Don't you know that in the movement of the heavens there is an understanding, which has this low intelligence, and which, through its influence, makes all things exist.

I pray you want to know That high things from high places Proceed from me, from God: And believe only manual art Self so perfect as natural: Because its meaning is too naked and naked: If you counterfeit me like a monkey, Do you think that to distill, Or to dissolve, & freeze Of your matter in your vessel, Or to draw oil from water, Be that beautiful & clear path, May you follow my path?

My son, you are too deceived: For when your time has worn out To make all the mixtures, And separate the elements, Your oil, your water, & your earth.

Do you know why ? for your matter cannot sustain the heat of the fire for half an hour: so much is of little value: everything will go up in smoke, or will be consumed in fire.

But the material from which I work, Is infallible to all tests, Whatever burning fire it may be.

But from the fire all his good receives.

And if water comes from dry stump, Let nothing wet that it touches, Nor fly away, nor recede, Nor its oil ever burn: So many are my perfect elements.

So is not what you know: Also is it not your office, To handle my artifice.

To conclude, I say to you, If you are willing to note my words, I do not want to abuse you, That you cannot infuse, By your artificial fire, The great heat that comes from the sky: Nor by your water, oil & earth, You will not know how to acquire material Who can receive influence, To give it such substance.

It is a gift from God, given from heaven To the elements who are best preserved in the simple essence, Of which no one but me has knowledge, For the man who trusts in me, And who knows philosophy well.

My son, I will only say one word:

What the creator knows who takes me away is that the work is made entirely of a single, vile, homogeneous material, in a single well-closed vessel and in a single furnace.

In itself contains that which perfects it, And by only regime is done.

Now see the generation of man and his perfection, Where all my sense abandons it, And the knowledge that God gives me: For to know of a matter The human essence not whole.

I form the body only, Even so very subtly, That Plato, also Aristotle, never heard a note of it.

I make bones hard, teeth to chew, The livers soft, also the flesh, The nerves cold, the brain moist, The heart warm, where God puts life, The guts & all the veins, Arteries full of blood red.

In short, all from a single quicksilver, Masculine sulfur very agent, Make a single maternal vessel, Whose belly has the furnace.

It is true that man through his art Helps me a lot in ardent heat, By infusing in the matter The matter which is propitious: But nothing else I know how to do.

So it is your business:

For who knows how to choose material, Such that the work is desired, Well prepared in a very closed vessel, & inside its furnace, Everything provided, no longer differs.

For you and I must perfect: Provided that heat gives it, As philosophy commands.

Because there's everything: I'm warning you.

However, you have to aim for it: In fire, fire that we say epsesis, Pepsis, Pepansis, optesis (baking, Digestion, digestion, roasting).

Natural fire, unnatural, Unnatural, & without armor, Hot & dry fire, wet & cold, Think about it & do it skillfully.

Without matter & without your own fire, You will never enter into this game.

Matter I give it to you: I do not say substantial, Nor also accidental form: But form to make a vessel, And to form your furnace well.

Do by reason what is propitious, And by natural artifice.

Help me, and I will help you: As you do, I will do: As I did to my sons, From which they received the profits: Because, without vituperativeness, Have followed both mother and father, Obeying my orders.

As you can see in the novels of Jean de Meung who very much approves of me, And so much the sophists reproach: If Villeneuve, & Raymond Who made a notable sermon about it And Morien the good Roman, Who wisely put his hand to it: If Hermes was called father, To whom none compares: Geber subtle philosopher, Used my tool well, And wrote so many beautiful sayings, And others, I no longer say, Of this very noble science: Which have by experience Proved that art is true, And virtue great & praiseworthy.

So many good people have found it, Who have truly proven it Of which I am silent to summarize.

Now, my son, if you want to forge And begin such a noble work, At least in large quantities: It is enough that you are at liberty, And in a place which is favorable to you, Let no one know your artifice.

Prepare your material correctly, put in a powder magazine , in a single vessel with its water, well closed and inside your stove, through a regime well managed with a well-tempered heat, which will do the action: and cold the putrefaction: because for great frigidity Dryness would not be able to resist such an agent so much that quicksilver would not soon be, By ordered connection, Made a homogeneous subject Reduced to first material.

Be your whole intention To follow your mother nature: Let Reason be your food: Your guide be philosophy.

And if you do it I assure you You will have material & means To achieve this high good.

And something that costs very little You will work, but that you taste My principles. See how I work The third and quarter of the meteors: Learn physics, & see again The book of generation, The book of the sky & the world, Where matter is beautiful & world.

Because if you do not see & hear, Certainly, my son, you are wasting time.

And to know the manners better, You even need that of mining What did my kind son Albert, Who knew so much and was so expert That in his time he governed me, And of my deeds, well ordered: As it appears in this book.

Now therefore, if you are delivered, You will often read mines, And there of my secrets you will see that no stone is generated Only from the elements, by its kind.

Learn, learn to know me First than to call yourself master.

Follow me, who am mother nature Without whom there is no creature, Who can be, neither take essence, Vegetate, grow, Nor have sensitive soul Without sky & the elementative.

And to know such effects, It is convenient for you to carry it To study & work In philosophy & watch.

And if you know so much by its uses, That you know the virtues of the heavens, & their great actions: Of the elements the passions, And by what they are susceptible: Which are the convertible means: And which is the cause of rotting, And of to generate & to die: Of their essence, & substance: You will have knowledge of art.

How much is enough just to have a good understanding, Considering my works.

But not all clerics and wise men had this gift of God through their knowledge: But those of good conscience, who followed me with Reason, Have had it through a long season, having good patience, waiting for the time that I command.

So do what I tell you there, If you want to have the treasure That the true physicists, And ancient philosophers had.

It is the treasure & wealth, Of greater virtue & nobility Than the heavens down to earth, By art man could acquire.

It is a means between mercury And metal that I take as a cure: And through your art & my knowledge, Let us perfect such a noble possession.

It is the fine & good drinking gold, The humid notable radical: It is sovereign medicine, As Solomon designates it, In his very authentic book Let the ecclesiastic say: And there will find the title In the thirty-eighth chapter: God created it in the earth is taken: The prudent man does not take it away.

He put it in my secrets: How much less orators they are, And who believe themselves to be great doctors In very high Theology, Without low philosophy, Who are everywhere their laughing stock.

Doctors are despised, Who mock alchemy.

Alas, they don't know me and haven't made art like Avicenna, & Villeneuve, And several great physicists, Good, very old doctors.

Someone who is not wise doesn't care And who has not seen the passage That good doctors have passed.

The scoffers did not know enough To know such a root And such a praiseworthy medicine, Which cures all illness, And which there, never begs.

Happy is the person to whom God gives time and life to achieve this high good, even if it is ancient.

For Geber says, that old were The philosophers who had it, But nevertheless in their old days They enjoyed their loves.

And whoever possesses it, largesse Of all good, & great wealth.

Only one ounce & one grain Always rich, & always healthy.

Finally the creature dies, content with God and with Nature.

It's cordial medicine, And a more than aureal tincture.

It is the elixir, the water of life, And which all work is satisfied, It is quicksilver, sulfur & gold, Which is hidden in my treasure.

It's beautiful non-combustible oil, And fixed & fuse white salt.

It is the stone of the philosophers Which is made of my fabrics: Nor by any geniture Find this can only by nature And by the art of human knowledge Which he administers with his hand.

I tell you: I announce it to you, And boldly I pronounce it, That without me, who provides material, You will not do any complete work: And without you who serve & minister, I alone cannot do the work.

But through you and me, I assure you That you will have the work in a few hours.

Leave blowers, & sophistry, And their Diabolical works.

Leave the furnaces, various vessels Of these blowers, false & perverse: I pray to you first of all, Leave their dung heat: It is neither profitable nor good, No more than their coal fire.

Leaves metals & attraments: Transmutes the four elements Under a transmutable species, Which is the very notable matter designated By philosophers, And little appreciated by the ignorant.

Similar to gold is in substance, And unlike in essence.

The elements will convert, I hear that the lows you sublimate, And that the highs you make tiny.

You will therefore take this quicksilver Mixed in its very active sulfur, And will put everything in a single well-closed vessel in a single furnace, Which will be a third buried: Take care that it is not smoked: On a philosophical fire.

Do so and trust in me: Leave therefore all other species, I beg you my son, leave And do not take away this material From which the mining begins.

Don't tell yourself any more: but I swear to you, My God, that we must follow nature.

THE ALCHEMIST'S RESPONSE TO NATURE.

How gentle is the ashamed artist Is before nature on his knees Humbly asking for forgiveness And thanking her greatly.

THE ALCHEMIST

To very sweet mother Nature The most perfect creature That God created after the angels, I give you honor & praise I know & confess That you are mother & mistress Governance of the macrocosm, Which was created for microcosm.

The first world is called: And microcosm in Greek is man.

You were, so skillful are you, Placed high on the first mobile, That with your finger you move, And from foot to low transmute The elements, whether peace or war, To the center of the earth: And all by command Of your master: incessantly By making generation, And such great actions: By your other intelligences, Of the heavens, starry, & planets: Of which form things so clear that everyone must proclaim you Mother & Mistress, & love well.

I confess, my dear Lady, That nothing living lives without a soul, And what is and has essence, Comes from you and your power, I mean under the power given From God, which was ordered to you.

I know that you govern the whole mass, and displace the matter of the elements All under your commandments: For from them you take the matter, And from the heavens the first form: As much as the first is confused This matter, not divided, As long as it is qualified, And then by you specified: Gold takes substantial form, And then visible accidental.

Lady, you are so wise, that you do all your work by your celestial virtues, and your very factual forms, in such perfect and good order, that no living person could bite into it.

I see, honored Lady, that God has decorated you so much, that he has placed what they need in your hands for all humans .

Four degrees by you gave birth: Of which the first has nothing but being, What are stones & metals: The second are plants, Which have being, & vegetative: The third, if is sensitive: Like beasts, birds, fish, Which have three different ways: The quarter made in noble degree, Thus pleased him at his will Most perfect of all: it was the man, Who three degrees in him consumes: But more than you my dear Lady, Fit then when he gave him the soul, Beautiful & immortal substance, Adorned with intelligence, And without any dimensions, Not being subject to the passions Of our body, which is limited: But sensuality turns into evil and sin by the body, which is tainted with disordered voluptuousness, of which very often is condemned, if grace is not imparted to it, that God comes more in part for the nobility of this soul, than for the body.

Now therefore Lady, The great perfection of man is not of you: But so as you have said in truth, You do not forge humanity: But to the vessel which is human, Other than you, does not puts your hand, Which is the most perfect essence Of your work & great power.

Without lying it's to admire, When we want to consider As our bodies are diminished, And so very well organized: So much so that by an object Has the will, that when one wants One each of the members is moved: How much that will is not Of you, nor of your compass.

However, it is a great wonder that this body works for the soul as a subject: & such of being: But very often he is the master: Master he is not by his nobility, But by sin which wounds the soul.

Now therefore do not be astonished If this so well upholstered And held more perfect, it is man, Is contrary to such a noble form Like the soul: and which varies so much Against reason. Be married Only from your artifices, And not from our faults & vices.

Did you yourself not think, And often started again, Believing your work to be well done, That the end was counterfeit?

Is it lack of understanding: Or can't it be otherwise?

Lady be forgiven, If I am too abandoned To speak on your knowledge.

I take it into my conscience That this is not to blame you: But have no doubt, that it is bitter to me Because you took so much from me Or never learned anything.

Alas Lady I assure you That I am never an hour, Without thinking of this haughty good, Which by you I mean very well, Or better than did then That you make me the records And the reproaches of my faults, By declaring such lofty things Of this worthy & praiseworthy treasure.

Whether in my bed, or at my table, Constantly before my eyes I have this very precious good: And just think, in short, What material, & what form I must take to begin.

You have come to scold me And rebuke very bitterly: Because in no way do Like you, alas, dear Lady, You know that I have neither body nor soul Nor knowledge in me, to do this: I can only counterfeit you: And would not know how to do otherwise in this noble art, if you did not help me with the power of your knowledge and science.

But you say, and say you see, That it is not for man to know Your great secrets and haughty facts: How therefore will I carry the fact, And how can I not guide, If you do not want to help?

Then say that you must follow: I am willing: but by what book?

One says, take this and that: The other says, no, leave that.

Their words are diverse & oblique, And parabolic sentences.

Indeed, through them I see clearly that I will never know anything about it.

And yet to you I resort, Praying you give me help, And advise what I must do In this very great & rare affair.

This request, my dear Lady Who with good heart prays & demands, Say by your conscience, By following your knowledge, Who could descend into the earth, And inside the mining quarry And seek by subtle cure Of metals the perfect mercury, He found, in less that of gold, To keep it is like a treasure: But I doubt if we had it That a metal would be made of it: And believe that there is no man so wise, Who to make gold knows the usage: It is up to you to do such work: Experiment well discovers it, And your excellent knowledge, According to your said, speaking Of the native of man: We see the way, as Cold & humid mercury Appetites sulfur to its aid: It is a homogenous sperm, From which the creature is born After the work finished.

Now therefore, all examined, You take your own matter, Your own vessel, your own mine, Your own place, your own heat, To give & form & color, To swarm & give life, From which all things are satisfied.

You know, like a worker, The merit of matter, Because agent only takes action, Only in accordance with passion.

Subtly know how to mix Hot & cold, then disentangle From the dry the wet, & the opposite Know how to extract the quality, Transmuting the first form So that the light informs New form: because the object And by the subject power, Which always supports the substance In the act which was in power.

Now I have heard you say so much: But my speech cannot be enough to recite your sentences well: And if I had your great gallows, To surely support me, I would speak very properly.

For I have heard that you said, That the elixir, without doubt, Of the four elements begins, Opposite then make alliance: And dictate that the elements must be converted. Without lying, It is not the work of hands, Nor does it belong to the human art To convert the elements.

But who would know by documents As the earthly quality Can with the air take its being Symbolize with coldness, Who is to say in its opposite?

Because humor does not want to distract From the cold & humid element, However it has the best help From fire, by which All compost is ennobled. And remember that it is a natural work, which is black, white, then ruddy, where three colors are evident Corresponding to three elements : fire, water, and earth, and the air that knows how to obtain them.

Then you say, without any gloss, That it is made of a single thing, of a single vessel, of a substance, Because four are only one essence: Inside this one is in fact That which begins & which perfect: Nothing defective in its value, Except a little warmth, Which man administers by cure, Provoking what it provides, By your art & noble knowledge: And all that is necessary to have, In this alone matter Is in complete perfection, Who begins it & who makes it Who continues & perfects it.

It's just like that of a man, of a horse, of a grain, of an apple.

For in the sperm retained, Is the form of man contained, Bones, flesh, blood, nerves, hairs under the skin Are all in this little herd.

So from a grain or seed Each relates its semblance: From man comes man, from fruit, fruit, And from beast, beast follows: It is your order which does not break, Which is in your round vessel: You want, out of a laudable desire, for everyone to do their own thing. But such knowledge and great science, Proceeds from the wisdom of God, who wants this to be done, And gave you this fact in your hand.

Now do I know well that when the sperm Is enclosed within the closed vessel Of the woman, but it does not open That no longer must the man work there, Nor that he add or diminish Neither large nor small thing .

Then we must approach it, To open, or close, or touch: For within the vessel is enclosed everything that perfects to the end.

Then say that everything like this is made of stone, which pleases me so much, and that all that is needed is one material alone put into a powder keg, which contains air and water and heat in its vessel, and all that which is necessary To complete this noble affair, Never touch it again, it is necessary, Neither anything else nor fault, Only add A small fire to excite The heat, which is in the compost: Like the child, who is at rest In the matter warmly, So is the work properly.

Then say & give to understand, At least as I can understand, That in it is its perfection: And sine can its action End in such noble form, If human art does not conform to it: I mean human art by science Of philosophy & prudence, Which comes from the hands to prepare The matter, then separate The superfluous, & put into glass The compound & simple earth, Which is only one with its water, And then close the vessel well Above a very propitious furnace.

That's all about the artifice: Man cannot do anything else, And does and says what he wants: But when you are the worker, Enter the powder magazine, After the preparation, Do the dissolution , And the dry reduces to water, And leads to the air By celestial sublimation, So wise and good are you: Finally, all alone you do What perfect imperfect things.

And yet Madame Nature, You are prime genitor, When you make the mixtures Of all your four elements, Which are in essence, Of which no man has knowledge Fors you thus have heard it, And that will see in due time If God pleases you dear lady: I ​​leave the time & the term: Rest of the matter to have, And to hear well & know How is so noble & so good, And how such virtue gives So great & so perfect treasures That it perfects the imperfect.

Madam, I know well that gold Is the treasure of mining: However, it has form and matter That has such complete power To pass its perfection: Because it has such a great action To be able to perfect more than oneself, Whatever art that the man can do it.

And who would object to me That it would have to be decomposed And reduced to quicksilver, That one would be crazy & destitute Of good sense, & of good knowledge: Given that he cannot have gold, He being in his own essence, More virtue & great power.

What then does man think about experiencing: At least when we cannot find the whole, except what is there?

It's abuse. But here it is: For their fancy to produce They say that it is appropriate to reduce By their art & science behind This body as first material: But certainly, lady, I know well, Because so much good have you taught me, That reduction does not happen Of things you have done, In species, or individual, If it is not first corrupted.

Even after corruption there is no generation of a similar species, or is generated, unless it returns to this kind. And if I say more, that destroying gold Is not the way to build it: Nor will man ever know how to Remake gold when the aura is defeated.

I mean presupposed effects, which is a very difficult thing.

Science would need to be very subtle, So that we put it into a good powder But to believe in dissolving it so much that we will separate the mixtures that you make from the elements, In its first mixture, Certainly it is a question That no man will ever find And say whatever he wants.

For he endures cold and heat, Nor does he heat a strong fire: But so much more refines and refines, And well refined draws: So much is perfect in his nature.

And if there is a creature of the elements that is the closest, that does not have semen, sperm or seed where reduction takes place after putrefaction to return to its species: because its matter is too thick.

But dead gold, there its being died: Nor from it can any other metal or quicksilver be reborn For what people do not boast, And say, under this notable word, All things are like themselves.

This is poorly said about minerals: But it is true of plants, And sensitive ones really: Because they take nourishment And life, sow themselves & plant: Metals never feel anything, And are as great at first As they are in them at the last.

Elements take their being Through you in the earthly element, It is without sowing & without planting, Without cultivating nor without planting.

I know from your teaching, that we should practically not follow the sayings of the ancient, good, very good philosophers: but only the theoretical and speculative practical, which is true and essential, In which is real nature: For in this lies all essence And matter & substance.

Well I remember that one said to me, Who sophistically induced me That they considered me a great philosopher, That I needed for real material To take the beautiful quicksilver All raw, and be diligent To mix it with the gold: Because a treasure is made of the two, When they are well joined & coupled, Very well united & assembled, One by the other will be perfected: And said whoever does this, Will have the stone & the elixir.

But first it was necessary to go out And separate the elements And all the four mixtures: And, to purify them better, Each one apart from ratifying them It was necessary, and then to join them, And return the great to the lesser, And the subtle to the big put back: In doing so we would be good master, This said to make the Stone.

But now I know that he wanders By saying such fantasies Pearling only by deception.

Whose brains of such people Are indigent good knowledge: People deceive & are deceived: None of them, whether posh, Be a philosopher, or a Doctor, Nothing understands in such a brew.

Well I remember without a doubt, Madam, that you said That only God belongs, Who is the creator & holds All things under his hand, To create, as sovereign, Elements of all shapes: For it is he who produces nature.

I know how to mix by quantity The elements, the quality Justly proportion, Well conjoin & mix Elements & unite together Duly, as he sees fit.

And there is no man who can do this, Nor who knows how to say the opposite.

For he is the only creator, And of all good the conductor, Of ​​the world is a perfect thing That cannot be made without him.

And all the boasting Sophists, investigators of alchemy, are silent , who boast that they will pick and plant nothing:

Who make, by calcinations And by their sublimations And strange distillations, Steal the angels in smoke, Iniquitous coagulations, Sophistic freezings Believe in the people and in them too That they did it, and that it is like this, That separation is made Of the four elements & perfect Quicksilver & fine gold: And everything is nothing in the end.

For it is true that all things which are under the enclosed sky, Of the four elements made are, And just quantity they have In proportion, by nature, Mixed good, according to their construction: Not all united properly, But in virtue distinctly: Mainly the material Real & whole stone.

I hear, in quicksilver vermeil, And perfect body that we call sun, Are four and each Elements United inseparably, And mixed by notable means, Not by separable human art, Because all the good physicists and ancient philosophers Have written, & it is quite clear, that the element of fire and air are enclosed and held in a greenhouse, one in water and the other in earth: fire is enclosed well and beautifully: in earth, & the air within the water And cannot each element Show its virtue in any way, Except in water, or in earth: They are strong and make war together inseparably: No one can really separate them from this fence, except God and you, Mother Nature.

I can boldly affirm, And physically confirm: Because fire is harmful to us, Also the air is imperceptible: He who says that we can see them Apart, tends to disappoint us: Because by very notable arguments, Elements are inseparable: Pose that the sophists say And affirm & certify, That they separate from quicksilver, And from gold, which is beautiful and good, The elements, they are liars, Given the reasons of the good authors.

Because the element of fire & air, If so it is must exhale.

But they say that they retain them, And if they do not know that they become: Since the air cannot be seen, Nor the fire of any glimpse.

And if they have drawn it, as they say What they touch they improve, Which is an unnatural thing Of air and fire by righteousness.

Then, my lady, as you said, and which I know in writing, there is no one, so great a doctor, who can, apart from God the creator, know how much and exactly each element is needed in each physical supposit.

To you God gives practice.

No philosopher is so wise Who knew by practice & use Compose & mix The elements, nor order How much of Each Element is needed , to do well No Substance, or natural thing, Spiritual or corporeal.

Now therefore, if he wants to separate them, How can he repair And reunite this compost To make it a real supposit: Since he does not know the quantity Of the elements, & quality, Nor the world of union And perfect conjunction?

We must therefore not separate anything, Since we do not know how to repair it. Leave it to you, nature, Who understands art and craftsmanship And who knows how to arrange well And this Stone to compose, And mix well without separating the elements.

Enough washed, Madame tells you: By your words, I understand the range.

There is no need to separate the elements, nor to take care to unite and combine them: Since we cannot achieve such an art, And it is a secret given to you, and ordained by God.

The stone or the elixir, without doubt, Is made of you & perfect all Without separating the elements, But not without your instruments, Nor without the help of the wise man And who understands your work well.

But to properly note the note, Let's see what Aristotle says: Or the Physicist ends, The doctor begins.

Supposing for physicist The very learned naturian.

So the art of alchemy begins, Following nature & its science.

And all this is supposed And by Aristotle laid In his said & true writings Showing the secrets of nature: That a philosopher must understand, And the doctor must hear well.

And something else here does not intend To reach where you intend.

For the art of alchemy conducted Will be of a produced nature.

And, lest we be mistaken, All that which nature uses, Procreates, produces & engenders, Is the matter & proper gender Which belongs to alchemy.

You will know better than me my friend, My honored & dear Lady, What body and soul I want to serve.

Now know that three things does The art of alchemy: it perfects The metal, & vivifies it As experience verifies, And digests its spirit: In doing so, nothing perishes.

Secondly cooks the matter, Digesting in such a way, In some small vessel, That the body it converts With the spirit all into one, Without adding any body.

Why in this so notable art, Nothing new is capable of it.

Also if there is a mixture, Otherwise administration of the beautiful principles of nature, That for such a need they procure: For what it generates & leaves us, This is what art must take on a leash.

Thirdly & lately If proof that really Separation is not made Of the four elements in fact Of quick silver & the sun, Or gold which we call vermeil To make the perfect stone.

To think is foul error Against the noble art of alchemy And profound philosophy.

It is all true and without lying And without truth entertaining That every elemental thing Is powered by elements.

Now if they are well arranged, And for such a compound compound As nature has produced it, If we leave them, then the corrupt and corrupt One is destroyed, And the beautiful link completely broken, Which has all the elements And there are no more mixtures.

But to separate, done. Of the four elements is defeated.

Certainly it is not necessary, Nor should it be done, That the father who generates son Be defeated: we do not want to hear That in doing so he is destroyed: But it is enough that the Genetive spirit comes out with the sperm, That the matter of the woman Receives & keeps warmly: And such spirit, truly Is of the generative child, And of its members formative.

Avicenna mentions it, Speaking of generation.

So it is similarly Of fine gold, which is surely Of the Stone the pure fabric As the true philosopher says: It is the father who instructs us: Therefore it must not be destroyed: Neither corrupted nor separated Of its well adorned elements: But it is enough that the sun father, Spirant his spirit prosper, And that force & virtue influences By the spirit to the son flows In virtue, which is true stone Of the philosopher, taken in the ground: And by the spirit genitive Is formed the noun son.

Madam, through you I have known so much And glimpsed your secrets, That the art of alchemy is notable And very true science.

And if I say that it is vermilion gold And the true father, says Sun, From the stone & the elixir, From which so much treasure can emerge: Because it heats incere & fixes, Digests, & dyed by artifice, Without any diminution , Nor any corruption Of this gold, who is the Father Whose son greatly prospers.

Now it is therefore not possible for you, Neither necessary nor permissible, To undo the mixtures, Nor to separate the elements That nature has proportioned And so well joined & ordered In just & due quantity, Complexion, & quality, Quickly, inside & out , Similar to the perfect body of the Sun as has been said.

Which is sentence & true edict, If we ignore the science Of nature & knowledge Of mixtions & minglings, Of these four beautiful elements, We similarly ignore the separations of them.

By which it is very necessary To follow nature & to make And use its instruments As it does to the elements: Otherwise we would not be True imitators of its steps Without this administration In this same education Of the form of this stone, And means that must be sought: By which means we recover The instrument of which nature works In the mining by art gent, Which gives form to quicksilver.

To make on the contrary authors, Rather we would be destructive Of what nature composes, And which it generates and well disposes, By separating the mixtures: It is against your commandments, And a thing too detestable Towards you, so good and notable.

But we must without a doubt, Do as Aristotle says, The elements will convert, And what you seek will find.

So nature my mistress, You have shown me the address To lead me wisely: If thank you humbly.

I have learned so much good from you, That everything I have done is worth nothing.

I know that it is great madness, In the end loss & melancholy To have fun in these furnaces, In quicksilver, in strong waters, In vulgar dissolutions, In all mineral things, In fire of dung & coal: Because never there's nothing good.

For this I will be more and more attentive, according to your book, With all my power to follow you: For it is the path and the surest way that man sees: And I am quite certain that this art comes to us through you : but it's late: Not without cause: given the nobility, And the treasure, & the highness Of this great good & high oracle, Which is in you almost a miracle.

Now madam, as I understand, So that I do not waste time Under your banner and teaching, As your said teaches me, Before today rather than tomorrow I will put my hand to the work, Following your command: And will take very first The matter, with its agent, Which will be this beautiful quicksilver, And I will put it in the vessel Well closed, clean on a stove Surrounded by a fence: And then you, madame nature, Will do what you know how to do well, In order that your work perfects, that so much is occult & profound There is no one richer in the world.

If you thank you, madame, Of the body, & of the heart, & of the soul, When you were pleased to visit me, And of such a great good to inherit me: To which all my life Am bound, & despite desire I will follow your teachings, And will make that elements I will have this noble tincture, By means of God & you Nature.

This ends the whole answer That the artist made in great doubt Before Nature his mistress, Whose had very great wealth.