Peregrine knew now that if he were not to learn all, at least he would not be deceived with falsehoods.
Leeuwenhoek placed the tablet on something like an easel, which he brought forward from a corner of the room, and both seating themselves before it, considered it for a time in silence. At length Leeuwenhoek began with much solemnity:
“You, perhaps, do not suspect that those lines, those characters on the table, which you are so attentively considering, are your own horoscope, drawn by myself, with mysterious astrologic art, under the favourable influence of the stars. How came you to such a presumptuous idea? what could make you wish to unravel the web of my fate, to read my destiny? so might you ask, my friend, and with perfect justice, if I were not able to show you my inward call thereto. I know not whether you have heard of the celebrated rabbi Isaac Ben Harravad. Among other profound knowledge he had the strange gift of reading by men’s faces whether the soul had previously inhabited another body, or whether it was to be considered quite fresh and new. I was yet very young when the rabbi died of an indigestion, brought on by eating of a dish highly seasoned with garlic. The Jews ran away with the body so quickly that the deceased had not time to collect and carry off all his knowledge, which the illness had scattered. Laughing heirs divided the property, but I had fished off that wonderful seer-gift, in the very moment that the Angel of Death had set his sword upon the rabbi’s breast. In this way the wonderful faculty has come to me, and I, like the rabbi Isaac Ben Harravad, can read in the faces of men, whether the soul has before occupied another body or not. Your brow, Mr. Tyss, when I saw it the first time, excited the strangest thoughts and doubts. I was certain of the previous existence of your soul long ago, and yet the form, prior to your present life, remained a perfect mystery. I was forced to have recourse to the stars, and draw your horoscope, to solve the difficulty.”
“Well!” exclaimed Peregrine, “And have you discovered anything, Mr. Leeuwenhoek?”
“Certainly!” replied Leeuwenhoek, assuming a still more solemn tone, “Certainly! I have discovered that the physical principle—which now animates the agreeable body of my very worthy friend, Mr. Peregrine Tyss—existed long ago, although only as a thought or consciousness of a shape. Look here; consider attentively the red point in the centre of the table. That is not only yourself, but the point is the form, of which your physical principle once could not be conscious. As a sparkling carbuncle, you then lay in a deep mine of the earth, but stretched over you, on the green surface of the ground, slept the beautiful Gamaheh, and her form also passed away in unconsciousness. Strange lines and foreign constellations cross your life from the point of time when the thought first put on a form, and became Mr. Peregrine Tyss. You are in possession of a talisman without knowing it, and this talisman is that very red carbuncle. It may be that King Sekakis wore it as a precious jewel in his crown, or perhaps—in some measure—was the carbuncle itself. Enough—you possess it now, but a certain event must take place if its slumbering power is to be awakened, and with this waking of the power of your talisman will be decided the fate of an unhappy creature, who hitherto has led a shadowy life between fear and changing hope. Alas! it was only a shadowy life that the sweet Gamaheh could gain by the profoundest magic, as the operative talisman was stolen from us. You alone have killed her, you alone can breathe fresh life into her, when the carbuncle glows again in your breast.”
“And can you,” interrupted Peregrine, “can you explain what that event is which is to awake the power of the talisman?”
The microscopist stared with open eyes at Peregrine, like a person who is suddenly surprised into confusion, and who does not know what to say. The thoughts ran thus: “If I had but held my tongue about the talisman which the unlucky rascal carries within him, and which gives him so much power over us that we must all dance to his pipe! And now I am to tell him the event on which depends the awaking the strength of his talisman! Shall I confess to him that I don’t know myself, that all my art fails to loosen the knot in which the lines meet? Nay, that when I consider the planetary centre of the horoscope, I feel most piteously, and my own learned head seems to me no better than a painted block for periwigs? Far from me be any such confession that would lower me, and put arms into his hands against myself. I will fasten something upon the idiot who fancies himself so wise—something that shall make his blood run cold, and take from him all farther inclination of teasing me.”
“My dearest sir,” said the Flea-tamer, putting on a very important face, “My dearest Mr. Tyss, don’t ask me to speak of this event. You know that the horoscope does indeed plainly and perfectly instruct us as to the existence of certain circumstances, but—such is the wisdom of Eternal Might—the event of threatening dangers always remains dark and doubtful. I esteem you too highly as an excellent kindhearted man to put you into disquiet and anxiety before the time, otherwise I should at least tell you so much: that the event which is to give you the consciousness of power, would in the same moment destroy your present form of being with the most horrible agonies of hell. But no! on that too I will be silent, and now not another word of the horoscope. Do not however fret yourself, although
