The House of Doctor Dee

'Are you sick?' I asked him.

'Yes, and of an evil sickness.'

I started back in my chair, fearful of any contagion. 'What has invaded you?'

'Lacking of money.'

He laughed again, but not so loud as I. 'Oh, take heed of that, Mr Kelley. Lacking of money is a pain which there is nothing like. I know it well.'

'That is why I have come to see you, Doctor Dee.' I was mightily interested, yet I endeavoured to give no sign. 'There was a time,' he said, looking into the fire, 'and that time not many hundred years past, when miracles were the only discourse and delight of men. That is truly why I have come, sir. To tell you of a miracle.'

'And what miracle may that be?'

'There was a gentleman who died no more than two months ago, whose name and dwelling-place I could deliver —'

'Come now. Be not so coy.'

'Did you know of a certain Bernard Ripley?'

'His name and reputation were known to me. He was a very grave and learned antiquary.' I put my gown around me, to ward off the dampness. 'I have his chronicles in my library here, in which he has demonstrated that the isles of Albion and Ireland should be called Brutanicae and not Britanicae, after their noble discoverer and conqueror Brutus. It was Ripley, also, who in his chronology of this island proved that Arthur, the descendant of Brutus, was the first true king of Britain. I did not know that he was dead.'

'He died raving.'

'But how could that be? He was a man of good parts, and there is no work of his which is not very orderly and laboriously gathered together.'

'I believe, sir, that he dreamed too much of old times past. He could not rest until he had discovered all, and that was why he journeyed to Glastonbury.'

'If it were a sign of frenzy to journey there, then we must all be out of our wits. Its ruined abbey is the treasury of many famous and rare carcasses which, if they are secretly preserved (as many say), will bring glory once more to our nation. Edgar is buried there, and likewise Arthur in sorrowful and reverend state lies somewhere beneath the ruins.'

'And if they could be made to speak again? What then?'

'Then the secret of time might stand revealed.' I was looking into the fire, together with Kelley. 'Why do you question me thus?'

'This same Bernard Ripley, when he knew that he was dying, sent to Ferdinand Griffen and begged him to travel to Glastonbury where he would disclose to him a great matter. My master was always of a curious and froward disposition, as you know, and without more ado we were on our way to Ripley's lodgings in that town. He was staying in an old inn or hostel, not far from the ruined abbey itself, and there in the last stages of his disease he told us the history of his actions.'

'Which were?'

'That in his desire and thirst for knowledge he had consulted a conjuror in Salisbury. That the said conjuror often repeated to him that he could restore the dead to life and cause them to speak —'

'It is a diabolical pursuit, this questioning of the dead for the knowledge of future accidents.'

'Not of the future, Doctor Dee.'

'What, then?'

'Of the past.' He looked steadily at me now. 'I do not justify the ways of the conjuror or of Bernard Ripley but, believe me, Mr Griffen and I were only secondary actors in this horrid business.'

'And what was then the substance of this discourse? What was this great philosophical secret which Ripley imparted to you?'

'The Salisbury conjuror told him that, in questioning of the dead under the moon, he had learned of very ancient scrolls of written paper preserved somewhere within the ruins of the abbey; that in these papers were certain notes and peculiar marks relating to this island in ancient time, with various arithmetical rules and descriptions concerning the original city of London.'

'Oh, Mr Kelley, this is the mere idle tittle-tattle of some bankrupt magician more concerned with cozening a fee than in expounding a truth. Did he inform Mr Ripley how the dead spoke?'

'He said nothing of the black arts employed, as far as we can tell. Only that, when they began to speak, a strange meteor in the form of a cloud crossed over the sky: he said that this cloud was forked for a while and, though all the sky was clear about with fair starshine, it lasted as long as the dead did speak.'

'Prattle of a loose tongue, and no more. Did he calculate its degree of height, or how it lay over our zenith? I never listen to an astrologer who is not also a mathematician. I wonder that Mr Ripley swallowed such stuff.'

'Yet here is the strangest thing, Doctor Dee. These old papers, or parchments, were found by Bernard Ripley just in the place declared to him.'

I grew more attentive at that, yet I believe I kept a grave countenance. 'In what place was this?' I asked, all the time revolving in my mind the possibility of dead men acquainting the living with news.

'Near the foundations of the abbey, on the west side, was found a great stone hollowed after the fashion of the head of a man. Therein, when it was opened, were found such parchments as I have mentioned, together with a stone as clear as crystal.'

'This was a round stone?'

'In the shape of a tennis ball, yet not so big. And, as Bernard Ripley said, you might see in it most excellent secrets. He said also that it was some token from the lost and ancient city of London.'

'But who might believe all this without sure evidence?'

'Oh, sir, there was evidence enough. For indeed I saw.'

'You saw?'

'I was granted possession of the stone for a moment: I looked within it, and had sight in crystallo offered to me. Yes, I saw.'

'What did you see?'

'A cloud of brightness parted, and I glimpsed some ruinated place where all former trade and traffic were decayed. The light of the air above this place seemed somewhat dark, like evening or twilight.'

'Was there anything else you took notice of?'

'Nothing within the stone itself. I saw certain English words written upon the parchments discovered beside it, but I had no leisure to read them thoroughly. My master knew of them and, with constraints and difficulties, managed to pry them out. He mentioned such names as Sunsfor, Zosimos, Gohulim and Od.'

'Why,' I replied, in a sudden heat, 'I know those names. I know them very well, for they are contained in books which lie even in this chamber.' I sprang up from my chair and went over to the little table where I kept by me Humphrey Lhuyd his Breviary of Britain, and Historiae Britannicae Defensio by the very worthy John Price. These were only lately printed, yet already I had their matter by heart. 'The names are there in Lhuyd,' I said, on coming back to my chair with that book, 'as comprising the names of certain Druids who founded the city of London or, rather, built around the temples and houses of our ancient originals and giants. Did Ferdinand Griffen have an opportunity to study these parchments? Were they given to him for a time?'

'They were given to him for eternity, Doctor Dee.'

'How so?'

'Bernard Ripley, even as he lay dying, had called him to Glastonbury because he knew him to be a very excellent and faithful scholar. If he had sinned in employing the arts of a magician (he said), then he wished to confess his fault and be shrived by bequeathing these ancient and wonderful remains into the care of one who would publish them for the benefit of the living. So with many gracious and heartfelt words he left them with Ferdinand Griffen, even hours before his hard death.' Kelley rubbed his eyes, as if there were still a sight which he wished to blot out. 'Then, as I have told you, my very good and reverend master took a chill from the air of Glastonbury and died soon after. So it was that the stone and the papers were left in my sole care.'

'A thing almost incredible!' I had not meant to speak out loud, but the words burst forth.