The Alchemist's Daughter Read Online Free PDF Page A

her father at his work table, setting out an array of flasks and retorts. Hearing her step, he called out, “Sidonie, come and look, I am about to begin the process.” She set down her basket and went into the workroom. Her father’s face was flushed and damp from the heat of the crucible, his eyes alight with excitement.
    He said, without preamble, “Have I explained to you, Sidonie, how all things in nature strive to perfect themselves?”
    â€œMore than once,” said Sidonie. She settled herself on a bench, preparing to be lectured.
    â€œYou understand then, that as the worm becomes a butterfly, as the egg becomes a chicken, so does base metal strive to become gold. Our task is to assist the metal in its metamorphosis from the imperfect to the perfect.”
    â€œWhy, then,” asked Sidonie, who was in a contrary mood, “does the soup kettle insist on remaining pot-metal, when it could turn itself to gold and have a whole new career at court?”
    â€œWe speak of the Great Work, daughter. It is no subject for levity.” Simon Quince’s voice was gently reproving. Still, he chose to reply as though Sidonie had asked a serious question.
    â€œThe difficulty is this — that in order to accomplish the transmutation, an agent of change, an elixir, is needed. When this elixir touches any substance, no matter how base, it permeates it, and transforms it into its own golden nature.”
    â€œAnd what is this magical elixir?”
    â€œAh, but that is the great mystery, daughter. It is said to be made of fire and water; it is a stone but not a stone; it is unknown yet known to everyone; it is worthless and yet valuable beyond price. The alchemist Lully said that with this elixir, he could turn the very seas to gold.”
    â€œThen,” remarked Sidonie, “the Spanish could walk all the way to Plymouth, to the great confusion of Her Majesty’s navy.”
    She was sorry, as soon as the flippant words were out, but her father seemed not to have heard them.
    He said, “I have found, in the writings of the adepts, a formula for producing this elixir. Though the processes are cloaked in symbolism, I have managed to decipher them. Thus it is no longer a matter of trial and error, but a progression of steps one may follow to achieve one’s end.”
    Just what you said about the homunculus , thought Sidonie. But she wisely held her tongue.
    â€œRemember, daughter, these are secrets men have died for. I would not think to share them with any but my own flesh and blood. Do you take my meaning?”
    â€œI do,” said Sidonie, chastened.
    â€œSo then. One must first reduce one’s material to the prima materia , the First Matter, which is matter without properties, the possibility of all things. And then by means of many exacting processes, one releases from this First Matter the divine spark, the quintessence, which animates all things. Whoever can free this fifth element from the matter it inhabits, holds in his hands the secret of transformation.”
    â€œAnd has anyone succeeded in doing this?” asked Sidonie .
    â€œWhy daughter, there have been notable successes. Paracelsus himself possessed the elixir of transmutation. It is said that he heated a pound of mercury, and then dropped into the crucible a few grains of powder, which he called ‘the red lion’ because of its dark red colour. In half an hour he asked his assistant to look into the crucible and say what he saw there.‘I see a yellow substance,’ said the assistant. ‘It looks like gold’. ‘Yes,’ said Paracelsus. ‘That is what it is supposed to be.’”
    â€œI have heard,” said Sidonie, straight-faced, “that breathing mercury fumes can give one peculiar visions.”
    â€œThat may well be. But let me finish my story. Then Paracelsus said, ‘Take this gold and sell it to the goldsmith who lives above the