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Updated: May 28, 2025
If the dung succeeded, the doctor drew himself up, tossed his head, and exclaimed, "What Doctor Pomius orders always succeeds." But if the wretched patient slipped out of his hands into the other world, he shook his head and said, "There is an hour for every man to die; of course his had come physicians cannot work miracles."
However, no one suspected this, and a great crowd followed the poor fool up to the scaffold; even Doctor Pomius was there, and kept close up to the condemned. As the fool passed the ducal house, there was my lord seated at a window looking out, and the fool looked up, saying, "My gracious master, is this a fool's jest you are playing me, or is it earnest?"
Her Grace could hardly speak for joy when she heard these words; and she gave the earl, who had watched all the time by the bedside of the young Prince, so much ham and sausages from the ducal kitchen, that he finally could not walk, but was obliged to be drawn out of the town in a car. Then she asked Dr. Pomius how such a miracle could have been effected.
Pomius hated every other doctor in the town, and abused them so for their ignorance and stupidity, that finally her Grace believed that no one in the world knew anything but Doctor Pomius, and that a vast amount of profound knowledge was expressed, if he only put his finger to the end of his nose, as was his habit.
He was carried in a dead faint to his chamber, and the court physician, Doctor Pomius, instantly summoned. Following the celebrated rules laid down by Theophrastus Paracelsus, he cured everything with trash and asses' dung was his infallible panacea for all complaints. This pharmacopoeia was certainly extremely simple, easily obtained, and universal in its application.
One can easily imagine how the gracious lady screamed, so that all ran in from the Knight's Hall in their masks and mumming-dresses, to see indeed the mumming of the true bodily Satan; and Doctor Pomius, who was at the mask likewise, ran in with a smelling-bottle, but all was in vain.
Now the people screamed from horror, as much as before from mirth, and thirty or forty burghers, along with Marcus Bork, plunged in to rescue his Highness, whilst others tried to seize the fool, threatening to tear him in pieces. This was a joyful hearing to Doctor Pomius. He drew forth his knife "Would they not finish the knave at once? Here was a knife just ready."
To which the Duke answered, "You see it is earnest." Then answered the fool, "Well, if I must, I must; yet I crave one boon!" When the promise was granted, the knave, who could not give up his jesting even on the death-road, said, "Then make Doctor Pomius herewith to be fool in my place, for look how he is learning all my tricks from me sticking himself close up to my side."
Pomius offered his celebrated specific; he would take nothing, did nothing day or night but sigh and groan "Ah, Sidonia; ah, my beloved heart's bride, Sidonia, can it be possible? Adored Sidonia, my heart is breaking. Sidonia, Sidonia, can it be possible?" At last the idea struck Dr. Pomius that there must be magic and devil's work in it.
But the young lord would give no heed to her Grace, and spat out at the picture, and cried to take away the daub into the fire with it anywhere out of his sight. Unless his dear, his beautiful Sidonia came to tend him, he would die he felt that he was dying. So her Grace took counsel with old Ulrich, and Doctor Pomius, and the priest, what could be done now.
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