ABSTRACT
Now the hardy tanner had an artful and knowing brother. He came in hot haste, in his sleeve a little dog’s dung, clove his way through the crowd and arrived in great emotion.
‘I know the source of his sickness,’ he cried. ‘When you know the cause, the cure is clear. It’s only when the cause is unknown that it ’ s difficult to cure the disease; then there are a hundred possibilities. Once you’ve discovered the cause
the rest is plain sailing; knowing the cause is a fine ridder of ignorance. Inside his brain and veins,’ he added to himself, ‘the stench of that dog’s dung is inextricably impregnated. Drowned in his tanning job, he’s up to the waist in filth from morn to night, seeking his livelihood. What did the great Galen say? “ Give the patient whatever he’s been used to. It’s through going against his habit that he’s fallen sick; therefore seek the cure for his sickness in what he’s been accustomed t o / ’ From always humping dung he’s become just like a dung-beetle; sniffing rose-water makes a dungbeetle faint. The cure for his illness is that same dog’s dung to which he’s accustomed and habituated.’
