A Doctour of Phisik

after The Prologue, Canterbury Tales

We took a doctor with us on our way who understood the laws of surgery

much more than most. There wasn’t anyone with more than him to say on medicine.

He knew about the heavens and had learnt the precise timings and exact treatments

proscribed by the planets and stars. He’d read you your medical chart,

or horoscope, to find the What & Why of any illness – hot or cold, wet or dry –

where it was seated and what was its form: blood, or bile, melancholy or phlegm.

He was a master! He’d get to the core of what was up and proffer you the cure

toute suite – his peddlers of potions and balms were close at hand to grease each other’s palms.

He’d studied masters like Dioscorides and quoted freely from Hippocrates,

Haly, Averroes and Constantine. I think he was a vegetarian –

he ate small meals and only organic. He wasn’t spiritual, but wore a cloak

of red and blue taffeta trimmed with mink. I never once saw him buy a man a drink,

despite the wealth he’d totalled from the plague. ‘Gold’s good for the heart!’ was all he cared to say.