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the Countries of Pleasure being dirty to the Horse belly, but the Springreturns the year, and pleasure with its sweet season: so in our Work, thefirst Operations before blackness seem tedious, for thou wilt think therewill never be an end of it; so variety of colours brings delight in its dailyand hourly variety, even to perfect whiteness.Forth from the East into the South ascend,And set thee down there in a Chair of Fire,For there is Harvest, that is to say, an endOf all this Work after thine own desire,There shineth the Sun up in his Hemisphere.After the Eclipses in redness with glory,As King to reign over all metals and Mercury.Here thou mayst light and bait, and enjoy the glory of thy white Elixir, butdo not, for thou hadst better wait the end. Proceed then with a Fire a littlemore increased unto the Summer of South quarter, where after somecolours, as green, yellow, azure, and the like, thou shalt have a sparklingred, like unto the flaming Fire. Then thou art come indeed to thy harvest,and to the end of all thy Operations; for now thou beginnest by apparentcolours the uprising of the Sun, after it hath been so long beclouded andeclipsed; now hast thou mourned long enough, now the time is come thatthou shalt need no more to mourn, for the Bridegroom is now come forthout of his Chamber, and the Sun comes forth as a valiant Champion to wina prize: now is the time come in which that of the Poet is fulfilled;Ne te poeniteat faciem luligine pingi.Adferet haec Phoebi nigra favilla jubar.Now hath our King of peace attained his Kingdom, whose Government is,parcere subjectis & debellare superbos; for whatever is infected our Kingwill cure, what is lame he will heal, and what is rebellious he will suppressand subdue. Sic Reis ad exemplum totus componitur orbis.And one Glass must be done all this thing,Like to an Egg in shape, and closed well.Now all these our Operations, as the Philosopher saith, are done in oursecret Fire, hidden Furnace, and in one Vessel; for I thou thinkest to makeany of these Operations with thy hand, thou art in a certain of errour. OurVessel then, which for similitudes sake we call an Egg, must be so closedwhen our Materials are set in it, that the Spirits cannot possibly get out, northe Air get in, else our Work were spoiled.106