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After many and indescribable labors, vigils, expenses, and the continuous faithful exercise of preparations, I have at last brought all that was sought to the desired end, with God as my guide. Meanwhile, with a mind presaging nothing sinister, and expecting the due reward, I lament my fruitless labors. I sowed wheat: the enemy sowed tares in our field. Thus, I see that sadness is the companion of a deed well done. I have therefore brought this apologetic complaint into the light, a just (as I hope) and honest one. First, that I may clear myself of the crime of imposture. Next, that our industry, perfection, truth, and certain experience might be made manifest to all. I am not ignorant, indeed, that there are a few among the learned who do not mock this part of Philosophy. But the experience of practice corroborates the truth of Theory in every discipline. Therefore, I urge everyone not to rashly reject the most beautiful experience of things. You will never regret (O men most noble in blood and virtue) reading these things and knowing them to be true; we have wished to compress this whole business into a rather short discourse, so that a long-winded speech would not be a weariness to you. I do not expect to escape from malevolent and envious critics. But I do not care for them at all. It will be welcome to all (I fear nothing) that through the friendly providence of nature and art, the harsh languors of mortals can be kindly refreshed.
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Petrarch, Remedies for Fortune, book 1, dialogue 111.
The labors, expenses, and vigils of the Alchemists are not so much indescribable as they are useless, and I neither marvel at them nor pity them. It is little for these men to have erred, unless they add to error loss, to loss labor, and to labor shame—