The Fault Lies Not With Our Stars

I’m not entirely sure what brought this story to mind (perhaps the stars are to blame in this case), but I remember once hearing a story about the seer Nostradamus, and how he had been commissioned to cast the horoscope of a young prince.  As I recall, some important birth data for the horoscope was unavailable, so Nostradamus said he needed to observe the patterns of moles on the prince’s body . . . everywhere on the prince’s body.  Not entirely unreasonably, the prince refused to strip down naked so a stranger could examine him, and considered that the end of the matter.  Unfortunately for the prince, his mother, the queen, knew her son slept naked, and gave Nostradamus permission to sneak into her son’s room while he slept and have a servant remove the bed covers for the examination, and thus the horoscope was cast after all.

Sadly though, the horoscope failed to include the warning that would have interested the young prince most; namely, “Your mother shall allow your naked body to be ogled by an old man while you sleep.”

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