The Renaissance and humanism epoch brought about tremendous advancements in the natural sciences: ever more sophisticated measuring and observation instruments enabled the more accurate detection and description of reality, while the invention of printing led to the rapid dissemination of information, and the accumulation of knowledge led to optimism that all the questions asked by mankind would be answered in the near future. Yet this knowledge was not to be accessible to everyone, but only to an exclusive group of initiates. Across Europe, a group of magicians, astrologers and astronomers formed, touring the courts of their patrons, wealthy princes likewise enamoured of the desire for knowledge which could increase their power. The generosity of Emperor Rudolf II, a great patron who concentrated the world’s largest art collection of the time in Prague Castle, attracted alchemists like bees to honey. It also drew two legendary alchemists from Britain, Edward Kelley and John Dee. Edward Kelley, formerly known as Talbot, fled England for Prague in 1584 after losing both ears at the hands of an executioner for forging official documents. He was accompanied by the alchemist John Dee, Queen Elizabeth I’s court astrologer. The two shared the same dream: to garner favour with the emperor. The alchemists did actually reach the emperor after some time. Rudolf II, however, was not impressed by John Dee, and had him banished from the country as a spy not long afterwards. Edward remained in Bohemia and gained the emperor’s attention once his fame spread after curing the prominent nobleman William of Rožmberk. Initially, the monarch was delighted by Kelley, for the charming man was an excellent mystifier. He hid his missing earlobes under flowing locks of hair, shamelessly boasted university degrees despite never having completed medical studies, and was able to convincingly promise just about anything. He thus promised to produce a Philosopher’s Stone that would transform any metal into gold, concoct an elixir of eternal youth, or see remote places or eavesdrop on people’s conversations using a “black mirror”. He literally stunned everyone present by successfully transmuting boiling mercury into pure gold before the eyes of the emperor, although it was a mere illusion. Kelley’s career at the emperor’s court soared. He was appointed to the imperial council, became the court alchemist and was even elevated to noble status as the “Knight of Imana”. Kelley met with other alchemists and scholars of Rudolfinian Prague in the city; he visited the mysterious Nový Svět (New World) quarter, which was inhabited by other experts in the craft, including the Danish stargazer and mathematician Tycho Brahe. However, he settled a little further from the centre of the action in the legendary Faust House, which stands on a former pagan sacrificial site on the route of the coronation processions between Vyšehrad and Prague Castle. Among the incentives for buying the house was undoubtedly the ancient existence of an old alchemist’s workshop in the bowels of the building. Kelley’s residence there further fuelled rumours of black magic and the legend of Doctor Faust, who was taken by the devil through a hole in the ceiling. He occupied the house with his wife Joanna Weston and her daughter Elizabeth Jane Weston. Thanks to the support of her stepfather, Elizabeth received an exceptional education, spoke several languages and wrote poetry. She remained in Prague after Kelley’s death and strived to save his confiscated property. She was the only woman to be included in a catalogue of the most important scholars of her time. Edward Kelley had another laboratory in the house U Osla v kolébce (At the Donkey in the Cradle) near Prague Castle. In two attic rooms he tried to create a homunculus – an artificial human. Was he perhaps inspired by the legend of the Prague Golem? We do not know. What we do know for sure is how the house got its name. According to legend, it was named At the Donkey in the Cradle because the tenant of this Lesser Town house is said to have noticed what the famous alchemist was hiding under his locks of hair. In a fit of rage, the angry wizard conjured donkey ears onto her baby in the cradle! However, every mystifier is exposed sooner or later, and Emperor Rudolf II already suspected that the magistrate was pulling his leg when he refused to reveal the secret of transmutation. He therefore fled Prague, but on the way he killed a Czech nobleman in a forbidden duel, was imprisoned at Křivoklát Castle and had his property confiscated. He tried to escape from the castle prison, but the rope broke, the unfortunate man broke his leg in several places and it had to be amputated. He was pardoned by the emperor, but then fell into debt again and was imprisoned a second time, this time at Hněvín Castle in Most. He tried to escape from this prison too, with help from his wife. Ironically, the outcome was the same – he broke his other leg. He resolved his hopeless situation by ingesting a potent poison. He died on 1 November 1597 at the age of 42.