Everyone in the hall laughed. It is really tiresome. I know that feeling all too well. It happens with cigarellas, too, if you don’t have a light at hand. Even though cigarellas are much easier to light, much easier. The Spaniards thought these things through a long time ago. We’re already returning from where the English are going, as they say. Normandy? Was Pelletier from Normandy, perhaps? Where are you from, Pelletier? From Mans. But where is Mans?
“I would say, gentlemen,” Dr. Cheynell continued — who, incidentally, was making me feel proud of the profession I had chosen—“that if tobacco is used wisely and in accordance with Nature, there is no medicament in the world that can compare with it. In tobacco there is nothing which is not medicine, the root, the stalk, the leaves, the seeds, the smoke, even the ashes. But especially the juice, which is terribly fatal according to one of my opponents, and who stooped so low as to use the common folk of London as an example. May I ask then why did he not use ants, crocodiles, sheep, or dung-beetles as examples? What an idea, most honorable gentlemen!”
“Then why do you use the Indians as examples?” a voice called from the audience. “They aren’t even Christian, unlike the common folk.”
“Oh, that’s completely different,” Dr. Cheynell replied. “We use the Indians as an example because they are still the innocent children of Nature, among whom we do not find the distinctions that exist within our old nations. They are still in a state of nature, very close to man’s primordial state, like the first generation after Adam and Eve. That is completely different,” Dr. Cheynell repeated. “But getting back to tobacco juice. The juice of that plant possesses wondrous digestive, cleansing, and coagulating abilities, thanks to which it has an incomparable power to heal all wounds or cuts to the body, ulcers, scabs, and so forth, for which tobacco deserves very high marks. But now I arrive at the properties of the smoke, which is taken through a pipe first into the mouth, from whence some thrust it towards the nostrils, while others suck it directly into the stomach and chest as a remedy against all diseases, especially those brought about by cold, that is, which come from cold and wet causes. I approve of and recommend tobacco smoke as necessary and useful to people with an elevated content of cold and wet elements in their bodily composition, as well as throughout the cold and wet season, as long as the tobacco is used appropriately, i.e. in a temperate and timely fashion, because then, thanks to its warming and drying properties, it helps the brain, which is overly cold and wet, reduce that state to the normal temperature. It casts out rheums and coldness of the head and is useful for all illnesses of the body and brain being of a cold and wet cause, by drying and absorbing the superfluous air and crudities in the head. Indeed it does, at least at first, chase away melancholy and awaken dozing vital energies, helps against toothaches, swelling of the gums and aching joints. It guards against the decay of the four cardinal bodily humors, by drying up the crude materials within the body and is very useful not only against colds, but also against all ills of the stomach, chest, and lungs due to cold and wet causes. It is, finally, a very good remedy against overeating, since, as our opponent pointed out, it induces quick expulsion — evacuation in our medical language — expulsion, as I said, both above and below, of things contained in the stomach, and for the same reason quickly relieves those suffering from windiness by instantly driving the latter from stomach and bowels. Let me conclude, gentlemen, by saying that tobacco can be used as a general means for strengthening the organism, as well as perhaps for some of its more exotic effects. Because the Indians, from whom we learned this method of taking tobacco, first smoked it to fall asleep when their bodies were weary from labor and such efforts, or else when they wished to foretell future events, since the smoke produced, at least in them, a lightness in the head, followed by a dream with various visions and revelations. For this reason, when they awoke, they felt, as a result of said dream, very rested and refreshed and able, thanks to the visions, which the smoke, to a great extent, induced, to foretell, as they think, all important things they wish to know.”
“And you, sir, as a smoker, could you not foretell a few important future events concerning England?” the king said, provoking laughter all around. “Because if that is the case, I could dissolve my council and appoint you in its place. But if you cannot, I think in that case I would be satisfied with some Indian.”
Indeed, Dr. Cheynell could have spared those final words. He, however, took the king’s rebuke with a smile and replied confidently once the laughter had died down: “That, Your Majesty, I cannot foretell. But my soothsaying does lead me to believe that Dr. Monardes himself, the discoverer of tobacco, is here in our midst. And if you think that it stands close to reason, then I would object that it’s not closer than Spain. And yet he is here among us, in this hall.”
“Really, sir?” the king raised his eyebrows.
“I believe so, Your Majesty, even though I have never seen that illustrious man, whom I have always fervently wished to meet since the beginning of my career, when I studied his works with such delight.”
At that moment, my teacher stood up and said: “It is so, Your Majesty. I really am here. My name is Nicolas Monardes, doctor from Sevilla.”
His words had an indescribable, staggering effect. All those present were so shocked that they didn’t even think to applaud as politeness required. Isaac Wake had stopped writing and was staring open-mouthed at the doctor. It seemed to me that even Dr. Cheynell was surprised, although he shouldn’t have been. How had he known? Surely thanks to Mr. Frampton, since Dr. Monardes also looked very surprised.
The king was the first to recover from the shock, saying: “We all know your name, sir. Both those who agree and disagree with you.”
A burst of applause followed. Part of the public got to its feet, clapping enthusiastically. The doctor nodded his head and turned in various directions, raising his hand in greeting. A few of those seated near him shook his hand.
“Please take the podium, sir,” the king invited him.
“That won’t be necessary, Your Majesty. I will speak from the floor like my most learned colleague Dr. Cheynell, whom it is an honor for me to meet”—our señor nodded at Dr. Cheynell. “Besides, my speech will be very short. Because everyone who would like to know more can learn it from my works, which Mr. Frampton, who is seated next to me now, was so kind as to translate into the wonderful English language. For certain imperfections in the use of which I do hope you will forgive me. I could, of course, speak Latin, but that might pose a difficulty to some members of the audience.”
“Yes, yes,” agreed the king, “as learned men we all know Latin, but there’s no need.”
“Precisely,” Dr. Monardes nodded.
Now is the moment to offer some clarification (this is me, Guimarães). The reader might be wondering how I learned English so quickly as to be able to act as stenographer. I learned it on the ship, the Hyguiene, on our way here. The truth is that I have an exceptional gift for languages. One might even say that I am a born grammarian. Of course, I have a gift for many other things as well — I myself am surprised by that, dear reader, believe me — but in this case we are talking about this particular gift. Of course, we can’t discount the lessons which Mr. Frampton gave me over a year while he was a prisoner of the Inquisition, before he escaped. Incidentally, Mr. Frampton did not wish to give me those lessons and agreed to do so only after I promised him a reward of seven cigarellas a week, which I was later forced to raise to ten. But, of course, at the end of the day, it cannot be attributed to the cigarellas. Cigarellas can do many things, but they cannot teach you a language and give you the ability to make use of it. For that, you need a gift, señores.