Thus we knocked at the Jesuit's door. I foresaw all too well the reaction of the cowardly Robleda to our bad news: anxiety, stammering and, above all, noisy scorn for Cristofano's attitude. To my surprise, none of that came to pass.
'How come that you should not have tried to cure Bedfordi through the use of magnetism?' Robleda asked the physician, as soon as he had finished explaining the sad situation to him.
Cristofano remained speechless. Robleda then reminded him that, according to Father Kircher, the whole of creation was dominated by magnetism, so much so that the learned Jesuit had devoted a book to explaining the entire doctrine, clarifying once and for all that the world is nothing more than a great magnetic concatenation at the centre of which is God, the first and the one original magnet, towards Whom every object and every living being tends irremediably. Is not love (both human and divine) an expression of magnetic attraction? Indeed, is not every kind of fascination? The planets and the stars are, as all know, subject to reciprocal magnetism; but the celestial bodies are also inhabited by magnetic force.
'Well, yes,' intervened Cristofano, 'I do know the example of the compass.'
'… which, of course, aids navigators and travellers to orient themselves; but there is far more to it.'
What should we say of the magnetism exercised upon the waters by the sun and the moon, so evident from the tides? And, in plants, the universal vis attractiva is clearly to be found: the vegetal magnetic force triumphs in the barometz, said Robleda, as no doubt the doctor well knew.
'Mmm, yes indeed…' said Cristofano, hesitantly.
'What is that?' I asked.
'Well, my boy,' said the Jesuit, adopting a paternal tone, 'this is the celebrated plant from the lands of Tartary, which senses magnetically the presence of nearby sheep and then produces miraculous flowers in the form of sheep.'
Analogous is the behaviour of the heliotropes, which magnetically follow the path of the sun (like the sunflower, from which Father Kircher had fashioned an extraordinary heliotropic clock) and that of the selenotropic plants, whose blossoms follow the moon instead.
Animals, too, are magnetic: while leaving aside the all too well-known examples of the torpedo and of the fisher frog, which attract and paralyse their prey, animal magnetism is clearly observable in the anguis stupidus, the enormous American serpent which lives immobile below ground and attracts prey to itself, mostly deer, which it calmly proceeds to envelop in its coils and to swallow, slowly dissolving in its mouth their flesh and even their hard horns. And, is not the faculty magnetic whereby the anthropomorphic fish, also known as sirens, attract unfortunate mariners into the waters?
'I understand,' retorted Cristofano, slightly confused, 'but our task is to cure Bedfordi, not to devour or to capture him.'
'And do you perhaps believe that medicinal remedies do not act through their magnetic virtue?' asked Robleda, with skilful rhetoric.
'I have never heard of anyone being cured in that way,' I observed dubiously.
'Well, it is quite naturally the therapy to be employed where all others have failed,' said Robleda in defence of his contention. 'What matters is not to lose sight of the laws of magnetism. First, one cures the sickness using every herb, stone, metal, fruit or seed which bears a similarity in colour, form, quality, figure et cetera with the diseased part. One observes the correspondences with the stars: heliotropic plants for solar types, lunar plants for lunatics, and so on and so forth. Then the principium similitudinis: kidney stones, for example, are cured with stones from the bladders of swine or other creatures which enjoy stony environs, such as crustaceans and oysters. The same is true of plants: the chondrilla, for example, the roots of which are covered in nodes and protuberances, are splendid for curing haemorrhoids. Finally, even poisons can act as antidotes; and in the same way, honey is excellent for healing bee stings, spiders' legs are used in poultices against spiders' bites…'
'Now, I understand,' lied Cristofano. 'Yet I fail to see with what magnetic therapy we should cure Bedfordi.'
'But that is simple: with music.'
Padre Robleda had not the slightest doubt: as Kircher had most clearly explained, the art of sounds entered too into the law of universal Magnetism. The ancients knew that the different musical modes were able through magnetism to stimulate the soul: the Doric mode inspired temperance and moderation, the Lydian, which was suitable for funerals, moved one to tears and lamentation; the Mixolydian mode aroused commiseration, piety and the like; the Aeolian and the Ionic induced sleep and torpor. If, then, one rubs the edge of a glass with a damp fingertip, it will emit a sound which will be propagated magnetically to all similar beakers placed in the immediate vicinity, thus provoking choral resonance. But the magnetismus musicae also has exceedingly powerful therapeutic capacities, which manifest most markedly in the cure of tarantism.
'Tarantism?' I asked, while Cristofano at last nodded his accord.
'In the city of Taranto, in the Kingdom of Naples,' explained the physician, 'a species of unusually noxious spider is often to be found, which are therefore known as tarantulas.'
Their bite, Cristofano explained, produces effects which are, to say the least, terrifying: the victim first bursts into uncontrollable fits of laughter, ceaselessly rolling and twisting on the ground. He then jumps to his feet and raises his right arm high, as though unsheathing a sword, like a gladiator preparing solemnly for combat, and exhibits himself in a series of ridiculous gesticulations, before yet again casting himself down to the ground in another fit of hilarity. He then pretends again, with great pomp, to be a general or condottiere, whereupon he is seized with an irrepressible thirst for water and coolness, so that if he is given a vase full of water, he will plunge his whole head into it, shaking it frenetically as sparrows do when washing in a fountain. He then runs to a tree and climbs up it, remaining suspended therefrom, sometimes for many days. At last, he lets himself fall to the ground, exhausted and, kneeling bent double, he falls a-groaning and a-sighing and strikes the bare ground with his fists like an epileptic or a lunatic, invoking punishments and misadventures upon his own head.
'But that is terrible,' I commented, horrified. 'All that, just from the bite of a tarantula?'
'Of course,' confirmed Robleda, 'and that is without mentioning other extraordinary magnetic effects: the bite of the red tarantula causes the victim to become red in the face, green tarantulas make one turn green, and striped ones likewise cause the victim to come out in stripes, while aquatic ones induce a desire for water, those which dwell in hot places induce choler, and so on and so forth.'
'And how is it cured?' I asked, growing curious.
'Perfecting the primitive knowledge of certain peasants from Taranto,' said Robleda, rummaging in his drawers and then proudly showing us a leaf of paper, 'Padre Kircher prepared an antidote.'
He showed us a crumpled half-sheet of paper, covered in notes and pentagrams. We observed him with perplexity and no little suspicion,
'And with what does one play?'
'Well, the Tarantini perform it with tambourines, lyres, zithers, dulcimers and flutes; and, obviously, with guitars, like that of Devize.'
'In short,' the physician retorted perplexedly, 'you are saying that Devize could cure Bedfordi with this music.'
'Oh no, this is good only for the bite of the tarantula. We shall have to use something else.'
'Another music?' I asked.
'We shall have to use trial and error. We shall leave the choice to Devize. But remember, my sons: in desperate cases, the only true succour comes from the Lord; and,' added Padre Robleda, 'no one has ever discovered an antidote for the pestilence.'
'You are right, Padre,' I heard Cristofano say, while obscurely I remembered the arcanae obices. 'And I wish to place my entire confidence in the theories of your colleague Kircher.'
The physician, as he freely admitted, no longer knew to which saint to address himself; yet, still hoping that his cures might, sooner or later, have a beneficial effect upon Bedfordi, he would not deprive his moribund patient of one last desperate attempt. He therefore informed me that we would, for the time being, delay informing the other guests of the Englishman's desperate condition.
Later, when I was already serving dinner, Cristofano told me that he had set an appointment with Devize for the morrow. The French musician, whose chamber was next to that of Bedfordi, would only have to play his guitar in the Englishman's doorway.
