“Six thousand shops for that stinking stuff!”
“Oh, not for this alone. The apothecaries, grocers, and chandlers have it, and in every tavern you shall find the pipe handed round, even where, as in the meaner sort, it be made but of a walnut shell and a straw. Why, Aunt, ’tis wondrous wholesome and healing for divers diseases.”
“Let’s hear which of them.”
“Well—migraines (headaches), colics, toothache, ague, colds, obstructions through wind, and fits of the mother (hysterics); gout, epilepsy, and hydropsy (dropsy). The brain, look you, being naturally cold and wet, all hot and dry things must be good for it.”
“I’d as soon have any of those divers distempers as that,” solemnly announced Aunt Temperance. “‘Brain cold and wet!’ when didst thou handle thy brains, that thou shouldst know whether they be cold or not?”
“I do ensure you, Aunt, thus saith Dr Barclay, one of the first physicians in London town, which useth this tobago for all these diseases. He only saith ’tis not to be touched with food, or after it, but must be took fasting. Moreover, it helps the digestion.”
“It’ll not help mine. And prithee, Mr Aubrey Louvaine, which of all this list of disorders hast thou?”
“I, Aunt? Oh, I’m well enough.”
“Dear heart! When I am well enough, I warrant you, I take no physic.”
“Oh, but, Aunt, ’tis not physic only. ’Tis rare comforting and soothing.”