Chapter 2: Cesare Mercurio
Last week I feared I might not receive the mineral salt I had asked for, my precious cinnabar from Monte Amiata. My lustrous cinnabar, red with passion. There has been some turmoil in the cinnabar mines of Monte Amiata, the workers complain about suffering from what they call mercurialism. They are nauseous, weak, shaky and if they neglect the warning signs mercury give them, they die. And so those of them who are still half healthy have raised their voice, they refuse to work. The ignorant! In small doses mercury purifies the body from sores and contagious diseases. But mercury will kill the man who treats it like a vulgar element, because it is virile and violent.
I have a sacred respect for mercury, my beloved enemy. I seek its soul, its hidden properties, its innate purity. Yes, its purity! I have been testing ways to eliminate every molecule of impurity from mercury, days and night, and today I have finally succeeded!
Most chemists and even alchemists – the charlatans! – know how to extract mercury from cinnabar, in which sulfur, the negative pole, and mercury, the positive atom, are bound to each other as complimentary souls, as good and evil in this world. When cinnabar is crushed, then heated to temperatures as hot as the earth’s devilish intestines, sulfur dioxide evaporates as a cloud of evanescent pink, which mutes itself into a foam of whiteness as soon as it meets oxygen. Such innocent colours shall not confound you! The vapour mist is toxically malodorous, and the clever chemist will ensure that it is collected in tightly enclosed tubes, and diverted away from the laboratory. When the rotten fumes evaporate, mercury remains in the ampoule, drawn to it by its heavy solidity.
But purity cannot be achieved by most chemists, let alone by alchemists. In truth, no chemist, not even the most skilled one, was able to isolate mercury, distilling every atom of impurity out it. No chemist but one, and that was I! I have created a complex labyrinth of tubes, in which mercury is redistilled in multiple purification cycles till nothing but glossy drops of its noble atoms are collected in the last ampoule.
Whiffs of wind are pushing against the windows of my room, their chilled voice echoing in the house where I live alone. The flame of the candle flicker, its dim halo illuminating my words as I write, and the moon, full and mysteriously sensuous, is looking upon me with the smile of an enigmatic lover. How beautiful is nature!
My eyes are burning and my energies are fading, spent as the candle melting away at my side. I shall rest awhile now, and shall my night be populated with the inspiring and oracular dreams of the wondrous reactions that will spark in my laboratory tomorrow, now that I am the only man in this world to own pure mercury!