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portion of earth in which my poor old friend is deposited, are returned to dust as well as he, and that there is no difference in the grave between the imaginary and the real monarch.
GRIEF AND DISTRACTION.
CONSTANCE LAMENTING PRINCE ARTHUR.
K. Phil. Patience, good lady, comfort, gentle Constance.
But that which ends all counsel, true redress,
Come grin on me; and I will think thou smil'st,
MELANCHOLY, or fixed grief, is gloomy, sedentary, motionless. The lower jaw falls; the lips pale, the eyes are cast down, half shut, eye-lids swollen and red, or livid, tears trickling silent and unperceived; with a total inattention to every thing that passes. Words, if any, few; and those dragged out, rather than spoken; the accents weak and interrupted, sighs breaking into the middle of sentences and words. Melancholy, when softened by time, assumes a less gloomy character, and may more properly be termed Pensiveness; in which stage it is not always unpleasing. This sort of Philosophical Melancholy, is admirably described by Milton, Collins, and other poets..
PERSONIFICATION OF MELANCHOLY.
With eyes uprais'd, as one inspir'd,
Pale melancholy sat retir'd;
And from her wild sequester'd seat,
In notes by distance made more sweet,
Pour'd through the mellow horn her pensive soul,
And dashing soft from rocks around,
Bubbling runnels join'd the sound;
Through glades and glooms, the mingled measures stole.
Or o'er some haunted stream, with fond delay,
Round an holy calm diffusing
Love of peace, and lonely musing,
In hollow murmurs died away.
MELANCHOLY FROM "IL PENSEROSO."
-hail, thou goddess, sage and holy,
Hail, divinest Melancholy,
Whose saintly visage is too bright
Sweet bird that shunn'st the noise of Folly,
Foreboding, or anticipation of any unfortunate event that may happen, produces the species of melancholy called Sadness, as in the following Examples:-
ANTONIO, DOUBTFUL OF HIS VENTURES AT SEA.
In sooth, I know not why I am so sad,
It wearies me, you say it wearies you;
But how I caught it, found it, or came by it,
What stuff 'tis made of, whereof 'tis born,
I am to learn-and such a want wit sadness makes of me,
HENRY VI. WAITING NEWS FROM HIS ARMY.
This battle fares like to the morning's war,
When dying clouds contend with glowing light;
What time the shepherd, blowing of his nails,
Can neither call it perfect day, or night,
Now sways it this way, like a mighty sea,
'Would I were dead! if God's good will were so :
For what is in this world, but grief and woe?
O God! methinks, it were a happy life,
To be no better than a homely swain;
To sit upon a hill as I do now,
To carve out dials quaintly, point by point,
Thereby to see the minutes how they run.
RICHARD II. ON BOLINGBROKE'S REVOLT AND SUCCESS.
Of comfort no man speak:
Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs;
Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes,
Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth,
Let's chuse executors, and talk of wills;
To monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks,
Bores through his castle-wall, and-farewell king,—
VALENTINE IN HIS BANISHMENT.
Thou gentle nymph, cherish thy forlorn swain !
PHILOSOPHIC MELANCHOLY, OR PENSIVENESS.
The nature of philosophic melancholy is well described by, and exemplified in, the character of Jaques, in Shakespeare's "As you Like it," who in the following speech, after describing various kinds of melancholy, explains the nature of his own; which it is to be observed however, has a mixture of cynical
ness in it, differing from the mild kind of melancholy called pensiveness.
JAQUES, IN "AS YOU LIKE IT.”
I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is emulation; nor the musician's, which is fantastical; nor the courtier's, which is proud; nor the soldier's, which is ambitious; nor the lawyer's, which is politic; nor the lady's, which is nice; nor the lover's, which is all these; but it is a melancholy of my own, compounded of many simples, extracted from many objects, and indeed, the sundry contemplation of my travels, in which my often rumination wraps me in a most humorous sadness.
JAQUES, MORALIZING ON THE STAG.
The melancholy Jaques grieves at that,
Duke. But what said Jaques ?
Did he not moralize on the spectacle?
Lord. O yes, into a thousand similes;
First, for his weeping in the needless stream;
To that which hath too much. Then being alonę,
MACBETH, ON THE FLIGHT OF TIME.
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
FEAR, (violent and sudden) opens very wide the eyes and mouth; shortens the nose; draws down the eyebrows: gives the countenance an air of wildness; covers it with deadly paleness; draws back the elbows parallel with the sides; lifts up the open hands and fingers together to the height of the breast; so that the palms face the dreadful object, like shields opposed to it; one foot is drawn back behind the other, so that the body seems shrinking from the danger, and putting itself in a posture for flight. The heart beats violently; the breath is quick and short; the whole body is thrown into a general tremor. The voice is weak and trembling; the sentences are short, and the meaning confused and incoherent. Collins, thus describes Fear in his Ode on the Passions.
First Fear, her hand its skill to try,
Fear of imminent danger, real or fancied, produces in timorous persons, as women and children, violent shrieks without any articulate sound of words; and sometimes irrovocably confounds the understanding, producing a silent and motionless torpidity, which is followed by faintings, and oftentimes by death.
Fear is but active grief, avoiding pain,
Yet flies too faintly, and avoids in vain;
While stagnant spirits thick'ning as they spread,
O'er the cold heart, crawl slow like living lead,
What though the eye's prompt ray, keen light'ning dart,
THE SCHOOL-BOY CROSSING A CHURCH YARD AT NIGHT. Oft in the lone church yard at night I've seen,
By glimpse of moonshine checkering thro' the trees,