More remarkably, although they are very thirsty, as sufferers from this disease are, they would rather die than drink. The ancient writer Caelius Aurelianus questions whether hydrophobia is a disorder of the body or of the mind. The affected part is the brain; the cause is poison from the mad dog, so hot and dry that it consumes all the body’s moisture. Hildesheim tells of people who died in this madness and, when dissected, had no water, scarcely any blood, or any moisture left in them.

In those affected, the fear of water begins fourteen days after the bite, though in some it does not begin until forty or sixty days later. Usually, Heurnius says, about twenty days after the bite—unless some remedy has been taken meanwhile—they begin to rave, avoid water and mirrors, grow red and swollen in the face, lie awake, become troubled and sad, see strange visions, bark and howl, faint, and often have fits of the falling sickness. Some say little things resembling puppies can be seen in their urine. If any of these signs appear, they are beyond recovery.

Often these symptoms do not appear until six or seven months afterwards, Codronchus says; sometimes not for seven or eight years, according to Guianerius; twelve years, according to Albertus; or six or eight months, as Galen holds. Baldus, the great jurist, died of it. An Augustinian friar and a woman in Delft, both patients of Forestus, were miserably destroyed by it.

The usual country cure, at least for people living near the coast, is to immerse them completely in seawater. Some use charms; every housewife can prescribe medicines. But the best treatment for such cases comes from the most reputable physicians. Readers who want to learn about these treatments may consult Dioscorides, book 6, chapter 37; Heurnius, Hildesheim, Capivaccius, Forestus and Schenck; and above all the Italian Codronchus, who has recently written two excellent books on the subject.

Chorus sancti Viti, or St Vitus’s dance—Paracelsus calls it the lascivious dance—is so named because those seized by it can do nothing but dance until they die or are cured. The name comes from the sufferers’ former custom of going to St Vitus for help; after dancing there for a while, they were certainly relieved.

It is astonishing to hear how long they dance, and in what manner: over stools, benches and tables. Even heavily pregnant women will sometimes dance so long—yet without ever harming their children—that they can move neither hand nor foot and seem quite dead. They cannot bear someone dressed in red. Above all, they love music, so magistrates in Germany hire musicians to play for them and strong, vigorous companions to dance with them.

This disease has been very common in Germany, as the accounts of Schenck and of Paracelsus in his book on madness show; Paracelsus boasts of the many people he has cured. Felix Plater, in chapter 3 of his work on mental derangement, reports seeing a woman in Basel who danced for a whole month. The Arabian physicians call it a kind of palsy. Bodin discusses the disorder in book 5, chapter 1 of his Republic, as does Monavius in his last letter to Scoltizius and in another to Dudithus, where you may read more about it.

The last kind of madness or melancholy is demonic, if I may call it that: harassment or possession by devils, which Plater and others consider beyond nature. Astonishing things are told of those affected—their actions, gestures, contortions, fasting, prophecies, speaking languages they were never taught and so on. Many strange stories are related about them, but since some people reject these accounts—Deacon and Darrel have written substantial volumes on opposing sides of the question—I choose to omit them.

Fuchs, in his Institutes, book 3, section 1, chapter 11, Felix Plater and Laurentius add another frenzy arising from love, another from study, and another divine or religious frenzy. These, however, belong more properly to melancholy. I shall discuss them separately, intending to devote a whole book to them.