Carto acknowledges that the stars’ influence plays a major part in this particular disease, as do Jason Pratensis, Lonicerius in his preface to On Apoplexy, Ficino, Fernel, and others. P. Cnemander acknowledges the stars as a universal cause, while particular causes arise from parents and the management of the six non-natural things. Giambattista Porta, Magic, book 1, chapters 10, 12 and 15, holds that they are causes affecting every single individual.

Cases and examples offered as proof of these rules abound in those astrological treatises. Cardan, in his thirty-seventh nativity, gives the example of Math. Bolognius; Camerarius, in his seventh hundred birth horoscopes, nativities 6 and 7, gives Daniel Gare and others. But see Græcus, chapter 33, and Luca Gaurico, treatise 6, On Bodily Defects, and so forth.

This melancholy occurs when the significators in a birth chart—the ascendant, moon, hyleg, and so forth—are directed according to the art towards hostile rays or terms, especially those of Saturn and Mars, or towards any fixed star of their nature; or when Saturn, by its revolution or transit, adversely affects any of those natal promissors in the chart.

Other signs are drawn from physiognomy, metoposcopy and chiromancy. John of Indagine, Rothmann—the Landgrave of Hesse’s mathematician—in his recent Chiromancy, and Giambattista Porta in his Celestial Physiognomy have shown these to be closely related to astrology. I am therefore more willing to include them to satisfy the curious.

The general principles physiognomists give are these: a dark complexion indicates natural melancholy, as do thinness, hairiness, prominent veins and bushy eyebrows, says Gratarolo in chapter 7; and, following Aristotle, a small head. A deep, ruddy complexion indicates melancholy of the head. Those who stutter and are bald will most readily become melancholy, Avicenna supposes, because their brains are dry.

Anyone wishing to learn more about the various signs of humours and mental capacities supplied by physiognomy should consult the ancient Adamantius and Polemon, who comment—or rather paraphrase—upon Aristotle’s Physiognomy; Giambattista Porta’s four entertaining books; Michael Scot, On the Secrets of Nature; John of Indagine; Montalto; and Antonio Zara’s Anatomy of Minds, section 1, member 13, and book 4.

Chiromancy has these rules for predicting melancholy. Taisnier, book 5, chapter 2, who has gathered into his book the substance of John of Indagine, Tricassus, Corvinus and others, puts it thus: the line of Saturn, running from the wrist crease through the hand to the mount of Saturn, and crossed there by certain little lines, indicates melancholy. So does an acute angle between the life line and the natural line.

Aphorism 100: the Saturnine, hepatic and natural lines, forming a large triangle in the hand, indicate the same. Goclenius, Chiromancy, chapter 5, repeats this word for word. In general, they all conclude that if the mount of Saturn is covered with many small lines and crossings, such people are mostly melancholy, miserable and full of uneasiness, anxiety and trouble, continually tormented by anxious and bitter thoughts, always sorrowful, fearful and suspicious. They delight in farming, buildings, pools, marshes, springs, woods, walks, and so on.

Thaddeus Hagecius, in his Metoposcopy, gives certain rules drawn from the lines of Saturn in the forehead, from which he infers a melancholic disposition. Giambattista Porta makes observations from other parts of the body: for example, a spot over the spleen, or a black spot appearing in the nails, signifies much anxiety, grief, conflict and melancholy.

He attributes the cause to the humours and cites himself as an example: for seven years he had such black spots in his nails, and throughout that time was caught in continual lawsuits, disputes over his inheritance, fear, loss of honour, banishment, grief, anxiety, and so forth. When his miseries ended, the black spots vanished. Cardan, in his book On His Own Books, tells a similar story about himself: shortly before his son’s death, a black spot appeared in one of his nails and grew larger as his son approached his end.

But I have dwelt too long on these trifles. Though some people, judging too severely, may call them absurd and ridiculous, I include them more boldly because I have borrowed them from the writings of worthy philosophers and physicians—some still alive—and devout professors at famous universities, rather than from roving rogues and Gypsies. These men can defend what they have said and vindicate themselves against all quibblers and ignorant critics.