The Anatomy of Melancholy

Honourable rivalry in study and in every calling is not to be condemned. It is “the whetstone of intelligence,” as someone calls it—the whetstone of wit, the nurse of intelligence and courage; that spirit inspired those noble Romans to heroic deeds. There is a restrained ambition: Themistocles was stirred by the glory of Miltiades, and Achilles’s trophies moved Alexander.

To seek advancement always is foolish presumption; To seek it never is idle arrogance.

It is a sluggish disposition never to compete or apply at all: to withdraw, neglect or refrain from positions, honours and offices through laziness, stinginess, fear, shyness or some other reason, when one’s birth, standing, means and education call one to them, and one is suited, qualified and well able to undertake them. But when ambition becomes excessive, it is a plague and a miserable torment.

How much money Henry VIII and Francis I, King of France, spent at that famous meeting! And how many vain courtiers, each trying to outshine the others, spent their livelihoods and fortunes and died as beggars! The emperor Hadrian was so galled by this passion that he killed all his equals; so did Nero. It made the tyrant Dionysius banish Plato and the poet Philoxenus because they excelled and, he thought, eclipsed his glory. It made the Romans exile Coriolanus, banish Camillus and murder Scipio; and the Greeks expel Aristides, Nicias and Alcibiades by ostracism, imprison Theseus, kill Phocion, and so on.

When Richard I and Philip of France fought alongside one another at the siege of Acre in the Holy Land, Richard proved himself the more valiant, so that everyone’s eyes were upon him. This so galled Philip—“the king’s victory burned the Frenchman,” says my authority; “he bore Richard’s glory so badly that he picked at his words and slandered his deeds”—that he found fault with all Richard’s proceedings and at last broke into open defiance. Unable to restrain himself any longer, he hurried home, invaded Richard’s territories and declared open war.

“Hatred stirs up contention,” Proverbs 10:12. At last they erupt into undying enmity and venom, into hatred and fury surpassing even Vatinius’s. They persecute each other, their friends, followers and all their descendants with bitter taunts, hostile wars, foul abuse, defamatory writings, slander, fire, sword and the like, and refuse reconciliation. Witness the Guelf and Ghibelline factions in Italy; the Adorni and Fregosi in Genoa; Gnaeus Papirius and Quintus Fabius in Rome; Caesar and Pompey; Orléans and Burgundy in France; York and Lancaster in England.

Indeed, this passion often rages so fiercely that it overthrows not only individuals and families but populous cities—Carthage and Corinth bear witness—and even turns flourishing kingdoms into wilderness. This hatred, malice, faction and desire for revenge first invented all those racks, wheels, strappadoes, bronze bulls, deadly instruments, prisons, inquisitions and harsh laws for wearing down and tormenting one another.