The Anatomy of Melancholy

They think entirely about such things and imagine that they see or hear plays, dancing and similar entertainments, free from all fear and sorrow, as Hercules de Saxonia supposes. If they are more strongly affected by this kind of melancholy, Arnoldus adds in his Breviary, book 1, chapter 18, they are like the man of Argos in the poet, who sat laughing all day long as though he had been at a theatre.

Another such man is mentioned by Aristotle, living at Abydos, a town in Asia Minor. He would sit in the same way, as though he were on a stage, and sometimes act himself, then clap his hands and laugh as though greatly pleased by the spectacle. Wolfius tells of a countryman called Brunsellius, subject to this humour, who happened to be at a sermon and saw a half-asleep woman fall off a bench. Most of the congregation laughed at the sight, but he was so moved that for three whole days afterwards he did nothing but laugh, which greatly weakened him and left him worse for a long time afterwards.

Old Sophocles was such a man, and Democritus himself had “cheerful delirium,” very much in this vein. Laurentius, chapter 3 of On Melancholy, thinks that this kind of melancholy, slightly scorched and with some admixture of blood, is what Aristotle meant when he said that melancholic people are the most intellectually gifted of all. It often causes a divine rapture and a kind of inspired possession, stirring them to become outstanding philosophers, poets, prophets and so forth. Mercurialis, consultation 110, gives the example of a young patient of his with sanguine melancholy, a man of great intellectual ability and exceptional learning.

If it arises from scorched choler, they are bold and shameless, more reckless in disposition, inclined to quarrel and think about such things—battles, combats and their own prowess—furious, impatient in conversation, stubborn, unyielding and extravagant in their opinions. If stirred up, they become extremely violent and outrageous, ready to shame or provoke anyone, to kill themselves and others. Arnoldus adds that they are stark mad in fits; they sleep little, and their urine is thin and fiery (Guianerius). During their fits you will hear them speak every sort of language—Hebrew, Greek and Latin—though they were never taught them and never knew them before.

Apponensis, in his commentary on section 30 of the Problems, speaks of a mad woman who spoke excellent Latin; and Rhazes knew another who could prophesy during her fit and truly foretell future events. Guianerius had a patient who could compose Latin verses when the Moon was combust, though otherwise unlettered. Avicenna and some of his followers hold that, when these symptoms occur, they come from the devil, and that such people are “demon-possessed”—possessed rather than mad or melancholic, or both together, as Jason Pratensis thinks: “Evil spirits intrude,” and so on.