The Anatomy of Melancholy

Do not, then, be so contrary, so grasping, so mistrustful, so particular and hard to please. Let us all marry, “cherishing one another’s embraces”: “Take me to yourself, and yourself to me.” Tomorrow is Saint Valentine’s Day; let us keep it as a holiday for Cupid’s sake, for the sake of that great god Love, for Hymen’s sake. Let us celebrate the Vigil of Venus together in our ancestors’ company, singing as they did:

Tomorrow let him love who never loved; and he who has loved, let him love tomorrow. Spring is new, spring now sings; in spring the world was born. In spring loves come into harmony, in spring birds mate, And the woodland loosens its leafy hair, and so on. Tomorrow let him love, and so on.

Anyone averse to marriage should read further in Barbaro, On Marriage, book 1, chapter 1; Lemnius, On Education, chapter 4; P. Godefridus, On Love, book 3, chapter 1; Nevisanus, book 3; Alessandro degli Alessandri, book 4, chapter 8; and the tracts of Tunstall and Erasmus in praise of marriage, and so forth.

I do not doubt that in the end he will be satisfied, recant with Beroaldo, and do penance for his former folly, singing penitential songs. He will seek reconciliation with the divinity of this great god Love, make a pilgrimage to his shrine, offer gifts to his image, sacrifice upon his altar, and at last be as willing to embrace marriage as the rest.

I hope that no one will be found, “not even in that austere family of Stoics, who refuses to submit his solemn beard and haughty looks to a wife’s embrace, or disagrees with his fellows on this point.” For “what would a man in his prime more gladly see,” as Varro holds, “than a beautiful wife, a sweet wife, a loving wife?” Can the world offer a better sight, sweeter contentment, a fairer object, a more pleasing appearance?

Since marriage is the last and best refuge and cure for love melancholy, all doubts are cleared and obstacles removed. I ask again: what remains except that, according to both their desires, they should be happily joined, since there is no other remedy? God send us all good wives, each man his wish in this matter—and me mine!

And may God, who made this whole world, Send him his love, who has paid so dearly for it.

If everyone is content, publish their marriage banns: it is a match. “He enjoys Rhodanthe as his bride, and she Dosicles as her bridegroom.” Rhodanthe and Dosicles shall be joined, Clitiphon and Leucippe, Theagenes and Charicleia; Poliarchus has his Argenis, Lysander his Calista; and, to complete the masque, “the youth Iphis possesses his own Ianthe.”

And Troilus, in pleasure and at peace, Is with Criseyde, his own sweetheart.

And although they have barely passed through the dangers, bringing the match about through many difficulties and delays, let those who marry in this way take comfort from Aristaenetus: “After many troubles and cares, lovers’ marriages are sweeter and more pleasant.”