Seeing, in some of the former Numbers of the "N. & Q.", a collection of
instances of sudden _high spirits_ immediately preceding some great
calamity, it occurred to me that it would be not uninteresting to throw
together a few instances of sudden _low spirits_, or _illness_, attended
with a similar result. Here our only embarrassment is that of riches.
The first example I have selected is taken from the _Relation de la Mort
de MM. le Duc et le Cardinal de Guise_, by the Sieur Miron, physician to
King Henry III. He first narrates the preparations for the Duke's
assassination, and then proceeds as follows:--
Et peu après que le Duc de Guise fut assis au conseil, 'J'ai
froid, dit-il, le coeur me fait mal: que l'on fasse de feu,' et
s'adressant au Sieur de Morfontaine, tresorier de l'épargne,
'Monsieur de Morfontaine, je vous prie de dire à M. de St Prix,
premier valet de chambre de roy, que je le prie de me donner des
raisins de Darnas ou de la conserve de roses.' ... Le Duc de Guise
met des prunes dans son drageoir, jette le demeurant sur le tapis.
'Messieurs, dit-il, qui en veut?'--et se lève. Mais ainsi qu'il
est à deux pas près de la porte de vieux cabinet, prend sa barbe
avec la main droite, et tourne le corps et le feu à demi pour
regarder ceux qui le suivoient, fut tout soudain saisi au bras par
le Sieur de Montsery l'ainé, qui étoit près de la cheminée, sur
l'opinion qu'il ait, que le duc voulut se reculer pour se mettre
en défense."
The Sieurs des Effranats, de Saint Malines, and de Loignac hasten to
take part in this goodly piece of work, which the Sieur de Montsery the
elder has so gallantly begun. Having the Sieur des Effranats hanging on
his knees, the Sieur de Montsery the elder clinging to his arm, the
Sieur de Saint Malines' dagger sticking in his chest close to his
throat, and the Sieur de Loignac's sword run through his reins, the Duke
for some time drags them all four up and down the chamber; at last he
falls exhausted on the King's bed. Upon this the King--
"Etant en son cabinet, leur ayant demandé s'ils avoient fait, en
sortit et donna un coup de pied par le visage à ce pauvre mort."
Surely it was not without good cause that the Duke, a few minutes
before, felt "a chill at his heart."--
In the next instance I shall cite, the sudden illness forbodes, not any
calamity to the person affected by it, but to the companion of his
journey. It is taken from "Arden of Feversham, his true and lamentable
Tragedy," author unknown, 1592. Arden and his friend Franklin are
travelling by night to Arden's house at Feversham. Franklin is beguiling
the tediousness of the way with a tale. The rest the dramatist shall
relate in his own words:
"_Arden._ Come, Master Franklin, onward with your tale.
_Frank._ I'll assure you, Sir, you task me much:
A heavy blood is gathered at my heart;
And on the sudden is my wind so short,
As hindereth the passage of my speech:
So fierce a qualm ne'er yet assailed me.
_Arden._ Come, Master Franklin, let us go on softly:
The annoyance of the dust, or else some meat
You ate at dinner, cannot brook with you.
I have been often so, and soon amended.
_Frank._ Do you remember where my tale did leave?
_Arden._ Ay, where the gentleman did check his wife.
_Frank._ She, being reprehended for the fact,
Witness produced, that took her with the deed,
Her glove brought in, which there she left behind,
And many other assured arguments,
Her husband asked her whether it were not so--
_Arden._ Her answer then? I wonder how she looked,
Having foresworn it with such vehement oaths,
And at the instant so approved upon her.
_Frank._ First she did cast her eyes down on the earth,
Watching the drops that fell amain from thence:
Then softly draws she out her handkercher,
And modestly she wipes her tear stain'd face.
Then hemm'd she out, to clear her voice it should seem,
And with a majesty addrest herself
To encounter all their accusations--
Pardon me, Master Arden, I can no more;
This fighting at my heart makes short my wind.
_Arden._ Come, we are almost now at Raynham Down;
Your pretty tale beguiles the weary way:
I would you were in ease to tell it out."
Here they are set upon by ruffians, hired by Arden's wife and her
paramour. Arden is killed.--
In the two preceding instances an affection of the heart is the herald
of misfortune. In _Titus Andronicus_ (Act II., Sc. 4.), Quintus and
Martius are afflicted with a sudden _dulness of sight_, which seems at
once to be an omen of impending danger, and to facilitate their
succumbing to it.
"SCENE. _A desert part of the forest._ _Enter_
AARON THE MOOR, _with_ QUINTUS _and_ MARTIUS.
_Aaron._ Come on, my lords, the better foot before:
Straight will I bring you to the loathsome pit,
Where I espied the panther fast asleep.
_Quin._ My sight is very dull, whate'er it bodes.
_Mart._ And mine, I promise you: wer't not for shame,
Well could I leave our sport to sleep awhile.
[MARTIUS _falls into the pit_.]"
It is unnecessary to give in detail the horrors that ensue.