Are merely shadows to the unseen grief Sorrow forgetful of its Intentions. Ibid. Rich. I Yet one word more ;-Grief boundeth where it falls, Not with the empty hollowness, but weight; I take my leave before I have begun, For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done. And what hear there for welcome but my groans? Grief deploring loss of Happiness. Ibid. Rich. II I had been happy, if the general camp, Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war! Grief approaching to Madness. Ibid. Othell Pand. Lady, you utter madness, and not sorrow. I am not mad; this hair I tear is mine; Ibid. King John. Grief mixed with Pity, assuming a Smile. Grief fills the room up of my absent child, Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me; Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words, Remembers me of all his gracious parts, Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form, Then have I reason to be fond of grief. Grief approaching to Distraction. Thou canst not speak of what thou dost not feel; An hour but married, Tybalt murder'd, Doating like me, and like me banished, Ibid. Then might'st thou speak, then might'st thou tear thy hair, And fall upon the ground as I do now, Taking the measure of an unmade grave. Ibid. Romeo and Juliet. Grief choking Expression. Macd. My children too! Rosse. Wife, children, servants, all that could be found! Macd. And I must be from thence! my wife kill'd too? Mal. Be comforted. Let's make us med'cines of our great revenge, To cure this deadly grief. Mal. Endure it like a man. But I must also feel it as a man. I cannot but remember such things were all? That were most precious to me : did heav'n look on, Fell slaughter on their souls: heaven rest them now. REMORSE. Ibid. Macbeth. Remorse, or a painful remembrance of criminal actions or pursuits, casts down the countenance, and clouds it with anxiety, hangs down the head, shakes it with regret, just raises the eyes as if to look up, and suddenly casts them down again with sighs; the right hand sometimes beats the breast, and the whole body writhes as with self aversion. The voice has a harshness as in hatred, and inclines to a low and reproachful tone. Keen Remorse for Drunkenness. I remember a mass of things, but nothing distinctly; a quarrel, but nothing wherefore. O that men should put an enemy in their mouths to steal away their brains! that we should with joy, pleasure, revel, and applause, transform ourselves into beasts! I will ask him for my place again; he shall tell me I am a drunkard: Had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an answer would stop them all. To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, and presently a beast! O strange! every inordinate cup is unblessed, and the ingredient is a devil. Remorse for Treachery and Ingratitude. I am alone the villain of the earth; Ibid. Othello. Thou mine of bounty, how wouldst thou have paid My better service, when my turpitude Thou dost so crown with gold! This blows my heart; Shall out-strike thought; but thought will do't I feel- Ibid. Ant. and Cleo. Reproach and Remorse for Murder of an innocent Child. Oh, when the last account 'twixt heaven and earth How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds Mads't it no conscience to destroy a prince. DESPAIR. Ibid. King John. Despair, as in a condemned criminal, or one who has lost all hope of salvation, bends the eye-brows downwards, clouds the forehead, rolls the eyes frightfully, opens the mouth horizontally, bites the lips, widens the nostrils, and gnashes the teeth. The arms are sometimes bent at the elbows, the fists clinched hard, the veins and muscles swelled, the skin livid, the whole body strained and violently agitated; while groans of inward torture are more frequently uttered than words. If any words, they are few, and expressed with a sullen eager bitterness, the tone of the voice often loud and furious, and sometimes in the same note for a considerable time. This state of human nature is too frightful to dwell upon, and almost improper for imitation; for if death cannot be counterfeited without too much shocking our humanity; despair, which exhibits a state ten thousand times 'more terrible than death, ought to be viewed with a kind of reverence to the great Author of Nature, who seems sometimes to exhibit to us this agony of mind as a warning to avoid that wickedness which produces it. Shakespeare has most exquisitely touched this fearful situation of human nature, where he draws cardinal Beaufort, after a wicked life, dying in despair, and terrified with the murder of duke Humphrey, to which he was accessary. K. Hen. How fares my lord? speak, Beaufort, to thy sove reign. Car. If thou be'st Death I'll give thee England's treasure, Enough to purchase such another island, So thou wilt let me live and feel no pain. K. Hen. Ah, what a sign it is of evil life, Dy'd he not in his bed? where should he die? I'll give a thousand pounds to look upon him.- ; K. Hen. O thou Eternal Mover of the heavens, War. See how the pangs of death do make him grin. He dies and makes no sign: O God, forgive him. Ibid. 2d Part, Henry VI. |