PRESENTIMENT.
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 cœur 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.
X. Z.