PART V.PHYSIOLOGY.

Mr. Hackett, noticing the numerous allusions in Shakespeare to the blood, and to a circulation of this fluid to and from the heart or the liver, was led, in 1859, to express the absurd idea that William Shakespeare had anticipated Harvey in the discovery of the circulation of the blood.

“What damned error, but some sober browWill bless it, and approve it with a text.”

Mr. Hackett found many thoughts in Shakespeare concerning the circulation which were applicable to Harvey’s theory.

See, how the blood is settled in his face!Oft have I seen a timely-parted ghost,Of ashy semblance, meagre, pale and bloodless,Being all descended to the labouring heart;Who, in the conflict that it holds with death,Attracts the same for aidance ’gainst the enemy;Which with the heart there cools, and ne’er returnethTo blush and beautify the cheek again.Henry VI—2d., Act III., Sc. II.You are * * * *As dear to me as are the ruddy dropsThat visit my sad heart.Julius Cæsar, Act II., Sc. I.Why does my blood thus muster to my heart,Making both it unable for itself,And dispossessing all my other partsOf necessary fitness?Measure far Measure, Act II., Sc. IV.My heart drops blood.Cymbeline, Act V., Sc. V.I am sure my heart wept blood.Winter’s Tale, Act V., Sc. II.These words of yours draw life-blood from my heart.Henry VI., Act IV., Sc. VI.The blood weeps from my heart.Henry IV—2d, Act IV., Sc. IV.I send it through the rivers of your blood,Even to the court, the heart—to the seat o’ the brain;And, through the cranks and offices of man,The strongest nerves and small inferior veins,From me receive that natural competencyWhereby they live.Coriolanus, Act I., Sc. I.The tide of blood in meHath proudly flow’d in vanity, till now;Now doth it turn, and ebb back to the sea,Where it shall mingle with the state of floods,And flow henceforth in formal majesty.Henry IV—2d, Act V., Sc. II.The spring, the head, the fountain of your bloodIs stopp’d; the very source of it is stopped.Macbeth, Act II., Sc. II.——my heart, * * *The fountain from the which my current runs,Or else dries up.Othello, Act IV., Sc. II.I cannot restUntil the white rose that I wear, be dy’dEven in the lukewarm blood of Henry’s heart.Henry VI—3d, Act I., Sc. II.Snakes, in my heart-blood warm’d, that sting my heart!Richard II., Act III. Sc. II.Thy heart-blood I will have for this day’s work.Henry VI., Act I., Sc. III.Thou wouldst have left thy dearest heart-blood there,Rather than have made that savage duke thine heir.Henry VI—3d, Act I., Sc. I.Her blue blood changed to black in every vein,Wanting the spring that those shrunk pipes had fed,Show’d life imprison’d in a body dead.Lucrece.Corrupted blood some watery token shows;And blood untainted still doth red abide,Blushing at that which is so putrefied.Lucrece.Even here she sheathed in her harmless breastA harmful knife, * * * * * *And bubbling from her breast, it doth divideIn two slow rivers, that the crimson bloodCircles her body in on every side, * * *Some of her blood still pure and red remain’d,And some look’d black.Lucrece.But are you flesh and blood?Have you a working pulse?Pericles, Act V., Sc. I.I drink the air before me, and returnOr e’er your pulse twice beat.Tempest, Act V., Sc. I.My pulse as yours doth temperately keep time,And makes as healthful music.Hamlet, Act III., Sc. IV.Your pulsidge beats as extraordinarily as heartwould desire.Henry IV—2d, Act II., Sc. IV.Even as my life, or blood that fosters it.Pericles, Act II., Sc. V.Swill as quicksilver it courses throughThe natural gates and alleys of the body.Hamlet, Act I., Sc. V.

You are * * * *As dear to me as are the ruddy dropsThat visit my sad heart.Julius Cæsar, Act II., Sc. I.

Why does my blood thus muster to my heart,Making both it unable for itself,And dispossessing all my other partsOf necessary fitness?Measure far Measure, Act II., Sc. IV.

My heart drops blood.Cymbeline, Act V., Sc. V.

I am sure my heart wept blood.Winter’s Tale, Act V., Sc. II.

These words of yours draw life-blood from my heart.Henry VI., Act IV., Sc. VI.

The blood weeps from my heart.Henry IV—2d, Act IV., Sc. IV.

I send it through the rivers of your blood,Even to the court, the heart—to the seat o’ the brain;And, through the cranks and offices of man,The strongest nerves and small inferior veins,From me receive that natural competencyWhereby they live.Coriolanus, Act I., Sc. I.

The tide of blood in meHath proudly flow’d in vanity, till now;Now doth it turn, and ebb back to the sea,Where it shall mingle with the state of floods,And flow henceforth in formal majesty.Henry IV—2d, Act V., Sc. II.

The spring, the head, the fountain of your bloodIs stopp’d; the very source of it is stopped.Macbeth, Act II., Sc. II.

——my heart, * * *The fountain from the which my current runs,Or else dries up.Othello, Act IV., Sc. II.

I cannot restUntil the white rose that I wear, be dy’dEven in the lukewarm blood of Henry’s heart.Henry VI—3d, Act I., Sc. II.

Snakes, in my heart-blood warm’d, that sting my heart!Richard II., Act III. Sc. II.

Thy heart-blood I will have for this day’s work.Henry VI., Act I., Sc. III.

Thou wouldst have left thy dearest heart-blood there,Rather than have made that savage duke thine heir.Henry VI—3d, Act I., Sc. I.

Her blue blood changed to black in every vein,Wanting the spring that those shrunk pipes had fed,Show’d life imprison’d in a body dead.Lucrece.

Corrupted blood some watery token shows;And blood untainted still doth red abide,Blushing at that which is so putrefied.Lucrece.

Even here she sheathed in her harmless breastA harmful knife, * * * * * *And bubbling from her breast, it doth divideIn two slow rivers, that the crimson bloodCircles her body in on every side, * * *Some of her blood still pure and red remain’d,And some look’d black.Lucrece.

But are you flesh and blood?Have you a working pulse?Pericles, Act V., Sc. I.

I drink the air before me, and returnOr e’er your pulse twice beat.Tempest, Act V., Sc. I.

My pulse as yours doth temperately keep time,And makes as healthful music.Hamlet, Act III., Sc. IV.

Your pulsidge beats as extraordinarily as heartwould desire.Henry IV—2d, Act II., Sc. IV.

Even as my life, or blood that fosters it.Pericles, Act II., Sc. V.

Swill as quicksilver it courses throughThe natural gates and alleys of the body.Hamlet, Act I., Sc. V.

Shakespeare died in 1610. Harvey first published his theory in 1619. It must be remembered that at this time many ideas were afloat concerning the circulation. Among the older theories were those of Hippocrates, Praxagoras, and Erasistratus, who held that the arteries contained air, and that, therefore, theveinswere theonlyblood-holding vessels, and that they had their origin in the liver. Galen, the most celebrated of ancient medical writers, who lived as early as 150 A. D. taught that the left ventricle of the heart was the common origin of all arteries, and that the arteries of living animals contained blood,notair; but he did not advance with his studies so as to learn in what direction the blood flowed, or whether it was movable or stationary. Thedistinguished Michael Servetus, who was burned with his books, by order of Calvin, in 1553, taught that the blood flowed from the right ventricle, through the pulmonary artery to the lungs, and thence through the pulmonary vein and left auricle into the corresponding ventricle from which it was conveyed by the aorta to all parts of the body. Dr. Bucknill is of the opinion that Shakespeare followed Hippocrates in his theory that the veins were the only blood vessels and that they came from the liver. It is very evident, from the many allusions given below, that he did at different periods adhere to this belief.

Let my liver rather heat with wine,Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.Merchant of Venice, Act I., Sc. I.For Andrew, if he were opened, and you find so much bloodin his liver as will clog the foot of a flea, I’ll eat the restof the anatomy.Twelfth Night, Act III., Sc. II.I’ll empty all these veins,And shed my dear blood drop by drop.Henry IV., Act I., Sc. III.I’ll have more livesThan drops of blood were in my father’s veins.Henry VI—3d, Act I., Sc. I.Let me haveA dram of poison; such soon-speeding gearAs will disperse itself through all the veins.Romeo and Juliet, Act V., Sc. I.I freely told you, all the wealth I hadRan in my veinsMerchant of Venice, Act III., Sc. II.The blood and courage that renowned them,Runs in your veins.Henry V., Act I., Sc. II.——through all thy veins shall runA cold and drowsy humour, which shall seizeEach vital spirit; for no pulse shall keepHis natural progress but surcease to beat.Romeo and Juliet, Act IV., Sc. I.There is * * * * *Scarce blood enough in all their sickly veins.Henry V., Act IV., Sc. II.My blood speaks to you in my veins.Merchant of Venice, Act III., Sc. II.While warm life plays in that infant’s veins.King John, Act III., Sc. IV.Had bak’d thy blood, and made it heavy thick,Which, else, runs tickling up and down the veins.King John, Act III., Sc. III.’Tis thy presence that exhales this bloodFrom cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells.Richard III., Act I., Sc. II.Stuff’d within with bloody veins.Pericles, Act I., Sc. IV.For every false drop in her bawdy veinsA Grecian’s life hath sunk.Troilus and Cressida, Act IV., Sc. I.If so thou yield him, there is gold, and hereMy bluest veins to kiss.Antony and Cleopatra, Act II., Sc. V.That those veinsDid verily bear blood.Winter’s Tale, Act V., Sc. III.The veins unfill’d, our blood is cold.Coriolanus, Act V., Sc. I.I have a faint cold, fear thrills through my veinsThat almost freezes up the heat of life.Romeo and Juliet, Act IV., Sc. III.——purple fountains issuing from your veins.Romeo and Juliet, Act I., Sc. I.

Let my liver rather heat with wine,Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.Merchant of Venice, Act I., Sc. I.

For Andrew, if he were opened, and you find so much bloodin his liver as will clog the foot of a flea, I’ll eat the restof the anatomy.Twelfth Night, Act III., Sc. II.

I’ll empty all these veins,And shed my dear blood drop by drop.Henry IV., Act I., Sc. III.

I’ll have more livesThan drops of blood were in my father’s veins.Henry VI—3d, Act I., Sc. I.

Let me haveA dram of poison; such soon-speeding gearAs will disperse itself through all the veins.Romeo and Juliet, Act V., Sc. I.

I freely told you, all the wealth I hadRan in my veinsMerchant of Venice, Act III., Sc. II.

The blood and courage that renowned them,Runs in your veins.Henry V., Act I., Sc. II.

——through all thy veins shall runA cold and drowsy humour, which shall seizeEach vital spirit; for no pulse shall keepHis natural progress but surcease to beat.Romeo and Juliet, Act IV., Sc. I.

There is * * * * *Scarce blood enough in all their sickly veins.Henry V., Act IV., Sc. II.

My blood speaks to you in my veins.Merchant of Venice, Act III., Sc. II.

While warm life plays in that infant’s veins.King John, Act III., Sc. IV.

Had bak’d thy blood, and made it heavy thick,Which, else, runs tickling up and down the veins.King John, Act III., Sc. III.

’Tis thy presence that exhales this bloodFrom cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells.Richard III., Act I., Sc. II.

Stuff’d within with bloody veins.Pericles, Act I., Sc. IV.

For every false drop in her bawdy veinsA Grecian’s life hath sunk.Troilus and Cressida, Act IV., Sc. I.

If so thou yield him, there is gold, and hereMy bluest veins to kiss.Antony and Cleopatra, Act II., Sc. V.

That those veinsDid verily bear blood.Winter’s Tale, Act V., Sc. III.

The veins unfill’d, our blood is cold.Coriolanus, Act V., Sc. I.

I have a faint cold, fear thrills through my veinsThat almost freezes up the heat of life.Romeo and Juliet, Act IV., Sc. III.

——purple fountains issuing from your veins.Romeo and Juliet, Act I., Sc. I.

The arteries or “air pipes” were supposed, according to this theory of Hippocrates, to contain an ærial fluid.

These pipes and these conveyances of our blood.Coriolanus, Act V., Sc. I.Universal plodding poisons upThe nimble spirits in the arteries.Love’s Labour’s Lost, Act IV., Sc. III.My fate cries out,And makes each petty artery in this bodyAs hardy as the Nemean lion’s nerve.Hamlet, Act I., Sc. IV.

These pipes and these conveyances of our blood.Coriolanus, Act V., Sc. I.

Universal plodding poisons upThe nimble spirits in the arteries.Love’s Labour’s Lost, Act IV., Sc. III.

My fate cries out,And makes each petty artery in this bodyAs hardy as the Nemean lion’s nerve.Hamlet, Act I., Sc. IV.

It is more reasonable to suppose that Shakespeare did not tie himself down to any one theory concerning the circulation, but that sometimes he had in mind the theory of Michael Servetus, (to which all the heart allusions will apply), and at other times that of Hippocrates, (which accounts for all the thoughts regarding the liver as the propeller of the blood through the veins). The immortal Harvey was the first to point out the true idea of the circulation: the idea that the blood was forced by the heart through the arteries, a pure live-supporting fluid; that it went to the extreme parts of the body, giving nutriment, taking up impurities, and then returning by way of the veins to the heart,—thence to the lungs to be purified before being again sent out on it’s life-sustaining journey. None of the quotations from Shakespeare express this idea, excepting perhaps one, and that rather vaguely.

We can not believe, however that he possessed the knowledge of Harvey’s theory, and can only say in his own words:

There is no vice so simple, but assumesSome mark of virtue on it’s outward parts.

The physiology of the digestive system is excellently described in Coriolanus.

Men.There was a time, when all the body’s membersRebell’d against the belly; thus accus’d it:That only like a gulf it did remainI’ the midst o’ the body, idle and unactive,Still cupboarding the viand, never bearingLike labour with the rest, where the other instrumentsDid see, and hear, devise, instruct, walk, feel,And mutually participate, did ministerUnto the appetite and affection commonOf the whole body. The belly answer’d* * * * with a kind of smile,Which ne’er came from the lungs, but even thus,For, look you, I may make the belly smile,As well as speak,—it tauntingly repliedTo the discontented members, the mutinous partsThat envied his receipt. * * *

1st Cit.Your belly’s answer? What!The kingly-crown’d head, the vigilant eye,The counsellor heart, the arm our soldier,Our steed the leg, the tongue our trumpeter,With other muniments and petty helpsIn this our fabric, if that they * * *Should, by the cormorant belly be restrain’d,Who is the sink o’ the body.

Men.True it is, quoth the belly,That I receive the general food at first,Which you do live upon; and fit it is,Because I am the store house and the shopOf the whole body: but if you do remember,I send it through the rivers of your blood,Even to the court, the heart—to the seat o’ the brain;And, through the cranks and offices of man,The strongest nerves and small inferior veins,From me receive that natural competencyWhereby they live.Act I., Sc. I.For your digestion’s sakeAn after-dinner speech.Troilus and Cressida, Act II., Sc. III.To make our appetites more keen,With eager compounds we our palate urge.Sonnets, CXVIII.My cheese, my digestion.Troilus and Cressida, Act II., Sc. III.I say, whatever you maintainOf Alma in the heart or brain,The plainest man alive may tell yeHer seat of empire is the belly.From hence she sends out those suppliesWhich make us either stout or wise;Your stomach makes the fabric rollJust as the bias rules the bowl.The great Achilles might employThe strength designed to ruin Troy;He dined on lion’s marrow, spreadOn toast of ammunition bread;But by his mother sent awayAmongst the Thracian girls to play,Effeminate he sat and quiet—Strange product of a cheese-cake diet!Was ever Tartar fierce or cruelUpon the strength of water-gruel?But who shall stand his rage or forceIf first he rides, then eats his horse?Salads and eggs, and lighter fare,Tunes the Italian spark’s guitar;And, if I take Dan Congrieve right,Pudding and beef make Britons fight.Tokay and coffee cause this workBetween the German and the Turk:And both, as they provisions want,Chicane, avoid, retire, and faint.

For your digestion’s sakeAn after-dinner speech.Troilus and Cressida, Act II., Sc. III.

To make our appetites more keen,With eager compounds we our palate urge.Sonnets, CXVIII.

My cheese, my digestion.Troilus and Cressida, Act II., Sc. III.

I say, whatever you maintainOf Alma in the heart or brain,The plainest man alive may tell yeHer seat of empire is the belly.From hence she sends out those suppliesWhich make us either stout or wise;Your stomach makes the fabric rollJust as the bias rules the bowl.The great Achilles might employThe strength designed to ruin Troy;He dined on lion’s marrow, spreadOn toast of ammunition bread;But by his mother sent awayAmongst the Thracian girls to play,Effeminate he sat and quiet—Strange product of a cheese-cake diet!Was ever Tartar fierce or cruelUpon the strength of water-gruel?But who shall stand his rage or forceIf first he rides, then eats his horse?Salads and eggs, and lighter fare,Tunes the Italian spark’s guitar;And, if I take Dan Congrieve right,Pudding and beef make Britons fight.Tokay and coffee cause this workBetween the German and the Turk:And both, as they provisions want,Chicane, avoid, retire, and faint.

But, spoil the organ of digestion,And you entirely change the question:Alma’s affairs no power can mend;The jest, alas! is at an end. * * *Prior.

A few remaining physiological thoughts are interesting. As is well known, we are much better able to judge the size and distance of objects on the same level with us than we are when they are either above or below us. When we view objects from a height they appear much less than they would were we at the same distance from them on the same level. Shakespeare has beautifully shown this effect in King Lear.

How fearfulAnd dizzy ’tis, to cast one’s eyes so low!The crows, and choughs, that wing the midway air,Show scarce so gross as beetles. Half way downHangs one that gathers samphire; dreadful trade!Methinks, he seems no bigger than his head:The fishermen that walk upon the beach,Appear like mice. * * * *Act IV., Sc. VI.

The subject of pupillary reflexes has received mention by many of the older writers. It was a source of amusement to lovers in the old time to look into each others eyes in search of their own reflection.

Joy had the like conception in our eyes,And, at that instant, like a babe, sprung up.Timon of Athens, Act I., Sc. II.Look in my eyes, my blushing fair,Thou’lt see thyself reflected there;As I gaze on thine, I seeTwo little miniatures of me.Thus in our looks some propagation lies,For we make babies in each other’s eyes.Tom Moore.When a young lady wrings you by the hand, thus,Or with an amorous touch presses your foot;Looks babies in your eyes, plays with your locks.

Joy had the like conception in our eyes,And, at that instant, like a babe, sprung up.Timon of Athens, Act I., Sc. II.

Look in my eyes, my blushing fair,Thou’lt see thyself reflected there;As I gaze on thine, I seeTwo little miniatures of me.Thus in our looks some propagation lies,For we make babies in each other’s eyes.Tom Moore.

When a young lady wrings you by the hand, thus,Or with an amorous touch presses your foot;Looks babies in your eyes, plays with your locks.

Massinger—Renegado. Act II., Sc. IV.

It has been a view long held that the height of the forehead is an index of the intellectual character of the individual. Shakespeare has referred to this in several plays.

We shall lose our time,And all be turn’d to barnacles, or to apes,With foreheads villainous low.Tempest, Act IV., Sc. I.Ay, but her forehead’s low, as mine’s as high.Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act IV., Sc. IV.Cleopatra.Bear’st thou her face in mind? is’t long or round?Messenger.Round, even to faultiness.Cleopatra.For the most part too,They are foolish that are so. Her hair, what colour?Messenger.Brown, madame, and her foreheadAs low as you would wish it.Antony and Cleopatra, Act III., Sc. III.

We shall lose our time,And all be turn’d to barnacles, or to apes,With foreheads villainous low.Tempest, Act IV., Sc. I.

Ay, but her forehead’s low, as mine’s as high.Two Gentlemen of Verona, Act IV., Sc. IV.

Cleopatra.Bear’st thou her face in mind? is’t long or round?Messenger.Round, even to faultiness.Cleopatra.For the most part too,They are foolish that are so. Her hair, what colour?Messenger.Brown, madame, and her foreheadAs low as you would wish it.Antony and Cleopatra, Act III., Sc. III.

The old superstition that much hair on the head indicated a want of intellect is alluded to in Two Gentlemen of Verona.

Speed.Item,she hath more hair than wit.Laun.More hair than wit,—it may be; I’ll prove it: the cover of the salthides the salt, and therefore it is more than the salt; the hair thatcovers the wit is more than the wit; for the greater hides the less.Act III., Sc. I.Ant. S.Why is Time such a niggard of hair, being, as it is,so plentiful an excrement?Dro. S.Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts;and what he hath scanted men in hair he hath giventhem in wit.Ant. S.Why, but there’s many a man hath more hair than wit.Dro. S.Not a man of those but he hath the wit to losehis hair.Ant. S.Why, thou did’st conclude hairy men plain dealerswithout wit.Comedy of Errors, Act II., Sc. II.This great voluminous pamphlet may be saidTo be like one that hath more hair than head;More excrement than body: trees which sproutWith broadest leaves have still the smallest fruit.Suckling—Aglaura.

Ant. S.Why is Time such a niggard of hair, being, as it is,so plentiful an excrement?Dro. S.Because it is a blessing that he bestows on beasts;and what he hath scanted men in hair he hath giventhem in wit.Ant. S.Why, but there’s many a man hath more hair than wit.Dro. S.Not a man of those but he hath the wit to losehis hair.Ant. S.Why, thou did’st conclude hairy men plain dealerswithout wit.Comedy of Errors, Act II., Sc. II.

This great voluminous pamphlet may be saidTo be like one that hath more hair than head;More excrement than body: trees which sproutWith broadest leaves have still the smallest fruit.Suckling—Aglaura.

He had some idea of the sympathetic connection between the organs of the body, and has furnished us with a good example of superstition connected with sympathy. It was an old superstition that the wounds of a murdered person would bleed afresh if the body was touched by the murderer, and this has nicely been brought out in Richard III.

O, gentlemen, see, see! dead Henry’s woundsOpen their congeal’d mouths and bleed afresh!Blush, blush, thou lump of foul deformity;For ’tis thy presence that exhales this bloodFrom cold and empty veins, where no blood dwells,Thy deed, inhuman and unnatural,Provokes this deluge most unnatural.Act I., Sc. II.

Dunglison explains these superstitions “either on purely physical principles, or on the excited imagination of the observer,” and cites two interesting cases—one attested by John Demarest, coroner of Bergen county, New Jersey, (1767), and the other which occurred near Easton, Pennsylvania. Of the latter case he says: “The superstition has, indeed, its believers among us. On the trial of Getter, who was executed about five years ago (1833) in Pennsylvania, for the murder of his wife, a female witness deposed on oath as follows: ‘If my throat was to be cut, I could tell, before God Almighty, that the deceased smiled when he (the murderer) touched her. I swore this before the justices, and that she bled considerably. I was sent for to dress her and lay her out. He touched her twice. He made no hesitation about doing it. I also swore before the justice that it was observed by other people in the house.’” Dyer cites a number of similar cases, and quotes the following as a supposed cause of the phenomenon from the “Athenian Oracle,” (1-106): “The blood is congealed in the body for two or three days, and then becomes liquid again, in its tendency to corruption. The air being heated by many persons coming about the body is the same thing to it as motion is. ’Tis observed that dead bodies will bleed in a concourse of people, when murderers are absent as well as present, yet legislators have thought it fit to authorize it, and use this trial as an argument, at least to frighten, though ’tis no conclusive one to condemn them.” The practice, however, caused many an innocent spectator to receive the fatal penalty.

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