Chapter 64

How the mind's passions change the body by copying what resembles it — and on people being transformed or carried off, and the imagination's power over the soul as well as the body.
Quomodo passiones animi immutant corpus per modum imitationis a similitudine. Item de transformatione ac translatione hominum, et quas vires vis imaginativa non solum in corpus, sed etiam in animam obtineat.
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Latin — 1533, repaired

Passiones supradictae quandoque alterant corpus per modum imitationis, propter virtutem quam habet similitudo rei ad transmutandum, quam vehemens movet imaginatio, sicut in stupore et congelatione dentium ex visu vel auditu alicuius, vel quia videmus vel imaginamur alium comedere res acres: sic vides alium oscitare et ipse oscitas, et aliqui cum audiunt acida nominare, lingua accescit; molestia etiam tetri alicuius spectaculi gustum inficit, et provocat nauseam: quidam sanguinis humani aspectu syncopantur; nonnulli cum alicui amaris cibum afferri vident, sentiunt in ore salivam amaram. Et narrat Gulielmus Parisiensis se vidisse hominem, qui solo aspectu medicinae movebatur quoties opus erat motu expurgationis, cum nec substantia medicinae, nec sapor nec odor ipsius ad ipsum pervenisset, sed sola similitudo apprehensa. Hac ratione somniantes se ardere, vel esse in igne, quandoque cruciantur intolerabiliter, tanquam si vere arderent, cum tamen veritas et substantia ignis apud eos non sit, sed sola similitudo per imaginationem apprehensa.

Nonnunquam etiam ipsa humana corpora transformantur transfigurantur que, et transportantur, saepe quidem in somniis, nonnunquam etiam in vigilia. Sic Cippus, qui postea electus est rex Italiae, dum tauro pugna victoriaque vehementius admiratus meditatur, in illa cura obdormiens nocte, mane cornifer repertus est, hoc a liud e virtute vegetativa vehementi imaginatione stimulata, corniferos humores in caput elevante, et cornua producente. Vehemens enim cogitatio, dum species vehementer movet, in illis rei cogitatae figuram depingit, quam illi in sanguine effingunt, ille nutritis a se imprimit membris, cum propriis, tum aliquando etiam alienis: sicut imaginatio praegnantis in fetu imprimit rei desideratae notam, et imaginatio morsi a cane rabido in urinam imprimit imagines canum. Sic multi subito canescunt: alius e puero, unius noctis somnio, in virum perfectum excrevit. Huc multi etiam Dagoberti regis cicatrices, et Francisci stigmata referre volunt, dum ille correptionem vehementer timet, alter Christi vulnera vehementius contemplatur. Sic multi etiam transportantur de loco ad locum transeuntes flumina, et ignes, et loca inaccessa: quando videlicet vehementis alicuius cupiscentiae, aut timoris, vel audaciae species spiritibus impressa, vaporibus permixta, movet organum tactus in sua origine, una cum phantasia, quae motus localis principium est. Unde concitantur membra et organa motus ad motum, moveturque sine errore ad locum imaginatum, non quidem ex visu, sed ex phantasia intentore. Tanta est vis animi in corpus, ut quorsum ipsa imaginatur et somniat, ipsum corpus simul attollat atque traducat.

Legimus alia plaeraque exempla quibus vis animae in corpus cum admiratione explicatur, quale illud scribit Avicenna de quodam, qui cum vellet, corpus suum paralysi obiciebat. Narrat de Gallo Vibio, cui hoc accidit, ut in insaniam casu incideret, sed iudicio perveniret: nam dum insanos imitatur, dum ingenii lenocinio furorem putat, quae ad simulandam insaniam ficta erant, ad vera redegit. Et Augustinus refert quosdam qui aures pro arbitrio moverent, et cum immoto capite verticem totum deponerent ad frontem, revocarentque cum vellent, et alium quendam solitum sudare ubi vellet. Notum quoque est aliquos flere cum volunt, et ubertim lachrymas profundere: quosdam etiam repertos qui coria quae deglutissent, varia paulatim, tanquam de sacculo, quod placuisset proferrent.

Et hodie adhuc videmus plures, qui avium, pecorum, canum hominumque quorumque voces sic imitantur exprimuntque, ut discerni omnino non possint. Iam vero et feminas in mares mutatas fuisse, multis exemplis narrat Plinius: similia et suo tempore accidisse testatur Pontanus, de quadam muliercula Caietana, et altera quadam Aemilia, quae cum utraque nupta, post plures annos in viros mutatae sunt.

Quantum autem ipsa imaginatio possit in anima, nemo ignorat: est enim substantiae animae vicinior quam sensus, quare etiam plus agit in animam quam sensus: sic mulier per introductas certis magicis artiiciis fortes imaginationes, somnia, suggestiones, saepissime ligatur in amorem alicuius arctissimum. Sic perhibent Medeam ex solo somnio exarsisse in amorem Iasonis. Sic anima nonnunquam per vehementem imaginationem vel speculationem a corpore omnino abstrahitur, quemadmodum Celsus narrat de quodam presbytero, qui quoties collibuisset, auferebat se a sensibus et iacebat similis mortuo, ut cum pungeretur et ureretur, non sentiret ullum dolorem, iacebatque immotus et sine anhelitu: hominum tamen voces, si altius inclamassent, tanquam ex longinquo se audivisse postea referebat. Verum de his abstractionibus latius in posterioribus disseremus.

Close translation

The aforesaid passions sometimes alter the body by way of imitation, on account of the power that the likeness of a thing has to bring about transformation, which imagination, being vehement, sets in motion — as in the numbness and setting-on-edge of the teeth from seeing or hearing something, or because we see or imagine another eating sharp things: thus you see another yawn and you yawn too, and some, when they hear sour things named, their tongue goes on edge; the unpleasantness of some foul sight also taints the taste and provokes nausea: some faint at the sight of human blood; some, when they see bitter food brought to someone, feel a bitter saliva in their own mouth. And Guillaume of Paris relates that he saw a man who was moved, by the mere sight of a medicine, to the motion of purging as often as that motion was needed, although neither the substance of the medicine, nor its taste nor its smell had reached him — only the likeness apprehended. For this reason those dreaming that they are burning, or in fire, are sometimes tormented intolerably, as if they truly burned, although the reality and substance of fire is not present to them, but only the likeness apprehended through imagination.

Sometimes even human bodies themselves are transformed and transfigured, and are transported — often indeed in dreams, sometimes also while awake. Thus Cippus, who was afterward elected king of Italy, while pondering with too vehement admiration the fight and victory of a bull, falling asleep that night in that same preoccupation, was found in the morning horned — this owing to the vegetative power, stirred by vehement imagination, raising horn-bearing humors into the head and producing horns. For vehement thought, while it powerfully moves the species, depicts in them the figure of the thing thought, which figure they then imprint in the blood; and one imprints it upon the members nourished by oneself, sometimes one's own, sometimes even another's: just as the imagination of a pregnant woman imprints upon the fetus the mark of the thing desired, and the imagination of one bitten by a rabid dog imprints in his urine the images of dogs. Thus many suddenly go grey: another, from a boy, in a single night's dream, grew into a full-grown man. Here too many would refer the scars of King Dagobert, and the stigmata of Francis, since the one vehemently feared a seizure, the other more vehemently contemplated the wounds of Christ. Thus many are also transported from place to place, crossing rivers, and fires, and inaccessible places: namely when the image of some vehement desire, or fear, or boldness, impressed on the spirits and mixed with vapors, moves the organ of touch at its origin, together with the imagination, which is the principle of local motion. Whence the limbs and the organs of motion are stirred to motion, and the body moves without error to the imagined place, not indeed from sight, but from imagination straining toward it. So great is the power of the mind over the body, that wherever it imagines and dreams, it lifts up and carries the body along with it at the same time.

We read many other examples besides, by which the power of the soul over the body is explained with wonder — such as what Avicenna writes of a certain man who, whenever he wished, would afflict his own body with palsy. He relates of Gallus Vibius, to whom this happened, that he fell into madness by accident, but arrived there by his own judgment: for while imitating madmen, while by a cleverness of wit he feigned frenzy, that which was contrived to simulate madness he reduced to the real thing. And Augustine relates that certain men could move their ears at will, and, the head unmoved, could bring the whole scalp down to the forehead, and draw it back again when they wished; and another was accustomed to sweat wherever he wished. It is also known that some weep when they wish, and pour forth tears abundantly: and some have even been found who could bring up, little by little, various pieces of leather they had swallowed, as though producing them from a little bag, whatever pleased them.

And even today we still see many who so imitate and reproduce the voices of birds, of cattle, of dogs, and of whatever men, that they cannot be told apart at all. Now Pliny, moreover, relates with many examples that women have been changed into men: Pontano attests that similar things happened in his own time, concerning a certain little woman of Gaeta, and another, a certain Aemilia, both of whom, having been married, were after several years changed into men.

How much power imagination itself can have in the soul, no one is ignorant of: for it is closer to the substance of the soul than sense is, wherefore it also acts more upon the soul than sense does: thus a woman, through strong imaginations, dreams, and suggestions introduced by certain magical artifices, is very often bound into the closest love for someone. Thus they relate that Medea was inflamed into love of Jason from a dream alone. Thus the soul is sometimes, through vehement imagination or contemplation, wholly withdrawn from the body, as Celsus relates of a certain priest, who, as often as it pleased him, would withdraw himself from his senses and lie like one dead, so that when pricked and burned he felt no pain at all, and lay motionless and without breath: yet he would afterward report that he had heard men's voices, if they had called out loudly, as though from far off. But of these withdrawals we shall discuss more fully in what follows.

Modern rendering

The passions just described sometimes change the body purely by imitation — because a likeness of something has real power to transform, and a strong imagination sets that power in motion. That's why you go numb or your teeth are set on edge just from seeing or hearing something, or from watching — or even picturing — someone else eat something sharp; it's why you yawn when you see someone else yawn, why some people's tongues pucker just hearing the word "sour," why a disgusting sight can spoil your sense of taste and bring on nausea, why some people faint at the sight of human blood, and why some feel a bitter taste in their own mouth just watching someone else being served something bitter. Guillaume of Paris says he once saw a man who would start the motions of purging himself merely at the sight of a laxative — before the substance, taste, or smell of it had reached him at all; the mere impression of likeness was enough. This is also why people dreaming they're burning, or on fire, are sometimes tormented as unbearably as if they really were burning — even though there's no actual fire present, only the impression the imagination has formed.

Sometimes human bodies are actually transformed, reshaped, even carried elsewhere — often in dreams, sometimes even while awake. Cippus, who was later elected king of Italy, spent an evening so absorbed in admiring a bullfight and its victor that, falling asleep still turning it over in his mind, he woke the next morning grown horns — because his formative bodily power, stirred by such a vivid image, drove horn-forming fluids up into his head and produced actual horns. A powerful thought, when it stirs the mental image strongly enough, stamps the shape of what's being thought about into those images, and the person then imprints that shape into their own blood and from there into the body parts they nourish — sometimes their own body, sometimes even someone else's. This is the same mechanism by which a pregnant woman's cravings mark the fetus with a sign of the thing she craved, and by which someone bitten by a rabid dog gets images of dogs showing up in his urine. It's why some people suddenly go grey, and why one boy is said to have grown into a full-grown man overnight, in a single dream. Many trace King Dagobert's scars and Francis's stigmata to the same cause — one man's terror of a seizure, the other's intense meditation on Christ's wounds. Some are even transported from place to place, crossing rivers, fires, and otherwise impassable ground: when the mental image of some overpowering desire, fear, or boldness, stamped onto the vital spirits and mixed with their vapors, activates the sense of touch at its very root, together with the imagination — which is what drives bodily motion in the first place. That sets the limbs and the muscles of motion moving, and the body travels unerringly to the place imagined — not because it was seen, but because the imagination was fixed on it. The mind's power over the body is so great that wherever it imagines or dreams itself to be, it can lift the body and carry it right along with it.

There are plenty of other astonishing examples of the soul's power over the body. Avicenna writes of a man who could bring on paralysis in his own body whenever he chose. He tells of a certain Gallus Vibius, who fell into actual madness — but got there deliberately: imitating madmen so cleverly, playing at frenzy so skillfully, that what he'd staged as a performance of insanity turned into the real thing. Augustine reports men who could move their ears at will, and, without moving their heads, could pull the whole scalp down over the forehead and back again whenever they liked; and another man who could sweat on command. It's also well known that some people can cry on demand, tears and all; and some have even been found who could bring up, bit by bit, pieces of leather they'd swallowed — pulling them out as if from a little bag, whichever piece they wanted.

Even today we see plenty of people who imitate the calls of birds, livestock, dogs, and other people so perfectly that you genuinely can't tell the difference. Pliny gives many examples of women changed into men; Pontano attests that similar things happened in his own lifetime — a woman from Gaeta, and another named Aemilia — both of whom, having been married, were changed into men after several years.

No one doubts how much power imagination itself has over the soul: it sits closer to the soul's own substance than the senses do, and so it affects the soul even more than the senses can. That's why a woman, through powerful imaginings, dreams, or suggestions planted by certain magical techniques, is very often bound into an intense love for someone. Medea, they say, was inflamed with love for Jason from a dream alone. And sometimes the soul is pulled entirely out of the body through sheer force of imagination or contemplation — as Celsus tells of a priest who could, whenever he wished, withdraw from his senses and lie like a dead man, so that pricking or burning him produced no pain at all, and he lay motionless and without breath — though he would later report having heard men's voices, if they had shouted loudly, as if from a great distance. We'll take up these states of withdrawal more fully later on.

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