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TRANQUILLITY appears by the composure of the countenance and general repose of the whole body, without the exertion of any one muscle. The countenance open, the forehead smooth, the eyebrows arched, the mouth just not shut, and the eyes passing with an easy motion from object to object, but not dwelling long upon any one. Cheerfulness adds a smile to tranquillity, and opens the mouth a little more.
Now, my co-mates, and brothers in exile,
Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods
MIRTH, or laughter, opens the mouth horizontally, raises the cheeks high, lessens the aperture of the eyes, and, when violent, shakes and convulses the whole frame, fills the eyes with tears, and occasions holding the sides from the pain the convulsive laughter gives them.
A FOOL,-a fool! I met a fool i' th' forest,
Who laid him down, and basked him in the sun,
And looking on it with lack-lustre eye,
RAILLERY, without animosity, puts on the aspect of cheerfulthe countenance smiling, and the tone of voice sprightly.
LET me play the fool
With mirth and laughter; so let wrinkles come,
Joy, when moderate, opens the countenance with smiles, and throws, as it were, a sunshine of delectation over the whole frame; when it is sudden and violent, it expresses itself by clapping the hands, raising the eyes towards heaven, and giving such a spring to the body as to make it attempt to mount up as if it could fly: when joy is extreme, and goes
into transport, rapture, and ecstasy, it has a wildness of look and gesture that borders on folly, madness, and sorrow.
IMOINDA, Oh! this separation
I have a thousand things to ask of her,
Have words or power to tell you. Captain, you,
I'll think you but the minister of fate
To bring me to my loved Imoinda here.
Who follow Fortune live upon her smiles,
LOVE gives a soft serenity to the countenance, a languishing to the eyes, a sweetness to the voice, and a tenderness to the whole frame; when entreating, it clasps the hands, with intermingled fingers, to the breast; when declaring, the right hand, open, is pressed with force upon the breast exactly over the heart; it makes its approaches with the utmost delicacy, and is attended with trembling, hesitation, and confusion.
WHAT you do
Still betters what is done. When you speak, sweet,
And own no other function: each your doing,
SHAKSPEARE's Winter's Tale.
PITY shows itself in a compassionate tenderness of voice; a feeling of pain in the countenance, and a gentle raising and falling of the hands and eyes, as if mourning over the unhappy object. The mouth is open, the eyebrows are drawn down, and the features contracted or drawn together.
ALAS! poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio; a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath borne me on his back a thousand times; and now how abhorred in my imagination it is; my gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your gibes now? Your gambols? Your songs? Your flashes of merriment, that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one now to mock your own grinning? Quite chop-fallen ? Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come; make her laugh at that. SHAKSPEARE'S Hamlet.
HOPE erects and brightens the countenance, spreads the arms with the hands open, as to receive the object of its wishes: the voice is plaintive, and inclining to eagerness; the breath drawn inwards more forcibly than usual, in order to express our desires the more strongly, and our earnest expectation of receiving the object of them.
O HOPE, sweet flatterer, whose delusive touch
HATRED, or aversion, draws back the body as if to avoid the hated object; the hands at the same time thrown out spread, as if to keep it off. The face is turned away from that side towards which the hands are thrown out; the eyes looking angrily, and obliquely, the same way the hands are directed;
the eyebrows are contracted, the upper-lip disdainfully drawn up, and the teeth set; the pitch of the voice is low, but loud and harsh, the tone chiding, unequal, surly, and vehement, the sentences are short and abrupt.
WHY, get thee gone! horror and night go with thee.
ANGER, when violent, expresses itself with rapidity, noise, harshness, and sometimes with interruption and hesitation, as if unable to utter with sufficient force. It wrinkles the brows, enlarges and heaves the nostrils, strains the muscles, clinches the fist, stamps with the foot, and gives a violent agitation to the whole body. The voice assumes the highest tone it can adopt consistently with force and loudness, though sometimes, to express anger with uncommon energy, the voice assumes a low and forcible tone.
WHY have those banished and forbidden legs
Comest thou because the anointed king is hence?
Were I but now the lord of such hot youth
SHAKSPEARE's Richard II.