Folk-lore of Shakespeare Part 48

"Would curses kill, as doth the mandrake's groan, I would invent," etc.

And Juliet ("Romeo and Juliet," iv. 3) speaks of

"shrieks like mandrakes' torn out of the earth, That living mortals, hearing them, run mad."

To escape this danger, it was recommended to tie one end of a string to the plant and the other to a dog, upon whom the fatal groan would discharge its whole malignity. The ancients, it appears, were equally superst.i.tious with regard to this mysterious plant, and Columella, in his directions for the site of gardens, says they may be formed where

"the mandrake's flowers Produce, whose root shows half a man, whose juice With madness strikes."

Pliny[527] informs us that those who dug up this plant paid particular attention to stand so that the wind was at their back; and, before they began to dig, they made three circles round the plant with the point of the sword, and then, proceeding to the west, commenced digging it up. It seems to have been well known as an opiate in the time of Shakespeare, who makes Iago say in "Oth.e.l.lo" (iii. 3):

"Not poppy, nor mandragora, Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world, Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep Which thou ow'dst yesterday."

[527] "Natural History," bk. xxv. chap. 94.

In "Antony and Cleopatra" (i. 5), the queen pathetically says:

"Give me to drink mandragora.

_Char._ Why, madam?

_Cleo._ That I might sleep out this great gap of time, My Antony is away."

Lyte, in his translation of "Dodoens" (1578), p. 438, tells us that "the leaves and fruit be also dangerous, for they cause deadly sleepe, and peevish drowsiness, like opium." It was sometimes regarded as an emblem of incontinence, as in "2 Henry IV." (iii. 2): "yet lecherous as a monkey, and the wh.o.r.es called him-mandrake." A very diminutive figure was, too, often compared to a mandrake. In "2 Henry IV." (i. 2), Falstaff says: "Thou wh.o.r.eson mandrake, thou art fitter to be worn in my cap, than to wait at my heels." Tracing back the history of this plant into far-distant times, it is generally believed that it is the same as that which the ancient Hebrews called Dudain.[528] That these people held it in the highest esteem in the days of Jacob is evident from its having been found by Reuben, who carried the plant to his mother; and the inducement which tempted Leah to part with it proves the value then set upon this celebrated plant. According to a curious superst.i.tion, this plant was thought to possess the properties of making childless wives become mothers, and hence, some suppose, Rachel became so desirous of possessing the mandrakes which Reuben had found. Among the many other items of folk-lore a.s.sociated with the mandrake, there is one which informs us that "it is perpetually watched over by Satan, and if it be pulled up at certain holy times, and with certain invocations, the evil spirit will appear to do the bidding of the pract.i.tioner."[529] In comparatively recent times, quacks and impostors counterfeited with the root briony figures resembling parts of the human body, which were sold to the credulous as endued with specific virtues.[530] The Germans, too, equally superst.i.tious, formed little idols of the roots of the mandrake, which were regularly dressed every day, and consulted as oracles-their repute being such that they were manufactured in great numbers, and sold in cases. They were, also, imported into this country during the time of Henry VIII., it being pretended that they would, with the a.s.sistance of some mystic words, increase whatever money was placed near them. In order, too, to enhance the value of these so-called miracle-workers, it was said that the roots of this plant were produced from the flesh of criminals which fell from the gibbet, and that it only grew in such a situation.[531]

[528] Phillips's "Flora Historica," 1829, vol. i. pp. 324, 325; see Smith's "Dictionary of the Bible," 1869, vol. ii. p. 1777.

[529] "Mystic Trees and Flowers," by M. D. Conway; _Fraser's Magazine_, 1870, vol. ii. p. 705.

[530] Singer's "Shakespeare," 1875, vol. v. p. 153.

[531] See Sir Thomas Browne's "Vulgar Errors," 1852, vol. ii. p. 6.

_Marigold._ This flower was a great favorite with our old writers, from a curious notion that it always opened or shut its flowers at the sun's bidding; in allusion to which Perdita remarks, in "Winter's Tale" (iv.

3):

"The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun, And with him rises weeping."

It was also said, but erroneously, to turn its flowers to the sun, a quality attributed to the sunflower (_Helianthus annuus_), and thus described by Moore:

"The sunflower turns on her G.o.d when he sets The same look which she turn'd when he rose."

A popular name for the marigold was "mary-bud," mention of which we find in "Cymbeline" (ii. 3):

"winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes."

_Medlar._ This fruit, which Shakespeare describes as only fit to be eaten when rotten, is applied by Lucio to a woman of loose character, as in "Measure for Measure" (iv. 3): "they would else have married me to the rotten medlar."

Chaucer, in the "Reeve's Prologue," applies the same name to it:

"That ilke fruit is ever lenger the wers, Till it be roten in mullok, or in stre.

We olde men, I drede, so faren we, Till we be roten can we not be ripe."

_Mistletoe._ This plant, which, from the earliest times, has been an object of interest to naturalists, on account of its curious growth, deriving its subsistence entirely from the branch to which it annexes itself, has been the subject of widespread superst.i.tion. In "t.i.tus Andronicus" (ii. 3), Tamora describes it in the graphic pa.s.sage below as the "baleful mistletoe," an epithet which, as Mr. Douce observes, is extremely appropriate, either conformably to an ancient, but erroneous, opinion, that the berries of the mistletoe were poisonous, or on account of the use made of this plant by the Druids during their detestable human sacrifices.[532]

"_Demetrius._ How now, dear sovereign, and our gracious mother, Why doth your highness look so pale and wan?

_Tamora._ Have I not reason, think you, to look pale?

These two have 'tic'd me hither to this place:- A barren detested vale, you see, it is; The trees, though summer, yet forlorn and lean, O'ercome with moss and baleful mistletoe: Here never s.h.i.+nes the sun; here nothing breeds, Unless the nightly owl, or fatal raven."

[532] "Ill.u.s.trations of Shakespeare," p. 386.

_Mushroom._ Besides his notice of the mushroom in the following pa.s.sages, Shakespeare alludes to the fairy rings[533] which are formed by fungi, though, as Mr. Ellacombe[534] points out, he probably knew little of this. In "The Tempest" (v. 1), Prospero says of the fairies:

"you demi-puppets, that By moons.h.i.+ne do the green-sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites; and you, whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms;"

the allusion in this pa.s.sage being to the superst.i.tion that sheep will not eat the gra.s.s that grows on fairy rings.

[533] See page 15.

[534] "Plant-Lore of Shakespeare," p. 131.

_Mustard._ Tewksbury mustard, to which reference is made in "2 Henry IV." (ii. 4), where Falstaff speaks of "wit as thick as Tewksbury mustard," was formerly very famous. Shakespeare speaks only of its thickness, but others have celebrated its pungency. Coles, writing in 1657, says: "In Gloucesters.h.i.+re, about Teuxbury, they grind mustard and make it into b.a.l.l.s, which are brought to London, and other remote places, as being the best that the world affords."

_Narcissus._ The old legend attached to this flower is mentioned by Emilia in "The Two n.o.ble Kinsmen" (ii. 1):

"That was a fair boy certain, but a fool, To love himself; were there not maids enough?"

_Nutmeg._ A gilt nutmeg was formerly a common gift at Christmas and on other festive occasions, a notice of which occurs in "Love's Labour's Lost" (v. 2), in the following dialogue:[535]

"_Armado._ 'The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty, Gave Hector a gift,-'

_Dumain._ A gilt nutmeg."

[535] Nares's "Glossary," vol. ii. p. 612.

_Oak._ A crown of oak was considered by the Romans worthy of the highest emulation of statesmen and warriors. To him who had saved the life of a Roman soldier was given a crown of oak-leaves; one, indeed, which was accounted more honorable than any other. In "Coriola.n.u.s" (ii. 1), Volumnia says: "he comes the third time home with the oaken garland."

And again (i. 3): "To a cruel war I sent him; from whence he returned, his brows bound with oak." Montesquieu, indeed, said that it was with two or three hundred crowns of oak that Rome conquered the world.

Although so much historical and legendary lore have cl.u.s.tered round the oak, yet scarcely any mention is made of this by Shakespeare. The legend of Herne the Hunter, which seems to have been current at Windsor, is several times alluded to, as, for instance, in "Merry Wives of Windsor"

(iv. 4):

"_Mrs. Page._ There is an old tale goes, that Herne the hunter, Sometime a keeper here in Windsor forest, Doth all the winter time, at still midnight, Walk round about an oak, with great ragg'd horns.

_Page._ ... there want not many, that do fear In deep of night to walk by this Herne's oak."

Herne's Oak, so long an object of much curiosity and enthusiasm, is now no more. According to one theory, the old tree was blown down August 31, 1863; and a young oak was planted by her Majesty, September 12, 1863, to mark the spot where Herne's Oak stood.[536] Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps, however, tells us, "the general opinion is that it was accidentally destroyed in the year 1796, through an order of George III. to the bailiff Robinson, that all the unsightly trees in the vicinity of the castle should be removed; an opinion confirmed by a well-established fact, that a person named Grantham, who contracted with the bailiff for the removal of the trees, fell into disgrace with the king for having included the oak in his gatherings."[537]