Folk-lore of Shakespeare Part 49

[536] See "Windsor Guide," p. 5.

[537] See "Notes and Queries," 3d series, vol. xii. p. 160.

_Olive._ This plant, ever famous from its a.s.sociation with the return of the dove to the ark, has been considered typical of peace. It was as an emblem of peace that a garland of olive was given to Judith when she restored peace to the Israelites by the death of Holofernes (Judith, xv.

13). It was equally honored by Greeks and Romans. It is, too, in this sense that Shakespeare speaks of it when he makes Viola, in "Twelfth Night" (i. 5), say: "I bring no overture of war, no taxation of homage; I hold the olive in my hand, my words are as full of peace as matter."

In Sonnet CVII. occurs the well-known line:[538]

"And peace proclaims olives of endless age."

[538] See also "3 Henry VI.," iv. 6; "Timon of Athens," v. 4; "Antony and Cleopatra," iv. 6; "2 Henry IV.," iv. 4.

_Palm._ As the symbol of victory, this was carried before the conqueror in triumphal processions. Its cla.s.sical use is noticed by Shakespeare in "Coriola.n.u.s" (v. 3). Volumnia says:[539]

"And bear the palm, for having bravely shed Thy wife and children's blood."

[539] See "As You Like It," iii. 2; "Timon of Athens," v. 1; cf. "Henry VIII.," iv. 2.

In "Julius Caesar" (i. 2), Ca.s.sius exclaims:

"Ye G.o.ds, it doth amaze me, A man of such a feeble temper should So get the start of the majestic world, And bear the palm alone."

Pilgrims were formerly called "palmers," from the staff or bough of palm they were wont to carry. So, in "All's Well That Ends Well" (iii. 5), Helena asks:

"Where do the palmers lodge, I do beseech you?"

_Pear._ In his few notices of the pear Shakespeare only mentions two by name, the warden and the poperin: the former was chiefly used for roasting or baking, and is mentioned by the clown in the "Winter's Tale"

(iv. 3):

"I must have saffron, to colour the warden pies."

Hence Ben Jonson makes a pun upon Church-warden pies. According to some antiquarians, the name warden is from the Anglo-Saxon _wearden_, to preserve, as it keeps for a long time; but it is more probable that the word had its origin from the horticultural skill of the Cistercian monks of Wardon Abbey, in Bedfords.h.i.+re, founded in the 12th century. Three warden pears appeared on the armorial bearings of the abbey.[540] It is noticeable that the warden pies of Shakespeare's day, colored with saffron, have been replaced by stewed pears colored with cochineal.

[540] See "Archaeological Journal," vol. v. p. 301.

The poperin pear was probably introduced from Flanders by the antiquary Leland, who was made rector of Popering by Henry VIII. It is alluded to by Mercutio in "Romeo and Juliet" (ii. 1), where he wishes that Romeo were "a poperin pear." In the old dramas there is much attempt at wit on this pear.

_Peas._ A practice called "peascod wooing" was formerly a common mode of divination in love affairs. The cook, when sh.e.l.ling green peas, would, if she chanced to find a pod having nine, lay it on the lintel of the kitchen-door, and the first man who entered was supposed to be her future husband. Another way of divination by peascod consisted in the lover selecting one growing on the stem, s.n.a.t.c.hing it away quickly, and if the good omen of the peas remaining in the husk were preserved, in then presenting it to the lady of his choice. Touchstone, in "As You Like It" (ii. 4), alludes to this piece of popular suggestion: "I remember the wooing of a peascod[541] instead of her." Gay, who has carefully chronicled many a custom of his time, says, in his "Fourth Pastoral:"

"As peascods once I pluck'd, I chanc'd to see, One that was closely fill'd with three times three, Which when I cropp'd I safely home convey'd, And o'er my door the spell in secret laid."

[541] The cod was what we now call the pod.

We may quote, as a further ill.u.s.tration, the following stanza from Browne's "Pastorals" (bk. ii. song 3):

"The peascod greene, oft with no little toyle, He'd seek for in the fattest, fertil'st soile, And rende it from the stalke to bring it to her, And in her bosom for acceptance wooe her."[542]

[542] See Brand's "Pop. Antiq.," 1849, vol. ii. p. 99.

_Plantain._ The leaves of this plant were carefully valued by our forefathers for their supposed efficacy in healing wounds, etc. It was also considered as a preventive of poison; and to this supposed virtue we find an allusion in "Romeo and Juliet" (i. 2):

"_Benvolio._ Take thou some new infection to thy eye, And the rank poison of the old will die.

_Romeo._ Your plantain leaf is excellent for that.

_Benvolio._ For what, I pray thee?

_Romeo._ For your broken s.h.i.+n."[543]

[543] See "Love's Labour's Lost," iii. 1.

In the "Two n.o.ble Kinsmen" (i. 2) Palamon says:

"These poor slight sores Need not a plantain."

_Poppy._ The plant referred to by Shakespeare in "Oth.e.l.lo" (iii. 3) is the opium poppy, well known in his day for its deadly qualities. It is described by Spenser in the "Fairy Queen" (ii. 7, 52) as the "dead-sleeping poppy," and Drayton ("Nymphidia," v.) enumerates it among the flowers that procure "deadly sleeping."

_Potato._ It is curious enough, says Nares,[544] to find that excellent root, which now forms a regular portion of the daily nutriment of every individual, and is the chief or entire support of mult.i.tudes in Ireland, spoken of continually as having some powerful effect upon the human frame, in exciting the desires and pa.s.sions; yet this is the case in all the writings contemporary with Shakespeare. Thus Falstaff, in "Merry Wives of Windsor" (v. 5), says: "Let the sky rain potatoes; let it thunder to the tune of 'Green Sleeves,' hail kissing comfits," etc. In "Troilus and Cressida" (v. 2), Thersites adds: "How the devil luxury, with his fat rump and potato finger, tickles these together."[545] It appears, too, that the medical writers of the times countenanced this fancy. Mr. Ellacombe[546] observes that the above pa.s.sages are of peculiar interest, inasmuch as they contain almost the earliest notice of potatoes after their introduction into England.

[544] "Glossary," vol. ii. p. 677.

[545] See Beaumont and Fletcher, "Elder Brother," iv. 4; Ma.s.singer, "New Way to Pay Old Debts," ii. 2; Ben Jonson, "Cynthia's Revels," ii. 1, etc.

[546] "Plant-Lore of Shakespeare," p. 173.

_Primrose._ Although the early primrose has always been such a popular and favorite flower, yet it seems to have been a.s.sociated with sadness,[547] or even worse than sadness; for, in the following pa.s.sages, the "primrose paths" and "primrose way" are meant to be suggestive of sinful pleasures. Thus, in "Hamlet" (i. 3), Ophelia says:

"like a puff'd and reckless libertine, Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, And recks not his own rede."

[547] Ibid., p. 179.

And in "Macbeth" (ii. 3), the Porter declares: "I had thought to have let in some of all professions, that go the primrose way to the everlasting bonfire." Curious to say, too, Shakespeare's only epithets for this fair flower are, "pale," "faint," "that die unmarried." Nearly all the poets of that time spoke of it in the same strain, with the exception of Ben Jonson and the two Fletchers.

_Reed._ Among the uses to which the reed was formerly applied were the thatching of houses and the making of shepherds' pipes. The former is alluded to in the "Tempest" (v. 1):

"His tears run down his beard, like winter's drops From eaves of reeds;"

and the latter in "Merchant of Venice" (iii. 4), where Portia speaks of "a reed voice." It has generally been regarded as the emblem of weakness, as in "Antony and Cleopatra" (ii. 7): "a reed that will do me no service."

_Rose._ As might be expected, the rose is the flower most frequently mentioned by Shakespeare, a symbol, in many cases, of all that is fair and lovely. Thus, for instance, in "Hamlet" (iii. 4), Hamlet says:

"Such an act ... takes off the rose From the fair forehead of an innocent love, And sets a blister there."

And Ophelia (iii. 1) describes Hamlet as,

"The expectancy and rose of the fair state."

In days gone by the rose entered largely into the customs and superst.i.tions of most nations, and even nowadays there is an extensive folk-lore a.s.sociated with it.

It appears that, in Shakespeare's time, one of the fas.h.i.+ons of the day was the wearing of enormous roses on the shoes, of which full-length portraits afford striking examples.[548] Hamlet (iii. 2) speaks of "two Provincial roses on my razed shoes;" meaning, no doubt, rosettes of ribbon in the shape of roses of Provins or Provence. Douce favors the former, Warton the latter locality. In either case, it was a large rose. The Provence, or damask rose, was probably the better known.