"Her nekke was white as the Flour de Lis."

These are certainly strong authorities for saying that the Flower-de-luce is the Lily. But there are as strong or stronger on the other side. Spenser separates the Lilies from the Flower-de-luces in his pretty lines—

"Strow mee the grounde with Daffadown-Dillies, And Cowslips, and Kingcups, and loved Lillies; The Pretty Pawnce And the Chevisaunce Shall match with the fayre Floure Delice."

Shepherd's Calendar.

Ben Jonson separates them in the same way—

"Bring rich Carnations, Flower-de-luces, Lillies."

Lord Bacon also separates them: "In April follow the double White Violet, the Wall-flower, the Stock-Gilliflower, the Cowslip, the Flower-de-luces, and Lilies of all Natures;" and so does Drayton—

"The Lily and the Flower de Lis For colours much contenting."

Nymphal V.

In heraldry also the Fleur-de-lis and the Lily are two distinct bearings. Then, from the time of Turner in 1568, through Gerard and Parkinson to Miller, all the botanical writers identify the Iris as the plant named, and with this judgment most of our modern writers agree.[99:1] We may, therefore, assume that Shakespeare meant the Iris as the flower given by Perdita, and we need not be surprised at his classing it among the Lilies. Botanical classification was not very accurate in his day, and long after his time two such celebrated men as Redoute and De Candolle did not hesitate to include in the "Liliacae," not only Irises, but Daffodils, Tulips, Fritillaries, and even Orchids.

What Iris Shakespeare especially alluded to it is useless to inquire. We have two in England that are indigenous—one the rich golden-yellow (I. pseudacorus), which in some favourable positions, with its roots in the water of a brook, is one of the very handsomest of the tribe; the other the Gladwyn (I. foetidissima), with dull flowers and strong-smelling leaves, but with most handsome scarlet fruit, which remain on the plant and show themselves boldly all through the winter and early spring. Of other sorts there is a large number, so that the whole family, according to the latest account by Mr. Baker, of Kew, contains ninety-six distinct species besides varieties. They come from all parts of the world, from the Arctic Circle to the South of China; they are of all colours, from the pure white Iris Florentina to the almost black I. Susiana; and of all sizes, from a few inches to four feet or more. They are mostly easy of cultivation and increase readily, so that there are few plants better suited for the hardy garden or more ornamental.

FOOTNOTES:

[99:1] G. Fletcher's Flower-de-luce was certainly the Iris—

"The Flower-de-Luce and the round specks of dew That hung upon the azure leaves did shew Like twinkling stars that sparkle in the evening blue."

The "leaves" here must be the petals.



FUMITER, FUMITORY.

(1) Cordelia.

Crown'd with rank Fumiter and Furrow-weeds.

King Lear, act iv, sc. 4 (3). (See CUCKOO-FLOWERS.)

(2) Burgundy.

Her fallow leas The Darnel, Hemlock, and rank Fumitory Doth root upon.

Henry V, act v, sc. 2 (44).

Of Fumitories we have five species in England, all of them weeds in cultivated grounds and in hedgerows. None of them can be considered garden plants, but they are closely allied to the Corydalis, of which there are several pretty species, and to the very handsome Dielytras, of which one species—D. spectabilis—ranks among the very handsomest of our hardy herbaceous plants. How the plant acquired its name of Fumitory—fume-terre, earth-smoke—is not very satisfactorily explained, though many explanations have been given; but that the name was an ancient one we know from the interesting Stockholm manuscript of the eleventh century published by Mr. J. Pettigrew, and of which a few lines are worth quoting. (The poem is published in the "Archaeologia," vol. xxx.)—

"Fumiter is erbe, I say, Yt spryngyth ī April et in May, In feld, in town, in yard, et gate, Yer lond is fat and good in state, Dun red is his flour Ye erbe smek lik in colowur."



FURZE.

(1) Ariel.

So I charm'd their ears, That calf-like they my lowing follow'd through Tooth'd Briers, sharp Furzes, pricking Goss, and Thorns.

Tempest, act iv, sc. 1 (178).

(2) Gonzalo.

Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground, long Heath, brown Furze, anything.

Ibid., act i, sc. 1 (70).

We now call the Ulex Europaeus either Gorse, or Furze, or Whin; but in the sixteenth century I think that the Furze and Gorse were distinguished (see GORSE), and that the brown Furze was the Ulex. It is a most beautiful plant, and with its golden blossoms and richly scented flowers is the glory of our wilder hill-sides. It is especially a British plant, for though it is found in other parts of Europe, and even in the Azores and Canaries, yet I believe it is nowhere found in such abundance or in such beauty as in England. Gerard says, "The greatest and highest that I did ever see do grow about Excester, in the West Parts of England;" and those that have seen it in Devonshire will agree with him. It seems to luxuriate in the damp, mild climate of Devonshire, and to see it in full flower as it covers the low hills that abut upon the Channel between Ilfracombe and Clovelly is a sight to be long remembered. It is, indeed, a plant that we may well be proud of. Linnaeus could only grow it in a greenhouse, and there is a well-known story of Dillenius that when he first saw the Furze in blossom in England he fell on his knees and thanked God for sparing his life to see so beautiful a part of His creation. The story may be apocryphal, but we have a later testimony from another celebrated traveller who had seen the glories of tropical scenery, and yet was faithful to the beauties of the wild scenery of England. Mr. Wallace bears this testimony: "I have never seen in the tropics such brilliant masses of colour as even England can show in her Furze-clad commons, her glades of Wild Hyacinths, her fields of Poppies, her meadows of Buttercups and Orchises, carpets of yellow, purple, azure blue, and fiery crimson, which the tropics can rarely exhibit. We have smaller masses of colour in our Hawthorns and Crab trees, our Holly and Mountain Ash, our Broom, Foxgloves, Primroses, and purple Vetches, which clothe with gay colours the length and breadth of our land" ("Malayan Archipelago," ii. 296).

As a garden shrub the Furze may be grown either as a single lawn shrub or in the hedge or shrubbery. Everywhere it will be handsome both in its single and double varieties, and as it bears the knife well, it can be kept within limits. The upright Irish form also makes an elegant shrub, but does not flower so freely as the typical plant.



GARLICK.

(1) Bottom.

And, most clear actors, eat no Onions nor Garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath.

Midsummer Night's Dream, act iv, sc. 2 (42).

(2) Lucio.

He would mouth with a beggar, though she smelt brown bread and Garlic.

Measure for Measure, act iii, sc. 2 (193).

(3) Hotspur.

I had rather live With cheese and Garlic in a windmill.

1st Henry IV, act iii, sc. 1 (161).

(4) Menenius.

You that stood so much Upon the voice of occupation, and The breath of Garlic-eaters.

Coriolanus, act iv, sc. 6 (96).

(5) Dorcas.

Mopsa must be your mistress; marry, Garlic to mend her kissing with.

Winter's Tale, act iv, sc. 4 (162).

There is something almost mysterious in the Garlick that it should be so thoroughly acceptable, almost indispensable, to many thousands, while to others it is so horribly offensive as to be unbearable. The Garlick of Egypt was one of the delicacies that the Israelites looked back to with fond regret, and we know from Herodotus that it was the daily food of the Egyptian labourer; yet, in later times, the Mohammedan legend recorded that "when Satan stepped out from the Garden of Eden after the fall of man, Garlick sprung up from the spot where he placed his left foot, and Onions from that which his right foot touched, on which account, perhaps, Mohammed habitually fainted at the sight of either." It was the common food also of the Roman labourer, but Horace could only wonder at the "dura messorum illia" that could digest the plant "cicutis allium nocentius." It was, and is the same with its medical virtues. According to some it was possessed of every virtue,[102:1] so that it had the name of Poor Man's Treacle (the word treacle not having its present meaning, but being the Anglicised form of theriake, or heal-all[103:1]); while, on the other hand, Gerard affirmed "it yieldeth to the body no nourishment at all; it ingendreth naughty and sharpe bloud."

Bullein describes it quaintly: "It is a grosse kinde of medicine, verye unpleasant for fayre Ladies and tender Lilly Rose colloured damsels which often time profereth sweet breathes before gentle wordes, but both would do very well" ("Book of Simples"). Yet if we could only divest it of its evil smell, the wild Wood Garlick would rank among the most beautiful of our British plants. Its wide leaves are very similar to those of the Lily of the Valley, and its starry flowers are of the very purest white. But it defies picking, and where it grows it generally takes full possession, so that I have known several woods—especially on the Cotswold Hills—that are to be avoided when the plant is in flower. The woods are closely carpeted with them, and every step you take brings out their foetid odour. There are many species grown in the gardens, some of which are even very sweet smelling (as A. odorum and A. fragrans); but these are the exceptions, and even these have the Garlick scent in their leaves and roots. Of the rest many are very pretty and worth growing, but they are all more or less tainted with the evil habits of the family.

FOOTNOTES:

[102:1] "You (i.e., citizens) are still sending to the apothecaries, and still crying out to 'fetch Master Doctor to me;' but our (i.e., countrymen's) apothecary's shop is our garden full of pot herbs, and our doctor is a good clove of Garlic."—The Great Frost of January, 1608.

[103:1]

"Crist, which that is to every harm triacle."

CHAUCER, Man of Lawes Tale.

"Treacle was there anone forthe brought."

Le Morte Arthur, 864.



GILLIFLOWERS, see CARNATIONS.



GINGER.

(1) Clown.

I must have Saffron to colour the Warden pies—Mace—Dates? none, that's out of my note; Nutmegs, seven—a race or two of Ginger, but that I may beg.

Winter's Tale, act iv, sc. 3 (48).

(2) Sir Toby.

Dost thou think, because thou art virtuous, there shall be no more cakes and ale.

Clown.

Yes, by St. Anne, and Ginger shall be hot i' the mouth too.

Twelfth Night, act ii, sc. 3 (123).

(3) Pompey.

First, here's Young Master Rash, he's in for a commodity of brown paper and old Ginger, nine score and seventeen pounds, of which he made five marks ready money; marry, then, Ginger was not much in request, for the old women were all dead.

Measure for Measure, act iv, sc. 3 (4).

(4) Salanio.

I would she were as lying a gossip in that as ever knapped Ginger.

Merchant of Venice, act iii, sc. 1 (9).

(5) 2nd Carrier.

I have a gammon of bacon and two razes of Ginger to be delivered as far as Charing Cross.

1st Henry IV, act ii, sc. 1 (26).

(6) Orleans.

He's of the colour of the Nutmeg.

Dauphin.

And of the heat of the Ginger.

Henry V, act iii, sc. 7 (20).

(7) Julia.

What is't you took up so Gingerly?

Two Gentlemen of Verona, act i, sc. 2 (70).

(8) Costard.

An I had but one penny in the world, thou should'st have it to buy Ginger-bread.

Love's Labour's Lost, act v, sc. 1 (74).

(9) Hotspur.

Swear me, Kate, like a lady as thou art, A good mouth-filling oath, and leave "in sooth," And such protest of pepper Ginger-bread To velvet-guards and Sunday-citizens.

1st Henry IV, act iii, sc. 1 (258).

Ginger was well known both to the Greeks and Romans. It was imported from Arabia, together with its name, Zingiberri, which it has retained, with little variation, in all languages.

When it was first imported into England is not known, but probably by the Romans, for it occurs as a common ingredient in many of the Anglo-Saxon medical recipes. Russell, in the "Boke of Nurture," mentions several kinds of Ginger; as green and white, "colombyne, valadyne, and Maydelyn." In Shakespeare's time it was evidently very common and cheap.

It is produced from the roots of Zingiber officinale, a member of the large and handsome family of the Ginger-worts. The family contains some of the most beautiful of our greenhouse plants, as the Hedychiums, Alpinias, and Mantisias; and, though entirely tropical, most of the species are of easy cultivation in England. Ginger is very easily reared in hotbeds, and I should think it very probable that it may have been so grown in Shakespeare's time. Gerard attempted to grow it, but he naturally failed, by trying to grow it in the open ground as a hardy plant; yet "it sprouted and budded forth greene leaves in my garden in the heate of somer;" and he tells us that plants were sent him by "an honest and expert apothecarie, William Dries, of Antwerp," and "that the same had budded and grown in the said Dries' garden."



GOOSEBERRIES.

Falstaff.

All the other gifts appertinent to man, as the malice of this age shapes them, are not worth a Gooseberry.

2nd Henry IV, act i, sc. 2 (194).

The Gooseberry is probably a native of the North of England, but Turner said (s.v. uva crispa) "it groweth onely that I have sene in England, in gardines, but I have sene it in Germany abrode in the fieldes amonge other busshes."

The name has nothing to do with the goose. Dr. Prior has satisfactorily shown that the word is a corruption of "Crossberry." By the writers of Shakespeare's time, and even later, it was called Feaberry (Gerard, Lawson, and others), and in one of the many books on the Plague published in the sixteenth century, the patient is recommended to eat "thepes, or goseberries" ("A Counsell against the Sweate," fol. 23).



GORSE OR GOSS.

Ariel.

Tooth'd Briers, sharp Furzes, pricking Goss, and Thorns.

Tempest, act iv, sc. 1 (180).

In speaking of the Furze (which see), I said that in Shakespeare's time the Furze and Gorse were probably distinguished, though now the two names are applied to the same plant. "In the 15th Henry VI. (1436), license was given to Humfrey, Duke of Gloucester, to inclose 200 acres of land—pasture, wode, hethe, vrises,[106:1] and gorste (bruere, et jampnorum), and to form thereof a Park at Greenwich."—Rot. Parl. iv. 498.[106:2] This proves that the "Gorst" was different from the "Vrise," and it may very likely have been the Petty Whin. "Pricking Goss," however, may be only a generic term, like Bramble and Brier, for any wild prickly plant.

FOOTNOTES:

[106:1] There is a hill near Lansdown (Bath) now called Frizen or Freezing Hill. Within memory of man it was covered with Gorse. This was probably the origin of the name, "Vrisen Hill."

[106:2] "Promptorium Parvulorum," p. 162, note.



GOURD.

Pistol.

For Gourd and fullam holds.

Merry Wives, act i, sc. 3 (94).

I merely mention this to point out that "Gourd," though probably originally derived from the fruit, is not the fruit here, but is an instrument of gambling. The fruit, however, was well known in Shakespeare's time, and was used as the type of intense greenness—

"Whose coerule stream, rombling in pebble-stone, Crept under Moss, as green as any Gourd."

SPENSER, Virgil's Gnat.



GRACE, see RUE.



GRAPES, see VINES.



GRASSES.

(1) Gonzalo.

How lush and lusty the Grass looks! how green!

Tempest, act ii, sc. 1 (52).

(2) Iris.

Here, on this Grass-plot, in this very place To come and sport.

Ibid., act iv, sc. 1 (73).

(3) Ceres.

Why hath thy Queen Summon'd me hither to this short-grass'd green?

Ibid. (82).

(4) Lysander.

When Phoebe doth behold Her silver visage in the watery glass, Decking with liquid pearl the bladed Grass.

Midsummer Night's Dream, act i, sc. 1 (209).

(5) King.

Say to her, we have measured many miles To tread a measure with her on this Grass.

Boyet.

They say, that they have measured many miles To tread a measure with her on the Grass.

Love's Labour's Lost, act v, sc. 2 (184).

(6) Clown.

I am no great Nebuchadnezzar, sir, I have not much skill in Grass.

All's Well that Ends Well, act iv, sc. 5 (21).

(7) Luciana.

If thou art changed to aught, 'tis to an ass.

Dromio of Syracuse.

'Tis true; she rides me, and I long for Grass.

Comedy of Errors, act ii, sc. 2 (201).

(8) Bolingbroke.

Here we march Upon the Grassy carpet of the plain.

Richard II, act iii, sc. 3 (49).

(9) King Richard.

And bedew Her pasture's Grass with faithful English blood.

Ibid. (100).

(10) Ely.

Grew like the summer Grass, fastest by night, Unseen, yet crescive in his faculty.

Henry V, act i, sc. 1 (65).

(11) King Henry.

Mowing like Grass Your fresh-fair virgins and your flowering infants.

Ibid., act iii, sc. 3 (13).

(12) Grandpre.

And in their pale dull mouths the gimmal bit Lies foul with chew'd Grass, still and motionless.

Henry V, act iv, sc. 2 (49).

(13) Suffolk.

Though standing naked on a mountain top Where biting cold would never let Grass grow.

2nd Henry VI, act iii, sc. 2 (336).

(14) Cade.

All the realm shall be in common; and in Cheapside shall my palfrey go to Grass.

Ibid., act iv, sc. 2 (74).

(15) Cade.

Wherefore on a brick wall have I climbed into this garden, to see if I can eat Grass or pick a Sallet another while, which is not amiss to cool a man's stomach this hot weather.

Ibid., act iv, sc. 10 (7).

(16) Cade.

If I do not leave you all as dead as a door-nail, I pray God I may never eat Grass more.

Ibid. (42).

(17) 1st Bandit.

We cannot live on Grass, on berries, water, As beasts and birds and fishes.

Timon of Athens, act iv, sc. 3 (425).

(18) Saturninus.

These tidings nip me, and I hang the head As Flowers with frost or Grass beat down with storms.

Titus Andronicus, act iv, sc. 4 (70).

(19) Hamlet.

Ay but, sir, "while the Grass grows"—the proverb is something musty.

Hamlet, act iii, sc. 2 (358).

(20) Ophelia.

He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone; At his head a Grass-green turf, At his heels a stone.

Ibid., act iv, sc. 5 (29).

(21) Salarino.

I should be still Plucking the Grass to know where sits the wind.

Merchant of Venice, act i, sc. 1 (17).

In and before Shakespeare's time Grass was used as a general term for all plants. Thus Chaucer—

"And every grass that groweth upon roote Sche schal eek know, to whom it will do boote Al be his woundes never so deep and wyde."

The Squyeres Tale.

It is used in the same general way in the Bible, "the Grass of the field."

In the whole range of botanical studies the accurate study of the Grasses is, perhaps, the most difficult as the genus is the most extensive, for Grasses are said to "constitute, perhaps, a twelfth part of the described species of flowering plants, and at least nine-tenths of the number of individuals comprising the vegetation of the world" (Lindley), so that a full study of the Grasses may almost be said to be the work of a lifetime. But Shakespeare was certainly no such student of Grasses: in all these passages Grass is only mentioned in a generic manner, without any reference to any particular Grass. The passages in which hay is mentioned, I have not thought necessary to quote.



HAREBELL.

Arviragus.

Thou shalt not lack The flower that's like thy face, pale Primrose, nor The azured Harebell, like thy veins.

Cymbeline, act iv, sc. 2 (220). (See EGLANTINE.)

The Harebell of Shakespeare is undoubtedly the Wild Hyacinth (Scilla nutans), the "sanguine flower inscribed with woe" of Milton's "Lycidas," though we must bear in mind that the name is applied differently in various parts of the island; thus "the Harebell of Scotch writers is the Campanula, and the Bluebell, so celebrated in Scottish song, is the Wild Hyacinth or Scilla; while in England the same names are used conversely, the Campanula being the Bluebell and the Wild Hyacinth the Harebell" ("Poets' Pleasaunce")—but this will only apply in poetry; in ordinary language, at least in the South of England, the Wild Hyacinth is the Bluebell, and is the plant referred to by Shakespeare as the Harebell.

It is one of the chief ornaments of our woods,[109:1] growing in profusion wherever it establishes itself, and being found of various colours—pink, white, and blue. As a garden flower it may well be introduced into shrubberies, but as a border plant it cannot compete with its rival relation, the Hyacinthus orientalis, which is the parent of all the fine double and many coloured Hyacinths in which the florists have delighted for the last two centuries.

FOOTNOTES:

[109:1] "'Dust of sapphire,' writes my friend Dr. John Brown to me of the wood Hyacinths of Scotland in the spring; yes, that is so—each bud more beautiful itself than perfectest jewel."—RUSKIN, Proserpina, p. 73.



HARLOCKS.

Cordelia.

Crown'd with rank Fumiter and Furrow-weeds, With Harlocks, Hemlock, Nettles, Cuckoo-flowers.

King Lear, act iv, sc. 4 (3). (See CUCKOO-FLOWERS.)

I cannot do better than follow Dr. Prior on this word: "Harlock, as usually printed in 'King Lear' and in Drayton, ecl. 4—

'The Honeysuckle, the Harlocke, The Lily and the Lady-smocke,'

is a word that does not occur in the Herbals, and which the commentators have supposed to be a misprint for Charlock. There can be little doubt that Hardock is the correct reading, and that the plant meant is the one now called Burdock." Schmidt also adopts Burdock as the right interpretation.



HAWTHORNS.



(1) Rosalind.

There's a man hangs odes upon Hawthorns and elegies on Brambles.

As You Like It, act iii, sc. 2 (379).

(2) Quince.

This green plot shall be our stage, this Hawthorn-brake our tiring house.

Midsummer Night's Dream, act iii, sc. 1 (3).

(3) Helena.

Your tongue's sweet air, More tuneable than lark to shepherd's ear, When Wheat is green, when Hawthorn-buds appear.

Ibid., act i, sc. 1 (183).

(4) Falstaff.

I cannot cog and say thou art this and that, like a many of these lisping Hawthorn-buds.

Merry Wives, act iii, sc. 3 (76).

(5) K. Henry.

Gives not the Hawthorn-bush a sweeter shade To shepherds looking on their silly sheep, Than doth a rich embroider'd canopy To kings that fear their subjects' treachery? O yes, it doth; a thousand-fold it doth.

3rd Henry VI, act ii, sc. 5 (42).

(6) Edgar.

Through the sharp Hawthorn blows the cold wind (bis).

King Lear, act iii, sc. 4 (47 and 102).

(7) Arcite.

Againe betake you to yon Hawthorne house.

Two Noble Kinsmen, act iii, sc. 1 (90).

Under its many names of Albespeine, Whitethorn, Haythorn or Hawthorn, May, and Quickset, this tree has ever been a favourite with all lovers of the country.

"Among the many buds proclaiming May, Decking the field in holiday array, Striving who shall surpass in braverie, Mark the faire blooming of the Hawthorn tree, Who, finely cloathed in a robe of white, Fills full the wanton eye with May's delight. Yet for the braverie that she is in Doth neither handle card nor wheel to spin, Nor changeth robes but twice; is never seen In other colours but in white or green."

such is Browne's advice in his "Britannia's Pastorals" (ii. 2). He, like the other early poets, clearly loved the tree for its beauty; and in picturesque beauty the Hawthorn yields to none, when it can be seen in some sheltered valley growing with others of its kind, and allowed to grow unpruned, for then in the early summer it is literally a sheet of white, yet beautifully relieved by the tender green of the young leaves, and by the bright crimson of the anthers, and loaded with a scent that is most delicate and refreshing. But not only for its beauty is the Hawthorn a favourite tree, but also for its many pleasant associations—it is essentially the May tree, the tree that tells that winter is really past, and that summer has fairly begun. Hear Spenser—

"Thilke same season, when all is yclade With pleasaunce; the ground with Grasse, the woods With greene leaves, the bushes with blooming buds, Youngthes folke now flocken in everywhere To gather May-baskets and smelling Brere; And home they hasten the postes to dight, And all the kirk-pillours eare day-light, With Hawthorne-buds, and sweet Eglantine, And girlondes of Roses, and soppes-in-wine."

Shepherd's Calendar—May.

Yet in spite of its pretty name, and in spite of the poets, the Hawthorn now seldom flowers till June, and I should suppose it is never in flower on May Day, except perhaps in Devonshire and Cornwall; and it is very doubtful if it ever were so found, except in these southern counties, though some fancy that the times of flowering of several of our flowers are changed, and in some instances largely changed. But "it was an old custom in Suffolk, in most of the farmhouses, that any servant who could bring in a branch of Hawthorn in full blossom on the 1st of May was entitled to a dish of cream for breakfast. This custom is now disused, not so much from the reluctance of the masters to give the reward, as from the inability of the servants to find the Whitethorn in flower."—BRAND'S Antiquities.[112:1] Even those who might not see the beauty of an old Thorn tree, have found its uses as one of the very few trees that will grow thick in the most exposed places, and so give pleasant shade and shelter in places where otherwise but little shade and shelter could be found.

"Every shepherd tells his tale Under the Hawthorn in the dale."—MILTON.

And "at Hesket, in Cumberland, yearly on St. Barnabas' Day, by the highway side under a Thorn tree is kept the court for the whole forest of Englewood."—History of Westmoreland.

The Thorn may well be admitted as a garden shrub either in its ordinary state, or in its beautiful double white, red, and pink varieties, and those who like to grow curious trees should not omit the Glastonbury Thorn, which flowers at the ordinary time, and bears fruit, but also buds and flowers again in winter, showing at the same time the new flowers and the older fruit.

Nor must we omit to mention that the Whitethorn is one of the trees that claims to have been used for the sacred Crown of Thorns. It is most improbable that it was so, in fact almost certain that it was not; but it was a mediaeval belief, as Sir John Mandeville witnesses: "Then was our Lord yled into a gardyn, and there the Jewes scorned hym, and maden hym a crowne of the branches of the Albiespyne, that is Whitethorn, that grew in the same gardyn, and setten yt upon hys heved. And therefore hath the Whitethorn many virtues. For he that beareth a branch on hym thereof, no thundre, ne no maner of tempest may dere hym, ne in the howse that it is ynne may non evil ghost enter."

And we may finish the Hawthorn with a short account of its name, which is interesting:—"Haw," or "hay," is the same word as "hedge" ("sepes, id est, haies," John de Garlande), and so shows the great antiquity of this plant as used for English hedges. In the north, "haws" are still called "haigs;" but whether Hawthorn was first applied to the fruit or the hedge, whether the hedge was so called because it was made of the Thorn tree that bears the haws, or whether the fruit was so named because it was borne on the hedge tree, is a point on which etymologists differ.

FOOTNOTES:

[112:1] "Gilbert White in his 'Naturalists' Calendar' as the result of observations taken from 1768 to 1793 puts down the flowering of the Hawthorn as occurring in different years upon dates so widely apart as the twentieth of April and the eleventh of June."—MILNER'S Country Pleasures, p. 83.



HAZEL.

(1) Mercutio.

Her [Queen Mab's] chariot is an empty Hazel-nut Made by the joiner squirrel or old grub, Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers.

Romeo and Juliet, act i, sc. 4 (67).

(2) Petruchio.

Kate like the Hazel twig Is straight and slender and as brown in hue As Hazel-nuts and sweeter than the kernels.

Taming of the Shrew, act ii, sc. 1 (255).

(3) Caliban.

I'll bring thee to clustering Filberts.

Tempest, act ii, sc. 2 (174).

(4) Touchstone.

Sweetest Nut hath sourest rind, Such a Nut is Rosalind.

As You Like It, act iii, sc. 2 (115).

(5) Celia.

For his verity in love I do think him as concave as a covered goblet or a worm-eaten Nut.

Ibid., act iii, sc. 4 (25).

(6) Lafeu.

Believe this of me, there can be no kernel in this light Nut.

All's Well that Ends Well, act ii, sc. 5 (46).

(7) Mercutio.

Thou wilt quarrel with a man for cracking Nuts, having no other reason but because thou hast Hazel eyes.

Romeo and Juliet, act iii, sc. 1 (20).

(8) Thersites.

Hector shall have a great catch, if he knock out either of your brains; a' were as good crack a fusty Nut with no kernel.

Troilus and Cressida, act ii, sc. 1 (109).

(9) Gonzalo.

I'll warrant him for drowning; though the ship were no stronger than a Nut-shell.

Tempest, act i, sc. 1 (49).

(10) Titania.

I have a venturous fairy that shall seek The squirrel's hoard, and fetch thee new Nuts.

Midsummer Night's Dream, act iv, sc. 1 (40).

(11) Hamlet.

O God, I could be bounded in a Nut-shell and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams.

Hamlet, act ii, sc. 2 (260).

(12) Dromio of Syracuse.

Some devils ask but the parings of one's nail, A Rush, a hair, a drop of blood, a pin, A Nut, a Cherry-stone.

Comedy of Errors, act iv, sc. 3 (72).

Dr. Prior has decided that "'Filbert' is a barbarous compound of phillon or feuille, a leaf, and beard, to denote its distinguishing peculiarity, the leafy involucre projecting beyond the nut." But in the times before Shakespeare the name was more poetically said to be derived from the nymph Phyllis. Nux Phyllidos is its name in the old vocabularies, and Gower ("Confessio Amantis") tells us why—

"Phyllis in the same throwe Was shape into a Nutte-tree, That alle men it might see; And after Phyllis philliberde, This tre was cleped in the yerde"

(Lib. quart.),

and so Spenser spoke of it as "'Phillis' philbert" (Elegy 17).[115:1]

The Nut, the Filbert, and the Cobnut, are all botanically the same, and the two last were cultivated in England long before Shakespeare's time, not only for the fruit, but also, and more especially, for the oil.

There is a peculiarity in the growth of the Nut that is worth the notice of the botanical student. The male blossoms, or catkins (anciently called "agglettes or blowinges"), are mostly produced at the ends of the year's shoots, while the pretty little crimson female blossoms are produced close to the branch; they are completely sessile or unstalked. Now in most fruit trees, when a flower is fertilized, the fruit is produced exactly in the same place, with respect to the main tree, that the flower occupied; a Peach or Apricot, for instance, rests upon the branch which bore the flower. But in the Nut a different arrangement prevails. As soon as the flower is fertilized it starts away from the parent branch; a fresh branch is produced, bearing leaves and the Nut or Nuts at the end, so that the Nut is produced several inches away from the spot on which the flower originally was. I know of no other tree that produces its fruit in this way, nor do I know what special benefit to the plant arises from this arrangement.

Much folk-lore has gathered round the Hazel tree and the Nuts. The cracking of Nuts, with much fortune-telling connected therewith, was the favourite amusement on All Hallow's Eve (Oct. 31), so that the Eve was called Nutcrack Night. I believe the custom still exists; it certainly has not been very long abolished, for the Vicar of Wakefield and his neighbours "religiously cracked Nuts on All Hallow's Eve." And in many places "an ancient custom prevailed of going a Nutting on Holy Rood Day (Sept. 14), which it was esteemed quite unlucky to omit."—FORSTER.[116:1]

A greater mystery connected with the Hazel is the divining rod, for the discovery of water and metals. This has always by preference been a forked Hazel-rod, though sometimes other rods are substituted. The belief in its power dates from a very early period, and is by no means extinct. The divining-rod is said to be still used in Cornwall, and firmly believed in; nor has this belief been confined to the uneducated. Even Linnaeus confessed himself to be half a convert to it, and learned treatises have been written accepting the facts, and accounting for them by electricity or some other subtle natural agency. Most of us, however, will rather agree with Evelyn's cautious verdict, that the virtues attributed to the forked stick "made out so solemnly by the attestation of magistrates, and divers other learned and credible persons, who have critically examined matters of fact, is certainly next to a miracle, and requires a strong faith."

FOOTNOTES:

[115:1] "Hic fullus—a fylberd-tre."—Nominale, 15th cent.

"Fylberde, notte—Fillum."

"Filberde, tre—Phillis."—Promptorium Parvulorum.

"The Filbyrdes hangyng to the ground."—Squyr of Lowe Degre (37).

[116:1] See a long account of the connection of nuts with All Hallow's Eve in Hanson, "Med. aevi Calend." i. 363.



HEATH.

Gonzalo.

Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground, long Heath, brown Furze, anything.

Tempest, act i, sc. 1 (70).

There are other passages in which the word Heath occurs in Shakespeare, but in none else is the flower referred to; the other references are to an open heath or common. And in this place no special Heath can be selected, unless by "long Heath" we suppose him to have meant the Ling (Calluna vulgaris). And this is most probable, for so Lyte calls it. "There is in this countrie two kindes of Heath, one which beareth the flowres alongst the stemmes, and is called Long Heath." But it is supposed by some that the correct reading is "Ling, Heath," &c., and in that case Heath will be a generic word, meaning any of the British species (see LING). Of British species there are five, and wherever they exist they are dearly prized as forming a rich element of beauty in our landscapes. They are found all over the British Islands, and they seem to be quite indifferent as to the place of their growth. They are equally beautiful in the extreme Highlands of Scotland, or on the Quantock and Exmoor Hills of the South—everywhere they clothe the hill-sides with a rich garment of purple that is wonderfully beautiful, whether seen under the full influence of the brightest sunshine, or under the dark shadows of the blackest thundercloud. And the botanical geography of the Heath tribe is very remarkable; it is found over the whole of Europe, in Northern Asia, and in Northern Africa. Then the tribe takes a curious leap, being found in immense abundance, both of species and individuals, in Southern Africa, while it is entirely absent from North and South America. Not a single species has been found in the New World. A few plants of Calluna vulgaris have been found in Newfoundland and Massachusetts, but that is not a true Heath.

As a garden plant the Heath has been strangely neglected. Many of the species are completely hardy, and will make pretty evergreen bushes of from 2ft. to 4ft. high, but they are better if kept close-grown by constant clipping. The species best suited for this treatment are E. Mediterranea, E. arborea, and E. codonoides. Of the more humble-growing species, E. vagans (the Cornish Heath) will grow easily in most gardens, though in its native habitat it is confined to the serpentine formation; nor must we omit E. herbacea, which also will grow anywhere, and, if clipped yearly after flowering, will make a most beautiful border to any flower-bed; or it may be used more extensively, as it is at Doddington Park, in Gloucestershire (Sir Gerald Codrington's), where there is a large space in front of the house, several yards square, entirely filled with E. herbacea. When this is in flower (and it is so for nearly two months, or sometimes more) the effect, as seen from above, is of the richest Turkey carpet, but of such a colour and harmony as no Turkey carpet ever attained.

Several of the South-European Heaths were cultivated in England in Shakespeare's time.



HEBENON OR HEBONA.[118:1]

Ghost.

Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole, With juice of cursed Hebenon in a vial, And in the porches of my ear did pour The leperous distilment; whose effect Holds such an enmity with blood of man That swift as quicksilver it courses through The natural gates and alleys of the body, And with a sudden vigour it doth posset And curd, like eager droppings into milk, The thin and wholesome blood; so did it mine; And a most instant tetter bark'd about, Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust, All my smooth body.

Hamlet, act i, sc. 5 (61).

Before and in the time of Shakespeare other writers had spoken of the narcotic and poisonous effects of Heben, Hebenon, or Hebona. Gower says—

"Ful of delite, Slepe hath his hous, and of his couche, Within his chambre if I shall touche, Of Hebenus that slepy tre The bordes all aboute be."

Conf. Aman., lib. quart. (ii. 103, Paulli).

Spenser says—

"Faire Venus sonne, . . . Lay now thy deadly Heben bow apart."

F. Q., introd., st. 3.

"There (in Mammon's garden) Cypresse grew in greatest store, And trees of bitter gall and Heben sad."

F. Q., book ii, c. viij, st. 17.

And he speaks of a "speare of Heben wood," and "a Heben launce." Marlowe, a contemporary and friend of Shakespeare, makes Barabas curse his daughter with—

"In few the blood of Hydra, Lerna's bane, The juice of Hebon, and Cocytus breath, And all the poison of the Stygian pool."

Jew of Malta, act iii, st. 4.

It may be taken for granted that all these authors allude to the same tree, but what tree is meant has sorely puzzled the commentators. Some naturally suggested the Ebony, and this view is supported by the respectable names of Archdeacon Nares, Douce, Schmidt, and Dyce. A larger number pronounced with little hesitation in favour of Henbane (Hyoscyamus niger), the poisonous qualities of which were familiar to the contemporaries of Shakespeare, and were supposed by most of the botanical writers of his day (and on the authority of Pliny) to be communicated by being poured into the ears. But the Henbane is not a tree, as Gower's "Hebenus" and Spenser's "Heben" certainly were; and though it will satisfy some of the requirements of the plant named by Shakespeare, it will not satisfy all.[119:1]

It might have been supposed that the difficulty would at once have been cleared up by reference to the accounts of the death of Hamlet's father, as given by Saxo Grammaticus, and the old "Hystorie of Hamblet," but neither of these writers attribute his death to poison.[119:2]

The question has lately been very much narrowed and satisfactorily settled (for the present, certainly, and probably altogether) by Dr. Nicholson and the Rev. W. A. Harrison. These gentlemen have decided that the true reading is Hebona, and that Hebona is the Yew. Their views are stated at full length in two exhaustive papers contributed to the New Shakespeare Society, and published in their "Transactions."[119:3] The full argument is too long for insertion here, and my readers will thank me for referring them to the papers in the "Transactions." The main arguments are based on three facts: 1. That in nearly all the northern nations (including, of course, Denmark) the name of the Yew is more or less like Heben. 2. That all the effects attributed by Shakespeare to the action of Hebona are described as arising from Yew-poisoning by different medical writers, some of them contemporary with him, and some writing with later experiences. 3. That the post mortem appearances after Yew-poisoning and after snake-poisoning are very similar, and it was "given out, that sleeping in my orchard, a serpent stung me."

But it may well be asked, How could Shakespeare have known of all these effects, which (as far as our present search has discovered) are not named by any one writer of his time, and some of which have only been made public from the results of Yew-poisoning since his day? I think the question can be answered in a very simple way. The effects are described with such marked minuteness that it seems to me not only very probable, but almost certain, that Shakespeare must have been an eye-witness of a case of Yew-poisoning, and that what he saw had been so photographed on his mind that he took the first opportunity that presented itself to reproduce the picture. With his usual grand contempt for perfect accuracy he did not hesitate to sweep aside at once the strict historical records of the old king's death, and in its place to paint for us a cold-blooded murder carried out by means which he knew from his personal experience to be possible, and which he felt himself able to describe with a minuteness which his knowledge of his audiences assured him would not be out of place even in that great tragedy.

The objection to the Yew theory of Hebona, that the Yew is named by Shakespeare under its more usual name, is no real objection. On the same ground Ebony and Henbane must be excluded; together with Gilliflowers, which he elsewhere speaks of as Carnations; and Woodbine, because he also speaks of Honeysuckle.

FOOTNOTES:

[118:1] Hebona is the reading of the First Quarto (1603) and of the Second Quarto (1604), and is decided by the critics to be the true reading.

[119:1] Mr. Beisley suggests Enoron, i.e., Nightshade, which Mr. Dyce describes as "a villainous conjecture." In my first edition I expressed my belief that Hebenon was either Henbane or a general term for a deadly poisonous plant; but I had not then seen Dr. Nicholson's and Mr. Harrison's papers.

[119:2] Saxo Grammaticus: "Ubi datus parricidio locus, cruenta manu mentis libidinem satiavit; trucidati quoque fratris uxore potitus, incestum parricidio adjecit."—Historiae Danorum, lib. iii, fol. xxvii, Ed. 1514.

"The Historye of Hamblet, Prince of Denmark:" Fergon "having secretly assembled certain men and perceiving himself strong enough to execute his enterprise, Horvendile, his brother, being at a banquet with his friends, sodainely set upon him, where he slewe him as treacherously, as cunningly he purged himselfe of so detestable a murder to his subjects."—COLLIER'S Shakespeare's Library.

[119:3] "Hamlet's Cursed Hebenon," by Dr. R. B. Nicholson, M.D. (read Nov. 14, 1879). "Hamlet's Juice of Cursed Hebona," by Rev. W. A. Harrison, M.A. (read May 12, 1882). Both the papers are published in the "Transactions" of the Society.



HEMLOCK.

(1) Burgundy.

Her fallow leas The Darnel, Hemlock, and rank Fumitory Doth root upon.

Henry V, act v, sc. 2 (44).

(2) 3rd Witch.

Root of Hemlock digg'd i' the dark.

Macbeth, act iv, sc. 1 (25).

(3) Cordelia.

Crown'd with rank Fumiter and Furrow-weeds, With Burdocks, Hemlock, Nettles, Cuckoo-flowers.

King Lear, act iv, sc. 4 (3).

One of the most poisonous of a suspicious family (the Umbelliferae), "the great Hemlocke doubtlesse is not possessed of any one good facultie, as appeareth by his lothsome smell and other apparent signes," and with this evil character the Hemlock was considered to be only fit for an ingredient of witches' broth—

"I ha' been plucking (plants among) Hemlock, Henbane, Adder's Tongue, Nightshade, Moonwort, Leppard's-bane."

BEN JONSON, Witches' Song in the Masque of the Queens.

Yet the Hemlock adds largely to the beauty of our hedgerows; its spotted tall stems and its finely cut leaves make it a handsome weed, and the dead stems and dried umbels are marked features in the winter appearance of the hedges. As a poison it has an evil notoriety, being supposed to be the poison by which Socrates was put to death, though this is not quite certain. It is not, however, altogether a useless plant—"It is a valuable medicinal plant, and in autumn the ripened stem is cut into pieces to make reeds for worsted thread."—JOHNSTON.



HEMP.

(1) Pistol.

Let gallows gape for dog; let man go free, And let not Hemp his windpipe suffocate.

Henry V, act iii, sc. 6 (45).

(2) Chorus.

And in them behold Upon the Hempen tackle ship-boys climbing.

Henry V, act iii, chorus (7).

(3) Puck.

What Hempen homespuns have we swaggering here?

Midsummer Night's Dream, act iii, sc. 1 (79).

(4) Cade.

Ye shall have a Hempen caudle then, and the pap of a hatchet.

2nd Henry VI, act iv, sc. 7 (95).

(5) Hostess.

Thou Hemp-seed.

2nd Henry IV, act ii, sc. 1 (64).

In all these passages, except the last, the reference is to rope made from Hemp, and not to the Hemp plant, and it is very probable that Shakespeare never saw the plant. It was introduced into England long before his time, and largely cultivated, but only in few parts of England, and chiefly in the eastern counties. I do not find that it was cultivated in gardens in his time, but it is a plant well deserving a place in any garden, and is especially suitable from its height and regular growth, for the central plant of a flower-bed. It is supposed to be a native of India, and seems capable of cultivation in almost any climate.[122:1]

The name has a curious history. "The Greek kannabis, and Latin cannabis, are both identical with the Sanscrit kanam, as well as with the German hanf, and the English hemp. More directly from cannabis comes canvas, made up of hemp or flax, and canvass, to discuss: i.e., sift a question; metaphorically from the use of hempen sieves or sifters."—BIRDWOOD'S Handbook to the Indian Court, p. 23.

FOOTNOTES:

[122:1] In Shakespeare's time the vulgar name for Hemp was Neckweed, and there is a curious account of it under that name by William Bullein, in "The Booke of Compounds," f. 68.



HERB OF GRACE, see RUE.



HOLLY.

Song.

Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green Holly: Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly: Then, heigh-ho, the Holly! This life is most jolly.

As You Like It, act ii, sc. 7 (180).

From this single notice of the Holly in Shakespeare, and from the slight account of it in Gerard, we might conclude that the plant was not the favourite in the sixteenth century that it is in the nineteenth; but this would be a mistake. The Holly entered largely into the old Christmas carols.

"Christmastide Comes in like a bride, With Holly and Ivy clad"—

and it was from the earliest times used for the decoration of houses and churches at Christmas. It does not, however, derive its name from this circumstance, though it was anciently spelt "holy," or called the "holy tree," for the name comes from a very different source, and is identical with "holm," which, indeed, was its name in the time of Gerard and Parkinson, and is still its name in some parts of England, though it has almost lost its other old name of Hulver,[123:1] except in the eastern counties, where the word is still in use. But as an ornamental tree it does not seem to have been much valued, though in the next century Evelyn is loud in the praises of this "incomparable tree," and admired it both for its beauty and its use. It is certainly the handsomest of our native evergreens, and is said to be finer in England than in any other country; and as seen growing in its wild habitats in our forests, as it may be seen in the New Forest and the Forest of Dean, it stands without a rival, equally beautiful in summer and in winter; in summer its bright glossy leaves shining out distinctly in the midst of any surrounding greenery, while as "the Holly that outdares cold winter's ire" (Browne), it is the very emblem of bright cheerfulness, with its foliage uninjured in the most severe weather, and its rich coral berries, sometimes borne in the greatest profusion, delighting us with their brilliancy and beauty. And as a garden shrub, the Holly still holds its own, after all the fine exotic shrubs that have been introduced into our gardens during the present century. It can be grown as a single shrub, or it may be clipped, and will then form the best and the most impregnable hedge that can be grown. No other plant will compare with it as a hedge plant, if it be only properly attended to, and we can understand Evelyn's pride in his "glorious and refreshing object," a Holly hedge 160ft. in length, 7ft. in height, and 5ft. in diameter, which he could show in his "poor gardens at any time of the year, glittering with its armed and vernished leaves," and "blushing with their natural corale." Nor need we be confined to plain green in such a hedge. The Holly runs into a great many varieties, with the leaves of all shapes and sizes, and blotched and variegated in different fashions and colours. All of these seem to be comparatively modern. In the time of Gerard and Parkinson there seems to have been only the one typical species, and perhaps the Hedgehog Holly.

I may finish the notice of the Holly by quoting two most remarkable uses of the tree mentioned by Parkinson: "With the flowers of Holly, saith Pliny from Pythagoras, water is made ice; and againe, a staffe of the tree throwne at any beast, although it fall short by his defect that threw it, will flye to him, as he lyeth still, by the speciall property of the tree." He may well add—"This I here relate that you may understand the fond and vain conceit of those times, which I would to God we were not in these dayes tainted withal."

FOOTNOTES:

[123:1] "Hulwur-tre (huluyr), hulmus, hulcus aut huscus."—Promptorium Parvulorum.



HOLY THISTLE.

Margaret.

Get you some of this distilled Carduus Benedictus, and lay it to your heart; it is the only thing for a qualm.

Hero.

There thou prickest her with a Thistle.

Beatrice.

Benedictus! Why Benedictus? You have some moral in this Benedictus.

Margaret.

Moral! No, by my troth, I have no moral meaning: I meant plain Holy Thistle.

Much Ado About Nothing, act iii, sc. 4 (73).

The Carduus benedictus, or Blessed Thistle, is a handsome annual from the South of Europe, and obtained its name from its high reputation as a heal-all, being supposed even to cure the plague, which was the highest praise that could be given to a medicine in those days. It is mentioned in all the treatises on the Plague, and especially by Thomas Brasbridge, who, in 1578, published his "Poore Mans Jewell, that is to say, a Treatise of the Pestilence: vnto which is annexed a declaration of the vertues of the Hearbes Carduus Benedictus and Angelica." This little book Shakespeare may have seen; it speaks of the virtues of the "distilled" leaves: it says, "it helpeth the hart," "expelleth all poyson taken in at the mouth and other corruption that doth hurt and annoye the hart," and that "the juyce of it is outwardly applied to the bodie" ("lay it to your heart"), and concludes, "therefore I counsell all them that have Gardens to nourish it, that they may have it always to their own use, and the use of their neighbours that lacke it." The plant has long lost this high character.



HONEYSTALKS, see CLOVER.



HONEYSUCKLE.

(1) Hero.

And bid her steal into the pleached bower Where Honeysuckles, ripen'd by the sun, Forbid the sun to enter.

Much Ado About Nothing, act iii, sc. 1 (7).

(2) Ursula.

So angle we for Beatrice; who even now Is couched in the Woodbine coverture.

Ibid. (29).

(3) Titania.

Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms. So doth the Woodbine the sweet Honeysuckle Gently entwist; the Female Ivy so Enrings the barky fingers of the Elm.

Midsummer Night's Dream, act iv, sc. 1 (47).

(4) Hostess.

O thou Honeysuckle villain.

2nd Henry IV, act ii, sc. 1 (52).

(5) Oberon.

I know a bank where the wild Thyme blows, Where Oxlips and the nodding Violet grows, Quite over-canopied with luscious Woodbine.

Midsummer Night's Dream, act ii, sc. 1 (249).

I have joined together here the Woodbine and the Honeysuckle, because there can be little doubt that in Shakespeare's time the two names belonged to the same plant,[126:1] and that the Woodbine was (where the two names were at all discriminated, as in No. 3), applied to the plant generally, and Honeysuckle to the flower. This seems very clear by comparing together Nos. 1 and 2. In earlier writings the name was applied very loosely to almost any creeping or climbing plant. In an Anglo-Saxon Vocabulary of the eleventh century it is applied to the Wild Clematis ("Viticella—Weoden-binde"); while in Archbishop AElfric's "Vocabulary" of the tenth century it is applied to the Hedera nigra, which may be either the Common or the Ground Ivy ("Hedera nigra—Wude-binde"); and in the Herbarium and Leechdom books of the twelfth century it is applied to the Capparis or Caper-plant, by which, however (as Mr. Cockayne considers), the Convolvulus Sepium is meant. After Shakespeare's time again the words began to be used confusedly. Milton does not seem to have been very clear in the matter. In "Paradise Lost" he makes our first parents "wind the Woodbine round this arbour" (perhaps he had Shakespeare's arbour in his mind); and in "Comus" he tells us of—

"A bank With ivy-canopied, and interwove With flaunting Honeysuckle."[126:2]

While in "Lycidas" he tells of—

"The Musk Rose and the well-attired Woodbine."

And we can scarcely suppose that he would apply two such contrary epithets as "flaunting" and "well-attired" to the same plant. And now the name, as of old, is used with great uncertainty, and I have heard it applied to many plants, and especially to the small sweet-scented Clematis (C. flammula).

But with the Honeysuckle there is no such difficulty. The name is an old one, and in its earliest use was no doubt indifferently applied to many sweet-scented flowers (the Primrose amongst them); but it was soon attached exclusively to our own sweet Honeysuckle of the woods and hedges. We have two native species (Lonicera periclymenum and L. xylosteum), and there are about eighty exotic species, but none of them sweeter or prettier than our own, which, besides its fragrant flowers, has pretty, fleshy, red fruit.

The Honeysuckle has ever been the emblem of firm and fast affection—as it climbs round any tree or bush, that is near it, not only clinging to it faster than Ivy, but keeping its hold so tight as to leave its mark in deep furrows on the tree that has supported it. The old writers are fond of alluding to this. Bullein in "The Book of Simples," 1562, says very prettily, "Oh, how swete and pleasant is Wood-binde, in woodes or arbours, after a tender, soft rain: and how friendly doe this herbe, if I maie so name it, imbrace the bodies, armes, and branches of trees, with his long winding stalkes, and tender leaves, openyng or spreading forthe his swete Lillis, like ladie's fingers, emōg the thornes or bushes," and there is no doubt from the context that he is here referring to the Honeysuckle. Chaucer gives the crown of Woodbine to those who were constant in love—

"And tho that weare chaplets on their hede Of fresh Woodbine, be such as never were To love untrue in word, thought, ne dede, But aye stedfast; ne for pleasaunce ne fere, Though that they should their hertes al to-tere, Would never flit, but ever were stedfast Till that there lives there asunder brast."

The Flower and the Leaf.

The two last lines well describe the fast union between the Honeysuckle and its mated tree.

FOOTNOTES:

[126:1]

"Woodbines of sweet honey full."

BEAUMONT AND FLETCHER, Tragedy of Valentinian.

[126:2] Milton probably took the idea from Theocritus—

"Ivy reaches up and climbs, Gilded with blossom-dust about its lip; Round which a Woodbine wreathes itself, and flaunts Her saffron fruitage."—Idyll i. (Calverley).



HYSSOP.

Iago.

'Tis in ourselves that we are thus or thus. Our bodies are our gardens, to the which our wills are gardeners; so that if we will plant Nettles or sow Lettuce, set Hyssop, and weed up Thyme, supply it with one gender of herbs or distract it with many, either to have it sterile with idleness, or maimed with industry, why, the power and corrigible authority of this lies in our wills.

Othello, act i, sc. 3 (322).

We should scarcely expect such a lesson of wisdom drawn from the simple herb-garden in the mouth of the greatest knave and villain in the whole range of Shakespeare's writings. It was the preaching of a deep hypocrite, and while we hate the preacher we thank him for his lesson.[128:1]

The Hyssop (Hyssopus officinalis) is not a British plant, but it was held in high esteem in Shakespeare's time. Spenser spoke of it as—

"Sharp Isope good for green wounds remedies"—

and Gerard grew in his garden five or six different species or varieties. He does not tell us where his plants came from, and perhaps he did not know. It comes chiefly from Austria and Siberia; yet Greene in his "Philomela," 1615, speaks of "the Hyssop growing in America, that is liked of strangers for the smell, and hated of the inhabitants for the operation, being as prejudicial to the one as delightsome to the other." It is now very little cultivated, for it is not a plant of much beauty, and its medicinal properties are not much esteemed; yet it is a plant that must always have an interest to readers of the Bible; for there it comes before us as the plant of purification, as the plant of which the study was not beneath the wisdom of Solomon, and especially as the plant that added to the cruelties of the Crucifixion. Whether the Hyssop of Scripture is the Hyssopus officinalis is still a question, but at the present time the most modern research has decided that it is.

FOOTNOTES:

[128:1] It seems likely from the following passage from Lily's "Euphues, the anatomy of wit," 1617, that the plants were not named at random by Iago, but that there was some connection between them. "Good gardeners, in their curious knots, mixe Isope with Time, as aiders the one with the others; the one being dry, the other moist." The gardeners of the sixteenth century had a firm belief in the sympathies and antipathies of plants.



INSANE ROOT.

Banquo.

Were such things here as we do speak about? Or have we eaten on the Insane Root That takes the reason prisoner?

Macbeth, act i, sc. 3 (83).

It is very possible that Shakespeare had no particular plant in view, but simply referred to any of the many narcotic plants which, when given in excess, would "take the reason prisoner." The critics have suggested many plants—the Hemlock, the Henbane, the Belladonna, the Mandrake, &c., each one strengthening his opinion from coeval writers. In this uncertainty I should incline to the Henbane from the following description by Gerard and Lyte. "This herbe is called . . . of Apuleia-Mania" (Lyte). "Henbane is called . . . of Pythagoras, Zoroaster, and Apuleius, Insana" (Gerard).



IVY.

(1) Titania.

The female Ivy so Enrings the barky fingers of the Elm.

Midsummer Night's Dream, act iv, sc. 1 (48).

(2) Prospero.

That now he was The Ivy which had hid my princely trunk And suck'd my verdure out on't.

Tempest, act i, sc. 2 (85).

(3) Adriana.

If ought possess thee from me, it is dross, Usurping Ivy, Brier, or idle Moss.

Comedy of Errors, act ii, sc. 2 (179).

(4) Shepherd.

They have scared away two of my best sheep, which I fear the wolf will sooner find than the master; if anywhere I have them 'tis by the seaside browsing of Ivy.[130:1]

Winter's Tale, act iii, sc. 3 (66).

(5) Perithores.

His head's yellow, Hard hayr'd, and curl'd, thicke twin'd like Ivy tops, Not to undoe with thunder.

Two Noble Kinsmen, act iv, sc. 2 (115).

The rich evergreen of "the Ivy never sear" (Milton) recommended it to the Romans to be joined with the Bay in the chaplets of poets—

"Hanc sine tempora circum Inter victrices Hederam tibi serpere lauros."—VIRGIL.

"Seu condis amabile carmen Prima feres Hederae victricis praemia."—HORACE.

And in mediaeval times it was used with Holly for Christmas decorations, so that Bullein called it "the womens Christmas Herbe." But the old writers always assumed a curious rivalry between the two—

"Holly and Ivy made a great party Who should have the mastery In lands where they go."

And there is a well-known carol of the time of Henry VI., which tells of the contest between the two, and of the mastery of the Holly; it is in eight stanzas, of which I extract the last four—

"Holly he hath berries as red as any Rose, The foresters, the hunters, keep them from the does; Ivy she hath berries as black as any Sloe, There come the owls and eat them as they go; Holly he hath birds, a full fair flock, The nightingale, the popinjay, the gentle laverock; Good Ivy, say to us, what birds hast thou? None but the owlet that cries 'How, how!'"

Thus the Ivy was not allowed the same honour inside the houses of our ancestors as the Holly, but it held its place outside the houses as a sign of good cheer to be had within. The custom is now extinct, but formerly an Ivy bush (called a tod of Ivy) was universally hung out in front of taverns in England, as it still is in Brittany and Normandy. Hence arose two proverbs—"Good wine needs no bush," i.e., the reputation is sufficiently good without further advertisement; and "An owl in an Ivy bush," as "perhaps denoting originally the union of wisdom or prudence with conviviality, as 'Be merry and wise.'"—NARES.

The Ivy was a plant as much admired by our grandfathers of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries as it is now by us. Spenser was evidently fond of it—

"And nigh thereto a little chappel stoode Which being all with Yvy overspread Deckt all the roofe, and shadowing the rode Seem'd like a grove faire branched over hed."

F. Q., vi, v, 25.

In another place he speaks of it as—

"Wanton Yvie, flouring fayre."—F. Q., ii, v, 29.

And in another place—

"Amongst the rest the clambering Ivie grew Knitting his wanton armes with grasping hold, Least that the Poplar happely should rew Her brother's strokes, whose boughs she doth enfold With her lythe twigs till they the top survew, And paint with pallid greene her buds of gold."

VIRGIL'S Gnat.

Chaucer describes it as—

"The erbe Ivie that groweth in our yard that mery is."

And in the same poem he prettily describes it as—

"The pallid Ivie building his own bowre."

As a wild plant, the Ivy is found in Europe, Asia, and Africa, but not in America, and wherever it is found it loves to cover old walls and buildings, and trees of every sort, with its close and rich drapery and clusters of black fruit,[132:1] and where it once establishes itself it is always beautiful, but not always harmless. Both on trees and buildings it requires very close watching. It will very soon destroy soft-wooded trees, such as the Poplar and the Ash, by its tight embrace, not by sucking out the sap, but by preventing the outward growth of the shoots, and checking—and at length preventing—the flow of sap; and in buildings it is no doubt beneficial as long as it is closely watched and kept in place, but if allowed to drive its roots into joints, or to grow under roofs, the swelling roots and branches will soon displace any masonry, and cause immense mischief.

We have only one species of Ivy in England, and there are only two real species recognized by present botanists, but there are infinite varieties, and many of them very beautiful. These variegated Ivies were known to the Greeks and Romans, and were highly prized by them, one especially with white fruit (at present not known) was the type of beauty. No higher praise could be given to a beauty than that she was "Hedera formosior alba." These varieties are scarcely mentioned by Gerard and Parkinson, and probably were not much valued; they are now in greater repute, and nothing will surpass them for rapidly and effectually covering any bare spaces.

I need scarcely add that the Ivy is so completely hardy that it will grow in any aspect and in any soil; that its flowers are the staple food of bees in the late autumn; and that all the varieties grow easily from cuttings at almost any time of the year.

FOOTNOTES:

[130:1] Sheep feeding on Ivy—

"My sheep have Honeysuckle bloom for pasture; Ivy grows In multitudes around them, and blossoms like the Rose."

THEOCRITUS, Idyll v. (Calverley).

[132:1]

"The Ivy-mesh Shading the Ethiop berries."—KEATS, Endymion.



KECKSIES.

Burgundy.

And nothing teems But hateful Docks, rough Thistles, Kecksies, Burs, Losing both beauty and utility.

Henry V, act v, sc. 2 (51).

Kecksies or Kecks are the dried and withered stems of the Hemlock, and the name is occasionally applied to the living plant. It seems also to have been used for any dry weeds—

"All the wyves of Tottenham came to se that syght, With Wyspes, and Kexis, and ryschys ther lyght, To fech hom ther husbandes, that wer tham trouth plyght."

"The Tournament of Tottenham," in RITSON'S Ancient Songs and Ballads.



KNOT-GRASS.

Lysander.

Get you gone, you dwarf; You minimus, of hindering Knot-grass made; You bead, you Acorn.

Midsummer Night's Dream, act iii, sc. 2 (328).

The Knot-grass is the Polygonum aviculare, a British weed, low, straggling, and many-jointed, hence its name of Knot-grass. There is no doubt that this is the plant meant, and its connection with a dwarf is explained by the belief, probably derived from some unrecorded character detected by the "doctrine of signatures," that the growth of children could be stopped by a diet of Knot-grass. Steevens quotes Beaumont and Fletcher to this effect, and this will probably explain the epithet "hindering." But there may be another explanation. Johnston tells us that in the north, "being difficult to cut in the harvest time, or to pull in the process of weeding, it has obtained the sobriquet of the Deil's-lingels." From this it may well be called "hindering," just as the Ononis, from the same habit of catching the plough and harrow, has obtained the prettier name of "Rest-harrow."

But though Shakespeare's Knot-grass is undoubtedly the Polygonum, yet the name was also given to another plant, for this cannot be the plant mentioned by Milton—

"The chewing flocks Had ta'en their supper on the savoury herb Of Knot-grass dew-besprent."—Comus.

In this case it must be one of the pasture Grasses, and may be Agrostis stolonifera, as it is said to be in Aubrey's "Natural History of Wilts" (Dr. Prior).



LADY-SMOCKS.

Song of Spring.

And Lady-smocks all silver-white, And Cuckoo-buds of yellow hue, Do paint the meadows with delight.

Love's Labour's Lost, act v, sc. 2 (905).

Lady-smocks are the flowers of Cardamine pratensis, the pretty early meadow flower of which children are so fond, and of which the popularity is shown by its many names: Lady-smocks, Cuckoo-flower,[134:1] Meadow Cress, Pinks, Spinks, Bog-spinks, and May-flower, and "in Northfolke, Canterbury Bells." The origin of the name is not very clear. It is generally explained from the resemblance of the flowers to smocks hung out to dry, but the resemblance seems to me rather far-fetched. According to another explanation, "the Lady-smock, a corruption of Our Lady's-smock, is so called from its first flowering about Lady-tide. It is a pretty purplish white, tetradynamous plant, which blows from Lady-tide till the end of May, and which during the latter end of April covers the moist meadows with its silvery-white, which looks at a distance like a white sheet spread over the fields."—Circle of the Seasons. Those who adopt this view called the plant Our Lady's-smock, but I cannot find that name in any old writers. Drayton, coeval with Shakespeare, says—

"Some to grace the show, Of Lady-smocks most white do rob each neighbouring mead, Wherewith their loose locks most curiously they braid."

And Isaac Walton, in the next century, drew that pleasant picture of himself sitting quietly by the waterside—"looking down the meadows I could see here a boy gathering Lilies and Lady-smocks, and there a girl cropping Culverkeys and Cowslips."[134:2]

There is a double variety of the Lady-smock which makes a handsome garden plant, and there is a remarkable botanical curiosity connected with the plant which should be noticed. The plant often produces in the autumn small plants upon the leaves, and by the means of these little parasites the plant is increased, and even if the leaves are detached from the plant, and laid upon moist congenial soil, young plants will be produced. This is a process that is well known to gardeners in the propagation of Begonias, and it is familiar to us in the proliferous Ferns, where young plants are produced on the surface or tips of the fronds; and Dr. Masters records "the same condition as a teratological occurrence in the leaves of Hyacinthus Pouzolsii, Drosera intermedia, Arabis pumila, Chelidonum majus, Chirita Sinensis, Epicia bicolor, Zamia, &c."—Vegetable Teratology, p. 170.

FOOTNOTES:

[134:1] "Ladies-smock.—A kind of water cresses, of whose virtue it partakes; and it is otherwise called Cuckoo-flower."—PHILLIPS, World of Words, 1696.

[134:2] Culverkeys is mentioned in Dennis' "Secrets of Angling" as a meadow flower: "pale Ganderglas, and azor Culverkayes." It is also mentioned by Aubrey, in his "Natural History of Wilts;" but the name is found in no other writer, and is now extinct. It is difficult to say what plant is meant; many have been suggested: the Columbine, the Meadow Orchis, the Bluebell, &c. I think it must be the Meadow Geranium, which is certainly "azor" almost beyond any other British plant. "Culver" is a dove or pigeon, and "keyes" or "kayes" are the seeds of a plant, and the seeds of the Geranium were all likened to the claws of birds, so that our British species is called G. columbinum.



LARK'S HEELS.

Larks heels trim.

Two Noble Kinsmen, Introd. song.

Lark's heels is one of the many names of the Garden Delphinium, otherwise called Larkspur, Larksclaw, Larkstoes.



LAUREL.

(1) Clarence.

To whom the heavens in thy nativity Adjudged an Olive branch and Laurel crown As likely to be blest in peace and war.

3rd Henry VI, act iv, sc. 6 (33).

(2) Titus.

Cometh Andronicus bound with Laurel boughs.

Titus Andronicus, act i, sc. 1 (74).

(3) Cleopatra.

Upon your sword Sit Laurel victory.

Antony and Cleopatra, act i, sc. 3 (99).

(4) Ulysses.

Prerogative of age, crowns, sceptres, Laurels.

Troilus and Cressida, act i, sc. 3 (107).

This is one of the plants which Shakespeare borrowed from the classical writers; it is not the Laurel of our day, which was not introduced till after his death,[136:1] but the Laurea Apollinis, the Laurea Delphica—

"The Laurel meed of mightie conquerors And poet's sage,"—SPENSER;

that is, the Bay. This is the tree mentioned by Gower—

"This Daphne into a Lorer tre Was turned, whiche is ever grene, In token, as yet it may be sene, That she shalle dwelle a maiden stille."

Conf. Aman. lib. terc.

There can be little doubt that the Laurel of Chaucer also was the Bay, the—

"Fresh grene Laurer tree That gave so passing a delicious smelle According to the Eglantere ful welle."

He also spoke of it as the emblem of enduring freshness—

"Myn herte and al my lymes be as grene As Laurer, through the yeer is for to seene."

The Marchaundes Tale.

The Laurel in Lyte's "Herbal" (the Lauriel or Lourye) seems to be the Daphne Laureola. But unconsciously Chaucer and Shakespeare spoke with more botanical accuracy than we do, the Bay being a true Laurel, while the Laurel is a Cherry (see BAY).

FOOTNOTES:

[136:1] The first Laurel grown in Europe was grown by Clusius in 1576.



LAVENDER.

Perdita.

Here's flowers for you; Hot Lavender, Mints, Savory, Marjoram.

Winter's Tale, act iv, sc. 4 (103).

The mention of Lavender always recalls Walton's pleasant picture of "an honest ale-house, where we shall find a cleanly room, Lavender in the windows, and twenty ballads stuck against the wall, and my hostess, I may tell you, is both cleanly and handsome and civil." Whether it is from this familiar, old-fashioned picture, or from some inherent charm in the plant, it is hard to say, but it is certain that the smell of Lavender is always associated with cleanliness and freshness.[137:1]

It is not a British plant, but is a native of the South of Europe in dry and barren places, and it was introduced into England in the sixteenth century, but it probably was not a common plant in Shakespeare's time, for though it is mentioned by Spenser as "the Lavender still gray" ("Muiopotmos"), and by Gerard as growing in his garden, it is not mentioned by Bacon in his list of sweet-smelling plants. The fine aromatic smell is found in all parts of the shrub, but the essential oil is only produced from the flowers. As a garden plant it is found in every garden, but its growth as an extensive field crop is chiefly confined to the neighbourhood of Mitcham and Carshalton in Surrey; and there at the time of the picking of the flowers, and still more in the later autumn when the old woody plants are burned, the air for a long distance is strongly and most pleasantly impregnated with the delicate perfume.

FOOTNOTES:

[137:1] The very name suggests this association. Lavender is the English form of the Latin name, Lavendula; "lavendula autem dicta quoniam magnum vectigal Genevensibus mercatoribus praebet quotannis in Africam eam ferentibus, ubi lavandis fovendisque corporibus Lybes ea utuntur, nec nisi decocto ejus abluti, mane domo egrediuntur."—Stephani Libellus de re Hortensi, 1536, p. 54. The old form of our "laundress" was "a Lavendre."



LEATHERCOAT, see APPLE.



LEEK.

(1) Thisbe.

His eyes were green as Leeks.

Midsummer Night's Dream, act v, sc. 1 (342).

(2) Pistol.

Tell him I'll knock his Leek about his pate upon Saint Davy's Day.

Henry V, act iv, sc. 1 (54).

(3) Fluellen.

If your majesties is remembered of it, the Welshmen did good service in a garden where Leeks did grow, wearing Leeks in their Monmouth caps; which your majesty knows to this hour is an honourable badge of the service; and I do believe your majesty takes no scorn to wear the Leek upon Saint Tavy's Day.

Ibid., act iv, sc. 7 (101).

(4)

In act v, sc. 1, is the encounter between Fluellen and Pistol, when he makes the bully eat the Leek; this causes such frequent mention of the Leek that it would be necessary to extract the whole scene, which, therefore, I will simply refer to in this way.

We can scarcely understand the very high value that was placed on Leeks in olden times. By the Egyptians the plant was almost considered sacred, "Porrum et caepe nefas violare et frangere morsu" (Juvenal); we know how Leeks were relished in Egypt by the Israelites; and among the Greeks they "appear to have constituted so important a part in ancient gardens, that the term prasia, or a bed, derived its name from prason, the Greek word for Onion," or Leek[138:1] (Daubeny); while among the Anglo-Saxons it was very much the same. The name is pure Anglo-Saxon, and originally meant any vegetable; then it was restricted to any bulbous vegetable, before it was finally further restricted to our Leek; and "its importance was considered so much above that of any other vegetable, that leac-tun, the Leek-garden, became the common name of the kitchen garden, and leac-ward, the Leek-keeper, was used to designate the gardener" (Wright). The plant in those days gave its name to the Broad Leek which is our present Leek, the Yne Leek or Onion, the Garleek (Garlick), and others of the same tribe, while it was applied to other plants of very different families, as the Hollow Leek (Corydalis cava), and the House Leek (Sempervivum tectorum).

It seems to have been considered the hardiest of all flowers. In the account of the Great Frost of 1608, "this one infallible token" is given in proof of its severity. "The Leek whose courage hath ever been so undaunted that he hath borne up his lusty head in all storms, and could never be compelled to shrink for hail, snow, frost, or showers, is now by the violence and cruelty of this weather beaten unto the earth, being rotted, dead, disgraced, and trod upon."

Its popularity still continues among the Welsh, by whom it is still, I believe, very largely cultivated; but it does not seem to have been much valued in England in Shakespeare's time, for Gerard has but little to say of its virtues, but much of its "hurts." "It hateth the body, ingendreth naughty blood, causeth troublesome and terrible dreames, offendeth the eyes, dulleth the sight, &c." Nor does Parkinson give a much more favourable account. "Our dainty eye now refuseth them wholly, in all sorts except the poorest; they are used with us sometimes in Lent to make pottage, and is a great and generall feeding in Wales with the vulgar gentlemen." It was even used as the proverbial expression of worthlessness, as in the "Roumaunt of the Rose," where the author says, speaking of "Phiciciens and Advocates"—

"For by her wille, without leese, Everi man shulde be seke, And though they die, they settle not a Leke."

And by Chaucer—

"And other suche, deare ynough a Leeke."

Prologue of the Chanoune's Tale.

"The beste song that ever was made Ys not worth a Leky's blade, But men will tend ther tille."

The Child of Bristowe.

FOOTNOTES:

[138:1] For a testimony of the high value placed on the Leek by the Greeks see a poem on Moly, in "Anonymi Carmen de Herbis" in the "Poetae Bucolici et didactici."



LEMON.

Biron.

A Lemon.

Longaville.

Stuck with Cloves.

Love's Labour's Lost, act v, sc. 2 (654).

See ORANGE AND CLOVES.



LETTUCE.

Iago.

If we will plant Nettles or sow Lettuce. (See HYSSOP.)

Othello, act i, sc. 3 (324).

This excellent vegetable with its Latin name probably came to us from the Romans.

"Letuce of lac derivyed is perchaunce; For milk it hath or yeveth abundaunce."

Palladius on Husbandrie, ii, 216 (15th cent.) E. E. Text Soc.

It was cultivated by the Anglo-Saxons, who showed their knowledge of its narcotic qualities by giving it the name of Sleepwort; it is mentioned by Spenser as "cold Lettuce" ("Muiopotmos"). And in Shakespeare's time the sorts cultivated were very similar to, and probably as good as, ours.



LILY.

(1) Iris.

Thy banks with Pioned and Lilied[140:1] brims.

Tempest, act iv, sc. 1 (64).

(2) Launce.

Look you, she is as white as a Lily and as small as a wand.

Two Gentlemen of Verona, act ii, sc. 3 (22).

(3) Julia.

The air hath starved the Roses in her cheeks, And pinch'd the Lily-tincture of her face.

Ibid., act iv, sc. 4 (160).

(4) Flute.

Most radiant Pyramus, most Lily-white of hue.

Midsummer Night's Dream, act iii, sc. 1 (94).

(5) Thisbe.

These Lily lips.

Ibid., act v, sc. 1 (337).

(6) Perdita.

Lilies of all kinds, The Flower-de-luce being one!

Winter's Tale, act iv, sc. 4 (126).

(7) Princess.

Now by my maiden honour, yet as pure As the unsullied Lily.

Love's Labour's Lost, act v, sc. 2 (351).

(8) Queen Katharine.

Like the Lily That once was mistress of the field and flourish'd, I'll hang my head, and perish.

Henry VIII, act iii, sc. 1 (151).

(9) Cranmer.

Yet a virgin, A most unspotted Lily shall she pass To the ground.

Ibid., act v, sc. 5 (61).

(10) Troilus.

Give me swift transportance to those fields, Where I may wallow in the Lily beds Proposed for the deserver.

Troilus and Cressida, act iii, sc. 2 (12).

(11) Marcus.

O, had the monster seen those Lily hands Tremble, like Aspen leaves, upon a lute.

Titus Andronicus, act ii, sc. 4 (44).

(12) Titus.

Fresh tears Stood on her cheeks as doth the honey-dew Upon a gather'd Lily almost wither'd.

Ibid., act iii, sc. 1 (111).

(13) Iachimo.

How bravely thou becomest thy bed, fresh Lily!

Cymbeline, act ii, sc. 2 (15).

(14) Guiderius.

O sweetest, fairest Lily! My brother wears thee not the one half so well, As when thou grew'st thyself.

Ibid., act iv, sc. 2 (201).

(15) Constance.

Of Nature's gifts thou may'st with Lilies boast, And with the half-blown Rose.

King John, act iii, sc. 1 (53).

(16) Salisbury.

To gild refined gold, to paint the Lily, To throw a perfume on the Violet,

* * * * *

Is wasteful and ridiculous excess.

Ibid., act iv, sc. 2 (11).

(17) Kent.

A Lily-livered, action-taking knave.

King Lear, act ii, sc. 2 (18).

(18) Macbeth

Thou Lily-liver'd boy.

Macbeth, act v, sc. 3 (15).

(19)

For sweetest things turn sourest by their deeds; Lilies that fester smell far worse than weeds.

Sonnet xciv.

(20)

Nor did I wonder at the Lily's white, Nor praise the deep vermilion of the Rose.

Ibid. xcviii.

(21)

The Lily I condemned for thy hand.

Ibid. xcix.

(22)

Their silent war of Lilies and of Roses Which Tarquin view'd in her fair face's field.

Lucrece (71).

(23)

Her Lily hand her rosy cheek lies under, Cozening the pillow of a lawful kiss.

Ibid. (386).

(24)

The colour in thy face That even for anger makes the Lily pale, And the red Rose blush at her own disgrace.

Ibid. (477).

(25)

A Lily pale with damask die to grace her.

Passionate Pilgrim (89).

(26)

Full gently now she takes him by the hand, A Lily prison'd in a jail of snow.

Venus and Adonis (361).

(27)

She locks her Lily fingers one in one.

Ibid. (228).

(28)

Whose wonted Lily white With purple tears, that his wound wept, was drench'd.

Ibid. (1053).

Which is the queen of flowers? There are two rival candidates for the honour—the Lily and the Rose; and as we look on the one or the other, our allegiance is divided, and we vote the crown first to one and then to the other. We should have no difficulty "were t'other fair charmer away," but with two such candidates, both equally worthy of the honour, we vote for a diarchy instead of a monarchy, and crown them both.[142:1] Yet there are many that would at once choose the Lily for the queen, and that without hesitation, and they would have good authority for their choice. "O Lord, that bearest rule," says Esdras, "of the whole world, Thou hast chosen Thee of all the flowers thereof one Lily." Spenser addresses the Lily as—

"The Lily, lady of the flow'ring field"—F. Q., ii, 6, 16,

which is the same as Shakespeare's "mistress of the field," (8), and many a poet since his time has given the same vote in many a pretty verse, which, however, it would take too much space to quote at length; so that I will content myself with these few lines by Alexander Montgomery (coeval with Shakespeare)—

"I love the Lily as the first of flowers Whose stately stalk so straight up is and stay; To whom th' lave ay lowly louts and cowers As bound so brave a beauty to obey."

Montgomery here has clearly in his mind's eye the Lily now so called; but the name was not so restricted in the earlier writers. "Lilium, cojus vox generali et licentiosa usurpatione adscribitur omni flori commendabili" (Laurembergius, 1632). This was certainly the case with the Greek and Roman writers, and it is so in our English Bible in most of the cases where the word is used, but perhaps not universally so. It is so used by Gower, describing Tarquin cutting off the tall flowers, by some said to be Poppies and by others Lilies—

"And in the garden as they gone, The Lilie croppes one and one, Where that they were sprongen out, He smote off, as they stood about."

Conf. Ama. lib. sept.

It is used in the same way by Bullein when, speaking of the flower of the Honeysuckle (see HONEYSUCKLE), and it must have been used in the same sense by Isaak Walton, when he saw a boy gathering "Lilies and Lady-smocks" in the meadows.

We have still many records of this loose way of speaking of the Lily, in the Water Lily, the Lily of the Valley, the Lent Lily, St. Bruno's Lily, the Scarborough Lily, the Belladonna Lily, and several others, none of which are true Lilies.

But it is time to come to Shakespeare's Lilies. In all the twenty-eight passages the greater portion simply recall the Lily as the type of elegance and beauty, without any special reference to the flower, and in many the word is only used to express a colour, Lily-white. But in the others he doubtless had some special plant in view, and there are two species which, from contemporary writers, seem to have been most celebrated in his day. The one is the pure White Lily (Lilium candidum), a plant of which the native country is not yet quite accurately ascertained. It is reported to grow wild in abundance in Lebanon, and it probably came to England from the East in very early times. It was certainly largely grown in Europe in the Middle Ages, and was universally acknowledged by artists, sculptors, and architects, as the emblem of female elegance and purity, and none of us would dispute its claim to such a position. There is no other Lily which can surpass it, when well grown, in stateliness and elegance, with sweet-scented flowers of the purest white and the most graceful shape, and crowning the top of the long leafy stem with such a coronal as no other plant can show. On the rare beauties and excellences of the White Lily it would be easy to fill a volume merely with extracts from old writers, and such a volume would be far from uninteresting. Those who wish for some such account may refer to the "Monographie Historique et Litteraire des Lis," par Fr. de Cannart d'Hamale, 1870. There they will find more than fifty pages of the botany, literary history, poetry, and medical uses of the plant, together with its application to religious emblems, numismatics, heraldry, painting, &c. Two short extracts will suffice here:—"Le lis blanc, surnomme la fleur des fleurs, les delices de Venus, la Rose de Junon, qu'Anguillara designa sous le nom d'Ambrosia, probablement a cause de son parfum suivant, et pent etre aussi de sa soidisante divine origine, se place tout naturellement a le tete de ce groupe splendide." "C'est le Lis classique, par excellence, et en meme temps le plus beau du genre."