Folk-lore of Shakespeare Part 20

(iii. 2), some modern editions read "ouzle;" the old editions all have _weasel_, which is now adopted.

_Buzzard._ Mr. Staunton suggests that in the following pa.s.sage of the "Taming of the Shrew" (ii. 1) a play is intended upon the words, and that in the second line "buzzard" means a beetle, from its peculiar buzzing noise:

"_Pet._ O slow-wing'd turtle! shall a buzzard take thee?

_Kath._ Ay, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard."

The beetle was formerly called a buzzard; and in Staffords.h.i.+re, a c.o.c.kchafer is termed a hum-buz. In Northamptons.h.i.+re we find a proverb, "I'm between a hawk and a buzzard," which means, "I don't know what to do, or how to act."[158]

[158] Miss Baker's "Northamptons.h.i.+re Glossary," 1854, vol. i.

p. 94. See Nares's "Glossary," 1872, vol. i. p. 124; and "Richard III.," i. 1.

_Chaffinch._ Some think that this bird is alluded to in the song in the "Midsummer-Night's Dream" (iii. 1), where the expression "finch" is used; the chaffinch having always been a favorite cage-bird with the lower cla.s.ses.[159] In "Troilus and Cressida" (v. 1) Thersites calls Patroclus a "finch-egg," which was evidently meant as a term of reproach. Others, again, consider the phrase as equivalent to c.o.xcomb.

[159] Harting's "Ornithology of Shakespeare," p. 144; Halliwell-Phillipps's "Handbook Index to Shakespeare," 1866, p.

187. The term finch, also, according to some, may mean either the bullfinch or goldfinch.

_Chough._ In using this word Shakespeare probably, in most cases, meant the jackdaw;[160] for in "A Midsummer-Night's Dream" (iii. 2) he says:

"russet-pated choughs, many in sort, Rising and cawing at the gun's report;"

the term russet-pated being applicable to the jackdaw, but not to the real chough. In "1 Henry IV." (v. 1). Prince Henry calls Falstaff _chewet_-"Peace, chewet, peace"-in allusion, no doubt, to the chough or jackdaw, for common birds have always had a variety of names.[161] Such an appellation would be a proper reproach to Falstaff, for his meddling and impertinent talk. Steevens and Malone, however, finding that _chewets_ were little round pies made of minced meat, thought that the Prince compared Falstaff, for his unseasonable chattering, to a minced pie. Cotgrave[162] describes the French _chouette_ as an owlet; also, a "chough," which many consider to be the simple and satisfactory explanation of _chewet_. Belon, in his "History of Birds" (Paris, 1855), speaks of the _chouette_ as the smallest kind of chough or crow. Again, in "1 Henry IV." (ii. 2), in the amusing scene where Falstaff, with the Prince and Poins, meet to rob the travellers at Gads.h.i.+ll, Falstaff calls the victims "fat chuffs," probably, says Mr. Harting, who connects the word with chough, from their strutting about with much noise.

Nares,[163] too, in his explanation of _chuff_, says, that some suppose it to be from chough, which is similarly p.r.o.nounced, and means a kind of sea-bird, generally esteemed a stupid one. Various other meanings are given. Thus, Mr. Gifford[164] affirms that _chuff_ is always used in a bad sense, and means "a coa.r.s.e, unmannered clown, at once sordid and wealthy;" and Mr. Halliwell-Phillipps explains it as spoken in contempt for a fat person.[165] In Northamptons.h.i.+re,[166] we find the word chuff used to denote a person in good condition, as in Clare's "Village Minstrel:"

"His chuff cheeks dimpling in a fondling smile."

[160] See Yarrell's "History of British Birds," 2d edition, vol. ii. p. 58.

[161] Nares's "Glossary," vol. i. p. 156; Singer's "Shakespeare," 1875, vol. v. p. 115; Dyce's "Glossary," 1876, p. 77.

[162] Mr. Dyce says that if Dr. Latham had been acquainted with the article "Chouette," in Cotgrave, he would not probably have suggested that Shakespeare meant here the lapwing or pewit.

Some consider the magpie is meant. See Halliwell-Phillipps's "Handbook Index to Shakespeare," 1866, p. 83. Professor Newton would read "russet-patted," or "red-legged," thinking that Shakespeare meant the chough.

[163] "Glossary," vol. i. p. 162; Singer's "Notes to Shakespeare," 1875, vol. v. p. 42.

[164] Ma.s.singer's Works, 1813, vol. i. p. 281.

[165] "Handbook Index to Shakespeare," 1866, p. 86.

[166] Miss Baker's "Northamptons.h.i.+re Glossary," 1854, vol. i.

p. 116.

Shakespeare alludes to the practice of teaching choughs to talk, although from the following pa.s.sages he does not appear to have esteemed their talking powers as of much value; for in "All's Well That Ends Well" (iv. 1), he says: "Choughs' language, gabble enough, and good enough." And in "The Tempest" (ii. 1), he represents Antonio as saying:

"There be that can rule Naples As well as he that sleeps; lords that can prate As amply and unnecessarily As this Gonzalo; I myself could make A chough of as deep chat."

Shakespeare always refers to the jackdaw as the "daw."[167] The chough or jackdaw was one of the birds considered ominous by our forefathers, an allusion to which occurs in "Macbeth" (iii. 4):

"Augurs and understood relations have, By magot-pies and choughs and rooks brought forth The secret'st man of blood."

[167] "Coriola.n.u.s," iv. 5; "Troilus and Cressida," i. 2; "Much Ado About Nothing," ii. 3; "Twelfth Night," iii. 4; "Love's Labour's Lost," v. 2, song; "1 Henry VI." ii. 4.

At the present day this bird is not without its folk-lore, and there is a Norwich rhyme to the following effect:[168]

"When three daws are seen on St. Peter's vane together, Then we're sure to have bad weather."

In the north of England,[169] too, the flight of jackdaws down the chimney is held to presage death.

[168] Swainson's "Weather-Lore," 1873, p. 240.

[169] Henderson's "Folk-Lore of Northern Counties," 1879, p. 48.

_c.o.c.k._ The beautiful notion which represents the c.o.c.k as crowing all night long on Christmas Eve, and by its vigilance dispelling every kind of malignant spirit[170] and evil influence is graphically mentioned in "Hamlet" (i. 1), where Marcellus, speaking of the ghost, says:

"It faded on the crowing of the c.o.c.k.

Some say, that ever 'gainst that season comes Wherein our Saviour's birth is celebrated, The bird of dawning singeth all night long.

And then, they say, no spirit dares stir abroad; The nights are wholesome; then no planets strike, No fairy takes, nor witch hath power to charm, So hallow'd and so gracious is the time."

[170] See Douce's "Ill.u.s.trations of Shakespeare," p. 438.

In short, there is a complete prostration of the powers of darkness; and thus, for the time being, mankind is said to be released from the influence of all those evil forces which otherwise exert such sway. The notion that spirits fly at c.o.c.k-crow is very ancient, and is mentioned by the Christian poet Prudentius, who flourished in the beginning of the fourth century. There is also a hymn, said to have been composed by St.

Ambrose, and formerly used in the Salisbury Service, which so much resembles the following speech of Horatio (i. 1), that one might almost suppose Shakespeare had seen it:[171]

"The c.o.c.k, that is the trumpet to the morn, Doth with his lofty and shrill-sounding throat Awake the G.o.d of day; and, at his warning, Whether in sea or fire, in earth or air, The extravagant and erring spirit hies To his confine."

[171] See Ibid.

This disappearance of spirits at c.o.c.k-crow is further alluded to (i.

2):[172]

"the morning c.o.c.k crew loud, And at the sound it shrunk in haste away, And vanished from our sight."

[172] See Brand's "Pop. Antiq.," 1849, vol. ii. pp. 51-57; Hampson's "Medii vi Kalendarium," vol. i. p. 84.

Blair, too, in his "Grave," has these graphic words:

"the tale Of horrid apparition, tall and ghastly, That walks at dead of night, or takes his stand O'er some new-open'd grave, and, strange to tell, Evanishes at crowing of the c.o.c.k."

This superst.i.tion has not entirely died out in England, and a correspondent of "Notes and Queries"[173] relates an amusing legend current in Devons.h.i.+re: "Mr. N. was a squire who had been so unfortunate as to sell his soul to the devil, with the condition that after his funeral the fiend should take possession of his skin. He had also persuaded a neighbor to be present on the occasion of the flaying. On the death of Mr. N. this man went, in a state of great alarm, to the parson of the parish, and asked his advice. By him he was told to fulfil his engagement, but he must be sure and carry a c.o.c.k into the church with him. On the night after the funeral the man proceeded to the church, armed with the c.o.c.k, and, as an additional security, took up his position in the parson's pew. At twelve o'clock the devil arrived, opened the grave, took the corpse from the coffin, and flayed it. When the operation was concluded, he held the skin up before him and remarked, 'Well, 'twas not worth coming for after all, for it is all full of holes!' As he said this the c.o.c.k crew, whereupon the fiend, turning round to the man, exclaimed, 'If it had not been for the bird you have got there under your arm, I would have your skin too!' But, thanks to the c.o.c.k, the man got home safe again." Various origins have been a.s.signed to this superst.i.tion, which Hampson[174] regards as a misunderstood tradition of some Sabaean fable. The c.o.c.k, he adds, which seems by its early voice to call forth the sun, was esteemed a sacred solar bird; hence it was also sacred to Mercury, one of the personifications of the sun.

[173] 1st series, vol. iii. p. 404.

[174] "Medii vi Kalendarium," vol. i. p. 85.

A very general amus.e.m.e.nt, up to the end of the last century, was c.o.c.k-fighting, a diversion of which mention is occasionally made by Shakespeare, as in "Antony and Cleopatra" (ii. 3):

"His c.o.c.ks do win the battle still of mine, When it is all to nought."

And again Hamlet says (v. 2):