Folk-lore of Shakespeare Part 33

[333] See Baring-Gould's "Curious Myths of the Middle Ages,"

1877, p. 561; Thorpe's "Northern Mythology," 1852, vol. iii.

pp. 302-328.

_Ta.s.sel-Gentle._[334] The male of the goshawk was so called on account of its tractable disposition, and the facility with which it was tamed.

The word occurs in "Romeo and Juliet" (ii. 2):

"O, for a falconer's voice To lure this ta.s.sel-gentle back again!"

[334] Properly "tiercel gentle," French, _tiercelet_; cf.

"Troilus and Cressida," iii. 2, "the falcon as the tercel."

Spenser, in his "Fairy Queen" (bk. iii. c. iv. l. 49), says:

"Having far off espied a ta.s.sel-gent Which after her his nimble wings doth straine."

This species of hawk was also commonly called a "falcon-gentle," on account of "her familiar, courteous disposition."[335]

[335] "Gentleman's Recreation," p. 19, quoted in Nares's "Glossary," vol. ii. p. 867.

_Turkey._ This bird, so popular with us at Christmas-tide, is mentioned in "1 Henry IV." (ii. 1), where the First Carrier says: "G.o.d's body! the turkeys in my pannier are quite starved." This, however, is an anachronism on the part of Shakespeare, as the turkey was unknown in this country until the reign of Henry VIII. According to a rhyme written in 1525, commemorating the introduction of this bird, we are told how:

"Turkies, carps, hoppes, piccarell, and beere, Came into England all in one yeare."

The turkey is again mentioned by Shakespeare in "Twelfth Night" (ii. 5), where Fabian says of Malvolio: "Contemplation makes a rare turkey-c.o.c.k of him: how he jets under his advanced plumes!"

_Vulture._ In several pa.s.sages Shakespeare has most forcibly introduced this bird to deepen the beauty of some of his exquisite pa.s.sages. Thus, in "King Lear" (ii. 4), when he is complaining of the unkindness of a daughter, he bitterly exclaims:

"O Regan, she hath tied Sharp-tooth'd unkindness, like a vulture, here."

What, too, can be more graphic than the expression of Tamora in "t.i.tus Andronicus" (v. 2):

"I am Revenge, sent from the infernal kingdom, To ease the gnawing vulture of thy mind."

Equally forcible, too, are Pistol's words in "The Merry Wives of Windsor" (i. 3): "Let vultures gripe thy guts."

Johnson considers that "the vulture of sedition" in "2 Henry VI." (iv.

3) is in allusion to the tale of Prometheus, but of this there is a decided uncertainty.

_Wagtail._ In "King Lear" (ii. 2), Kent says, "Spare my grey beard, you wagtail?" the word being used in an opprobrious sense, to signify an officious person.

_Woodc.o.c.k._ In several pa.s.sages this bird is used to denote a fool or silly person; as in "Taming of the Shrew" (i. 2): "O this woodc.o.c.k! what an a.s.s it is!" And again, in "Much Ado About Nothing" (v. 1), where Claudio, alluding to the plot against Bened.i.c.k, says: "Shall I not find a woodc.o.c.k too?" In "Love's Labour's Lost" (iv. 3) Biron says:

"O heavens, I have my wis.h.!.+

Dumain transformed: four woodc.o.c.ks in a dish."

The woodc.o.c.k has generally been proverbial as a foolish bird-perhaps because it is easily caught in springes or nets.[336] Thus the popular phrase "Springes to catch woodc.o.c.ks" meant arts to entrap simplicity,[337] as in "Hamlet" (i. 3):

"Aye, springes to catch woodc.o.c.ks."

[336] Dyce's "Glossary," p. 508.

[337] Nares's "Glossary," vol. ii. p. 971.

A similar expression occurs in Beaumont and Fletcher's "Loyal Subject"

(iv. 4):

"Go like a woodc.o.c.k, And thrust your neck i' th' noose."

"It seems," says Nares, "that woodc.o.c.ks are now grown wiser by time, for we do not now hear of their being so easily caught. If they were sometimes said to be without brains, it was only founded on their character, certainly not on any examination of the fact."[338] Formerly, one of the terms for twilight[339] was "c.o.c.k-shut time," because the net in which c.o.c.ks, _i. e._, woodc.o.c.ks, were shut in during the twilight, was called a "c.o.c.k-shut." It appears that a large net was stretched across a glade, and so suspended upon poles as to be easily drawn together. Thus, in "Richard III." (v. 3), Ratcliff says:

"Thomas the Earl of Surrey, and himself, Much about c.o.c.k-shut time, from troop to troop, Went through the army, cheering up the soldiers."

[338] See Willughby's "Ornithology," iii. section 1.

[339] Minsheu's "Guide into Tongues," ed. 1617.

In Ben Jonson's "Masque of Gypsies" we read:

"Mistress, this is only spite; For you would not yesternight Kiss him in the c.o.c.k-shut light."

Sometimes it was erroneously written "c.o.c.k-shoot." "Come, come away then, a fine c.o.c.k-shoot evening." In the "Two n.o.ble Kinsmen" (iv. 1) we find the term "c.o.c.k-light."

_Wren._ The diminutive character of this bird is noticed in "A Midsummer-Night's Dream" (iii. 1, song):

"The wren with little quill."

In "Macbeth" (iv. 2), Lady Macbeth says:

"the poor wren, The most diminutive of birds, will fight, Her young ones in her nest, against the owl."

Considering, too, that as many as sixteen young ones have been found in this little bird's nest, we can say with Grahame, in his poem on the birds of Scotland:

"But now behold the greatest of this train Of miracles, stupendously minute; The numerous progeny, claimant for food Supplied by two small bills, and feeble wings Of narrow range, supplied-ay, duly fed- Fed in the dark, and yet not one forgot."

The epithet "poor," applied to the wren by Lady Macbeth, was certainly appropriate in days gone by, when we recollect how it was cruelly hunted in Ireland on St. Stephen's day-a practice which prevailed also in the Isle of Man.[340]

[340] See Yarrell's "History of British Birds," vol. ii. p. 178.

CHAPTER VII.

ANIMALS.

As in the case of the birds considered in the previous chapter, Shakespeare has also interwoven throughout his plays an immense deal of curious folk-lore connected with animals. Not only does he allude with the accuracy of a naturalist to the peculiarities and habits of certain animals, but so true to nature is he in his graphic descriptions of them that it is evident his knowledge was in a great measure acquired from his own observation. It is interesting, also, to note how carefully he has, here and there, worked into his narrative some old proverb or superst.i.tion, thereby adding a freshness to the picture which has, if possible, imbued it with an additional l.u.s.tre. In speaking of the dog, he has introduced many an old hunting custom, and his references to the tears of the deer are full of sweet pathos, as, for instance, where Hamlet says (iii. 2), "Let the stricken deer go weep." It is not necessary, however, to add further ill.u.s.trations, as these will be found in the following pages.