Folk-lore of Shakespeare Part 45

In the same play we read of "the ebon-coloured ink" (i. 1), and in "Venus and Adonis" (948) of "Death's ebon dart."

_Elder._ This plant, while surrounded by an extensive folk-lore, has from time immemorial possessed an evil reputation, and been regarded as one of bad omen. According to a popular tradition "Judas was hanged on an elder," a superst.i.tion mentioned by Biron in "Love's Labour's Lost"

(v. 2); and also by Ben Jonson in "Every Man Out of His Humour" (iv. 4): "He shall be your Judas, and you shall be his elder-tree to hang on." In "Piers Plowman's Vision" (ll. 593-596) we are told how

"Judas, he j.a.ped With jewen silver, And sithen on an eller Hanged hymselve."

So firmly rooted was this belief in days gone by that Sir John Mandeville tells us in his Travels, which he wrote in 1364, that he was actually shown the identical tree at Jerusalem, "And faste by is zit, the tree of Elder that Judas henge himself upon, for despeyr that he hadde when he solde and betrayed oure Lord." This tradition no doubt, in a great measure, helped to give it its bad fame, causing it to be spoken of as "the stinking elder." Shakespeare makes it an emblem of grief. In "Cymbeline" (iv. 2) Arviragus says:

"Grow, patience!

And let the stinking elder, grief, untwine His peris.h.i.+ng root with the increasing vine!"

The dwarf elder[491] (_Sambucus ebulus_) is said only to grow where blood has been shed either in battle or in murder. The Welsh call it "Llysan gward gwyr," or "plant of the blood of man." Shakespeare, perhaps, had this piece of folk-lore in mind when he represents Ba.s.sia.n.u.s, in "t.i.tus Andronicus" (ii. 4), as killed at a pit beneath an elder-tree:

"This is the pit and this the elder tree."

[491] "Flower-Lore," p. 35.

_Eringoes._ These were formerly said to be strong provocatives, and as such are mentioned by Falstaff in "Merry Wives of Windsor" (v. 5): "Let the sky rain potatoes; let it thunder to the tune of Green Sleeves, hail kissing comfits, and snow eringoes." Mr. Ellacombe[492] thinks that in this pa.s.sage the globe artichoke is meant, "which is a near ally of the eryngium, and was a favorite dish in Shakespeare's time."

[492] "Plant-Lore of Shakespeare," p. 66.

_Fennel._ This was generally considered as an inflammatory herb; and to eat "conger and fennel" was "to eat two high and hot things together,"

which was an act of libertinism.[493] Thus in "2 Henry IV." (ii. 4) Falstaff says of Poins, he "eats conger and fennel." Mr. Beisly states[494] that fennel was used as a sauce with fish hard of digestion, being aromatic, and as the old writers term it, "hot in the third degree." One of the herbs distributed by poor Ophelia, in her distraction, is fennel, which she offers either as a cordial or as an emblem of flattery: "There's fennel for you, and columbines."

[493] Nares's "Glossary," vol. i. p. 302; Dyce's "Glossary," p. 159.

[494] "Shakspere's Garden," p. 158.

Mr. Staunton, however, considers that fennel here signifies _l.u.s.t_, while Mr. Beisly thinks its reputed property of clearing the sight is alluded to. It is more probable that it denotes flattery; especially as, in Shakespeare's time, it was regarded as emblematical of flattery. In this sense it is often quoted by old writers. In Greene's "Quip for an Upstart Courtier," we read, "Fennell I meane for flatterers." In "Phyala Lachrymarum"[495] we find:

"Nor fennel-finkle bring for flattery, Begot of his, and fained courtesie."

[495] Quoted in Nares's "Glossary," vol. i. p. 303.

_Fern._ According to a curious notion fern-seed was supposed to possess the power of rendering persons invisible. Hence it was a most important object of superst.i.tion, being gathered mystically, especially on Midsummer Eve. It was believed at one time to have neither flower nor seed; the seed, which lay on the back of the leaf, being so small as to escape the detection of the hasty observer. On this account, probably, proceeding on the fantastic doctrine of signatures, our ancestors derived the notion that those who could obtain and wear this invisible seed would be themselves invisible: a belief which is referred to in "1 Henry IV." (ii. 1):

"_Gads.h.i.+ll._ We have the receipt of fern-seed, we walk invisible.

_Chamberlain._ Nay, by my faith, I think you are more beholding to the night, than to fern-seed, for your walking invisible."

This superst.i.tion is mentioned by many old writers; a proof of its popularity in times past. It is alluded to in Beaumont and Fletcher's "Fair Maid of the Inn" (i. 1):

"Did you think that you had Gyges' ring?

Or the herb that gives invisibility?"

Again, in Ben Jonson's "New Inn" (i. 1):

"I had No medicine, sir, to go invisible, No fern-seed in my pocket."

As recently as Addison's day, we are told in the _Tatler_ (No. 240) that "it was impossible to walk the streets without having an advertis.e.m.e.nt thrust into your hand of a doctor who had arrived at the knowledge of the green and red dragon, and had discovered the female fern-seed."[496]

[496] See Brand's "Pop. Antiq.," 1849, vol. i. pp. 314-316.

_Fig._ Formerly the term fig served as a common expression of contempt, and was used to denote a thing of the least importance. Hence the popular phrase, "not to care a fig for one;" a sense in which it is sometimes used by Shakespeare, who makes Pistol say, in "Merry Wives of Windsor" (i. 3), "a fico for the phrase!" and in "Henry V." (iii. 6) Pistol exclaims, "figo for thy friends.h.i.+p!" In "Oth.e.l.lo" (i. 3) Iago says, "Virtue! a fig!"

The term "to give or make the fig," as an expression of insult, has for many ages been very prevalent among the nations of Europe, and, according to Douce,[497] was known to the Romans. It consists in thrusting the thumb between two of the closed fingers, or into the mouth, a practice, as some say,[498] in allusion to a contemptuous punishment inflicted on the Milanese, by the Emperor Frederic Barbarossa, in 1162, when he took their city. This, however, is altogether improbable, the real origin, no doubt, being a coa.r.s.e representation of a disease, to which the name of _ficus_ or fig has always been given.[499]

[497] "Ill.u.s.trations of Shakespeare," pp. 302-308.

[498] See Nares's "Glossary," vol. i. p. 305.

[499] See Gifford's note on Jonson's Works, vol. i. p. 52; Dyce's "Glossary," p. 161; Du Cange's "Glossary;" Connelly's "Spanish and English Dictionary," 4to.

The "fig of Spain," spoken of in "Henry V." (iii. 6), may either allude to the poisoned fig employed in Spain as a secret way of destroying an obnoxious person, as in Webster's "White Devil:"[500]

"I do look now for a Spanish fig, or an Italian salad, daily;"

and in s.h.i.+rley's "Brothers:"[501]

"I must poison him; One fig sends him to Erebus;"

or it may, as Mr. Dyce remarks,[502] simply denote contempt or insult in the sense already mentioned.

[500] Edited by Dyce, 1857, p. 30.

[501] Edited by Gifford and Dyce, vol. i. p. 231.

[502] "Glossary," p. 161.

_Flower-de-luce._ The common purple iris which adorns our gardens is now generally agreed upon as the fleur-de-luce, a corruption of fleur de Louis-being spelled either fleur-de-lys or fleur-de-lis. It derives its name from Louis VII., King of France, who chose this flower as his heraldic emblem when setting forth on his crusade to the Holy Land. It had already been used by the other French kings, and by the emperors of Constantinople; but it is still a matter of dispute among antiquarians as to what it was originally intended to represent. Some say a flower, some a toad, some a halbert-head. It is uncertain what plant is referred to by Shakespeare when he alludes to the flower-de-luce in the following pa.s.sage[503] in "2 Henry VI." (v. 1), where the Duke of York says:

"A sceptre shall it have,-have I a soul,- On which I'll toss the flower-de-luce of France."

[503] See "Winter's Tale," iv. 3; "Henry V.," v. 2; "1 Henry VI.," i. 1.

In "1 Henry VI." (i. 2) Pucelle declares:

"I am prepared; here is my keen-edged sword, Deck'd with five flower-de-luces on each side."

Some think the lily is meant, others the iris. For the lily theory, says Mr. Ellacombe,[504] "there are the facts that Shakespeare calls it one of the lilies, and that the other way of spelling is fleur-de-lys."

[504] "Plant-Lore of Shakespeare," p. 73.

Chaucer seems to connect it with the lily ("Canterbury Tales," Prol.

238):

"Her nekke was white as the flour-de-lis."