The plant-lore & garden-craft of Shakespeare Part 118

(book xxi. cap. 8). And again, "There is a hearbe growing commonly in medows, called the Daisie, with a white floure, and partly inclining to red, which, if it is joined with Mugwort in an ointment, is thought to make the medicine farre more effectual for the King's evil" (book xxvi.

cap. 5).

We have no less than three legends of the origin of the flower. In one legend, not older, I believe, than the fourteenth century (the legend is given at full length by Chaucer in his "Legende of Goode Women"), Alcestis was turned into a Daisy. Another legend records that "this plant is called Bellis, because it owes its origin to Belides, a granddaughter to Danaus, and one of the nymphs called Dryads, that presided over the meadows and pastures in ancient times. Belides is said to have encouraged the suit of Ephigeus, but whilst dancing on the gra.s.s with this rural deity she attracted the admiration of Vertumnus, who, just as he was about to seize her in his embrace, saw her transformed into the humble plant that now bears her name." This legend I have only seen in Phillips's "Flora Historica." I need scarcely tell you that neither Belides or Ephigeus are cla.s.sical names--they are mediaeval inventions. The next legend is a Celtic one; I find it recorded both by Lady Wilkinson and Mrs. Lankester. I should like to know its origin; but with that grand contempt for giving authorities which lady-authors too often show, neither of these ladies tells us whence she got the legend.

The legend says that "the virgins of Morven, to soothe the grief of Malvina, who had lost her infant son, sang to her, 'We have seen, O!

Malvina, we have seen the infant you regret, reclining on a light mist; it approached us, and shed on our fields a harvest of new flowers. Look, O! Malvina. Among these flowers we distinguish one with a golden disk surrounded by silver leaves; a sweet tinge of crimson adorns its delicate rays; waved by a gentle wind, we might call it a little infant playing in a green meadow; and the flower of thy bosom has given a new flower to the hills of Cromla.'" Since that day the daughters of Morven have consecrated the Daisy to infancy. "It is," said they, "the flower of innocence, the flower of the newborn." Besides these legends, the Daisy is also connected with the legendary history of St. Margaret. The legend is given by Chaucer, but I will tell it to you in the words of a more modern poet--

"There is a double flouret, white and rede, That our la.s.ses call Herb Margaret In honour of Cortona's penitent; Whose contrite soul with red remorse was rent.

While on her penitence kind Heaven did throwe The white of puritie surpa.s.sing snowe; So white and rede in this faire floure entwine, Which maids are wont to scatter on her shrine."

_Catholic Florist_, Feb. 22, St. Margaret's Day.

Yet, in spite of the general a.s.sociation of Daisies with St. Margaret, Mrs. Jameson says that she has seen one, and only one, picture of St.

Margaret with Daisies.

The poetry or poetical history of the Daisy is very curious. It begins with Chaucer, whose love of the flower might almost be called an idolatry. But, as it begins with Chaucer, so, for a time, it almost ends with him. Spenser, Shakespeare, and Milton scarcely mention it. It holds almost no place in the poetry of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries; but, at the close of the eighteenth century, it has the good luck to be uprooted by Burns's plough, and he at once sings its dirge and its beauties; and then the flower at once becomes a celebrity.

Wordsworth sings of it in many a beautiful verse; and I think it is scarcely too much to say that since his time not an English poet has failed to pay his homage to the humble beauty of the Daisy. I do not purpose to take you through all these poets--time and knowledge would fail me to introduce you to them all. I shall but select some of those which I consider best worth selection. I begin, of course, with Chaucer, and even with him I must content myself with a selection--

"Of all the floures in the mede, Then love I most those floures white and redde; Such that men callen Daisies in our town.

To them I have so great affection, As I said erst when comen is the Maye, That in my bedde there dawneth me no daie, That I n'am up and walking in the mede To see this floure against the sunne sprede.

When it upriseth early by the morrow, That blessed sight softeneth all my sorrow.

So glad am I, when that I have presence Of it, to done it all reverence-- As she that is of all floures the floure, Fulfilled of all virtue and honoure; And ever ylike fair and fresh of hue, And ever I love it, and ever ylike new, And ever shall, till that mine heart die, All swear I not, of this I will not lye.

There loved no wight hotter in his life, And when that it is eve, I run blithe, As soon as ever the sun gaineth west, To see this floure, how it will go to rest.

For fear of night, so hateth she darkness, Her cheer is plainly spread in the brightness Of the sunne, for there it will unclose; Alas, that I ne had English rhyme or prose Suffisaunt this floure to praise aright."

I could give you several other quotations from Chaucer, but I will content myself with this, for I think unbounded admiration of a flower can scarcely go further than the lines I have read to you.

In an early poem published by Ritson is the following--

"Lenten ys come with love to toune With blosmen ant with briddes roune That al thys blisse bryngeth; Dayeseyes in this dales, Notes suete of nyghtegales Vch foul song singeth."

_Ancient Songs and Ballads_, vol. i, p. 63.

Stephen Hawes, who lived in the time of Henry VII., wrote a poem called the "Temple of Gla.s.s." In that temple he tells us--

"I saw depycted upon a wall, From est to west, fol many a fayre image Of sundry lovers. . . . ."

And among these lovers--

"And Alder next was the freshe quene, I mean Alceste, the n.o.ble true wife, And for Admete howe she lost her life, And for her trouthe, if I shall not lye, How she was turned into a Daysye."

We next come to Spenser. In the "Muiopotmos," he gives a list of flowers that the b.u.t.terfly frequents, with most descriptive epithets to each flower most happily chosen. Among the flowers are--

"The Roses raigning in the pride of May, Sharp Isope good for greene woundes' remedies, Faire Marigoldes, and bees-alluring Thyme, Sweet Marjoram, and Daysies decking prime."

By "decking prime" he means they are the ornament of the morning.[366:1]

Again he introduces the Daisy in a stanza of much beauty, that commences the June Eclogue of the "Shepherd's Calendar."

"Lo! Colin, here the place whose pleasaunt syte From other shades hath weand my wandring minde.

Tell me, what wants me here to work delyte?

The simple ayre, the gentle warbling winde, So calm, so cool, as no where else I finde; The Gra.s.sie ground, with daintie Daysies dight; The Bramble bush, where byrdes of every kinde To the waters' fall their tunes attemper right."

From Spenser we come to Shakespeare, and when we remember the vast acquaintance with flowers of every kind that he shows, and especially when we remember how often he almost seems to go out of his way to tell of the simple wild flowers of England, it is surprising that the Daisy is almost pa.s.sed over entirely by him. Here are the pa.s.sages in which he names the flowers. First, in the poem of the "Rape of Lucrece," he has a very pretty picture of Lucrece as she lay asleep--

"Without the bed her other faire hand was On the green coverlet, whose perfect white Showed like an April Daisy on the Gra.s.s."

In "Love's Labour's Lost" is the song of Spring, beginning--

"When Daisies pied, and Violets blue; And Lady-smocks all silver-white, And Cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight."

In "Hamlet" Daisies are twice mentioned in connection with Ophelia in her madness. "There's a Daisy!" she said, as she distributed her flowers; but she made no comment on the Daisy as she did on her other flowers. And, in the description of her death, the Queen tells us that--

"There with fantastick garlands did she come Of Crow-flowers, Nettles, Daisies, and Long Purples."

And in "Cymbeline" the General Lucius gives directions for the burial of Cloten--

"Let us Find out the prettiest Daisied plot we can, And make him with our pikes and partisans A grave."

And in the introductory song to the "Two n.o.ble Kinsmen," which is claimed by some as Shakespeare's, we find among the other flowers of spring--

"Daisies smel-lesse, yet most quaint."

These are the only places in which the Daisy is mentioned in Shakespeare's plays, and it is a little startling to find that of these six one is in a song for clowns, and two others are connected with the poor mad princess. I hope that you will not use Shakespeare's authority against me, that to talk of Daisies is only fit for clowns and madmen.

Contemporary with Shakespeare was Cutwode, who in the "Caltha Poetarum,"

published in 1599, thus describes the Daisy--

"On her attends the Daisie dearly dight that pretty Primula of Lady Ver As handmaid to her Mistresse day and night so doth she watch, so waiteth she on her, With double diligence, and dares not stir, A fairer flower perfumes not forth in May Then is this Daisie or this Primula.

About her neck she wears a rich wrought ruffe, with double sets most brave and broad bespread, Resembling lovely Lawn or Cambrick stuffe pind up and p.r.i.c.kt upon her yealow head, Wearing her haire on both sides of her shead; And with her countenance she hath acast Wagging the waton with each wynd and blast."

Stanza 21, 22.

Drayton, in the "Polyolbion," 15th Song, represents the Naiads engaged in twining garlands for the marriage of Tame and Isis, and considering that he--

"Should not be dressed with flowers to garden that belong (His bride that better fitteth), but only such as spring From the replenisht meads and fruitful pasture neere,"

they collect among other wild flowers--

"The Daysie over all those sundry sweets so thick As nature doth herself, to imitate her right; Who seems in that her pearle so greatly to delight That every plaine therewith she powdereth to beholde."

And to the same effect, in his "Description of Elysium"--

"There Daisies damask every place, Nor once their beauties lose, That when proud Phbus turns his face, Themselves they scorn to close."

Browne, contemporary with Shakespeare, has these pretty lines on the Daisy--

"The Daisy scattered on each mead and down, A golden tuft within a silver crown; (Fair fall that dainty flower! and may there be No shepherd graced that doth not honour thee!)."

_Brit. Past._, ii. 3.