book vi
.
FOOTNOTES:
[167:1] The Dictionarius of John de Garlande is published in Wright's "Vocabularies." His garden was probably in the neighbourhood of Paris, but he was a thorough Englishman, and there is little doubt that his description of a garden was drawn as much from his English as from his French experience.
[167:2] The authority may be in the "Promptorium Parvulorum:" "Mulberry, Morum (selsus)."
[167:3] "Moratum potionis genus, f. ex vino et moris dilutis confectæ."--_Glossarium Adelung._
[168:1] Cunningham's "Handbook of London," p. 346, with many quotations from the old dramatists.
[169:1] Some of these snuff-boxes were inscribed with the punning motto "Memento Mori."
MUSHROOMS.
(1) _Prospero._
You demi-puppets, that By moonshine do the greensour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites, and you whose pastime Is to make midnight Mushrooms.
_Tempest_, act v, sc. 1 (36).
(2) _Fairy._
I do wander everywhere. Swifter than the moon's sphere; And I serve the fairy queen, To dew her orbs upon the green.
_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act ii, sc. 1 (6).
(3) _Quickly._
And nightly, meadow-fairies, look you sing, Like to the Garter's compass, in a ring: The expressure that it bears, green let it be, More fertile-fresh than all the field to see.
_Merry Wives_, act v, sc. 5 (69).
(4) _Ajax._
Toadstool, learn me the proclamation.
_Troilus and Cressida_, act ii, sc. 1 (22).
The three first passages, besides the notice of the Mushroom, contain also the notice of the fairy-rings, which are formed by fungi, though probably Shakespeare knew little of this. No. 4 names the Toadstool, and the four passages together contain the whole of Shakespeare's fungology, and it is little to be wondered at that he has not more to say on these curious plants. In his time "Mushrumes or Toadstooles" (they were all classed together) were looked on with very suspicious eyes, though they were so much eaten that we frequently find in the old herbals certain remedies against "a surfeit of Mushrooms." Why they should have been connected with toads has never been explained, but it was always so--
"The grieslie Todestoole growne there mought I see, And loathed paddocks lording on the same."--SPENSER.
They were associated with other loathsome objects besides toads, for "Poisonous Mushrooms groweth where old rusty iron lieth, or rotten clouts, or neere to serpent's dens or rootes of trees that bring forth venomous fruit.[170:1]. . . Few of them are good to be eaten, and most of them do suffocate and strangle the eater. Therefore, I give my advice unto those that love such strange and new-fangled meates to beware of licking honey among thornes, lest the sweetnesse of one do not counteracte the sharpnesse and pricking of the other." This was Gerard's prudent advice on the eating of "Mushrumes and Toadstooles," but nowadays we know better. The fungologists tell us that those who refuse to eat any fungus but the Mushroom (_Agaricus campestris_) are not only foolish in rejecting most delicate luxuries, but also very wrong in wasting most excellent and nutritious food. Fungologists are great enthusiasts, and it may be well to take their prescription _cum grano salis_; but we may qualify Gerard's advice by the well-known enthusiastic description of Dr. Badham, who certainly knew much more of fungology than Gerard, and did not recommend to others what he had not personally tried himself. After praising the beauty of an English autumn, even in comparison with Italy, he thus concludes his pleasant and useful book, "The Esculent Funguses of England": "I have myself witnessed whole hundredweights of rich, wholesome diet rotting under trees, woods teeming with food, and not one hand to gather it. . . . I have, indeed, grieved when I reflected on the straitened conditions of the lower orders to see pounds innumerable of extempore beefsteaks growing on our Oaks in the shape of _Fistula hepatica_; _Ag. fusipes_, to pickle in clusters under them; _Puffballs_, which some of our friends have not inaptly compared to sweet-bread for the rich delicacy of their unassisted flavour; _Hydna_, as good as oysters, which they very much resemble in taste; _Agaricus deliciosus_, reminding us of tender lamb's kidneys: the beautiful yellow _Chantarelle_, that _kalon kagathon_ of diet, growing by the bushel, and no basket but our own to pick up a few specimens in our way; the sweet nutty-flavoured _Boletus_, in vain calling himself _edulis_ when there was none to believe him; the dainty _Orcella_; the _Ag. hetherophyllus_, which tastes like the crawfish when grilled; the _Ag. ruber_ and _Ag. virescens_, to cook in any way, and equally good in all."
As to the fairy rings (Nos. 1, 2, and 3) a great amount of legendary lore was connected with them. Browne notices them--
"A pleasant mead Where fairies often did their measures tread, Which in the meadows makes such circles green As if with garlands it had crowned been."
_Britannia's Pastorals._
Cowley said--
"Where once such fairies dance, No grass does ever grow;"
and in Shakespeare's time the sheep refused to eat the grass on the fairy rings (1); I believe they now feed on it, but I have not been able to ascertain this with certainty. Others, besides the sheep, avoided them. "When the damsels of old gathered may-dew on the grass, which they made use of to improve their complexions, they left undisturbed such of it as they perceived on the fairy rings, apprehensive that the fairies should in revenge destroy their beauty, nor was it reckoned safe to put the foot within the rings, lest they should be liable to fairies' power."--DOUCE'S _Illustrations_, p. 180.
FOOTNOTES:
[170:1] Herrick calls them "brownest Toadstones."
MUSK ROSES, _see_ ROSE.
MUSTARD.
(1) _Doll._
They say Poins has a good wit.
_Falstaff._
He a good wit? hang him, baboon! his wit's as thick as Tewksbury Mustard; there is no more conceit in him than in a mallet.
_2nd Henry IV_, act ii, sc. 4 (260).
(2) _Titania._
Pease-blossom! Cobweb! Moth! and Mustardseed!
* * * * *
_Bottom._
Your name, I beseech you, sir?
_Mustardseed._
Mustardseed.
_Bottom._
Good Master Mustardseed, I know your patience well; that same cowardly giant-like ox-beef hath devoured many a gentleman of your house: I promise you your kindred hath made my eyes water ere now. I desire your more acquaintance, good Master Mustardseed.
_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act iii, sc. 1 (165, 194).
(3) _Bottom._
Where's the Mounsieur Mustardseed?
_Mustardseed._
Ready.
_Bottom._
Give me your neaf, Mounsieur Mustardseed. Pray you, leave your courtesy, good mounsieur.
_Mustardseed._
What's your will?
_Bottom._
Nothing, good mounsieur, but to help Cavalery Cobweb to scratch.
_Ibid._, act iv, sc. 1 (18).
(4) _Grumio._
What say you to a piece of beef and Mustard?
_Katharine._
A dish that I do love to feed upon.
_Grumio._
Ay, but the Mustard is too hot a little.
_Katharine._
Why then, the beef, and let the Mustard rest.
_Grumio._
Nay, then, I will not; you shall have the Mustard, Or else you get no beef of Grumio.
_Katharine._
Then both, or one, or anything thou wilt.
_Grumio._
Why then, the Mustard without the beef.
_Taming of the Shrew_, act iv, sc. 3 (23).
(5) _Rosalind._
Where learned you that oath, fool?
_Touchstone._
Of a certain knight that swore by his honour they were good pancakes, and swore by his honour the mustard was naught; now I'll stand to it, the pancakes were naught, and the Mustard was good, yet was the knight not forsworn. . . . . You are not forsworn; no more was this knight swearing by his honour, for he never had any; or if he had, he had sworn it away before he ever saw those cakes or that Mustard.
_As You Like It_, act i, sc. 2 (65).
The following passage from Coles, in 1657, will illustrate No. 1: "In Gloucestershire about Teuxbury they grind Mustard and make it into balls which are brought to London and other remote places as being the best that the world affords." These Mustard balls were the form in which Mustard was usually sold, until Mrs. Clements, of Durham, in the last century, invented the method of dressing mustard-flour, like wheat-flour, and made her fortune with Durham Mustard; and it has been supposed that this was the only form in which Mustard was sold in Shakespeare's time, and that it was eaten dry as we eat pepper. But the following from an Anglo-Saxon Leech-book seems to speak of it as used exactly in the modern fashion. After mentioning several ingredients in a recipe for want of appetite for meat, it says: "Triturate all together--eke out with vinegar as may seem fit to thee, so that it may be wrought into the form in which Mustard is tempered for flavouring, put it then into a glass vessel, and then with bread, or with whatever meat thou choose, lap it with a spoon, that will help" ("Leech Book," ii. 5, Cockayne's translation). And Parkinson's account is to the same effect: "The seeds hereof, ground between two stones, fitted for the purpose, and called a quern, with some good vinegar added to it to make it liquid and running, is that kind of Mustard that is usually made of all sorts to serve as sauce both for fish and flesh." And to the same effect the "Boke of Nurture"--
"Yet make moche of Mustard, and put it not away, For with every dische he is dewest who so lust to assay."
(L. 853).
MYRTLE.
(1) _Euphronius._
I was of late as petty to his ends As is the morn-dew on the Myrtle-leaf To his grand sea.
_Antony and Cleopatra_, act iii, sc. 12 (8).
(2) _Isabella._
Merciful Heaven, Thou rather with thy sharp and sulphurous bolt Split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled Oak Than the soft Myrtle.
_Measure for Measure_, act ii, sc. 2 (114).
(3)
Venus, with young Adonis sitting by her, Under a Myrtle shade began to woo him.
_Passionate Pilgrim_ (143).
(4)
Then sad she hasteth to a Myrtle grove.
_Venus and Adonis_ (865).
Myrtle is of course the English form of _myrtus_; but the older English name was Gale, a name which is still applied to the bog-myrtle.[174:1] Though a most abundant shrub in the South of Europe, and probably introduced into England before the time of Shakespeare, the myrtle was only grown in a very few places, and was kept alive with difficulty, so that it was looked upon not only as a delicate and an elegant rarity, but as the established emblem of refined beauty. In the Bible it is always associated with visions and representations of peacefulness and plenty, and Milton most fitly uses it in the description of our first parents' "blissful bower"--
"The roofe Of thickest covert was inwoven shade, Laurel and Mirtle, and what higher grew Of firm and fragrant leaf."
_Paradise Lost_, iv.
In heathen times the Myrtle was dedicated to Venus, and from this arose the custom in mediæval times of using the flowers for bridal garlands, which thus took the place of Orange blossoms in our time.
"The lover with the Myrtle sprays Adorns his crisped cresses."
DRAYTON, _Muse's Elysium_.
"And I will make thee beds of Roses, And a thousand fragrant posies, A cap of flowers, and a kirtle Embroidered o'er with leaves of Myrtle."
_Roxburghe Ballads._
As a garden shrub every one will grow the Myrtle that can induce it to grow. There is no difficulty in its cultivation, provided only that the climate suits it, and the climate that suits it best is the neighbourhood of the sea. Virgil describes the Myrtles as "amantes littora myrtos," and those who have seen the Myrtle as it grows on the Devonshire and Cornish coasts will recognise the truth of his description.
FOOTNOTES:
[174:1] "Gayle; mirtus."--_Catholicon Anglicum_, p. 147, with note.
NARCISSUS.
_Emilia._
This garden has a world of pleasures in't, What flowre is this?
_Servant._
'Tis called Narcissus, madam.
_Emilia._
That was a faire boy certaine, but a foole, To love himselfe; were there not maides enough?
_Two Noble Kinsmen_, act ii, sc. 2 (130).
_See_ DAFFODILS, p. 73.
NETTLES.
(1) _Cordelia._
Crown'd with rank Fumiter and Furrow-weeds, With Burdocks, Hemlock, Nettles, Cuckoo-flowers.
_King Lear_, act iv, sc. 4. (3).
(2) _Queen._
Crow-flowers, Nettles, Daisies, and Long Purples.
_Hamlet_, act iv, sc. 7 (170). (_See_ CROW-FLOWERS.)
(3) _Antonio._
He'd sow't with Nettle-seed.
_Tempest_, act ii, sc. 1 (145).
(4) _Saturninus._
Look for thy reward Among the Nettles at the Elder Tree.
_Titus Andronicus_, act ii, sc. 3 (271).
(5) _Sir Toby._
How now, my Nettle of India?
_Twelfth Night_, act ii, sc. 5 (17).[176:1]
(6) _King Richard._
Yield stinging Nettles to my enemies.
_Richard II_, act iii, sc. 2 (18).
(7) _Hotspur._
I tell you, my lord fool, out of this Nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety.
_1st Henry IV_, act ii, sc. 3 (8).
(8) _Ely._
The Strawberry grows underneath the Nettle.
_Henry V_, act i, sc. 1 (60).
(9) _Cressida._
I'll spring up in his tears, an 'twere a Nettle against May.
_Troilus and Cressida_, act i, sc. 2 (190).
(10) _Menenius._
We call a Nettle but a Nettle, and The fault of fools but folly.
_Coriolanus_, act ii, sc. 1 (207).
(11) _Laertes._
Goads, Thorns, Nettles, tails of wasps.
_Winter's Tale_, act i, sc. 2 (329).
(12) _Iago._
If we will plant Nettles or sow Lettuce.
_Othello_, act i, sc. 3 (324). (_See_ HYSSOP.)
(13) _Palamon._
Who do bear thy yoke As 'twer a wreath of roses, yet is heavier Than lead itselfe, stings more than Nettles.
_Two Noble Kinsmen_, act v, sc. 1 (101).
The Nettle needs no introduction; we are all too well acquainted with it, yet it is not altogether a weed to be despised. We have two native species (Urtica urens and U. dioica) with sufficiently strong qualities, but we have a third (U. pilulifera) very curious in its manner of bearing its female flowers in clusters of compact little balls, which is far more virulent than either of our native species, and is said by Camden to have been introduced by the Romans to chafe their bodies when frozen by the cold of Britain. The story is probably quite apocryphal, but the plant is an alien, and only grows in a few places.
Both the Latin and English names of the plant record its qualities. Urtica is from _uro_, to burn; and Nettle is (etymologically) the same word as needle, and the plant is so named, not for its stinging qualities, but because at one time the Nettle supplied the chief instrument of sewing; not the instrument which holds the thread, and to which we now confine the word needle, but the thread itself, and very good thread it made. The poet Campbell says in one of his letters--"I have slept in Nettle sheets, and dined off a Nettle table-cloth, and I have heard my mother say that she thought Nettle cloth more durable than any other linen." It has also been used for making paper, and for both these purposes, as well as for rope-making, the Rhea fibre of the Himalaya, which is simply a gigantic Nettle (_Urtica_ or _Böhmeria nivea_), is very largely cultivated. Nor is the Nettle to be despised as an article of food.[177:1] In many parts of England the young shoots are boiled and much relished. In 1596 Coghan wrote of it: "I will speak somewhat of the Nettle that Gardeners may understand what wrong they do in plucking it for the weede, seeing it is so profitable to many purposes. . . . Cunning cookes at the spring of the yeare, when Nettles first bud forth, can make good pottage with them, especially with red Nettles" ("Haven of Health," p. 86). In February, 1661, Pepys made the entry in his diary--"We did eat some Nettle porridge, which was made on purpose to-day for some of their coming, and was very good." Andrew Fairservice said of himself--"Nae doubt I should understand my trade of horticulture, seeing I was bred in the Parish of Dreepdaily, where they raise lang Kale under glass, and force the early Nettles for their spring Kale" ("Rob Roy," c. 7). Gipsies are said to cook it as an excellent vegetable, and M. Soyer tried hard, but almost in vain, to recommend it as a most dainty dish. Having so many uses, we are not surprised to find that it has at times been regularly cultivated as a garden crop, so that I have somewhere seen an account of tithe of Nettles being taken; and in the old churchwardens' account of St. Michael's, Bath, is the entry in the year 1400, "Pro Urticis venditis ad Lawrencium Bebbe, 2d."
Nettles are much used in the neighbourhood of London to pack plums and other fruit with bloom on them, so that in some market gardens they are not only not destroyed, but encouraged, and even cultivated. And this is an old practice; Lawson's advice in 1683 was--"For the gathering of all other stone-fruit, as Nectarines, Apricots, Peaches, Pear-plums, Damsons, Bullas, and such like, . . . in the bottom of your large sives where you put them, you shall lay Nettles, and likewise in the top, for that will ripen those that are most unready" ("New Orchard," p. 96).
The "Nettle of India" (No. 5) has puzzled the commentators. It is probably not the true reading; if the true reading, it may only mean a Nettle of extra-stinging quality; but it may also mean an Eastern plant that was used to produce cowage, or cow-itch. "The hairs of the pods of Mucuna pruriens, &c., constitute the substance called cow-itch, a mechanical Anthelmintic."--LINDLEY. This plant is said to have been called the Nettle of India, but I do not find it so named in Shakespeare's time.
In other points the Nettle is a most interesting plant. Microscopists find in it most beautiful objects for the microscope; entomologists value it, for it is such a favourite of butterflies and other insects, that in Britain alone upwards of thirty insects feed solely on the Nettle plant, and it is one of those curious plants which mark the progress of civilization by following man wherever he goes.[178:1]
But as a garden plant the only advice to be given is to keep it out of the garden by every means. In good cultivated ground it becomes a sad weed if once allowed a settlement. The Himalayan Böhmerias, however, are handsome, but only for their foliage; and though we cannot, perhaps, admit our roadside Dead Nettles, which however are much handsomer than many foreign flowers which we carefully tend and prize, yet the Austrian Dead Nettle (_Lamium orvala_, "Bot. Mag.," v. 172) may be well admitted as a handsome garden plant.
FOOTNOTES:
[176:1] This a modern reading; the correct reading is "metal."
[177:1]
"Si forte in medio positorum abstemius herbis Vivis et Urtica."--HORACE, _Ep._ i, 10, 8.
"Mihi festa luce coquatar Urtica."--PERSIUS vi, 68.
[178:1] "L'ortie s'établit partout dans les contrées temperées à la suite de l'homme pour disparaitre bientôt si le lieu on elle s'est ainsi implanteè cesse d'etre habité."--M. LAVAILLEE, _Sur les Arbres_, &c., 1878.
NUT, _see_ HAZEL.
NUTMEG.
(1) _Dauphin._
He's [the horse] of the colour of the Nutmeg.
_Henry V_, act iii, sc. 7 (20).
(2) _Clown._
I must have . . . Nutmegs Seven.
_Winter's Tale_, act iv, sc. 3 (50).
(3) _Armado._
The omnipotent Mars, of lances the almighty, Gave Hector a gift--
_Dumain._
A gilt Nutmeg.
_Love's Labour's Lost_, act v, sc. 2 (650).
Gerard gives a very fair description of the Nutmeg tree under the names of Nux moschata or Myristica; but it is certain that he had not any personal knowledge of the tree, which was not introduced into England or Europe for nearly 200 years after. Shakespeare could only have known the imported Nut and the Mace which covers the Nut inside the shell, and they were imported long before his time. Chaucer speaks of it as--
"Notemygge to put in ale Whether it be moist or stale, Or for to lay in cofre."--_Sir Thopas._
And in another poem we have--
"And trees ther were gret foisoun, That beren notes in her sesoun. Such as men Notemygges calle That swote of savour ben withalle."
_Romaunt of the Rose._
The Nutmeg tree (_Myrista officinalis_) "is a native of the Molucca or Spice Islands, principally confined to that group denominated the Islands of Banda, lying in lat. 4° 30´ south; and there it bears both blossom and fruit at all seasons of the year" ("Bot. Mag.," 2756, with a full history of the spice, and plates of the tree and fruit).
OAK.
(1) _Prospero._
If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an Oak, And peg thee in his knotty entrails,
_Tempest_, act i, sc. 2 (294).
(2) _Prospero._
To the dread rattling thunder Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout Oak With his own bolt.
_Ibid._, act v, sc. 1 (44).
(3) _Quince._
At the Duke's Oak we meet.
_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act i, sc. 2 (113).
(4) _Benedick._
An Oak with but one green leaf on it would have answered her.
_Much Ado About Nothing_, act ii, sc. 1 (247).
(5) _Isabella._
Thou split'st the unwedgeable and gnarled Oak.
_Measure for Measure_, act ii, sc. 2 (114). (_See_ MYRTLE.)
(6) _1st Lord._
He lay along Under an Oak, whose antique root peeps out Upon the brook that brawls along this wood.
_As You Like It_, act ii, sc. 1 (30).
(7) _Oliver._
Under an Oak, whose boughs were Mossed with age, And high top bald with dry antiquity.
_Ibid._, act iv, sc. 3 (156).
(8) _Paulina._
As ever Oak or stone was sound.
_Winter's Tale_, act ii, sc. 3 (89).
(9) _Messenger._
And many strokes, though with a little axe, Hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd Oak.
_3rd Henry VI_, act ii, sc. 1 (54).
(10) _Mrs. Page._
There is an old tale goes that Herne the Hunter, Sometime a keeper here in Windsor Forest, Doth all the winter time at still midnight Walk round about an Oak, with great ragg'd horns.
* * * * *
_Page._
Why yet there want not many that do fear In deep of night to walk by this Herne's Oak.
* * * * *
_Mrs. Ford._
That Falstaff at that Oak shall meet with us.
_Merry Wives of Windsor_, act iv, sc. 4 (28).
_Fenton._
To night at Herne's Oak.
_Merry Wives of Windsor_, act iv, sc. 6 (19).
_Falstaff._
Be you in the park about midnight at Herne's Oak, and you shall see wonders.
_Ibid._, act v, sc. 1 (11).
_Mrs. Page._
They are all couched in a pit hard by Herne's Oak.
* * * * *
_Mrs. Ford._
The hour draws on. To the Oak, to the Oak!
_Ibid._, act v, sc. 3 (14).
_Quickly._
Till 'tis one o'clock Our dance of custom round about the Oak Of Herne the Hunter, let us not forget.
_Ibid._, act v, sc. 5 (78).
(11) _Timon._
That numberless upon me stuck as leaves Do on the Oak, have with one winter's brush Fell from their boughs, and left me open, bare For every storm that blows.
_Timon of Athens_, act iv, sc. 3 (263).
(12) _Timon._
The Oaks bear mast, the Briers scarlet hips.
_Ibid._ (422).
(13) _Montano._
What ribs of Oak, when mountains melt on them, Can hold the mortise?
_Othello_, act ii, sc. 1 (7).
(14) _Iago._
She that so young could give out such a seeming To seel her father's eyes up close as Oak.
_Ibid._, act iii, sc. 3 (209).
(15) _Marcius._
He that depends Upon your favours swims with fins of lead And hews down Oaks with rushes.
_Coriolanus_, act i, sc. 1 (183).
(16) _Arviragus._
To thee the Reed is as the Oak.
_Cymbeline_, act iv, sc. 2 (267).
(17) _Lear._
Oak-cleaving thunderbolts.
_King Lear_, act iii, sc. 2 (5).
(18) _Nathaniel._
Though to myself forsworn, to thee I'll faithful prove; Those thoughts to me were Oaks, to thee like Osiers bow'd.
_Love's Labour's Lost_, act iv, sc. 2 (111).
[The same lines in the "Passionate Pilgrim."]
(19) _Nestor._
When the splitting wind Makes flexible the knees of knotted Oaks.
_Troilus and Cressida_, act i, sc. 3 (49).
(20) _Volumnia._
To a cruel war I sent him, from whence he returned, his brows bound with Oak.
_Coriolanus_, act i, sc. 3 (14).
_Volumnia._
He comes the third time home with the Oaken garland.
_Ibid._, act ii, sc. 1 (137).
_Cominius._
He proved best man i' the field, and for his meed Was brow-bound with the Oak.
_Ibid._, act ii, sc. 2 (101).
_2nd Senator._
The worthy fellow is our general; he's the rock, the Oak, not to be wind-shaken.
_Ibid._, act v, sc. 2 (116).
_Volumnia._
To charge thy sulphur with a bolt That should but rive an Oak.
_Ibid._, act v, sc. 3 (152).
(21) _Casca._
I have seen tempests when the scolding winds Have rived the knotty Oaks.
_Julius Cæsar_, act i, sc. 3 (5).
(22) _Celia._
I found him under a tree like a dropped Acorn.
_Rosalind._
It may well be called Jove's tree, when it drops forth such fruit.
_As You Like It_, act iii, sc. 2 (248).
(23) _Prospero._
Thy food shall be The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots, and husks Wherein the Acorn cradled.
_Tempest_, act i, sc. 2 (462).
(24) _Puck._
All their elves for fear Creep into Acorn-cups, and hide them there.
_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act ii, sc. 1 (30).
(25) _Lysander._
Get you gone, you dwarf--you beed--you Acorn!
_Ibid._, act iii, sc. 2 (328).
(26) _Posthumus._
Like a full-Acorned boar--a German one.
_Cymbeline_, act ii, sc. 5 (16).
(27) _Messenger._
About his head he weares the winner's Oke.
_Two Noble Kinsmen_, act iv, sc. 2 (154).
(28)
Time's glory is . . . . To dry the old Oak's sap.
_Lucrece_ (950).
Here are several very pleasant pictures, and there is so much of historical and legendary lore gathered round the Oaks of England that it is very tempting to dwell upon them. There are the historical Oaks connected with the names of William Rufus, Queen Elizabeth, and Charles II.; there are the wonderful Oaks of Wistman's Wood (certainly the most weird and most curious wood in England, if not in Europe); there are the many passages in which our old English writers have loved to descant on the Oaks of England as the very emblems of unbroken strength and unflinching constancy; there is all the national interest which has linked the glories of the British navy with the steady and enduring growth of her Oaks; there is the wonderful picturesqueness of the great Oak plantations of the New Forest, the Forest of Dean, and other royal forests; and the equally, if not greater, picturesqueness of the English Oak as the chief ornament of our great English parks; there is the scientific interest which suggested the growth of the Oak for the plan of our lighthouses, and many other interesting points. It is very tempting to stop on each and all of these, but the space is too limited, and they can all be found ably treated of and at full length in any of the books that have been written on the English forest trees.
OATS.
(1) _Iris._
Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas Of Wheat, Rye, Barley, Vetches, Oats, and Pease.
_Tempest_, act iv, sc. 1 (60).
(2) _Spring Song._
When shepherds pipe on Oaten straws.
_Love's Labour's Lost_, act v, sc. 2 (913).
(3) _Bottom._
Truly a peck of provender; I could munch your good dry Oats.
_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act iv, sc. 1 (35).
(4) _Grumio._
Ay, sir, they be ready; the Oats have eaten the horses.
_Taming of the Shrew_, act iii, sc. 2 (207).
(5) _First Carrier._
Poor fellow, never joyed since the price of Oats rose--it was the death of him.
_1st Henry IV_, act ii, sc. 1 (13).
(6) _Captain._
I cannot draw a cart, nor eat dried Oats, If it be man's work, I'll do it.
_King Lear_, act v, sc. 3 (38).
Shakespeare's Oats need no comment, except to note that the older English name for Oats was Haver (_see_ "Promptorium Parvulorum," p. 372; and "Catholicon Anglicum," p. 178, with the notes). The word was in use in Shakespeare's time, and still survives in the northern parts of England.
OLIVE.
(1) _Clarence._
To whom the heavens in thy nativity Adjudged an Olive branch.
_3rd Henry VI_, act iv, sc. 6 (33). (_See_ LAUREL.)
(2) _Alcibiades._
Bring me into your city, And I will use the Olive with my sword.
_Timon of Athens_, act v, sc. 4 (81).
(3) _Cæsar._
Prove this a prosperous day, the three-nook'd world Shall bear the Olive freely.
_Antony and Cleopatra_, act iv, sc. 6 (5).
(4) _Rosalind._
If you will know my house 'Tis at the tuft of Olives here hard by.
_As You Like It_, act iii, sc. 5 (74).
(5) _Oliver._
Where, in the purlieus of this forest stands A sheepcote fenced about with Olive trees?
_Ibid._, act iv, sc. 3 (77).
(6) _Viola._
I bring no overture of war, no taxation of homage; I hold the Olive in my hand; my words are as full of peace as matter.
_Twelfth Night_, act i, sc. 5 (224).
(7) _Westmoreland._
There is not now a rebel's sword unsheath'd, But peace puts forth her Olive everywhere.
_2nd Henry IV_, act iv, sc. 4 (86).
(8)
And peace proclaims Olives of endless age.
_Sonnet_ cvii.
There is no certain record by which we can determine when the Olive tree was first introduced into England. Miller gives 1648 as the earliest date he could discover, at which time it was grown in the Oxford Botanic Garden. But I have no doubt it was cultivated long before that. Parkinson knew it as an English tree in 1640, for he says: "It flowereth in the beginning of summer in the warmer countries, but very late _with us_; the fruite ripeneth in autumne in Spain, &c., but seldome _with us_" ("Herball," 1640). Gerard had an Oleaster in his garden in 1596, which Mr. Jackson considers to have been the Olea Europea, and with good reason, as in his account of the Olive in the "Herbal" he gives Oleaster as one of the synonyms of Olea sylvestris, the wild Olive tree. But I think its introduction is of a still earlier date. In the Anglo-Saxon "Leech Book," of the tenth century, published under the direction of the Master of the Rolls, I find this prescription: "Pound Lovage and Elder rind and Oleaster, that is, wild Olive tree, mix them with some clear ale and give to drink" (