Chapter 13 of 25 · 5003 words · ~25 min read

book xi

. (Lord Derby's translation).

But in the time of Shakespeare they were not held in such esteem. Coghan, writing in 1596, says of them: "Being eaten raw, they engender all humourous and corruptible putrifactions in the stomacke, and cause fearful dreames, and if they be much used they snarre the memory and trouble the understanding" ("Haven of Health," p. 58).

The name comes directly from the French _oignon_, a bulb, being the bulb _par excellence_, the French name coming from the Latin _unio_, which was the name given to some species of Onion, probably from the bulb growing singly. It may be noted, however, that the older English name for the Onion was Ine, of which we may perhaps still have the remembrance in the common "Inions." The use of the Onion to promote artificial crying is of very old date, Columella speaking of "lacrymosa cæpe," and Pliny of "cæpis odor lacrymosus." There are frequent references to the same use in the old English writers.

The Onion has been for so many centuries in cultivation that its native home has been much disputed, but it has now "according to Dr. Regel ('Gartenflora,' 1877, p. 264) been definitely determined to be the mountains of Central Asia. It has also been found in a wild state in the Himalaya Mountains."--_Gardener's Chronicle._

ORANGE.

(1) _Beatrice._

The count is neither sad nor sick, nor merry nor well; but civil count, civil as an Orange, and something of that jealous complexion.

_Much Ado About Nothing_, act ii, sc. 1 (303).

(2) _Claudio._

Give not this rotten Orange to your friend.

_Much Ado About Nothing_, act iv, sc. 1 (33).

(3) _Bottom._

I will discharge it either in your straw-coloured beard, your Orange-tawny beard.

_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act i, sc. 2 (95).

(4) _Bottom._

The ousel cock so black of hue With Orange-tawny bill.

_Ibid._, act iii, sc. 1 (128).

(5) _Menenius._

You wear out a good wholesome forenoon in hearing a cause between an Orange-wife and a fosset-seller.

_Coriolanus_, act ii, sc. 1 (77).

I should think it very probable that Shakespeare may have seen both Orange and Lemon trees growing in England. The Orange is a native of the East Indies, and no certain date can be given for its introduction into Europe. Under the name of the Median Apple a tree is described first by Theophrastus, and then by Virgil and Palladius, which is supposed by some to be the Orange; but as they all describe it as unfit for food, it is with good reason supposed that the tree referred to is either the Lemon or Citron. Virgil describes it very exactly--

"Ipsa ingens arbor, faciemque simillima lauro Et si non alium late jactaret odorem Laurus erat; folia hand ullis labentia ventis Flos ad prima tenax."--_Georgic_ ii, 131.

Dr. Daubeny, who very carefully studied the plants of classical writers, decides that the fruit here named is the Lemon, and says that it "is noticed only as a foreign fruit, nor does it appear that it was cultivated at that time in Italy, for Pliny says it will only grow in Media and Assyria, though Palladius in the fourth century seems to have been familiar with it, and it was known in Greece at the time of Theophrastus." But if Oranges were grown in Italy or Greece in the time of Pliny and Palladius, they did not continue in cultivation. Europe owes the introduction or reintroduction to the Portuguese, who brought them from the East, and they were grown in Spain in the eleventh century. The first notice of them in Italy was in the year 1200, when a tree was planted by St. Dominic at Rome. The first grown in France is said to have been the old tree which lived at the Orangery at Versailles till November, 1876, and was called the Grand Bourbon. "In 1421 the Queen of Navarre gave the gardener the seed from Pampeluna; hence sprang the plant, which was subsequently transported to Chantilly. In 1532 the Orange tree was sent to Fontainebleau, whence, in 1684, Louis XIV. transferred it to Versailles, where it remained the largest, finest, and most fertile member of the Orangery, its head being 17yds. round." It is not likely that a tree of such beauty should be growing so near England without the English gardeners doing their utmost to establish it here. But the first certain record is generally said to be in 1595, when (on the authority of Bishop Gibson) Orange trees were planted at Beddington, in Surrey, the plants being raised from seeds brought into England by Sir Walter Raleigh. The date, however, may be placed earlier, for in Lyte's "Herbal" (1578) it is stated that "In this countrie the Herboristes do set and plant the Orange trees in there gardens, but they beare no fruite without they be wel kept and defended from cold, and yet for all that they beare very seldome." There are no Oranges in Gerard's catalogue of 1596, and though he describes the trees in his "Herbal," he does not say that he then grew them or had seen them growing. But by 1599 he had obtained them, for they occur in his catalogue of that date under the name of "Malus orantia, the Arange or Orange tree," so that it is certainly very probable that Shakespeare may have seen the Orange as a living tree.

As to the beauty of the Orange tree, there is but one opinion. Andrew Marvel described it as--

"The Orange bright, Like golden lamps in a green night."

_Bermudas._

George Herbert drew a lesson from its power of constant fruiting--

"Oh that I were an Orenge tree, That busie plant; Then should I ever laden be, And never want Some fruit for him that dressed me."

_Employment._

And its handsome evergreen foliage, its deliciously scented flowers, and its golden fruit--

"A fruit of pure Hesperian gold That smelled ambrosially"--

TENNYSON.

at once demand the admiration of all. It only fails in one point to make it a plant for every garden: it is not fully hardy in England. It is very surprising to read of those first trees at Beddington, that "they were planted in the open ground, under a movable covert during the winter months; that they always bore fruit in great plenty and perfection; that they grew on the south side of a wall, not nailed against it, but at full liberty to spread; that they were 14ft. high, the girth of the stem 29in., and the spreading of the branches one way 9ft., and 12ft. another; and that they so lived till they were entirely killed by the great frost in 1739-40."--MILLER.[191:1] These trees must have been of a hardy variety, for certainly Orange trees, even with such protection, do not now so grow in England, except in a few favoured places on the south coast. There is one species which is fairly hardy, the Citrus trifoliata, from Japan,[191:2] forming a pretty bush with sweet flowers, and small but useless fruit (seldom, I believe, produced out-of-doors); it is often used as a stock on which to graft the better kinds, but perhaps it might be useful for crossing, so as to give its hardiness to a variety with better flower and fruit.

Commercially the Orange holds a high place, more than 20,000 good fruit having been picked from one tree, and England alone importing about 2,000,000 bushels annually. These are almost entirely used as a dessert fruit and for marmalade, but it is curious that they do not seem to have been so used when first imported. Parkinson makes no mention of their being eaten raw, but says they "are used as sauce for many sorts of meats, in respect of the sweet sourness giving a relish and delight whereinsoever they are used;" and he mentions another curious use, no longer in fashion, I believe, but which might be worth a trial: "The seeds being cast into the grounde in the spring time will quickly grow up, and when they are a finger's length high, being pluckt up and put among Sallats, will give them a marvellous fine aromatick or spicy tast, very acceptable."[192:1]

FOOTNOTES:

[191:1] In an "Account of Gardens Round London in 1691," published in the "Archæologia," vol. xii., these Orange trees are described as if always under glass.

[191:2] "Bot. Mag.," 6513.

[192:1] For an account of the early importation of the fruit see "Promptorium Parvulorum," p. 371, note.

OSIER, _see_ WILLOW.

OXLIPS.

(1) _Perdita._

Bold Oxlips, and The Crown Imperial.

_Winter's Tale_, act iv, sc. 4 (125).

(2) _Oberon._

I know a bank where the wild Thyme blows, Where Oxlips and the nodding Violet grows.

_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act ii, sc. 1 (249).

(3)

Oxlips in their cradles growing.

_Two Noble Kinsmen_, Intro. song.

The true Oxlip (_Primula eliator_) is so like both the Primrose and Cowslip that it has been by many supposed to be a hybrid between the two. Sir Joseph Hooker, however, considers it a true species. It is a handsome plant, but it is probably not the "bold Oxlip" of Shakespeare, or the plant which is such a favourite in cottage gardens. The true Oxlip (P. elatior of Jacquin) is an eastern counties' plant; while the common forms of the Oxlip are hybrids between the Cowslip and Primrose. (_See_ COWSLIP and PRIMROSE.)

PALM TREE.

(1) _Rosalind._

Look here what I found on a Palm tree.

_As You Like It_, act iii, sc. 2 (185).

(2) _Hamlet._

As love between them like the Palm might flourish.

_Hamlet_, act v, sc. 2 (40).

(3) _Volumnia._

And bear the Palm for having bravely shed Thy wife and children's blood.

_Coriolanus_, act v, sc. 3 (117).

(4) _Cassius._

And bear the Palm alone.

_Julius Cæsar_, act i, sc. 2 (131).

(5) _Painter._

You shall see him a Palm in Athens again, and flourish with the highest.

_Timon of Athens_, act v, sc. 1 (12).

(6)

_The Vision._--Enter, solemnly tripping one after another, six personages, clad in white robes, wearing on their heads garlands of Bays, and golden vizards on their faces, branches of Bays or Palm in their hands.

_Henry VIII_, act iv, sc. 2.

To these passages may be added the following, in which the Palm tree is certainly alluded to though it is not mentioned by name--

_Sebastian._

That in Arabia There is one tree, the Phoenix' throne; one Phoenix At this hour reigning there.

_Tempest_, act iii, sc. 3 (22).[193:1]

And from the poem by Shakespeare, published in Chester's "Love's Martyr," 1601.

"Let the bird of loudest lay On the sole Arabian tree Herald sad and Trumpet be, To whose sound chaste wings obey."

Two very distinct trees are named in these passages. In the last five the reference is to the true Palm of Biblical and classical fame, as the emblem of victory, and the typical representation of life and beauty in the midst of barren waste and deserts. And we are not surprised at the veneration in which the tree was held, when we consider either the wonderful grace of the tree, or its many uses in its native countries, so many, that Pliny says that the Orientals reckoned 360 uses to which the Palm tree could be applied. Turner, in 1548, said: "I never saw any perfit Date tree yet, but onely a little one that never came to perfection;"[194:1] and whether Shakespeare ever saw a living Palm tree is doubtful, but he may have done so. (_See_ DATE.) Now there are a great number grown in the large houses of botanic and other gardens, the Palm-house at Kew showing more and better specimens than can be seen in any other collection in Europe: even the open garden can now boast of a few species that will endure our winters without protection. Chamærops humilis and Fortunei seem to be perfectly hardy, and good specimens may be seen in several gardens; Corypha australis is also said to be quite hardy, and there is little doubt but that the Date Palm (_Phoenix dactylifera_), which has long been naturalized in the South of Europe, would live in Devonshire and Cornwall, and that of the thousand species of Palms growing in so many different parts of the world, some will yet be found that may grow well in the open air in England.

But the Palm tree in No. 1 is a totally different tree, and much as Shakespeare has been laughed at for placing a Palm tree in the Forest of Arden, the laugh is easily turned against those who raise such an objection. The Palm tree of the Forest of Arden is the

"Satin-shining Palm On Sallows in the windy gleams of March"--

_Idylls of the King_--Vivien.

that is, the Early Willow (_Salix caprea_) and I believe it is so called all over England, as it is in Northern Germany, and probably in other northern countries. There is little doubt that the name arose from the custom of using the Willow branches with the pretty golden catkins on Palm Sunday as a substitute for Palm branches.

"In Rome upon Palm Sunday they bear true Palms, The Cardinals bow reverently and sing old Psalms; Elsewhere those Psalms are sung 'mid Olive branches, The Holly branch supplies the place among the avalanches; More northern climes must be content with the sad Willow."

GOETHE (quoted by Seeman).

But besides Willow branches, Yew branches are sometimes used for the same purpose, and so we find Yews called Palms. Evelyn says they were so called in Kent; they are still so called in Ireland, and in the churchwarden's accounts of Woodbury, Devonshire, is the following entry: "Memorandum, 1775. That a Yew or Palm tree was planted in the churchyard, ye south side of the church, in the same place where one was blown down by the wind a few days ago, this 25th of November."[195:1]

How Willow or Yew branches could ever have been substituted for such a very different branch as a Palm it is hard to say, but in lack of a better explanation, I think it not unlikely that it might have arisen from the direction for the Feast of Tabernacles in Leviticus xxiii. 40: "Ye shall take you on the first day the boughs of goodly trees, the branches of Palm trees, and the boughs of thick trees, and Willows of the brook." But from whatever cause the name and the custom was derived, the Willow was so named in very early times, and in Shakespeare's time the name was very common. Here is one instance among many--

"Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day, The Palms and May make country houses gay, And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay-- Cuckoo, jug-jug, pee-we, to-witta-woo."

T. NASH. 1567-1601.

FOOTNOTES:

[193:1] I do not include among "Palms" the passage in _Hamlet_, act i, sc. 1: "In the most high and palmy state of Rome," because I bow to Archdeacon Nares' judgment that "palmy" here means "grown to full height, in allusion to the palms of the stag's horns, when they have attained to their utmost growth." He does not, however, decide this with certainty, and the question may be still an open one.

[194:1] "Names of Herbes," s.v. Palma.

[195:1] In connection with this, Turner's account of the Palm in 1538 is worth quoting: "Palm[=a] arborem in anglia nunq' me vidisse memini. Indie tamen ramis palmar[=u] (ut illi loq[=u]ntur) soepius sacerdot[=e] dicent[=e] andivi. Bendic eti[=a] et hos palmar[=u] ramos, qu[=u] proeter salignas frondes nihil omnino vider[=e] ego, quid alii viderint nescio. Si nobis palmarum frondes non suppeterent; proestaret me judice mutare lectionem et dicere. Benedic hos salic[=u] ramos q' falso et mendaciter salicum frondes palmarum frondes vocare."--LIBELLUS, _De re Herbaria_, s.v. Palma.

PANSIES.

(1) _Ophelia._

And there is Pansies--that's for thoughts.

_Hamlet_, act iv, sc. 5 (176).

(2) _Lucentio._

But see, while idly I stood looking on, I found the effect of Love-in-idleness.

_Taming of the Shrew_, act i, sc. 1 (155).

(3) _Oberon._

Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell: It fell upon a little western flower, Before milk-white, now purple with love's wound, And maidens call it Love-in-idleness. Fetch me that flower; the herb I show'd thee once; The juice of it on sleeping eye-lids laid Will make or man or woman madly dote Upon the next live creature that it sees.

_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act ii, sc. 1 (165).

(4) _Oberon._

Dian's Bud o'er Cupid's flower Hath such free and blessed power.

_Ibid._, act iv, sc. 1 (78).

The Pansy is one of the oldest favourites in English gardens, and the affection for it is shown in the many names that were given to it. The Anglo-Saxon name was Banwort or Bonewort, though why such a name was given to it we cannot now say. Nor can we satisfactorily explain its common names of Pansy or Pawnce (from the French, _pensées_--"that is, for thoughts," says Ophelia), or Heart's-ease,[196:1] which name was originally given to the Wallflower. The name Cupid's flower seems to be peculiar to Shakespeare, but the other name, Love-in-idle, or idleness, is said to be still in use in Warwickshire, and signifies love in vain, or to no purpose, as in Chaucer: "The prophet David saith; If God ne kepe not the citee, in ydel waketh he that keptit it."[196:2] And in Tyndale's translation of the New Testament, "I have prechid to you, if ye holden, if ye hav not bileved ideli" (1 Cor. xv. 2). "Beynge plenteuous in werk of the Lord evermore, witynge that youre traveil is not idel in the Lord" (1 Cor. xv. 58).

But beside these more common names, Dr. Prior mentions the following: "Herb Trinity, Three faces under a hood, Fancy, Flamy,[197:1] Kiss me, Cull me or Cuddle me to you, Tickle my fancy, Kiss me ere I rise, Jump up and kiss me, Kiss me at the garden gate, Pink of my John, and several more of the same amatory character."

Spenser gives the flower a place in his "Royal aray" for Elisa--

"Strowe me the grounde with Daffadowndillies, And Cowslips, and Kingcups, and loved Lillies, The pretie Pawnce, And the Chevisaunce Shall match with the fayre Flower Delice."

And in another place he speaks of the "Paunces trim"--_F. Q._, iii. 1. Milton places it in Eve's couch--

"Flowers were the couch, Pansies, and Violets, and Asphodel, And Hyacinth, earth's freshest, softest lap."

He names it also as part of the wreath of Sabrina--

"Pansies, Pinks, and gaudy Daffadils;"

and as one of the flowers to strew the hearse of Lycidas--

"The White Pink and the Pansie streaked with jet, The glowing Violet."

FOOTNOTES:

[196:1] "The Pansie Heart's ease Maiden's call."--DRAYTON _Ed._, ix.

[196:2] And again--

"The other heste of hym is this, Take not in ydel my name or amys."

_Pardeners Tale._

"Eterne God, that through thy purveance Ledest this world by certein governance, In idel, as men sein, ye nothinge make."

_The Frankelynes Tale._

[197:1] "Flamy, because its colours are seen in the flame of wood."--_Flora Domestica_, 166.

PARSLEY.

_Biondello._

I knew a wench married in an afternoon as she went to the garden for Parsley to stuff a rabbit.

_Taming of the Shrew_, act iv, sc 4 (99).

Parsley is the abbreviated form of Apium petroselinum, and is a common name to many umbelliferous plants, but the garden Parsley is the one meant here. This well-known little plant has the curious botanic history that no one can tell what is its native country. In 1548 Turner said, "Perseley groweth nowhere that I knowe, but only in gardens."[198:1] It is found in many countries, but is always considered an escape from cultivation. Probably the plant has been so altered by cultivation as to have lost all likeness to its original self.

Our forefathers seem to have eaten the parsley _root_ as well as the leaves--

"Quinces and Peris ciryppe with Parcely rotes Right so bygyn your mele."

RUSSELL'S _Boke of Nurture_, 826.

"Peres and Quynces in syrupe with Percely rotes."

WYNKYN DE WORDE'S _Boke of Kervynge_.

FOOTNOTES:

[198:1] "Names of Herbes," s.v. Apium.

PEACH

(1) _Prince Henry._

To take note how many pair of silk stockings thou hast, viz., these, and those that were thy Peach-coloured ones!

_2nd Henry IV_, act ii, sc. 2 (17).

(2) _Pompey._

Then there is here one Master Caper, at the suit of Master Threepile the mercer, for some four suits of Peach-coloured satin, which now peaches him a beggar.

_Measure for Measure_, act iv, sc. 3 (10).

The references here are only to the colour of the Peach blossom, yet the Peach tree was a well-known tree in Shakespeare's time, and the fruit was esteemed a great delicacy, and many different varieties were cultivated. Botanically the Peach is closely allied to the Almond, and still more closely to the Apricot and Nectarine; indeed, many writers consider both the Apricot and Nectarine to be only varieties of the Peach.

The native country of the Peach is now ascertained to be China, and not Persia, as the name would imply. It probably came to the Romans through Persia, and was by them introduced into England. It occurs in Archbishop's Ælfric's "Vocabulary" in the tenth century, "Persicarius, Perseoctreow;" and John de Garlande grew it in the thirteenth century, "In virgulto Magistri Johannis, pessicus fert pessica." It is named in the "Promptorium Parvulorum" as "Peche, or Peske, frute--Pesca Pomum Persicum;" and in a note the Editor says: "In a role of purchases for the Palace of Westminster preserved amongst the miscellaneous record of the Queen's remembrance, a payment occurs, Will le Gardener, pro iij koygnere, ij pichere iij_s._--pro groseillere iij_d_, pro j peschere vj_d._" A.D. 1275, 4 Edw: 1--

We all know and appreciate the fruit of the Peach, but few seem to know how ornamental a tree is the Peach, quite independent of the fruit. In those parts where the soil and climate are suitable, the Peach may be grown as an ornamental spring flowering bush. When so grown preference is generally given to the double varieties, of which there are several, and which are not by any means the new plants that they are generally supposed to be, as they were cultivated both by Gerard and Parkinson.

PEAR.

(1) _Falstaff._

I warrant they would whip me with their fine wits till I were as crest-fallen as a dried Pear.

_Merry Wives of Windsor_, act iv, sc. 5 (101).

(2) _Parolles._

Your virginity, your old virginity, is like one of our French withered Pears, it looks ill, it eats drily; marry, 'tis a withered Pear; it was formerly better; marry, yet 'tis a withered Pear.

_All's Well that Ends Well_, act i, sc. 1 (174).

(3) _Clown._

I must have Saffron to colour the Warden pies.

_Winter's Tale_, act iv, sc. 3 (48).

(4) _Mercutio._

O, Romeo . . . thou a Poperin Pear.

_Romeo and Juliet_, act ii, sc. 1 (37).

If we may judge by these few notices, Shakespeare does not seem to have had much respect for the Pear, all the references to the fruit being more or less absurd or unpleasant. Yet there were good Pears in his day, and so many different kinds that Gerard declined to tell them at length, for "the stocke or kindred of Pears are not to be numbered; every country hath his peculiar fruit, so that to describe them apart were to send an owle to Athens, or to number those things that are without number."

Of these many sorts Shakespeare mentions by name but two, the Warden and the Poperin, and it is not possible to identify these with modern varieties with any certainty. The Warden was probably a general name for large keeping and stewing Pears, and the name was said to come from the Anglo-Saxon _wearden_, to keep or preserve, in allusion to its lasting qualities. But this is certainly a mistake. In an interesting paper by Mr. Hudson Turner, "On the State of Horticulture in England in early times, chiefly previous to the fifteenth century," printed in the "Archæological Journal," vol. v. p. 301, it is stated that "the Warden Pear had its origin and its name from the horticultural skill of the Cistercian Monks of Wardon Abbey in Bedfordshire, founded in the twelfth century. Three Warden Pears appeared in the armorial bearings of the Abbey."

It was certainly an early name. In the "Catholicon Anglicum" we find: "A Parmayn, volemum, Anglice, a Warden;" and in Parkinson's time the name was still in use, and he mentions two varieties, "The Warden or Lukewards Pear are of two sorts, both white and red, both great and small." (The name of Lukewards seems to point to St. Luke's Day, October 18, as perhaps the time either for picking the fruit or for its ripening.) "The Spanish Warden is greater than either of both the former, and better also." And he further says: "The Red Warden and the Spanish Warden are reckoned amongst the most excellent of Pears, either to bake or to roast, for the sick or for the sound--and indeed the Quince and the Warden are the only two fruits that are permitted to the sick to eat at any time." The Warden pies of Shakespeare's day, coloured with Saffron, have in our day been replaced by stewed Pears coloured with Cochineal.[200:1]

I can find no guide to the identification of the Poperin Pear, beyond Parkinson's description: "The summer Popperin and the winter Popperin, both of them very good, firm, dry Pears, somewhat spotted and brownish on the outside. The green Popperin is a winter fruit of equal goodnesse with the former." It was probably a Flemish Pear, and may have been introduced by the antiquary Leland, who was made Rector of Popering by Henry VIII. The place is further known to us as mentioned by Chaucer--

"A knyght was fair and gent In batail and in tornament, His name was Sir Thopas. Alone he was in fer contre, In Flaundres, all beyonde the se, At Popering in the place."

As a garden tree the Pear is not only to be grown for its fruit, but as a most ornamental tree. Though the individual flowers are not, perhaps, so handsome as the Apple blossoms, yet the growth of the tree is far more elegant; and an old Pear tree, with its curiously roughened bark, its upright, tall, pyramidal shape, and its sheet of snow-white blossoms, is a lovely ornament in the old gardens and lawns of many of our country houses. It is by some considered a British tree, but it is probably only a naturalized foreigner, originally introduced by the Romans.

FOOTNOTES:

[200:1] The Warden was sometimes spoken of as different from Pears. Sir Hugh Platt speaks of "Wardens _or_ Pears."

PEAS.

(1) _Iris._

Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas Of Wheat, Rye, Barley, Vetches, Oats, and Pease.

_Tempest_, act iv, sc. 1 (60).

(2) _Carrier._

Peas and Beans are as dank here as a dog.

_1st Henry IV_, act ii, sc. 1 (9). (_See_ BEANS.)

(3) _Biron._

This fellow picks up wit, as pigeons Pease.

_Love's Labour's Lost_, act v, sc. 2 (315).

(4) _Bottom._

I had rather have a handful or two of dried Peas.

_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act iv, sc. 1 (41).

(5) _Fool._

That a shealed Peascod?

_King Lear_, act i, sc. 4 (219).

(6) _Touchstone._

I remember the wooing of a Peascod instead of her.

_As You Like It_, act ii, sc. 4 (51).

(7) _Malvolio._

Not yet old enough to be a man, nor young enough for a boy; as a Squash is before 'tis a Peascod, or a Codling when 'tis almost an Apple.

_Twelfth Night_, act i, sc. 5 (165).

(8) _Hostess._

Well, fare thee well! I have known thee these twenty-nine years come Peascod time.

_2nd Henry IV_, act ii, sc. 4 (412).

(9) _Leontes._

How like, methought, I then was to this kernel, This Squash, this gentleman.

_Winter's Tale_, act i, sc. 2 (159).

(10)

_Peascod, Pease-Blossom, and Squash_--Dramatis personæ in _Midsummer Night's Dream_.

There is no need to say much of Peas, but it may be worth a note in passing that in old English we seldom meet with the word Pea. Peas or Pease (the Anglicised form of Pisum) is the singular, of which the plural is Peason. "Pisum is called in Englishe a Pease;" says Turner--

"Alle that for me thei doo pray, Helpeth me not to the uttermost day The value of a Pese."

_The Child of Bristowe_, p. 570.

And the word was so used in and after Shakespeare's time, as by Ben Jonson--

"A pill as small as a pease."--_Magnetic Lady._

The Squash is the young Pea, before the Peas are formed in it, and the Peascod is the ripe shell of the Pea before it is shelled.[202:1] The garden Pea (_Pisum sativum_) is the cultivated form of a plant found in the South of Europe, but very much altered by cultivation. It was probably not introduced into England as a garden vegetable long before Shakespeare's time. It is not mentioned in the old lists of plants before the sixteenth century, and Fuller tells us that in Queen Elizabeth's time they were brought from Holland, and were "fit dainties for ladies, they came so far and cost so dear."

The beautiful ornamental Peas (Sweet Peas, Everlasting Peas, &c.) are of different family (Lathyrus, not Pisum), but very closely allied. There is a curious amount of folklore connected with Peas, and in every case the Peas and Peascods are connected with wooing the lasses. This explains Touchstone's speech (No. 6). Brand gives several instances of this, from which one stanza from Browne's "Pastorals" may be quoted--

"The Peascod greene, oft with no little toyle, He'd seek for in the fattest, fertil'st soile, And rend it from the stalke to bring it to her, And in her bosom for acceptance wooe her."

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