Chapter 17 of 25 · 10673 words · ~53 min read

Book i

, c. 23, Hendrie's translation).

Though the chief fame of the Saffron Crocus is as a field plant, yet it is also a very handsome flower; but it is a most capricious one, which may account for the area of cultivation being so limited. In some places it entirely refuses to flower, as it does in my own garden, where I have cultivated it for many years but never saw a flower, while in a neighbour's garden, under apparently the very same conditions of soil and climate, it flowers every autumn. But if we cannot succeed with the Saffron Crocus, there are many other Croci which were known in the time of Shakespeare, and grown not "for any other use than in regard of their beautiful flowers of several varieties, as they have been carefully sought out and preserved by divers to furnish a garden of dainty curiosity." Gerard had in his garden only six species; Parkinson had or described thirty-one different sorts, and after his time new kinds were not so much sought after till Dean Herbert collected and studied them. His monograph of the Crocus, in 1847, contained the account of forty-one species, besides many varieties. The latest arrangement of the family by Mr. George Maw, of Broseley, contains sixty-eight species, besides varieties; of these all are not yet in cultivation, but every year sees some fresh addition to the number, chiefly by the unwearied exertions in finding them in their native habitats, and the liberal distribution of them when found, of Mr. Maw, to whom all the lovers of the Crocus are deeply indebted. And the Croci are so beautiful that we cannot have too many of them; they are, for the most part, perfectly hardy, though some few require a little protection in winter; they are of an infinite variety of colour, and some flower in the spring and some in the autumn. Most of us call the Crocus a spring flower, yet there are more autumnal than vernal species, but it is as a spring flower that we most value it. The common yellow Crocus is almost as much "the first-born of the year's delight" as the Snowdrop. No one can tell its native country, but it has been the brightest ornament of our gardens, not only in spring, but even in winter, for many years. It was probably first introduced during Shakespeare's life. "It hath floures," says Gerard, "of a most perfect shining yellow colour, seeming afar off to be a hot glowing coal of fire. That pleasant plant was sent unto me from Robinus, of Paris, that painful and most curious searcher of simples." From that beginning perhaps it has found its way into every garden, for it increases rapidly, is very hardy, and its brightness commends it to all. It is the "most gladsome of the early flowers. None gives more glowing welcome to the season, or strikes on our first glance with a ray of keener pleasure, when, with some bright morning's warmth, the solitary golden fringes have kindled into knots of thick-clustered yellow bloom on the borders of the cottage garden. At a distance the eye is caught by that glowing patch, its warm heart open to the sun, and dear to the honey-gathering bees which hum around the chalices."--FORBES WATSON.

With this pretty picture I may well close the account of the Crocus, but not because the subject is exhausted, for it is very tempting to go much further, and to speak of the beauties of the many species, and of the endless forms and colours of the grand Dutch varieties; and whatever admiration may be expressed for the common yellow Dutch Crocus, the same I would also give to almost every member of this lovely and cheerful family.

FOOTNOTES:

[268:1] Fuller says of the crocodile--"He hath his name of +chrocho-deilos+, or the Saffron-fearer, knowing himself to be all poison, and it all antidote."--_Worthies of England_, i, 336, ed. 1811.

[270:1] "Cilician," or "Corycean," were the established classical epithets to use when speaking of the Saffron. Cowley quotes--

"Corycii pressura Croci"--LUCAN;

"Ultima Corycio quæ cadit aura Croco"--MARTIAL;

and adds the note--"Omnes Poetæ hoc quasi solenni quodam Epitheto utuntur. Corycus nomen urbis et montis in Cilicia, ubi laudatissimus Crocus nascebatur."--_Plantarum_, lib. i, 49.

[270:2] "Saffron is . . . a native of Cashmere, . . . and the . . . Saffron Crocus and the Hemp plant have followed their (the Aryans) migrations together throughout the temperate zone of the globe."--BIRDWOOD, _Handbook to the Indian Court_, p. 23.

[271:1] "Our English hony and Safron is better than any that commeth from any strange or foregn land."--BULLEIN, _Government of Health_, 1588.

[271:2] The arms of the borough of Saffron Walden are "three Saffron flowers walled in."

SAMPHIRE.

_Edgar._

Half-way down Hangs one that gathers Samphire, dreadful trade! Methinks he seems no bigger than his head.

_King Lear_, act iv, sc. 6 (14).

Being found only on rocks, the Samphire was naturally associated with St. Peter, and so it was called in Italian Herba di San Pietro, in English Sampire and Rock Sampier[274:1]--in other words, Samphire is simply a corruption of Saint Peter. The plant grows round all the coasts of Great Britain and Ireland, wherever there are suitable rocks on which it can grow, and on all the coasts of Europe, except the northern coasts; and it is a plant very easily recognized, if not by its pale-green, fleshy leaves, yet certainly by its taste, or its "smell delightful and pleasant." The leaves form the pickle, "the pleasantest sauce, most familiar, and best agreeing with man's body," but now much out of fashion. In Shakespeare's time the gathering of Samphire was a regular trade, and Steevens quotes from Smith's "History of Waterford" to show the danger attending the trade: "It is terrible to see how people gather it, hanging by a rope several fathoms from the top of the impending rocks, as it were in the air." In our own time the quantity required could be easily got without much danger, for it grows in places perfectly accessible in sufficient quantity for the present requirements, for in some parts it grows away from the cliffs, so that "the fields about Porth Gwylan, in Carnarvonshire, are covered with it." It may even be grown in the garden, especially in gardens near the sea, and makes a pretty plant for rockwork.

There is a story connected with the Samphire which shows how botanical knowledge, like all other knowledge, may be of great service, even where least expected. Many years ago a ship was wrecked on the Sussex coast, and a small party were left on a rock not far from land. To their horror they found the sea rising higher and higher, and threatening before long to cover their place of refuge. Some of them proposed to try and swim for land, and would have done so, but just as they were preparing for it an officer saw a plant of Samphire growing on the rock, and told them they might stay and trust to that little plant that the sea would rise no further, for that the Samphire, though always growing within the spray of the sea, never grows where the sea could actually touch it. They believed him and were saved.

FOOTNOTES:

[274:1] Dr. Prior.

SAVORY.

_Perdita._

Here's flowers for you; Hot Lavender, Mints, Savory, Marjoram.

_Winter's Tale_, act iv, sc. 4. (103).

Savory might be supposed to get its name as being a plant of special savour, but the name comes from its Latin name _Saturcia_, through the Italian _Savoreggia_. It is a native of the South of Europe, probably introduced into England by the Romans, for it is mentioned in the Anglo-Saxon recipes under the imported name of Savorie. It was a very favourite plant in the old herb gardens, and both kinds, the Winter and Summer Savory, were reckoned "among the farsing or farseting herbes, as they call them" (Parkinson), _i.e._, herbs used for stuffing.[275:1] Both kinds are still grown in herb gardens, but are very little used.

FOOTNOTES:

[275:1]

"His typet was ay farsud ful of knyfes And pynnes, for to give fair wyves."

_Canterbury Tale_, Prologue.

"The farced title running before the King."

_Henry V_, act iv, sc. 1 (431).

The word still exists as "forced;" _e.g._, "a forced leg of mutton," "forced meat balls."

SEDGE.

(1) _2nd Servant._

And Cytherea all in Sedges hid, Which seem to move and wanton with her breath, Even as the waving Sedges play with wind.

_Taming of the Shrew_, Induction, sc. 2. (53).

(2) _Iris._

You nymphs, called Naiads, of the winding brooks, With your Sedged crowns and ever-harmless looks.

_Tempest_, act iv, sc. 1 (128).

(3) _Julia._

The current that with gentle murmur glides, Thou knowest, being stopped, impatiently doth rage; But when his fair course is not hindered, He makes sweet music with the enamell'd stones, Giving a gentle kiss to every Sedge He overtaketh in his pilgrimage; And so by many winding nooks he strays With willing sport to the wild ocean.

_Two Gentlemen of Verona_, act ii, sc. 7 (25).

(4) _Benedick._

Alas, poor hurt fowl! now will he creep into Sedges.

_Much Ado About Nothing_, act ii, sc. 1 (209).

(5) _Hotspur._

The gentle Severn's Sedgy bank.

_1st Henry IV_, act i, sc. 3 (98).

(6) _See_ REEDS, No. 7.

Sedge is from the Anglo-Saxon Secg, and meant almost any waterside plant. Thus we read of the Moor Secg, and the Red Secg, and the Sea Holly (_Eryngium maritimum_) is called the Holly Sedge. And so it was doubtless used by Shakespeare. In our day Sedge is confined to the genus Carex, a family growing in almost all parts of the world, and containing about 1000 species, of which we have fifty-eight in Great Britain; they are most graceful ornaments both of our brooks and ditches; and some of them will make handsome garden plants. One very handsome species--perhaps the handsomest--is C. pendula, with long tassel-like flower-spikes hanging down in a very beautiful form, which is not uncommon as a wild plant, and can easily be grown in the garden, and the flower-spikes will be found very handsome additions to tall nosegays. There is another North American species, C. Fraseri, which is a good plant for the north side of a rock-work: it is a small plant, but the flower is a spike of the purest white, and is very curious, and unlike any other flower.

SENNA.

_Macbeth._

What Rhubarb, Senna, or what purgative drug Would scour these English hence?[277:1]

_Macbeth_, act v, sc. 3 (55).

Even in the time of Shakespeare several attempts were made to grow the Senna in England, but without success; so that he probably only knew it as an important "purgative drug." The Senna of commerce is made from the leaves of Cassia lanceolata and Cassia Senna, both natives of Africa, and so unfitted for open-air cultivation in England. The Cassias are a large family, mostly with handsome yellow flowers, some of which are very ornamental greenhouse plants; and one from North America, Cassia Marylandica, may be considered hardy in the South of England.

FOOTNOTES:

[277:1] In this passage the old reading for "Senna" is "Cyme," and this is the reading of the Globe Shakespeare; but I quote the passage with "Senna" because it is so printed in many editions.

SPEARGRASS.

_Peto._

He persuaded us to do the like.

_Bardolph._

Yea, and to tickle our noses with Speargrass to make them bleed, and then to beslubber our garments with it and swear it was the blood of true men.

_1st Henry IV_, act ii, sc. 4 (339).

Except in this passage I can only find Speargrass mentioned in Lupton's "Notable Things," and there without any description, only as part of a medical recipe: "Whosoever is tormented with sciatica or the hip gout, let them take an herb called Speargrass, and stamp it and lay a little thereof upon the grief." The plant is not mentioned by Lyte, Gerard, Parkinson, or the other old herbalists, and so it is somewhat of a puzzle. Steevens quotes from an old play, "Victories of Henry the Fifth": "Every day I went into the field, I would take a straw and thrust it into my nose, and make my nose bleed;" but a straw was never called Speargrass. Asparagus was called Speerage, and the young shoots might have been used for the purpose, but I have never heard of such a use; Ranunculus flammula was called Spearwort, from its lanceolate leaves, and so (according to Cockayne) was Carex acuta, still called Spiesgrass in German. Mr. Beisly suggests the Yarrow or Millfoil; and we know from several authorities (Lyte, Hollybush, Gerard, Phillip, Cole, Skinner, and Lindley) that the Yarrow was called Nosebleed; but there seems no reason to suppose that it was ever called Speargrass, or could have been called a Grass at all, though the term Grass was often used in the most general way. Dr. Prior suggests the Common Reed, which is probable. I have been rather inclined to suppose it to be one of the Horse-tails (Equiseta).[278:1] They are very sharp and spearlike, and their rough surfaces would soon draw blood; and as a decoction of Horse-tail was a remedy for stopping bleeding of the nose, I have thought it very probable that such a supposed virtue could only have arisen when remedies were sought for on the principle of "similia similibus curantur;" so that a plant, which in one form produced nose-bleeding, would, when otherwise administered, be the natural remedy. But I now think that all these suggested plants must give way in favour of the common Couch-grass (_Triticum repens_). In the eastern counties, this is still called Speargrass; and the sharp underground stolons might easily draw blood, when the nose is tickled with them. The old emigrants from the eastern counties took the name with them to America, but applied it to a Poa (Webster's "Dictionary," s.v. Speargrass).

FOOTNOTES:

[278:1] "Hippurus Anglice dicitur sharynge gyrs."--TURNER'S _Libellus_, 1538.

SQUASH, _see_ PEAS.

STOVER.

_Iris._

Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep, And flat meads thatch'd with Stover, them to keep.

_Tempest_, act iv, sc. 1 (62).

In this passage, Stover is probably the bent or dried Grass still remaining on the land, but it is the common word for hay or straw, or for "fodder and provision for all sorts of cattle; from _Estovers_, law term, which is so explained in the law dictionaries. Both are derived from _Estouvier_ in the old French, defined by Roquefort--'Convenance, nécessité, provision de tout ce qui est nécessaire.'"--NARES. The word is of frequent occurrence in the writers of the time of Shakespeare. One quotation from Tusser will be sufficient--

"Keepe dry thy straw--

"If house-roome will serve thee, lay Stover up drie, And everie sort by it selfe for to lie. Or stack it for litter if roome be too poore, And thatch out the residue, noieng thy door."

_November's Husbandry._

STRAWBERRY.

(1) _Iago._

Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchief Spotted with Strawberries in your wife's hand?[279:1]

_Othello_, act iii, sc. 3 (434).

(2) _Ely._

The Strawberry grows underneath the Nettle, And wholesome berries thrive and ripen best Neighbour'd by fruit of baser quality; And so the prince obscured his contemplation Under the veil of wildness.

_Henry V_, act i, sc. 1 (60).

(3) _Gloster._

My Lord of Ely, when I was last in Holborn, I saw good Strawberries in your garden there; I do beseech you send for some of them.

_Ely._

Marry, and will, my Lord, with all my heart.

* * * * *

Where is my lord Protector? I have sent For these Strawberries.

_King Richard III_, act iii, sc. 4 (32).

The Bishop of Ely's garden in Holborn must have been one of the chief gardens of England in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, for this is the third time it has been brought under our notice. It was celebrated for its Roses (_see_ ROSE); it was so celebrated for its Saffron Crocuses that part of it acquired the name which it still keeps, Saffron Hill; and now we hear of its "good Strawberries;" while the remembrance of "the ample garden," and of the handsome Lord Chancellor to whom it was given when taken from the bishopric, is still kept alive in its name of Hatton Garden. How very good our forefathers' Strawberries were, we have a strong proof in old Isaak Walton's happy words: "Indeed, my good scholar, we may say of angling as Dr. Boteler said of Strawberries: 'Doubtless God could have made a better berry, but doubtless God never did;' and so, if I might be judge, God never did make a more calm, quiet, innocent recreation than angling." I doubt whether, with our present experience of good Strawberries, we should join in this high praise of the Strawberries of Shakespeare's or Isaak Walton's day, for their varieties of Strawberry must have been very limited in comparison to ours. Their chief Strawberry was the Wild Strawberry brought straight from the woods, and no doubt much improved in time by cultivation. Yet we learn from Spenser and from Tusser that it was the custom to grow it just as it came from the woods.

Spenser says--

"One day as they all three together went Into the wood to gather Strawberries."--_F. Q._, vi. 34;

and Tusser--

"Wife, into thy garden, and set me a plot With Strawbery rootes of the best to be got: Such growing abroade, among Thornes in the wood, Wel chosen and picked, prove excellent good.

* * * * *

The Gooseberry, Respis, and Roses al three With Strawberies under them trimly agree."

_September's Husbandry._

And even in the next century, Sir Hugh Plat said--

"Strawberries which grow in woods prosper best in gardens."

_Garden of Eden_, i, 20.[281:1]

Besides the wild one (_Fragaria vesca_), they had the Virginian (_F. Virginiana_), a native of North America, and the parent of our scarlets; but they do not seem to have had the Hautbois (_F. elatior_), or the Chilian, or the Carolinas, from which most of our good varieties have descended.

The Strawberry is among fruits what the Primrose and Snowdrop are among flowers, the harbinger of other good fruits to follow. It is the earliest of the summer fruits, and there is no need to dwell on its delicate, sweet-scented freshness, so acceptable to all; but it has also a charm in autumn, known, however, but to few, and sometimes said to be only discernible by few. Among "the flowers that yield sweetest smell in the air," Lord Bacon reckoned Violets, and "next to that is the Musk Rose, then the Strawberry leaves dying, with a most excellent cordial smell." In Mrs. Gaskell's pretty tale, "My Lady Ludlow," the dying Strawberry leaves act an important part. "The great hereditary faculty on which my lady piqued herself, and with reason, for I never met with any other person who possessed it, was the power she had of perceiving the delicious odour arising from a bed of Strawberry leaves in the late autumn, when the leaves were all fading and dying." The old lady quotes Lord Bacon, and then says: "'Now the Hanburys can always smell the excellent cordial odour, and very delicious and refreshing it is. In the time of Queen Elizabeth the great old families of England were a distinct race, just as a cart-horse is one creature and very useful in its place, and Childers or Eclipse is another creature, though both are of the same species. So the old families have gifts and powers of a different and higher class to what the other orders have. My dear, remember that you try and smell the scent of dying Strawberry leaves in this next autumn, you have some of Ursula Hanbury's blood in you, and that gives you a chance.' 'But when October came I sniffed, and sniffed, and all to no purpose; and my lady, who had watched the little experiment rather anxiously, had to give me up as a hybrid'" ("Household Words," vol. xviii.). On this I can only say in the words of an old writer, "A rare and notable thing, if it be true, for I never proved it, and never tried it; therefore, as it proves so, praise it."[282:1] Spenser also mentions the scent, but not of the leaves or fruit, but of the flowers--

"Comming to kisse her lyps (such grace I found), Me seem'd I smelt a garden of sweet flowres That dainty odours from them threw around:

* * * * *

Her goodly bosome, lyke a Strawberry bed,

* * * * *

Such fragrant flowres doe give most odorous smell."[282:2]

_Sonnet_ lxiv.

There is a considerable interest connected with the name of the plant, and much popular error. It is supposed to be called Strawberry because the berries have straw laid under them, or from an old custom of selling the wild ones strung on straws.[282:3] In Shakespeare's time straw was used for the protection of Strawberries, but not in the present fashion--

"If frost doe continue, take this for a lawe, The Strawberies look to be covered with strawe. Laid ouerly trim upon crotchis and bows, And after uncovered as weather allows."

TUSSER, _December's Husbandry_.

But the name is much more ancient than either of these customs. Strawberry in different forms, as Strea-berige, Streaberie-wisan, Streaw-berige, Streaw-berian wisan, Streberilef, Strabery, Strebere-wise, is its name in the old English Vocabularies, while it appears first in its present form in a Pictorial Vocabulary of the fifteenth century, "Hoc ffragrum, A{ce} a Strawbery." What the word really means is pleasantly told by a writer in Seeman's "Journal of Botany," 1869: "How well this name indicates the now prevailing practice of English gardeners laying straw under the berry in order to bring it to perfection, and prevent it from touching the earth, which without that precaution it naturally does, and to which it owes its German _Erdbeere_, making us almost forget that in this instance 'straw' has nothing to do with the practice alluded to, but is an obsolete past-participle of 'to strew,' in allusion to the habit of the plant." This obsolete word is preserved in our English Bibles, "gathering where thou hast not strawed," "he strawed it upon the water," "straw me with apples;" and in Shakespeare--

The bottom poison, and the top o'erstrawed With sweets.--_Venus and Adonis._

From another point of view there is almost as great a mistake in the second half of the name, for in strict botanical language the fruit of the Strawberry is not a berry; it is not even "exactly a fruit, but is merely a fleshy receptacle bearing fruit, the true fruit being the ripe carpels, which are scattered over its surface in the form of minute grains looking like seeds, for which they are usually mistaken, the seed lying inside of the shell of the carpel." It is exactly the contrary to the Raspberry, a fruit not named by Shakespeare, though common in his time under the name of Rasps. "When you gather the Raspberry you throw away the receptacle under the name of core, never suspecting that it is the very part you had just before been feasting upon in the Strawberry. In the one case, the receptacle robs the carpels of all their juice in order to become gorged and bloated at their expense; in the other case, the carpels act in the same selfish manner upon the receptacles."--LINDLEY, _Ladies' Botany_.

Shakespeare's mention of the Strawberry and the Nettle (No. 2) deserves a passing note. It was the common opinion in his day that plants were affected by the neighbourhood of other plants to such an extent that they imbibed each other's virtues and faults. Thus sweet flowers were planted near fruit trees, with the idea of improving the flavour of the fruit, and evil-smelling trees, like the Elder, were carefully cleared away from fruit trees, lest they should be tainted. But the Strawberry was supposed to be an exception to the rule, and was supposed to thrive in the midst of "evil communications" without being corrupted. Preachers and emblem-writers naturally seized upon this: "In tilling our gardens we cannot but admire the fresh innocence and purity of the Strawberry, because although it creeps along the ground, and is continually crushed by serpents, lizards, and other venomous reptiles, yet it does not imbibe the slightest impression of poison, or the smallest malignant quality, a true sign that it has no affinity with poison. And so it is with human virtues," &c. "In conversation take everything peacefully, no matter what is said or done. In this manner you may remain innocent amidst the hissing of serpents, and, as a little Strawberry, you will not suffer contamination from slimy things creeping near you."--ST. FRANCIS DE SALES.

I need only add that the Strawberry need not be confined to the kitchen garden, as there are some varieties which make very good carpet plants, such as the variegated Strawberry, which, however, is very capricious in its variegation; the double Strawberry, which bears pretty white button-like flowers; and the Fragaria lucida from California, which has very bright shining leaves, and was, when first introduced, supposed to be useful in crossing with other species; but I have not heard that this has been successfully effected.

FOOTNOTES:

[279:1] "Mrs. Somerville made for me a delicate outline sketch of what is called Othello's house in Venice, and a beautifully coloured copy of his shield surmounted by the Doge's cap, and bearing three Mulberries for device--proving the truth of the assertion that the _Otelli del Moro_ were a noble Venetian folk, who came originally from the Morea, whose device was the Mulberry, the growth of that country, and showing how curious a jumble Shakespeare has made both of name and device in calling him a _Moor_, and embroidering his arms on his handkerchief as _Strawberries_."--F. KEMBLE'S _Records_, vol. i. 145.

[281:1] It seems probable that the Romans only knew of the Wild Strawberry, of which both Virgil and Ovid speak--

"Qui legitis flores et humi nascentia fraga."--_Ecl._, ii.

"Contentique cibis nullo cogente creatis Arbuteos foetus montanaque fraga legebant."--_Metam._, i, 105.

[282:1] "Quæ neque confirmare argumentis neque refellere in animo est; ex ingenio suo quisque demat vel addat fidem."--TACITUS.

[282:2] The flowers of Fragaria lucida are slightly violet-scented, but I know of no Strawberry flower that can be said to "give most odorous smell."

[282:3]

"The wood nymphs oftentimes would busied be, And pluck for him the blushing Strawberry, Making from them a bracelet on a bent, Which for a favour to this swain they sent."

BROWNE'S _Brit. Past._, i, 2.

SUGAR.

(1) _Prince Henry._

But, sweet Ned--to sweeten which name of Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of Sugar, clapped even now into my hand by an under-skinker.

* * * * *

To drive away the time till Falstaff comes, I prithee, do thou stand in some by-room, while I question my puny drawer to what end he gave me the Sugar.

* * * * *

Nay, but hark you, Francis; for the Sugar thou gavest me, 'twas a pennyworth, was't not?

_1st Henry IV_, act ii, sc. 4 (23, 31, 64).

(2) _Biron._

White-handed mistress, one sweet word with thee.

_Princess._

Honey, and Milk, and Sugar, there is three.

_Love's Labour's Lost_, act v, sc. 2 (230).

(3) _Quickly._

And in such wine and Sugar of the best and the fairest, that would have won any woman's heart.

_Merry Wives_, act ii, sc. 2 (70).

(4) _Bassanio._

Here are sever'd lips Parted with Sugar breath; so sweet a bar Should sunder such sweet friends.

_Merchant of Venice_, act iii, sc. 2 (118).

(5) _Touchstone._

Honesty coupled to beauty is to have honey a sauce to Sugar.

_As You Like It_, act iii, sc. 2 (30).

(6) _Northumberland._

Your fair discourse hath been as Sugar, Making the hard way sweet and delectable.

_Richard II_, act ii, sc. 3 (6).

(7) _Clown._

Let me see,--what am I to buy for our sheep-shearing feast? Three pound of Sugar, five pound of Currants.

_Winter's Tale_, act iv, sc. 3 (39).

(8) _K. Henry._

You have witchcraft in your lips, Kate: there is more eloquence in a Sugar touch of them than in the tongues of the French council.

_Henry V_, act v, sc. 2 (401).

(9) _Queen Margaret._

Poor painted Queen, vain flourish of my fortune! Why strew'st thou Sugar on that bottled spider, Whose deadly web ensnareth thee about?

_Richard III_, act i, sc. 3 (241).

(10) _Gloucester._

Your grace attended to their Sugar'd words, But look'd not on the poison of their hearts.

_Richard III_, act iii, sc. 1 (13).

(11) _Polonius._

We are oft to blame in this-- Tis too much proved--that with devotion's visage And pious actions we do Sugar o'er The devil himself.

_Hamlet_, act iii, sc. 1 (46).

(12) _Brabantio._

These sentences, to Sugar, or to gall, Being strong on both sides, are equivocal.

_Othello_, act i, sc. 3 (216).

(13) _Timon._

And never learn'd The icy precepts of respect, but follow'd The Sugar'd game before thee.

_Timon of Athens_, act iv, sc. 3 (257).

(14) _Pucelle._

By fair persuasion mix'd with Sugar'd words We will entice the Duke of Burgundy.

_1st Henry VI_, act iii, sc. 3 (18).

(15) _K. Henry._

Hide not thy poison with such Sugar'd words.

_2nd Henry VI_, act iii, sc. 2 (45).

(16) _Prince Henry._

One poor pennyworth of Sugar-candy, to make thee long-winded.

_1st Henry IV_, act iii, sc. 3 (180).

(17)

Thy Sugar'd tongue to bitter Wormwood taste.

_Lucrece_ (893).

As a pure vegetable product, though manufactured, Sugar cannot be passed over in an account of the plants of Shakespeare; but it will not be necessary to say much about it. Yet the history of the migrations of the Sugar-plant is sufficiently interesting to call for a short notice.

Its original home seems to have been in the East Indies, whence it was imported in very early times. It is probably the "sweet cane" of the Bible; and among classical writers it is named by Strabo, Lucan, Varro, Seneca, Dioscorides, and Pliny. The plant is said to have been introduced into Europe during the Crusades, and to have been cultivated in the Morea, Rhodes, Malta, Sicily, and Spain.[286:1] By the Spaniards it was taken first to Madeira and the Cape de Verd Islands, and, very soon after the discovery of America, to the West Indies. There it soon grew rapidly, and increased enormously, and became a chief article of commerce, so that though we now almost look upon it as entirely a New World plant, it is in fact but a stranger there, that has found a most congenial home.

In 1468 the price of Sugar was sixpence a pound, equal to six shillings of our money,[287:1] but in Shakespeare's time it must have been very common,[287:2] or it could not so largely have worked its way into the common English language and proverbial expressions; and it must also have been very cheap, or it could not so entirely have superseded the use of honey, which in earlier times was the only sweetening material.

Shakespeare may have seen the living plant, for it was grown as a curiosity in his day, though Gerard could not succeed with it: "Myself did plant some shootes thereof in my garden, and some in Flanders did the like, but the coldness of our clymate made an end of myne, and I think the Flemmings will have the like profit of their labour." But he bears testimony to the large use of Sugar in his day; "of the juice of the reede is made the most pleasant and profitable sweet called Sugar, whereof is made infinite confections, sirupes, and such like, as also preserving and conserving of sundrie fruits, herbes and flowers, as roses, violets, rosemary flowers and such like."

FOOTNOTES:

[286:1] "It is the juice of certain canes or reedes whiche growe most plentifully in the Ilandes of Madera, Sicilia, Cyprus, Rhodus and Candy. It is made by art in boyling of the Canes, much like as they make their white salt in the Witches in Cheshire."--COGHAN, _Haven of Health_, 1596, p. 110.

[287:1] "Babee's Book," xxx.

[287:2] It is mentioned by Chaucer--

"Gyngerbred that was so fyn. And licorys and eek comyn With Sugre that is trye."--_Tale of Sir Thopas._

SWEET MARJORAM, _see_ MARJORAM.

SYCAMORE.

(1) _Desdemona_ (singing).

The poor soul sat sighing by a Sycamore tree.

_Othello_, act iv, sc. 3 (41).

(2) _Benvolio._

Underneath the grove of Sycamore That westward rooteth from the city's side, So early walking did I see your son.

_Romeo and Juliet_, act i, sc. 1 (130).

(3) _Boyet._

Under the cool shade of a Sycamore I thought to close mine eyes some half an hour.

_Love's Labour's Lost_, act v, sc. 2 (89).

In its botanical relationship, the Sycamore is closely allied to the Maple, and was often called the Great Maple, and is still so called in Scotland. It is not indigenous in Great Britain, but it has long been naturalized among us, and has taken so kindly to our soil and climate that it is one of our commonest trees. It is one of the best of forest trees for resisting wind; it "scorns to be biassed in its mode of growth even by the prevailing wind, but shooting its branches with equal boldness in every direction, shows no weatherside to the storm, and may be broken, but never can be bended."-_Old Mortality_, c. i.

The history of the name is curious. The Sycomore, or Zicamine tree of the Bible and of Theophrastus and Dioscorides, is the Fig-mulberry, a large handsome tree indigenous in Africa and Syria, and largely planted,

## partly for the sake of its fruit, and especially for the delicious shade

it gives. With this tree the early English writers were not acquainted, but they found the name in the Bible, and applied it to any shade-giving tree. Thus in Ælfric's Vocabulary in the tenth century it is given to the Aspen--"Sicomorus vel celsa æps." Chaucer gives the name to some hedge shrub, but he probably used it for any thick shrub, without any very special distinction--

"The hedge also that yedde in compas And closed in all the greene herbere With Sicamour was set and Eglateere, Wrethen in fere so well and cunningly That every branch and leafe grew by measure Plaine as a bord, of an height by and by."

_The Flower and the Leaf._

Our Sycamore would be very ill suited to make the sides and roof of an arbour, but before the time of Shakespeare it seems certain that the name was attached to our present tree, and it is so called by Gerard and Parkinson.

The Sycamore is chiefly planted for its rapid growth rather than for its beauty. It becomes a handsome tree when fully grown, but as a young tree it is stiff and heavy, and at all times it is so infested with honeydew as to make it unfit for planting on lawns or near paths. It grows well in the north, where other trees will not well flourish, and "we frequently meet with the tree apart in the fields, or unawares in remote localities amidst the Lammermuirs and the Cheviots, where it is the surviving witness of the former existence of a hamlet there. Hence to the botanical rambler it has a more melancholy character than the Yew. It throws him back on past days, when he who planted the tree was the owner of the land and of the Hall, and whose name and race are forgotten even by tradition. . . . And there is reasonable pride in the ancestry when a grove of old gentlemanly Sycamores still shadows the Hall."--JOHNSTON. But these old Sycamores were not planted only for beauty: they were sometimes planted for a very unpleasant use. "They were used by the most powerful barons in the West of Scotland for hanging their enemies and refractory vassals on, and for this reason were called _dool_ or grief trees. Of these there are three yet standing, the most memorable being one near the fine old castle of Cassilis, one of the seats of the Marquis of Ailsa, on the banks of the River Doon. It was used by the family of Kennedy, who were the most powerful barons of the West of Scotland, for the purpose above mentioned."--JOHNS.

The wood of the Sycamore is useful for turning and a few other purposes, but is not very durable. The sap, as in all the Maples, is full of sugar, and the pollen is very curious; "it appears globular in the microscope, but if it be touched with anything moist, the globules burst open with four valves, and then they appear in the form of a cross."--MILLER.

THISTLE (_see also_ HOLY THISTLE).

(1) _Burgundy._

And nothing teems But hateful Docks, rough Thistles, Kecksies, Burs.

_Henry V_, act v, sc. 2 (51).

(2) _Bottom._

Mounsieur Cobweb, good mounsieur, get you your weapons ready in your hand, and kill me a red-hipped humble bee on the top of a Thistle; and, good mounsieur, bring me the honey-bag.

_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act iv, sc. 1 (10).

Thistle is the old English name for a large family of plants occurring chiefly in Europe and Asia, of which we have fourteen species in Great Britain, arranged under the botanical families of Carlina, Carduus, and Onopordon. It is the recognized symbol of untidiness and carelessness, being found not so much in barren ground as in good ground not properly cared for. So good a proof of a rich soil does the Thistle give, that a saying is attributed to a blind man who was choosing a piece of land--"Take me to a Thistle;" and Tusser says--

"Much wetnes, hog-rooting, and land out of hart makes Thistles a number foorthwith to upstart. If Thistles so growing proove lustie and long, It signifieth land to be hartie and strong."

_October's Husbandry_ (13).

If the Thistles were not so common, and if we could get rid of the associations they suggest, there are probably few of our wild plants that we should more admire: they are stately in their foliage and habit, and some of their flowers are rich in colour, and the Thistledown, which carries the seed far and wide, is very beautiful, and was once considered useful as a sign of rain, for "if the down flyeth off Coltsfoot, Dandelyon, or Thistles when there is no winde, it is a signe of rain."--COLES.

It had still another use in rustic divination--

"Upon the various earth's embroidered gown, There is a weed upon whose head grows down, Sow Thistle 'tis y'clept, whose downy wreath If anyone can blow off at a breath We deem her for a maid."--BROWNE'S _Brit. Past._, i, 4.

But it is owing to these pretty Thistledowns that the plant becomes a most undesirable neighbour, for they carry the seed everywhere, and wherever it is carried, it soon vegetates, and a fine crop of Thistles very quickly follows. In this way, if left to themselves, the Thistles will soon monopolize a large extent of country, to the extinction of other plants, as they have done in parts of the American prairies, and as they did in Australia, till a most stringent Act of Parliament was passed about twenty years ago, imposing heavy penalties upon all who neglected to destroy the Thistles on their land. For these reasons we cannot admit the Thistle into the garden, at least not our native Thistles; but there are some foreigners which may well be admitted. There are the handsome yellow Thistles of the South of Europe (_Scolymus_), which besides their beauty have a classical interest. "Hesiod elegantly describing the time of year, says,

+êmos de skolymos t'anthei+,

when the Scolymus flowers, _i.e._, in hot weather or summer ("Op. et dies," 582). This plant crowned with its golden flowers is abundant throughout Sicily."--HOGG'S _Classical Plants of Sicily_. There is the Fish-bone Thistle (_Chamæpeuce diacantha_) from Syria, a very handsome plant, and, like most of the Thistles, a biennial; but if allowed to flower and go to seed, it will produce plenty of seedlings for a succession of years. And there is a grand scarlet Thistle from Mexico, the Erythrolena conspicua ("Sweet," vol. ii. p. 134), which must be almost the handsomest of the family, and which was grown in England fifty years ago, but has been long lost. There are many others that may deserve a place as ornamental plants, but they find little favour, for "they are only Thistles."

Any notice of the Thistle would be imperfect without some mention of the Scotch Thistle. It is the one point in the history of the plant that protects it from contempt. We dare not despise a plant which is the honoured badge of our neighbours and relations, the Scotch; which is ennobled as the symbol of the Order of the Thistle, that claims to be the most ancient of all our Orders of high honour; and which defies you to insult it or despise it by its proud mottoes, "Nemo me impune lacessit," "Ce que Dieu garde, est bien gardé." What is the true Scotch Thistle even the Scotch antiquarians cannot decide, and in the uncertainty it is perhaps safest to say that no Thistle in particular can claim the sole honour, but that it extends to every member of the family that can be found in Scotland.[292:1]

Shakespeare has noticed the love of the bee for the Thistle, and it seems that it is for other purposes than honey gathering that he finds the Thistle useful. For "a beauty has the Thistle, when every delicate hair arrests a dew-drop on a showery April morning, and when the purple blossom of a roadside Thistle turns its face to Heaven and welcomes the wild bee, who lies close upon its flowerets on the approach of some storm cloud until its shadow be past away. For with unerring instinct the bee well knows that the darkness is but for a moment, and that the sun will shine out again ere long."--LADY WILKINSON.

FOOTNOTES:

[292:1] See an interesting and fanciful account of the fitness of the Thistle as the emblem of Scotland in Ruskin's "Proserpina," pp. 135-139.

THORNS.

(1) _Ariel._

Tooth'd Briers, sharp Furzes, pricking Goss, and Thorns, Which entered their frail skins.

_Tempest_, act iv, sc. 1 (180).

(2) _Quince._

One must come in with a bush of Thorns and a lanthorn, and say he comes in to disfigure, or to present, the person of Moonshine.

_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act iii, sc. 1 (60).

(3) _Puck._

For Briers and Thorns at their apparel snatch.

_Ibid._, act iii, sc. 2 (29).

(4) _Prologue._

This man with lanthorn, dog, and bush of Thorn, Presenteth Moonshine.

_Ibid._, act v, sc. 1 (136).

(5) _Moonshine._

All that I have to say, is to tell you that the lanthorn is the moon; I, the man in the moon; this Thorn-bush, my Thorn-bush; and this dog, my dog.

_Ibid._ (261).

(6) _Dumain._

But, alack, my hand is sworn Ne'er to pluck thee from thy Thorn.

_Love's Labour's Lost_, act iv, sc. 3 (111).

(7) _Carlisle._

The woe's to come; the children yet unborn Shall feel this day as sharp to them as Thorn.

_Richard II_, act iv, sc. 1 (322).

(8) _King Henry._

The care you have of us, To mow down Thorns that would annoy our foot, Is worthy praise.

_2nd Henry VI_, act iii, sc. 1 (66).

(9) _Gloucester._

And I--like one lost in a Thorny wood, That rends the Thorns and is rent with the Thorns, Seeking a way, and straying from the way.

_3rd Henry VI_, act iii, sc. 2 (174).

(10) _K. Edward._

Brave followers, yonder stands the Thorny wood.

_Ibid._, act v, sc. 4 (67).

(11) _K. Edward._

What! can so young a Thorn begin to prick.

_Ibid._, act v, sc. 4 (13).

(12) _Romeo._

Is love a tender thing? It is too rough, Too rude, too boisterous, and it pricks like Thorn.

_Romeo and Juliet_, act i, sc. 4 (25).

(13) _Boult._

A Thornier piece of ground.

_Pericles_, act iv, sc. 6 (153).

(14) _Leontes._

Which being spotted Is goads, Thorns, Nettles, tails of wasps.

_Winter's Tale_, act i, sc. 2 (328).

(15) _Florizel._

But O, the Thorns we stand upon!

_Ibid._, act iv, sc. 4 (596).

(16) _Ophelia._

Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, Shew me the steep and Thorny path to Heaven.

_Hamlet_, act i, sc. 3 (47).

(17) _Ghost._

Leave her to Heaven, And to those Thorns that in her bosom lodge, To prick and sting her.

_Ibid._, act i, sc. 5 (86).

(18) _Bastard._

I am amazed, methinks, and lose my way Among the Thorns and dangers of this world.

_King John_, act iv, sc. 3 (40).

_See also_ ROSE, Nos. 7, 18, 22, 30, the scene in the Temple gardens; and BRIER, No. 11.

Thorns and Thistles are the typical emblems of desolation and trouble, and so Shakespeare uses them; and had he spoken of Thorns in this sense only, I should have been doubtful as to admitting them among his other plants, but as in some of the passages they stand for the Hawthorn tree and the Rose bush, I could not pass them by altogether. They might need no further comment beyond referring for further information about them to Hawthorn, Briar, Rose, and Bramble; but in speaking of the Bramble I mentioned the curious legend which tells why the Bramble employs itself in collecting wool from every stray sheep, and there is another very curious instance in Blount's "Antient Tenures" of a connection between Thorns and wool. The original document is given in Latin, and is dated 39th Henry III. It may be thus translated: "Peter de Baldwyn holds in Combes, in the county of Surrey, by the service to go a wool gathering for our Lady the Queen among the White Thorns, and if he refuses to gather it he shall pay into the Treasury of our Lord the King xxs. per annum." I should almost suspect a false reading, as the editor is inclined to do, but that many other services, equally curious and improbable, may easily be found.

THYME.

(1) _Oberon._

I know a bank where the wild Thyme blows.

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

(2) _Iago._

We will plant Nettles or sow Lettuce, set Hyssop and weed up Thyme.

_Othello_, act i, sc. 3 (324). (_See_ HYSSOP.)

(3) And sweet Time true.

_Two Noble Kinsmen_, Introd. song.

It is one of the most curious of the curiosities of English plant names that the Wild Thyme--a plant so common and so widely distributed, and that makes itself so easily known by its fine aromatic, pungent scent, that it is almost impossible to pass it by without notice--has yet no English name, and seems never to have had one. Thyme is the Anglicised form of the Greek and Latin _Thymum_, which name it probably got from its use for incense in sacrifices, while its other name of _serpyllum_ pointed out its creeping habit. I do not know when the word Thyme was first introduced into the English language, for it is another curious point connected with the name, that _thymum_ does not occur in the old English vocabularies. We have in Ælfric's "Vocabulary," "Pollegia, hyl-wyrt," which may perhaps be the Thyme, though it is generally supposed to be the Pennyroyal; we have in a Vocabulary of thirteenth century, "Epitime, epithimum, fordboh," which also may be the Wild Thyme; we have in a Vocabulary of the fifteenth century, "Hoc sirpillum, A{ce} petergrys;" and in a Pictorial Vocabulary of the same date, "Hoc cirpillum, A{ce} a pellek" (which word is probably a misprint, for in the "Promptorium Parvulorum," c. 1440, it is "Peletyr, herbe, _serpillum piretrum_"), both of which are almost certainly the Wild Thyme; while in an Anglo-Saxon Vocabulary of the tenth or eleventh century we have "serpulum, crop-leac," _i.e._, the Onion, which must certainly be a mistake of the compiler. So that not even in its Latin form does the name occur, except in the "Promptorium Parvulorum," where it is "Tyme, herbe, _Tima_, _Timum_--Tyme, floure, _Timus_;" and in the "Catholicon Anglicum," when it is "Tyme; _timum epitimum; flos ejus est_." It is thus a puzzle how it can have got naturalized among us, for in Shakespeare's time it was completely naturalized.

I have already quoted Lord Bacon's account of it under BURNET, but I must quote it again here: "Those flowers which perfume the air most delightfully, not passed by as the rest, but being trodden upon and crushed, are three--that is Burnet, Wild Thyme, and Water mints; therefore you are to set whole alleys of them, to have the pleasure when you walk or tread;" and again in his pleasant description of the heath or wild garden, which he would have in every "prince-like garden," and "framed as much as may be to a natural wildness," he says, "I like also little heaps, in the nature of mole-hills (such as are in wild heaths) to be set some with Wild Thyme, some with Pinks, some with Germander." Yet the name may have been used sometimes as a general name for any wild, strong-scented plant. It can only be in this sense that Milton used it--

"Thee, shepherd! thee the woods and desert caves, With Wild Thyme and the gadding Vine o'ergrown, And all their echoes mourn."

_Lycidas._

for certainly a desert cave is almost the last place in which we should look for the true Wild Thyme.

It is as a bee-plant especially that the Thyme has always been celebrated. Spenser speaks of it as "the bees alluring Tyme," and Ovid says of it, speaking of Chloris or Flora--

"Mella meum munus; volucres ego mella daturos Ad violam et cytisos, et Thyma cana voco."

_Fasti_, v.

so that the Thyme became proverbial as the symbol of sweetness. It was the highest compliment that the shepherd could pay to his mistress--

"Nerine Galatea, Thymo mihi dulcior Hyblæ."

VIRGIL, _Ecl._ vii.

And it was because of its wild Thyme that Mount Hymettus became so celebrated for its honey--"Mella Thymi redolentia flore" (Ovid). "Thyme, for the time it lasteth, yeeldeth most and best honni, and therefore in old time was accounted chief (Thymus aptissimus ad mellificum--Pastus gratissimus apibus Thymum est--Plinii, 'His. Nat.')

'Dum thymo pascentur apes, dum rore cicadæ.'

VIRGIL, _Georg._

Hymettus in Greece and Hybla in Sicily were so famous for Bees and Honni, because there grew such store of Tyme; propter hoc Siculum mel fert palmam, quod ibi Thymum bonum et frequens est."--VARRO, _The Feminine Monarchie_, 1634.

The Wild Thyme can scarcely be considered a garden plant, except in its variegated and golden varieties, which are very handsome, but if it should ever come naturally in the turf, it should be welcomed and cherished for its sweet scent. The garden Thyme (_T. vulgaris_) must of course be in every herb garden; and there are a few species which make good plants for the rockwork, such as T. lanceolatus from Greece, a very low-growing shrub, with narrow, pointed leaves; T. carnosus, which makes a pretty little shrub, and others; while the Corsican Thyme (_Mentha Requieni_) is perhaps the lowest and closest-growing of all herbs, making a dark-green covering to the soil, and having a very strong scent, though more resembling Peppermint than Thyme.

TOADSTOOLS, _see_ MUSHROOMS.

TURNIPS.

_Anne._

Alas! I had rather be set quick i' the earth And boul'd to death with Turnips.

_Merry Wives of Windsor_, act iii, sc. 4 (89).

The Turnips of Shakespeare's time were like ours, and probably as good, though their cultivation seems to have been chiefly confined to gardens. It is not very certain whether the cultivated Turnip is the wild Turnip improved in England by cultivation, or whether we are indebted for it to the Romans, and that the wild one is only the degenerate form of the cultivated plant; for though the wild Turnip is admitted into the English flora, yet its right to the admission is very doubtful. But if we did not get the vegetable from the Romans we got its name. The old name for it was _noep_, _nep_, or _neps_, which was only the English form of the Latin _napus_, while Turnip is the corruption of _terræ napus_, but when the first syllable was added I do not know. There is a curious perversion in the name, for our Turnip is botanically Brassica rapa, while the Rape is Brassica napus, so that the English and Latin have changed places, the Napus becoming a Rape and the Rapa a Nep.

The present large field cultivation of Turnips is of comparatively a modern date, though the field Turnip and garden Turnip are only varieties of the same species, while there are also many varieties both of the field and garden Turnip. "One field proclaims the Scotch variety, while the bluer cast tells its hardy Swedish origin; the tankard proclaims a deep soil, and the lover of boiled mutton, rejoicing, sees the yellower tint of the Dutch or Stone Turnip, which he desires to meet with again in the market."--PHILLIPS.

It is not very easy to speak of the moral qualities of Turnips, or to make them the symbols of much virtue, yet Gwillim did so: "He beareth sable, a Turnip proper, a chief or gutte de Larmes. This is a wholesome root, and yieldeth great relief to the poor, and prospereth best in a hot sandy ground, and may signifie a person of good disposition, whose vertuous demeanour flourisheth most prosperously, even in that soil, where the searching heat of envy most aboundeth. This differeth much in nature from that whereof it is said, 'And that there should not be among you any root that bringeth forth gall and wormwood.'"--GWILLIM'S _Heraldry_, sec. iii. c. 11.

VETCHES.

_Iris._

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

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

The cultivated Vetch (_Vicia sativa_) is probably not a British plant, and it is not very certain to what country it rightly belongs; but it was very probably introduced into England by the Romans as an excellent and easily-grown fodder-plant. There are several Vetches that are true British plants, and they are among the most beautiful ornaments of our lanes and hedges. Two especially deserve to take a place in the garden for their beauty; but they require watching, or they will scramble into parts where their presence is not desirable; these are V. cracca and V. sylvatica. V. cracca has a very bright pure blue flower, and may be allowed to scramble over low bushes; V. sylvatica is a tall climber, and may be seen in copses and high hedges climbing to the tops of the Hazels and other tall bushes. It is one of the most graceful of our British plants, and perhaps quite the most graceful of our climbers; it bears an abundance of flowers, which are pure white streaked and spotted with pale blue; it is not a very common plant, but I have often seen it in Gloucestershire and Somersetshire, and wherever it is found it is generally in abundance.

The other name for the Vetch is Tares, which is, no doubt, an old English word that has never been satisfactorily explained. The word has an interest from its biblical associations, though modern scholars decide that the Zizania is wrongly translated Tares, and that it is rather a bastard Wheat or Darnel.

VINES.

(1) _Titania._

Feed him with Apricocks and Dewberries, With purple Grapes, green Figs, and Mulberries.

_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act iii, sc. 1 (169).

(2) _Menenius._

The tartness of his face sours ripe Grapes.

_Coriolanus_, act v, sc. 4 (18).

(3) _Song._

Come, thou monarch of the Vine, Plumpy Bacchus, with pink eyne! In thy fats our cares be drown'd, With thy Grapes our hairs be crown'd.

_Antony and Cleopatra_, act ii, sc. 7 (120).

(4) _Cleopatra._

Now no more The juice of Egypt's Grape shall moist this lip.

_Ibid._, act v, sc. 2 (284).

(5) _Timon._

Dry up thy Marrows, Vines, and plough-torn leas.

_Timon of Athens_, act iv, sc. 3 (193).

(6) _Timon._

Go, suck the subtle blood o' the Grape, Till the high fever seethe your blood to froth.

_Ibid._ (432).

(7) _Touchstone._

The heathen philosopher, when he had a desire to eat a Grape, would open his lips when he put it into his mouth; meaning thereby that Grapes were made to eat and lips to open.

_As You Like It_, act v, sc. 1 (36).

(8) _Iago._

Blessed Fig's end! the wine she drinks is made of Grapes.

_Othello_, act ii, sc 1 (250).

(9) _Lafeu._

O, will you eat no Grapes, my royal fox? Yes, but you will my noble Grapes, an if My royal fox could reach them.

_All's Well that Ends Well_, act ii, sc. 1 (73).

(10) _Lafeu._

There's one Grape yet.

_Ibid._, act ii, sc. 1 (105).

(11) _Pompey._

'Twas in "The Bunch of Grapes," where, indeed, you have a delight to sit.

_Measure for Measure_, act ii, sc. 1 (133).

(12) _Constable._

Let us quit all And give our Vineyards to a barbarous people.

_Henry V_, act iii, sc. 5 (3).

(13) _Burgundy._

Her Vine, the merry cheerer of the heart, Unpruned, dies. . . . . . . . . . Our Vineyards, fallows, meads, and hedges, Defective in their natures, grow to wildness.

_Ibid._, act v, sc. 2 (41, 54).

(14) _Mortimer._

And pithless arms, like to a wither'd Vine That droops his sapless branches to the ground.

_1st Henry VI_, act ii, sc. 5 (11).

(15) _Cranmer._

In her days every man shall eat in safety, Under his own Vine, what he plants; and sing The merry songs of peace to all his neighbours.

_Henry VIII_, act v, sc. 5 (34).

(16) _Cranmer._

Peace, plenty, love, truth, terror, That were the servants to this chosen infant, Shall then be his, and like a Vine grow to him.

_Ibid._ (48).

(17) _Lear._

Now, our joy, Although the last, not least; to whose young love The Vines of France and milk of Burgundy Strive to be interess'd.

_King Lear_, act i, sc. 1 (84).

(18) _Arviragus._

And let the stinking Elder, grief, untwine His perishing root with the increasing Vine!

_Cymbeline_, act iv, sc. 2 (59).

(19) _Adriana._

Thou art an Elm, my husband, I a Vine, Whose weakness married to thy stronger state Makes me with thy strength to communicate.

_Comedy of Errors_, act ii, sc. 2 (176).

(20) _Gonzalo._

Bound of land, tilth, Vineyard, none.

_Tempest_, act ii, sc. 1 (152).

(21) _Iris._

Thy pole-clipt Vineyard.

_Ibid._, act iv, sc. 1 (68).

(22) _Ceres._

Vines with clustering bunches growing, Plants with goodly burthen bowing.

_Ibid._ (112).

(23) _Richmond._

The usurping boar, That spoil'd your summer fields and fruitful Vines.

_Richard III_, act v, sc. 2 (7).

(24) _Isabella._

He hath a garden circummured with brick, Whose western side is with a Vineyard back'd; And to that Vineyard is a planched gate, That makes his opening with this bigger key: This other doth command a little door, Which from the Vineyard to the garden leads.

_Measure for Measure_, act iv, sc. 1 (28).

(25)

The Vine shall grow, but we shall never see it.

_Two Noble Kinsmen_, act ii, sc. 2 (47).

(26)

Even as poor birds, deceived with painted Grapes, Do forfeit by the eye and pine the maw.

_Venus and Adonis_ (601).

(27)

For one sweet Grape, who will the Vine destroy?

_Lucrece_ (215).

Besides these different references to the Grape Vine, some of its various products are mentioned, as Raisins, wine, aquavitæ or brandy, claret (the "thin potations" forsworn by Falstaff), sherris-sack or sherry, and malmsey. But none of these passages gives us much insight into the culture of the Vine in England, the whole history of which is curious and interesting.

The Vine is not even a native of Europe, but of the East, whence it was very early introduced into Europe; so early, indeed, that it has recently been found "fossil in a tufaceous deposit in the South of France."--DARWIN. It was no doubt brought into England by the Romans. Tacitus, describing England in the first century after Christ, says expressly that the Vine did not, and, as he evidently thought, could not grow there. "Solum, præter oleam vitemque et cætera calidioribus terris oriri sueta, patiens frugum, fæcundum." Yet Bede, writing in the eighth century, describes England as "opima frugibus atque arboribus insula, et alendis apta pecoribus et jumentis Vineas etiam quibusdam in locis germinans."[301:1]

From that time till the time of Shakespeare there is abundant proof not only of the growth of the Vine as we now grow it in gardens, but in large Vineyards. In Anglo-Saxon times "a Vineyard" is not unfrequently mentioned in various documents. "Edgar gives the Vineyard situated at Wecet, with the Vine-dressers."--TURNER'S _Anglo-Saxons_. "'Domesday Book' contained thirty-eight entries of valuable Vineyards; one in Essex consisted of six acres, and yielded twenty hogsheads of wine in a good year. There was another of the same extent at Ware."--H. EVERSHED, in _Gardener's Chronicle_. So in the Norman times, "Giraldus Cambrensis, speaking of the Castle of Manorbeer (his birthplace), near Pembroke, said that it had under its walls, besides a fishpond, a beautiful garden, enclosed on one side by a Vineyard and on the other by a wood, remarkable for the projection of its rocks and the height of its Hazel trees. In the twelfth century Vineyards were not uncommon in England."--WRIGHT. Neckam, writing in that century, refers to the usefulness of the Vine when trained against the wall-front: "Pampinus latitudine suâ excipit æris insultus, cum res ita desiderat, et fenestra clementiam caloris solaris admittat."--HUDSON TURNER.

In the time of Shakespeare I suppose that most of the Vines in England were grown in Vineyards of more or less extent, trained to poles. These formed the "pole-clipt Vineyards" of No. 21, and are thus described by Gerard: "The Vine is held up with poles and frames of wood, and by that means it spreadeth all about and climbeth aloft; it joyneth itselfe unto trees, or whatsoever standeth next unto it"--in other words, the Vine was then chiefly grown as a standard in the open ground.

There are numberless notices in the records and chronicles of extensive vineyards in England, which it is needless to quote; but it is worth noticing that the memory of these Vineyards remains not only in the chronicles and in the treatises which teach of Vine-culture, but also in the names of streets, &c., which are occasionally met with. There is "Vineyard Holm," in the Hampshire Downs, and many other places in Hampshire; the "Vineyard Hills," at Godalming; the "Vines," at Rochester and Sevenoaks; the "Vineyards," at Bath and Ludlow; the "Vine Fields," near the Abbey at Bury St. Edmunds;[302:1] the "Vineyard Walk" in Clerkenwell; and "near Basingstoke the 'Vine' or 'Vine House,' in a richly wooded spot, where, as is said, the Romans grew the first Vine in Britain, the memory of which now only survives in the Vine Hounds;"[303:1] and probably a closer search among the names of fields in other parts would bring to light many similar instances.[303:2]

Among the English Vineyards those of Gloucestershire stood pre-eminent. William of Malmesbury, writing of Gloucestershire in the twelfth century, says: "This county is planted thicker with Vineyards than any other in England, more plentiful in crops, and more pleasant in flavour. For the wines do not offend the mouth with sharpness, since they do not yield to the French in sweetness" ("De Gestis Pontif.,"