Chapter XI: Part I: The Plant-Lore of Shakespeare (8)

Here's the challenge, read it; I warrant there's vinegar and
Pepper in't.

_Twelfth Night_, act iii, sc. 4 (157).

Pepper is the seed of Piper nigrum, "whose drupes form the black Pepper of the shops when dried with the skin upon them, and white Pepper when that flesh is removed by washing."--LINDLEY. It is, like all the pepperworts, a native of the Tropics, but was well known both to the Greeks and Romans. By the Greeks it was probably not much used, but in Rome it seems to have been very common, if we may judge by Horace's lines--

"Deferar in vicum, vendentem thus et odores,
Et piper, et quidquid chartis amicitur ineptis."

_Epistolæ_ ii, 1-270.

And in another place he mentions "Pipere albo" as an ingredient in cooking. Juvenal mentions it as an article of commerce, "piperis coemti" (Sat. xiv. 293). Persius speaks of it in more than one passage, and Pliny describes it so minutely that he evidently not only knew the imported spice, but also had seen the living plant. By the Romans it was probably introduced into England, being frequently met with in the Anglo-Saxon Leech-books. It is mentioned by Chaucer--

"And in an erthen pot how put is al,
And salt y-put in and also Paupere."

_Prologue of the Chanoune's Yeman._

It was apparently, like Ginger, a very common condiment in Shakespeare's time, and its early introduction into England as an article of commerce is shown by passages in our old law writers, who speak of the reservation of rent, not only in money, but in "pepper, cummim, and wheat;" whence arose the familiar reservation of a single peppercorn as a rent so nominal as to have no appreciable pecuniary value.[204:1]

The red or Cayenne Pepper is made from the ground seeds of the Capsicum, but I do not find that it was used to known in the sixteenth century.

FOOTNOTES:

[204:1] Littleton does not mention Pepper when speaking of rents reserved otherwise than in money, but specifies as instances, "un chival, ou un esperon dor, ou un clovegylofer"--a horse, a golden spur, or a clove gilliflower.

PIG-NUTS.

_Caliban._

I prythee let me bring thee where Crabs grow;
And I with my long nails will dig thee Pig-nuts.

_Tempest_, act ii, sc. 2 (171).

Pig-nuts or Earth-nuts are the tuberous roots of Conopodium denudatum (_Bunium flexuosum_), a common weed in old upland pastures; it is found also in woods. This root is really of a pleasant flavour when first eaten, but leaves an unpleasant taste in the mouth. It is said to be much improved by roasting, and to be then quite equal to Chestnuts. Yet it is not much prized in England except by pigs and children, who do not mind the trouble of digging for it. But the root lies deep, and the stalk above it is very brittle, and "when the little 'howker' breaks the white shank he at once desists from his attempt to reach the root, for he believes that it will elude his search by sinking deeper and deeper into the ground" (Johnston). I have never heard of its being cultivated in England, but it is cultivated in some European countries, and much prized as a wholesome and palatable root.

PINE.

(1) _Prospero._

She did confine thee,

* * * * *

Into a cloven Pine;

* * * * *

It was mine art,
When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape
The Pine and let thee out.

_Tempest_, act i, sc. 2 (273).

(2) _Suffolk._

Thus droops this lofty Pine and hangs his sprays.

_2nd Henry VI_, act ii, sc. 3 (45).

(3) _Prospero._

And by the spurs plucked up
The Pine and Cedar.

_Tempest_, act v, sc. 1 (47).

(4) _Agamemnon._

As knots, by the conflux of meeting sap,
Infect the sound Pine and divert his grain
Tortive and errant from his course of growth.

_Troilus and Cressida_, act i, sc. 3 (7).

(5) _Antony._

Where yonder Pine does stand
I shall discover all.

* * * * *

This Pine is bark'd
That overtopped them all.

_Antony and Cleopatra_, act iv, sc. 12 (23).

(6) _Belarius._

As the rudest wind
That by the top doth take the mountain Pine,
And make him stoop to the vale.

_Cymbeline_, act iv, sc. 2 (174).

(7) _1st Lord._

Behind the tuft of Pines I met them.

_Winter's Tale_, act ii, sc. 1 (33).

(8) _Richard._

But when from under this terrestrial ball
He fires the proud top of the eastern Pines.

_Richard II_, act iii, sc. 2 (41).

(9) _Antonio._

You may as well forbid the mountain Pines
To wag their high tops and to make no noise,
When they are fretten with the gusts of heaven.

_Merchant of Venice_, act iv, sc. 1 (75).

(10)

Ay me! the bark peel'd from the lofty Pine,
His leaves will wither, and his sap decay;
So must my soul, her bark being peel'd away.

_Lucrece_ (1167).

In No. 8 is one of those delicate touches which show Shakespeare's keen observation of nature, in the effect of the rising sun upon a group of Pine trees. Mr. Ruskin says that with the one exception of Wordsworth no other English poet has noticed this. Wordsworth's lines occur in one of his minor poems on leaving Italy--

"My thoughts become bright like yon edging of Pines
On the steep's lofty verge--how it blackened the air!
But touched from behind by the sun, it now shines
With threads that seem part of its own silver hair."

While Mr. Ruskin's account of it is this: "When the sun rises behind a ridge of Pines, and those Pines are seen from a distance of a mile or two against his light, the whole form of the tree, trunk, branches and all, becomes one frost-work of intensely brilliant silver, which is relieved against the clear sky like a burning fringe, for some distance on either side of the sun."--_Stones of Venice_, i. 240.

The Pine is the established emblem of everything that is "high and lifted up," but always with a suggestion of dreariness and solitude. So it is used by Shakespeare and by Milton, who always associated the Pine with mountains; and so it has always been used by the poets, even down to our own day. Thus Tennyson--

"They came, they cut away my tallest Pines--
My dark tall Pines, that plumed the craggy ledge--
High o'er the blue gorge, and all between
The snowy peak and snow-white cataract
Fostered the callow eaglet; from beneath
Whose thick mysterious boughs in the dark morn
The panther's roar came muffled while I sat
Down in the valley."

_Complaint of Ænone._

Sir Walter Scott similarly describes the tree in the pretty and well-known lines--

"Aloft the Ash and warrior Oak
Cast anchor in the rifted rock;
And higher yet the Pine tree hung
His shattered trunk, and frequent flung,
Where seemed the cliffs to meet on high,
His boughs athwart the narrow sky."

Yet the Pine which was best known to Shakespeare, and perhaps the only Pine he knew, was the Pinus sylvestris, or Scotch fir, and this, though flourishing on the highest hills where nothing else will flourish, certainly attains its fullest beauty in sheltered lowland districts. There are probably much finer Scotch firs in Devonshire than can be found in Scotland. This is the only indigenous Fir, though the Pinus pinaster claims to be a native of Ireland, some cones having been supposed to be found in the bogs, but the claim is not generally allowed (there is no proof of the discovery of the cones); and yet it has become so completely naturalized on the coast of Dorsetshire, especially about Bournemouth, that it has been admitted into the last edition of Sowerby's "English Botany."

But though the Scotch Fir is a true native, and was probably much more abundant in England formerly than it is now, the tree has no genuine English name, and apparently never had. Pine comes directly and without change from the Latin, _Pinus_, as one of the chief products, pitch, comes directly from the Latin, _pix_. In the early vocabularies it is called "Pin-treow," and the cones are "Pin-nuttes." They were also called "Pine apples," and the tree was called the Pine-Apple Tree.[208:1] This name was transferred to the rich West Indian fruit[208:2] from its similarity to a fir-cone, and so was lost to the fruit of the fir-tree, which had to borrow a new name from the Greek; but it was still in use in Shakespeare's day--

"Sweete smelling Firre that frankensence provokes,
And Pine Apples from whence sweet juyce doth come."

CHESTER'S _Love's Martyr_.

And Gerard describing the fruit of the Pine Tree, says: "This Apple is called in . . . Low Dutch, Pyn Appel, and in English, Pine-apple, clog, and cones." We also find "Fyre-tree," which is a true English word meaning the "fire-tree;" but I believe that "Fir" was originally confined to the timber, from its large use for torches, and was not till later years applied to the living tree.

The sweetness of the Pine seeds, joined to the difficulty of extracting them, and the length of time necessary for their ripening, did not escape the notice of the emblem-writers of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. With them it was the favourite emblem of the happy results of persevering labour. Camerarius, a contemporary of Shakespeare and a great botanist, gives a pretty plate of a man holding a Fir-cone, with this moral: "Sic ad virtutem et honestatem et laudabiles actiones non nisi per labores ac varias difficultates perveniri potest, at postea sequuntur suavissimi fructus." He acknowledges his obligation for this moral to the proverb of Plautus: "Qui e nuce nucleum esse vult, frangat nucem" ("Symbolorum," &c., 1590).

In Shakespeare's time a few of the European Conifers were grown in England, including the Larch, but only as curiosities. The very large number of species which now ornament our gardens and Pineta from America and Japan were quite unknown. The many uses of the Pine--for its timber, production of pitch, tar, resin, and turpentine--were well known and valued. Shakespeare mentions both pitch and tar.

FOOTNOTES:

[208:1] For many examples see "Catholicon Anglicum," s.v. Pyne-Tree, with note.

[208:2] The West Indian Pine Apple is described by Gerard as "Ananas, the Pinea, or Pine Thistle."

PINKS.

(1) _Romeo._

A most courteous exposition.

_Mercutio._

Nay, I am the very Pink of courtesy.

_Romeo._

Pink for flower.

_Mercutio._

Right.

_Romeo._

Why, then is my pump well flowered.

_Romeo and Juliet_, act ii, sc. 4 (60).

(2) _Maiden._

Pinks of odour faint.

_Two Noble Kinsmen_, Introd. song.

To these may perhaps be added the following, from the second verse sung by Mariana in "Measure for Measure," act iv, sc. 1 (337)--

Hide, oh hide, those hills of snow
Which thy frozen bosom bears!
On whose tops the Pinks that grow
Are of those that April wears.

The authority is doubtful, but it is attributed to Shakespeare in some editions of his poems.

The Pink or Pincke was, as now, the name of the smaller sorts of Carnations, and was generally applied to the single sorts. It must have been a very favourite flower, as we may gather from the phrase "Pink of courtesy," which means courtesy carried to its highest point; and from Spenser's pretty comparison--

"Her lovely eyes like Pincks but newly spred."

_Amoretti_, Sonnet 64.

The name has a curious history. It is not, as most of us would suppose, derived from the colour, but the colour gets its name from the plant. The name (according to Dr. Prior) comes through _Pinksten_ (German), from Pentecost, and so was originally applied to one species--the Whitsuntide Gilliflower. From this it was applied to other species of the same family. It is certainly "a curious accident," as Dr. Prior observes, "that a word that originally meant 'fiftieth' should come to be successively the name of a festival of the Church, of a flower, of an ornament in muslin called _pinking_, of a colour, and of a sword stab." Shakespeare uses the word in three of its senses. First, as applied to a colour--

Come, thou monarch of the Vine,
Plumpy Bacchus with Pink eyne.

_Antony and Cleopatra_, act ii, sc. 7.[210:1]

Second, as applied to an ornament of dress in Romeo's person--

Then is my pump well flowered;

_Romeo and Juliet_, act ii, sc. 4.

_i.e._, well pinked. And in Grumio's excuses to Petruchio for the non-attendance of the servants--

Nathaniel's coat, Sir, was not fully made,
And Gabriel's pumps were all unpinked
I' the heel.

_Taming of the Shrew_, act iv, sc. 1.

And thirdly, as the pinked ornament in muslin--

There's a haberdasher's wife of small wit near him, that
railed upon me till her Pink'd porringer fell off her head.

_Henry VIII_, act v, sc. 3.

And as applied to the flower in the passage quoted above. He also uses it in another sense--

This Pink is one of Cupid's carriers;
Clap on more sail--pursue!

_Merry Wives of Windsor_, act ii, sc. 7.

where pink means a small country vessel often mentioned under that name by writers of the sixteenth century.

FOOTNOTES:

[210:1] It is very probable that this does not refer to the colour--"Pink = winking, half-shut."--SCHMIDT. And see Nares, s.v. Pinke eyne.

PIONY.

_Iris._

Thy banks with Pioned and twilled brims,
Which spongy April at thy best betrims,
To make cold nymphs chaste crowns.

_Tempest_, act iv, sc. 1 (65).

There is much dispute about this passage, the dispute turning on the question whether "Pioned" has reference to the Peony flower or not. The word by some is supposed to mean only "digged," and it doubtless often had this meaning,[211:1] though the word is now obsolete, and only survives with us in "pioneer," which, in Shakespeare's time, meant "digger" only, and not as now, "one who goes before to prepare the way"--thus Hamlet--

Well said, old mole! cans't work i' the earth so fast?
A worthy pioner?

_Hamlet_, act i, sc. 5 (161).

and again--

There might you see the labouring pioner
Begrim'd with sweat, and smeared all with dust.

_Lucrece_ (1380).

But this reading seems very tame, tame in itself, and doubly tame when taken in connection with the context, and "Certainly savours more of the commentators' prose than of Shakespeare's poetry" ("Edinburgh Review," 1872, p. 363). I shall assume, therefore, that the flower is meant, spelt in the form of "Piony," instead of Peony or Pæony.[211:2]

The Pæony (_P. corallina_) is sometimes allowed a place in the British flora, having been found apparently wild at the Steep Holmes in the Bristol Channel and a few other places, but it is now considered certain that in all these places it is a garden escape. Gerard gave one such habitat: "The male Peionie groweth wilde upon a Coneyberry in Betsome, being in the parish of Southfleet, in Kent, two miles from Gravesend, and in the ground sometimes belonging to a farmer there, called John Bradley;" but on this his editor adds the damaging note: "I have been told that our author himselfe planted that Peionee there, and afterwards seemed to find it there by accident; and I do believe it was so, because none before or since have ever seen or heard of it growing wild since in any part of this kingdome."

But though not a native plant, it had been cultivated in England long before Shakespeare's and Gerard's time. It occurs in most of the old vocabularies from the tenth century downwards, and in Shakespeare's time the English gardens had most of the European species that are now grown, including also the handsome double-red and white varieties. Since his time the number of species and varieties has been largely increased by the addition of the Chinese and Japanese species, and by the labours of the French nurserymen, who have paid more attention to the flower than the English.

In the hardy flower garden there is no more showy family than the Pæony. They have flowers of many colours, from almost pure white and pale yellow to the richest crimson; and they vary very much in their foliage, most of them having large fleshy leaves, "not much unlike the leaves of the Walnut tree," but some of them having their leaves finely cut and divided almost like the leaves of Fennel (_P. tenuifolia_). They further vary in that some are herbaceous, disappearing entirely in winter, while others, Moutan or Tree Pæonies, are shrubs; and in favourable seasons, when the shrub is not injured by spring frosts, there is no grander shrub than an old Tree Pæony in full flower.

Of the many different species the best are the Moutans, which, according to Chinese tradition, have been grown in China for 1500 years, and which are now produced in great variety of colour; P. corallina, for the beauty of its coral-like seeds; P. Cretica, for its earliness in flowering; P. tenuifolia, single and double, for its elegant foliage; P. Whitmaniana, for its pale yellow but very fleeting flowers, which, before they are fully expanded, have all the appearance of immense Globe-flowers (_trollius_); P. lobata, for the wonderful richness of its bright crimson flowers; and P. Whitleji, a very old and very double form of P. edulis, of great size, and most delicate pink and white colour.

FOOTNOTES:

[211:1]

"Which to outbarre, with painful pyonings,
From sea to sea, he heapt a mighty mound!"

SPENSER, _F. Q._, ii, 10, 46.

[211:2] The name was variously spelt, _e.g._--

"And other trees there was mane one
The Pyany, the Poplar, and the Plane."

_The Squyr of Lowe Degre_, 39.

"The pretie Pinke and purple Pianet."

CUTWODE, _Caltha Poetarum_, 1599, st. 24.

"A Pyon (Pyion A.) dionia, herba est."--_Catholicon Anglicum._

PIPPIN, _see_ APPLE.

PLANE.

_Daughter._

I have sent him where a Cedar,
Higher than all the rest, spreads like a Plane
Fast by a brook.

_Two Noble Kinsmen_, act ii, sc. 6 (4).

There is no certain record how long the Plane has been introduced into England; it is certainly not a native tree, nor even an European tree, but came from the East, and was largely planted and much admired both by the Greeks and Romans. We know from Pliny that it was growing in France in his day on the part opposite Britain, and the name occurs in the old vocabularies. But from Turner's evidence in 1548 it must have been a very scarce tree in the sixteenth century. He says: "I never saw any Plaine tree in Englande, saving once in Northumberlande besyde Morpeth, and an other at Barnwell Abbey besyde Cambryge." And more than a hundred years later Evelyn records a special visit to Lee to inspect one as a great curiosity. The Plane is not only a very handsome tree, and a fast grower, but from the fact that it yearly sheds its bark it has become one of the most useful trees for growing in towns. The wood is of very little value. To the emblem writers the Plane was an example of something good to the eye, but of no real use. Camerarius so moralizes it (Pl. xix.), and, quoting Virgil's "steriles platanos," he says of it, "umbram non fructum platanus dat."

PLANTAIN.

(1) _Costard._

O sir, Plantain, a plain Plantain! no l'envoy, no l'envoy; no
salve, sir, but a Plantain.

* * * * *

_Moth._

By saying that a costard was broken in a shin.
Then call'd you for the l'envoy.

_Costard._

True! and I for a Plantain.

_Loves Labour's Lost_, act iii, sc. 1 (76).

(2) _Romeo._

Your Plantain leaf is excellent for that.

_Benvolio._

For what, I pray thee?

_Romeo._

For your broken shin.

_Romeo and Juliet_, act i, sc. 2 (52).

(3) _Troilus._

As true as steel, as Plantage to the moon.

_Troilus and Cressida_, act iii, sc. 2 (184).

(4) _Palamon._

These poore slight sores
Neede not a Plantin.

_Two Noble Kinsmen_, act i, sc. 2 (65).

The most common old names for the Plantain were Waybroad (corrupted to Weybread, Wayborn, and Wayforn) and Ribwort. It was also called Lamb's-tongue and Kemps, while the flower spike with the stalk was called Cocks and Cockfighters (still so called by children).[214:1] The old name of Ribwort was derived from the ribbed leaves, while Waybroad marked its universal appearance, scattered by all roadsides and pathways, and literally bred by the wayside. It has a similar name in German, Wegetritt, that is Waytread; and on this account the Swedes name the plant Wagbredblad, and the Indians of North America Whiteman's Foot, for it springs up near every new settlement, having sprung up after the English settlers, not only in America, but also in Australia and New Zealand--

"Whereso'er they move, before them
Swarms the stinging fly, the Ahmo,
Swarms the bee, the honey-maker:
Wheresoe'er they tread, beneath them
Springs a flower unknown among us,
Springs the 'White man's foot' in blossom."

LONGFELLOW'S _Hiawatha_.

And "so it is a mistake to say that Plantain is derived from the likeness of the plant to the sole of the foot, as in Richardson's Dictionary. Rather say, because the herb grows under the sole of the foot."--JOHNSTON. How, or when, or why the plant lost its old English names to take the Latin name of Plantain, it is hard to say. It occurs in a vocabulary of the names of plants of the middle of the thirteenth century--"Plantago, Planteine, Weibrode," and apparently came to us from the French, "Cy est assets de Planteyne, Weybrede."--WALTER DE BIBLESWORTH (13th cent.) But with the exception of Chaucer[215:1] I believe Shakespeare is almost the only early writer that uses the name, though it is very certain that he did not invent it; but "Plantage" (No 3), which is doubtless the same plant, is peculiar to him.[215:2]

It was as a medical herb that our forefathers chiefly valued the Plantain, and for medical purposes its reputation was of the very highest. In a book of recipes (Lacnunga) of the eleventh century, by Ælfric, is an address to the Waybroad, which is worth extracting at length--

"And thou, Waybroad!
Mother of worts,
Open from eastward,
Mighty within;
Over thee carts creaked,
Over thee Queens rode,
Over thee brides bridalled,
Over thee bulls breathed,
All these thou withstood'st
Venom and vile things
And all the loathly ones
That through the land rove."

COCKAYNE'S _Translation_.

In another earlier recipe book the Waybroad is prescribed for twenty-two diseases, one after another; and in another of the same date we are taught how to apply it: "If a man ache in half his head . . . delve up Waybroad without iron ere the rising of the sun, bind the roots about the head with Crosswort by a red fillet, soon he will be well." But the Plantain did not long sustain its high reputation, which even in Shakespeare's time had become much diminished. "I find," says Gerard, "in ancient writers many good-morrowes, which I think not meet to bring into your memorie againe; as that three roots will cure one griefe, four another disease, six hanged about the neck are good for another maladie, &c., all which are but ridiculous toys." Yet the bruised leaves still have some reputation as a styptic and healing plaster among country herbalists, and perhaps the alleged virtues are not altogether fanciful.

As a garden plant the Plantain can only be regarded as a weed and nuisance, especially on lawns, where it is very difficult to destroy them. Yet there are some curious varieties which may claim a corner where botanical curiosities are grown. The Plantain seems to have a peculiar tendency to run into abnormal forms, many of which will be found described and figured in Dr. Masters' "Vegetable Teratology," and among these forms are two which are exactly like a double green Rose, and have been cultivated as the Rose Plantain for many years. They were grown by Gerard, who speaks of "the beauty which is in the plant," and compared it to "a fine double Rose of a hoary or rusty greene colour." Parkinson also grew it and valued it highly.

FOOTNOTES:

[214:1] Of these names Plantain properly belongs to Plantago major; Lamb's-tongue to P. media; and Kemps, Cocks, and Ribwort to P. lanceolata.

[215:1]

"His forehead dropped as a stillatorie
Were ful of Plantayn and peritorie."

_Prologue of the Chanoune's Yeman._

[215:2] Nares, and Schmidt from him, consider Plantage = anything planted.

PLUMS, WITH DAMSONS AND PRUNES.

(1) _Constance._

Give grandam kingdom, and it grandam will
Give it a Plum, a Cherry, and a Fig.

_King John_, act ii, sc. 1 (161).

(2) _Hamlet._

The satirical rogue says here that old men have grey beards,
that their faces are wrinkled, their eyes purging thick
amber and Plum-tree gum.

_Hamlet_, act ii, sc. 2 (198).

(3) _Simpcox._

A fall off a tree.

_Wife._

A Plum-tree, master.

* * * * *

_Gloucester._

Mass, thou lovedst Plums well that wouldst venture so.

_Simpcox._

Alas! good master, my wife desired some Damsons,
And made me climb with danger of my life.

_2nd Henry VI_, act ii, sc. 1 (196).

(4) _Evans._

I will dance and eat Plums at your wedding.

_Merry Wives of Windsor_, act v, sc. 5.[217:1]

(5)

The mellow Plum doth fall, the green sticks fast,
Or, being early pluck'd, is sour to taste.

_Venus and Adonis_ (527).

(6)

Like a green Plum that hangs upon a tree,
And falls, through wind, before the fall should be.

_Passionate Pilgrim_ (135).

(7) _Slender._

Three veneys for a dish of stewed Prunes.

_Merry Wives of Windsor_, act i, sc. 1 (295).

(8) _Falstaff._

There's no more faith in thee than in a stewed Prune.

_1st Henry IV_, act iii, sc. 3 (127).

(9) _Pompey._

Longing (saving your honour's presence) for stewed Prunes.

* * * * *

And longing, as I said, for Prunes.

* * * * *

You being then, if you he remembered, cracking the stones of
the foresaid Prunes.

_Measure for Measure_, act ii, sc. 1 (92).

(10) _Clown._

Four pounds of Prunes, and as many of Raisins of the sun.

_Winters Tale_, act iv, sc. 3 (51).

(11) _Falstaff._

Hang him, rogue; he lives upon mouldy stewed Prunes and dried
cakes.

_2nd Henry IV_, act ii, sc. 4 (158).

Plums, Damsons, and Prunes may conveniently be joined together, Plums and Damsons being often used synonymously (as in No. 3), and Prunes being the dried Plums. The Damsons were originally, no doubt, a good variety from the East, and nominally from Damascus.[217:2] They seem to have been considered great delicacies, as in a curious allegorical drama of the fifteenth century, called "La Nef de Sante," of which an account is given by Mr. Wright: "Bonne-Compagnie, to begin the day, orders a collation, at which, among other things, are served Damsons (_Prunes de Damas_), which appear at this time to have been considered as delicacies. There is here a marginal direction to the purport that if the morality should be performed in the season when real Damsons could not be had, the performers must have some made of wax to look like real ones" ("History of Domestic Manners," &c.).

The garden Plums are a good cultivated variety of our own wild Sloe, but a variety that did not originate in England, and may very probably have been introduced by the Romans. The Sloe and Bullace are, speaking botanically, two sub-species of Prunus communis, while the Plum is a third sub-species (P. communis domestica). The garden Plum is occasionally found wild in England, but is certainly not indigenous. It is somewhat strange that our wild plant is not mentioned by Shakespeare under any of its well-known names of Sloe, Bullace, and Blackthorn. Not only is it a shrub of very marked appearance in our hedgerows in early spring, when it is covered with its pure white blossoms, but Blackthorn staves were indispensable in the rough game of quarterstaff, and the Sloe gave point to more than one English proverb: "as black as a Sloe," was a very common comparison, and "as useless as a Sloe," or "not worth a Sloe," was as common.

"Sir Amys answered, 'Tho'
I give thee thereof not one Sloe!
Do right all that thou may!"

_Amys and Amylion_--ELLIS'S _Romances_.

"The offecial seyde, Thys ys nowth
Be God, that me der bowthe,
Het ys not worthe a Sclo."

_The Frere and His Boy_--RITSON'S _Ancient Popular Poetry_.

Though even as a fruit the Sloe had its value, and was not altogether despised by our ancestors, for thus Tusser advises--

"By thend of October go gather up Sloes,
Have thou in readines plentie of thoes,
And keepe them in bed-straw, or still on the bow,
To staie both the flix of thyselfe and thy cow."

As soon as the garden Plum was introduced, great attention seems to have been paid to it, and the gardeners of Shakespeare's time could probably show as good Plums as we can now. "To write of Plums particularly," said Gerard, "would require a peculiar volume. . . . Every clymate hath his owne fruite, far different from that of other countries; my selfe have threescore sorts in my garden, and all strange and rare; there be in other places many more common, and yet yearly commeth to our hands others not before knowne."

FOOTNOTES:

[217:1] Omitted in the Globe edition.

[217:2] Bullein, in his "Government of Health," 1588, calls them "Damaske Prunes."

POMEGRANATE.

(1) _Lafeu._

Go to, sir, you were beaten in Italy for picking a kernel out
of a Pomegranate.

_All's Well that Ends Well_, act ii, sc. 3 (275).

(2) _Juliet._

It was the nightingale and not the lark,
That pierced the fearful hollow of thine ear;
Nightly she sings on yon Pomegranate tree.[219:1]

_Romeo and Juliet_, act iii, sc. 5 (2).

(3) _Francis._

Anon, anon, sir, Look down into the Pomegarnet, Ralph.

_1st Henry IV_, act ii, sc. 4 (41).

There are few trees that surpass the Pomegranate in interest and beauty combined. "Whoever has seen the Pomegranate in a favourable soil and climate, whether as a single shrub or grouped many together, has seen one of the most beautiful of green trees; its spiry shape and thick-tufted foliage of vigorous green, each growing shoot shaded into tenderer verdure and bordered with crimson and adorned with the loveliest flowers; filmy petals of scarlet lustre are put forth from the solid crimson cup, and the ripe fruit of richest hue and most admirable shape."--LADY CALCOTT'S _Scripture Herbal_. A simpler but more valued testimony to the beauty of the Pomegranate is borne in its selection for the choicest ornaments on the ark of the Tabernacle, on the priest's vestments, and on the rich capitals of the pillars in the Temple of Solomon.

The native home of the Pomegranate is not very certainly known, but the evidence chiefly points to the North of Africa. It was very early cultivated in Egypt, and was one of the Egyptian delicacies so fondly remembered by the Israelites in their desert wanderings, and is frequently met with in Egyptian sculpture. It was abundant in Palestine, and is often mentioned in the Bible, and always as an object of beauty and desire. It was highly appreciated by the Greeks and Romans, but it was probably not introduced into Italy in very early times, as Pliny is the first author that certainly mentions it, though some critics have supposed that the _aurea mala_ and _aurea poma_ of Virgil and Ovid were Pomegranates. From Italy the tree soon spread into other parts of Europe, taking with it its Roman name of _Punica malus_ or _Pomum granatum_. _Punica_ showed the country from which the Romans derived it, while _granatum_ (full of grains) marked the special characteristic of the fruit that distinguished it from all other so-called Apples. Gerard says: "Pomegranates grow in hot countries, towards the south in Italy, Spaine, and chiefly in the kingdom of Granada, which is thought to be so named of the great multitude of Pomegranates, which be commonly called _Granata_."[220:1] This derivation is very doubtful, but was commonly accepted in Gerard's day.[220:2] The Pomegranate lives and flowers well in England, but when it was first introduced is not recorded. I do not find it in the old vocabularies, but a prominent place is given to it in "that Gardeyn, wele wrought," "the garden that so lyked me;"--

"There were, and that I wote fulle well,
Of Pomgarnettys a fulle gret delle,
That is a fruit fulle welle to lyke,
Namely to folk whaune they ben sike."

_Romaunt of the Rose._

Turner describes it in 1548: "Pomegranat trees growe plentuously in Italy and in Spayne, and there are certayne in my Lorde's gardene at Syon, but their fruite cometh never with perfection."[221:1]

Gerard had it in 1596, but from his description it seems that it was a recent acquisition. "I have recovered," he says, "divers young trees hereof, by sowing of the seed or grains of the height of three or four cubits, attending God's leisure for floures and fruit." Three years later, in 1599, it is noticed for its flowers in Buttes's "Dyet's Dry Dinner" (as quoted by Brand), where it is asserted that "if one eate three small Pomegranate flowers (they say) for a whole yeare he shall be safe from all manner of eyesore;" and Gerard speaks of the "wine which is pressed forth of the Pomegranate berries named Rhoitas or wine of Pomegranates," but this may have been imported. But, when introduced, it at once took kindly to its new home, so that Parkinson was able to describe its flowers and fruits from personal observation. In all the southern parts of England it grows very well, and is one of the very best trees we have to cover a south wall; it also grows well in towns, as may be seen at Bath, where a great many very fine specimens have been planted in the areas in front of the houses, and have grown to a considerable height. When thus planted and properly pruned, the tree will bear its beautiful flowers from May all through the summer; but generally the tree is so pruned that it cannot flower. It should be pruned like a Banksian Rose, and other plants that bear their flowers on last year's shoots, _i.e._, simply thinned, but not cut back or spurred. With this treatment the branches may be allowed to grow in their natural way without being nailed in, and if the single-blossomed species be grown, the flowers in good summers will bear fruit. In 1876 I counted on a tree in Bath more than sixty fruit; the fruits will perhaps seldom be worth eating, but they are curious and handsome. The sorts usually grown are the pure scarlet (double and single), and a very double variety with the flowers somewhat variegated. These are the most desirable, but there are a few other species and varieties, including a very beautiful dwarf one from the East Indies that is too tender for our climate out-of-doors, but is largely grown on the Continent as a window plant.

FOOTNOTES:

[219:1] In illustration of Juliet's speech Mr. Knight very aptly quotes a similar remark from Russell's "History of Aleppo," adding that a "friend whose observations as a traveller are as accurate as his descriptions are graphic and forcible, informs us that throughout his journeys in the East he never heard such a choir of nightingales as in a row of Pomegranate trees that skirt the road from Smyrna to Bondjia."

[220:1] In a Bill of Medicines furnished for the use of Edward I. 1306-7, is--

"Item pro malis granatis vi. lx s.
Item pro vino malorum granatorun xx lb., lx s."

_Archæological Journal_, xiv, 27.

[220:2] See Prescott's "Ferdinand and Isabella," vol. iii. p. 346, note (Ed. 1849)--the arms of the city are a split Pomegranate.

[221:1] "Names of Herbes," s.v. Malus Punica.

POMEWATER, _see_ APPLE.

POPERING, _see_ PEAR.

POPPY.

_Iago._

Not Poppy or Mandragora,
Nor all the drowsy syrups of the world,
Shall ever medicine thee to that sweet sleep
Which thou ownedst yesterday.

_Othello_, act iii, sc. 3 (330).

The Poppy had of old a few other names, such as Corn-rose and Cheese-bowls (a very old name for the flower), and being "of great beautie, although of evil smell, our gentlewomen doe call it Jone Silverpin." This name is difficult of explanation, even with Parkinson's help, who says it meanes "faire without and foule within," but it probably alludes to its gaudy colour and worthlessness. But these names are scarcely the common names of the plant, but rather nicknames; the usual name is, and always has been, Poppy, which is an easily traced corruption from the Latin _papaver_, the Saxon and Early English names being variously spelt, _popig_ and _papig_, _popi_ and _papy_; so that the Poppy is another instance of a very common and conspicuous English plant known only or chiefly by its Latin name Anglicised.

Our common English Poppy, "being of a beautiful and gallant red colour," is certainly one of the handsomest of our wild flowers, and a Wheat field with a rich undergrowth of scarlet Poppies is a sight very dear to the artist,[223:1] while the weed is not supposed to do much harm to the farmer. But this is not the Poppy mentioned by Iago, for its narcotic qualities are very small; the Poppy that he alludes to is the Opium Poppy (_P. somniferum_). This Poppy was well known and cultivated in England long before Shakespeare's day, but only as a garden ornament; the Opium was then, as now, imported from the East. Its deadly qualities were well known. Gower describes it--

"There is growend upon the ground
Popy that bereth the sede of slepe."

_Conf. Aman._, lib. quint. (2, 102 Paulli).

Spenser speaks of the plant as the "dull Poppy," and describing the Garden of Proserpina, he says--

"There mournful Cypress grew in greatest store,
And trees of bitter gall, and Heben sad,
Dead-sleeping Poppy, and black Hellebore,
Cold Coloquintida."

_F. Q._, ii, 7, 52.

And Drayton similarly describes it--

"Here Henbane, Poppy, Hemlock here,
Procuring deadly sleeping."

_Nymphal_ v.

The name of opium does not seem to have been in general use, except among the apothecaries. Chaucer, however, uses it--

"A claire made of a certayn wyn,
With necotykes, and opye of Thebes fyn."

_The Knightes Tale._

And so does Milton--

"Which no cooling herb
Or medicinal liquor can asswage,
Nor breath of vernal air from Snowy Alp;
Sleep hath forsook and given me o'er
To death's benumming opium as my only cure."

_Samson Agonistes._

Many of the Poppies are very ornamental garden plants. The pretty yellow Welsh Poppy (_Meconopsis Cambrica_), abundant at Cheddar Cliffs, is an excellent plant for the rockwork where, when once established, it will grow freely and sow itself; and for the same place the little Papaver Alpinum, with its varieties, is equally well suited. For the open border the larger Poppies are very suitable, especially the great Oriental Poppy (_P. orientale_) and the grand scarlet Siberian Poppy (_P. bracteatum_), perhaps the most gorgeous of hardy plants: while among the rarer species of the tribe we must reckon the Meconopses of the Himalayas (_M. Wallichi_ and _M. Nepalensis_), plants of singular beauty and elegance, but very difficult to grow, and still more difficult to keep, even if once established; for though perfectly hardy, they are little more than biennials. Besides these Poppies, the large double garden Poppies are very showy and of great variety in colour, but they are only annuals.

FOOTNOTES:

[223:1] "We usually think of the Poppy as a coarse flower; but it is the most transparent and delicate of all the blossoms of the field. The rest, nearly all of them, depend on the texture of their surface for colour. But the Poppy is painted _glass_; it never glows so brightly as when the sun shines through it. Wherever it is seen, against the light or with the light, always it is a flame, and warms the wind like a blown ruby."--RUSKIN, _Proserpina_, p. 86.

POTATO.

(1) _Thersites._

How the devil Luxury, with his fat rump and Potato-finger,
tickles these together.

_Troilus and Cressida_, act v, sc. 2 (55).

(2) _Falstaff._

Let the sky rain Potatoes; let it thunder to the tune of Green
Sleeves, hail kissing-comfits, and snow Eringoes.

_Merry Wives of Windsor_, act v, sc. 5 (20).

The chief interest in these two passages is that they contain almost the earliest notice of Potatoes after their introduction into England. The generally received account is that they were introduced into Ireland in 1584 by Sir Walter Raleigh, and from thence brought into England; but the year of their first planting in England is not recorded. They are not mentioned by Lyte in 1586. Gerard grew them in 1597, but only as curiosities, under the name of Virginian Potatoes (_Battata Virginianorum_ and _Pappas_), to distinguish them from the Spanish Potato, or Convolvulus Battatas, which had been long grown in Europe, and in the first edition of his "Herbal" is his portrait, showing him holding a Potato in his hand. They seem to have grown into favour very slowly, for half a century after their introduction, Waller still spoke of them as one of the tropical luxuries of the Bermudas--

"With candy'd Plantains and the juicy Pine,
On choicest Melons and sweet Grapes they dine,
And with Potatoes fat their wanton swine."

_The Battel of the Summer Islands._

Potato is a corruption of Batatas or Patatas.

As soon as the Potato arrived in England, it was at once invested with wonderful restorative powers, and in a long exhaustive note in Steevens' Shakespeare, Mr. Collins has given all the passages in the early writers in which the Potato is mentioned, and in every case they have reference to these supposed virtues. These passages, which are chiefly from the old dramatists, are curious and interesting in the early history of the Potato, and as throwing light on the manners of our ancestors; but as in every instance they are all more or less indelicate, I refrain from quoting them here.

As a garden plant, we now restrict the Potato to the kitchen garden and the field, but it belongs to a very large family, the Solanaceæ or Nightshades, of which many members are very ornamental, though as they chiefly come from the tropical regions, there are very few that can be treated as entirely hardy plants. One, however, is a very beautiful climber--the Solanum jasminoides from South America--and quite hardy in the South of England. Trained against a wall it will soon cover it, and when once established will bear its handsome trusses of white flowers with yellow anthers in great profusion during the whole summer. A better known member of the family is the Petunia, very handsome, but little better than an annual. The pretty Winter Cherry (_Physalis alkekengi_) is another member of the family, and so is the Mandrake (_see_ MANDRAKE). The whole tribe is poisonous, or at least to be suspected, yet it contains a large number of most useful plants, as the Potato, Tomato, Tobacco, Datura, and Cayenne Pepper.

PRIMROSE.

(1) _Queen._

The Violets, Cowslips, and the Primroses,
Bear to my closet.

_Cymbeline_, act i, sc. 5 (83).

(2) _Queen._

I would be blind with weeping, sick with groans,
Look pale as Primrose with blood-drinking sighs,
And all to have the noble duke alive.

_2nd Henry VI_, act iii, sc. 2 (62).

(3) _Arviragus._

Thou shalt not lack
The flower that's like thy face, pale Primrose.

_Cymbeline_, act iv, sc. 2 (220).

(4) _Hermia._

In the wood where often you and I
Upon faint Primrose-beds were wont to lie.

_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act i, sc. 1 (214).

(5) _Perdita._

Pale Primroses,
That die unmarried, ere they can behold
Bright Phoebus in his strength.

_Winter's Tale_, act iv, sc. 4 (122).

(6) _Ophelia._

Like a puff'd and reckless libertine,
Himself the Primrose path of dalliance treads
And recks not his own rede.

_Hamlet_, act i, sc. 3 (49).

(7) _Porter._

I had thought to have let in some of all professions that go
the Primrose way to the everlasting bonfire.

_Macbeth_, act ii, sc. 3 (20).

(8)

Primrose, first-born child of Ver
Merry spring-time's harbinger,
With her bells dim.

_Two Noble Kinsmen_, Introd. song.

(9)

Witness this Primrose bank whereon I lie.

_Venus and Adonis_ (151).

Whenever we speak of spring flowers, the first that comes into our minds is the Primrose. Both for its simple beauty and for its early arrival among us we give it the first place over

"Whatsoever other flowre of worth
And whatso other hearb of lovely hew,
The joyous Spring out of the ground brings forth
To cloath herself in colours fresh and new."

It is a plant equally dear to children and their elders, so that I cannot believe that there is any one (except Peter Bell) to whom

"A Primrose by the river's brim
A yellow Primrose is to him--
And it is nothing more;"

rather I should believe that W. Browne's "Wayfaring Man" is a type of most English countrymen in their simple admiration of the common flower--

"As some wayfaring man passing a wood,
Whose waving top hath long a sea-mark stood,
Goes jogging on and in his mind nought hath,
But how the Primrose finely strews the path,
Or sweetest Violets lay down their heads
At some tree's roots or mossy feather beds."

_Britannia's Pastorals_, i, 5.

It is the first flower, except perhaps the Daisy, of which a child learns the familiar name; and yet it is a plant of unfailing interest to the botanical student, while its name is one of the greatest puzzles to the etymologist. The common and easy explanation of the name is that it means the first Rose of the year, but (like so many explanations that are derived only from the sound and modern appearance of a a name) this is not the true account. The full history of the name is too long to give here, but the short account is this--"The old name was Prime Rolles--or primerole. Primerole is an abbreviation of Fr., _primeverole_: It., _primaverola_, diminutive of _prima vera_ from _flor di prima vera_, the first spring flower. _Primerole_, as an outlandish unintelligible word, was soon familiarized into _primerolles_, and this into _primrose_."--DR. PRIOR. The name Primrose was not at first always applied to the flower, but was an old English word, used to show excellence--

"A fairer nymph yet never saw mine eie,
She is the pride and Primrose of the rest."

SPENSER, _Colin Clout_.

"Was not I [the Briar] planted of thine own hande
To bee the Primrose of all thy lande;
With flow'ring blossomes to furnish the prime
And scarlet berries in sommer time?"

SPENSER, _Shepherd's Calendar--Februarie_.

It was also a flower name, but not of our present Primrose, but of a very different plant. Thus in a Nominale of the fifteenth century we have "hoc ligustrum, a Primerose;" and in a Pictorial Vocabulary of the same date we have "hoc ligustrum, A{ce} a Prymrose;" and in the "Promptorium Parvulorum," "Prymerose, primula, calendula, ligustrum"--and this name for the Privet lasted with a slight alteration into Shakespeare's time. Turner in 1538 says, "ligustrum arbor est non herba ut literator[=u] vulgus credit; nihil que minus est quam a Prymerose." In Tusser's "Husbandry" we have "set Privie or Prim" (September Abstract), and--

"Now set ye may
The Box and Bay
Hawthorn and Prim
For clothe's trim"--(_January Abstract_).

And so it is described by Gerard as the Privet or Prim Print (_i.e._, _primé printemps_), and even in the seventeenth century, Cole says of ligustrum, "This herbe is called Primrose." When the name was fixed to our present plant I cannot say, but certainly before Shakespeare's time, though probably not long before. It is rather remarkable that the flower, which we now so much admire, seems to have been very much overlooked by the writers before Shakespeare. In the very old vocabularies it does not at all appear by its present Latin name, Primula vulgaris, but that is perhaps not to be wondered at, as nearly all the old botanists applied that name to the Daisy. But neither is it much noticed by any English name. I can only find it in two of the vocabularies. In an English Vocabulary of the fourteenth century is "Hæc pimpinella, A{e} primerolle," but it is very doubtful if this can be our Primrose, as the Pimpernel of old writers was the Burnet. Gower mentions it as the flower of the star Canis Minor--

"His stone and herbe as saith the scole
Ben Achates and Primerole."

_Conf. Aman._ lib. sept. (3, 130. Paulli).

And in the treatise of Walter de Biblesworth (13th century) is--

"Primerole et primeveyre (cousloppe)
Sur tere aperunt en tems de veyre."

I should think there is no doubt this is our Primrose. Then we have Chaucer's description of a fine lady--

"Hir schos were laced on hir legges hyghe
Sche was a Primerole, a piggesneyghe
For any lord have liggyng in his bedde,
Or yet for any gode yeman to wedde."

_The Milleres Tale._

I have dwelt longer than usual on the name of this flower, because it gives us an excellent example of how much literary interest may be found even in the names of our common English plants.

But it is time to come from the name to the flower. The English Primrose is one of a large family of more than fifty species, represented in England by the Primrose, the Oxlip, the Cowslip, and the Bird's-eye Primrose of the North of England and Scotland. All the members of the family, whether British or exotic, are noted for the simple beauty of their flowers, but in this special character there is none that surpasses our own. "It is the very flower of delicacy and refinement; not that it shrinks from our notice, for few plants are more easily seen, coming as it does when there is a dearth of flowers, when the first birds are singing, and the first bees humming, and the earliest green putting forth in the March and April woods; and it is one of those plants which dislikes to be looking cheerless, but keeps up a smouldering fire of blossom from the very opening of the year, if the weather will permit."--FORBES WATSON. It is this character of cheerfulness that so much endears the flower to us; as it brightens up our hedgerows after the dulness of winter, the harbinger of many brighter perhaps, but not more acceptable, beauties to come, it is the very emblem of cheerfulness. Yet it is very curious to note what entirely different ideas it suggested to our forefathers. To them the Primrose seems always to have brought associations of sadness, or even worse than sadness, for the "Primrose paths" and "Primrose ways" of Nos. 6 and 7 are meant to be suggestive of pleasures, but sinful pleasures.

Spenser associates it with death in some beautiful lines, in which a husband laments the loss of a young and beautiful wife--

"Mine was the Primerose in the lowly shade!

* * * * *

Oh! that so fair a flower so soon should fade,
And through untimely tempest fade away."

_Daphnidia_, 232.

In another place he speaks of it as "the Primrose trew"--_Prothalamion_; but in another place his only epithet for it is "green," which quite ignores its brightness--

"And Primroses greene
Embellish the sweete Violet."

_Shepherd's Calendar--April._

Shakespeare has no more pleasant epithets for our favourite flower than "pale," "faint," "that die unmarried;" and Milton follows in the same strain yet sadder. Once, indeed, he speaks of youth as "Brisk as the April buds in Primrose season" ("Comus"); but only in three passages does he speak of the Primrose itself, and in two of these he connects it with death--

"Bring the rathe Primrose that forsaken dies,

* * * * *

And every flower that sad embroidery wears."--_Lycidas._

"O fairest flower, no sooner blown but blasted,
Soft silken Primrose fading timelesslie;
Summer's chief honour, if thou hadst outlasted
Bleak winter's force that made thy blossoms drie."

_On the Death of a Fair Infant._

His third account is a little more joyous--

"Now the bright morning star, daye's harbinger,
Comes dancing from the East, and leads with her
The flowery May, who from her green lap throws
The yellow Cowslip and the pale Primrose."

_On May Morning._

And nearly all the poets of that time spoke in the same strain, with the exception of Ben Jonson and the two Fletchers. Jonson spoke of it as "the glory of the spring" and as "the spring's own spouse." Giles Fletcher says--

"Every bush lays deeply perfumed
With Violets; the wood's late wintry head,
Wide flaming Primroses set all on fire."

And Phineas Fletcher--

"The Primrose lighted new her flame displays,
And frights the neighbour hedge with fiery rays.
And here and there sweet Primrose scattered.

* * * * *

Nature seem'd work'd by Art, so lively true,
A little heaven or earth in narrow space she drew."