Chapter VI: Part I: The Plant-Lore of Shakespeare (3)

"Cowslips! how the children love them, and go out into the fields on the sunny April mornings to collect them in their little baskets, and then come home and pick the pips to make sweet unintoxicating wine, preserving at the same time untouched a bunch of the goodliest flowers as a harvest-sheaf of beauty! and then the white soft husks are gathered into balls and tossed from hand to hand till they drop to pieces, to be trodden upon and forgotten. And so at last, when each sense has had its fill of the flower, and they are thoroughly tired of their play, the children rest from their celebration of the Cowslip. Blessed are such flowers that appeal to every sense." So wrote Dr. Forbes Watson in his very pretty and Ruskinesque little work "Flowers and Gardens," and the passage well expresses one of the chief charms of the Cowslip. It is the most favourite wild flower with children. It must have been also a favourite with Shakespeare, for his descriptions show that he had studied it with affection. The minute description in (6) should be noticed. The upright golden Cowslip is compared to one of Queen Elizabeth's Pensioners, who were splendidly dressed, and are frequently noticed in the literature of the day. With Mrs. Quickly they were the _ne plus ultra_ of grandeur--"And yet there has been earls, nay, which is more, pensioners" ("Merry Wives," act ii, sc. 2). Milton, too, sings in its praise--

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

_Song on May Morning._

"Whilst from off the waters fleet,
Then I set my printless feet
O'er the Cowslip's velvet head
That bends not as I tread."

_Sabrina's Song in Comus._

But in "Lycidas" he associates it with more melancholy ideas--

"With Cowslips wan that hang the pensive head,
And every flower that sad embroidery wears."

This association of sadness with the Cowslip is copied by Mrs. Hemans, who speaks of "Pale Cowslips, meet for maiden's early bier;" but these are exceptions. All the other poets who have written of the Cowslip (and they are very numerous) tell of its joyousness, and brightness, and tender beauty, and its "bland, yet luscious, meadow-breathing scent."

The names of the plant are a puzzle; botanically it is a Primrose, but it is never so called. It has many names, but its most common are Paigle and Cowslip. Paigle has never been satisfactorily explained, nor has Cowslip. Our great etymologists, Cockayne and Dr. Prior and Wedgwood, are all at variance on the name; and Dr. Prior assures us that it has nothing to do with either "cows" or "lips," though the derivation, if untrue, is at least as old as Ben Jonson, who speaks of "Bright Dayes-eyes and the lips of Cowes." But we all believe it has, and, without inquiring too closely into the etymology, we connect the flower with the rich pastures and meadows of which it forms so pretty a spring ornament, while its fine scent recalls the sweet breath of the cow--"just such a sweet, healthy odour is what we find in cows; an odour which breathes around them as they sit at rest on the pasture, and is believed by many, perhaps with truth, to be actually curative of disease" (Forbes Watson).

Botanically, the Cowslip is a very interesting plant. In all essential points the Primrose, Cowslip, and Oxlip are identical; the Primrose, however, choosing woods and copses and the shelter of the hedgerows, the Cowslip choosing the open meadows, while the Oxlip is found in either. The garden "Polyanthus of unnumbered dyes" (Thomson's "Seasons:" Spring) is only another form produced by cultivation, and is one of the most favourite plants in cottage gardens. It may, however, well be grown in gardens of more pretension; it is neat in growth, handsome in flower, of endless variety, and easy cultivation. There are also many varieties of the Cowslip, of different colours, double and single, which are very useful in the spring garden.

FOOTNOTES:

[65:1] Drayton also allotted the Cowslip as the special Fairies' flower--

"For the queene a fitting bower,
(Quoth he) is that tall Cowslip flower."--_Nymphidia._

CRABS, _see_ APPLE.

CROCUS, _see_ SAFFRON.

CROW-FLOWERS.

_Queen._

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

_Hamlet_, act iv, sc. 7 (169).

The Crow-flower is now the Buttercup,[67:1] but in Shakespeare's time it was applied to the Ragged Robin (_Lychnis flos-cuculi_), and I should think that this was the flower that poor Ophelia wove into her garland. Gerard says, "They are not used either in medicine or in nourishment; but they serve for garlands and crowns, and to deck up gardens." We do not now use the Ragged Robin for the decking of our gardens, not that we despise it, for it is a flower that all admire in the hedgerows, but because we have other members of the same family as easy to grow and more handsome, such as the double variety of the wild plant, L. Chalcedonica, L. Lagascæ, L. fulgens, L. Haagena, &c. In Shakespeare's time the name was also given to the Wild Hyacinth, which is so named by Turner and Lyte; but this could scarcely have been the flower of Ophelia's garland, which was composed of the flowers of early summer, and not of spring. (See Appendix, p. 388.)

FOOTNOTES:

[67:1] In Scotland the Wild Hyacinth is still called the Crow-flower--

"Sweet the Crow-flower's early bell
Decks Gleniffer's dewy dell,
Blooming like thy bonny sel,
My young, my artless dearie, O."

TANNAHILL, _Gloomy Winter_.

CROWN IMPERIAL.

_Perdita._

Bold Oxlips, and
The Crown Imperial.

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

The Crown Imperial is a Fritillary (_F. imperialis_). It is a native of Persia, Afghanistan, and Cashmere, but it was very early introduced into England from Constantinople, and at once became a favourite. Chapman, in 1595, spoke of it as--

"Fair Crown Imperial, Emperor of Flowers."

OVID'S _Banquet of Sense_.

Gerard had it plentifully in his garden, and Parkinson gave it the foremost place in his "Paradisus Terrestris." "The Crown Imperial," he says, "for its stately beautifulnesse deserveth the first place in this our garden of delight, to be here entreated of before all other Lillies." George Herbert evidently admired it much--

"Then went I to a garden, and did spy
A gallant flower,
The Crown Imperial."

_Peace_ (13).

And if not in Shakespeare's time, yet certainly very soon after, there were as many varieties as there are now. The plant, as a florist's flower, has stood still in a very remarkable way. Though it is apparently a plant that invites the attention of the hybridizing gardener, yet we still have but the two colours, the red and the yellow (a pure white would be a great acquisition), with single and double flowers, flowers in tiers, and with variegated leaves. And all these varieties have existed for more than two hundred years.

As a stately garden plant it should be in every garden. It flowers early, and then dies down. But it should be planted rather in the background, as the whole plant has an evil smell, especially in sunshine. Yet it should have a close attention, if only to study and admire the beautiful interior of the flower. I know of no other flower that is similarly formed, and it cannot be better described than in Gerard's words: "In the bottome of each of the bells there is placed six drops of most cleere shining sweet water, in taste like sugar, resembling in shew faire Orient pearles, the which drops if you take away, there do immediately appeare the like; notwithstanding, if they may be suffered to stand still in the floure according to his owne nature, they wil never fall away, no, not if you strike the plant untill it be broken." How these drops are formed, and what service they perform in the economy of the flower, has not been explained, as far as I am aware; but there is a pretty German legend which tells how the flower was originally white and erect, and grew in its full beauty in the garden of Gethsemane, where it was often noticed and admired by our Lord; but in the night of the agony, as our Lord passed through the garden, all the other flowers bowed their head in sorrowful adoration, the Crown Imperial alone remaining with its head unbowed, but not for long--sorrow and shame took the place of pride, she bent her proud[69:1] head, and blushes of shame, and tears of sorrow soon followed, and so she has ever continued, with bent head, blushing colour, and ever-flowing tears. It is a pretty legend, and may be found at full length in "Good Words for the Young," August, 1870.

FOOTNOTES:

[69:1] The bent head of the Crown Imperial could not well escape notice--

"The Polyanthus, and with prudent head,
The Crown Imperial, ever bent on earth,
Favouring her secret rites, and pearly sweets."--FORSTER.

CUCKOO-BUDS AND FLOWERS.

(1) _Song of Spring._

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

_Love's Labour's Lost_, act v, sc. 2 (904).

(2) _Cordelia._

He was met even now
As mad as the vex'd sea; singing aloud;
Crown'd with rank Fumiter and Furrow-weeds,
With Burdocks, Hemlock, Nettles, Cuckoo-flowers,
Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow
In our sustaining Corn.

_King Lear_, act iv, sc. 4 (1).

There is a difficulty in deciding what flower Shakespeare meant by Cuckoo-buds. We now always give the name to the Meadow Cress (_Cardamine pratensis_), but it cannot be that in either of these passages, because that flower is mentioned under its other name of Lady-smocks in the previous line (No. 1), nor is it "of yellow hue;" nor does it grow among Corn, as described in No. 2. Many plants have been suggested, and the choice seems to me to lie between two. Mr. Swinfen Jervis[70:1] decides without hesitation in favour of Cowslips, and the yellow hue painting the meadows in spring time gives much force to the decision; Schmidt gives the same interpretation; but I think the Buttercup, as suggested by Dr. Prior, will still better meet the requirements.

FOOTNOTES:

[70:1] "Dictionary of the Language of Shakespeare," 1868.

CUPID'S FLOWER, _see_ PANSIES.

CURRANTS.

(1) _Clown._

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).

(2) _Theseus._

I stamp this kisse upon thy Currant lippe.

_Two Noble Kinsmen_, act i, sc. 1 (241).

The Currants of (1) are the Currants of commerce, the fruit of the Vitis Corinthiaca, whence the fruit has derived its name of Corans, or Currants.

The English Currants are of an entirely different family; and are closely allied to the Gooseberry. The Currants--black, white, and red--are natives of the northern parts of Europe, and are probably wild in Britain. They do not seem to have been much grown as garden fruit till the early part of the sixteenth century, and are not mentioned by the earlier writers; but that they were known in Shakespeare's time we have the authority of Gerard, who, speaking of Gooseberries, says: "We have also in our London gardens another sort altogether without prickes, whose fruit is very small, lesser by muche than the common kinde, but of a perfect red colour." This "perfect red colour" explains the "currant lip" of No. 2.

CYME, _see_ SENNA.

CYPRESS.[71:1]

(1) _Suffolk._

Their sweetest shade, a grove of Cypress trees!

_2nd Henry VI_, act iii, sc. 2 (322).

(2) _Aufidius._

I am attended at the Cypress grove.

_Coriolanus_, act i, sc. 10 (30).

(3) _Gremio._

In ivory coffers I have stuff'd my crowns,
In Cypress chests my arras counterpoints.

_Taming of the Shrew_, act ii, sc. 1 (351).

The Cypress (_Cupressus sempervirens_), originally a native of Mount Taurus, is found abundantly through all the South of Europe, and is said to derive its name from the Island of Cyprus. It was introduced into England many years before Shakespeare's time, but is always associated in the old authors with funerals and churchyards; so that Spenser calls it the "Cypress funereal," which epithet he may have taken from Pliny's description of the Cypress: "Natu morosa, fructu supervacua, baccis torva, foliis amara, odore violenta, ac ne umbrâ quidem gratiosa--Diti sacra, et ideo funebri signo ad domos posita" ("Nat. Hist.," xvi. 32).

Sir John Mandeville mentions the Cypress in a very curious way: "The Cristene men, that dwellen beyond the See, in Grece, seyn that the tree of the Cros, that we callen Cypresse, was of that tree that Adam ete the Appule of; and that fynde thei writen" ("Voiage," &c., cap. 2). And the old poem of the "Squyr of lowe degre," gives the tree a sacred pre-eminence--

"The tre it was of Cypresse,
The fyrst tre that Iesu chese."

RITSON'S _Ear. Eng. Met. Romances_, viii. (31).

"In the Arundel MS. 42 may be found an alphabet of plants. . . . The author mentions his garden 'by Stebenhythe by syde London,' and relates that he brought a bough of Cypress with its Apples from Bristol 'into Estbritzlond,' fresh in September, to show that it might be propagated by slips."--_Promptorium Parvulorum_, app. 67.

The Cypress is an ornamental evergreen, but stiff in its growth till it becomes of a good age; and for garden purposes the European plant is becoming replaced by the richer forms from Asia and North America, such as C. Lawsoniana, macrocarpa, Lambertiana, and others.

FOOTNOTES:

[71:1] Cypress, or Cyprus (for the word is spelt differently in the different editions), is also mentioned by Shakespeare in the following--

(1) _Clown._

In sad Cypress let me be laid.

_Twelfth Night_, act ii, sc. 4.

(2) _Olivia._

To one of your receiving
Enough is shown; and Cyprus, not a bosom,
Hides my poor heart.

_Ibid._, act iii, sc. 1.

(3) _Autolycus._

Lawn as white as driven snow,
Cyprus, black as e'er was crow.

_Winter's Tale_, act iv, sc. 3.

But in all these cases the Cypress is not the name of the plant, but is the fabric which we now call crape, the "sable stole of Cypre's lawn" of Milton's "Penseroso."

DAFFODILS.[73:1]

(1) _Autolycus._

When Daffodils begin to peer,
With heigh! the doxy o'er the dale,
Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year.

_Winter's Tale_, act iv, sc. 3 (1).

(2) _Perdita._

Daffodils
That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty.

_Ibid._, act iv, sc. 4 (118).

(3) _Wooer._

With chaplets on their heads of Daffodillies.

_Two Noble Kinsmen_, act iv, sc. 1 (94).

_See also_ NARCISSUS, p. 175.

Of all English plants there have been none in such constant favour as the Daffodil, whether known by its classical name of Narcissus, or by its more popular names of Daffodil, or Daffadowndilly, and Jonquil. The name of Narcissus it gets from being supposed to be the same as the plant so named by the Greeks first and the Romans afterwards. It is a question whether the plants are the same, and I believe most authors think they are not; but I have never been able to see very good reasons for their doubts. The name Jonquil comes corrupted through the French, from _juncifolius_ or "rush-leaf," and is properly restricted to those species of the family which have rushy leaves. "Daffodil" is commonly said to be a corruption of Asphodel ("Daffodil is +Asphodelon+, and has capped itself with a letter which eight hundred years ago did not belong to it."--COCKAYNE, _Spoon and Sparrow_, 19), with which plant it was confused (as it is in Lyte's "Herbal"), but Lady Wilkinson says very positively that "it is simply the old English word 'affodyle,'[73:2] which signifies 'that which cometh early.'" "Daffadowndilly," again is supposed to be but a playful corruption of "Daffodil," but Dr. Prior argues (and he is a very safe authority) that it is rather a corruption of "Saffron Lily." Daffadowndilly is not used by Shakespeare, but it is used by his contemporaries, as by Spenser frequently, and by H. Constable, who died in 1604--

"Diaphenia, like the Daffadowndilly,
White as the sun, fair as the Lilly,
Heigh, ho! how I do love thee!"

But however it derived its pretty names, it was the favourite flower of our ancestors as a garden flower, and especially as the flower for making garlands, a custom very much more common then than it is now. It was the favourite of all English poets. Gower describes the Narcissus--

"For in the winter fresh and faire
The flowres ben, which is contraire
To kind, and so was the folie
Which fell of his surquedrie"--_i.e._, of Narcissus.

_Confes. Aman._ lib. prim. (1. 121 Paulli).

Shakespeare must have had a special affection for it, for in all his descriptions there is none prettier or more suggestive than Perdita's short but charming description of the Daffodil (No. 2). A small volume might be filled with the many poetical descriptions of this "delectable and sweet-smelling flower," but there are some which are almost classical, and which can never be omitted, and which will bear repetition, however well we know them. Milton says, "The Daffodillies fill their cups with tears."[74:1] There are Herrick's well-known lines--

"Fair Daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon,
As yet the early-rising sun
Has not attained his noon;
Stay, stay,
Until the hastening day
Has run
But to the even-song;
And having prayed together, we
Will go with you along.

We have short time to stay as you,
We have as short a spring,
As quick a growth to meet decay,
As you or anything.
We die,
As your hours do, and dry
Away,
Like to the summer's rain,
Or as the pearls of morning dew,
Ne'er to be found again."

And there are Keats' and Shelley's well-known and beautiful lines which bring down the praises of the Daffodil to our own day. Keats says--

"A thing of beauty is a joy for ever,
Its loveliness increases, it will never
Pass into nothingness. . . . . .
. . . . . In spite of all
Some shape of beauty moves away the pale
From our dark spirits. Such the sun, the moon,
Trees old and young, sprouting a shady boon
For simple sheep; and such are Daffodils
With the green world they live in."

Shelley is still warmer in his praise--

"Narcissus, the fairest among them all,
Who gaze on their eyes in the stream's recess,
Till they die of their own dear loveliness."

_The Sensitive Plant_, p. 1.

Nor must Wordsworth be left out when speaking of the poetry of Daffodils. His stanzas are well known, while his sister's prose description of them is the most poetical of all: "They grew among the mossy stones; . . . some rested their heads on these stones as on a pillow, the rest tossed and reeled and danced, and seemed as if they verily laughed with the wind, they looked so gay and glancing."[76:1]

But it is time to come to prose. The Daffodil of Shakespeare is the Wild Daffodil (_Narcissus pseudo-Narcissus_) that is found in abundance in many parts of England. This is the true English Daffodil, and there is only one other species that is truly native--the N. biflorus, chiefly found in Devonshire. But long before Shakespeare's time a vast number had been introduced from different parts of Europe, so that Gerard was able to describe twenty-four different species, and had "them all and every of them in our London gardens in great abundance." The family, as at present arranged by Mr. J. G. Baker, of the Kew Herbarium, consists of twenty-one species, with several sub-species and varieties; all of which should be grown. They are all, with the exception of the Algerian species, which almost defy cultivation in England, most easy of cultivation--"Magnâ curâ non indigent Narcissi." They only require after the first planting to be let alone, and then they will give us their graceful flowers in varied beauty from February to May. The first will usually be the grand N. maximus, which may be called the King of Daffodils, though some authors have given to it a still more illustrious name. The "Rose of Sharon" was the large yellow Narcissus, common in Palestine and the East generally, of which Mahomet said: "He that has two cakes of bread, let him sell one of them for some flower of the Narcissus, for bread is the food of the body, but Narcissus is the food of the soul." From these grand leaders of the tribe we shall be led through the Hoop-petticoats, the many-flowered Tazettas, and the sweet Jonquils, till we end the Narcissus season with the Poets' Narcissus (Ben Jonson's "chequ'd and purple-ringed Daffodilly"), certainly one of the most graceful flowers that grows, and of a peculiar fragrance that no other flower has; so beautiful is it, that even Dr. Forbes Watson's description of it is scarcely too glowing: "In its general expression the Poets' Narcissus seems a type of maiden purity and beauty, yet warmed by a love-breathing fragrance; and yet what innocence in the large soft eye, which few can rival amongst the whole tribe of flowers. The narrow, yet vivid fringe of red, so clearly seen amidst the whiteness, suggests again the idea of purity, gushing passion--purity with a heart which can kindle into fire."

FOOTNOTES:

[73:1] This account of the Daffodil, and the accounts of some other flowers, I have taken from a paper by myself on the common English names of plants read to the Bath Field Club in 1870, and published in the "Transactions" of the Club, and afterwards privately printed.--H. N. E.

[73:2]

"Herbe orijam and Thyme and Violette
Eke Affodyle and savery thereby sette."

_Palladius on Husbandrie_, book i, 1014.
(E. E. Text Soc.)

[74:1] "The cup in the centre of the flower is supposed to contain the tears of Narcissus, to which Milton alludes; . . . and Virgil in the following--

'Pars intra septa domorum
Narcissi lacrymas . . . ponunt.'"--_Flora Domestica_, 268.

[76:1] The "Quarterly Review," quoting this description, says that "few poets ever lived who could have written a description so simple and original, so vivid and descriptive." Yet it is an unconscious imitation of Homer's account of the Narcissus--

"+narkisson th' . . .
thaumaston ganoônta; sebas de te pasin idesthai
athanatois te theois êde thnêtois anthrôpois;
tou kai apo rizês hekaton kara exepephykei;
kêôdei t' odmê pas t' ouranos eurys hyperthen,
gaia te pas; egelasse, kai almyron oidma thalassês.+"

_Hymn to Demeter_, 8-14.

DAISIES.

(1) _Song of Spring._

When Daisies pied, and Violets, &c.

_Love's Labour's Lost_, act v, sc. 2 (904).
(_See_ CUCKOO-BUDS.)

(2) _Lucius._

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

_Cymbeline_, act iv, sc. 2 (397).

(3) _Ophelia._

There's a Daisy.

_Hamlet_, act iv, sc. 5 (183).

(4) _Queen._

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

_Ibid._, act iv, sc. 7 (169).

(5)

Without the bed her other faire hand was
On the green coverlet; whose perfect white
Show'd like an April Daisy on the Grass.

_Lucrece_ (393).

(6)

Daisies smel-lesse, yet most quaint.

_Two Noble Kinsmen_, Introd. song.

_See_ APPENDIX. I., p. 359.

DAMSONS, _see_ PLUMS.

DARNEL.

(1) _Cordelia._

Darnel, and all the idle weeds that grow
In our sustaining Corn.

_King Lear_, act iv, sc. 4 (5).
(_See_ CUCKOO-FLOWERS.)

(2) _Burgundy._

Her fallow leas,
The Darnel, Hemlock, and rank Fumitory
Doth root upon.

_Henry V_, act v, sc. 2 (44).

(3) _Pucelle._

Good morrow, Gallants! want ye Corn for bread?
I think the Duke of Burgundy will fast,
Before he'll buy again at such a rate;
'Twas full of Darnel; do you like the taste?

_1st Henry VI_, act iii, sc. 2 (41).

Virgil, in his Fifth Eclogue, says--

"Grandia sæpe quibus mandavimus hordea solcis
Infelix lolium et steriles dominantur avenæ."

Thus translated by Thomas Newton, 1587--

"Sometimes there sproutes abundant store
Of baggage, noisome weeds,
Burres, Brembles, Darnel, Cockle, Dawke,
Wild Oates, and choaking seedes."

And the same is repeated in the first Georgic, and in both places _lolium_ is always translated Darnel, and so by common consent Darnel is identified with the Lolium temulentum or wild Rye Grass. But in Shakespeare's time Darnel, like Cockle (which see), was the general name for any hurtful weed. In the old translation of the Bible, the Zizania, which is now translated Tares, was sometime translated Cockle,[78:1] and Newton, writing in Shakespeare's time, says--"Under the name of Cockle and Darnel is comprehended all vicious, noisom and unprofitable graine, encombring and hindring good corne."--_Herball to the Bible._ The Darnel is not only injurious from choking the corn, but its seeds become mixed with the true Wheat, and so in Dorsetshire--and perhaps in other parts--it has the name of "Cheat" (Barnes' Glossary), from its false likeness to Wheat. It was this false likeness that got for it its bad character. "Darnell or Juray," says Lyte ("Herball," 1578), "is a vitious graine that combereth or anoyeth corne, especially Wheat, and in his knotten straw, blades, or leaves is like unto Wheate." Yet Lindley says that "the noxious qualities of Darnel or Lolium temulentum seem to rest upon no certain proof" ("Vegetable Kingdom," p. 116).

FOOTNOTES:

[78:1] "When men were a sleepe, his enemy came and oversowed Cockle among the wheate, and went his way."--_Rheims Trans._, 1582. For further early references to Cockle or Darnel see note on "Darnelle" in the "Catholicon Anglicum," p. 90, and Britten's "English Plant Names," p. 143.

DATES.

(1) _Clown._

I must have Saffron to colour the Warden pies--Mace--Dates?
none; that's out of my note.

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

(2) _Nurse._

They call for Dates and Quinces in the pastry.

_Romeo and Juliet_, act iv, sc. 4 (2).

(3) _Parolles._

Your Date is better in your pie and your porridge than in your
cheek.

_All's Well that Ends Well_, act i, sc. 1 (172).

(4) _Pandarus._

Do you know what a man is? Is not birth, beauty, good shape,
discourse, manhood, learning, gentleness, virtue, youth,
liberality, and such like, the spice and salt that season a
man?

_Cressida._

Ay, a minced man; and then to be baked with no Date in the
pye; for then the man's date's out.

_Troilus and Cressida_, act i, sc. 2 (274).

The Date is the well-known fruit of the Date Palm (_Phoenix dactylifera_), the most northern of the Palms. The Date Palm grows over the whole of Southern Europe, North Africa, and South-eastern Asia; but it is not probable that Shakespeare ever saw the tree, though Neckam speaks of it in the twelfth century, and Lyte describes it, and Gerard made many efforts to grow it; he tried to grow plants from the seed, "the which I have planted many times in my garden, and have grown to the height of three foot, but the first frost hath nipped them in such sort that they perished, notwithstanding mine industrie by covering them, or what else I could do for their succour." The fruit, however, was imported into England in very early times, and was called by the Anglo-Saxons Finger-Apples, a curious name, but easily explained as the translation of the Greek name for the fruit, +daktyloi+ which was also the origin of the word date, of which the olden form was dactylle.[80:1]

FOOTNOTES:

[80:1] "A dactylle frute dactilis."--_Catholicon Anglicum._

DEAD MEN'S FINGERS.

_Queen._

Our cold maids do Dead Men's Fingers call them.

_Hamlet_, act iv, sc. 7 (172).

_See_ LONG PURPLES, p. 148.

DEWBERRIES.

_Titania._

Feed him with Apricocks and Dewberries.

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

The Dewberry (_Rubus cæsius_) is a handsome fruit, very like the Blackberry, but coming earlier. It has a peculiar sub-acid flavour, which is much admired by some, as it must have been by Titania, who joins it with such fruits as Apricots, Grapes, Figs, and Mulberries. It may be readily distinguished from the Blackberry by the fruit being composed of a few larger drupes, and being covered with a glaucous bloom.

DIAN'S BUD.

_Oberon._

Be, as thou wast wont to be
(touching her eyes with an herb),
See, as thou wast wont to see;
Dian's Bud o'er Cupid's flower
Hath such force and blessed power.

_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act iv, sc. 1 (76).

The same herb is mentioned in act iii, sc. 2 (366)--

Then crush this herb into Lysander's eye,
Whose liquor hath this virtuous property,
To take from thence all error, with his might,
And make his eyeballs roll with wonted sight.

But except in these two passages I believe the herb is not mentioned by any author. It can be nothing but Shakespeare's translation of Artemisia, the herb of Artemis or Diana, a herb of wonderful virtue according to the writers before Shakespeare's day. (_See_ WORMWOOD.)

DOCKS.

(1) _Burgundy._

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

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

(2) _Antonio._

He'd sow it with Nettle seed,

_Sebastian._

Or Docks, or Mallows.

_Tempest_, act ii, sc. 1 (145).

The Dock may be dismissed with little note or comment, merely remarking that the name is an old one, and is variously spelled as dokke, dokar, doken, &c. An old name for the plant was "Patience;" the "bitter patience" of Spenser, which is supposed by Dr. Prior to be a corruption of Passions.

DOGBERRY.

(_Dramatis personæ_ in _Much Ado About Nothing._)

The Dogberry is the fruit either of the Cornus sanguinea or of the Euonymus Europæus. Parkinson limits the name to the Cornus, and says: "We for the most part call it the _Dogge berry tree_, because the berries are not fit to be eaten, or to be given to a dogge." The plant is only named by Shakespeare as a man's name, but it could scarcely be omitted, as I agree with Mr. Milner that it was "probable that our dramatist had the tree in his mind when he gave a name to that fine fellow for a 'sixth and lastly,' Constable, Dogberry of the Watch" ("Country Pleasures," p. 229).

EBONY.

(1) _King._

The Ebon-coloured ink.

_Love's Labour's Lost_, act i, sc. 1 (245).

(2) _King._

By heaven, thy love is black as Ebony.

_Biron._

Is Ebony like her? O wood divine!
A wife of such wood were felicity.

_Ibid._, act iv, sc. 3 (247).

(3) _Clown._

The clearstores towards the south north are as lustrous as
Ebony.

_Twelfth Night_, act iv, sc. 2 (41).

(4) _Pistol._

Rouse up revenge from Ebon den.

_2nd Henry IV_, act v, sc. 5 (39).

(5) Death's Ebon dart, to strike him dead.

_Venus and Adonis_ (948).

The Ebony as a tree was unknown in England in the time of Shakespeare. The wood was introduced, and was the typical emblem of darkness. The timber is the produce of more than one species, but comes chiefly from Diospyros Ebenum, Ebenaster, Melanoxylon, Mabola, &c. (Lindley), all natives of the East.

EGLANTINE.

(1) _Oberon._

I know a bank where the wild Thyme blows,
Where Oxlips and the nodding Violet grows;
Quite over-canopied with luscious Woodbine,
With sweet Musk-Roses and with Eglantine.

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

(2) _Arviragus._

Thou shalt not lack
The flower that's like thy face, pale Primrose, nor
The azured Harebell, like thy veins, no, nor
The leaf of Eglantine, whom not to slander,
Out-sweeten'd not thy breath.

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

If Shakespeare had only written these two passages they would sufficiently have told of his love for simple flowers. None but a dear lover of such flowers could have written these lines. There can be no doubt that the Eglantine in his time was the Sweet Brier--his notice of the sweet leaf makes this certain. Gerard so calls it, but makes some confusion--which it is not easy to explain--by saying that the flowers are white, whereas the flowers of the true Sweet Brier are pink. In the earlier poets the name seems to have been given to any wild Rose, and Milton certainly did not consider the Eglantine and the Sweet Brier to be identical. He says ("L'Allegro")--

"Through the Sweet Briar or the Vine,
Or the twisted Eglantine."

But Milton's knowledge of flowers was very limited. Herrick has some pretty lines on the flower, in which it seems most probable that he was referring to the Sweet Brier--

"From this bleeding hand of mine
Take this sprig of Eglantine,
Which, though sweet unto your smell,
Yet the fretful Briar will tell,
He who plucks the sweets shall prove
Many Thorns to be in love."

It was thus the emblem of pleasure mixed with pain--

"Sweet is the Eglantine, but pricketh nere."

SPENSER, _Sonnet_ xxvi.

And so its names pronounced it to be; it was either the Sweet Brier, or it was Eglantine, the thorny plant (Fr., _aiglentier_). There was also an older name for the plant, of which I can give no explanation. It was called Bedagar. "Bedagar dicitur gallice aiglentier" (John de Gerlande). "_Bedagrage_, spina alba, wit-thorn" (Harl. MS., No. 978 in "Reliquiæ Antiquæ," i, 36).[84:1] The name still exists, though not in common use; but only as the name of a drug made from "the excrescences on the branches of the Rose, and particularly on those of the wild varieties" (Parsons on the Rose).

It is a native of Britain, but not very common, being chiefly confined to the South of England. I have found it on Maidenhead Thicket. As a garden plant it is desirable for the extremely delicate scent of its leaves, but the flower is not equal to others of the family. There is, however, a double-flowered variety, which is handsome. The fruit of the single flowered tree is large, and of a deep red colour, and is said to be sometimes made into a preserve. In modern times this is seldom done, but it may have been common in Shakespeare's time, for Gerard says quaintly: "The fruit when it is ripe maketh most pleasant meats and banqueting dishes, as tarts and such like, the making whereof I commit to the cunning cooke, and teeth to eat them in the rich man's mouth." And Drayton says--

"They'll fetch you conserve from the hip,
And lay it softly on your lip."

_Nymphal II._

Eglantine has a further interest in being one of the many thorny trees from which the sacred crown of thorns was supposed to be made--"And afterwards he was led into a garden of Cayphas, and there he was crowned with Eglantine" (Sir John Mandeville).

FOOTNOTES:

[84:1] "Est et cynosrodos, rosa camina, ung eglantier, folia myrti habens, sed paulo majora; recta assurgens in mediam altitudinem inter arborem et fruticem; fert spongiolas, quibus utuntur medici, ad malefica capitis ulcera, la malle tigne, vocatur antem vulgo in officinis pharmacopolarum, bedegar."--_Stephani de re Hortensi Libellus_, p. 17, 1536.

ELDER.

(1) _Arviragus._

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

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

(2) _Host._

What says my Æsculapius? my Galen? my heart of Elder?

_Merry Wives_, act ii, sc. 3 (29).

(3) _Saturninus._

Look for thy reward
Among the Nettles at the Elder tree,

* * * * *

This is the pit and this the Elder tree.

_Titus Andronicus_, act ii, sc. 3 (271).

(4) _Williams._

That's a perilous shot out of an Elder gun, that a poor and
private displeasure can do against a monarch.

_Henry V_, act iv, sc. 1 (200).

(5) _Holofernes._

Begin, sir, you are my Elder.

_Biron._

Well followed; Judas was hanged on an Elder.

_Love's Labour's Lost_, act v, sc. 2 (608).

There is, perhaps, no tree round which so much of contradictory folk-lore has gathered as the Elder tree.[85:1] With many it was simply "the stinking Elder," of which nothing but evil could be spoken. Biron (No. 5) only spoke the common mediæval notion that "Judas was hanged on an Elder;" and so firm was this belief that Sir John Mandeville was shown the identical tree at Jerusalem, "and faste by is zit, the Tree of Eldre that Judas henge himself upon, for despeyr that he hadde, when he solde and betrayed oure Lord." This was enough to give the tree a bad fame, which other things helped to confirm--the evil smell of its leaves, the heavy narcotic smell of its flowers, its hard and heartless wood,[85:2] and the ugly drooping black fungus that is almost exclusively found on it (though it occurs also on the Elm), which was vulgarly called the Ear of Judas (_Hirneola auricula Judæ_). This was the bad character; but, on the other hand, there were many who could tell of its many virtues, so that in 1644 appeared a book entirely devoted to its praises. This was "The Anatomie of the Elder, translated from the Latin of Dr. Martin Blockwich by C. de Iryngio" (_i.e._, Christ. Irvine), a book that, in its Latin and English form, went through several editions. And this favourable estimate of the tree is still very common in several parts of the Continent. In the South of Germany it is believed to drive away evil spirits, and the name "'Holderstock' (Elder Stock) is a term of endearment given by a lover to his beloved, and is connected with Hulda, the old goddess of love, to whom the Elder tree was considered sacred." In Denmark and Norway it is held in like esteem, and in the Tyrol an "Elder bush, trained into the form of a cross, is planted on the new-made grave, and if it blossoms the soul of the person lying beneath it is happy." And this use of the Elder for funeral purposes was, perhaps, also an old English custom; for Spenser, speaking of Death, says--

"The Muses that were wont greene Baies to weare,
Now bringen bittre Eldre braunches seare."

_Shepherd's Calendar--November._

Nor must we pass by the high value that was placed on the wood both by the Jews and Greeks. It was the wood chiefly used for musical instruments, so that the name Sambuke was applied to several very different instruments, from the fact that they were all made of Elder wood. The "sackbut," "dulcimer," and "pipe" of Daniel iii. are all connected together in this manner.

As a garden plant the common Elder is not admissible, though it forms a striking ornament in the wild hedgerows and copses, while its flowers yield the highly perfumed Elder-flower water, and its fruits give the Elder wine; but the tree runs into many varieties, several of which are very ornamental, the leaves being often very finely divided and jagged, and variegated both with golden and silver blotches. There is a handsome species from Canada (Sambucus Canadensis), which is worth growing in shrubberies, as it produces its pure white flowers in autumn.

FOOTNOTES:

[85:1] Called also Eldern in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, and still earlier, Eller or Ellyr ("Catholicon Anglicum"). "The Ellern is a tree with long bowes, ful sounde and sad wythout, and ful holowe within, and ful of certayne nesshe pyth."--_Clanvil de prop._

[85:2] From the facility with which the hard wood can be hollowed out, the tree was from very ancient times called the Bore-tree. See "Catholicon Anglicum," s.v. Bur-tre.

ELM.

(1) _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).

(2) _Titania._

The female Ivy so
Enrings the barky fingers of the Elm.

_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act iv, sc. 1 (48).

(3) _Poins._

Answer, thou dead Elm, answer![87:1]

_2nd Henry IV_, act ii, sc, 4 (358).

Though Vineyards were more common in England in the sixteenth century than now, yet I can nowhere find that the Vines were ever trained, in the Italian fashion, to Elms or Poplars. Yet Shakespeare does not stand alone in thus speaking of the Elm in its connection with the Vine. Spenser speaks of "the Vine-prop Elme," and Milton--

"They led the Vine
To wed her Elm; she spoused, about him twines
Her marriageable arms, and with her brings
Her dower, the adopted clusters, to adorn
His barren leaves."

And Browne--

"She, whose inclination
Bent all her course to him-wards, let him know
He was the Elm, whereby her Vine did grow."

_Britannia's Pastorals_, book i, song 1.

"An Elm embraced by a Vine,
Clipping so strictly that they seemed to be
One in their growth, one shade, one fruit, one tree;
Her boughs his arms; his leaves so mixed with hers,
That with no wind he moved, but straight she stirs."

_Ibid._, ii, 4.

But I should think that neither Shakespeare, nor Browne, nor Milton ever saw an English Vine trained to an Elm; they were simply copying from the classical writers.

The Wych Elm is probably a true native, but the more common Elm of our hedgerows is a tree of Southern Europe and North Africa, and is of such modern introduction into England that in Evelyn's time it was rarely seen north of Stamford. It was probably introduced into Southern England by the Romans.

FOOTNOTES:

[87:1] Why Falstaff should be called a dead Elm is not very apparent; but the Elm was associated with death as producing the wood for coffins. Thus Chaucer speaks of it as "the piler Elme, the cofre unto careyne," _i.e._, carrion ("Parliament of Fowles," 177).

ERINGOES.

_Falstaff._

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

_Merry Wives_, act v, sc. 5 (20).

Gerard tells us that Eringoes are the candied roots of the Sea Holly (_Eryngium maritimum_), and he gives the recipe for candying them. I am not aware that the Sea Holly is ever now so used, but it is a very handsome plant as it is seen growing on the sea shore, and its fine foliage makes it an ornamental plant for a garden. But as used by Falstaff I am inclined to think that the vegetable he wished for was the Globe Artichoke, which is a near ally of the Eryngium, was a favourite diet in Shakespeare's time, and was reputed to have certain special virtues which are not attributed to the Sea Holly, but which would more accord with Falstaff's character.[88:1] I cannot, however, anywhere find that the Artichoke was called Eringoes.

FOOTNOTES:

[88:1] For these supposed virtues of the Artichoke see Bullein's "Book of Simples."

FENNEL.

(1) _Ophelia._

There's Fennel for you and Columbines.

_Hamlet_, act iv, sc 5 (189).

(2) _Falstaff._

And a' plays at quoits well, and eats conger and Fennel.

_2nd Henry IV_, act ii, sc. 4 (266).

The Fennel was always a plant of high reputation. The Plain of Marathon was so named from the abundance of Fennel (+marathron+) growing on it.[89:1] And like all strongly scented plants, it was supposed by the medical writers to abound in "virtues." Gower, describing the star Pleiades, says--

"Eke his herbe in speciall
The vertuous Fenel it is."

_Conf. Aman._, lib. sept. (3, 129. Paulli.)

These virtues cannot be told more pleasantly than by Longfellow--

"Above the lowly plants it towers,
The Fennel with its yellow flowers,
And in an earlier age than ours
Was gifted with the wondrous powers--
Lost vision to restore.
It gave men strength and fearless mood,
And gladiators fierce and rude
Mingled it with their daily food:
And he who battled and subdued
A wreath of Fennel wore."

"Yet the virtues of Fennel, as thus enumerated by Longfellow, do not comprise either of those attributes of the plant which illustrate the two passages from Shakespeare. The first alludes to it as an emblem of flattery, for which ample authority has been found by the commentators.[89:2] Florio is quoted for the phrase 'Dare finocchio,' _to give fennel_, as meaning _to flatter_. In the second quotation the allusion is to the reputation of Fennel as an inflammatory herb with much the same virtues as are attributed to Eringoes."--Mr. J. F. MARSH in _The Garden_.

The English name was directly derived from its Latin name _Foeniculum_, which may have been given it from its hay-like smell (_foenum_), but this is not certain. We have another English word derived from the Giant Fennel of the South of Europe (_ferula_); this is the ferule, an instrument of punishment for small boys, also adopted from the Latin, the Roman schoolmaster using the stalks of the Fennel for the same purpose as the modern schoolmaster uses the cane.

The early poets looked on the Fennel as an emblem of the early summer--

"Hyt befell yn the month of June
When the Fenell hangeth yn toun."

_Libæus Diaconus._(1225).

As a useful plant, the chief use is as a garnishing and sauce for fish. Large quantities of the seed are said to be imported to flavour gin, but this can scarcely be called useful. As ornamental plants, the large Fennels (F. Tingitana, F. campestris, F. glauca, &c.) are very desirable where they can have the necessary room.

FOOTNOTES:

[89:1] "Fennelle or Fenkelle, feniculum maratrum."--_Catholicon Anglicum._

[89:2]

"_Christophers._

No, my _good lord_.

_Count._

Your _good lord_! O, how this smells of Fennel."

BEN JONSON, _The Case Altered_, act ii, sc. 2.

FERN.

_Gadshill._

We have the receipt of Fern-seed--we walk invisible.

_Chamberlain._

Now, by my faith, I think you are more beholding to the night
than to Fern-seed for your walking invisible.

_1st Henry IV_, act ii, sc. 1 (95).

There is a fashion in plants as in most other things, and in none is this more curiously shown than in the estimation in which Ferns are and have been held. Now-a-days it is the fashion to admire Ferns, and few would be found bold enough to profess an indifference to them. But it was not always so. Theocritus seems to have admired the Fern--

"Like Fern my tresses o'er my temples streamed."

_Idyll_ xx. (_Calverley._)

"Come here and trample dainty Fern and Poppy blossom."

_Idyll_ v. (_Calverley._)

But Virgil gives it a bad character, speaking of it as "filicem invisam." Horace is still more severe, "neglectis urenda filix innascitur agris." The Anglo-Saxon translation of Boethius spoke contemptuously of the "Thorns, and the Furzes, and the Fern, and all the weeds" (Cockayne). And so it was in Shakespeare's time. Butler spoke of it as the--

"Fern, that vile, unuseful weed,
That grows equivocably without seed."

Cowley spoke the opinion of his day as if the plant had neither use nor beauty--

"Nec caulem natura mihi, nec Floris honorem,
Nec mihi vel semen dura Noverca dedit--
Nec me sole fovet, nec cultis crescere in hortis
Concessum, et Foliis gratia nulla meis--
Herba invisa Deis poteram coeloque videri,
Et spurio Terræ nata puerperio."

_Plantarum_, lib. i.

And later still Gilpin, who wrote so much on the beauties of country scenery at the close of the last century, has nothing better to say for Ferns than that they are noxious weeds, to be classed with "Thorns and Briers, and other ditch trumpery." The fact, no doubt, is that Ferns were considered something "uncanny and eerie;" our ancestors could not understand a plant which seemed to them to have neither flower nor seed, and so they boldly asserted it had neither. "This kinde of Ferne," says Lyte in 1587, "beareth neither flowers nor sede, except we shall take for sede the black spots growing on the backsides of the leaves, the whiche some do gather thinking to worke wonders, but to say the trueth it is nothing els but trumperie and superstition." A plant so strange must needs have strange qualities, but the peculiar power attributed to it of making persons invisible arose thus:--It was the age in which the doctrine of signatures was fully believed in; according to which doctrine Nature, in giving particular shapes to leaves and flowers, had thereby plainly taught for what diseases they were specially useful.[91:1] Thus a heart-shaped leaf was for heart disease, a liver-shaped for the liver, a bright-eyed flower was for the eyes, a foot-shaped flower or leaf would certainly cure the gout, and so on; and then when they found a plant which certainly grew and increased, but of which the organs of fructification were invisible, it was a clear conclusion that properly used the plant would confer the gift of invisibility. Whether the people really believed this or not we cannot say,[92:1] but they were quite ready to believe any wonder connected with the plant, and so it was a constant advertisement with the quacks. Even in Addison's time "it was impossible to walk the streets without having an advertisement thrust into your hand of a doctor who had arrived at the knowledge of the Green and Red Dragon, and had discovered the female Fern-seed. Nobody ever knew what this meant" ("Tatler," No. 240). But to name all the superstitions connected with the Fern would take too much space.

The name is expressive; it is a contraction of the Anglo-Saxon _fepern_, and so shows that some of our ancestors marked its feathery form; and its history as a garden plant is worth a few lines. So little has it been esteemed as a garden plant that Mr. J. Smith, the ex-Curator of the Kew Gardens, tells us that in the year 1822 the collection of Ferns at Kew was so extremely poor that "he could not estimate the entire Kew collection of exotic Ferns at that period at more than forty species" (Smith's "Ferns, British and Exotic," introduction). Since that time the steadily increasing admiration of Ferns has caused collectors to send them from all parts of the world, so that in 1866 Mr. Smith was enabled to describe about a thousand species, and now the number must be much larger; and the closer search for Ferns has further brought into notice a very large number of most curious varieties and monstrosities, which it is still more curious to observe are, with very few exceptions, confined to the British species.

FOOTNOTES:

[91:1] See Brown's "Religio Medici," p. ii. 2.

[92:1] It probably was the real belief, as we find it so often mentioned as a positive fact; thus Browne--

"Poor silly fool! thou striv'st in vain to know
If I enjoy or love where thou lov'st so;
Since my affection ever secret tried
Blooms like the Fern, and seeds still unespied."

_Poems_, p. 26 (Sir E. Brydges' edit. 1815).

FIGS.

(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) _Constance._

And its grandam will
Give it a Plum, a Cherry, and a Fig.

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

(3) _Guard._

Here is a rural fellow
That will not be denied your Highness's presence,
He brings you Figs.

_Antony and Cleopatra_, act v, sc. 2 (233).

(4) _1st Guard._

A simple countryman that brought her Figs.

_Ibid._ (342).

_Ditto._

These Fig-leaves
Have slime upon them.

_Ibid._, act v, sc. 2 (354).

(5) _Pistol._

When Pistol lies, do this; and Fig me, like
The bragging Spaniard.

_2nd Henry IV_, act v, sc. 3 (123).

(6) _Pistol._

Die and be damned, and Figo for thy friendship.

_Fluellen._

It is well.

_Pistol._

The Fig of Spain.

_Henry V_, act iii, sc. 6 (60).

(7) _Pistol._

The Figo for thee, then.

_Ibid._, act iv, sc. 1 (60).

(8) _Iago._

Virtue! a Fig!

_Othello_, act i, sc. 3 (322).

(9) _Iago._

Blessed Fig's end!

_Ibid._, act ii, sc. 1 (256).

(10) _Horner._

I'll pledge you all, and a Fig for Peter.

_2nd Henry IV_, act ii, sc. 3 (66).

(11) _Pistol._

"Convey," the wise it call; "steal!" foh! a Fico
for the phrase!

_Merry Wives_, act i, sc. 3 (32).

(12) _Charmian._

O excellent! I love long life better than Figs.

_Antony and Cleopatra_, act i, sc. 2 (32).

In some of these passages (as 5, 6, 7, and perhaps in more) the reference is to a grossly insulting and indecent gesture called "making the fig." It was a most unpleasant custom, which largely prevailed throughout Europe in Shakespeare's time, and on which I need not dwell. It is fully described in Douce's "Illustrations of Shakespeare," i, 492.

In some of the other quotations the reference is simply to the proverbial likeness of a Fig to a matter of the least importance.[94:1] But in the others the dainty fruit, the green Fig, is noticed.

The Fig tree, celebrated from the earliest times for the beauty of its foliage and for its "sweetness and good fruit" (Judges ix. 11), is said to have been introduced into England by the Romans; but the more reliable accounts attribute its introduction to Cardinal Pole, who is said to have planted the Fig tree still living at Lambeth Palace. Botanically, the Fig is of especial interest. The Fig, as we eat it, is neither fruit nor flower, though partaking of both, being really the hollow, fleshy receptacle enclosing a multitude of flowers, which never see the light, yet come to full perfection and ripen their seed. The Fig stands alone in this peculiar arrangement of its flowers, but there are other plants of which we eat the unopened or undeveloped flowers, as the Artichoke, the Cauliflower, the Caper, the Clove, and the Pine Apple.

FOOTNOTES:

[94:1] This proverbial worthlessness of the Fig is of ancient date. Theocritus speaks of +sykinoi andres+, useless men; Horace, "Olim truncus eram ficulnus, inutile lignum;" and Juvenal, "Sterilis mala robora ficus."

FILBERTS.

_Caliban._

I'll bring thee to clustering Filberds.

_Tempest_, act ii, sc. 2(174).
(_See_ HAZEL.)

FLAGS.

_Cæsar._