The plant-lore & garden-craft of Shakespeare
temperate regions, and numbering seventy species, of which three are
British.[17:2] These are A. Nemorosa, the common wood Anemone, the
brightest spring ornament of our woods; A. Apennina, abundant in the
South of Europe, and a doubtful British plant; and A. pulsatilla, the
Passe, or Pasque flower, _i.e._, the flower of Easter, one of the most
beautiful of our British flowers, but only to be found on the chalk
formation.
FOOTNOTES:
[15:1] Golding evidently adopted the reading "qui perflant omnia,"
instead of the reading now generally received, "qui præstant nomina."
[15:2] Gerard thought that Ovid's Anemone was the Venice
Mallow--_Hibiscus trionum_--a handsome annual from the South of Europe.
[16:1] In the "Nineteenth Century" for October, 1877, is an interesting
article by Mr. Gladstone on the "colour-sense" in Homer, proving that
Homer, and all nations in the earlier stages of their existence, have a
very limited perception of colour, and a very limited and loosely
applied nomenclature of colours. The same remark would certainly apply
to the early English writers, not excluding Shakespeare.
[17:1] Mr. Leo Grindon also identifies the classical Anemone with the
Cistus. See a good account of it in "Gardener's Chronicle," June 3,
1876.
[17:2] The small yellow A. ranunculoides has been sometimes included
among the British Anemones, but is now excluded. It is a rare plant, and
an alien.
APPLE.
(1) _Sebastian._
I think he will carry this island home and give it his son for
an Apple.
_Tempest_, act ii, sc. 1 (91).
(2) _Malvolio._
Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for a boy; as a
Squash is before 'tis a Peascod, or a Codling when 'tis
almost an Apple.
_Twelfth Night_, act i, sc. 5 (165).
(3) _Antonio._
An Apple, cleft in two, is not more twin
Than these two creatures.
_Ibid._, act 5, sc. 1 (230).
(4) _Antonio._
An evil soul producing holy witness
Is like a villain with a smiling cheek,
A goodly Apple rotten at the heart.
_Merchant of Venice_, act i, sc. 3 (100).
(5) _Tranio._
He in countenance somewhat doth resemble you.
_Biondello._
As much as an Apple doth an oyster, and all one.
_Taming of the Shrew_, act iv, sc. 2 (100).
(6) _Orleans._
Foolish curs, that run winking into the mouth of a Russian
bear, and have their heads crushed like rotten Apples.
_Henry V_, act iii, sc. 7 (153).
(7) _Hortensio._
Faith, as you say, there's small choice in rotten Apples.
_Taming of the Shrew_, act i, sc. 1 (138).
(8) _Porter._
These are the youths that thunder at a playhouse, and fight
for bitten Apples.
_Henry VIII_, act v, sc. 4 (63).
(9) _Song of Winter._
When roasted Crabs hiss in the bowl,
Then nightly sings the staring owl.
_Love's Labour's Lost_, act v, sc. 2 (935).
(10) _Puck._
And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl
In very likeness of a roasted Crab;
And when she drinks, against her lips I bob,
And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale.
_Midsummer Night's Dream_, act ii, sc. 1 (47).
(11) _Fool._
Shal't see thy other daughter will use thee kindly; for though
she's as like this as a Crab's like an Apple, yet I can tell
what I can tell.
_Lear._
Why, what can'st thou tell, my boy?
_Fool._
She will taste as like this as a Crab does to a Crab.
_King Lear_, act i, sc. 5 (14).
(12) _Caliban._
I prithee, let me bring thee where Crabs grow.
_Tempest_, act ii, sc. 2 (171).
(13) _Petruchio._
Nay, come, Kate, come, you must not look so sour.
_Katherine._
It is my fashion, when I see a Crab.
_Petruchio._
Why, here's no Crab, and therefore look not sour.
_Taming of the Shrew_, act ii, sc. 1 (229).
(14) _Menonius._
We have some old Crab-trees here at home that will not
Be grafted to your relish.
_Coriolanus_, act ii, sc. 1 (205).
(15) _Suffolk._
Noble stock
Was graft with Crab-tree slip.
_2nd Henry VI_, act iii, sc. 2 (213).
(16) _Porter._
Fetch me a dozen Crab-tree staves, and strong ones.
_Henry VIII_, act v, sc. 4 (7).
(17) _Falstaff._
My skin hangs about me like an old lady's loose gown; I am
withered like an old Apple-john.
_1st Henry IV_, act iii, sc. 3 (3).
(18) _1st Drawer._
What the devil hast thou brought there? Apple-johns? Thou
knowest Sir John cannot endure an Apple-john.
_2nd Drawer._
Mass! thou sayest true; the prince once set a dish of
Apple-johns before him, and told him there were five more
Sir Johns; and putting off his hat, said, I will now take my
leave of these six dry, round, old, withered knights.
_2nd Henry IV_, act ii, sc. 4 (1).
(19) _Shallow._
Nay, you shall see my orchard, where, in an arbour, we will
eat a last year's Pippin of my own graffing, with a dish of
Caraways, and so forth.
* * * * *
_Davey._
There's a dish of Leather-coats for you.
_Ibid._, act v, sc. 3 (1, 44).
(20) _Evans._
I pray you be gone; I will make an end of my dinner. There's
Pippins and cheese to come.
_Merry Wives of Windsor_, act i, sc. 2 (11).
(21) _Holofernes._
The deer was, as you know, _sanguis_, in blood; ripe as the
Pomewater, who now hangeth like a jewel in the ear of
_coelo_--the sky, the welkin, the heaven; and anon falleth
like a Crab on the face of _terra_--the soil, the land, the
earth.
_Love's Labour's Lost_, act iv, sc. 2 (3).
(22) _Mercutio._
Thy wit is a very Bitter Sweeting; it is a most sharp sauce.
_Romeo._
And is it not well served in to a sweet goose?
_Romeo and Juliet_, act ii, sc. 4 (83).
(23) _Petruchio._
What's this? A sleeve? 'Tis like a demi-cannon.
What! up and down, carved like an Apple-tart?
_Taming of the Shrew_, act iv, sc. 3 (88).
(24)
How like Eve's Apple doth thy beauty grow,
If thy sweet virtue answer not thy show!
_Sonnet_ xciii.
Here Shakespeare names the Apple, the Crab, the Pippin, the Pomewater,
the Apple-john, the Codling, the Caraway, the Leathercoat, and the
Bitter-Sweeting. Of the Apple generally I need say nothing, except to
notice that the name was not originally confined to the fruit now so
called, but was a generic name applied to any fruit, as we still speak
of the Love-apple, the Pine-apple,[20:1] &c. The Anglo-Saxon name for
the Blackberry was the Bramble-apple; and Sir John Mandeville, in
describing the Cedars of Lebanon, says: "And upon the hills growen Trees
of Cedre, that ben fulle hye, and they beren longe Apples, and als grete
as a man's heved"[20:2] (cap. ix.). In the English Bible it is the same.
The Apple is mentioned in a few places, but it is almost certain that it
never means the Pyrus malus, but is either the Orange, Citron, or
Quince, or is a general name for a tree fruit. So that when Shakespeare
(24) and the other old writers speak of Eve's Apple, they do not
necessarily assert that the fruit of the temptation was our Apple, but
simply that it was some fruit that grew in Eden. The Apple (_pomum_) has
left its mark in the language in the word "pomatum," which, originally
an ointment made of Apples, is now an ointment in which Apples have no
part.
The Crab was held in far more esteem in the sixteenth century than it is
with us. The roasted fruit served with hot ale (9 and 10) was a
favourite Christmas dish, and even without ale the roasted Crab was a
favourite, and this not for want of better fruit, for Gerard tells us
that in his time "the stocke or kindred of Apples was infinite," but
because they were considered pleasant food.[20:3] Another curious use of
Crabs is told in the description of Crab-wake, or "Crabbing the Parson,"
at Halesowen, Salop, on St. Kenelm's Day (July 17), in Brand's "Popular
Antiquities" (vol. i. p. 342, Bohn's edition). Nor may we now despise
the Crab tree, though we do not eat its fruit. Among our native trees
there is none more beautiful than the Crab tree, both in flower and in
fruit. An old Crab tree in full flower is a sight that will delight any
artist, nor is it altogether useless; its wood is very hard and very
lasting, and from its fruit verjuice is made, not, however, much in
England, as I believe nearly all the verjuice now used is made in
France.
The Pippin, from being originally a general name for any Apple raised
from pips and not from grafts, is now, and probably was in Shakespeare's
time, confined to the bright-coloured, long-keeping Apples (Justice
Shallow's was "last year's Pippin"), of which the Golden Pippin ("the
Pippin burnished o'er with gold," Phillips) is the type.
The Bitter-Sweeting (22) was an old and apparently a favourite Apple. It
is frequently mentioned in the old writers, as by Gower, "Conf. Aman."
viii. 174--
"For all such time of love is lore,
And like unto the Bitter-swete,[21:1]
For though it think a man fyrst swete
He shall well felen at laste
That it is sower."
By Chaucer--
"Yet of that art they conne nought wexe sadde,
For unto hem it is a Bitter Swete."
_Prologue of the Chanoune's Yeman._
And by Ben Jonson--
"That love's a Bitter-sweet I ne'er conceive
Till the sour minute comes of taking leave,
And then I taste it."[21:2]
_Underwoods._
Parkinson names it in his list of Apples, but soon dismisses it--"Twenty
sorts of Sweetings, and none good." The name is now given to an Apple of
no great value as a table fruit, but good as a cider apple, and for use
in silk dyeing.
It is not easy to identify the Pomewater (21). It was highly esteemed
both by Shakespeare ("it hangeth like a jewel in the ear of _coelo_")
and many other writers. In Gerard's figure it looks like a Codling, and
its Latin name is _Malus carbonaria_, which probably refers to its good
qualities as a roasting Apple. The name Pomewater (or Water Apple) makes
us expect a juicy but not a rich Apple, and with this agrees Parkinson's
description: "The Pomewater is an excellent, good, and great whitish
Apple, full of sap or moisture, somewhat pleasant sharp, but a little
bitter withall; it will not last long, the winter frosts soon causing it
to rot and perish." It must have been very like the modern Lord Suffield
Apple, and though Parkinson says it will not last long, yet it is
mentioned as lasting till the New Year in a tract entitled "Vox
Graculi," 1623. Speaking of New Year's Day, the author says: "This day
shall be given many more gifts than shall be asked for; and apples,