FOOTNOTES:

"Ful of delite,Slepe hath his hous, and of his couche,Within his chambre if I shall touche,Of Hebenus that slepy treThe bordes all aboute be."

Conf. Aman., lib. quart. (ii. 103, Paulli).

Spenser saysâ€”

"Faire Venus sonne,Â .Â .Â .Lay now thy deadly Heben bow apart."

F. Q., introd., st. 3.

"There (in Mammon's garden) Cypresse grew in greatest store,And trees of bitter gall and Heben sad."

F. Q., book ii, c. viij, st. 17.

And he speaks of a "speare of Heben wood," and "a Heben launce." Marlowe, a contemporary and friend of Shakespeare, makes Barabas curse his daughter withâ€”

"In few the blood of Hydra, Lerna's bane,The juice of Hebon, and Cocytus breath,And all the poison of the Stygian pool."

Jew of Malta, act iii, st. 4.

It may be taken for granted that all these authors allude to the same tree, but what tree is meant has sorely puzzled the commentators. Some naturally suggested the Ebony, and this view is supported by the respectable names of Archdeacon Nares, Douce, Schmidt, and Dyce. A larger number pronounced with little hesitation in favour of Henbane (Hyoscyamus niger), the poisonous qualities of which were familiar to the contemporaries of Shakespeare, and were supposed by most of the botanical writers of his day (and on the authority of Pliny) to be communicated by being poured into the ears. But the Henbane is not a tree, as Gower's "Hebenus" and Spenser's "Heben" certainly were; and though it will satisfy some of the requirements of the plant named by Shakespeare, it will not satisfy all.[119:1]

It might have been supposed that the difficulty would at once have been cleared up by reference to the accounts of the death of Hamlet's father, as given by Saxo Grammaticus, and the old "Hystorie of Hamblet," but neither of these writers attribute his death to poison.[119:2]

The question has lately been very much narrowed and satisfactorily settled (for the present, certainly, and probably altogether) by Dr. Nicholson and the Rev. W. A. Harrison. These gentlemen have decided that the true reading is Hebona, and that Hebona is the Yew. Their views are stated at full length in two exhaustive papers contributed to the New Shakespeare Society, and published in their "Transactions."[119:3]The full argument is too long for insertion here,and my readers will thank me for referring them to the papers in the "Transactions." The main arguments are based on three facts: 1. That in nearly all the northern nations (including, of course, Denmark) the name of the Yew is more or less like Heben. 2. That all the effects attributed by Shakespeare to the action of Hebona are described as arising from Yew-poisoning by different medical writers, some of them contemporary with him, and some writing with later experiences. 3. That thepost mortemappearances after Yew-poisoning and after snake-poisoning are very similar, and it was "given out, that sleeping in my orchard, a serpent stung me."

But it may well be asked, How could Shakespeare have known of all these effects, which (as far as our present search has discovered) are not named by any one writer of his time, and some of which have only been made public from the results of Yew-poisoning since his day? I think the question can be answered in a very simple way. The effects are described with such marked minuteness that it seems to me not only very probable, but almost certain, that Shakespeare must have been an eye-witness of a case of Yew-poisoning, and that what he saw had been so photographed on his mind that he took the first opportunity that presented itself to reproduce the picture. With his usual grand contempt for perfect accuracy he did not hesitate to sweep aside at once the strict historical records of the old king's death, and in its place to paint for us a cold-blooded murder carried out by means which he knew from his personal experience to be possible, and which he felt himself able to describe with a minuteness which his knowledge of his audiences assured him would not be out of place even in that great tragedy.

The objection to the Yew theory of Hebona, that the Yew is named by Shakespeare under its more usual name, is no real objection. On the same ground Ebony and Henbane must be excluded; together with Gilliflowers, which he elsewhere speaks of as Carnations; and Woodbine, because he also speaks of Honeysuckle.

[118:1]Hebona is the reading of the First Quarto (1603) and of the Second Quarto (1604), and is decided by the critics to be the true reading.

[119:1]Mr. Beisley suggests Enoron,i.e., Nightshade, which Mr. Dyce describes as "a villainous conjecture." In my first edition I expressed my belief that Hebenon was either Henbane or a general term for a deadly poisonous plant; but I had not then seen Dr. Nicholson's and Mr. Harrison's papers.

[119:2]Saxo Grammaticus: "Ubi datus parricidio locus, cruenta manu mentis libidinem satiavit; trucidati quoque fratris uxore potitus, incestum parricidio adjecit."â€”HistoriÃ¦ Danorum, lib. iii, fol. xxvii, Ed. 1514."The Historye of Hamblet, Prince of Denmark:" Fergon "having secretly assembled certain men and perceiving himself strong enough to execute his enterprise, Horvendile, his brother, being at a banquet with his friends, sodainely set upon him, where he slewe him as treacherously, as cunningly he purged himselfe of so detestable a murder to his subjects."â€”Collier'sShakespeare's Library.

"The Historye of Hamblet, Prince of Denmark:" Fergon "having secretly assembled certain men and perceiving himself strong enough to execute his enterprise, Horvendile, his brother, being at a banquet with his friends, sodainely set upon him, where he slewe him as treacherously, as cunningly he purged himselfe of so detestable a murder to his subjects."â€”Collier'sShakespeare's Library.

[119:3]"Hamlet's Cursed Hebenon," by Dr. R. B. Nicholson, M.D. (read Nov. 14, 1879). "Hamlet's Juice of Cursed Hebona," by Rev. W. A. Harrison, M.A. (read May 12, 1882). Both the papers are published in the "Transactions" of the Society.

One of the most poisonous of a suspicious family (the UmbelliferÃ¦), "the great Hemlocke doubtlesse is not possessed of any one good facultie, as appeareth by his lothsome smell and other apparent signes," and with this evil character the Hemlock was considered to be only fit for an ingredient of witches' brothâ€”

"I ha' been plucking (plants among)Hemlock, Henbane, Adder's Tongue,Nightshade, Moonwort, Leppard's-bane."

Ben Jonson,Witches' Song in the Masque of the Queens.

Yet the Hemlock adds largely to the beauty of our hedgerows; its spotted tall stems and its finely cut leaves make it a handsome weed, and the dead stems and dried umbels are marked features in the winter appearance of the hedges. As a poison it has an evil notoriety, being supposed to be the poison by which Socrates was put to death, though this is not quite certain. It is not, however, altogether a useless plantâ€”"It is a valuable medicinal plant, and in autumn the ripened stem is cut into pieces to make reeds for worsted thread."â€”Johnston.

In all these passages, except the last, the reference is to rope made from Hemp, and not to the Hemp plant, and it is very probable that Shakespeare never saw the plant. It was introduced into England long before his time, and largely cultivated, but only in few parts of England, and chiefly in the eastern counties. I do not find that it was cultivated in gardens in his time, but it is a plant well deserving a place in any garden, and is especially suitable from its height and regular growth, for the central plant of a flower-bed. It is supposed to be a native of India, and seems capable of cultivation in almost any climate.[122:1]

The name has a curious history. "The GreekÎºÎ¬Î½Î½Î±Î²Î¹Ï‚, and Latincannabis, are both identical with the Sanscritkanam, as well as with the Germanhanf, and the Englishhemp. More directly fromcannabiscomes canvas, made up of hemp or flax, and canvass, to discuss:i.e., sift a question; metaphorically from the use of hempen sieves or sifters."â€”Birdwood'sHandbook to the Indian Court, p. 23.

[122:1]In Shakespeare's time the vulgar name for Hemp was Neckweed, and there is a curious account of it under that name by William Bullein, in "The Booke of Compounds," f. 68.

From this single notice of the Holly in Shakespeare, and from the slight account of it in Gerard, we might conclude that the plant was not the favourite in the sixteenth century that it is in the nineteenth; but this would be a mistake. The Holly entered largely into the old Christmas carols.

"ChristmastideComes in like a bride,With Holly and Ivy clad"â€”

and it was from the earliest times used for the decoration of houses and churches at Christmas. It does not, however, derive its name from this circumstance, though it was anciently spelt "holy," or called the "holy tree," for the name comes from a very different source, and is identical with "holm," which, indeed, was its name in the time of Gerard and Parkinson, and is still its name in some parts of England, though it has almost lost its other old name of Hulver,[123:1]except in the eastern counties, where the word is still in use. But as an ornamental tree it does not seem to have been much valued, though in the next century Evelyn is loud in the praises of this "incomparable tree," and admired it both for its beauty and its use. It is certainly the handsomest of our native evergreens, and is said to be finer in England than in any other country; and as seen growing in its wild habitats in our forests, as it may be seen in the New Forest and the Forest of Dean, it stands without a rival, equally beautiful in summer and in winter; in summer its bright glossy leaves shining out distinctly in the midst of any surrounding greenery, while as "the Holly that outdares cold winter's ire" (Browne), it is the very emblem of bright cheerfulness, with its foliage uninjured in the most severe weather, and its rich coral berries, sometimes borne in the greatest profusion, delighting us with their brilliancy and beauty. And as a garden shrub, the Holly still holds its own, after all the fine exotic shrubs that have been introduced into our gardens during the present century. It can be grown as a single shrub, or it may be clipped, and will then form the best and the most impregnable hedge that can be grown. No otherplant will compare with it as a hedge plant, if it be only properly attended to, and we can understand Evelyn's pride in his "glorious and refreshing object," a Holly hedge 160ft. in length, 7ft. in height, and 5ft. in diameter, which he could show in his "poor gardens at any time of the year, glittering with its armed and vernished leaves," and "blushing with their natural corale." Nor need we be confined to plain green in such a hedge. The Holly runs into a great many varieties, with the leaves of all shapes and sizes, and blotched and variegated in different fashions and colours. All of these seem to be comparatively modern. In the time of Gerard and Parkinson there seems to have been only the one typical species, and perhaps the Hedgehog Holly.

I may finish the notice of the Holly by quoting two most remarkable uses of the tree mentioned by Parkinson: "With the flowers of Holly, saith Pliny from Pythagoras, water is made ice; and againe, a staffe of the tree throwne at any beast, although it fall short by his defect that threw it, will flye to him, as he lyeth still, by the speciall property of the tree." He may well addâ€”"This I here relate that you may understand the fond and vain conceit of those times, which I would to God we were not in these dayes tainted withal."

[123:1]"Hulwur-tre (huluyr), hulmus, hulcus aut huscus."â€”Promptorium Parvulorum.

TheCarduus benedictus, or Blessed Thistle, is a handsome annual from the South of Europe, and obtained its name from its high reputation as a heal-all, being supposedeven to cure the plague, which was the highest praise that could be given to a medicine in those days. It is mentioned in all the treatises on the Plague, and especially by Thomas Brasbridge, who, in 1578, published his "Poore Mans Jewell, that is to say, a Treatise of the Pestilence: vnto which is annexed a declaration of the vertues of the Hearbes Carduus Benedictus and Angelica." This little book Shakespeare may have seen; it speaks of the virtues of the "distilled" leaves: it says, "it helpeth the hart," "expelleth all poyson taken in at the mouth and other corruption that doth hurt and annoye the hart," and that "the juyce of it is outwardly applied to the bodie" ("lay it to your heart"), and concludes, "therefore I counsell all them that have Gardens to nourish it, that they may have it always to their own use, and the use of their neighbours that lacke it." The plant has long lost this high character.

I have joined together here the Woodbine and the Honeysuckle, because there can be little doubt that in Shakespeare's time the two names belonged to the same plant,[126:1]and that the Woodbine was (where the two names were at all discriminated, as in No.3), applied to the plant generally, and Honeysuckle to the flower. This seems very clear by comparing together Nos.1and2. In earlier writings the name was applied very loosely to almost any creeping or climbing plant. In an Anglo-Saxon Vocabulary of the eleventh century it is applied to the Wild Clematis ("Viticellaâ€”Weoden-binde"); while in Archbishop Ã†lfric's "Vocabulary" of the tenth century it is applied to the Hedera nigra, which may be either the Common or the Ground Ivy ("Hedera nigraâ€”Wude-binde"); and in the Herbarium and Leechdom books of the twelfth century it is applied to the Capparis or Caper-plant, by which, however (as Mr. Cockayne considers), the Convolvulus Sepium is meant. After Shakespeare's time again the words began to be used confusedly. Milton does not seem to have been very clear in the matter. In "Paradise Lost" he makes our first parents "wind the Woodbine round this arbour" (perhaps he had Shakespeare's arbour in his mind); and in "Comus" he tells us ofâ€”

"A bankWith ivy-canopied, and interwoveWith flaunting Honeysuckle."[126:2]

While in "Lycidas" he tells ofâ€”

"The Musk Rose and the well-attired Woodbine."

And we can scarcely suppose that he would apply two such contrary epithets as "flaunting" and "well-attired" to the same plant. And now the name, as of old, is used with great uncertainty, and I have heard it applied to manyplants, and especially to the small sweet-scented Clematis (C. flammula).

But with the Honeysuckle there is no such difficulty. The name is an old one, and in its earliest use was no doubt indifferently applied to many sweet-scented flowers (the Primrose amongst them); but it was soon attached exclusively to our own sweet Honeysuckle of the woods and hedges. We have two native species (Lonicera periclymenum and L. xylosteum), and there are about eighty exotic species, but none of them sweeter or prettier than our own, which, besides its fragrant flowers, has pretty, fleshy, red fruit.

The Honeysuckle has ever been the emblem of firm and fast affectionâ€”as it climbs round any tree or bush, that is near it, not only clinging to it faster than Ivy, but keeping its hold so tight as to leave its mark in deep furrows on the tree that has supported it. The old writers are fond of alluding to this. Bullein in "The Book of Simples," 1562, says very prettily, "Oh, how swete and pleasant is Wood-binde, in woodes or arbours, after a tender, soft rain: and how friendly doe this herbe, if I maie so name it, imbrace the bodies, armes, and branches of trees, with his long winding stalkes, and tender leaves, openyng or spreading forthe his swete Lillis, like ladie's fingers, emÅg the thornes or bushes," and there is no doubt from the context that he is here referring to the Honeysuckle. Chaucer gives the crown of Woodbine to those who were constant in loveâ€”

"And tho that weare chaplets on their hedeOf fresh Woodbine, be such as never wereTo love untrue in word, thought, ne dede,But aye stedfast; ne for pleasaunce ne fere,Though that they should their hertes al to-tere,Would never flit, but ever were stedfastTill that there lives there asunder brast."

The Flower and the Leaf.

The two last lines well describe the fast union between the Honeysuckle and its mated tree.

[126:1]"Woodbines of sweet honey full."Beaumont and Fletcher,Tragedy of Valentinian.

[126:1]

"Woodbines of sweet honey full."

Beaumont and Fletcher,Tragedy of Valentinian.

[126:2]Milton probably took the idea from Theocritusâ€”"Ivy reaches up and climbs,Gilded with blossom-dust about its lip;Round which a Woodbine wreathes itself, and flauntsHer saffron fruitage."â€”Idylli. (Calverley).

[126:2]Milton probably took the idea from Theocritusâ€”

"Ivy reaches up and climbs,Gilded with blossom-dust about its lip;Round which a Woodbine wreathes itself, and flauntsHer saffron fruitage."â€”Idylli. (Calverley).

We should scarcely expect such a lesson of wisdom drawn from the simple herb-garden in the mouth of the greatest knave and villain in the whole range of Shakespeare's writings. It was the preaching of a deep hypocrite, and while we hate the preacher we thank him for his lesson.[128:1]

The Hyssop (Hyssopus officinalis) is not a British plant, but it was held in high esteem in Shakespeare's time. Spenser spoke of it asâ€”

"Sharp Isope good for green wounds remedies"â€”

and Gerard grew in his garden five or six different species or varieties. He does not tell us where his plants came from, and perhaps he did not know. It comes chiefly from Austria and Siberia; yet Greene in his "Philomela," 1615, speaks of "the Hyssop growing in America, that is liked of strangers for the smell, and hated of the inhabitants for the operation, being as prejudicial to the one as delightsome to the other." It is now very little cultivated, for it is not a plant of much beauty, and its medicinal properties are not much esteemed; yet it is a plant that must always have an interest to readers of the Bible; for there it comes before us as the plant of purification, as the plant of which the study was not beneath the wisdom of Solomon, and especiallyas the plant that added to the cruelties of the Crucifixion. Whether the Hyssop of Scripture is the Hyssopus officinalis is still a question, but at the present time the most modern research has decided that it is.

[128:1]It seems likely from the following passage from Lily's "Euphues, the anatomy of wit," 1617, that the plants were not named at random by Iago, but that there was some connection between them. "Good gardeners, in their curious knots, mixe Isope with Time, as aiders the one with the others; the one being dry, the other moist." The gardeners of the sixteenth century had a firm belief in the sympathies and antipathies of plants.

It is very possible that Shakespeare had no particular plant in view, but simply referred to any of the many narcotic plants which, when given in excess, would "take the reason prisoner." The critics have suggested many plantsâ€”the Hemlock, the Henbane, the Belladonna, the Mandrake, &c., each one strengthening his opinion from coeval writers. In this uncertainty I should incline to the Henbane from the following description by Gerard and Lyte. "This herbe is called .Â .Â . of Apuleia-Mania" (Lyte). "Henbane is called .Â .Â . of Pythagoras, Zoroaster, and Apuleius, Insana" (Gerard).

The rich evergreen of "the Ivy never sear" (Milton) recommended it to the Romans to be joined with the Bay in the chaplets of poetsâ€”

"Hanc sine tempora circumInter victrices Hederam tibi serpere lauros."â€”Virgil.

"Seu condis amabile carmenPrima feres HederÃ¦ victricis prÃ¦mia."â€”Horace.

And in mediÃ¦val times it was used with Holly for Christmas decorations, so that Bullein called it "the womens Christmas Herbe." But the old writers always assumed a curious rivalry between the twoâ€”

"Holly and Ivy made a great partyWho should have the masteryIn lands where they go."

And there is a well-known carol of the time of Henry VI., which tells of the contest between the two, and of the mastery of the Holly; it is in eight stanzas, of which I extract the last fourâ€”

"Holly he hath berries as red as any Rose,The foresters, the hunters, keep them from the does;Ivy she hath berries as black as any Sloe,There come the owls and eat them as they go;Holly he hath birds, a full fair flock,The nightingale, the popinjay, the gentle laverock;Good Ivy, say to us, what birds hast thou?None but the owlet that cries 'How, how!'"

Thus the Ivy was not allowed the same honour inside the houses of our ancestors as the Holly, but it held its place outside the houses as a sign of good cheer to be had within. The custom is now extinct, but formerly an Ivy bush (called a tod of Ivy) was universally hung out in front of taverns in England, as it still is in Brittany and Normandy. Hence arose two proverbsâ€”"Good wine needs no bush,"i.e., the reputation is sufficiently good without further advertisement; and "An owl in an Ivy bush," as "perhaps denoting originally the union of wisdom or prudence with conviviality, as 'Be merry and wise.'"â€”Nares.

The Ivy was a plant as much admired by our grandfathers of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries as it is now by us. Spenser was evidently fond of itâ€”

"And nigh thereto a little chappel stoodeWhich being all with Yvy overspreadDeckt all the roofe, and shadowing the rodeSeem'd like a grove faire branched over hed."

F. Q., vi, v, 25.

In another place he speaks of it asâ€”

"Wanton Yvie, flouring fayre."â€”F. Q., ii, v, 29.

And in another placeâ€”

"Amongst the rest the clambering Ivie grewKnitting his wanton armes with grasping hold,Least that the Poplar happely should rewHer brother's strokes, whose boughs she doth enfoldWith her lythe twigs till they the top survew,And paint with pallid greene her buds of gold."

Virgil'sGnat.

Chaucer describes it asâ€”

"The erbe Ivie that groweth in our yard that mery is."

And in the same poem he prettily describes it asâ€”

"The pallid Ivie building his own bowre."

As a wild plant, the Ivy is found in Europe, Asia, and Africa, but not in America, and wherever it is found it loves to cover old walls and buildings, and trees of every sort,with its close and rich drapery and clusters of black fruit,[132:1]and where it once establishes itself it is always beautiful, but not always harmless. Both on trees and buildings it requires very close watching. It will very soon destroy soft-wooded trees, such as the Poplar and the Ash, by its tight embrace, not by sucking out the sap, but by preventing the outward growth of the shoots, and checkingâ€”and at length preventingâ€”the flow of sap; and in buildings it is no doubt beneficial as long as it is closely watched and kept in place, but if allowed to drive its roots into joints, or to grow under roofs, the swelling roots and branches will soon displace any masonry, and cause immense mischief.

We have only one species of Ivy in England, and there are only two real species recognized by present botanists, but there are infinite varieties, and many of them very beautiful. These variegated Ivies were known to the Greeks and Romans, and were highly prized by them, one especially with white fruit (at present not known) was the type of beauty. No higher praise could be given to a beauty than that she was "Hedera formosior alba." These varieties are scarcely mentioned by Gerard and Parkinson, and probably were not much valued; they are now in greater repute, and nothing will surpass them for rapidly and effectually covering any bare spaces.

I need scarcely add that the Ivy is so completely hardy that it will grow in any aspect and in any soil; that its flowers are the staple food of bees in the late autumn; and that all the varieties grow easily from cuttings at almost any time of the year.

[130:1]Sheep feeding on Ivyâ€”"My sheep have Honeysuckle bloom for pasture; Ivy growsIn multitudes around them, and blossoms like the Rose."Theocritus,Idyllv. (Calverley).

[130:1]Sheep feeding on Ivyâ€”

"My sheep have Honeysuckle bloom for pasture; Ivy growsIn multitudes around them, and blossoms like the Rose."

Theocritus,Idyllv. (Calverley).

[132:1]"The Ivy-meshShading the Ethiop berries."â€”Keats,Endymion.

[132:1]

"The Ivy-meshShading the Ethiop berries."â€”Keats,Endymion.

Kecksies or Kecks are the dried and withered stems of the Hemlock, and the name is occasionally applied to theliving plant. It seems also to have been used for any dry weedsâ€”

"All the wyves of Tottenham came to se that syght,With Wyspes, and Kexis, and ryschys ther lyght,To fech hom ther husbandes, that wer tham trouth plyght."

"The Tournament of Tottenham," inRitson'sAncient Songs and Ballads.

The Knot-grass is the Polygonum aviculare, a British weed, low, straggling, and many-jointed, hence its name of Knot-grass. There is no doubt that this is the plant meant, and its connection with a dwarf is explained by the belief, probably derived from some unrecorded character detected by the "doctrine of signatures," that the growth of children could be stopped by a diet of Knot-grass. Steevens quotes Beaumont and Fletcher to this effect, and this will probably explain the epithet "hindering." But there may be another explanation. Johnston tells us that in the north, "being difficult to cut in the harvest time, or to pull in the process of weeding, it has obtained the sobriquet of the Deil's-lingels." From this it may well be called "hindering," just as the Ononis, from the same habit of catching the plough and harrow, has obtained the prettier name of "Rest-harrow."

But though Shakespeare's Knot-grass is undoubtedly the Polygonum, yet the name was also given to another plant, for this cannot be the plant mentioned by Miltonâ€”

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