Kitabı oku: «Folk-lore of Shakespeare», sayfa 19

 
“Good majesty,
Herod of Jewry dare not look upon you
But when you are well pleas’d.”
 

In the “Merry Wives of Windsor” (ii. 1), Mrs. Page speaks of him in the same signification: “What a Herod of Jewry is this!”

Mr. Dyce, in his “Glossary” (p. 207), has this note: “If the reader wishes to know what a swaggering, uproarious tyrant Herod was represented to be in those old dramatic performances, let him turn to ‘Magnus Herodes’ in ‘The Towneley Mysteries,’ p. 140, ed. Surtees Society; to ‘King Herod’ in the ‘Coventry Mysteries,’ p. 188, ed. Shakespeare Society; and to ‘The Slaughter of the Innocents’ in ‘The Chester Plays,’ vol. i. p. 172, ed. Shakespeare Society.”

Like Herod, Termagant⁶⁶² was a hectoring tyrant of the miracle-plays, and as such is mentioned by Hamlet in the passage quoted above. Hence, in course of time, the word was used as an adjective, in the sense of violent, as in “1 Henry IV.” (v. 4), “that hot termagant Scot.” Hall mentions him in his first satire:

 
“Nor fright the reader with the Pagan vaunt
Of mighty Mahound and great Termagaunt.”
 

While speaking of the old mysteries or miracle-plays we may also here refer to the “moralities,” a class of religious plays in which allegorical personifications of the virtues and vices were introduced as dramatis personæ. These personages at first only took part in the play along with the Scriptural or legendary characters, but afterwards entirely superseded them. They continued in fashion till the time of Queen Elizabeth. Several allusions are given by Shakespeare to these moral plays. Thus, in “Twelfth Night” (iv. 1), the clown sings:

 
“I am gone, sir,
And anon, sir,
I’ll be with you again
In a trice,
Like to the old Vice,
Your need to sustain;
 
 
Who, with dagger of lath,
In his rage and his wrath,
Cries, Ah, ha! to the devil,” etc.
 

Again, in “1 Henry IV.” (ii. 4), Prince Henry speaks of “that reverend Vice, that grey Iniquity;” and in “2 Henry IV.” (iii. 2), Falstaff says, “now is this Vice’s dagger become a squire.”

Again, further allusions occur in “Richard III.” (iii. 1). Gloster says:

 
“Thus, like the formal Vice, Iniquity,
I moralize two meanings in one word.”
 

And once more, Hamlet (iii. 4), speaks of “a Vice of kings,” “a king of shreds and patches.”

According to Nares, “Vice” had the name sometimes of one vice, sometimes of another, but most commonly of Iniquity, or Vice itself. He was grotesquely dressed in a cap with ass’s ears, a long coat, and a dagger of lath. One of his chief employments was to make sport with the devil, leaping on his back, and belaboring him with his dagger of lath, till he made him roar. The devil, however, always carried him off in the end. He was, in short, the buffoon of the morality, and was succeeded in his office by the clown, whom we see in Shakespeare and others.⁶⁶³

Again, there may be a further allusion to the moralities in “King Lear” (ii. 2), where Kent says to Oswald, “take Vanity, the puppet’s, part, against the royalty of her father.”

Then, too, there were the “pageants” – shows which were usually performed in the highways of our towns, and assimilated in some degree to the miracle-plays, but were of a more mixed character, being partly drawn from profane history. According to Strutt, they were more frequent in London, being required at stated periods, such as the setting of the Midsummer Watch, and the Lord Mayor’s Show.⁶⁶⁴ Among the allusions to these shows given by Shakespeare, we may quote one in “Richard III.” (iv. 4), where Queen Margaret speaks of

 
“The flattering index of a direful pageant”
 

– the pageants displayed on public occasions being generally preceded by a brief account of the order in which the characters were to walk. These indexes were distributed among the spectators, that they might understand the meaning of such allegorical representations as were usually exhibited. In the “Merchant of Venice” (i. 1), Salarino calls argosies “the pageants of the sea,” in allusion, says Douce,⁶⁶⁵ “to those enormous machines, in the shapes of castles, dragons, ships, giants, etc., that were drawn about the streets in the ancient shows or pageants, and which often constituted the most important part of them.” Again, in “As You Like It” (iii. 4), Corin says:

 
“If you will see a pageant truly play’d,
Between the pale complexion of true love
And the red glow of scorn and proud disdain,
Go hence a little, and I shall conduct you,
If you will mark it.”
 

And in “Antony and Cleopatra” (iv. 14), Antony speaks of “black vesper’s pageants.”

The nine worthies, originally comprising Joshua, David, Judas Maccabæus, Hector, Alexander, Julius Cæsar, Arthur, Charlemagne, and Godfrey of Bouillon, appear from a very early period to have been introduced occasionally in the shows and pageants of our ancestors. Thus, in “Love’s Labour’s Lost” (v. 2), the pageant of the nine worthies is introduced. As Shakespeare, however, introduces Hercules and Pompey among his presence of worthies, we may infer that the characters were sometimes varied to suit the circumstances of the period, or the taste of the auditory. A MS. preserved in the library of Trinity College, Dublin, mentions the “Six Worthies” having been played before the Lord Deputy Sussex in 1557.⁶⁶⁶

Another feature of the Whitsun merry-makings were the Cotswold games, which were generally on the Thursday in Whitsun week, in the vicinity of Chipping Campden. They were instituted by an attorney of Burton-on-the-Heath, in Warwickshire, named Robert Dover, and, like the Olympic games of the ancients, consisted of most kinds of manly sports, such as wrestling, leaping, pitching the bar, handling the pike, dancing, and hunting. Ben Jonson, Drayton, and other poets of that age wrote verses on this festivity, which, in 1636, were collected into one volume, and published under the name of “Annalia Dubrensia.”⁶⁶⁷ In the “Merry Wives of Windsor” (i. 1), Slender asks Page, “How does your fallow greyhound, sir? I heard say, he was outrun on Cotsall.” And in “2 Henry IV.”⁶⁶⁸ (iii. 2), Shallow, by distinguishing Will Squele as “a Cotswold man,” meant to imply that he was well versed in manly exercises, and consequently of a daring spirit and athletic constitution. A sheep was jocularly called a “Cotsold,” or “Cotswold lion,” from the extensive pastures in that part of Gloucestershire.

While speaking of Whitsuntide festivities, we may refer to the “roasted Manningtree ox with the pudding in his belly,” to which Prince Henry alludes in “1 Henry IV.” (ii. 4). It appears that Manningtree, in Essex, formerly enjoyed the privilege of fairs, by the tenure of exhibiting a certain number of Stage Plays yearly. There were, also, great festivities there, and much good eating, at Whitsun ales and other times. Hence, it seems that roasting an ox whole was not uncommon on such occasions. The pudding spoken of by Prince Henry often accompanied the ox, as we find in a ballad written in 1658:⁶⁶⁹

 
“Just so the people stare
At an ox in the fair
Roasted whole with a pudding in ’s belly.”
 

Sheep-shearing Time commences as soon as the warm weather is so far settled that the sheep may, without danger, lay aside their winter clothing; the following tokens being laid down by Dyer, in his “Fleece” (bk. i), to mark out the proper time:⁶⁷⁰

 
“If verdant elder spreads
Her silver flowers; if humble daisies yield
To yellow crowfoot and luxuriant grass
Gay shearing-time approaches.”
 

Our ancestors, who took advantage of every natural holiday, to keep it long and gladly, celebrated the time of sheep-shearing by a feast exclusively rural. Drayton,⁶⁷¹ the countryman of Shakespeare, has graphically described this festive scene, the Vale of Evesham being the locality of the sheep-shearing which he has pictured so pleasantly:

 
“The shepherd king,
Whose flock hath chanc’d that year the earliest lamb to bring,
In his gay baldric sits at his low, grassy board,
With flawns, curds, clouted cream, and country dainties stored;
And whilst the bag-pipe plays, each lusty, jocund swain
Quaffs syllabubs in cans, to all upon the plain,
And to their country girls, whose nosegays they do wear;
Some roundelays do sing; the rest the burthen bear.”
 

In the “Winter’s Tale,” one of the most delicious scenes (iv. 4) is that of the sheep-shearing, in which we have the more poetical “shepherd-queen.” Mr. Furnivall,⁶⁷² in his introduction to this play, justly remarks: “How happily it brings Shakespeare before us, mixing with his Stratford neighbors at their sheep-shearing and country sports, enjoying the vagabond pedler’s gammon and talk, delighting in the sweet Warwickshire maidens, and buying them ‘fairings,’ telling goblin stories to the boys, ‘There was a man dwelt in a churchyard,’ opening his heart afresh to all the innocent mirth, and the beauty of nature around him.” The expense attaching to these festivities appears to have afforded matter of complaint. Thus, the clown asks, “What am I to buy for our sheep-shearing feast?” and then proceeds to enumerate various things which he will have to purchase. In Tusser’s “Five Hundred Points of Husbandry” this festival is described under “The Ploughman’s Feast-days:”

 
“Wife, make us a dinner, spare flesh neither corne,
Make wafers and cakes, for our sheep must be shorne;
At sheepe-shearing, neighbours none other things crave,
But good cheere and welcome like neighbours to have.”
 

Midsummer Eve appears to have been regarded as a period when the imagination ran riot, and many a curious superstition was associated with this season. Thus, people gathered on this night the rose, St. John’s wort, vervain, trefoil, and rue, all of which were supposed to have magical properties. They set the orpine in clay upon pieces of slate or potsherd in their houses, calling it a “Midsummer man.” As the stalk was found next morning to incline to the right or left, the anxious maiden knew whether her lover would prove true to her or not. Young men sought, also, for pieces of coal, but, in reality, certain hard, black, dead roots, often found under the living mugwort, designing to place these under their pillows, that they might dream of themselves.⁶⁷³ It was also supposed that any person fasting on Midsummer-eve, and sitting in the church-porch, would at midnight see the spirits of those persons of that parish who would die that year come and knock at the church-door, in the order and succession in which they would die. Midsummer was formerly thought to be a season productive of madness. Thus, Malvolio’s strange conduct is described by Olivia in “Twelfth Night” (iii. 4) as “A very midsummer madness.” And, hence, “A Midsummer-Night’s Dream” is no inappropriate title for “the series of wild incongruities of which the play consists.”⁶⁷⁴ The Low-Dutch have a proverb that, when men have passed a troublesome night, and could not sleep, “they have passed St. John Baptist’s night” – that is, they have not taken any sleep, but watched all night. Heywood seems to allude to a similar notion when he says:

 
“As mad as a March hare: where madness compares,
Are not midsummer hares as mad as March hares?”
 

A proverbial phrase, too, to signify that a person was mad, was, “’Tis midsummer moon with you” – hot weather being supposed to affect the brain.

Dog-days. A popular superstition – in all probability derived from the Egyptians – referred to the rising and setting of Sirius, or the Dog-star, as infusing madness into the canine race. Consequently, the name of “Dog-days” was given by the Romans to the period between the 3d of July and 11th of August, to which Shakespeare alludes in “Henry VIII.” (v. 3), “the dog-days now reign.” It is obvious that the notion is utterly groundless, for not only does the star vary in its rising, but is later and later every year. According to the Roman belief, “at the rising of the Dog-star the seas boil, the wines ferment in the cellars, and standing waters are set in motion; the dogs, also, go mad, and the sturgeon is blasted.” The term Dog-days is still a common phrase, and it is difficult to say whether it is from superstitious adherence to old custom or from a belief of the injurious effect of heat upon the canine race that the magistrates, often unwisely, at this season of the year order them to be muzzled or tied up.

Lammas-day (August 1). According to some antiquarians, Lammas is a corruption of loaf-mass, as our ancestors made an offering of bread from new wheat on this day. Others derive it from lamb-mass, because the tenants who held lands under the Cathedral Church of York were bound by their tenure to bring a live lamb into the church at high mass.⁶⁷⁵ It appears to have been a popular day in times past, and is mentioned in the following dialogue in “Romeo and Juliet” (i. 3), where the Nurse inquires:

 
“How long is it now
To Lammas-tide?
 
 
Lady Capulet. A fortnight, and odd days.
 
 
Nurse. Even or odd, of all days in the year,
Come Lammas-eve at night, shall she be fourteen?”
 

In Neale’s “Essays on Liturgiology” (2d. ed., p. 526), the Welsh equivalent for Lammas-day is given as “dydd degwm wyn,” lamb-tithing day.

St. Charity (August 1). This saint is found in the Martyrology on the 1st of August: “Romæ passio Sanctaram Virginum Fidei, Spei, et Charitatis, quæ sub Hadriano principe martyriæ coronam adeptæ sunt.”⁶⁷⁶ She is alluded to by Ophelia, in her song in “Hamlet” (iv. 5):

 
“By Gis,⁶⁷⁷ and by Saint Charity,
Alack, and fie for shame!” etc.
 

In the “Faire Maide of Bristowe” (1605) we find a similar allusion:

 
“Now, by Saint Charity, if I were judge,
A halter were the least should hamper him.”
 

St. Bartholomew’s Day (August 24). The anniversary of this festival was formerly signalized by the holding of the great Smithfield Fair, the only real fair held within the city of London. One of the chief attractions of Bartholomew Fair were roasted pigs. They were sold “piping hot, in booths and on stalls, and ostentatiously displayed to excite the appetite of passengers.” Hence, a “Bartholomew pig” became a popular subject of allusion. Falstaff, in “2 Henry IV.” (ii. 4), in coaxing ridicule of his enormous figure, is playfully called, by his favorite Doll: “Thou whoreson little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig.” Dr. Johnson, however, thought that paste pigs were meant in this passage; but this is improbable, as the true Bartholomew pigs were real roasted pigs, as may be seen from Ben Jonson’s play of “Bartholomew Fair” (i. 6), where Ursula, the pig-woman, is an important personage.⁶⁷⁸ Gay, too, speaks of the pig-dressers: “Like Bartholomew Fair pig-dressers, who look like the dams, as well as the cooks, of what they roasted.” A further allusion to this season is found in “Henry V,” (v. 2), where Burgundy tells how “maids, well-summered and warm kept, are like flies at Bartholomew-tide, blind, though they have their eyes; and then they will endure handling, which before would not abide looking on.”

Harvest Home. The ceremonies which graced the ingathering of the harvest in bygone times have gradually disappeared, and at the present day only remnants of the old usages which once prevailed are still preserved. Shakespeare, who has chronicled so many of our old customs, and seems to have had a special delight in illustrating his writings with these characteristics of our social life, has given several interesting allusions to the observances which, in his day, graced the harvest-field. Thus, in Warwickshire, the laborers, at their harvest-home, appointed a judge to try misdemeanors committed during harvest, and those who were sentenced to punishment were placed on a bench and beaten with a pair of boots. Hence the ceremony was called “giving them the boots.” It has been suggested that this custom is alluded to in the “Two Gentlemen of Verona” (i. 1), where Shakespeare makes Proteus, parrying Valentine’s raillery, say, “nay, give me not the boots.”

In Northamptonshire, when any one misconducted himself in the field during harvest, he was subjected to a mock-trial at the harvest-home feast, and condemned to be booted, a description of which we find in the introduction to Clare’s “Village Minstrel:” “A long form is placed in the kitchen, upon which the boys who have worked well sit, as a terror and disgrace to the rest, in a bent posture, with their hands laid on each other’s backs, forming a bridge for the ‘hogs’ (as the truant boys are called) to pass over; while a strong chap stands on each side with a boot-legging, soundly strapping them as they scuffle over the bridge, which is done as fast as their ingenuity can carry them.” Some, however, think the allusion in the “Two Gentlemen of Verona” is to the diabolical torture of the boot. Not a great while before this play was written, it had been inflicted, says Douce,⁶⁷⁹ in the presence of King James, on one Dr. Fian, a supposed wizard, who was charged with raising the storms that the king encountered in his return from Denmark. The unfortunate man was afterwards burned. This horrible torture, we are told,⁶⁸⁰ consisted in the leg and knee of the criminal being enclosed within a tight iron boot or case, wedges of iron being then driven in with a mallet between the knee and the iron boot. Sir Walter Scott, in “Old Mortality,” has given a description of Macbriar undergoing this punishment. At a later period “the boot” signified, according to Nares,⁶⁸¹ an instrument for tightening the leg or hand, and was used as a cure for the gout, and called a “bootikins.” The phrase “to give the boots” seems to have been a proverbial expression, signifying “Don’t make a laughing-stock of me; don’t play upon me.”

In the “Merchant of Venice” (v. 1), where Lorenzo says:

 
“Come, ho! and wake Diana with a hymn:
With sweetest touches pierce your mistress’ ear,
And draw her home with music,”
 

we have, doubtless, an allusion to the “Hock Cart” of the old harvest-home. This was the cart which carried the last corn away from the harvest-field,⁶⁸² and was generally profusely decorated, and accompanied by music, old and young shouting at the top of their voices a doggerel after the following fashion:

 
“We have ploughed, we have sowed,
We have reaped, we have mowed,
We have brought home every load,
Hip, hip, hip! harvest home.”⁶⁸³
 

In “Poor Robin’s Almanack” for August, 1676, we read:

 
“Hoacky is brought home with hallowing,
Boys with plumb-cake the cart following.”
 

Holyrood Day (September 14). This festival,⁶⁸⁴ called also Holy-Cross Day, was instituted by the Romish Church, on account of the recovery of a large piece of the supposed cross by the Emperor Heraclius, after it had been taken away, on the plundering of Jerusalem, by Chosroes, king of Persia. Among the customs associated with this day was one of going a-nutting, alluded to in the old play of “Grim, the Collier of Croydon” (ii. 1):

 
“To morrow is Holy-rood day,
When all a-nutting take their way.”
 

Shakespeare mentions this festival in “1 Henry IV.” (i. 1), where he represents the Earl of Westmoreland relating how,

 
“On Holy-rood day, the gallant Hotspur there,
Young Harry Percy and brave Archibald,
That ever-valiant and approved Scot,
At Holmedon met.”
 

St. Lambert’s Day (September 17). This saint, whose original name was Landebert, but contracted into Lambert, was a native of Maestricht, in the seventh century, and was assassinated early in the eighth.⁶⁸⁵ His festival is alluded to in “Richard II.” (i. 1), where the king says:

 
“Be ready, as your lives shall answer it,
At Coventry, upon Saint Lambert’s day.”
 

Michaelmas (September 29). In the “Merry Wives of Windsor” (i. 1), this festival is alluded to by Simple, who, in answer to Slender, whether he had “the Book of riddles” about him, replies: “Why, did you not lend it to Alice Shortcake upon All-hallowmas last, a fortnight afore Michaelmas,” – this doubtless being an intended blunder.

In “1 Henry IV.” (ii. 4), Francis says: “Let me see – about Michaelmas next I shall be.”

St. Etheldreda, or Audry, commemorated in the Romish Calendar on the 23d of June, but in the English Calendar on the 17th of October, was daughter of Annas, King of the East Angles. She founded the convent and church of Ely, on the spot where the cathedral was subsequently erected. Formerly, at Ely, a fair was annually held, called in her memory St. Audry’s Fair, at which much cheap lace was sold to the poorer classes, which at first went by the name of St. Audry’s lace, but in time was corrupted into “tawdry lace.” Shakespeare makes an allusion to this lace in the “Winter’s Tale” (iv. 4), where Mopsa says: “Come, you promised me a tawdry lace, and a pair of sweet gloves;” although in his time the expression rather meant a rustic necklace.⁶⁸⁶ An old English historian makes St. Audry die of a swelling in her throat, which she considered as a particular judgment for having been in her youth addicted to wearing fine necklaces.⁶⁸⁷

St. Crispin’s Day (October 25) has for centuries been a red-letter day in the calendar of the shoemakers, being the festival of their patron saint. According to tradition, the brothers Crispin and Crispinian, natives of Rome, having become converted to Christianity, travelled to Soissons, in France, in order to preach the gospel. Being desirous, however, of rendering themselves independent, they earned their daily bread by making shoes, with which, it is said, they furnished the poor, at an extremely low price. When the governor of the town discovered that they maintained the Christian faith, and also tried to make proselytes of the inhabitants, he ordered them to be beheaded. From this time the shoemakers have chosen them for their tutelary saints. Shakespeare has perpetuated the memory of this festival by the speech which he has given to Henry V. (iv. 3), before the battle of Agincourt:

 
“This day is call’d the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam’d,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say, ‘To-morrow is Saint Crispian.’”
 

St. Dennis has been adopted as the patron saint of France (October 9), in the same manner as the English have chosen St. George. The guardianship of the two countries is thus expressed in the chorus to the old ballad:

 
“St. George he was for England,
St. Denis was for France,
Singing, Honi soit qui mal y pense.”
 

King Henry (“Henry V.,” v. 2) says to Princess Katherine: “Shall not thou and I, between Saint Dennis and Saint George, compound a boy, half French, half English,” etc. In “1 Henry VI.” (iii. 2), Charles says:

 
“Saint Dennis bless this happy stratagem,
And once again we’ll sleep secure in Rouen.”
 

Hallowmas (November 1) is one of the names for the feast of All-hallows, that is, All-Saints. Shakespeare alludes to a custom relative to this day, some traces of which are still to be found in Staffordshire, Cheshire, and other counties. The poor people go from parish to parish a-souling, as they term it, that is, begging, in a certain lamentable tone, for soul-cakes, at the same time singing a song which they call the souler’s song. This practice is, no doubt, a remnant of the Popish ceremony of praying for departed souls, especially those of friends, on the ensuing day, November 2, the feast of All-Souls.⁶⁸⁸ The following is a specimen of the doggerel sung on these occasions:

 
“Soul! soul! for a soul-cake;
Pray, good mistress, for a soul-cake.
One for Peter, and two for Paul,
Three for them who made us all.
 
 
Soul! soul! for an apple or two:
If you’ve got no apples, pears will do.
Up with your kettle, and down with your pan,
Give me a good big one, and I’ll be gone.
Soul! soul! for a soul-cake, etc.
 
 
An apple, a pear, a plum, or a cherry,
Is a very good thing to make us merry.”
 

In the “Two Gentlemen of Verona” (ii. 1), Speed thus speaks of this practice: “To watch, like one that fears robbing; to speak puling,⁶⁸⁹ like a beggar at Hallowmas.”

The season of Hallowmas, having been frequently mild, has been, from time immemorial, proverbially called “All-hallown summer,” i. e., late summer. Thus, in “1 Henry IV.” (i. 2), Prince Henry, likening Falstaff, with his old age and young passions, to this November summer, addresses him: “Farewell, thou latter spring! Farewell, All-hallown summer.”⁶⁹⁰ In some parts of Germany there is a proverb, “All-Saints’ Day brings the second summer;” and in Sweden there is often about this time a continuance of warm, still weather, which is called “the All-Saints’ rest.”

There is another reference to this festival in “Richard II.” (v. 1), where the king says of his wife:

 
“She came adorned hither like sweet May,
Sent back like Hallowmas or short’st of day.”
 

All-Souls’ Day (November 2) – which is set apart by the Roman Catholic Church for a solemn service for the repose of the dead – was formerly observed in this country, and among the many customs celebrated in its honor were ringing the passing bell, making soul-cakes, blessing beans, etc.⁶⁹¹ In “Richard III.” (v. 1), Buckingham, when led to execution, says:

 
“This is All-Souls’ day, fellows, is it not?
 
 
Sheriff. It is, my lord.
 
 
Buckingham. Why, then, All-Souls’ day is my body’s doomsday.”
 

Lord Mayor’s Day (November 9). A custom which was in days gone by observed at the inauguration dinner was that of the Lord Mayor’s fool leaping, clothes and all, into a large bowl of custard. It is alluded to in “All’s Well that Ends Well” (ii. 5), by Lafeu: “You have made shift to run into’t, boots and spurs and all, like him that leaped into the custard.” Ben Jonson, in his “Devil’s an Ass” (i. 1), thus refers to it:

 
“He may, perchance, in tail of a sheriff’s dinner,
Skip with a rime o’ the table, from new nothing,
And take his almain leap into a custard,
Shall make my lady mayoress and her sisters,
Laugh all their hoods over their shoulders.”
 

St. Martin’s Day (November 11). The mild weather about this time has given rise to numerous proverbs; one of the well-known ones being “St. Martin’s little summer,” an allusion to which we find in “1 Henry VI.” (i. 2), where Joan of Arc says:

 
“Expect Saint Martin’s summer, halcyon days.”
 

which Johnson paraphrases thus: “Expect prosperity after misfortune, like fair weather at Martlemas, after winter has begun.” As an illustration, too, of this passage, we may quote from the Times, October 6, 1864: “It was one of those rare but lovely exceptions to a cold season, called in the Mediterranean St. Martin’s summer.”

A corruption of Martinmas is Martlemas. Falstaff is jocularly so called by Poins, in “2 Henry IV.” (ii. 2), as being in the decline, as the year is at this season: “And how doth the martlemas, your master?”

This was the customary time for hanging up provisions to dry, which had been salted for winter use.

St. Nicholas (December 6). This saint was deemed the patron of children in general, but more particularly of all schoolboys, among whom his festival used to be a very great holiday. Various reasons have been assigned for his having been chosen as the patron of children – either because the legend makes him to have been a bishop while yet a boy, or from his having restored three young scholars to life who had been cruelly murdered,⁶⁹² or, again, on account of his early abstinence when a boy. In the “Two Gentlemen of Verona” (iii. 1) he is alluded to in this capacity:

 
“Speed. Come, fool, come; try me in thy paper.
 
 
Launce. There; and Saint Nicholas be thy speed.”
 

Nicholas’s clerks was, and still is, a cant term for highwaymen and robbers; but though the expression is very common, its origin is a matter of uncertainty. In “1 Henry IV.” (ii. 1) it is thus alluded to:

“Gadshill. Sirrah, if they meet not with Saint Nicholas’ clerks, I’ll give thee this neck.

Chamberlain. No. I’ll none of it: I pr’thee, keep that for the hangman: for I know thou worshippest Saint Nicholas as truly as a man of falsehood may.”

Christmas. Among the observances associated with this season, to which Shakespeare alludes, we may mention the Christmas Carol, a reference to which is probably made in “A Midsummer-Night’s Dream” (ii. 1), by Titania:

 
“No night is now with hymn or carol blest.”
 

Hamlet (ii. 2) quotes two lines from a popular ballad, entitled the “Song of Jephthah’s Daughter,” and adds: “The first row of the pious chanson will show you more.”⁶⁹³

In days gone by, the custom of carol-singing was most popular, and Warton, in his “History of English Poetry,” notices a license granted in 1562 to John Tysdale for printing “Certayne goodly carowles to be songe to the glory of God;” and again “Crestenmas Carowles auctorisshed by my lord of London.”⁶⁹⁴

In the “Taming of the Shrew” (Ind., sc. 2) Sly asks whether “a comonty⁶⁹⁵ is not a Christmas gambold.” Formerly the sports and merry-makings at this season were on a most extensive scale, being presided over by the Lord of Misrule.⁶⁹⁶ Again, in “Love’s Labour’s Lost” (v. 2), Biron speaks of “a Christmas comedy.”

As we have noticed, too, in our chapter on Plants, a gilt nutmeg was formerly a common gift at Christmas, and on other festive occasions, to which an allusion is probably made in the same scene. Formerly, at this season, the head of the house assembled his family around a bowl of spiced ale, from which he drank their healths, then passed it to the rest, that they might drink too. The word that passed among them was the ancient Saxon phrase wass hael⁶⁹⁷, i. e., to your health. Hence this came to be recognized as the wassail or wassel bowl; and was the accompaniment to festivity of every kind throughout the year. Thus Hamlet (i. 4) says:

 
“The king doth wake to-night, and takes his rouse,
Keeps wassail.”
 

And in “Love’s Labour’s Lost” (v. 2), Biron speaks of:

 
“wakes and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs.”
 

In “Macbeth” (i. 7), it is used by Lady Macbeth in the sense of intemperance, who, speaking of Duncan’s two chamberlains, says:

 
“Will I with wine and wassail so convince,
That memory, the warder of the brain,
Shall be a fume, and the receipt of reason
A limbeck only.”
 

In “Antony and Cleopatra” (i. 4), Cæsar advises Antony to live more temperately, and to leave his “lascivious wassails.”⁶⁹⁸

In the same way, a “wassail candle” denoted a large candle lighted up at a festival, a reference to which occurs in “2 Henry IV.” (i. 2):