Folk-lore of Shakespeare Part 107

MISCELLANEOUS CUSTOMS, ETC.

_Badge of Poverty._ In the reign of William III., those who received parish relief had to wear a badge. It was the letter P, with the initial of the parish to which they belonged, in red or blue cloth, on the shoulder of the right sleeve. In "2 Henry VI." (v. 1) Clifford says:

"Might I but know thee by thy household badge."

_Bedfellow._ A proof of the simplicity of manners in olden times is evidenced by the fact that it was customary for men, even of the highest rank, to sleep together. In "Henry V." (ii. 2) Exeter says:

"Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow, Whom he hath dull'd and cloy'd with gracious favours."

"This unseemly custom," says Malone, "continued common till the middle of the last century, if not later." Beaumont and Fletcher, in the "c.o.xcomb" (i. 1), thus refer to it:

"Must we, that have so long time been as one, Seen cities, countries, kingdoms, and their wonders, Been bedfellows, and in our various journey Mixt all our observations."

In the same way, letters from n.o.blemen to each other often began with the appellation _bedfellow_.[961]

[961] Nares's "Glossary," vol. i. p. 68.

_Curfew Bell_, which is generally supposed to be of Norman origin, is still rung in some of our old country villages, although it has long lost its significance. It seems to have been as important to ghosts as to living men, it being their signal for walking, a license which apparently lasted till the first c.o.c.k. Fairies, too, and other spirits, were under the same regulations; and hence Prospero, in "The Tempest"

(v. 1), says of his elves that they

"rejoice To hear the solemn curfew."

In "King Lear" (iii. 4) we find the fiend Flibbertigibbet obeying the same rule, for Edgar says: "This is the foul fiend Flibbertigibbet; he begins at curfew, and walks till the first c.o.c.k."

In "Measure for Measure" (iv. 2) we find another allusion:

"_Duke._ The best and wholesom'st spirits of the night Envelope you, good provost! Who call'd here of late?

_Provost._ None, since the curfew rung."

And, once more, in "Romeo and Juliet" (iv. 4), Capulet says:

"Come, stir, stir, stir! the second c.o.c.k hath crow'd, The curfew bell hath rung, 'tis three o'clock."[962]

[962] See Brand's "Pop. Antiq.," 1849, vol. iii. pp. 220-225; also, Harland and Wilkinson's "Lancashire Folk-Lore," 1867, p. 44.

_Sacring Bell._ This was a bell which rang for processions and other holy ceremonies.[963] It is mentioned in "Henry VIII." (iii. 2), by the Earl of Surrey:

"I'll startle you Worse than the sacring bell."

[963] Dyce's "Glossary," p. 379.

It is rung in the Romish Church to give notice that the "Host" is approaching, and is now called "Sanctus bell," from the words "Sanctus, Sanctus, Sanctus Dominus Deus Sabaoth," p.r.o.nounced by the priest.

On the graphic pa.s.sage where Macbeth (ii. 1) says:

"The bell invites me.

Hear it not, Duncan; for it is a knell That summons thee to heaven or to h.e.l.l"-

Malone has this note: "Thus Raleigh, speaking of love, in England's 'Helicon' (1600):

"'It is perhaps that sauncing bell That toules all into heaven or h.e.l.l.'"

_Sauncing_ being probably a mistake for sacring or saint's bell, originally, perhaps, written "saintis bell." In "Hudibras" we find:

"The old saintis bell that rings all in."

_Carpet-knights._ These were knights dubbed at court by mere favor, and not on the field of battle, for their military exploits. In "Twelfth Night" (iii. 4), Sir Toby defines one of them thus: "He is knight, dubbed with unhatched rapier, and on carpet consideration."

A "trencher knight" was probably synonymous, as in "Love's Labour's Lost" (v. 2):

"Some mumble-news, some trencher-knight, some d.i.c.k."

These carpet-knights were sometimes called "knights of the green cloth."[964]

[964] See Douce's "Ill.u.s.trations of Shakespeare," pp. 65, 66.

_Chair Days._ Days of old age and infirmity. So, in "2 Henry VI." (v.

2), young Clifford, on seeing his dead father, says:

"Wast thou ordain'd, dear father, To lose thy youth in peace, and to achieve The silver livery of advised age, And, in thy reverence, and thy chair-days, thus To die in ruffian battle?"

_Chivalry._ The expression "sworn brothers," which Shakespeare several times employs, refers to the "fratres jurati," who, in the days of chivalry, mutually bound themselves by oath to share each other's fortune. Thus, Falstaff says of Shallow, in "2 Henry IV." (iii. 2): "He talks as familiarly of John o' Gaunt as if he had been sworn brother to him." In "Henry V." (ii. 1), Bardolph says: "we'll be all three sworn brothers to France." In course of time it was used in a laxer sense, to denote intimacy, as in "Much Ado About Nothing" (i. 1), where Beatrice says of Bened.i.c.k, that "He hath every month a new sworn brother."[965]

[965] We may compare, too, what Coriola.n.u.s says (ii. 3): "I will, sir, flatter my sworn brother, the people."

According to the laws of chivalry, a person of superior birth might not be challenged by an inferior; or, if challenged, might refuse combat, a reference to which seems to be made by Cleopatra ("Antony and Cleopatra," ii. 4):

"I will not hurt him.- These hands do lack n.o.bility, that they strike A meaner than myself."

Again, in "Troilus and Cressida" (v. 4), the same practice is alluded to by Hector, who asks Thersites:

"What art thou, Greek? art thou for Hector's match?

Art thou of blood and honour?"

Singer quotes from "Melville's Memoirs" (1735, p. 165): "The Laird of Grange offered to fight Bothwell, who answered that he was not his equal. The like answer made he to Tullibardine. Then my Lord Lindsay offered to fight him, which he could not well refuse; but his heart failed him, and he grew cold on the business."

_Clubs._ According to Malone, it was once a common custom, on the breaking-out of a fray, to call out "Clubs, clubs!" to part the combatants. Thus, in "1 Henry VI." (i. 3), the Mayor declares:

"I'll call for clubs, if you will not away."

In "t.i.tus Andronicus" (ii. 1), Aaron says:

"Clubs, clubs! these lovers will not keep the peace."

"Clubs," too, "was originally the popular cry to call forth the London apprentices, who employed their clubs for the preservation of the public peace. Sometimes, however, they used those weapons to raise a disturbance, as they are described doing in the following pa.s.sage in 'Henry VIII.' (v. 4): 'I miss'd the meteor once, and hit that woman; who cried out 'Clubs!' when I might see from far some forty truncheoners draw to her succour, which were the hope o' the Strand, where she was quartered.'"[966]

[966] Cf. "Romeo and Juliet," i. 1; "As You Like It," v. 2.