Folk-lore of Shakespeare Part 24

The conscious superiority[210] of the eagle is depicted by Tamora in "t.i.tus Andronicus" (iv. 4):

"The eagle suffers little birds to sing, And is not careful what they mean thereby, Knowing that with the shadow of his wing, He can at pleasure stint their melody."

[210] Harting's "Ornithology of Shakespeare," p. 33.

_Goose._ This bird was the subject[211] of many quaint proverbial phrases often used in the old popular writers. Thus, a _tailor's goose_ was a jocular name for his pressing-iron, probably from its being often roasting before the fire, an allusion to which occurs in "Macbeth" (ii.

3): "come in, tailor; here you may roast your goose." The "wild-goose chase," which is mentioned in "Romeo and Juliet" (ii. 4)-"Nay, if thy wits run the wild-goose chase, I have done"-was a kind of horse-race, which resembled the flight of wild geese. Two horses were started together, and whichever rider could get the lead, the other was obliged to follow him over whatever ground the foremost jockey chose to go. That horse which could distance the other won the race. This reckless sport is mentioned by Burton, in his "Anatomy of Melancholy," as a recreation much in vogue in his time among gentlemen. The term "Winchester goose"

was a cant phrase for a certain venereal disease, because the stews in Southwark were under the jurisdiction of the Bishop of Winchester, to whom Gloster tauntingly applies the term in the following pa.s.sage ("1 Henry VI.," i. 3):

"Winchester goose! I cry-a rope! a rope!"

[211] Nares's "Glossary," vol. i. p. 378.

In "Troilus and Cressida" (v. 10) there is a further allusion:

"Some galled goose of Winchester would hiss."

Ben Jonson[212] calls it:

"the Winchestrian goose, Bred on the banke in time of Popery, When Venus there maintain'd the mystery."

[212] "Execration against Vulcan," 1640, p. 37.

"Plucking geese" was formerly a barbarous sport of boys ("Merry Wives of Windsor," v. 1), which consisted in stripping a living goose of its feathers.[213]

[213] Singer's "Notes," 1875, vol. i. p. 283.

In "Coriola.n.u.s" (i. 4), the goose is spoken of as the emblem of cowardice. Marcius says:

"You souls of geese, That bear the shapes of men, how have you run From slaves that apes would beat!"

_Goldfinch._ The Warwickshire name[214] for this bird is "Proud Tailor,"

to which, some commentators think, the words in "1 Henry IV." (iii. 1) refer:

"_Lady P._ I will not sing.

_Hotsp._ 'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or be red-breast teacher."

[214] See "Archaeologia," vol. iii. p. 33.

It has, therefore, been suggested that the pa.s.sage should be read thus: "'Tis the next way to turn tailor, or red-breast teacher," _i. e._, "to turn teacher of goldfinches or redb.r.e.a.s.t.s."[215] Singer,[216] however, explains the words thus: "Tailors, like weavers, have ever been remarkable for their vocal skill. Percy is jocular in his mode of persuading his wife to sing; and this is a humorous turn which he gives to his argument, 'Come, sing.' 'I will not sing.' ''Tis the next [_i.

e._, the readiest, nearest] way to turn tailor, or redbreast teacher'-the meaning being, to sing is to put yourself upon a level with tailors and teachers of birds."

[215] Nares's "Glossary," vol. ii. p. 693. Some think that the bullfinch is meant.

[216] Singer's "Notes," 1875, vol. v. p. 82; see Dyce's "Glossary," p. 433.

_Gull._ Shakespeare often uses this word as synonymous with fool. Thus in "Henry V." (iii. 6) he says:

"Why, 'tis a gull, a fool."

The same play upon the word occurs in "Oth.e.l.lo" (v. 2), and in "Timon of Athens" (ii. 1). In "Twelfth Night" (v. 1) Malvolio asks:

"Why have you suffer'd me to be imprison'd, Kept in a dark house, visited by the priest, And made the most notorious geck and gull That e'er invention played on? tell me why."

It is also used to express a trick or imposition, as in "Much Ado About Nothing" (ii. 3): "I should think this a gull, but that the white-bearded fellow speaks it."[217] "Gull-catchers," or "gull-gropers," to which reference is made in "Twelfth Night" (ii. 5), where Fabian, on the entry of Maria, exclaims: "Here comes my n.o.ble gull-catcher," were the names by which sharpers[218] were known in Shakespeare's time.[219] The "gull-catcher" was generally an old usurer, who lent money to a gallant at an ordinary, who had been unfortunate in play.[220] Decker devotes a chapter to this character in his "Lanthorne and Candle-light," 1612. According to him, "the gull-groper is commonly an old mony-monger, who having travailed through all the follyes of the world in his youth, knowes them well, and shunnes them in his age, his whole felicitie being to fill his bags with golde and silver." The person so duped was termed a gull, and the trick also.

In that disputed pa.s.sage in "The Tempest" (ii. 2), where Caliban, addressing Trinculo, says:

"sometimes I'll get thee Young scamels from the rock."

some think that the sea-mew, or sea-gull, is intended,[221] sea-mall, or sea-mell, being still a provincial name for this bird. Mr. Stevenson, in his "Birds of Norfolk" (vol. ii. p. 260), tells us that "the female bar-tailed G.o.dwit is called a 'scammell' by the gunners of Blakeney. But as this bird is not a rock-breeder,[222] it cannot be the one intended in the present pa.s.sage, if we regard it as an accurate description from a naturalist's point of view." Holt says that "scam" is a limpet, and scamell probably a diminutive. Mr. Dyce[223] reads "scamels," _i. e._, the kestrel, stannel, or windhover, which breeds in rocky situations and high cliffs on our coasts. He also further observes that this accords well with the context "from the rock," and adds that staniel or stannyel occurs in "Twelfth Night" (ii. 5), where all the old editions exhibit the gross misprint "stallion."

[217] Some doubt exists as to the derivation of _gull_. Nares says it is from the old French _guiller_. Tooke holds that gull, guile, wile, and guilt are all from the Anglo-Saxon "wiglian, gewiglian," that by which any one is deceived.

Harting's "Ornithology of Shakespeare," p. 267.

[218] See D'Israeli's "Curiosities of Literature," vol. iii. p. 84.

[219] See Thornbury's "Shakespeare's England," vol. i. pp. 311-322.

[220] Nares's "Glossary," vol. i. p. 394.

[221] Harting's "Ornithology of Shakespeare," p. 269.

[222] Aldis Wright's "Notes to 'The Tempest'," 1875, pp. 120, 121.

[223] See Dyce's "Shakespeare," vol. i. p. 245.

_Hawk._ The diversion of catching game with hawks was very popular in Shakespeare's time,[224] and hence, as might be expected, we find many scattered allusions to it throughout his plays. The training of a hawk for the field was an essential part of the education of a young Saxon n.o.bleman; and the present of a well-trained hawk was a gift to be welcomed by a king. Edward the Confessor spent much of his leisure time in either hunting or hawking; and in the reign of Edward III. we read how the Bishop of Ely attended the service of the church at Bermondsey, Southwark, leaving his hawk in the cloister, which in the meantime was stolen-the bishop solemnly excommunicating the thieves. On one occasion Henry VIII. met with a serious accident when pursuing his hawk at Hitchin, in Hertfordshire. In jumping over a ditch his pole broke, and he fell headlong into the muddy water, whence he was with some difficulty rescued by one of his followers. Sir Thomas More, writing in the reign of Henry VIII., describing the state of manhood, makes a young man say:

"Man-hod I am, therefore I me delyght To hunt and hawke, to nourish up and fede The greyhounde to the course, the hawke to th' flight, And to bestryde a good and l.u.s.ty stede."

[224] See Strutt's "Sports and Pastimes," 1876, pp. 60-97, and "Book of Days," 1863, vol. ii. pp. 211-213; Smith's "Festivals, Games, and Amus.e.m.e.nts," 1831, p. 174.

In noticing, then, Shakespeare's allusions to this sport, we have a good insight into its various features, and also gain a knowledge of the several terms a.s.sociated with it. Thus frequent mention is made of the word "haggard"-a wild, untrained hawk-and in the following allegory ("Taming of the Shrew," iv. 1), where it occurs, much of the knowledge of falconry is comprised:

"My falcon now is sharp, and pa.s.sing empty; And, till she stoop, she must not be full-gorged,[225]

For then she never looks upon her lure.

Another way I have to man my haggard, To make her come, and know her keeper's call; That is, to watch her, as we watch these kites That bate, and beat, and will not be obedient.

She eat no meat to-day, nor none shall eat; Last night she slept not, nor to-night she shall not."[226]

[225] "A hawk full-fed was untractable, and refused the lure-the lure being a thing stuffed to look like the game the hawk was to pursue; its lure was to tempt him back after he had flown."

[226] In the same play (iv. 2) Hortensio describes Bianca as "this proud disdainful haggard." See Dyce's "Glossary," p. 197; Cotgrave's "French and English Dictionary," sub. "Hagard;" and Latham's "Falconry," etc., 1658.

Further allusions occur in "Twelfth Night" (iii. 1), where Viola says of the Clown:

"This fellow is wise enough to play the fool; And to do that well craves a kind of wit: He must observe their mood on whom he jests, The quality of persons, and the time; And, like the haggard, check at every feather That comes before his eye."

In "Much Ado About Nothing" (iii. 1), Hero, speaking of Beatrice, says that: