Folk-lore of Shakespeare Part 28

In this case the cap was the scarlet hat of the cardinal, which it was intended to use as a piece of red cloth. The same idea occurs in Skelton's "Why Come Ye not to Court?" a satire on Wolsey:

"The red hat with his lure Bringeth all things under cure."

The words "tirra-lirra" ("Winter's Tale," iv. 3) are a fanciful combination of sounds,[262] meant to imitate the lark's note; borrowed, says Nares, from the French _tire-lire_. Browne, "British Pastorals"

(bk. i. song 4), makes it "teery-leery." In one of the Coventry pageants there is the following old song sung by the shepherds at the birth of Christ, which contains the expression:

"As I out rode this endenes night, Of three joli sheppards I sawe a syght, And all aboute there fold a stare shone bright, They sang terli terlow, So mereli the sheppards their pipes can blow."

[262] Nares's "Glossary," vol. ii. p. 886; Douce's "Ill.u.s.trations of Shakespeare," 1839, p. 217.

In Scotland[263] and the north of England the peasantry say that if one is desirous of knowing what the lark says, he must lie down on his back in the field and listen, and he will then hear it say:

"Up in the lift go we, Tehee, tehee, tehee, tehee!

There's not a shoemaker on the earth Can make a shoe to me, to me!

Why so, why so, why so?

Because my heel is as long as my toe."

[263] Chambers's "Popular Rhymes of Scotland," 1870, p. 192.

_Magpie._ It was formerly known as magot-pie, probably from the French _magot_, a monkey, because the bird chatters and plays droll tricks like a monkey. It has generally been regarded with superst.i.tious awe as a mysterious bird,[264] and is thus alluded to in "Macbeth" (iii. 4):

"Augurs and understood relations, have By magot-pies, and choughs, and rooks, brought forth The secret'st man of blood."

[264] See "English Folk-Lore," p. 81.

And again, in "3 Henry VI." (v. 6), it is said:

"chattering pies in dismal discords sung."

There are numerous rhymes[265] relating to the magpie, of which we subjoin, as a specimen, one prevalent in the north of England:

"One is sorrow, two mirth, Three a wedding, four a birth, Five heaven, six h.e.l.l, Seven the de'il's ain sell."

[265] Henderson's "Folk-Lore of Northern Counties," p. 127.

In Devonshire, in order to avert the ill-luck from seeing a magpie, the peasant spits over his right shoulder three times, and in Yorkshire various charms are in use. One is to raise the hat as a salutation, and then to sign the cross on the breast; and another consists in making the same sign by crossing the thumbs. It is a common notion in Scotland that magpies flying near the windows of a house portend a speedy death to one of its inmates. The superst.i.tions a.s.sociated with the magpie are not confined to this country, for in Sweden[266] it is considered the witch's bird, belonging to the evil one and the other powers of night.

In Denmark, when a magpie perches on a house it is regarded as a sign that strangers are coming.

[266] Thorpe's "Northern Mythology," vol. ii. p. 34; Brand's "Pop. Antiq.," 1849, pp. 215, 216; see also Harland and Wilkinson's "Lancashire Folk-Lore," 1867, pp. 143, 145.

_Martin._ The martin, or martlet, which is called in "Macbeth" (i. 6) the "guest of summer," as being a migratory bird, has been from the earliest times treated with superst.i.tious respect-it being considered unlucky to molest or in any way injure its nest. Thus, in the "Merchant of Venice" (ii. 9), the Prince of Arragon says:

"the martlet Builds in the weather, on the outward wall, Even in the force and road of casualty."

Forster[267] says that the circ.u.mstance of this bird's nest being built so close to the habitations of man indicates that it has long enjoyed freedom from molestation. There is a popular rhyme still current in the north of England:

"The martin and the swallow Are G.o.d Almighty's bow and arrow."

[267] "Atmospherical Researches," 1823, p. 262.

_Nightingale._ The popular error that the nightingale sings with its breast impaled upon a thorn is noticed by Shakespeare, who makes Lucrece say:

"And whiles against a thorn thou bear'st thy part To keep thy sharp woes waking."

In the "Pa.s.sionate Pilgrim" (xxi.) there is an allusion:

"Everything did banish moan, Save the nightingale alone.

She, poor bird, as all forlorn, Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn, And there sung the dolefull'st ditty, That to hear it was great pity."

Beaumont and Fletcher, in "The Faithful Shepherdess" (v. 3), speak of

"The nightingale among the thick-leaved spring, That sits alone in sorrow, and doth sing Whole nights away in mourning."

Sir Thomas Browne[268] asks "Whether the nightingale's sitting with her breast against a thorn be any more than that she placeth some p.r.i.c.kles on the outside of her nest, or roosteth in th.o.r.n.y, p.r.i.c.kly places, where serpents may least approach her?"[269] In the "Zoologist" for 1862 the Rev. A. C. Smith mentions "the discovery, on two occasions, of a strong thorn projecting upwards in the centre of the nightingale's nest."

Another notion is that the nightingale never sings by day; and thus Portia, in "Merchant of Venice" (v. 1), says:

"I think, The nightingale, if she should sing by day, When every goose is cackling, would be thought No better a musician than the wren."

[268] Sir Thomas Browne's Works, 1852, vol. i. p. 378.

[269] See "Book of Days," vol. i. p. 515.

Such, however, is not the case, for this bird often sings as sweetly in the day as at night-time. There is an old superst.i.tion[270] that the nightingale sings all night, to keep itself awake, lest the glow-worm should devour her. The cla.s.sical fable[271] of the unhappy Philomela turned into a nightingale, when her sister Progne was changed to a swallow, has doubtless given rise to this bird being spoken of as _she_; thus Juliet tells Romeo (iii. 5):

"It was the nightingale, and not the lark, That pierc'd the fearful hollow of thine ear; Nightly she sings on yon pomegranate tree; Believe me, love, it was the nightingale."

[270] Southey's "Commonplace Book." 5th series. 1851, p. 305.

[271] Ovid's "Metamorphoses," bk. vi. ll. 455-676; "t.i.tus Andronicus," iv. 1.

Sometimes the nightingale is termed Philomel, as in "Midsummer-Night's Dream" (ii. 2, song):[272]

"Philomel, with melody, Sing in our sweet lullaby."

[272] Cf. "Lucrece," ll. 1079, 1127.

_Osprey._ This bird,[273] also called the sea-eagle, besides having a destructive power of devouring fish, was supposed formerly to have a fascinating influence, both which qualities are alluded to in the following pa.s.sage in "Coriola.n.u.s" (iv. 7):

"I think he'll be to Rome, As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it By sovereignty of nature."

[273] See Yarrell's "History of British Birds," 1856, vol. i.

p. 30; Nares's "Glossary," vol. ii. p. 620; also Pennant's "British Zoology;" see Peele's Play of the "Battle of Alcazar"

(ii. 3), 1861, p. 28.

Drayton, in his "Polyolbion" (song xxv.), mentions the same fascinating power of the osprey:

"The osprey, oft here seen, though seldom here it breeds, Which over them the fish no sooner do espy, But, betwixt him and them by an antipathy, Turning their bellies up, as though their death they saw, They at his pleasure lie, to stuff his gluttonous maw."