Dyer Thomas Firminger Thiselton

Folk-lore of Shakespeare


Скачать книгу

in his “Eclogues” (viii. 75), says:

      “Numero deus impare gaudet.”

      The belief in the luck of odd numbers is noticed by Falstaff in the “Merry Wives of Windsor” (v. 1):

      “They say there is divinity in odd numbers, either in nativity, chance, or death!”

      In “King Lear” (iv. 2) when the Duke of Albany tells Goneril,

      “She that herself will sliver and disbranch

      From her material sap, perforce must wither

      And come to deadly use” —

      he alludes to the use that witches and enchanters were commonly supposed to make of withered branches in their charms.70

      Among other items of witch-lore mentioned by Shakespeare may be noticed the common belief in the intercourse between demons and witches, to which Prospero alludes in the “Tempest” (i. 2):

      “Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself

      Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!”

      This notion is seriously refuted by Scot in his “Discovery of Witchcraft” (book iv.), where he shows it to be “flat knavery.”

      The offspring of a witch was termed “Hag-seed,” and as such is spoken of by Prospero in the “Tempest” (i. 2).

      Witches were also in the habit of saying their prayers backwards: a practice to which Hero refers in “Much Ado About Nothing” (iii. 1), where, speaking of Beatrice, she says:

      “I never yet saw man,

      How wise, how noble, young, how rarely featured,

      But she would spell him backward.”

      Familiar spirits71 attending on magicians and witches were always impatient of confinement.72 So in the “Tempest” (i. 2) we find an illustration of this notion in the following dialogue:

      “Prospero. What is’t thou canst demand?

      Ariel. My liberty.

      Prospero. Before the time be out? No more.”

      Lastly, the term “Aroint thee” (“Macbeth,” i. 3), used by the first witch, occurs again in “King Lear” (iii. 4), “Aroint thee, witch, aroint thee.” That aroint is equivalent to “away,” “begone,” seems to be agreed, though its etymology is uncertain.73 “Rynt thee” is used by milkmaids in Cheshire to a cow, when she has been milked, to bid her get out of the way. Ray, in his “Collection of North Country Words” (1768, p. 52), gives “Rynt ye, by your leave, stand handsomely, as rynt you witch, quoth Bessie Locket to her mother. Proverb, Chesh.” Some connect it with the adverb “aroume,” meaning “abroad,” found in Chaucer’s “House of Fame” (book ii. stanza 32):

      “That I a-roume was in the field.”

      Other derivations are from the Latin averrunco: the Italian rogna, a cutaneous disease, etc.

      How thoroughly Shakespeare was acquainted with the system of witchcraft is evident from the preceding pages, in which we have noticed his allusions to most of the prominent forms of this species of superstition. Many other items of witch-lore, however, are referred to by him, mention of which is made in succeeding chapters.74

      CHAPTER III

      GHOSTS

      Few subjects have, from time immemorial, possessed a wider interest than ghosts, and the superstitions associated with them in this and other countries form an extensive collection in folk-lore literature. In Shakespeare’s day, it would seem that the belief in ghosts was specially prevalent, and ghost tales were told by the firelight in nearly every household. The young, as Mr. Goadby, in his “England of Shakespeare,” says (1881, p. 196), “were thus touched by the prevailing superstitions in their most impressionable years. They looked for the incorporeal creatures of whom they had heard, and they were quick to invest any trick of moonbeam shadow with the attributes of the supernatural.” A description of one of these tale-tellings is given in the “Winter’s Tale” (ii. 1):

      “Her. What wisdom stirs amongst you? Come, sir, now

      I am for you again: pray you, sit by us,

      And tell’s a tale.

      Mam. Merry or sad shall’t be?

      Her. As merry as you will.

      Mam. A sad tale’s best for winter:

      I have one of sprites and goblins.

      Her. Let’s have that, good sir.

      Come on, sit down: Come on, and do your best

      To fright me with your sprites: you’re powerful at it.

      Mam. There was a man, —

      Her. Nay, come, sit down; then on.

      Mam. Dwelt by a churchyard: I will tell it softly;

      Yond crickets shall not hear it.

      Her. Come on, then,

      And give’t me in mine ear.”

      The important part which Shakespeare has assigned to the ghost in “Hamlet” has a special value, inasmuch as it illustrates many of the old beliefs current in his day respecting their history and habits. Thus, according to a popular notion, ghosts are generally supposed to assume the exact appearance by which they were usually known when in the material state, even to the smallest detail of their dress. So Horatio tells Hamlet how, when Marcellus and Bernardo were on their watch (i. 2),

      “A figure like your father,

      Arm’d at point, exactly, cap-a-pe,

      Appears before them, and with solemn march

      Goes slow and stately by them.”

      Further on, when the ghost appears again, Hamlet addresses it thus:

      “What may this mean,

      That thou, dead corse, again, in complete steel,

      Revisit’st thus the glimpses of the moon,

      Making night hideous.”

      In the graphic description of Banquo’s ghost in “Macbeth” (iii. 4), we have a further allusion to the same belief; one, indeed, which is retained at the present day with as much faith as in days of old.

      Shakespeare has several allusions to the notion which prevailed in days gone by, of certain persons being able to exorcise or raise spirits. Thus, in “Cymbeline” (iv. 2), Guiderius says over Fidele’s grave:

      “No exorciser harm thee.”

      In “Julius Cæsar” (ii. 1), Ligarius says:

      “Soul of Rome!

      Brave son, derived from honourable loins!

      Thou, like an exorcist, hast conjured up

      My mortified spirit. Now bid me run,

      And I will strive with things impossible;

      Yea, get the better of them.”

      In “All’s Well that Ends Well” (v. 3) the king says:

      “Is there no exorcist

      Beguiles the truer office of mine eyes?

      Is’t real that I see?”

      This superstition, it may be added, has of late years gained additional notoriety since