and Παντα stand precisely in the same relation to ερεω that εκ does in the first, Αλλ' merely taking the place of δε, for the sake of versification.
"But one thing I tell thee.
And another thing I tell thee.
But this thing I tell thee.
And all things I tell thee."
It is not impossible that εξερεω may be a compound of εκ, "one," and ερεω, "I speak." There is in the Hindostanee an analogous form of expression, Ek bat bolo, "one word speak." This is constantly used to denote, speaking plainly; to speak decidedly; one word only; no display of unnecessary verbiage to conceal thought; no humbug; I tell thee plainly; I speak solemnly—once for all; which is precisely the meaning of εξερεω in all the passages where it occurs in Homer: e.g. Il. i. 212. (where it is employed by Minerva in her solemn address to Achilles); Il. viii. 286., Od. ix. 365. (where it is very characteristically used), &c.
The word ace (ace of spades, &c.) I suppose you will have no difficulty in identifying with the Sanscrit ek and the Greek εις, the c sometimes pronounced hard and sometimes soft. The Sanscrit das, the Greek δεκ-α, and the Latin dec-em, all signifying ten, on the same principle, have been long identified.
SAMUEL ROWLANDS, AND HIS CLAIM TO THE AUTHORSHIP OF "THE CHOISE OF CHANGE."
Mr. T. Jones in "NOTES AND QUERIES" (Vol. i., p. 39.), describing a copy of The Choise of Change in the Chetham Library, unhesitatingly ascribes its authorship to the well-known satirist, Samuel Rowlands, whom he says, "appears to have been a Welshman from his love of Triads." Mr. JONES'S dictum, that the letters "S.R.," on the title-page "are the well-known initials of Samuel Rowlands," may well, I think, be questioned. Great caution should be used in these matters. Bibliographers and catalogue-makers are constantly making confusion by assigning works, which bear the initials only, to wrong authors.
The Choise of Change may with much more probability be given to a very different author. I have a copy of the edition of 1598 now before me, in which the name is filled up, in a cotemporary hand, S[imon], R[obson]. And I find in Lowndes' Bibliographer's Manual, that the work in question is entered under the latter name. The compiler adds,—"This piece is by some attributed to Dr. Simon Robson, Dean of Bristol in 1598; by others, most probably erroneously, to Samuel Rowland." An examination of the biography of Dr. Robson, who died in 1617, might tend to elucidate some particulars concerning his claim to the authorship of this and several other works of similar character.
Samuel Rowland's earliest publication is supposed to have been The Betraying of Christ, &c., printed in 1598. If it can be proved that he has any claim to The Choise of Change (first printed in 1585), we make him an author thirteen years earlier. In the title-page of the latter, the writer, whoever he was, is styled "Gent and Student in the Universitie of Cambridge." This is a fact of some importance towards the elucidation of authorship and has, I believe, escaped the notice of those writers who have touched upon Samuel Rowland's scanty biography. But I can hardly conceive that either of the publications above alluded to came from the same pen as Humours Ordinarie, Martin Mark-all, The Four Knaves, and many others of the same class, which are known to have been the productions of Samuel Rowlands.
Respecting Samuel Rowlands it may be regarded as extraordinary that no account has been discovered; and though his pamphlets almost rival in number those of Greene, Taylor, and Prynne, their prefaces—those fruitful sources of information—throw no light upon the life or circumstances of their author. The late Mr. Octavius Gilchrist considered that "Rowlands was an ecclesiastic [?] by profession;" and, inferring his zeal in the pulpit from his labours through the press, adds, "it should seem that he was an active servant of the church." (See Fry's Bibliographical Memoranda, p. 257.) Sir Walter Scott (Preface to his reprint of The Letting of Humours Blood in the Head Vaine) gives us a very different idea of the nature of his calling. His words are:
"Excepting that he lived and wrote, none of those industrious antiquaries have pointed out any particulars respecting Rowland[s]. It has been remarked that his muse is seldom found in the best company; and to have become so well acquainted with the bullies, drunkards, gamesters, and cheats, whom he describes, he must have frequented the haunts of dissipation in which such characters are to be found. But the humorous descriptions of low-life exhibited in his satires are more precious to antiquaries than more grave works, and those who make the manners of Shakspeare's age the subject their study may better spare a better author than Samuel Rowlands."
The opinions of both these writers are entitled to some respect, but they certainly looked upon two very different sides of the question. Gilchrist's conjecture that he was an ecclesiastic is quite untenable, and I am fully inclined to agree with Sir Walter Scott, that Rowlands' company was not of the most select order, and that he must often have frequented those "haunts of dissipation" which he so well describes in those works which are the known production of his muse.
"APRICOT," "PEACH," AND "NECTARINE," ETYMOLOGY OF
There is something curious in the etymology of the words "apricot," "peach," and "nectarine," and in their equivalents in several languages, which may amuse your readers.
The apricot is an Armenian or Persian fruit, and was known to the Romans later than the peach. It is spoken of by Pliny and by Martial.
Plin. N.H., lib. xv. c. 12.:
"Post autumnum maturescunt Persica, æstate præcocia, intra xxx annos reperta."
Martial, lib. xiii. Epig. 46.:
"Vilia maternis fueramus præcoqua ramis,
Nunc in adaptivis Persica care sumus."
Its only name was given from its ripening earlier than the peach.
The words used in Galen for the same fruit (evidently Græcised Latin), are προκοκκια and πρεκοκκια. Elsewhere he says of this fruit, ταυτης εκλελειφθαι το παλαιον ονομα. Dioscorides, with a nearer approach to the Latin, calls apricots πραικοκια.
From præcox, though not immediately, apricot seems to be derived.
Johnson, unable to account for the initial a, derives it from apricus. The American lexicographer Webster gives, strangely enough albus coccus as its derivation.
The progress of the word from west to east, and then from east to south-west, and from thence northwards, and its various changes in that progress, are rather strange.
One would have supposed that the Arabs, living near the region of which the fruit was a native, might have either had a name of their own for it, or at least have borrowed one from Armenia. But they apparently adopted a slight variation of the Latin, το παλαιον ονομα, as Galen says, εξελελειπτω.
The Arabs called it برقوق or, with the article, البرقوق.
The Spaniards must have had the fruit in Martial's time, but they do not take the name immediately from the Latin, but through the Arabic, and call it albaricoque. The Italians, again, copy the Spanish, not the Latin, and call it albicocco. The French, from them, have abricot. The English, though they take their word from the French, at first called it abricock, then apricock (restoring the p), and lastly, with the French termination, apricot.
From malum persicum was derived the German Pfirsiche, and Pfirsche, whence come the French pêche, and our peach. But in this instance also, the Spaniards follow the Arabic بريشان, or, with the article البريشان, in their word alberchigo. The Arabic seems to be derived from the Latin, and the Persians, though the fruit was their own, give it the same name.
Johnson