hour of Sunday, which is similarly subject to Venus, the twenty-fourth or last hour belonging to Mercury, the planet intermediate between Venus and the Moon. It is on this account that Palamon is said to have prayed to Venus in her hour.
Arcite's vows were made later in the day than those of Palamon and Emelie. We are told that
"The nexte hour of Mars following this,"
(namely after Emelie's return from the temple of Diana)
"Arcite unto the temple walked is
Of fierce Mars."
The first hour of Mars is on Monday, the fourth hour of the day; so that as the tournament took place in April or May, Arcite went to the temple of Mars about eight or nine o'clock.
It may be well to explain the word "inequal" in the lines—
"The thridde hour inequal that Palamon
Began to Venus temple for to gon,
Up rose the sonne, and up rose Emelie."
In astrology, the heavens are divided into twelve houses, corresponding to a division of the ecliptic into twelve equal parts, the first of which is measured from the point of the ecliptic which is on the horizon and about to rise above it, at the instant which the astrologer has to consider, namely, the instant of birth in the case of a nativity, or that in which a journey or any other enterprise is undertaken.
The hours inequal here spoken of similarly correspond to a division of the ecliptic into twenty-four parts, so that each house comprehends the portions of the ecliptic belonging to two of these hours, provided the division into houses is made at sunrise, when the first hour commences. It is obvious that these astrological hours will be of unequal length, as equal portions of the ecliptic subtend unequal angles at the pole of the equator.
With regard to the time of year at which the tournament takes place, there seems to be an inconsistency. Palamon escapes from prison on the 3rd of May, and is discovered by Theseus on the 5th. Theseus fixes "this day fifty wekes" for the rendezvous at Athens, so that the tournament seems to fall in April. Chaucer, however, says that—
"Gret was the feste in Athenes thilke day,
And eke the lusty seson of that May
Made every wight to be, in swiche pleasance," &c.
Why the 3rd of May is particularly mentioned as the time of Palamon's escape, I cannot tell: there is probably some astrological reason. The mixture of astrological notions with mythology is curious: "the pale Saturnus the colde" is once more a dweller on Olympus, and interposes to reconcile Mars and Venus. By his influence Arcite is made to perish after having obtained from Mars the fulfilment of his prayer—
"Yeve me the victorie, I axe thee no more."
FOLK LORE
"Snail, Snail, come out of your Hole."—In Surrey, and most probably in other counties where shell-snails abound, children amuse themselves by charming them with a chant to put forth their horns, of which I have only heard the following couplet, which is repeated until it has the desired effect, to the great amusement of the charmer.
"Snail, snail, come out of your hole,
Or else I'll beat you as black as a coal."
It is pleasant to find that this charm is not peculiar to English children, but prevails in places as remote from each other as Naples and Silesia.
The Silesian rhyme is:
"Schnecke, schnecke, schnürre!
Zeig mir dein viere,
Wenn mir dein viere nicht zeigst,
Schmeisz ich dich in den Graben,
Fressen dich die Raben;"
which may be thus paraphrased:
"Snail, snail, slug-slow,
To me thy four horns show;
If thou dost not show me thy four,
I will throw thee out of the door,
For the crow in the gutter,
To eat for bread and butter."
In that amusing Folk's-book of Neapolitan childish tales, the Pentamerone of the noble Count-Palatine Cavalier Giovan-Battista Basile, in the seventeenth tale, entitled "La Palomma," we have a similar rhyme:
"Jesce, jesce, corna;
Ça mammata te scorna,
Te scorna 'ncoppa lastrico,
Che fa lo figlio mascolo."
of which the sense may probably be:
"Peer out! Peer out! Put forth your horns!
At you your mother mocks and scorns;
Another son is on the stocks,
And you she scorns, at you she mocks."
The Evil Eye.—This superstition is still prevalent in this neighbourhood (Launceston). I have very recently been informed of the case of a young woman, in the village of Lifton, who is lying hopelessly ill of consumption, which her neighbours attribute to her having been "overlooked" (this is the local phrase by which they designate the baleful spell of the evil eye). An old woman in this town is supposed to have the power of "ill-wishing" or bewitching her neighbours and their cattle, and is looked on with much awe in consequence.
"Millery! Millery! Dousty-poll!" &c.—I am told by a neighbour of a cruel custom among the children in Somersetshire, who, when they have caught a certain kind of large white moth, which they call a miller, chant over it this uncouth ditty:—
"Millery! Millery! Dousty-poll!
How many sacks hast thou stole?"
And then, with boyish recklessness, put the poor creature to death for the imagined misdeeds of his human namesake.
"Nettle in, Dock out."—Sometime since, turning over the leaves of Clarke's Chaucer, I stumbled on the following passage in "Troilus and Cressida," vol. ii. p. 104.:—
"Thou biddest me that I should love another
All freshly newe, and let Creseidé go,
It li'th not in my power levé brother,
And though I might, yet would I not do so:
But can'st thou playen racket to and fro,
Nettle' in Dock out, now this now that, Pandare?
Now foulé fall her for thy woe that care."
I was delighted to find the charm for a nettle sting, so familiar to my childish ear, was as old as Chaucer's time, and exceedingly surprised to stumble on the following note:—
"This appears to be a proverbial expression implying inconstancy; but the origin of the phrase is unknown to all the commentators on our poet."
If this be the case, Chaucer's commentators may as well be told that children in Northumberland use friction by a dock-leaf as the approved remedy for the sting of a nettle, or rather the approved charm; for the patient, while rubbing in the dock-juice, should keep repeating,—
"Nettle in, dock out,
Dock in, nettle out,
Nettle in, dock out,
Dock rub nettle out."
The meaning is therefore obvious. Troilus is indignant at being recommended to forget this Cressida for a new love, just as a child cures a nettle-sting by a dock-leaf. I know not whether you will deem this trifle worth a corner in your valuable and amusing