Various

Notes and Queries, Number 73, March 22, 1851


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is vapour, from reck, as Horne Tooke showed; and the light clouds on the face of heaven are the 'rack,' or vapour from the earth. The word 'rack' was often used in this way."—Coll. Shaksp., vol. i. p. 70.

      Mr. Knight appears to incline to the same view; and regarding these as the two latest authorities, and finding in neither of them any reference to the question of construction, I naturally concluded that the point had been overlooked by the commentators. On reference, however, I found to my surprise, that Malone, for the very same reasons, had come to the same conclusion. Had Malone's argument been briefly stated by the "two latest and best editors," I should, of course, have had no occasion to trouble you with this note: and this instance, it appears to me, furnishes additional reasons for enforcing the principle for which I am contending; the neglect of it affecting, in however slight a degree, the sense or correctness of so important and frequently quoted a passage. For my own part, I should have thought that the commonest faith in Shakspeare would have protected any editor, whose avowed object it was to restore the text, from preferring in this instance, to the plain common sense of Malone, the more showy authority of Horne Tooke.

      In my last paper I wrote,—"So far as quantity is concerned, to eat a crocodile would be no more than to eat an ox." You have omitted the negative.

Samuel Hickson.

      ANCIENT INEDITED POEMS, NO. III

      In my last communication on this subject, I forgot to remark on the strange title given to the monody on Mr. Browne. May I ask if the name of "Chorus" was thus indiscriminately applied at the time when the poem was composed?

      The next poem that I shall give is copied from Harleian MSS., 367., art. 60., fol. 158. It is entitled—

"A VERTUOUS WOMAN

      "When painted vice fils upp the rimes

      Of these our last depraued times:

      And soe much lust by wanton layes

      Disperséd is; that beautie strayes

      Into darke corners wheere vnseen,

      Too many sadd berefts haue been.

      Aduance my muse to blaze1 that face

      Wheere beautie sits enthroand in grace.

      The eye though bright, and quicke to moue,

      Daignes not a cast to wanton loue.

      A comely ffront not husht in hayre,

      Nor face be-patcht to make it fayre.

      The lipps and cheekes though seemely redd,

      Doe blush afresh if by them fedd.

      Some wanton youthes doe gaze too much

      Though naked breasts are hidd from touch.

      When due salutes are past, they shunn

      A seconde kisse: yea, half vndone

      Shee thinkes herselfe, when wantons praise

      Her hande or face with such loose phraise

      As they haue learnt at acts and scenes,

      Noe hand in hand with them shee meenes,

      Shall giue them boldnes to embalme,

      Ther filthie fist in her chast palme.

      Her pretious honners overlookes,

      At her retires the best of bookes.

      Whatsoeuer else shee doth forget

      Noe busines shall her prayers2 let.

      Those that bee good, shee prizes most,

      Noe time with them shee counteth lost.

      Her chast delights, her mind, aduance

      Above Lot-games or mixéd dance.

      Shee cares not for an enterlude,

      Or idly will one day conclude.

      The looser toungs that filth disclose

      Are graueolencie to her nose.

      But when a vertuous man shall court

      Her virgin thoughts in nuptiall sort:

      Her faire depor[t]ment, neyther coy

      Nor yet too forward, fits his ioy,

      And giues his kisses leaue to seale

      On her fayre hand his faythfull zeale.

      Blest is his conquest in her loue,

      With her alone death cann remoue.

      And if before shee did adorne

      Her parents' howse, the cheerefull morne

      Reioyceth now at this blest payre,

      To see a wife soe chast soe fayre.

      They happy liue; and know noe smart

      Of base suspects or iealous heart;

      And if the publike bredd noe feare,

      Nor sadd alarms did fill ther care,

      From goodnes flowes ther ioy soe cleere

      As grace beginnes ther heauen heere."

      The poem has no subscription, nor, from the appearance of the paper, should I say there had been one. The comparatively modern phraseology points to a late era. The poem is bound up with a quantity of John Stowe's papers, and I think is in his handwriting, upon comparing it with other papers known to be his in the same book. As it is my chief object (next to contributing to the preservation and publication of these ancient ballads) to obtain data regarding the anonymous productions of the earlier days of England's literature, any remarks, allow me to say, that other contributors will favour our medium of intercommunication with, will be much appreciated by

Kenneth R. H. Mackenzie.

      [Our correspondent is certainly mistaken in supposing this poem to be in Stowe's handwriting. We have the best possible authority for assuring him that it is not.]

      FOLK LORE

      Moths called Souls.—While I am upon this subject, I may as well mention that in Yorkshire the country-people used in my youth, and perhaps do still, call night-flying white moths, especially the Hepialus humuli, which feeds, while in the grub state, on the roots of docks and other coarse plants, "souls." Have we not in all this a remnant of "Psyche?"

F. S.

      [This latter paragraph furnishes a remarkable coincidence with the tradition from the neighbourhood of Truro (recorded by Mr. Thoms in his Folk lore of Shakspeare, Athenæum (No. 1041.) Oct. 9. 1847) which gives the name of Piskeys both to the fairies and to moths, which are believed by many to be departed souls.]

      Holy Water for the Hooping Cough (vol. iii., p. 179.).—In one of the principal towns of Yorkshire, half a century ago, it was the practice for persons in a respectable class of life to take their children, when afflicted with the hooping cough, to a neighbouring convent, where the priest allowed them to drink a small quantity of holy water out of a silver chalice, which the little sufferers were strictly forbidden to touch. By Protestant, as well as Roman Catholic parents, this was regarded as a remedy. Is not the superstition analogous to that noticed by Mr. Way?

Eboracomb.

      Daffy Down Dilly.—At this season, when the early spring flowers are showing themselves, we hear the village children repeating these lines:—

      "Daff a down dill has now come to town,

      In a yellow petticoat and a green gown."

      Does not this nursery rhyme throw light upon the character of the royal visitor alluded to in the snail charm recorded by F. J. H. (p. 179.)?

Eboracomb.

      DR.