Botanical Shakespeare

ACONITUM – Aconite, a.k.a. Wolfs-bane, Monkshood, Devil’s Helmet, and Queen of All Poisons—although other poisons might resent that hyperbole [see HEBENON/HEBONA]. But most of the 250-plus species in this genus are highly toxic. It’s pretty enough to grace gardens, and can be employed for antidotal purposes, but it’s most appreciated as a narcotic. A staple for witches and a stealth poison in antique wars, it may also be what tipped Laertes’ sword, given that its possible root is the word akon, meaning dart or javelin in Greek. It also gets a shout-out in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Shakespeare’s favorite book.

ACORN – Fruit of the OAK tree; the leathery outer nut/seed is cradled in a cupule [cup]. The acorn can represent the weak and insignificant offspring of its mighty Oak progenitor; conversely, it is also the seed of inherent potential for the same mighty attributes. MAST was a term for fallen acorns, a prized find of foraging pigs.

ADONIS FLOWER/FRITILLARY – This flower has puzzled scholars for centuries, but why? The anemone in Ovid’s original tale of Venus and Adonis was assumed to be in Shakespeare’s poem [even though he always puts his own spin on his source material], but the “purple flower . . . chequer’d with white” that springs from dead Adonis’s blood defies that description. It does, however, perfectly fit the Fritillaria meleagris, a.k.a. Snakeshead Fritillary, or Turkie flower [so named by Flemish botanist Rembert Dodoens given the similar pattern on guinea fowl, called turkeys in England at that time]. Apothecary Noël Caperon imported the sample c. 1570 from Orleans, France, modestly calling it Narcissus caperonius; John Gerard, author of the Herball, became a fan of the flower, dubbing it the Checkered Daffodil, and he put it on the cover of his 1597 tome—so there it was, in a contemporaneous source all along, easily identifiable.

ALMOND – The almond tree, a prized cultivar first recorded in the mid-sixteenth century, arrived almost concurrent with wealthy Elizabethans’ growing passion for sugar, which, mixed with rose water and the sweet nut, made marzipan [“marchpane” in Romeo and Juliet], a fashionable confection. Parrots apparently found the nut irresistible, which speaks to the sense of Thersites’ line; the proverbial phrase is echoed in Shakespeare contemporary Thomas Nashe’s An Almond for a Parrot, and in Ben Jonson’s The Magnetick Lady some years later.

ALOE – Nowadays this succulent plant is considered synonymous with a soothing salve, but the one referenced in Shakespeare, although still medicinal, is a bitter version—originally imported from India or Asia—a strong purgative with an intense fragrance.

APPLE – Among the earliest cultivated fruit trees, apples were both medicinal and edible, though the term apple could be applied generically to other fruits as well. In addition to sustenance, Shakespeare finds the apple ripe for metaphor. Specific types he mentions:

APPLE-JOHN – a long-lasting apple that looks worn or old.

BITTER-SWEETING – a sweetish variety, possibly a cider apple or one used in cookery.

CODLING – an immature apple, unripe.

PIPPIN – an oblong, long-lasting apple usually raised from pips [individual roots].

POMEWATER – a largish, tart, juicy, paleskinned apple.

LEATHER-COAT – this has come to be known as a Golden Russet, a medium-size apple with a sharp/sweet flavor and crisp bite; cataloged among the best apple trees. However, since Shakespeare seems to be the first mention, the context indicates that he is actually referring to the Caraways themselves and their “seed” casings, so the quote has been moved to CARAWAY

COSTARD – the name of a comic character in Love’s Labour’s Lost, the word itself also an antique term for Apple, usually oversize, leading to its double meaning, a head. Hence, the rustic name for an apple seller became costardmonger, elided and morphed into costermonger/s —a vagabond subculture of fruit sellers with a rowdy, low, and lawless reputation [the term was also occasionally applied to actors].

ANGELICA – The plant, pictured in the Introduction, is named as a character in Romeo and Juliet. Speculation runs the gamut on this garden and wild herb: a kitchen wench, the first name of the Nurse, an “antidote” of sorts to Juliet’s previously mentioned mandrake, a sweetmeat to contrast with the baked meats being prepared for the wedding feast . . . Interestingly, contemporary writer Robert Greene has a silent, single-mentioned character called Angelica in his Perimedes.

APRICOT – Apricock in Shakespeare’s day, a derivation of Abrecox/Aprecox from the original Latin [præcox/præcoquus], the fruit may have arrived in England c. Henry VIII’s reign via Italy, Spain, or the Silk Road from China. It was considered a fruit of the wealthy, and earned the nickname precocious tree [another echo of the Latin] by blooming earlier than the PEACH. That it appears in Richard II is considered a time line anomaly [unless Shakespeare knew something we don’t yet and it immigrated earlier, perhaps during the Roman occupation].

ARABIAN TREE [ACACIA] – Many scholars have assumed the tree Othello is talking about is the PALM or Myrrh [whose gum has medicinal applications but not for eyes], but sixteenth-century herbals, including Gerard’s, draw stronger connections with the gummi arabicum of the Acacia or Aegyptian Thorne, in relation to eye treatments; a thirteenth-century Italian surgeon referenced its gum specifically as tears. The tree referred to in both Tempest and Phoenix and the Turtle, however, is likely the PALM, which was believed to house the mythical phoenix, hence its eventual botanic name: Phoenix dactylifera.

ASH – An English timber tree renowned for fast growth and strength; a staple for reliable tools and spears. Shakespeare’s sole use of the close-grained wood cited as splintering against Coriolanus speaks to his superior strength.

ASPEN – In the poplar genus, distinguished by the flat stems [as opposed to round] that attach Aspen leaves to the tree, which cause the perpetual motion, as if they are always quivering.

BACHELOR’S BUTTONS/BUDS – A popular name for plants with button-like buds and flowers. Carried in men’s pockets, tucked in ladies’ plackets, or secreted in other folds of clothing, arrays of sweet-smelling buds were employed to mask personal odor and to create pleasant “airs” and positive memories of courtiers’ time together. As talismans, these flowers could indicate the success or failure of the courting ritual based on their retention, or loss, of freshness. The Bachelor’s Button eventually migrated to the lapel or buttonhole.

BALM, BALSAM and BALSAMUM – The soothing application of these plants ultimately became synonymous with succor in general. Using generous parameters, we only included quotes referencing the plants [as opposed to metaphor, e.g., balm of my poor eyes = tears]. Balm was probably Lemon Balm, with its delicate, sweet scent, used as a salve for wounds and similar medicaments. It was often used interchangeably with Balsam and Balsamum, varieties of gum-bearing trees [we illustrate BALM and BALSAMUM]; all were used to make healing unguents, but also for purposes such as embalming a revered corpse or anointing a sovereign.

BARLEY – A grain crop considered inferior to WHEAT for bread making, but a staple in times of shortage. Also used for brewing [bar-ley means beer plant]. It is suggested that the “barley-broth” disdained by the French constable in the quote from Henry V is as much about the medicinal broth [to cool the blood] as it is a sneering reference to English beer.

BARNACLE – Caliban in The Tempest’s fears “We shall . . . all be turn’d to Barnacles.” Although the crustaceans that stick to the bottom of boats might be a good guess for these island-dwellers, 16th c. Barnacles were firmly believed to be geese that grew from the “Barnacle tree, or the tree bearing Geese” [John Gerard swears to have seen them in person]. The legendary tree seems to have been grafted from sea fables and a 14th c. traveler’s tale. There are however Barnacle geese today, born from a traditional mother goose.

BAY TREE/LAUREL – A favorite of Delphic priestesses and the god Apollo, the glossy evergreen leaves of Sweet Bay [Laurus nobilis] have long been associated with royalty, immortality, and crowns of victory in war. An Italian superstition cites them as harbingers of calamity in a country if they wither and die.

BEANS – Pulses [the seeds of some kinds of leguminous plants] or beans seem to suffer from a low reputation in Shakespeare [one writer dubbed them unromantic]. Usually some type of broad bean used for horse feed [which when damp caused intestinal upset] or food only fit for the common or poor folk.

BILBERRY – Growing on a common shrub found on mossy heaths or in thickets, these wild berries, a.k.a. whortleberries, heath-berries, or whinberries, are known for the dark blue stain they leave on lips and fingers, hence Pistol’s line about pinching the ladies till they were bruised the color of the fruit. They only make a solo appearance in Shakespeare, although their wild state suggests they might also be the berries mentioned in Timon and Titus.

BIRCH – This native tree gets short shrift in Shakespeare; the two mentions skip its graceful mien in favor of the use of its branches, dried twigs bound together to discipline children, giving rise to the term birching. Also used on wives and by witches.

BLACKBERRIES/BRAMBLES – Another candidate for the berries noted in Titus and Timon, these wild berries are mentioned for their common availability both as easily edible and as thorny inhibitors in underbrush.

BOX TREE – Because of its ubiquity as a hedge plant easily clipped into all manner of topiary for knot gardens, great gardens, arbors, and more, it’s not surprising that Box pops up in Olivia’s garden as a hiding place for Malvolio’s malefactors.

BRIERS – The prickly spires on rose stems, or any “tooth’d” and thorny aspects of a plant—a variety of options are considered Briers; we’ve illustrated a Scotch Rose as the generic Brier Rose, alongside a Blackberry bramble, but Hawthorn brakes and other sharp, spiky botanical elements qualify as the rough underside of nature’s sylvan beauty. See also THORNS.

BROOM – This flowering shrub holds both a lowly and a [secretly] lofty place in Shakespeare. Native to heaths, the sweetly scented, bright golden blossoms get only one shout-out as flowers in Tempest; Puck’s mention in its sweeping capacity is included because, as a sprite, he could still be using the pretty plant rather than its more prosaic household form [a reference to the broomstick as utilitarian tool is omitted]. But, from its antique Latin designation, Planta genista, comes Plantagenet, the name of the prominent family of British royalty [in six of Shakespeare’s History plays], including Richard Plantagenet a.k.a. Richard III of car park fame [locating his skeleton in a local Leicester parking lot has been the find of the century for some British historians].

BULRUSH – see RUSHES.

BURDOCK/HARDOCK/HARLOCK/CHARLOCK/HARDOKE and BUR/BURRES – Although Cordelia speaks disparagingly of this weed [in multitudinous spellings!], it can be quite fetching in its native habitat [and used to dye hair red]. But the dried-up, unopened flower head becomes the clinging Burr, whose long, stiff bracts, with hooked tips, stick steadfastly to anything nearby; hence it often became equated with obsessive crushes.

BURNET – In the Rose family, a.k.a. Garden Burnet and Common Burnet, this plant’s name is drawn from its brownish flowers. It garners only a single mention, in Henry V, an element in the Duke of Burgundy’s ecological screed, but Francis Bacon echoes its sweetness, recommending it to line pathways, alongside wild THYME and MINT, for its sensorial delights.

CABBAGE – Variously known as cole, worts, and coleworts [among other names], Cabbage plays perfectly into the lingual salad Falstaff makes of the Latin and English that Parson Evans speaks in his thick Welsh accent. Cabbage was a staple food of cottage gardens and pottage for the impoverished; Gerard also highlights medicinal uses for poor eyesight, and notes that the seeds can fade freckles.

CANKER-BLOOM/CANKER-BLOSSOM – Not a flower per se, but mentioned enough that it warrants an entry: A canker is an open wound, often due to injury, that becomes infected with bacteria or creeping fungus that makes it fester, corrode, and ultimately die. Shakespeare made much of the phenomenon metaphorically, on plants and flowers, sometimes to comic but mostly tragic effect.

CAMOMILE [var. CHAMOMILE] – A groundcover in the sixteenth century and a soothing aromatic herb—fifth of the nine magic herbs cited in the Lacnunga, a tenth-century Anglo-Saxon herbal—it symbolized energy, as well as humility because it grows stronger, faster, and more fragrant the more it is walked all over.

CAPER – A bramble-like shrub whose flower buds are pickled for use as seasoning or garnish. Sir Toby puns on its use as sauce for the mutton, but a caper is also a dance derived from the late-sixteenth-century French capriole—the word caper echoes the name of a maneuver in classical riding, where the horse leaps from the ground kicking out with its hind legs. Hence, it is the basis for wordplay between Sir Toby and Andrew Aguecheek.

CARAWAY, CARRAWAYS/CARROWAYES – Mistakenly called seeds, these tiny fruits are related to FENNEL; they were made into comfits [a sort of candy; see SUGAR], helped mask the smell of rotting teeth, and were prescribed as accompaniments to APPLES. In his 1584. Haven of Health, Thomas Cogan helpfully notes that “all such things as breed wind, would be eaten with other things that breake wind.” Their soft leathery shells, and the context of the line, indicate that they are in fact the “leather-coats” referenced, as opposed to a type of apple.

CARDUUS BENEDICTUS/HOLY THISTLE – In the Poore Man’s Jewell of 1578, Thomas Brasbridge extolls the virtues of Carduus Benedictus as a curative “hearbe.” Also known as Holy [or blessed] Thistle, its use to Shakespeare was through teasing wordplay with Beatrice, that the remedy for her “qualm” contained the name of its cause, her romantic sparring partner, Benedick.

CARNATIONS/GILLYVORS/PINKS – Carnation is twice mentioned by Shakespeare as a color [a light or deep rose-pink], hated by Falstaff and desired by Costard in a ribbon [it was an “in” color at court; Queen Elizabeth was gifted carnation-colored clothing over one hundred times during her reign]. As a flower, Carnation is paired up with Gillyvors [a.k.a. Juillet [July] flowers] in Perdita’s speech against them as “Nature’s bastards.” In a conversation fraught with metaphor, her future father-in-law argues for the hybridization of Nature and Art through grafting, although botanic splicing of this kind was considered blasphemous, against Nature and God’s plan. Both belong to the family of Pinks, which itself is punned on in a bawdy exchange between Romeo and Mercutio.

CARROT [var. CARET] – A root vegetable staple among commoners, and as such the root of the pun made by Mistress Quickly when Parson Evans, in his heavy Welsh accent, gives William a “caret” in his Latin lesson. Gerard delineates medicinal and culinary uses for yellow and red garden carrots, as well as for the whiter wild carrots.

CEDAR – An evergreen conifer of majestic reputation, it is several times used as a symbol of ancient lineage, or emblematically, via biblical descriptions of its height, strength, and longevity.

CHERRY – A poetic staple beginning with its rich red color, usually pertaining to lips. The growth pattern of the fruit doubled on a single stem offers a metaphor for closeness, or similarity. Cherries were popular with Henry VIII, and had a long association with virginity—a ballad involving Cherries and the Virgin Mother harks back to medieval times—making it an acceptable motif in the Virgin Queen’s wardrobe. But the game of Cherry-pit [cherry stones tossed into a little hole, like a marble toss] is referred to in terms of the Devil.

CHESTNUT – Like the WALNUT, the luxuriant Chestnut tree has been soaring and spreading its branches in England for centuries. The sweet nuts were a dessert, or were preserved in the larder for lean months. Roasting was popular, with the attendant loud pop Petruchio notes. Their reddish brown hue establishes Orlando’s hair color.

CLOVER – Delicate and sweetly scented, it was encouraged on sandy ground and grassy meadows for sheep and cattle to graze upon. Previously it was assumed that HONEY-STALKS also referred to clover, but recent research has shown that that notion originated in the eighteenth century without basis.

CLOVE – Unopened flower buds of the Clove tree, an evergreen and ancient trading staple from the East Indies. Both medicinal and culinary [apple pies were rarely made without them]; stuck into citrus fruits to make pomanders.

COCKLE – A flowering weed in the grass family, Corn Cockle has a delicate attractiveness that belies its toxicity. Much like DARNEL, its presence in harvest crops meant labor-intensive hand weeding to remove it. Metaphorically, its presence suggests corruption of some nature, which is why [despite the fact that it is also a shell], it shows up in the ravings of the mad girls, Ophelia, and the Jailer’s Daughter.

COLOQUINTIDA – Nicknamed bitter apple, but actually a type of GOURD originally cultivated in Cyprus or Spain, so an apt fruit for Iago to reference. Writers contemporary with Shakespeare, such as John Lyly and Robert Greene, noted its acrid and poisonous nature; Gerard cautions that medicinally it is a forceful purgative.

COLUMBINE – This garden and wild flower could have been called Aquilegia, because the petals suggest eagle talons; others see doves in flight [Latin: Columba]; or it could have been called Chelidonia [celandine] “for it bloometh in the coming of sparrows” and was believed to restore their eyesight. An interesting claim, given Hamlet’s “fall of a sparrow” speech in the last act of the play. The curved, hornlike spikes at the ends of the five petals connect Columbine to cuckoldry; the layers of meaning when Ophelia doles it out during her “mad scene” have been rife with interpretation. As a heraldic emblem, it was a feature of both the House of Lancaster and the Derby family. But springing as it does from the Ranunculus family, and so related to ACONITUM, it is poisonous.

CORK – Gerard gives a thorough description of the Mediterranean tree in his Herball. The thick, spongy, lightweight bark was ideal for women’s shoes, as heels and lining for warmth, so prized that it appears in the Gift Rolls for Queen Elizabeth. But its ubiquity, then as now, is as bottle stoppers.

CORN – A generic term for grain, especially a lead crop, or any crop that requires grinding, be it WHEAT, RYE, OATS, or BARLEY—the many mentions in Shakespeare have caused modern audiences some confusion. Turkie Corne, a.k.a. maize, was introduced to England in the sixteenth century—Gerard displays it on the cover of his 1597 Herball, in the left hand of the mysterious “Fourth Man.” His in-depth coverage traces its roots and routes from Turkey [hence its name], Asia, and America, perhaps compounding confusion in calling it Turkie Wheate. He also explains his experience of growing it, though it wasn’t cultivated as a crop for consumption until the late seventeenth century. The price and availability of “corn” was key to the stability of the kingdom. Corn rebellions broke out in the 1590s [echoed in Henry VI and Coriolanus], prompting Burghley, the Queen’s Lord Treasurer in 1597, to address Parliament about “the lamentable cry of the poor who are likely to perish by . . . the dearness and high price of corn.”

COWSLIP – A close relative of the OXSLIP and the PRIMROSE, this native spring flower is distinguished by its “freckles,” five tiny red dots at its center, enough to hang a plot point on [Cymbeline]. Shakespeare makes the bell of the flower, nicknamed Fairy Cups, a nesting nook; the “rubies” claim to be key to a clear complexion. Describing the flowers as Tatiana’s “tall pensioners” isn’t entirely fanciful: Queen Elizabeth’s Gentlemen Pensioners were always the “tallest and goodliest gentlemen and Yeomen of the Kingdom.” Cowslips feature among the embroidered flowers on the iconic Rainbow Portrait of Elizabeth.

CRAB-APPLE – Grandfather to subsequent cultivated APPLE trees; this native tree acted as stock onto which new Apple varieties could be grafted. Populous in Shakespeare, often as just CRABS, they are synonymous with sourness, much like we would describe a “crabby” person today. The fruit is hard and ill-formed, so roasting was necessary for eating; mashing was an option, too, from which was made verjuice, a sort of vinegar used for cooking, preserving, and as a medicament. Among the sacred herbs of the Anglo-Saxon Lacnunga, the wood of the Wilding tree [Gerard’s name for it] was particularly sturdy, thus desirable for walking sticks and staves.

CROW-FLOWERS - In Gertrude’s specific list of Ophelia’s garland flowers, this one has been something of a mystery, but Gerard identifies it as the Ragged-Robin, a delicate wetland flower.

CROWN IMPERIAL – The sole mention of this second Fritillary [the first being the ADONIS FLOWER], new to England c. 1580 via Constantinople, comes in the pastoral scenes of Winter’s Tale. In 1595, playwright George Chapman called it “Fair Crown Imperial, Emperor of Flowers” in Ovid’s Banquet of Sense. Its large golden blooms form a circlet at the top of the plant like a crown, with green tufts sprouting from the center, but legend holds that though it was admired in the garden of Gethsemane, on the last night, when Jesus was taken away, all the flowers bowed their heads in sorrow except the Crown Imperial. Subsequently doomed to droop its head in perpetuity, it even emanates a tear-like substance. Gerard, who seems unaware of its kinship to the Adonis Flower [Fritillaria meleagris], also put the Crown Imperial on the cover of his great Herball.

CUCKOO-BUDS – A variety of buttercup native to England.

CUCKOO-FLOWERS – see LADY-SMOCKS.

CURRANTS – English currants, akin to GOOSEBERRIES, grow wild across much of Britain. They don’t seem to have been domesticated until the sixteenth century; Gerard mentions them in London gardens as a small fruit “without prickes . . . of a perfect red colour,” as in Two Noble Kinsmen. But on the Clown’s shopping list they are, Reverend Ellacombe insists, the Currants of commerce, Vitis Corinthiaca—from Corinth; in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, they were called raisins de Corauntz.

CUPID’S FLOWER – see PANSY.

CYME/SENNA – The First Folio has Cyme; later amended to Senna, the assumption was that it was a misprint of “cynne,” an archaic spelling of senna. While Senna per se was not introduced until the mid-seventeenth century, its use as a purgative is documented back to preclassical times.

CYPRESS – An evergreen import from Italy or the Mediterranean, notably Cyprus, dark and pencil-thin. Its preservative qualities make it an ideal wood for storage chests. Strewn in times of plague, Cypress became part of mourning rituals. It indicated a range of emotions around death, from sadness to sanctity.

DAFFODIL/NARCISSUS – A wild woodland flower brought in to brighten knot gardens, these early bloomers were happy harbingers of the approaching spring. But the connection with the Greek myth of Narcissus meant the flower could also signify foolishness.

DAISIES – Native to Britain, the common Daisy is herald to spring and summer. Daisies were symbolic of freshness, innocence, and modesty, but also, because each flower is short-lived, they stood for grief, sadness, and death.

DAMSON – see PLUM.

DARNEL – A grain grass or weed commonly found in harvest fields, and highly toxic. If the seeds invaded baking or brewing grains, the results were dangerous, producing a delirium akin to drunkenness, and blurred vision. Another irritant was the cost and time required to remove the seedlings by hand. See COCKLE.

DATES – The exotic fruit of the Date Palm [found throughout Southern Europe, North Africa, and Western Asia]. Dates were coveted imports harking back centuries; the Anglo-Saxons called them Finger-Apples.

DEAD MEN’S FINGERS – see LONG PURPLES.

DEWBERRIES – Ripening earlier than Blackberries, they have larger, but fewer drupes [the bulbous clusters that compose the juicy berry]; the trailing bush never grows as large as the BLACKBERRY. See also BILBERRY.

DIAN’S BUD – see WORMWOOD.

DOCKS – Broad-leaved, deep-rooted weeds that favor neglected pasture and meadow, they often grow near stinging NETTLES, which is convenient given that they are a soothing antidote for the burning sensation.

EBONY – For Shakespeare, this hardwood tree is just a stand-in for the intense color in the heart of its trunk, a jet-black wood that takes a high polish. Ebony was briefly considered a candidate for HEBENON/HEBONA.

EGLANTINE – a.k.a. Sweet Brier, the wild rose with a slight prickle was cherished for its singular sweet scent, deemed superior to that of any other Rose; it emanates from the leaves, not the bloom, and can’t be duplicated [hence you’ll never find a true Eglantine perfume]. Perhaps that is why Queen Elizabeth adopted it as a personal emblem, alongside the more formal Tudor Rose.

ELDER – The native tree is a familiar in woods and on rough ground, its honey-scented flowers in stark contrast to its stinking leaves. Shakespeare makes use, via pun, of the legend that Judas hung himself on this tree, and that its stems are used by small boys to make popguns. Elder is renowned as “nature’s medicine chest,” which is why the Host includes it among Aescalapius and Galen in addressing Dr. Caius.

ELM – Beautifully ornamental and prized for their timber, Elms are basically now extinct in England due to disease [although there are attempts to revive them]; Romans planted them in vineyards and Ovid echoed the ancients in noting the love between the Elm and VINE.

ERINGOES – a.k.a. Sea Holly, it was cultivated as a vegetable with various medicinal uses. Shakespeare is first to mention it, in Falstaff ‘s famous line that aligns the candied root with two other popular aphrodisiacs, sweet potatoes and musk-flavored sugar candy called kissing-comfits.

FENNEL – A hardy perennial herb whose heady scent of aniseed hinted at its digestive uses. Chewing Fennel seeds helped stave off hunger, and it was appreciated as a carminative in a staple diet of beans and pulses. Although revered as one of the nine sacred herbs, Gerard didn’t even bother including Fennel in his Herball; it was so well known, he considered it “lost labor” to write about.

FERN/FERN SEED – The joke in Shakespeare’s dialogue is that “Fern-seed” is invisible [the “seeds” are actually tiny spores] so, invoking the Doctrine of Signatures, meaning like to like, it could theoretically reproduce invisibility, but only on Midsummer Eve. Good thing there was a caveat.

FESCUE – A large genus of native Grasses, possibly utilized for schoolroom instruction [an anonymous 1607 play, The Puritan, uses the plant in a similar fashion], although in Two Noble Kinsmen there are sexual undertones as well. See GRASSES.

FIG – Medicinal applications aside, the Fig’s sexually suggestive shape and renown as an aphrodisiac gave rise to much bawdy humor. Reverend Ellacombe beautifully illuminates an extraordinary aspect of the Fig: that it is “neither fruit nor flower, [but] partaking of both, . . . the fleshy receptacle enclosing a multitude of flowers which never see the light, yet come to full perfection and ripen their seed.” Given his calling as a canon of the Church, however, he sidestepped clarifying the meaning of Pistol’s exchanges, particularly the crude gesture of “making a fig”—putting the thumb between the first two fingers—roughly, the “female” version of “flipping a bird.” Or flicking the thumb out from the mouth or teeth. Accompanying this gesture with the Spanish word for fig further underscored the emphatic nature of the epithet, since the gesture itself was thought to have originated in Spain.

FILBERT – see HAZEL.

FLAGS – Candidates include the native yellow Iris, common in wetlands; the term could also embrace any floating REED or RUSH. See also FLOWER-DE-LUCE.

FLAX – A cultivated crop pre-dating the Dark Ages, it is spun into sailcloth, cordage, and linen, and is the origin of linseed oil. Exceedingly flammable; its pale fibers have also been compared to hair in old age. Given that its Latin name is Linum usitatissimum and that it was spun into line or linen, it seems a fair candidate for the “Line-grove” mentioned in Tempest. See LINE TREE [LIME/LINDEN].

FLOWER-DE-LUCE/FLEUR-DE-LIS – Various lilies and irises have been posited for this flower, which is, as the Fleur-de-lis, the cognizance of France. The French lys does mean lily, but irises have long been symbols of royalty; Edmund Spenser, Francis Bacon, and Ben Jonson all write of the Flower-de-luce as an Iris. Representative of faith, valor, and wisdom, the emblem arguably stands on its own as a heraldic symbol, apart from identification with any particular plant.

FUMITER/FUMITORY/FENITAR – Handsome but undesirable, these weeds can eat up a grain field.

FURROW-WEEDS – Any plants that grow in the furrowed ground left by the plow; see COCKLE, DARNEL, FUMITER, GRASSES.

FURZE/GOSS/GORSE – Gorse is the standard appellation for Shakespeare’s Furze and Goss that populate Prospero’s wild island. For these dense, sharp, spreading shrubs that proliferate on acidic soil and heathland, the operative element here is their rough and wild aspect. See THORNS, BROOM, BRIER.

GARLIC/GARLICKE – Renowned for cleaning the blood, preventing colds, and adding a rich flavor to meats, soups, and stews, it is a pungent member of the ONION family, and was often associated with the poor or immigrants. It has particular associations with witchcraft, but is more notorious for its strong smell, causing bad breath and body odor, hence Bottom’s caution to the actors.

GILLIVORS/GILLY-FLOWERS – Clove-scented blooms in the PINK family. See CARNATIONS.

GINGER – Familiar but not native, the perennial tuberous root was a common import from the East Indies; its reputation for “hotting up” food and drink made it a valuable commodity for bringing flavor to a bland diet. Popular as a medicinal and for making gingerbread.

GOOSEBERRY – In the CURRANT family, this garden shrub was cultivated for its larger, sweeter fruit. The green berries have nothing to do with geese so when Shakespeare references the fruit in a shortened moniker, i.e., “goose,” it can cause confusion, especially when he’s just referencing the color. But because Shakespeare is sneaky with his layered meanings, “goose” can mean the green berry, the fowl, and a prostitute in a single mention. “Gooseberry” itself is an Anglicized version of its French or Italian name, or a corruption of Crossberry. The fruit was recommended during times of plague, and is probably at the root of the idiom “silly goose,” harking from May Day festivals.

GOURD/PUMPION/MARROW/CURBITA – Various edible Gourds of the Cucurbit family. Pumpion was often used generically for any edible gourd including melons and cucumbers, hence Mistress Ford’s “gross watery . . .” description. Marrow, too, in Timon, is in this family. Too tempting to exclude: Parolles’ line about “curbed time”—as Curbita, its context perfectly plays on the family name. Pistol’s gourd is actually a kind of dice, possibly made from the dried outer casing of a small gourd.

GRAPES, RAISINS [see also VINE] – The fruit of the vine, Grapes could be a synonym for the wine they become, an alternative name for berry, or a generic reference to fruit. As the dried fruits, Raisins, also called muscatels, are a corruption of racemus, meaning a bunch of Grapes [which happens to be the tavern name in Measure for Measure], and so could just mean the ripe clusters still hanging on the tree.

GRASSES/STOVER/HONEY-STALKS – General herbage in pastures or meadows; botanically, any number of over ten thousand varieties within the family Poaceae—they grow quickly and bounce back easily from excessive foot traffic. Thus, Grasses can symbolize strength, self-sufficiency, and regeneration. Shakespeare employs them in myriad ways, from the callous imagery of mowing down women and children to the gently poetic headrest. Groundcover—another option, can be seen at MUSHROOMS/TOADSTOOLS. We umbrella Honey-stalks in here as fodder [see CLOVER] due to the recent research showing that the term probably just refers to dewy Grasses favored by sheep. See also FESCUE.

HAREBELL – It is hotly debated whether Shakespeare meant Harebell; Bluebell, which blooms with the Primrose; or Wild Hyacinth, whose vernacular name was Harebell [and which does have veins]. We chose what he wrote because, as noted [see PEONY], Shakespeare usually knows best.

HAWTHORN/MAY TREE – Beloved herald of the spring, its mayflowers blooming in time for May Day fairs, and as shelter for shepherds, the tree was associated with country folk. Nicknames include Whitethorn, Blackthorn, and Quickthorn for its abundant spikes, sometimes used as a rustic acupuncture; also fairy tree for its magical powers. Its ripe red berries, called Cuckoo’s Beads or Pixie Cups, could make a cardiac tonic.

HAZEL/FILBERT/FILBERD/PHILBIRTES and NUTS – This multiuse shrub served as hedgerow, wattle fence, and nut farm. Its flexible, coppiced stems, used for water dowsing, were responsible for its magical reputation, apparent in Mercutio’s Queen Mab speech. When Shakespeare uses the term nut, it is assumed he means Filbert, the name for the cultivated nut, derived from its apparently very specific ripening time: August 22, St. Philbert’s Day. See also ALMOND, CHESTNUT, WALNUT.

HEATH – Open moorland covered with a variety of native flowering shrubbery and Grasses, or the growth itself, called Heath, or Heather, Bell Heather, and Ling [the last sometimes replacing “long” in Tempest, although “long” is likely the correct reading]. So admired was this wild growth that cultivated gardens were intentionally fashioned to mimic the naturally occurring landscape.

HEBENON/HEBONA – The poison that killed Hamlet’s father continues to be a hot topic in that everyone is seduced into trying to solve the mystery of what exact toxin is poured in his ear. We are no exceptions and have reasoned out a solution, but also offer a composite of poisons for your consideration.

– Hebenon is the name of the poison in the First Folio; Hebona comes from the two Quartos of Hamlet. But none of the source material for the story names any specific poison at all—it seems to be solely Shakespeare’s addition.

– In his play The Jew of Malta, Christopher Marlowe cites “juice of hebon” as a deadly poison.

– Edmund Spenser, who styled himself an antique poet, employs the arcane term in Fairie Queene: “trees of bitter gall and Heben sad,” and the wood is carved into a “deadly Heben bow,” a “speare of Heben wood,” and a “Heben launce.”

– John Gower, a fourteenth-century poet whose work is an acknowledged Shakespeare source, writes “Of Hebenus that sleepy tree,” and later, “She his sleepy ears pierceth” in his poem Confessio Amantis.

So those are the several mentions of a poisonous source by major influences on Shakespeare for his “Hebenon” in Hamlet. The possibilities for what Hebenon actually is:

INSANE ROOT – In Macbeth, and identified by scholars as Henbane; Gerard actually calls it Insana. But Henbane as an echo of Hebona is not strong enough to make it the leading candidate. Plus, its effects are different than what the Ghost describes.

EBONY – Or ebon, is another homophone, but the Ebony tree was an expensive import, not easily available, and distilling from its resin was too difficult; plus, it’s negligible as a poison.

HEMLOCK – Works faster if taken in wine [a distillation], but again, its effects as a poison don’t match.

ACONITE – This poison isn’t even considered a candidate, presumably because the effects don’t coincide with the Ghost’s. But neither do they with Romeo’s death, even though it is posited as his poison. In a low dose, it numbs all the limbs, as in a coma, so it would fit with what the Friar gives Juliet to fake her death, however.

DEADLY NIGHTSHADE – Called enoron in Old English [a slight echo of Hebenon], but Belladonna now; it is known for its toxicity and availability, but symptoms include dizziness, delirium, and convulsions.

YEW – Being a tree, it fits perfectly with the earlier cited old-fashioned mentions of Heben, and its toxic effects are in sync with the Ghost’s symptoms, including a crusting of the skin, and mimicking a snakebite. Plus, tellingly, Hamlet’s father would have used an antique term.

HEMLOCK – In the benign family of CARROT, FENNEL, and Cow PARSLEY. HEMLOCK’s reputation as a poison precedes it thanks to Socrates’ suicide story; a jot can serve as a sedative, or antidote, but just a wee bit over can result in paralysis or death. Given poison’s association with the Black Arts, it is not surprising that one of the Macbeth Witches uses it, referring to the superstition that it is more potent when dug up at night. See HEBENON/HEBONA, KECKSIES.

HEMP – A cultivated crop in increasing demand in the island maritime nation: its fiber was made into canvas, cordage [including the hangman’s noose], and coarse fabric.

HERB OF GRACE [also GRACE] – see RUE.

HOLLY – A slow-growing evergreen with attractive red berries but sharp, repelling leaves. Male and female flowers are borne on separate trees, so they need to be planted in groups to thrive.

HOLY THISTLE – see CARDUUS BENEDICTUS.

HONEY-STALKS – see CLOVER and GRASSES.

HONEYSUCKLE/WOODBINE – Native climber with an intensely sensual scent; Woodbine had been considered a more generic creeper, but the plants slowly became entwined much like their growth pattern, which, coupled with the heady fragrance, made them symbolic of ardent and steadfast love.

HYSSOP – An aromatic evergreen herb, bitter to the taste. It was often planted with THYME as they were thought to stimulate each other’s growth, but Iago pulls one up in favor of the other.

INSANE ROOT – Mentioned by Banquo in Macbeth as if to say, “Are we crazy?” It is identified as Henbane, a poison that the Roman natural philosopher Pliny called “offensive to the understanding”; it could produce a maniacal delirium but was also used as a “dangerous sedative for the insane.” See HEBENON/HEBONA.

IVY – A native climbing plant, it was considered feminine because of its twining habit. Its evergreen leaves signify immortality, but Shakespeare also draws human parallels in its unchecked growth and smothering habits.

KECKSIES – A low, hairy herb with a creeping stem, but the solitary flowers, like wee snapdragons, are rather handsome. Thomas and Faircloth note in their excellent dictionary, “Its only appearance [in Henry V] is in a catalogue of weeds which paints a woeful picture of the French landscape following the English invasion.” Previously posited as a colloquialism for HEMLOCK, Kickxia spuria has the distinction of the common name of round-leaved fluellin, Fluellen being a character in the play who rather fits its description.

KNOT-GRASS – Not a grass, just a jointed weed with a creeping habit. It strangles other plants in its path and is tough to eradicate; assumed to stunt growth if sipped as an infusion.

LADY-SMOCKS/CUCKOO-FLOWERS – Meadow flowers perhaps named for clothes strewn in the fields to dry [a common custom over LAVENDER fields]. Its alternate moniker may reflect the return of the cuckoo; it was noted for flowering round about Lady Day, March 25, also known as New Year’s Day for Elizabethans, when the calendar year number changed.

LARK’S-HEELS – This flower, thought to be Larkspur, makes a solo appearance, in the flower-filled song in Two Noble Kinsmen.

LAVENDER – A favorite of the knot gardens so popular in Queen Elizabeth’s time for their formal geometric designs and opportunity to show off exotic imports in neat hedges; also a strewing herb to banish bad smells, freshen laundry by laying linen out on swathes of it, and as a scented sedative. Perdita calls it “hot Lavender” because it thrives in high heat.

LEATHER-COAT – See APPLE and CARAWAY.

LEEK – In the Onion family, a staple food of the poor because it’s easy to grow. Shakespeare mines it for comic effect for its color and Welsh connections—it is the national emblem of Wales.

LEMON – Popular in cooking and perfumes; lined with CLOVES, LEMONS stepped in for ORANGES as pomanders. Also provided opportunities for wordplay, interchanged with leman as lover.

LETTUCE – In every herb garden for “salad days,” often used generically for various greens used for salads. Lettuce could stimulate the appetite, aid digestion, sooth a hangover, and double as both aphrodisiac and anaphrodisiac—quite a feat.

LILY/LILY OF THE VALLEY – The Madonna Lily has long been the poetic barometer of whiteness, clear skin, delicate fingers, virginity . . . and lily-livered. But Lily of the Valley, too, is a candidate for some of these comparisons, still white, but a better fit for “small as a wand.”

LINE TREE [LIME/LINDEN] – This threefold mention happens in Tempest, and it seems to be the Line-grove line that prompted the identification as the fragrant Lime or Linden tree. But given that Lime/Linden trees are unlikely to call a [Mediterranean] island climate home, that the other two references are clearly to laundry, and that Line is also a term for FLAX [derived from the Latin], the wrong tree may have been barked up all these years.

LOCUST/CAROB TREE – Locust beans, fruit of the exotic Carob tree, were used as a sweetener; a precursor for chocolate, which Elizabethans would never taste [it didn’t debut in England till the 1650s]. Native to the Mediterranean, especially Spain and Cyprus—remarkably site-specific for Iago’s diabolical observation.

LONG PURPLES/DEAD MEN’S FINGERS – A debated bloom in the long list of plants Gertrude recites in her report of Ophelia’s death, but her further description: “that liberal shepherds give a grosser name” clinches it for the Cuckoo-pint [a.k.a. lords-and-ladies, wild arum] since it perfectly fulfills all the specifications: it’s long, it’s purple, it could look like a dead finger, or a naughtier body part. Even Dr. Levi Fox of the Shakespeare Birthplace Trust forwent the previous ID of “early purple orchid” in favor of the flower that more “aptly conveys” the poet’s meaning.

MACE – see NUTMEG.

MALLOW – The common, or wild Mallow, originally a wasteland denizen, can also be cultivated. Its solo mention is in the context of its intrusive nature as a weed.

MANDRAGORA/MANDRAKE – The forked root of this poisonous, narcotic plant is often anthropomorphized into screaming men or shrieking creatures dug out of the earth. Probably a sixteenth-century introduction, but Mandrake was in regular use much earlier. Although the terms were interchangeable, mandrake is usually the plant; mandragora is the drug. Mandrake had myriad health benefits, but when administered with poppy, it had a particular potency.

MARI GOLD/MARY-BUD – Mary-buds is the name Cloten in Cymbeline uses for Marigolds, whose flowers have the charming habit of following the sun to open and close; Marigold is sometimes borrowed for other plants with similar behavior. It was used for hair color and also as a cheap substitute for SAFFRON to color and flavor food. Figurative associations included death, resurrection, and hope.

MARJORAM – A staple culinary and strewing herb, the native plant, especially the sweet version, had a host of medicinal applications: to comfort the brain, for melancholy, urinary retention, and, usefully, as an antidote to poison. Its scent made it popular bound up in fragrant posies to inhale as an antidote to the stench of sixteenth-century hygiene.

MARROW – see GOURD/PUMPION.

MAST – see ACORN.

MEDLAR – A fruit fraught with metaphor in Shakespeare, beyond the wordplay with medlar/meddler. The small russet “apple” is inedible until it has begun to rot, a fact Shakespeare mines for sexual innuendo. Scholars have glossed the fruit as female genitalia to explain the scenes where it appears, but recent commentators have cried foul. The fruit in French is called cul de chien [dog’s arse tree], in English slang, the “open-arse” fruit, so it’s pretty clear where Mercutio is suggesting that Romeo put his “Poperin’ pear.” Once you’ve got that, the scenes where Medlar is mentioned become clear. Or clearer. It helps to see the fruit.

MINT – Kitchen and strewing herb, a staple for cooks and medical practitioners who could determine which of a wide variety would serve their purpose. Mints have a laundry list of medicinal applications.

MISTLETOE – Evergreen and parasitic, Mistletoe appears near the tops of an array of trees such as APPLE, OAK, Poplar, and LIME. Beloved by Druids for its magical protection, the Scandinavians believed that the god of Peace was killed by an arrow of Mistletoe, and when his life was restored it was moved to the protection of the goddess of Love; kissing underneath a sliver of it honors its transformation from a missive of destruction into one of love.

MOSS – True Mosses grow in large quantities in damp places, on stones or trees; Moss could fill or line roofs, and was collected as bedding for cattle. Moss could signify age, venerability, wildness, and lack of civilized discourse . . . or the grave.

MULBERRIES – Both the White and the Black Mulberry are in the same botanical family as the FIG. Whereas the white is a fast-growing tree, the black, dedicated by the Ancients to Minerva, is notably slow, with fruit so tender to the touch, the slightest pressure causes stain. In the source story from Ovid’s Metamorphoses, the fruit was originally white, so the tree Thisbe finds shade under is likely the White Mulberry. In 1609, King James had a get-rich-quick scheme: To be a player in the growing silk trade, he bought 100,000 mulberry trees and set his worms to work. The problem? His were Black; silkworms only eat White Mulberry leaves.

MUSHROOM/TOADSTOOL – Fleshy fungal orbs, Mushrooms generally represent the edible species, while Toadstools are the toxic ones. Both home and dance floor for fairy rings, Mushrooms are renowned for their rapid growth.

MUSTARD – In the CABBAGE family, mustard includes the native black Mustard but can refer to any plant of the family, and almost any of them can be made into the condiment; Tewksbury indicates where it was made. Mustard plasters were conventional poultices. The biblical quote about having the faith of a Mustard seed refers to how tiny they are, an indication of the size of Titania’s fairy minion, Mustardseed.

MYRTLE – A small evergreen tree with dark, shiny leaves, soft wood, and creamy, aromatic flowers. Traditional in wedding garlands, wreaths, and bouquets, perhaps because Venus was honored with the planting of myrtle groves.

NARCISSUS – see DAFFODIL.

NETTLES – Populating open pasture, stinging Nettles cause considerable discomfort, a burning sensation [although they are revered as number six of the nine sacred herbs]. Nettle in general can refer to any plant with similar irritating qualities, lending itself easily to metaphor. Comforting caveat: The remedy is always nearby, in the form of DOCK leaves.

NUTMEG/MACE – Native to the East Indies, the hard aromatic seed and the reddish aril [known as Mace], which is the covering to the kernel, were both coveted spices, valued for their herbal and medicinal benefits as well as for adding depth of flavor to foods.

OAK – Renowned for its size, long life, and fine wood, the Oak is replete with metaphor: strength, reliability, durability, solidity, toughness . . . Oak wreaths heralded victory; with their ACORNS, Oaks represented an investment in the future. Sometimes called Jove’s tree due to its mighty reputation. There is a Duke’s Oak [A Midsummer Night’s Dream] in Sabbioneta, Italy, known as the Little Athens of the Renaissance thanks to the Gonzaga family. Herne’s Oak in Merry Wives of Windsor is derived from the legend of Herne the Hunter, who reputedly lived in the time of Richard II.

OATS – A cereal grain grown for food and fodder, Oats were easier to grow, so cheaper and less valued than WHEAT. Oaten [like Hempen] was a derogatory term suggesting rustics rather than city sophisticates; oat straw provided reeds for rustic pipes.

OLIVE – From Greek mythological times, the Olive was an emblem of peace. And although it didn’t proliferate as a tree in England, its fruits and oil were used and enjoyed.

ONION – In the genus with LEEK and GARLIC; all were eaten both raw and cooked, and generally associated with poorer folk. Onion’s ability to cause bad breath and tears is older than Shakespeare.

ORANGE – The first of the citrus trees to be cultivated in England, by the late sixteenth century, Oranges were a ready commodity. Imported from Spain in large quantities, they were sold in theaters as refreshment, by “orange-women,” who were considered little better than prostitutes [akin to costermongers, see APPLE].

OXLIP – Kissing cousins of COWSLIP and PRIMROSE, Oxlips are a deeper yellow, and their flowers fall all to one side; they rarely venture outside East Anglia.

PALM – Growing in tropical climes, the leaves or fronds were worn by pilgrims returning from the Holy Land or other religious sites. Branches were carried on Palm Sunday [WILLOW was often a local substitute]. From ancient times, the Palm symbolized peace and victory; it still implies preeminence or honor when expressed as “to bear the palm,” “to yield the palm.”

PANSY/LOVE-IN-IDLENESS – The native Heartsease, or wild Pansy was probably Shakespeare’s Love-in-idleness. Its name was said to derive from the French pensées, meaning thoughts, as Ophelia says. Medicinal uses included the treatment of heart problems, hence the apt nickname.

PARMACETI – Shepherd’s Purse a.k.a. Poor Man’s Parmaceti, the juice of which, according to Gerard, could staunch internal bleeding, although the “inward bruise” Hotspur speaks of may not be a physical one. The Latin word bursa, meaning purse, could suggest a payoff was the best healer.

PARSLEY – A leafy kitchen garden staple and culinary herb, freshened meats, bulked up soups and stews.

PEACH – Skipping this fruit would have been justified since Shakespeare only mentions them in terms of color, but Elizabethans were acquainted with Peaches. The Queen was gifted at least seven times with boxes of the luscious fruit from Genoa. But she was far more often given peach-colored clothing: waistcoats, petticoats, nightgowns, sleeves [perhaps safer given that King John was said to have died from a surfeit of Peaches]. Fashion fads embraced the color of the year just as today’s Pantone palette. Shakespeare references the color for satin and stockings, but also slips in the meaning to accuse [impeach].

PEAR/WARDEN – Just as available but more valued than the APPLE due to its sensitive flesh and, like the Apple, the fruit gives rise to metaphor—mostly sexual in nature [such as Parolles’ comparison to the womb]. The Popering or, as Mercutio says when referencing the MEDLAR, “Poperin’ pear,” is the Flemish-named fruit used as a bawdy homophone for “pop her in.” Warden [or Lukeward] Pears were considered good for baking.

PEAS/PEASE/PEASCOD/SQUASH – Fresh young Peas were a delicacy, but mostly the common kitchen-garden plant was fodder, or food for common folk. Peas were easily dried for winter and rehydrated [and preferable to the notoriously “windy” bean]. The pod or peas[e]cod contained the individual peas [and provided ample opportunities for sexual innuendo]; young peapods were called Squash. The fairy named Peaseblossom suggests a delicate, pretty little sprite.

PEONY – Over the years, various editors and scholars have mistaken “pioned” for “peony” [or “piony”] in the Tempest line “Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims . . .” Determined to sow flowers where there are none, the wishful thinking extended to changing “twilled” to “tulip’d” or “willow’d,” even “lilied”! A more sober “fix” made it “tilled,” better because pion is an archaic term for dig [and the root of pioneer], and twilled is defined as [variously], leveled, ridged, or trimmed, so those banks, like the other ground mentioned [leas, meads], are being prepared for plantings far less romantic than frilly flowers. In fact, no other flowers appear in the speech or scene. As happens so often, Shakespeare is usually right the first time. So you will find no peonies here.

PEPPER – Both the plant and its fruit were desirable commodities; the dried berries were cracked or ground with special boxes made to carry the spice, although “peppercorn rent’ meant a nominal amount. Peppered meant to be pelted—the peppercorns perhaps recalling popguns—or ruined, done for.

PIG-NUT – Also called Earth-nuts, this native plant of grasslands and woodlands has sweetish, edible tuberous roots, but they leave a sour aftertaste. More commonly eaten in Shakespeare’s day, but still popular with pigs, who will dig for them.

PIMPERNELL – The [scarlet] Pimpernell, first name Henry in the Induction scene of Taming of the Shrew, pops up alongside his buddy Peter Turph, as part of Christopher Sly’s dream—men that never existed. The low-growing weed, aka shepherd’s weatherglass, closes up under threatening skies, and is pictured on page 6 since, as a Character, it has no quotes attributed to it.

PINE – General consensus points to the Scots Pine, a tall evergreen valued for its resin and long, straight trunks used as ships’ masts. Figuratively, Shakespeare mines its comparative majesty, height, and strength.

PIPPIN – see APPLE.

PLANE – The sole mention, in Two Noble Kinsmen, of this spreading tree with large leaves and smooth bark is not to be confused with the familiar “London” Plane, a circa seventeenth-century hybrid [but plane did sometimes refer to the SYCAMORE due to similarity of foliage].

PLANTAIN, PLANTAN – Shakespeare is not talking about a banana leaf; this common weed found by roadsides was one of the nine sacred Anglo-Saxon herbs, prized for its medicinal properties, especially as an astringent to treat wounds and staunch blood flow. It’s essentially a Band-Aid, which is why Romeo uses it as gentle sarcasm in response to Benvolio’s lame romantic advice. It’s a part of Moth’s joke in Love’s Labour’s Lost when he questions how an APPLE [Costard] could have a shin wound. The “plantage” Troilus refers to is more likely a reference to plants in general.

PLUMS/PLUM TREE/DAMSONS/PRUNES – Succulent fruits found wild and in orchards, favorites in pottage or puddings; gum from the bark had medicinal uses, as did Prunes, the dried fruit preserved to overwinter, or stewed to soften, and serving as a laxative. Damsons are plum-like fruits too tart to eat raw so made into conserves, but they also had sexual connotations. Prunes, sometimes associated with brothels, declined in popularity in the sixteenth century in favor of Raisins, although the terms were often interchangeable.

POMEGRANATE – The small fruit-bearing tree was widely cultivated in warm countries. Symbolic of sexuality and fertility because of its abundance of kernels but, as the emblem of Persephone, queen of the underworld, its mention by Juliet is foreboding. At one time thought to be the apple of Eden. A more peculiar mention in Henry IV suggests it is the name of a room in the tavern.

POMEWATER – see APPLE.

POPERING – see PEAR.

POPPY – Iago is invoking the Opium Poppy, renowned for its narcotic and soporific properties. Even more menacingly, the flower had serious to fatal side effects if used together with Mandrake.

POTATO – You say Potato, they say Sweet Potato . . . Scholars debate which tuber is meant, although the Sweet Potato, considered an aphrodisiac [“procuring bodily lust,” said Gerard], fits for Falstaff’s line [see ERINGOES], and it certainly looks more like a finger for Thersites’ insult. But Gerard is also pictured proudly holding the new “Virginia” potatoes, which he called bastards.

PRIMROSE – Sort of the primary sibling in a family that includes COWSLIPS and OXLIPS, this plant’s pretty yellow flowers, almost always described as pale, pop up on banks and leas in early spring, so can represent the first or best of something [first flowering, first fruits]. Following the primrose path suggests blithely taking a course of action without foresight or proper consideration.

PRUNES – see PLUMS.

PUMPION – see GOURD/MARROW.

QUINCE – Akin to the PEAR, but too hard and tart to eat raw, Quince is cooked into pies [a popular gift for Queen Elizabeth], jellies, and marmalades; its reputation for increasing fertility and fostering smarter children made it a must for pregnant women and brides, hence its inclusion in Juliet’s marriage preparations. And Peter Quince, the carpenter of A Midsummer Night’s Dream? Perhaps he has a tart personality.

RADISH – Fodder for food, and Falstaff ‘s fantasies, Radishes could be eaten cooked or raw, or carved as Imogen does [see TURNIP]; used medically they reputedly made one thin and could cure baldness.

RAISINS – see GRAPES.

REEDS – Shakespeare uses these plants, found en masse at water’s edge or in marshlands, more often descriptively than purposely, as for thatch. As hair, a thin voice, a metaphor for fright or weakness, Reeds were ubiquitous, utilitarian, and humble according to Aesop’s fable of the OAK and the Reed. See RUSHES, GRASSES.

RHUBARB – The sole mention in Macbeth attests to the fact that Rhubarb was used medicinally, rather than eaten in Shakespeare’s time. Gerard illustrates Turkie, or Turkish Rhubarb, as do we.

RICE – The only mention of this imported grain is the shopping list in Winter’s Tale. Reverend Ellacombe suggests Shakespeare may have seen the plant growing in Gerard’s London garden.

ROSE – Is defining a Rose possible? Perhaps it is best to default to the two Gertrudes here: An artist of gardens themselves, Gertrude Jekyll’s sage observation that a gardener is to “acquire a knowledge of what to do, but also to gain some wisdom in perceiving what it is well to let alone” is a more active version of Gertrude Stein’s penultimate definition: “Rose is a rose is a rose.” Since Shakespeare populates his prose and poetry with Roses far more than with any other flower, he can speak for himself on their infinite variety. In and among his many mentions, there are a few specific flowers that warrant some brief delineation:

RED ROSE – [Rosa gallica] also crimson, vermillion; see also YORK/LANCASTER ROSES.

DAMASK ROSE – [Rosa damascena] with origins in Damascus; scent inspired the proverb “sweet as Damask Roses”; often compared to complexion; Gerard says it is “of a pale red colour and of a more pleasant smell, and fitter for meate or medicine.”

WHITE ROSE – [Rosa alba] technically, never satisfactorily identified; Lys de Bray, in her charming book Fantastic Garlands, calls it “a perfumed tangle of rose history that will never be fully unravelled.”

PROVINCIAL/PROVENÇAL ROSE – [Rosa centifolia] reference Provence, France. When Hamlet refers to it, he means to be provocative, flashy, affected. Gerard calls it the great Holland Rose; a.k.a. Cabbage Rose.

MUSK-ROSE – [Rosa arvensis] a.k.a. Trailing Rose; prized more for its unique scent than for its beauty

ROSE OF MAY – [Rosa majalis] Gerard calls this the Cinnamon or Cannell Rose.

ROSE – [Rosa canina] a wild climbing rose; older folk names include Dogberry and Witch’s Brier; see also THORNS.

BRIAR ROSE – a.k.a. Scotch Rose; see BRIERS, EGLANTINE, also THORNS on roses.

CAKES of ROSES, ROSE WATER – as Roses were considered the penultimate beauty, they were used then, as now, for cosmetic purposes; looking to the Doctrine of Signatures, like to like, to use the Rose was to become the Rose.

WAR OF THE ROSES

RED AND WHITE ROSES were the emblems of the HOUSES OF LANCASTER and YORK. With the roses alone: A long scene in Act II of Henry VI, Part 1, establishes the conflict, lighted on in Act IV, with more rose conflict in Henry VI, Part 3, then the resolve in the last act of Richard III, in a speech by Richmond, the future King Henry VII, which will unite the factions of Plantagenet, and form the Tudor Rose . . . and the Tudor Dynasty. What’s remarkable? The tension is clear through only the mention of Roses. And the idea that they are fighting with flowers.

ROSEMARY – Dew of the sea [Rosmarinus] invokes the bracing fragrance of this multiuse herb. Prized for its culinary, medicinal, and cosmetic applications. Shakespeare cites it most often as an herb of remembrance. Used for strengthening the memory, the scent became a kindle to lost energy; a BACHELOR’S BUTTON of sorts to make a lovers’ tryst more memorable; a reminder of the dearly departed; even rubbed on the head to remind hair to grow.

RUE/HERB of GRACE – The grace that follows repentance or regret is what connects the two names for this garden plant. Cultivated for medicinal uses, the yellow flowers and bluish green leaves emit a powerfully pungent scent that Shakespeare alternately describes as “sour” or sweet “nose-herbs.” Gerard cites it as an antidote for Wolfsbane [ACONITUM] and toxic MUSHROOMS.

RUSHES/BULRUSH – An array of marsh plants with stiff, often hollow stems, which, when filled with animal fat, made poor men’s candles. Practical domestic use included carpeting the floors of the wealthy to absorb smells and mask dirt. Rush rings, made from the stems, served as marriage tokens for common folk [often sans the ceremony]; Lavatch twists the rush ring custom into a bawdy joke. The Bulrush, a.k.a. Sweet Sedge [illustrated below], cited in Two Noble Kinsmen, could almost suggest dredlocks. See also REEDS, SEDGE, and GRASSES.

RYE – A crop akin to WHEAT but considered inferior, even though it’s sturdier and more tolerant of less-than-optimum conditions.

SAFFRON – It takes the yellow stigmas of nine crocuses to get one grain of good saffron, that’s over four thousand flowers for one ounce. This accounts for its high cost, but it was still a less-expensive option than the gold leaf used for manuscript illumination. In turn, MARIGOLDS were an even cheaper knockoff of the coveted deep golden food coloring. Saffron Walden, in Essex, was named for the plentiful crop, as was Saffron Hill in the Camden area of London.

SAMPHIRE – a.k.a. Sea Fennel, it grows on cliff sides. Its name is thought to be an Anglicized “herbe St. Pierre”—St. Peter’s symbol being a rock jutting out from the sea. In King Lear, Edgar plays What Job Would I Hate? as he feigns watching a harvester of the succulent plant. Gerard was a fan: “The leaves kept in pickle and eaten in sallads with oile and vinegar . . . wholesome for the stoppings of the liver, milt and kidnies. It is the pleasantest sauce . . . best agreeing with man’s body.”

SAVORY – Highly aromatic, this hardy Mediterranean herb is included in Perdita’s list of “middle summer” flowers “given to men of middle age,” perhaps partly because its juice was thought to cure “dimness of the eyes,” according to botanist Nicholas Culpeper. “Mercury claims dominion over this herb,” he notes, believing that Summer Savory was better than Winter.

SEDGE – Growing on watery banks and in marshy areas, it can be both an individual plant and a plurality of coarse GRASSES and RUSH-like plants; it is assumed that Shakespeare employs a more generic use.

SENNA – see CYME.

SPEAR-GRASS – Several options have been posited as the plant that Bardolph [Henry IV] suggests for use to induce a nosebleed. Pictured is Couch-grass [crossed with Horsetail], for its long, slender reed lined with rough spikelets. See GRASSES.

SQUASH – see PEAS.

STRAWBERRY – A native, low-growing fruit, the small alpine version is found in the wild and in cultivated gardens, such as at the estate of the Bishops of Ely in Holborn. The Strawberries grown there were said to be the best in London; Shakespeare includes this local lore in both Henry V and Richard III. The berry was also a popular motif for embroidery, although with contradictory symbolism: purity and innocence vs. sexuality and jealousy—all of that is in play when it appears, fatally so, on Desdemona’s handkerchief.

STUBBLE – see WHEAT.

SUGAR – This inclusion was tenuous, given that sugar is a refined product removed from the original Sugarcane plant. But . . . it is a plant. Gerard had a go at growing it and Reverend Ellacombe believes Shakespeare may have seen it. So, included are the quotes that seem to refer to the actual substance, not the adjective [i.e., “sugar’d words,” although the line of demarcation can be fuzzy]. As noted in ALMOND, Elizabethans’ passion for sugar led them to candy nuts [sweetmeats], flowers, and seeds [comfits]; make sirrops, suckets [candied fruit peels], and jellies. Banquets featured sugar-plate, crafted from sugar paste and egg white, elaborately decorated and personalized, sometimes with a poem. Known for her sweet tooth, Queen Elizabeth was gifted with a sugar-plate castle and sugar loaves [cone-shaped solid sugar for transport, which was then shaved or chunked], plus a barrel of sucket in the 1560s. By 1598, a German visitor reported “her Teeth black, a defect the English seem subject to, from their too great use of sugar.”

SYCAMORE – Although scholars have debated precisely which tree is meant in Shakespeare’s three references, a homophonic approach might be more rewarding: syc-amore = sick of love. Certainly Desdemona’s melancholy melody notes her grief over Othello’s mind diseased with jealousy; Love’s Labour’s Lost’s aloof, self-loving French courtier Boyet only reports on others’ amatory imbroglios; Benvolio seeks out Romeo to assuage his heartsickness over Rosaline. Curiously, the “grove of sycamore” where he spots his friend “westward” of “this city side” actually existed in Verona; some trees still stand by the western wall today.

THISTLE – Invasive weed covered with pricks and a globular head inviting to bees, the Thistle is handsome enough to be the floral emblem of Scotland. Thistle can be a generic term for an array of prickly plants; in Henry V they are an indication of neglect. Donkeys are the only animals that feed on Thistles, so there’s an embedded joke in Bottom’s directive. See also CARDUUS BENEDICTUS/HOLY THISTLE.

THORNS – Any sharp-pointed spires or prickles on the stems, leaves, or heads of plants, or the plants themselves. These dangers lie in underbrush, thicket, deep woods, or a deceptive garden. Or metaphorically, such as in Gertrude’s heart. Ours include BLACKBERRY bramble, Milk THISTLE, HAWTHORN, and Scotch ROSE. See also BRIERS.

THYME – The three references in Shakespeare to this fragrant herb neatly encompass the three kinds of thyme: Oberon’s native variety, found on sandy heaths; Iago’s garden version of Mediterranean origin in his screed on health and personal responsibility; and finally, the Song in Two Noble Kinsmen that gives echo to Time itself as well as the strewing herb.

TOADSTOOL – see MUSHROOM.

TURNIP – This “potherb” gets one mention in Shakespeare, and usually a big laugh, when Anne Page prefers Death by Vegetable to marrying a foolish suitor in Merry Wives of Windsor. Cultivated for centuries, mostly as animal fodder, the [vitamin-rich] leaves were more frequently served at table, while roots were carved into “characters,” as Imogen does in Cymbeline.

VETCHES [see WHEAT] – Pretty enough to warrant its own page, Vetch’s delicate beauty also has a function: improving the soil of WHEAT fields. A legume in the PEA family, Vetches are also cultivated for forage, presumably why Iris [goddess of the rainbow and a plant herself! See FLAGS] includes it in her invocation of abundance for the young lovers of The Tempest.

VINE – When Shakespeare speaks of vines, he always means the grapevine—a symbol of fruitfulness [see GRAPES] or lack thereof, as when Adriana calls herself a Vine in need of her husband as an ELM to twine around. Vines and vineyards [which we omitted here] also symbolized possession and productivity.

VIOLET – Its fresh perfume alone inspires five mentions, but the tiny, delicately veined wildflower is also imbued with qualities of humility, gentleness, and faithfulness [a clue to Viola’s character in Twelfth Night, and conversely so for Malvolio]. PANSIES and other flowers of similar color were sometimes called Violets. Perhaps because of its drooping head, the Violet was considered virtuous, soporific, and an antidote to anger. An edible flower, the leaves and petals often graced salads and were paired with Onion dishes.

WALNUT – Not much is made of the mighty Walnut tree in Shakespeare, although it is suggested that his many mentions of NUTS generically could include the Walnut kernel. No, he refers to the capacious shell [comparatively speaking] as a hiding place or plaything. But the meat of the nut was enjoyed as a savory snack, or sugared for a sweetmeat.

WARDEN – see PEAR.

WHEAT/STUBBLE [see also VETCHES] – Wheat is the queen of crops—bread made from pure Wheat was a rare luxury; though near in kin to RYE and BARLEY, they were considered poor relations; CORN was an umbrella term for all three, and grain in general. STUBBLE refers to the threshed fields, primarily Wheat, but other grains as well. Wheat symbolized fertility and the bounty of the earth; to wear a wheaten garland indicated peace and plenty. The greening of Wheat was a sign of spring, a portent of abundance to come.

WILLOW/OSIER – The traditional weeping willow we often picture doesn’t actually arrive on the scene until c. 1700, but that hasn’t stopped artists from painting poor Ophelia beside one. Her “pendant boughs” may have been the “crack willow” due to its branches’ tendency to break suddenly. The Common Osier [Salix viminalis], with its slightly narrower leaves, was used interchangeably with WILLOW for basket weaving and garland making—wearing a Willow garland [or just singing about it, as Desdemona does] suggests grieving for lost love. In England, Willow was sometimes a stand-in on Palm Sunday for the Palm branches in church processions.

WOODBINE – see HONEYSUCKLE.

WORM WOOD/DIAN’S BUD – Considered the mother of all herbs [in the mugwort family], and associated with Artemis, goddess of pregnancy [or her Roman counterpart, Diana], its bitter taste helped wean breast-feeding children, as the Nurse natters on about in her bawdy reminiscence of Juliet. One of the nine sacred herbs of the Lacnunga, an Anglo-Saxon herbal, it was an antidote to toxic TOADSTOOLS, and a barrier to moths and fleas on clothing and bed linen. Oberon applies it as a cure for lovesickness; it is a primary ingredient in vermouth and absinthe.

YEW – This native tree is a traditional symbol of mourning. It appears six times in Shakespeare [maybe seven, surreptitiously], always to do with death; its appearance onstage could be a harbinger of poisoning, such as Balthasar and Paris citing Yew trees in the churchyard, while in the nearby tomb Romeo drank poison. Its evergreen foliage is fatal, as are the seeds [though not their red casing]. Yew is the strongest candidate for the HEBENON/HEBONA poison in Hamlet.

** Our petals now are ended . . .**