BEFORE proceeding to examine the ornithology of Shakespeare, it may be well to take a glance at his knowledge of natural history in general. Pope has expressed the opinion that whatever object of nature or branch of science Shakespeare either speaks of or describes, it is always with competent if not with exclusive knowledge. His descriptions are always exact, his metaphors appropriate, and remarkably drawn from the true nature and inherent qualities of each subject. There can indeed be little doubt that Shakespeare must have derived the greater portion of his knowledge of nature from his own observation, and no one can fail to be delighted with the variety and richness of the images which he has by this means produced. Whether we accompany him to the woods and fields, midst "daisies pied and violets blue," or sit with him "under the shade of melancholy boughs," whether we B follow him to "the brook that brawls along the wood," or to that sea "whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege of watery Neptune," we are alike instructed by his observations, and charmed with his apt descriptions. How often do the latter strike us as echoes of our own experience, sent forth in fitter tones than we could find. His A sportsman is oft-times more or less a naturalist. rambles in search of game bring him in contact with creatures of such curious structure and habits, with insects and plants of such rare beauty, that the purpose of his walk is for the time forgotten, and he turns aside from sport, to admire and learn from nature. That Shakespeare was both a sportsman and a naturalist, there is much evidence to show. During the age in which he lived "hawking" was much in vogue. Throughout the Plays, we find frequent allusions to this sport, and the accurate employment of terms used exclusively in falconry, as well as the beautiful metaphors derived therefrom, prove that our poet had much practical knowledge on the subject. We shall have occasion later to discuss his knowledge of falconry at greater length. It will suffice for the present to observe that there are many passages in the Plays which to one unacquainted with the habits of animals and birds, or ignorant of hawking phraseology, would be wholly unintelligible, but which are otherwise found to contain the most beautiful and forcible metaphors. As instances of this may be cited that passage in Othello (Act iii. Sc. 3), where the Moor compares his suspected wife to a "haggard falcon," and the hawking scene in Act ii. of the Second Part of King Henry VI.* Shakespeare, although a contemplative man, appears to have found but little "recreation" in fishing, and the most enthusiastic disciple of Izaak Walton would find it difficult to illustrate a work on angling with quotations from Shakespeare. He might refer us to Twelfth Night (Act ii. Sc. 5), where Maria, on the appearance of Malvolio, exclaims, "Here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling;" and to the song of Caliban in The Tempest (Act ii. Sc. 2), "No more dams I'll make for fish." Possibly, by straining a point or two, he might ask with Benedick, in Much Ado about Nothing (Act i. Sc. 1), "Do you play the flouting Jack?" But our poet seems to have considered "The pleasant'st angling is to see the fish Much Ado, Act iii. Sc. 1.† These passages will be found duly criticised in Chapter II. In the following passage from The Tempest, Shakespeare, à propos of fish, gives one of many proofs of his knowledge of human nature. Trinculo comes upon the strange form of Caliban lying flat on the sands :--"What have we here? A man, or a fish? dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish: a very ancient and fishlike smell; a kind of, not of the newest, poor-John. A strange fish! Were I in England now (as once I was), and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver: there would this monster, make a man: His forte lay more in hunting and fowling than in fishing,* and in all that relates to deer-stalking (as practised in his day, when the deer was killed with cross-bow or bow and arrow), to deer-hunting with hounds, and to coursing, we find him fully informed. In the less noble art of bird-catching † he was probably no mean adept, while the knowledge which he displays of the habits of our wild animals, as the fox, the badger, the weasel, and the wild cat, could only have been acquired by one accustomed to much observation by flood and field. On each of these subjects a chapter might be written, but it will suffice for our present purpose to draw attention only to some of the more remarkable passages in support of the assertions above made. Deer-shooting was a favourite sport of both sexes in Shakespeare's day, and to enable the ladies to enjoy it in safety, "stands," or "standings," were erected in many parks, and concealed with boughs. From these the ladies with bow and arrow, or cross-bow, shot at the deer as they were driven past them by the keepers. any strange beast there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian!"- Tempest, Act ii. Sc. 2. The author of "The Treatyse of Fysshynge wyth an Angle, 1496," makes the following quaint remarks on the superiority of "Fysshynge" over “Huntynge" :— 'For huntynge, as to myn entent, is too laboryous, for the hunter must alwaye renne and followe his houndes: traueyllynge and swetynge full sore. He blowyth tyll his lyppes blyster. And when he weenyth it be an hare, full oft it is an hegge hogge. Thus he chasyth and wote not what." †The subject of Bird-catching will be fully discussed in a subsequent chapter. Queen Elizabeth was extremely fond of this sport, and the nobility who entertained her in her different progresses, made large hunting parties, which she usually joined when the weather was favourable. She frequently amused herself in following the hounds. "Her Majesty," says a courtier, writing to Sir Robert Sidney, "is well and excellently disposed to hunting, for every second day she is on horseback, and continues the sport long."* At this time Her Majesty had just entered the seventyseventh year of her age, and was then at her palace at Oatlands. Often, when she was not disposed to hunt herself, she was entertained with a sight of the sport. At Cowdray Park, Sussex, then the seat of Lord Montagu (1591), Her Majesty one day after dinner saw "sixteen bucks, all having fayre lawe, pulled downe with greyhounds in a laund or lawn."+ No wonder, then, that the ladies of England, with the royal example before their eyes, found such delight in the chase during the age of which we speak, and not content with being mere spectators, vied with each other in the skilful use of the bow. To this pastime Shakespeare has made frequent allusion. In Love's Labour's Lost, the first scene of the fourth act is laid in a park, where the Princess asks,— * Letter from Rowland White to Sir Robert Sidney, dated 12th Sept. 1600. † Nichols' Progresses, Processions, and Magnificent Festivities of Queen Elizabeth," vol. iii. p. 90. (1788-1805.) |