Читать книгу The Ornithology of Shakespeare - James Edmund Harting - Страница 3

Table of Contents

AT the head of the diurnal birds of prey, most authors have agreed in placing the Eagles. Their large size, powerful flight, and great muscular strength, give them a superiority which is universally admitted. In reviewing, therefore, the birds of which Shakespeare has made mention, no apology seems to be necessary for commencing with the genus Aquila.

Throughout the works of our great dramatist, frequent allusions may be found to an eagle, but the word “eagle” is almost always employed in a generic sense, and in a few instances only can we infer, from the context, that a particular species is indicated. Indeed, it is not improbable that in the poet’s opinion only one species of eagle existed. Be this as it may, the introduction of an eagle and his attributes, by way of simile or metaphor, has been accomplished by Shakespeare with much beauty and effect. Considered as the emblem of majesty, the eagle has been variously styled “the king of birds,” “the royal bird,” “the princely eagle,” and “Jove’s bird,” while so great is his power of vision, that an “eagle eye” has become proverbial.

POWER OF VISION.

“Behold, his eye,

As bright as is the eagle’s, lightens forth

Controlling majesty.”

Richard II. Act iii. Sc. 3.

The clearness of vision in birds is indeed extraordinary, and has been calculated, by the eminent French naturalist Lacépède, to be nine times more extensive than that of the farthest-sighted man. The opinion that the eagle possessed the power of gazing undazzled at the sun, is of great antiquity. Pliny relates that it exposes its brood to this test as soon as hatched, to prove if they be genuine or not. Chaucer refers to the belief in his “Assemblie of Foules”:—

“There mighten men the royal egal find,

That with his sharp look persith the sonne.”

So also Spenser, in his “Hymn of Heavenly Beauty,”—

“And like the native brood of eagle’s kind,

On that bright sun of glory fix their eyes.”

It is not surprising, therefore, that Shakespeare has borrowed the idea:—

AN EAGLE EYE.

“Nay, if thou be that princely eagle’s bird,

Show thy descent by gazing ’gainst the sun.”

Henry VI. Part III. Act ii. Sc. 1.

Again—

“What peremptory eagle-sighted eye

Dares look upon the heaven of her brow,

That is not blinded by her majesty?”

Love’s Labour’s Lost, Act iv. Sc. 3.

But in the same play and scene we are told—

“A lover’s eyes will gaze an eagle blind.”

And in this respect Paris was said to excel:—

“An eagle, madam,

Hath not so green, so quick, so fair an eye,

As Paris hath.”

Romeo and Juliet, Act iii. Sc. 5.

The supposition that the eye of the eagle is green must be regarded as a poetic license. In all the species of this genus with which we are acquainted, the colour of the iris is either hazel or yellow. But it would be absurd to look for exactness in trifles such as these.

POWER OF FLIGHT.

The power of flight in the eagle is no less surprising than his power of vision. Birds of this kind have been killed which measured seven or eight feet from tip to tip of wing, and were strong enough to carry off hares, lambs, and even young children. This strength of wing is not unnoticed by Shakespeare:—

“This was but as a fly by an eagle.”

Antony and Cleopatra, Act ii. Sc. 2.

And—

“An eagle flight, bold, and forth on,

Leaving no track behind.”

Timon of Athens, Act i. Sc. 1.

This last line recalls to mind the following allusion to the flight of the Jerfalcon:—“Then prone she dashes with so much velocity, that the impression of her path remains on the eye, in the same manner as that of the shooting meteor or flashing lightning, and you fancy that there is a torrent of falcon rushing for fathoms through the air.”26

Spenser, in the fifth book of his “Faerie Queene” (iv. 42), has depicted the grandeur of an eagle on the wing:—

“Like to an eagle in his kingly pride

Soring thro’ his wide empire of the aire

To weather his brode sailes.”

But notwithstanding his great powers of flight, we are reminded that the eagle is not always secure. Guns, traps, and other engines of destruction are directed against him, whenever and wheresoever opportunity occurs:—

“And often, to our comfort, shall we find

The sharded beetle in a safer hold

Than is the full-wing’d eagle.”

Cymbeline, Act iii. Sc. 3.

A GOOD OMEN.

With the Romans, the eagle was a bird of good omen. Josephus, the Jewish historian, says the eagle was selected for the Roman legionary standard, because he is the king of all birds, and the most powerful of them all, whence he has become the emblem of empire, and the omen of victory.27

Accordingly, we read in Julius Cæsar, Act v. Sc. 1:—

“Coming from Sardis, on our former ensign

Two mighty eagles fell; and there they perch’d,

Gorging and feeding from our soldiers’ hands.”

This incident is more fully detailed in North’s “Plutarch,” as follows:—“When they raised their campe, there came two eagles, that flying with a marvellous force, lighted upon two of the foremost ensigns, and alwaies followed the souldiers, which gave them meate and fed them, untill they came neare to the citie of Phillipes; and there one day onely before the battell, they both flew away.”

The ensign of the eagle was not peculiar, however, to the Romans. The golden eagle, with extended wings, was borne by the Persian monarchs,28 and it is not improbable that from them the Romans adopted it; while the Persians themselves may have borrowed the symbol from the ancient Assyrians, on whose banners it waved until Babylon was conquered by Cyrus.

As a bird of good omen, the eagle is often mentioned by Shakespeare:—

“I chose an eagle, and did avoid a puttock.”

Cymbeline, Act i. Sc. 2.

The name “Puttock” has been applied both to the Kite and the Common Buzzard, and both were considered birds of ill omen.

THE BIRD OF JOVE.

In Act iv. Sc. 2, of the same play, we read—

“I saw Jove’s bird, the Roman eagle, wing’d

From the spungy south to this part of the west,

There vanish’d in the sunbeams.”

This was said to portend success to the Roman host. In Izaak Walton’s “Compleat Angler,” we are furnished with a reason for styling the eagle “Jove’s bird.” The falconer, in discoursing on the merits of his recreation with a brother angler, says—“In the air my troops of hawks soar upon high, and when they are lost in the sight of men, then they attend upon and converse with the gods; therefore I think my eagle is so justly styled Jove’s servant in ordinary.”

“For the Roman eagle,

From south to west on wing soaring aloft,

Lessen’d herself, and in the beams o’ the sun

So vanish’d: which foreshadow’d our princely eagle,

The imperial Cæsar, should again unite

His favour with the radiant Cymbeline,

Which shines here in the west.”

Cymbeline, Act v. Sc. 5.

THE ROMAN EAGLE.

In a paper “On the Roman Imperial and Crested Eagles,”29 Mr. Hogg says—“The Roman Eagle, which is generally termed the Imperial Eagle, is represented with its head plain, that is to say, not crested. It is in appearance the same as the attendant bird of the ‘king of gods and men,’ and is generally represented as standing at the foot of his throne, or sometimes as the bearer of his thunder and lightning. Indeed he also often appears perched on the top of his sceptre. He is always considered as the attribute or emblem of ‘Father Jove.’ ”

A good copy of this bird of Jupiter, called by Virgil and Ovid “Jovis armiger,” from an antique group, representing the eagle and Ganymedes, may be seen in Bell’s “Pantheon,” vol. i. Also “a small bronze eagle, the ensign of a Roman legion,” is given in Duppa’s “Travels in Sicily” (2nd ed., 1829, tab. iv.). That traveller states, that the original bronze figure is preserved in the Museum of the Convent of St. Nicholas d’Arcun, at Catania. This Convent is now called Convento di S. Benedetto, according to Mr. G. Dennis, in his “Handbook of Sicily,” (p. 349); and he mentions this ensign as “a Roman legionary eagle in excellent preservation.”

THE ENSIGN OF THE EAGLE.

From the second century before Christ, the eagle is said to have become the sole military ensign, and it was mostly small in size, because Florus (lib. 4, cap. 12) relates that an ensign-bearer, in the wars of Julius Cæsar, in order to prevent the enemy from taking it, pulled off the eagle from the top of the gilt pole, and hid it by placing it under cover of his belt.

In later times, the eagle was borne with the legion, which, indeed, occasionally took its name, “aquila.” This eagle, which was also adopted by the Roman emperors for their imperial symbol, is considered to be the Aquila heliaca of Savigny (imperialis of Temminck), and resembles our golden eagle, Aquila chrysaëtos, in plumage, though of a darker brown, and with more or less white on the scapulars. It differs also in the structure of the foot. It inhabits Southern Europe, North Africa, Palestine, and India. Living examples of this species may be seen at the present time in the Gardens of the Zoological Society.

HABITS AND ATTITUDES.

Sicilius, in Cymbeline (Act v. Sc. 4), speaking of the apparition and descent of Jupiter, who was seated upon an eagle, says—

“The holy eagle

Stoop’d, as to foot us: his ascension is

More sweet than our blest fields: his royal bird

Prunes the immortal wing, and cloys his beak,

As when his god is pleas’d.”

“Prune” signifies to clean and adjust the feathers, and is synonymous with plume. A word more generally used, perhaps, than either, is preen.

Cloys is, doubtless, a misprint for cleys, that is, claws. Those who have kept hawks must often have observed the habit which they have of raising one foot, and whetting the beak against it. This is the action to which Shakespeare refers. The same word occurs in Ben Jonson’s “Underwoods,” (vii. 29) thus:—

“To save her from the seize

Of vulture death, and those relentless cleys.”

The verb “to cloy” has a very different signification, namely, “to satiate,” “choke,” or “clog up.” Shakespeare makes frequent use of it.

In “Lucrece” it occurs:—

“But poorly rich, so wanteth in his store,

That, cloy’d with much, he pineth still for more.”

And again, in Richard II. (Act i. Sc. 3):—

“O, who can hold a fire in his hand,

By thinking on the frosty Caucasus?

Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite,

By bare imagination of a feast?”

See also Henry V. Act ii. Sc. 2.

Sometimes the word was written “accloy;” as, for instance, in Spenser’s “Faerie Queene” (ii. 7)—

“And with uncomely weeds the gentle wave accloyes.”

And in the same author’s “Shepheard’s Calendar” (February, 135)—

“The mouldie mosse which thee accloyeth.”

It is clear, therefore, that the word occurring in the fourth scene of the fifth act of Cymbeline, should be written cleys, and not cloys.

EAGLE’S EGGS.

But to return from this digression; there is a passage in the first act of Henry V. Sc. 2, which seems to deserve some notice while on the subject of eagles, i.e.:—

“For once the eagle England being in prey,

To her unguarded nest the weasel Scot

Comes sneaking, and so sucks her princely eggs.”

That the weasel sucks eggs, and is partial to such fare, is very generally admitted. Shakespeare alludes to the fact again in As You Like It (Act ii. Sc. 5), where Jaques says:—“I can suck melancholy out of a song, as a weasel sucks eggs.” But whether the weasel has ever been found in the same situation or at such an altitude as the eagle, is not so certain. A near relative of the weasel, however, namely, a marten-cat, was once found in an eagle’s nest. “The forester, having reason to think that the bird was sitting hard, peeped over the cliff into the eyrie. To his amazement, a marten was suckling her kittens in comfortable enjoyment.”30

The allusion above made to the “princely eggs,” reminds us of the princely bird which laid them, and those who have read the works of Shakespeare—and who has not?—must doubtless remember the beautiful simile uttered by Warwick when dying on the field of Barnet:—

“Thus yields the cedar to the axe’s edge,

Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle.”

Henry VI. Part III. Act v. Sc. 2.

The conscious superiority of the eagle is depicted by Tamora, who tells us:—

“The eagle suffers little birds to sing,

And is not careful what they mean thereby,

Knowing that with the shadow of his wing

He can at pleasure stint their melody.”

Titus Andronicus, Act iv. Sc. 4.

LONGEVITY OF THE EAGLE.

The great age to which this bird sometimes attains has been remarked by most writers on Ornithology. The Psalmist has beautifully alluded to it where he says of the righteous man—“His youth shall be renewed like the eagle’s.” A golden eagle, which had been nine years in the possession of Mr. Owen Holland, of Conway, lived thirty-two years with the gentleman who made him a present of it, but what its age was when the latter received it from Ireland is unknown.31 Another, that died at Vienna, was stated to have lived in confinement one hundred and four years.32 A white-tailed eagle captured in Caithness, died at Duff House in February, 1862, having been kept in confinement, by the late Earl of Fife, for thirty-two years. But even the eagle may be outlived. Apemantus asks of Timon:—

“Will these moss’d trees,

That have outliv’d the eagle, page thy heels,

And skip when thou point’st out?”

Timon of Athens, Act iv. Sc. 3.

The old text has “moyst trees.” The emendation, however, which was made by Hanmer, is strengthened by the line in As You Like It (Act iv. Sc. 3):—

“Under an oak, whose boughs were moss’d with age.”

In an old French “riddle-book,” entitled “Demands Joyous,” which was printed in English by Wynkyn de Worde in 1511 (a single copy only of which is said to be extant), is the following curious “demande” and “response.” It is here transcribed, as bearing upon the subject of the age of an eagle:—

“Dem. What is the age of a field-mouse?

Res. A year. And the life of a hedge-hog is three times that of a mouse; and the life of a dog is three times that of a hedge-hog; and the life of a horse is three times that of a dog; and the life of a man is three times that of a horse; and the life of a goose is three times that of a man; and the life of a swan is three times that of a goose; and the life of a swallow is three times that of a swan; and the life of an eagle is three times that of a swallow; and the life of a serpent is three times that of an eagle; and the life of a raven is three times that of a serpent; and the life of a hart is three times that of a raven; and an oak groweth 500 years, and fadeth 500 years.”

ITS AGE COMPUTED.

The Rev. W. B. Daniel alludes33 to “the received maxim that animals live seven times the number of years that bring them to perfection,” upon which computation the average life of an eagle would be twenty-one years. But this maxim is founded on a misconception. Fleurens, in his treatise “De la Longévité Humaine,” says that the duration of life in any animal is equal to five times the number of years requisite to perfect its growth, and that the growth has ceased when the bones have finally consolidated with their epiphyses, which in the young are merely cartilages.

Like many other rapacious birds, eagles are very fond of bathing, and it has been found essential to supply them with baths when in confinement, in order to keep them in good health. The freshness and vigour which they thus derive is alluded to in Henry IV. (Part I. Act iv. Sc. 1):—

“Hotspur. Where is his son,

The nimble-footed mad-cap Prince of Wales,

And his comrades? …

Vernon. All furnish’d, all in arms; …

Like eagles having lately bath’d.”

The larger birds of prey are no less fond of washing, though they care so little for water to drink, that it has been erroneously asserted that they never drink. “What I observed,” says the Abbé Spallanzani,34 “is, that eagles, when left even for several months without water, did not seem to suffer the smallest inconvenience from the want of it, but when they were supplied with water, they not only got into the vessel and sprinkled their feathers like other birds, but repeatedly dipped the beak, then raised the head, in the manner of common fowls, and swallowed what they had taken up. Hence it is evident that they drink.”

EAGLES TRAINED FOR HAWKING.

In Persia, Tartary, India, and other parts of the East, the eagle was formerly, and is still to a certain extent, used for hunting down the larger birds and beasts. In the thirteenth century, the Khan of Tartary kept upwards of two hundred hawks and eagles, some of which had been trained to catch wolves; and such was the boldness and power of these birds, that none, however large, could escape from their talons.35

Burton, in his “Anatomy of Melancholy,”36 quoting from Sir Antony Shirley’s “Travels,” says: “The Muscovian Emperours reclaim eagles, to let fly at hindes, foxes, &c., and such a one was sent for a present to Queen Elizabeth.”

A traveller to the Putrid Sea, in 1819, wrote: “Wolves are very common on these steppes; and they are so bold that they sometimes attack travellers. We passed by a large one, lying on the ground with an eagle, which had probably attacked him, by his side. Its talons were nearly buried in his back; in the struggle both had died.”37

TIRING.

Owing to the great difficulty in training them, as well as to the difficulty in obtaining them, eagles have rarely been trained to the chase in England. Some years since, Captain Green, of Buckden, in Huntingdonshire, had a fine golden eagle, which he had taught to take hares and rabbits;38 and this species has been found to be more tractable than any other.

Whether Shakespeare was aware of the use of trained eagles or not, we cannot say, but he has in many cases employed hawking terms in connection with this bird:—

“That hateful duke,

Whose haughty spirit, winged with desire,

Will cost my crown, and, like an empty eagle,

Tire on the flesh of me and of my son!”

Henry VI. Part III. Act i. Sc. 1.

The meaning of the word tire is thus explained by falconers. When a hawk was in training, it was often necessary to prolong her meal as much as possible, to prevent her from gorging; this was effected by giving her a tough or bony bit to tire on; that is, to tear, or pull at.

“Even as an empty eagle, sharp by fast,

Tires with her beak on feathers, flesh, and bone,

Shaking her wings, devouring all in haste,

Till either gorge be stuff’d, or prey be gone.”

Venus and Adonis.

So also, in Timon of Athens (Act iii. Sc. 6), one of the lords says:—

“Upon that were my thoughts tiring when we encounter’d.”

THE EAGLE’S EYRIE.

In the following passage, two hawking terms are used in connection with the eagle:—

“Know, the gallant monarch is in arms,

And, like an eagle o’er his aiery, towers,

To souse annoyance that comes near his nest.”

King John, Act v. Sc. 2.

This passage has been differently rendered, by removing the punctuation between “aiery” and “towers,” and reading the former “airey” or “airy,” and making “towers” a substantive. But the meaning of the passage, as it stands above, seems to us sufficiently clear.

“Aiery” is equivalent to “eyrie,” the nesting-place. The word occurs again in Richard III. (Act i. Sc. 3):—

“Our aiery buildeth in the cedar’s top;”

and,

“Your aiery buildeth in our aiery’s nest.”

The verb “to tower,” in the language of falconry, signifies “to rise spirally to a height.” Compare the French “tour.” As a further argument, too, for reading “towers” as a verb, and not as a substantive, compare the following passage from Macbeth, which plainly shows that Shakespeare was not unacquainted with this word as a hawking term:—

“A falcon towering in her pride of place.”

Macbeth, Act ii. Sc. 4.

THE FATAL SWOOP.

The word “souse,” above quoted, is likewise borrowed from the language of falconry, and, as a substantive, is equivalent to “swoop.” It would seem to be derived from the German “sausen,” which signifies to rush with a whistling sound like the wind; and this is certainly expressive of the “whish” made by the wings of a falcon when swooping on her prey.

There is a good illustration of this passage in Drayton’s “Polyolbion,” Song xx., where a description of hawking at wild-fowl is given. After the falconers have put up the fowl from the sedge, the hawk, in the words of the author, having previously “towered,” “gives it a souse.” Beaumont and Fletcher also make use of this word as a hawking term in The Chances, iv. 1; and it occurs in Spenser’s “Faerie Queene,” Book iv. Canto v. 30.

A notice of the various hawks made use of by falconers, and mentioned by Shakespeare, might be here properly introduced, but it will be more convenient to reserve this notice for a separate chapter, and confine our attention for the present to the larger diurnal birds of prey which, like the eagles, are seldom, if ever, reclaimed by man.

Of these, excluding the eagle, Shakespeare makes mention of four—the Vulture, the Osprey, the Kite, and the Buzzard.

THE VULTURE:

Those who are acquainted with the repulsive habits of the Vulture, led as he is by instinct to gorge on carrion, will best understand the allusions to this bird which are to be met with in the works of Shakespeare.

What more forcible expression can be found to indicate a guilty conscience than “the gnawing vulture of the mind”? (Titus Andronicus, Act v. Sc. 2.)

“There cannot be

That vulture in you, to devour so many.”

Macbeth, Act iv. Sc. 3.

When King Lear would denounce the unkindness of a daughter, which he could never forget, laying his hand upon his heart, he exclaims:—

“O Regan, she hath tied

Sharp-tooth’d unkindness, like a vulture, here.”

King Lear, Act ii. Sc. 4.

ITS REPULSIVE HABITS.

One of the worst wishes to which Falstaff could give vent when in a bad humour, was:—

“Let vultures gripe thy guts!”

Merry Wives of Windsor, Act i. Sc. 3.

And the same idea is expressed in Henry IV. (Part II. Act v. Sc. 4):—

“Let vultures vile seize on his lungs also!”

Occasionally we find the word “vulture” employed as an adjective:—

“Her sad behaviour feeds her vulture folly.”

Lucrece.

And—

“Whose vulture thought doth pitch the price so high.”

Venus and Adonis.

THE OSPREY:

The structure of the Osprey is wonderfully adapted to his habits, and an examination of the feet of this bird will prove how admirably contrived they are for grasping and holding a slippery fish. Mr. St. John, who had excellent opportunities of studying the Osprey in his native haunts, says:39—“I generally saw the osprey fishing about the lower pools of the rivers near their mouths; and a beautiful sight it is. The long-winged bird hovers (as a kestrel does over a mouse), at a considerable distance above the water, sometimes on perfectly motionless wing, and sometimes, wheeling slowly in circles, turning his head and looking eagerly down at the water. He sees a trout when at a great height, and suddenly closing his wings, drops like a shot bird into the water, often plunging completely under, and at other times appearing scarcely to touch the water, but seldom failing to rise again with a good-sized fish in his talons. Sometimes, in the midst of his swoop, the osprey stops himself suddenly in the most abrupt manner, probably because the fish, having changed its position, is no longer within range. He then hovers, again stationary, in the air, anxiously looking below for the re-appearance of the prey. Having well examined one pool, he suddenly turns off, and with rapid flight takes himself to an adjoining part of the stream, where he again begins to hover and circle in the air. On making a pounce into the water, the osprey dashes up the spray far and wide, so as to be seen for a considerable distance.”

After this description, it is easy to understand the allusion of Aufidius, who says:—

“I think he’ll be to Rome,

As is the osprey to the fish, who takes it

By sovereignty of nature.”

Coriolanus, Act iv. Sc. 7.

ITS POWER OVER FISH.

Mr. Staunton thinks that the image is founded on the fabulous power attributed to the osprey of fascinating the fish on which he preys. In Peele’s play of The Battle of Alcazar, 1594 (Act i. Sc. 1), we read:—

“I will provide thee of a princely osprey,

That, as he flieth over fish in pools,

The fish shall turn their glistering bellies up,

And thou shalt take thy liberal choice of all.”

THE KITE,

Another of the birds of prey mentioned by Shakespeare is “the lazar Kite” (Henry V. Act ii. Sc. 1). Although a large bird, and called by some the royal Kite (Milvus regalis), it has not the bold dash of many of our smaller hawks in seizing live and strong prey, but glides about ignobly, looking for a sickly or wounded victim, or for offal of any sort.

“And kites

Fly o’er our heads, and downward look on us,

As we were sickly prey.”

Julius Cæsar, Act v. Sc. 1.

“Ere this

I should have fatted all the region kites

With this slave’s offal.”

Hamlet, Act ii. Sc. 2.

“A prey for carrion kites.”

Henry VI. Part II. Act v. Sc. 2.

From the ignoble habits of the bird, the name “kite” became a term of reproach:—

“You kite!”

Antony and Cleopatra, Act iii. Sc. 13.

And—

“Detested kite!”

King Lear, Act i. Sc. 4.

When pressed by hunger, however, the kite becomes more fearless; and instances have occurred in which a bird of this species has entered the farmyard and boldly carried off a chicken.

“Wer’t not all one, an empty eagle were set

To guard the chicken from a hungry kite,

As place Duke Humphrey for the king’s protector?”

Henry VI. Part II. Act iii. Sc. 1.

The synonym “puttock” is sometimes applied to the kite, sometimes to the common buzzard. In the following passage, where reference is made to the supposed murder of Gloster by Suffolk, it evidently has reference to the former bird:—

“Who finds the partridge in the puttock’s nest,

But may imagine how the bird was dead,

Although the kite soar with unbloodied beak?”

Henry VI. Part II. Act iii. Sc. 2.

A BIRD OF ILL-OMEN.

With the ancients the kite appears to have been a bird of ill-omen. In Cymbeline (Act i. Sc. 2), Imogen says:—

“I chose an eagle, and did avoid a puttock.”

And the superiority of the eagle is again adverted to by Hastings, in Richard III. (Act i. Sc. 1):—

“More pity that the eagle should be mew’d,

While kites and buzzards prey at liberty.”

The intractable disposition of the kite is thus noticed:—

“Another way I have to man my haggard,

To make her come, and know her keeper’s call;

That is, to watch her, as we watch these kites,

That bate, and beat, and will not be obedient.”

Taming of the Shrew, Act iv. Sc. 1.

A wild hawk was sometimes tamed by watching it night and day, to prevent its sleeping. In “An approved treatyse of Hawks and Hawking,” by Edmund Bert, Gent., which was published in London in 1619, the author says:—“I have heard of some who watched and kept their hawks awake seven nights and as many days, and then they would be wild, rammish, and disorderly.” This practice is often alluded to by Shakespeare:—

“You must be watch’d ere you be made tame, must you?”

Troilus and Cressida, Act iii. Sc. 2.

“I’ll watch him tame.”

Othello, Act iii. Sc. 3.

“But I will watch you from such watching now.”

Romeo and Juliet, Act iv. Sc. 4.

HABITS OF THE KITE.

The habit which the kite has, in common with other rapacious birds, of rejecting or disgorging the undigested portions of its food, such as bones and fur, in the shape of pellets, was apparently well known to Shakespeare, for he says:—

“If charnel-houses and our graves must send

Those that we bury back, our monuments

Shall be the maws of kites.”

Macbeth, Act iii. Sc. 4.

And again—

“Thou detestable maw …

Gorg’d with the dearest morsel of the earth.”

Romeo and Juliet, Act v. Sc. 3.

THE KITE’S NEST.

Another curious fact in the natural history of the kite is adverted to in the Winter’s Tale (Act iv. Sc. 2). It is there said—

“When the kite builds, look to lesser linen.”

This line may be perhaps best illustrated by giving a description of a kite’s nest which we have seen, and which was taken many years ago in Huntingdonshire. The outside of the nest was composed of strong sticks; the lining consisted of small pieces of linen, part of a saddle-girth, a bit of a harvest glove, part of a straw bonnet, pieces of paper, and a worsted garter. In the midst of this singular collection of materials were deposited two eggs. The kite is now almost extinct in England, and a kite’s nest, of course, is a great rarity. The Rev. H. B. Tristram, speaking of the habits of the Egyptian kite (Milvus Ægyptius), says:40—“Its nest, the marine store-shop of the desert, is decorated with whatever scraps of bournouses and coloured rags can be collected; and to these are added, on every surrounding branch, the cast-off coats of serpents, large scraps of thin bark, and perhaps a bustard’s wing.”

THE BUZZARD.

We have alluded to the Buzzard (Buteo vulgaris) in the passage above quoted from Richard III., and also to the synonym “puttock,” which was sometimes applied to this bird, as well as to the kite.

Mr. St. John, who was well acquainted with the common buzzard, thought that in all its habits it more nearly resembled the eagle than any other kind of hawk.41

In the following passage, it seems probable, as suggested by Mr. Staunton, that a play upon the words is intended, and that “buzzard” in the second line means a beetle, so called from its buzzing noise:—

“O slow-wing’d turtle! shall a buzzard take thee?

Ay, for a turtle, as he takes a buzzard.”

Taming of the Shrew, Act ii. Sc. 1.

Neither the kite nor the buzzard were ever trained for hawking, being deficient both in speed and pluck.

The former, however, was occasionally “flown at” by falconers, although oftener for want of a better bird, than because he showed much sport.

Both are now far less common than in Shakespeare’s day. The increased number of shooters, and the war of extermination which is carried on by gamekeepers, inevitably seal their doom.