61 



LOVE-IN-IDLENESS. 



The flower alluded to under this fanciful name, in Midsummer Night's Dream, 

 is so generally supposed by Shakesperean authorities to be the little wild pansy, 

 viola tricolor, that any attempt to call it in question is very bold, and niust be ex- 

 pressed with much diffidence. Shakespeare himself gives it merely as a popular 

 name : 



"And maidens call it Love-in-idleness." 

 He mentions the pansy elsewhere, but not in allusion to love — 



" There is pansies, that's for thoughts," 



Hatnlet, Act IV., Sc. 5. 



says Ophelia, playing apparently on the French word, pemie, in her wild rambling 

 on flowers and plants. It remains, therefore, to be seen what other information 

 can be obtained with reference to it. In a work rich in legendary lore, called 

 Historic Warwickshire, by J. Tom Burgess, this pretty legend is given as to the 

 origin of the name of Love-in-idleness — 



" It was at the noontide hour, 

 A lady reposed in a bower, 

 Where, shaded between 

 The branches of green, 

 Blossom'd and blush'd a fair flower ; 

 Not a pinion was moved, nor a breeze was heard, 

 As with curious hand the lady stirr'd 

 The leaves of this unknown flower 



She saw in its cradling bloom, 

 A cherub with folding plume, 

 And a bow unstrung. 

 And arrows were flung 

 O'er the cup of this opening flower ; 

 And the lady fancied she much had need 

 Of the light of his wak'ning eyes, to read 

 The name of this unknown flower. 

 She placed it too near her breast, 

 And the cherub was charmed from his rest ; 

 Then he winged a dart 

 At the lady's heart. 

 From the leaves of this treacherous flower. 

 ' Ah ! cruel child ! ' said the lady, ' I guess 

 Too late, that Love-in-idUness 



Is the name of this unknown flower.' " 



But pretty as the legend is, it cannot be said to help much in the determination of 

 the plant. 



The full passage in Shakespeare, founded on the legend, or, more probably, 

 giving rise to it, is infinitely more beautiful. Oberon says, Act II., Sc. 2 — 



" That very time I saw (but thou couldst not), 

 Flying between the cold moon and the earth, 

 Cupid, all armed : a certain aim he took 

 At a fair vestal, throned by the west ; 

 And loos'd his love-shaft smartly from his bow, 

 As it should pierce a hundred thousand hearts : 

 But I might see young Cupid's fiery shaft 

 Quenched in the chaste beams of the wat'ry moon; 

 And the imperial vot'ress passed on, 

 In maiden meditation, fancy-free. 

 Yet mark'd I where the bolt of Cupid fell ; 

 It fell upon a little western flower, — 

 Before, milk-white ; now purple with love's wound, 

 And maidens call it Love-in-idleness. " 



