CHAUCERS STUDY OF NATURE 13 
from which the juice was obtained. Even in those early days 
opium would seem to have been imported from the East. 
In' connection with the plants used for their magical pro- 
perties, Chaucer uses an old proverb in “ Troilus and Cressida.” 
“ Nettle in, dock out,” is a common saying of a common prac- 
tice. The dock leaf is the best cure for the nettle sting, especially 
when the doggrel, “ Nettle in, dock out, dock rub nettle out,” 
is chanted at the same time. 
Turning from the “ floweres smale,” Chaucer’s epithets for 
trees are admirable, and I think doubtless supplied Spenser with 
his descriptive stanzas in the first canto of the Faerie Queen. 
About 1390 Chaucer was appointed one of the Foresters of North 
Petherton Park in Somersetshire. The village is but a few miles 
from Bridgewater and on the edge of the Quantocks. Whether 
Chaucer made use of his appointment or ever went to Somerset- 
shire I do not know, but his “ Assembly of Foules ” was written 
about 1358, before even his travels in Italy. Here was the 
“builder oke,” the “hardy asshe,” the “pillar elm,” with its 
melancholy suggestion of our last resting-place, the “ sailing 
firre,” the “ cypress death to plaine,” the “ holm ” or holly, used 
for whip handles, the “ olive of peace ” and “ eke the dronken 
vine,” the “ victor palme, the laurer too divine.” The “ box- 
pipe tree ” seems to me as if it ought to be the elder. Its old 
name was the “ bore tree,” and in early times the branches with 
their pith removed were utilised as flutes and pipes. Its very 
Latin name Sambiicus signifies an ancient musical instrument. 
But I have not been able to find any confirmation of my 
theory. 
Bird life was not neglected by Chaucer. He seems to have 
had a particular affection for the “ smale foules.” They awoke 
him in the early spring mornings by the noise and sweetness of 
their song as they sat on his “ chamber roof without upon the 
tyles.” In another place he speaks of the birds singing “ with 
voice of angell in his armonie.” Then he gives a list of birds 
in much the same style as the trees. There is the “ gentle 
falcon,” the favourite of royalty, that perched upon the king’s 
wrist, the dove “ with her eyen meke,” the “jealous swan against 
his death that singeth ” and the owl that “ of death the bode 
bringeth,” the “ tame ruddocke,” our dear little robin redbreast 
that comes so confidently to our gardens, the sparrow even, 
noisy and chattering but “Venus’ son,” and the “ nightingale that 
Calleth from the fresh leaves newe,” the crow with “ voice of 
care,” the throstle old, and frosty field fare. As to the barnyard 
inhabitants in the “ Nonnes Preestes Tale,” “ cok chaunteclere ” 
and “ his faire partelote,” we could scarcely desire a better 
description of our domestic fowls — chanticleer, his comb “ redder 
than the fine corail, enbattled as it were a castle wall,” with his 
“ seven wives walking him beside,” is quite a familiar scene. 
To prophesy. 
