SHAKESPEARE’S GARDEN 
103 
the thick, glossy masses of the ivy break out into 
blossom, and prove a most delicate banquet for the 
myriads of insects about to hibernate, and which 
flit about its flowers day and night to extract the rich 
honey from its nectaries. 
The plant itself is our only native member of the 
Araliaceae, and, although a plant of infinite variation, 
but two really distinct species are known. It is the 
Hedera helix , L. Prior (p. 124) tells us its name was 
originally “ ivyne ” from the Saxon “ ifig,” but became 
confused with the yew, so that its name was brought 
about by the error of a copyist. Pliny called it abiga, 
the copyist ajuga , which was further misquoted as iva, 
a form from which we get “ivy.” 
Shakespeare, as is his wont, knew well the nature 
of the plant. He says ( Midsummer-Night's Drearn, 
IV. i. 48) that— 
The female ivy so 
Enrings the barky fingers of the elm. 
In this connection the present writer remembers well 
one lovely autumn day the avenue of elms leading 
to the disused church of Thundridge in Hertford¬ 
shire, where the trunks were wreathed in glossy 
green, and the leaves in liquid gold against the deep 
blue sky, a sight never to be forgotten. 
The poet calls it “ usurping ivy ” ( Comedy of Errors , 
II. ii. 180), and woe to the ruined building whose 
shattered walls this monster enwreathes, to decorate 
and destroy, painting death with the hue of life. 
Then, in speaking of his lost sheep, in the Winter s 
Tale the shepherd says (III. iii. 66) : 
If any where I have them, ’tis by the seaside, browsing of 
ivy. 
The ivy was used by the herbalists as a cure for the 
