132 
SHAKESPEARE’S GARDEN 
the dead, so that, from the cradle to the grave, we 
have still use of it.” 
Twined with the foregoing we find the ivy most 
in favour, but this we have already dealt with; but 
it seems a pity not to quote one little piece of 
sarcasm from Brand, p. 520. 
At Christmas men do always ivy get, 
And at each corner of the house it set: 
But why do they then use that Bacchus-weed ? 
Because they mean then Bacchus-like to feed. 
Another companion of this garland of evergreens 
is the yew (Taxus baccata , L.), whose curious and 
beautiful juicy arillus we have already referred to. 
The tree is a native, not only of England, but with a 
geographical range extending throughout the north 
temperate regions. Twice the tree is referred to 
without any directly uncanny feeling, though with an 
echo of something dread and supernatural (Borneo 
and Juliet , V. iii. 3). Its use for bows is mentioned 
in Richard II., III. ii. 116 , when the epithet “ doubly 
fatal” is applied to it, first, perhaps, since it is 
poisonous to man, and, second, since it brings him 
death through the bow. This brings up the con¬ 
troversy respecting the planting of yews in our 
churchyards. It has been variously assumed that 
they were so planted to protect the building from 
the wind, to supply the villagers with bows, and as a 
symbol of the Resurrection, on account of their 
gloomy appearance and noxious qualities, more fit¬ 
tingly morbid than any other tree to this garden of 
death. Brand quotes Hecate’s answer to the air-spirit 
in this connection: 
With new fall’n dew 
From churchyard yew. 
