prettiest sententious
of it, of you and Rosemary, that it would do you
good to hear it.

_Romeo and Juliet_, act ii, sc. 4 (219).

(6) _Friar._

Dry up your tears, and stick your Rosemary
On this fair corse.

_Ibid._, act iv, sc. 5 (79).

The Rosemary is not a native of Britain, but of the sea-coast of the
South of Europe, where it is very abundant. It was very early introduced
into England, and is mentioned in an Anglo-Saxon Herbarium under its
Latin name of Ros marinus, and is there translated by Bothen, _i.e._
Thyme; also in an Anglo-Saxon Vocabulary of the eleventh century, where
it is translated Feld-madder and Sun-dew. In these places our present
plant may or may not be meant, but there is no doubt that it is the one
referred to in an ancient English poem of the fourteenth century, on the
virtues of herbs, published in Wright and Halliwell's "Reliquiae
Antiquae." The account of "The Gloriouse Rosemaryne" is long, but the
beginning and ending are worth quoting--

"This herbe is callit Rosemaryn
Of vertu that is gode and fyne;
But alle the vertues tell I ne cane,
No I trawe no erthely man.

* * * * *

Of thys herbe telles Galiene
That in hys contree was a quene,
Gowtus and Crokyt as he hath tolde,
And eke sexty yere olde;
Sor and febyl, where men hyr sey
Scho semyth wel for to dey;
Of Rosmaryn scho toke sex po[=w]de,
And grownde hyt wel in a stownde,
And bathed hir threyes everi day,
Nine mowthes, as I herde say,
And afterwarde anoynitte wel hyr hede
With good bame as I rede;
Away fel alle that olde flessche,
And yo[=w]ge i-sprong tender and nessche;
So fresshe to be scho then began
Scho coveytede couplede be to man." (Vol. i, 196).

We can now scarcely understand the high favour in which Rosemary was
formerly held; we are accustomed to see it neglected, or only tolerated
in some corner of the kitchen garden, and not often tolerated there. But
it was very different in Shakespeare's time, when it was in high favour
for its evergreen leaves and fine aromatic scent, remaining a long time
after picking, so long, indeed, that both leaves and scent were almost
considered everlasting. This was its great charm, and so Spenser spoke
of it as "the cheerful Rosemarie"