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Shakespeare Descants
on letter "M" Foods

Mackerel

Henry IV, part 1, II, 4:
FALSTAFF : I grant ye, upon instinct. Well, he is there too,
and one Mordake, and a thousand blue-caps more:
Worcester is stolen away to-night; thy father's
beard is turned white with the news: you may buy
land now as cheap as stinking mackerel.

Malt

King Lear, III, 2:
FOOL: This is a brave night to cool a courtezan.
I'll speak a prophecy ere I go:
When priests are more in word than matter;
When brewers mar their malt with water;
When nobles are their tailors' tutors;
No heretics burn'd, but wenches' suitors;
When every case in law is right;
No squire in debt, nor no poor knight;
When slanders do not live in tongues;
Nor cutpurses come not to throngs;
When usurers tell their gold i' the field;
And bawds and whores do churches build;
Then shall the realm of Albion
Come to great confusion:
Then comes the time, who lives to see't,
That going shall be used with feet.
This prophecy Merlin shall make; for I live before his time.

Marjoram

All's Well That Ends Well, IV, 5:
CLOWN: Indeed, sir, she was the sweet marjoram of the salad, or rather, the herb of grace.

The Winter's Tale, IV, 4:
PERDITA: I'll not put
The dibble in earth to set one slip of them;
No more than were I painted I would wish
This youth should say 'twere well and only therefore
Desire to breed by me. Here's flowers for you;
Hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram;
The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun
And with him rises weeping: these are flowers
Of middle summer, and I think they are given
To men of middle age. You're very welcome.

King Lear, IV, 6:
LEAR (blind and mad): Nature's above art in that respect. There's your press money. That fellow handles his bow like a crowkeeper, draw me a clothier's yard. Look, look, a mouse! Peace, peace, this piece of toasted cheese will do't. There's my gauntlet, I'll prove it on a giant. Bring up the brown bills. Oh, well-flown bird! I' the clout, i' the clout. Hewgh! Give the word.
EDGAR: Sweet marjoram.

Sonnet 99 The forward violet thus did I chide:
Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that smells,
If not from my love's breath? The purple pride
Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells
In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dyed.
The lily I condemned for thy hand,
And buds of marjoram had stol'n thy hair.

Medlar

As You Like It, III, 2:
ROSALIND: I'll graff it with you, and then I shall graff it
with a medlar: then it will be the earliest fruit i' the country; for you'll be rotten ere you be half
ripe, and that's the right virtue of the medlar.

Romeo and Juliet, II, 1:
MERCUTIO: If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.
Now will he sit under a medlar tree,
And wish his mistress were that kind of fruit
As maids call medlars, when they laugh alone.

Timon of Athens, IV, 3:
TIMON: ...Where feed'st thou o' days, Apemantus?
APEMANTUS: Where my stomach finds meat, or, rather, where I eat it.
TIMON: Would poison were obedient and knew my mind!
APEMANTUS: Where wouldst thou send it?
TIMON: To sauce thy dishes.
APEMANTUS: The middle of Humanity thou never knewest, but the extremity of both ends. When thou wast in thy Gilt, and thy Perfume, they mockt thee for too much Curiosity: in thy Rags thou know'st none, but art despis'd for the contrary. There's a medlar for thee, eat it.
TIMON: On what I hate, I feed not.
APEMANTUS: Do'st hate a Medlar?
TIMON: Ay, though it look like thee.
APEMANTUS: And th'hadst hated Meddlers sooner, y' should'st have loved thy self better now. What man didd'st thou ever know unthrift, that was beloved after his means!

Milk

Hamlet, Prince of Denmark, I, 5:
GHOST: ...Upon my secure hour thy uncle stole,
With juice of cursed hebenon in a vial,
And in the porches of my ears did pour
The leperous distilment; whose effect
Holds such an enmity with blood of man
That swift as quicksilver it courses through
The natural gates and alleys of the body,
And with a sudden vigour doth posset And curd, like eager droppings into milk,
The thin and wholesome blood: so did it mine;
And a most instant tetter bark'd about,
Most lazar-like, with vile and loathsome crust,
All my smooth body.
Thus was I, sleeping, by a brother's hand
Of life, of crown, of queen, at once dispatch'd

Henry IV, part 1, II, 3:
HOTSPUR: What a pagan rascal is this! an infidel! Ha! you shall see now in very sincerity of fear and cold heart, will he to the king and lay open all our proceedings. O, I could divide myself and go to buffets, for moving such a dish of skim milk with so honourable an action! Hang him! let him tell the king: we are prepared. I will set forward to-night.

King Lear, I, 1:
LEAR (to Cordelia): ...Now, our joy,
Although the last, not least; to whose young love
The vines of France and milk of Burgundy
Strive to be interess'd; what can you say to draw
A third more opulent than your sisters? Speak.

Love's Labour's Lost, V, 2:
PRINCESS: Honey, and milk, and sugar; there is three.

A Midsummer Night's Dream, II, 1:
FAIRY: Either I mistake your shape and making quite,
Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite
Call'd Robin Goodfellow: are not you he
That frights the maidens of the villagery;
Skim milk, and sometimes labour in the quern
And bootless make the breathless housewife churn

Titus Andronicus, II, 3:
LAVINIA: When did the tiger's young ones teach the dam?
Oh, do not learn her wrath; she taught it thee.
The milk thou suck'dst from her did turn to marble;
Even at thy teat thou hadst thy tyranny.
Yet every mother breeds not sons alike."

The Winter's Tale, IV, 4:
PERDITA: Even here undone!
I was not much afeard; for once or twice
I was about to speak and tell him plainly,
The selfsame sun that shines upon his court
Hides not his visage from our cottage but
Looks on alike. Will't please you, sir, be gone?
I told you what would come of this: beseech you,
Of your own state take care: this dream of mine,--
Being now awake, I'll queen it no inch farther,
But milk my ewes and weep.

Mint

The Winter's Tale, IV, 4:
PERDITA: I'll not put
The dibble in earth to set one slip of them;
No more than were I painted I would wish
This youth should say 'twere well and only therefore
Desire to breed by me. Here's flowers for you;
Hot lavender, mints, savoury, marjoram;
The marigold, that goes to bed wi' the sun
And with him rises weeping: these are flowers
Of middle summer, and I think they are given
To men of middle age. You're very welcome.

Love's Labour's Lost, V, 2:
DUMAIN (mocking Armado as Hector): That mint.

Mulberry

Coriolanus, III, 2:
VOLUMNIA: I prithee now, my son,
Go to them, with this bonnet in thy hand;
And thus far having stretch'd it--here be with them--
Thy knee bussing the stones--for in such business
Action is eloquence, and the eyes of the ignorant
More learned than the ears--waving thy head,
Which often, thus, correcting thy stout heart,
Now humble as the ripest mulberry
That will not hold the handling

Mushrooms

The Tempest, V, 1:
PROSPERO : Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes and groves,
And ye that on the sands with printless foot
Do chase the ebbing Neptune and do fly him
When he comes back; you demi-puppets that
By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make,
Whereof the ewe not bites, and you whose pastime
Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice
To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid,
Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimm'd
The noontide sun....But this rough magic
I here abjure, and, when I have required
Some heavenly music, which even now I do,
To work mine end upon their senses that
This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff,
Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,
And deeper than did ever plummet sound
I'll drown my book.

Mustard

The Taming of the Shrew, IV, 3:
GRUMIO I cannot tell; I fear 'tis choleric. What say you to a piece of beef and mustard?....
GRUMIO Ay, but the mustard is too hot a little.
KATHARINE: Why then, the beef, and let the mustard rest.
GRUMIO Nay then, I will not: you shall have the mustard, Or else you get no beef of Grumio....
GRUMIO Why then, the mustard without the beef.

Mussels

The Merry Wives of Windsor, II, 2:
FALSTAFF: Ay, marry, was it, mussel-shell: what would you with her?

Mutton

Henry IV, part 2, V, 1:
SHALLOW: A' shall answer it. Some pigeons, Davy, a couple of short-legged hens, a joint of mutton, and any pretty little tiny kickshaws, tell William cook.

Measure for Measure, III, 2:
LUCIO: ...The duke, I say to thee again, would eat mutton on Fridays. He's not past it yet, and I say to thee, he would mouth with a beggar, though she smelt brown bread and garlic: say that I said so. Farewell.

The Taming of the Shrew, IV, 1:
PETRUCHIO: A whoreson beetle-headed, flap-ear'd knave! Come, Kate, sit down; I know you have a stomach. Will you give thanks, sweet Kate; or else shall I? What's this? mutton?

Love's Labour's Lost, I, 1:
COSTARD: I had rather pray a month with mutton and porridge.