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"Thou art alone, no strong one is with thee, no armée is behind thee, no Ariel who prepares the way for thee, and gives thee information of the road before thee. Thou knowest not the road. The hair on thy head stands on end; it bristles up. Thy soul is given into thy hands. Thy path is full of rocks and boulders, there is no outlet near, it is overgrown with creepers and wolf's-bane.
Can you make roses grow on burdocks?" "No!" said the prince. "Then the thistle is your flower," said clever Ileane. "Can you make the bat sing in a sweet voice?" "No!" said the prince. "Then night is your day," said clever Ileane. "Can you make apples grow on wolf's-bane?" "That I can!" said the prince. "Then that shall be your fruit!" replied the beautiful and cunning Ileane.
Some plants, such as flea-bane and wolf's-bane, refer to the reputed property of the plant to keep off or injure the animal named, and there is a long list of plants which derived their names from their real or imaginary medicinal virtues, many of which illustrate the old doctrine of signatures.
You don't happen to have hired the devil for gardener at any time, do you? Just fancy! any cook might come out here for horseradish, and gather this plant, and lay you all dead at your own table. It is the Aconitum of medicine, the Monk's-hood or Wolf's-bane' of our ancestors. Call the gardener, please, and have every bit of it pulled up by the roots.
There is little in its pages to recall the identity of the editor; but in one place he quotes as follows from Lord Bacon: "The ointment which witches use is made of the fat of children digged from their graves, and of the juices of smallage, cinquefoil, and wolf's-bane, mingled with the meal of fine wheat," and hopes that none of his readers will try to compound it.
She knew it meant death, for wolf's-bane was mixed with the last draughts he had taken. Like a shadow Mex passed from the cabin into the darkness of the woods. She had prevented the man from pursuing any other woman. The hours of night wore slowly away, and Cacosotte, returning to consciousness after his anæsthetic sleep, felt renewed pain in his disabled arm.
In the tale of "Young Goodman Brown," when Goody Cloyse says, "I was all anointed with the juice of small-age and cinquefoil and wolf's-bane," and the Devil continues, "'Mingled with fine wheat and the fat of a new-born babe, 'Ah, your worship knows the recipe, cried the old lady, cackling aloud."
The other ladies were not sorry to get rid of an irrelevant zealot, who talked neither love, nor dress, nor anything that reaches the soul. So Zoe said, "What, going already?" and having paid that tax to politeness, returned to the house with alacrity. But the doctress would not go without her Wolf's-bane, Aconite ycleped.
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