“The _halcyones_,” Pliny avers, “are of great name and much marked. The very seas, and they that saile thereupon, know well when they sit and breed. This bird, so notable, is little bigger than a sparrow; for the more part of her pennage, blew, intermingled yet among with white and purple feathers; having a thin small neck and long withal they lay and sit about mid-winter, when daies be shortest; and the times while they are broodie, is called the _halcyon_ daies; for during that season the sea is calm and navigable, especially on the coast of Sicilie.”—_Philemon Holland’s Plinie_, x. 32. We are thus prepared for the device which Paolo Giovio sets before his readers, with an Italian four-lined stanza to a French motto, _We know well the weather_. The drawing suggests that the two Alcyons in one nest are sailing “on the coast of Sicilie,” in the straits of Messina, with Scylla and Charybdis on each hand—but in perfect calmness and security,— _DE I MEDESIMI._ Novs scavons bien le temps [Illustration: _Giovio, 1562._] _San gl’ Alcionij augei il tempo eletto, Ch’ al nido; e all’ oua lor non nuoca il mare. Infelice quell’ huom, ch’el dí aſpettare Non ſa, per dare al ſuo diſegno effetto._ Nous ſauons bien le temps. “Happy the Alcyons, whom choice times defend. Nor in the nest nor egg the sea can harm; But luckless man knows not to meet alarm, Nor to his purpose gives the wished for end.” The festival of Saint Martin, or Martlemas, is held November 11th, at the approach of winter, and was a season of merriment and good cheer. It is in connection with this festival that Shakespeare first introduces a mention of the Alcyon (_1 Henry VI._, act i. sc. 2, l. 129, vol. v. p. 14). The Maid of Orleans is propounding her mission for the deliverance of France to Reignier, Duke of Anjou,— “Assign’d I am to be the English scourge. This night the siege assuredly I’ll raise: Expect Saint Martin’s summer, halcyon days, Since I have enter’d into these wars.” It was, and I believe still is, an opinion prevalent in some parts of England, that a King-fisher, suspended by the tail or beak, will turn round as the wind changes. To this fancy, allusion is made in _King Lear_ (act ii. sc. 2, l. 73, vol. viii. p. 307),— “Renege, affirm and turn their halcyon beaks With every gale and vary of their masters, Knowing nought, like dogs, but following.”