[15:1] Golding evidently adopted the reading "qui perflant omnia," instead of the reading now generally received, "qui præstant nomina." [15:2] Gerard thought that Ovid's Anemone was the Venice Mallow--_Hibiscus trionum_--a handsome annual from the South of Europe. [16:1] In the "Nineteenth Century" for October, 1877, is an interesting article by Mr. Gladstone on the "colour-sense" in Homer, proving that Homer, and all nations in the earlier stages of their existence, have a very limited perception of colour, and a very limited and loosely applied nomenclature of colours. The same remark would certainly apply to the early English writers, not excluding Shakespeare. [17:1] Mr. Leo Grindon also identifies the classical Anemone with the Cistus. See a good account of it in "Gardener's Chronicle," June 3, 1876. [17:2] The small yellow A. ranunculoides has been sometimes included among the British Anemones, but is now excluded. It is a rare plant, and an alien. APPLE. (1) _Sebastian._ I think he will carry this island home and give it his son for an Apple. _Tempest_, act ii, sc. 1 (91). (2) _Malvolio._ Not yet old enough for a man, nor young enough for a boy; as a Squash is before 'tis a Peascod, or a Codling when 'tis almost an Apple. _Twelfth Night_, act i, sc. 5 (165). (3) _Antonio._ An Apple, cleft in two, is not more twin Than these two creatures. _Ibid._, act 5, sc. 1 (230). (4) _Antonio._ An evil soul producing holy witness Is like a villain with a smiling cheek, A goodly Apple rotten at the heart. _Merchant of Venice_, act i, sc. 3 (100). (5) _Tranio._ He in countenance somewhat doth resemble you. _Biondello._ As much as an Apple doth an oyster, and all one. _Taming of the Shrew_, act iv, sc. 2 (100). (6) _Orleans._ Foolish curs, that run winking into the mouth of a Russian bear, and have their heads crushed like rotten Apples. _Henry V_, act iii, sc. 7 (153). (7) _Hortensio._ Faith, as you say, there's small choice in rotten Apples. _Taming of the Shrew_, act i, sc. 1 (138). (8) _Porter._ These are the youths that thunder at a playhouse, and fight for bitten Apples. _Henry VIII_, act v, sc. 4 (63). (9) _Song of Winter._ When roasted Crabs hiss in the bowl, Then nightly sings the staring owl. _Love's Labour's Lost_, act v, sc. 2 (935). (10) _Puck._ And sometime lurk I in a gossip's bowl In very likeness of a roasted Crab; And when she drinks, against her lips I bob, And on her wither'd dewlap pour the ale.