The turquoise ring of Shylock, which he would not have given for a ‘wilderness of monkeys’ (‘Merchant of Venice,’ scene i.), was probably more esteemed for its secret virtues than from any commercial value, the turquoise, turkise, or turkey-stone having, from remote periods, been supposed to possess talismanic properties. Fenton, in his ‘Secret Wonders of Nature’ (1569), thus describes the stone: ‘The turkeys doth move when there is any peril prepared to him that weareth it.’
Dr. Donne alludes to
A compassionate turquoise, that doth tell,
By looking pale, the wearer is not well.
Among the virtues of the turquoise is one which would spare us the shame of a divorce-court, as it was believed to take away all enmity, and to reconcile man and wife. Holinshed, speaking of the death of King John, says: ‘And when the king suspected them (the pears) to be poisoned indeed, by reason of such precious stones as he had about him cast forth a certain sweat, as it were bewraeing the poison, &c.’ The turquoise was a supposed monitor of poison from this circumstance.
‘With the Germans the turquoise is still the gem appropriated to the ring, the “gage d’amour,” presented by the lover on the acceptance of his suit, the permanence of its colour being believed to depend upon the constancy of his affection. Inasmuch as this stone is almost as liable to change, and as capriciously as the heart itself, the omen it gives is verified with sufficient frequency to maintain its reputation for infallibility’ (The Rev. C. W. King, on ‘Precious Stones,’ &c.).
Camillus Leonardus, in the ‘Mirror of Stones,’ describes the carbuncle as ‘brandishing its fiery rays on every side, and in the dark appearing like a fiery coal. It is esteemed the first among burning gems.’
The ancients supposed this stone to give out a native light without reflection, and they ranked it fifth in order, after diamonds, emeralds, opals, and pearls. The virtue of the carbuncle was to drive away poisonous air, repress luxury, and preserve the health of the body. The wonderful light emitted from the stone is one of the most prolific resources of romance among old writers.
Shakspeare alludes to the superstition in ‘Titus Andronicus’ (Act ii. sc. 4).
Martius. Lord Bassianus lies embruèd here
All on a heap, like to a slaughtered lamb,
In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit.
Quintus. If it be dark, how dost thou know ’tis he?
Martius. Upon his bloody finger he doth wear
A precious ring that lightens all the hole,
Which, like a taper in some monument,
Doth shine upon the dead man’s earthy cheeks,
And shows the rugged entrails of the pit.
Ben Jonson and Drayton also refer to the same superstition.