“St. Swithin’s day if thou dost rain,
For forty days it will remain:
St. Swithin’s day if thou be fair
For forty days ’t will rain na mair.”
Ben Jonson, in “Every man out of his humour,” has a touch at almanac-wisdom, and on St. Swithin’s power over the weather:—
“Enter Sordido, Macilente, Hine.
“Sord.—(looking at an almanac)—O rare! good, good, good, good, good! I thank my stars, I thank my stars for it.
“Maci.—(aside)—Said I not true, ’tis Sordido, the farmer,
A boar, and brother, to that swine was here.
“Sord. Excellent, excellent, excellent! as I could wish, as I could wish!—Ha, ha, ha! I will not sow my grounds this year. Let me see what harvest shall we have? June, July, August?
“Maci.—(aside)—What is’t, a prognostication raps him so?
“Sord.—(reading)—The xx, xxi, xxii days, Rain and Wind; O good, good! the xxiii and xxiv Rain and some Wind: the xxv, Rain, good still! xxvi, xxvii, xxviii, wind and some rain; would it had been rain and some wind; well, ’tis good (when it can be no better;) xxix inclining to rain: inclining to rain? that’s not so good now: xxx and xxxi wind and no rain: no rain? ’Slid stay; this is worse and worse: what says he of Saint Swithin’s? turn back, look, Saint Swithin’s: no rain?—O, here, Saint Swithin’s, the xv day; variable weather, for the most part rain, good; for the most part rain: why, it should rain forty days after, now, more or less, it was a rule held, afore I was able to hold a plough, and yet here are two days no rain; ha! it makes me muse.”