It cannot be denied that there have been found Englishmen rude enough to ridicule this honourable and ancient custom of the Welsh, though why they should do so there is no good reason. The leek is not fragrant, perhaps; but if an old custom must smell sweet or be laughed at, there is work enough for our risibles in every English parish. The following is one of the foolish legends of the English respecting the leek: ‘The Welsh in olden days were so infested by ourang outangs that they could obtain no peace day or night, and not being themselves able to extirpate them they invited the English to assist, who came; but through mistake killed several of the Welsh, so that in order to distinguish them from the monkeys they desired them to stick a leek in their hats.’ The author of this ridiculous tale deserves the fate of Pistol, whom Fluellen compelled to eat his leek, skin and all.
Flu. I peseech you heartily, scurvy lowsy knave, at my desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eat, look you, this leek; because, look you, you do not love it, nor your affections, and your appetites, and your digestions, does not agree with it, I would desire you to eat it.
Pist. Not for Cadwallader, and all his goats.
Flu. There is one goat for you. [Strikes him.] Will you be so good, scald knave, as eat it?
Pist. Base Trojan, thou shalt die.
Flu. You say very true, scald knave, when Got’s will is: I will desire you to live in the meantime, and eat your victuals.... If you can mock a leek you can eat a leek....
Pist. Quiet thy cudgel; thou dost see, I eat.
Flu. Much goot do you, scald knave, heartily. Nay, ’pray you, throw none away; the skin is goot for your proken coxcomb. When you take occasions to see leeks hereafter, I pray you, mock at them! that is all.[118]
FOOTNOTES:
[115] ‘Hist. and Ant. of the Parish of St. David,’ 54.