The Anglo-Saxons delighted in the following riddle:
I am a wonderful creature, bringing joy to women, and useful to those who dwell near me. I harm no citizen except only my destroyer. My site is lofty; I stand in a bed; beneath, somewhere, I am shaggy. Sometimes the very beautiful daughter of a peasant, a courageous woman, ventures to lay hold on me, assaults my red skin, despoils my head, clamps me in a fashion. She who thus confines me, this curly haired woman, soon feels my meeting with her—her eye becomes wet.
Stop sniggering at the back. The answer is an onion.