Shakespeare and Music Part 15

In the first, Henry IV. in sickness asks for music; the second is an account of Cerimon's attempt to rouse the half-drowned Thaisa with at least partial a.s.sistance from music; while the third represents Prospero using a solemn air to remove the magic spell which he had cast on Alonso and his other enemies.

_H. 4. B._ IV, iv, 133. K. Hen. on his sick-bed.

_K. Hen._ Let there be no noise made, my gentle friends; Unless some _dull and favourable hand_ Will _whisper music_ to my wearied spirit.

_Warwick._ Call for the _music_ in the other room.

_Pericles_ III, ii, 87. Cerimon's house at Ephesus. Thaisa, cast up by the sea, is brought to life by his directions.

_Cerimon._ Well said, well said; the fire and the cloths.

The _rough and woful music_ that we have, _Cause it to sound_, beseech you.

The vial once more;--how thou stirr'st, thou block!-- _The music there!_ I pray you, give her air.

_Tempest_ V, i, 51. Prospero employs music to disenchant Alonso, Antonio, etc.

_Pro._ ... and, _when I have required Some heavenly music_ (which even now I do), _To work mine end upon their senses_....

L. 58.

_A solemn air_; and the _best comforter To an unsettled fancy_, cure thy brains.

Next we have two examples of 'Music at Home.' In the case of the Duke in Twelfth Night, it is 'concerted' music, and the players seem to be performing such a quaint old piece as 'The Lord of Salisbury his Pavin,' by Gibbons, in _Parthenia_, the last 'strain' of which has just such a 'dying fall' as is mentioned in line 4. [See the remarks on the pa.s.sage from _Lucrece_ in Section I. on the _technical_ meaning of 'strain.']

_Twelfth Night_ I, i.

_Duke._ If _music_ be the _food of love_, play on; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appet.i.te may sicken, and so die.-- _That strain again!_ it had a _dying fall_: O! it came o'er my ear like the _sweet sound_ That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing and giving odour.--Enough! no more: 'Tis not so sweet now, as it was before.

Brutus' musical establishment is on a smaller scale than the Duke's.

He keeps a 'good boy,' who can sing to his own accompaniment on the lute, and is such a willing servant as to perform when almost overcome by sleep.

_Julius Caesar_ IV, iii, 256. Brutus and his servant Lucius.

_Bru._ Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful.

Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile, And _touch_ thy _instrument_ a _strain_ or two?

_Luc._ Ay, my lord, an't please you.

_Bru._ It does, my boy.

I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.

[Boy sings to lute.]

_Bru._ This is a _sleepy tune_: [Boy drops off]--O murderous slumber!

Lay'st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy, _That plays thee music_?--Gentle knave, good night; I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee.

If thou dost nod, thou _break'st thy instrument: I'll take it from thee_; and, good boy, good night.--

[Ghost of Caesar appears.]

L. 290.

_Bru._ Boy!--Lucius!--Varro! Claudius! sirs, awake!--Claudius!

_Luc._ [asleep]. _The strings_, my lord, _are false_.

_Bru._ He thinks he still is _at his instrument_.

In _Henry VIII._ III, i is a case of the same kind.

_Queen Catherine._ Take thy _lute_, wench: my soul grows sad with troubles: _Sing, and disperse them_, if thou canst. Leave working.

[Song. 'Orpheus.']

The next pa.s.sage brings us to another cla.s.s of music--viz., dirges, funeral songs, or 'good-nights.' [See _H. 4. B._ III, ii, 322]. In _Cymbeline_ IV, ii, 184, Cadwal (Arviragus) sounds an 'ingenious instrument' to signify Imogen's death. Polydore (Guiderius) says they had not used it since their mother died. The song, or more properly, duet, which they sing directly after, in memory of Imogen, may be taken in this connection. Unfortunately there seems to be no musical setting of 'Fear no more the heat o' the sun' any older than 1740.

In the following quotation 'dirges' are mentioned by name.

_Rom._ IV, iv, 21.

_Capulet._ ... "Good faith! 'tis day: The county [Count Paris] will be here _with music_ straight."

Sc. v. 84.

_Cap._ All things, that we ordained festival, Turn from their office to black funeral: Our _instruments_ to _melancholy bells_; Our wedding cheer to a sad burial feast; Our _solemn hymns_ to _sullen dirges_ change.

In close connection with these funeral songs is the pa.s.sage in _Hen.

VIII._ IV, ii, 77, where Queen Katherine, sick, requests her gentleman-usher to get the musicians to play a favourite piece of this cla.s.s--

... Good Griffith, Cause the musicians play me _that sad note I named my knell_, whilst I sit meditating On that celestial harmony I go to.

[She sleeps, then, waking from the vision--]

... Bid the music leave, They are harsh and heavy to me.

It would be of great interest if it were possible to identify Queen Katherine's 'Knell.'

There is an old song, given in Chappell's Popular Music, 'O Death, rock me to sleep,' which might be the very one, for both music and words are singularly appropriate. The Refrain is as follows:--

'Tole on thou pa.s.sing bell Ringe out my dolefull _knell_ Let thy sound my death tell, For I must die, There is no remedye.'

The song is most plaintive, and has a very striking feature in the shape of a real independent accompaniment, which keeps up a continual figure of three descending notes, like the bells of a village church.

Hawkins gives the poem, with certain variations, and two extra verses at the beginning, the first commencing--

'Defiled is my name full sore, Through cruel spite and false report.'

and he says the verses are thought to have been written by Anne Boleyn. Hawkins also gives music (in four parts) to the first two verses, by Robt. Johnson, a contemporary of Shakespeare's. The music of the song in Chappell is much older than that; indeed, it is very possibly of Hen. VIII.'s time.