Shakespeare and Music Part 2

Samuel Harsnet, in his _Declaration of Egregious Impostures_, 1603, mentions a 'merry catch,' 'Now G.o.d be with old Simeon' (for which see Rimbault's Rounds, Canons, and Catches of England), which he says was sung by _tinkers_ 'as they sit by the fire, with a pot of good ale between their legs.'

And in _The Merry Devill of Edmonton_, 1631, there is a comical story of how Smug _the miller_ was _singing a catch_ with the _merry Parson_ in an alehouse, and how they 'tost' the words "_I'll ty my mare in thy ground_," 'so long to and fro,' that Smug forgot he was singing a catch, and began to quarrel with the Parson, 'thinking verily, he had meant (as he said in his song) to _ty his mare in his ground_.'

Finally, in _Pammelia_, a collection of Rounds and Catches of 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10 parts, edited by Thomas Ravenscroft, and published in 1609, there is a curious preface, which states that 'Catches are so _generally affected_ ... because they are so consonant to _all ordinary musical capacity_, being such, indeed, as all such _whose love of musick exceeds their skill_, cannot but commend.' The preface further a.s.serts that the book is 'published only _to please good company_.'

To go on to _instrumental_ music among the lower cla.s.ses of Elizabethan and Shakespearian times; there is an allusion in the above quoted pa.s.sage from Morley (1597) to the habit of playing on an instrument in a barber's shop while waiting one's turn to be shaved.

This is also referred to in Ben Jonson's _Alchemist_ and _Silent Woman_. In the latter play, Cutberd the barber has recommended a wife to Morose. Morose finds that instead of a mute helpmate he has got one who had 'a tongue with a tang,' and exclaims 'that cursed _barber_! I have married his _cittern_ that is common to all men': meaning that as the barber's cittern was always being played, so his wife was always talking.

There is a poem of the 18th century which speaks of the old times,

'In former time 't hath been upbrayded thus, That _barber's musick_ was most _barbarous_.'

However true that may have been--at all events it is certain that in the 16th and 17th centuries it was customary to hear instrumental music in a barber's shop, generally of a cittern, which had four strings and frets, like a guitar, and was thought a vulgar instrument.[4]

[Footnote 4: The Cittern of the barber's shop had four double strings of wire, tuned thus--1st, E in 4th s.p.a.ce of treble staff; 2nd, D a tone lower; 3rd, G on 2nd line; 4th, B on 3rd line. The instrument had a carved head. See _L.L.L._ V. ii., lines 600-603, of Holofernes'

head. Also the frontispiece, where the treble viol and viol-da-gamba have carved heads, both human, but of different types. Fantastic heads, as of dragons or gargoyles, were often put on these instruments.]

Another use of instrumental music was to entertain the guests in a tavern. A pamphlet called _The Actor's Remonstrance_, printed 1643, speaks of the _decay_ of music in taverns, which followed the closing of theatres in 1642, as follows:--"Our music, that was held so delectable and precious [_i.e._, in Shakespeare's times], that _they scorned to come to a tavern under twenty shillings_ salary _for two hours_, now wander [_i.e._, 1643] with their instruments under their cloaks--I mean, such as have any--into all houses of good fellowship, saluting every room where there is company with, 'Will you have any music, gentlemen?'"

Finally, in Gosson's "Short Apologie of the Schoole of Abuse," 1587, we find that "London is so full of unprofitable pipers and fiddlers, that a man can no sooner enter a tavern, than two or three cast of them hang at his heels, to give him a dance before he depart." These men sang ballads and catches as well. Also they played during dinner.

Lyly says--"Thou need no more send for a fidler to a feast, than a beggar to a fair."

All this leads to the just conclusion, that if ever a country deserved to be called 'musical,' that country was England, in the 16th and 17th centuries. King and courtier, peasant and ploughman, each could 'take his part,' with each music was a part of his daily life; while so far from being above knowing the difference between a minim and a crotchet, a gentleman would have been ashamed not to know it.

In this respect, at any rate, the 'good old days' were indeed better than those that we now see. Even a _public-house song_ in Elizabeth's day was a canon in three parts, a thing which could only be managed 'first time through' nowadays by the very first rank of professional singers.

SHAKESPEARE Pa.s.sAGES

I

TECHNICAL TERMS AND INSTRUMENTS

We now proceed to consider some representative pa.s.sages of Shakespeare which deal with music.

These may be taken roughly in six divisions--viz. (1) Technical Terms and Instruments, (2) Musical Education, (3) Songs and Singing, (4) Serenades and other domestic 'Music,' (5) Dances and Dancing, (6) Miscellaneous, including Shakespeare's account of the more spiritual side of music.

To begin on the first division. There are many most interesting pa.s.sages which bristle with technical words; and these are liable to be understood by the reader in a merely general way, with the result that the point is wholly or partly missed. With a reasonable amount of explanation, and a general caution to the student not to pa.s.s over words or phrases that appear obscure, there is no reason why these pa.s.sages should not be understood by all in a much fuller light.

The following lines, though not in a play, are so full of musical similes that it may be useful to take them at once.

_Lucrece_, line 1124.

"My _restless discord_ loves no _stops_ nor _rests_; A woful hostess brooks not merry guests.

Relish your _nimble notes_ to pleasing ears; Distress like _dumps_, when _time is kept_ with tears."

(Then to the nightingale)--

"Come, Philomel, that sing'st of ravishment, Make thy sad grove in my dishevell'd hair: As the dank earth weeps at thy languishment, So I at each sad _strain_ will _strain_ a tear, And with deep groans the _diapason_ bear; For _burden_ wise I'll _hum_ on Tarquin still, While thou on Tereus _descant'st_ better skill.

And while against a thorn thou _bear'st thy part_, To keep thy sharp woes waking....

These means, as _frets_ upon an _instrument_, Shall _tune_ our heart-_strings_ to true languishment."

Here Lucrece tells the birds to cease their joyous notes, and calls on the nightingale to sing the song of Tereus, while she herself bears the 'burden' with her groans.

The first line contains a quibble on 'rests' and 'restless' discord.

'Nimble notes' was used in the Shakespearian time as we should use the term 'brilliant music.' Lucrece was in no humour for trills and runs, but rather for Dumps, where she could keep slow time with her tears.

The Dumpe (from Swedish Dialect, _dumpa_, to dance awkwardly) was a slow, mournful dance. [See Appendix.] There is another quibble in l.

1131, on _strain_. A 'strain' is the proper Elizabethan word for a formal phrase of a musical composition. For instance, in a Pavan, Morley (Introduction to Practical Music, 1597) says a 'straine' should consist of 8, 12, or 16 semibreves (we should say 'bars' instead of 'semibreves') 'as they list, yet fewer then eight I have not seene in any pauan.'

'Diapason' meant the interval of an octave. Here Lucrece says she will 'bear the diapason' with deep groans, _i.e._, 'hum' a 'burden' or drone an octave lower than the nightingale's 'descant.' The earliest 'burden' known is that in the ancient Round 'Sumer is ic.u.men in,' of the 13th century. Here four voices sing the real music in canon to these words--

'Sumer is ic.u.men in, Lhude sing Cuccu, Groweth seed and bloweth mead and springth the wde nu, Sing Cuccu, Awe bleteth after lomb, lhouth after calve cu, Bulluc sterteth, Bucke verteth, murie sing cuccu, Cuccu, Cuccu, Wel singes thu cuccu, ne swik thu naver nu.'--

while all the time two other voices of lower pitch sing a monotonous refrain, 'Sing cuccu nu, Sing cuccu,' which they repeat _ad infinitum_ till the four who sing the Round are tired. This refrain is called Pes (or 'foot'), and this is the kind of thing which Lucrece means by 'burden.' The word 'hum' may be considered technical, see the Introduction, where '_buzzing_ ba.s.s' is referred to. The tune, 'Light o' love' [see Appendix], as we know from _Much Ado_ III, iv, 41, used to go _without_ a burden, and was considered a 'light' tune on that account, see _Two Gent._ I, ii, 80.

'Descant,' in l. 1134, wants explaining. To 'descant' meant to sing or play an _extempore_ second 'part' to a written melody. The point was that it should be extempore; if written down it ceased to be true descant, and was then called 'p.r.i.c.k-song.' A rough example may be had in the extempore ba.s.s or alto which some people still sing in church instead of the melody. A more accurate example of descant would be this--let A sing a hymn tune, say the Old 100th, and let B accompany him _extempore_ with a separate melody within the bounds of harmony. B is 'descanting' on the melody that A sings.[5]

[Footnote 5: Appendix, Ex. 1.]

The art of descant in Elizabeth's time corresponded closely with what we call 'Strict Counterpoint' (_contra_, _punctus_, hence 'p.r.i.c.k-song,' or 'written' descant).

The modern equivalent for 'bear a part' (l. 1135) is 'sing a part.'

[See also Sonnet VIII.] Any person of decent education could 'bear a part' in those days, _i.e._, read at sight the treble, alto, tenor, or ba.s.s 'part' of the work presented by the host for the diversion of his guests. [See Introduction.]

L. 1140. 'Frets upon an instrument' can still be seen on the modern mandoline, guitar, and banjo. In Shakespeare days, the viol, lute, and cittern all had frets on the fingerboard, but they were then simply bits of string tied round at the right places for the fingers, and made fast with glue. Their use is referred to in the next line, to 'tune' the strings, _i.e._, to 'stop' the string accurately at each semitone.

There is a quaint ill.u.s.tration of ll. 1135-6, about the nightingale singing 'against a thorn' to keep her awake, in the words of a favourite old part song of King Henry VIII., 'By a bank as I lay,'

where the poem has these lines on the nightingale--

'She syngeth in the thyke; and under her brest A p.r.i.c.ke, to kepe hur fro sleepe.'

In close connection with this is the conversation between Julia and her maid Lucetta, in _Two Gent._ I, ii, 76-93, about the letter from Proteus.

_Jul._ Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme.

_Luc._ That I might _sing_ it, madam, to a _tune_: _Give me a note_: your ladyship can _set_.

_Jul._ As little by such toys as may be possible: Best sing it to the tune of "Light o' love."

_Luc._ It is too heavy for so _light_ a tune.