Chapter III: Songs and Singing

It is impossible here to give even an outline of the history of Songs and Singing in England. The general statement must suffice that vocal music, accompanied by viols and harps, with songs and catches, were common in the year 1230 in France; and any reader of Chaucer and Gower may see for himself that vocal music was flourishing in the 14th century in England. The English Round or Catch, mentioned above, 'Sumer is icumen in,' is most probably of the 13th century, and that alone would be sufficient to characterise the popular vocal music of that day. This composition is advanced in every way, being very melodious, and at the same time showing that vocal harmony (_i.e._, singing in parts) was greatly appreciated.

To proceed to a time nearer the age with which we are concerned--in Henry VII.'s reign, there were many songs written, some for voices only, and some with instrumental accompaniment. Amongst the former are two songs in three parts, the music by William Cornyshe, Junior, which are given in Hawkins.

Skelton wrote the words of the first, 'Ah, beshrew you by my fay,' which is very coarse in tone, as was frequently the case with him; and the second one, 'Hoyday, jolly ruttekin,' is a satire on the drunken habits of the Flemings who came over with Anne of Cleves. Mrs Page (_Wiv._ II, i, 23) refers to these Dutchmen, where, after receiving Falstaff's love-letter, she exclaims, 'what an unweighed behaviour hath this _Flemish Drunkard_ picked (with the devil's name!) out of my conversation, that he dares in this manner assay me?'

The following is a curious picture by 'Skelton, Laureate,' of an ignorant singer, who appears to have been throwing mud at the poet. Skelton gives us a sad account both of his morals and his music.

The 3rd verse begins--

With hey troly loly, lo whip here Jak,
Alumbek, sodyldym syllorym ben,
Curiously he can both _counter_ and knak,
Of Martin Swart, and all his merry men;
Lord, how Perkyn is proud of his Pohen,
But ask wher he findeth among his _monachords_
An holy-water-clark a ruler of lordes.
He cannot fynd it in _rule_ nor in _space_,
He _solfyth_ too haute, hys _trybyll_ is too high,
He braggyth of his byrth that borne was full base,
Hys musyk _withoute mesure, too sharp_, is _his 'my'_,
He trymmeth in his _tenor_ to _counter_ pardy,
His _descant_ is besy,[15] it is without a _mene_,
Too fat is his fantsy, his wyt is too lene.

He tumbryth on a _lewde lewte_, Rotybulle Joyse,
Rumbill downe, tumbill downe, hey go, now now,
He _fumblyth in his fyngering_ an ugly rude noise,
It seemyth the sobbyng of an old sow:
He wolde be made moch of, and he wyst how;
Well sped in spindels and tuning of travellys
A bungler, a brawler, a picker of quarrels.

Comely he clappyth a _payre of clavicordys_
He _whystelyth_ so swetely he maketh me to swet,
His _discant_ is dashed full of _discordes_,
A red angry man, but easy to intrete; etc.

[Footnote 15: 'Besy,' that is, 'busy,' meaning 'fussy,' a bad fault in descant, as it is to this day in counterpoint.]

Further on we read--

For lordes and ladyes lerne at his scole,
He techyth them so wysely to _solf_ and to _fayne_,
That neither they sing wel _prike-song_ nor _plain_.

Skelton's main objection to this person is that he, being in reality of very humble origin, presumed on his very doubtful musical abilities to gain a footing amongst his betters. As he says, 'For Jak wold be a Jentilman that late was a grome.'

Evidently 'Jak' had managed to make good his position as a fashionable teacher of singing, in spite of the defects plainly mentioned in the above verses. In the first verse, 'counter' is a musical term, here used with the meaning of 'to embroider' the tale. 'Knack' is still used in Yorkshire for 'affected talk.' 'Monachord' is the ancient one-stringed fiddle called Tromba Marina, and is here used as a joke on 'monachi' or 'holy water clarks.' In verse 2, '_rule_ and space' is simply 'line and space,' _i.e._, on the musical staff. 'Solfyth too haute' is 'Solfa's too high.' The 'my' which was 'too sharp' is the Mi, the seventh note of the scale, mentioned above as the critical point in Solfa. In verse 3, 'lewde lewte' means merely 'vulgar lute'; and 'Rotybulle Joyse' is the title of an old song. The 'payre of clavicordys' is the clavichord, which in 1536 was a keyed instrument of much the same kind as the virginals,[16] with about three and a half octaves. It was used by nuns, and therefore had its strings muffled with bits of cloth to deaden the sound.

[Footnote 16: It was the _German_ clavichord that had 'tangents' of brass at the ends of the key levers. These tangents cut off the proper length of the string, and made it sound at the same time. The Italians called an instrument with a 'jack' action like the virginal by the name clavichord.]

The last three lines quoted mention 'solfa' and 'fayne.' The latter is 'feigned' music, or Musica Ficta, which at this time was the art of dislocating the 'Mi,' so as to change the key. It was seldom that more than one flat was found in those days, and this would move the Mi from _B_ to _E_, thus constituting 'fayned' music.

This account will give a general idea of the kind of songs and singing that were to be found in 1500.

Popular songs, 'Rotybulle Joyse,' with a burden of 'Rumbill downe, tumbill downe,' etc., accompanied by a 'lewde lewte'; clavichord playing; solfaing; singing of both 'prick-' and 'plain-' song, with Musica Ficta; besides the delectable art of 'whysteling'; seem to have been matters in ordinary practice at the beginning of the 16th century. Add to these the songs in three parts, with rounds or catches for several voices, and we have no mean list of musicianly accomplishments, which the men of Shakespeare's day might inherit.

In Shakespeare, besides the songs most commonly known (some of which are by earlier authors), there are allusions to many kinds of vocal music, and scraps of the actual words of old songs--some with accompaniment, some without; a duet; a trio; a chorus; not to mention several rounds, either quoted or alluded to.

It will be useful here to refer to a few of these less known examples.

_L.L.L._ I, ii, 106. The Ballad of 'The King and the Beggar.' Moth says "The world was very guilty of such a ballad some three ages since; but I think now 'tis not to be found; or, if it were, it would neither serve for the writing, nor the tune."

_Id._ III, i, 2. Moth begins a song 'Concolinel,' which Armado calls a 'sweet air.'

Various snatches of ballads, ancient and modern--_e.g._,

(_a_) By Falstaff. _H. 4. B._ II, iv, 32, 'When Arthur first in court began,' 'And was a worthy king.'

(_b_) By Master Silence. _H. 4. B._ V, iii, 18. 'Do nothing but eat, and make good cheer,' etc.; 'Be merry, be merry, my wife has all,' etc.; 'A cup of wine, that's brisk and fine,' etc. 'Fill the cup, and let it come,' etc.; 'Do me right, And dub me knight,' etc.; 'and Robin Hood, Scarlet, and John.'

(_c_) By Benedick, _Much Ado_ V, ii, 23. 'The god of love.'

(_d_) The old tune 'Light o' love' [see Appendix], the original words of which are unknown. _Much Ado_ III, iv, 41, 'Clap us into "Light o' love;" that goes without a burden; do you sing it, and I'll dance it.' Here is one verse of 'A very proper Dittie,' to the tune of "Lightie Love" (date 1570).

"By force I am fixed my fancie to write,
Ingratitude willeth me not to refrain:
Then blame me not, Ladies, although I indite
What lighty love now amongst you doth rayne,
Your traces in places, with outward allurements,
Dothe moove my endevour to be the more playne:
Your nicyngs and tycings, with sundrie procurements,
To publish your lightie love doth me constraine."

There were several songs of the 16th century that went to this tune. See also Shakespeare, _Gent._ I, ii, 80, and Fletcher, _Two Noble Kinsmen_ V, ii, 54.

(_e_) Song by Parson Evans, _Wiv._ III, i, 18; 'To shallow rivers,' for words of which see Marlowe's 'Come live with me,' printed in the 'Passionate Pilgrim,' Part xx. [see tunes in Appendix]. Sir Hugh is in a state of nervous excitement, and the word 'rivers' brings 'Babylon' into his head, so he goes on mixing up a portion of the version of Ps. cxxxvii. with Marlowe.

(_f_) By Sir Toby. _Tw. Nt._ II, iii, 79, 85, 102. Peg-a-Ramsey, 'Three merry men be we,' 'There dwelt a man in Babylon,' 'O! the twelfth day of December,' 'Farewell, dear heart.' [For tunes, see Appendix].

(_g_) _As You Like It_ II, v. Song with Chorus, 'Under the greenwood tree,' 2nd verse '_all together here_.'

(_h_) By Pandarus, _Troil._ III, i, 116. Song, 'Love, love, nothing but love,' accompanied on an 'instrument' by the singer himself.

(_i_) Another, _Id._ IV, iv, 14, 'O heart, heavy heart.'

(_j_) _Lear_ I, iv, 168, two verses sung by the Fool, 'Fools had ne'er less grace in a year.'

(_k_) Ballads by Autolycus, _Winter's Tale_ IV, ii, 1, 15. 'When daffodils,' 'But shall I go mourn for that.' _Id._ sc. ii. end, 'Jog on' [see Appendix]; _Id._ sc. iii. 198, 'Whoop, do me no harm, good man' [Appendix]; _Id._ l. 219, 'Lawn, as white as driven snow'; _Id._ l. 262, Ballad of the 'Usurer's wife,' to a 'very doleful tune'; _Id._ l. 275, Ballad of a Fish, 'very pitiful'; _Id._ l. 297, A song _in three parts_, to the tune of 'Two maids wooing a man,' "Get you hence, for I must go"; _Id._ l. 319, Song, 'Will you buy any tape' (_cf._ The round by Jenkins, b. 1592, 'Come, pretty maidens,' see Rimbault's Rounds, Canons, and Catches).

(_l_) Duet by King Cymbeline's two sons; Funeral Song over Imogen, _Cymb._ IV, ii, 258, 'Fear no more the heat of the sun.'

(_m_) Stephano's 'scurvy tunes,' _Temp._ II, ii, 41, 'I shall no more to sea,' 'The master, the swabber,' etc. [Appendix]. _Id._ l. 175, Caliban's Song, 'Farewell, master,' etc.

(_n_) Song accompanied by lute. _H._ 8. III, i. 'Orpheus.'

Besides these there are allusions to the names of various popular tunes and catches, of which the music is still to be had. Amongst these are--

'The Hunt is up' [Appendix]. See _Rom. and Jul._ III, v, 34. Juliet says of the lark's song, 'that voice doth us affray, Hunting thee hence with _hunts-up_ to the day.' Any rousing morning song, even a love-song, was called a _hunts-up_. The tune of this song was also sung (in 1584) to 'O sweete Olyver, leave me not behind the,' but altering the time to 4 in a bar. See _As You Like It_ III, iii, 95.

'Heart's ease' [Appendix], the words of which are not known. Tune before 1560. See _Romeo_ IV, v, 100.

_Id._, 'My heart is full of woe.'

_Id._ l. 125. 'When griping grief' [Appendix], by Richard Edwards, gentleman of Queen Elizabeth's Chapel, printed in the 'Paradyse of daynty Devises' (printed 1577). Hawkins gives four verses, the first of which is here quoted by Shakespeare, but with several variations--

'_Where_ griping grief the hart _would_ wound,
And doleful domps the mind oppresse,
_There_ Musick with her silver sound
_Is wont with spede to give_ redresse;
Of troubled minds, for every sore,
Swete Musick hath a salve in store.'

The last verse is charming--

'Oh heavenly gift, that turnes the minde,
Like as the sterne doth rule the ship,
Of musick whom the Gods assignde,
To comfort man whom cares would nip;
Sith thou both man and beast doest move,
What wise man then will thee reprove.'

'Green Sleeves' [Appendix].

_Wiv._ II, i, 60.

_Mrs Ford._ ... I would have sworn his disposition
[Falstaff's] would have gone to the truth of his words; but
they do _no more adhere_ and _keep place_ together, than the
_Hundredth Psalm_ to the _tune of 'Green Sleeves_.'

Also see _Wiv._ V, v, 20. The tune is given in its most complete form by Chappell, and is probably of Henry VIII.'s time. The ballad was published in 1580, with title, 'A new Northerne dittye of the Ladye Greene Sleeves.' Verse 1 is as follows:--

"Alas my love, you do me wrong
To cast me off discourteously,
And I have lovèd you so long,
Delighting in your company.
Greensleeves was all my joy,
Greensleeves was my delight,
Greensleeves was my heart of gold,
And who but my Lady Greensleeves."

The 'Hundredth Psalm' (All people that on earth do dwell) will only adhere and keep place with the tune of Green Sleeves to a certain extent. If the reader will try to sing it to the tune in the Appendix, he will find that in the first half he is led into several false accents; while the second half is quite unmanageable without altering the notes. There is, however, a form of the tune in Hawkins which is much further off 'the truth of the words,' for it has exactly the right quantity of _notes_, but the _accents_ are all as wrong as possible, thus--

[Transcriber's Note: In the passage below, "u" represents a breve and "-" a macron.]

- u - u - u -
_All_ peo-_ple_ that _on_ earth _do_

u u u u u u - u -
_Dwell_ sing to _the_ Lord with _cheer_ful _voice_.

It may be that this form of 'Green Sleeves' was known better than the older one in Shakespeare's day.

'Carman's whistle' [Appendix].

_H. 4. B._ III, ii, 320. Falstaff soliloquises on Shallow's lies concerning his wild youth.

_Fal._ He (Shallow) came ever in the rearward of the
fashion, and _sung those tunes_ ... that he heard the
_carmen whistle_, and sware--they were his _fancies_, or his
_goodnights_.... The _case of a treble hautboy_ was a
mansion for him, a court.

The Carman's Whistle was a popular Elizabethan tune, and was arranged as a virginal lesson by Byrd. This arrangement can be had most readily in Litolff's publication, 'Les maîtres du Clavecin.'

The 'fancies' referred to above are the 'Fantazies' already remarked on (chest of viols); and the 'Goodnights' are songs _in memoriam_, or dirges.

'Fortune my foe.' [Appendix]. _Merry Wives_ III, iii, 62. _Falstaff_ (to Mrs Ford). 'I see what thou wert, if _Fortune thy foe_ were not, Nature thy friend.' This old tune is at latest of Elizabeth's time, and was sung to the ancient ballad of "Titus Andronicus." The first verse of 'Fortune my foe' is as follows:--

"Fortune my foe, why dost thou frown on me?
And will thy favour never better be?
Wilt thou, I say, for ever breed my pain,
And wilt thou not restore my joyes again?"

'Ophelia's Songs.' _Hamlet_ IV, v. [Appendix]. 'How should I your true love know'; 'Good morrow, 'tis St Valentine's day'; 'They bore him barefaste'; 'Bonny sweet Robin'; 'And will he not come again.'

The one line of 'Bonny sweet Robin' is all that remains of the song, except the title, which is also the first line--viz., 'My Robin is to the greenwood gone.' The line Shakespeare gives would be the last. One tune to it is at any rate older than 1597.

Lastly, there are the old catches, 'Hold thy peace,' sung by Toby, Sir Andrew, and Feste in _Twelfth Night_ II, iii; 'Jack boy, ho boy, news, The cat is in the well,' etc., referred to by Grumio in _Shrew_ IV, i, 42; besides 'Flout 'em and scout em,' sung by Stephano, Trinculo, and Caliban in _Tempest_ III, ii; and 'What shall he have that killed the deer,' for the foresters in _As You Like It_ IV, ii, 5. The original music of the first two, probably much earlier than Shakespeare, is in the Appendix. A Round for four voices by John Hilton (flourished 1600) to 'What shall he have,' is probably the first setting, and may be seen in Rimbault, p. 19. Purcell (1675) set 'Flout 'em' as a catch for three voices, which is in Caulfield's Collection of Shakespeare Vocal Music, 1864. These last two are poor specimens of Catches, so they are not printed here. [The proper reading of 'Flout 'em,' in the 4tos and 1st Fol. is 'Flout 'em and _cout_ 'em! and _skowt_ 'em, and flout 'em! Thought is free.']

The following passage contains a large quantity of the history of songs in the 16th century, and is one of the most important to be found in Shakespeare. Autolycus sells ballads 'of all sizes' among his wares; the country folk, Mopsa, Dorcas, and the Clown, buy them, and afterwards sing them; and the rustic servant distinctly prefers the pedlar's vocalisation to their accustomed 'tabor and pipe,' or even to the 'bagpipe.'

_Winter's Tale_ IV, iii, 181.

_Servant._ O master! if you did but hear the _pedlar_ at the
door, you would _never dance again after a tabor and pipe_;
no, the _bagpipe_ could not move you. He _sings several
tunes_ faster than you'll tell money; he utters them as he
had _eaten ballads_, and all men's ears grew to his tunes.

_Clown._ He could never come better: he shall come in. _I
love a ballad_ but even too well; if it be doleful matter,
merrily set down, or a very pleasant thing indeed, and sung
lamentably.

_Serv._ He hath _songs_, for man or woman, _of all
sizes_.... He has the prettiest _love-songs_ for maids; so
without bawdry, which is strange; with such _delicate
burdens_ of "dildos" and "fadings," "jump her and thump
her"; ... "_Whoop, do me no harm, good man._"

L. 212.

_Clo._ Pr'ythee, bring him in, and let him _approach
singing_.

_Perdita._ Forewarn him, that he use _no scurrilous words_
in 's tunes.

L. 259.

_Clo._ [to Autolycus]. What hast here? _ballads_?

_Mopsa._ 'Pray now, buy some: I love a _ballad in print_, o'
life, for _then we are sure they are true_.

_Autolycus._ Here's one to a _very doleful tune_ ... [of a
usurer's wife].

L. 273.

_Clo._ Come on, lay it by: and let's first see _more
ballads_....

_Aut._ Here's _another ballad, of a fish_, that ... sung
this ballad against the hard hearts of maids: ... the ballad
is _very pitiful_, and as true.

L. 285.

_Clo._ Lay it by too: another.

_Aut._ This is a _merry ballad_, but a _very pretty_ one.

_Mop._ Let's have some merry ones.

_Aut._ Why, this is a passing merry one, and _goes to the
tune of_ "Two maids wooing a man," there's scarce a maid
westward but she sings it: _'tis in request_, I can tell
you.

_Mop._ We can _both_ sing it: if _thou'lt bear a part_
[_i.e._, Autolycus], thou shalt hear; 'tis in _three parts_.

_Dorcas._ We had the _tune_ on't a month ago.

_Aut._ _I can bear my part_; you must know, _'tis my
occupation_: have at it with you.

[They sing 'Get you hence,' in three parts.]

_Clo._ We'll have the song out anon _by ourselves_.

L. 328.

_Servant._ Master, there is _three_ carters, _three_
shepherds, _three_ neat herds, _three_ swine herds, that
have made themselves all _men of hair_: they call themselves
_Saltiers_; and they have a _dance_, which the wenches say
is a _gallimaufry_ of gambols, because they are not in't....

* * * * *

L. 609.

_Aut._ _My clown_ (who wants but something to be a
reasonable man) grew so in love with the wenches' _song_,
that he would not stir his pettitoes, _till he had both tune
and words_.

The tabor and pipe, in the servant's first speech, were common popular instruments. The tabor, of course, was a small drum, which was used as accompaniment to the pipe, a small whistle with three holes, but with a compass of 18 notes. (See Frontispiece.) In its curiously disproportionate compass, it may be compared to the modern 'Picco' pipe of the music shops. Mersennus (middle of 17th century) mentions an Englishman, John Price, who was an accomplished player. It is played on by Ariel, see a subsequent quotation from _The Tempest_ III, ii, 126 and 152. Also _Much Ado_ II, iii, 13; and the tabor alone, in _Twelfth Night_ III, i.

The Bagpipe[17] was very similar to the instruments of that name which still exist. At the present moment there are four kinds in use--Highland Scotch, Lowland Scotch, Northumbrian, and Irish. The last has bellows instead of a 'bag,' but in other ways they are very much alike. They all have 'drones,' which sound a particular note or notes continually, while the tune is played on the 'chanter.' Shakespeare himself tells us of another variety--viz., the Lincolnshire bagpipe, in _Hen. 4. A._ I, ii, 76, where Falstaff compares his low spirits to the melancholy 'drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe.'[18]

[Footnote 17: The Bagpipe appears on a coin of Nero. Also there is a figure of an _angel_ playing it, in a crosier given by William of Wykeham to New Coll., Oxon., in 1403.]

[Footnote 18: What is a 'woollen bagpipe'? See _Merchant_ IV, i, 55.]

The servant's second speech refers to the character of the words of the popular ballads, which were too often coarse and even indecent.

'Love-songs' are quite a large class, frequently referred to. For instance, _Two Gent._ II, i, 15.

_Val._ Why, how know you that I am in love?

_Speed._ Marry by these special marks.
First, you have learn'd ...
_To relish a love song_, like a robin-redbreast;

_Rom._ II, iv, 15.

_Mercutio._ 'Alas, poor Romeo! he is already dead;
... run thorough the ear _with a love-song_.'

besides the passage from _Twelfth Nt._ II, iii, quoted further on, where Feste offers Sir Toby and Sir Andrew their choice between 'a love-song, or a song of good life.'

The 'delicate burdens,' 'dildos and fadings,' 'jump her and thump her,' are to be found in examples of the period. A Round of Matt. White, 'The Courtier scorns the country clowns' (date about 1600) has for its third and last line 'With a fading, fading, fading, fading,' etc. 'Whoop, do me no harm' has already been spoken of.

In l. 214 of the _Winter's Tale_ passage, Perdita again takes precaution against Autolycus using 'scurrilous words.'

From l. 285 to l. 327, the passage refers to a very interesting department of 16th century singing--viz., the habit of performing songs in three vocal parts. The singers were called Threeman-songmen, and the songs themselves 'Threeman songs,' or 'Freemen's Songs.' [_Freemen_ is simply a corruption of _Threemen_. Mr Aldis Wright tells me it is analogous to _Thills_ or _Fills_, for the shafts of a waggon. Rimbault, in the preface to 'Rounds, Canons, and Catches,' is highly indignant with Ritson's 'inconceivably strange notion' that Freemen is only a form of Threemen. Rimbault's reason was that 'Deuteromelia' (1609) does contain Freemen's Songs in _four_ parts. Mr Aldis Wright also gives me the expression '_six_-men's song,' from Percy's Reliques, also these definitions, which will all go to settle the matter: Florio, Italian Dictionary, 1611; _Strambotti_, country gigges, rounds, catches, virelaies or _threemen's songs_; _Cantarini_, such as sing _threemen's songs_; _Berlingozzo_.... Also a drunken or _threemen's song_.

Cotgrave, French Dict. 1611; Virelay. m. A virelay, round, _free_mans song].

Giraldus Cambrensis says that singing in parts was indigenous to the parts beyond the Humber, and on the borders of Yorkshire. Threeman singing may still be heard (not as an exotic), in Wales and the West of England. This last is referred to in the above passage, 'There's scarce a maid westward but she sings it'--viz., the song in three parts.

Shakespeare is strictly historical in making a pedlar, and two country lasses, capable of 'bearing a part' in a composition of this sort.

The company of 'men of hair,' calling themselves 'Saltiers,' may derive their name from the dance, 'Saltarello.' Gallimaufry is 'Galimathias,' a muddle, or hotch potch. (See _Merry Wives_ II, i, 115).

The threemansong men are more particularly described in _Winter's Tale_ IV, ii, 41.

_Clown._ She hath made me four-and-twenty nosegays for the
_shearers; three-man song-men all, and very good ones_, but
they are _most of them means and bases_; but _one Puritan_
amongst them, and he _sings psalms to hornpipes_.

These musical harvesters square closely with the account given in the Introduction, of music amongst the lower classes. Here were 24 good glee singers, with the single defect that their tenors were very weak, 'most of them means [altos] and basses.' The Puritan was most accommodating, and his singing the words of psalms to the tune of the hornpipe would tend to shew that the Old Adam was not all put away as yet. His compromise with his conscience reminds one of the old stories (all too true) of church singers in the 15th and 16th centuries, who would sing the by no means respectable words of popular comic ditties to the solemn strains of the mass 'l'homme armé,' or whatever well-known melody the music happened to be constructed on.

An example of a threemansong will be found in the Appendix, 'We be soldiers three.'

Shakespeare also alludes to _sacred_ part-music. Falstaff, by his own account, was a notable singer of Anthems, in which holy service he had lost his voice; he was familiar with members of the celebrated choir of St George's Chapel at Windsor; and was not above practising the metrical Psalmody in his sadder moments.

_H. 4. B._ I, ii, 182.

_Chief Justice._ Is not your _voice broken_, your wind
short, your chin double, your wit single, and every part
about you blasted with antiquity, and will you yet call
yourself young? Fie, fie, fie, Sir John!

_Falstaff._ My lord.... For my _voice_, I have _lost it
with_ hollaing, and _singing of anthems_.

_H. 4. B._ II, i, 88.

_Hostess._ Thou didst swear to me ... upon Wednesday in
Wheeson week, when the prince broke thy head for liking his
father to a _singing-man of Windsor_.

_Hen. 4. A._ II, iv, 137. Falstaff laments the degeneracy of the times.

_Fal._ There live not three good men unhanged in England,
and one of them is fat, and grows old; God help the while! a
bad world, I say. _I would I were a weaver; I could sing
psalms or anything._

This last sentence connects curiously with Sir John Oldcastle, the leader of the Lollards, who were noted for their psalm singing, which indeed gave them the name. These Flemish Protestants, who had fled from the persecutions in their own country, were mostly _woollen_ manufacturers, and were distinguished for their love of Psalmody, throughout the western counties, where they settled. Hence the allusion to 'weavers' and 'Psalms.' But according to the Epilogue of _Hen. 4. B._, 'Oldcastle died a martyr, and _this is not the man_.'

Falstaff knew well what a Ballad was too--as the following shews:--

_Hen. 4. A._ II, ii, 43.

_Fal._ (to Hal.). Go hang thyself in thine own heir-apparent
garters! If I be ta'en, I'll peach for this. An I have not
_ballads made on you all_, and _sung to filthy tunes_, let a
cup of sack be my poison.

Two other worthy knights claim our attention in the next quotation, which contains many interesting allusions. _Inter alia_; Sir Toby gives Feste sixpence to sing a song; Sir Andrew follows it up with a 'testril.' The Clown then sings them 'O mistress mine.' [For the original music see Prof. Bridge's 'Shakespeare Songs,' Novello, a collection which every reader of Shakespeare ought to have. Price 2s. 6d.] Then, at Sir Toby's suggestion, they all three sing a catch, or, in his own words, 'draw _three_ souls out of _one_ weaver,' an allusion to the _three_ vocal parts which are evolved from the _one_ melody of the catch, as well as a sly reference to 'weavers' singing catches. (See Introduction.) They sing 'Thou knave,' for which see the Appendix. It is not a good catch, but sounds humorous if done smartly, and perhaps its very roughness suits the circumstances. Next, after Maria's entrance, Toby either quotes the titles, or sings odd lines of four old songs [Appendix]; and when Malvolio comes in, furious with the noise they are making in the middle of the night, he applies precisely those epithets to their proceedings that our histories lead us to expect--_e.g._, 'gabbling like _tinkers_,' '_alehouse_,' squeaking out your '_cozier's_ catches' ['cozier' is 'cobbler']. Sir Toby's puns on 'keep time' in ll. 94 and 115 ought not to be missed. To 'keep time' is almost the only virtue a catch singer _must_ have.

_Tw._ II, iii, 18.

_Sir To._ Welcome, ass. Now _let's have a catch_.

_Sir And._ By my troth, the fool has an _excellent breast_.
I had rather than forty shillings I had such a leg, and so
_sweet a breath to sing_, as the fool has.

L. 30.

_Sir And._ Now, _a song_.

_Sir To._ Come on; there is _sixpence_ for you; let's have
_a song_.

_Sir And._ There's a _testril_ of me too; if one knight give
a----

_Clown._ Would you have a _love-song_, or a _song of good
life_?

_Sir To._ A love-song, a love-song.

_Sir And._ Ay, ay; I care not for good life.

[_Clown_ sings 'O mistress mine.']

_Sir And._ A mellifluous voice, as I am true knight.

_Sir To._ A contagious breath.

_Sir And._ Very sweet and contagious, i'faith.

_Sir To._ To _hear by the nose_, it is _dulcet in
contagion_. But shall we make the welkin dance indeed? Shall
we rouse the night-owl in a _catch_, that will _draw three
souls out of one weaver_? Shall we do that?

_Sir And._ An you love me, let's do't: I am _dog at a
catch_.

_Clo._ By'r lady, sir, and _some dogs_ will _catch well_.

_Sir And._ Most certain. Let our _catch_ be, "Thou Knave."

_Clo._ "Hold thy peace, thou knave," knight? I shall be
constrained to _call thee knave_, knight.

_Sir And._ 'Tis not the first time I have constrained one to
call me knave. _Begin_, fool: it begins, "_Hold thy peace_."

_Clo._ I shall never begin, if I hold my peace.

_Sir And._ Good, i'faith. Come, begin.

[_They sing a catch._]

_Enter_ MARIA.

_Mar._ What a caterwauling do you keep here!

* * * * *

_Sir To._ My lady's a Cataian; we are politicians;
Malvolio's a Peg-a-Ramsey, and "_Three merry men be we_."...
_Tilly-valley_, lady! [_Sings._] "There dwelt a man in
Babylon, lady, lady!"

* * * * *

_Sir To._ [_Sings._] "O! the twelfth day of December."----

_Mar._ For the love o'God, peace!

_Enter_ MALVOLIO.

_Mal._ My masters, are you mad? or what are you? Have you no
wit, manners, nor honesty, but to _gabble like tinkers_ at
this time of night? Do ye make an _alehouse_ of my lady's
house, that ye squeak out your _cozier's catches_ without
any mitigation or remorse of voice? Is there no respect of
place, persons, or _time_ in you?

_Sir To._ _We did keep time, sir, in our catches._ Sneck up!

L. 103-114, another song, "Farewell, dear heart" [Appendix].

It is perhaps necessary to explain the nature of a Catch, or Round, more clearly. The two names were interchangeable in the 16th and 17th centuries. It was not till quite modern times that 'Catch' implied a necessary quibble in the words, deliberately arranged by the writer. First, a Catch or Round of the best type of Elizabethan times consisted of _one melody_, generally perfectly continuous. Secondly, the said melody was always divisible into a certain number of _equal sections_, varying from three to six, or even eight; and as many sections as there were, so many voices were necessary. Thirdly, each of these equal sections was deliberately arranged so as to make _Harmony_ with every other.

Here are the words of a Round of the 17th century, which is divisible into three equal sections, and therefore is sung by three voices.

1. 'Cuckoo! Hark! how he sings to us.
2. Good news the cuckoo brings to us;
3. Spring is here, says the cuckoo.'

Now, the way for three persons, A, B, and C, to sing this Catch or Round, is as follows:--

A begins [see above, line 69, '_Begin_, fool'] line 1, and immediately proceeds to line 2; at this very instant, B in his turn begins line 1, and acts similarly. When A has reached the first syllable in line 3, and B is at 'Good' in line 2, it is time for C also to begin at line 1. As soon as A has finished line 3, he begins again; and so on with the others--'round' and 'round' till they are tired of 'catching' each other up.

Thus when they are all three fairly set going, their _one_ melody produces _three part_ harmony, and the catchers have drawn 'three souls out of one weaver.'

The principle in all other Catches or Rounds is exactly the same, however great the number of parts.

In the following we have another case of catch-singing. The original music of 'Flout 'em' has not come down to us.

_Tempest_ III, ii, 122.

_Stephano._ Come on, Trinculo, _let us sing_.

[They sing a _catch_, 'Flout 'em and scout 'em.']

_Caliban._ That's not the tune. [Very likely, as they
were tipsy.]

[ARIEL _plays the tune on a tabor and pipe_.]

_Ste._ What is this same?

_Trin._ This is the _tune of our catch_, played by the
picture of Nobody.

* * * * *

L. 136.

_Cal._ Be not afeard; the isle is _full of noises_,
_Sounds_, and _sweet airs_, that give delight, and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand _twangling instruments_
Will hum about mine ears; and sometime _voices_, &c.

_Ste._ This will prove a brave kingdom to me, where I
_shall have my music for nothing_.

L. 152.

I would, I could _see_ this taborer: [Ariel] he _lays it
on_.

Also _Id._ III, ii, 119.

Stephano, like most of the scamps in Shakespeare, is a good musician. He leads the catch, appreciates Ariel's tabor playing (l. 152), and is overjoyed to think that he will have all his music 'for nothing' (l. 145) in the magical isle.

Finally, in the _Taming of the Shrew_, we have the title of another old catch, of which the music has survived--viz., 'Jack, boy.'

_Shrew_ IV, i, 42.

_Curtis._ Therefore, good Grumio, the _news_.

_Grumio._ Why, "_Jack, boy! ho, boy!_" and as much _news_ as
thou wilt.

The words of this catch, which takes four voices, are--

'Jack, boy, ho! boy, news;
The cat is in the well,
Let us ring now for her knell,
Ding, dong, ding, dong, bell.'

The music [see Appendix], like that of so many other catches, is anonymous, and is of some date long before Shakespeare.

_As You_ V, iii, 7.

_Touchstone._ By my troth, well met. Come, sit, sit, and a
_song_.

_2 Page._ We are for you; sit i' the middle.

_1 Page._ Shall we _clap into 't roundly, without hawking,
or spitting_, or _saying we are hoarse_, which are the _only
prologues to a bad voice_?

_2 Page._ I' faith, i' faith; and _both in a tune_, like two
gipsies on a horse.

[Song follows, 'It was a lover.' Could be sung as a _two_-part madrigal quite easily. See Bridge's 'Shakespeare Songs,' for Morley's original setting.]

_Touch._ Truly, young gentlemen, though there was no great
matter in the ditty, yet the _note_ was very _untuneable_.

_1 Page._ You are deceived, sir; _we kept time_; we _lost
not our time_.

_Touch._ By my troth, _yes_; I count it but _time lost_ to
hear such a foolish song. God be wi' you; and _God mend your
voices_. Come, Audrey.

The First Page's speech at l. 9. is most humorously appropriate. 'Both in a tune, like two gipsies on a horse,' is a quaint description of a duet. There is yet another pun on 'lost time' in ll. 36-8.

Jaques' cynicism comes out even in his limited dealings with music.

_As You_ IV, ii, 5.

_Jaques._ Have you no _song_, forester, for this purpose?

_2 Lord._ Yes, sir.

_Jaq._ Sing it; _'tis no matter how it be in tune, so it
make noise enough_.

Song follows, 'What shall he have, that kill'd the deer,' Rimbault, p. 19. Music by Hilton, date about 1600, probably the original setting, a Round for four foresters.

This section will conclude with two quotations about singing of a more serious turn.

_Tw._ II, iv, 1.

_Duke._ _Give me some music._--Now, good morrow, friends.
Now, good Cesario, but that _piece of song_,
That _old and antique song_, we heard last night;
Methought, it did relieve my passion much,
More than _light airs_, ...
Come; but _one verse_.

_Curio._ He is not here, so please your lordship, that
should sing it.

_Duke._ Who was it?

_Cur._ Feste, the jester, my lord: ...

_Duke._ Seek him out, and _play the tune the while_.

L. 20.

[To Cesario]--How dost thou like _this tune_?

_Viola._ _It gives a very echo_ to the seat
Where love is thron'd.

L. 43.

_Duke._ Mark it, Cesario; _it is old, and plain_;

[_Clown_ sings 'Come away, death.']

L. 67.

_Duke._ There's for thy pains.

_Clo._ _No pains, sir; I take pleasure in singing, sir._

_Duke._ I'll pay thy pleasure then.

'Light airs' in line 5 means 'vain fiddling jigs'--_i.e._, lively instrumental music. Lines 20-22 and 43 are worth remembering for many reasons.

The next and last passage requires no remark, except that 'organ pipe of frailty' means simply the voice of the dying king.

_King John_ V, vii, 10. Death of K. John.

_Prince Henry._ Doth he still rage?

_Pembroke._ He is more patient
Than when you left him: _even now he sung_.

_P. Hen._ _O vanity of sickness!..._
... 'Tis _strange that death should sing_.
I am the _cygnet_ to this pale faint _swan_,
Who _chants a doleful hymn_ to his own death,
And, from the _organ-pipe of frailty_, sings
His soul and body to their lasting rest.