Part 25

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 passage 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 appetite 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.

* * * * *

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.--

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.

The next passage brings us to another class 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 passage 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 class--

... 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.

... 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.'