FeraboscOy At London, printed by " Thomas Este, Perhaps they speak not English so well " as they sing Italian, and alas I how could they, being as " yet but late sojourners in England? Howbeit I humbly " desire yourself principally, and in your name, all others " for whose delight they were intended ; to supply their de- " fects with friendly interpretation. And so, humbly bow- " ing myself, I rest, at your devotion wholly and ever. Yonge's first work, such is most probably the case. The style of versification at all events is very similar. The white delightsome swan sweet singing dieth ; And I lamenting Feel both sense and life relenting.
Strange and unlike proceeding, that he should die distressed, And I die most blessed.
Death which in all thy wronging Fill'st me with gladness, and with sweet love longing ; If in thy pangs no greater grief do seize me, A thousand deaths a day would not displease me. Music hy Orazio Vecchif For in my heart is carved Thy lovely shape, and there thy love preserved. Still I see thee, and still attend the morning. To see the sun our hemisphere adorning. O if that blissful hour may once relieve me. Kill me forthwith, good Love ; it shall not grieve me.
Music by Giulio EremUa, Cynthia, thy song and chaunting So strange a flame in gentle hearts awaketh ; That every cold desire wanton love maketh Sounds to thy praise and vaunting Of Syrens most commended, That with delightful tunes for praise contended. For when thou sweetly soundest, Thou neither kill'st nor woundest : But dost revive a number Of bodies buried in perpetual slumber. Music by Giov, Croce, This Madrigal is quite unintelligible, and sets all the rules of common sense and grammar at defiance ; and yet the music is so beautiful, and every one is so accustomed to sing it to these words, that perhaps the original version would not afford so much pleasure.
Fly, if thou wilt be flying, Foe to my heart so wrathful : Which more and more grows faithful. Desire pursues thee crying, To tell thee of his torment and my dying. But if my heart's desire be not with grief confounded, I hope by love to see thee caught or wounded. Music by Gitdio Eremita, At sound of her sweet voice and words betraying, My hope advanced that fair desire had founded ; But as brave Thebes was built by harps' sweet playing.
And fell by sound of warlike trump confounded ; So that despiteful tongue with rage inflamed, Sounding th' alarm unto my heart amazed, Of that proud hope the which to fall was framed. Left not one rampire to the ground unrazed. Music by Z. QuirUiani, There is a story told of some one who on all occasions was very fond of relating an anecdote about a gun, which if he could not exactly introduce with reference to the current conversation, he used to preface by exclaiming, " Hark I " did not you hear the report of a gun?
The river Eleusina says no less a man than Aristotle is so merrily disposed, that it will dance to a fiddle, bubbling at the sound of music, and will grow very muddy; but as soon as the music ceaseth, it ceaseth its motion, re- turning to its former calmness and clearness. Brown is my love, but graceful ; And each renowned whiteness Matched with her lovely brown, loseth its brightness.
Fair is my love, but scornful ; Yet have I seen despised White dainty lilies, and sad flow'rs well prized. Music hy Alfonso FeraboscOy But since thereby my heart is cheered, Maugre ill luck and spiteful slanders, Mine eyes shall not be my commanders. For I maintain and ever shall ; Better the windows bide the dangers, Than to spoil the house and all.
Ferabasco, I do not recollect any Madrigal of a Bacchanalian cha- racter save this. Paul bids Timothy drink wine for his stomach's '' sake, or some such honest occasion. In flower of April springing, When pleasant birds to sport them, Among the woods consort them ; Warbling with cheerful notes and sweetly singing, For joy Clora the fair her song was chaimting.
Of her, and her Elpine, the sweet loves vaunting. Music hy A, Ferabosco, Now springs each plant to Heav'n aloft aspiring, And in fair fields of violets and roses, Cheerfully sport them wanton loves with gladness : Since she whose sacred breast my life incloses. After so long distress, great grief, and sadness. Doth make me blest above all heart's desiring.
Quintiani, Dainty white pearl, and you fresh smiling roses, The nectar sweet distilling : O why are you unwilling Of my sighs inly firing? Oh I yet my heart herself in them discloses : Some relief thence desiring. Music by A. JBicci, Without the original words, the reader would scarcely discover the above to be an address to a fair lady's mouth.
So saith my fair and beautiful Lycoris, When now and then she talketh With me of love, Love is a sprite that walketh, That soars and flies ; And none alive can hold him. Nor touch him nor behold him. Yet when her eye she turneth, I spy where he sojoumeth. In her eyes there he flies, But none can catch him, Till from her lips he fetch him. Mtmc by Luca Marenzio, Este, being in Aldersgate Street, at the sign of the " Black Horse, He was a man of very considerable scholastic acquirements, and moreover seemed fond of displaying them, as the dedication of this work to the Earl of Essex, and an accompanying eulogium on the great musician Luca Marenzio, are both in Latin verse.
His Hecatompathiay or Passionate Century ofLove, contains a hundred Sonnets, which exhibit very little of the real spirit of poetry, but a great deal of pedantry. He at one time formed an idea of translating Petrarch into Latin verse, vide Dr. Nott's edit, of the Earl of Surrey's Poems, note, vol. He is supposed to have died about Next to Morley's adaptations of English words to Italian music, these of Mr. Watson are the worst I speak of the 15th century with which I am acquainted. The annals of the modem stage could furnish examples of much greater bar- barities committed upon the language which a Shakspeare has immortalized ; in the shape of foreign operas adapted to English words, by those who it would appear scarcely know a substantive from an adjective, or a verb from its nominative case.
Those days knew no suspect; each one might freely prate. And dance and sing and play with his consociate. Then lovers used like turtles kiss full lovingly. O honey days and customs of antiquity I 60 "watson's selection. But now the world so full is of fond jealousy, That charity we term wanton iniquity. Watson in the preceding page, this Madrigal is not bad. Here does he, two centuries and a half ago, complain of the artificial state of society, and regrets the golden days of a bygone age ; perhaps as many years hereafter, our posterity may look back upon us as having lived in a happy state of Utopian innocence.
Vautor, Fair shepherd's Queen I Let 's hand in hand enchained, Dance up and down the green Like friends unfeigned ; And merrily recount Our happy days, While climbing up the mount,. My tender flock unheeded strays. Music hy Luca Marenzio, For instance, the seventh and eighth lines in the original run thus, " While my tender flock climbs up the mount, " And there stays. Mime by G. I cannot with truth say that these lines are very intelli- gible ; why could not Mr.
W, have translated or imitated the original? Turbervilh, Spenser makes use of the same bombast in praise of Queen Elizabeth : " I saw Phcebus thrust out his golden head " On her to gaze. The Fates, alas I too cruel, Have slain before his day Diana's chiefest jewel. But worthy Meliboeus in a moment With Astrophil is placed above the firmament Oh I they both live in pleasure Where joys exceed all measure. Mtmc by Lvjca Mhrenzioy In order to understand what all this is about, the reader must be informed that under the name of Diana is repre- sented Queen Elizabeth ; Meliboeus is Sir Francis Walsing- ham, whose untimely death the poet bewails ; and Astrophil, as every reader of old poetry knows, is the nom de guerre of Sir PhUip Sydney, who died This elucidation is given from a separate publication by Watson, entitled ah Eclogue on Sir F.
All ye that joy in wailing. The world may see what ills in love betide me ; And after death do this in my behove. Tell Cressed, Troilus is dead for love. Music by G. Nanini, Was a pupil of the celebrated William Byrd, and accord- ing to Anthony Wood took his degree as Bachelor of Music in As a theorist he certainly was excelled by none of his day ; but as a composer, I consider him deci- dedly inferior to Wilbye or Weelkes.
Holland and Cooke who reprinted some of his works assert, neither his original compositions nor his adaptations from the Italian do him much credit. Some of the latter especially are execrable. An old stave from Thomas Churchyards Charities a. Imprimis, froni the Madrigals of Felice Anerio, which he has dished up by wholesale in his Canzonets for two voices; and secondly from the Balletti of Gastoldi, which have furnished him with musical ideas the words of course he had a right to make free use of, for his " Fa las to five voices. He died about the year His earliest work appears to be " Canzonets or little short Songs to three voices, newly " published by Thos.
Morley, then Organist of Paul's Church. Receive then, most " worthy Lady, these simple gifts worthy to be received even " of the greatest Princes that the world hath, not because " they are mine, but because they now are yours, to which " if at any time your Ladyship shall but vouchsafe your " heavenly voice, it cannot be, but they will so return per- " fumed with the sweetness of that breath, as the air will " be made even delightful thereby, and for that cause come " to be in request and sought for ever after.
Four additional ones appear in the edition published a. The heart of her who would not be mollified by such a gift must have been harder than the nether millstone: per- haps she was one of those who are of opinion, with Shen- stone's fair one, that " Hold out, my heart, with joy's delights accloy'd, Hold out, my heart, and show it.
That all the 'world may know it ; What sweet content thou lately hast enjoy'd. My true love not regarding ; Hath given my love at length its full rewarding. So that unless I tell the joys that overfill me, My joys kept in I know in time will kill me. A coquettish nymph is here well described, but Sir W. Raleigh takes a much more concise view, and comprises the matter in two lines : " The lass saith wo, yet would full fain ; " And this is love, as I hear say'n.
Blow, Shepherds, blow your pipes, With gladsome glee resounding : See where the fair Eliza comes With love and heavenly grace abounding. Run, nymphs, apace ; go meet her ; With flow'rs and garlands goodly greet her : All hail I Eliza fair, the country's Goddess ; Long may'st thou live, the shepherd's Queen and Mistress. Thyrsis, O let soft pity move thee ; Thy Cloris, well thou know'st, too well doth love thee.
Unkind I why dost thou fly me? I faint, alas! Cry then for grief, since hope is now bereft thee. Up hill, down dale, thou seest I have not left thee. Cannot these trickling tears of mine procure love? What shepherd ever yet killed nymph for pure love? Where art thou, wanton? And I so long have sought thee ; See where thy true love His heart to keep hath brought thee. Oh I why then dost thou hide thee? Still I follow thee But thou fliest from me.
Stay, unkind, and do no more deride me. Do you not know how Love first lost his seeing? Because with me once gazing On those fair eyes; where all powers have their being ; She with her beauty blazing, Which death might have revived. Him of his sight, me of my heart deprived. Say, dear, will you not have me? Then take the kiss you gave me. Elsewhere you would perhaps bestow it : And I should be as loath to owe it.
Or if you will not take the thing once given. Let me kiss youy and so we shall be even. Arise, get up, my dear ; make haste, begone thee : Lo! Hark I yon merry maidens squealing Spice-cakes and sops-in-wine are dealing. Alas I my dear, why weep ye? Fear not, dear love, the next day keep we. List, yon minstrels ; hark, how fine they firk it. Finely fet aloft.
There again as oft : Hey ho I brave holiday. All for Daphne's wedding day. During the ceremony, I warrant you there were no fainting- fits, real or sham ; no petty larceny faces, as though the parties were standing at the bar of the Old Bailey ; and yet, mayhap, more real reverence than may be witnessed at the altar of a certain fashionable church, not many hun- dred miles from Hanover Square.
There was a fair bride-cup of silver gilt " carried before her, wherein was a goodly branch of rose- " mary gilded very fair, and hung about with silken ribands " of all colours. Musicians came next ; then a group of " maidens, some bearing great bride-cakes, others garlands " of wheat finely gilded, and thus they passed into the church. DeUmiy Out of the bride-cup it was customary for all the persons present, together with the new-married couple, to drink in the church.
This custom is referred to in " The Taming " of the Shrew," when Petruchio ". The following ludicrous account of a Solemn Bridale, which was acted as a show before Queen Elizabeth, is ex- tracted from Laneham's letter to his good friend Master Humfrey Martin, Mercer in London, touching the Festi- vities at Kenilworth, Then the Bridegroom foremost, in his tawney " worsted jacket for his friends were fain that he should " be a Bridegroom before the Queen, and a fair strawn " hat with a capital crown, steeplewise on his head.
After "these comes a freckle-faced redheaded lubber, whose " office was to bear the bride-cup all seemly besilvered and " parcel partly gilt, adorned with a beautiful bunch of "broom gaily begilded for memory. This gentle cup- " bearer yet had his freckled phizonemy somewhat unhap- " pily infested as he went, by the busy flies that flocked " about the bride cup for the sweetness of the sucket that " it savoured of; but he like a tall fellow, withstood them " stoutly, beat them away, killed them by scores, stood to " his charge, and marched on in good order.
Then fol- " lowed the worshipful bride, led after the country man- " ner between two ancient parishioners, honest townsmen; " a thirty-year-old, of colour brown bay, not very beautiful " indeed, but ugly, foul, and ill favoured ; yet marvellous " fain of the office, because she heard say she should dance " before the Queen, in which feat she thought she would " foot it as finely as the best.
No dedication. It con- tains twenty Madrigals. A later edition printed in has two in addition. April is in my mistress' face, And July in her eyes hath place : Within her bosom is September, But in her heart a cold December. Un- less, therefore, we suppose one to be a plagiarism, the pro- bability is that they are translations from the same foreign original. Greene's stanza runs thus : " Fair is my love, for April's in her face, " And lordly July in her eyes hath place ; " Her lovely breast September claims his part, " But cold December dwells within her heart.
In dew of roses steeping Her lovely cheeks, Lycoris sat a weeping. Ah Dorus false I thou hast my heart bereft me. And now imkind hast left me. Hear me, alas I cannot my beauty move thee? Pity me then, because I love thee. Ah me I thou scom'st, the more I pray thee ; And this thou doest all to slay me : Kill me then, cruel ; kill, and vaunt thee, But my dreary ghost shall haunt thee.
In England's Helicon, a. The fifth and sixth lines bring to mind a similar appeal in Bums's beautiful Ballad of Lord Gregory : " An exile from her father s ha' " And all for love of thee : " At least some pity on me shaw, " If love it may na be. Clorinda false, adieu I thy love torments me : Let Thirsis have thy heart, since he contents thee. Oh grief and bitter anguish! For thee unkind I languish. I fain, alas I would hide it ; But oh I who can abide it? And sweetly sweetly fell a dying.
This tale is the converse of the preceding, with this dif- ference only, that the faithful shepherd does not, like Ly- coris, resolve to continue his attentions from the land of spirits. It is likewise in England's Helicon, without the author's name, and is entitled " Philistus' Farewell to false " Clorinda. Till my heart grief-brimfilled, Out, alas I shall be distilled. Wretched doggrel! Come, lovers, follow me and leave this weeping. See where the little god lies sweetly sleeping : Soft, then, for fear we wake him.
And if he come upon us, Out, well away I then are we woe begone us. Hence, follow me ; away, dispatch us — And that apace, for fear he catch us. This is not unlike one of Bennetts Madrigals, " Come, " Shepherds, follow me," in which a similar caution is given to beware of awakening the sleeping god of love. I will no more come to thee. And all my rings, my pins, and gloves deuiest. O say, alas I what moves thee To grieve him so that loves thee? The exclamation Ty hy or Te hee, occurs frequently in Scotch Ballads.
It is still in use in that country, and is generally indicative of derision. To whom but thee, my bonny love? The gentle Nymph replied.
Anthology of Italian Song of the 17th and 18th Centuries for Voice and Piano, Book 2
Sweetly come kiss me then, quoth he, and show it. Hark, jolly shepherds, hark yon lusty ringing ; How cheerfully the bells dance, whilst the lads are springing; Go then, why sit we here delaying, And all yon merry lads and lasses playing? How gaily Flora leads it, And o'er the meadow treads it : The woods and groves they ring loudly resounding With echo sweet rebounding. Printed in England's Helicon, a. Say, gentle nymphs, that tread these mountains, Whilst sweetly you sit playing, Saw you my Daphne straying Along your crystal fountains?
If that you chance to meet her, Kiss her and kindly greet her : Then these sweet garlands take her. And say from me, I never will forsake her. Ho I who comes there with bagpiping and drumming? O, 't is, I see, the Morris dance a coming. No traces of the Morris dance, or Morisco as it was called, can be found in England prior to the reign of Henry the Seventh. As the name implies, it originated with the Moors, and probably reached us indirectly through the medium of Spain and France. Hawkins, within the memory of persons living when he wrote his History of Music about sixty years ago , a saraband danced by a Moor constantly formed part of the entertainment of a puppet-show, and was performed with castanets.
The Morris was most frequently joined to processions and pageants, especially to those appropriated for the cele- bration of the May games : on these occasions the hobby- horse or a dragon, together with Robin Hood, Maid Marian, and other characters supposed to have been the compa- nions of that famous outlaw, made a part of the dance. The hobby-horse was a figure with the head and tail of a horse, having a wooden frame for the body attached to the person of him who was to play the character, with trappings reaching to the ground.
Thus equipped he pranced about imitating the curvetings and motions of the aforesaid quadruped. Then " every one of these his men he investeth with his liveries " of green, yellow, or some other light wanton colour ; and "as though they were not gawdy enough, they bedeck ," themselves with scarfs, ribbons and laces, hanged all over " with gold rings, precious stones and other jewels ; this " done they tie about either leg twenty or forty bells, with " rich handkerchiefs in their hands, or sometimes laid across " over their shoulders and necks, borrowed for the most " part of their pretty Mopsies and loving Bessies for bussing " them in the dark.
Then marcheth this heathen company " towards the churchyard, their pipers playing, their drum- " mers thundering, their stumps dancing, their bells jingling, " their handkerchiefs fluttering about their heads like mad- " men ; their hobby-horses and other monsters skirmishing amongst the throng; and in this sort they go to the church, though the minister be at prayer or preaching, " dancing and swinging their handkerchiefs over their heads " in the church, like devils incarnate ; with such a con- " fused noise that no man can hear his own voice : then " the foolish people, they look, they stare ; they laugh, they E 5 82 THOMAS MORLEY.
Gastoldi's Balletti furnish a considerable number of the originab, and from them the English version is principally translated or paraphrased! Such was old Orpheus cunning. That senseless things drew near him ; And herds of beasts to hear him. The stock, the stone, the ox, the ass came running. Dainty fine sweet Nymph delightful, While the sun aloft is mounting, Sit we here our loves recounting : With sugred gloses.
Among these roses. Fa la la. Why, alas I are you so spiteful, Dainty Nymph, but oh I too cruel. Wilt thou kill thy dearest jewel? Kill then and bless me. But first come kiss me. Gloses are flattering speeches.
Milton uses the verb, "Thus gJozed the tempter. Fa la. The Shepherds and the Nymphs them round inclosed had, Wondering with what facility. About they tum'd them in such strange agility : And still when they unloosed had. With words full of delight they gently kissed them. And thus sweetly to sing they never missed them. Now is the month of Maying, When merry lads are playing Each with his bonny lass, Upon the greeny grass.
The spring clad all in gladness, Doth laugh at winter's sadness ; And to the bagpipe's sound. The Nymphs tread out their ground. Say, dainty Nymphs, and speak. Shall we play Barley-break? The English are in the habit of considering the bagpipe as an instrument almost peculiar to Scotland ; it was how- ever in constant use at all country jollifications in merry England two hundred and fifty years ago, and I question if CoUinet's quadrille band ever put half as much " light " and mettle into the heels" of the dancers.
While love doth grant it ; Not long youth lasteth. And old age hasteth ; Now is best leisure To take our pleasure. All things invite us. Now to delight us ; Hence care, be packing, No mirth be lacking : Let 's spare no treasure. To live in pleasure. Singing alone, sat my sweet Amarillis, The Satyrs danced all with joy surprised ; Was never yet such dainty sport devised. Come, love, again, sang she, to thy beloved ; Alas I what fear'st thou? Yes, thou art mine, and I am thine for ever.
What saith my dainty darling, Shall I now your love obtain? Long time I sued for grace. And grace you granted me ; When time should serve, and place ; Can any fitter be? Thus saith my Galatea, Love long hath been deluded ; When shall it be concluded? The young Nymphs all are wedded, Ah, then, why do I tarry? Oh, let me die or marry! Galatea seems much afraid of being condemned to lead apes in a certain place unmentionable to polite ears, and reminds me of the lass in some old ditty, I forget where who exclaims, " Mother, I will have a husband, " And I will have him out of hand : " Mother, I will sure have one, " In spite of her that will have none.
Here met together. Under the weather. Hand in hand uniting, the lovely god we greet Lirum lirum. Lo t triumphing brave comes he All in pomp and majesty, Monarch of the world and King. Lirum lirum. Let whoso list him, Dare to resist him. We our voice uniting, of his high acts will sing. We have an example above of the correct accentuation of the word triumphing. I sit and cry me ; And call for help, alas I but none comes nigh me. O cast, cast water on, alas I and drench me. So also in No. Why weeps, alas I my lady love, and mistress? Sweet-heart, fear not ; what tho' a-while I leave thee ; My life may fail, but I will not deceive thee.
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For her sake, " then vouchsafe, gentle Ladie, to entertain them, having " no other thing to commend them to you for, but this, " that they are virgins, never having yet been once out at " doors, nor seen the fashions of the world abroad. The words of the other twelve are for the most part wretched stuffs, probably translated by Morley from the Italian. Five out of the number I find amongst the Madrigals of Felice Anerio, a first-rate Italian Composer, and here I must note that Morley has borrowed so exactly a few bars at the com- mencement of each of them, as in my opinion to take from himself the whole merit of being the original composer.
In short such an impudent plagiarism I have seldom wit- nessed. I shall content myself with the two following specimens. Italian Version from Anerio' s Madrigals, " Gitene, Canzonette, al mio bel sole ; " E con soavi e afiettuosi accenti, " Pregatelo ch' ascolti i miei lamenti ; " E di corona di suoi raggi supemi, " Vi cinga il crin, e 1 vostro honor etemi. Our Bonny-boots could toot it, yea and foot it ; Say, lusty lads, who now shall bonny-boot it?
He now must lead the morris dance before us. Welly as you guess? Why, I guess with every one else that Bonny-boots was a nickname of some gallant high in favour with the lady Oriana Queen Eliza- beth , and if I understand the two foregoing Madrigals rightly, that he had recently died. If this inference be granted, the conjecture that the Earl of Essex was the indi- vidual, falb at once to the ground, for he was not be- headed till , and the title page of Morley's work bears date It has frequently struck me with reference to the line, " Say, lusty lads, who now shall bonny-boot it?
Hawkins's notion that this personage might have been one Mr. Hale, a gentleman of the Chapel Royal, who sang before the Queen at a solemn tilt in , it is too absurd to be for a moment entertained. My own opi- nion is that the real Simon Pure is likely to remain for ever undiscovered ; and so he may for me I Before quitting this subject, I will venture to throw out a random suggestion for a derivation of the word Bonny- boots, In Spenser's Shepherds Calendar is the following stanza: " I saw the bouncing bellibone, " Hey ho I bonnibel!
May not the words bon et beau have been corrupted into Bonny-boots, as a term for a handsome fellow? This idea may seem too far-fetched, but still it is worth noticing. Laura in Hell was caught, Then O how Dorus laught! And said, good mistress, sith you Will needs thither, have with you. The most minute description is in The Arcadia of Sir P. Sidney, Book I. Sidney's description, which is rather confused ; the couple pursued having, as stated in the above lines, loosed their hands in order to provide for their individual safety, endeavoured to make for the opposite couple, the lady to the gentleman, and the gentleman to the lady.
If either were caught in the interim, he or she and the individual of the other couple who ought to have rendered assistance, were con- demned to Hell in the next Barley-break. There are many varieties and modifications of the game in different parts of the country.
Anthology of Italian Song of the 17th and 18th Centuries for Voice and Piano, Book 2
In Scotland it is still called " Barla-bracks about the stacks," and played by young people in a corn-yard. A stack is fixed upon as the Duh, or goal, and one person is a2 pointed to catch the rest of the company, who run out therefrom. He does not leave it till they are all out of sight ; then he sets off to catch them. Any one who is taken cannot run again with his former associates being accounted a prisoner , but is obliged to assist his captor in pursuing the rest When all are taken the game is finished ; and he who is firat taken is bound to act as catcher in the next game.
The writer of the Aamalia Dubrensm, a. Love took his bow and arrow. Perhaps his arrow glanced. Away the wag him hied, And then his mother cried : Oh I how am I appayed I My bird is dead ; and now my boy is strayed! I do not quite understand the meaning of this practical joke of Mr.
Anthology of Italian song of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries
The music for light- ness and elegance is also pre-eminent XCII. My Nymph the dear, and her my dear I follow : Trussed is her hair in gold than gold more yellow. Say, did you see her ; the divinest creature That ever was of feature? O Love, the world's sweet maker, Change her mood, and more human-minded make her. I follow, lo I the footing still of my lovely cruel : Proud of herself, that she is beauty's jewel : And fast away she flieth, love's sweet delight deriding, In woods and groves sweet, sweet nature's treasure hiding. Yet cease I not pursuing ; but since I thus have sought her.
Will run me out of breath, till I have caught her. This is one of Morley's master-pieces. Stay, heart, run not so fast from him that loves thee. To her that deadly hates thee. Her sharp disdain reproves thee. And worse than ill still rates thee. Then let her go, and spare not ; Hold thou thyself contented and I care not.
Up, gentle swains, we '11 have a round this morrow. My love is gone, and with her go my sorrow. O vile wretch! Then straight away I haste me, And after her will run while life shall last me. Ah I death his force now trieth ; Flora, farewell, for, lo I thy shepherd dieth. A good picture of the conflicting passions in a lover's breast. One minute he is all proud disdain ; — let her go, I care not f the next sees him at his mistress's feet, vowing to expire by reason of her cruelty. The eighth line reminds me of Lockit's song in the Beg- gar's Opera : " I hang your husband, child, 't is true, " But with him hang your care.
At London, printed by Thomas " Este, The poetry probably by Morley himself, is so wretched, that I only insert a few that are in use at the Madrigal Society. Lo I Ladies, where my love comes. All clad in green, and youthfully he shows it. Heart's grief none feels, but she that soundly knows it.
My heart will break asunder. And daunt my senses more than bolts of thunder ; Rest sweetly in his keeping.
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Which causeth me to wake, when he lies sleeping. Music by Rugiero Giavanelliy Supposing by her flying Some time to breed my dying. Slay me, slay me ; fly me, fly me : Yet your flight shall not destroy me. Ferrettiy Very vile is that vice, ever detested ; Each lover's suit bewraying. Thrice happy men do say, is that sweet wooing, Where love may still be noted swift in doing. Hark and give ear, you lovers so besotted ; No life, no breath ; and yet no death allotted. She of that flower bereft me ; And stealing fled, and comfortless she left me. That steal the heart, and give the life reviving!
Music hy Giulio Belli. Exceedingly incomprehensible! So we find that King " Edward the Third happening to fall in love with a noble " lady of his kingdom, and desiring both to honour her, " and please himself with her presence, convited all noble " ladies to behold a Triumph at London to be there per- " formed by the nobles and gentlemen of his court.
Segary Of such kind is " II Trionfo di Dori," a collection of Ma- drigals by different authors in praise of some Italian dame, published before the year ; and from which in all probability, as Mr. Hawes justly observes, the idea of a similar collection in this country was taken. That by Oriana is meant Queen Elizabeth there can be no doubt ; but the idle tale related by Sir John Hawkins, that the work in question was undertaken with a view to alleviate her grief for the death of the Earl of Essex, and that prizes were given by the Earl of Nottingham for the best com- position for that purpose, I take to be mere conjecture of the worthy Knight himself.
He gives no authority, nor do I believe that anything is known of the origin of the work beyond what appears in the title-page and dedication above given, which throw no light whatever upon the sub- ject. Hawkins, that there must be some secret piece of history in the case. How D'Espes, the Spanish Ambassador, could libel her under the double title of Amadis Oriana I know not ; but so it was, according to Camden anno The title Oriana was also continued to her successor or I should rather say her successor's wife ; for the following lines were sung at an entertainment given to James and his consort Anne at Althorp, : " Long live Oriana, " To exceed as she succeeds our late Diana.
That some such conceit about the Lady Oriana was current at least four years before the publica- tion of The Triumphs, is also evident from this circum- stance, viz. I have recently met with one hitherto unknown to me, com- posed by Thomas Vautor B. The poetry, as stated before, is quite in the Italian vein, but for the most part expressed in such wretched doggrel rhymes, as would disgrace the veriest tyro in Grub-street.
The whole of them being already printed in Mr.
I shall content myself with eight by way of specimens. Excelling you so far. Then Phoebus wiped his eyes. And Zeph'rus clear'd the skies. In sweet accented cries Then sang the nymphs and shepherds of Diana, Long live fair Oriana. Music hy Mich, Este. Ill CI. AH creatures now are merry-minded, The shepherds' daughters playing, The nymphs are fa-la-la-ing ; Yon bugle was well-winded.
At Oriana's presence each thing smileth, The flowers themselves discover. Birds over her do hover, Music the time beguileth. See where she comes, with flow'ry garlands crowned ; Queen of all Queens renowned : Then sang the nymphs and shepherds of Diana, Long live fair Oriana. JBenneL CU. Skipped and danced round about. Flora forsook her painted bowers, And made a coronet of flowers ; Then sang the nymphs of chaste Diana, Long live fair Oriana. Thus Bonny-boots the birth day celebrated Of her his Lady dearest ; Fair Orian, which to his heart was nearest.
The nymphs and shepherds feasted With clouted cream were, and to sing requested. Lo I here the fair, created Quoth he the world's chief goddess. Then sang the nymphs and shepherds of Diana, Long live fair Oriana. Music by John Holmes. If my reasoning with regard to Bonny-boots be correct these lines must have been written before the year , vide No. And on her grace a thousand graces tended. And thus sang they, fair Queen of peace and plenty ; The fairest Queen of twenty. Then with an olive wreath, for peace renowned, Her virgin head they crowned.
Which ceremony ended, Unto her grace the thousand graces bended. Music by John WUbye. This is the fair whose head a crown deserveth. Which heaven for her reserveth : Leave, shepherds, your lambs keeping. Upon the barren mountain ; And, nymphs, attend on her, and leave your bowers.
For she the shepherds' life maintains and yours. Music by T, MorUy and Giov. Croce from 77 Trionfo di Doriy by Nich. Yonge, in his 2nd Book of Musica Transalpina, published a. Come, blessed bird! Help our declining quire now to embellish ; For Bonny-boots that so aloft could fetch it, Ah I he is dead, and none of us can reach it. Then tune to us, sweet bird, thy shrill recorder, And I, Elpin and Dorus For fault of better will serve in the chorus. Begin ; and we will follow thee in order. Then sang the wood-bom minstrel of Diana, Long live fair Oriana. When Oriana walked to take the air, The world did strive to entertain the fair.
By Flora fair the sweetest flowers were strown Along the way for her to tread upon ; The trees did blossom, silver rivers ran. Then sang the n3rmphs and shepherds of Diana, Long live fair Oriana. Music by Tkos, Baieson. This is the best poetry in the set. Being sent in too late, it did not appear in the original work, but was printed in ? For originality of ideas, and ingenuity of construction in part writing, I allude more especially to his Ballets, Weelkes in my opinion leaves all other composers of his time far behind.
Weelkes wisheth all joy, " health, and felicity. Thus leaving my labours to your " Worship's good liking, and persuading myself of your " continual countenance, I humbly take my leave. Now ev'ry tree renews its summer's green. Why is your heart in winter's garments clad? Your beauty says, my love is summer's Queen ; But your cold love like winter makes me sad.
Then either spring with buds of love again, Or else congeal my thoughts with your disdain. Young Cupid hath proclaim'd a bloody war, And vows revenge on all the maiden crew : Oh I yield, fair Cloris, lest in the foul jar Thine after penance makes thy folly rue. Ah me I my wonted joys forsake me, And deep despair doth overtake me ; I whilome sung, but now I weep : Thus sorrows run, when joys do creep. I wish to live, and yet I die ; For love hath wrought my misery. Our country swains in the morris dance Thus woo and win their brides ; Will for our town, for KcUe the next prance.
The Hobby-horse at pleasure frolic rides. Then all at once for owr town cries, Pipe on, for we will have the prize. See the preceding Madrigal. Those sweet delightful lillies Which nature gave my Phillis, Ah me! Retire, my thoughts, unto your rest again ; Your proflPer'd service may incur disdain : The dice are cast, and if the gamesters please, I '11 take my chance, and rest myself at ease. All at once well met, fair ladies. Sing we now our love repaid is. Sweethearts do not forsake us. Till night to sleep betake us. Citherea shall requite you With delight, lest sorrow fright you ; Then help, ye dainty ladies.
To sing, our love repaid is. To shorten winter s sadness, See where the Nymphs with gladness Disguised all are coming, Right wantonly a mumming. The custom is still kept up in many parts of the country. Those engaged in the frolic are in England called Mum- mers, in Scotland Guisarts. In Henry the Eighth's reign, in consequence of many abuses, an ordinance was published, that no persons should appear abroad like mummers, cover- ing their faces with vizors, and in disguised apparel, under pain of three months imprisonment.
Whilst youthful sports are lasting, To feasting turn our fasting ; With revels and with wassails. Make grief and care our vassals. For youth it well beseemeth. That pleasure he esteemeth : And sullen age is hated, That mirth would have abated. On the plains, Fairy trains Were a treading measures : Satyrs play'd, Fairies stayed At the stops set leisures.
Nymphs begin To come in Quickly thick and threefold ; Now they dance, Now they prance, Present there to behold. To tread a measure was the common phrase' for dancing. Thus Shakspeare in Love's Labour 's Lost, act v. Sweetheart arise, why do you sleep, When lovers wanton sports do keep?
The sun doth shine, the birds do sing. And May delight and joy doth bring : Then oin we hands, and dance till night 'T is pity love should want his right. Give me my heart, and I will go, Or else forsake your wonted no. No, no, no. But since my dear doth doubt me. With no I mean to float thee. No, no, na Yet there is hope we shall agree. For doable no importeth ifetu No, no, na If that be so, my dearest. With no, noy noy my heart thou cheerest. Say, dainty dames, shall we go play ; And ran among the flowers gay.
About the Tallies and high hills. Which Flora with her glory fills? The gentle heart will soon be won. To dance and sport till day be done. Phillis, go take thy pleasure— My heart thou now hast broken I Go, frolic there sans measure ; These wounds thy looks laid open. In pride of May The fields are gay ; The birds do sweetly sing : So nature would That all things should With joy begin the spring. Then, Lady dear, Do you appear In beauty like the spring : I well dare say The birds that day More cheerfully will sing.
An' it were not for the "sweet and merry month of May" what would become of lovers and poets? Well might our Royal Scot exclaim, " Worship, all ye that lovers bin, this May, " For of your bliss the kalends are begun ; " And sing with us, away, winter, away! In short, page after page might be filled with quotations in its praise, but I question if many would present a prettier or more natural picture than the above Madrigal.
Pity it is, that " cold December " should ever cause its brightness to fade! Sing we at pleasure, Content is our treasure ; Sweet love shall keep the ground, While we his praises sound. All shepherds in a ring ShaU dancing ever sing. So also in one of Morley's Ballets, No. Lodge, Sing shepherds after me, Our hearts do never disagree : No war can spoil us of our store. Our wealth is ease, we wish no more. And what better thing canst thou have, I prythee, good shepherd? Welcome sweet pleasure. This mirth delights me When sorrow frights me.
Then sing we all Fa la la la la. Grief is disdainful. Then wait on pleasure, And lose no leisure. Heart's ease it lendeth, And comfort sendeth. We shepherds sing, we pipe, we play. With pretty sport we pass the day : We care for no gold. But with our fold We dance And prance As pleasure would. Come clap thy hands, thou shepherd swain, Phillis doth love thee once again : If thou agree, then sing with me, Phillis my choice of choice shall be.
Brava I fair Phillis. Farewell my joy. Farewell my love and pleasure ; To sport and toy We have no longer leisure. Farewell, adieu I Until our next consorting. Sweet love, be true ; And thus we end our sporting. A pretty adieu I In the hope that thou wilt be true, quoth the shepherd, I will rest happy until we meet again. Now is my Cloris fresh as May, All clad in green and flowers gay. Oh I might I think August were near. That harvest joy might soon appear. Yet will I hope, though she be May, August will come another day.
His next work is " Madrigals of five and six parts, ten " in number apt for the viols and voices, made and newly " published by Thomas Weelkes of the College at Win- " Chester, Organist. At London, printed by Thos. Este, " But in music the base part is no " disgrace to the best ears' attendancy. Weelkes is here rather severe upon certain of his brother musicians who seem to have been in the habit of affecting a knowledge of other sciences besides their own.
He very modestly disclaims all such learning on the part of himself. Cold winter's ice is fled and gone. And summer brags on ev'ry tree. The Redbreast peeps amidst the throng Of woodborn birds that wanton be. Each one forgets what they have been, And so doth Phillis, Summer's Queen. What would not a Cockney sonnetteer give to be able to write anything like the first four lines of this ditty!
How far superior is such a sketch to all the trash about Mermaids and grottoes in the deep, deep sea, or about " Two little birds that whistled thirds " Behind my father's house. Were I to make further extracts from the glee firom which this quotation is given, I feel confident I should not be believed. Such a specimen I never witnessed from the press of the Seven Dials. Now let us make a merry greeting, And thank young Cupid for our meeting. My heart is full of joy and pleasure. Since thou art here, my only treasure. Now will we dance and sport and play. And sing a merry roundelay. Take here my heart, I give it thee for ever I No better pledge can love to love deliver.
Fear not, my dear, it will not fly away ; For hope and love conmiand my heart to stay : But if thou doubt desire will make it range. Love but my heart, my heart will never change. Mirth only help can bring me. Hence, Care, thou art too cruel I Come, Music, sick man's jewel.
His force had well nigh slain me. But thou must now sustain me. Why are you, ladies, staying. And your lords gone a Maying? Run, run apace and meet them. Hark, hark, I hear some dancing, And a nimble Morris prancing. The bagpipe and the Morris-bells That they are not far hence, us tells. Come let us all go thither, And dance like friends together.
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