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Music Edition: Headnotes

Primary sources which are described in the List of Sources section are indicated here by double underlining.

Plays (P)

1. Cynthia’s Revels (1600)

P.1.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Slow, slow, fresh fount, keep time with my salt tears

The only known setting of Echo’s song of mourning (Q, 1.2.65‒75) is the three-part canzonet printed by the obscure English composer Henry Youll, in his Canzonets to Three Voices (1608). The sophistication of Jonson’s lyric, in which Austern (1992, 57) has noted ‘the classical influence of quantitative verse’, is not reflected in Youll’s setting. Notwithstanding the generally amateurish style of composition, the text setting is mostly competent, if uninspired and lacking any particular invention. It is arguably the most accomplished piece in Youll’s collection. The setting is typically minor key, with a slow, plaintive melody, and with occasional touches of word-painting (note the somewhat clichéd descending melodic ideas at words like ‘drop’ etc.; see also Evans, 1929, 49‒50). The predominant vowel sounds in Jonson’s text are ideal for representing grief.
The setting is unlikely to be associated with a performance of the play. Youll has no known connections with the Children of the Chapel, or with the theatre in general. Moreover, a three-voice setting is not indicated by the text or dramatic context. As so often happens with unique settings, attempts have been made by scholars to situate Youll’s setting in original performances of the play. It was suggested by Edwin Lindsey (1929, 88) that Echo sang the soprano part, accompanied by two hidden singers; although not impossible, this seems highly unlikely. Mary Chan (1980, 54) has suggested that the setting was adapted from a solo song with instrumental accompaniment (such as the lute), arguing that the imitative points of the alto and tenor parts are similar to those found in instrumental accompaniments to solo songs. This too seems unlikely as Youll makes it clear from his preface that the settings in the collection were newly-composed. The largely imitative style of the lower voices seems unlikely to have been adapted from a typical bass line. It is worth noting that similar examples are found composed by Thomas Morley, upon whose music Youll modelled his collection. Indeed, one suspects that Youll interpreted the character of Echo through the imitation, which further suggests a later, detached setting. Echo (who actually sings in the play) could be seen initially as the top voice (Cantus) with the fugal-type imitation, which pervades the whole setting, being the quite literal echoes.

P.1.2/1‒2 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Oh, that joy so soon should waste!

As part of the entertainments devised by the Nymphs and courtiers in Cynthia’s Revels, Hedon’s mistress, Philautia (nicknamed ‘Honour’) calls some music: accordingly, Hedon sings ‘Oh, that joy so soon should waste!’ (Q, 4.3.161‒72), which we are told is titled ‘The Kiss’. Jonson’s text supplies two important details. When asked for his verdict on the song Amorphus replies ‘A pretty air! In general, I like it well. But, in particular, your long “die” note did arride me most, but i>t was somewhat too long’ (Q, 4.3.175‒6). The ‘die note’ refers to the note to which the word ‘die’ in the last line is set: a rare technical comment from Jonson. He also tells us that both songs were accompanied on the fashionable ‘Lyra’, which Jonson describes as ‘an instrument that alone is able to infuse soul in the most melancholic and dull disposed creature upon earth’ (Q, 4.3.156‒7). ‘Lyra’ refers to the ‘lyra-viol’. The term can refer to a specific instrument (a viol slightly smaller than the consort bass), but it is perhaps best understood as a general characterisation of a repertoire and associated style of playing. A largely English phenomenon, the lyra-viol repertoire is large and varied and not particularly well understood. First developed in the late sixteenth century, it mounted a serious challenge to the lute as the amateur instrument of choice in the first decade of seventeenth century, and continued to be popular throughout much of the century. Like the lute, the music is generally notated in French tablature, a form of music notation different to many other instruments. Tablature indicates the finger positions on the fretboard of instruments such as the viol or lute; it is particularly useful for beginners as it negates the need for having to cope with the complexities of staff notation (tablature notation is, for example, still widely used by guitarists). Specifically, tablature indicates the point at which each string is to be stopped by the performer’s left hand in the form of letters (‘a’ indicates an open string, ‘b’ a string stopped at the first fret etc.) on a six-line grid representing the six strings of the viol. The approximate duration of the note is shown by rhythm signs above the music. Tablature was an important aspect of the lyra-viol as it enabled use of different tunings (the set intervals to which the six strings are tuned): almost 60 are known. Tablature does not give any information as to the names of the notes, nor their actual duration. Thus, a good deal of the information was inherent in the interpretation of performers. Solo and ensemble pieces comprise much of the lyra-viol repertoire, but there are a number of song accompaniments. The music is often characterized by chordal playing as well as pseudo-contrapuntal textures (similar to the lute repertoire). The combination of solo and chordal possibilities made the lyra-viol an ideal instrument for self-accompaniment.

Two unrelated settings of Hedon’s song are known: both for solo voice and unfigured bass. There is an early unattributed setting in Oxford, Christ Church, Mus. 439 (P.1.2/1 (Full score   , MIDI   )), which is likely to represent some form of the song as it was sung in the original play. Andrew Sabol (1960) attributed it to Nathaniel Giles, Master of the Children of the Chapel Royal 1597‒1634, though the attribution is purely circumstantial. The accompaniment in Mus. 439 is a bass line in staff notation, whereas lyra-viol music is generally notated in French tablature and is often chordal in texture. It is unclear whether the singer would have accompanied himself by improvising simple chords or whether the single-line bass was played. Neither approach would necessarily imply that this is not some version of the original setting. The Mus. 439 setting does includes a four-bar held note on the word ‘die’ in the final stanza, as described by Amorphus; it could have been exaggerated for more comic effect in performance. The repetitions and endless stream of musical devices (imitation, syncopations, rests, word-painting) are monotonous. The composer’s intention seems to have been a deliberate satire of Hedon’s pretensions, achieved through excessive word-repetitions and a convoluted vocal line: it is one of the earliest examples of such techniques on the English stage. The song could have been composed independently from the original performances, but the engagement with the dramatic context strongly suggests otherwise (cf. P.1.2/2 (Full score   , MIDI   )), and it is clear that a song with similar effects was called for by Jonson. As Linda Austern has noted (1992, 260), in its treatment of the varying line lengths the setting is anticipates the declamatory style popular later in the century, although the contrapuntal style of accompanying bass line is more typical of the sixteenth century. A significant textual variant is found in the opening line, which slightly rearranges the printed version but retains the same number of beats (there are also a number of minor variants throughout).

The second setting (P.1.2/2 (Full score   , MIDI   )) is by Henry Lawes (1596‒1662) and found in his autograph songbook (London, British Library, Add. MS 53723). It appears to have been composed in the mid to late 1620s. Chan (1980, 58 n.25) suggests that it may have been written for a revival of the play, although the only recorded one took place in 1601. The setting is much more likely to be an isolated work, apparently composed when Lawes was a young man. Musically the Lawes setting is much better than the earlier setting, and certainly benefits from its brevity in comparison. The text is unencumbered by clichéd musico-rhetorical devices, and the setting requires some virtuosity without allowing it to overwhelm. For example, Lawes restricts sequential melodic repetition to bars 8‒10 whereas they are overused in P.1.2/1 (Full score   , MIDI   ). Both settings use rests to cope with the irregular line lengths, but Lawes uses the rests to greater effect by restricting them to the first half of the poem, building gradually to the essence of the verse beginning on the line ‘The dew that lies on roses’. The long note on ‘die’ is not present in Lawes’s setting, further emphasising its separation from the dramatic context.

2. Poetaster (1601)

P.2.1/1‒2 (Full score   , MIDI   )   If I freely may discover

The song satirizing the supposedly reluctant musician: the performer who refuses to play when asked, but once started does not know when to stop. Hermogenes is introduced as a musician, but he repeatedly refuses to sing. Growing jealous of the interest in Hermogenes receives, Crispinus asks to be persuaded to perform. Suitably entreated, he sings ‘If I freely may discover’, a song composed by Hermogenes. Crispinus sings the first verse, and the reluctant Hermogenes sings the second only after becoming jealous of the praise bestowed on his companion.

   There are two, unrelated, settings; in both the two stanzas are given but only the first is underlaid. A contemporary setting (P.2.1/1) is found in ‘Giles Earle’s Book’ (London, British Library, Add. MS 24665), which dates from c. 1615. Next to ‘If I freely may discover’ is a setting of ‘The dark is my delight’ from Marston’s The Dutch Courtesan (1603‒4). The Dutch Courtesan and Cynthia’s Revels were both written for the same company of child actors, the Children of the Chapel or the Children of the Queen’s Revels. David Fuller (1977) has convincingly suggested that Giles Earle may have acquired a manuscript of music from the company when it disbanded, c. 1616. Indeed, the way in which the vocal melody enters halfway through the fourth bar is often indicative of a consort song setting, commonly associated with the children’s companies. The term ‘consort song’ describes a song (typically for a high voice) accompanied by a consort, or ensemble, of instruments, usually viols; they are usually in five parts. The setting is also notable for its use of simple devices of word-painting. The change to a dance-like triple time depicts the mistress ‘Light and humorous in her toying’; the melody rises at ‘building hopes’ and falls at ‘destroying’, and pauses to emphasize the word ‘Long’. The setting treats Jonson’s text using subtle rhythmic variety; the syllabic accentuation is varied through placement on strong beats (usually long notes) and syncopation. There is nothing to indicate that the song was accompanied in the play, although later Chloe’s song ‘Love is blind, and a wanton’ appears to have been accompanied by the viol discovered by Crispinus.

The second setting is by Henry Lawes (1596‒1662), and survives in two slightly different versions. The first, P.2.1/2(a) (Full score   , MIDI   ), is taken from Lawes’s autograph songbook (London, British Library, Add. MS 53723) and dates from the 1630s. The second version, P.2.1/2(b) (Full score   , MIDI   ), is found in John Gamble’s Commonplace Book (New York, New York Public Library, Drexel MS 4257) and was probably copied around the middle of the century. P.2.1/2(b) (Full score   , MIDI   ) is unattributed and does not include either triple-time section, and has different harmonies in several places. For example, it opens with a bar of tonic harmony, whereas P.2.1/2(a) (Full score   , MIDI   ) has a chord progression of V-I-(IV-)V. Both versions omit a (different) line of text from the second stanza. P.2.1/2(b) (Full score   , MIDI   ) is presumably either an early setting or a corrupt one that found its way to Gamble (who could also have reworked the setting). No revivals of the play are known. That aside, Lawes’s setting is typical of his play-song settings composed independently of stage performances; it pays close attention to the text but is divorced from the dramatic context.

Herford and Simpson (11.606) also cite another copy of the song in the New York Public Library: Drexel MS 4265; however, this appears to be an error, as the library has no records of a manuscript (currently or formerly) under this shelf number.

3. Eastward Ho! (1605)

P.3.1 (Full score   , MIDI   ) Sleep, wayward thoughts

Gertrude’s snatch from John Dowland’s song ‘Sleep, wayward thoughts’ is the first of several such references to popular and ballad tunes throughout the play, which are often used to highlight her distressed state of mind. Dowland’s song was first printed as a four-voice partsong in The First Book of Songs and Ayres (1597). Jonson (accurately) quotes the penultimate line from the first stanza (here editorially set):

‘Sleep, wayward thoughts’ is generally considered to be one of Dowland’s finest songs. The setting is charmingly simple; the words are set syllabically to a smooth, graceful, and eminently singable melody. The lute accompaniment in the 1597 print is mostly chordal, following the rhythm of the vocal melody. Typical of this genre, only the first stanza is underlain with the music; the subsequent stanzas are also intended to be sung to the same music (i.e. strophic form). Untypically, however, the music of ‘Sleep, wayward thoughts’ fits as well to the first stanza as it does to the rest. The song was popular and well-known. It survives in many manuscripts (most with the Cantus and untexted Bassus parts derived from the print or some closely related source), and appeared in printed collections as late as 1680. In addition to the reference in Eastward Ho!, ‘Sleep, wayward thoughts’ also received mention in the anonymous Every Woman in Her Humour (1609). The song was also disseminated as an instrumental piece until the late seventeenth century: see Greer, 2000, 199 for arrangements in other media.
Bibliography: Poulton, 1982; Greer, 2000. Selected Recording: Padmore & Kenny, 2008, Track 8.

P.3.2/1‒2 When Samson was a tall young man (Tune: The Spanish Pavan)

There are many references to ‘The Spanish Pavan’ in Elizabethan and Jacobean literature. Despite the name, the tune appears to be Italian; the earliest source is Fabritio Caroso’s Il Ballarino (Venice, 1581). As John Ward has noted, it was primarily a harmonic pattern derived from older folia (i.e. musical frameworks) to which ‘certain melody types came in time to be identified’, the best known of which is found in the first strain of John Bull’s setting (Ward, 1967, 75; this is given in Fig. 444 of C. Simpson, 1966; for the history of the tune, see also Poulton, 1961). It was widely known in England in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries and is found in several manuscript and printed sources, arranged for lute, cittern, and keyboard by composers including Bull, Alfonso Ferrabosco I, Anthony Holborne, and Francis Pilkington (see C. Simpson, 1966, 678‒81 for sources). Claude Simpson noted that tune first entered the ballad repertoire fitted to the verse ‘A most excellent and famous ditty of Sampson, Judge of Israel’ (beginning ‘When Samson was a tall young man’). The ballad was registered in 1586, though the earliest surviving editions do not date from before c. 1620. In ‘When Samson was a tall young man’ (and in other ballads to the tune) the stanza is in eight octosyllabic lines, except for lines 4 and 8, which have six and three syllables respectively. The play’s parody retains the first two lines of the ballad, and was undoubtedly sung to the tune of ‘The Spanish Pavan’. As demonstrated by the editorial underlay, setting the words to the printed tune requires some licence in terms of shortening and lengthening some notes to fit the poetic metre.
Bibliography: Chappell, 1855–9, 1; Poulton, 1961; Simpson, 1966; Ward, 1967. Selected Recording: Lindberg & O’Dette, 1984, Track 3 (Ferrabosco I’s setting for two lutes: the traditional tune is heard unornamented and then in a series of division variations).

P.3.3 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Mistress, since you so much desire

Gertrude’s second snatch is taken from Thomas Campion’s song ‘Mistress, since you so much desire’, printed in A Book of Ayres (1601). As with the earlier Dowland snatch (P.3.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )), the quotation is from the last lines of the first stanza (here editorially set):

The quoted snatch is treated sequentially in Campion’s setting: the five-note motif (consisting of stepwise descent followed by an ascending fifth) is heard four times, each a step higher. In the printed version, each sequence is punctuated by an imitative sequence in the lute accompaniment. The song was not disseminated widely in manuscript sources. The only appearance outside the print is in New York, New York Public Library, Drexel MS 4175, where it is listed in the contents but no longer present in the manuscript. Nevertheless, the play’s reference to it suggests that the tune acquired some degree of popularity in the years shortly after the publication of Ayres. A later variation on Campion’s text is found in his Fourth Booke of Ayres (1617); both texts are given in Lindley, 1986, 47‒8.
Bibliography: Lindley, 1986.

P.3.4/1‒2   His head as white as milk (Tune: The Merry Milkmaids)

Jonson uses Gertrude’s song ‘His head as white as milk’ to parody Ophelia’s mad-song ‘And will he not come again?’ from Hamlet (4.5.188‒97); both songs were presumably sung to the same tune. No contemporary settings of Ophelia’s fragmentary lyric have survived, but the text is traditionally adapted to a variant of the dance tune ‘The Merry Milkmaids’, of which there are several manuscript and printed sources (see C. Simpson, 1966; 490‒3). Ross Duffin (2004, 52‒3) has recently set the words of ‘And will he not come again’ to the tune of ‘Go from my window’; however, ‘The Merry Milkmaids’ is a better fit for the Eastward Ho! text.

P.3.5   Now, Oh, now, I needs must part

Quicksilver begins with a slightly corrupt rendition of Dowland’s famous song ‘Now, oh now, I needs must part’, first printed (alongside ‘Sleep, wayward thoughts’) in The First Book of Songs and Ayres (1597). The play’s variation of the first two lines is not found in any of the surviving music sources, of which there are several (here editorially set):

The remaining four lines (beginning ‘What a grief . . .’) are not from Dowland’s song and are not known elsewhere; they do not follow the metre or rhyme of Dowland’s original verse so would require some licence in adapting them to the tune:

‘Now, Oh, now, I needs must part’ was also disseminated in an instrumental version, ‘The Frog Galliard’, of which there are several manuscript and printed sources. Peter Holman (1999, 77) has noted that this was one of four Dowland pieces that passed into the Dutch repertory of popular songs, perhaps from the repertoires of travelling English theatre companies.

Bibliography: Poulton & Lam, 1974 (editions of lute versions); Poulton, 1982; Holman, 1999; Greer, 2000. Selected Recording: Padmore & Kenny, 2008, Track 15.

P.3.6 (Full score   , MIDI   )   O hone, hone, o no nera (Tune: Franklin is fled away)

Gertrude’s sung snatch ‘O hone, hone, o no nera, etc.’ (5.1.6) may be a reference to another popular ballad tune. The words ‘O hone’ (apparently derivative of the Irish word ochoin, which translates as ‘oh, alas!’, and which was also used in Bartholomew Fair, 5.4.276; see Eastward Ho, 5.1.6n.) are found as a refrain in the ballad ‘A mournful Caral: Or, An Elegy, Lamenting the Tragical ends of . . . Frankin [sic] and Cordelius’. The ballad of Franklin and Cordelius was sung to the tune ‘Franklin fled away’, and begins ‘Franklin my loyal friend, O hone, o hone’. However, sources of the ballad (and tune) all appear to be post-Restoration. Claude Simpson (1966, 232‒5) also noted that ‘Ohone’ is a common Irish and Scottish word of lamentation and occurs in certain refrains and tune titles that are not to be identified with ‘Franklin fled away’. There are several printed sources of the tune ‘Franklin is fled away’/‘O hone’, including John Playford’s Musicks Recreation on the Viol, Lyra-way (1669) and Apollo’s Banquet (1670; a collection of violin tunes). Five stanzas of the ballad were copied into New York, New York Public Library, Drexel MS 4257 (‘John Gamble’s Commonplace manuscript’) but no music entered. Although this tune may be too late to be associated with Eastward Ho!, it is included in the edition for ease of reference. The short refrains are likely to reflect the manner in which Gertrude’s brief snatch was sung.

P.3.7/1‒2 (Full score   , MIDI   )   In Cheapside famous for gold and plate (Tune: Labandala Shot)

The play tells us that Quicksilver’s parody of the ‘neck verses’ sung by criminals on their way to the gallows was sung ‘To the tune of “I wail in woe, I plunge in pain”’ (5.5.38), which is the first line of the ballad ‘Mannington’s Repentance’. The opening line of the original ballad is frequently quoted in Elizabethan and Jacobean drama. It was licensed on 7 November 1576 and refers to M. George Mannington, executed earlier that year. No copy of the broadside is extant, but it was reprinted in Clement Robinson’s A Handful of Pleasant Delights (1584). ‘Mannington’s Repentance’ was sung to the sixteenth-century dance tune ‘Labandala Shot’, of which there are several manuscript sources; it was particularly popular in solo lute arrangements (see C. Simpson, 1966, 418‒20). As demonstrated by the editorial underlay of the first verses, setting the words to the printed tune requires some licence in terms of shortening and lengthening some notes to fit the poetic metre.

4. Volpone (1606)

P.4.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Come, my Celia, let us prove

‘Come, my Celia, let us prove’ (3.7.165‒82), is sung by Volpone himself as part of his attempted seduction of Celia, the wife of one of his intended dupes. Jonson’s words were adapted from Catullus, and, as David Lindley has noted (2010), there seems to be a deliberate tension between the virtuous and erudite origins of the song text and the base intentions of the singer (particularly bearing in mind that once seduction fails Volpone attempt to rape Celia). The only known setting is by Alfonso Ferrabosco II and was included in his printed collection of Ayres (1609) (for voice, lute, and unfigured bass); the setting in London, British Library, Add. MS 15117 was derived from the print or some closely related source but omits the bass part.
Opinion differs as to whether the Ferrabosco setting was that sung in early performances of the play. In terms of style it is fairly indistinguishable from Ferrabosco’s declamatory masque songs. Mary Chan (1980) has argued that the setting was used in early performances of the play. More recently, Lindley (2010) suggests that the setting is rather long and complex, especially when compared with other stage songs, and that a less intrusive form of song is perhaps required for the dramatic context. Although the Ferrabosco setting does give the impression of an independently composed piece, it is nevertheless difficult to see how the setting could be made less complex, as it is primarily syllabic. Lindley may be referring to the lute part, which does increase the musical complexity of the song, but it is important to stress that this accompanying part could easily have been added by Ferrabosco at a later stage, specifically for the publication. The printed version may represent a more formal and polished version of the song, designed to fit the needs of the amateur musician (see Kenny, 2008 for a similar discussion of other pieces in Ayres). Volpone was Jonson’s first play since becoming a writer of court masques, during which time he collaborated on several occasions with Ferrabosco. The relationship was mutually respectful, and Jonson contributed a dedicatory poem to Ferrabosco’s Ayres. However, Ferrabosco is not known to have composed music for the theatre: this would be the sole example. The most likely explanation seems to be that Ferrabosco set the text removed from its dramatic context. The text did circulate independently as a poem, and was included in Jonson’s 1616 collection of poems, The Forest (no. 5), titled ‘Song to Celia’.

The song’s AABCC structure is a variation on the AABA form often found in popular tunes of the period: lines 165‒8 (bars 1‒13; A) and 169‒72 (bars 14‒26; A) are sung to the same music, lines 173‒8 (bars 27‒41; B) and 179‒82 (bars 42‒57; C) are used to introduce new music. Ferrabosco’s setting omits the final quatrain (lines 235‒9). The rhyme scheme of the quatrain suggests that it is intended to be a continuation of Volpone’s song: it could be sung to the same music as the first quatrain, as the following editorial setting demonstrates:

Some measure of the song’s strength as a composition can be gauged by its inclusion in Charles Burney’s A General History of Music (1776-98; ed. Mercer, 1935 2.282). Burney did, however, call into question Ferrabosco’s ‘genius’, concluding that his Ayres ‘contain as little merit of any kind as I have ever seen in productions to which the name of a master of established reputation is prefixed’ (2.118). Although Ferrabosco responds to Jonson’s irregular line lengths by changing the rhythmic emphasis every few bars, causing some odd stresses on unimportant syllables, Burney’s criticism is largely unfounded and should be understood in the context of his unfettered disdain of much English music from this period.

5. Epicene (1609)

P.5.1/1‒2 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Still to be neat, still to be dressed

The only song in the play, ‘Still to be neat, still to be dressed’ (1.1.71‒82) is sung by Clerimont’s page at Truewit’s behest, reflecting contemporary practice where servants are introduced to sing for their masters or betters. On a practical level, it may indicate that the actor playing Clerimont was not a singer. Clerimont composed the song on the subject of his dislike of his mistress’s elaborate dressing and make-up. The boy also sings at 1.1.17. In the 1620 quarto Jonson gives the first line of ‘Still to be neat, still to be dressed’; no text is given in the folio. It is ambiguous as to whether the boy sings the whole song or only part of it at 1.1.17.

There are two settings of this song, both of which are much later than 1609. The first, P.5.1/1 (Full score   , MIDI   ), is found in New York, New York Public Library, Drexel MSS 4041 and 4257. Mary Chan (1980, 71) suggests that this setting may have been used for the revival of the play in 1636 by the King’s Men. In Drexel 4257 the song is attributed to William Lawes (1602‒45). The second setting, P.5.1/2 (Full score   , MIDI   ), is found in John Playford’s The Treasury of Music (1669), titled ‘On a Proud Lady’. Chan suggests it may have been used in an undocumented early Restoration revival. P.5.1/2 (Full score   , MIDI   ) is one of only several pieces in Playford’s volume lacking an attribution. The settings work quite well, although Lawes’s is the more polished of the two. For example, both settings treat the four repetitions of ‘still’ similarly with a varied sequential idea. Lawes’s sequences are more the more exact of the two, the first note of the motif rises in thirds until the final occurrence of ‘still’ where Lawes abandons the idea. The later setting has more variety in the sequential pattern, characterized by a rhythmically changing descending figure rising by a single note on each repetition. While no definite connections can be made, it is possible that one or both of these settings were used in revival performances. Lawes was composing for the King’s Men in the 1630s, and Playford had access to a wide range of music including music used in the theatres. Drexel 4041 was the source from which the setting of the song published in antiquarian Edward Rimbault’s Musical Illustrations of Bishop Percy’s Reliques of Ancient English Poetry (1850).

6. Catiline His Conspiracy (1611)

P.6.1/1‒2 (Full score   , MIDI   )   It is decreed. Nor shall thy fate, O Rome

The two settings of Catiline’s opening soliloquy (1.1.73‒97) found among the music manuscripts of the diarist Samuel Pepys (1633‒1703) represent the earliest musical settings of Jonson’s blank verse. P.6.1/2 (Full score   , MIDI   ) was composed by the Italian Cesare Morelli. P.6.1/1 (Full score   , MIDI   ) was mostly composed by Pepys himself. From his diary, we know quite a lot about how and when the setting came about; it is worth recounting in detail.

Pepys first read Catiline on 18 December 1664, but did not see the play performed for another four years. On 7 December 1667 (Pepys, Diary, 8.569) he was told that Catiline was ‘likely to be soon acted [at] . . . the King’s House’ (i.e. The Theatre Royal, Bridges Street; destroyed by fire in 1672). Four days later he discusses the upcoming performance complaining of the lack of good actors at the theatre; on 11 January 1667/8 there is talk of the performance being postponed. On 19 December 1668 finally Pepys saw the play, on its second day at the King’s playhouse. He found it to be
a play of much good sense and words to read, but that doth appear the worst upon the stage, I mean the least divertising, that ever I saw any, though most fine in clothes and a fine scene of the Senate and of a fight, that ever I saw in my life – but the play is only to be read. And therefore home with no pleasure at all, but only in sitting next to Betty Hall, that did belong to this house and was Sir Ph[ilip]. Howard’s mistress; a mighty pretty wench, though my wife will not think so (Pepys, Diary, 9.395).
Undoubtedly influenced to some degree by experiments with recitative in entertainments, such as The Siege of Rhodes (see below), designed to circumvent the Interregnum ban on dramatic activity, Pepys set about composing a setting of ‘It is decreed. Nor shall thy fate, O Rome’ in April 1666; the diary entry for 5 April reads ‘and so home, and late putting notes to It is decreed, nor shall thy fate, &c(Diary, 7.91). The compositional process was evidently a laboured one. Two weeks later (18 April) Pepys tells us that, ‘In all my riding in the coach, and intervals, my mind hath been full these three weeks of setting to music It is decreed &c.’ (7.104). Composition continued into the summer. On 27 July he notes ‘I [went] home, and there, after a little while mending of my tune to It is decreed, to bed’ (7.223). Although the process was slow, Pepys clearly felt it to be worthwhile. On 22 August he notes that (the singer, actress, and dancer) Elizabeth Knipp ‘tells me my song of Beauty Retire is mightily cried up – which I am not a little proud of; and do think I have done It is Decreed better, but I have not finished it’ (7.257). ‘Beauty retire’ is from the second part of William Davenant’s all-sung Siege of Rhodes first performed in 1659. The original music (vocal music by Henry Lawes, Henry Cooke, and Matthew Locke; instrumental music by Charles Coleman and George Hudson) is lost but the entertainment seems to have been set mainly in recitative (or perhaps more accurately, in heightened declamatory style), with a chorus at the end of each of the five entries (Laurie, 1995). Pepys thought highly of The Siege of Rhodes, which he saw several times; he also tried to acquire a copy of the music for the production. His own setting of ‘Beauty retire’ survives (facsimile in Pepys, Diary, vol. 6). Pepys did not finish his setting of ‘It is decreed’ until November 1666: on the 11th he wrote, ‘After church, home, and I to my chamber and there did finish the putting time to my song of It is decreed. And do please myself at last, and think it will be thought a good song’ (7.366).

Three days after finishing the setting, Pepys began teaching it to Elizabeth Knipp. ‘After dinner, I to teach her my new Recitative of It is decreed – of which she learnt a good part; and I do well like it, and believe shall be well pleased when she hath it all, and that it will be found an agreeable thing’ (7.369). Pepys had thus far only composed the vocal line; it was not until 10 December that he began ‘setting of a Base to It is Decreed’ (7.403). But he evidently had trouble fitting the harmonic accompaniment to his vocal line, and so enlisted the help of a friend. On 19 December 1666 Pepys

met Mr. Hingston the Organist (my old acquaintance) in the Court, and I took him to the Dogg tavern and got him to set me a bass to my It is decreed, which I think will go well; but he commends the song, not knowing the words, but says the ayre [i.e. melody] is good, and believes the words are plainly expressed. He is of my mind, against having of eights unnecessarily in composition. This did all please me mightily (7.414).

John Hingeston (c. 1606‒83) was a court musician, composer, and teacher, who became organist to Oliver Cromwell in 1654. The reference to ‘eights’ has been interpreted as referring to leaps of an octave in the vocal line (Emslie, 1955) or (more likely) as indicating that Hingeston found consecutive octaves between Pepys’s vocal and bass lines (Bridge, 1903).

Pepys was clearly proud of the setting. After dinner on Christmas Day he began to teach his ‘wife and [Ms] Barker my song, It is decreed – which pleases me mightily, as now I have Mr. Hinxton’s bass’ (7.420). On 28 January 1666/7 Pepys sent for Mary Mercer ‘and began to teach her It is decreed’ (8.35). (Mercer was an attractive seventeen-year-old servant employed by Pepys from September 1664. She is described by Pepys as playing ‘pretty well upon the Harpsicon [harpsichord], but only ordinary tunes; but hath a good hand. Sings a little, but hath a good voyce and eare’ (5.226); she remained in the household until the end of the diary.) The next day Pepys was ‘teaching my girl Barker part of my song It is decreed, which she will sing prettily’ (8.36). Pepys writes nothing more of the song until 7 January 1667/8: ‘I walked . . . in the garden a while, and to sing with Mercer there a little; and so home with her and taught her a little of my It is decreed, which I have a mind to have her learn to sing, and she will do it well’ (9.14). The following day he taught Mercer ‘more of It is decreed, and to sing other songs’ (9.16). It seems, however, that Pepys was unimpressed by the ladies’ attempts at his setting. On 24 March 1667/8 he began ‘to prick out [i.e. write out] my song, It is decreed, intending to have it ready to give Mr. [Henry] Harris on Thursday, when we meet for him to sing, believing that he will do it more right then a woman that sings better, unless it were Knipp – which I cannot have opportunity to teach it to’ (9.131). He finished ‘pricking out’ the song three days later. Harris, a versatile performer and good friend of Pepys, was an actor in the Duke’s Company from 1661‒81; he was presumably a tenor.

The diary contains no further reference to the setting, though Pepys kept it for over a decade. Cambridge, Magdalene College, Pepys Library MS 2951 – our source of P.6.1/1 (Full score   , MIDI   ) – was compiled by Pepys’s household musician Cesare Morelli (fl. late 1660s‒86), who began copying and arranging music for Pepys in 1679. It was presumably at this point that the simple part for five-course guitar was added by Morelli. The setting is for a bass-range voice: the songs in MS 2951 were ‘adjusted to the particular compass’ of Pepys’s voice. Combined with the fact that the first singers of his setting were women, this suggests that Pepys’s setting of ‘It is decreed’ was originally for a treble-range voice and transposed down to suit Pepys’s (bass) voice. Morelli also composed his own setting of the Catiline soliloquy (P.6.1/2 (Full score   , MIDI   )), which dates from c. 1680. Pepys seems to have selected his favourite texts for Morelli to set. An obvious example of this is the ‘To be or not to be’ soliloquy, which Pepys learned by heart on 13 November 1664: he later had Morelli set the verse to in a quasi-recitative style (see Emslie, 1957: includes transcription).

Both settings of ‘It is decreed’ are similar in style; Morelli was understandably influenced by his employer. Pepys’s approach to setting the words can be understood in the context of his rapprochement of other kinds of vocal music of which ‘I understood not the words, and with the rests that the words are set, there is no sense nor understanding in them though they be English, which makes me weary of singing in that manner, it being but a worse sort of instrumental musick’ (9 February 1667/8). Although Pepys called his setting ‘recitative’ it is perhaps better described as a declamatory air: every syllable gets a separate note, and the harmony is quite simple and slow-moving. In declamatory airs the main aim was to have the words heard clearly, so that they could be understood, much as if they were spoken. Thus we find little repetition (as the auditor was expected to be able to comprehend the words immediately). An early example of this kind of song is ‘Ariadne’ by Henry Lawes (composed c. 1648). Pepys was a great admirer of Lawes, and especially of ‘Ariadne’. On 19 November 1665 he wrote that he went ‘alone by water to Erith, all the way with my song-book singing of Mr. Law[e]s’s long recitative Song in the beginning of his book [i.e. Ayres and Dialogues (1653), which contains the only printed setting of ‘Ariadne’]’ (Diary, 6.303). Pepys’s use of blank verse as a song lyric represents another aspect of this vogue for declamatory songs. His description of ‘Ariadne’ as ‘recitative’ also gives us further understanding of his use of the term.

7. Bartholomew Fair (1614)

P.7.1/1‒2   My masters and friends, and good people draw near

This ballad, introduced during Cokes’s ‘music lesson’, is integral to the plot in its characterisation of Cokes’s stupidity and Nightingale’s cleverness. Cokes wants to learn how to sing and pleads with Nightingale for a lesson. Nightingale and Cutpurse plot to rob Cokes. Nightingale sings to Cokes who tries to memorize the stanzas by rote; his stupidity is comical, because the words of the song warn him of a Cutpurse as he is being robbed. Despite Nightingale singing several stanzas, Cokes only succeeds in memorizing the occasional line of the ballad. Nightingale tells us that the ballad was sung ‘To the tune of Pagington’s Pound’ (3.5.49), a popular tune (also known as ‘The Cutpurse’). It is not clear to whom or what the title of the tune refers; the matter is further confused by the variety of titles under which it is found, including ‘Paginton’s Round’. ‘Packington’ is often identified as either Sir John Packington, the favourite of Queen Elizabeth, or his great uncle Sir Thomas Packington. The court musician Thomas Paginton (d.1586) is another possible candidate. By whatever title, it is the most popular tune associated with ballads before 1700 (called for in over 100 printed ballads), and continued to be popular into the eighteenth century. The popularity is unsurprising given its appropriateness for ballads. The triple-time corant-like tune is easily singable and catchy, ‘it calls for a long stanza, but the anapaestic rhythm is fluid and the movement rapid, even when the tune is sung slowly’ (C. Simpson, 1966, 564‒5).
Jonson’s refrain ‘Youth, youth, thou hadst better been starved by thy nurse, / Than live to be hangèd for cutting a purse’ became prominent in the later history of the ballad, which was often reprinted under some variant of the title of ‘The Cutpurse’. Simpson gives three variants of the tune ‘Packington’s Pound’. The one printed by Jan Janszoon Starter fits Jonson’s text the best (for other versions and sources of the tune, see C. Simpson, 1966; 564‒70). Starter’s Friesche Lust-Hof (Amsterdam, 1621) is one of the most important Dutch songbooks of the century. Many of the songs are based on English tunes, and it is also an important source for jigs. As demonstrated by the editorial underlay of the first verses, setting the words to the printed tune requires some licence in terms of shortening and lengthening some notes to fit the poetic metre.
Bibliography: Evans, 1929; Brouwer, 1966; C. Simpson, 1966; Chan, 1980; Lindley, 2010. Selected Recordings: Baird & McFarlane, 2000, Track 14 (‘Packington’s Pound’; solo lute); City Waites, 1981, Track 8.

8. The Devil Is an Ass (1616)

P.8.1(a‒e) (Full score   , MIDI   )   Have you seen but a white lily grow

It is unclear whether ‘Have you seen but a white lily grow’ is the same song that Manly sang earlier in the scene (2.6) from a piece of paper given to him by Wittipol. Wittipol’s comment that the words of the song will ‘go unto the air you love so well’ (2.6.13) implies that the melody of Manly’s song was well known. ‘Have you seen’ was one of Jonson’s most popular lyrics and probably his most famous lyric after ‘Drink to me only with thine eyes’ (N.2.2/1‒6). In the Devil Is an Ass, Jonson gives a second verse. These two stanzas were prefaced by another and included in The Underwood as the poem ‘See, the chariot at hand here of Love’ (Und.2.4), of which there is a single setting (N.3.2 (Full score   , MIDI   )). It is unclear whether the extra stanza was known before 1616. Of the three stanzas printed in The Underwood, the third (beginning ‘Have you seen . . .’) is the most attractive for a musical setting, with its prominent vowel sounds, alliteration, and flowing textual melody. The song is well represented in contemporary song manuscripts, eight in total (plus a lost setting). None include any of the other stanzas.

The earliest setting is found in London, British Library, Add. MS 15117 (P.8.1(a) (Full score   , MIDI   )), a manuscript that appears to have been compiled no later than 1616. This is the only setting to have a lute part; the now lost setting listed in the contents of New York, New York Public Library, Drexel MS 4175 as ‘Haue you seene ye (lute) [no.] xxxix’ may have been a concordance. The remaining settings are found in later manuscripts and are all closely related to P.8.1(a) (Full score   , MIDI   ). Several sources, however, reveal enough variants to warrant inclusion in their own right: P.8.1(b) (Full score   , MIDI   ) is found in three sources; P.8.1(c) (Full score   , MIDI   ) is an ornamented version of P.8.1(c) (Full score   , MIDI   ); P.8.1(d) (Full score   , MIDI   ) seems to be a slightly corrupt copy of P.8.1(b). There are two heavily ornamented settings: P.8.1(b) (Full score   , MIDI   ) and P.8.1(e) (Full score   , MIDI   ); both, especially the latter, suggest that the copyist was attempting to record a version that transmitted orally. Indeed, the wide range of variants between each of the sources suggests that oral transmission played an important role in the dissemination of the song (in both simplified and ornamented versions). All of the versions are unattributed. The tentative attribution to Robert Johnson (d. 1633) is based on the style and quality of the setting and is generally accepted (Spink, 1974; Cutts, 1959a). ‘Have you seen’ is an exquisite example of text-setting at its finest, and Robert Johnson was arguably the best English song composer of his generation.
David Fuller (1977), 74-5 questions whether the known versions of the song were ever intended for use on the stage, on the grounds that (1) some of the versions are too complex to be sung by anyone but a professional musician (which presumably the principal actor was not); (2) although the text is italicized the song is not headed ‘song’: the italics could imply spoken inset lyrics; (3) Wittipol could not have accompanied himself and there are no stage directions for music. Points 2 and 3 are inconclusive as they give too much authority to the printed text; point 3 also implausibly suggests that an a cappella performance would not have been possible. Fuller’s first point is correct, although it also invests too much authority to surviving written texts. The ornamented versions may not have been the one sung in early performances: the actor playing Wittipol could simply have sung a simplified version of the tune. Indeed, the frequent melodic repetition lends itself to easy memorisation. Mary Chan (1980, 109) suggests that the Add. 15117 version (P.8.1(a) (Full score   , MIDI   )) was that used in original performances of the play. However, it is unnecessary to assign a particular notated setting to the performances; what the sources suggest is that the basic melodic elements of the song were disseminated widely. It is easy to imagine an actor being able to give a close enough rendition of the melodic essentials to successfully convey the song to an audience, without having to be a particularly good singer. It is anachronistic to suggest that such songs were necessarily sung exactly (or nearly so) as they survive in notation. (See also the Introduction to the present Music Edition.)

‘Have you seen’ was popular enough to inspire others, for example: Sir John Suckling’s ‘Hast thou seen the down in th’air’, in The Sad One (c. 1637‒40); William Cavendish, Duke of Newcastle’s ‘Have you felt the wool of Beaver’ in The Variety (1639); and James Shirley’s ‘Would you know what’s soft’ (1646). Perhaps the clearest example of its popularity is, however, the tradition of parodic verses, the most popular of which began ‘Have you seen a black-headed maggot’. One such verse is given in block text with the setting in Los Angeles, William Andrews Clark Memorial Library, MS C6967M4 (P.8.1(d) (Full score   , MIDI   )). It is typical of the parodies commonly found in manuscript copies of the poem. An editorial setting has been provided with the Textual Commentary entry for P.8.1(d) (Full score   , MIDI   ).

Bibliography: Evans, 1929; Cutts, 1959; Chan, 1969; Crum, 1969; Fuller, 1977; Chan, 1980; Spink, 1974; Lindley, 2010. Recordings: Tragicomedia, 1991, Track 17; Parley of Instruments, 1997, Track 11 (also gives the additional stanzas in The Underwood, set to the same music); Baird & McFarlane, 2000, Track 20; Melia & Goodwin, 2003, Track 5; Sampson & Wadsworth, 2004, Track 17; Sting, 2006, Track 5; Scholl, 2008, Track 9; Sampson & Wadsworth, 2010, Track 20. See also N.3.2 (Full score   , MIDI   ).

9. The Sad Shepherd (1641)

P.9.1/1‒2 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Though I am young and cannot tell

‘Though I am young and cannot tell’ is the only song called for in The Sad Shepherd. Mary Chan (1980, 357) has argued that it ‘mirrors and distils the subtle and complex possibilities of the pastoral’. Eglamour should be the one to sing, as he is the forsaken lover and most pastoral of the characters. However, it is Karolin who sings while Eglamour looks at a copy of the song. The song is intended to console Eglamour. It comments on his plight, while the first person pronouns refer directly to him.

There are two known settings of the text. The first (P.9.1/1 (Full score   , MIDI   )) is by John Wilson (1595‒1674) and survives in his songbook, Bodleian Library, MS Mus.b.1. Typical of Wilson, the harmonies are often clumsy; once one is familiar with his oeuvre, it is difficult to give him the benefit of the doubt that the consecutive fifths and octaves in bars 28‒31 were used for effect. The second setting is by Nicholas Lanier (1588‒1666). Evidently popular, it was printed in seven books between 1652 and 1673, in two-, three- (P.9.1/2(a) (Full score   , MIDI   )), and four-part versions (P.9.1/2(b) (Full score   , MIDI   )). The main melodic part is the same in each of the versions, and John Playford may have been responsible for compiling the four-part (and perhaps the three-part) arrangement. In his setting, Lanier attempts to convey the essential theme of love and death in Jonson’s text by emphasising the words ‘young’, ‘tell’, ‘love’, ‘death’ and ‘well’: these words are all placed on an accented beat and given a relatively long note value.

It is unlikely that either setting was intended for use in the performances of the play. The text of Karolin’s song survives in several contemporary manuscript miscellanies and may have been written by Jonson before the rest of The Sad Shepherd, but of course that need not imply that either of the two surviving settings dates from this time. It should be noted that the two surviving settings are found in sources that date from over a decade after Jonson’s death. The most likely scenario is that Wilson and Lanier set the text independently as an isolated poem. Whether or not this was before 1637 is debatable.

MASQUES AND ENTERTAINMENTS (M)

1. A Private Entertainment at Highgate (1604)

M.1.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )   See, see, oh, see, who here is come a-maying!

‘See, see, oh, see who here is come a-maying!’ is the only song called for in the Highgate entertainment. The only known setting, M.1.1 (Full score   , MIDI   ), was composed by Martin Peerson (d. 1651), who was convicted of recusancy on the same occasion as Jonson in 1606. The only source is Peerson’s first printed collection, Private Music (1620) (complete edition: Rastall, 2008). Evidently proud of his participation in a royal entertainment, Peerson placed ‘See, see, oh, see who here is come a-maying!’ at the end of the collection, noting that ‘This Song was made for the King and Queenes entertaynement at High-gate on May-day. 1604’. Jonson’s first folio (1616) tells us that the song was originally sung by the three gods Aurora, Zephyrus, and Flora; however, Peerson’s setting is in six parts. Richard Rastall (2008), the foremost authority on Peerson, suggests that Peerson revised the setting for six voices specifically for the publication. Indeed only the two Cantus and Altus parts are texted in the print; the Bassus is partially texted, and the Tenor and Countertenor parts are only texted in one passage. The collection was ‘fit for Voices and Viols’ meaning that ‘probably all parts were played by instruments, the voices joining in for the texted sections’ (Rastall, p. x). This may also imply that the Tenor and Countertenor parts were added by Peerson to his original setting, for three voices (two Cantus and Altus) and Bass. This was presumably done to allow him give it pride of place at the end of the volume, which proceeds from four- to six-part settings. Peerson’s setting is well-composed and deserves to be better known (as does much of his music), but it clearly did not make the desired impression, as he received no further royal commissions. A setting of the same text also survives from Thomas Augustine Arne’s The Fairy Prince (1771).
Bibliography: Heydon, 1990; Rastall, 2008. Recording: Wren Baroque Soloists, Track 4.

2. The Masque of Blackness (1605)

M.2.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Come away, come away

‘Come away, come away’, sung by a ‘tenor voice’, is the first of three songs sung after the main masque dance (of the twelve daughters of Oceanus) and before the revels. It was the only song from the masque to be included in Ferrabosco II’s Ayres (1609). The setting is likely to represent some form of the song as it was originally heard; however, it is unclear whether the lute and bass viol parts given in the print were used in the original performance or later additions for a domestic market. Oxford, Christ Church, Mus. 439 includes a concordance for the song evidently derived from the print or some closely related source, but transposed up a fourth, bringing it beyond the usual tenor range, suggesting use by someone with a high (female?) range, g'-g" (though, of course, it could have been sung down the octave).

The song calls the masquers back to the sea, which Ferrabosco reflects in the declamation of the opening bars. The rhythmic figure of the opening bar became a standard rhythmic gesture in declamatory settings, attempting to capture a speech-like idiom. The outline of a diminished fourth (f©'-b¨') in bars 1‒2 can be interpreted as presenting the argument: it is frequently found in Ferrabosco’s music, and has been likened to ‘an enhanced “lachrymae” [sic] motif’ (see Walls, 1996, 56, and his analysis 56‒9). A similar motif can be found in ‘If all these cupids’ (The Masque of Beauty;M.4.2 (Full score   , MIDI   )) and in ‘Why stays the bridegroom’ (The Haddington Masque;M.5.2 (Full score   , MIDI   )). The third melodic phrase (bars 8ff.) similarly begins on an off-beat preceded by a chord in the lute, on an unaccented syllable. Here the frequent syncopation in the voice contrasts against the regular rhythms of the block chords in the accompaniment to give a dance-like quality. The lute accompaniment is chordal, with only occasional passing notes. Similarly, the vocal line is syllabic with no use of melisma or repeated words; however, after the opening phrases the setting becomes less declamatory. The relatively limited vocal range (an octave, d'-d") is used structurally. Each melodic phrase begins with a leap, which becomes progressively wider. Phrase 1 (bars 1ff.), a third; phrase 2 (bars 5ff.), a fourth; phrase 3 (bars 8ff.), a fifth. Phrases 5 (bars 10ff.) and 6 (bars 12ff.) contrast this with ascending stepwise motion, a filled-in fourth followed by a filled-in fifth: the lack of diminished interval outlines can be interpreted as reflecting the resolution of the songs opening gesture. The highest note of the song is heard only once, in the middle of the song on the word ‘have’ (melodic phrase 4, bar 9; a similar structural use of the top note is found in ‘Yes, were the Loves or false, or straying’ and ‘Why stays the bridegroom to invade’). The melodic apex is emphasized by the approach via a leap and by the regular rhythm (lack of syncopation).
In many ways this setting is typical of Ferrabosco’s approach to masque text. The vocal line contains expressive intervals (e.g. the outlined diminished fourth); the harmonies are fluid and seek to move the setting along (although Ferrabosco frequently introduces tonal ambiguity by juxtaposing raised and lowered thirds); there is a balance between declamatory and dance rhythms in an effort to bring out the meaning of the text (see Walls, 1996, 54‒66). Indeed, John Duffy (1980, 128) has identified the failure ‘to accommodate the change from trochaic to iambic feet in the poetry’ in the last two lines of Ferrabosco’s setting as a musical reinforcement of the ‘doubt’ expressed in Jonson’s text. The enjambment in lines 267‒8 is complemented by Ferrabosco’s use of tonic harmony throughout bar 10. However, despite the close correlation of spoken and musical accents, the setting is not entirely faithful to declamatory principles, with frequent accentuation of unstressed words such as ‘We’ and ‘if’.

3. Hymenaei (1606)

M.3.1‒4 (Full score   , MIDI   )   (M.3.1) Essex Antic Masque; (M.3.2) The First of my Lord of Essex; (M.3.3) The Second [of my Lord of Essex]; (M.3.4) The Third [of my Lord of Essex]

The four ‘Essex’ dances, conjectured by Andrew Sabol (1982, 582; see also Chan, 1980) as ‘antimasque dance’ (M.3.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )), ‘entry dance’ (M.3.2), ‘main dance’ (M.3.3), and ‘exit dance’ (M.3.4) have no association with Hymenaei apart from their titles, which clearly refer to some entertainment for the benefit of Robert Devereux, third Earl of Essex (1591‒1646). The ‘Essex’ titles are only found in London, British Library, Add. MS 10444; the five-part consort arrangements printed in John Adson’s Courtly Masquing Ayres (1621) are untitled. Neither source carries attributions. Adson is likely to have supplied his own inner parts; however, the five-part scoring is likely to reflect that used in the original masque performance. Although the sources offer some circumstantial evidence, any connection between these dances and Hymenaei must remain conjecture. We do not know who composed the instrumental music for the masque. Jonson tells us that ‘The dances were both made and taught by Master Thomas Giles’ (591). By this Jonson means that Giles was responsible for the choreography; he may also have composed some of the dance tunes.

The masque text offers a description of the choreography at several points. The following stage directions are given for the antimasque dance: ‘Here, out of a microcosm, or globe (figuring Man), with a kind of contentious music, issued forth the first masque of eight men, whose names in order as they were then marshalled, by couples, I have heraldry enough to set down . . . . These represented the four humours and four affections , all gloriously attired, distinguished only by their several ensigns and colours; and, dancing out on the stage, in their return at the end of their dance drew all their swords, offered to encompass the altar and disturb the ceremonies’ (89‒99). M.3.1 (Full score   , MIDI   ) is typical of antimasque dances in general, with its changing time-signatures and shifts from major-minor tonalities (bars 1‒13, 7‒14, and 15‒26). This contrasts with the rather stately main masque dances (M.3.2‒4). In the first set dance of the main masque the dancers forming significant patterns and letters: ‘Here they danced forth a most neat and curious measure, full of subtlety and device, which was so excellently performed as it seemed to take away that spirit from the invention which the inventor gave to it, and left it doubtful whether the forms flowed more perfectly from the author’s brain or their feet. The strains were all notably different, some of them formed into letters, very signifying to the name of the bridegroom, and ended in manner of a chain, linking hands’ (275‒80).

4. The Masque of Beauty (1608)

M.4.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )   So beauty on the waters stood

‘So beauty on the waters stood’ is the first of a sequence of songs from the masque printed in Ferrabosco’s Ayres (1609). It was sung by ‘a loud tenor’ in celebration of the sixteen lady masquers, including the Queen, as they came ashore to dance their first masque dance. The masquers formed a diamond, in which shape the masquers remained for the duration of the song. This figure dance was directed by Thomas Giles (the choreographer), who played Thames welcoming the Nymphs to Britain.

‘So beauty on the waters stood’ is one of Ferrabosco’s finest masque songs. The simple setting perfectly captures the contemplative reflection of Jonson’s text. The harmonies are quite simple and are always clear in their tonal focus around the tonic of C major. The vocal range is restricted to a single octave, g-g', with a gradual undulation towards the top note which comes towards the end of the middle section (on ‘himself’) and is emphasized by leaping towards it. The lute accompaniment is essentially chordal but subtly reinforces the vocal line throughout. The song is completely symmetrical in structure (||:A:||B||:C:||) and ‘tonally undisturbed’, to borrow Peter Walls’s phrase (1996, 63). The A section consists of two repeated melodic phrases, the second of which is essentially an inversion of the first. It is introduced by an expressive leap of a minor seventh, contrasting the otherwise predominantly stepwise movement. The B section acts as a foil mirroring the change in Jonson’s text, with the word-painting melisma on ‘motion’ interrupting the scalar motion of the vocal line; the lute accompaniment at bar 12 recalls the opening of the song. The C section returns to the opening material, presenting a modified vocal line derived from the scalar motion of the opening. The song is a remarkably effective interpretation of Jonson’s text and the geometrical stance of the masquers.

M.4.2(a‒b) (Full score   , MIDI   )   If all these Cupids now were blind

Following M.4.1 (Full score   , MIDI   ) the masquers perform the second masque dance, after which they come into the hall to dance with the audience. Jonson’s libretto tells us that these revels were ‘intermitted with song’ to offer the dancers ‘respite’. This suggests that the songs ‘If all these Cupids now were blind’ (M.4.2 (Full score   , MIDI   )), ‘It was no policy of court’ (M.4.3 (Full score   , MIDI   )), and ‘Yes, were the loves or false, or straying’ (M.4.4 (Full score   , MIDI   )) were sung in succession, in answer to one another. Each of the songs is in the same ABB form. ‘If all these Cupids . . .’ and ‘It was no policy of court’ were sung by a treble voice (presumably one of the echoes). ‘If all these Cupids . . .’ is the most tuneful of the three. The regular phrases combine well with the flexible vocal line and solid harmonies (some ambiguity is introduced by the juxtaposition of major and minor versions of the tonic chord). The song playfully proposes the wounding of Venus by blind cupids. Ferrabosco uses stock word-painting devices to bring out some of the text: for example, the melisma on ‘wanton’ (bars 4‒5) and the falling sequence on ‘each one wound’ (bars 16‒20). More subtle is the opening phrase, which outlines a diminished fourth (b¨'-f©') on the words ‘Cupids’ and ‘blind’. The overall vocal range is a ninth, d'-e¨". Unlike many of Ferrabosco’s other songs the melodic apex is heard quite early in the song, and is heard twice in quick succession (bars 8 and 9) lessening its impact, perhaps acknowledging that this is the first of a musical trilogy.

The three songs were printed as a single entity in Ferrabosco’s Ayres where they carry subtitles of ‘First part’ etc. They are also found in Oxford, Christ Church, Mus. 439, where they are in the same order, although ‘If all the ages of the earth’ from The Masque of Queens (M.6.5 (Full score   , MIDI   )) is found between the second and third songs. Mus. 439 omits the end of ‘If all these Cupids . . .’ from mid-way through bar 33. In the Christ Church Library Online Music Catalogue, John Milsom notes that a leaf appears to be missing after p. 96, which would explain the omission (directs are given for the next notes at the end of p. 96). However, little information is actually lost: from this point the song returns to mid-way through bar 24 and ends on bar 28. An abstracted page is not obvious: the manuscript was bound in the late seventeenth century and several pages are now mounted on guards. More significant in the Mus. 439 version,M.4.2(b) (Full score   , MIDI   ), is the inclusion of several ornament signs which offer an indication of how such songs were realized in performance. M.4.2(a) (Full score   , MIDI   ) presents the Ayres version, with the ornamented Mus. 439 version given in M.4.2(b) (Full score   , MIDI   ). The ornaments are mostly brief and apply to a single note, known as ‘graces’; extended embellishments of the melody (divisions) are reserved for cadences. At the end of the piece two roulades have been notated by the copyist, an attempt to capture in notation what was an improvisatory technique. Realization of the ornaments does not obscure the basic melodic shape of the song or the relationship of the music and word, which was important in masques.

We can reasonably assume that the printed setting reflects to some degree what was heard in the masque performance. However, as with all of the masque songs in Ayres, the lute part may well have been added by Ferrabosco specifically for the publication. The original masque performance is likely to have included some vocal ornaments similar to those found in Mus. 439. Singers in court masques were professionals well capable of performing difficult material; improvisation was expected.

Bibliography: Chan, 1971; Chan, 1980; Duffy, 1980; Sabol, 1978; Walls, 1996; Kenny, 2008; Christ Church Library, On-line Music Catalogue.

M.4.3 (Full score   , MIDI   )   It was no policy of court

See also notes for M.4.2 (Full score   , MIDI   ). The second of three songs sung in succession (M.4.2‒4 (Full score   , MIDI   )) and in answer to one another, providing the dancers with ‘respite’ during the revels. All three songs were printed in Ferrabosco’s Ayres (1609), where they carry subtitles of ‘First part’ etc.; they are also found in Oxford, Christ Church, Mus. 439 (apparently derived from the print or some closely related source). ‘It was no policy of court’ was sung by a second treble voice (presumably one of the echoes). Peter Walls has described some of Ferrabosco’s songs as ‘anti-declamatory’, meaning that the vocal line is so flexible (usually through syncopation) that it dislocates the sense of the verse by emphasizing unimportant words, usually through melisma, sequence, or imitation. ‘It was no policy of court’ falls into the ‘anti-declamatory’ category. For example, in the opening bars, the words ‘it’ and ‘no’ are emphasized. The text ‘were not men’ (bars 20‒5) also receives emphasis by three sequential repetitions (see Walls, 1996, 59).

The song provides an abrupt change in mood from M.4.2 (Full score   , MIDI   ). The strong opening gestures, larger leaps of the vocal line, and greater variety of phrasing contribute a more serious tone. ‘It was no policy of court’ is certainly more interesting harmonically than M.4.2 (Full score   , MIDI   ), which it was presumably intended to parallel. However, the close juxtaposition of minor and major tonics in the opening is quite unusual and may simply represent an error in printing. This and the previous song share several characteristics: they have the same formal structure (AAB), are sung by trebles, and make use of sequences and motif. The overall vocal range is an eleventh, d'-g". Unlike M.4.2 (Full score   , MIDI   ), the melodic climax is saved until almost the end of the song. It is gradually reached, by stepwise motion, in bar 23 (on ‘men’), emphasized by the approach from the leading tone at the top of the octave and by the rest which immediately follows. It is worth noting that Ferrabosco’s setting gives the opening line as ‘It was no policy of court’; Jonson’s text gives ‘polity’, though the meaning is the same (see Beauty, 279n.).

M.4.4 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Yes, were the Loves or false, or straying

See also notes for M.4.2 (Full score   , MIDI   ) andM.4.3 (Full score   , MIDI   ). The last of three songs sung in succession (M.4.2‒4 (Full score   , MIDI   )) and in answer to one another, providing the dancers with ‘respite’ during the revels. All three songs were printed in Ferrabosco’s Ayres (1609), where they carry subtitles of ‘First part’ etc.; they are also found in Oxford, Christ Church, Mus. 439 (apparently derived from the print or closely related source). ‘Yes, were the Loves or false, or straying’ was sung by ‘a tenor’ voice, the lack of the adjectival ‘loud’ suggests that this was not the same person that sang ‘So beauty on the waters stood’ (M.4.2 (Full score   , MIDI   )). The song concludes the two previous songs; the low tenor voice used to add gravitas (symbolically and aurally). The emphasis here changes from wanton women to a description of the higher form embodied by the women. The syllabic setting of the first two songs gives way to sweeping melismatic gestures (e.g. bars 10‒17). The highest note of the range (g' on ‘strike’, bar 34) is held back until the end of the song. This is the poetic climax of the three linked songs, which ‘resolves the speculation with which they had begun’ (Walls, 1996, 54‒60). The vocal range – a thirteenth, B¨-g′ – is the widest of the three songs, providing an effective and powerful expression of the singer’s range, particularly combined with the melismas. The melismas imbue the vocal line with a celebratory quality, where the melodic sequences are syncopated against the regular, mostly chordal, movement in the lute accompaniment.

M.4.5 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Had those that dwell in error foul

The final song of the masque, ‘Had those that dwell in error foul’, was sung between the second and third entries of the masquers. After the group of three songs M.4.2‒4 (Full score   , MIDI   ), the revels continued with ‘galliards and corantos’ and were concluded by ‘Had those that dwell’, which celebrates the lady masquers, who responded by dancing their third dance. It was sung by ‘the first tenor’, implying the ‘loud’ tenor who sang ‘So beauty on the waters stood’ (M.4.2 (Full score   , MIDI   )). The vocal ranges of the two songs are similar: g-g' in M.4.2 (Full score   , MIDI   ); f-a' in M.4.5 (Full score   , MIDI   ). The only source for M.4.5 (Full score   , MIDI   ) is Ferrabosco’s Ayres (1609). Peter Walls has noted that ‘Had those that dwell in error foul’ is clearly structured through the use of related motifs (1996, 63). The opening motif is based around the interval of a third followed by an ascending stepwise figure (bars 1‒5); this is repeated in a different rhythm, followed by a descending stepwise figure ending on the tonic (bars 6‒9). Bars 10‒16 introduce new melodic figures clearly related to the opening (especially bars 14‒16). The opening motif reappears a fifth higher at bar 17, but is terminated by the descending figure, now ending on the dominant (bars 17‒21). The song ends with the descending figure, once more in the tonic (bars 23‒5). Ferrabosco makes no effort to imitate natural speech and regularly contrasts natural speech stresses with his setting of the text, perhaps in recognition of the artifice of the entertainment. The effect is also heightened by the often quite slow harmonic movement, although at times this is used to highlight the text. For example, the treatment of the enjambment in lines 298‒9 is effected through a continuation of the harmony, allowing continuation of the poetic idea with minimal harmonic jolt.

5. The Haddington Masque (1608)

M.5.1/1‒2 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Beauties, have you seen a toy

There is nothing in Jonson’s masque text to suggest that the ten stanzas (63‒122) recited by the three Graces after being commanded by Venus to search for Cupid among the lady spectators, were sung; however, the AABBCC rhyme scheme does lend itself easily to musical treatment. There are two late settings. The first setting is by Henry Lawes (1596‒1662), who set several song texts by Jonson; it is found in two- and three-part versions. The three-part version, M.5.1/1(a) (Full score   , MIDI   ), was printed in Lawes’s Second Book of Ayres and Dialogues (1655): the copy in London, British Library, Add. MS 11608 is closely related and seems to have been derived from the print (or some related source). A two-part version of the same setting,M.5.1/1(b) (Full score   , MIDI   ), is found in Lawes’s autograph songbook, London, British Library, Add. 53723. The autograph version comes immediately before Lawes’s songs for Milton’s Comus, which are dated October 1634 in the manuscript. This strongly suggests that this setting of ‘Beauties, have you seen a toy’ was composed slightly earlier. The setting is also found in John Gamble’s songbook (New York, New York Public Library, Drexel MS 4257), and a slightly modified version was printed in Playford’s Treasury of Music (1669). There is little difference between the two- and three-part versions: the main melody is the same (with some slight differences), and the bass part is more ornamented in the three-part setting. The bass is given greater freedom in the three-part setting to allow for the text. There are also several variants in the bass of the 1669 version. It should be noted that this is not one of Lawes’s better compositions.

The composer of M.5.1/2 (Full score   , MIDI   ) is unknown. It is also found in Add. 11608, entered after Lawes’s three-part version. It too was probably composed in the 1630s and offers little worth comment. The sources of the musical settings give either the first three stanzas, or give nine of the ten stanzas. All omit stanza 4 (105‒10), perhaps because of its esoteric references (see Applegate, 1966).

M.5.2(a‒b) (Full score   , MIDI   )   Why stays the bridegroom to invade

‘Why stays the bridegroom to invade’ is the fifth of seven stanzas in the epithalamion that ends the masque. This is the only one of the eight songs from Jonson’s masques found in Ayres (1609) that appears to have been substantially rearranged for publication (notwithstanding the possibility that the lute part was newly composed for the publication). According to the masque text, although each of the verses was ‘sung in pieces between the dances’ giving the effect of several songs, it ‘was made to be read an entire poem’ (277‒9). Jonson goes on to note that there were four dances, two choreographed by Jerome Herne, two by Thomas Giles: ‘After the song they came forth, descending in an oblique motion from the zodiac, and danced their first dance. Then, music interposed (but varied with voices, only keeping the same chorus) they danced their second dance. So after, their third and fourth dances, which were all full of elegancy and curious device . . . . The tunes were Master Alfonso Ferrabosco’s (279‒84). It is not clear whether this means that Ferrabosco composed the dance tunes as well as the song tunes. Nor is it clear how many of the stanzas of the epithalamion were sung in the masque: the fact that only four dances are mentioned seems to imply that there were only five ‘songs’. Each of the sung stanzas would presumably have been set to the same music; each stanza contains the same number of feet. The reference to the music being ‘varied with voices, only keeping the same chorus’ (280‒1) suggests that each of the stanzas was distributed among different singers. Each stanza concludes with the line ‘Shine, Hesperus, shine forth, thou wishèd star’. This is omitted from Ferrabosco’s printed setting (M.5.2(a) (Full score   , MIDI   )) and was apparently sung by a full chorus (which may also have sung the last verses, thus emphatically ending the masque). Only one stanza would have been necessary for publication. The chorus too would have been superfluous in a volume of solo songs aimed at the amateur domestic market. Thus the fact that only one stanza was included in Ayres cannot be taken as evidence that it was the only one sung in the masque.

Ferrabosco’s setting comprises two sections. The A section is divided into two melodic phrases. The first descends by step before an ascending leap of a fourth. The second, contrasting, phrase contains an octave leap and ends on the relative major (C major). Both phrases are then heard again in a slightly modified form (now ending on the tonic, A minor). The B section begins with the evocative climax on the word ‘same’, emphasized by the leap to the g". As Peter Walls (1996, 61‒2) notes, ‘the same’ here means ‘different’ or no longer a virgin bride: Ferrabosco emphasizes the transformation by making it the melodic climax.

A concordance apparently derived from the print (or some closely related source), but lacking the lute part, is found in Oxford, Christ Church, Mus. 439, a version containing many written-out vocal ornaments (M.5.2(b) (Full score   , MIDI   )). Almost half of the notes in the printed version carry an ornament in Mus. 439, from graces (ornaments on a single note) to extended divisions (ornaments on several notes) at cadences (bars 5‒6, 10‒11, 15‒16, 23‒4).

Bibliography: Chan, 1971; Chan, 1980; Duffy, 1980; Huws Jones, 1989; Toft, 1993; Walls, 1996; Kenny, 2008. Recordings: Ricercar Consort, 2008, Track 30 (M.5.2(a) (Full score   , MIDI   )), Track 34 (M.5.2(b) (Full score   , MIDI   )) (reissue of Ricercar Consort, 2001, Tracks 13 and 15).

6. The Masque of Queens (1609)

M.6.1(a‒b)   The First Witches’ Dance

We do not know who composed the instrumental music for The Masque of Queens; however, five dances (two antimasque, three main masque) are commonly attributed to the masque. Such attributions are difficult to apply with any certainty, though there is a reasonable amount of circumstantial evidence.

The two witches’ dances from the antimasque (M.6.1‒2 (Full score   , MIDI   )) are generally ascribed to Robert Johnson (d. 1633) (see, for example, Cutts, 1960; Sabol, 1978). ‘The First Witches’ Dance’ (M.6.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )) was highly popular, and is found in several arrangements for ensemble and for solo instruments. The attribution to Johnson is plausible, given the style of the piece and Johnson’s association with masques at this time. It is also similar in style to the Johnson’s ‘Satyrs Dance’ from Oberon (M.7.2 (Full score   , MIDI   )). M.6.1 (Full score   , MIDI   ) is linked to Jonson’s Queens by the inclusion of an arrangement for solo lute in Robert Dowland’s Variety of Lute-Lessons (1610), where it is titled ‘The Witches daunce in the Queenes Maske’; indeed, all sources carry some titular reference to ‘witches’. It is one of four pieces (M.6.1 (Full score   , MIDI   ), M.6.3, M.6.4, M.6.6) attributed by Dowland to the ‘Queenes masque’, presumably referring to the masque of the previous year. It seems likely that Robert’s father John was actually responsible for compiling arrangements for the publication. Although this is not conclusive evidence, two factors strongly suggest that these dances were taken from the masque: (1) in his post as a court musician Dowland would have had ready access to masque music and to musicians who performed in masques: he may even have performed in Queens himself; (2) the proximity of the publication date to the masque.
It is fortunate that two five-part versions are known of M.6.1 (Full score   , MIDI   ), both of which are related, though not directly. These consort arrangements give us a rare opportunity to see how such pieces were disseminated in England and on the Continent. A two-part version (tune and bass) is found in London, British Library, Add. MS 10444; it is more closely related to the version British Library, Add. 17786‒91, M.6.1(a) (Full score   , MIDI   ), than to that published in William Brade’s Newe ausserlesene liebliche Branden (Hamburg, 1617),M.6.1(b) (Full score   , MIDI   ). Comparison of the two five-part versions reveals several interesting features. An obvious point of departure is the tonality. Although both versions use almost identical harmonies, the Add. 17786‒91 version is in D major while the Brade version is in C major. As we would expect, the outer parts of both versions are similar. However, the same is also true of the second treble in opening bars of each strain. One must allow for a certain degree of overlap between the arrangements of the inner parts in such pieces, as both arrangers (unidentified and Brade) would have approached the task in much the same way and would have used a relatively standardized approach. Nevertheless, the occurrence of several identical motifs in the second treble, combined with the otherwise newly-composed inner parts, suggests that Brade had access to either a two-part version (which also contained the opening points for the second treble) or to a lute version in tablature. From this ‘gist’, Brade clearly made his arrangement along similar harmonic lines. Similar compressed settings (comprising the tune, bass, implied harmonies, and any particularly striking contrapuntal or decorative features in the inner parts) were commonly used in the dissemination of popular English pavans (such as ‘Lachrimae’) in the late sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries (see Holman, 1999, 29). The importance of this in terms of the dissemination of masque music is that it tells us that (in some instances) arrangers such as Brade and Thomas Simpson worked from ‘gists’ rather than simply from tune and bass outlines as preserved in Add. 10444. Of course, the reverse may be true. Sources such as Add. 10444 may contain edited versions that discarded any material other than the outer parts, though this does not correspond to much of the evidence relating to the composition process for masque music.
Brade is likely to have compiled the arrangement himself, supplying the inner parts. As such, it offers only an indication of how such a piece would have sounded in the original masque. Brade’s arrangement was published in 1617, and the Add. 17786‒91 arrangement is unlikely to have been copied any earlier. It is certainly possible that the Add. 17786‒91 version is (or is closely related to) the version in the original performance of the masque. The stylistic similarity between the two versions reinforces the point that antimasque dances were distinguished from main masque dances by their orchestration and choreography (see Walls, 1996). Jonson’s stage directions give us some clues as to how the music was orchestrated and danced. Clearly percussion played an important role:

these witches, with a kind of hollow and infernal music, came forth from thence. First one, then two, and three, and more, till their number increased to eleven, all differently attired: some with rats on their heads, some on their shoulders, others with ointment pots at their girdles; all with spindles, timbrels, rattles, or other venefical instruments, making a confused noise, with strange gestures . . . . These eleven witches beginning to dance – which is an usual ceremony at their convents, or meetings, where sometimes also they are vizarded and masked – on the sudden one of them missed their chief, and interrupted the rest with this speech . . . (19‒30)

As Peter Walls notes, these instruments were chosen because of their iconographic association with the occult; mostly percussive and rustic, they would have had no place in the cultured main masque. Whatever the orchestration, a five-part arrangement can be assumed, although wind instruments may have combined with violins. The arrangement could easily have been layered with the percussion of the antimasquers.

Although the arrangements of the dance for solo lute is of interest in terms of understanding the wider processes of arrangement, they are of little relevance to our understanding of music in Jonson’s masques and have consequently not been included in this edition: for transcriptions, see Chan, 1980, 203‒6.

M.6.2   The Second Witches’ Dance

See also notes for M.6.1 (Full score   , MIDI   ). John P. Cutts (1960) has argued against attributing this dance to Queens (suggesting rather that it actually belongs to an unidentified play), noting (1) that Jonson’s text does not overtly call for a second dance accompanied by music and (2) that Robert Dowland did not include it in his Variety of Lute-Lessons (1610), which otherwise continued four dances attributed to the same masque (i.e. M.6.1 (Full score   , MIDI   ),M.6.3 (Full score   , MIDI   ),M.6.4 (Full score   , MIDI   ),M.6.6 (Full score   , MIDI   )). Indeed, it must be said that compared with M.6.1 (Full score   , MIDI   ) there is significantly less evidence for associating this dance with Queens. The attribution rests solely on the basis that it is paired with the first dance in London, British Library, Add. MS 10444 and that it too carries a titular reference to ‘witches’. The composer is unknown, although the dance is generally attributed to Robert Johnson (see, for example, Cutts, 1960; Sabol, 1978). Jonson’s citation of Jerome Herne as ‘the maker of the dance’ refers to his role as dancing master (i.e. devising the choreography, rather than composing the music). No full consort arrangements are known. Apart from the two-part setting in Add. 10444, the piece is only otherwise found in a keyboard arrangement in Oxford, Christ Church, Mus. 87 (also primarily in two parts, but which contains many variants from the Add. 10444 version). Presuming that the dance was part of Queens, we may assume that it was performed in a similar manner to ‘The First Witches’ Dance’ (i.e. in a five-part arrangement, orchestrated with various percussive instruments). Again we have a detailed account of how the dance was performed:

At which, with a strange and sudden music they [the witches] fell into a magical dance, full of preposterous change and gesticulation, but most applying to their property: who at their meetings, do all things contrary to the custom of men, dancing back to back and hip to hip, their hands joined, and making their circles backward to the left hand, with strange fantastic motions of their heads and bodies. All which were excellently imitated by the maker of the dance, Master Jerome Herne . . . . In the heat of their dance, on the sudden, was heard a sound of loud [i.e. wind] (313‒22).

Although (as Cutts notes) the text does not specifically call for music to accompany the dancing, it seems highly likely. As a dancing master, Herne would have accompanied the dancers in rehearsals on his violin. Andrew Sabol (1982, 568) has suggested that the ‘sudden . . . sound of loud music’ – which indicates wind instruments – may have been heard at bars 9-10 of M.6.2. The ensemble is likely to have consisted of wind and string instruments, with various percussion sounds.
Bibliography: Cutts, 1960; Sabol, 1978; Walls, 1996. Recording: Musica Donum Dei, 2005, Track 20.

M.6.3 (Full score   , MIDI   ) Almande: The First of the Queen’s Masque

An arrangement of M.6.3 (Full score   , MIDI   ) for solo lute is printed in Robert Dowland’s Variety of Lute-Lessons (1610) with the title ‘The first of the Queenes Maskes’. It is one of four dances in the volume to carry a titular reference to the ‘Queens maske’ (M.6.1 (Full score   , MIDI   ),M.6.3 (Full score   , MIDI   ),M.6.4 (Full score   , MIDI   ),M.6.6 (Full score   , MIDI   )), which seems to imply The Masque of Queens staged in the previous year: see notes for M.6.1 (Full score   , MIDI   ). The lute arrangement was probably compiled by John Dowland.

In addition to the lute settings published by Dowland, consort versions are known for all three dances conjectured as the main masque dances. The first (M.6.3 (Full score   , MIDI   )) is found in Cambridge, Fitzwilliam Museum, Mus. 734, and may well be the one actually used in the masque. Jonson’s text tells us that ‘The first [dance] was to the cornetts, the second to the violins’ (609‒10). The Mus. 734 setting is in six parts, now lacking the tenor (here editorially reconstructed). Two-treble, six-part scorings were typical of the royal wind band in the early seventeenth century; the violin band used a single-treble, five-part scoring. We know that Ferrabosco composed most of the music for the masque. M.6.3 (Full score   , MIDI   ) is unattributed in the sources, although other pieces in the same sequence in Mus. 734 are attributed to composers (including Ferrabosco) who had connections to the royal wind band. The previous piece in Mus. 734 may also be by Ferrabosco, since the two dances form a pair. Perhaps it was also used in the masque as part of the ‘loud music’.

Highlighting the problematic nature of attributing masque dances to specific entertainments solely on titular grounds, there is also another set of three dances in London, British Library, Add. MS 10444 bearing the title ‘The Queenes Masque’ (Treble: fos. 10v, 11v, 12v; Bass: fos. 65v, 66v, 67; transcriptions in Chan, 1980 and Sabol, 1978). Andrew Sabol (1982, 564) suggested that the set was composed by Robert Johnson. The dances are, however, poor in quality; for that reason alone, there is no justification for attributing them to either Ferrabosco or Johnson. The Queens dances chosen for this edition are well composed, and conceivably by Ferrabosco. They also have the advantage of having tangible links to a court repertoire through the inclusion of M.6.3 (Full score   , MIDI   ) in Mus. 734.
In the early seventeenth century, professional wind players applied division techniques liberally to dance music (see Mayer Brown, 1976). Further help in writing or improvising stylish divisions can be obtained from the decorated repeats of lute and keyboard versions of some of the Mus. 734 dances. The lute arrangement of M.6.3 (Full score   , MIDI   ) (transcribed in Chan, 1980, 211‒12) includes extensive divisions, which may serve as instructive.
Bibliography: Mayer Brown, 1976; Chan, 1980; Sabol, 1978.

M.6.4 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Brand: The Second of the Queen’s Masque

See also notes for M.6.3 (Full score   , MIDI   ). As Peter Holman (1992, 189) has noted, it is probably no coincidence that the first dance – ‘to the cornetts’ – has a two-treble, six-part concordance in Cambridge, Fitzwilliam Museum, Mus. 734, whereas this, the second dance – ‘to the violins’ – is found in the single-treble, five-part scoring used by the royal violin band. This is the first item of William Brade’s Newe ausserlesene liebliche Branden (Hamburg, 1617), one of a sequence of six brawls (Sabol, 1978, nos. 315‒20). Brade is likely to have supplied the inner parts, working from a two-part outline. The lute arrangement printed in Robert Dowland’s Variety of Lute-Lessons (1610) was probably compiled by John Dowland. If the attribution to Queens (posited in notes for M.6.3 (Full score   , MIDI   )) is accepted, the arrangement is presumably of the second main dance. Robert Johnson or Alfonso Ferrabosco II may be suggested as its composer.

M.6.5 (Full score   , MIDI   )   If all the ages of the earth

‘If all the ages of the earth’ (M.6.5 (Full score   , MIDI   )), which celebrates Queen Anne as the most worthy of worthy queens, introduces the third masque dance. Ferrabosco notably alters the certainty of Jonson’s opening line from ‘When’ to ‘If’, although this could also perhaps indicate a revision by Jonson for the first folio. This is the only song from the masque for which a contemporary setting survives: Ferrabosco’s setting was printed in his Ayres (1609). The stage directions note that it was sung by the tenor John Allen, who also sang (with Nicholas Lanier) in The Somerset Masque. Allen was a member of Shakespeare’s company; there is no record of a court appointment (Walls, 1996, 3). The vocal line is heavily syncopated, so much so that it distorts the sense of the verse by placing unimportant words, such as ‘of’, on accented beats. Other unimportant words are given melismas and long notes. A similar approach can be found in several of Ferrabosco’s masque songs, such as ‘It was no policy of court’ (M.4.3 (Full score   , MIDI   )) for example; Peter Walls, (1996, 59) has designated these settings as ‘anti-declamatory’. M.6.5 (Full score   , MIDI   ) is notable for the angular vocal line and the lively rhythmic variety. Mary Chan (1980, 229‒30) argues that Ferrabosco deliberately avoids bringing out the poetic structure and sense of Jonson’s text. This is the result of the changed structure of the masque, with the introduction of a dramatic antimasque. Whereas previous masque songs in the revels reminded the audience that they were participants in the masque and its meaning, the new antimasque emphasized their passive role as spectators. Thus, ‘When all the ages of the earth’ provides a summary of the masque’s theme, and Ferrabosco’s setting highlights the disjuncture of the song from context of the masque. The position of the song as the climax of the masque appears to be represented by Ferrabosco’s frequent recourse to the highest notes of the upper part of the singer’s tessitura. The highest note (a') is heard in bars 6, 14, and 21; the high tonic g' is heard seven times (excluding repeats); the sustained high tessitura throughout reflects the crowning of the masque. The vocal line is often driven forward by the bass line. The harmonies are clear and direct often emphasising the tonic or dominant, with a passing modulation through the mediant towards the end of the song (bars 17‒18).

The song is also found (lacking the lute part) in Oxford, Christ Church, Mus. 439. As with the other Ayres concordances, it appears to be derived from the 1609 printed edition or some closely related source. However, in the print the vocal part is notated in a c3 clef and has a typical tenor range (g-a'); the Mus. 439 setting is notated in the treble (g2) clef resulting in a treble range (g'-a"), an octave above the print. The same type of transposition is also found in ‘Come away, come away’ from The Masque of Blackness (M.2.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )). It implies that the compiler of Mus. 439 had in mind a treble-range singer (although it could have been sung an octave lower). The fact that Jonson’s text calls for a tenor further implies that the manuscript copy is the arrangement, not Ayres.

M.6.6(a‒b)   The Last of the Queen’s Masque

See also notes for M.6.3‒4 (Full score   , MIDI   ). M.6.6(a) (Full score   , MIDI   ) is the last in a series of four dances for solo lute printed in Robert Dowland’s Variety of Lute-Lessons (1610) to carry a titular reference to the ‘Queens maske’ (M.6.1 (Full score   , MIDI   ),M.6.3 (Full score   , MIDI   ), M.6.4 (Full score   , MIDI   ), M.6.6 (Full score   , MIDI   )), which seems to imply The Masque of Queens staged in the previous year: see notes for M.6.1 (Full score   , MIDI   ). If the dance can be attributed to Queens, Robert Johnson or Alfonso Ferrabosco II may be suggested as the composer. The printed arrangement for solo lute was probably compiled by John Dowland.

M.6.6 (Full score   , MIDI   ) presumably came after the song ‘When all the ages of the earth’ (M.6.5 (Full score   , MIDI   )): ‘After it succeeded their third dance, than which a more numerous composition could not be seen: graphically disposed into letters, and honouring the name of the most sweet and ingenious Prince, Charles, Duke of York’ (621‒3). No consort version is known. A second arrangement for solo lute is found in London, Royal Academy of Music, Library, MS 603,M.6.6(b) (Full score   , MIDI   ). Both arrangements include significantly different divisions, highlighting the improvisational and individual nature of such arrangements.

Bibliography: Shepherd, 1996. Recordings: Blaze & Kenny, 2007, Track 3 (M.6.6(a) (Full score   , MIDI   )); Parsons, 2002, Track 4.

APPENDIX: Eighteenth-century glee

M.6.7 (Full score   , MIDI   )A   The Witches’ Song

This glee (i.e. a nineteenth century partsong imitative of the madrigal) is one of two glees composed by Richard John Samuel Stevens (1757‒1837) on texts by Jonson. It is dated ‘Feb. 1 1799’ in Stevens’s autograph score (London, British Library, Add. MS 31815). Stevens was not a great composer and his works are now largely forgotten; the setting of the ‘The Witches’ Song’ is one of his best works. He omitted several of the quatrains and used only lines 130‒4, 138‒49, 154‒7, and 174‒9. Although none of these lines were sung in the original masque it is easy to see why they appealed to Stevens. As Peter Walls (1996, 78) has noted, they ‘are, in effect, unmusical songs, a sinister antimasque equivalent of those main masque songs which initiate the magical scenic transformations . . . . The same four-stress/seven syllable lines are used for the witches’ unholy chants in Macbeth’.
The primary source for the glee is an autograph scorebook. A slightly revised setting was published by Stevens in 1808 in his Seven Glees with a Witches Song & Chorus. The revisions in the printed version are mostly refinements of the autograph score: the two versions have not been collated for this edition. The instrumental opening is strongly reminiscent of John Weldon’s setting of the John Dryden and William Davenant adaptation of The Tempest (c. 1712). Weldon was only identified as the composer by Margaret Lurie in the early 1960s (Laurie, 1963); in the eighteenth century it was thought to have been written by Henry Purcell, whose music Stevens knew and admired.
Between 1808 and 1828 Stevens wrote his ‘Recollections’, from which a number of details concerning the Jonson setting can be gleaned. ‘The Witches’ Song’ was first performed at the Anniversary Concert, given to the Ladies, by the Harmonists’ Society on 29 March 1799. The Harmonists’ Society was founded by Stevens and some of his friends in 1794. They met on alternate Thursdays for dinner followed by glee-singing, first at Wills’ Coffee House and subsequently at the New London and then the City of London Taverns. Stevens conducted the music (i.e. directed from, and accompanied on, the piano) (Argent, 1992, 293). As Mark Argent has noted, glee singing was strongly associated with the Anglican choral tradition in which Alto parts were sung by men and Soprano parts by boys. The Alto and Tenor parts of glees were typically written in C-clefs, or in the treble clef and sung an octave lower than written pitch. Soprano parts were sung by women or boys (see Argent, 1992, 22). Women were excluded from regular meetings of the Harmonists’ Society; however, from 1795 there was an annual concert for the ladies for which there were additional rehearsals that may have involved female singers (Argent, 293). Such parts could also have been taken by women, though on at least one occasion the top part was sung by a boy (see below). Stevens’s notes record that the glee was ‘composed at the request of Mrs. Hughes’; the same phrase appears in the printed version (there is no such reference in the autograph scorebook). Mrs Hughes was the wife of Rev. Dr Thomas Hughes, Prebend of Westminster, and later Canon Residentiary of St Paul’s Cathedral. She had been one of Stevens’s singing pupils, and apparently showed some talent. Stevens recalled that she could sing his glee ‘Ye spotted snakes’ ‘exceedingly well’ (Argent, 1992, 92). Mrs Hughes was apparently a source of some comfort to Stevens after the rejection of his marriage proposal to Anna Maria Jeffrey in April 1799. ‘The Witches’ Song’ was evidently popular, especially at the annual Ladies’ Concert, and was performed regularly, often at or near the top of the bill. In addition to semi-private performances at Stevens’s house on 3 May 1822, 30 May 1823, and 11 May 1827, recorded public performances took place as follows:

25 May 1799: Concert for the Princess of Wales at Blackheath. Singers: Eliot (Boy Soprano), Thomas Carter (Alto), Jonathan Nield (Tenor), Robert Leete (Bass), and James Bartleman (Bass)

24 March 1803: Harmonists’ Society, Ladies Anniversary Vocal Concert

28 March 1805: Harmonists’ Society, Ladies Anniversary Vocal Concert

19 January 1810: Harmonists’ Society, Ladies Anniversary Vocal Concert

Easter 1810: Mr Vaughan’s benefit concert

The manuscript and printed versions of The Witches’ Song’ have a figured bass part throughout, with a treble line at the start (for the instrumental introduction) and between each of the verses. This was a typical way for eighteenth-century composers to write an orchestral short score. In 1810 Stevens noted that ‘on Good Friday I was obliged to finish the Instrumental parts to the Witches’ Song, performed at Mr. Vaughan’s Benefit’ (Argent, 1992, 173). Clearly on this occasion Stevens had to provide the instrumental parts, though they do not survive. All other performances at the Harmonists’ Society, Ladies Anniversary Vocal Concerts suggest that Stevens accompanied on the piano, implying that Vaughan’s Benefit Concert was the first performance of the fully scored version.

7. Oberon (1611)

M.7.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Catch: ‘Buzz’, quoth the blue fly

A catch is a type of round or canon, where the voices (commonly three or four) each enter in turn, a line apart: i.e. voice 1 sings line 1 unaccompanied and when voice 1 begins line 2, voice 2 begins line 1, and so on. After each voice has sung through the catch, it goes back to the start, and so on as desired. Following modern editorial convention, Nelham’s catch has been printed here in score. Although most catches were presumably composed in score, to save space it was most common for them to be disseminated (in manuscripts and prints) in the form of a single continuous melody, with the point of new entries indicted by a sign. Both sources for Nelham’s catch give it as a single melody. Voice numbers in bold after the staves indicate where the part continues. The final note has been editorially marked with a fermata.

The catch was sung by four satyrs who are directed to ‘strike a charm’ into the ears of the sleeping Sylvans. The only known seventeenth-century setting is by Edmund Nelham (d. 1646), and was not published until 1667. Despite the late date of the surviving sources, the catch may well have been used – or derived from that used – in the masque. It is certainly more stylistically representative of the early seventeenth century than to the Restoration. The earliest reference to Nelham is his admission to the Chapel Royal in 1616, where he served as a bass chorister until 1642. Almost thirty songs and catches are attributed to him, though this is not among his best. Nelham’s setting of the satyrs’ catch also contains two extra lines of text not found in Jonson’s original: ‘You have a thing above your knee, I think it is as black as black may be’. It is unclear whether these lines had anything to do with the original masque and were excised by Jonson in the printed libretto. They are not part of the first catch but can be performed after it, with voice 4 becoming voice 1 of the second catch.

The catch makes no attempt to further the action of the masque; Mary Chan (1980; 238) has noted that the presence of similar songs in plays for children, where the song fulfils an interlude-like function. Such songs are commonly found in later antimasques.
Bibliography: Chan, 1980; Sabol, 1978; Ashbee, 1998 (‘Nelham, Edmund’); Spink, 2000b. Recording: Musicians of the Globe, 1997, Track 9.

M.7.2 (Full score   , MIDI   )   The Satyrs’ Masque

Following the Satyrs’ song ‘Now my cunning lady, Moon’ (for which no music survives) the stage direction reads: ‘The song ended, they fell suddenly into an antic dance, full of gesture and swift motion, and continued it till the crowing of the cock; at which they were interrupted by Silenus’ (205‒6). The dance was described in a contemporary Spanish account as a wild dance ‘with appropriate music’ and ‘a thousand sudden movements and strange gestures, affording great pleasure’ (Masque Archive, Oberon, 4). Typical of antimasque dances, the choreography was full of wild gesticulation and movement.

What seems likely to be the original dance survives in tune and bass format in London, British Library, Add. MS 10444, where it is unattributed but titled ‘The Satyres Masque’. A four-part consort version was published in Thomas Simpson’s last collection, Taffle-Consort (Hamburg, 1621). Like William Brade, Simpson (1582‒c. 1628) was an expatriate English musician who spent much of his life working in mainland Europe. The consort version is untitled but attributed to Robert Johnson (d. 1633). We can be reasonably certain that this dance was from Oberon. While Jonson’s text does not identify his musical collaborators, payment records do survive for the masque which reveals that Robert Johnson and Alfonso Ferrabosco II composed the music: Johnson was paid for ‘making Daunces’, Ferrabosco for the songs. The records also show that Thomas Giles, Jerome Herne, and Monsieur [Nicolas] Confesse choreographed the dances. Simpson’s arrangement of ‘The Satyrs’ Dance’ is in an up-to-date two-treble four-part scoring; he presumably added the second treble and the tenor-range inner part. In the masque, the dance would most likely have been performed by the violin band which used a five-part, single treble scoring. Robert Johnson is likely to have composed the dances in two parts, tune and bass, much as they survive in Add. 10444. Thomas Lupo was paid for ‘settinge them to the violins’, i.e. supplying the three inner parts. The Pells Records for the masque list the ‘xvi other instruments for the Satires & faeries as one’ (Masque Archive, Oberon, 7). The instruments are not specified although a combination of string band perhaps with some wind and percussion instruments for M.7.1 (Full score   , MIDI   ) seems plausible.

The dance is an excellent example of an antimasque dance. Johnson reflects the wildness of the choreography in the music through the frequent changes of metre, the juxtaposition of hemiola and straight rhythms in bars 22‒31, and by the syncopation in bars 45‒52. The final section (bars 53‒60) reintroduces the motif of the opening bars, though rhythmically redefined in a compound metre. The section is, however, rhythmically ambiguous in the way that the opening motif sometimes assumes a duple metre feel (see Walls, 1996, esp. 316‒17). We know nothing of the scoring, although the choice of instruments would have reflected the antimasque character of the dance; the accounts mentioned above reveal only that a payment was made for ‘xvi other instruments, for the Satires & faeries’. Rustic percussion instruments are likely to have featured in such arrangements. The opening is reminiscent of the ‘First Witches’ Dance’ from The Masque of Queens (M.6.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )).
Bibliography: Sabol, 1978; Walls, 1996. Recordings: Musicians of the Globe, 1997, Track 11; North, 2010, Track 15 (reconstructed by North for solo lute).

M.7.3   The Fairies’ Masque

Shortly after the dance of satyrs (M.7.2 (Full score   , MIDI   )) the masque text calls for ‘the lesser fays [to] dance forth their dance’ (295). This was clearly intended as a contrast to the dance of satyrs; the Spanish account tells us that the dance, introduced by Silenus, was performed ‘with much grace’ (Masque Archive, Oberon, 4). In contrast to the wild choreography of the preceding dance, this dance called for alphabetical and geometric patterns. ‘The Fairies Dance’ used here comes immediately after ‘The Satyrs’ Dance’ (M.7.2 (Full score   , MIDI   )) in London, British Library, Add. MS 10444. It is otherwise only found in an arrangement for solo lute: both sources simply give the title as ‘The Fairies Dance’. Although there is again no attribution, this piece is generally thought to have been composed by Robert Johnson. Like ‘The Satyr’s Masque’, it can be ascribed to Oberon with a good deal of certainty. The Pells Records for the masque list the ‘xvi other instruments for the Satires & faeries as one’ (Masque Archive, Oberon, 7); the instruments are not specified although a combination of string band and lutes for M.7.2 (Full score   , MIDI   ) seems plausible. Despite its position in the main masque, the fairies’ dance is more typical of antimasque dances (e.g. the frequent changes in metre, and abrupt changes in tonality), highlighting the importance of choreography rather than actual music in distinguishing between the antimasque and main masque dances. As Peter Walls (1996, 320) notes, ‘If it was used, it must have made this part of the masque seem very much like an intermediate zone between antimasque and main masque.’
Bibliography: Sabol, 1978; Walls, 1996. Recordings: Musicians of the Globe, 1997, Track 16; Musica Donum Dei, 2005, Track 18.

M.7.4 (Full score   , MIDI   ), 6, 8   (M.7.4) Almande (The First of the Prince’s Masque); (M.7.6) Almande (The Second of the Prince’s Masque); (M.7.8) (Full score   , MIDI   )   Almande (The Third of the Prince’s Masque)

Payment records tell us that the main dances – ‘the Princes Dance’ – in Oberon were accompanied by twenty lutes, supplied by Robert Johnson, himself one of the court lutenists (Masque Archive, Oberon, 7). ‘Princes Dance’ is, however, relatively common title in masque music sources. In one of the main sources, London, British Library, Add. MS 10444, there are four groups of three dances bearing such a title. In a similar manner to ‘The Fairies’ Dance’ (M.7.3), these dances were intended as a contrast to the (musical) chaos of the antimasque ‘Satyrs’ Dance’ (M.7.2 (Full score   , MIDI   )): the main masque dances were intended to represent (musical) order. Each of these dances could be said to meet this need, although they are somewhat uneven in quality. The Princes’ dances are chosen for this edition because (1) they can be attributed to Robert Johnson, whom we know composed the dances for Oberon; (2) the titles in several sources imply a connection to a masque presented by Prince Henry (see also notes on individual pieces); (3) they are found in consort arrangements; (4) they were popular, and are found in several sources and arrangements. Above all, they are musically the pick of the bunch.

M.7.4 (Full score   , MIDI   ),M.7.6 (Full score   , MIDI   ), andM.7.8 (Full score   , MIDI   ) are found (in sequence) in tune and bass format in Add. 10444, and in five-part consort arrangements in William Brade’s Neue Ausserlesene liebliche Banden (1617). M.7.4 (Full score   , MIDI   ) andM.7.6 (Full score   , MIDI   ) are also found in six-part versions (lacking the tenor) in Cambridge, Fitzwilliam Museum, Mus. 734. The six-part settings indicate performance by a wind consort; Mus. 734 is an important repository of the repertoire of the Jacobean court wind band. However, main dances of masques were normally played by a five-part violin band. Thus, the versions printed by Brade are more likely to be an accurate reflection of how they were heard in the masque. The appearance of two of the main masque pieces among the repertoire of the court wind band may indicate that they were played by the wind band at the start of the masque (before the entry music). Unlike the antimasque and main masque dances, the pre-masque wind music, entry and exit music, and the revels dances would not have been specifically composed for the entertainment; instead they would have been drawn from the consort repertoire.

Two further almans by Johnson have been attributed to Oberon by John P. Cutts (1960). They survive in several sources in domestic solo arrangements for lute and also for keyboard. Only one source for one of the almans includes a ‘Prince’ reference, a keyboard arrangement in London, British Library, Add. MS 36661, fol. 54 (the volume is a guardbook; this section was copied before 1630): ‘The Princes Almayne By Johnson’. It is immediately preceded by the other alman. The dances are well composed; however, their connection with Oberon is extremely tenuous. Both are transcribed in Chan, 1980, 254‒9.

M.7.4(a‒b) (Full score   , MIDI   )   Almande (The First of the Prince’s Masque)

As with the rest of the collection, the version of M.7.4(a) (Full score   , MIDI   ) in William Brade’s Neue Ausserlesene liebliche Banden (1617) retains the five-part single-treble scoring used by the court violin band, though the inner parts were presumably Brade’s own, added to a tune and bass outline such as is found in London, British Library, Add. MS 10444. Although Brade’s arrangements of these three dances (M.7.4 (Full score   , MIDI   ), M.7.6 (Full score   , MIDI   ), M.7.8 (Full score   , MIDI   )) are unlikely to have come directly from the masque, they do give us a good idea of how such pieces would have sounded. The second ensemble version (M.7.4(b) (Full score   , MIDI   )) is in six-parts; the tenor part is lost and has been here reconstructed editorially. In the early seventeenth century, the royal wind consort used this kind of six-part, two-treble, scoring; thus, it too is unlikely to represent how the piece sounded in the masque. M.7.6 (Full score   , MIDI   ) is also found in both sources. For the 1994 reconstruction of Oberon (released as Musicians of the Globe, 1997) Peter Holman used these wind band arrangements of M.7.4 (Full score   , MIDI   ) and M.7.6 (Full score   , MIDI   ) (in combination with music by Jerome Bassano also from Cambridge, Fitzwilliam Museum, Mus. 734) as part of the pre-masque music (i.e. before the entry music). This offers an excellent and plausible alternative. The attribution to ‘R J’ in Mus. 734 – the only one of the sources to give an attribution – undoubtedly refers to Robert Johnson, although it is highly unlikely that he was responsible for the wind band arrangement. Given the obviously close relationship in all three consort sources of M.7.4 (Full score   , MIDI   ), M.7.6 (Full score   , MIDI   ), and M.7.8 (Full score   , MIDI   ), we may reasonably assume that ‘R J’ was the composer of all three.

   As with M.7.6 (Full score   , MIDI   ), the outer parts of M.7.4 (Full score   , MIDI   ) are also found in Add. 10444. The versions in Add. 10444 and in Brade’s collection are in C major, whereas those in Mus. 734 are in F major. Apart from this, the differences between the versions are minimal and mostly consist of octave transpositions and minor rhythmic deviations (e.g. the Add. 10444 versions tend to have dotted rhythms in place of straight crotchets and quavers). It seems likely that the two-part versions represent an earlier stage in the compositional history of the pieces and that the versions found in Mus. 734 are arrangements for six-part wind band. The process of arrangement presumably necessitated the change of key and octave transpositions to suit better the instrument ranges.

Regarding M.7.4 (Full score   , MIDI   ), Andrew Sabol (1982) noted that titles such ‘Der erste mascharada Pfaltzgraffen’ (‘The first mascharada of the Count Palatine’) (Brade), ‘Lincolns Inn Masque’ (Rés. 1186) and ‘The la: Elyza: her masque’ (MS 603) have led some scholars to suggest that this – and by implication, the next two dances – were originally part of Chapman’s Masque of the Middle Temple and Lincoln’s Inn (1613), given as part of the celebrations of the marriage of Princess Elizabeth and the elector palatine. Chan (1980, 241n.7) supported this claim, arguing that the attributions to the prince are errors ‘possibly explained by the association of Henry’s death in November 1612 with the postponement of the marriage festivities and by the fact that Chapman was sewer in ordinary to Prince Henry’. However, the temporal proximity of the two masques (and Henry’s death) could easily explain how the two occasions were confused. Seven sources of arrangements of the piece for solo instruments such as lute, mandora (a type of lute), and keyboard offer some variation on the ‘the Prince’s Masque; another offers the tantalising title ‘Tapp up all your strong Beere’. We also know that the titles of masque pieces from the collections of Brade and Simpson more often than not differ from those in English manuscript sources. It is quite possible that the published titles refer not to their original usage, but to their function in masque-like entertainments on the continent for which Brade and Simpson supplied the music, which was in turn drawn from English masque sources (see Holman, 1993, 188‒9). The survival of so many arrangements of the piece for domestic solo instruments is a clear demonstration of its popularity, which was no doubt aided by its association in Oberon.
Bibliography: B. Thomas, 1974; Sabol, 1978; Holman, 1993. Recordings: Musicians of the Globe, 1997, Track 18 (M.7.4(a) (Full score   , MIDI   )), Track 2 (M.7.4(b) (Full score   , MIDI   )).

M.7.5 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Nay, nay, You must not stay

‘Nay, nay, You must not stay’ (310‒19) is sung between the first and second masque dances. Only one setting, for voice and unfigured bass, survives. It is attributed to Alfonso Ferrabosco – who composed the songs for the masque – and is likely to represent a version of that used in the masque. However, we know from payment records that the main masque songs were accompanied by an ensemble of twenty lutes led by Robert Johnson. The setting exemplifies the lighter songs found in masques, which are stylistically and structurally based on contemporary dances, such as the alman or galliard (rather than the declamatory ayres, based on lute songs). ‘Nay, nay, You must not stay’ is essentially a light-hearted alman with regular phrasing and a tuneful melody, which reflects the purpose of the text: to spur the masquers on to greater efforts in their second dance. Typical of his masque songs, Ferrabosco divides the text into two sections. The first section (bars 1‒12) comprises the irregular line lengths and metre of lines 310‒15, in which the short melodic phrases are linked and overlap. The last four lines of the poem are more regular, which allows the second section of Ferrabosco’s setting (bars 13‒21) to also be more regular (i.e. primarily two-bar phrases, each beginning on the first beat of the bar). The overall vocal range, d-g', indicates a tenor-range voice. The highest note occurs twice. Its first occurrence (bar 10) is emphasized by scalar motion building to the leading tone, the long dotted-minim, and by the leap away from it. The second occurrence (bar 19) comes towards the end of the song and is set in greater relief by leaps both to and away from it.

M.7.6(a‒b) (Full score   , MIDI   )   Almande (The Second of the Prince’s Masque)

See notes for M.7.4 (Full score   , MIDI   ). Two full consort versions are known. William Brade’s Neue Ausserlesene liebliche Banden (1617) retains the five-part single-treble scoring used by the court violin band, M.7.6(a) (Full score   , MIDI   ), though the inner parts were presumably Brade’s own, added to a tune and bass outline such as is found in London, British Library, Add. MS 10444. The second full consort version (M.7.6(b) (Full score   , MIDI   )) is in six-parts; the tenor part is lost and has been here reconstructed editorially. In the early seventeenth century, the royal wind consort used this kind of six-part, two-treble, scoring. Thus, it too is unlikely to represent how the piece sounded in the masque. Although clearly not as popular as M.7.4 (Full score   , MIDI   ), four solo arrangements of the piece are known. Although unattributed in all sources, it can be tentatively ascribed to Robert Johnson through its connection to M.7.4 (Full score   , MIDI   ).

Bibliography: Sabol, 1978; Holman, 1993. Recordings: Musicians of the Globe,1997, Track 20 (M.7.6(a) (Full score   , MIDI   )), Track 4 (M.7.6(b) (Full score   , MIDI   )).

M.7.7 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Gentle knights

‘Gentle knights’ is sung at the end of the revels (337‒44) by one of the sylvans before the exit of Oberon and the knights. The song implores the masquers to finish their dancing before morning (before the arrival of Phosphorus, the day star). Only one setting, for voice and unfigured bass, survives. It is attributed to Alfonso Ferrabosco and is likely to represent a version of that heard in the masque. However, we know from payment records that the main masque songs were accompanied by an ensemble of twenty lutes led by Robert Johnson. Arguably Ferrabosco’s finest masque song, the vocal line combines an exquisite blend of declamation and expression. The effectiveness of the setting is chiefly achieved through its simplicity, particularly in the way that the graceful melody undulates over a clear harmonic structure in the bass. (See in particular the descriptions of this song in Walls, 1996, esp. 322‒4, and Duffy, 1980.)

Ferrabosco divides the text into two sections, reflected in the ABB' structure (bars 1‒16, 17‒32, and 33‒47). The overall melodic range is a thirteenth, B¨-g', with the full (tenor) range utilized. The highest note of the range is reserved for emphasising words such as ‘bright’ and ‘fairies’. Of Ferrabosco’s masque songs, only ‘How near to good’ (Love Freed From Ignorance and Folly;M.8.3 (Full score   , MIDI   )) has a wider vocal range. The A section is declamatory in style (the slow-moving bass, the use of wide melodic intervals, the general adherence to speech patterns, and the lack of word-painting devices). The frequent rests in the vocal line allow the voice to resonate, making the song particularly suited to performance in a large room such as the Whitehall Banqueting Hall. The A section is built around the opening three-note motif (repeated notes, ascending leap). The juxtaposition of major and minor tonics (G) in the opening phrase (cf. bars 2 and 5) creates a modal ambiguity typical of Ferrabosco. The second melodic phrase (bars 7ff.) is clearly related to the opening, with the rising major sixth now expanded to an octave (and a move from tonic to mediant tonality). As the masquers withdraw the music gathers pace and begins to take on something of the character of a dance song. The vocal line becomes more elaborate in the B sections, with frequent quaver melismas especially towards the end. However, they do not clutter the texture or obscure the sense of the text: in the original performance the singer may well have added further embellishments. In the B section Ferrabosco expands the melodic and harmonic scope (e.g. note the passing reference to the relative major, E¨, in bars 17‒18). The B section is characterized by smoother melodic lines, which are often decorated by rather graceful short melismas using a scalar idea. Here Ferrabosco seems to be filling in the wide leaps of the A section providing an effortless contrast. The three-note motif of the opening is referenced towards the end of the section, at bars 30‒1. The B section is then heard again in a varied repeat. This formal idea works well in this song, providing a reprise of the more elaborate vocal line while at the same time allowing Ferrabosco to incorporate more melismas building to a real sense of climax. The climax is achieved through the overall motion of the melodic line rather than by the common technique of emphasising the highest note of the range; the highest note is heard five times (bars 15, 23, 31, 39 and 44). The final phrase brings the setting to an emphatic conclusion, by spanning a twelfth – almost the entire range of the song – from the top of the range right down to the lowest. In the reprise the last line of the text is given a more elaborate treatment.

M.7.8 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Almande (The Third of the Prince’s Masque)

See notes for M.7.4 (Full score   , MIDI   ). M.7.8 (Full score   , MIDI   ) survives in tune and bass format in London, British Library, Add. MS 10444 and in a five-part consort arrangement in William Brade’s Neue Ausserlesene liebliche Banden (1617). Although clearly not as popular as M.7.4 (Full score   , MIDI   ), two solo arrangements of the piece are known. It is unattributed in all sources, but can be tentatively ascribed to Robert Johnson through its connection to M.7.4 (Full score   , MIDI   ).

Bibliography: Thomas, 1974; Sabol, 1978; Holman, 1993.. Recording: Musicians of the Globe, 1997, Track 30.

8. Love Freed From Ignorance and Folly (1611)

M.8.1   The Fools’ Masque

As with many masque dances, it is only the name that tenuously connects M.8.1 to Love Freed. The difficulty in assigning dances on this basis is aptly demonstrated by Andrew Sabol’s conjecture that if the title were taken as singular it could refer to the dance of the She-Fool in Beaumont’s Masque of the Inner Temple and Gray’s Inn (1613), but if plural it could refer to the follies in Love Freed (1982, 573). The dance comes at the culmination of the antimasque, where ‘The FOLLIES dance, which were twelve she-fools’ (209). Whether the actual dance used, this setting is certainly typical of the type of dance required. It is unique to London, British Library, Add. MS 10444, and so survives only in two parts, tune and bass. The final strain is highly corrupt. It does not seem plausible that this was done deliberately, as a musically foolish characterization. Although the payment records show that Thomas Lupo was paid £5 for ‘setting the dances to the violens’ (i.e. for arranging the dances and compiling the inner parts) there are no records of payments relating to their composition (Masque Archive, Love Freed, 4). The dances for the masque were choreographed by Nicolas Confesse and Monsieur Bochan. Confesse was also known as a composer though any attribution of this dance to him is pure conjecture.

Bibliography: Sabol, 1978; Walls, 1996.

M.8.2 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Oh, what a fault, nay, what a sin

‘Oh, what a fault, nay what a sin’ is sung by the First Priest and a chorus after the first dance by the masquers and just before the revels. In Jonson’s masque text the song is set as a question and answer between the priest and the chorus. The sole surviving setting (for voice and unfigured bass) only has the first ‘question’, lines 338‒42. Payment records show that there were a dozen musicians that sang and played in the role of priests, which gives some indication as to the size of the chorus. We also know from payment records that the songs were composed by Alfonso Ferrabosco II (who received £20) and that the songs were set ‘to the lutes’ by Robert Johnson (Masque Archive, Love Freed, 4). This means that Johnson was responsible for compiling lute accompaniments for the masque songs. We know that in Oberon the main masque songs were accompanied by an ensemble of twenty lutes. Payment records for Love Freed show that twelve lutenists were supplied, they presumably all played in an ensemble accompanying the songs.

   Only one setting of the song text survives, in Oxford, Bodleian, Tenbury MS 1018. The chorus is excluded: a common feature of masque song dissemination. The setting is unattributed, although it is in a sequence of songs by Ferrabosco and is typical of his style. Accompaniment notwithstanding, we can be reasonably sure that the setting reflects a version of the song as sung in the masque. In common with Ferrabosco’s earlier masque songs, each of the surviving songs from Love Freed use declamatory devices within an essentially tuneful framework. As with many of Ferrabosco’s masque songs, the song is divided into two sections: A (bars 1‒11) and B (12‒23). The (treble) vocal range is an octave, g' to g". The opening of the song is quasi-declamatory, with the opening motif heard slightly modified at the start of the second phrase (cf. the opening of ‘Gentle knights’ from Oberon; M.7.7 (Full score   , MIDI   )). In the opening phrase the words ‘Oh’ and ‘nay’ are initially emphasized with long notes, but are really building to ‘fault’ and ‘sin’. Ferrabosco’s also follows the subtle change from iambic to trochaic metre in the third line (‘So much beauty’, bars 7ff.). The question with which the stanza concludes – ‘Could the world with all her cost’ – is emphasized through reiteration and by making the start of the second statement the melodic climax (bars 16‒17).

M.8.3 (Full score   , MIDI   )   How near to good is what is fair!

‘How near to good is what is fair!’ concludes the revels. A single setting survives by Alfonso Ferrabosco II, presumably representative of the version heard in the masque; the masque songs were accompanied by an ensemble of twelve lutes. Peter Walls has noted that the song represents an extreme of ‘Ferrabosco’s tendency to write angular vocal lines, which have an almost fanfare-like quality’ (1996, 59). Typically, the song is in two sections. The first (bars 1‒23) is constructed around a single leaping motif (which is rather difficult to sing), first heard on the notes of the tonic chord (bars 1‒2). Ferrabosco does not here aim to imitate natural speech: Walls terms the setting ‘heroic’. The vocal range spans two octaves, G-g'. This is the widest range of all Ferrabosco’s masque songs and suggests that the song was composed with a particular singer in mind. The melodic climax comes in bar 15 (on ‘We’), but by the end of that phrase the vocal line has descended almost two full octaves to the low A. The next phrase remains in the lower register, mirroring the obeisance of ‘What ways we may deserve’. In the second section the emphasis is firmly directed on the word ‘we’. John Duffy (1980, 172‒8) has argued that this ‘experimental’ setting presents several problems, such as the extreme vocal range and the way in which it is traversed, and Ferrabosco’s use of motivic construction which seems to undermine his sensitivity to the text. Duffy concludes (rather unfairly) that the setting ‘is both tedious and mechanical’. Although Oxford, Bodleian, Tenbury MS 1018 is generally an accurate source for these songs, the melodic perfect fifth in bar 34 is arguably better as a diminished fifth, more expressive of the ‘grief’ of the text.

APPENDIX: Possibly associated song

M.8.4A (Full score   , MIDI   ) Senses by unjust force banish’d

It is unclear whether ‘Senses by unjust force banish’d’ was part of Love Freed. The song is not included in any sources of the masque text; the only evidence relating this song to the masque comes from Oxford, Bodleian, Tenbury MS 1018, where it comes between ‘Oh, what a fault, nay, what a sin’ and ‘How near to good is what is fair’. The setting is unattributed in the manuscript but ascribed to Ferrabosco because of its position (in a sequence of Ferrabosco songs) and style. John P. Cutts (1956d) has suggested that ‘Senses by unjust’ seems to replace the dialogue between the Priest and the Chorus, and that all three songs in Tenbury 1018 are intended to be one extended song. Noting the similarity in the structures of the texts, John Duffy (1980, 169‒72) has also argued that the song is related ‘in meaning and reference’ to ‘How near to good’. The beauty of ‘How near to good’ can be interpreted as the ‘object of your pleasure’ in ‘Senses by unjust’. The supposition that the song was part of the original performance and later rejected by Jonson is also supported by Mary Chan, 1980, Andrew Sabol (1982), and Peter Walls, 1996. It has been included here for the sake of completeness.

‘Senses by unjust’ is similar in style to the two known songs from the masque (M.8.2‒3 (Full score   , MIDI   )). The (tenor) range is c to g'. The structure is bipartite. The A section (bars 1‒13) begins with imitation between the two opening melodic phrases (cf. bars 1‒2 and 6‒7), with the second phrase briefly highlighting the dominant (D major). The B section begins with a rhythmic gesture recalling the opening bars but contrasts the gentle leaps of the opening with a steady ascent to the melodic climax on g', used as the apex of a melodic curve on ‘Treasure’ (bar 16).

9. The Vision of Delight (1617)

M.9.1(a‒b) (Full score   , MIDI   )   I was not wearier where I lay

According to the masque text, the character Delight ‘spake in song (stylo recitativo)’ (4); Jonson used a similar term to describe his other masque of the same year, Lovers Made Men, F2 claims that ‘the whole masque was sung (after the Italian manner) stylo recitativo’ by Nicholas Lanier (1588‒1666), who was responsible for the scenery and the music. Although there remains confusion over the exact nature of ‘stylo recitativo’, Jonson’s (or perhaps Lanier’s) use of the term should not be confused with contemporary developments in Italy. In this context the term is better understood as an extension of the declamatory ayre (Spink, 1974).
Unfortunately almost none of the music from these two masques has survived. The only remnant is the imprecisely notated setting of ‘I was not wearier where I lay’, the last song from The Vision of Delight (222‒8), sung by Aurora after the revels. The setting (M.9.1(a) (Full score   , MIDI   )) consists only of a highly ornamented vocal line notated with little attention to rhythmic details. It gives the impression of a scribe attempting to notate either aurally or from memory (and in rough draft) an ornamented version of the song. There is an unused stave below the vocal line, with a sixth line hand-drawn under the start of the second stave, suggesting a lute (or, less likely, a lyra-viol) accompaniment. The setting offers valuable information of the style in which singers may have embellished vocal melodies in masque performances, such virtuosity clearly emphasising the individual. There seems little reason to doubt that this setting closely resembles that heard in the masque. However, some doubt may be cast upon the oft-repeated attribution of the song to Nicholas Lanier. There is no evidence whatever to suggest that Lanier composed music for the masque. The only record of musicians in the masque refers to the payment of £100 to twelve French musicians led by Pierce Parminit (although Peter Walls suggests that the payment may refer to Marc de Maillet’s Balet de la revanche du mespris d’Amour, devised for the English court, and to the visit of the French ambassador: see Masque Archive, Vis. Del., 10, and Walls, 1996, 229‒30).
Despite the florid ornamentation, the basic structure of the song is reasonably clear allowing reconstruction,M.9.1(b) (Full score   , MIDI   ) (editorial reconstructions also in Cutts, 1956a; Emslie, 1960; Sabol 1982; Spink, 1974; Callon, 1994).

10. Pleasure Reconciled to Virtue (1618) and For the Honour of Wales (1618)

M.10.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )      The Goats’ Masque

No vocal music survives from Please Reconciled to Virtue or from its revised outing as For the Honour of Wales. We can, however, conjecture as to some of the instrumental music. A candidate for ‘The Goats’ Masque’ from For the Honour of Wales is found in London, British Library, Add. MS 10444, where it is followed by three ‘Prince’s Dances’ (see also notes for M.10.2‒4). As ever, we can only posit a tentative association with the masque, based primarily on the titles in Add. 10444 and by the position of the dances within the manuscript (which appear to have been compiled in a roughly chronological order). The argument is circular, though in the absence of any better alternatives or other known masques of the period involving princes and goats the tentative association should perhaps be allowed stand.

The ‘Goats’ Masque’ was part of the revised antimasque in which characterizations of the Welsh replaced the pygmies. The antimasque is introduced by Jenkin, who tells us that the ‘Welse goat is an excellent dancer by birth’ (275): the comic dance of goats soon follows. The multi-strain dance is fairly typical of antimasque dances, with its often angular melody line, changing time-signatures, and harmonic shifts.

Bibliography: Chan, 1980; Sabol, 1978.

M.10.2‒4   (M.10.2) The First of the Prince’s Masques; (M.10.3) The Second [of the Prince’s Masques]; (M.10.4) The Third [of the Prince’s Masques]

See also notes for M.10.1 (Full score   , MIDI   ). These three ‘Prince’s’ dances (titled ‘The First . . . Second . . . Third of the Prince’s Masques’) have been ascribed to Pleasure Reconciled to Virtue (Chan, 1980; Sabol, 1978) solely on the grounds that they are preceded in London, British Library, Add. MS 10444 by the ‘Goats’ Masque’ (M.10.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )).

A partial concordance for M.10.3 (first two bars only) is also found as no. 8 of William Brade’s Newe ausserlesene liebliche Branden (Hamburg, 1617), ‘Des jungen Prinzen Intrada’ (‘The young Prince’s Intrada’; Thomas, 1974, no. 40), where it is transposed down a tone. Intradas are instrumental pieces, typically found for ensemble; in terms of function they were used to accompany an entrance, to being festivities, or at the start of a suite. The two pieces with which it evidently forms a suite in Brade’s collection are not connected to the M.10.2 or M.10.4 settings from Add. 10444, nor do the titles particularly relate to this masque (though Brade’s titles often differ to those found in English sources). No. 7 is titled ‘Der Königinnen Intrada’ (‘The Queens’ Intrada’; Thomas, 1974, no. 5), no. 9 ‘Intrada der Jungen Princessinnen’ (‘Intrada of the young princes’; Thomas, 1974, no. 6). Although ‘The Goats’ Masque’ was a new addition for the revised performance, the main masque dances are likely to have been the same for both versions of the masque. The (partial) appearance of the M.10.3 in Brade’s collection obviously precedes the performances of the masque. It serves to demonstrate how such masque dances were composed from stock melodic patterns.

Bibliography: B. Thomas, 1974; Chan, 1980; Sabol, 1978; Grove Music Online (D. Fuller and P. Downey, ‘Intrada’).

11. News from the New World Discovered in the Moon (1620)

M.11.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )      The Birds’ Dance

The only potential candidate to have survived from News from the New World is the antimasque dance of Volatees (Jonson’s bird-like creatures from the moon). The (tune and bass) setting is unique to London, British Library, Add. MS 10444, where it is titled ‘The Birds Dance’. The association of this particular dance to News from the New World is tenuously based primarily on the titles in Add. 10444 and by the position of the dances within the manuscript (which appears to have been compiled in a roughly chronological order). In terms of general style, M.11.1 (Full score   , MIDI   ) is certainly typical of antimasque dances; its full effect would, as ever, been realized through the choreography rather than through the music alone.

Bibliography: Sabol, 1978; Walls, 1996.

12. The Gypsies Metamorphosed (1621)

M.12.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )      The Gypsies’ Masque

A tune and bass setting is found in London, British Library, Add. MS 10444 titled ‘The Gypsies’ Masque’; the connection with the masque is tentative and relies solely on this titular association. The setting was popular, and also survives in arrangements for lute and for keyboard.

Two dances are called for in the antimasque. The first, at the entrance of the Captain, is introduced by the Jackman with a call to ‘Give me my guittarra’ (48), which is followed by the Jackman’s song ‘From the Famous Peak of Derby’ (M.12.2 (Full score   , MIDI   )). The ‘Second Dance’ (188) is divided into six strains each interspersed with dialogue and songs. This apparently unique treatment of individual strains as single entities seems to call for a dance with six strains. There are multi-strain dances in Add. 10444 but only one carries a titular reference to gypsies. It only has five strains (rather than six), but of course any one of the strains could have been repeated or indeed could have been omitted in the process of dissemination. Nevertheless, such arguments are of course rather circular; the suggested association remains tentative.

Bibliography: Sabol, 1978; Walls, 1996.

M.12.2 (Full score   , MIDI   )      From the famous peak of Derby

The music of The Gypsies Metamorphosed is generally attributed to Nicholas Lanier on the grounds of a payment record. Payments were made on behalf of George Villiers, Marquis of Buckingham to Jonson and Lanier on 21 August 1621, the day after the second presentation of the masque. Jonson received £100, Lanier £200 (Masque Archive, Gypsies, 5). These sums are large; especially so when we consider that an average court musician earned around £40 a year. (Lanier was of course no average court musician; upon his appointment as Master of the Music in 1625 he was granted an annuity of £100.) Lanier’s notably large remuneration suggests that he may have played a considerable role in staging the masque. Composition of some of the music may have been one duty, though Lanier was also a seasoned performer and a talented painter. It certainly seems that Lanier was not responsible for all of the music; a least one of the antimasque songs is by Robert Johnson, who would presumably also have composed any instrumental music. Thus we can perhaps only infer that Lanier played an important role in the overall staging of the masque, and in this way may also have incurred costs which had to be covered. Sabol (1982) suggested that Lanier may have taken the role of the Patrico. Herford and Simpson (7.551) argued that Buckingham took this role, with his brother-in-law Lord Feilding as the second gypsy, and the poet Endymion Porter taking the role of the third gypsy. In point of fact, Buckingham actually appears to have taken the role of the Captain. It seems most likely that Lanier took the role of the Jackman, especially so if we are to assume that he also accompanied himself on the ‘guittara’ (Lanier was an accomplished lutenist, as was Johnson).
All four surviving settings from The Gypsies Metamorphosed are simple, popular-style songs from the antimasque. The first song, ‘From the famous Peak of Derby’ (53‒64) (M.12.2 (Full score   , MIDI   )) is used to advertize the wares and talents of the antimasquers, and is sung by the Jackman. Although no specific reference is made to an accompaniment he calls for his ‘guittara’ before the song, which seems to imply that it was used in the song. The guitar was introduced to England in the mid-sixteenth century (sources suggest the normal four-course instrument: see Tyler, 2002, 24‒9). Jonson’s specific use of the instrument suggests that it retained a perceived exoticism, for court audiences at least. Although the only known setting of ‘From the famous Peak of Derby’ was printed in 1673 (where it is ascribed to Robert Johnson), the style of the song is much earlier and is perfectly suited to the masque. It can be attributed to the original performance with reasonable certainty. Much of the song alternates between two triple metres. At the start of phrases we tend to get a 3/2 pulse (three minim beats) and at the end of phrases a 3/4 pulse (three crotchet beats); the implied 3/2 bars are indicated in the score by dashed barlines. As Peter Walls has noted, the aural effect of the abrupt metrical shifts ‘gives the whole song a robust character which is obviously suited to the antimasque’ (1996, 274). The song’s essential charm comes from its simplicity. The tuneful melody is easily singable and throughout moves in the same rhythm as the bass, reinforcing the rustic effect but also adding to its rather rambunctious character. Simple chords for the guitar could have been easily improvised in performance.

M.12.3 (Full score   , MIDI   )      To the old, long life and treasure

See also notes for M.12.2 (Full score   , MIDI   ). The second song to survive from the masque is ‘To the old, long life and treasure’, ‘Song 3’ of the antimasque sung between the first and second strains of ‘Dance 2’. The song comes immediately after the gypsy captain (probably played by Buckingham) has told King James’s fortune. The only seventeenth-century setting survives unattributed in a late manuscript; however, in terms of its simple and popular style, it may well have been that used in the masque. Gordon Callon included M.12.3 (Full score   , MIDI   ) in his edition of Nicholas Lanier’s complete works (Callon, 1994), in an appendix of ‘Music of Doubtful Authenticity’. Callon’s caution was advisable, as the attribution must remain conjecture; the only thing linking Lanier to the song is the assertion that he was responsible for composing the music for the masque (see notes for M.12.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )). The tune to which the song is set is also found in John Playford’s The English Dancing Master (1651), titled ‘A Health’. No music survives for ‘Song 2’, and Andrew Sabol (1982, 556) has suggested that songs 2 and 3 may have both been sung to the same tune. Though not impossible, another popular tune is equally (if not more) likely.

In a similar manner to ‘From the famous peak of Derby’, the setting plays with the basic pulse by employing syncopation at the end of the first two phrases on the words ‘treasure’ and ‘pleasure’. The brief setting (only 8 bars) is typical of many popular tunes of the period, with primarily stepwise movement and simple underlying harmonies (although the range – a tenth, d′-f′′ – is wider than one would normally expect in the popular repertoire, highlighting the song’s artifice as a representation of a popular idiom).

A three-voice catch setting of the text by Samuel Webbe (1740‒1816), an associate of R. J. S. Stevens, survives in London, British Library, Add. MS 31806, where it is dated 1774 (M.12.6A (Full score   , MIDI   )). Webbe is generally considered to be the most important composer of the glee; his lifetime almost perfectly covers the rise, development and decline of the genre. He began his association with the Noblemen’s and Gentlemen’s Catch and Glee Club (generally known as the Catch Club) by at least 1766, the year in which he won his first annual prize medal. The club awarded these annual medals to encourage new compositions. In 1771 he was elected a Privileged Member of the club, and succeeded Thomas Warren as secretary of the club in 1784, a post he held until 1812. This Jonson song is one of several hundred catches, canons, rounds, and glees composed by Webbe. Typical of many of his lighter three-voice catches, it was also one of his prize-winning ones, taking the Prize Medal in 1774.

M.12.4 (Full score   , MIDI   )      Why, this is a sport

The only known setting for ‘Why, this is a sport’ (450‒75) is attributed to Edmund Chilmead (1610‒54), which means that it was not part of the original masque. Andrew Sabol (1982, 556), apparently following John P. Cutts, who re-attributed the setting to Robert Johnson (1959a), suggested that Chilmead was only the copyist and that the song was actually composed by Nicholas Lanier. This is a considerable stretch of the evidence and should be understood as another expression of the appetite for reconstruction that characterized much research into masque music in the 1960s and 1970s (see also the Introduction to the Music Edition). The song was in fact copied by Edward Lowe (c. 1610–82), who was well connected in musical circles: there is no reason to doubt his attribution to Chilmead. Lowe was organist of the Chapel Royal from 1661 until his death in 1682; at the same time he was also the Professor of Music at Oxford University, succeeding the court musician and composer John Wilson. Mary Chan (1978; 1979a) has added to the confusion by acknowledging the attribution to Chilmead as correct, but at the same time suggesting that is evidence that at least part of the masque was revived during the closure of the theatres, 1642‒60. Although masque-type entertainments were staged during the closure of the theatres to avoid the ban on spoken drama, a revival of Gypsies seems highly unlikely; it is wrong-headed to interpret each instance of a notated setting of a play-song or masque song as being in some way evidence of an otherwise undocumented revival. The most obvious explanation (which applies also more widely) is that the Chilmead version of ‘Why, this is a sport’ is part of the tradition of setting isolated song text from the masques and plays that we see especially during the 1630s and 1640s.

M.12.3 (Full score   , MIDI   ) is for treble (by implication, the Jackman) and bass (the Patrico) voices, with unfigured bass. This further indicates removal from the masque context, as in performance the role of the Jackman would presumably have been sung by a tenor-range singer (though of course the treble clef music could be transposed down the octave). The setting follows the equal distribution of the text among the two singers, established in Jonson’s text. The harmonic bass line of the chorus section is lacking. In the manuscript the song is written on two staves only (to save space because the voices alternate), the implication being that the bass of the final section where both voices come together would essentially have doubled the bass voice.

M.12.5/1‒2   Cock Lorel would needs have the devil his guest (Tune: An old man is a bed full of bones)

The coarse satirical song of ‘Cock Lorel’ (given as ‘Cook Lorel’ in several later sources) is sung shortly before the transformation of the gypsies. The Patrico announces that it will be sung by his clerk, who will ‘Make a merry, merry noise / To these mad country boys’ (690‒1), the country bumpkins of the masque. As Peter Walls (1996, 274) has observed, Jonson’s use of a ballad to narrate the gypsies’ history serves to emphasize the comedic effect of what he calls the ‘inverted hierarchy’ of the antimasque characters.
The roguish character of Cock (or Cook) Lorel was already (in)famous by 1621. Although the common ballad tune ‘Packington’s Pound’ (see P.7.1/1 (Full score   , MIDI   )) is often attributed to ‘Cock Lorel’ the music to which the ballad was sung in Jonson’s masque is not clear. A more likely candidate is the tune ‘An old man is a bed full of bones’ (M.12.5/1 (Full score   , MIDI   )), which is found in most editions of John Playford’s The English Dancing Master (though with no association made to ‘Cock Lorel’). It is worth noting that Playford was well connected among court musicians and also published a good deal of masque music in his two-part collections, Court-Ayres (1655) and Courtly Masquing Ayres (1662). ‘An old man is a bed full of bones’ is first found with Jonson’s text in Thomas D’Urfey, Wit and Mirth; (1700); it appears in all editions (in the 1719‒20 edition it is given three times). The tune was highly popular well into the eighteenth century, appearing on many broadsides (see C. Simpson, 1966; JnB 430). Jonson’s text was also widely disseminated.
As demonstrated by the editorial underlay in M.12.5/2 (Full score   , MIDI   ), setting the words to the tune requires some licence in terms of lengthening some notes in iambic metre and shortening some in anapaestic (cf. Sabol, 1978, no. 31).

13. The Masque of Augurs (1622)

M.13.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )   The Bears’ Dance

One of the many tune and bass settings in London, British Library, Add. MS 10444 is titled ‘The Beares Dance’. The connection with antimasque of The Masque of Augurs is tentative and relies solely on this titular association. The antimasque consists of several antimasques-within-an-antimasque occasioned by the various characters from the area of St Katherine’s. One is performed by bears, as the bearward John Urson sings ‘Though it may seem rude’ (M.13.2 (Full score   , MIDI   )). Jonson’s masque text does not explicitly call for a dance by the bears. However, before the entry of ‘John Urson with his bears, singing’ (124) Notch describes the antimasque: ‘we have borrowed three very bears, that . . . are well bred, and can dance to present the sign, and the bearward to stand for the signpost’ (103‒5). Slug adds, ‘Very sufficient bears . . . and can dance at first sight and play their own tunes, if need be. Urson offers to play them with any city dancers christened, for a ground measure’ (107‒10). This strongly suggests that the bears entered dancing, perhaps to this tune.

Gordon Callon included M.13.1 (Full score   , MIDI   ) in his edition of Nicholas Lanier’s complete works (Callon, 1994, 189). Relegating it to an Appendix of ‘Music of Doubtful Authenticity’, he tentatively attributed it to either Lanier or Alfonso Ferrabosco on the grounds that they composed the vocal music for the masque. There is however nothing to suggest that the piece was composed by either Lanier or Ferrabosco. Indeed, it was more common for the masque dances to be composed by someone other than the composer(s) of the vocal music. The setting was popular, and also survives in arrangements for lute and for keyboard.

M.13.2/1‒2   Though it may seem rude

‘Though it may seem rude’ is a good example of Jonson’s use of ballad tunes. Sung by the bearward, John Urson, the ballad tune has been succinctly described as ‘a plain and inconspicuous vehicle for the words’ (Walls, 1996, 83). The tune is commonly known as ‘Eighty-Eight’, though in early sources it is also known as ‘Jog on’ and ‘Hansken’ (see C. Simpson, 1966, 392‒4;M.13.2/1) (Full score   , MIDI   ). Based on its appearance in Joachim van den Hove’s Florida, sive cantiones (Utrecht, 1601) with the title ‘Hansken is so fraeyen gesel’, John Ward suggested that the tune is likely to have originated in the Lowlands (see Ward, 1967). Indicative of the challenges involved in understanding ballad tunes in such entertainments, Claude Simpson also identifies two other unrelated tunes by the name ‘Eighty-eight’.
The tune is also a country dance apparently performed as part of Time Vindicated to Himself and to his Honours (see notes for M.14.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )). The version of the tune used in this edition is taken from Thomas D’Urfey’s Wit and Mirth (1719), the earliest version of the tune to also carry the words (though not underlain). As demonstrated by the editorial underlay in M.13.2/2 (Full score   , MIDI   ), setting the words to the tune requires some licence in terms of lengthening some notes in iambic metre and shortening some in anapaestic (cf. Sabol, 1978, no. 32).
Bibliography: C. Simpson, 1966; Ward, 1967; Sabol, 1978; Walls, 1996. Recording: King’s Noyse, 1994, Track 7 (‘Jog On’).

M.13.3 (Full score   , MIDI   )      Do not expect to hear of all

‘Do not expect to hear of all’ is sung by Apollo to the King after the revels. The vocal music for Augurs was composed by Alonso Ferrabosco and Nicholas Lanier, whom Jonson described as ‘that excellent pair of kinsmen’ in the quarto text. The only surviving setting of M.13.3 (Full score   , MIDI   ) is attributed to Lanier, and seems likely to represent some form of the song as it was heard in the masque. The setting does not include the final three lines of Jonson’s text, which were presumably sung by a chorus in the masque.

While Lanier was an able composer his output is somewhat uneven; this setting is not among his best work. It is in two sections. The first uses the declamatory figure. As Mary Chan, (1980, 295 n.31) observes, the first strain does little to approximate the natural speech patterns (what Peter Walls would term ‘anti-declamatory’), a defect compounded by the repetition of lines 4‒6 using the same music as lines 1‒3. See, for example, the melodic cadence at bar 2 (lines 326 and 329), the long tied note at bars 4‒5 (line 327), and the melodic leap of a minor sixth in bar 6, all of which serve to distort the sense of the text. The second strain (bars 8‒21) is more closely allied to the meaning and rhythms of the text. There is little sense of melodic climax, as the top note of the range, e¨", is heard in bars 4, 17 and 19. Rather the climax is suggested by the e¨" on ‘son’ (bar 17) combined with a melodic pause and the introduction of melodic embellishments in the final bars.
Bibliography: Emslie, 1953; Chan, 1980; Sabol, 1978; Callon, 1994; Walls, 1996. Recording: Agnew and Wilson, 1999, Track 8.

14. Time Vindicated to Himself and to his Honours (1623)

M.14.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )      Half Hannikin

The Office-book of the Master of the Revels, Sir John Astley (1622‒3) includes a contemporary description of Time Vindicated, which notes that ‘The Prince [Charles] did lead the measures with the French Ambassador’s wife’ and that ‘the measures, braules, corrantos and galliards being ended, the Masquers, with the ladyes, did daunce 2 contrey daunces, namely, The Soldiers Marche, and Huff Hamukin’ (Masque Archive, Time Vind., 2). William Chappell (1855‒9, 1.73) suggested that ‘Huff Hamukin’ was the popular tune ‘Half Hannikin’, found in various guises in several seventeenth-century sources (manuscript and printed) including all editions of John Playford’s The English Dancing Master from 1651 to 1690. A Hankin or Hannikin was a common name for a clown. The tune is related to the tune ‘Eighty-Eight’ also known as ‘Jog on’ and ‘Hansken’, by which names it survives in earlier sources (see C. Simpson, 1966, 392‒4 and notes for M.13.2 (Full score   , MIDI   )).
Bibliography: C. Simpson, 1966; Lane, 1989; Spring, 2001; Burgers, 2009. Recording: King’s Noyse, 1994, Track 7 (‘Jog On’).

15. The Fortunate Isles and their Union (1625)

M.15.1/1‒2 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Come, noble nymphs, and do not hide

‘Come, noble nymphs, and do not hide’ is the final song of the main masque and is directly followed by the revels. Two settings are known, neither of which can be firmly attributed to performances of the masque. M.15.1/2 (Full score   , MIDI   ) was printed in John Playford’s Select Ayres and Dialogues (1659; reprinted in The Treasury of Music , 1669), where it is attributed to William Webb. In the masque text the song is shared among three singers, Proteus, Saron, and Portunus. Webb chose to reflect this division of labour by changing the time-signature at the entry of each singer, from duple to triple and back to duple. This only applies to the first stanza; the division falls differently in the subsequent stanzas. The setting does nothing to distinguish the ‘chorus’ ending. There is some question as to whether the setting could have been used in an original performance of the masque. The earliest records of Webb (c. 1600‒57) show him playing theorbo in James Shirley’s elaborate Inns of Court masque The Triumph of Peace (1634). However, Ian Spink (1986) has argued that several other songs by Webb are found in manuscripts that date from around the time of Neptune’s Triumph (early 1624). Moreover, in the prints the song is suggestively headed ‘At a Masque, to invite the Ladies to a Dance’ (though with no more specific reference to the masque or indeed to Jonson).

M.15.1/1 (Full score   , MIDI   ) treats the text as a single unit, with no indication of the alternating singers. It is the more accomplished of the two settings, particularly in the close adherence of the vocal line rhythms to the natural speech accents. The setting is simple in style. A quasi-declamatory effect has clearly been attempted (note the use of the stock rhythm of at the start of the first three phrases). The manuscript in which the setting is found, Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Donc. c.57, was probably copied in the early 1630s and includes several songs from plays performed between 1614 and 1622. The implication is that the anonymous setting could also be from the original performance. Although concluding that neither setting ‘does complete justice to Jonson’s fine poem’, Peter Walls suggests that ‘It is possible that one was written for the planned performance Neptune’s Triumph and that the other was a new setting for The Fortunate Isles(1996, 73‒5). A plausible suggestion, though one cannot rule out the possibility that one or both were conceived independently of the masque performance.

16 . The King’s Entertainment at Welbeck (1633)

M.16.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )      What softer sounds are these

The only known setting of ‘What softer sounds are these’ is by William Lawes (1602‒45). His setting only includes lines 3‒16, and has some minor deviations from the masque text, most notably in the last line, where ‘our great, good King’ has been changed to ‘our Royal King’. Otherwise the most notable deviation is in the distribution of the parts. In the masque text the song is described as ‘a dialogue between the Passions, doubt and love, [accompanied by the] Chorus of Affections, joy, delight, [and] jollity’. Doubt and Love share the first eight lines, Joy, Delight, and Jollity lines 9‒14, with ‘All’ singing the final couplet. Lawes retains the dialogue format, even citing the characters as ‘Joy’ and ‘Delight’. Notwithstanding the character changes, Lawes follows the distribution of the voices in the masque text for line 3‒11. Thereafter he takes some licence but does introduce a chorus for the final couplet.

   These discrepancies have been used to cast doubt on Lawes’s composing of the song for the original entertainment. Peter Walls has argued against this interpretation, noting that Lawes’s musical settings frequently depart from the known masque texts; he cites examples from The Triumph of Peace and Britannia Triumphans. While this is true, one cannot be evidence for the other. It is important to understand that the masques to which Walls refers are found in one of Lawes’s autograph scorebooks, which contains compositional drafts with texts given only in incipits. By contrast, ‘What softer sounds are these’ is found in his autograph songbook (London, British Library, Add. MS 31432), compiled c. 1639‒41. Thus, the setting can at best be described as a late adaptation. The songbook seems to have been compiled for didactic purposes, a source from which students could make their own copies (see Cunningham, 2010). As can be observed throughout the repertoire, masque songs were frequently adapted for dissemination in domestic songbooks. Caution notwithstanding, it is certainly possible that Lawes contributed music to the Welbeck entertainment. Unfortunately we know very little of his activities in the years before his royal appointment in 1635. However, by 1633 Lawes had earned a strong reputation as a composer and was mixing in courtly circles, as demonstrated by his commission to compose some of the music for The Triumph of Peace (performed February 1634). Indeed, his autograph songbook also contains a setting of ‘In envy of the night’ from The Triumph of Peace which also seems to be an adaptation of the ‘original’ (and which also includes several textual changes).

NON-DRAMATIC VERSE (N)

1. Epigrams (1616)

N.1.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )      Underneath this stone doth lie

See also notes for M.6.7 (Full score   , MIDI   )A. The glee is found in one of the autograph manuscript collections of Richard John Samuel Stevens (1757‒1837), Glasgow, Euing Music Library, MS R.d.94. According to a note in the manuscript (and in his manuscript ‘Recollections’), the glee was composed in 1782, though this, the only known source, was copied a decade or so later. Stevens set only four lines from Jonson’s original poem, ‘Epitaph on Elizabeth, L. H.’. The first line he took directly from Jonson; the remaining lines are more or less loosely derived. The ‘Recollections’ give no further information other than the year of composition. The short setting is a charming and effective piece. After a homophonic opening, Stevens introduces an imitative texture for the second line, as well as an expressive diminished seventh chord in bar 6, and the leap of an augmented fifth in the Tenor 2 of the next bar: all presumably intended to reflect the introduction of death. In the next line of text, he represents the word ‘vigour’ through the dotted rhythms, before reintroducing a simple imitative texture for the final line (note the reintroduction of the diminished seventh interval in bar 14, above the longer-range chromatically rising bass line). Stevens unsuccessfully submitted the glee to the Catch Club for consideration of a Prize Medal, at the end of 1782.

As Mark Argent (1992), 22 notes, glee singing was strongly associated with the Anglican choral tradition in which Alto parts were sung by men and Soprano parts by boys. The Alto and Tenor parts of glees were typically written in c-clefs, or in the treble clef and sung an octave lower than written pitch. Soprano parts were sung by women or boys. The Catch Club did not admit women for the medals competitions, which means that any Soprano parts would have been taken by boys or male Altos. Outside the Catch Club such parts could well have been taken by women.
Bibliography: Argent, 1992.

2. The Forest (1616)

N.2.1/1‒6 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Drink to me only with thine eyes

Probably Jonson’s most enduring and famous lyric, ‘Drink to me only with thine eyes’ has been a popular English song text since the early eighteenth century. The first two lines of the poem even made their way into visual culture, for example, the hand-coloured etching by Richard Newton (1777‒98) depicting a caricature of a seated man and woman, with her holding up a glass and him smiling (1797).

The origins of N.2.1/1 (Full score   , MIDI   ) are unknown, although it appears to date from around 1770. The setting was published (in various arrangements) throughout the late eighteenth, nineteenth, and twentieth centuries. The majority of early prints are three-voice glees, and are difficult to date (none was entered in the Stationers’ Register) although most appear to have been printed in the 1780s or so. It seems to have been this setting that, in her diary for the year 1782, Frances Burney recalled being sung by the two daughters of the Dean of Winchester; she describes it as ‘a very pretty little old song’ (Ellis, 1889, 2.298‒9). William Chappell noted that her father, Charles Burney, was among those who tried unsuccessfully to identify the composer of the song; several composers have been posited. There is nothing to merit the attribution to Mozart (though it says something of the high esteem in which the tune was held by the early nineteenth century). John Wall Callcott (1766‒1821), who included the setting in his A Selection of Catches, Canons and Glees (c. 1790), has also been suggested (Fuld, 2000). Another name often associated with the setting is Colonel R. Mellish (1777‒1817). For obvious reasons he may be eliminated from the enquiry, though to judge from the number of references he evidently played an important role in popularising the setting.
It seems that the most likely suspect is Dr Henry Harington (1727‒1816). Harington was a founder member of the Bath Harmonic Society, and minor, but well known, composer of glees (little research has been done on Harington, though he is an interesting example of a successful amateur composer). In A Select Collection of Songs (Newcastle-upon-Tyne, 1806) the song text is given with an attribution to Harington. W. Grattan Flood (1925) first suggested Harington, based on the attribution in A Select Collection of Songs (see also Fuld, 2000). But perhaps the most interesting lead is a collection of Six Glees Composed by an Amateur and Most respectfully Inscribed to Miss Fisher, published by William Napier (copy consulted: Oxford, Bodleian Library, Harding Mus. E.570). No. 5 of the short collection is ‘Drink to me only with thine eyes’, with an attribution of the text to Jonson. The collection is undated, though it must have been issued between 1772 and 1790, when Napier’s shop was located at 474 The Strand (the address given), at the corner of Lancaster Court. Another text in the collection, ‘Altho’ soft sleep death’s near resemblance wears’, was also set by R. J. S. Stevens in 1789. The identity of Miss Fisher is unclear. It may, however, be the celebrated courtesan Catherine Maria Fischer, a.k.a. Kitty Fisher (1741?–1767). At her funeral in Bath, she was laid to rest in her finest dress. The event seems to have inspired a three-voice song by Harington, ‘An Elegy: on Kitty Fisher Lying in State at Bath’. Harington was born at Kelston near Bath. By 1771 he moved to Bath, where he had a medical practice (he originally trained for the clergy). He published four collections of glees c. 1780 (hence the British Library catalogue dates his Fisher elegy to ‘1780?’), though other single songs were published in the 1770s. The evidence, circumstantial though it is, seems compelling. Harington would have considered himself an amateur composer; he may have wished to remain anonymous if Fisher was indeed the dedicatee. Whoever the composer, the same tune was also used by Sir Walter Scott (1771‒1832) for the song ‘County Guy’. Arrangements of the song were also included in the collections of Joseph Ritson (1813, 3.108‒11) and William Chappell (1855‒9, 2.707). American editions also began to appear in 1780s (for details, see Sonneck, 1945). The setting has remained popular to the present day, and has been recorded by many popular music figures including Paul Robeson (1898‒1976), Johnny Cash (1932‒2003), and Aretha Franklin (b.1942).
The anonymous Setting 2 (N.2.1/2 (Full score   , MIDI   )), unique to London, British Library Add, MS 29386 a manuscript copied by Edmund Thomas Warren-Horne (c. 1730‒94), dates to c. 1730 in terms of style. The lack of attribution is particularly frustrating in this case given the high quality of the setting. Setting 3 (N.2.1/3 (Full score   , MIDI   )) was composed by the otherwise unknown ‘Mr Andrews’. This could perhaps be the same ‘Mr Andrews, of Barn Elms’ at whose town house G. F. Handel stayed (according to Sir John Hawkins) upon his return to London in 1712 (see Grigson, 2009). Setting 4 (N.2.1/4 (Full score   , MIDI   )) was probably printed around the middle of the eighteenth century. James Oswald (1710‒69) was in business as a music publisher from 1747–c. 1762. Setting 5 ( N.2.1/5 (Full score   , MIDI   )) is another glee; it was published around the turn of the nineteenth century in the posthumous Works of Thomas Linley Senior (1733‒95) and Junior (1756‒78). In terms of style, the setting seems likely to date from c. 1760‒70. Setting 6 (N.2.1/6 (Full score   , MIDI   )) appears to date to c. 1730: it too is unattributed.
According to Grattan Flood, the English folksong collector Frank Kidson (1855‒1926) claimed to have another setting of the words in a folio manuscript collection of songs dated 1782 among the items in his personal library (see Flood, 1925, 73). Although the description does not match any known setting, Kidson’s private library, now in the Mitchell Library, Glasgow, remains largely unstudied. One must of course be guarded against taking Grattan Flood on his word.

The range of settings included in this edition demonstrates the popularity of this lyric throughout the eighteenth century, though one wonders what the exact catalyst was. No doubt further versions could be uncovered if an exhaustive and systematic search were undertaken (this is regrettably beyond the scope of the current edition). The song text is found in various collections from the mid‒1750s onwards, such as The Muses Delight: An Accurate Collection of English and Italian Songs, Cantatas and Duetts (Liverpool, 1754).

2. The Underwood (1641)

N.3.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Hear me, O God!

Jonson’s poem ‘A Hymn to God the Father’ appears in several sources set by Alfonso Ferrabosco II (d. 1628) to his famous ‘four-note pavan’. It has been it has been erroneously described as a five-voice ‘anthem’ (Emslie, 1953; Reichert, 1983; I. Donaldson, 1985: see also the discussion in Field & Pinto, 2003). It has also been described as a consort song (i.e. song for one or more voices with obbligato accompaniment for instruments, usually a viol consort); however, this is also slightly misleading, as the words were added to a pre-existing dance tune (rather than being composed as a song with an ensemble accompaniment). Indeed, although literary scholars have tended to assume that Ferrabosco fitted the tune around Jonson’s words, Christopher D. S. Field and David Pinto have convincingly demonstrated that the setting is a contrafactum: i.e. the words have been set to a pre-existing tune with little or no alteration to the music (2003, xxxiii-xxxiv, 237‒9).

The ‘four-note pavan’ is one of Ferrabosco’s most famous works. The ‘four-note’ title arises from the motif heard throughout the uppermost part. Field and Pinto have convincingly shown that Jonson’s words were associated with the pavan by c. 1616 and that several early manuscript copies of the consort song – the earliest sources of the poem – contain several significant differences to the text printed in The Underwood. If Jonson’s text is sung in full the music must be played right through twice (internal repeats of strains being optional: ||:A|B|C:||), whereas the instrumental version would have each strain repeated in turn (||:A:||B:||C:||).

‘Hear me, O God!’ has been edited in Field & Pinto, 2003, conflating all known sources; thus, the present edition uses only a single source, London, British Library, Egerton MS 3665. This source was chosen because it was copied in the second decade of the seventeenth century, it is an accurate source for the consort version, and because it gives Jonson’s text complete. For further information on the instrumental version and its sources, see Field & Pinto, 2003. Ferrabosco’s setting is also found arranged as a lute-song (i.e. voice with lute accompaniment) in London, British Library, MS Egerton 2013 (JnB 314). However, this version is highly corrupt, best described as a clumsy, amateurish arrangement of little more than historical interest (transcribed in Spink, 1966a, and in Lewalski & Sabol, 1973; see also Field & Pinto, 2003, 283).
Bibliography: Emslie, 1953; Spink, 1966a; Lewalski & Sabol, 1973; Reichert, 1983; Donaldson, 1985; Ashbee, 1998 (‘Ferrabosco II, Alfonso’); Field & Pinto, 2003. Recordings: Hespèrion XXI, Track 13 (instrumental version); Ricercar Consort, 2008, Track 18 (consort song version).

N.3.2 (Full score   , MIDI   )   See, the chariot at hand here of Love

See also P.8.1(a‒e) (Full score   , MIDI   ). ‘See, the chariot at hand here of Love’ (which contains the more famous stanza beginning ‘Have you seen but a white lily grow’), found in New York, New York Public Library, Drexel MS 4257, is the only musical setting of Jonson’s poem to give the three stanzas which appear in The Underwood (24.1‒30). The first stanza is underlain; stanzas 2 and 3 are given in block text. Drexel 4257 was compiled by John Gamble (d. 1687), who had worked in the King’s Company before the closure of the theatres in the early 1640s. The date 1659 is found at the start of the manuscript, although it was presumably in use for several years either side of this. Many of the songs were composed in the 1630s and 1640s and several others contain topical political references to events in the Commonwealth and early Restoration periods. This rather uninspired setting may be Gamble’s own. It includes no vocal embellishments like those found in the earlier settings of the third stanza (see The Devil Is an Ass;P.8.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )); the lack of vocal ornaments is typical of the mid-century vogue towards declamatory settings with an emphasis on the text.

Whoever the composer, he does not seem to have used the 1641 printing of Jonson’s text as a source. There are several telling variants between the two texts, especially in the two stanzas given in the play text, The Devil Is an Ass, published in 1631. Of course, the possibility remains that the composer altered Jonson’s text to suit his own tastes or needs, something Gamble was prone to doing; he could also have been working from memory. For example, the Drexel 4257 version alters the metre of line 17 from nine to eight syllables, but does so without changing the meaning or rhyme scheme. Similar alterations of beats in the poetic text are found throughout the setting. Based on the compositional style and the position of the song in the manuscript, a terminus post quem of c. 1641 seems appropriate for the setting.

Bibliography: Duckles, 1953b. Recording: Baird & McFarlane, 2000, Track 20.

N.3.3 (Full score   , MIDI   )   For Love’s sake, kiss me once again

The unique setting of ‘For Love’s sake, kiss me once again’ was identified by Pamela Willetts in her study of London, British Library Add. MS 56279, ‘Sylvanus Stirrop’s Book’ (see Willetts, 1972 and 1974). The song section of the manuscript dates from around the 1620s. Thus the setting predates the earliest printed text by a decade or so, which is interesting considering the number of minor textual variants. The manuscript contains no ascriptions. In the Grove Music Online entry on Ben Jonson, Andrew Sabol plausibly suggested that the song is by Robert Johnson (d. 1633). To be sure, this charming setting is typical of his style. Although the setting is only of lines 1‒6, the remaining text also fits the music when divided into a further two stanzas (an editorial setting of the rest of the text can be found in the Grove Music Online entry cited above).
Bibliography: Willetts, 1972; Willetts, 1974; Grove Music Online (A. J. Sabol, ‘Jonson, Ben’).

N.3.4/1‒2 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Come, with our voices let us war

Two settings of Jonson’s poem ‘The Musical Strife’ are known. Neither shows significant deviation from the printed text; however, N.3.4/1 (Full score   , MIDI   ) is likely to pre-date The Underwood by at least a decade or so. The setting by John Wilson (1595‒1674) (N.3.4/2 (Full score   , MIDI   )) is found in his songbook Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Mus.b.1, a large collection compiled c. 1650‒5. The same setting is also found in a set of performing parts used as part of some public music at the degree ceremonies and celebrations in Oxford, known as the ‘Act’, probably c. 1674. The Act included a music lecture, as well as music. By 1640 this annual lecture was seen more as an (often bawdy) entertainment for the ladies than a serious opportunity for erudition, a tradition which continued after the Restoration (see Gouk, 1997). Candidates for the Bachelor of Music degree were expected to compose a five-part vocal setting as part of the fulfilment of the degree requirements. Candidates for the Doctor of Music degree were required to compose an instrumental or vocal piece in either six or eight parts. These compositional exercises were first performed at the Music School, and then repeated as part of the entertainment at the Act ceremonies. However, since music degrees were not regularly awarded after the Restoration it was common practice for music to be specially commissioned for performance at the Act. After its completion in 1669, degree celebrations were held in the Sheldonian Theatre. The professor of music was usually involved in contributing ceremonial music for such events (see Wollenberg, 1981‒2; Gouk, 1997). In addition to the compositional exercises, the Act also included incidental music, some of which was provided as part of the music lecture. Much like the court masque, Act entertainments were ephemeral events and the survival of related music is poor and difficult to date with any accuracy. Most surviving Act music dates from between 1669 and 1710 (for a list, see Madan, 1891–1953, 5.251‒5).
Wilson’s setting (N.3.4/2 (Full score   , MIDI   )) appears to date to the early 1650s, although the performing parts in Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Mus. Sch. C.142 were copied later. The watermarks in C.142 date to the second half of the century, and one is most commonly found only after c. 1665. The setting (along with the rest of the contents of C.142) was most likely used as musical intervals to the music lecture given on Act Saturday. As Wilson is not known to have given any of the music lectures, any use of this setting in the Act is likely to post-date his death on 22 February 1674. The contemporary diarist Anthony Wood recalled that Wilson donated to the Bodleian library what (from his description) appears to be Mus. b.1, ‘before his majesty’s restoration, but with this condition that no person should peruse it till after his death’. The manuscript was catalogued by about 1656 and evidently kept in one of the library’s two archives used for storing manuscripts that could not be put on the ordinary shelves (see Crum, 1955). The close relationship between Wilson’s songbook and the performing parts, as well as their common Oxford provenance, strongly suggests that the C.142 version was copied from Mus. b.1. We can thus further assume with reasonable certainty that this did not occur until after the end of February 1674. Wilson was Heather Professor of Music from 1656 to 1661, so perhaps his setting of ‘The Musical Strife’ was used for the Act later in 1674 to commemorate his death. The bass part was copied twice in C.142; on facing pages it is found in C minor and transposed down a tone (in B minor). The reason for this is unclear; it seems to suggest that the bass was reinforced by a transposing instrument, presumably a harpsichord or organ.

N.3.5 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Do but consider this small dust

Like Alfonso Ferrabosco’s setting of ‘Hear me, O God!’ (N.3.1 (Full score   , MIDI   )), this setting is a contrafactum. It uses the same music as Ferrabosco’s setting (for voice and bass) of the anonymous poem ‘All you forsaken lovers’ (see Commentary). The tune is also found in arrangements for lyra-viol ensemble (see Cunningham, 2009), which contain some interesting variants in accidentals (lyra-viol music was generally notated in French tablature, which indicates only where to stop the string and so can often be informative in resolving instances where staff notation is ambiguous concerning accidentals). There are only minor differences between the musical settings of ‘All you forsaken lovers’ and ‘Do but consider this small dust’ (for ease of comparison, an edition is provided in the Commentary for this item).
The setting of ‘Do but consider this small dust’ is found in a single source, Carlisle Cathedral, Dean and Chapter Library, MSS Box B1 (‘Bishop Smith’s Partsong Books’), and contains four minor variants from Jonson’s poem as it was printed; all variants are found in the manuscript versions collated by Herford and Simpson. In the Carlisle manuscript there is a Latin verse by Girolamo Amaltei facing the song (in both books), which Herford and Simpson identified as the source for Jonson’s text (11.53). Based on the presence of the Latin text, and the quality of the vocal and musical texts, Edward Doughtie rightly concludes that the Carlisle setting has a good degree of authority when compared to ‘All you forsaken lovers’. He also notes that Ferrabosco’s music fits Jonson’s poem much better than it does ‘All you forsaken lovers’. For example, ‘the descending five-note scale which does little to enhance the words “pity my distress” and “pity in her breast” in the anonymous text helps illustrate “running in this glasse” and “playing like the flye” in Jonson’s poem. In Jonson’s fourth line, “could you beleive [sic] that this,” a long high note approached by the leap of a fourth gives emphasis to “this” but the anonymous text has a rather awkward “can” at this point: the line reads “All you beloved can / pity me no less,” etc.’ (Doughtie, 1969, 150).

N.3.6 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Or scorn or pity on me take

Judging from its position in Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Mus.b.1, John Wilson’s setting of Jonson’s poem ‘The Dream’ was probably composed in the 1650s. There are only minor variations in the spelling and syntax between the setting and the printed text, suggesting that Jonson’s printed text (or some related source) may have been Wilson’s source. The setting is fairly typical of Wilson’s solo songs: a tuneful melody, but set within an often awkward (even clumsy) tonal language. The Phrygian cadence (rising tone against a falling semitone) in bar 3 is typical of his cadential approach with a descending melodic line. Ian Spink rightly noted that ‘Too often Wilson puts his trust in a bass which moves by step, ascending or descending, chromatic or diatonic, leaving the upper part to shift as well as it can’ (1986, 109): a trait clearly evident in this song. Some touches work well, such as the clashing false relation in bar 10 (b¨ in the bass against the bª in the melody) emphasising the word ‘surpris’d’. In general the setting is musically unremarkable, but typical of the style of declamatory airs prevalent towards the middle of the century.

N.3.7 (Full score   , MIDI   )   Come, let us here enjoy the shade

N.3.7 (Full score   , MIDI   ) is the only setting of Jonson’s lyrics by Thomas Ford. Ford was appointed as one of Prince Henry’s musicians in 1611 and went on to serve his brother Charles, first as Prince of Wales and then as King. He served in Charles I’s ‘Lutes, Viols, and Voices’ – an elite group of musicians who worked in the innermost parts of the court – between 1625 and the disbandment of the court in 1642; he died in 1648. Ford was a competent if uninspiring composer. His collection of lyra-viol music published in 1607 includes some imaginative and idiomatic pieces; however, his secular vocal music is not of particularly high quality, particularly when compared to Robert Johnson or to Henry Lawes’s better works, for example. Regrettably this setting is not among Ford’s best work; it is quite unremarkable.

Ford does not follow Jonson’s division of characters exactly. No characters are designated in the manuscript, but it is clear that the Lover and the Mistress are taken by the Countertenor and Alto, respectively and that the role of Arbiter is taken by the Bassus. Ford interpreted the last two lines of his stanza (11‒12) as a duet between the lovers beginning in sweet-sounding thirds to contrast the low register of the bass. The partbooks into which the setting was copied – Oxford, Christ Church, Mus. 736‒8 – were compiled during the 1630s, although the setting is likely to have been composed earlier than this. There is little to suggest when exactly this was, although in terms of style it is unlikely to be much later than c. 1625. The setting thus represents an early source for Jonson’s text, although there are no significant textual variants. A large number of similar three-part songs by Ford, secular and sacred, survive in manuscripts, the most important of which are Mus. 736‒8. The continuo partbook has been lost from the set, and is here reconstructed editorially. Some concordances for Mus. 736‒8 with surviving continuo book are found in Winchester College MS 153, a set of Elizabethan partbooks into which ten of Ford’s partsongs were later entered (see Forney, 1999); ‘Come, let us here enjoy the shade’ is not among them.

Bibliography: Ashbee, 1998 (‘Ford, Thomas’); Grove Music Online (I. Spink and F. Traficante, ‘Ford, Thomas’); Forney, 1999.