IN his Twelfth Night, Shakespeare introduces the Clown singing part of the two first stanzas of the following song; which song is here printed from what appears the most ancient of Dr. Harrington's poetical MSS., and which seems to have been written in the reign of King Henry VIII. V.-A SONG TO THE LUTE IN MUSICKE. THIS Sonnet (which is ascribed to Richard Edwards, in the Paradise of Daintie Devises, fo. 31, b.) is by Shakespeare made the subject of some pleasant ridicule in his Romeo and Juliet, Act iv. Sc. v., where he introduces Peter putting this question to the musicians: Peter. . . . why "Silver Sound"? why "Musicke with her silver sound"? what say you, Simon Catling? 1 Mus. Marry, sir, because silver hath a sweet sound. Pet. Pretty! what say you, Hugh Rebecke? 2 Mus. I say, silver sound, because musicians sound for silver. Pet. Pretty too! what say you, James Sound-post? 3 Mus. Faith, I know not what to say. Pet... I will say it for you: It is "Musicke with her silver sound," because musi cians have no gold for sounding. WHERE gripinge grefes the hart would wounde, The Gods by musicke have theire prayse; The lyfe, the soul therein doth joye: And dolefulle dumps the mynde For, as the Romayne poet sayes, VI.-KING COPHETUA AND THE BEGGAR MAID Is a story often alluded to by our old dramatic writers. Shakespeare, in his Romeo and Juliet, Act ii. Sc. i., makes Mercutio say: In the second part saying to Pistoll: "Her (Venus') purblind son and heir, Young Adam Cupid, he that shot so true, When King Cophetua loved the beggar maid." of Henry IV., Act v. Sc. iii., Falstaff is introduced affectedly "O base Assyrian knight, what is thy news? Let King Cophetua know the truth thereof." Shakespeare also alludes to the ballad in Love's Labour Lost, Act iv. Sc. i. And there is an allusion to the story in King Richard II., Act v. Sc. iii. I READ that once in Affrica From natures lawes he did decline, But did them all disdaine. The which did cause his paine. The blinded boy, that shootes so trim, Which soone did pierse him to the quicke, He looketh as he would dye. Then from the window he did come, A thousand heapes of care did runne For now he meanes to crave her love, But Cupid had him so in snare, That this poor begger must prepare And, as he musing thus did lye, The Gods shall sure suffice. The Gods preserve your majesty, That after them did hye. For thou, quoth he, shalt be my wife, And honoured for my queene; As shortly shall be seene : Thou shalt go shift thee cleane. A trim one as I weene. Thus hand in hand along they walke Unto the king's pallàce: The king with courteous comly talke This begger doth imbrace : The begger blusheth scarlet red, She was in such amaze. At last she spake with trembling voyce, And when the wedding day was come, Upon the queene to wait. Which she did weare of late. He knowth not his estate. Here you may read, Cophetua, Though long time fancie-fed, Compelled by the blinded boy The begger for to wed: He that did lovers lookes disdaine, And thus they led a quiet life During their princely raigne; Their death to them was paine, VII. TAKE THY OLD CLOAK ABOUT THEE. GIVEN in the folio under the title of Bell my Wiffe. This piece is more than a controversy between man and wife. It notes the tendency of the age, the struggle The man is anxious to do as his neighbours, and to do away with distinctions and rise to a higher level. The wife thinks old things are best, and wishes not to meddle with new. Shakespeare quotes the 7th stanza in Act ii. of Othello. between social revolution and social conservatism. VIII.-WILLOW, WILLOW, WILLOW. IT is from the following stanzas that Shakespeare has taken his song of the Willow, in his Othello, Act iv. Sc. iii., though somewhat varied and applied by him to a female character. He makes Desdemona introduce it in this pathetic and affecting manner : "My mother had a maid called Barbara : She was in love; and he she lov'd prov'd mad, A POORE Soule sat sighing under a sica more tree; O willow, willow, willow! With his hand on his bosom, his head on his knee: O willow, willow, willow! O willow, willow, willow! Sing, O the greene willow shall be my garland. He sigh'd in his singing, and after each grone, Come willow, etc. I am dead to all pleasure, my true-love is gone; O willow, etc. Sing, O the greene willow shall be my garland. My love she is turned; untrue she doth prove : O willow, etc. She renders me nothing but hate for my O willow, etc. Sing, O the greene willow, etc. O pitty me (cried he) ye lovers, each one; Her heart's hard as marble; she rues not O willow, etc. Sing, O the greene willow, etc. The cold streams ran by him, his eyes wept apace; O willow, etc. The salt tears fell from him, which drowned his face: |