Chapter 7
Hawkins (1776) does not add much of interest to the above account of the Elizabethan dances, except (p. 704) that there is no authority for a Jigg having generally a pointed (_i.e._, dotted) note at the beginning of every bar. There is, however, a 'Jegge' given in Stainer and Barrett's Dict. of Musical Terms, dated 1678, where the 'pointed' note is quite characteristic. This may be a more modern feature, for an undoubtedly ancient Jig--viz., Dr Bull's 'King's Hunting Jigg,' not only has no dotted note, but is in common time, without even a tendency towards the rhythm of triplets. [Also see Appendix, 'Cobbler's Jig.' 1622.]
Here is a most entertaining quotation from Selden,[19] dealing with fashionable court dances in Elizabeth's reign, and shewing how things had gone from bad to worse in respect of dignity and state in dancing, under the Stuarts.
[Footnote 19: Selden's Table Talk, article 'King of England,' § 7.]
'The court of England is much alter'd. At a solemn dancing, _first_ you had the _grave measures_, _then_ the _Corantoes_ and the _Galliards_, and _this_ kept up _with ceremony_; and _at length_ to Trenchmore, and the Cushion dance: _Then_ all the company dances, lord and groom, lady and kitchen-maid, _no distinction_. So in our court in queen _Elizabeth's_ time, _gravity and state_ were kept up. In king _James's_ time things were _pretty well_. But _in king Charles's time_, there has been nothing but Trenchmore and the Cushion-dance, _omnium gatherum, tolly polly, hoite cum toite_.'
There are very many passages of interest, containing references to Dances. The first one here given is an instance (in Shakespeare's very text) of singing a dance and dancing to it at the same time. Here the _Brawl_, and _Canary_, the first in alphabetical order, are coupled together.
_L.L.L._ III, i, 9.
_Moth._ Master, will you win your love with a _French brawl_?
_Arm._ How meanest thou? _brawling in French_?
_Moth._ No, my complete master; but to _jig off a tune_ at the tongue's end, _canary to it_ with your feet, ... _sigh a note_, and _sing a note_.'
Two other examples of dancing to one's own singing are, _Mids._ V, ii, 25 and _Wiv._ V, v, 93.
The _Brawl_ was written in quick four-in-a-bar time. There are several well-known tunes to it. [See Note on Arbeau's 'Orchésographie.' 1588.] The derivation of the name is from the French, _bransle_, a totter, swing, shake, etc., or perhaps from Old French _Brandeler_, to wag, shake, swing. Skeat thinks the original dance may have been a _sword_ dance, and with this he connects the word Brandish.[20] It was danced, sometimes in a ring, holding hands, and sometimes 'at length.'
[Footnote 20: This hardly seems a necessary theory. See the Note on 'Orchésographie,' where the 'swinging' movement is fully accounted for.]
The _Canary_ (or Canaries) was in 6/8 time, and was a lively dance. [Stainer and Barrett's Dict. gives one by Delaborde in 4/4 time.] There are many examples by Lully and other Frenchmen of the 17th century. One of Lully's, in Lajarte's 'Airs à Danser,' dates 1666. There is no history of the name. Skeat says it is so called from the Canary Islands. Hawkins does not attempt to account for the title, but cunningly infers that it is of English origin because it has _not_ got a foreign name. Also he mentions that Purcell wrote a Canaries for his Opera of Dioclesian, 1690. [See Note on 'Orchésographie.']
The Canary is also alluded to in two other places, where the lively character of the dance is clear. Mr Ford puns on 'wine,' 'pipe,' and 'canary.' Of course _he_ means _whine_, _pipe_ (for dancing to), and the _Canary_ that he meant Falstaff to dance.
_Wiv._ III, ii, 83.
_Host._ Farewell, my hearts. I will to my honest knight Falstaff, and drink _canary_ with him.
_Ford._ [_aside_] I think, I shall drink in _pipe-wine_ first with him; I'll make him _dance_.
And next, Lafeu connects the canary with 'spritely fire and motion.'
_All's Well_ II, i, 74.
_Lafeu._ ... I have seen a medicine That's able to breathe life into a stone, Quicken a rock, and make you _dance canary_ With spritely fire and motion.
There are two specially important passages which mention several dances at one time, so as to give some prominence to their special characteristics--viz., _Much Ado_ II, i, 68, and _Twelfth Nt._ I, iii, 118.
The budget of dances here named includes--
1. Cinque-pace, or Sinkapace. 2. Coranto, or Courante. 3. Galliard. 4. Jig (Scotch). 5. Measure.
_Much Ado_ II, i, 68.
_Beatrice._ The fault will be in the _music_, cousin, if you be not woo'd _in good time_: if the prince be too important [importunate], tell him, there is _measure_ in everything, and so _dance_ out the answer. For hear me, Hero; wooing, wedding, and repenting, is as a _Scotch jig_, a _measure_, and a _cinque-pace_: the first suit is _hot and hasty_, like a _Scotch jig_, and full as fantastical; the wedding, _mannerly modest_, as a _measure_, full of _state and ancientry_; and then comes repentance, and with his bad legs falls into the _cinque-pace faster and faster_ till he sink into his grave.
_Tw._ I, iii, 118.
_Sir To._ What is thy excellence in a _galliard_, knight?
_Sir And._ 'Faith, I can _cut a caper_.
* * * * *
L. 123.
_Sir To._ Wherefore are these things hid?... why dost thou not _go to church in a galliard_, and _come home in a coranto_? My very _walk_ should be a _jig_: ... _sink-a-pace_. What dost thou mean? is it a world to hide virtues in? I did think, by the excellent constitution of thy leg, it was formed under the _star of a galliard_.
To take these five dances in order--
1. Cinquepace is the name of the original Galliard. Praetorius (b. 1571) says a Galliard has _five_ steps, and is therefore called _Cinque_ Pas. These five steps are described in the Orchésographie, 1588. See the Note on that work for the explanation of the steps of this and other Shakespeare dances.
Beatrice's description seems to connect the cinquepace with the tottering and uncertain steps of old age. 'Repentance,' she says, 'with his _bad legs_ falls into the cinquepace faster and faster, till he _sink_ into his grave.'
2. Coranto is the Italian form of our Country dance. The Country dance is original in England, but under different foreign names has been called French or Italian. It means simply 'country' or 'rustic' dance. Skeat is entirely opposed to the derivation from _Contra_ danza, with a supposed reference to two opposite lines of partners; and in this he is confirmed by Shakespeare, _Tempest_ IV, i, 138, 'country footing.' The old English name was 'current traverse,' and Morley (1597) speaks of the Courant step as 'travising and running,' which would appear to connect the Italian word with _curro_. Sir John Davies (1570-1626), in his poem 'Orchestra,' identifies Rounds, Corantos, measures, and some other dances with Country Dances. That is, whatever the rhythm or speed of the actual tune used, these variously named Country Dances could be performed to it. Sir Roger de Coverly, our typical English Country Dance, is in _form_ almost the same as the Brawl, Coranto, Galliard, or measure. A Courant by Frescobaldi (1591-1640) is in triple time. As for its 'step,' Davies says it is 'on a triple dactile foot,' 'close by the ground with sliding passages.' According to Sir Toby, it would be a quicker and gayer dance than the Galliard, for he compares the walk to church to the latter; but the more lighthearted journey back to dinner he likens to the Coranto. The Jig would be even faster, for Sir Andrew's 'very walk,' that is, his _week-day_ gait, was to be 'a jig.'
3. The Galliard, in accordance with its derivation, is properly described in _H. 5._ I, ii, 252, as a '_nimble_' galliard. This was extremely popular, both as a virginal piece and for dancing. There is quite a long list of Galliards by various composers, in Qu. Elizabeth's Virginal Book. There are several in _Parthenia_ (1611) by Byrde, Bull, and Gibbons. They are always in triple time, and consist of either two or three strains of an even number of bars.
Sir Toby seems to connect a Galliard with somewhat violent 'capers.' He remarks on the 'excellent constitution' of Sir Andrew's leg, 'it was formed under the star of a galliard.' Sir Andrew complacently replies, 'Ay, 'tis strong,' upon which Sir Toby proposes to the foolish knight to give an example of his powers; 'Let me see thee _caper_. Ha! _higher_.' This capering or 'sault majeur' was also a feature of the 'high lavolt' [La Volta] mentioned in _Troilus_ IV, iv, 84, concerning which Sir John Davies says--
'An anapaest is all their music's song, Whose first two feet are short, and third is long.'
Also he calls the lavolte 'a lofty jumping.' Morley (1597) speaks of the Volte, and says it is characterised by 'rising and leaping,' and is of the same 'measure' as a coranto. These statements do not all agree with the 'Orchésographie.'
4. Jigg [later Gigue, and Jig]. The name comes from Giga (Geige), a sort of fiddle in use during the 12th and 13th centuries. The oldest jigs are Scottish, and were 'round dances' for a large number of people. As for the time of the Jig tunes, those of the 18th century were certainly written in a triple rhythm, like 3/8, 6/4 or 12/8. The Jegge of 1678, mentioned above, is in quick 6/4 time. But 'The Cobbler's Jig' [Appendix], 1622, and a Jigg by Matthew Locke, dated 1672, in his 'Compositions for Broken and Whole Consorts of 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6 parts,' are very decidedly in quick 4/4 time, and have no such characteristics as a 'dotted note' anywhere about them. Moreover, Bull's 'The King's Hunting Jigg,' is also in quick 4/4 time, with a similar absence of dotted notes. This last example is probably earlier than 1600. At any rate it was a lively dance, as we can learn from Hamlet.
_Hamlet_ II, ii, 504. The _1st Player_ recites a speech.
_Polonius._ This is _too long_.
_Hamlet._ It shall to the barber's, with your beard.--Pr'ythee (to the _1st Player_), say on: _he's for a jig, ... or he sleeps_.
5. Measure. Beatrice, in the quoted passage from _Much Ado About Nothing_, gives a capital idea of the relative speed of the Scotch jig and the Measure. The jig, she says, is like the lover's wooing, hot, hasty, and fantastical; the measure, however, is like the Wedding, mannerly modest, full of state and ancientry.
The term Measure certainly seems to have been used to signify a particularly staid and formal dance. Selden (see above), at least, puts 'grave Measures' at the sober beginning of his list, and so goes on, by easy descent, through the more spirited Coranto, and tolerably lively Galliard, to the lower depths of the Cushion-Dance, which were reached towards the close of the evening, when the grave and reverend Elders may be supposed to have gone to bed.
But, besides this, the word appears to have been used generically, meaning merely 'a dance.' It was certainly applied to the Passamezzo, _and to other country dances_. In _H. 8._ I, iv, 104, King Henry says--
... 'I have half a dozen healths To drink to these fair ladies, and a _measure_ To lead 'em once again.'
The next passage uses the word for a pun.
_As You_ V, iv, 178.
_Duke Senior._ _Play Music!_ and you brides and bridegrooms all, With _measure_ heap'd in joy, to the _measures_ fall.
L. 192.
_Jaques._ ... So, to your pleasures; I am for other than for _dancing measures_.
A similar play upon the word is in _Richard II._ III, iv, 6, where the queen asks her ladies to propose some sport to drive away care.
_1 Lady._ Madam, we'll dance.
_Queen._ My legs can keep no _measure_ in delight, When my poor heart no _measure_ keeps in grief: Therefore, no dancing, girl.
See especially the following, which holds a whole string of quibbles.
_L.L.L._ V, ii, 184. Masked ball.
_King of Navarre._ Say to her, we have _measur'd_ many miles, To tread a _measure_ with her on this grass.
_Boyet_ (to the ladies). They say, that they have _measur'd_ many a mile, To tread a _measure_ with you on this grass.
_Rosaline._ It is not so. Ask them how many inches Is in one mile: if they have _measur'd_ many, The _measure_ then of one is easily told.
_Boyet._ If, to come hither, you have _measur'd_ miles, And many miles, the princess bids you tell, How many inches do fill up one mile.
_Biron._ Tell her, we _measure_ them by weary _steps_.
And l. 209, _measure_.
Another dance that is frequently referred to is the Dump, the slow and mournful character of which has already been explained in the notes on _Lucrece_ 1127. As a serenade it is named in the _Two Gent._ III, ii, 83. The nature of the steps of this dance is not certainly known. Two features, however, may be guessed at--viz., a tapping of the foot at certain places, which may be inferred from the possible connection of the word with 'Thump'; and secondly, an alternation of a slow sliding step, interspersed with dead pauses, and a quicker movement, succeeded again by the slow step. These last seem to be indicated by the music of 'My Lady Carey's Dump,' part of which is given in the Appendix. The character of the Dump has given us the modern expression of 'in the dumps'--_i.e._, sulky; and this is also used commonly in Shakespeare.
In the next passage, Peter, Capulet's servant, speaks ironically of a 'merry' dump, and quotes verse 1 of Richard Edwards' song, 'When griping grief.' For an account of that song see Section III., about Songs and Singing. In Peter's quotation, the dumps are 'doleful.'
The quibbles on 'silver sound,' 'sweet sound,' 'sound for silver,' 'no _gold_ for sounding,' are further examples of Shakespeare's fondness for joking on musical matters. Peter's reply to the Third Musician, 'You are the singer; I will _say_ for you,' may be a just reflection on Mr James Soundpost's lack of words, or perhaps indicates that the pronunciation of singers even in that musical age was no better than it is now.
The improvised names of the musicians are pointed enough; Simon 'Catling,' referring to the material of his viol strings; Hugh 'Rebeck,' the rebeck being the ancient English fiddle with three strings. The 'smalé' Ribible, which Absolon, the parish clerk in Chaucer, used to play 'songés' on, is supposed to be the same instrument; and finally, James 'Soundpost,' which wants no explaining.
The final remark of Musician 2 is delicious, 'tarry for the mourners, and stay dinner.'
_Rom._ IV, v, 96. After Juliet's apparent death.
_Exeunt Capulet, Lady C., Paris, etc._
_1 Musician._ 'Faith, we may _put up our pipes_, and be gone.
_Nurse._ Honest good fellows, ah! _put up, put up_; For well you know, this is a pitiful _case_.
_1 Mus._ Ay, by my troth, the _case_ may be amended.
(See _H. 5._ III, ii, 42, about Bardolph and the lute case.)
_Enter Peter._
_Peter._ Musicians, O, musicians! "Heart's ease, Heart's ease": O! an you will have me live, play "Heart's ease."
_1 Mus._ Why "Heart's ease?"
_Peter._ O, musicians, because my _heart itself_ plays--"My heart is full of woe." O! play me some _merry dump_, to comfort me.
_2 Mus._ Not a _dump_ we: 'tis no time to play now.
* * * * *
_Peter._ Then will I lay the serving creature's dagger on your pate. I will carry no _crotchets_: I'll _re_ you, I'll _fa_ you. Do you _note_ me?
_1. Mus._ An you _re_ us, and _fa_ us, you _note_ US.
_2. Mus._ Pray you, put up your dagger, and put out your wit.
_Peter._ Then have at you with my wit.... Answer me like men:
_When griping grief the heart doth wound, And_ DOLEFUL DUMPS _the mind oppress, Then music with her silver sound--_
Why "silver sound"? why "music with her _silver_ sound"? what say you, Simon _Catling_?
_1 Mus._ Marry, sir, because silver hath a _sweet sound_.
_Peter._ Pretty!--what say _you_, Hugh _Rebeck_?
_2 Mus._ I say--"silver sound" because musicians _sound for silver_.
_Peter._ Pretty too!--what say _you_, James _Soundpost_?
_3 Mus._ 'Faith, I know not what to _say_.
_Peter._ O! I cry you mercy; you are the _singer_: I will _say_ for you. It is--"music with her silver sound," because musicians have no _gold_ for sounding:--
Then music with her _silver sound_ With speedy help doth lend redress.
[_Exit._
_1 Mus._ What a pestilent knave is this same!
_2 Mus._ Hang him, Jack! [Peter's names evidently all wrong.] Come, we'll in here; tarry for the mourners, _and stay dinner_.
[_Exeunt._]
The Hay, Hey, or Raye, seems to be mentioned only once--viz., in _Love's Labour's Lost_, in the account of the preparations for the Pageant of the Worthies. Constable Dull proposes to accompany the dancing of the hay with a tabor, which may be taken as the common practice. Holofernes says Dull's idea is 'most dull,' like himself. The Hay was a Round country-dance--_i.e._, the performers stood in a circle to begin with, and then (in the words of an old direction quoted in Stainer and Barrett's Dict.) 'wind round _handing_ in passing until you come to your places.' See the note on Arbeau's Orchésographie for the steps and tune of the Haye.
Hawkins says (Hist. 705) that in an old comedy called the Rehearsal, the Earth, the Sun, and Moon are made to dance the Hey to the tune of Trenchmore, which is referred to in the above-quoted passage from Selden, as a lively and even boisterous dance.
_L.L.L._ V, i, 148. Schoolmaster Holofernes & Co. arranging the Pageant of the Nine Worthies.
_Dull._ I'll make one in a _dance_, or so; or I will _play_ _On the tabor_ to the Worthies, and let them _dance the hay_.
_Hol._ _Most dull_, honest Dull.
The Morrice Dance, or Morris, was very popular in England and other countries in the 16th century.
Relics of it may still be seen in country places at certain times of the year. The very meagre celebrations of May Day, which can be seen in London even now, are a survival of the ancient customs with which the Morrice-Dance was always associated. Hawkins gives this account of the Morris; "there are few country places in this kingdom where it is not known; it is a dance of young men in their shirts, with bells at their feet, and ribbons of various colours tied round their arms, and slung across their shoulders. Some writers, Shakespeare in particular, mention a Hobby-horse and a Maid Marian, as necessary in this recreation. Sir William Temple speaks of a pamphlet in the library of the Earl of Leicester, which gave an account of a set of morrice-dancers in King James's reign, composed of ten men or twelve men, for the ambiguity of his expression renders it impossible to say which of the two numbers is meant, who went about the country: that they danced a Maid Marian, with a tabor and pipe, and that their ages one with another made up twelve hundred years."
[Temple's own words are quite clear--viz., that there were _ten_ men who danced; a Maid Marian (makes eleven); and a man to play the tabor and pipe (makes twelve).]
The name Morrice means Moorish dance, or Morisco. Perhaps it was called so from being accompanied by the tabor, for Drums of all sorts are distinctly Eastern instruments.
Two tunes, one a Moresca by Monteverde, 1608, and the other an English Morris, 1650, are given in the Appendix. Also see Note on 'Orchésographie' for a Morisque.
The first of the two following passages connects the morris with May Day; the second with Whitsuntide, which is in May as often as not.
_All's Well_ II, ii, 20.
_Countess._ Will your answer serve fit to all questions?
_Clown._ As fit as ... a pancake for Shrove Tuesday, a _morris_ for _May-day_....
_H. 5._ II, iv, 23.
_Dauphin._ And let us do it with no show of fear; No, with no more, than if we heard that England Were busied with a _Whitsun morris-dance_;
The Pavan has been mentioned before, as the dance in Duple time which preceded the Galliard which was in a triple rhythm. It was a stately dance, with a stately name, for the derivation is most probably from _Pavo_, a peacock, with a reference, no doubt, to the majestic strut and gay feathers of that bird. It was _de rigueur_ for gentlemen to dance the Pavan in cap and sword; for lawyers to wear their gowns, princes their mantles; and ladies to take part in the fullest of full dress, the long trains of their gowns being supposed to correspond in appearance and movement to the peacock's tail.
The only Pavan mentioned by Shakespeare is the _Passy-measures pavin_, otherwise known as Passing-measures-pavin, or Passameso, or _Pass e mezzo_, which last is the earliest form of the word.
Praetorius (_b._ 1571), however, says the Passe mezzo is so called because it has only _half as many steps_ as a Galliard. Thus the name is inverted, mezzo Passo. Hawkins helps to confuse the matter by explaining that the Galliard has _five bars or steps_ in the first strain, and that the Passamezzo has just half that number, and thus gets its name. No Galliard ever had an uneven number of bars in any of its strains, so this account is difficult to reconcile.
However, Pass e mezzo, 'step and a half,' is the most trustworthy form of the name, and the Note on the Orchésographie of Arbeau (1588) makes all quite clear.
The Passamezzo (or passy-measures pavin) tune in the Appendix has a similar construction to the ordinary pavan, the form of which has been explained earlier in this section--_i.e._, it consists of regular 'strains,' which in their turn contain a certain _even_ number of semibreves, or 'bars.' In the case given, the strains consist of _eight_ bars each. This must be borne in mind, in connection with Sir Toby's drunken fancy about the surgeon, in the following passage:--
_Tw._ V, i, 197.
_Sir To._ [Drunk, and with a bloody coxcomb]--Sot, didst see Dick surgeon, sot?
_Clo._ O! he's drunk, Sir Toby, an hour agone; his eyes were _set at eight_ i' the morning.
_Sir To._ Then he's a rogue, and a _passy-measures pavin_.
Toby being only moderately sober, naturally feels indignant at the doctor's indiscretions in the same kind; and, quite as naturally, the Clown's remark about the latter's eyes brings this fantastic comparison into his head. The doctor's eyes were set _at eight_, and so is a Pavan set 'at eight.' It is easy to see Sir Toby's musical gifts asserting themselves, confused recollections reeling across his brain, of that old rule in Morley about the right number of semibreves in a strain, 'fewer then _eight_ I have not seen in any _Pavan_.' 'Also in this you must cast your musicke by _foure_: ... no matter how manie _foures_ you put in your straine.' Bull's Pavan, 'St Thomas Wake,' has two strains of _sixteen_ bars each--_i.e._, two 'eights.' [Appendix.]
The last passage given here shows clearly that the Lavolta and Coranto were considered exotic in England in Shakespeare's time.
The French ladies here recommend their runaway husbands and brothers to cross the Channel and try to earn a living by teaching French dances to the stately English. Probably the "English dancing-schools" in those days would think the solemn walk of the Pavan quite as lively an amusement as good society could allow. There are other passages too which show that Shakespeare (or his characters) had a fine 'insular' feeling against these 'newfangled' fashions from France.
_H. 5._ III, v, 32.
_Bourbon_ (Speaks of the mocking French ladies). They bid us to the _English dancing-schools_, And teach _lavoltas high_, and _swift corantos_; Saying, our grace is only in our heels, And that we are most lofty runaways.