Chapter Four: The Dark Comedies

Use these links to go

Back to Contents

  homepage


- 65 -

CHAPTER FOUR

THE DARK COMEDIES

Troilus and Cressida, All's Well That Ends Well

and Measure for Measure

 

    The earliest of the Dark Comedies, Troilus and Cressida, is essentially a play about corruption and its effects.  On a national level there is the Trojan War, brought about by Paris' abduction of Helen, who, like Cressida when she is 'abducted' by Diomedes, abandons herself luxuriously to her fate.  There is the corruption of Pandarus who arranges the illicit affair between Troilus and Cressida, and there is also corruption by pride, manifested notably in Achilles but also present in other characters.  These various forms of corruption are often emphasised by music, particularly the frequent use of alarums, retreats and the sounding of trumpets, all enhancing the ceremonial and military aspects of the action.  However, an analysis of the passages concerned shows that there is often irony in the use of this type of music, the irony emphasising various forms of corruption.  The trumpet is used extensively, being specified in stage directions three times and mentioned in the dialogue thirteen times. 4.1  Trumpets were generally associated with the nobility, and their frequent use points to an excessive richness or even decadence in the Trojan and Greek aristocracy. 4.2  The first three alarums occur in the first scene of the play, and Troilus probably refers to trumpets when he says 'Peace, you ungracious clamours' (I.i.89). 4.3  These alarums should call men to battle, but Troilus irritably dismisses them in order to resume his daydreaming about Cressida.  At the second alarum Aeneas enters and upbraids Troilus for his inaction, and only at the third alarum does he consent to go to the battle, thus clearly establishing his priorities.

 

    When Aeneas delivers Hector's challenge to the Greeks he is announced by a tucket on the trumpet, and after some lavish courtly exchanges he says,

 

     Trumpet, blow loud:

Send thy brass voice through all these lazy tents ...

(I.iii.255-256)

 

after which the trumpet sounds again.  To call one's enemy lazy would be a mild insult, but in this instance it is clearly true of both camps: Troilus has already been shown unwilling to fight, and Ulysses has just delivered his analysis of the problems faced by the Greeks in their ranks.  Again at IV.iv.137 Hector's trumpet sounds, reminding Paris and Aeneas that they should already be in the field, having misspent their time in seeing off Cressida.  In both of these instances the trumpet is indirectly associated with decadence, and it is used ironically yet again at IV.v.11, where the


- 66 -

 

trumpet of Ajax sounds to summon Hector to combat. 4.4  Music here is part of the ceremony associated with the challenge, 4.5 but instead of bringing in Hector it brings in Diomedes and Cressida, and what ensues is not the noble, chivalric contest anticipated by the trumpets, but a scene of decadence in which Cressida flirts with the Greek leaders and is kissed by several of them.  When she mocks Menelaus for being cuckolded and taunts Ulysses, it is clear that the trumpet has inadvertently brought us to the central issue of the play.  After Diomedes and Cressida leave, Ulysses delivers a scathing attack on Cressida's 'wanton spirits' (IV.v.56), and as his speech reaches its climax there is a 'Florish' (2622) followed by the combat.  The delay has served to underline the moral decay which led to the war.

 

    This moral decay is highlighted by an entirely different type of music in Act III.i, which opens with the courtly music of a broken consort: 'Musicke sounds within' (1477). 4.6  Pandarus and a servant enter and there is a witty exchange between the two during which the servant is decidedly forward with Pandarus, illustrating that it is not in the Greek camp only that degree is not observed. 4.7  Music is one means of showing this:

 

Pand.

What music is this?

Serv.

I do but partly know, sir: it is music in parts.

Pand.

Know you the musicians?

Serv.

Wholly, sir.

Pand.

Who play they to?

Serv.

To the hearers, sir.

(III.i.16-21)

 

Once Paris and Helen enter shortly after this there is further word play involving music.  When Pandarus is asked to sing, he feigns reluctance to do so until Paris has agreed to excuse Troilus from the King's supper, thus enabling Troilus to spend a night with Cressida.  In arranging this meeting, Pandarus is the embodiment of the carefree moral attitude with which the Trojans justified the abduction of Helen.  It is thus particularly fitting that he should be asked by Paris and Helen to sing a love song, the words of which aptly describe the quality of love between them.  They are preoccupied with love at a purely animal level:

 

Love, love, nothing but love, still love, still more!

     For O love's bow

     Shoots buck and doe;

     The shaft confounds

     Not that it wounds,

But tickles still the sore.

These lovers cry O ho, they die!

(III.i.110-116)


- 67 -

 

These lines imply that love increases with loving, an idea found elsewhere in Shakespeare. 4.8  The words bear an extremely crude double meaning: the shaft may obviously be associated with the male organ, while the sore and the wound represent the female organ, and to 'die' implies orgasm. 4.9  The remainder of the song consists largely of a series of interjections which are reminiscent of sexual intercourse.  Seng has identified these interjections with Lily's A Shorte Introduction of Grammar (1567), a standard school text which Shakespeare no doubt used as a boy. 4.10  'O ho' would be an interjection of sorrow, suggesting the physical effort of intercourse, while 'Ha, ha, he' is an interjection of mirth, reflecting orgasmic pleasure.  The overtones of this song are certainly recognised by its hearers (who, incidentally, are not in the least offended), for Paris continues in a lecherous vein, 'hot blood begets hot thoughts, and hot thoughts beget hot deeds, and hot deeds is love' (III.i.124-125).  The whole scene with its dissolute abandonment is representative of the state of Troy.  Helen is ironically prophetic when she calls for the song: 'Let thy song be love: this love will undo us all.  O Cupid, Cupid, Cupid!' (III.i.105-106), and Thersites' later comment, equally prophetic, sums up the case: 'Lechery, lechery, still wars and lechery!  Nothing else holds fashion.  A burning devil take them!' (V.ii.193-195).

 

    It should not be forgotten that Troilus and Cressida is a comedy, Pandarus being one of its comic figures, and so despite the moral decay of Troy, one of its functions is to provide humour.  The whole scene is light-hearted, and Pandarus regards the love of Helen and Paris with some amusement, reflected in his song.  Towards the end of the scene a retreat is sounded, but just as the earlier trumpet was initially dismissed by Troilus, so this retreat does not distract Paris for long: his final words are, 'Sweet, above all thought I love thee' (III.i.155).  He is closer to the truth than he realises, for he does indeed give little thought to the effects of his love.

 

    The use of the word 'sweet' at the close of this scene is significant.  It has been used nineteen times during the scene and by the end has become an almost meaningless tag of shallow love.  It should not pass unnoticed that in the next scene, in which Pandarus finally succeeds in bringing Troilus and Cressida together, the word is used several times again, two of them in musical metaphors.  Troilus fears that on meeting Cressida the joy of love will be 'tun'd too sharp in sweetness' (III.ii.22), and when he does meet her, he offers to stop her mouth with kisses, 'albeit sweet music issues thence' (III.ii.133).  Pandarus' bawdy song has hardly stopped ringing in the ears when these words are spoken - with Pandarus standing by.  It seems that there are certain similarities between the love of Helen and


- 68 -

 

Paris and that of Troilus and Cressida, and musical imagery is used to point to this.  The love of the younger pair is doomed because of that of the older:  Paris and Helen are the source of degeneracy in Troy, and, as de Almeida has noted, 'Romantic love cannot survive - or even come to pass - in a society such as [Shakespeare] depicted'. 4.11  Final confirmation of Cressida's betrayal of faith comes to Troilus when he eavesdrops on her meeting with Diomedes:

 

Troil.

Yea, so familiar?

Ulyss.

She will sing any man at first sight.

Thers.

And any man may sing her, if can take her clef: she's noted.

(V.ii.108-111)

 

This is clearly reminiscent of the 'sweet music' Troilus had referred to earlier.  There is a bawdy quibble in the word 'clef', which refers not only to the musical clef, but also to the female genitals. 4.12  Cressida is noted as a whore.  This condemnation, ironically couched in musical terms (music being symbolic of love), comes from Thersites, from whom, we have been assured by Agamemnon, we shall never hear 'music, wit and oracle' (I.iii.74).  In fact Thersites is one of the more far-sighted people in the play and, although his misanthropic stance colours much of what he says, he sees the moral corruption of Troy and Greece in its true light.

 

    There are two other occasions in the play when Pandarus may sing, although there is no indication in the text that he does.  When Cressida is due to part from Troilus, Pandarus delivers a 'goodly saying' (IV.iv.14), four lines of verse commencing 'O heart, heavy heart' (IV.iv.15).  These lines are probably from an old ballad (which had not been traced), and opinions vary as to whether they should be sung in the play or not. 4.13  It should be remembered that Pandarus is a comic character and his function in the initial part of the farewell scene is to act as a foil to the grief of Cressida.  He clearly has no conception of true love and his 'goodly saying' - 'never a truer rhyme' (IV.iv.20) - is sentimental and almost meaningless.  It certainly holds no comfort for the lovers.  If the words are indeed part of an old song, then Shakespeare probably intended them to be sung here, as both the words and the music would be singularly inappropriate, revealing something of the false values held by Pandarus and Trojan society generally.

 

    The final possible song by Pandarus appears in his epilogue:

 

Full merrily the humble-bee doth sing

Till he hath lost his honey and his sting;

And being once subdu'd in armed tail,

Sweet honey and sweet notes together fail.

(V.x.42-45)


- 69 -

 

Once again, there is no evidence that this should be sung, but singing would be appropriate.  In this stanza Pandarus sees himself as the humble-bee, and he did indeed sing 'full merrily' while he was a pandar.  His honey and his sting symbolise his usefulness in this role, but once it has ceased he has no further function in life.  Characteristically for Pandarus, his words hide a bawdy double meaning: the word 'tail' was a common euphemism for the penis and the loss of honey by the humble-bee obviously refers to ejaculation.  Pandarus, usually preoccupied with sexual matters, here sees Troilus and Cressida's love affair simply as an extended act of sexual intercourse.  He is unable to distinguish between love and lust.  The word 'sweet' has already been ironically associated with illicit love and its reappearance here is a sure indication of the prevailing tone of the stanza.

 

    One other aspect of music in this play merits comment, and that is its use as an inverse symbol of harmony.  Generally 'sweet' or harmonious music was seen as analogous to harmony in love, while the music of the dance and its orderly movements reflected marital harmony.  The only references in Troilus and Cressida in this respect are negative.  Troilus says he 'cannot sing, | Nor heel the high lavolt' (IV.iv.84-85), both of which point towards failure in love, while the songs which Pandarus sings or quotes are all concerned with depraved love or failure in love.  Sternfeld sees the broken consort which introduces Act III.i as representative of a decadent courtly society, 4.14 and this is also reflected in the lavish use of trumpets in alarums and retreats.  The musical imagery of Troilus and Cressida is predominantly negative, a fact that is explained quite simply by Ulysses in his speech on degree:

 

Take but degree away, untune that string,

And hark what discord follows.

(I.iii.109-110)

 

The lack of harmony on both sides of the Trojan War may be attributed to failure to observe degree.  Earlier Ulysses had said,

 

The heavens themselves, the planets, and this centre

Observe degree, priority and place,

Insisture, course, proportion, season, form,

Office and custom, in all line of order.

(I.iii.85-88)

 

Only under these circumstances can perfect harmony - the inaudible music of the spheres - exist.

 

    Like Troilus and Cressida, All's Well That Ends Well makes considerable use of fanfares to enhance ceremonial and military aspects of the action.


- 70 -

 

There are twelve stage directions requiring conventional flourishes, tuckets or alarums, and also one for a march.  The 'marche afarre' (1648), followed by 'Drumme and Colours' (1695) with the entry of 'the whole Armie' (1696) could be a diverting and effective spectacle which conveniently introduces two new characters, Diana and the Widow, to the audience, as well as bringing Helena into the action at Florence in a natural and unostentatious manner.  During the parade there is also an important aside from Parolles, 'Lose our drum!  Well!' (III.v.87) 4.15 which is the first mention of the fact that the symbolic drum has been lost.  The drum, an 'instrument of honour' (III.vi.62), was a symbol of war, as Bertram makes clear when he deserts Helena:

 

     This very day,

Great Mars, I put myself into thy file;

Make me but like my thoughts and I shall prove

A lover of thy drum, hater of love.

(III.iii.8-11)

 

In particular, Parolles' drum is a symbol of Bertram's rejection of Helena. 4.16  Its loss marks the point at which Bertram unwittingly starts returning to Helena: she is standing by in the parade scene when Parolles notices the loss, and the seeds of her plot to capture Bertram are sown immediately afterwards when she goes to stay in the very house where Bertram is wooing Diana.  The drum serves a further dramatic function in that Parolles' attempt to recover it is a source of much humour, while also revealing the cowardly side of his character.

 

    Another point at which music may have been intended is Act IV.ii, in which Bertram visits Diana.  The Widow had earlier said:

 

     Every night he comes

With musics of all sorts, and songs compos'd

To her unworthiness; it nothing steads us

To chide him from our eaves, for he persists

As if his life lay on't.

(III.vii.39-43)

 

This would have made this wooing scene (IV.ii) similar to that in The Two Gentlemen of Verona.  No mention of music is made in the present scene, however, and it would appear that Shakespeare abandoned the idea, as no dramatic function could be served by music here.  Nevertheless, the point has been made that Bertram, like Thurio before him, is wooing in earnest.

 

    Song is used in only one scene in the play, that in which the Clown sings snatches of two ballads in his fooling with the Countess.  There is no direction that the songs should be sung, but, as Hunter notes of the second


- 71 -

 

fragment, the 'F[olio]'s bis ... is a clear indication of the stanza having been set to music'. 4.17  A possible source of the last two lines of the first song is found in The Golden Aphroditis (1577), which contains a poem by John Grange ending with the line 'As Cuckoldes come by destinie, so Cuckowes sing by kinde'. 4.18  In the play there is one important change in this line, which would be noted by the audience if they knew the original well.  In Shakespeare's version the line reads 'marriage comes by destiny' (I.iii.60), which is probably intended to indicate that Helena's marriage to Bertram will be consummated in the end.  We may also take it that if, in this case, cuckolds do not come by destiny, then Helena will prove a faithful wife to Bertram.  Her goodness is indicated more positively in the second song which concerns Helen of Troy.  This could well have been taken from a song entered in the Stationers' Register in 1586, called 'The lamentations of Hecuba and the ladies of Troye', 4.19 and although this song is now lost, we may be reasonably sure that Shakespeare once again altered the words to suit his purpose, for the Countess comments on the last lines, 'What, one good in ten?  You corrupt the song, sirrah' (I.iii.77-78).  According to the Clown, Hecuba had said:

 

Among nine bad if one be good,

     There's yet one good in ten.

(I.iii.75-76)

 

However, as Hunter notes, she is more likely to have said:

 

If one be bad among nine good,

There's yet one bad in ten. 4.20

 

Hecuba, of course, was referring to the sons of Priam, but the Clown claims to have twisted the words to refer to women, not men.  In this case, the one good one is Helen of Troy - a clear, if somewhat barbed, compliment to Helena.  Helen of Troy's reputation was by no means unsullied (which was certainly Shakespeare's view in Troilus and Cressida), and the song's compliment with its bittersweet flavour is exactly what might be expected from the Clown.  This being so, its message to the audience is unequivocal: Helena is a virtuous woman.  This makes her own reference to this type of song when she comes into the King's presence ironical, as she says she would dare to be 'Traduc'd by odious ballads' (II.i.171) if her cure fails.  Having seen her praised in the twisting of the ballad in the earlier scene, the audience would realise that this is unlikely to happen.

 

    One final aspect of the music in this play merits mentioning, this being the recurring use of dance imagery in the first half of the second act.  There are altogether five references to dances here, and none in the rest of


- 72 -

 

the play.  It is in this act that the King is healed by Helena, and the dancing imagery highlights first his illness and then his cure, as dancing is generally associated with vigorous movement.  In this respect the first reference is ironical.  When the ailing King is bidding farewell to his young lords who are about to fight in the Florentine war, Bertram comments that he is being kept behind with 'no sword ... | But one to dance with' (II.i.32-33).  He sees the dance as an unmanly activity associated with the King's court.  However, Parolles urges him to follow the lords, 'though the devil lead the measure' (II.i.54-55).  The health of the young lords forms an obvious contrast with the infirmity of the King, and Parolles' association of dancing with the young men's activities highlights the difference.

 

    Another of the dancing references in this act is the Clown's passing mention of the fitness of 'a morris for May-day' (II.ii.23).  Although this has nothing directly to do with the King's illness, the short scene in which it appears indicates the passing of time between the promise of the cure in the previous scene and its manifestation in the following scene.  The idea of dancing was obviously still running in the playwright's mind - or perhaps he used it deliberately to keep the idea present for the audience.  Dance had been associated with the promise of a cure by Lafew:

 

     I have seen a medicine

That's able to breathe life into a stone,

Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary

With sprightly fire and motion ....

(II.i.71-74)

 

Once the cure has been effected Lafew yet again mentions a dance: 'Why, he's able to lead her a coranto' (II.iii.42-43).  The canary, morris and coranto are all energetic dances which help to evoke the lively atmosphere associated with the curing of the King. 4.21

 

    The King in All's Well That Ends Well and the Duke in Measure for Measure are to some extent similar figures in that they stage-manage the final trial scenes in their plays.  However, while the King is given all the conventional flourishes at his entries, no corresponding stage directions are found for the Duke.  Only two would be required, one at the start of the play and the other at the beginning of Act V, 4.22 the latter being required by the action.  In Act IV.v. the Duke sends instructions to 'bring the trumpets to the gate' (IV.v.9) and in the next scene Friar Peter tells Isabella, 'Twice have the trumpets sounded' (IV.vi.12).  The use of trumpets to herald the Duke's entry in Act V would be dramatically significant, for they would state publicly the fact that the Duke, now appearing in his own habit, is about to resume his position as governor.  The stage direction requiring


- 73 -

 

a flourish at this point is missing, but this is in keeping with the general paucity of stage directions in the play. 4.23

 

    The only other instance in which music appears in Measure for Measure is of considerably greater importance.  A melancholy atmosphere is established at the outset of Act IV when 'Take, o take those lips away' is sung by a boy to Mariana.  The audience has been told of Angelo's rejection of Mariana on the grounds of her loss of dowry, but this is her first appearance in the play.  The words of the song are appropriate to her situation and are intended to arouse the audience's sympathy, thus indirectly emphasising the badness of Angelo who is the sole cause of Mariana's dejection.  Angelo's corruption hardly needs stressing, but this particular aspect of it - his faithlessness in love - is important as a foil to the constant love of Claudio for Juliet.  Furthermore, in order for the Duke's final dispensation of mercy to have its full dramatic effect, Angelo must be worthy of the death sentence he receives, but at the same time the audience must want him to live.  This is achieved through Mariana, whose happiness depends on Angelo's life.  The song ensures that compassion for Mariana will be felt.

 

    Long sees one function of the song as 'immediate characterization of Mariana upon her entry'. 4.24  While the song is certainly an aid to character drawing, it should not be forgotten that the Duke has already told us as much about Mariana as the song does, namely, that Angelo, 'bestowed her on her own lamentation, which she yet wears for his sake' (II.i.227-229) and that she 'hath yet in her the continuance of her first affection' (II.i.239-240).  The song creates an atmosphere of melancholy consistent with the lamentations we expect from Mariana, who has reached a state of hopelessness.  She wishes to take back her kisses as they were 'seals of love, but seal'd in vain, seal'd in vain' (IV.i.6).  The repetition of the last words is a most effective enhancement of the pathos.  It has been suggested that in listening to the song Mariana is indulging her sadness. 4.25  This supposition is based partly on her comment, 'My mirth it much displeas'd, but pleas'd my woe' (IV.i.13), which apparently implies that her melancholy was increased by the music.  Lever's gloss of the line, however, reveals a different meaning - the correct one, I feel: 'The nature of the song did not encourage mirth but soothed my woe'. 4.26  It was recognised that music could fulfil this function: in The Compleat Gentleman (1622) Henry Peacham noted that 'music is a great lengthener of the life by stirring and reviving the spirits, holding a secret sympathy with them' and further, that 'it is an enemy to melancholy and dejection of the mind'. 4.27  The song Mariana listens to is a rejection of love, and thus purges her grief.  She realises that the Duke is likely to misconstrue her reason for listening to music, thinking that she was revelling in her sorrows, and so her first words to him put matters straight:


- 74 -

 

I cry you mercy , sir, and well could wish

You had not found me here so musical.

Let me excuse me, and believe me so;

My mirth it much displeas'd, but pleas'd my woe.

(IV.i.10-13)

 

    The rejection of love expressed in the song is relevant to the theme of love which runs through the play.  At the lowest level there is the purely sensual love pursued by the low characters, such as the love of Mistress Overdone, Pompey and Lucio, while at the highest level there is the true love of Claudio and Juliet.  Both these types of love are threatened by Angelo's application of justice.  Angelo himself experiences love of two different types: his lustful love of Isabella and his original love of Mariana, at least partly based on her dowry.  His, however, are the lips 'that so sweetly were forsworn' (IV.i.2) as, when Mariana's dowry was lost, he felt justified in deserting her.  Once again, Angelo's strict application of justice destroys love.  Mariana has been brought to the point where the only way her sorrow can be eased is by the rejection of love expressed in the song, which thus marks a climax in the play.  Her dilemma is resolved, however, shortly after the singing of the song, when the Duke's plans, being put in motion, give her hope.  Love is destroyed by justice, but fostered by mercy.

 

    Another prominent theme in the play which also appears in the song is deception, of which the Duke's disguise, essential to his manipulation of the action, is the most obvious example.  The other important deceptions all concern Angelo, to whom belong 'those eyes, the break of day | lights that do mislead the morn' (IV.i.3-4) - referring, of course, to his deception of Mariana in breaking his promise to marry her.  He also deceives Isabella in ordering Claudio's execution despite their agreement that his life should be spared.  In return, the Provost deceives Angelo in sending the head of Ragozine as proof that Claudio is dead.  Angelo is also deceived by Isabella, who is instrumental in arranging for Mariana to meet him in her stead.  In fact, Angelo is more deceived than deceiving, and the words of the song referring to his deception of Mariana are to some extent ironical.  These multiple deceptions form the backbone of the plot, and even the song itself may be deceptive:

 

... music oft hath such a charm

To make bad good, and good provoke to harm.

(IV.i.14-15)

 

Isabella listens to the song, she thinks, for her own good, not realising that if its advice were followed it would have led her away from love and happiness.  In this respect the song is deceptive, for her path lies not in


- 75 -

 

abandoning love, but in following the Duke's advice, which leads to the fulfilment of her desire in marriage to Angelo.  It has been suggested that this song is extraneous, 4.28 but in view of its close association with both the themes of the play and the action I think that it is undoubtedly Shakespearean.

 

    When compared with the Middle Comedies, the Dark Comedies are found to be musically rather bare.  This is probably attributable to the serious subject matter and its treatment, rather than any lack of interest in music on Shakespeare's part.  The few songs which do appear in these plays differ widely in their dramatic functions.  While the Clown's songs in All's Well That Ends Well are essentially part of his humorous role, they also serve to indicate that Helena is a good woman.  Pandarus' songs are vehicles for humour, but, in their ribald language, they also echo the dominant themes of decadence and corruption within the play.  Finally, 'Take, o take those lips away' serves several important dramatic functions in introducing Mariana, evoking a melancholy atmosphere, and suggesting Mariana's likely course of action if the Duke were not to intervene.  That Shakespeare had not entirely lost interest in music as a dramatic device is borne out by these songs and amply supported by the fact that music played such an important role in the last of his comedies, the Romances.

 


- 115 -

REFERENCES AND NOTES

CHAPTER FOUR

 

4.1  The stage directions are 'The Trumpets sound' (723), 'sound Trumpet' (2535) and 'trũpets cease' (2678-2679).  return

 

4.2  Frederick W. Sternfeld, 'Troilus and Cressida: Music for the Play', English Institute Essays - 1952, (1952), p.121 (hereafter cited as Sternfeld, Troilus).  return

 

4.3  The edition cited is William Shakespeare, Troilus and Cressida, ed. Kenneth Palmer (London: Methuen, 1982).  return

 

4.4  Although the stage directions do not call for a trumpet here, one is clearly implied in the dialogue.  return

 

4.5  John H. Long, Shakespeare's Use of Music: The Histories and Tragedies (Gainesville: University of Florida Press, 1971), p.135 (hereafter cited as Long, Tragedies).  return

 

4.6  This is probably an interesting case of music being played between the acts - or, if not this, then it is an example of continuous performance, with no break between Act II and Act III.  The Folio does not contain act and scene divisions in this play.  The stage direction calling for music immediately follows the conventional close of Act II: 'Exeunt.  Musicke sounds within' (1477).  There follows a blank line indicating the act division, and the first stage direction of Act III follows this: 'Enter Pandarus and a Seruant' (1478).  return

 

4.7  E.M.W. Tillyard, Shakespeare's Problem Plays (London: Chatto and Windus,


- 116 -

 

1957) p.71.  return

 

4.8  See Hamlet I.ii.143-145 and Anthony and Cleopatra II.ii.236-238.  The latter instance was pointed out to me by Professor E.R. Harty.  return

 

4.9  Partridge, pp.93 and 221-222.  return

 

4.10  Peter J. Seng, 'Pandarus' Song and Lily's Grammar', Modern Language Journal, XLVIII (1964), 212-215.  return

 

4.11  Barbara Heliodora C. de M.F. de Almeida, 'Troilus and Cressida: Romantic Love Revisited', Shakespeare Quarterly, XV (1964), 329.  return

 

4.12  Palmer, p.270 n.; a similar pun in The Taming of the Shrew has already been discussed.  return

 

4.13  Palmer, p.235 n. and Sternfeld, Troilus, p.135, are in favour of singing, while Long, Tragedies, p.144, opposes it.  return

 

4.14  Sternfeld, Troilus, pp.116-117.  return

 

4.15  The edition cited is William Shakespeare, All's Well That Ends Well, ed. G.K. Hunter, 3rd ed. (London: Methuen, 1959).  return

 

4.16  T.W. Baldwin, Shakspere's Five-Act Structure: Shakspere's Early Plays on the Background of Renaissance Theories of Five-Act Structure from 1470 (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1963), p.732.  return

 

4.17  Hunter, p.24 n.  return

 

4.18  Loc. cit.  return

 

4.19  Loc. cit.  return

 

4.20  Ibid., p.25 n.  return

 

4.21  See Scholes, pp.150, 659 and 262 for the canary, morris and coranto respectively.  return

 

4.22  The edition cited is William Shakespeare, Measure for Measure, ed. J.W. Lever, 2nd ed. (London: Methuen, 1979).  return

 

4.23  Lever attributes the lack of stage directions to 'some form of editing' (ibid., p.xxiv).  return

 

4.24  Long, Final Comedies, p.20.  return

 

4.25  Ibid., pp.20-21; Auden, p.38.  return

 

4.26  Lever, p.97 n.  return

 

4.27  Strunk, pp.332-333.  return

 

4.28  Seng, Vocal Songs, p.184.  Surprisingly Wright, pp.261-274, does not mention this song.  Halliday, p.461, lists it among the twenty-three songs he regards as genuinely Shakespearean.  return

 


 

Proceed to Chapter Five

Back to Contents

 

  homepage