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CHAPTER FIVE
THE ROMANCES
Cymbeline, The Winter's Tale
and The Tempest
The Romances are a fertile ground for the study of music in Shakespeare. They all make use of dancing (except, perhaps, Cymbeline), they all contain songs (although the text of the song Marina sings in Pericles is not preserved), and they all require instrumental music in various contexts other than the dancing and singing already mentioned. Furthermore, they are not only the final plays Shakespeare wrote (apart from his contributions to The Two Noble Kinsmen and Henry VIII), but they also reveal the development of the playwright's style during his mature years. Pericles, the first of the Romances, may be regarded as experimental, to a large extent, and it seems almost certain that it is not entirely by Shakespeare. 5.1 I propose, therefore, to start this chapter with the second of the Romances, Cymbeline.
The first musical reference in this play is to the noise of crickets: as Iachimo climbs from his trunk in Imogen's bedroom he says, 'The crickets sing, and man's o'er-labour'd sense | Repairs itself by rest' (II.ii.11-12). 5.2 The singing is, of course, metaphorical, and the mention of crickets is simply to enhance the feeling of night. As crickets are generally regarded as animals of good omen, despite being nocturnal, their singing at this point is possibly an indication that no lasting harm is to come to Imogen.
In the next scene another animal noise is used to signify the time of day, this time the song of the lark. This depicts morning, and it is used in the song with which Cloten wakens Imogen, 'Hark, hark, the lark' (II.iii.20). His purpose is to woo her, but it is clear from what he says that his thoughts go far beyond innocent courtship:
Come on, tune: if you can penetrate her with your fingering, so: we'll try with tongue too ....
(II.iii.14-15)
The pun on 'fingering' had already been used in The Taming of the Shrew (III.i.63), but in the present context it is more explicit, being followed by the reference to trying 'with tongue'. This would have raised a coarse laugh, but it also says a good deal about the character of Cloten: he is sexually depraved. This is made even more clear later in the play where he reveals his intention of murdering Posthumus with Imogen looking on, and then raping her while wearing Posthumus' clothing (III.v.135-150). The song elicits a response from Cloten which, in its crude language, reveals both his sexual depravity and his lack of appreciation of the music:
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... if this penetrate, I will consider your music the better: if it do not, it is a vice in her ears, which horse-hairs, and calves'-guts, nor the voice of unpaved eunuch to boot, can never mend.
(II.iii.27-31)
The beauty of the singer's voice signifies nothing to Cloten but that it is the voice of an 'unpaved eunuch', the 'unpaved' meaning, as Seng says, 'literally that - "without 'stones'"'. 5.3 Both Long and Noble have noted a similarity between this scene and the wooing scene in The Two Gentlemen of Verona in which Thurio courts Sylvia: 5.4 Thurio and Cloten are both loutish characters who employ musicians to do their courting for them. In this and in Cloten's obscene punning Shakespeare was drawing on and improving ideas from previous plays.
The image which appears in the first line of the song, 'Hark, hark, the lark at heaven's gate sings', seems to have been used often, for many parallels to Shakespeare's lines have been found. 5.5 The significance of the lark in this context is that it is part of the widely used bird imagery of the play, here probably referring to Imogen, who is often associated with birds. Arviragus says she is more welcome than 'morn to th' lark' (III.vii.66), a clear echo of the song, and he also refers to her as a bird when he carries her out of the cave, supposedly dead: 'The bird is dead | That we have made so much on' (IV.ii.197-198). Iachimo calls her 'th' Arabian bird' (I.vii.17), which is the phoenix, a fabulous bird associated with Egyptian divinities. 5.6 She frequently uses bird images herself, 5.7 and is described in Jupiter's tablet as 'a piece of tender air' (V.iv.139-140). It is not unlikely, therefore, that the song is a call to Imogen to join the lark singing at heaven's gate, particularly as she is asked, 'With every thing that pretty is, my lady sweet arise' (II.iii.25). The musical quality of her voice is stressed several times during the play: Pisanio is sure that Lucius will accept her in his service 'If that his head have ear in music' (III.iv.176); Cymbeline refers to the 'tune of Imogen' (V.v.238) when he recognises her in the final scene; and finally, her voice is both angelic and musical, in the opinion of Arviragus, who says, 'How angel-like he sings!' (IV.ii.48). This echoes Belarius' earlier exclamation on discovering her:
By Jupiter, an angel! or, if not,
An earthly paragon! Behold divineness
No elder than a boy!
(III.vii.15-17)
The song, in inviting Imogen to sing at the gates of heaven, recognises both her musical voice and her angelic qualities. The importance of this
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Should not be overlooked, as it will be seen that the young princes are also associated with bird and song imagery. When Belarius likens the court to 'the full-winged eagle' (III.iii.21), Guiderius innocently continues the metaphor:
... we poor unfledg'd,
Have never wing'd from view o' th' nest; nor know not
What air's from home.
(III.iii.27-29)
So does Arviragus:
We have seen nothing:
We are beastly ...
...
Our valour is to chase what flies: our cage
We make a quire, as doth the prison'd bird,
And sing our bondage freely.
(III.iii.39-44)
Arviragus' application of bird and song imagery to himself associates the princes with their sister, Imogen, and also, therefore, with royalty. To attach this weight of meaning to the first line of Cloten's song is obviously to overload it. Nevertheless, it must be viewed as a part of the imagery of the play as a whole, its contribution to which cannot be denied, even if its full significance is not grasped at first hearing.
Apart from contributing to the play's imagery, the song has other functions. A fairly obvious one is to allow Imogen time to change from her night attire which she wore at the end of the previous scene. 5.8 Without the song episode she would have about 50 lines in which to change, but the song, with the 'very excellent good-conceited' (II.iii.17) music which precedes it, adds considerably to this. Evans and Noble have seen significance in the fact that the song evidently failed to 'penetrate', 5.9 which is seen as foreshadowing Cloten's ultimate failure in wooing Imogen. This is no doubt correct, but the audience knows he has failed before (from I.iii), and the present failure is just one of many. Noble is also correct in attributing to the song the power to dispel the 'heavy stifling atmosphere' of the previous scene, 5.10 after which the cheerful music and bright imagery create an impression of clear morning.
The funeral dirge, 'Fear no more the heat o' th' sun' (IV.ii.258), recited over the supposedly dead Imogen, is very different from the song just discussed. In the play as it stands the dirge is headed 'Song' (2576), but it is not in fact sung, as Guiderius persuades Arviragus that they should say it, his reason being simply that he 'cannot sing' (IV.ii.240). It seems
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that the song was originally intended to be sung, but at some stage Shakespeare had to cover for a player who could not sing, 5.11 and it was this version which reached the Folio. Whether said or sung, the dirge is a most effective dramatic interlude. When Noble likens the song to 'the gruesome funeral games in which children love to indulge', 5.12 he is not far from the truth, but it should be remembered that the princes were in their early twenties (according to the discussion which opens the play, I.i.57-62) and beyond the age at which they would play such games. The words do, however, serve the function of pagan ritual in much the same way as the song at Hero's tomb does in Much Ado About Nothing. 5.13 In both cases the audience knows that the lamented woman is not really dead, and this being so, Seng notes that in the present scene 'a sincere outburst of grief ... would be out of place'. 5.14 On the other hand the princes and Belarius must be allowed to show some emotion over their Fidele if they are not to appear cold hearted, and the restrained language of the scene and the generalised sorrow of the song lend nobility and pathos without becoming sentimental.
The song marks the turning point in the play as far as Imogen is concerned, as her love for Posthumus has been tried and found wanting. She believed him false with 'some jay of Italy' (III.iv.49) and it requires his apparent death to make her realise his true worth. The dirge elaborates on the idea of death, preparing the audience for Imogen's reaction to finding what she thinks is the dead Posthumus. It is then that she dies, figuratively. The song has emphasised that all must 'come to dust' in the last lines of the first three stanzas, and Imogen's first words after her swoon over the dead body are, 'I am nothing; or if not, | Nothing to be were better' (IV.ii.367-368). She now realises that Posthumus was the centre of her being and without him life has become a matter of indifference. She does indeed 'Fear no more the frown o' th' great' (IV.ii.264) in Cymbeline, and she is also past fearing 'slander [and] censure rash' (IV.ii.272), as they cannot harm her more than they have already. The 'lightning-flash' (IV.ii.270) and 'thunder-stone' (IV.ii.271) are associated with Jupiter, 5.15 looking forward to his appearance in the final act. Imogen need not fear these either, as they eventually lead to her reunion with Posthumus.
The appearance of the Leonati ghosts followed by the descent of Jupiter has been attacked by many critics as poor or spurious, 5.16 but it has been most convincingly defended by Wilson Knight, who relates the episode not only to the rest of the play, but to much of the Shakespearean canon. 5.17 Nosworthy defends it on the grounds of its dramatic necessity, as it provides an agent to unravel the hopelessly tangled plot, a task no mere mortal could be expected to perform. 5.18 Similar theophanies occur in As You Like It, where Hymen's entrance is accompanied by 'Still Musicke' (2682), and in
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Pericles, where music is clearly required when Diana appears to Pericles, although no stage direction is recorded.5.19 When the ghosts, followed by Jupiter, appear in Cymbeline the stage direction requires 'Solemn Musicke' (3065), which serves the same function as music had done in the earlier theophanies: it imparts an atmosphere of the supernatural. Long sees the episode in Cymbeline as a masque, with the stage direction 'They circle Posthumus round as he lies sleeping' (3071) implying a 'formalised dance'. 5.20 This is not a dance in the commonly accepted sense, but merely an ordered and stately sequence of movements, the order of which has the merit of pre-figuring the return to order which the theophany heralds. 5.21
An earlier episode in the play also requires 'Solemn Musicke' (2482), this being ten lines before Arviragus enters carrying Imogen, supposedly dead. The sounding of Belarius' 'ingenious instrument' (IV.ii.186) is used to create a solemn atmosphere and is associated with death by Guiderius:
Since death of my dear'st mother
It did not speak before. All solemn things
Should answer solemn accidents.
(IV.ii.190-192)
The 'ingenious instrument' probably signified a mechanical device, 5.22 and the aeolian harp has been suggested. 5.23 However, this plays by the action of the wind, not being turned on or off at will, and as Arviragus was responsible for starting it, some other instrument must be implied:
... but what occasion
Hath Cadwal now to give it motion? Hark!
(IV.ii.187-188)
The instrument, which was last used at the death of Euriphile, produces music sufficiently sombre to announce Imogen's death. Its effect will be to produce an uneasy feeling in the audience that despite the fact that Cornelius had given assurances that the drug taken by Imogen is harmless, something might have gone wrong. In Romeo and Juliet there is the same uneasy feeling, which, as events proved, was justified - even though the drug itself was not to blame.
The final musical reference in Cymbeline attributes the happy ending to the gods, which is confirmation that Jupiter's role in the theophany, of restoring order amongst the mortals, is not spurious:
The fingers of the powers above do tune
The harmony of this peace.
(V.v.467-468)
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Thus the theophany, despite any imperfections, was probably part of the original play. The harmony which the gods have arranged at the end of the play would not have been possible without the removal of the many instances of feigning, counterfeit and disguise within the play. These involve nearly all the principle characters: Imogen, Posthumus, Iachimo, Belarius, the two princes, the Queen - all deceive in some way.
The theme of deception is equally important in Shakespeare's next Romance, The Winter's Tale. The first deception here is an imagined one: Leontes thinks his wife has been unfaithful to him and is passionately jealous. The musical references in what may conveniently be called the first half of the play, where the mood is dark and the action appears to be heading towards a tragic conclusion, are all in keeping with this. In Leontes' first open declaration of his jealousy, dancing is used to convey his passion:
I have tremor cordis on me: my heart dances,
But not for joy - not joy.
(I.ii.110-111) 5.24
Pafford suggests that 'to speak of the heart dancing for joy was common usage', 5.25 and although Leontes does not specify why his heart dances, the cause must be more jealous anger than merely sorrow, the opposite of joy. His use of dancing is thus highly ironical, as the dance would normally have signified not only joy but also harmony in marriage, the very harmony which his tremor cordis, his dancing heart, is destroying. He imagines he sees Hermione and Polixenes playing amorously:
... to be paddling palms, and pinching fingers,
As now they are, and making practis'd smiles
As in a looking-glass; and then to sigh, as 'twere
The mort o' th' deer - O, that is entertainment
My bosom likes not, nor my brows.
(I.ii.115-119)
'The mort o' th' deer' is the hunting horn call used to announce the death of the quarry, 5.26 a curious image for Leontes to use, having associations with both the animal's death and the hunter's victory. Perhaps a pun on 'deer' is intended, 5.27 the sigh signifying to Leontes both the death of Hermione's love for him and the victory of Polixenes in winning her love. The brief exchange with Mamillius which follows shows Leontes still preoccupied with this jealous passion and he thinks he sees Polixenes with Hermione 'Still virginalling | Upon his palm' (I.ii.125-126). The virginal was a small harpsichord apparently so named because it was frequently played by young women, 5.28 and so this musical image, like the dancing image
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before it, is loaded with irony. Hermione was obviously not a virgin, but, as far as Leontes could see, she was not chaste either. Furthermore, the musical image should have denoted marital harmony, instead of which it signifies the immoral harmony Leontes imagines between Hermione and Polixenes.
Two other musical references occur in the first half of the play, one when Paulina says of her proposed visit to Leontes,
If I prove honey-mouth'd, let my tongue blister,
And never to my red-looked anger be
The trumpet any more.
(II.ii.33-35)
The trumpet referred to here is the man who went before a herald and is thus associated with the bringer of strident proclamations, 5.29 rather like the indignant and angry Paulina who visits Leontes in the next scene. The other musical reference in the first half occurs when Antigonus deposits the baby Perdita in Bohemia during a raging storm, with music having unhappy associations yet again:
The day frowns more and more: thou'rt like to have
A lullaby too rough: I never saw
The heavens so dim by day. A savage clamour!
(III.iii.54-56)
The 'savage clamour' is ironical, for it actually serves not as a lullaby for Perdita but as a knell for Antigonus, who dies at the hands of a bear. Perdita, on the other hand, has the good fortune to be found by the Shepherd. The deaths of Antigonus and all who assisted in the carrying away of the young princess may be seen as an act of vengeance on the part of the gods. The tragic and destructive passion of Leontes has wrought its full evil effect, and sixteen years pass, during which Time exerts his healing influence. The restoring of Perdita and Hermione to Leontes is the main concern of the second part of the play.
The regeneration which Time has performed is symbolised in Act IV.iv, the sheep-shearing feast, which is in complete contrast to the first half of the play. Long has noted the similarities between Act IV and the Stuart masques which were then very popular; 5.30 it would appear that masques did have some influence in the writing of this act, but, as with the masque-like scenes in some of the earlier plays, the masque is not and end in itself, extraneous to the rest of the play. Here its most obvious function is to highlight the comic section of the play and contrast it with the tragic. Autolycus is one of its principal characters, his function being to provide the songs used by Shakespeare in creating the light, happy mood required.
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Autolycus takes his name from a character in Greek mythology, one of Hermes' sons, noted as a thief who used his power of turning things invisible to assist him in his thefts. 5.31 Shakespeare's Autolycus is, like his original, a thief, although he lacks magic powers. That such a scoundrel as Autolycus is liked by the audience may be attributed largely to the happy songs he sings. 5.32
The first of Autolycus' songs, 'When daffodils begin to peer' (IV.iii.1), goes a long way in establishing his character as a merry rogue and also enhances his entry most effectively. 5.33 His song sets the scene in summer, with its daffodils, 5.34 white sheets bleaching on the hedge, lark, thrush and jay. There is a carefree juxtaposition of these summery images in each stanza with something mischievous: the daffodils remind Autolycus of his doxy (or prostitute); 5.35 the 'sweet o' the year' (IV.iii.3), a phrase suggestive of earth's foison, is followed by 'For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale' (IV.iii.4), which may be interpreted as meaning sexual activity increases as winter recedes; 5.36 in the second stanza the bleaching of white sheets on the hedge and the singing of birds give Autolycus an appetite for thieving; 5.37 and finally, the bird-calls in the third stanza are
... summer songs for me and my aunts,
While we lie tumbling in the hay.
(IV.iii.11-12)
As 'aunt' is yet another euphemism for a prostitute, 5.38 'tumbling in the hay' is obviously suggestive of sexual activity. The song is thus constructed in a masterly way to serve two ends: its summery images set the scene, while their association with the mischievous or bawdy depicts the character of Autolycus.
Before starting his second song, 'But shall I go mourn for that, my dear?' (IV.iii.15), Autolycus briefly explains that he once served Florizel, and his song reveals that, having lost his position in court, he became a vagabond disguised as a tinker. This clear statement of his roguery continues the characterisation given in the earlier song and complements the self-portrait which follows, in which Autolycus describes himself as 'a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles' (IV.iii.26). In thus marking him out as an amiable rogue, Shakespeare has prepared the audience for the robbing of the Clown, which might otherwise have seemed heartless. 5.39
Before the Clown has his pockets picked by Autolycus he reveals to the audience some of the plans for the sheep-shearing feast of the next scene. Among other things he says,
She hath made me four-and-twenty nosegays for the shearers, three-man song-men all, and very good ones; but they are most of
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them means and basses but one puritan amongst them, and he sings psalms to hornpipes.
(IV.iii.40-45)
This anticipates both the floral and musical aspects of the next scene: the shepherds, being 'three-man song-men' would be able to sing songs in three parts, 5.40 but that they will not actually sing is indicated by the fact that they are nearly all 'means and basses', that is, middle and lower voices. This situation is in itself funny, but Shakespeare extends the humour by poking fun at the Puritans, frequently used as a source of humour, 5.41 and here made to look ridiculous by the idea of singing 'psalms to hornpipes'. This relies for its comic effect on the same absurdity as had been used in The Merry Wives of Windsor, where Mrs Ford mentions the suitability of 'the hundred Psalms to the tune of "Greensleeves"' (II.i.60-61). In the present scene the hornpipe may refer to either a single reed musical instrument or a brisk dance originally accompanied by the hornpipe. 5.42 Both are comically inappropriate to psalm singing and to the Puritans, who were popularly thought to disapprove of music and dancing. 5.43
Autolycus opened this scene by entering with a song, and he closes it in much the same way, singing 'Jog on, jog on, the footpath way' (IV.iii.119) as he leaves. This song is possibly not Shakespeare's own, 5.44 and two further stanzas are known to exist, 5.45 although these may be later additions. The stanza which Autolycus sings is appropriate not only as an exit song for a strolling thief, but, like his previous two songs, it characterises the singer: 5.46 his 'merry heart goes all the day' (IV.iii.121).
With his three merry songs and his impudence Autolycus has radically changed the mood of the play from one of gloomy tragedy to summery exuberance. His main function has been to prepare the way for the pastoral sheep-shearing feast of the next scene, where Perdita is the central figure. She and Florizel are the epitome of youthful vigour and purity, being, as they are, in harmony with 'great creating nature' (IV.iv.88). This is symbolised in the music and dancing which runs through the scene, contrasting with the sombre musical imagery associated with Leontes, who, in denying that Perdita is his daughter, is at odds with the 'good goddess Nature' (II.iii.103). Music is first mentioned when the Shepherd gently chides Perdita for being backward in her duties as hostess, reminding her that, at these feasts, his wife 'would sing her song and dance her turn' (IV.iv.58). Later, Florizel uses singing and dancing in praise of Perdita:
When you speak, sweet
I'd have you do it ever: when you sing,
I'd have you buy and sell so, so give alms,
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Pray so, and, for the ord'ring your affairs,
To sing them too: when you so dance, I wish you
A wave o' th' sea, that you might ever do
Nothing but that, move still, still so,
And own no other function.
(IV.iv.136-143)
This charming eulogy makes admirable use of dance imagery in that the regular movements of the dance are associated with the wave motion of the sea, suggested by the rhythm of the lines - particularly the repeated 'Nothing but that, move still, still so'. The whole passage emphasises Perdita's harmony with Nature, and also, of course, serves as a symbol of the harmony between Perdita and Florizel, which is made clear a few lines later:
But come; our dance, I pray,
Your hand, my Perdita: so turtles pair
That never mean to part.
(IV.iv.153-155)
This is followed by 'a Daunce of Shepheards and Shephearddesses' (1988-1989) which serves the same function as the dancing imagery just discussed: it is a symbol of the harmony between Perdita and Florizel, and Perdita and Nature - the latter being enhanced by its rustic character. Furthermore, it ensures that the attention is still focused on Perdita and Florizel, for while the dance is in progress the disguised Polixenes discusses the couple with the Shepherd. Perdita's perfection is brought to the fore:
Pol.
She dances featly.
Shep.
So she does any thing, though I report it
That should be silent.
(IV.iv.178-180)
The dance has just finished when a servant enters to announce the arrival of a pedlar of ballads and millinery. The Clown's confusion in stating his preference for 'doleful matter merrily set down; or a very pleasant thing indeed, and sung lamentably' (IV.iv.190-192) and the servant's rustic stupidity in stating that the songs are 'so without bawdry' (IV.iv.195-196), followed by examples which patently are bawdy, 5.47 contribute to the humour of the scene. Finally the pedlar, who is none other than Autolycus in disguise, enters singing. His disguise is part of an important theme in the play which has already been mentioned: the hiding of reality under false appearances. Here the counterfeiting is made more prominent by the use of song. Autolycus is a man of many roles, but his true character is revealed in his name: he is a merry, thieving rogue, as was seen at his first appearance.
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The audience, therefore, has no difficulty in seeing through his disguise and enjoying watching the simple rustics being gulled by him. Because his first song in this scene, 'Lawn as white as driven snow' (IV.iv.220), has many parallels, 5.48 it seems almost certain that it was a typical pedlar's song, similar to those actually used in the streets. Seng says Autolycus' 'song perfectly portrays him as an itinerant hawker of ballads', 5.49 which is correct in so far as the song does characterise him in his new disguise - but as a seller of millinery, not ballads. The Clown and Servant had already mentioned that he sells ballads, and it is these that ultimately attract Mopsa and Dorcas. Their concern for veracity, but inability to discern the most blatant lies, points to their simplicity, and this, together with the absurd contents of Autolycus' ballads, is the main vehicle for humour in this episode. 5.50 The discussion inevitably leads to the singing of a song by Mopsa, Dorcas and Autolycus, 'Get you hence for I must go' (IV.iv.298), the words of which not only anticipate the exits of the three characters, but also concern an amusing case of deception in a three-cornered love affair. They are therefore a light-hearted reminder of the discord in the first half of the play, putting Leontes' jealousy into its proper perspective. The song adds to the general festive atmosphere of the scene and serves as an excuse to remove from the stage the three singers and the Clown, who go off to finish their song and to discuss other ballads. Autolycus, as before, exits singing - in this case another pedlar's song, 'Will you buy any tape' (IV.iv.316), once again concerned with millinery.
This leaves the stage slightly clearer for the performance of the 'Dance of twelue Satyres' (2164), which is the most obvious symbol of 'great creating nature' in the scene. The Satyrs, part of the retinue of Dionysus in Greek mythology, were associated with vintage and floral festivals, 5.51 and thus represented fertility in nature, often being depicted as sensuous and lascivious. It is possible that this aspect of the dance may have prompted Polixenes in his decision to part Perdita and Florizel, for, at the close of the dance, he comments, 'Is it not too far gone? 'Tis time to part them' (IV.iv.145). In fact Long maintains that 'the shadow of Polixenes' wrath, which gradually envelopes the festival, is fed by the music' throughout the scene, 5.52 but there is little evidence for this. The real cause of Polixenes' anger is the 'unfilial' (IV.iv.407) behaviour of Florizel in mentioning the inheritance he expects at his father's death (IV.iv.388-389) and in refusing to inform his father of his intended marriage (IV.iv.392-418). Florizel has become a victim of his father's disguise. In fact the whole masque-like sheep-shearing festival is a celebration of counterfeiting, as Perdita reveals at the outset:
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Your high self,
The gracious mark o' th' land, you have obscur'd
With a swain's wearing, and me, poor lowly maid,
Most goddess-like prank'd up ....
(IV.iv.7-10)
Perdita's disguise as the queen of the feast anticipates the ultimate recognition of her royal descent. Ironically, this recognition can be brought about only by the removal of all disguises, a traumatic experience for those concerned. In this scene the Satyrs, themselves disguised rustics, initiate the removal of disguises by means of their dance, with its sexual overtones which prompt Polixenes to reveal his true identity. This in turn results in Florizel's identity becoming known to the Shepherd, and leads to the flight of the young lovers to Sicilia.
The final use of music in The Winter's Tale is at Paulina's injunction: 'Music, awake her; strike!' (V.iii.98). This accompanies the apparent bringing to life of the statue of Hermione, which constitutes the final removal of counterfeit within the play. Although this is not a theophany, music here is associated with the supernatural as it had been in the theophanies of Pericles and Cymbeline. While the gods do not actually appear on stage, the outcome was clearly predicted in the Oracle's prophecy read in Act III. As Hermione starts to move, Paulina says, 'her actions shall be as holy as | You hear my spell is lawful' (V.iii.104-105). The audience would, no doubt, have suspected by this time what Paulina was doing, but, as Long remarks, 'We like to watch the magician even though we know his tricks'. 5.53 Nosworthy associates the music with a 're-creative or regenerative force', while Wilson Knight sees it as 'the specifically releasing agent'. 5.54 The point is that Hermione's coming to life is symbolic of the regeneration Time has wrought, which was a supernatural process, and the music is appropriate.
Time also has a healing effect in the final Romance, The Tempest. Here, however, Time is considerably assisted by Prospero's use of magic to control certain events. The theme of feigning, counterfeiting and equivocation observed in As You Like It and the two earlier Romances is here transformed into one of role acting by Prospero and those he manipulates. 5.55 Music is frequently associated with the magic used by Prospero to achieve his ends. Ariel is himself supernatural and, at Prospero's request, he sings his first songs in the guise of 'a nymph o' th' sea' (I.ii.301). 5.56 Ferdinand, having survived the shipwreck, is led on to the stage to the accompaniment of Ariel's singing, and the imagery of his song derives from a courtly dance. It is as if Ferdinand were being invited to a masque or ball:
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Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands:
Courtsied when you have and kiss'd
The wild waves whist:
Foot it featly here and there
....
(I.ii.377-381)
The supernatural nature of the music is emphasised by Ferdinand's remark: 'Where should this music be? i' th' earth?' (I.ii.390); and after Ariel's second song he says, 'This is no mortal business, nor no sound | That the earth owes: - I hear it now above me' (I.ii.409-410). The significance of this is that Prospero, through his Art, is in full control of the island and its inhabitants. Both the storm and Ferdinand have been influenced by the music:
Sitting on a bank,
Weeping again the King my father's wrack,
This music crept by me upon the waters,
Allaying both their fury and my passion
With its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it,
Or it hath drawn me rather.
(I.ii.392-397)
The dance in Ariel's song is, as usual, a symbol of matrimony, and the invitation to dance is compelling: Prospero has brought Ferdinand to the island with the intention of having him wed Miranda. This is seen in his remark on observing their instant love for one another: 'It goes on, I see, | As my soul prompts it' (I.ii.422-423). The song thus foreshadows the harmony that will exist between the young lovers. The dance is to take place after the waves have been stilled, which presages the fact that Alonso and Prospero will be reconciled before the marriage takes place: the tempest is a symbol of the discord between them.
Ariel's first song also performs the function of setting the scene. The yellow sands and waves were not represented on the stage, but they would be present in the minds of the audience as a result of the song. The imitations of the barking of watch dogs and the 'strain of strutting chanticleer' (I.ii.388) also add colour, setting the time of day at early morning. Long suggests that the 'song is accompanied by a distant barking of dogs and crowing of cocks', 5.57 but this would detract from the enjoyment of the song, spoiling the musical effect. It may be likened to the mistake bottom made in having Wall and Moonshine present on the stage: it credits the audience with no powers of imagination at all.
Before Ferdinand has finished pondering the implications of the first song, Ariel is singing again, 'Full fadom five thy father lies' (I.ii.399).
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The intention is clearly to confirm for Ferdinand that his father has been lost in the storm, and the rich sea imagery transforms a horrible death by drowning into something beautiful, 'something rich and strange' (I.ii.404). Atkinson points out that the underwater world was fully as mysterious and romantic in Shakespeare's time as were the recently discovered lands in the New World. 5.58 Use is made of this in the song, with its theme of change, to play subtly upon the imaginations of the audience, preparing them for the wonders which are to follow, 'the subtleties o' the isle, that will not let you | Believe things certain' (V.i.124-125). The theme of change in the song is significant, for Alonso is to be changed during his stay on the island by Propero's Art: 5.59 his 'sea-change' (I.ii.403) is a cleansing from guilt. In Richard III Clarence, in a paroxysm of guilt, dreams of his 'scourge for perjury' (I.iv.50), 5.60 part of which is remarkably like Alonso's: Clarence thought he saw
... a thousand fearful wrecks;
Ten thousand men that fishes gnaw'd upon;
Wedges of gold, great anchors, heaps of pearl,
Inestimable stones, unvalu'd jewels,
All scatter'd in the bottom of the sea.
Some lay in dead men's skulls, and in the holes
Where eyes did once inhabit, there were crept -
As 'twere in scorn of eyes - reflecting gems,
That woo'd the slimy bottom of the deep,
And mock'd the dead bones that lay scatter'd by.
(I.iv.24-33)
The sea in both instances is an agent of change, but while in Clarence's vision it is fearful and destructive, punishing the guilty, in Ferdinand's case it is salutary. Without the song Alonso's apparent death remains ugly, and Prospero would seem to be inflicting unnecessary suffering on Ferdinand. Furthermore, for Ferdinand to be 'Sitting on a bank, | Weeping again' (I.ii.392-393) over his father's death only a few moments before he falls passionately in love with Miranda would seem inconsistent, were it not for Ariel's song, which removes the unpleasantness from Alonso's death, thus making the love affair possible. This has all been carefully planned by Prospero, and that he has succeeded in comforting Ferdinand by means of Ariel's songs has already been noted in his saying that the music had allayed his 'passion' (I.ii.395),
The next use of music in the play is one of several in which instrumental music is used for supernatural purposes. In Act II, after Gonzalo has expounded the virtues of his commonwealth, Ariel enters 'playing solemne Musicke' (862), which initially sends all the company to sleep - except Alonso, Sebastian and Antonio; but finally even Alonso succumbs, leaving
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Sebastian and Antonio free to plan their treachery. This is clearly a piece of stage-management on the part of Ariel, although there is good reason for Sebastian's and Antonio's remaining awake: they are the most evil in the company and the discord in their souls prevents the harmony of the music working upon them. Alonso does not fall asleep as soon as Gonzalo, but the fact that he does eventually fall asleep indicates that he is ripe for repentance. 5.61 The sea-change is already at work.
Having given Antonio and Sebastian the chance to plan the murder of Alonso, Ariel must prevent them from putting their plans into action, which he does by singing in Gonzalo's ear,
While you here do snoring lie,
Open-ey'd conspiracy
His time doth take.
(II.i.295-297)
At first sight the use of music here seems superfluous. Its introduction is slightly awkward, as Sebastian and Antonio, having fully discussed their plans, must suddenly remember something else to discuss aside while Ariel sings. Music is necessary, however: solemn music had induced the magic sleep, and so Ariel's magic song is required to break the spell. Naturally, on waking Gonzalo does not remember the words of the song, which actually tell him of the conspiracy - but this is part of the magic.
The next scene introduces Trinculo and Stephano. Noble points out that although Stephano is a butler, he associates himself with what he considers a superior class, the sailors. 5.62 Actually, his first attempt at song sounds more like a landlubber's lament, very appropriate to one who has just escaped drowning at sea:
I shall no more to sea, to sea,
Here shall I die ashore, -
(I.ii.43-44)
'a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's funeral' (II.ii.45). It is quickly abandoned in favour of the more boisterous 'The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I' (II.ii.47), a bawdy song which immediately reveals that Stephano is a low-life character, thus preparing the audience for his subsequent relationship with Caliban. The song is full of typical extrovert bravado: Stephano declares his love for 'Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery' (II.ii.49), all of whom have been identified with notorious whores of the day. 5.63 On the other hand Kate, who would not condescend to love a sailor, is dismissed with 'let her go hang' (II.ii.55) - particularly as she preferred the services of tailors to sailors: 'a tailor might scratch her where'er
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she did itch' (II.ii.54).
Caliban's song, 'Farewell, master; farewell, farewell!' (II.ii.178), comes at the end of this scene, in which he decides to follow Stephano. He asserts that he will not work for Prospero again:
No more dams I'll make for fish;
Nor fetch firing
At requiring;
Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash dish:
'Ban, 'Ban, Cacaliban
Has a new master: - get a new man.
(II.ii.180-185)
This is in keeping with what has already been seen of Caliban, and it invites comparison with Ariel. Both are forced to work for Prospero against their wills, but while Ariel gracefully accepts his term of service, recognising both his debt to Prospero and the superior powers of his master, Caliban, the 'saluage and deformed slaue', 5.64 cannot see this, and works begrudgingly. The last two lines of the song (quoted above) have provoked some comment: they suggest intoxication to Kermode, while Noble likens them to a primitive chant (although his reason for doing so - a comparison with young boys' games - is unconvincing). 5.65 Kermode has suggested that James Rosier's record of a ceremonial dance in Purchas His Pilgrimage (1613) may have inspired the 'Burthen dispersedly' (525) of 'Come unto these yellow sands', as Rosier uses the words 'Baugh, Waugh', while Shakespeare has 'bowgh wawgh' (526). 5.66 While Kermode does not extend the idea of dancing to Caliban's song, the rhythm of the lines - particularly ''Ban, 'Ban, Cacaliban' - is strongly suggestive of a savage dance, in keeping with the idea of Caliban as a 'salvage' man. The reference to making dams for fish in the first line of the song indicates that Caliban is a primitive savage, for, as Kermode notes, the colonists (in this context, Prospero) depended on the natives for both water and fish. 5.67
Caliban, Stephano and Trinculo are next seen in Act III.ii, where they plot Prospero's murder. Caliban is so pleased with the idea that he asks Stephano to sing, and the latter obliges by attempting to sing a catch with Trinculo: 'Flout 'em and cout 'em' (III.ii.119). No sooner have they started singing than Caliban remarks, 'That's not the tune' (III.ii.122), which indicates their inability to harmonise in music and anticipates their inability to work together to achieve their evil goals. 5.68 At this point Ariel takes control by giving the correct tune, which he 'plaies ... on a Tabor and Pipe' (1481). This inspires fear in Stephano and Trinculo, but not in Caliban, who is used to such things:
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Be not afeard' the isle is full of noises,
Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears; and sometimes voices,
That, if I then had wak'd after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open, and show riches
Ready to drop upon me; that, when I wak'd,
I cried to dream again.
(III.ii.133-141)
This is Caliban's most moving speech. His response to the music shows that he is not entirely beyond redemption and prepares the way for his repentance in the last scene. Stephano's reaction, on the other hand, is typical of the rogue he is: 'This will prove a brave kingdom to me, where I shall have my music for nothing' (III.ii.142-143). Apart from revealing Caliban's potential for redemption (and Stephano's lack of it), Ariel's music serves the more practical function of charming the three conspirators into following him through the mire of stagnant pools, thus delaying their attack on Prospero.
In the next scene the action returns to the conspiracy of Sebastian and Antonio, and with it comes the first of the masque-like episodes in the play. Wickham identifies this as the anti-masque to the more elaborate masque presided over by Iris in the following scene. 5.69 It contains the necessary grotesque elements with its 'Solemne and strange Musicke', 'severall strange shapes', 'Ariell (like a Harpey)' and 'daunce (with mockes and mowes)' (1535, 1536, 1538 and 1617 respectively). The function of this episode, in which a banquet is presented to the 'three men of sin' (III.iii.53) and then removed before they have a chance to eat anything, is quite clear. Its confusion 'mirrors the unnatural and disorderly spiritual state' of Alonso, Sebastian and Antonio. 5.70 Wilson Knight has noted the significance of feasts in Shakespeare's plays, 5.71 concluding that they are normally symbolic of harmony and happiness. However, this interrupted feast, like those in Timon of Athens and Macbeth, may be 'related to the two main Shakespearian evils of unfaithfulness and crime'. 5.72 Clearly the three guilty men are out of tune with the natural harmony of the world, which is presented to them not only in the banquet, but also in the first dance with its 'gentle actions of salutations' (1537). Their guilt prevents them partaking of the symbolic food, and the second dance, 'with mockes and mowes' (1617), is really a caricature of a dance, a symbol of the discord resulting from sin.
The dramatic function of the anti-masque is to bring home to Alonso, Sebastian and Antonio their guilt, and with the aid of Ariel's magic (once again enhanced by music) it succeeds. One of Alonso's early sins was to
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upset the harmony of the state. He,
... having both the key
Of officer and office, set all hearts i' th' state
To what tune pleas'd his ear ....
(I.ii.83-85)
Aptly, he uses musical imagery to express the recognition of his guilt:
O, it is monstrous!
Methought the billows spoke, and told me of it;
The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder,
That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd
The name Prosper: it did bass my trespass.
(III.iii.95-99)
Alonso sees his sin as a crime against Nature; the tempest's waves, wind and thunder are finally recognised by him as symbols of his guilt. The thunder and lightning of the anti-masque serve much the same function, as does the storm at the meeting of Trinculo, Stephano and Caliban. Trinculo, although unaware that he is to be part of the conspiracy to murder Prospero, says, 'another storm brewing; I hear it sing i' th' wind' (II.ii.19-20).
Tempests are, of course, conspicuously absent from the masque in Act IV. Its theme of fertility is reminiscent of the masque in The Winter's Tale and its main function is to serve as an epithalamium for Miranda and Ferdinand. Wickham sees a complex political iconography in it and Long hints at this as well, 5.73 but such interpretations, whether intended by Shakespeare or not, are surely extraneous to the play.
The masque is ushered in by 'Soft musick' (1716), once again representing the supernatural. During the proceedings Juno and Ceres sing a nuptial song, 'Honour, riches, marriage-blessing' (IV.i.106). Juno, goddess of marriage and childbirth, 5.74 had been mentioned in the wedding song in As You Like It, 'Wedding is great Juno's crown' (V.iv.140), and her function on such occasions is to bestow 'marriage-blessing, | Long continuance, and increasing' (IV.i.106-107) on the couple to be wedded. Ceres, an agrarian divinity, 5.75 promises 'Earth's increase, foison plenty' (IV.i.110). As a further symbol of prosperity and harmony, Reapers and Nymphs perform a 'gracefull dance' (1806), which comes to an untimely end when Prospero remembers the conspiracy against his life. The thought of this evil destroys the vision of harmony, which vanishes 'to a strange hollow and confused noyse' (1807-1808).
Shortly afterwards Caliban, Stephano and Trinculo enter and are distracted from their purpose of murdering Prospero by the splendid garments
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which Ariel had left in their way. On seeing the clothing Trinculo cries out 'O King Stephano! O peer! O worthy Stephano!' (IV.i.222). This clearly recalls a popular ballad which Shakespeare had used in Othello; 5.76 the relevant lines are:
King Stephen was a worthy peer,
His breeches cost him but a crown;
...
'Tis pride that pulls the country down,
Then take thine owd cloak about thee.
(II.iii.83-90) 5.77
The reference is both comic and ironic. Stephano would certainly not make a worthy king, but he still insists on donning Prospero's apparel instead of his own 'owd cloak'. Clearly he is motivated by pride of appearance - but this, far from pulling the country down, actually saves it. While the rogues are preoccupied with their find, help arrives and they are routed: 'A noyse of Hunters heard. Enter diuers Spirits in shape of Dogs and Hounds, hunting them about' (1929-1930). No doubt the hunt here is backed by not only the conventional hunting cries but also the sound of horns, as it had been in The Taming of the Shrew and A Midsummer Night's Dream. It has been suggested that the episode corresponds to an anti-masque, 5.78 but it is very brief and lacks the formality which the anti-masque, though grotesque and often boisterous, usually exhibited.
The final use of magic music occurs just before Prospero renounces his Art:
... when I have requir'd
Some heavenly music, - which even now I do, -
To work mine end upon their senses, that
This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff ....
(V.i.51-54)
To the sounds of 'Solemne musicke' (2008) Alonso and his party enter and stand in the magic circle made by Prospero. Music here is accorded the power of healing:
A solemn air, and the best comforter
To an unsettled fancy, cure thy brains ....
(V.i.58-59)
That music had this power was generally accepted, with biblical evidence to support the idea. In the seventh century Isidore of Seville had remarked on this: 'Music also composes distraught minds, as may be read of David,
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who freed Saul from the unclean spirit by the art of melody'. 5.79 Thus music is not only instrumental in bringing on guilty madness in the anti-masque but is also responsible for its removal.
The final song in the play occurs shortly after the malefactors have been cured of their madness. Prospero removes his magic robe and resumes his garment of state while Ariel sings 'Where the bee sucks' (V.i.88) as he helps Prospero to change. Here Ariel, for the first time, sings about himself and the life he hopes to lead when released from Prospero's service. The imagery of birds and flowers paints a delicate picture of happiness and freedom in only seven lines of song. Here Ariel is a small fairy, a close relative of those in A Midsummer Night's Dream: he is small enough to take refuge in a cowslip's bell. The song serves as a final contrast of Ariel with Caliban, whose reaction to the prospect of freedom had been an incoherent shouting, 'Freedom, high-day! high-day, freedom! freedom, high-day, freedom!' (II.ii.186-187). But this in not the Caliban of the final act. He vows he will 'be wiser hereafter, | And seek for grace' (V.i.294-295). Ariel's song looks forward to his release from bondage and a time of happiness, not only for himself, but for all the characters in the play.
This happy conclusion has clearly been brought about by Prospero's manipulation of the various characters involved. In renouncing his Art and liberating Ariel, who had been his principal agent in exercising control over events, Prospero is preparing to live out the rest of his life as a normal man. This finds parallels in the earlier Romances where all feigning and counterfeiting is revealed before the denouements. Music is an important device used by Prospero in his control of events, not only in Ariel's early songs, which lead to the union of Ferdinand and Miranda celebrated in the masque and its music, but also in the later music and songs which bring about the repentance of Alonso, Sebastian and Antonio. In addition, music has been used to control Caliban, who is familiar with the island's 'sounds and sweet airs' (III.ii.134) and is greatly moved by them, as has already been seen. Ariel also manipulates Caliban, Stephano and Trinculo with his tabor and pipe. Prospero has been forced to adopt his role as controller of events in order to restore the harmony originally destroyed by the evils of Alonso, Sebastian and Antonio, and, to a lesser extent, Caliban, Stephano and Trinculo. The Romances thus form a closely linked group of plays, not only in the similarities in their use of music, but also thematically, in that the disruption of harmony gives rise to the necessity for some form of role playing, counterfeiting or equivocation in order for harmony to be restored. Once this is achieved at the end of each play, the characters drop their lives of appearance and resume their lives
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of reality. All of these plays have some association with the supernatural, enhanced by the use of suitable music, and it is the supernatural which eventually leads to the happy conclusion. In fact, Ariel's music and Prospero's Art are so closely interwoven with plot and the dramatic action as to be inseparable - a fitting climax to Shakespeare's use of music in his comedies. I have emphasised throughout the dramatic integrity of the music, songs and dances in these plays, and nowhere is this more evident that in The Tempest.
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CHAPTER FIVE
5.1 His authorship of the first two acts is most in question. See William
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Shakespeare, Pericles, ed. F.D. Hoeniger (London: Methuen, 1963), pp.lii-lxiii and pp.171-180. The experimental nature of Pericles is discussed on pp.lxxiv-lxxv. return
5.2 The edition cited is William Shakespeare, Cymbeline, ed. J.M. Nosworthy (London: Methuen, 1955). return
5.3 Seng, Vocal Songs, p.216. Curiously, Seng suggests that this implies that the singer was a boy, not a castrato. return
5.4 Long, Final Comedies, p.51; Noble, p.131. return
5.5 Nosworthy, p.221; Seng, Vocal Songs, p.216. return
5.7 Wilson Knight lists some of these: G. Wilson Knight, The Crown of Life: Essays in Interpretation of Shakespeare's Final Plays (London: Methuen, 1961), p.l97. return
5.8 Granville-Barker, Second Series, p.267; Long, Final Comedies, p.52. return
5.9 Willa McClung Evans, 'Shakespeare's "Hark hark ye larke"', Publications of the Modern Language Association, LX (1945), 97-98; Noble, p.41. return
5.11 Ibid., pp.136-137. return
5.13 The dirge was meant to be pagan, in keeping with most of the play. Corin has shown that any apparently Christian allusions in the dirge are coincidental or anachronistic. See Fernand Corin, 'A Note on the Dirge in Cymbeline', English Studies, XL (1959), 173-179. return
5.14 Seng, Vocal Songs, p.225. return
5.15 Nosworthy, p.140 n. return
5.16 For example, Granville-Barker, Second Series, p.236 and Arthur Quiller-Couch, Shakespeare's Workmanship (London: T. Fisher Unwin, 1919), p.236. return
5.17 Wilson Knight, pp.168-202. return
5.18 Nosworthy, p.140 n. return
5.19 Hoeniger, pp.lxxviii and 153 n. return
5.20 Long, Final Comedies, pp.61-64. return
5.21 Long sees the whole masque episode as 'symbolic of the death, resurrection, reunion, and recognition theme pervading the final comedies' (Long, Final Comedies, p.61), but I think this extends the symbolism too far. return
5.22 Nosworthy, p.134 n. return
5.23 Wilson Knight, p.160. return
5.24 The edition cited is William Shakespeare, The Winter's Tale, ed. J.H.P. Pafford (London: Methuen, 1973). return
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5.26 Onions, p.1283: 'Mort sb. ... 2. Hunting. The note sounded on a horn at the death of the deer 1500'. This example from The Winter's Tale is then cited. return
5.27 William Shakespeare, The Winter's Tale, ed. Arthur Quiller-Couch and John Dover Wilson (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1968), p.133. return
5.28 See Onions, p.2361: 'Virginal ... sb. 1530. [app. f. as next, but the reason for the name is obsc.] A keyed musical instrument ...'. The 'as next' refers to 'Virginal ... a. ... 1. Of or pertaining to a virgin or to virginity'. See also Scholes, p.457. return
5.30 Long, Final Comedies, pp.69-70. return
5.32 Noble, p.96; Long, Final Comedies, pp.71-72. return
5.34 Although daffodils bloom in March and April, the season here is late summer: 'the year growing ancient, | Not yet a summer's death nor the birth | Of trembling winter' (IV.iv.79-81). return
5.35 Onions, p.557: 'Doxy ... 1530 [?] A beggar's trull; hence, slang, a paramour, prostitute; dial. a sweetheart'. return
5.36 Seng, Vocal Songs, p.228, lists the various attempts to explain this line, but none treats 'pale' as a verb; here the form 'pale' is used for the gerund, 'paling', to fit in with the verse. return
5.37 Seng, Vocal Songs, p.228-229, lists the various glosses of 'Doth set my pugging tooth an edge' (IV.iii.7). The sense is clear enough, and, as Noble says, 'the theft of sheets would provide the wherewithal to purchase a quart of ale' (p.95). return
5.38 Onions, p.123: 'Aunt ... 3. A procuress; a prostitute -1678'. return
5.43 Pafford, p.84 n., refers to 'the Puritan's disapproval of music and dancing', but in fact the Puritans did not object to music, except for the use of elaborate music in Church. There is much evidence that they actually enjoyed music. See Scholes, pp.844-847. return
5.44 Pafford, p.88 n. and p.173. return
5.45 Seng, Vocal Songs, p.236. return
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5.47 Pafford, pp.101-102 nn. return
5.48 Seng, Vocal Songs, pp.240-242, and Pafford, p.103 n., list some of them. return
5.49 Seng, Vocal Songs, p.242. return
5.51 Guirand, pp.155-161. return
5.52 Long, Final Comedies, pp.74-87. return
5.54 J.M. Nosworthy, 'Music and Its Function in the Romances of Shakespeare', Shakespeare Survey, XI (1958), p.67 (this work is not cited again); Wilson Knight, p.124. return
5.55 The presence of this theme in The Tempest was pointed out to me privately by Professor E.R. Harty. return
5.56 The edition cited is William Shakespeare, The Tempest, ed. Frank Kermode, 6th ed. (London: Methuen, 1958). return
5.57 Long, Final Comedies, p.96. Long's idea may derive from the direction 'Burthen dispersedly' (525). I feel, however, that the direction implies a particular musical arrangement of the line which follows in the Folio (Harke, harke, bowgh wawgh: the watch-Dogges barke, | bowgh-wawgh') and not to an accompaniment to the whole song. The Folio specifically directs Ariel to sing the last line with its 'cockadidle-dowe', and so this is strictly not part of the 'burthen' at all. return
5.58 A.D. Atkinson, '"Full fathom five"', Notes and Queries, CXCIV (1949), 465-468, 493-495. return
5.59 Seng, Vocal Songs, p.257. return
5.60 The edition cited is William Shakespeare, King Richard III, ed. Anthony Hammond (London: Methuen, 1981). return
5.61 Catherine M. Dunn, 'The Function of Music in Shakespeare's Romances', Shakespeare Quarterly, XX, 4 (1968), 403; John P. Cutts, 'Music and the Supernatural in The Tempest: A Study in Interpretation', Music and Letters, XXXIX (1958), 349-350. return
5.63 Patricia Gartenberg, 'Shakespeare's Roaring Girls', Notes and Queries, XXVII, 2 (1980), 174-175. return
5.64 This description of Caliban is given in the 'Names of the Actors' which appears alongside the epilogue on p.19 of the Comedies in the Folio. The form 'salvage' is an archaic form of 'savage'. See Onions, p.1794: 'Savage ... Also (now arch.) salvage. ME. .... A adj. I. That is in a state of nature, wild ... 5. Uncivilized; existing in the lowest stage of culture 1588'. return
5.65 Kermode, p.69 n.; Noble, p.103. return
5.66 Kermode, p.xxxiii. return
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5.68 Long, Final Comedies, p.104. return
5.69 Glynne Wickham, 'Masque and Anti-masque in The Tempest', Essays and Studies, XXVIII (1975), 4-5. return
5.71 Wilson Knight, pp.215-216. return
5.73 Wickham, pp.5-13; Long, Final Comedies, p.107. return
5.74 Guirand, pp.203-204. return
5.75 Ibid., pp.211-218. return
5.77 The edition cited is William Shakespeare, Othello, ed. M.R. Ridley, 7th ed. (London: Methuen, 1971). return
5.78 For example, Cutts, p.358; see also Kermode pp.110 n. and lxxii-lxxiii. return
5.79 Isidore of Seville, Etymologium sive originum libri xx (written between 622 and 633), in Strunk, p.94. The passage continues, 'The very beasts also, even serpents, birds and dolphins, music incites to listen to her melody'. This may be why the 'beast Caliban' (IV.i.140) responds to music as he says he does in III.ii.133-141. return
Proceed to Chapter Six