‘Most heavenly music’
In this essay I will discuss
Shakespeare’s linguistic approach to
music, with specific reference to the metaphorical and the metaphysical,
touching also on associated areas such as healing and the symbolic treatment of
the lute.
The play ‘Richard II’
offers a plethora of musical imageries,
which not only perfectly express the emotional states of key characters at key
moments, but also act as ‘leit motif’ thematically developing throughout the
work. The play can therefore be seen as
a microcosm, giving us a succinct overview of the musical elements
of Shakespeare’s metaphorical art.
Music makes an early
appearance in act one where the newly banished Mowbray states;
‘My
native English now I must forgo,
And
now my tongues’ use is to me no more
Than
an unstringed viol or harp,
Or
like a cunning instrument cas’d up-
Or
being open put into his hands
That
knows no touch to tune the harmony.
(Act
I scene iii)
Shakespeare commonly
expresses civil or personal strife metaphorically as being out of tune with
oneself or with the current paradigm. This conceit is eloquently expressed by
the later Jacobean playwright John Ford in his incestuous revenge tradgedy of
1633 ‘’Tis pity she’s a whore’.
Giovanni:-
The love of thee my sister and the view
Of thy immortal beauty hath untuned,
All harmony both of my rest and life.
(Act
1 scene ii)
The concept of the tongue as
a musical element returns and is developed in Act II of Richard II via the prophetic dying words of John of
Gaunt.
‘O’
but they say the tongues of dying men ,
Inforce
attention like deep harmony’.
(Act
2 scene I)
This perhaps gives us an
insight into the writer’s own awareness of the transcendent power of music and
its potential effect on listeners. Ironically however when Gaunt’s death is
announced;
‘His
tongue is now a stringless instrument’
(Act
2 scene I)
This definition of the end of
mortality links beautifully with the earlier utterances of both Gaunt and
Mowbray.
The play’s garden scene adds
a new element of imagery. Now separated from Richard, Isobel his queen is asked
to dance by way of a diversion from her predicament;
‘My
legs can keep no measure in delight,
When
my poor heart no measure keeps in grief’.
(Act
3, scene iv)
This adds a rhythmic element
to the idea of the inharmonious disordered mind by suggesting that it is unable
to maintain the regularity of rhythm essential for dancing. As well as its
metaphorical status this idea has a basis in medicine not unknown to the
Elizabethans, that hightened emotion can lead to a quickening or in some
instances an irregularity of heartbeat.
It is of interest to note
that other plays including ‘Much ado about nothing’ and ‘A midsummer night’s
dream’ end with communal set dances representing a return to order and also in
both of the above cases as a prelude to
connubial fulfillment.
Harmony and rhythm are united
in the play’s final reference to music in which we find Richard dethroned and
languishing in Pomfret castle prior to his regicide. Hearing musicians outside
his cell he states;
‘Music
do I hear?
Ha,ha,
keep time- how sour music is
When
time is broke and no proportion kept.
(Act
5 scene v)
Commenting on the poor
musicianship, Richard compares it to the human condition;
‘So
it is in the music of mens’ lives.
(Act
V scene v)
He reflects further on his
shattered kingship;
‘And
here I have the daintiness of ear,
To
check time in a disordered string;
But
for the concord of my state and time’
Had
not an ear to hear my true time broke:
I
wasted time and now doth time waste me‘.
(Act
V scene v)
The fallen king of course
quibbles on the double meaning of time and employs the familiar Shakespearean conceit of time’s
ultimate revenge on us all.
The disordered string
mentioned in this section probably belongs to a lute or an instrument of its
family. This leads us to examine Shakespeare’s poetical approach to this most
significant of instruments.Richard’s metaphor bears some parallels with sonnet
8 where the concord of unison strings (as are of course found on the lute)
expresses the natural union of husband and wife. In one of many poetic attempts
to persuade ‘The only begetter’ of his sonnets to marry and engender children
thus preserving his youth reliant and thus temporary beauty through his
offspring;
If
the true concord of well tuned sounds
By
unions married do offend thine ear,
They
do but gently chide thee, who confounds,
In
singleness the parts that thou should‘st bear.
(sonnet
8)
The last line of this section
suggests not only the qualities that the youth should convey to his child, but
also plays on the part writing of consort music where individual lines are
dependent on others, contrary to the recipient’s single state, or seen in this
way monody. As in the Richard II metaphor, untuned or disordered strings
signify a breakdown of natural order, in the case of the above sonnet marriage
and childbirth. This type of thinking is evinced with a political slant in
Ulysees’ great speech in the darkly cynical ‘Troilus and Cressida’;
‘Take
but degree away, untune that string,
And
hark what discord follows’.
(Act
1 scene iii)
The comic potential of this
is exploited in ‘the taming of the shrew‘, in which Hortensio, an unsuccessful
and ridiculous suitor to the beautiful Bianca, is thwarted in his attempts at
seduction. Posing as a lute tutor to Bianca, she subtly rejects his advances by
complaining that his instrument is out of tune;
Hortensio-
Madam, my instrument’s in tune.
Bianca-
Lets’ hear. O’ fie! The treble jars.
(Act
3 scene I)
In general terms the lute was
seen in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries as capable of the highest
expression of musical ideals. The lute’s
rose can be seen as reflecting symbolic geometry reflecting order and cosmic
harmony. Comparisons were even made between the whole of creation and the lute;
‘God
binding with great tendons this great all
Did
make a lute which had all parts given,
This
lutes’ round bellie was the azured heaven,
The
rose, those lights which hee did there instiall;
The
bases were the earth and ocean,
The
treble shrill the aire: The other strings
The
unlike bodies were of mixed things’
(William Drummond of Hawthornden)
Even by 1636, twenty years
after Shakespeare’s death, the lute was still being described in cosmological
terms;
‘A
lute player can fulfill his every wish by means of his instrument; For example
he can represent the two proportional means, the duplication of the cube, the
squaring of the circle, the proportion of the movements of the heavens and
their planets, That of the speed of gravity and a thousand other things by
means of the tunes and tones of his instrument’
(Marin Mersenne, Harmonie universelle)
The fitness of the lute for
royalty (especially in the Scottish tradition) is well documented, as is its
suitability for ladies of refinement. This is of course parodied in ‘The taming
of the shrew’ where the ability to play the lute well is seen as an essential
facet of a young woman’s education. A more serious encounter with this ideal
however occurs in Shakespeare’s early revenge tradgedy ‘Titus Andronicus’,
where playing the lute is cited as the apotheoses of the refined and elevated
use to which the Titus’ daughter Lavinia put her hands to before her brutal
rape and mutilation, which included the severing of her hands. Marcus Her uncle
laments;
‘O’
had the monster seen those lily hands
Tremble
like aspen-leaves upon a lute,
And
made the silken strings delight to kiss them,
He
would not have touch’d them for his life’
(Act
2 scene iv)
The lute’s lubricious alter
ego as a tool of seduction alongside other licentious associations are also
fully explored by Shakespeare and many of his contemporaries.In the famous
opening soliloquy of Richard III, the future king bemoans the current political
climate in which the post war peace is much at odds with his own warlike
proclivities. He expresses his contempt for his soldier’s peacetime
activities, from which his own deformity
precludes him;
‘And
now instead of mounting barbed steeds
To
fright the souls of fearful adversaries,
He
capers nimbly in a ladies’ chamber,
To
the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
(Act
1 scene I)
This passage offers us a
glimpse into the erotic world of the lute. A visual parallel exists in
seventeenth century Dutch painting in which a lute hung on the wall can often
symbolise a brothel, or at the very least a scene of seduction. Paintings of
this type were a valued sub category of Dutch art. Good examples are Van
Mieri’s ‘The soldier and the prostitute’ of 1658, (which features not only a
lute but also copulating dogs further driving the sexual content home!) and Van
Babouren’s ’The procuress of 1622. This
particular painting also appears as a painting within a painting in Vermeer’s
‘lady seated at a virginal’ In Van
Babouren’s original the featured
prostitute ’procures’ and plays the lute at the same time. Obvious parallels
also exist in both the courtesan and Geisha
traditions, both of which were expected to be skilled in the art of
music.
The image of the male lover’s
melancholy is also married to the lute. This fashionable Elizabethan melancholy
(perhaps best expressed in the
miniatures of Nicholas Hilliard and in the lute songs of John Dowland) is
parodied in the coruscating wit of the cynical Benedict in ‘Much ado about
nothing’. Speaking aside prior to Balthasar’s
song ‘Sigh no more ladies’;
‘Now
divine air! Now is his soul ravished!
Is
it not strange that sheep’s guts should hale souls
Out
of men’s bodies.
(Act
2 scene iii)
Behind the comedic value of
the forlorn lover lie more serious metaphysical concerns. As well as its
quotidian and recreational uses, music existed
in the Elizabethan mindset also in the realms of the metaphysical and in
the occult sciences, epitomised in the figure of the polymath Doctor John Dee.
In the minds of such thinkers
music could be expressed in Neo-Platonic terms as something which brings us
closer to the divine light, described by the philosopher Plotinus as ‘The One’.
In other words, music has the transcendent ability to pull us from earth bound
darkness, or the absence of ‘The One’ and enable us as to climb ‘the ladder of
divine ascent’ to the ‘celestial’ and ultimately the ‘super celestial’ realms.
The concept of melancholy in
Elizabethan thought was very much tied in with the occult philosophy practised
by Dee and many others which included Cabala, alchemy, and Hermeticism. The
earlier Galenic concept of the four humours, sanguine, choleric, phlegmatic and
melancholic, on which medieval and renaissance medicine were based, had placed
the melancholy humour at the bottom of the pile. Earthbound melancholics with
their reliance on the darkest of planets Saturn, their dark hair and dark complexions,
all produced by the overplus of black bile, were seen as miserable, unable to
achieve, poor and condemned to the basest of employment. This idea is used by
Shakespeare in sonnet 127
In
the old age black was not counted fair,
Or
if it were , it bore not beauty’s name;
A new way of looking at
melancholy however crept into Renaissance thought via the writings of a ‘pseudo
Aristotelian’ anonymous text, ’Problemata physica’, which ascribes the
melancholic temperament to ‘heroes’ and ‘great men’. This idea ties in with the
Platonic idea of the ‘madness’ or furor associated with the inspiration
of the creative process.
This shift in thinking led to
the elevation of the melancholy temperament to one of the highest ideals of
Elizabethan art. Indeed the musical motif associated with the ‘Lacrimae pavane’
of John Dowland became emblematic of
tears and weeping throughout Europe.
Sonnet 127 seems to flank
these opposing views;
But
now is black beauty’s successive heir,
And
beauty slandered with a bastard shame:
The inspiration of the
melancholic is also wonderfully illustrated in Durer’s ‘Melencolia I’ in which
the black faced archetypal Melancholic, surrounded by many of the symbols
associated with the temperament and adopting the traditional head in hand pose,
is clearly conjuring the ‘ladder of ascent’.
Without doubt, Shakespeare
was familiar with such concepts and expressed both aspects of melancholy in
both his plays and poetry. The so called dark lady of the sonnets (alredy
mentioned in the examples from sonnet 127) may of course epitomise this,
evoking as she does the basest and most passionately inspired utterances from
the poet.
It is also likely that
Shakespeare knew personally, or at least was familiar with the work of Giordano
Bruno the Italian philosopher, burnt at the stake by the inquisition as a
heretic in Rome in 1600. Bruno’s own ‘The expulsion of the triumphant beast’,
the work which featured largely in the
Holy office’s case against him, concurs with the new view of melancholy and
ties it in with the popular notion of the wheel of fortune often employed by
Shakespeare;
Saul,
‘The
more depressed is man
And
the lower he is on the wheel,
The
closer he is to ascending,
As
with it round he turns’.
(first
dialogue second part)
A later section of the same
work contains the lines;
‘Take
this he said to the fifth, which by bringing about a certain melancholic
reaction, has the power to incite
enjoyable frenzy and prophecy’.
(second
dialogue third part)
It has been suggested by his
biographer Vincenzo Spampanato that Bruno’s only comedy ‘Il candelaio’, had an
influence on both Moliere and Shakespeare and that traces of this work can be
found in works including ‘King Lear’, ‘Hamlet’ ‘Richard II, and significantly
‘Love’s labours lost’. The character of
Biron in Love’s labours lost’ may even
be an homage to the renegade
philosopher. The ecstatic creativity which springs forth from the melancholy
scholar’s devotion to Rosaline is
certainly in keeping with the esoteric ideas previously discussed, especially
when seen in opposition to the hyperbolical intellectualism of Nathaniel and
Holofernes who surely represent the type of pedant so despised by Bruno and
with whom he had his notorious altercation with whilst lecturing at Oxford in
1583.
These strains of thought
existed in Elizabethan thought alongside the earlier Pythagorean concept of the
harmony of the spheres in which the rotation of the planets at intervallic
distances to each other create a divine music.
The French philosopher
Montaigne expresses it thus;
‘What
philosophers deem of the celestial music, which is that the bodies of its
circles being solid smooth, and in their rolling motion touching and rubbing
against one another must of necessity produce a wonderful harmony.’
(translation by Florio)
Plato suggested that that the
idea had a parallel with the harmonies of the soul. It is therefore highly
significant that in the mind of Shakespeare, moments of transcendental
significance are often in part expressed musically.
An example of this occurs in the final scene of ’A winter’s tale’, where the statue of
Leonte’s dead wife Hermione magically comes to life;
Paulina-
Music
awake her:
Strike
’tis time; descend; be stone
No
more; approach.
(Act
5 scene iii)
The play ‘Pericles’ features
another magical process by which Thaisa, the wife of the eponymous hero is
brought back to life by the Ephesian Cerimon. Again music features as part of
this miraculous resurrection;
Cerimon-
‘The
rough and woeful music that we have,
Cause
it to sound, beseech you.
The
vial once more. How stirr’st thou block!
The
music there! I pray you give her air.
Gentlemen,
This
queen will live; nature awakes; a warmth
Breathes
out of her. She hath not been entranced
Above
five hours. See how she gins to blow
Into
life’s flower again.
(Act
3 scene ii)
This passage makes clear the
importance of music to this magical physician, who at the end of the above
scene invokes the aid of Aesculapius, the classical god of healing and the son
of Apollo, whose musical associations are well known.
Towards the end of the play Pericles is reunited with his daughter
Marina, long thought dead. This is done by way of a recognition scene much
admired by T.S. Elliot;
‘To
my mind the finest of all the ’recognition scenes’ is act 5 scene I of that
very great play ’Pericles’. It is a perfect example of the ’ultra dramatic’,
action of beings who are more than human… or rather seen in a light more than
that of day’.
Directly after his
recognition of Marina Pericles hears music;
‘Pericles-
O
heavens bless my girl! But hark what music?
Tell
Helicanus, my Marina, tell him
O’er,
point by point, for yet he seems to doubt
How
sure you are my daughter. But what music?
Helicanus-
My lord I hear none.
Pericles-
None?
The music of the spheres! List my Marina.
(Act
5 scene I)
Here, the joy that Pericles
experiences over his reunion with his daughter leads the Prince to hear a
divine harmony. It is significant that only he hears it as it acts as an
expression of the Platonic idea mentioned earlier of the correspondence between the harmony of the spheres and the
harmony of the individual soul. It can also be viewed as a transcendental
experience which gives Pericles a glimpse of the divine as in Plutarch’s ‘De re
musica’ where he describes the human condition while immured in ‘this murky
vessel of decay’ as incapable of hearing the music of the harmony of the
spheres.
Cerimon’s earlier invocation
in the play carries further significance in the work of Shakespeare regarding
the healing power of music. This concept has generally fallen into obsolescence
in modern western medicine.
The origin of music’s
therapeutic value can be traced back to Pythagoras who felt that the harmonies
of music could both moderate and mollify agitation of the spirit and
furthermore influence the emotions.
In Vermeer’s painting ‘ the
music lesson’ the idea is contained on the virginal lid; ‘Musica laetitiae
comes medina dolorum’ (music is the companion of joy and a medicine for
suffering).
In seventeenth century France
music was often prescribed for ailments such as melancholy, hypochondria and
even love sickness. Music designed for dancing was considered restorative for
the proper balance of the bodily humours. Indeed the sixteenth century
physician Ambroise Pare advised patients to have a consort of violins on hand
to ‘make them merry during their recuperation’.
In Shakespeare’s deepest of
tragedies ‘King Lear’, the symbolic and
actual awakening of the king in his daughter Cordelia’s camp following his
madness during the previous night’s violent storm is one of the most beautiful
and moving scenes in all Shakespeare.
Although Lear is not restored
to life as in the previous examples, his awakening can however be seen as a
spiritual renaissance with the king himself believing that he is a spirit;
Lear-
You are a spirit I know, where did you die?
(Act
four scene vii)
His attendant doctor again
feels that music is the best physic for his awakening;
Doctor-
Please you draw near, louder the music there!
(Act
four scene vii)
The presence of music in all
of these scenes acts as a conduit between one state and another; between death
and life, madness and sanity, sleep and wakefulness.
This idea is often used in
reverse, where music’s narcotic qualities are employed for dramatic effect.
The experience of Pericles
with the music of the spheres illustrates this usage;
Most
heavenly music!
It
nips me into listening and thick slumber
Hangs
upon mine eyes: Let me rest.
(Act
five scene I)
The intoxicating slumber of
Pericles brings him a theophany of the nocturnal goddess Diana
showing the mortal experience of the divine.
‘A
midsummer night’s dream’ also gives us much in the way of sleep and music.
Titania
queen of the fairies is desirous of
music as a prelude to her repose;
Titania-
Sing me now asleep;
Then to your offices and let me rest.
(Act
two scene ii)
Similarly following the
reunification of Titania and Oberon evincing a general move towards resolution
;
Oberon-
Titania, music call, and strike more dead
Than common sleep of these five the sense.
Titania-
Music ho- such as charmeth sleep.
(Act
Four scene I)
The ‘still music’ called for
in ‘A midsummer night’s dream’ ( also used to accompany the appearance of Hymen
at the end of ‘As you like it’) is directly followed by the stage direction
‘the music changes’ which leads to a dance between the king and queen, again
symbolising concord.
This popular Elizabethan
notion is also wonderfully expressed in John Davies’ orchestra (1594);
If
they whom sacred love hath linked in one,
Do
as they dance, in all their course of life,
Never
shall burning grief nor bitter moan,
Nor
factious difference, nor unkind strife,
Arise
between the husband and the wife.
For
whether forth or back, or round he go,
As
the man doth, so must the woman do.
The conclusion of ‘The
merchant of Venice’ contains a host of classical allusions pooled together to
form an homage to both night and music including the celestial harmony;
Lorenzo-
There’s not the smallest orb which thou behold’t
But in his motion like the angel sings,
Still quiring to the young eyed cherubins.
(Act
Five scene I)
Shakespeare combines this
idea with the mutability and transient
nature of music;
Lorenzo-
Soft stillness and the night
Become the touches of sweet harmony.
(Act
five scene I)
This beautifully poetic
statement of course perfectly expresses the non absolute nature of music, and
that its effect on the listener is dependent on momentary features such as the
emotional state of the listener or in the example above atmospheric conditions
or even the absence of sunlight.
This of course is neatly
summed up by Orsino at the start of
‘Twelfth night’;
Orsino-
Enough no more,
‘Tis not as sweet as it was before.
(Act
one scene I)
Here it is the listener who
has changed and not the music.
Also alluded to in the
‘merchant of Venice’ is the Ovidian version of Orpheus;
Lorenzo-
Therefore the poet
Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones and
Floods
Since not so stockish, hard and full of rage,
But music for the time doth change his nature.
(Act
five scene I)
This leads to the conclusion
of Lorenzo’s ‘ode to music’;
The
man that hath no music in himself,
Nor
is not moved by concord of sweet sounds,
Is
fit for stratagems and spoils;
The
motions of his spirit are dull as night,
His
affection dark as Erebus.
Let
no such man be trusted.
(Act
five scene I)
Therefore by way of a prelude
culled from his beloved Ovid, Shakespeare puts into the mouth of Lorenzo the
conceit that one who cannot feel the power of music, the deep harmony referred
to in ‘Richard II’ is somehow out of tune with the cosmic order and therefore
with its implicit moral order.
In this essay I have
attempted to illustrate Shakespeare’s textual use of music and musical imagery
with which he produced a wealth of metaphors and poetical ideas much in keeping
with current trends in Elizabethan thought on philosophy, psychology, medicine,
politics, love, the occult sciences and metaphysics in general. His use of
contemporary song texts in his plays has I feel a separate dramatic function.
This is certainly the case with Ophelia’s ‘mad songs’ in ‘Hamlet’ which
graphically illustrate her plight alongside giving the audience glimpses into the culpability of other characters in
the play. The music which these tunes were set to at the time of the play’s
first performances does not however change their meaning and function in the
play, regardless how interesting their provenance may be. The particular examples
cited here are integral examples of a purely musical experience, as is the case
of the accompaniment to Lear’s awakening,
as philosophical expressions of the human condition as in the examples
from ‘Richard II’, or as experiences of the metaphysical as in Pericles’ ‘most
heavenly music’
Copyright Gordon J.S.
Ferries 2005.