Edward W. Naylor

The following passages give a lively picture of what a music-master might have to put up with from young ladies of quality.

Shrew. II, i, 142. Re-enter Hortensio with his head broken.

Bap. How now, my friend? why dost thou look so pale?
Hor. For fear, I promise you, if I look pale.
Bap. What, will my daughter [Kate] prove a good musician?
Hor. I think, she'll sooner prove a soldier:
Iron may hold her, but never lutes.
Bap. Why, then thou canst not break her to the lute?
Hor. Why, no, for she hath broke the lute to me.
I did but tell her she mistook her frets,
And bow'd her hand to teach her fingering,
When, with a most impatient, devilish spirit,
"Frets call you these?" quoth she; "I'll fume with them;"
And with that word she struck me on the head,
And through the instrument my pate made way;
And there I stood amazed for a while,
As on a pillory, looking through the lute,
While she did call me rascal fiddler,
And, twangling Jack, with twenty such vile terms,
As had she studied to misuse me so.

Shrew II, i, 277.

Bap. Why, how now, daughter Katherine? in your dumps?

Shrew. Act III. i. Hortensio and Lucentio, the sham musical and classical tutors, give a lesson to Bianca. They quarrel which is to start first.

Bianca settles the question, and orders Hortensio (l. 22):

Lucentio now goes on with his 'classics'; further on—

Hortensio now takes his place, and addresses the classical Lucentio—

The first of these three passages will be quite clear to the reader in the light of the remarks on the lute already made. The second should be read in connection with the name of the doleful dance above mentioned, the Dump. [See Appendix.]

The third quotation contains interesting allusions to the peculiarities of the lute. Lines 22-25 are very naturally accounted for. The lute, having at least eleven strings, took a long time to get into tune. Even our modern violins, with only four strings, want constant attention in this respect; and the lute, therefore, especially in the hands of an amateur, might well get a name for being a troublesome instrument. The reference to the 'treble' and 'bass' strings (i.e., the 1st and 6th) has been explained before. 'Spit in the hole, man,' Lucentio's very rude advice to Hortensio, will direct our attention to the variously shaped 'holes' which were made in the belly of all stringed instruments to let out the sound. On the lute, this hole was commonly a circular opening, not clearly cut out, but fretted in a circle of small holes with a star in the middle. But this was not the only way. A lute in South Kensington Museum has three round holes, placed in an oblique line, nearly at the bottom of the instrument.[14] The holes on the viol were generally in the form of crescents, and were put one on each side of the bridge. On the modern violins, as everybody has seen, they are in the shape of f holes, and are known as 'f' holes.

Line 59, about 'lessons in three parts,' is of interest. Primarily, it is another form of 'Two's company, three is none'—but its musical meaning is very plainly present. In the 16th and 17th centuries it was very common to call the pieces of music in any volume for an instrument by the name 'Lessons.' The first meaning, of course, was that they were examples for the pupil in music, but the word was used quite freely with the purely general signification of 'Pieces' or 'Movements.'

One more word deserves remark—viz., 'to touch,' in line 63. This is used technically, and means strictly 'to play' on the instrument. The word comes both in meaning and form from Ital., toccare.

Toccata was a common word for a Prelude (often extempore), intended as a kind of introduction to two or three more formal movements. The Italian for a peal of bells is tocco di campana, and we have the word in English under the form tocsin, an alarm bell. The trumpet-call known as 'Tucket,' which occurs seven times in the stage directions of six Shakespeare plays, and is also found once in the text (Henry V. IV, ii, 35), also is derived from toccare. Similarly with the German 'Tusch,' a flourish of trumpets and other brass instruments, which may be heard under that name to the present day.

The next passage confirms Morley's account of the high estimation in which music was held as a part of a liberal education. Baptista evidently considers 'good bringing up' to include 'music, instruments, and poetry.' Moreover, the visiting master was to be well paid,—'to cunning men I will be very kind.'

Shrew I, i, 81.

We find further on, in the same play, that to bring one's lady-love a music master was thought a handsome compliment.

Shrew I, ii, 170.

Moreover, in Pericles IV, vi, 185, we find that Marina, daughter of Prince Pericles, can 'sing, weave, sew, and dance.' Also see V, i, 78, where Marina actually does sing, to rouse her father from his melancholy.