SHAKESPEARE'S SONGS
William Linley, born 1771, edited two volumes octavo of settings to Shakespeare's lyrics, called Dramatic Songs. Some of them are by Purcell, Arne, etc.; but unfortunately the majority are by the editor, who seems to have had no exaggerated respect for Shakespeare's text, but a very high opinion of his own powers.
Mr Linley has some very naïve remarks to make in the observations printed after the preface. Writing of the lyrics sung by Feste in Twelfth Night, he says: "Though there is a whimsical point about them, they are not inelegantly written." (This of "Come away, Death"!) Linley proceeds: "Shakespeare evidently meant that it should be sung with pathetic expression, but one is not prepared to relish it from the Clown; and there is nothing ludicrous in the words, and the plaintive wildness which they seem to demand from the music could not, by any aid of preparation, be given by the Clown so as to produce a feeling of melancholy—it would be more likely to excite laughter."
After these preliminary remarks, one may expect anything from our editor; and when one remembers the exquisite pathos of Mr Courtice Pounds' singing of Augustus Barratt's setting at His Majesty's one can smile at the pretentious want of knowledge displayed in Linley's short introduction.
His own setting, which is before me, is sorry stuff. Words and phrases are repeated over and over again. He does not even set the first sentence correctly; he says, "Come away, Death, come away," and continues his "improvement" throughout the song.
The same kind of thing occurs throughout his two volumes; but it is interesting to note that for a long time it was considered a standard work, and Roffe, so late as 1867, speaks of it in his Handbook of Shakespeare Music as "a happily conceived work."
It is a curious thing that the lyrics in the plays most popular with composers are either frankly not by Shakespeare or are very doubtful. The one most frequently chosen, "Take, oh take those lips away," from Measure for Measure, has been set, according to Roffe (1867), seventeen times; and, according to a work not quite truthfully describing itself as A List of All the Songs and Passages in Shakespeare which have been Set to Music, thirty times. Now, the second verse, "Hide, oh hide," is undoubtedly by Fletcher, from The Bloody Brother, and it is likely that Shakespeare merely quoted the first verse without acknowledgment, as he often did.
The next in order is "Orpheus with his lute." Roffe gives it sixteen settings, and A List of all the Songs, etc., twenty-two; the latter boldly states, "By John Fletcher." Act iii., Scene 1 is part of the Fletcher portion of Henry VIII. "Shakespeare wrote only 1168-½ of the 2822 lines of the play; the rest are Fletcher's." The editors responsible for this note are F. J. Furnivall and W. G. Stone.
"Come live with me" (Merry Wives) has been set, according to Roffe, sixteen times, and according to the "List" eighteen—the words being quoted from Kit Marlowe. "The Willow" song from Othello (Roffe six and the "List" eleven) is much older than Shakespeare, and is quoted by him from a long poem now in Percy's Reliques.
Very naturally, since these dates (1867 and 1884) many other settings of songs from Shakespeare's plays have been made. Still, these four, two certainly not Shakespeare's and two quite doubtful Shakespeares, keep ahead in the list of music composed for or concerning the plays. I have referred to the "List," and think it only fair to give an account of it. It was published for "The New Shakespeare Society," and compiled by J. Greenhill, the Rev. W. A. Harrison, and F. J. Furnivall; but unfortunately it was published in 1884, and has not been brought up to date. Here one may find that composers were not content with juggling and altering Shakespeare's perfect lyrics, but chose chunks of blank verse and snippets of sonnets to set, for no earthly purpose that I can see. Some of the composers' selections are quite incomprehensible. Why R. J. Stevens should have chosen Prospero's magnificent lines, beginning "The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces," and made them into a glee for S.A.T.T.B.B., passes my wit to understand.
Also, why Sir Henry Bishop chose Sonnet 109, "Oh, never say that I was false of heart" (lines 1-4 and 13-14), or Sonnet 29, "When in disgrace with fortune" (lines 1-4 and 9-12), with several verbal alterations. All this tends to show that the composer could not have had the smallest conception of the sonnet form, to cut and chop it about as he has done. Personally, I think that no sonnet ought to be set to music, but I know that quite good musical authorities differ from me, and I am content to say that either the whole sonnet or none of it must be set. It is impossible to cut a word or a sentence out of a sonnet without spoiling its form and balance; and, if these essentials are gone, how can it make a perfect song?