"SHAKSPEARE'S RIME WHICH HE MADE AT THE MYTRE."
In the third volume of Mr. Collier's valuable History of Dramatic Poetry (p. 275.) is the following passage, which forms part of a note:
"Mr. Thorpe, the enterprising bookseller of Bedford Street, is in possession of a MS. full of songs and poems, in the handwriting of a person of the name of Richard Jackson, all copied prior to the year 1631, and including many unpublished pieces, by a variety of celebrated poets. One of the most curious is a song in five seven-line stanzas, thus headed 'Shakspeare's rime, which he made at the Mytre in Fleete Streete.' It begins 'From the rich Lavinian shore;' and some few of the lines were published by Playford, and set as a catch."
In Mr. Thoms' Anecdotes and Traditions (published by the Camden Society) is a story of the celebrated Dr. John Wilson, to which the editor has appended an interesting note, adding:
"Wilson was the composer of a glee for three voices, published in Playford's Musical Companion, where the words are attributed to Shakspeare; and the supposition that they were really written by him having been converted into a certainty, by their appearing with Shakspeare's name to them in the MS. Collection of Poetry, copied prior to 1631 by Richard Jackson," &c.
Mr. Thoms then prints the "rime," not inappropriately calling it "A Song for Autolycus," with this remark:
"My late respected friend Mr. Douce once told me, that some musical friend at Chichester, I think the organist, possessed a copy of this song, with an additional verse."
Mr. Thoms' version of "Shakspeare's Rime" was inserted (probably by our worthy Editor himself?) in the first volume of "N. & Q." (p. 23.) with a view of obtaining the additional stanza; a desideratum which I am now enabled to supply. The following copy has two additional stanzas, and is transcribed from a MS. Collection of Songs, with the music, written in the early part of the reign of James I. The MS. was formerly in the possession of Mr. J. S. Smith, the learned editor of Musica Antiqua.
I.
"From the fair Lavinian shore,
I your markets come to store;
Marvel not, I thus far dwell,
And hither bring my wares to sell;
Such is the sacred hunger of gold.
Then come to my pack,
While I cry,
What d'ye lack,
What d'ye buy?
For here it is to be sold.
II.
"I have beauty, honour, grace,
Virtue, favour, time and space,
And what else thou wouldst request,
E'en the thing thou likest best;
First, let me have but a touch of thy gold,
Then come too lad,
Thou shalt have
What thy dad
Never gave;
For here it is to be sold.
III.
"Though thy gentry be but young,
As the flow'r that this day sprung,
And thy father thee before,
Never arms nor scutcheon bore;
First let me have but a catch of thy gold,
Then, though thou be an ass,
By this light
Thou shalt pass
For a knight;
For here it is to be sold.
IV.
"Thou whose obscure birth so base,
Ranks among the ignoble race,
And desireth that thy name,
Unto honour should obtain;
First let me have but a catch of thy gold,
Then, though thou be an ass,
By this light,
Thou shalt pass
For a knight;
For here it is to be sold.
V.
"Madam, come see what you lack?
Here's complexion in my pack;
White and red you may have in this place,
To hide an old ill-wrinkled face:
First, let me have but a catch of thy gold,
Then thou shalt seem,
Like a wench of fifteen,
Although you be threescore and ten years old."
That this song enjoyed extensive popularity in the latter half of the seventeenth century, is evinced by the number of printed copies. It is found in Playford's Select Ayres and Dialogues, 1659; in Dr. Wilson's Cheerfull Ayres and Ballads, 1660; in Playford's Catch that Catch Can, 1667; and in many subsequent collections of a similar kind. But in none of these works is the name of the writer of the words given; and all the copies are deficient of the third and fourth stanzas. The point of the satire conveyed in these stanzas was lost after the reign of James I., which may account for their omission.
"Shakspeare's rime," being associated with Wilson's music, is of some importance towards settling the point of authorship. In 1846 I printed a little pamphlet with the following title:
"Who was Jack Wilson, the Singer of Shakspeare's Stage? An Attempt to prove the Identity of this Person with John Wilson, Doctor of Musick, in the University of Oxford, A.D. 1644."
It would be out of place here to dwell upon this publication, suffice it to say, that all the information I have since collected, tends to confirm the hypothesis advanced. One extract from this brochure will show the connexion that existed between Shakspeare and Wilson:
"Wilson was the composer of four other Shakspearian lyrics, a fact unknown to Mr. Collier, when he wrote the article in the Shakspeare Papers: 'Where the bee sucks,' 'Full fathom five,' 'Lawn as white as driven snow,' and 'From the fair Lavinian shore.' They are all printed in the author's Cheerfull Ayres or Ballads, Oxford, 1660. We have now evidence from this work, that Wilson was the original composer of the music to one of Shakspeare's plays. He says in his preface, 'some of these ayres were originally composed by those whose names are affixed to them, but are here placed as being new set by the author of the rest. The two songs, 'Where the bee sucks,' and 'Full fathom five,' have appended to them the name of 'R. Johnson,' who, upon this evidence, we may undoubtedly conclude was the original composer of the music in the play of the Tempest. The song 'Lawn as white as driven snow,' from the Winter's Tale, has the name of 'John Wilson' attached to it, from which it is equally certain that he was its original composer. In my own mind, the circumstances connected with the Shakspearian lyrics in this book are almost conclusive as to the identity of John Wilson the composer with John Wilson the singer. Unless the composer had been intimately acquainted with the theatre of Shakspeare's day, it is not likely that he would have remembered, so long after, the name of one of its composers. Nor is it likely, being so well acquainted with the original composers of the Shakspearian drama, and so anxious as he appears to have been to do justice to their memory, that he would have omitted informing us, who was the original composer of the song in the Winter's Tale, had it been any other than himself. The Winter's Tale was not produced before 1610 or 1611, at which period Wilson was sixteen or seventeen years old, an age quite ripe enough for the production of the song in question."
A reviewer of my little publication in the Athenæum (Nov. 8, 1846) makes the following remark:
"Let us observe, in conclusion, that Dr. Rimbault is better read in Jack Wilson than Ben Jonson, or we should never have seen Mr. Shakspeare's 'Rime' at the 'Mitre,' in Fleet Street, seriously referred to as a genuine composition. It is a mere clumsy adaptation, from Ben's interesting epigram 'Inviting a Friend to Supper.'"
It is really too bad to be charged with ignorance unjustly. I have on my shelves the works of glorious Ben, three times over: in folio 1616-31; in folio, 1692; and in nine volumes octave (Gifford's edition), 1816; all of which I will freely give to the "reviewer," if he can prove that one line of "Shakspeare's Rime at the Mytre" is taken from the aforesaid epigram. I heartily agree with him in admiration of Jonson's spirited imitation of Martial, which I have transcribed as a pleasant relish towards digesting these rambling remarks:
"INVITING A FRIEND TO SUPPER.
"To-night, grave Sir, both my poor house and I
Do equally desire your company:
Not that we think us worthy such a guest,
But that your worth will dignify our feast,
With those that come; whose grace may make that seem
Something, which else could hope for no esteem.
It is the fair acceptance, Sir, creates
The entertainment perfect, not the cates.
Yet shall you have, to rectify your palate,
An olive, capers, or some better salad,
Ushering the mutton; with a short-legg'd hen,
If we can get her, full of eggs, and then,
Limons, and wine for sauce: to these, a coney
Is not to be despair'd of for our money;
And though fowl now be scarce, yet there are clerks,
The sky not falling, think we may have larks.
I'll tell you of more, and lie, so you will come:
Of partridge, pheasant, woodcock, of which some
May yet be there; and godwit if we can;
Knat, rail, and ruff too. Howsoe'er my man
Shall read a piece of Virgil, Tacitus,
Livy, or of some better book to us,
Of which we'll speak our minds, amidst our meat;
And I'll profess no verses to repeat;
To this if aught appear, which I not know of,
That will the pastry, not my paper, show of.
Digestive cheese, and fruit there sure will be;
But that which most doth take my muse and me,
Is a pure cup of rich Canary wine,
Which is the Mermaid's now, but shall be mine;
Of which had Horace or Anacreon tasted,
Their lives, as do their lines, till now had lasted.
Tobacco, nectar, or the Thespian spring,
Are all but Luther's beer, to this I sing,
Of this we will sup free, but moderately,
And we will have no Pooly', or Parrot by;
Nor shall our cups make any guilty men:
But at our parting, we will be, as when
We innocently met. No simple word,
That shall be utter'd at our mirthful board,
Shall make us sad next morning; or affright
The liberty, that we'll enjoy to-night."
Edward F. Rimbault.