c+·uar nor ·tsr c n+×nuooks

Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
Dowland’s Lachrimae (1604) is perhaps the greatest but most enigmatic pub-
lication of instrumental music from before the eighteenth century. This new
handbook, the first detailed study of the collection, investigates its publica-
tion history, its instrumentation, its place in the history of Renaissance dance
music, and its reception history. Two extended chapters examine the twenty-
one pieces in the collection in detail, discussing the complex internal rela-
tionships between the cycle of seven ‘Lachrimae’ pavans, the relationships
between them and other pieces inside and outside the collection, and possible
connections between the Latin titles of the seven pavans and Elizabethan
conceptions of melancholy. The extraordinarily multi-faceted nature of the
collection also leads the author to illuminate questions of patronage, the
ordering and format of the collection, pitch and transposition, tonality and
modality, and even numerology.
rr+ra nor·+× is director of The Parley of Instruments, the choir
Psalmody and the vocal ensemble Seicento, as well as musical director of
Opera Restor’d. He has recently been appointed Reader in Musicology at
Leeds University, and is the author of Four and Twenty Fiddlers: the Violin at
the English Court 1540–1690 and Henry Purcell.
CAMBRI DGE MUSI C HANDBOOKS
or ×r a+r r nr +oa Julian Rushton
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Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
Peter Holman
PUBLISHED BY CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS (VIRTUAL PUBLISHING)
FOR AND ON BEHALF OF THE PRESS SYNDICATE OF THE UNIVERSITY OF
CAMBRIDGE
The Pitt Building, Trumpington Street, Cambridge CB2 IRP
40 West 20th Street, New York, NY 10011-4211, USA
477 Williamstown Road, Port Melbourne, VIC 3207, Australia

http://www.cambridge.org

© Cambridge University Press 1999
This edition © Cambridge University Press (Virtual Publishing) 2003

First published in printed format 1999


A catalogue record for the original printed book is available
from the British Library and from the Library of Congress

Original ISBN 0 521 58196 6 hardback
Original ISBN 0 521 58829 4 paperback


ISBN 0 511 02121 6 virtual (eBooks.com Edition)
In memory of
Robert Spencer
1932–1997
Contents
Note to the reader page ix
Abbreviations x
Preface xiii
1 The document 1
English music publishing 1
Dowland’s continental career 2
The publication of Lachrimae 3
The table layout 7
2 The instruments 13
Lachrimae and the Anglo-German repertory 16
Instrumentation 17
Chiavette and transposition 20
The lute part 22
3 The dance types 26
The pavan 26
The galliard 27
The almand 28
Composition, arrangement and performance 28
The Elizabethan dance repertory 30
The late Elizabethan pavan 31
Tonality 33
4 The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’ 36
‘Lachrimae Antiquae’ 36
The tear motif 40
Musical rhetoric 42
The nature of the cycle 46
Melancholy 50
vii
‘Lachrimae Antiquae Novae’ 52
‘Lachrimae Gementes’ 53
‘Lachrimae Tristes’ 54
‘Lachrimae Coactae’ 56
‘Lachrimae Amantis’ 57
‘Lachrimae Verae’ 59
5 ‘Divers other Pavans, Galiards, and Almands’ 61
The ordering of the collection 61
‘Semper Dowland semper Dolens’ 63
‘Sir Henry Umptons Funerall’ 65
‘M. John Langtons Pavan’ 66
‘The Earle of Essex Galiard’ 67
‘Captaine Digorie Piper his Galiard’ 68
‘M. Henry Noel his Galiard’ 68
‘Sir John Souch his Galiard’ 69
‘M. Giles Hobies his Galiard’ 69
‘M. Buctons Galiard’ 71
‘The King of Denmarks Galiard’ 72
‘M. Thomas Collier his Galiard with 2 Trebles’ 73
‘M. Nicholas Gryffith his Galiard’ 73
‘Mistresse Nichols Almand’ 73
‘M. George Whitehead his Almand’ 74
6 Reception 75
Revival 78
Notes 81
Select bibliography 94
Index 96
Contents
viii
Note to the reader
Original written sources have been transcribed without changing
spelling, capitalisation or punctuation, though I have not retained the
contemporary distinctions between italic, black letter and roman type in
printed documents, and I have modernised the interchangeable letters ‘i’
and ‘j’, ‘u’ and ‘v’. Readers should be alert to the possibility that quota-
tions taken from secondary sources might have been modernised more
radically. All printed books were published in London unless otherwise
stated. Pitches are indicated using the system in which the open
strings of the viol family are D–G–c–e–a–d′, G–c–f–a–d′–g′ and
d–g–c′–e′–a′–d′′. Clefs are indicated using the system in which the
treble, alto and bass clefs appear as g2, c3 and F4. I have modernised the
English system of reckoning the year from Lady Day (25 March), and
have used an asterisk to indicate those dates in documents that may have
been reckoned using the ‘New Style’ or Gregorian calendar, instituted
by Pope Gregory XIII in 1582 and rapidly adopted on the Continent. It
was ten days ahead of the ‘Old Style’ or Julian calendar used at the time
in England.
ix
Abbreviations
(based on those used in Grove 6)
CCM John Dowland: Complete Consort Music, ed. E. Hunt
(London, 1985)
CLM The Collected Lute Music of John Dowland, ed. D. Poulton
and B. Lam (London, 3/1981)
CMM Corpus mensurabilis musicae
DM J. M. Ward, A Dowland Miscellany, JLSA 10 (1977)
Edwards W. Edwards, introduction to the Boethius Press facsimile
of Lachrimae (Leeds, 1974), reissued with additional
material by S. McCoy and R. Spencer for the Severinus
Press facsimile (Newbury, 1992)
EECM Early English Church Music
EM Early Music
Fiddlers P. Holman, Four and Twenty Fiddlers: The Violin at the
English Court 1540–1690 (Oxford, 2/1995)
FoMRHIQ FoMRHI [Fellowship of Makers and Researchers of
Historical Instruments] Quarterly
Grove 6 The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians, ed. S.
Sadie, 20 vols. (London, 1980)
GSJ The Galpin Society Journal
JAMIS Journal of the American Musical Instrument Society
JAMS Journal of the American Musicological Society
JD D. Poulton, John Dowland (London, 2/1982)
JLSA Journal of the Lute Society of America
LSJ The Lute Society Journal
MB Musica Britannica
MD Musica disciplina
ML Music and Letters
MQ The Musical Quarterly
x
PRMA Proceedings of the Royal Musical Association
RMARC Royal Musical Association Research Chronicle
Library sigla
(following the RISM system as used in Grove 6)
Austria
A-Wn Österreichische Nationalbibliothek, Musiksammlung
Germany
D-Kl Kassel, Murhardsche Bibliothek der Stadt und
Landesbibliothek
D-Mbs Munich, Bayerische Staatsbibliothek
Great Britain
GB-Cfm Cambridge, Fitzwilliam Museum
GB-Cu Cambridge, University Library
GB-Ge Glasgow, Euing Music Library
GB-Lam London, Royal Academy of Music
GB-Lbl London, British Library, Reference Division
United States of America
US-NH New Haven, Yale University, School of Music Library
US-Ws Washington, Folger Shakespeare Libraries
Abbreviations
xi
Preface
John Dowland used the Latin word ‘Lachrimae’ (‘Tears’) to mean three
distinct but related things. First, it is the title of his famous pavan, best
known as a solo lute piece but also surviving in many contemporary
adaptations for other solo instruments or groups of instruments.
Second, it is the title appended to Dowland’s adaptation of the pavan as a
song for two voices and lute, ‘Flow my teares’, published in The Second
Booke of Songs or Ayres (1600). Third, the pavan, now entitled
‘Lachrimae Antiquae’, is the first item of the subject of this book, the
collection Dowland published in London in the spring of 1604 as
Lachrimae, or Seaven Teares Figured in Seaven Passionate Pavans, with
Divers other Pavans, Galiards, and Almands, Set Forth for the Lute, Viols,
or Violons, in Five Parts. In what follows I use ‘Lachrimae’ generally to
mean the pavan in its various settings, ‘Antiquae’ specifically to mean its
five-part setting as printed in the 1604 collection, and Lachrimae to mean
the collection as a whole.
Lachrimae is a typeset folio volume in table layout, with the parts of
each piece laid out around a single opening. It contains twenty-one
pieces, ten pavans followed by nine galliards and two almands, each with
staff-notation parts for five viols or violin-family instruments and a part
in tablature for the lute. I list their titles as they appear in the body of the
volume (there are some small differences in the way they are styled in the
table of contents and between the parts), together with the abbreviations
used in this book:
1 Lachrimae Antiquae Antiquae
2 Lachrimae Antiquae Novae Antiquae Novae
3 Lachrimae Gementes Gementes
4 Lachrimae Tristes Tristes
xiii
5 Lachrimae Coactae Coactae
6 Lachrimae Amantis Amantis
7 Lachrimae Verae Verae
8 Semper Dowland semper Dolens Dolens
9 Sir Henry Umptons Funerall Unton
10 M. John Langtons Pavan Langton
11 The King of Denmarks Galiard Denmark
12 The Earle of Essex Galiard Essex
13 Sir John Souch his Galiard Souch
14 M. Henry Noel his Galiard Noel
15 M. Giles Hobies his Galiard Hoby
16 M. Nicholas Gryffith his Galiard Gryffith
17 M. Thomas Collier his Galiard with 2 Trebles Collier
18 Captaine Digorie Piper his Galiard Piper
19 M. Buctons Galiard Bucton
20 Mistresse Nichols Almand Nichol
21 M. George Whitehead his Almand Whitehead
There is still no satisfactory modern edition of Lachrimae. The first,
edited by Peter Warlock for Oxford University Press (London, 1927),
was, not surprisingly, intended for modern strings: it is laid out for the
same combination as Schubert’s C major String Quintet (two violins,
viola and two cellos), the note-values of the pavans and galliards are
halved, and it does not include the lute tablature. The edition by F. J.
Giesbert, Lachrimae oder sieben Tränen (Kassel, 1954), includes the tab-
lature but only consists of the seven ‘Lachrimae’ pavans. The most
recent edition, by Edgar Hunt for Schott (London, 1985), includes
Lachrimae in a supposedly Complete Consort Music [CCM] of Dowland,
though it does not print the tablature, has no critical commentary, and is
disturbingly inaccurate in places. There is an urgent need for a proper
critical edition that includes the tablature, and takes account of variants
between the six surviving copies of the publication and the various man-
uscript sources. In this book, bar numbers refer to the Hunt edition.
For those who can cope with the original notation and can manage to
use the table layout, there are three facsimile editions. Boethius Press
issued the copy in the Henry Watson Music Library, Manchester
(Leeds, 1974), with an excellent brief survey by Warwick Edwards of the
Preface
xiv
bibliographical and musical issues. Edwards’s introduction was revised
with additional material by Stewart McCoy and the late Robert Spencer
for the publication by Severinus Press (Newbury, 1992) of the copy for-
merly in Robert Spencer’s Library, now in the library of the Royal
Academy of Music [Edwards]. Most recently, Performers’ Facsimiles
have reproduced the copy in the British Library (New York, 1998).
The reader wanting to study Lachrimae seriously will need to compare
Dowland’s consort settings with the various song and lute versions. The
song books, The First Booke (1597), The Second Booke (1600), The Third
and Last Booke (1603) and A Pilgrimes Solace (1612), as well as Robert
Dowland’s A Musicall Banquet (1610), were reprinted in facsimile by
Scolar Press in the series The English Lutesongs 1597–1632 (Menston,
1968–71). Versions for solo voice and lute were published by Edmund
Fellowes in the series The English School of Lutenist Song Writers
(1922–4), and were revised by Thurston Dart and David Scott between
1965 and 1969 in the series The English Lute Songs; A Musicall Banquet
was edited complete for the first time by Peter Stroud for this series in
1968. The part-song versions were edited by Edmund Fellowes,
Thurston Dart and Nigel Fortune as Ayres for Four Voices, MB 6 (1953;
2/1963; 3/1970). The Collected Lute Music of John Dowland was edited
by Diana Poulton and Basil Lam (1974; 2/1978; 3/1981).
By and large, writers on Dowland (and Elizabethan music in general,
for that matter) have been more concerned with biography and source
studies than with writing about the music. This is true of Diana
Poulton’s pioneering John Dowland [JD] (London, 1972; 2/1982),
though she offered some useful comments on the texts of the Lachrimae
pieces and their relationship to other settings. John Ward’s A Dowland
Miscellany [DM], the complete JLSA 10 (1977), is largely a series of
glosses on Poulton’s book, and therefore shares her preoccupations.
For this reason, I have kept discussion of biographical and textual
issues to a minimum, leaving as much space as possible for other things.
Chapter 1 deals with Lachrimae as a document, investigating its publica-
tion history and the implications of its format, while Chapter 2 considers
its instrumentation. Chapter 3 provides a context for understanding its
place in the history of Renaissance dance music. Chapter 4 is concerned
with the seven ‘Lachrimae’ pavans, and with the questions of meaning,
musical context and intellectual background they pose. They are
Preface
xv
difficult questions, and scholars have mostly avoided trying to answer
them, though I am most grateful to Dr Lionel Pike for letting me read the
relevant portions of his unpublished book Expression and the Evolution of
Musical Language, and to David Pinto for allowing me to refer to his
article ‘Dowland’s Tears: Aspects of Lachrimae’ prior to its publication
in The Lute. Chapter 5 deals with the ‘divers other Pavans, Galiards, and
Almands’, considering the significance of the dedications to Dowland’s
friends and patrons, and whether the collection as a whole has any coher-
ence. Chapter 6 is a brief survey of Dowland’s influence on succeeding
generations, and the process of revival in modern times.
A book of this sort is inevitably heavily indebted to the work of others.
My primary debt is to Robert Spencer. He put his unrivalled knowledge
of Dowland at my disposal, and generously spent time and precious
reserves of energy in the last months of his life reading successive drafts
of the first two chapters and finding material for me in his magnificent
library. I am grateful to Tim Carter, Tim Crawford, Ian Harwood,
Lionel Pike, David Pinto, Rudolf Rasch, Richard Rastall, Julian
Rushton, Matthew Spring and Peter Van Heyghen for reading drafts in
whole or part, improving it greatly with their detailed criticism. Also, I
must thank my daughter Sally for preparing the index, and Clifford
Bartlett, Peter Berg, Alison Crum, Charles Foster, Robin Leaver, Paul
O’Dette, Judy Tarling and Christopher R. Wilson for helping me in
various ways.
Preface
xvi
1
The document
English music publishing
Music publishing came late to England.
1
While substantial trades devel-
oped in Venice, Paris, Nuremberg and Antwerp in the first half of the
sixteenth century, virtually no music was published in London until the
1570s, apart from liturgical books with plainsong and collections of met-
rical psalms. It is not entirely clear why England lagged so far behind the
Continent, though Queen Elizabeth tried to improve matters by grant-
ing two monopolies, one in 1559 to John Day for psalm books, and the
other in 1575 for twenty-one years to Thomas Tallis and William Byrd
for polyphonic music. The latter covered ‘set songe or songes in partes,
either in English, Latin, Frenche, Italian, or other tongues that may
serve for musicke either in Church or chamber, or otherwise to be either
plaid or soonge’, as well as ‘any paper to serve for printing or pricking any
songe or songes’ and ‘any printed bokes or papers of any songe or songes,
or any bookes or quieres of such ruled paper imprinted’.
2
Tallis and Byrd used their monopoly to produce Cantiones quae ab
argumento sacrae vocantur (1575), printed by Thomas Vautrollier,
though it did not sell well and they appealed to Elizabeth in June 1577 for
support, claiming they were out of pocket to the tune of at least 200
marks. Only two sets of part-books were issued before 1588, when Byrd,
now sole holder, assigned it to the printer Thomas East. It was East who
began the large-scale publication of polyphonic music, starting with
Musica transalpina and Byrd’s Psalms, Sonets and Songs. The Byrd–East
monopoly expired in 1596, which provided openings for others. William
Barley immediately produced A New Book of Tabliture, the first English
printed collection of songs and solo music for lute, orpharion and
bandora, while Peter Short started in 1597 with, among other things,
1
Thomas Morley’s Plaine and Easie Introduction to Practicall Musicke,
Anthony Holborne’s Cittharn Schoole, Morley’s Canzonets or Little
Short Aers to Five and Sixe Voices, and Dowland’s First Booke of Songes or
Ayres.
The publication of Dowland’s First Booke was a notable event. Short
entered it in the Stationers’ Register together with Morley’s Canzonets
on 31 October 1597, and the two collections share the distinction of
being the first English prints of polyphonic vocal music with a tablature
part.
3
The First Booke was highly successful: it was reprinted at least four
times up to 1613, and its table layout (see below) was the model for all
subsequent lute song collections.
With such a success on his hands, Peter Short must have been disap-
pointed when, in the next year (1598), he was suddenly unable to print
any more music. On 28 September Thomas Morley was granted a
renewal of the music monopoly on similar terms as before, and for the
same period, twenty-one years.
4
For some reason, Morley chose William
Barley as his partner rather than East or Short, the two main London
music printers. But on 29 May 1600 East was also authorised to print
music for three years, and about the same time Short produced some
volumes ‘with the assent of Thomas Morley’, including Robert Jones’s
First Booke of Songes and Ayres (1600), or at ‘the assigne of Th. Morley’,
in the case of the 1600 reprint of Dowland’s First Booke. But this sensible
arrangement did not last long. Morley died in September or October
1602, and though his wife Susan inherited his estate she either died soon
after or did not exercise her claim to the monopoly, and it effectively went
into abeyance after East’s three-year licence expired in May 1603. More-
over James I, the new king, created more uncertainty when, by a procla-
mation dated 7 May 1603, he suspended all monopolies pending an
investigation of the subject.
Dowland’s continental career
When Lachrimae appeared Dowland had been working abroad for a
decade.
5
He had left England in 1594 after failing to obtain a vacant post
as a court lutenist. After working briefly at Wolfenbüttel and Kassel, he
left Germany for Italy to study with the Roman composer Luca Maren-
zio. According to a letter he wrote to Sir Robert Cecil from Nuremberg
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
2
on 10 November 1595* (see Chapter 4), he got as far as Florence, where
he was drawn into a group of English Catholics involved in plotting
against Queen Elizabeth. He protested his innocence to Cecil, claiming
that he quickly realised the seriousness of his position and returned to
Germany, though the English authorities probably continued to regard
him with suspicion. He certainly failed a second time to obtain an
English court post during a visit in 1597, when he took the opportunity
to publish The First Booke, and on 18 November 1598* he entered the
service of Christian IV of Denmark.
Dowland was evidently highly valued by Christian IV. His salary of
500 Daler (more than £200 in contemporary English money) made him
one of the highest paid court servants; his successor, Thomas Cutting,
only received 300 Daler a year. He also received occasional gifts from the
king, and was allowed extended periods of leave in England. The first
visit occurred over the autumn, winter and spring of 1601–2, and was
made to recruit musicians and purchase instruments. Dowland’s second
journey from Denmark to England occurred sometime between 15 July
1603*, when he received his salary up to 18 August*, and 10 July 1604*,
when he was given arrears of pay up to 18 August* with the proviso that:
it depends on His Royal Majesty’s gracious pleasure whether His Majesty
will be pleased to grant him the same salary, in view of the fact that he has
travelled to England on his own business and remained there a long while,
longer than His Royal Majesty had granted him leave of absence. And in
case His Royal Majesty will not grant [part] of the same salary, he shall do
future service therefore, or give satisfaction to His Royal Majesty there-
fore in other ways.
He must have still been in London on 9 May 1604, the day he wrote out a
lute piece for a foreign visitor, Hans von Bodeck of Elbing (now Elblag in
Poland).
6
The publication of Lachrimae
It is often thought that Dowland made the 1603–4 journey to England
specifically to publish Lachrimae, but his main motive seems to have been
to lobby James I for the court post he had repeatedly failed to obtain from
Queen Elizabeth. Indeed, he probably began to make preparations for
The document
3
the trip soon after the news of Elizabeth’s death on 24 March 1603
reached Denmark. He clearly planned to approach James through the
queen, Anne of Denmark, sister of his employer Christian IV, using
Lachrimae to attract her attention. He dedicated it to Anne, and a close
reading of the graceful dedication reveals a good deal about his plans and
activities in the months before it was published:
Since I had accesse to your Highnesse at Winchester (most gracious
Queene) I have been twice under sayle for Denmarke, hastning my returne
to my most royall King and Master, your deare and worthiest Brother; but
by contrary windes and frost, I was forst backe againe, and of necessitie
compeld to winter here in your most happie Kingdome. In which time I
have endevoured by my poore labour and study to manifest my humble-
nesse and dutie to your highnesse, being my selfe one of your most affec-
tionate Subjects, and also servant to your most Princely Brother, the onely
Patron and Sun-shine of my else unhappie Fortunes. For which respects I
have presumed to Dedicate this worke of Musicke to your sacred hands,
that was begun where you were borne, and ended where you raigne. And
though the title doth promise teares, unfit guests in these joyfull times, yet
no doubt pleasant are the teares which Musicke weepes, neither are teares
shed alwayes in sorrowe, but sometime in joy and gladnesse. Vouchsafe
then (worthy Goddesse) your Gracious protection to these showers of
Harmonie, least if you frowne on them, they bee Metamorphosed into
true teares.
We learn from this that Dowland was in England by the middle of
September 1603: the queen arrived in Winchester on the 18th and stayed
there until late October. The entertainment during her visit included a
masque on 17 October – in which, perhaps, he played.
7
He wrote that he
‘had accesse’ to the queen at Winchester, which implies that he spoke to
her in person, presumably requesting permission to dedicate Lachrimae
to her and perhaps hinting that he was interested in a court post. His
original plan was to return to Denmark before the winter, but he left it
too late: he was ‘twice under sayle’ before ‘contrary windes and frost’
forced him to spend the winter in England. His statement that Lachrimae
was ‘begun where you were borne, and ended where you raigne’ could
mean that it was unfinished when he left Denmark, and needed ‘labour
and study’ that winter in England to finish it, a point developed in
Chapter 2.
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
4
If so, then Dowland could hardly have come to England in 1603 to see
Lachrimae through the press. Had he returned to Denmark according to
plan it is unlikely he would have had time to finish it before his departure,
and he would have had to send the manuscript to London by post, as he
had done with his two previous collections. The dedication of The
Second Booke of Songs or Ayres to Lucy, Countess of Bedford is signed
‘From Helsingnoure in Denmarke the first of June. 1600’*, and we know
from a complicated series of lawsuits (discussed below) that the pub-
lisher purchased the collection from Dowland’s wife in London. Also,
Dowland remarked in the preface to his Third and Last Booke of Songs or
Aires (1603) that it had been ‘fetcht far from home, and brought even
through the most perilous seas’; it was registered at Stationers’ Hall on
21 February 1603, when he was certainly in Denmark.
8
Lachrimae was entered by Thomas Adams in the Stationers’ Register
on 2 April 1604,
9
but there is no mention of him on the title-page: it was
just ‘Printed by John Windet, dwelling at the Signe of the Crosse Keyes
at Powles Wharfe’, and ‘solde at the Authors house in Fetter-lane neare
Fleet-streete’. Windet and Adams had both taken advantage of the
hiatus in the music monopoly to become involved in publishing music.
Windet had started printing psalm books in 1592 using John Day’s old
music type, which may have originated in Antwerp.
10
He began printing
secular polyphonic music with Lachrimae and Thomas Greaves’s Songes
of Sundrie Kindes (both entered in the Stationers’ Register on the same
day) and continued with a number of part-book and table layout collec-
tions over the next three years, by Richard Alison, John Bartlet, John
Coprario, Michael East, Thomas Ford, Tobias Hume and Robert Jones.
Windet began to use a new fount when he turned to secular music. Like
several others used at the time by London printers, it was modelled on
the one Vautrollier seems to have obtained from Pierre Haultin in La
Rochelle, though Windet mixed in pieces from the Day fount and, prob-
ably, other sources; the most obvious sign of this in Lachrimae is the
apparently incongruous use of several types of sharps and flats on the
same page.
11
The tablature type used by Windet in Lachrimae and his other table
layout books is essentially that used by William Barley in Alison’s
Psalmes of David in Meter (1599) and Morley’s First Booke of Ayres
(1600), and was apparently borrowed by Windet from Barley; Barley
The document
5
used it again in Thomas Robinson’s New Citharen Lessons (1609).
12
Lachrimae differs from the other examples of the Barley–Windet tabla-
ture in its extensive use of beamed rhythm flags, which presumably
reflects Dowland’s own preference. They also appear in the autograph
sections of the Dowland Lutebook in Washington and the Board Manu-
script, though oddly not in any of his song books.
13
William Chappell
claimed in 1844 that Edward Rimbault was ‘in possession of a portion of
the original manuscript’, though it does not appear in the catalogue of
Rimbault’s library, sold in 1877, and does not seem to survive.
14
Thomas Adams had been a bookseller and publisher at the White Lion
in St Paul’s Churchyard from 1591, but started publishing music in 1603
taking advantage of the hiatus in the music monopoly. He began with
Dowland’s Third and Last Booke and a reprint of The First Booke, and
went on to issue Dowland’s translation of Andreas Ornithoparcus his
Micrologus (1609), and Robert Dowland’s anthologies Varietie of Lute-
Lessons (1610) and A Musicall Banquet (1610), as well as collections by
John Danyel and Thomas Ravenscroft. It seems that Dowland had also
planned to use Adams to publish Lachrimae, but changed his mind,
perhaps because his enforced stay in England gave him the time to organ-
ise its sale himself, and he thought he could make more money that way.
Perhaps Dowland came to this conclusion by hearing about the com-
plicated and protracted series of lawsuits relating to the publication of
The Second Booke between the publisher George Eastland and Thomas
East.
15
He would doubtless have been interested to learn that Eastland
printed 1000 copies (the largest run allowed by the Stationers’ Company)
and planned to sell them at 4s 6d each. Thus Eastland stood to make as
much as £225 against expenses he estimated at £100, but East described
that sum as ‘such apparent an untruth’, and submitted a more detailed
and convincing estimate of only £47 12s. It reveals that Dowland’s wife
received £20 ‘for the manuscript and half the dedication’ – that is, half
the reward that could be expected from the queen for the dedication. No
wonder Dowland was tempted to publish Lachrimae himself.
Lachrimae was published without a date, though the copies in Man-
chester Public Library and the British Library have the dates 1605 and
1605 or possibly 1606 added by hand to the title-page.
16
1605 was
accepted by earlier scholars, but both dates were apparently added rela-
tively recently and have no authority; the entry in the Stationers’ Register
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
6
makes it clear it appeared in the spring of 1604. But scholars do not seem
to have asked themselves why Lachrimae is one of the very few undated
typeset music prints from Elizabethan and Jacobean England. To answer
the question we must return to the tangled and uncertain situation in the
music publishing trade.
With the litigation surrounding The Second Booke fresh in his mind, it
is easy to see why Dowland might have chosen to disguise the fact that it
had appeared without the authorisation of the holder of the monopoly or
an assignee at a period when the ownership of the monopoly was in ques-
tion. He was perhaps wise to be cautious, for in May 1606 and October
1609 William Barley won court cases against East and Adams, claiming
an interest in the monopoly as Morley’s former partner.
17
Dowland
might also have decided to leave the date off the title-page of Lachrimae
because he was not sure how long he would be in England, when he
would return, or how well the collection would sell in his absence. It
would have been easier to dispose of the stock over a period if it was not
obvious on the title-page that it was no longer a novelty. For a similar
reason, most engraved editions issued by eighteenth-century English
music publishers are undated: it allowed them to run off more copies as
and when demand arose without revealing the age of the publication, and
without having to change the title-page.
The table layout
The normal way of publishing polyphonic vocal or instrumental music
was in sets of quarto part-books, with each book containing all the parts
in the collection for a particular instrument or voice range. But The First
Booke is a folio intended to be placed flat on a small table, to be read by the
performers grouped around it. Each piece is laid out on a single opening,
with the Cantus and the lute tablature underlaid on the left-hand page,
and the other three vocal parts grouped around the three sides of the
right-hand page.
One of the attractions of the table layout was its flexibility. Since each
opening could be laid out differently, it was easy to include a wide variety
of music, including solo songs, part-songs, madrigals, masque music and
even anthems and motets, while Dowland developed a type of part-song
for the format that could be used in many different ways. All the songs in
The document
7
The First Booke can be performed by a single person singing the tune and
playing the underlaid tablature on the left-hand page. Alternatively, they
can be sung as part-songs with or without the lute, using some or all of the
lower parts on the right-hand page, or with viols replacing or doubling
some or all of the voices. It was an elegant solution to the problem of
printing music with a tablature part as well as staff notation. Morley’s
Canzonets, its competitor, inspired no imitations, probably partly because
it was a set of part-books with the tablature printed inconveniently on
separate pages of the Cantus – requiring two copies for performance.
18
The table layout was not entirely Dowland’s invention. GB-Lbl, Add.
MS 31390, a large manuscript dated 1578 of ‘In Nomines & other sol-
fainge Songes’ for ‘voyces or Instrumentes’, has the parts of each piece
spread around the four sides of each opening.
19
Similar formats had
already been used in continental publications. Jacques Moderne printed
four-part pieces in Le parangnon des chansons (Lyons, 1538–43) on a
single opening, with two of the parts upside-down at the top of the page,
while the lute duets in Pierre Phalèse’s Hortus musarum and Luculentum
theatrum musicum(Louvain, 1552, 1568) are arranged so that the players
sit facing each other; in Florilegium by Adrian Denss (Cologne, 1594),
the lutenist sits opposite the singers.
20
Similarly, in an Elizabethan lute
song manuscript, GB-Lbl, Add. MS 4900, the performers sit facing one
another or at right angles.
Of course, the table layout is related to the choirbook format, in which
all the parts of a polyphonic vocal piece are spread around a single
opening but face the same direction; the book is placed on a lectern or
music desk rather than flat on a table. It was used in some continental
vocal collections with tablature parts, such as Emanuel Adriaenssen’s
Pratum musicum and Novum pratum musicum (Antwerp, 1584, 1592), and
the Canzonette a tre voci (Venice, 1596) by Alessandro Orologio, the
Prague-based wind player Dowland met at Kassel in 1594.
21
A similar
format is used for the two fantasias for cittern and/or three single-line
instruments in Holborne’s Cittharn Schoole.
22
Dowland’s innovation
was to apply the full table layout of Add. MS 31390, with parts laid
around all four sides of the book, to a printed collection and to flexible
combinations of voices and lute.
Lachrimae is modelled on The First Booke and other lute-song collec-
tions in table layout. It is also a folio book, with the parts for each piece
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
8
distributed around the sides of a single opening in the following order:
Cantus (left bottom), Bassus (left middle, facing outwards), Quintus
(left top, upside down), Tenor (right top, upside down), the lute tabla-
ture (right middle, opposite the Bassus), and Altus (right bottom) (see
Fig. 1.1). Dowland presumably chose the table layout for Lachrimae
because it had been so successful in The First Booke. But he may also have
been trying to avoid an obvious problem with conventional part-books:
the tablature takes up more space than the other parts. The problem was
avoided in Morley’s First Booke of Consort Lessons (1599; 2/1611) and
Philip Rosseter’s Lessons for Consort (1609) by printing the lute part in
folio and the others in quarto.
23
But this created another problem: the
sets did not have a consistent format, and so there was a danger that the
lute part would get separated from the others, or would have to be folded
across the middle to fit on a shelf with them, risking damage. This is
perhaps why we have no example of the two editions of Morley’s lute
part and only a few fragments of a single copy of Rosseter’s; significantly,
they show signs of having been folded.
24
But publishing consort music in table layout created its own prob-
lems. Dowland was aware that space round the table would be limited,
for he placed the parts for the bass and lute, the largest instruments, on
the sides of the opening facing in, so that they had the most room. But
even so, experiment shows that it is difficult to get five viol players and a
lutenist seated around a single table and a single copy of the collection:
if they get close enough to read the music comfortably there is no room
for bowing; if they withdraw to a comfortable distance the music is too
small to read.
25
Of course, the same arguments apply to Add. MS
31390, but Warwick Edwards has argued, using the phrase ‘solfainge
Songes’ in its title as evidence, that the Elizabethan instrumental
ensemble repertory was used for singing as much as playing, particu-
larly for didactic purposes in choir schools.
26
It is also possible that
some of its pieces were intended for wind players, who, like singers,
would have had less trouble than string players gathering around a
single book. Another option for performers of Lachrimae, of course,
was to buy more than one copy, and this is perhaps why two were
included in the collection of English music prints purchased by a
German nobleman in London in 1630, until recently in the library of
Schlobitten Castle.
27
The document
9
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
10
Fig. 1.1 The table layout: Lachrimae, sig. B1, B2
The document
11
Fig. 1.1 (cont.)
All in all, Lachrimae does not seem to have been very successful. We do
not know how well it sold, or how much money Dowland made out of it,
but he never acted as his own publisher again, and it was never reprinted,
despite his fame and the rarity of English publications of consort music;
Lachrimae was only the third, after Morley’s Consort Lessons and
Anthony Holborne’s Pavans, Galliards, Almains (1599).
28
The Prussian
nobleman’s purchase shows that there was still unsold stock in 1630,
though this may tell us more about the embryonic nature of the English
music trade than about how the collection was perceived by Dowland’s
contemporaries.
29
But no one repeated the experiment of printing
consort music in table layout, and its music had little influence on
English composers, who had begun to move on to other things by 1604.
Doubtless Dowland was disappointed by the failure of Lachrimae to
obtain him that coveted court post, though a sensible person would have
realised that he was putting Queen Anne into an impossible position: she
could hardly be seen to be poaching a servant of her brother. It was also
perhaps unwise to have added the motto ‘Aut Furit, aut Lachrimat,
quem non Fortuna beavit’ (‘whom Fortune has not blessed, he either
rages or weeps’) on the title-page, for it might have been construed as a
criticism of his employer. But common sense was not Dowland’s strong
point: as his friend Henry Peacham put it in The Compleat Gentleman
(1622), he ‘slipt many opportunities in advancing his fortunes’.
30
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
12
2
The instruments
When John Dowland published Lachrimae he was contributing to a genre
that was about a century old. The idea of developing instruments in several
sizes to play polyphonic music, mimicking the ranges of the various voices
of a vocal ensemble, seems to go back to the late fourteenth century, when a
tenor-range bombard was developed from the soprano-range shawm. The
flute, the recorder and the douçaine (probably a soft type of shawm) were
developed in sets or consorts during the fifteenth century. But it was not
until the 1490s that the idea was applied to bowed instruments.
1
The viol consort was apparently developed in Brescia around 1495 on
the orders of Isabella d’Este, the wife of Francesco Gonzaga, Duke of
Mantua. The model was an existing tenor-sized bowed instrument
recently imported into Italy from the Valencian area of Spain. The
Valencian viol, like other mediaeval bowed instruments, only existed in a
single size and had been used to play monophonic music using drone
techniques with a flat bridge or no bridge at all. So to make it suitable for
polyphonic music it had to be fitted with an arched bridge, and two other
sizes were developed, making a consort of three. The violin consort was
apparently developed in a similar fashion about a decade later at the
neighbouring Este court in Ferrara by deriving a bass and a soprano from
the alto-range vielle. The viol and the violin retained many of the charac-
teristics of the parent instruments: the Valencian viol was a fairly large
instrument held upright on the lap (da gamba), with a flat back and frets,
while the vielle was a smaller instrument played on the shoulder (da
braccio), with an arched back and no frets.
Thus, the viol was not the ancestor of the violin, as is often thought.
The two families were invented at about the same time, for similar
reasons but for different purposes. They provided the advanced
humanist circle of the Estes and Gonzagas with an alternative to
13
consorts of wind instruments. Following classical authors such as Plato
and Aristotle, humanist thought regarded winds as less noble than
strings, and the phallic associations of wind instruments also made
them unsuitable for the patronage of female aristocrats such as Isabella
d’Este and Lucrezia Borgia, Alfonso d’Este’s wife. But they were used
in different ways. Viols, soft, sonorous but rather lacking in attack,
were suitable for serious contrapuntal music, while violins, louder,
higher-pitched and more sprightly, were ideal for the new repertory of
composed four-, five- and six-part dance music.
The viol and the violin spread with remarkable rapidity all over
Europe in the first half of the sixteenth century. This was partly because
they were perceived to be the best vehicles for the new repertories of
polyphonic instrumental music, but it was also because they were typi-
cally played by self-sufficient and mobile groups of professional musi-
cians based on one or two families, who recruited their own personnel,
composed or arranged their own repertory, and often made their own
instruments. The viol was probably brought to the English court
around 1515 by members of the van Wilder family from The Nether-
lands, and their consort was superseded there in 1540 by a six-man
group made up of three families of Sephardic Jews from Venice, Milan
and Brescia who played violins as well as viols.
2
The ensemble they
founded served successive English monarchs from Henry VIII to
Charles I, and formed the nucleus of the Twenty-four Violins in Charles
II’s reign.
The viol and the violin apparently began to appear in English aristo-
cratic households in the 1530s and the 1560s respectively, and were taken
up by waits (town musicians) and humbler professionals several decades
later.
3
There were sufficient instrumentalists at court to allow a group to
specialise in stringed instruments, but musicians elsewhere had to be
more versatile. ‘R. B.’, the author of the treatise ‘Some Rules and Orders
for the Government of an Earle’ (c. 1605), thought that an earl should
employ five musicians for the following duties:
At greate feastes when the Earles service is going to the table they are to
play upon Shagbutts, Cornetts, Shalmes, and such other instruments
going with winde. In meale times to play upon vialls, violens or other[wise]
broken musicke. They are to teach the Earles children to singe and play
upon the base violl the virginalls, Lute, Bandora, or Citerne.
4
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
14
R. B. assumed that professionals would play the main sets of ensemble
instruments but would teach the children of the house solo instruments.
In Mantua and Ferrara aristocrats had played in the earliest viol con-
sorts, but in England the more advanced skills required for playing in
ensembles were not generally cultivated by amateurs until the reign of
James I. In Elizabethan England the viol was almost as closely associated
with professionals as the violin.
For this reason, only a few publications of consort music appeared in
England during Dowland’s lifetime, and we should not assume that they
were aimed exclusively at the amateur market. Anthony Holborne adver-
tised Pavans, Galliards, Almains (1599) as suitable ‘for Viols, Violins, or
Other[wise] Musicall Winde Instruments’, which recalls the list of
instruments R. B. recommended for household musicians. Dedicating
the collection to Sir Richard Champernowne of Modbury in south
Devon, Holborne wrote that it contained ‘a more liberall and enlarged
choice then hath at any time as yet come to your refined eares’. Thus it
seems that the collection was partly written for Champernowne’s house-
hold musicians, and that his role was as a listener rather than partici-
pant.
5
Obvious purchasers would have been those professional groups
that did not have a skilled composer or arranger at their disposal.
Nor should we assume that Holborne intended the instruments he
lists to be mixed together. The normal practice of professional groups
was to use them as alternatives in a musical menu rather than as ingre-
dients in a single dish. They would have used wind instruments outdoors
and (as R. B. suggests) in processions, viols for Tafelmusik, and violins
for the dancing that regularly followed Elizabethan meals. Loud wind
bands often mixed shawms, sackbuts and curtals, but the only estab-
lished mixed ensemble of soft instruments in Elizabethan England was
the six-man group of treble viol or violin, tenor flute or recorder, bass
viol, lute, cittern and bandora, used in Morley’s Consort Lessons, Ros-
seter’s Lessons for Consort, and several manuscript sources.
6
But this
genre, with three parts in tablature and only three in staff notation, was
quite distinct from the main repertory of five- and six-part staff-notation
music, and was regarded as something of an exotic musical luxury.
Charles Butler wrote as late as 1636 that ‘The several kinds of Instru-
ments ar commonly used severally by them selves: as a Set of Viols, a Set
of Waits [shawms], or the like’, but added: ‘sometimes, upon some
The instruments
15
special occasion, many of both Sorts ar moste sweetely joined in
Consort’.
7
Thus we should think twice about playing five-part dance
music of the sort published by Holborne with mixed ensembles. Every-
thing we know about sixteenth-century instrumentation suggests that it
was intended for five instruments of the same family.
Lachrimae and the Anglo-German repertory
The same arguments apply to Lachrimae. It is a collection of five-part
dance music, and it has a similar formula on the title-page: ‘set forth for
the Lute, Viols, or Violons, in five parts’. But Dowland did not include
‘Musicall Winde Instruments’, and it is worth considering why. It was
presumably partly because he was aware of the potential problems of
combining wind instruments with a lute (a point to which we will
return), but it was also because Lachrimae is to some extent more typical
of consort music written by English musicians on the Continent than of
English consort music: Dowland’s phrase in the dedication that Lachri-
mae ‘was begun where you were borne, and ended where you raigne’
seems to mean that some of the pieces were written for court musicians in
Denmark.
Dowland was not the only English musician to work at the Danish
court. Several groups had been there in the 1580s, and those who were
there with him include William Brade (1594–6, 1599–1606), John
Meinert or Myners (1599–1601), Daniel Norcombe (1599–1601), the
dancing master Henry Sandam (1601–2), and Bendix or Benedictus
Greebe or Grep (1595–1619), who was perhaps an Englishman, Bene-
dict Greeve or Greaves, and the harpist ‘Carolus Oralii’ (1601–2),
perhaps an Irishman, Charles O’Reilly. Dowland may have been recom-
mended to Christian IV by one of them, or alternatively by his friend
Alessandro Orologio, who had connections with the Danish court.
Christian IV was not alone in employing Englishmen. Between about
1580 and 1620 many musicians left England to work on the Continent.
Some, like Peter Philips, Richard Deering, Daniel Norcombe and John
Bull, were Catholic refugees from persecution. Others were members of
theatre companies forced to tour abroad by the statute of 1572 that
restricted the activities of ‘Comon Players in Enterludes & Minstrels’.
8
Some, like the influential composers William Brade and Thomas
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
16
Simpson, were apparently just attracted by the possibility of lucrative
employment in the prosperous cities and small courts of Germany and
Scandinavia. Many were string players. The five Englishmen who came
from Copenhagen in 1586 to work in Dresden were Geiger (fiddlers), and
were partly hired to ‘entertain and play music on their Geygen and
instruments of such like’ during meals, while an account of a theatre
group that arrived in Kassel in 1601 refers to their Saitenspiel (string
playing).
9
Brade called himself ‘Violist und Musicus’ and ‘Fiolist und
Musicum’ on the title-pages of his 1609 and 1614 collections, while
Simpson described himself as ‘Violisten und Musicum’ on the title-
pages of his three collections.
10
These émigrés developed an Anglo-German repertory that was
founded on English consort music, but differed from it in several
respects. Since most of it was the work of string players rather than
organists or choir masters, it consisted of dance music rather than fanta-
sias, and was focused particularly on sets of violins or viols. Some collec-
tions, such those published by Zacharius Füllsack and Christian
Hildebrand in 1607 and 1609, by Simpson in 1610, and by Brade in 1614
and 1617, use variants of the phrase ‘auff allerley Instrumenten und
insonderheit auff Fiolen zu gebrauchen’ (‘for various instruments, and
particularly suitable for strings’), though they were rarely as specific as
Bartolomeus Praetorius, with the formula ‘auf der Figoli Gamba und
Figoli di Braccia artlich zu gebrauchen’ in his Newe liebliche Paduanen
und Galliarden (Berlin, 1616).
11
Michael Praetorius wrote in 1618–19
that town musicians call viols Violen and violins Geigen or Polnische
Geigen, though there is evidence that, in the Anglo-German repertory at
least, Violen (or Fiolen) was used like the parent Italian word viole to
mean violins as well as viols.
12
Instrumentation
Nearly all treatises of the time give three tunings for the viol and violin
families, not four.
13
For example, Giovanni Maria Lanfranco wrote in his
Scintille di musica (Brescia, 1533) that when a contralto was used in the
violin consort each string was ‘made to resonate in unison with the
Tenor’, and that a contralto viol was tuned ‘string by string in unison with
the Tenor’.
14
Thus, four-part music laid out in the standard way with a
The instruments
17
single soprano, two inner parts and bass was played with a single violin,
two violas, and a bass violin, or a treble viol, two tenor viols and a bass viol.
The modern notion of a fourth size of violin, the so-called ‘tenor violin’,
seems to derive from an implausible statement in Lodovico Zacconi’s
Prattica di musica (Venice, 1592), copied by Daniel Hitzler in Extract aus
der neuen Musica oder Singkunst (Nuremberg, 1623), which allocates the
tuning F–c–g–dЈ to the viola.
15
Praetorius gave it as a bass tuning, and it
was probably used on small bass violins made to be played standing or
walking along, slung across the chest and supported by a strap.
16
When a
third inner part was added to the texture, as it generally was towards the
end of the sixteenth century, then the extra part (or Quintus) was played
on a third alto or tenor, not a second soprano or bass. Thus Mersenne
wrote that the French court violin band, the Vingt-quatre violons, played
in five parts with ‘six trebles, six basses, four contratenors, four altos, and
four of a fifth part’; the three inner parts were played by violas ‘of differ-
ent sizes, even though they are [tuned] in unison’.
17
This exemplifies a basic principle of sixteenth-century instrumenta-
tion that is often ignored today: instruments are allocated according to
function, so soprano instruments, such as the treble viol and the violin,
only play soprano parts, bass instruments only play bass parts, and alto
or tenor instruments only play inner parts – which is why the inner parts
of Lachrimae and virtually all other consort music of the time never go
below c, the lowest note of the viola and many tenor wind instruments.
Thus Peter Warlock was wide of the mark when he scored his edition of
Lachrimae for two violins, viola and two cellos. It should have been violin,
three violas and bass violin – or on viols, treble, three tenors and bass.
Towards the end of the sixteenth century a new scoring developed in
consort music, exemplified in Lachrimae by ‘M. Thomas Collier his
Galiard with 2 Trebles’. The Quintus was raised an octave from its
normal tenor range, turning it into a Cantus Secundus that continually
crosses and exchanges material with the Cantus. According to the princi-
ple of allocating instruments just explained, pieces using this scoring
require two violins, two violas and bass violin, or two treble viols, two
tenors and bass. When Dowland used the two-soprano scoring in
‘Collier’ he was conforming to German or Anglo-German, rather than
English, practice. The two-soprano scoring seems to have come into
German dance music from Italian madrigals and balletti, as well as from
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
18
Italianate vocal music by German composers. In Hans Leo Hassler’s
Lustgarten neuer teutscher Gesäng (Nuremberg, 1601), for instance, six-
part intradas appear side-by-side with five-part German songs in a
dance-like idiom derived from Gastoldi; both use the two-soprano
scoring.
18
More relevant to Dowland, Alessandro Orologio used the two-
soprano scoring throughout his five- and six-part Intradae, a collection
dedicated to Christian IV.
19
The scoring is also found in many Anglo-
German sources, starting with D-Kl, 4°MS mus. 125, 1–5, a manuscript
containing fifty-three five-part pavans apparently copied by an English-
man in Kassel around 1600, and the slightly later 4° MS mus. 72, 1–5,
containing a number of pavans by the Landgrave of Hesse.
20
Later exam-
ples include pieces in the 1607 and 1609 Füllsack and Hildebrand
anthologies, the 1610 and 1617 prints by Simpson, and the 1609, 1614,
1617 and 1621 prints by Brade. The two-soprano scoring does not seem
to have been used in English five-part dance music until the second
decade of the seventeenth century; the first examples are probably in
GB-Lbl, Add. MSS 17786–91, apparently copied in Oxford by William
Wigthorpe around 1615.
21
I drew attention earlier to the phrase in the Lachrimae dedication that
suggests the collection was partly written in Denmark and partly in
England. I believe this explains an odd feature of the writing: the pieces
can be divided by the range of their parts into two groups. The first, con-
sisting of the seven ‘Lachrimae’ pavans, ‘Dolens’, ‘Unton’ and ‘Souch’,
are generally low pitched and use the soprano (c1) clef for the Cantus
part, which in several cases goes down to b or cЈ. The others lie rather
higher, particularly in the upper parts, while the Cantus is in the treble
(g2) clef, and never goes below dЈ, with some pieces only going down
to gЈ.
Why is this so? An obvious possibility is that one group was written
in Denmark for performers at Christian IV’s court, while the other
was completed in England specifically for the publication. Dowland
implies as much by describing Lachrimae in the preface as ‘a long and
troublesome worke, wherein I have mixed new songs with olde, grave
with light’. If so, then the high-pitched pieces are likely to be the ones
written in Denmark, for several reasons. They include most of the
pieces known to have been written earlier as songs or lute solos, such
The instruments
19
as ‘Essex’, ‘Noel’ and ‘Piper’. Among them is ‘Collier’, with its
Anglo-German two-soprano scoring, as well as ‘Denmark’, dedicated
to his employer Christian IV. Furthermore, the low-pitched group
includes the seven ‘Lachrimae’ pavans, none of which exists in earlier
versions – apart, of course, from ‘Antiquae’. It is possible, even likely,
that they were written at a late stage specifically for the publication, in
England rather than Denmark. It raises the remarkable possibility
that Dowland wrote his most sublime and complex works in relative
haste during the winter of 1604–5.
Chiavette and transposition
Another possibility is that, in the form that they appear in Lachrimae, the
two groups are intended for different instruments. Violins are smaller,
livelier instruments than the equivalent sizes of viols, and work better
playing higher-pitched music. In particular, the violin and the viola have
smaller bodies and shorter string lengths, with bottom strings a fourth
higher than their equivalents, the treble viol and the tenor viol. For this
reason, in Italy violins were classed with cornetts as stromenti acuti that
either transposed up low-tessitura music in low clefs or chiavi naturali
(typically c1–c3–c4–F4), or played high-tessitura music in high clefs or
chiavette (typically g2–c2–c3–c4 or F3) come stà – at pitch.
22
By contrast,
the stromenti coristi, principally viols and recorders, used clef combina-
tions in the same way as vocal ensembles: they played low clefs come stà
but transposed chiavette pieces down; the interval traversed varied
between a second and a fifth, but normally seems to have been a fourth.
In this way, it was possible to avoid the thin and unlovely upper regis-
ter of the treble viol as well as the unsatisfactory bottom strings of the
violin and the viola. Before metal wound strings were developed in the
1650s thick and unwieldy plain gut had to be used for their bottom
strings, which were therefore avoided as much as possible in favour of
their middle and upper registers. It is possible that other methods of
increasing the density of strings without increasing their thickness, such
as ‘loading’ them in copper solution or roping together several strands of
gut, had been developed earlier, but we do not know whether they were
used by musicians associated with Dowland, and the whole subject is
controversial at present.
23
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
20
It was also possible to increase the sonority of a viol consort by using a
consort pitched a fourth or fifth lower than the standard one, using a
tenor, two or three basses, and a great bass. Praetorius associated this
device with the English, when they are ‘playing viols on their own’, and
thought it sounded ‘much more rich and majestic’ than a consort ‘tuned
to the usual pitches’.
24
It is important, of course, not to confuse these
transposing devices with the variations in pitch standard that existed at
the time between different places, and between different types of ensem-
ble. At present, it is not possible to draw any firm conclusions about the
pitch standards used by Danish or English string consorts in the early
seventeenth century, though they are likely to have been substantially
lower than modern pitch or the various church and organ pitches of the
time.
25
Wind instruments were usually made to play at high pitch, which
may be one reason why Dowland did not specify them on the title-page
of Lachrimae.
The musicians who developed the Anglo-German repertory evi-
dently knew the chiavette system. The 1607 and 1609 Füllsack and
Hildebrand anthologies, for instance, have five-part pieces in
g2–g2–c2–c3–F3 as well as c1–c1–c3–c4–F4 clefs, as does Simpson’s
1610 collection, while Simpson’s violinistic 1617 collection is entirely in
chiavette. But the repertory also includes many examples of mixed clefs,
including the ones used in Lachrimae, c1 or g2–c2–c3–c4–F4, and, sig-
nificantly, they are often applied to English pieces. Furthermore,
g2–c2–c3–c4–F4 is used for most of Holborne’s Pavans, Galliards,
Almains, though some of the more sombre pavans, like Dowland’s seven
‘Lachrimae’ pavans, have low-lying Cantus parts in c1. Ian Harwood has
drawn attention to evidence of two pitch standards a fourth apart in
English mixed consort music and related repertories, though there is
little or no evidence of chiavette in the mainstream repertory of single-
line consort music.
26
The contents of the two Elizabethan Consort Music
volumes in Musica Britannica, for instance, are almost entirely in chiavi
naturali or in mixed clefs; significantly, the main exceptions are three In
Nomines by the Italian Alfonso Ferrabosco I, in g2–c1–c2–c3–F3 clefs.
27
What does all this mean for Lachrimae? Though it does not divide into
chiavette and chiavi naturali as clearly as some other Anglo-German col-
lections, it could be that Dowland wrote the high-pitched group for a
violin consort at the Danish court, and the low-pitched pieces with viols
The instruments
21
mainly in mind, specially for the publication. In practice, the low-pitched
pieces gain from being transposed up a fourth when performed by a violin
consort using plain gut strings, and there is some evidence that this was
done at the time. ‘Antiquae’ is in A minor, as is ‘Flow my teares’, while
most lute settings are in G minor. But a surprising number of settings in
other media are in D minor, including those for keyboard by Byrd and
Sweelinck, a five-part arrangement by William Wigthorpe, an incom-
plete Scottish one in Thomas Wode’s part-books, and Morley’s mixed
consort arrangement.
28
The last three are probably examples of upward
transposition in action, made to bring the soprano part into a good range
for the violin.
The lute part
Lachrimae was the first collection of string consort music with a tablature
part, though parts with a similar function were printed in some six-
teenth-century collections of music for voices and lutes, while Orazio
Vecchi’s Selva di varia ricreatione (Venice, 1590) includes a ‘Saltarello
detto Trivella’ for five-part ‘Stromenti da corde’ and lute in a collection
of largely vocal music.
29
Furthermore, several pictures show lutes
playing with violin consorts. Obvious examples are the illustration of a
wedding banquet in Düsseldorf on 16 June 1585* with what seems to be
a four-part violin consort, a virginal and a lute, and the painting Courtiers
of Queen Elizabeth of about 1600 attributed to Marcus Gheeraerts the
Elder, which seems to show a four-part violin consort and lute.
30
So the
practice of accompanying string consorts with plucked instruments was
not new in 1604.
The Lachrimae tablature part requires an ordinary tenor lute using the
standard English tuning, G–c–f–a–dЈ–gЈ, for the stopped courses. In
solo music the tuning could be relative rather than absolute, founded on
Gamut (treatises merely advise the player to tune the top string ‘so high
as you dare venture for breaking’), but in Lachrimae and other consort
music it had to conform to the pitch of the rest of the ensemble.
31
Thus
the Lachrimae tablature part confirms an absolute G tuning, assuming, of
course, that the other instruments are not transposing from their written
pitches. Lachrimae is the first English collection to require a nine-course
lute with three diapasons tuned to various combinations of F, E, D and
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
22
C, though Antoine Francisque had already used a similar arrangement in
Le Trésor d’Orphée (Paris, 1600; repr. 1973). Dowland probably started
playing on a six-course lute with the three lowest courses strung in
octaves, as recommended in Adrian Le Roy’s A Briefe and easye
instru[c]tion to learne the tableture to conduct and dispose thy hande unto the
Lute (1568) (repeated as late as 1596 in Barley’s Newe Booke of Tabliture),
and wrote for a seven-course lute in his first three song books. He evi-
dently favoured unison basses in later life, for he wrote of octave string-
ing in the Varietie of Lute-Lessons that ‘amongst learned Musitions that
custome is left, as irregular to the rules of Musicke’.
There has been controversy in modern times over the nature and the
function of the Lachrimae lute part. The phrase ‘set forth for the Lute,
Viols, or Violons’ on the title-page has sometimes been thought of as a
list of alternatives, implying that the lute part could be played by itself or
could be omitted in performances with viols or violins. Dowland
referred to Lachrimae as ‘my Lute-lessons’ in the preface, and some of
the tablature parts circulated as solos in manuscript; seven were even
printed as such in Joachim van den Hove’s Delitae musicae (Utrecht,
1612). A few of them, such as ‘Dolens’ and ‘Unton’, work well as solos,
but this cannot have been Dowland’s intention throughout, since the
Cantus – the tune – is partly or entirely missing from the lute part of the
high-pitched pieces.
However, a simple way of getting round that problem would be to add
the Cantus and Bassus parts to the lute, making a trio texture similar to
the five galliards for soprano and bass instruments with lute in Emanuel
Adriaenssen’s Novum pratum musicum (Antwerp, 1592; repr. 1977), or
some of the dances in Fabritio Caroso’s dance treatise Nobiltà di dame
(Venice, 1600; repr. 1970).
32
More relevant to Dowland is van den Hove’s
Praeludia testudinis, ad symphoniam duarum vocum duarumve violarum
accomodata (Leiden, 1616; repr. 1982),
33
and the sequence of eleven
pavans for violin, bass violin and lute in Le petit boucquet de frise orientale
([?Emden], 1631; repr. 1987) by the Frisian lutenist Louis de Moy. De
Moy’s pavans partly belong to the Anglo-German tradition, and one of
them alludes to ‘Lachrimae’. Of course, Dowland himself published
three songs in A Pilgrimes Solace, ‘Goe nightly cares’, ‘From silent night’
and ‘Lasso vita mia’, with accompaniments for lute and untexted Cantus
and Bassus parts.
The instruments
23
What, then, of the other possibility: that the lute could be omitted in
consort performances? It is true that the tablature is largely confined to
doubling the strings, except for the rhythmic patterns and ornamental
flourishes that fill in the final bars of sections. But that is to be expected.
The written-out lute parts in ensemble music of all types in the sixteenth
and early seventeenth centuries normally double the parts they accom-
pany. If they do not always double the top parts, as in the part-song ver-
sions of Dowland’s lute songs or the high-pitched pieces in Lachrimae,
then that may simply be because composers were unwilling to take the
lute too high rather than because they were unwilling to double the tune.
Everything we know about keyboard accompaniment at the time sug-
gests that organists normally doubled all the parts of polyphonic vocal
music or instrumental ensemble music, even in solo sonatas and trio
sonatas.
34
The notion that continuo players should avoid the melodic
lines they accompany seems to have developed at a much later period.
Nevertheless, there is nothing particularly sacrosanct about the lute
parts in Lachrimae. It is easy to imagine that Dowland and other profes-
sional lutenists at the time would have embellished them on the repeats
of the strains, producing something not unlike the lute parts of mixed
consorts, with their written-out divisions. Indeed, a manuscript mixed
consort lute part for ‘Essex’ can be used more or less as it stands with the
Lachrimae setting.
35
Furthermore, a lutenist playing a normal ‘mean’
lute in G with a violin consort transposing the low-pitched pieces up a
fourth would have had to devise his own lute part, though the tablature
could have been played as it stood on a small ‘treble’ lute a fourth higher –
the sort of instrument Ian Harwood has argued was used in the mixed
consort repertory.
36
Similarly, a bass lute in D could theoretically have
been used in performances with a low-pitched viol consort a fourth
lower, though the large size of the instrument would have made the
stretches difficult.
The instrumentation of Lachrimae is best understood as a small but
significant step in the sequence of changes that was to transform the
Anglo-German repertory in little more than a decade from what we
think of as a late Renaissance idiom to an early Baroque one. Dowland
took the first three steps by restricting the choice of instrument to
strings, by adding an accompaniment to the full-voiced five-part texture,
and by introducing an element of dialogue in one piece by turning the
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
24
Quintus into a second soprano. It was left to others such as Thomas
Simpson and Samuel Scheidt to replace the lute tablature with a single-
line continuo part, to increase the polarisation of the texture by reducing
the number of inner parts, and to begin to write specifically and idiomat-
ically for violins.
The instruments
25
3
The dance types
The main courtly dances of the fifteenth century, collectively called basse
danse or bassadanza, were typically accompanied by the alta capella, a
loud wind ensemble in which stereotyped counterpoint was improvised
around a slow-moving cantus firmus played by the tenor shawm or
bombard. Since the length of each cantus firmus varied, each basse danse
had its own choreography. The new dances that replaced it shortly after
1500 were much simpler. They had standard choreographies matched by
simple tunes made up of short repeated sections in patterns such as
AABB or AABBCC. The music, now increasingly intended for the new
string consorts rather than the old loud wind ensembles, was usually in
four, five or six parts using simple block chords, and had to be set down
on paper, for the inner parts no longer had readily defined or discrete
functions, and could not easily have been improvised without creating
glaring consecutives. But dance music continued to be played from
memory: pictures show groups performing without music for at least
another century.
The pavan
The most important dances in the new repertory were those that make
up most of Lachrimae, the pavan and the galliard. The pavana or padoana
(the name suggests a connection with Padua or an allusion to the dig-
nified display of the peacock by way of the Spanish pavón) is first found
in Italian musical sources in the first decade of the sixteenth century, and
spread rapidly to northern Europe. It seems to have arrived in England in
the 1520s, for when the emperor Charles V danced ‘la pabana’ with some
of his courtiers at Windsor on 15 June 1522 during his second visit to
England, Henry VIII sat it out because, John Ward has suggested, he was
26
unfamiliar with it. Yet it had joined the list of current dances by the time
Sir Thomas Elyot published The Boke Named the Governour in 1531.
1
Like the basse danse, the pavan was a stately processional dance.
According to Thoinot Arbeau’s Orchésographie (Langres, 1588), our
main source of information for the sixteenth century, ‘kings, princes and
great lords’ used it ‘to display themselves on some day of solemn festival
with their fine mantles and robes of ceremony; and then the queens and
the princesses and the great ladies accompany them with the long trains
of their dresses let down and trailing behind them, or sometimes carried
by damsels’.
2
Arbeau’s simple open-ended choreography, a stylised
walk, allowed the pavan to be danced to any multiple of four semibreves,
or even to triple-time music with a dotted minim rather than a minim
beat. Thomas Morley wrote in A Plaine and Easie Introduction to Practi-
call Musicke (1597; repr. 1937) that the pavan was ‘a kind of staid music
ordained for grave dancing and most commonly made of three strains,
whereof every strain is played or sung twice; a strain they make to
contain eight, twelve, or sixteen semibreves as they list, yet fewer than
eight I have not seen in any Pavan’. He added that dancers could cope
with any length of strain so long as it consisted of an even number of
bars: ‘you must cast your music by four [semibreves], so that if you keep
that rule it is no matter how many fours you put in your strain, for it will
fall out well enough in the end’.
3
The galliard
The galliard was a lively hopping and kicking dance using the cinque pas,
a pattern of five steps danced to six minims of music. Arbeau wrote that it
is called gaillarde ‘because one must be blithe and lively to dance it’; it
could be danced by one couple or several, or alternatively by a single man
as a solo. To judge from the musical sources, the dance developed several
decades later than the pavan, perhaps because, in Italy at least, the pavan
was at first paired with the saltarello. Many early galliards were derived
from pavans by translating the duple-time music into triple time, which
meant that they tended to have the same structure as their parent pavans.
Morley wrote that it was ‘a lighter and more stirring kind of dancing than
the Pavan, consisting of the same number of strains; and look how many
fours of semibreves you put in the strain of your Pavan so many times six
The dance types
27
minims must you put in the strain of your Galliard’. In fact, by the time
Morley wrote those words English composers had largely stopped deriv-
ing galliards from pavans, and were writing them in all shapes and sizes.
A fairly constant feature, however, was an attractive rhythmic instability
created by regrouping the six minims from the normal 3ϩ3 to the
2ϩ2ϩ2 hemiola pattern, and by grouping crotchets 3ϩ3 instead of
2ϩ2ϩ2, so that three distinct triple patterns can sometimes be heard, at
the levels of crotchets, minims and semibreves.
The almand
The third type of dance in Lachrimae, the almand, alman or almain (alle-
mande in French), seems to have originated in Germany, possibly in
Nuremberg around 1540, hence its name.
4
As Morley put it, it is ‘a more
heavy dance then this [the galliard] (fitly representing the nature of the
people whose name it carrieth) so that no extraordinary motions are used
in dancing of it’. According to Arbeau, it was danced by a line of couples,
like the pavan, and the basic pattern consisted of three steps and a hop.
Morley wrote that ‘It is made of strains, sometimes two, sometimes three,
and every strain is made by [groups of] four [semibreves]’, adding that the
strains of ‘the usual Alman containeth the time of eight [semibreves], and
most commonly in short notes’; the basic pulse is usually in crotchets
rather than minims. Elizabethan almands tend to be jolly four-square
pieces, with catchy tunes supported by simple diatonic harmonies.
Composition, arrangement and performance
There were two main ways of writing sixteenth-century dance music. In
Italy and Germany the principle of weaving florid parts against a cantus
firmus did not entirely disappear with the basse danse and the alta
capella. The tune is still in the tenor in the few surviving consort exam-
ples of the Hoftanz (a late German type of basse danse), as well as a
number of early sixteenth-century Italian dances now in Munich.
5
The
cantus firmus tradition also continued in a new form in the many Italian
dances based on standard chord sequences and the bass patterns asso-
ciated with them, such as the Passamezzo antico, the Passamezzo
moderno and the Romanesca. In France and The Netherlands, by con-
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
28
trast, dances were usually settings of a tune in the top part, often derived
from a polyphonic chanson.
In practice, the distinction between the two types is not always clear
cut. Standard descants were often associated with the bass patterns; an
obvious example from Tudor England is the tune ‘Greensleeves’, a
descant to a combination of the Passamezzo antico and the Romanesca.
6
Similarly, dances with a tune in the top part often have an associated bass
line, the standard way of harmonising the tune; a good example is
Arbeau’s pavan ‘Belle qui tiens ma vie’ and the dances related to it, such
as the ‘Allemande du Prince’ and ‘La Coranto’, best known from Byrd’s
keyboard setting and a piece in Morley’s Consort Lessons.
7
The two types
became less distinct in the late sixteenth century, when original composi-
tions by mainstream composers supplanted the older repertory of
dances based on popular tunes and chord sequences. The various set-
tings for consort and solo instruments of popular English pavans, such as
‘Lachrimae’ or the one by Peter Philips dated 1580 in the Fitzwilliam
Virginal Book, usually have a common ‘gist’ consisting of the tune, the
bass, the implied harmonies in between, and any particularly striking
contrapuntal or decorative features in the inner parts.
8
Renaissance dance music divides into two main types: the consort set-
tings in four, five and six parts, and the versions for solo instruments such
as the keyboard, the lute and the cittern. The consort settings were pre-
sumably composed and arranged mostly for the professional groups that
accompanied dancing, though some survive in prints or manuscripts pub-
lished or copied partly with amateurs in mind. Dance musicians usually
performed from memory, which is presumably why most of the manu-
scripts they owned or used have disappeared; a rare exception is the collec-
tion of consort dances in the Arundel or Lumley part-books, apparently
copied by dance musicians in England around 1560.
9
Since most six-
teenth-century amateurs came to music by way of solo instruments such as
the lute or the virginals, it is not surprising that much more sixteenth-
century dance music survives in solo settings than in consort versions.
One of the main differences between the two repertories is that dances
set for solo instruments were usually provided with written-out orna-
mentation, while most of the consort settings are plain. There are three
reasons for this. Plucked instruments need ornamentation to prolong the
sound, and the nature of tablature, which tells the player where to put his
The dance types
29
fingers rather than what notes to play, makes it difficult for the less
experienced player to improvise ornamentation. Also, professionals had
no need for written-out ornamentation, for much of their training con-
sisted of learning how to improvise florid ornamentation.
10
Thus the
difference between the two types is greater on the page than it would
have been in performance. Some sources with tablature parts, such as the
collection of lute trios by Giovanni Pacolini or Pacoloni published in
1564, or Matthew Holmes’s mixed consort books in GB-Cu, have elab-
orate written-out divisions that give a vivid impression of how profes-
sional groups would have elaborated dance music in performance.
11
The Elizabethan dance repertory
The few English dances that survive from before Elizabeth’s reign
suggest that the repertory was largely imported: three of the six consort
dances preserved in keyboard reduction in the mid-century GB-Lbl,
Royal Appendix MS 58 are related to pieces in contemporary continen-
tal publications.
12
However, the dances in the Arundel part-books show
that a distinctively English repertory was beginning to emerge around
1560. One feature is the emphasis on five-part writing: the compilers
apparently made an effort to collect five-part dances, and to convert
existing four-part pieces into five by adding a specially written Quintus
part. So far as we can tell from the rather scattered and fragmentary
sources, five-part writing remained the norm for dance music through-
out Elizabeth’s reign. By contrast, four-part writing remained the stan-
dard in Italy and much of northern Europe until the late sixteenth
century, and in Germany a sizeable body of five-part dance music only
developed around 1600 as English expatriates such as William Brade and
Thomas Simpson disseminated their native idiom.
The most distinctive feature of Elizabethan dance music is the promi-
nence given to pavans or pavan-galliard pairs. Nearly a third of the fifty-
odd dances in the Arundel part-books are pavans, a much higher
proportion than in equivalent continental collections. Of the three books
of danseries published by Jean d’Estrée in Paris in 1559, for instance, two
consist entirely of branles while the third contains only four pavans in a
varied selection of forty-five dances, including branles, allemandes, gal-
liards and basse danses.
13
If anything, the proportion of pavans increases
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
30
in later Elizabethan collections. The sequence of twenty-five five-part
dances by Peter Philips and others in one of the score-books supposedly
copied by Francis Tregian (1574–1619), includes six pavan-galliard
pairs and four separate pavans.
14
Holborne’s Pavans, Galliards, Almains
consists of twenty-seven pavan-galliard pairs, six almands and five
corants. The fifty-three pavans in D-Kl, 4° MS mus. 125, 1–5, were
drawn partly or possibly exclusively from the English repertory (see
Chapter 2).
The fashion for pairing pavans and galliards declined in late Elizabe-
than England. Although there are some notable exceptions, such as the
paired keyboard pavans and galliards by Byrd in My Ladye Nevells
Booke of 1591 or those in Rosseter’s Lessons for Consort,
15
English com-
posers around 1600 increasingly preferred to write separate pavans and
galliards. Even when they were paired in collections, as in Pavans, Galli-
ards, Almains, they were often not thematically related, and Lachrimae is
remarkable for its lack of pairs, as we shall see. Many of the most influen-
tial English works, such as Philips’s 1580 Pavan and ‘Lachrimae’, were
apparently written as singletons, though galliards were sometimes pro-
vided for them by others, particularly by composers working in the
Anglo-German repertory.
16
Little need be said about the Elizabethan almand, except to note that
the dance seems to have gone through a period of neglect in the 1580s
and 90s, only to enjoy a revival soon after 1600, perhaps because of the
sudden popularity of the almand-like dances written for Jacobean
masques. The change was quite sudden: of two comparable sequences of
consort dance music in manuscripts apparently compiled by court wind
players, one, US-NH, Filmer MS 2 (c. 1600), includes only two almands
with six pavans and thirteen galliards, while the Jacobean layer of GB-
Cfm, Mus. MS 734 (c. 1615), includes a single pavan in a sequence of
twenty-three almands, including several written for masques.
17
By con-
trast, pavans and galliards continued to dominate the Anglo-German
repertory for several decades.
The late Elizabethan pavan
The pavan came to dominate the Elizabethan dance repertory at a time
when it was in decline in some parts of Europe; if the Italian dance
The dance types
31
manuals are anything to go by, it was more or less obsolete there by
1600.
18
But this does not necessarily mean that the English continued to
dance the pavan long after other nations, for there are signs even in the
Arundel part-books that it had begun to make the transition from func-
tional dance to abstract musical genre. Since Morley advised composers
to keep to strains of even numbers of breves so that their pavans could be
danced to, the presence of a strain of five breves in a pavan in the Arundel
part-books suggests it was not written for dancing. The pavan’s galliard
is ascribed to ‘Innocents’ – presumably the Innocent of Cremona who
joined the English court violin consort in 1550.
19
Pavans with strains of uneven numbers of breves become much more
common in later Elizabethan sources. There is one with a five-breve
strain in the Dublin Virginal Book (c. 1570), and a beautiful one by
Joseph Lupo based on Lassus’s chanson ‘Susanne un jour’ with a second
strain of eight-and-a-half breves; it was probably written soon after
1570, when the chanson was published in London.
20
By the end of the
century irregular strains had become almost routine: nine of the twenty-
seven pavans in Holborne’s Pavans, Galliards, Almains have them, as do
twenty-six of the fifty-three pavans in Kassel MS 125; only three of the
ten pavans in Lachrimae have regular strains. The most extreme type of
irregularity encountered in pavans is when the last strain turns wholly or
partially into triple time. Morley’s ‘Sacred End Pavan’ (so called because
it ends with an idea used in several anthems, see Chapter 4) is the best-
known example.
21
It has a brief triple-time section in the last strain, and
was probably the model for a number of pavans with triple-time passages
in the Anglo-German repertory.
Most English pavans written around 1600 seem about as far removed
from the dance floor as the examples by Fauré and Ravel, and this not just
because of their irregular strains. As early as the Arundel part-books
there are a few pieces – such as a group of three canonic pavans and one
scored for five bass instruments
22
– that seem designed to be listened to
rather than danced to, and the genre increased steadily in complexity and
musical interest during Elizabeth’s reign. Early Elizabethan pavans
sometimes have strains of four breves, or eight-breve strains divided into
two four-breve phrases with matching openings leading to contrasted
cadences, as in the first strain of a keyboard pavan by ‘Mr Marchant’.
23
A
slightly more sophisticated variant of this pattern is the eight-breve
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
32
strain that divides into two four-breve contrasted phrases, as in the first
strain of a pavan by Augustine Bassano copied by Francis Tregian.
24
Later composers such as Philips or Holborne had no trouble writing
continuous strains of eight or more breves, though some of the simpler
(and earlier?) ones in Pavans, Galliards, Almains still cadence on the first
beat of the fourth or fifth breve of an eight-breve strain while maintain-
ing melodic or contrapuntal momentum; good examples are the first
strain of no. 3, the second of no. 7, the first of no. 15, all three of no. 37,
the third of no. 47, and the first and third of no. 51, ‘Posthuma’. Dowland
used the device in all three strains of ‘Lachrimae’.
In the 1580s and 90s English pavans became increasingly complex and
contrapuntal, and composers began to develop special effects or ‘topics’
in their third strains. Sometimes ideas were borrowed from other genres,
as in Morley’s ‘Sacred End Pavan’, but more often the models were other
pavans, so that a web of subtle connections developed. One of the most
influential pieces was Peter Philips’s 1580 Pavan, which has an appar-
ently invented plainsong-like cantus firmus in the Cantus accompanied
by patterns of three repeated notes. Philips probably got the idea from
Nicholas Strogers’s fine ‘In Nomine Pavan’, so called because its third
strain borrows a three-note accompaniment pattern (but not, oddly, the
cantus firmus) from a popular In Nomine by Robert Parsons.
25
In turn,
Philips’s 1580 Pavan influenced many later works, such as ‘Southerne’s
Pavan’ by Morley, Holborne’s ‘Decrevi’, Pavans, Galliards, Almains, no.
35, and a number of pieces in the Anglo-German repertory, including
four in D-Kl, 4° MS mus. 125, 1–5.
26
Peter Philips also seems to have
started a fashion for chromatic passages with his ‘Dolorosa Pavan’ of
1593, though a popular piece by Thomas Tomkins proved even more
influential.
27
‘Lachrimae’ was at the centre of this tradition, and we shall
see in Chapter 4 how Dowland developed it to an unprecedented degree
in the ‘passionate pavans’.
Tonality
There has been a recent tendency to try to explain the tonality of all types
of Renaissance music in terms of modal theory, but it is not clear that the
composers of Elizabethan dance music thought in those terms. Morley
explained the modes in some detail in the annotations to the third part of
The dance types
33
A Plaine and Easie Introduction, but gave the impression in the main text
that they were obsolete, describing the ‘Eight Tunes’ or psalm tones used
by ‘the churchmen for keeping their keys’ merely as ‘some shadow of the
ancient “modi” whereof Boethius and Glareanus have written so
much’.
28
Similarly, Thomas Campion paid lip-service to the modes in
the section on ‘the Tones of Musicke’ in his New Way of Making Fowre
Parts in Counter-point (?1613–14), though he stated that ‘the Key, or
Moode, or Tone . . . all signifie the same thing’.
29
A ‘Table of Tones’, set down around 1620 in a manuscript of John
Bull’s keyboard music in Vienna, shows that the twelve church modes as
codified by Glareanus in his Dodecachordon (Basle, 1547) had been
reduced to eight.
30
The first four are effectively minor keys, D minor (1),
G minor (2), A minor (3) and E minor (4), while the others are major
keys, C major (5), F major (6), D major (7) and G major (8). The system
of authentic and plagal modes has been abandoned, and Tones 2 and 6
have a B flat key signature. Elizabethan dance music inhabits the same
tonal landscape, though had the list been compiled in England it might
have included C minor and B flat major rather than E minor and D major,
which only became common in English consort music in the 1620s and
30s. Composers increasingly exploited the full range of stringed instru-
ments, stepping outside the ambitus or range of the mode, and the tone is
defined as much by the accidentals used as by the ‘final’ or concluding
note. Tone 1 (D minor) normally ranges between B flat and G sharp,
Tone 2 (G minor) between E flat and C sharp, Tone 3 (A minor) between
B flat and G sharp, and so on.
Morley was at a loss when he tried to explain modulation, a concept
foreign to the modal system. His Philomathes asks whether there is a
‘general rule to be given for an instruction for keeping of the key’, but the
Master replies ‘No, for it must proceed only of the judgement of the com-
poser’, and Morley could only use the terminology of the hexachord
system to discuss modulation: ‘though the air of every key be different
one from the other yet some love (by a wonder of nature) to be joined to
others, so that if you begin your song in Gam ut you may conclude it
either in C fa ut or D sol re and from thence come again to Gam ut; like-
wise if you begin your song in D sol re you may end in A re and come again
to D sol re, etc.’ Campion was much more specific, and described possible
modulations to (in modern terms) the dominant and the relative major of
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
34
G minor and A minor, Tones 1 and 3. In Tone 8, G major (which of
course has no relative major), Campion suggests closes in A minor, the
supertonic, or C major, the subdominant. Charles Butler recognised the
dominant and the relative major as ‘Secundari Cadences’, but thought
those on the second, sixth and seventh degrees of the scale ‘Improper
Cadences’, ‘strange and informal to the Air’ and ‘sparingly to bee used’.
31
It is striking that the harmonic idiom of English dance music did not
become noticeably more modern during Elizabeth’s reign; the modern
traits are present in the pavans of the early Elizabethan Arundel part-
books just as strongly as those by Holborne and Dowland. I believe this is
because of the influence of Italian chord sequences such as the Passa-
mezzo antico (usually I–VII–I–V / I–VII–I–V–I in Tone 2), the Passa-
mezzo moderno (usually I–IV–I–V / I–IV–I–V–I in Tone 8), the
Romanesca (usually III–VII–I–V / III–VII–I–V–I in Tone 2), and the
Bergamasca (usually I–IV–V–I in Tone 5), which showed mid-century
English composers how to organise their dance music using patterns of
logical progressions punctuated by regular cadences.
Most English settings of Italian chord sequences are in the lute and
keyboard repertories, where composers could draw on established
idioms of written-out variations to elaborate them at some length. But
their influence can also be heard in many early consort pavans. A five-
part piece in the Arundel part-books
32
is a mixture of Passamezzo antico
and Romanesca patterns, while the pavan by ‘Master Tayler’ in the
Dublin Virginal Book begins as an elaboration of the Bergamasca and
hardly departs from the ‘three-chord trick’. Not surprisingly, the influ-
ence of Italian chord sequences became diluted later, though they still
seem to govern the outline progressions of many more harmonically
complex pavans. Taking the chords that begin and end strains, five Tone
2 pavans by Holborne in Pavans, Galliards, Almains, nos. 1, 23, 25, 31 and
33 outline I–I / V–V / III–I, while the two-strain Tone 8 pavan no. 3 out-
lines I–I / VII–I, a pattern developed in no. 41 as I–I / VII–V / I–I.
Similar things can be found in Lachrimae: ‘Gementes’ outlines I–I /
VII–V / V–I, ‘Unton’ outlines I–I / V–V / III–I , while the pattern used
in ‘Tristes’, Coactae’ and ‘Amantis’, I–I / II–V / V–I, recalls the ‘strange
and informal’ modulations to the supertonic advocated by Campion.
Striking juxtapositions such as I–VII and V–III in these English pavans
surely owe more to Italian chord sequences than to modal thinking.
The dance types
35
4
The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’
The seven pavans that begin Lachrimae are among the best-known and
best-loved pieces of instrumental music written before the eighteenth
century. Their serene beauty speaks for itself, yet they also raise many
questions. Why are there seven of them? How are they related? Do they
contain ideas borrowed from other composers? Were they intended to be
performed as a cycle? What is the significance of the Latin titles? Do they
have any bearing on their musical character? How does the cycle exem-
plify the Elizabethan cult of melancholy?
‘Lachrimae Antiquae’
Any attempt to answer these questions must begin with ‘Antiquae’, the
‘Old Tears’. As its title indicates, it was not new when Lachrimae
appeared. It was perhaps the single most popular and widely distributed
instrumental piece of the period: it occurs in about a hundred manu-
scripts and prints from England, Scotland, The Netherlands, France,
Germany, Austria, Denmark, Sweden and Italy, in settings for lute solo,
lute duet, lute trio with two viols, cittern, bandora, recorder, violin, divi-
sion viol, lyra viol, keyboard, mixed consort, and four- and five-part viols
or violins, as well as a number of song versions.
1
The sources suggest that the earliest ‘Lachrimae’ was for solo lute. Of
the eighteen copies in English lute books, one was printed by William
Barley in his New Booke of Tabliture (1596), and a number of others come
from manuscripts that apparently date from before 1604. One of the ear-
liest was copied by Matthew Holmes into GB-Cu, Dd. 2.11, f. 81, in the
early 1590s, and was originally intended for a six-course lute – which
suggests it is a relatively early work.
2
By contrast, the earliest source of
the famous lute-song setting, ‘Flow my teares’, seems to be The Second
36
Booke of Songs or Ayres, published in 1600. The song is almost certainly
an adaptation of the pavan rather than the other way round, for Dowland
headed it ‘Lacrime’ as if it was a version of a well-known piece, and the
poem has no metrical regularity: it shows signs of having been written to
fit the tune.
3
Dowland seems to have arranged a number of his songs
from instrumental dances (see Chapter 5), and in general the type of lute
song he popularised had its roots in the English broadside ballad, and
had connections with the Italian villanella and the French voix de ville –
genres that involved adding words to existing popular tunes.
The settings of ‘Lachrimae’ divide by key into three groups, G minor,
A minor and D minor. Diana Poulton argued that G minor was
Dowland’s original choice, since it is the key of the copy in Dd.2.11, f. 81,
and most of those in lute sources, and it is a good key for the lute. She
suggested that A minor, a less idiomatic lute key, was subsequently
chosen for the benefit of the singers in ‘Flow my teares’ and the stringed
instruments in ‘Antiquae’.
4
But the situation is not that simple. Matthew
Holmes copied a fine but little-known A minor setting into Dd.2.11, ff.
75
v
–77, a few pages earlier than the G minor one, while there is another
Aminor version without divisions in GB-Lbl, MS Hirsch M.1353, f. 11
v
(c. 1595). Moreover, I have argued that the five-part A minor setting in
Kassel 4°MS mus. 125, 1–5, no. 42, is a pre-publication version of ‘Anti-
quae’, a souvenir of one of Dowland’s visits to the town in the 1590s.
5
To
complicate things further, the earliest datable continental lute setting,
‘Pavana a 5 voc. Dulandi Angli’, no. 91 in Flores musicae ii (Heidelberg,
1600) by the Leipzig lutenist Johann Rude, is in G minor, and its title
could be taken to mean that it is an arrangement from a five-part consort
setting in that key.
All this goes to show that we are wrong to look for a ‘definitive’ or ‘origi-
nal’ version of ‘Lachrimae’, as we might do for a piece by Bach or Chopin.
Dowland and his contemporaries would have played their own pieces in a
semi-improvised manner from a memorised ‘gist’, much as jazz musicians
do today. Each time they wrote them down they doubtless would have felt
free to vary the details, to suit particular circumstances, intended recip-
ients, or just changing fashion. This explains why popular pieces often cir-
culated in a number of variant versions, and it also suggests that ‘Antiquae’
is an independent working from the common ‘Lachrimae’ gist rather than
an arrangement dependent on some ‘original’ lute setting.
The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’
37
What, then, is the gist of ‘Lachrimae’? The Tone 3 pavan consists of
three strains of eight, eight and eight-and-a-half breves, divided inter-
nally by cadences at bb. 5, 12 and 20, outlining the conventional har-
monic pattern I–I–I / III–IV–V / V–V–I. What was new about the
piece, and what probably ensured its popularity, was the concise richness
of its melodic and motivic writing. Earlier composers tended to make do
with one or two distinctive ideas per strain, padding them out with rather
featureless and uncoordinated free contrapuntal writing. By contrast, in
‘Lachrimae’ the listener is immediately struck by the number of mean-
ingful ideas, and gradually becomes aware that they are tightly and eco-
nomically controlled; most of them are related, and there is little
padding, even in the inner parts of ‘Antiquae’. That is why an unusual
amount of detail from the inner parts was preserved in the gist transmit-
ted in later arrangements, such as the keyboard settings by Sweelinck
and his followers.
In fact, an extraordinary amount of the material of ‘Antiquae’ (from
now on my analysis refers specifically to the five-part setting in Lachri-
mae) derives in some way from the famous four-note motif aЈ–gЈ–fЈ–eЈ
that begins the Cantus, a musical emblem of falling tears. This tear
motif, as I shall call it, is answered by another, cЉ–bЈ–aЈ–g
¡
Ј, a third
higher. As Lionel Pike has pointed out, there are falling or rising
fourths outlined in every bar of the Cantus except 12–14, and they also
occur regularly in the Bassus, particularly in the first and third strains.
6
Thirds are also constantly used, either rising, as in the brief contrapun-
tal passage in b. 3 or the declamatory passage in bb. 12–14, or falling, as
in the sequential sighing motif in b. 5 of the Cantus, echoed in such
places as bb. 5–6 of the bass, b. 10 of the Quintus, or the contrapuntal
idea in bb. 11–12. Furthermore, the fourths and the thirds are cun-
ningly related by the plaintive minor sixth that links the two tetra-
chords at the beginning of the Cantus. The ear also notices that it is
reflected in the simultaneous minor sixths in the Quintus and the
Bassus, and that the Bassus also outlines the descending tetrachord,
allowing for an octave transposition and the omission of the second
note, G. Two other significant details need to be mentioned at this
stage: the figure (a) that rises by step at different speeds at the opening
of the Altus and Tenor, and the falling fifth in quavers (b) in the middle
of b. 3 of the Altus (see Ex. 4.1).
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
38
The tetrachord also colours the tonality of ‘Lachrimae’. The pavan is
formally in Tone 3, equivalent to A minor, but one can also hear the infl-
uence of Tone 4, effectively the phrygian mode on E, making it similar to
the hypoaeolian tenth mode as described by Glareanus and Zarlino.
7
The
tone–tone–semitone pattern of the falling tetrachord was exploited in
the Renaissance for its affective power; indeed, the phrygian mode is
made up of two such tetrachords, E–D–C–B and A–G–F–E. When
A–G–F–E occurs in the Bassus, as it does repeatedly in the first and third
strains, it makes the characteristic phrygian cadence of the Baroque
period. As often happens in English pavans, the tonality changes
abruptly at the beginning of the second strain: the music starts in C
major and touches D minor before settling again on to a phrygian
cadence on E. The phrygian colour returns in the third strain: it starts
with two bars of dominant pedal on E, returns to an E major chord in b.
20, and is then taken up with a contrapuntal point that features the
expressive four-note figure E–B–C–B. Note also how Dowland achieves
The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’
39
Ex. 4.1 ‘Antiquae’, bb. 1–8 (lute part omitted)
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a sense of climax by pushing the top note of the Cantus up a step in each
strain, from cЉ, to dЉ, and finally to eЉ.
The tear motif
Several writers have claimed to find models for the tear motif. Otto Mies
and Diana Poulton respectively suggested Créquillon’s chanson ‘Cessez
mes yeulx’ and Cauleray’s ‘En esperant’.
8
But the semitone falls in the
wrong place in the former, and occurs unobtrusively in the middle of a
phrase of the latter. More promisingly, Rudolf Henning suggested
Rore’s madrigal ‘Quando lieto sperai’, which sets a slightly elaborated
tetrachord to the words ‘lagrime dunque’.
9
John Ward questioned the
need to search for a model, but offered the opening of ‘Smith’s Pavan’
(actually ‘pavana Bryches’), a single-line division part in the Arundel
part-books, as well as the observation that ‘the tones a g f e also form the
basis of most Romanesca discants’.
10
The problem with this line of enquiry is that, by itself, the falling tetra-
chord is a commonplace, a standard emblem of grief. Lionel Pike has
drawn attention to its occurrences in madrigals by Giovanni Gabrieli,
Marenzio, Wert, Monteverdi and others, as well as Josquin’s ‘Mille
regrets’ and Victoria’s 1572 setting of ‘O vos omnes’, and it is familiar as
the standard form of the Passacaglia ground bass, which became asso-
ciated with laments in the 1620s and 30s.
11
Its chromatic form was also
developed as a grief emblem in ascending as well as descending forms,
notably in Dowland’s ‘Forlorn Hope’ and ‘Farewell’ fantasias.
12
Clearly, to establish a credible connection between ‘Lachrimae’ and
earlier compositions we need more than four notes in common. In fact,
there are two works probably known to Dowland that use the complete
tear motif – the two tetrachords connected by the minor sixth. David
Pinto has drawn attention to Lassus’s setting of the words ‘Laboravi in
gemitu meo’ in ‘Domine ne in furore tuo’, the first of his Psalmi Davidis
poenitentiales (Munich, 1584) (see Ex. 4.2).
13
Like ‘Lachrimae’, the
passage is in Tone 3 with phrygian leanings, and sets a highly relevant
text: ‘I am weary with my groaning; all the night long I make my bed to
swim; I water my couch with tears’. There is no direct evidence that
Dowland knew Lassus’s cycle, though there is another connection
between ‘Lachrimae’ and the Seven Penitential Psalms, as we shall see.
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
40
Dowland would certainly have known the other work, ‘Parto da voi,
mio sole’ from Marenzio’s third book of six-part madrigals (Venice,
1585), for it was reprinted as ‘Now I must part’ in Musica transalpina
(1588), and it has been suggested that the original Italian text was the
inspiration for the text of Dowland’s song ‘Now, O now I needs must
part’ from The First Booke.
14
We should not be surprised that Dowland
looked to Marenzio for inspiration. He travelled to Italy in 1595 to study
with the Italian and extolled his virtues in The First Booke, even printing
a rather inconsequential letter from him, ‘not thinking it any disgrace to
be proud of the judgement of so excellent a man’. Furthermore, he based
part of his song ‘Would my conceit that first enforced my woe’ from The
First Booke on Marenzio’s ‘Ahi, dispietata morte’.
15
‘Parto da voi, mio sole’, also in Tone 3, contains the complete tear
motif using the same pitches and virtually the same rhythms, though it is
in the Altus rather than the Cantus, and the last note is a G natural rather
than G sharp. What makes the passage more significant is that the tear
motif is accompanied by rising figures in the Cantus and the Sextus
similar to (a) at the beginning of Dowland’s Altus and Tenor (see Ex.
4.3). Another madrigal by Marenzio, the five-part ‘Rivi, fontane, e fiumi’
from the anthology Le gioie musicali (Venice, 1589), also begins with a
rising idea similar to (a) accompanying a version of the tear motif in
paired imitation that is strikingly similar to the opening of ‘Verae’.
16
Dowland used this contrapuntal version of the motif in the third strain
The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’
41
Ex. 4.2 O. Lassus, ‘Laboravi in gemitu meo’, bb. 1–4, from ‘Domine ne in
furore tuo’
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of ‘Tristes’ and the opening of ‘Amantis’. Note also the falling quavers in
the Tenor, b. 2, similar to (b) in ‘Antiquae’ (see Ex. 4.4). Of course, we
have no means of knowing how conscious any of these borrowings were,
though at the very least they suggest that Dowland was immersed in the
music of his great continental contemporaries.
Musical rhetoric
Why was Dowland attracted to Marenzio? At first sight it is strange that a
famous lutenist at the height of his powers should want to travel to Italy
to study with a madrigal composer – a genre to which he never contrib-
uted, so far as we know. Dowland was doubtless caught up by the enthu-
siasm for the Italian madrigal in Elizabethan England. Marenzio, the
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
42
Ex. 4.3 L. Marenzio, ‘Parto da voi, mio sole’, bb. 1–3
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most famous madrigalist of his generation, was particularly venerated in
England. He dominated the printed anthologies – Thomas Watson’s
Italian Madrigals Englished (1590) consists almost entirely of his works –
and was praised by Morley and Henry Peacham, Dowland’s friend and
neighbour.
17
Peacham wrote in The Compleat Gentleman (1622; repr.
1968) that Marenzio was ‘a little and blacke man’ who excelled everyone
‘for delicious Aire and sweet Invention in Madrigals’; he listed works
‘the Muses themselves might not have been ashamed to have had com-
posed’.
But Marenzio’s madrigals also exemplified techniques that could be
applied to other genres. We are familiar with the techniques of literal
word-painting associated with the madrigal. As Morley put it, ‘you must
have a care that when your matter signifieth “ascending”, “high”,
“heaven”, and such like you make your music ascend; and by the con-
trary where your ditty speaketh of “descending”, “lowness”, “depth”,
“hell”, and others such, you must make your music descend’. He also
wrote about more subtle ways in which harmony can be made to express
emotion. One of his examples is virtually a description of ‘Lachrimae’:
‘when you would express a lamentable passion, then must you use
motions proceeding by half notes, flat thirds, and flat sixths, which of
their nature are sweet, specially being taken in the true tune and natural
air with discretion and judgement’.
18
Unfortunately, Morley ignored the most important element of the
Italian style: the use of rhetorical figures to create a musical language of
heightened and focused emotional intensity. As Robin Headlam Wells
has pointed out, in the absence of formal academies in England, the Eliz-
abethans looked to books on rhetoric to disseminate humanist ideas.
19
Several contemporary writers pointed out that the standard rhetorical
devices used to heighten emotion in literature had musical counterparts.
Francis Bacon wrote in Sylva sylvarum (1627) that ‘There be in Musick
certaine Figures, or Tropes; almost agreeing with the Figures of Rheto-
rike; And with the Affections of the Minde, and other Senses’. Henry
Peacham made the same point at greater length: ‘Yea in my opinion, no
Rhetorique more perswadeth, or hath greater power over the mind; nay,
hath not Musicke her figures, the same which Rhetorique? What is a
Revert [contrary motion] but her Antistrophe? her reports [imitation],
but sweete Anaphora’s? her counterchange of points, Antimetabole’s?
The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’
43
her passionate Aires, but Prosopopoeas? with infinite other of the same
nature’.
20
These rhetorical figures have recently been studied by writers con-
cerned with the performance of English lute songs.
21
While some apply
directly to speaking and (by extension) singing, others were formulated
for literary composition, and can in some cases be extended to musical
composition – and to music that does not depend on words. The second
and third strains of ‘Antiquae’ illustrate the point. As Peacham recog-
nised, imitative counterpoint was one of the most important rhetorical
devices available to the composer, since the technique of imitation
involved matching an appropriate musical figure to each phrase of a text,
and the constant repetition of figures was the musical equivalent of
anaphora, or the sententious figures of repetition in poetry. Counter-
point was all-pervasive in polyphonic vocal music, but tightly organised,
imitative, ‘rhetorical’ counterpoint was relatively rare in dance music
before Dowland, at least among lutenist composers.
The second strain of ‘Antiquae’ contains three imitative points, corre-
sponding to the phrases ‘since pittie is fled’ (c), ‘and teares, and sighes,
and groanes’ (d) and ‘my wearie dayes’ (e) in the third verse of ‘Flow my
teares’. But Dowland ensures the continuity necessary in a pavan partly
by extending (c) over the internal cadence on the first beat at b. 12, and
partly by relating the three ideas to each other: (c) is mostly concerned
with falling thirds, which are converted into rising thirds in (d) and deco-
rated in (e) (see Ex. 4.5). Such relationships are more common in instru-
mental music than vocal music because composers did not have to
produce appropriately contrasted material for each phrase of the text. As
Morley put it in his description of the fantasia: ‘in this may more art be
shown than in any other music because the composer is tied to nothing,
but that he may add, diminish, and alter at his pleasure’.
The basic rhetorical device exemplified by (d) is auxesis. Henry
Peacham senior (the father of Dowland’s friend) described it in The
Garden of Eloquence (1577) as ‘when we make our saying grow and increase
by an orderly placing of our words, making the latter word always exceede
the former, in force of signifycation’. Its musical equivalent, the repetition
of figures in an ascending sequence, is variously called gradatio, climax or
anabasis.
22
It was recognised that the intensification of emotion produced
by auxesis or gradatio was made more effective by preparing it with a
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
44
descent, in subject matter, style of delivery or musical pitch – illustrated
by (c). As John Hoskins wrote (1599), ‘[To] make the matter seeme the
higher advaunced, sometimes [the figure] descends the lower . . . it is an
ornament of speech, to begin att the lowest that you the better aspire to the
height of amplyficacion’.
23
The problem with (d) in ‘Flow my teares’ is
that it is set to words – ‘and teares, and sighes, and grones’ or ‘and feare,
and griefe, and paine’ – that seem to call for a falling, reflective figure
rather than a confident, rising figure and the increase of volume associated
with such figures. According to Michel Le Faucheur (1657), ‘’Tis mani-
fest that the Voyce must be rais’d accordingly by the same degrees of eleva-
tion to answer every step of the Figure, till it is at the utmost height of it’,
while Athanasius Kircher wrote (1650) that anabasis or ascensio ‘is a
musical passage through which we express exalted, rising, or elevated and
eminent thoughts’.
24
More evidence, perhaps, that ‘Lachrimae’ was origi-
nally an instrumental pavan.
The third strain of ‘Antiquae’ has two rhetorical ideas. One is
harmonic rather than melodic: the recurring g
¸
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false relations are
The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’
45
Ex. 4.5 ‘Antiquae’, bb. 9–16 (lute part omitted)
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examples of parrhesia, the use of pungent language to reprehend the
hearers for some fault, according to the anonymous author of Rhetorica
ad Herennium.
25
The other is the contrapuntal point (f ) that takes up its
second half, from b. 20. It is a good example of ecphonesis or exclamatio,
one of the ‘sharp figures’ that Henry Peacham senior thought suitable
for stirring up vehement emotions:
when through affection either of anger, sorrow, gladnesse, marveyling,
feare, or any such lyke, we breake out in voyce with an exclamation, &
outcry to expresse the passions of our minde, after this manner. O lamen-
table estate, O cursed misery, O wicked impudency, O joy imcomparable,
O rare and singuler bewty.
26
Dowland and his contemporaries usually set expletives of this sort to
figures that begin with a syncopated long note followed by shorter notes,
as (f ) does (see Ex. 4.6). Dowland set it to the phrase ‘Happie, happie
they that in hell’, which is not the best rhetorical match for the music,
since it draws attention to the word ‘happy’ to the detriment of the
meaning of the phrase as a whole. This is another hint that the words of
‘Flow my teares’ were added to ‘Lachrimae’; we shall see in a moment
that the figure (f ) is connected with sacred rather than secular words.
The nature of the cycle
We do not know when Dowland had the idea of creating seven pavans out
of ‘Antiquae’, though ‘Antiquae Novae’, ‘Gementes’, ‘Tristes’, ‘Coactae’,
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
46
Ex. 4.6 ‘Antiquae’, bb. 20–5 (lute part omitted)
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‘Amantis’ and ‘Verae’ may have been written especially for Lachrimae:
none of them exists in lute settings, and only ‘Antiquae Novae’ is found in
any other contemporary source – Thomas Simpson published his own
five-part arrangement in 1610.
27
It is not always appreciated today how
novel the concept of a sequence of seven related pavans was. Of course,
the technique of creating one dance out of another was fundamental to
Renaissance dance music: galliards were routinely modelled on pavans,
tordions on basse danses and so on, and soon after 1600 German composers
began to publish suite-like sequences of dances with some related move-
ments. But only Dowland thought of writing a variation cycle using a
single type of dance rather than a selection of the dances of the day, and he
was the first composer to use dance forms and variation techniques to
explore the elevated areas of feeling hitherto exclusively associated with
contrapuntal genres such as the motet or the fantasia.
Why seven pavans? The number seven was thought to be numerologi-
cally significant, and Lionel Pike has also suggested that Dowland chose
it partly because it combines four and three, the intervals that dominate
‘Lachrimae’.
28
But there are also obvious parallels with other seven-fold
cycles, such as the Seven Last Words of Jesus on the Cross, the Seven
Sorrows of Mary, the Seven Deadly Sins, and the Seven Penitential
Psalms. We have seen that Dowland may have found the tear motif in a
passage from Lassus’s setting of the Penitential Psalms, and he would
certainly have known William Hunnis’s Seven Sobs of a Sorrowfull Soule
for Sinne (1581), a collection of devotional verse including ‘those seven
Psalmes of the Princelie Prophet of David, commonlie called Pœniten-
tiall: framed into a forme of familiar praiers, and reduced into meeter’. It
was enduringly popular: ten reprints are known between 1583 and
1629.
29
There is an unexpected if tortuous connection between Hunnis’s
Seven Sobs of a Sorrowfull Soule for Sinne and ‘Lachrimae’. Two
anthems, Morley’s ‘O Jesu meeke’ and Thomas Weelkes’s ‘Give ear, O
Lord’, are settings of lines from a section of the book entitled ‘A Hand-
full of Honiesuckles’. The two anthems are also related to each other and
to Christopher Tye’s anthem ‘I lift my heart to thee’ (a setting of Psalm
25, v. 1) by the fact that they have essentially the same refrain, ‘Mercie,
good Lord, mercie’ or ‘have mercie now on mee’, set to passages of
counterpoint using the same figure (f ) that Dowland used in ‘Lachrimae’
The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’
47
(see Ex. 4.6).
30
This idea appears at the end of Morley’s ‘Sacred End’
pavan, hence its name, and is also the subject of Daniel Farrant’s ‘Four-
Note’ pavan, which in turn seems to be a pair with Alfonso Ferrabosco
II’s ‘Four-Note’ pavan, based on a different four-note figure.
31
Like
‘Lachrimae’, Ferrabosco’s pavan was used as a song, Ben Jonson’s
‘Hymn to God the Father’, ‘Hear me, O God’. Thus, while it is not clear
exactly what the significance of these relationships is, they certainly
suggest that the ‘Sacred End’ figure, as I shall call it, has some sort of
religious significance.
In this connection, it is interesting that Dowland gave his pavan the title
‘Lachrimae’, ‘tears’, and the cycle the subtitle ‘seaven teares’. In Elizabe-
than literature tears were normally expected from women, children and old
men, and were associated with moderate emotion. As Marjory E. Lange
puts it, ‘a person does not weep for minor sorrow; and in extraordinary
anguish, one is more apt to throw up, or void’.
32
But in some circumstances it
was acceptable for men to weep in a religious situation. Indeed, their tears
could be thought of as an emblem of their status as a penitent before God, as
John Donne put it: ‘Powre new seas in mine eyes, so that I might / Drowne
my world with my weeping earnestly, / Or wash it, if it must be drown’d no
more’.
33
There were biblical precedents: David wept for his son Absalom,
Peter wept over his betrayal of Jesus, and, of course, Jesus wept for
Lazarus.
34
There is no reason to think that ‘Lachrimae’ is specifically a por-
trait of female tears, so it is likely that the pavan had some religious signifi-
cance for Dowland, as the connections with the Penitential Psalms imply.
How can this help us understand the significance of the Latin titles?
They have baffled most scholars. Peter Warlock wrote that ‘it cannot be
said that they go very far in the direction of illustrating the different
adjectives bestowed on them’, while Ernst Meyer, Diana Poulton and
Warwick Edwards avoided any discussion of their meaning.
35
However,
in an article concerned with esoteric readings of Dowland’s songs,
Anthony Rooley wrote that they ‘can be seen as a Hermetic cycle
describing the fall and rise of the journeying soul’, and added: ‘Fortu-
nately his epigrammatic Latin titles provide the key to his intentions in
these pavans; without them we would have been left forever in the dark’.
But he did not enlighten his readers further, and his attempt to connect
Dowland and his music to occult Neoplatonist philosophy is controver-
sial, to say the least.
36
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
48
Recently, David Pinto has proposed an orthodox religious interpreta-
tion of the Latin titles, taking his cue fromthe connection between ‘Anti-
quae’ and the Lassus Penitential Psalm.
37
He suggests that the tears are
those of the penitent, starting with those caused by original sin (‘Anti-
quae’), andthe subsequent sins of fallenmankind(‘Antiquae Novae’). His
woes (‘Gementes’) and grief (‘Tristes’) force him into apostasy
(‘Coactae’). But his penitent soul wakes totheloveof God(‘Amantis’), and
is redeemed by divine compassion (‘Verae’). This is an attractive idea, not
least because it helps to explain the enigmatic oxymoronic title ‘Antiquae
Novae’, the ‘new old tears’. He suggests that it refers to St Augustine’s
famous phrase‘pulchritudotamantiquaet tamnova’ (‘OthouBeautyboth
soancient andsofresh’), a reference tothe ‘oldyet new’ beautyof God, the
implicationbeingthat the‘old-new’ tears represent therenewal of original
sin in every fallen mortal.
38
His proposal also has an interesting autobio-
graphical dimension: he implies that the penitent is Dowlandhimself, and
that ‘Coactae’ (literally ‘enforced tears’) is concerned with his moment of
apostasyfromhis Catholic faithinthe 1595letter toCecil.
But there are several problems with this exclusively religious inter-
pretation. One is that it presupposes Dowland was still a Catholic in
1603–4: Pinto suggests that he dedicated Lachrimae to Queen Anne as a
fellow Catholic sympathiser who could offer him protection. Dowland
certainly admitted to Cecil that he had flirted with Catholicism in his
youth: when he was in Paris around 1580 he ‘fell aquainted’ with some
English Catholics who ‘thrust many Idle toies into my hed of Relygion’,
and ‘being but yonge their faire wordes overecht me & I beleved w(i)t(h)
them’. But he must have subscribed to the Thirty-Nine Articles when he
received his B.Mus. degree at Christ Church, Oxford on 8 July 1588, and
there is no reason to doubt his unequivocal statement of allegiance later
in the letter to Cecil:
god he knoweth I never loved treason nor trechery nor never knew of any,
nor never heard any mass in englande, wh(i)ch I finde is great abuse of the
peple for on my soule I understande it not, wherefor I hav reformed my
self to lyve acording to her ma(jes)ties lawes as I was borne under her
highnes.
39
Furthermore, although Pinto makes a good case for a connection
between the Lassus Penitential Psalm and ‘Antiquae’, there do not seem
The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’
49
to be any connections between other motets in Lassus’s cycle and the rest
of the ‘Lachrimae’ pavans, nor does he offer any musical evidence for his
interpretation of the character of the seven pavans.
An alternative, complementary rather than contradictory in some
respects, draws on the types of melancholy described by Robert Burton
in his Anatomy of Melancholy (1621) and by other Elizabethan and Jacob-
ean writers.
40
A feature of the English literature on melancholy is its ten-
dency to classify it into a number of distinct types that can be thought of
either as phases in the malady that a single individual might suffer or as
‘characters’ exemplified by different types of individual, as they often
were in Jacobean drama. Burton claimed there were no fewer than
eighty-eight ‘degrees’ of melancholy, but the last five of the seven pavans
do seem to represent some of the most important types. I believe that
these states are reflected to some extent in the character of the pavans.
Melancholy
Melancholy was the fashionable malady of the late Elizabethan age.
Burton and his contemporaries diagnosed many causes – social change,
political uncertainty, challenges to religious and intellectual certainties,
frustrated ambition, or just fin-de-siècle malaise – but they agreed that, in
the words of John Donne, ‘God hath accompanied, and complicated
almost all our bodily diseases of these times, with an extraordinary sad-
nesse, a predominent melancholy, a faintnesse of heart, a chearlesnesse, a
joylesnesse of spirit’.
41
They also recognised that melancholy particularly
affected Englishmen. Burton diagnosed idleness as a cause, comparing
The Netherlands favourably with England, and evoking in the process a
series of images startlingly at variance with our modern clichés of the
Elizabethan Golden Age:
those rich United Provinces of Holland, Zealand, &c. over against us;
those neat Cities and populous Townes, full of most industrious Artifi-
cers, so much land recovered from the Sea, so painefully preserved by
those Artificiall inventions . . . so many navigable channels from place to
place, made by mens hands, &c. and on the other side so many thousand
acres of our Fens lye drowned, our Cities thin, and those vile, poore, and
ugly to behold in respect of theirs, our trades decayed, our still running
rivers stopped, and that beneficiall use of transportation, wholly
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
50
neglected, so many Havens void of Ships and Townes, so many Parkes and
Forests for pleasure, barren Heaths, so many villages depopulated,
&c. . . .
42
On the personal level, the Elizabethans used the word ‘melancholy’ or
‘black bile’ to describe one of the four liquids or humours thought to be
naturally present in the body, as well as the physical and psychological
conditions that resulted from an excess of it.
43
The four humours were
the bodily equivalents of the four elements of inanimate matter. Black
bile was thick, heavy and sluggish, so the melancholy humour was heavy,
dull, cold and dry, and was connected with the element earth, the season
of winter, old age and, in astrology, the planet Saturn. Thus the melan-
choly man was lanky, swarthy, taciturn, obstinate, suspicious, jealous and
greedy. He naturally preferred solitude and darkness, and was continu-
ally tormented by morbid fears and sorrows.
Why the obsession with such an unattractive humour? One reason is
simply that melancholy was the fashionable ailment of the age. Dowland
certainly cultivated a melancholy public persona. He signed himself ‘Jo:
dolandi de Lachrimae’,
44
gave his pieces titles such as ‘Semper Dowland
semper Dolens’, ‘Melancholy Galliard’ and ‘Forlorn Hope Fancy’, and
pepperedhis publications withLatinmottoes suchas ‘Thearts whichhelp
all mankind cannot help their master’ (the title-page of The First Booke)
and ‘whom Fortune has not blessed, he either rages or weeps’ (the title-
page of Lachrimae).
45
Inthe emblembook Parthenia sacra ([Rouen], 1633;
repr. 1971), HenryHawkins madeexplicit connections betweenDowland,
Lachrimae, and melancholy when he wrote that a singing bird was more
melancholy than ‘Dowland himself ’ in ‘al his Plaints and Lachrymies’.
46
Writers, philosophers and scholars were thought to be particularly sus-
ceptible to melancholy because they led solitary, sedentary lives, and
because concentrated thinking supposedly dried up the body, inducing
melancholy. They were also concerned with melancholy because they
were able toanalyse the maladyinall its complexity, andtosuggest cures.
Music is important in this respect because it was thought to be one of
the most powerful antidotes to melancholy. ‘In my judgement’, Burton
wrote, ‘none so present, none so powerfull, none so apposite as a cup of
strong drinke, mirth, musicke, and merry company’, and went on to
explain that music is:
The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’
51
so powerfull a thing, that it ravisheth the soul, regina sensuum, the Queene
of the sences, by sweet pleasure, (which is an happy cure), and corporall
tunes pacifie our incorporeall soule, sine ore loquens, dominatum in animam
exercet [speaking without a mouth, it exercises domination over the soul],
and carries it beyond itselfe, helpes, elevates, extends it.
He also suggested that ‘Many men are melancholy by hearing Musicke,
but it is a pleasing melancholy that it causeth, and therefore to such as are
discontent, in woe, feare, sorrow, or dejected, it is a most present remedy,
it expells cares, alters their grieved mindes, and easeth in an instant’.
47
Dowland made a similar point in the Lachrimae dedication: ‘though the
title doth promise teares, unfit guests in these joyfull times, yet no doubt
pleasant are the teares which Musicke weepes, neither are teares shed
alwayes in sorrowe, but sometime in joy and gladnesse’. One of the func-
tions of his seven pavans, presumably, was to cure the melancholy they so
powerfully evoke.
‘Lachrimae Antiquae Novae’
If we assume, as I think we can, that ‘Antiquae’ was written long before
Dowland had the idea of expanding its material into a cycle of seven
pavans, then it follows that it is an exploration of melancholy in general
rather than a single aspect. When it became the first pavan in a cycle of
seven it assumed the role of a general introduction to the subject, a point
of departure. What then, of ‘Antiquae Novae’, the ‘old-new’ tears? I
suspect that Dowland also intended this pavan to represent melancholy
in general, though the title suggests that the anguish is new or has been
renewed in some way.
This is certainly suggested by the music, which is essentially a
straightforward revision and elaboration of ‘Antiquae’. Some of the
ideas, such as the pedal passage at the beginning of the second strain, are
simple decorations of the equivalent places in ‘Antiquae’, but the most
striking rhetorical ideas have been moved around, and have been
changed in the process. Condensed versions of the figures (c), (d) and (e)
are now in the third strain, and have been swapped with the ‘Sacred End’
motif, which is ingeniously combined in the second strain with a rising
figure derived from (a) and, in b. 13 of the Quintus, an inverted version of
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
52
(b). The harmonic outline of the pavan is essentially the same as ‘Anti-
quae’, though the A cadence at the end of the first strain is extended and
therefore reinforced, and the turn into C at the beginning of the second
strain is strengthened by replacing the 2–1 motion of the Bassus with a
5–1 motion, and by adding subdominant F major harmony on the first
beat of b. 10; it is also prolonged by secondary C cadences in bb. 12–13
and 14–15. This, together with the transfer of the D minor modulation
to the third strain (made necessary by moving (c) and (d)), has the effect
of greatly lessening the phrygian colour. The result is a more varied, bal-
anced and modern harmonic scheme, an apt illustration of the pavan’s
title.
‘Lachrimae Gementes’
Dowland illustrates ‘Gementes’, ‘sighing, groaning or wailing tears’, by
a greatly increased use of affective devices. Some of them, such as the
startling, declamatory passage near the beginning of the third strain
embodying a cadence on E, just serve to raise the temperature in a gener-
alised way. The figure is a classic example of epizeuxis, the ‘immediate
restatement of a word or two for greater vehemency’, according to Henry
Peacham senior, combined with mutatio toni, an abrupt change in har-
monic direction for expressive purposes (Ex. 4.7).
48
But others – such as
the modified version of the tear motif in bb. 1–2 of the Cantus containing
a 5–6–5 motif, the extension of the sequence of falling thirds in bb.
13–14, and the 4–3
¡
suspension at the end of the second strain – seem to
The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’
53
Ex. 4.7 ‘Gementes’, bb. 17–20 (lute part omitted)
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represent sighing. A number of them – the 5–6–5 sighing motif, the
mutatio toni and the inconclusive ending to the second strain – are also
found in ‘I saw my lady weepe’, the first song in The Second Booke. Daniel
Leech-Wilkinson has argued that ‘I saw my Lady weepe’ was conceived
as the first part of a pair with ‘Flow my teares’, the next piece in the col-
lection.
49
It is in Tone 3 with phrygian leanings, it borrows material from
‘Lachrimae’, it is also concerned with tears, and it ends inconclusively
with a dominant E major cadence that invites resolution by the first
chord of ‘Flow my teares’.
It is significant that Dowland used the ‘Sacred End’ figure in all three
strains: it is in b. 3 of the Altus, alluded to in bb. 6–7 of the Bassus, devel-
oped in imitation in bb. 9–10 of the Cantus and Bassus, and alluded to in
bb. 11 and 22–3 of the Altus. Furthermore, the sighing figure that begins
the third strain sounds like a modification of the ‘Sacred End’ figure, and
could easily be used to set the same words. I suspect that Dowland spread
it throughout the pavan because he was thinking specifically of the sighs
and groans of religious melancholy. Burton, a priest himself, considered
religious melancholy a species of love melancholy, and went into exhaus-
tive detail, blaming bad diet, fasting, mortification, and solitude as
causes.
50
By extension, religious melancholy could include superstition,
fanaticism, bigotry, heresy, atheism or hypocrisy.
‘Lachrimae Tristes’
Appropriately, ‘Tristes’, ‘Sad Tears’, contains the most profoundly sad
music. Dowland creates a feeling of grief, despair and even madness in
the first two strains mainly by harmonic means, though several dotted
crotchet–quaver figures (a grief emblem in later seventeenth-century
music) also add to the effect. There are some grinding dissonances in the
first strain, such as the minor sevenths between the outer parts on the
first beat of b. 3 and the third beat of b. 6 (aggravated by a suspension in
the Altus), and the dominant-seventh chord with an added 9–8 suspen-
sion on the first beat of b. 7. Furthermore, false relations occur in all but
the last two bars of the strain, adding to the hysterical atmosphere. The
second strain is more concerned with another type of disorder, harmonic
instability. It starts with an unexpected B major chord (a reference to the
mutatio toni near the beginning of the second strain of ‘Gementes’), but
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
54
rapidly traverses a cycle of fifths to reach G minor two bars later; it
outlines the remarkable melodic pattern F
¡
–G
¡
–A–B
,
–A in bb. 10–11 – a
reference to ‘I saw my Lady weepe’ at the words ‘In those faire eies where
all perfections keepe’ (see Ex. 4.8) . There is more disorder at the end of
the strain, where the expected phrygian cadence is modified into a
strange halting progression involving a bass suspension.
In the third strain, by contrast, the music is almost entirely conven-
tional, though the Altus fЈ added to the A minor cadence in b. 20 and the
dotted figures in the Cantus at b. 24 are a reminder of what has passed. It
is hard to resist the conclusion that Dowland intended this serene music
to portray some sort of relief or resolution of grief and despair, particu-
larly since bb. 20–2 are taken up with a rising sequence (another anabasis
or ascensio) using a figure developed from the tear motif that Dowland
was to use at the beginning of the much more positive and confident
‘Amantis’. As already mentioned, it is similar to the start of Marenzio’s
‘Rivi, fontane, e fiumi’, though it is also a musical commonplace; an
obvious example is the passage at the word ‘genuite’ in the ‘Dixit
Dominus’ of Monteverdi’s 1610 Vespers.
But what sort of grief and despair is portrayed in ‘Tristes’? Writers at
the time recognised two main types, sacred and profane, caused respec-
tively by the fear of damnation and rejection in love. Burton wrote that
‘The terrible meditation of hell fire and eternall punishment much tor-
ments a sinful silly soule’, and quoted Martin Luther: ‘They doubt of
their Election, how they shall know it, by what signes? And so farre forth
. . . with such nice points, torture and crucifie themselves, that they are
almost mad’. Men possessed with amor insanus (mad love), on the other
The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’
55
Ex. 4.8 ‘Tristes’, bb. 9–12 (lute part omitted)
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hand, are ‘no better than beasts, irrationall, stupid, head-strong, void of
feare of God or men, they frequently forsweare themselves, spend,
steale, commit incests, rapes, adulteries, murders, depopulate Townes,
Citties, Countries, to satisfie their lust’; the mad lover, of course, is a
familiar figure in Jacobean drama.
51
The music of ‘Tristes’ suggests that it is not primarily concerned
with religious despair. If it was, we might expect it to use the ‘Sacred
End’ figure even more than ‘Gementes’. It does refer to ‘Gementes’ in
the first strain. The modified ‘sighing’ version of the tear motif is trans-
ferred from the Cantus to the Altus, perhaps to darken the texture, the
‘Sacred End’ figure is alluded to in bb. 1–2 of the Quintus, and in bb. 5–6
of the Cantus, and two fanfare-like fourths in bb. 5–6 of the Tenor recall
the epizeusis in bb. 19–20 of ‘Gementes’. But much of the melodic
material is new, particularly in the second and third strains, and the
pavan takes new harmonic directions, hinting at D minor in the first
strain and approaching G minor in the second. The beautiful turn into
C major in bb. 13–15 is a hint that the pavan is concerned with despair-
ing love, for it is another allusion to ‘I saw my Lady weepe’, at the words
‘to be advanced so’.
‘Lachrimae Coactae’
The title, ‘enforced tears’ or perhaps ‘insincere tears’ or even ‘crocodile
tears’, suggests a connection with one of the most striking melancholy
types: the revenger or malcontent. When the Elizabethan vogue for mel-
ancholy began in the 1580s it was associated with Italy, and in particular
with Italian travellers or those who affected Italianate manners.
52
Their
melancholy was supposedly caused by society’s failure to appreciate
their talents, or by their dissatisfaction with the status quo. Thomas
Nashe thought it ‘a pitiful thing’ that the malcontent
should take uppe a scornfull melancholy in his gate and countenance,
and talke as though our common welth were but a mockery of govern-
ment, and our Majestrates fooles, who wronged him in not looking into
his deserts, not imploying him in State matters, and that, if more regard
were not had of him very shortly, the whole Realme should have a misse
of him, & he would go (I mary would he) where he should be more
accounted of.
53
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
56
Such alienation could easily lead to deceit, intrigue, treachery, sedition,
revenge and murder. One wonders whether Dowland was thought to
exemplify the melancholy malcontent. He repeatedly complained that
his talents went unrecognised in England, he had spent much of his
career abroad and had travelled to Italy, and at one stage he was suspected
by the authorities of sedition.
Be that as it may, ‘Coactae’ certainly seems to illustrate the malcontent.
It relates mainly to ‘Tristes’, and can be thought of as a parody of it – in
the musical sense as well as the general sense of ironic or satirical exagger-
ation. It distorts or exaggerates a number of its aspects, just as treachery
and revenge pervert grief and despair. For instance, the strange melodic
pattern G
¡
–A–B
,
–A in bb. 10–11 of the Cantus of ‘Tristes’ is reversed,
appearing in bb. 6–7 as B
,
–A–G
¡
–A, while the mutatio toni at the start of
the second strain turns into B minor rather than G minor, the A
¡
leading
note replacing its enharmonic equivalent, B
,
– a kind of musical irony
that would not have been lost on the lutenist, for whom B
,
and A
¡
were the
same symbol in the tablature.
54
Similarly, the anabasis or ascensio in bb.
20–2 of ‘Tristes’ is modified and inverted in bb. 11–13, with an unsettling
F
¡
– F
¸
change in the Altus and sinister chromatics in the Bassus. The har-
monic instability is maintained almost to the end of the strain: the music
swerves to avoid a D minor cadence in b. 14, then apparently heads
towards G major but settles into a V–I E major cadence, replacing the
expected phrygian cadence. It is perhaps significant that the pavan gener-
ally has the most complex part-writing of the set. It starts with the tear
motif in close canon between the Cantus and the Quintus, and there is
much use of syncopation or syneresis, a figure that could be thought of as a
musical portrayal of intrigue or deceit, though admittedly no source of
the period gives it this interpretation.
55
‘Lachrimae Amantis’
With ‘Amantis’, ‘a lover’s tears’, the cycle takes a much more positive turn.
The tone is set by the Bassus, which marches up a fifth from tonic to domi-
nant, echoing (a) in the process, and then up a seventh, swinging the music
into a radiant C major, the first time this key has been reached in the first
strain. When the music returns to the home key at the end of the strain, it
does so unexpectedly by way of four beats of A major harmony, produced by
The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’
57
a sighing A–C
¡
sixth in the Bassus and the Altus. Some of the ideas come
from ‘Tristes’, but they are the less anguished ones, or have been modified to
seem more joyful and confident. Thus the first three bars are modelled on
the anabasis or ascensio in bb. 20–2 of ‘Tristes’, while the questing second
strain recalls the second strain of ‘Tristes’, but uses modulations only on the
sharp side of the harmonic spectrum; flats are conspicuously avoided, with
the exception of the expressive 6
,
–3
¡
chord in b. 10. Two other features of
the pavan contribute to its distinctive character: it conspicuously avoids
phrygian progressions, and at the end of each strain the rate of chord-
change slows down markedly, producing an oddly static – or even ecstatic –
effect. Varying the rate of chord-change was a basic expressive device for the
madrigal composer, but it was rarely used in dance music.
We are clearly not dealing here with conventional love melancholy. In
the medical tradition deriving from Galen, love melancholy involved
sorrow virtually by definition, for erotic love was thought to be a san-
guine rather than a melancholy passion; it was warm and moist, pro-
duced by an excess of blood in the body. The lover only became cold, dry
and melancholic if his love was thwarted. But ‘Amantis’ is certainly not
sorrowful; as Dowland put it, ‘neither are tears shed alwayes in sorrowe,
but sometime in joy and gladnesse’. The pavan could refer to an alterna-
tive tradition, deriving from Aristotle by way of Marsilio Ficino and
other humanists, that saw melancholy as noble, virtuous and even
inspired. The Anatomy of Melancholy is mostly concerned with the
Galenic type, but Burton repeated Aristotle’s opinion that ‘melancholy
men of all others are most witty, which causeth many times a divine rav-
ishment, and a kind of Enthusiasmus, which stirreth them up to bee
excellent Philosophers, Poets, Prophets, &c.’.
56
Later writers were divided as to how the melancholy humour could
produce such contradictory effects, but most agreed, as Robert Crofts
put it in 1640, that if melancholics
Adict themselves to seeke and follow Vertue and Piety (especially if their
Melancholly bee with bloud and other good humours moderately
humected and allay’d) commonly become of excellent wisdome, sharp
Judgements and seeme to doe many things so notably as if they were fur-
thered by some divine Instinct or motion, Insomuch as oft-times even
their Solitarinesse and melancholly dispositions become most profitable,
sweet and pleasant to them.
57
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
58
Burton presumably had a similar conception of melancholy in mind
when he devoted the first few sections of his treatment of love melan-
choly to its ‘natural’ and ‘rational’ aspects, including love of profit, pos-
sessions, beauty and ‘Charity’, which includes ‘piety, dilection,
benevolence, friendship . . . the love we owe our countrey, nature, wealth,
pleasure, honour . . .’.
58
‘Amantis’, I suggest, is concerned with these
types of virtuous love, not erotic passion.
‘Lachrimae Verae’
‘Verae’, ‘true tears’, seems to be concerned with a more specific aspect of
noble melancholy, the ‘divinest Melancholy’ of the scholar and philoso-
pher, later celebrated by John Milton. In his poem ‘L’Allegro’ he rejects
the Galenic type, ‘loathed Melancholy / Of Cerberus, and blackest mid-
night born’, in favour of ‘heart-easing Mirth’. But Babb argued that the
companion poem, ‘Il Penseroso’, is an extended exploration of Aristote-
lian melancholy. Milton personifies it as a ‘Goddes, sage and holy’, a
‘pensive Nun, devout and pure, / Sober, stedfast and demure’. Under
her influence the poet is a wide-ranging seeker after truth and beauty,
contemplating nature, studying philosophy, appreciating tragic drama,
poetry, religious architecture and church music, before studying astron-
omy and botany in retirement in his ‘Mossy Cell’ until ‘old experience do
attain / To something like Prophetic strain’.
59
There certainly seems to be a wide-ranging quality to ‘Verae’, in part
because it tends to summarise and recapitulate the preceding pavans, and
is therefore more varied than any one of them. It begins with a variant of
the contrapuntal treatment of the tear motif, deriving from bb. 20–2 of
‘Tristes’ by way of the opening of ‘Amantis’. In b. 4 it swerves unexpect-
edly into G minor, recalling b. 11 of ‘Tristes’, and the B
,
–A–G
¡
–A figure
in the Cantus at the end of the strain is a direct reference to ‘Coactae’, bb.
6–7. The second strain refers again to the contrapuntal treatment of the
tear motif, with the bass marching upwards in crotchets as in the opening
of ‘Amantis’, and the D major–B major transition in ‘Amantis’, b. 12, is
echoed by the unexpected change in b. 10 from a G major cadence to E
major harmony, while the progression in bb. 11–12 cunningly combines
the 6
,
–3
¡
chord in ‘Amantis’, b. 10, with the G
¡
–A–B
,
–A figure in
‘Tristes’, bb. 10–11.
60
The end of the strain returns to a phrygian cadence
The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’
59
on E, referring back to the first three pavans, though the 4–3
¡
suspension
relates it particularly to ‘Gementes’. ‘Amantis’ is the main source of the
third strain: its A–C
¡
sixths in bb. 6–7 have their counterparts in the
E–G
¡
sixths in the Tenor, Bassus and Cantus parts of bb. 17–18, while its
opening is referred to yet again in bb. 19–20. Furthermore, the static
effect I observed towards the end of each strain of ‘Amantis’ is taken a
stage further in the last four bars of ‘Verae’. There is only one chord to a
bar, and several internal cadences are avoided, producing a strange
visionary, trance-like effect – a prophetic strain indeed (see Ex. 4.9).
Much more could be said about the seven pavans, though we can now
see that they form a true cycle, cumulative in its effect and greater than
the sum of its parts. They demand to be performed in a sequence, though
each pavan makes perfect sense on its own. They are linked by a subtle
web of melodic and harmonic cross-references, but they also seem to
outline a coherent spiritual programme taking the listener from conven-
tional, non-specific sadness through religious melancholy, grief and
despair, alienation and revenge, heroic and virtuous love, to enlighten-
ment and wisdom.
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
60
Ex. 4.9 ‘Verae’, bb. 17–24 (lute part omitted)
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5
‘Divers other Pavans, Galiards, and Almands’
The ordering of the collection
We have seen that the first part of Lachrimae, the seven ‘Passionate
Pavans’, has a complex and subtle organisation. But what of the second
part? At first sight it seems to be a miscellaneous collection. Dowland
described the fourteen other dances just as ‘divers other Pavans, Gali-
ards, and Almands’ on the title-page, and described Lachrimae in the
preface as ‘this long and troublesome worke, wherein I have mixed new
songs with olde, grave with light’. Nevertheless, method can be detected
in the ordering of Lachrimae on several levels.
The most obvious is that the collection contains twenty-one dances:
ten pavans, nine galliards and two almands. Many vocal collections of the
period have this number of pieces, including Dowland’s Third and Last
Booke and A Pilgrimes Solace, Bartlet’s Booke of Ayres (1606), Campion’s
Two Bookes of Ayres (?1613), Greaves’s Songs of Sundrie Kindes (1604),
all five of Robert Jones’s song books (1600, 1601, 1608, 1609, 1610), and
the double Booke of Ayres published by Campion and Rosseter (1601), as
well as Carleton’s Madrigals (1601), Farnaby’s Canzonets to Fowre Voyces
(1598), and three collections by Morley, The First Booke of Canzonets to
Two Voyces (1595), The First Booke of Balletts (1595) and Canzonets or
Little Short Aers (1597). It is also common in Italian madrigal collections.
To take just those by Dowland’s idol Marenzio, his four-part book, his
third, fourth, seventh, eighth, and ninth five-part books, and his second,
third, fifth, and sixth six-part books all have twenty-one pieces, as does
his first book of madrigali spirituali.
1
Why is this so? An obvious possibility is that the number twenty-one
has a symbolic significance, since it combines the numerologically sig-
nificant numbers seven and three, and the number seven is expressed
61
both in the cycle of seven pavans and, if we accept Lionel Pike’s
argument (see Chapter 4), the harmonies of ‘Lachrimae’ itself. But
twenty-one does not seem to be a particularly significant number itself,
and a more likely explanation is that it is a convenient number for printed
collections.
2
A quarto part-book of a madrigal set will typically consist of
twenty-four pages made up of three gatherings of eight pages, so twenty-
one pieces taking a page each will leave space for preliminaries such as a
title-page, a dedication, and a preface. Similar calculations apply to
Lachrimae and other table layout books in folio. Twenty-one pieces each
taking up an opening account for forty-two pages, leaving six pages for
preliminaries. Dowland used only five pages for preliminaries in Lachri-
mae – title-page, Latin dedication, English dedication, preface ‘To the
Reader’, and table of contents – though the book actually runs to forty-
nine pages because ‘Dolens’ is too long for a single opening. Luckily, it
was possible to tip in an odd leaf at the beginning or the end, which prob-
ably explains why some collections consist of twenty-two pieces. Exam-
ples include Dowland’s First Booke, East’s Second Set of Madrigales
(1606) and his Third Set of Bookes (1610), and Pilkington’s First Booke of
Songs or Ayres (1605).
Lachrimae is initially ordered by genre, progressing from the slowest
and most serious pieces, the pavans, to the fastest and lightest, the
almands. The principle can be detected in many sixteenth-century col-
lections, though an element of grouping by key was also increasingly
common. In Holborne’s Pavans, Galliards, Almains, for instance, pavan
and galliard pairs are followed by almands and corants. By the early
seventeenth century collections were usually organised by key rather
than genre: apart from two separate pieces, Schein’s Banchetto musicale
(Leipzig, 1617) consists of twenty five-movement suites.
3
Thus Lachrimae is highly unusual among contemporary consort col-
lections in that the principle of grouping by genre takes precedence over
the desire to pair pieces by key. Indeed, Dowland seems to have gone out
of his way to avoid pairing pavans and galliards. He did not provide any
galliards in the same keys as ‘Dolens’ or ‘Langton’, and while ‘Unton’ is
in Tone 2 and therefore could be paired with the Tone 2 ‘Essex’, ‘Noel’,
‘Collier’ or ‘Piper’, there is no reason to connect it with any of them.
‘Collier’ could not be easily paired with ‘Unton’, since, as we saw in
Chapter 2, it is scored differently, with two equal soprano parts, while the
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
62
proper pair for ‘Piper’, the related five-part ‘Piper’s Pavan’, was left out
of the collection; it is in D-Kl, 4° MS mus. 125, 1–5.
4
Presumably
Dowland preferred the more interesting and original relationships he
had developed between ‘Antiquae’ and the other ‘Lachrimae’ pavans.
Nevertheless, Dowland does seem to have chosen or composed some of
his ‘divers other Pavans, Galiards, and Almands’ so that they relate in
some way to the seven ‘Lachrimae’ pavans.
A second principle can be detected in the ‘divers other Pavans, Gali-
ards, and Almands’. It can be seen most clearly in the sequence of galli-
ards: they are ordered according to the rank of the dedicatee.
5
Thus a
piece dedicated to a king, ‘Denmark’, is followed by ones named after an
earl, ‘Essex’, a knight, ‘Souch’, and then six commoners. Similarly, a
pavan dedicated to a knight, ‘Unton’, takes precedence over ‘Langton’,
dedicated to a commoner, though the position of ‘Dolens’ at the head of
the three ‘divers other Pavans’ could be read as an assertion of the dignity
of the artist over worldly rank, if we accept that the pavan is, in a sense,
dedicated to himself.
Be that as it may, Lachrimae is unusual in that the ‘Divers other
Pavans, Galiards, and Almands’ are all dedicated to different people, and
it is striking how many of them are relatively unknown. Taken with the
fact that in at least three cases the pieces seem to be memorials to the
recently deceased, it looks as if the dedications are records of personal
friendship or esteem, along the lines of the ‘friends pictured within’
Elgar’s Enigma Variations, rather than attempts to curry favour among
the great and the good. This in turn raises the possibility that, like Elgar,
Dowland matched the mood of each piece to the character of its dedica-
tee, or matched the dedicatee to the mood of the piece, for it seems that
some of them were only named when they appeared in Lachrimae.
Perhaps future research will reveal more about the more obscure figures
he chose, and thus more about the music Dowland dedicated to them.
‘Semper Dowland semper Dolens’
‘Dolens’ comes after ‘Verae’, and to some extent acts as a pendant to the
‘Lachrimae’ pavans, which is why, Warwick Edwards suggested,
Dowland chose to work in several allusions to his song ‘Go christall
teares’ from The First Booke.
6
Diana Poulton suggested that Dowland
‘Divers other Pavans, Galiards, and Almands’
63
derived its title, literally ‘always Dowland, always sorrowful’, from the
Latin motto ‘Doleo, quia semper dolens dolere nescio’ (‘I sorrow
because, ever sorrowing, I know not how to sorrow’), copied in Decem-
ber 1602 by the barrister John Manningham from a French work on civil
law, but David Pinto has suggested to me that it ultimately derives from a
phrase of St Augustine, ‘dolerem, quia non legerem quod dolerem’
(‘how sorry would I be, for that I might not read that which would make
me sorry’).
7
‘Dolens’ seems to portray Dowland’s personal anguish in a way that
the ‘Lachrimae’ pavans do not, concerned as they are with the various
‘characters’ of melancholy; indeed, the piece seems to be much more of a
self-portrait than ‘Antiquae’ or ‘Antiquae Novae’, an exploration of
Dowland’s own melancholy character. Significantly, the connections are
mostly with ‘Tristes’. Both pavans open with sighing suspended figures
that refer to ‘Go christall teares’, and the modulatio toni outlining the
G
¡
–A–B
,
figure in the Cantus of bb. 10–11 of ‘Tristes’ is echoed by bb.
7–8 of ‘Dolens’ (see Ex. 5.1). Also, the dotted-crotchet–quaver figures I
remarked on in the former are developed into a full-blown contrapuntal
figure at the end of the second strain of the latter.
However, the most striking feature of ‘Dolens’ is its harmonic
instability. Dowland seems to have set out to make it as difficult as pos-
sible to determine its tonality. It continually twists and turns between
Tones 1, 2 and 3, false relations constantly cancel the effect of the leading
notes of internal cadences, and each strain breaks offwith an unexpected
inconclusive cadence, leaving the music in the air – a device perhaps
inspired by the similar cadence at the end of the second strain of
‘Gementes’. It is the musical equivalent of aposiopesis, the rhetorical
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
64
Ex. 5.1 ‘Dolens’, bb. 7–9 (lute part omitted)
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device that Henry Peacham senior described as ‘when through some
affection, as of feare, anger, sorrow, bashfulnesse, and such like, we break
of[f] our speech, before it all be ended’.
8
The reader will be aware by now that I believe ‘Dolens’ was written
especially for Lachrimae, and that the lute solo, with its disappointingly
conventional final cadence, is not the original as Diana Poulton sug-
gested; perhaps it was altered by someone who could not stomach
Dowland’s inconclusive ending.
9
I find it hard to believe that this striking
effect, used so memorably at the end of the song ‘In darknesse let me
dwell’ in A Musicall Banquet, was not part of his original conception,
though two sources of the lute setting, The Euing Lute Book and The
Weld Lute Book, are usually dated around 1600, and therefore appear to
predate Lachrimae. But this is just a guess: the Euing book was probably
copied nearer 1610 than 1600, and the Weld book could easily date from a
year or two after 1603–4.
10
With strains of ten, eleven and fifteen bars,
‘Dolens’ is by far Dowland’s longest pavan, and its third strain, with a
synthetic cantus firmus in the manner of Philips’s 1580 Pavan (see
Chapter 3), contains some of his most complex and sophisticated
counterpoint.
‘Sir Henry Umptons Funerall’
The two remaining pavans in Lachrimae are shorter and simpler works,
and seem to be earlier. ‘Unton’ is unique to the collection: there is no sep-
arate lute setting, perhaps because the Lachrimae lute part has all the
essential melodic material and works well as a solo; perhaps it was con-
ceived as such. The piece is a memorial to the diplomat Sir Henry Unton
or Umpton of Wadley near Faringdon in Berkshire (d. 23 March 1596),
and is therefore the counterpart to a collection of Latin verse, Funebria
nobilissimi ad praestantissimi equitis D. Henrici Untoni (Oxford, 1596), and
the famous biographical painting, now in the National Portrait Gallery,
that includes depictions of a mixed consort and a five-part viol consort.
11
Warwick Edwards first pointed out that ‘Unton’ has virtually the
same harmonic plan as a pavan by Holborne, ‘The Funerals’ in Pavans,
Galliards, Almains, no. 31, entitled more precisely ‘The Countess of
Pembroke’s Funeral’ in the lute setting – presumably Anne, second wife
of William Herbert, first Earl of Pembroke (d. 8 August 1588).
12
Thus
‘Divers other Pavans, Galiards, and Almands’
65
Dowland seems to have borrowed from Holborne rather than the other
way round, and this is borne out by the music. Holborne’s pavan is rela-
tively simple, with three eight-bar strains and rather loosely organised
counterpoint mainly in plain patterns of rising and falling crotchets,
while Dowland’s is much more elaborate, with the third strain extended
to ten bars, and several sections of complex imitative counterpoint. Two
of them are related to ideas in ‘Antiquae’: bb. 6–7 is another version of
the ‘Sacred End’ figure, with its appropriate associations with the words
‘Mercie, good Lord, mercie’, while bb. 13–14 uses the contrapuntal
version of the tear motif derived from the opening of Marenzio’s ‘Rivi,
fontane, e fiumi’. I believe that Dowland intended this idea to represent
consolation and relief from sorrow in ‘Tristes’, and it presumably has the
same meaning here.
‘M. John Langtons Pavan’
It has often been suggested that pavans named after individuals were
written as memorial pieces, and while ‘Unton’ seems to confirm the
theory, ‘Langton’ contradicts it: the Lincolnshire landowner John
Langton (1561–1616) of Langton near Horncastle was very much
alive in 1604, and the piece is Dowland’s least sorrowful pavan, in a
sunny Tone 6.
13
Zarlino wrote that its ancestor, the lydian fifth mode,
‘brings to the spirit modesty, happiness, and relief from annoying
cares’, and that the moderns, ‘induced by the sweetness and beauty’ of
the ionian eleventh mode, replace b-natural with b-flat – effectively
creating F major.
14
The pavan exists in three versions, an early unti-
tled lute pavan, the Lachrimae consort setting, and a later lute setting
in Varietie of Lute-Lessons entitled ‘Sir John Langton his Pavin’ –
Langton was knighted in 1603.
15
The first two are fairly similar, but
‘Sir John Langton his Pavin’ has more elaborate divisions, and in it
Dowland took the opportunity to correct the strange rhythmic dis-
placement in the second half of the second strain which shifts the
internal cadences on to the second and fourth beats of the bar. He
inserted an extra minim into b. 10 and three minims into b. 13, creat-
ing an eight-bar rather than a seven-bar strain, thus avoiding the
awkward effect in b. 14, where the dominant harmony arrives a beat
early and has to be artificially prolonged.
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
66
This suggests that ‘Langton’ is a fairly early work, and it is borne
out by the simple, Holborne-like style and the limited harmonic plan,
I–I / V–V / I–I. Paul O’Dette has remarked on Dowland’s fondness
for beginning pieces with melodies that descend a fifth by step,
16
though Holborne also used the idea several times: Pavan no. 3 of
Pavans, Galliards, Almains begins in virtually the same way as
‘Langton’. Nevertheless, ‘Langton’ is a sweetly satisfying work, with
a number of felicitous touches, such as the tiny rising imitative point
in bb. 3–4, the unexpected C minor chord on the fourth beat of b. 4
(not present in the lute settings), and the opening of the third strain,
which contains a beautiful harmonic turn similar to bb. 13–14 of
‘Awake sweete love’ in The First Booke.
17
For some reason the first bar
of the second strain is virtually the same as the equivalent bar in the
lute pavan ‘La mia Barbara’.
18
‘The Earle of Essex Galiard’
Dowland was evidently particularly fond of the galliard as a genre.
We know of more than thirty examples by him, and there are nine in
Lachrimae. Among them are some of his most popular pieces: all but
two are known in earlier instrumental versions, and four also exist as
songs. It is not clear whether ‘Essex’ was written before its song
version, ‘Can she excuse my wrongs’ in The First Booke. The earliest
datable source, the Dowland Lutebook in Washington (c. 1594),
includes a lute setting signed by the composer with the title ‘Can she
excuse’, which implies that the song version was circulating by
then.
19
But Edward Doughtie pointed out that the poem, supposedly
Essex’s complaint against Queen Elizabeth, has no proper metrical
structure, and produces unnatural word stresses when sung, a sure
sign that the dance came first.
20
Furthermore, the vigorous and forth-
right music, a study in galliard cross-rhythms, is rather at odds with
the mood of the text, though it is an apt portrait of the dashing and
impulsive earl. So far as we know, Dowland first used the title ‘The
Earle of Essex Galiard’ in Lachrimae, perhaps to commemorate
Essex’s execution in 1601. But he may have had him in mind from the
beginning, for the Altus quotes the popular song ‘Will you go walk the
woods so wild’ in the third strain, which may be a subtle reference to
‘Divers other Pavans, Galiards, and Almands’
67
Essex’s fondness for his country house at Wanstead in Epping Forest;
John Ward pointed out that the tune was often quoted in contrapuntal
compositions.
21
‘Captaine Digorie Piper his Galiard’
‘Piper’ is strikingly similar to ‘Essex’, and was occasionally confused
with it at the time. They are both in Tone 2 with phrygian leanings, they
both consist of three eight-bar strains, and they start with arching
phrases that rise in arpeggios and then fall by step to a dominant chord
on the first beat of b. 4. Yet if ‘Piper’ is a portrait of the notorious Captain
Digorie Piper (1559–90) of The Sweepstake who narrowly escaped pun-
ishment for piracy in 1586, he was a more sombre character than the Earl
of Essex.
22
The piece demands a slower tempo, there is a noticeable
absence of jaunty cross-rhythms, and the potentially lively figure in the
third strain is made more subdued by the absence of the bass in the first
four bars. Of course, this may just be because the song version, ‘If my
complaints could passions move’, was written first. The text makes good
sense as a poem and fits the tune well, though there are signs that at least
the lower vocal parts of the part-song version were added later: their
underlay is often awkward, and Dowland had to fudge the imitative entry
in b. 2 of the tenor part. The evidence of the sources is not conclusive:
Dowland may have composed the solo lute version by the time Piper died
in 1590, since Matthew Holmes copied it into GB-Cu, MS Dd.2.11, f. 53
in the early 1590s, while the song is in The First Booke of 1597.
23
‘M. Henry Noel his Galiard’
Like ‘Essex’ and ‘Piper’, ‘Noel’ also exists as a lute solo and a song as well
as the Lachrimae consort setting. The lute solo, entitled ‘Mignarde’ or
‘Mignarda’, is in GB-Cu, MS Dd.2.11, f. 77,
24
which means it was in cir-
culation in the early 1590s, while the song, ‘Shall I strive with wordes to
move’, only appeared in A Pilgrimes Solace of 1612. This suggests it was
originally written as an instrumental galliard rather than a song, and this
is borne out by the fact that, like ‘Flow my teares’, ‘Shall I strive with
wordes to move’ has no metrical regularity, and some of the accentuation
of the words is, for Dowland, surprisingly clumsy.
25
The title ‘Mignarde’,
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
68
a French-derived word meaning ‘delicate’, ‘pretty’ or ‘mincing’, is apt for
a graceful piece similar in mood to ‘Piper’; Arbeau used the word
‘mignardez’, ‘delicately’, ‘prettily’ or ‘mincingly’ to describe an espe-
cially graceful way of executing the five steps of the galliard.
26
Dowland
probably changed its title in Lachrimae to commemorate his friend and
patron, the courtier Henry Noel, who died in February 1597.
27
‘Sir John Souch his Galiard’
‘Souch’, by contrast, probably started life as the song ‘My thoughts are
wingd with hopes’ in The First Booke. The poem is in regular iambic
pentameters, and was clearly not written to fit the music, since it circu-
lated independently of the song and has been attributed to John Lyly,
George earl of Cumberland and Walter Ralegh, among others. Diana
Poulton pointed out that the melody seems to be a response to the first
verse – the words ‘mount’, ‘moone’ and ‘the heavens’ are set to high
notes – and Anthony Munday wrote verses published in 1584 to fit the
vocal form of the melody.
28
The earliest source of the instrumental
version of the melody, which is more decorated than the song in the
second and third strains, seems to be an untitled lute solo in GB-Cu, Dd.
5.78.3, dating from the 1590s; the dedication to Sir John Souch or Zouch
of Codnor Castle in Derbyshire is only found in Lachrimae.
29
The galliard is of interest for its connections with ‘Antiquae’. It is
in Tone 3, it has essentially the same harmonic pattern as the pavan,
with phrygian cadences in bb. 3–4, 15–16 and 19–20 and a prominent
turn into C major at the beginning of the second strain, and the
melody includes the tetrachord C–B–A–G
¡
a number of times. John
Ward has also pointed out that it belongs to a family of English galli-
ards that begin in a similar way, including Daniel Bacheler’s song ‘To
plead my faith’, Dowland’s ‘Queen Elizabeth’s Galliard’, and a
popular galliard by the court wind player James Harding, as well as
‘Hoby’ in Lachrimae.
30
‘M. Giles Hobies his Galiard’
In fact, ‘Hoby’ is virtually a parody of James Harding’s galliard: the
two pieces have similar harmonic patterns, and there are a number
‘Divers other Pavans, Galiards, and Almands’
69
of significant melodic details in common, such as the passage of
cross-rhythms at the beginning of the second strain, and the synco-
pated rising pattern at the end of Harding’s second strain, which
Dowland placed at the end of his third strain (see Ex. 5.2). Perhaps
Dowland was just returning the compliment, for James Harding may
have written his galliard to be paired with ‘Lachrimae’. The two pieces
are found together a number of times, including Byrd’s keyboard
setting and the five-part one copied by William Wigthorpe, while ‘Can
she excuse’ / ‘Essex’ was also sometimes pressed into service in the
same way; ‘Lachrimae’ did not have its own galliard until the lute ‘Gal-
liard to Lachrimae’ appeared in A Pilgrimes Solace in 1612.
31
Dowland
probably gave ‘Hoby’ its title only when he published it in Lachrimae
(an earlier lute setting is untitled), though little is known about Giles
Hoby (1565–1626) of the Herefordshire landed family, and nothing
about why Dowland dedicated this splendidly vigorous piece to him.
32
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
70
Ex. 5.2a J. Harding, Galliard, bb. 12–16
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‘M. Buctons Galiard’
‘Bucton’ is also a reworking of music by another composer. It is one of
four galliards associated with Dowland that are derived from Lassus’s
famous chanson ‘Susane un jour’, first published in London in 1570.
33
The others are the early anonymous lute piece ‘Suzanna Galliard’, the
five-part ‘Galliard / Jhon Douland’ in the 1607 Füllsack and Hilde-
brandt anthology, and the later lute piece dedicated to Sir Robert Sidney,
‘The Right Honourable the Lord Viscount Lisle, His Galliard’ in Varie-
tie of Lute-Lessons. The four pieces were boiled down surprisingly liter-
ally from the original; indeed, virtually every note of ‘Bucton’ derives
from Lassus. The first strain comes from bb. 1–6 and 13–14, the second
strain from bb. 28–9, 31–4 and 46–9, while the third strain comes from
the chanson’s final phrase, b. 53 to the end. This technique of deriving
dances from French chansons went back to the early sixteenth century,
and was outmoded by 1604; two equivalent pieces, five-part pavans
based rather more loosely on ‘Susane un jour’ by Alfonso Ferrabosco I
and Joseph Lupo, may have been written as early as the 1570s.
34
‘Bucton’ is the closest of the four galliards to the chanson, since
Lassus’s tune tends to be obscured by decorations in the lute settings,
and the Cantus of the other five-part setting is also decorated with lute-
like figuration, perhaps derived from an otherwise lost lute piece. It is
also much more subtle than the others, and may therefore be the latest,
though it was published earlier than two of them. For instance, their
openings are homophonic, while it begins with elaborate counterpoint,
and the beginning of its third strain is greatly enhanced by allowing the
tune to get out of step with the lower parts, creating a delightful type of
rhythmic counterpoint (see Ex. 5.3). John Ward suggested that the
dedicatee of this small masterpiece was a courier who worked with
Dowland for Sir Henry Cobham in Paris.
35
‘The King of Denmarks Galiard’
‘Denmark’ is also a compilation, drawn from the repertory of Renais-
sance battle music. It consists of three four-bar phrases with written-out
varied repeats, of which the first two (A, B) are closely related, embody-
ing Dowland’s favourite melodic descent from fifth to tonic, while the
‘Divers other Pavans, Galiards, and Almands’
71
third (C) begins with an ascending dotted phrase. All three relate to pas-
sages in two English keyboard battle pieces, the ‘March of Horsemen’
section of William Byrd’s ‘The Battle’ and ‘A Battle and no Battle’ attrib-
uted to John Bull, while A and B also relate to passages in an anonymous
lute battle piece, found in the Dallis lute manuscript of 1583 and several
later sources.
36
Dowland also used A and C as the second and third
strains of ‘Mr. Langton’s Galliard’, while another galliard attributed to
him begins with A in the minor rather than the major; Dowland’s ‘Round
Battle Galliard’ is not related.
37
In essence, the three phrases are decorations of the same harmony,
I–V–I or I–IV–V–I, and they appear in ‘A Battle and no Battle’ as part of a
set of divisions on a ground, with the ground allocated to a second player.
But ‘Denmark’ is different from the other pieces in that each phrase is in a
different key – D major, F major and D minor – and this striking device
evidently impressed Charles Butler, who mentioned ‘the Battel-galliard’
as an example of how different modes could be ‘compounded’ or mixed
together in a single piece.
38
The late lute setting in Varietie of Lute-Lessons
preserves the three-key structure of ‘Denmark’ but adds three beautifully
conceived and imaginative variations.
39
Dowland presumably intended
his battle piece as a compliment to Christian IV’s military prowess, though
the king was to be notably unsuccessful as a commander in the Thirty
Years War. Its warlike character could also be a sly reference to Christian’s
reputation as a hard drinker, for the Danish king’s toasts were habitually
accompanied by trumpets and drums, as in the first act of Hamlet: ‘And as
he dreines his draughts of Rhenish downe, / The kettle Drum and
Trumpet thus bray out / The triumph of his Pledge’.
40
Perhaps Dowland
also intended the key changes to represent drunkenness.
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
72
Ex. 5.3 ‘Bucton’, bb. 17–21 (lute part omitted)
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‘M. Thomas Collier his Galiard with 2 Trebles’
The two galliards still to be discussed, ‘Gryffith’ and ‘Collier’, do not
survive in any other source, and may have been written specially for Lachri-
mae. ‘Collier’ is much the simpler of the two, with three eight-bar strains,
and could easily have been taken for an early piece had Dowland not used the
new-fangled two-soprano scoring. Yet the musical potential of this device is
only really exploited in the third strain, when the soprano instruments
engage in a proper dialogue using material similar to, and perhaps derived
from, the third strain of ‘Piper’. Nothing is known of Thomas Collier.
‘M. Nicholas Gryffith his Galiard’
‘Gryffith’ is virtually the only galliard in the repertory with the sort of
elaborate imitative counterpoint we associate with pavans. Dowland
gave himself the space to achieve this partly by extending the second and
third strains to twelve bars, and partly by speeding up the harmonic
rhythm, which inevitably slows down the tempo. It is largely taken up
with patterns of rising and falling crotchets, sometimes incorporating
the contrapuntal version of the tear motif used in ‘Tristes’, ‘Amantis’
and ‘Verae’. Though it shares Tone 3 with the seven ‘Lachrimae’ pavans,
it is interesting and perhaps significant that its tonality is as different
from them as it is possible to be. While they lean towards the phrygian
Tone 4, it shows the strong influence of Tone 1: it starts with an A major
rather than an A minor chord, there are internal D minor cadences in the
first and third strains, and the second strain is largely in D minor, eventu-
ally cadencing in the distant key of F major – one of the ‘Improper
Cadences’, ‘strange and informal to the Air’ and ‘sparingly to be used’,
according to Charles Butler. It is hard to believe that Dowland wrote his
most complex and sophisticated galliard much before Lachrimae was
published, though we can only guess why he dedicated it to the obscure
Nicholas Gryffith or Griffith, M.P. for Carnarvon.
41
‘Mistresse Nichols Almand’
Lachrimae ends with the two almands, ‘Nichol’ and ‘Whitehead’. They
are both in Tone 5, but are quite different from each other. The former is
‘Divers other Pavans, Galiards, and Almands’
73
a breezy little two-strain piece of just twelve four-crotchet bars. The
Lachrimae version, the only one dedicated to the otherwise unknown
Mistress Nichol or Nichols, is more complex than the simple lute
setting, with a series of suspensions in the last four bars. It may have
existed before 1604, or there may have been an intermediate version,
now lost, for the five-part setting in Valentin Haussmann’s Rest von Pol-
nischen und andern Täntzen (Nuremberg, 1603), published before Lachri-
mae appeared, has some of its features, including the suspensions in the
last four bars.
42
‘M. George Whitehead his Almand’
‘Whitehead’ is much more extended and sophisticated, with strains of
eight and sixteen bars, a wide-ranging tonal scheme with modulations to
G major, D minor, A minor and F major, and a remarkable question-and-
answer passage in the second strain that sounds like battle music. Diana
Poulton suggests it was influenced by a four-part chant of the Athanasian
Creed in an Oxford manuscript, but chants of this sort only developed
after the Restoration, and the manuscript dates from around 1700.
43
‘Whitehead’ is not known elsewhere, and was probably written specially
for the volume; again, we do not know why Dowland dedicated it to
George Whitehead, an obscure tenant of the Duke of Northumber-
land.
44
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
74
6
Reception
John Dowland was a prophet largely without honour in his own land. He
was one of the most famous lutenists in Europe, yet he had to wait until
he was nearly fifty before he received a post at the English court. He was
one of the greatest English composers of his time, yet his music was
quickly forgotten by his compatriots. The lute song was superseded in
the 1620s by new types of continuo song. The brilliant and elaborate type
of lute music he cultivated gave way about the same time to slighter and
less demanding idioms from France using the new Baroque tunings. And
the great idiom of Elizabethan consort dance music, brought to its
highest point by Dowland, was quickly replaced by new forms and styles.
The pavan and the galliard gave way to new and lighter dances such the
almand, corant and saraband, scored for lighter and smaller combina-
tions of violins and viols with theorboes. Although some Jacobean
consort music continued to be copied until after the Restoration, none of
the Lachrimae pieces exists in later English sources.
However, Dowland’s music survived for rather longer in the Anglo-
German consort repertory. Thomas Simpson included settings of
‘Antiquae Novae’ and ‘Langton’ in his Opusculum neuwer Pavanen,
pairing them with his own related galliards; Konrad Hagius printed his
own setting of ‘Essex’ in his partly lost Newe künstliche musicalische
Intraden (Nuremberg, 1616), wrongly entitling it ‘Pypers Galliard’; and
Simpson included a version of ‘Nichol’ in Taffel-Consort (Hamburg,
1621), using the new ‘string quartet’ scoring of two sopranos, tenor and
bass with a continuo part rather than Dowland’s five-part scoring with a
single soprano.
1
Other Dowland pieces in German consort collections
include the pavan ‘La mia Barbara’ in Simpson’s Opusculum, two set-
tings of ‘Piper’ printed by Hagius, and arrangements in Taffel-Consort
of the songs ‘Were every thought an eye’ and ‘Lady if you so spite me’, as
75
well as a pavan and a volta ascribed to Dowland but not known else-
where.
2
The Anglo-German consort style petered out in the 1620s, prob-
ably because the Thirty Years War had begun to limit the access of
English touring theatre companies to Germany, but a few pieces by
Dowland survived longer in the keyboard repertory. We have English
settings of ‘Lachrimae’ by William Byrd, Giles Farnaby, William
Randall and Benjamin Cosyn, among others, and the piece probably
entered the German repertory partly by way of Sweelinck’s ‘Pavana
Lachrymae’: his pupil Melchior Schildt wrote a setting, and an anony-
mous one has been attributed to Heinrich Scheidemann, another
pupil.
3
A fragment of the Schildt setting is in a Swedish manuscript
started in 1641 that also includes a setting of ‘La mia Barbara’ pavan by
Paul Siefert, a third Sweelinck pupil, while the only source of the
Sweelinck ‘Pavana Lachrymae’, now in Budapest, may date from 1670
or later; it also includes keyboard variations on ‘Denmark’ by Samuel
Scheidt, yet another Sweelinck pupil.
4
Scheidt’s famous five-part
‘Galliard Battaglia’, printed in 1621, also takes ‘Denmark’ as its start-
ing point.
5
Dowland’s memory was also preserved for several decades after his
death by pieces that allude in various ways to ‘Lachrimae’. The prac-
tice of writing pavans beginning with the tear motif began quite early.
Holborne used it to begin six pavans in Pavans, Galliards, Almains, nos.
7, 21 ‘Infernum’, 23 ‘Spero’, 27 ‘The Image of Melancholy’, 49 ‘Plo-
ravit’ and 51 ‘Posthuma’, and it is also found in five-part pavans by
Thomas Weelkes and George Kirbye, an incomplete five-part pavan by
Tomkins, a five-part pavan and galliard by Brade in Füllsack and
Hildebrandt’s 1607 anthology, a six-part pavan in Brade’s 1614 collec-
tion, a five-part pavan and galliard in Simpson’s 1610 collection, the
pavan from the Suite no. 6 in Schein’s Banchetto musicale, and the
pavan for four crumhorns in the same collection.
6
Pieces of this sort for
solo instruments include the Landgrave of Hesse’s eloquent lute pavan
dedicated to Dowland and printed in Varietie of Lute-Lessons, a key-
board pavan and galliard by Morley beginning with the complete tear
motif, and Orlando Gibbons’s ‘Lord Salisbury’ pavan and galliard;
another keyboard pavan by Orlando Gibbons does not use the falling
fourth, but alludes to the harmony of ‘Lachrimae’ in several places, and
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
76
uses the idea that begins Dowland’s third strain at the beginning of the
second strain.
7
Many later pieces also use the tear motif, though it is hard to know
whether their composers were responding directly to ‘Lachrimae’ or just
generally to a tradition of sorrowful pavans derived from it. They
include a four-part pavan in D minor by William Lawes, rewritten by
him in C minor for five viols and organ; the opening of Lawes’s Fantasia
Suite no. 7 in D minor for two violins, bass viol and organ; a four-part
pavan in D minor by John Jenkins; and a four-part D-minor pavan by the
Hamburg violinist Johann Schop (c. 1590–1667), probably a pupil of
William Brade.
8
The last alludes to ‘Lachrimae’ at the beginning of the
first two strains, and then quotes the opening of ‘Langton’ at the begin-
ning of the third. Schop’s music preserved elements of the Anglo-
German style long after most of his contemporaries had moved on to
other things: his divisions on ‘Lachrimae’ for violin and bass was pub-
lished in’ t Uitnement Kabinet I (Amsterdam, 1646).
9
The falling
tetrachords of ‘Lachrimae’ are also echoed in a group of late seven-
teenth-century French lute allemandes or allemande-like tombeaux by
Jacques Gallot, Robert de Visée and Charles Mouton, as well as
Germans working in the same tradition such as Esias Reusner and
Silvius Leopold Weiss.
10
Dowland’s music lingered longest in The Netherlands: the tunes of
four of his pieces – ‘Lachrimae’, ‘Now, O now I needs must part’ or the
‘Frog Galliard’, the country dance version of ‘Essex’ or ‘Can she excuse’
(see below), and ‘Come againe, sweet love doth now envite’ – passed into
the Dutch repertory of popular songs, probably from travelling English
theatre troupes. All four appear in Adriaen Valerius’s Neder-landtsche
gedenck-clanck (Haarlem, 1626; repr. 1974), and the first three were
printed in successive editions of Stichtelycke rymen by Dirk Rafaelszoon
Camphuysen.
11
Valerius printed a setting of ‘Lachrimae’ for two voices
with lute and cittern, while it appeared in the 1647 edition of Stichtelycke
rymen set for four voices, and in the 1652 edition set for two voices with
variations by Joseph Butler for violin and bass viol. Its popularity also
ensured it a place in instrumental anthologies such as Nicolas Vallet’s
Apollinis süsse Leyr (Amsterdam, 1642) and Jacob van Eyck’s Euterpe
(Amsterdam, 1644), reprinted in Der fluyten lust-hof I (Amsterdam,
1649); the former is a setting for violin and bass (the violin part is lost),
Reception
77
the latter four variations for solo recorder. The tune is found in Dutch
song books up to 1743.
‘Essex’ or ‘Can she excuse’ also survived into the eighteenth century,
but in a country dance version known as ‘Excuse me’, first printed in
Thomas Robinson’s New Citharen Lessons (1609), no. 21. Van Eyck pub-
lished two settings as ‘Excusemoy’ in Der Fluyten Lust-hof II (Amster-
dam, 1646), and it appeared in Dutch sources as late as Oude en nieuwe
Hollantse boren lietjes en contredansen (Amsterdam, c. 1700–c. 1716; repr.
1972). ‘Excuse me’ is the only tune deriving from Dowland that also sur-
vived in the English popular repertory: it appeared in The Dancing
Master from the seventh edition (1686) to the eighteenth (c. 1728), and
was also called for in several ballad operas, including Gay’s Polly (1729)
and Andrew Barton’s The Disappointment, or The Force of Credulity (New
York, 1767).
12
Revival
The 1760s saw the beginnings of the revival of Elizabethan music. The
first volume of Boyce’s Cathedral Music appeared in 1760, and Sir John
Hawkins and Charles Burney were actively collecting material during
the decade for their rival histories of music, published respectively in
1776 and 1776, 1782 and 1789. Hawkins confined himself to an outline of
Dowland’s life, and although Burney attempted to assess the music, he
was notably unsympathetic: he claimed to have been ‘equally disap-
pointed and astonished’ at Dowland’s ‘scanty abilities in counterpoint,
and the great reputation he acquired with his co[n]temporaries’, and
suggested he ‘had not studied composition regularly at an early period of
his life; and was but little used to writing in many parts’.
13
With attitudes of this sort, it is not surprising that the revival of
Dowland’s music essentially had to wait until the twentieth century. The
First Booke was edited by William Chappell for The Musical Antiquar-
ian Society in 1844, though complete editions of the voice and lute ver-
sions of the songs only appeared in 1922–4, and some of the part-song
versions remained unpublished until 1953. The instrumental music had
to wait even longer: Lachrimae first appeared in 1927, but most of the
lute music had to wait until the publication of CLM in 1974. Another
reason why Dowland’s music was neglected so long was that much of it
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
78
requires the lute and the viol, instruments that were largely out of use
between the early eighteenth century and the late nineteenth century.
Peter Warlock still assumed modern strings rather than viols in his
edition of Lachrimae and suggested the independent material in the lute
part could be cued into the string parts, or that the part could be played
on a harpsichord or even a piano.
Some of the pioneer groups such as the London Consort of Viols
and the English Consort of Viols may have performed pieces from
Lachrimae in the 1930s and 40s, though the first complete recording
only appeared in 1957–8. The Elizabethan Players (1957) recorded the
seven ‘Lachrimae’ pavans and ten of the other pieces on viols, but with
the treble viols played under the chin, to judge from a photograph
in the accompanying leaflet, and a virginals instead of a lute playing
only the flourishes at the end of the strains.
14
The first complete
recording, by the Philomusica of London directed by Thurston Dart
(c. 1957–8), uses a modern string orchestra with lute and harpsichord.
15
Six of the seven subsequent complete recordings, by the Schola Can-
torum Basiliensis (1962), the Consort of Musicke (1979), the Dowland
Consort (1985), Hesperion XX (1987), Fretwork (1989–90) and the
Rose Consort (1992, 1997), use the same scoring, a viol consort with
lute, though comparisons between them reveal much about changing
attitudes to the disposition of instruments, stringing, tuning, vibrato,
styles of bowing, articulation and ornamentation. The recording by
The Parley of Instruments (1992) uses a Renaissance violin consort
with a lute, and transposes the low-pitched pieces up a fourth, as dis-
cussed in Chapter 2.
16
Today, Dowland’s music is more popular than at any time in the
400 years since it was written; indeed, Lachrimae is probably the most
recorded and performed collection of instrumental music before the
Water Music or the Brandenburg Concertos. In many ways,
Dowland’s position in our musical culture invites comparison with
that occupied by Elgar, born almost 300 years later. They were both
outsiders denied advancement by the English establishment, whose
gifts were recognised earlier on the Continent than at home. They
were complex and somewhat contradictory personalities, whose
acute sense of melancholy and failure prevented them from enjoying
fame and fortune, and whose inspiration seems to have deserted them
Reception
79
just as they finally achieved the recognition of their compatriots.
Dowland’s music certainly expresses as powerfully as Elgar’s a sense
of melancholy and regret, made the more intense for being expressed
in conventional musical forms and idioms. In an age of instant fame,
relentless fashion and mindless experiment their music speaks to us
with a peculiar eloquence.
Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
80
Notes
1 The document
1 The following account is based on R. Steele, The Earliest English Music
Printing (London, 1903; repr. 1965); J. Kerman, The Elizabethan Madrigal:
A Comparative Study (New York, 1962), 258–67; D. W. Krummel, English
Music Printing 1553–1700 (London, 1975); I. Fenlon and J. Milsom, ‘“Ruled
Paper Imprinted”: Music Paper and Patents in Sixteenth-Century
England’, JAMS37 (1984), 139–63.
2 Steele, The Earliest English Music Printing, 26–7.
3 E. Arber, A Transcript of the Registers of the Company of Stationers of London
1554–1640, III (London, 1876), 94.
4 Steele, The Earliest English Music Printing, 27–8.
5 For Dowland’s continental career, see JD, 30–52; DM, 16–19, 99–105.
6 K. Sparr, ‘Some Unobserved Information about John Dowland, Thomas
Campion and Philip Rosseter’, The Lute 27 (1987), 35–7.
7 JD, 60–1; see also D. Pinto, ‘Dowland’s Tears: Aspects of Lachrimae’, The
Lute 37 (1997), 44–75.
8 JD, 274–5; Arber, A Transcript, III, 228.
9 Arber, A Transcript, III, 258.
10 Krummel, English Music Printing, 47–50.
11 Ibid., 88.
12 Ibid., 107, 110; Krummel’s account is confused at this point: in fig. 39A he
wrongly associates the rhythm shapes used in Lachrimae with Short rather
than Barley.
13 US-Ws, V.b. 280; manuscript formerly in the possession of Robert Spencer,
now in GB-Lam, ff. 12v, 83v; see J. M. Ward, ‘The So-Called “Dowland
Lute Book” in the Folger Shakespeare Library’, JLSA9 (1976), 4–29; idem,
Music for Elizabethan Lutes (Oxford, 1992), I, 52; there are facsimiles in A.
Rooley, ‘John Dowland and English Lute Music’, EM 3 (1975), 117; The
Board Lute Book, ed. R. Spencer (Leeds, 1976).
81
14 The First Set of Songs in Four Parts, Composed by John Dowland, ed. W. Chap-
pell (London, 1844), 2; Catalogue of the Music Library of Edward Francis
Rimbault, ed. A. Hyatt King (Buren, 1975).
15 M. Dowling, ‘The Printing of John Dowland’s Second Booke of Ayres’, The
Library, 4th series, 12 (1932), 365–80; see JD, 246–7; Kerman, The Elizabe-
than Madrigal, 262–3.
16 Edwards, 1; the date has been removed from the Performers’ Facsimile
edition of the British Library copy.
17 W. A. Jackson, Records of the Court of the Stationers’ Company, 1602–40
(London, 1957), 19, 39–40.
18 The modern edition, Canzonets to Five and Sixe Voices 1597, ed. E. Fellowes,
rev. S. Dunkley, The English Madrigalists 3 (London, 2/1977), does not
include the lute part; see Kerman, The Elizabethan Madrigal, 165–9.
19 There is a facsimile in Grove 6, XVII, 715; see J. Noble, ‘Le répertoire
instrumental anglais: 1550–1585’, La musique instrumentale de la Renais-
sance, ed. J. Jacquot (Paris, 1954), 91–114; W. Edwards, ‘The Sources of
Elizabethan Consort Music’, Ph.D. thesis (University of Cambridge (1974),
I, 90–7. Edwards’s suggestion that the manuscript is in the hand of Clement
Woodcock is rejected in R. Ford, ‘Clement Woodcock’s Appointment at
Canterbury Cathedral’, Chelys 16 (1987), 36–43.
20 S. F. Pogue, Jacques Moderne: Lyons Music Printer of the Sixteenth Century
(Geneva, 1969), 74–9; Krummel, The Earliest Music Printing, 106.
21 A. Orologio, Canzonette a tre voci, ed. F. Colussi, Opera omnia 1 (Udine,
1993).
22 A. Holborne, Music for Cittern, ed. M. Kanazawa, Complete Works 2 (Cam-
bridge, Mass., 1973), especially the facsimile on p. 7.
23 ‘Morley’s Consort’ and ‘Rosseters Consort’ are listed among the ‘Musick
Bookes in folio’ in J. Playford, A Catalogue of all the Musick-Bookes that have
been Printed in England, either for Voyce or Instruments (London, [1653]),
reproduced in L. Coral, ‘A John Playford Advertisement’, RMARC 5
(1965), 1–12; see T. Morley, The First Book of Consort Lessons, ed. S. Beck
(New York, 1959); I. Harwood, ‘Rosseter’s Lessons for Consort of 1609’, LSJ
7 (1965), 15–23.
24 I am grateful to Ian Harwood for this information.
25 I am grateful to Alison Crum and Richard Rastall for advice on this point.
26 W. Edwards, ‘The Performance of Ensemble Music in Elizabethan
England’, PRMA97 (1970–71), 113–23; see also P. Doe, ‘The Emergence of
the In Nomine: Some Notes and Queries on the Work of Tudor Church
Musicians’, Modern Musical Scholarship, ed. E. Olleson (Stocksfield, 1978),
79–92; I. Woodfield, The Early History of the Viol (Cambridge, 1984),
Notes to pages 6–9
82
216–19; R. Rastall, ‘Spatial Effects in English Instrumental Consort Music,
c1560–1605’, EM25 (1997), 269–88. David Pinto has recently pointed out
that the title of Add. MS 31390 was added several decades after most of the
contents, and is therefore of questionable value as evidence of performance
practice; see ‘Purcell’s In Nomines: A Tale of Two Manuscripts (perhaps
Three)’, Chelys 25 (1996/7), 103–4.
27 O. H. Mies, ‘Elizabethan Music Prints in an East-Prussian Castle’, MD 3
(1949), 171–2; one of these copies was subsequently owned by Robert
Spencer, see Edwards, 1.
28 A. Holborne, Pavans, Galliards, Almains 1599, ed. B. Thomas (London,
1980).
29 The entry ‘Dowlands fift Booke’ among the ‘Musick Bookes in folio’ in Play-
ford, A Catalogue, is probably a reference to Lachrimae.
30 JD, 86.
2 The instruments
1 Recent studies of this subject are Woodfield, The Early History of the Viol; K.
Polk, German Instrumental Music of the Late Middle Ages (Cambridge, 1992);
Fiddlers, ch. 1; Polk, ‘Innovation in Instrumental Music 1450–1520: The Role
of German Performers within European Culture’, Music in the German Renais-
sance: Sources, Styles, and Contexts, ed. J. Kmetz (Cambridge, 1994), 202–14.
2 Fiddlers, 58–87.
3 Ibid., 123–7.
4 Edwards, ‘The Sources’, I, 50; see also Fiddlers, 127.
5 Fiddlers, 128–9.
6 Ibid., 132–9, contains a survey of the mixed consort and its sources.
7 C. Butler, The Principles of Musik in Singing and Setting (London, 1636), 94.
8 A. Gurr, The Shakespearean Stage 1574–1642 (Cambridge, 1970), 19; J.
Limon, Gentlemen of a Company: English Players in Central and Eastern
Europe, 1590–1660 (Cambridge, 1985), 4–6.
9 P. E. Mueller, ‘The Influence and Activities of English Musicians on the
Continent during the Late Sixteenth and Early Seventeenth Centuries’,
Ph.D. diss., Indiana University (1954), 2, 9.
10 W. Brade, Newe außerlesene Paduanen, Galliarden (Hamburg, 1609), ed. B.
Thomas (London, 1982); idem, Newe außerlesene Paduanen und Galliarden
(Hamburg, 1614), ed. Thomas (London, 1992); T. Simpson, Opusculum
neuwer Pavanen (Frankfurt, 1610), ed. H. Mönkemeyer (Celle, 1987); idem,
Opus newer Paduanen (Hamburg, 1617), ed. Thomas (London, 1997); idem,
Taffel-Consort (Hamburg, 1621), ed. Thomas (London, 1988).
Notes to pages 9–17
83
11 Außerlesener Paduanen und Galliarden Erster Theil (Hamburg, 1607), ed. H.
Mönkemeyer (Celle, 1986); Ander Theil Außerlesener lieblicher Paduanen
(Hamburg, 1609), ed. Mönkemeyer (Celle, 1986); W. Brade, Newe Außer-
lesene liebliche Branden (Hamburg and Lübeck, 1617), ed. B. Thomas
(London, 1974); E. H. Meyer, Die mehrstimmige Spielmusik des 17. Jahrhun-
derts in Nord- und Mitteleuropa (Kassel, 1934), 235.
12 M. Praetorius, Syntagma musicum II: De Organographia Parts I and II, ed.
D. Z. Crookes (Oxford, 1986), 52; see also Fiddlers, 19, 168.
13 M. Riley, ‘The Teaching of Bowed Instruments from 1511 to 1756’, Ph.D.
diss., University of Michigan (1954); Woodfield, The Early History of the
Viol, 104–17, 140–54, 199–201; Fiddlers, 21–7.
14 B. Lee, ‘Giovanni Maria Lanfranco’s Scintille di musica and its Relation to
Sixteenth-Century Music Theory’, Ph.D. diss., Cornell University (1961),
252–3, 259–60.
15 See D. Boyden, ‘The Tenor Violin: Myth, Mystery, or Misnomer?’ in W.
Gerstenberg, J. La Rue and W. Rehm, eds., Festschrift Otto Erich Deutsch
(Kassel, 1963), 273–9; for Zacconi, see idem, ‘Monteverdi’s Violini Piccoli
alla Francese and Viole da Brazzo’, Annales musicologiques 6 (1958–63), 393;
idem, The History of Violin Playing from its Origins to 1761 (London, 1965),
42–3; for Hitzler, see Riley, ‘The Teaching of Bowed Instruments’, 239–41;
E. Segerman, ‘Hizler’s [sic] Tenor Violin’, FoMRHIQ27 (April 1982), 38.
16 Praetorius, Syntagma musicum, ed. Crookes, 39.
17 Mersenne, Harmonie universelle: The Books on Instruments, trans. R. E.
Chapman (The Hague, 1957), 238, 244.
18 H. L. Hassler, Lustgarten neuer teutscher Gesäng (1601), ed. C. R. Crosby,
Sämliche Werke 9 (Wiesbaden, 1968).
19 A. Orologio, Intradae Quinque et Sex Vocibus Liber Primus, ed. G. Perisan,
Opera omnia 7 (Udine, 1995).
20 C. Wool, ‘A Critical Edition and Historical Commentary of Kassel 4° MS Mus.
125’, M. Mus. diss., London (1983); Moritz Landgraf of Hessen, The Kassel
Pavan Collection: I , ed. B. Thomas (London, 1994); see Fiddlers, 157–63.
21 Eight Short Elizabethan Dance Tunes, ed. P. Warlock (London, 1924); C.
Monson, Voices and Viols in England, 1600–1650: The Sources and the Music
(Ann Arbor, Mich., 1982), 159–79.
22 For chiavette and the transposition of instrumental music, see P. Barbieri,
‘Chiavette and Modal Transposition in Italian Practice (c. 1500–1837)’,
Recercare 3 (1991), 5–79; P. Van Heyghen, ‘The Recorder in Italian Music,
1600–1700’, The Recorder in the Seventeenth Century: Proceedings of the
International Recorder Symposium, Utrecht 1993, ed. D. Lasocki (Utrecht,
1995), 3–63, especially 24–6, 58.
Notes to pages 17–20
84
23 See especially D. Abbott and E. Segerman, ‘Strings in the Sixteenth and
Seventeenth Centuries’, GSJ 27 (1974), 48–73; S. Bonta, ‘Further
Thoughts on the History of Strings’, The Catgut Acoustical Society Newslet-
ter 26 (November 1976), 21–6; idem, ‘From Violone to Violoncello: A Ques-
tion of Strings?’ JAMIS 3 (1977), 64–99; idem, ‘Catline Strings Revisited’,
JAMIS 14 (1988), 38–60; M. Peruffo, ‘New Hypothesis on the Construc-
tion of Bass Strings for Lutes and other Gut-Strung Instruments’,
FoMRHIQ 62 ( January 1991), 22–36; idem, ‘On Venice Catlins, Lyons,
Pistoy-Basses and Loaded-Weighted Bass Gut Strings’, FoMRHIQ 76
( July 1994), 72–84; Segerman, ‘Gut Stringing for Lutes’, Lute News 45
(March 1998), 13–18.
24 Praetorius, Syntagma musicum, ed. Crookes, 52–3.
25 The most recent and authoritative study is B. Haynes, ‘Pitch Standards in
the Baroque and Classical Period’, Ph.D. thesis, Université de Montréal
(1995).
26 I. Harwood, ‘A Case of Double Standards? Instrumental Pitch in England c.
1600’, EM9 (1981), 470–81.
27 Ed. P. Doe, MB 44 (London, 1979), nos. 48–50.
28 W. Byrd, Keyboard Music: II, MB 28 (London, 2/1976), no. 54; J. P. Swee-
linck, Keyboard Works (Settings of Secular Tunes and Dances), ed. F. Noske,
Opera omnia – Editio altera 3 (Amsterdam, 2/1974), no. 10; GB-Lbl, Add.
MSS 17786–91, f. 14; GB-Eu, La.III.483, pp. 184, 202; GB-Lbl, Add. MS
33933, f. 86; Morley, Consort Lessons, ed. Beck, no. 7; see Fiddlers, 136–8, for
arguments that the top parts of mixed consorts were primarily intended for
the violin rather than the treble viol.
29 O. Vecchi, Arie, Canzonette e Balli, ed. O. Chilesotti (Milan, 1892; repr.
1968), 34–8.
30 W. Salmen, Musikleben im 16. Jahrhundert, Musikgeschichte in Bildern
III/9 (Leipzig, 1976), 161; Fiddlers, 117 and pl. 3b.
31 For lute stringing and tuning, see D. Poulton, ‘Lute Stringing in the Light of
the Surviving Tablatures’, LSJ 6 (1964), 14–24; JD, 341, 456–7; Ward,
Music for Elizabethan Lutes, I, 25–8.
32 F. Caroso, Nobiltà di dame, ed. J. Sutton and F. M. Walker (Oxford, 1986).
33 The viol parts mentioned on the title-page do not seem to survive, and may
never have been published.
34 P. Holman, ‘“Evenly, Softly, and Sweetly Acchording to All”: The Organ
Accompaniment of English Consort Music’, John Jenkins and his Time:
Studies in English Consort Music, ed. A. Ashbee and Holman (Oxford, 1996),
353–82; L. U. Mortensen, ‘ ‘‘Unerringly Tasteful”?: Harpsichord Continuo
in Corelli’s op. 5 Sonatas’, EM24 (1996), 665–79.
Notes to pages 20–4
85
35 Edited in Morley, Consort Lessons, ed. Beck, no. 6.
36 Harwood, ‘A Case of Double Standards’, 477–8.
3 The dance types
1 J. Ward, ‘The Maner of Dauncying’, EM 4 (1976), 139, 142; see also Calen-
dar of Letters, Despatches, and State Papers, Relating to the Negotiations
between England and Spain, Preserved at the Archives at Simancas and Else-
where 2, ed. G. A. Bergenroth (London, 1866), 445.
2 T. Arbeau, Orchesography, trans. C. W. Beaumont (London, 1925); see also
B. Thomas and J. Gingell, The Renaissance Dance Book (London, 1987).
3 T. Morley, A Plain and Easy Introduction to Practical Music, ed. R. A.
Harman (London, 2/1963), 296–7.
4 R. Hudson, The Allemande, the Balletto, and the Tanz (Cambridge, 1986).
5 See, for instance, Thomas and Gingell, The Renaissance Dance Book, 108–14;
Italian Dances of the Early Sixteenth Century, ed. M. Morrow, Dance Music
of the Middle Ages and Renaissance 1 (London, 1976).
6 See J. Ward, ‘And Who but Ladie Greensleeves’, The Well Enchanting Skill:
Essays in Honour of Frederick W. Sternfeld, ed. J. Caldwell, E. Olleson and S.
Wollenberg (Oxford, 1990), 181–211.
7 Arbeau, Orchesography, 58–9; Hudson, The Allemande, the Balletto, and the
Tanz; W. Byrd, Keyboard Music: I, ed. A. Brown, MB 27 (London, 2/1976),
no. 21a; Morley, Consort Lessons, ed. Beck, no. 22.
8 The Fitzwilliam Virginal Book, ed. J. A. Fuller Maitland and W. Barclay
Squire (London and Leipzig, 1894–9; repr. 1963), no. 85; see also, P.
Dirksen, The Keyboard Music of Jan Pieterzoon Sweelinck (Utrecht, 1997),
297–308; Fiddlers, 144–6.
9 GB-Lbl, Royal Appendix MSS 74–6; complete edition in Elizabethan
Consort Music: I, ed. P. Doe, MB 44 (London, 1979), nos. 76–111, App.
1–22; see Fiddlers, 90–103.
10 H. M. Brown, Embellishing Sixteenth-Century Music (London, 1976) is a
useful introduction to the subject.
11 See A. Rooley and J. Tyler, ‘The Lute Consort’, LSJ 14 (1972), 13–24; there
is a selection from the Holmes manuscripts in Music for Mixed Consort, ed.
W. Edwards, MB 40 (London, 1977), nos. 16–27.
12 Tudor Keyboard Music c1520–1580, ed. J. Caldwell, MB 66 (London, 1995),
nos. 39–44; reconstructed four-part consort versions are in Seven Dances
from the Court of Henry VIII, ed. P. Holman (Corby, 1983); see Fiddlers, 68–9.
13 J. d’Estrée, Premier Livre de Danseries 1559, ed. B. Thomas (London, 1991);
C. Cunningham, ‘Estienne du Tertre, scavant Musicien, Jean d’Estrée,
Notes to pages 24–30
86
joueur de hautbois du Roy, and the Mid-Sixteenth Century Franco-Flemish
Chanson and Ensemble Dance’, Ph.D. diss., Bryn Mawr College (1969).
14 London, British Library MS Egerton 3665 (‘The Tregian Manuscript’), ed.
F. A. D’Accone, Renaissance Music in Facsimile 7 (New York, 1988), II,
ff. 514–523; see Fiddlers, 148–55.
15 W. Byrd, My Ladye Nevells Booke of Virginal Music, ed. H. Andrews
(London, 1926; repr. 1969), nos. 10–21, 24–5, 39–40; I. Harwood, ‘Ros-
seter’s Lessons for Consort of 1609’, LSJ 7 (1965), 15–23.
16 See Fiddlers, 164–8.
17 Ibid., 145–8.
18 A point made by Bernard Thomas in Simpson, Taffel-Consort, iv.
19 Elizabethan Consort Music: I, ed. Doe, no. 101; the attribution to Innocent
comes from the Quintus of the galliard, which Doe prints separately as App. 3.
20 The Dublin Virginal Book, ed. J. M. Ward (London, 1983), no. 5; Kerman,
The Elizabethan Madrigal, 91–2; Fiddlers, 151–2.
21 Music for Mixed Consort, ed. Edwards, no. 30; Wool, ‘A Critical Edition’, II,
no. 34.
22 Elizabethan Consort Music: I, ed. Doe, nos. 83–5, 106.
23 For example, ibid., no. 109; The Dublin Virginal Book, ed. Ward, no. 3;
Tisdale’s Virginal Book, ed. A. Brown (London, 1966), no. 6.
24 A. Bassano, Pavans and Galliards in Five Parts, ed. P. Holman (London,
1981), no. 1.
25 Morley, Consort Lessons, ed. Beck, no. 13; Wool, ‘A Critical Edition’, II, no.
20.
26 Music for Mixed Consort, ed. Edwards, no. 29; Wool, ‘A Critical Edition’, II,
nos. 4, 35, 36, 40 and 48.
27 The Tregian Manuscript, ed. D’Accone, ff. 517v–519; T. Tomkins, Consort
Music, ed. J. Irving, MB 59, no. 26; see Fiddlers, 150–1.
28 Morley, A Plain and Easy Introduction, ed. Harman, 249.
29 The Works of Thomas Campion, ed. W. R. Davis (London, 1969), 319–56.
30 A-Wn, MS 17771, f. 221v; see G. Hendrie, ‘The Keyboard Music of Orlando
Gibbons’, PRMA 89 (1962–3), 1–15; H. Ferguson, Keyboard Interpretation
(London, 1975), 105–9; D. Wulstan, Tudor Music (London, 1985), 118–20.
31 The Principles of Musik, 83.
32 Elizabethan Consort Music: I, ed. Doe, no. 82.
4 The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’
1 See the lists in JD, 487–8, 500–1, 505–6; DM, 60–1, 75–6, 80; Dirksen,
Sweelinck, 308.
Notes to pages 31–6
87
2 CLM, no. 15; for Holmes, see I. Harwood, ‘The Origins of the Cambridge
Lute Manuscripts’, LSJ 5 (1963), 32–48. Robert Spencer suggested to me
that the version in the Board Manuscript, ff. 11v–12, was corrected by
Dowland himself; see the facsimile edition, ed. Spencer.
3 JD, 126; R. Spencer, ‘Dowland’s Dance Songs: Those of his Compositions
which Exist in Two Versions, Songs and Instrumental Dances’, Concert des
voix et des instruments à la renaissance: Actes du colloque organisé en 1991 par Le
Centre d’Etudes Supérieures de la Renaissance, Université François-Rabelais,
Tours (Paris, 1995), 587–99; see also E. Doughtie, English Renaissance Song
(Boston, 1986), 128.
4 JD, 126–7.
5 Fiddlers, 160.
6 This discussion is indebted to L. Pike, Expression and the Evolution of
Musical Language (forthcoming), ch. 6.
7 G. Zarlino, On the Modes: Part Four of ‘Le istitutioni harmoniche’, 1558, trans.
V. Cohen, ed. C. Palisca (New Haven and London, 1983), 81–3.
8 O. Mies, ‘Dowland’s Lachrimae Tune’, MD 4 (1950), 59–64; JD, 125–6.
9 R. Henning, ‘A Possible Source of Lachrimae’, LSJ 16 (1974), 65–7.
10 DM, 61, 82.
11 Pike, Expression and the Evolution of Musical Language; E. Rosand, ‘The
Descending Tetrachord: An Emblem of Lament’, MQ65 (1979), 346–59.
12 CLM, nos. 2, 3; see D. Hofmann, ‘The Chromatic Fourth’, The Consort 26
(1970), 445–58; P. Williams, The Chromatic Fourth during Four Centuries of
Music (Oxford, 1997), 7–37.
13 Pinto, ‘Dowland’s Tears’; O. Lassus, The Seven Penitential Psalms and
Laudate Domine de caelis, ed. P. Berquist (Madison, Wisc., 1990), 10–11.
14 Luca Marenzio Opera Omnia V, ed. B. Meier, CMM 72 ([Stuttgart], 1983),
26–31; A. Obertello, Madrigali italiani in Inghilterra (Milan, 1949), 135–6, a
reference brought to my attention by David Pinto.
15 A. Rooley, ‘New Light on John Dowland’s Songs of Darkness’, EM 11
(1983), 6–21.
16 A. Newcomb, The Madrigal at Ferrara 1579–1597 (Princeton, 1980), II,
170–7.
17 Kerman, The Elizabethan Madrigal, 40–72; Morley, A Plain and Easy Intro-
duction, ed. Harman, 294.
18 Morley, A Plain and Easy Introduction, ed. Harman, 290–1.
19 R. H. Wells, Elizabethan Mythologies: Studies in Poetry, Drama and Music
(Cambridge, 1994), 86–8.
20 R. Toft, Tune thy Musicke to thy Hart: The Art of Eloquent Singing in England
1597–1622 (Toronto, 1993), 4.
Notes to pages 36–44
88
21 In particular, R. Spencer, ‘Performance Style of the English Lute Ayre
c. 1600’, The Lute 24 (1984), 55–68; R. Toft, Tune thy Musicke to thy Hart;
S. M. Pauly, ‘Rhetoric and the Performance of Seventeenth-Century
English Continuo Song’, D.M.A. diss., Stanford University (1995).
22 Toft, Tune thy Musicke to thy Hart, 26–41; see also W. Taylor, Tudor Figures
of Rhetoric (Whitewater, Wisc., 1972), 78–9; D. Bartel, Musica poetica:
Musical-Rhetorical Figures in German Baroque Music (Lincoln, Nebr., and
London, 1997), 179–80, 220–4.
23 Toft, Tune thy Musicke to thy Hart, 33–4.
24 Ibid., 82; Bartel, Musica poetica, 180.
25 Toft, Tune thy Musicke to thy Hart, 43; see also Taylor, Tudor Figures of Rhet-
oric, 117–18.
26 Toft, Tune thy Musicke to thy Hart, 46.
27 Simpson, Opusculum neuwer Pavanen, ed. Mönkemeyer, no. 3.
28 R. Rastall, The Heaven Singing: Music in Early English Religious Drama, I
(Cambridge, 1996), 234; Pinto, ‘Dowland’s Tears’; Pike, Expression and the
Evolution of Musical Language.
29 Kerman, The Elizabethan Madrigal, 6–7.
30 C. Tye, English Sacred Music, ed. J. Morehen, EECM 19 (London, 1977),
99–124; T. Morley, English Anthems, Liturgical Music, ed. J. Morehen,
EECM 38 (London, 1991), 11–23; T. Weelkes, Collected Anthems, ed. D.
Brown, W. Collins and P. Le Huray, MB 23 (London, 2/1975), no. 18; see P.
Le Huray, Music and the Reformation in England 1549–1660 (London, 1967),
204, 251, 304–5.
31 Edited in Jacobean Consort Music, ed. T. Dart and W. Coates, MB 9
(London, 2/1966), nos. 62, 63.
32 M. E. Lange, Telling Tears in the English Renaissance, Studies in the History
of Christian Thought 70 (Leiden, New York, Cologne, 1996), 39.
33 J. Donne, The Divine Poems, ed. H. Gardner (Oxford, 2/1978), 13.
34 Lange, Telling Tears, 129–47.
35 P. Warlock, The English Ayre (London, 1926), 39; E. H. Meyer, Early English
Chamber Music (London, 2/1982), 131–3; JD, 342–56; Edwards, 2.
36 Rooley, ‘New Light’, 19; R. H. Wells, ‘John Dowland and Elizabethan
Melancholy’, EM13 (1985), 514–28, revised as ‘Dowland, Ficino and Eliza-
bethan Melancholy’, Elizabethan Mythologies, 189–207.
37 ‘Dowland’s Tears’ and personal communication.
38 St. Augustine’s Confessions with an English Translation by William Watts 1631, ed.
W. H. D. Rouse (Cambridge, Mass., and London, 1912; repr. 1977), II, 146–7.
39 JD, 28; Library of Hatfield House, C. P. 173, ff. 91–92
v
, there is a moder-
nised transcription in JD, 37–40.
Notes to pages 44–49
89
40 R. Burton, The Anatomy of Melancholy, ed. T. C. Faulkner, N. K. Kiessling
and R. L. Blair (Oxford, 1989–94).
41 L. Babb, The Elizabethan Malady: A Study of Melancholia in English Litera-
ture from 1580 to 1642 (East Lansing, Mich., 1951), 184–5.
42 Burton, The Anatomy of Melancholy, ed. Faulkner, Kiessling and Blair, I,
74–5.
43 See in particular, Babb, The Elizabethan Malady, 1–72.
44 GB-Lbl, Add. MS 27579, f. 88; see JD, 60, 399 and illus. 6b.
45 JD, 215, 343.
46 L. A. Austern, ‘Nature, Culture, Myth and the Musician in Early Modern
England’, JAMS51 (1998), 36.
47 Burton, The Anatomy of Melancholy, ed. Faulkner, Kiessling and Blair, II,
112–14, 116.
48 Toft, Tune the Musicke to thy Hart, 21, 44; Bartel, Musica Poetica, 334–9.
49 D. Leech-Wilkinson, ‘My Lady’s Tears: A Pair of Songs by John Dowland’,
EM19 (1991), 227–33; see also the reply by David Pinto, ‘Dowland’s Lach-
rymal Airs’, EM20 (1992), 525.
50 Burton, The Anatomy of Melancholy, ed. Faulkner, Kiessling and Blair, III,
330–445.
51 Ibid., III, 197, 413–14.
52 Babb, The Elizabethan Malady, 73–101.
53 Ibid., 80.
54 A point made in Pike, Expression and the Evolution of Musical Language.
55 Bartel, Musica poetica, 394–7.
56 Burton, The Anatomy of Melancholy, ed. Faulkner, Kiessling and Blair, I, 400.
57 Babb, The Elizabethan Malady, 64.
58 Burton, The Anatomy of Melancholy, ed. Faulkner, Kiessling and Blair, III, 29.
59 Babb, The Elizabethan Malady, 178–80: J. Milton, Poetical Works, II, ed. H.
Darbishire (Oxford, 1955), 142–6.
60 JD, 355–6, relates the passage to bb. 13–14 of ‘I saw my Lady weepe’, but the
relevant chord there is 6
¸
–3
¡
rather than 6
,
–3
¡
.
5 ‘Divers other Pavans, Galiards, and Almands’
1 Il nuovo Vogel: Bibliografia della musica italiana vocale profana, ed. F. Lesure
and C. Sartori (Geneva, 1977–83), 999–1035.
2 R. Tatlow, Bach and the Riddle of the Number Alphabet (Cambridge, 1991),
especially 33; I owe this idea to Tim Carter.
3 J. H. Schein, Banchetto musicale 1617, ed. B. Thomas (London, 1993).
4 Wool, ‘A Critical Edition’, II, no. 49.
Notes to pages 50–63
90
5 A point made in Pinto, ‘Dowland’s Tears’.
6 Edwards, 2.
7 The Diary of John Manningham, ed. R. P. Sorlien (Hanover, NH, 1976), 150;
JD, 119–20; St Augustine’s Confessions with an English Translation by William
Watts 1631, I, 40–1.
8 Toft, Tune thy Musicke to thy Hart, 47–8, 167.
9 CLM, no. 9; JD, 120.
10 GB-Ge, R.d.43, f. 25; MS in the possession of Lord Forester, f. 14v; I am
grateful to Matthew Spring for advice on this point.
11 For Unton, see R. Strong, ‘Sir Henry Unton and his Portrait: An Elizabethan
Memorial Picture and its History’, Archaeologia 99 (1965), 53–76; JD, 431–3;
A. Rooley, ‘A Portrait of Sir Henry Unton’, Companion to Mediaeval and Ren-
aissance Music, ed. T. Knighton and D. Fallows (Oxford, 2/1997), 85–92.
12 Edwards, 3; A. Holborne, Music for Lute and Bandora, The Complete Works
1 (Cambridge, Mass., 1967), no. 13.
13 JD, 414.
14 G. Zarlino, On the Modes, trans. Cohen, ed. Palisca, 67, 85.
15 CLM, nos. 14, 14a.
16 Notes to P. O’Dette, John Dowland: Complete Lute Works 3, Harmonia
Mundi HMU 907162; see, for instance, CLM, nos. 5, 17, 18.
17 JD, 359.
18 CLM, nos. 23, 95.
19 Ibid., no. 42; see Spencer, ‘Dowland’s Dance-Songs’, 595–9.
20 Doughtie, English Renaissance Song, 129–31; see also JD, 226–30.
21 DM, 73–4.
22 D. Poulton, ‘Captain Digory Piper of the Sweepstake’, LSJ 4 (1962), 17–22;
JD, 423–5; DM, 60.
23 CLM, no. 19.
24 Ibid., no. 34.
25 E. B. Jorgens, The Well-Tun’d Word: Musical Interpretations of English
Poetry 1597–1651 (Minneapolis, 1982), 150–1; see also JD, 296–7.
26 Arbeau, Orchesography, ed. Beaumont, 94; see JD, 149.
27 JD, 421–2.
28 Ibid., 145–6, 223–4; DM, 63–4.
29 CLM, no. 26; JD, 429.
30 DM, 64–5, 82–4; see also Edwards, 3.
31 Byrd, Keyboard Music: II, ed. Brown, nos. 54, 55; GB-Lbl, Add. MSS
17786–91, nos. 30, 31; Eight Short Elizabethan Dances, ed. Fellowes, no. 1;
see, for instance, ‘Galliard Can she excuse and may serve to Lacrimae’,
Tisdale’s Virginal Book, ed. Brown, no. 7; CLM, no. 46.
Notes to pages 63–70
91
32 CLM, no. 29.
33 French Chansons of the Sixteenth Century, ed. J. A. Bernstein (University
Park, Penn., and London, 1985), no. 26; CLM, no. 91; Erster Theil, ed.
Mönkemeyer, 41; CLM, no. 38; see also DM, 28–9.
34 Fiddlers, 151.
35 DM, 81.
36 JD, 138–42; DM, 61–2; Byrd, Keyboard Music: II, ed. Brown, no. 94; J. Bull,
Keyboard Music: II, ed. T. Dart, MB 19 (London, 1970), no. 108.
37 CLM, nos. 33, 20, 39.
38 The Principles of Musik, 2.
39 CLM, no. 40.
40 Mr William Shakespeare’s Comedies, Histories, & Tragedies (1623; repr.
1954); see also C. Dollerup, Denmark, Hamlet and Shakespeare: A Study of
Englishmen’s Knowledge of Denmark towards the End of the Sixteenth Century
with Special Reference to Hamlet (Salzburg, 1975), 122–7.
41 JD, 408.
42 CLM, no. 52; V. Haussmann, Ausgewählte Instrumentalwerke, ed. F. Boels-
che, DDT, series 1, 16 (Leipzig, 1904), 133.
43 JD, 371; R. M. Wilson, Anglican Chant and Chanting in England, Scotland
and America 1660–1820 (Oxford, 1996), especially ch. 3.
44 JD, 435–6.
6 Reception
1 Simpson, Opusculum, ed. Mönkemeyer, 7–8, 32–5; Fiddlers, 253–5.
2 Simpson, Opusculum, ed. Mönkemeyer, 16–17; CCM, nos. 25, 26, 24, 27.
3 For sources, see JD, 488; DM, 60–1; Dirksen, Sweelinck, 308; Sweelinck,
Keyboard Works, ed. Noske, no. 10; Lied- und Tanzvariationen der Sweelinck-
Schule, ed. W. Breig (Mainz, 1970), nos. 6, 7.
4 Dirksen, Sweelinck, 31–2, 651–2; Lied- und Tanzvariationen, ed. Breig, no. 4;
S. Scheidt, Unedierte Kompositionen für Tasteninstrumente, ed. C. Mahren-
holz, Werke 5 (Hamburg, 1957), 31–4.
5 S. Scheidt, Ludi musici prima pars (1621), ed. B. Thomas (London, 1996),
36–9.
6 T. Weelkes, Five-Part Pavans, ed. G. Hunter (Urbana, Ill., 1985), no. 2; Cam-
bridge Consorts: Pavans and Galliards in Five Parts, ed. I. Payne (St Albans,
1991), no. 19; Tomkins, Consort Music, ed. Irving, no. 29; Außerlesener, Padu-
anen und Galliarden Erster Theil, ed. Mönkemeyer, 6–7; Brade, Pavans and
Galliards (1614), ed. Thomas, 1–2; Simpson, Opusculum neuwer Paduanen,
ed. Mönkemeyer, 28–31; Schein, Banchetto musicale, ed. Thomas, 28–9, 107.
Notes to pages 70–6
92
7 T. Morley, Keyboard Works, ed. T. Dart (London, 1959), nos. 5, 6; O.
Gibbons, Keyboard Music, ed. G. Hendrie, MB 20 (London, 1962), nos. 17,
18, 16.
8 W. Lawes, The Royall Consort (Old Consort), ed. D. Pinto (London, 1995),
104–5; idem, Consort Sets in Five and Six Parts, ed. Pinto (London, 1979),
30–2; idem, Fantasia Suites, ed. Pinto, MB 60 (London, 1991), no. 15a; J.
Jenkins, Consort Music of Four Parts, ed. A. Ashbee, MB 26 (London, 1969),
no. 57; J. Schop, Paduanen, Allmanden sowie eine Galliarde und eine Canzone
zu 4 Stimmen, ed. D. Hagge (Zurich, 1982), 23–5.
9 ’t Uitnement Kabinet VIII, ed. R. Rasch (Amsterdam, 1978), 21–8.
10 T. Crawford, ‘“L’Amant malheureux”: S. L. Weiss and French Music’,
paper read to the 1995 Royal Musical Association conference.
11 R. van Baak Griffioen, Jacob van Eyck’s Der fluyten lust-hof (Utrecht, 1991),
75, 138–40, 149–52, 179–81, 249–53; for Joseph Butler, see Dutch Keyboard
Music of the 16
th
and 17
th
Centuries, ed. A. Curtis, Monumenta musica Neer-
landica 3 (Amsterdam, 1961), xvii–xix.
12 Baak Griffioen, Der fluyten lust-hof, 179–81; see also, JD, 490–1; DM, 67–8.
13 J. Hawkins, A General History of the Science and Practice of Music (London,
1853; repr. 1963), 481–3; C. Burney, A General History of Music, ed. F.
Mercer (London, 1935; repr. 1957), II, 117.
14 Pye CCL 30121; The World’s Encyclopaedia of Recorded Music, ed. F. F.
Clough and G. J. Cuming, I (Colwyn Bay, 1950), lists an undated recording
of ‘Langton’, ‘Denmark’, ‘Collier’, ‘Essex’, ‘Noel’, ‘Whitehead’ and
‘Nichol’ by a New York string orchestra directed by Max Goberman on the
General label.
15 L’Oiseau Lyre OL50163 / OLS164.
16 Harmonia Mundi HM30623; L’Oiseau Lyre Florilegium, DSLO 517, reis-
sued on CD in John Dowland: The Collected Works, L’Oiseau Lyre 452
563–2; BIS CD 315; Auvidis Fontalis ES 8701; Virgin VC5 45005; Amon Ra
CD-SAR55; Naxos 8.553326; Hyperion CDA66639.
Notes to pages 77–9
93
Select bibliography
For editions of music, see the Preface and Abbreviations
Arbeau, T. Orchesography, trans. C. W. Beaumont (London, 1925)
Arber, E. A Transcript of the Registers of the Company of Stationers of London
1554–1640, III (London, 1876)
Baak Griffioen, R. van Jacob van Eyck’s Der fluyten lust-hof (Utrecht, 1991)
Babb, L. The Elizabethan Malady: A Study of Melancholia in English Literature
from 1580 to 1642 (East Lansing, Mich., 1951)
Bartel, D. Musica poetica: Musical-Rhetorical Figures in German Baroque Music
(Lincoln, Nebr., and London, 1997)
Burton, R. The Anatomy of Melancholy, ed. T. C. Faulkner, N. K. Kiessling and
R. L. Blair (Oxford, 1989–94)
Butler, C. The Principles of Musik (London, 1636)
Dirksen, P. The Keyboard Music of Jan Pieterzoon Sweelinck (Utrecht, 1997)
Doughtie, E. English Renaissance Song (Boston, 1986)
Dowling, M. ‘The Printing of John Dowland’s Second Booke of Ayres’, The
Library, 4th series, 12 (1932), 365–80
Edwards, W. ‘The Sources of Elizabethan Consort Music’, Ph.D. thesis, Uni-
versity of Cambridge (1974)
Harwood, I. ‘A Case of Double Standards? Instrumental Pitch in England
c. 1600’, EM9 (1981), 470–81
Holman, P. Four and Twenty Fiddlers: The Violin at the English Court 1540–1690
(Oxford, 1993; 2/1995)
Kerman, J. The Elizabethan Madrigal: A Comparative Study (New York,
1962)
Krummel, D. W. English Music Printing 1553–1700 (London, 1975)
Lange, M. E. Telling Tears in the English Renaissance, Studies in the History of
Christian Thought 70 (Leiden, New York, Cologne, 1996)
Leech-Wilkinson, D. ‘My Lady’s Tears: A Pair of Songs by John Dowland’, EM
19 (1991), 227–33
94
Morley, T. A Plain and Easy Introduction to Practical Music, ed. R. A. Harman
(London, 1952; 2/1963)
Pike, L. Expression and the Evolution of Musical Language (forthcoming)
Pinto, D. ‘Dowland’s Tears: Aspects of Lachrimae’, The Lute 37 (1997), 44–75
Poulton, D. John Dowland (London, 1972; 2/1982)
Rooley, A. ‘New Light on John Dowland’s Songs of Darkness’, EM11 (1983),
6–21
Spencer, R. ‘Dowland’s Dance Songs: Those of his Compositions which Exist
in Two Versions, Songs and Instrumental Dances’, Concert des voix et des
instruments à la renaissance: Actes du colloque organisé en 1991 par Le Centre
d’Etudes Supérieures de la Renaissance, Université François-Rabelais, Tours
(Paris, 1995), 587–99
Taylor, W. Tudor Figures of Rhetoric (Whitewater, Wisc., 1972)
Toft, R. Tune thy Musicke to thy Hart: The Art of Eloquent Singing in England
1597–1622 (Toronto, 1993)
Ward, J. M. A Dowland Miscellany, JLSA 10 (1977)
Music for Elizabethan Lutes (Oxford, 1992)
Wells, R. H. Elizabethan Mythologies: Studies in Poetry, Drama and Music (Cam-
bridge, 1994)
Woodfield, I. The Early History of the Viol (Cambridge, 1984)
Wool, C. ‘A Critical Edition and Historical Commentary of Kassel 4° MS Mus.
125’, M. Mus. diss., University of London (1983)
Zarlino, G. On the Modes: Part Four of ‘Le istitutioni harmoniche’, 1558, trans. V.
Cohen, ed. C. Palisca (New Haven and London, 1983)
Select bibliography
95
Adams, Thomas 5–7
Adriaenssen, Emanuel 8, 23
Alison, Richard 5
Allemande du Prince 29
alta capella 26, 28
anabasis 44–5, 55, 57–8
anaphora 43–4
Anne of Denmark 4, 12, 49
Arbeau, Thoinot 27–9, 69
Aristotle 14, 58
Arundel part-books 29–30, 32
Augustine, Saint 49, 64
auxesis 44–5
Babb, Lawrence 59
Bacheler, Daniel 69
Bacon, Francis 43–4
Barley, William 1–2, 7, 23, 36
Bartlet, John 5, 61
Barton, Andrew 78
Bassano, Augustine 33
basse danse 26–8, 47
‘Belle qui tiens ma vie’ 29
Bergamasca 35
Board Manuscript 6
Bodeck, Hans von 3
Borgia, Lucrezia 14
Boyce, William 78
Brade, William 16–17, 19, 30,
76–7
Brescia 13
Bull, John 16, 34, 72
Burney, Charles 78
Burton, Robert 50–2, 54–6, 58–9
Butler, Charles 15–16, 35, 72–3
Butler, Joseph 77
Byrd, William 1, 22, 29, 31, 70, 72, 76
Camphuysen, Dirk Rafaelszoon 77
Campion, Thomas 34–5, 61
Carleton, Nicholas 61
Caroso, Fabritio 23
Cauleray, Jean 40
Cecil, Sir Robert 2–3, 49
Champernowne, Sir Richard 15
Chappell, William 6, 78
Charles V, emperor 26
choirbook format 8
Christian IV, King of Denmark 3, 16,
19, 72
Consort of Musicke 79
Coprario, John 5
Cosyn, Benjamin 76
Créquillon, Thomas 40
Crofts, Robert 58
Cumberland, George Earl of 69
Cutting, Thomas 3
Dallis lute manuscript 72
Danyel, John 6
Dart, Thurston 79
Day, John 1, 5
Deering, Richard 16
Denmark 3–5, 16–17, 19–20
Denss, Adrian 8
Donne, John 48, 50
Doughtie, Edward 67
Dowland Consort 79
Dowland, John
Andreas Ornithoparcus his Micrologus 6
96
Index
‘Awake sweete love’ 67
‘Can she excuse my wrongs’ 67, 70,
77–8
Catholicism 3, 49
‘Come againe, sweet love doth now
envite’ 77
‘Excuse me’ 78
‘Goe nightly cares’ 23
Farewell fantasia 40
The First Booke of Songes or Ayres
2–3, 6–9, 62
‘Flow my teares’ 22, 36–7, 44–6
Forlorn Hope Fancy 40, 51
Frog Galliard 77
‘From silent night’ 23
Galliard to Lachrimae 70
‘Go christall teares’ 63
‘If my complaints could passions
move’ 68
‘In darknesse let me dwell’ 65
‘I saw my lady weepe’ 54–6
Lachrimae pavan 29, 31, 54, 70, 76
Lachrimae, see separate entry
‘Lady if you so spite me’ 75–6
La mia Barbara pavan 67, 75
Mr. Langton’s Galliard 72
‘Lasso vita mia’ 23
Melancholy Galliard 51
Mignarda 68
‘My thoughts are wingd with hopes’
69
‘Now, O now I needs must part’ 41,
77
A Pilgrimes Solace 23, 68
Piper’s Pavan 63, 75
Queen Elizabeth’s Galliard 69
Round Battle Galliard 72
The Second Booke of Songs or Ayres
5–7, 36–7
‘Shall I strive with wordes to move’
68
Suzanna Galliard 71
The Third and Last Booke of Songs or
Aires 5–6
Viscount Lisle’s Galliard 71
‘Were every thought an eye’ 75
‘Would my conceit that first enforced
my woe’ 41
Dowland Lutebook 6, 67
Dowland, Mrs 5–6
Dowland, Robert 6
Dublin Virginal Book 32, 35
Düsseldorf 22
East, Michael 5, 62
East, Thomas 1–2, 6–7
Eastland, George 6
ecphonesis 46
Edwards, Warwick 9, 48, 63, 65
Elgar, Edward 63, 79–80
Elizabeth I, Queen 1, 3–4, 67
Elizabethan Players 79
Elyot, Sir Thomas 27
English Consort of Viols 79
epizeuxis 53
Essex, the Earl of 67–8
Este, Alfonso d’ 14
Este, Isabella d’ 13–14
Estrée, Jean d’ 30
Euing Lute Book 65
exclamatio 46
Eyck, Jacob van 77–8
fantasia 17, 44
Farnaby, Giles 61, 76
Farrant, Daniel 48
Ferrabosco, Alfonso I 21, 71
Ferrabosco, Alfonso II 48
Ferrara 13–14
Ficino, Marsilio 58
Florence 3
Ford, Thomas 5
Francisque, Antoine 23
Fretwork 79
Füllsack, Zacharius 17, 19, 21
Gabrieli, Giovanni 40
Galen 58
Gallot, Jacques 77
Gay, John 78
Gheeraerts, Marcus 22
Gibbons, Orlando 76–7
Index
97
Glareanus, Heinrich 34, 39
Gonzaga, Francesco, Duke of Mantua
13
Greaves, Thomas 5, 61
Greebe, see Grep
‘Greensleeves’ 29
Grep, Benedictus 16
Gryffith, Nicholas 73
Hagius, Konrad 75
Hamlet 72
Harding, James 69–70
Harwood, Ian 24
Hassler, Hans Leo 19
Haultin, Pierre 5
Haussmann, Valentin 74
Hawkins, Henry 51
Hawkins, Sir John 78
Henning, Rudolf 40
Henry VIII, King 26
Herbert, Anne 65
Hesperion XX 79
Hildebrand, Christian 17, 19, 21
Hitzler, Daniel 18
Hoby, Giles 70
hoftanz 28
Holborne, Anthony
Cittharn Schoole 2, 8
The Funerals pavan 65–6
Pavans, Galliards, Almains 12, 15, 21,
31–3, 35, 62, 67, 76
Holmes, Matthew 30, 36–7, 68
Hoskins, John 45
Hove, Joachim van den 23
Hume, Tobias 5
humours 51
Hunnis, William 47
Innocent of Cremona 32
James I, King 2–4
Jenkins, John 77
Jones, Robert 2, 5, 61
Jonson, Ben 48
Josquin des Pres 40
Kassel 2, 8
Kirbye, George 76
Kircher, Athanasius 45
Lachrimae
Amantis 19–20, 35, 47, 55, 57–60, 73
Antiquae 19–20, 22, 36–42, 44–50,
52–3, 69
Antique Novae 19–20, 46–7, 49,
52–3, 75
Bucton 71
Coactae 19–20, 35, 46, 49, 56–7, 59
Collier 18, 62, 73
date of 5–7
Denmark 20, 71–2, 76
Dolens 19, 51, 62–5
Essex 20, 24, 62–3, 67–8, 70, 75, 77
Gementes 19–20, 35, 46, 53–4, 56, 60
Gryffith 73
Hoby 69–70
Langton 62, 66–7, 75
Nichol 73–5
Noel 20, 62, 68–9
Piper 20, 62–3, 68
Souch 19, 63, 69
Tristes 19–20, 35, 46, 54–9, 64, 73
Unton 19, 35, 62–3, 65–6
Verae 19–20, 47, 59–60, 73
Whitehead 74
Lanfranco, Giovanni Maria 17
Lange, Marjory E. 48
Langton, John 66
Lassus, Orlandus
Psalmi Davidis poenitentiales 40–1, 49
‘Susane un jour’ 71
Lawes, William 77
Leech-Wilkinson, Daniel 54
Le Faucheur, Michel 45
Le Roy, Adrian 23
London Consort of Viols 79
Lucy, Countess of Bedford 5
Lumley part-books, see Arundel
Lupo, Joseph 32, 71
Luther, Martin 55
Lydian mode 66
Lyly, John 69
Index
98
Manningham, John 64
Mantua 13–14
manuscripts
D-Kl, 4° MS mus. 125, 1–5: 19, 31–3,
37, 63
GB-Cfm, Mus. MS 734: 31
GB-Cu, Dd. 2.11: 36–7, 68
GB-Cu, MS Dd. 5.78.3: 69
GB-Lbl, Add. MS 4900: 8
GB-Lbl, Add. MSS 17786–91: 19
GB-Lbl, Add. MS 31390: 8–9
GB-Lbl, MS Hirsch M.1353: 37
GB-Lbl, Royal Appendix MS 58:
30
US-NH, Filmer MS 2: 31
Marchant, Mr 32
Marenzio, Luca 2, 40–3, 61
‘Ahi, dispietata morte’ 41
‘Parto da voi, mio sole’ 41–2
‘Rivi, fontane, e fiumi’ 41–2, 55,
66
Meinert, John 16
Mersenne, Marin 18
Meyer, Ernst 48
Mies, Otto 40
Milton, John 59
mixed consort 15–16
Moderne, Jacques 8
monopoly on printing music 1–2
Monteverdi, Claudio 40, 55
Moritz, Landgrave of Hesse 19, 76
Morley, Thomas
Canzonets or Little Short Aers to Five
and Sixe Voices 2, 8, 61
The First Booke of Ayres 5
The First Booke of Consort Lessons 9,
12, 15, 22, 29
‘O Jesu meeke’ 47–8
A Plaine and Easie Introduction to
Practicall Musicke 2, 27–8, 33–4
Sacred End pavan 32–3, 48
Mouton, Charles 77
Moy, Louis de 23
Munday, Anthony 69
mutatio toni 53–4, 57
Myners, John, see Meinert
Nashe, Thomas 56
neoplatonism 48
Noel, Henry 68–9
Norcombe, Daniel 16
numerology 47, 61–2
Nuremberg 2–3, 28
O’Dette, Paul 67
Oralii, Carolus 16
ornamentation 29–30
Orologio, Alessandro 8, 16, 19
Pacolini, Giovanni 30
Parley of Instruments 79
Parsons, Robert 33
Passacaglia 40
Passamezzo antico 28–9, 35
Passamezzo moderno 28, 35
Peacham, Henry senior 44, 46, 53, 65
Peacham, Henry junior 12, 43–4
Phalèse, Pierre 8
Philips, Peter 16, 29, 31
1580 pavan 31, 33, 65
Dolorosa pavan 33
Philomusica of London 79
Phrygian mode 39
Pike, Lionel 38, 40, 47
Pilkington, Francis 62
Pinto, David 49–50, 64
Piper, Captain Digorie 68
pitch 21–2
Plato 14
Poulton, Diana 37, 40, 48, 63–5, 69,
74
Praetorius, Michael 17–18, 21
Ralegh, Walter 69
Randall, William 76
Ravenscroft, Thomas 6
Reusner, Esias 77
Rimbault, Edward 6
Robinson, Thomas 6, 78
Romanesca 28–9, 35, 40
Rooley, Anthony 48
Rore, Cipriano de 40
Rose Consort 79
Index
99
Rosseter, Philip 61
Lessons for Consort 9, 15, 31
Rude, Johann 37
Sandam, Henry 16
Scheidemann, Heinrich 76
Scheidt, Samuel 25, 76
Schein, Johann Hermann 62, 76
Schildt, Melchior 76
Schlobitten Castle 9
Schola Cantorum Basiliensis 79
Schop, Johann 77
Short, Peter 1–2
Sidney, Sir Robert 71
Siefert, Paul 76
Simpson, Thomas 16–17, 25, 30, 47,
75–6
‘Some Rules and orders for the
Government of an Earle’ 14–15
Souch, Sir John 69
strings 20
Strogers, Nicholas 33
Sweelinck, Jan Pieterszoon 22, 38, 76
tablature 5–6
Tallis, Thomas 1
Tayler, Master 35
tears 48
Tomkins, Thomas 33, 76
tordion 47
Tregian, Francis 31, 33
tunings 17–18, 22–3
Tye, Christopher 47
Unton, Sir Henry 65
Valencian viol 13
Valerius, Adriaen 77
Vallet, Nicolas 77
Vautrollier, Thomas 1, 5
Vecchi, Orazio 22
Victoria, Tomás Luis de 40
villanella 37
Vingt-quatre violons 18
Visée, Robert de 77
voix de ville 37
Wanstead 68
Ward, John 26–7, 40, 68, 71
Warlock, Peter 18, 48, 79
Watson, Thomas 43
Weelkes, Thomas 47, 76
Weiss, Silvius Leopold 77
Weld Lute Book 65
Wells, Robin Headlam 43
Wert, Giaches de 40
Whitehead, George 74
Wigthorpe, William 19, 70
Wilder, van, family 14
‘Will you go walk the woods so wild’
67–8
Winchester 4
Windet, John 5–6
Windsor 26
Wode, Thomas 22
Wolfenbüttel 2
word-painting 43
Zacconi, Lodovico 18
Zarlino, Gioseffo 39, 66
Zouch, Sir John, see Souch
Index
100

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Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)

Peter Holman

Trumpington Street. VIC 3207. Australia http://www.org © Cambridge University Press 1999 This edition © Cambridge University Press (Virtual Publishing) 2003 First published in printed format 1999 A catalogue record for the original printed book is available from the British Library and from the Library of Congress Original ISBN 0 521 58196 6 hardback Original ISBN 0 521 58829 4 paperback ISBN 0 511 02121 6 virtual (eBooks.com Edition) . Cambridge CB2 IRP 40 West 20th Street. USA 477 Williamstown Road. Port Melbourne.PUBLISHED BY CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS (VIRTUAL PUBLISHING) FOR AND ON BEHALF OF THE PRESS SYNDICATE OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE The Pitt Building. New York. NY 10011-4211.cambridge.

In memory of Robert Spencer 1932–1997 .

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Contents Note to the reader Abbreviations Preface page ix x xiii 1 1 2 3 7 13 16 17 20 22 26 26 27 28 28 30 31 33 36 36 40 42 46 50 1 The document English music publishing Dowland’s continental career The publication of Lachrimae The table layout 2 The instruments Lachrimae and the Anglo-German repertory Instrumentation Chiavette and transposition The lute part 3 The dance types The pavan The galliard The almand Composition. arrangement and performance The Elizabethan dance repertory The late Elizabethan pavan Tonality 4 The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’ ‘Lachrimae Antiquae’ The tear motif Musical rhetoric The nature of the cycle Melancholy vii .

Contents ‘Lachrimae Antiquae Novae’ ‘Lachrimae Gementes’ ‘Lachrimae Tristes’ ‘Lachrimae Coactae’ ‘Lachrimae Amantis’ ‘Lachrimae Verae’ 52 53 54 56 57 59 61 61 63 65 66 67 68 68 69 69 71 72 73 73 73 74 75 78 81 94 96 5 ‘Divers other Pavans. Giles Hobies his Galiard’ ‘M. John Langtons Pavan’ ‘The Earle of Essex Galiard’ ‘Captaine Digorie Piper his Galiard’ ‘M. George Whitehead his Almand’ 6 Reception Revival Notes Select bibliography Index viii . and Almands’ The ordering of the collection ‘Semper Dowland semper Dolens’ ‘Sir Henry Umptons Funerall’ ‘M. Henry Noel his Galiard’ ‘Sir John Souch his Galiard’ ‘M. Nicholas Gryffith his Galiard’ ‘Mistresse Nichols Almand’ ‘M. Thomas Collier his Galiard with 2 Trebles’ ‘M. Galiards. Buctons Galiard’ ‘The King of Denmarks Galiard’ ‘M.

capitalisation or punctuation. instituted by Pope Gregory XIII in 1582 and rapidly adopted on the Continent. black letter and roman type in printed documents. G–c–f–a–d′–g′ and d–g–c′–e′–a′–d′′. though I have not retained the contemporary distinctions between italic. ix . alto and bass clefs appear as g2. Pitches are indicated using the system in which the open strings of the viol family are D–G–c–e–a–d′. ‘u’ and ‘v’. Clefs are indicated using the system in which the treble. I have modernised the English system of reckoning the year from Lady Day (25 March). Readers should be alert to the possibility that quotations taken from secondary sources might have been modernised more radically. c3 and F4.Note to the reader Original written sources have been transcribed without changing spelling. and I have modernised the interchangeable letters ‘i’ and ‘j’. It was ten days ahead of the ‘Old Style’ or Julian calendar used at the time in England. All printed books were published in London unless otherwise stated. and have used an asterisk to indicate those dates in documents that may have been reckoned using the ‘New Style’ or Gregorian calendar.

Sadie. Spencer for the Severinus Press facsimile (Newbury. ed. McCoy and R. D. Poulton and B. 1974). JLSA 10 (1977) Edwards W. reissued with additional material by S. 1980) GSJ The Galpin Society Journal JAMIS Journal of the American Musical Instrument Society JAMS Journal of the American Musicological Society JD D. ed. Edwards. 1992) EECM Early English Church Music EM Early Music Fiddlers P. 20 vols. 1985) CLM The Collected Lute Music of John Dowland. E. Four and Twenty Fiddlers: The Violin at the English Court 1540–1690 (Oxford. (London. 3/1981) CMM Corpus mensurabilis musicae DM J. John Dowland (London. A Dowland Miscellany. Hunt (London. ed. introduction to the Boethius Press facsimile of Lachrimae (Leeds. M. Lam (London. 2/1982) JLSA Journal of the Lute Society of America LSJ The Lute Society Journal MB Musica Britannica MD Musica disciplina ML Music and Letters MQ The Musical Quarterly x CCM . Poulton. 2/1995) FoMRHIQ FoMRHI [Fellowship of Makers and Researchers of Historical Instruments] Quarterly Grove 6 The New Grove Dictionary of Music and Musicians. S. Holman. Ward.Abbreviations (based on those used in Grove 6) John Dowland: Complete Consort Music.

Royal Academy of Music London. Folger Shakespeare Libraries D-Kl D-Mbs GB-Cfm GB-Cu GB-Ge GB-Lam GB-Lbl US-NH US-Ws xi . University Library Glasgow. Reference Division United States of America New Haven. Bayerische Staatsbibliothek Great Britain Cambridge.Abbreviations PRMA RMARC Proceedings of the Royal Musical Association Royal Musical Association Research Chronicle Library sigla (following the RISM system as used in Grove 6) A-Wn Austria Österreichische Nationalbibliothek. Yale University. British Library. Murhardsche Bibliothek der Stadt und Landesbibliothek Munich. Euing Music Library London. Fitzwilliam Museum Cambridge. Musiksammlung Germany Kassel. School of Music Library Washington.

.

Galiards. in Five Parts. best known as a solo lute piece but also surviving in many contemporary adaptations for other solo instruments or groups of instruments. ‘Flow my teares’. with Divers other Pavans. ten pavans followed by nine galliards and two almands. now entitled ‘Lachrimae Antiquae’. and Lachrimae to mean the collection as a whole. It contains twenty-one pieces. published in The Second Booke of Songs or Ayres (1600). together with the abbreviations used in this book: 1 2 3 4 Lachrimae Antiquae Lachrimae Antiquae Novae Lachrimae Gementes Lachrimae Tristes xiii Antiquae Antiquae Novae Gementes Tristes . the pavan. ‘Antiquae’ specifically to mean its five-part setting as printed in the 1604 collection. the collection Dowland published in London in the spring of 1604 as Lachrimae. Set Forth for the Lute. Second. it is the title of his famous pavan. is the first item of the subject of this book. Viols. or Seaven Teares Figured in Seaven Passionate Pavans.Preface John Dowland used the Latin word ‘Lachrimae’ (‘Tears’) to mean three distinct but related things. First. each with staff-notation parts for five viols or violin-family instruments and a part in tablature for the lute. I list their titles as they appear in the body of the volume (there are some small differences in the way they are styled in the table of contents and between the parts). with the parts of each piece laid out around a single opening. In what follows I use ‘Lachrimae’ generally to mean the pavan in its various settings. it is the title appended to Dowland’s adaptation of the pavan as a song for two voices and lute. Third. or Violons. and Almands. Lachrimae is a typeset folio volume in table layout.

There is an urgent need for a proper critical edition that includes the tablature. For those who can cope with the original notation and can manage to use the table layout. intended for modern strings: it is laid out for the same combination as Schubert’s C major String Quintet (two violins. with an excellent brief survey by Warwick Edwards of the xiv . 1985). John Langtons Pavan The King of Denmarks Galiard The Earle of Essex Galiard Sir John Souch his Galiard M. there are three facsimile editions. The most recent edition. Boethius Press issued the copy in the Henry Watson Music Library. The edition by F. Nicholas Gryffith his Galiard M. 1927). not surprisingly. J. The first. Giesbert. by Edgar Hunt for Schott (London. In this book. includes the tablature but only consists of the seven ‘Lachrimae’ pavans. Thomas Collier his Galiard with 2 Trebles Captaine Digorie Piper his Galiard M. viola and two cellos).Preface 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 Lachrimae Coactae Lachrimae Amantis Lachrimae Verae Semper Dowland semper Dolens Sir Henry Umptons Funerall M. 1954). 1974). was. Buctons Galiard Mistresse Nichols Almand M. Lachrimae oder sieben Tränen (Kassel. Henry Noel his Galiard M. and takes account of variants between the six surviving copies of the publication and the various manuscript sources. includes Lachrimae in a supposedly Complete Consort Music [CCM] of Dowland. has no critical commentary. the note-values of the pavans and galliards are halved. and is disturbingly inaccurate in places. and it does not include the lute tablature. Manchester (Leeds. George Whitehead his Almand Coactae Amantis Verae Dolens Unton Langton Denmark Essex Souch Noel Hoby Gryffith Collier Piper Bucton Nichol Whitehead There is still no satisfactory modern edition of Lachrimae. bar numbers refer to the Hunt edition. edited by Peter Warlock for Oxford University Press (London. Giles Hobies his Galiard M. though it does not print the tablature.

3/1981). The reader wanting to study Lachrimae seriously will need to compare Dowland’s consort settings with the various song and lute versions. as well as Robert Dowland’s A Musicall Banquet (1610). is largely a series of glosses on Poulton’s book. John Ward’s A Dowland Miscellany [DM]. I have kept discussion of biographical and textual issues to a minimum. 2/1978. The Third and Last Booke (1603) and A Pilgrimes Solace (1612). Most recently. 3/1970). The part-song versions were edited by Edmund Fellowes. and with the questions of meaning. The song books. Thurston Dart and Nigel Fortune as Ayres for Four Voices. A Musicall Banquet was edited complete for the first time by Peter Stroud for this series in 1968. The First Booke (1597). were reprinted in facsimile by Scolar Press in the series The English Lutesongs 1597–1632 (Menston. musical context and intellectual background they pose. Chapter 4 is concerned with the seven ‘Lachrimae’ pavans. writers on Dowland (and Elizabethan music in general. leaving as much space as possible for other things. and were revised by Thurston Dart and David Scott between 1965 and 1969 in the series The English Lute Songs. and therefore shares her preoccupations. 2/1963. 1998). though she offered some useful comments on the texts of the Lachrimae pieces and their relationship to other settings. Chapter 1 deals with Lachrimae as a document. now in the library of the Royal Academy of Music [Edwards]. 1972. MB 6 (1953. They are xv . For this reason. the complete JLSA 10 (1977). This is true of Diana Poulton’s pioneering John Dowland [JD] (London. 2/1982). Performers’ Facsimiles have reproduced the copy in the British Library (New York. Chapter 3 provides a context for understanding its place in the history of Renaissance dance music. while Chapter 2 considers its instrumentation. investigating its publication history and the implications of its format. for that matter) have been more concerned with biography and source studies than with writing about the music. Edwards’s introduction was revised with additional material by Stewart McCoy and the late Robert Spencer for the publication by Severinus Press (Newbury. By and large. The Second Booke (1600). The Collected Lute Music of John Dowland was edited by Diana Poulton and Basil Lam (1974. 1968–71).Preface bibliographical and musical issues. 1992) of the copy formerly in Robert Spencer’s Library. Versions for solo voice and lute were published by Edmund Fellowes in the series The English School of Lutenist Song Writers (1922–4).

Robin Leaver. Chapter 5 deals with the ‘divers other Pavans. Also. though I am most grateful to Dr Lionel Pike for letting me read the relevant portions of his unpublished book Expression and the Evolution of Musical Language. He put his unrivalled knowledge of Dowland at my disposal. and to David Pinto for allowing me to refer to his article ‘Dowland’s Tears: Aspects of Lachrimae’ prior to its publication in The Lute. Matthew Spring and Peter Van Heyghen for reading drafts in whole or part. and Almands’. improving it greatly with their detailed criticism. My primary debt is to Robert Spencer. xvi . Ian Harwood. Galiards. Alison Crum.Preface difficult questions. Chapter 6 is a brief survey of Dowland’s influence on succeeding generations. I am grateful to Tim Carter. David Pinto. Judy Tarling and Christopher R. Paul O’Dette. Peter Berg. Wilson for helping me in various ways. and the process of revival in modern times. Richard Rastall. Lionel Pike. and whether the collection as a whole has any coherence. I must thank my daughter Sally for preparing the index. Charles Foster. Julian Rushton. and scholars have mostly avoided trying to answer them. Rudolf Rasch. considering the significance of the dedications to Dowland’s friends and patrons. Tim Crawford. and generously spent time and precious reserves of energy in the last months of his life reading successive drafts of the first two chapters and finding material for me in his magnificent library. and Clifford Bartlett. A book of this sort is inevitably heavily indebted to the work of others.

1 While substantial trades developed in Venice. printed by Thomas Vautrollier. apart from liturgical books with plainsong and collections of metrical psalms. or any bookes or quieres of such ruled paper imprinted’. The latter covered ‘set songe or songes in partes. though it did not sell well and they appealed to Elizabeth in June 1577 for support. now sole holder. Frenche. The Byrd–East monopoly expired in 1596. virtually no music was published in London until the 1570s. one in 1559 to John Day for psalm books. Paris. orpharion and bandora. or otherwise to be either plaid or soonge’. claiming they were out of pocket to the tune of at least 200 marks. which provided openings for others.1 The document English music publishing Music publishing came late to England. either in English. William Barley immediately produced A New Book of Tabliture. Latin. while Peter Short started in 1597 with. 1 . Italian. and the other in 1575 for twenty-one years to Thomas Tallis and William Byrd for polyphonic music. starting with Musica transalpina and Byrd’s Psalms. It was East who began the large-scale publication of polyphonic music. Sonets and Songs. though Queen Elizabeth tried to improve matters by granting two monopolies. assigned it to the printer Thomas East. Only two sets of part-books were issued before 1588.2 Tallis and Byrd used their monopoly to produce Cantiones quae ab argumento sacrae vocantur (1575). when Byrd. among other things. the first English printed collection of songs and solo music for lute. or other tongues that may serve for musicke either in Church or chamber. Nuremberg and Antwerp in the first half of the sixteenth century. It is not entirely clear why England lagged so far behind the Continent. as well as ‘any paper to serve for printing or pricking any songe or songes’ and ‘any printed bokes or papers of any songe or songes.

After working briefly at Wolfenbüttel and Kassel. Anthony Holborne’s Cittharn Schoole. But on 29 May 1600 East was also authorised to print music for three years. the two main London music printers. by a proclamation dated 7 May 1603. The publication of Dowland’s First Booke was a notable event.4 For some reason. twenty-one years. the new king. According to a letter he wrote to Sir Robert Cecil from Nuremberg 2 . in the next year (1598). Dowland’s continental career When Lachrimae appeared Dowland had been working abroad for a decade. Morley’s Canzonets or Little Short Aers to Five and Sixe Voices. and the two collections share the distinction of being the first English prints of polyphonic vocal music with a tablature part. and about the same time Short produced some volumes ‘with the assent of Thomas Morley’.3 The First Booke was highly successful: it was reprinted at least four times up to 1613. he was suddenly unable to print any more music. With such a success on his hands. and Dowland’s First Booke of Songes or Ayres. On 28 September Thomas Morley was granted a renewal of the music monopoly on similar terms as before. he left Germany for Italy to study with the Roman composer Luca Marenzio. he suspended all monopolies pending an investigation of the subject. in the case of the 1600 reprint of Dowland’s First Booke. created more uncertainty when. or at ‘the assigne of Th.5 He had left England in 1594 after failing to obtain a vacant post as a court lutenist. Short entered it in the Stationers’ Register together with Morley’s Canzonets on 31 October 1597. and for the same period. and it effectively went into abeyance after East’s three-year licence expired in May 1603. and though his wife Susan inherited his estate she either died soon after or did not exercise her claim to the monopoly. and its table layout (see below) was the model for all subsequent lute song collections. Morley’. But this sensible arrangement did not last long. Morley chose William Barley as his partner rather than East or Short.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) Thomas Morley’s Plaine and Easie Introduction to Practicall Musicke. Morley died in September or October 1602. including Robert Jones’s First Booke of Songes and Ayres (1600). Moreover James I. Peter Short must have been disappointed when.

but his main motive seems to have been to lobby James I for the court post he had repeatedly failed to obtain from Queen Elizabeth. And in case His Royal Majesty will not grant [part] of the same salary. and on 18 November 1598* he entered the service of Christian IV of Denmark. He protested his innocence to Cecil. Thomas Cutting. His salary of 500 Daler (more than £200 in contemporary English money) made him one of the highest paid court servants. and was allowed extended periods of leave in England. Indeed. He certainly failed a second time to obtain an English court post during a visit in 1597. He must have still been in London on 9 May 1604. Dowland’s second journey from Denmark to England occurred sometime between 15 July 1603*. he shall do future service therefore. the day he wrote out a lute piece for a foreign visitor. when he took the opportunity to publish The First Booke. claiming that he quickly realised the seriousness of his position and returned to Germany. and was made to recruit musicians and purchase instruments. longer than His Royal Majesty had granted him leave of absence. and 10 July 1604*. only received 300 Daler a year. when he received his salary up to 18 August*.The document on 10 November 1595* (see Chapter 4). Hans von Bodeck of Elbing (now Elblag in Poland). in view of the fact that he has travelled to England on his own business and remained there a long while. The first visit occurred over the autumn. he got as far as Florence. He also received occasional gifts from the king. Dowland was evidently highly valued by Christian IV. his successor. where he was drawn into a group of English Catholics involved in plotting against Queen Elizabeth. though the English authorities probably continued to regard him with suspicion. he probably began to make preparations for 3 . when he was given arrears of pay up to 18 August* with the proviso that: it depends on His Royal Majesty’s gracious pleasure whether His Majesty will be pleased to grant him the same salary. winter and spring of 1601–2. or give satisfaction to His Royal Majesty therefore in other ways.6 The publication of Lachrimae It is often thought that Dowland made the 1603–4 journey to England specifically to publish Lachrimae.

His original plan was to return to Denmark before the winter. using Lachrimae to attract her attention. but sometime in joy and gladnesse. and a close reading of the graceful dedication reveals a good deal about his plans and activities in the months before it was published: Since I had accesse to your Highnesse at Winchester (most gracious Queene) I have been twice under sayle for Denmarke. He clearly planned to approach James through the queen. the onely Patron and Sun-shine of my else unhappie Fortunes. The entertainment during her visit included a masque on 17 October – in which. perhaps. Vouchsafe then (worthy Goddesse) your Gracious protection to these showers of Harmonie. His statement that Lachrimae was ‘begun where you were borne. least if you frowne on them. And though the title doth promise teares. and ended where you raigne’ could mean that it was unfinished when he left Denmark. neither are teares shed alwayes in sorrowe. I was forst backe againe.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) the trip soon after the news of Elizabeth’s death on 24 March 1603 reached Denmark. and also servant to your most Princely Brother. your deare and worthiest Brother. and needed ‘labour and study’ that winter in England to finish it.7 He wrote that he ‘had accesse’ to the queen at Winchester. and ended where you raigne. which implies that he spoke to her in person. and of necessitie compeld to winter here in your most happie Kingdome. presumably requesting permission to dedicate Lachrimae to her and perhaps hinting that he was interested in a court post. unfit guests in these joyfull times. We learn from this that Dowland was in England by the middle of September 1603: the queen arrived in Winchester on the 18th and stayed there until late October. sister of his employer Christian IV. but he left it too late: he was ‘twice under sayle’ before ‘contrary windes and frost’ forced him to spend the winter in England. He dedicated it to Anne. In which time I have endevoured by my poore labour and study to manifest my humblenesse and dutie to your highnesse. being my selfe one of your most affectionate Subjects. For which respects I have presumed to Dedicate this worke of Musicke to your sacred hands. 4 . he played. Anne of Denmark. yet no doubt pleasant are the teares which Musicke weepes. that was begun where you were borne. but by contrary windes and frost. they bee Metamorphosed into true teares. a point developed in Chapter 2. hastning my returne to my most royall King and Master.

Barley 5 . and we know from a complicated series of lawsuits (discussed below) that the publisher purchased the collection from Dowland’s wife in London. and he would have had to send the manuscript to London by post. Windet and Adams had both taken advantage of the hiatus in the music monopoly to become involved in publishing music. Windet began to use a new fount when he turned to secular music. Thomas Ford. it was registered at Stationers’ Hall on 21 February 1603. Tobias Hume and Robert Jones. as he had done with his two previous collections. other sources. 1600’*. the most obvious sign of this in Lachrimae is the apparently incongruous use of several types of sharps and flats on the same page. Like several others used at the time by London printers. Windet had started printing psalm books in 1592 using John Day’s old music type.The document If so. it was modelled on the one Vautrollier seems to have obtained from Pierre Haultin in La Rochelle. which may have originated in Antwerp. Countess of Bedford is signed ‘From Helsingnoure in Denmarke the first of June. John Bartlet. Also. Had he returned to Denmark according to plan it is unlikely he would have had time to finish it before his departure.9 but there is no mention of him on the title-page: it was just ‘Printed by John Windet. dwelling at the Signe of the Crosse Keyes at Powles Wharfe’. and ‘solde at the Authors house in Fetter-lane neare Fleet-streete’. Michael East. The dedication of The Second Booke of Songs or Ayres to Lucy. by Richard Alison. and was apparently borrowed by Windet from Barley.8 Lachrimae was entered by Thomas Adams in the Stationers’ Register on 2 April 1604. Dowland remarked in the preface to his Third and Last Booke of Songs or Aires (1603) that it had been ‘fetcht far from home.11 The tablature type used by Windet in Lachrimae and his other table layout books is essentially that used by William Barley in Alison’s Psalmes of David in Meter (1599) and Morley’s First Booke of Ayres (1600).10 He began printing secular polyphonic music with Lachrimae and Thomas Greaves’s Songes of Sundrie Kindes (both entered in the Stationers’ Register on the same day) and continued with a number of part-book and table layout collections over the next three years. when he was certainly in Denmark. probably. though Windet mixed in pieces from the Day fount and. then Dowland could hardly have come to England in 1603 to see Lachrimae through the press. and brought even through the most perilous seas’. John Coprario.

sold in 1877. though the copies in Manchester Public Library and the British Library have the dates 1605 and 1605 or possibly 1606 added by hand to the title-page.16 1605 was accepted by earlier scholars. It seems that Dowland had also planned to use Adams to publish Lachrimae.15 He would doubtless have been interested to learn that Eastland printed 1000 copies (the largest run allowed by the Stationers’ Company) and planned to sell them at 4s 6d each. but both dates were apparently added relatively recently and have no authority. and went on to issue Dowland’s translation of Andreas Ornithoparcus his Micrologus (1609). half the reward that could be expected from the queen for the dedication. and Robert Dowland’s anthologies Varietie of LuteLessons (1610) and A Musicall Banquet (1610).13 William Chappell claimed in 1844 that Edward Rimbault was ‘in possession of a portion of the original manuscript’. It reveals that Dowland’s wife received £20 ‘for the manuscript and half the dedication’ – that is. though oddly not in any of his song books. He began with Dowland’s Third and Last Booke and a reprint of The First Booke. and he thought he could make more money that way. No wonder Dowland was tempted to publish Lachrimae himself. though it does not appear in the catalogue of Rimbault’s library. Lachrimae was published without a date.12 Lachrimae differs from the other examples of the Barley–Windet tablature in its extensive use of beamed rhythm flags. but East described that sum as ‘such apparent an untruth’. as well as collections by John Danyel and Thomas Ravenscroft. They also appear in the autograph sections of the Dowland Lutebook in Washington and the Board Manuscript. the entry in the Stationers’ Register 6 . which presumably reflects Dowland’s own preference. perhaps because his enforced stay in England gave him the time to organise its sale himself. and submitted a more detailed and convincing estimate of only £47 12s. Thus Eastland stood to make as much as £225 against expenses he estimated at £100.14 Thomas Adams had been a bookseller and publisher at the White Lion in St Paul’s Churchyard from 1591. and does not seem to survive. but started publishing music in 1603 taking advantage of the hiatus in the music monopoly. Perhaps Dowland came to this conclusion by hearing about the complicated and protracted series of lawsuits relating to the publication of The Second Booke between the publisher George Eastland and Thomas East.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) used it again in Thomas Robinson’s New Citharen Lessons (1609). but changed his mind.

He was perhaps wise to be cautious. it was easy to include a wide variety of music. One of the attractions of the table layout was its flexibility. All the songs in 7 . to be read by the performers grouped around it. with the Cantus and the lute tablature underlaid on the left-hand page. Since each opening could be laid out differently. part-songs. With the litigation surrounding The Second Booke fresh in his mind. most engraved editions issued by eighteenth-century English music publishers are undated: it allowed them to run off more copies as and when demand arose without revealing the age of the publication. claiming an interest in the monopoly as Morley’s former partner. Each piece is laid out on a single opening. To answer the question we must return to the tangled and uncertain situation in the music publishing trade. and without having to change the title-page. But scholars do not seem to have asked themselves why Lachrimae is one of the very few undated typeset music prints from Elizabethan and Jacobean England. The table layout The normal way of publishing polyphonic vocal or instrumental music was in sets of quarto part-books. while Dowland developed a type of part-song for the format that could be used in many different ways. with each book containing all the parts in the collection for a particular instrument or voice range. But The First Booke is a folio intended to be placed flat on a small table. for in May 1606 and October 1609 William Barley won court cases against East and Adams.17 Dowland might also have decided to leave the date off the title-page of Lachrimae because he was not sure how long he would be in England. madrigals. For a similar reason. It would have been easier to dispose of the stock over a period if it was not obvious on the title-page that it was no longer a novelty. or how well the collection would sell in his absence. and the other three vocal parts grouped around the three sides of the right-hand page. it is easy to see why Dowland might have chosen to disguise the fact that it had appeared without the authorisation of the holder of the monopoly or an assignee at a period when the ownership of the monopoly was in question. including solo songs.The document makes it clear it appeared in the spring of 1604. when he would return. masque music and even anthems and motets.

It is also a folio book.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) The First Booke can be performed by a single person singing the tune and playing the underlaid tablature on the left-hand page. in an Elizabethan lute song manuscript. 1594). MS 31390. in which all the parts of a polyphonic vocal piece are spread around a single opening but face the same direction. Add. in Florilegium by Adrian Denss (Cologne. the table layout is related to the choirbook format. they can be sung as part-songs with or without the lute. or with viols replacing or doubling some or all of the voices.21 A similar format is used for the two fantasias for cittern and/or three single-line instruments in Holborne’s Cittharn Schoole. while the lute duets in Pierre Phalèse’s Hortus musarum and Luculentum theatrum musicum (Louvain. and the Canzonette a tre voci (Venice. with the parts for each piece 8 . It was an elegant solution to the problem of printing music with a tablature part as well as staff notation. Morley’s Canzonets. the performers sit facing one another or at right angles. using some or all of the lower parts on the right-hand page. Lachrimae is modelled on The First Booke and other lute-song collections in table layout.18 The table layout was not entirely Dowland’s invention. Jacques Moderne printed four-part pieces in Le parangnon des chansons (Lyons. its competitor. to a printed collection and to flexible combinations of voices and lute. Alternatively. 1568) are arranged so that the players sit facing each other. GB-Lbl.20 Similarly. 1552. inspired no imitations. with two of the parts upside-down at the top of the page. such as Emanuel Adriaenssen’s Pratum musicum and Novum pratum musicum (Antwerp. 1584.19 Similar formats had already been used in continental publications. the Prague-based wind player Dowland met at Kassel in 1594. 1538–43) on a single opening. Add. MS 31390.22 Dowland’s innovation was to apply the full table layout of Add. Of course. 1596) by Alessandro Orologio. MS 4900. the book is placed on a lectern or music desk rather than flat on a table. 1592). probably partly because it was a set of part-books with the tablature printed inconveniently on separate pages of the Cantus – requiring two copies for performance. has the parts of each piece spread around the four sides of each opening. It was used in some continental vocal collections with tablature parts. with parts laid around all four sides of the book. the lutenist sits opposite the singers. GB-Lbl. a large manuscript dated 1578 of ‘In Nomines & other solfainge Songes’ for ‘voyces or Instrumentes’.

significantly. risking damage. but Warwick Edwards has argued. Bassus (left middle.26 It is also possible that some of its pieces were intended for wind players. upside down). MS 31390.25 Of course.1). and so there was a danger that the lute part would get separated from the others. Dowland was aware that space round the table would be limited. for he placed the parts for the bass and lute.27 9 . and Altus (right bottom) (see Fig. 2/1611) and Philip Rosseter’s Lessons for Consort (1609) by printing the lute part in folio and the others in quarto. on the sides of the opening facing in. Another option for performers of Lachrimae. Tenor (right top. so that they had the most room. or would have to be folded across the middle to fit on a shelf with them.23 But this created another problem: the sets did not have a consistent format. But even so. upside down). of course. that the Elizabethan instrumental ensemble repertory was used for singing as much as playing.24 But publishing consort music in table layout created its own problems. using the phrase ‘solfainge Songes’ in its title as evidence. would have had less trouble than string players gathering around a single book. the same arguments apply to Add. was to buy more than one copy. they show signs of having been folded. 1. Quintus (left top. This is perhaps why we have no example of the two editions of Morley’s lute part and only a few fragments of a single copy of Rosseter’s. who. Dowland presumably chose the table layout for Lachrimae because it had been so successful in The First Booke. until recently in the library of Schlobitten Castle. if they withdraw to a comfortable distance the music is too small to read. particularly for didactic purposes in choir schools. the largest instruments. experiment shows that it is difficult to get five viol players and a lutenist seated around a single table and a single copy of the collection: if they get close enough to read the music comfortably there is no room for bowing. and this is perhaps why two were included in the collection of English music prints purchased by a German nobleman in London in 1630. The problem was avoided in Morley’s First Booke of Consort Lessons (1599. like singers. the lute tablature (right middle. But he may also have been trying to avoid an obvious problem with conventional part-books: the tablature takes up more space than the other parts. opposite the Bassus).The document distributed around the sides of a single opening in the following order: Cantus (left bottom). facing outwards).

B2 10 . sig.1 The table layout: Lachrimae. B1.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) Fig. 1.

1 (cont.) 11 . 1.The document Fig.

though a sensible person would have realised that he was putting Queen Anne into an impossible position: she could hardly be seen to be poaching a servant of her brother. Lachrimae does not seem to have been very successful. Doubtless Dowland was disappointed by the failure of Lachrimae to obtain him that coveted court post. and it was never reprinted. We do not know how well it sold. Almains (1599). quem non Fortuna beavit’ (‘whom Fortune has not blessed. But common sense was not Dowland’s strong point: as his friend Henry Peacham put it in The Compleat Gentleman (1622). aut Lachrimat. or how much money Dowland made out of it. despite his fame and the rarity of English publications of consort music.30 12 . for it might have been construed as a criticism of his employer. but he never acted as his own publisher again. though this may tell us more about the embryonic nature of the English music trade than about how the collection was perceived by Dowland’s contemporaries. he either rages or weeps’) on the title-page.28 The Prussian nobleman’s purchase shows that there was still unsold stock in 1630. Lachrimae was only the third. he ‘slipt many opportunities in advancing his fortunes’. Galliards. who had begun to move on to other things by 1604. after Morley’s Consort Lessons and Anthony Holborne’s Pavans.29 But no one repeated the experiment of printing consort music in table layout. It was also perhaps unwise to have added the motto ‘Aut Furit.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) All in all. and its music had little influence on English composers.

as is often thought. The flute. the recorder and the douçaine (probably a soft type of shawm) were developed in sets or consorts during the fifteenth century.2 The instruments When John Dowland published Lachrimae he was contributing to a genre that was about a century old. while the vielle was a smaller instrument played on the shoulder (da braccio). The model was an existing tenor-sized bowed instrument recently imported into Italy from the Valencian area of Spain.1 The viol consort was apparently developed in Brescia around 1495 on the orders of Isabella d’Este. and two other sizes were developed. Duke of Mantua. the wife of Francesco Gonzaga. They provided the advanced humanist circle of the Estes and Gonzagas with an alternative to 13 . with an arched back and no frets. So to make it suitable for polyphonic music it had to be fitted with an arched bridge. with a flat back and frets. making a consort of three. The Valencian viol. The violin consort was apparently developed in a similar fashion about a decade later at the neighbouring Este court in Ferrara by deriving a bass and a soprano from the alto-range vielle. The two families were invented at about the same time. for similar reasons but for different purposes. But it was not until the 1490s that the idea was applied to bowed instruments. when a tenor-range bombard was developed from the soprano-range shawm. The idea of developing instruments in several sizes to play polyphonic music. like other mediaeval bowed instruments. only existed in a single size and had been used to play monophonic music using drone techniques with a flat bridge or no bridge at all. mimicking the ranges of the various voices of a vocal ensemble. seems to go back to the late fourteenth century. Thus. The viol and the violin retained many of the characteristics of the parent instruments: the Valencian viol was a fairly large instrument held upright on the lap (da gamba). the viol was not the ancestor of the violin.

and often made their own instruments. but it was also because they were typically played by self-sufficient and mobile groups of professional musicians based on one or two families. ‘R. Alfonso d’Este’s wife. The viol and the violin spread with remarkable rapidity all over Europe in the first half of the sixteenth century. But they were used in different ways. and their consort was superseded there in 1540 by a six-man group made up of three families of Sephardic Jews from Venice. The viol and the violin apparently began to appear in English aristocratic households in the 1530s and the 1560s respectively. and such other instruments going with winde. were suitable for serious contrapuntal music. Viols. Lute. Following classical authors such as Plato and Aristotle. In meale times to play upon vialls. higher-pitched and more sprightly. five. or Citerne.2 The ensemble they founded served successive English monarchs from Henry VIII to Charles I. The viol was probably brought to the English court around 1515 by members of the van Wilder family from The Netherlands.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) consorts of wind instruments. and formed the nucleus of the Twenty-four Violins in Charles II’s reign. 1605). were ideal for the new repertory of composed four-. while violins. soft. B. but musicians elsewhere had to be more versatile. the author of the treatise ‘Some Rules and Orders for the Government of an Earle’ (c. Milan and Brescia who played violins as well as viols.’. Shalmes. They are to teach the Earles children to singe and play upon the base violl the virginalls. who recruited their own personnel.3 There were sufficient instrumentalists at court to allow a group to specialise in stringed instruments. sonorous but rather lacking in attack. Cornetts. humanist thought regarded winds as less noble than strings. thought that an earl should employ five musicians for the following duties: At greate feastes when the Earles service is going to the table they are to play upon Shagbutts. and the phallic associations of wind instruments also made them unsuitable for the patronage of female aristocrats such as Isabella d’Este and Lucrezia Borgia. Bandora. louder.4 14 . violens or other[wise] broken musicke.and six-part dance music. composed or arranged their own repertory. and were taken up by waits (town musicians) and humbler professionals several decades later. This was partly because they were perceived to be the best vehicles for the new repertories of polyphonic instrumental music.

They would have used wind instruments outdoors and (as R. suggests) in processions.6 But this genre. In Elizabethan England the viol was almost as closely associated with professionals as the violin. assumed that professionals would play the main sets of ensemble instruments but would teach the children of the house solo instruments. only a few publications of consort music appeared in England during Dowland’s lifetime. Thus it seems that the collection was partly written for Champernowne’s household musicians. upon some 15 . used in Morley’s Consort Lessons. Nor should we assume that Holborne intended the instruments he lists to be mixed together. Anthony Holborne advertised Pavans. Holborne wrote that it contained ‘a more liberall and enlarged choice then hath at any time as yet come to your refined eares’. and violins for the dancing that regularly followed Elizabethan meals. B. with three parts in tablature and only three in staff notation. Charles Butler wrote as late as 1636 that ‘The several kinds of Instruments ar commonly used severally by them selves: as a Set of Viols. or the like’. tenor flute or recorder. viols for Tafelmusik. The normal practice of professional groups was to use them as alternatives in a musical menu rather than as ingredients in a single dish. but in England the more advanced skills required for playing in ensembles were not generally cultivated by amateurs until the reign of James I. Loud wind bands often mixed shawms. but added: ‘sometimes. was quite distinct from the main repertory of five. B. Rosseter’s Lessons for Consort.and six-part staff-notation music. For this reason. sackbuts and curtals. lute. a Set of Waits [shawms]. cittern and bandora. which recalls the list of instruments R. B. Violins. Almains (1599) as suitable ‘for Viols. bass viol.The instruments R. and was regarded as something of an exotic musical luxury.5 Obvious purchasers would have been those professional groups that did not have a skilled composer or arranger at their disposal. and that his role was as a listener rather than participant. Dedicating the collection to Sir Richard Champernowne of Modbury in south Devon. or Other[wise] Musicall Winde Instruments’. recommended for household musicians. Galliards. and we should not assume that they were aimed exclusively at the amateur market. but the only established mixed ensemble of soft instruments in Elizabethan England was the six-man group of treble viol or violin. and several manuscript sources. In Mantua and Ferrara aristocrats had played in the earliest viol consorts.

who had connections with the Danish court. Viols. Dowland may have been recommended to Christian IV by one of them. Christian IV was not alone in employing Englishmen. many of both Sorts ar moste sweetely joined in Consort’. Lachrimae and the Anglo-German repertory The same arguments apply to Lachrimae. Daniel Norcombe (1599–1601). like the influential composers William Brade and Thomas 16 . and ended where you raigne’ seems to mean that some of the pieces were written for court musicians in Denmark. Between about 1580 and 1620 many musicians left England to work on the Continent.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) special occasion. Richard Deering.7 Thus we should think twice about playing five-part dance music of the sort published by Holborne with mixed ensembles. or alternatively by his friend Alessandro Orologio. Everything we know about sixteenth-century instrumentation suggests that it was intended for five instruments of the same family. 1599–1606). Benedict Greeve or Greaves. It was presumably partly because he was aware of the potential problems of combining wind instruments with a lute (a point to which we will return). and it has a similar formula on the title-page: ‘set forth for the Lute. like Peter Philips. but it was also because Lachrimae is to some extent more typical of consort music written by English musicians on the Continent than of English consort music: Dowland’s phrase in the dedication that Lachrimae ‘was begun where you were borne. perhaps an Irishman. and those who were there with him include William Brade (1594–6. who was perhaps an Englishman. John Meinert or Myners (1599–1601). Daniel Norcombe and John Bull. Charles O’Reilly. or Violons.8 Some. Several groups had been there in the 1580s. It is a collection of five-part dance music. and it is worth considering why. Others were members of theatre companies forced to tour abroad by the statute of 1572 that restricted the activities of ‘Comon Players in Enterludes & Minstrels’. But Dowland did not include ‘Musicall Winde Instruments’. Dowland was not the only English musician to work at the Danish court. and the harpist ‘Carolus Oralii’ (1601–2). and Bendix or Benedictus Greebe or Grep (1595–1619). Some. were Catholic refugees from persecution. the dancing master Henry Sandam (1601–2). in five parts’.

Many were string players. in the Anglo-German repertory at least. and were partly hired to ‘entertain and play music on their Geygen and instruments of such like’ during meals. were apparently just attracted by the possibility of lucrative employment in the prosperous cities and small courts of Germany and Scandinavia.9 Brade called himself ‘Violist und Musicus’ and ‘Fiolist und Musicum’ on the title-pages of his 1609 and 1614 collections. while an account of a theatre group that arrived in Kassel in 1601 refers to their Saitenspiel (string playing). and that a contralto viol was tuned ‘string by string in unison with the Tenor’. Some collections.The instruments Simpson. Violen (or Fiolen) was used like the parent Italian word viole to mean violins as well as viols. though they were rarely as specific as Bartolomeus Praetorius. Giovanni Maria Lanfranco wrote in his Scintille di musica (Brescia.12 Instrumentation Nearly all treatises of the time give three tunings for the viol and violin families. with the formula ‘auf der Figoli Gamba und Figoli di Braccia artlich zu gebrauchen’ in his Newe liebliche Paduanen und Galliarden (Berlin. 1616).10 These émigrés developed an Anglo-German repertory that was founded on English consort music. 1533) that when a contralto was used in the violin consort each string was ‘made to resonate in unison with the Tenor’. four-part music laid out in the standard way with a 17 . The five Englishmen who came from Copenhagen in 1586 to work in Dresden were Geiger (fiddlers). though there is evidence that. and by Brade in 1614 and 1617. by Simpson in 1610. while Simpson described himself as ‘Violisten und Musicum’ on the titlepages of his three collections. and was focused particularly on sets of violins or viols. it consisted of dance music rather than fantasias. and particularly suitable for strings’). but differed from it in several respects. use variants of the phrase ‘auff allerley Instrumenten und insonderheit auff Fiolen zu gebrauchen’ (‘for various instruments. not four.14 Thus.13 For example.11 Michael Praetorius wrote in 1618–19 that town musicians call viols Violen and violins Geigen or Polnische Geigen. Since most of it was the work of string players rather than organists or choir masters. such those published by Zacharius Füllsack and Christian Hildebrand in 1607 and 1609.

turning it into a Cantus Secundus that continually crosses and exchanges material with the Cantus. two tenor viols and a bass viol. the Vingt-quatre violons. The two-soprano scoring seems to have come into German dance music from Italian madrigals and balletti. then the extra part (or Quintus) was played on a third alto or tenor. three tenors and bass. six basses. treble.16 When a third inner part was added to the texture. even though they are [tuned] in unison’. only play soprano parts. Thus Peter Warlock was wide of the mark when he scored his edition of Lachrimae for two violins. four contratenors. The Quintus was raised an octave from its normal tenor range. as it generally was towards the end of the sixteenth century. practice. or two treble viols. pieces using this scoring require two violins. as well as from 18 . two tenors and bass. rather than English. not a second soprano or bass. four altos. bass instruments only play bass parts. Towards the end of the sixteenth century a new scoring developed in consort music. played in five parts with ‘six trebles. and it was probably used on small bass violins made to be played standing or walking along. It should have been violin. 1592). the lowest note of the viola and many tenor wind instruments. According to the principle of allocating instruments just explained. viola and two cellos.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) single soprano. such as the treble viol and the violin. When Dowland used the two-soprano scoring in ‘Collier’ he was conforming to German or Anglo-German. or a treble viol. Thomas Collier his Galiard with 2 Trebles’. seems to derive from an implausible statement in Lodovico Zacconi’s Prattica di musica (Venice. three violas and bass violin – or on viols.15 Praetorius gave it as a bass tuning. and a bass violin. the three inner parts were played by violas ‘of different sizes.17 This exemplifies a basic principle of sixteenth-century instrumentation that is often ignored today: instruments are allocated according to function. so soprano instruments. Thus Mersenne wrote that the French court violin band. two violas and bass violin. the so-called ‘tenor violin’. two inner parts and bass was played with a single violin. 1623). copied by Daniel Hitzler in Extract aus der neuen Musica oder Singkunst (Nuremberg. The modern notion of a fourth size of violin. and alto or tenor instruments only play inner parts – which is why the inner parts of Lachrimae and virtually all other consort music of the time never go below c. two violas. and four of a fifth part’. which allocates the tuning F–c–g–d to the viola. slung across the chest and supported by a strap. exemplified in Lachrimae by ‘M.

both use the two-soprano scoring. grave with light’. The first. 1–5. then the high-pitched pieces are likely to be the ones written in Denmark. are generally low pitched and use the soprano (c1) clef for the Cantus part. with some pieces only going down to g . Dowland implies as much by describing Lachrimae in the preface as ‘a long and troublesome worke. and the slightly later 4° MS mus. starting with D-Kl. The two-soprano scoring does not seem to have been used in English five-part dance music until the second decade of the seventeenth century. while the Cantus is in the treble (g2) clef.19 The scoring is also found in many AngloGerman sources. 1601). They include most of the pieces known to have been written earlier as songs or lute solos. a collection dedicated to Christian IV.20 Later examples include pieces in the 1607 and 1609 Füllsack and Hildebrand anthologies. Why is this so? An obvious possibility is that one group was written in Denmark for performers at Christian IV’s court. I believe this explains an odd feature of the writing: the pieces can be divided by the range of their parts into two groups. for instance. sixpart intradas appear side-by-side with five-part German songs in a dance-like idiom derived from Gastoldi. 1614. and never goes below d . If so. Add.21 I drew attention earlier to the phrase in the Lachrimae dedication that suggests the collection was partly written in Denmark and partly in England.and six-part Intradae. particularly in the upper parts. Alessandro Orologio used the twosoprano scoring throughout his five. In Hans Leo Hassler’s Lustgarten neuer teutscher Gesäng (Nuremberg. ‘Unton’ and ‘Souch’. containing a number of pavans by the Landgrave of Hesse. a manuscript containing fifty-three five-part pavans apparently copied by an Englishman in Kassel around 1600.18 More relevant to Dowland. 125. 1617 and 1621 prints by Brade. the first examples are probably in GB-Lbl. and the 1609. The others lie rather higher. while the other was completed in England specifically for the publication. such 19 .The instruments Italianate vocal music by German composers. ‘Dolens’. 4° MS mus. 1–5. wherein I have mixed new songs with olde. which in several cases goes down to b or c . apparently copied in Oxford by William Wigthorpe around 1615. consisting of the seven ‘Lachrimae’ pavans. the 1610 and 1617 prints by Simpson. for several reasons. MSS 17786–91. 72.

In particular. and work better playing higher-pitched music.22 By contrast. even likely. principally viols and recorders. Among them is ‘Collier’. Before metal wound strings were developed in the 1650s thick and unwieldy plain gut had to be used for their bottom strings.23 20 . used clef combinations in the same way as vocal ensembles: they played low clefs come stà but transposed chiavette pieces down. ‘Noel’ and ‘Piper’. none of which exists in earlier versions – apart. such as ‘loading’ them in copper solution or roping together several strands of gut. from ‘Antiquae’. It is possible that other methods of increasing the density of strings without increasing their thickness. that they were written at a late stage specifically for the publication. It raises the remarkable possibility that Dowland wrote his most sublime and complex works in relative haste during the winter of 1604–5. it was possible to avoid the thin and unlovely upper register of the treble viol as well as the unsatisfactory bottom strings of the violin and the viola.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) as ‘Essex’. of course. but normally seems to have been a fourth. with bottom strings a fourth higher than their equivalents. Violins are smaller. the violin and the viola have smaller bodies and shorter string lengths. in the form that they appear in Lachrimae. livelier instruments than the equivalent sizes of viols. the interval traversed varied between a second and a fifth. In this way. had been developed earlier. but we do not know whether they were used by musicians associated with Dowland. For this reason. the two groups are intended for different instruments. and the whole subject is controversial at present. in Italy violins were classed with cornetts as stromenti acuti that either transposed up low-tessitura music in low clefs or chiavi naturali (typically c1–c3–c4–F4). the treble viol and the tenor viol. dedicated to his employer Christian IV. with its Anglo-German two-soprano scoring. the low-pitched group includes the seven ‘Lachrimae’ pavans. as well as ‘Denmark’. which were therefore avoided as much as possible in favour of their middle and upper registers. Furthermore. the stromenti coristi. Chiavette and transposition Another possibility is that. in England rather than Denmark. or played high-tessitura music in high clefs or chiavette (typically g2–c2–c3–c4 or F3) come stà – at pitch. It is possible.

significantly. two or three basses. g2–c2–c3–c4–F4 is used for most of Holborne’s Pavans. as does Simpson’s 1610 collection.24 It is important.27 What does all this mean for Lachrimae? Though it does not divide into chiavette and chiavi naturali as clearly as some other Anglo-German collections. The 1607 and 1609 Füllsack and Hildebrand anthologies. while Simpson’s violinistic 1617 collection is entirely in chiavette. like Dowland’s seven ‘Lachrimae’ pavans. At present. not to confuse these transposing devices with the variations in pitch standard that existed at the time between different places.The instruments It was also possible to increase the sonority of a viol consort by using a consort pitched a fourth or fifth lower than the standard one.26 The contents of the two Elizabethan Consort Music volumes in Musica Britannica. have five-part pieces in g2–g2–c2–c3–F3 as well as c1–c1–c3–c4–F4 clefs. in g2–c1–c2–c3–F3 clefs. and the low-pitched pieces with viols 21 . Galliards. using a tenor. though some of the more sombre pavans. it could be that Dowland wrote the high-pitched group for a violin consort at the Danish court. it is not possible to draw any firm conclusions about the pitch standards used by Danish or English string consorts in the early seventeenth century. c1 or g2–c2–c3–c4–F4. Almains. when they are ‘playing viols on their own’. and a great bass. and between different types of ensemble. But the repertory also includes many examples of mixed clefs. though they are likely to have been substantially lower than modern pitch or the various church and organ pitches of the time. are almost entirely in chiavi naturali or in mixed clefs. and. though there is little or no evidence of chiavette in the mainstream repertory of singleline consort music. including the ones used in Lachrimae. they are often applied to English pieces. of course. Ian Harwood has drawn attention to evidence of two pitch standards a fourth apart in English mixed consort music and related repertories. and thought it sounded ‘much more rich and majestic’ than a consort ‘tuned to the usual pitches’. which may be one reason why Dowland did not specify them on the title-page of Lachrimae. Furthermore. for instance. the main exceptions are three In Nomines by the Italian Alfonso Ferrabosco I. for instance. Praetorius associated this device with the English. significantly. The musicians who developed the Anglo-German repertory evidently knew the chiavette system. have low-lying Cantus parts in c1. 25 Wind instruments were usually made to play at high pitch.

an incomplete Scottish one in Thomas Wode’s part-books. and there is some evidence that this was done at the time. In solo music the tuning could be relative rather than absolute. several pictures show lutes playing with violin consorts. which seems to show a four-part violin consort and lute.28 The last three are probably examples of upward transposition in action. including those for keyboard by Byrd and Sweelinck. a virginal and a lute. made to bring the soprano part into a good range for the violin. of course. though parts with a similar function were printed in some sixteenth-century collections of music for voices and lutes.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) mainly in mind. The lute part Lachrimae was the first collection of string consort music with a tablature part. G–c–f–a–d –g .30 So the practice of accompanying string consorts with plucked instruments was not new in 1604. but in Lachrimae and other consort music it had to conform to the pitch of the rest of the ensemble. while most lute settings are in G minor. founded on Gamut (treatises merely advise the player to tune the top string ‘so high as you dare venture for breaking’). D and 22 . The Lachrimae tablature part requires an ordinary tenor lute using the standard English tuning. But a surprising number of settings in other media are in D minor. as is ‘Flow my teares’. specially for the publication. a five-part arrangement by William Wigthorpe. 1590) includes a ‘Saltarello detto Trivella’ for five-part ‘Stromenti da corde’ and lute in a collection of largely vocal music. Obvious examples are the illustration of a wedding banquet in Düsseldorf on 16 June 1585* with what seems to be a four-part violin consort. In practice. that the other instruments are not transposing from their written pitches. and the painting Courtiers of Queen Elizabeth of about 1600 attributed to Marcus Gheeraerts the Elder.31 Thus the Lachrimae tablature part confirms an absolute G tuning.29 Furthermore. assuming. for the stopped courses. while Orazio Vecchi’s Selva di varia ricreatione (Venice. E. the low-pitched pieces gain from being transposed up a fourth when performed by a violin consort using plain gut strings. ‘Antiquae’ is in A minor. and Morley’s mixed consort arrangement. Lachrimae is the first English collection to require a nine-course lute with three diapasons tuned to various combinations of F.

However. Of course. ad symphoniam duarum vocum duarumve violarum accomodata (Leiden. repr. implying that the lute part could be played by itself or could be omitted in performances with viols or violins. repr. The phrase ‘set forth for the Lute. 1982). 1987) by the Frisian lutenist Louis de Moy. 1600. such as ‘Dolens’ and ‘Unton’.32 More relevant to Dowland is van den Hove’s Praeludia testudinis. A few of them. work well as solos. Viols. De Moy’s pavans partly belong to the Anglo-German tradition. 1977). repr. with accompaniments for lute and untexted Cantus and Bassus parts. 1970). ‘Goe nightly cares’. Dowland probably started playing on a six-course lute with the three lowest courses strung in octaves. There has been controversy in modern times over the nature and the function of the Lachrimae lute part. 1592. a simple way of getting round that problem would be to add the Cantus and Bassus parts to the lute. repr. and one of them alludes to ‘Lachrimae’. since the Cantus – the tune – is partly or entirely missing from the lute part of the high-pitched pieces. bass violin and lute in Le petit boucquet de frise orientale ([?Emden].The instruments C. 1600. 1631. and wrote for a seven-course lute in his first three song books. for he wrote of octave stringing in the Varietie of Lute-Lessons that ‘amongst learned Musitions that custome is left. Dowland referred to Lachrimae as ‘my Lute-lessons’ in the preface. ‘From silent night’ and ‘Lasso vita mia’. Dowland himself published three songs in A Pilgrimes Solace. though Antoine Francisque had already used a similar arrangement in Le Trésor d’Orphée (Paris. as recommended in Adrian Le Roy’s A Briefe and easye instru[c]tion to learne the tableture to conduct and dispose thy hande unto the Lute (1568) (repeated as late as 1596 in Barley’s Newe Booke of Tabliture). 1612). He evidently favoured unison basses in later life. or Violons’ on the title-page has sometimes been thought of as a list of alternatives. and some of the tablature parts circulated as solos in manuscript.33 and the sequence of eleven pavans for violin. 1973). or some of the dances in Fabritio Caroso’s dance treatise Nobiltà di dame (Venice. as irregular to the rules of Musicke’. but this cannot have been Dowland’s intention throughout. making a trio texture similar to the five galliards for soprano and bass instruments with lute in Emanuel Adriaenssen’s Novum pratum musicum (Antwerp. 23 . 1616. seven were even printed as such in Joachim van den Hove’s Delitae musicae (Utrecht. repr.

producing something not unlike the lute parts of mixed consorts. even in solo sonatas and trio sonatas. then that may simply be because composers were unwilling to take the lute too high rather than because they were unwilling to double the tune. The instrumentation of Lachrimae is best understood as a small but significant step in the sequence of changes that was to transform the Anglo-German repertory in little more than a decade from what we think of as a late Renaissance idiom to an early Baroque one. Indeed. and by introducing an element of dialogue in one piece by turning the 24 . Nevertheless.34 The notion that continuo players should avoid the melodic lines they accompany seems to have developed at a much later period.35 Furthermore. It is easy to imagine that Dowland and other professional lutenists at the time would have embellished them on the repeats of the strains. except for the rhythmic patterns and ornamental flourishes that fill in the final bars of sections.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) What. though the large size of the instrument would have made the stretches difficult. then. a manuscript mixed consort lute part for ‘Essex’ can be used more or less as it stands with the Lachrimae setting. there is nothing particularly sacrosanct about the lute parts in Lachrimae. of the other possibility: that the lute could be omitted in consort performances? It is true that the tablature is largely confined to doubling the strings. If they do not always double the top parts.36 Similarly. Dowland took the first three steps by restricting the choice of instrument to strings. a bass lute in D could theoretically have been used in performances with a low-pitched viol consort a fourth lower. a lutenist playing a normal ‘mean’ lute in G with a violin consort transposing the low-pitched pieces up a fourth would have had to devise his own lute part. The written-out lute parts in ensemble music of all types in the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries normally double the parts they accompany. Everything we know about keyboard accompaniment at the time suggests that organists normally doubled all the parts of polyphonic vocal music or instrumental ensemble music. by adding an accompaniment to the full-voiced five-part texture. as in the part-song versions of Dowland’s lute songs or the high-pitched pieces in Lachrimae. But that is to be expected. though the tablature could have been played as it stood on a small ‘treble’ lute a fourth higher – the sort of instrument Ian Harwood has argued was used in the mixed consort repertory. with their written-out divisions.

and to begin to write specifically and idiomatically for violins. to increase the polarisation of the texture by reducing the number of inner parts. It was left to others such as Thomas Simpson and Samuel Scheidt to replace the lute tablature with a singleline continuo part. 25 .The instruments Quintus into a second soprano.

John Ward has suggested. was usually in four. But dance music continued to be played from memory: pictures show groups performing without music for at least another century. Henry VIII sat it out because. and could not easily have been improvised without creating glaring consecutives. The pavan The most important dances in the new repertory were those that make up most of Lachrimae. for when the emperor Charles V danced ‘la pabana’ with some of his courtiers at Windsor on 15 June 1522 during his second visit to England. a loud wind ensemble in which stereotyped counterpoint was improvised around a slow-moving cantus firmus played by the tenor shawm or bombard. The music. collectively called basse danse or bassadanza. The pavana or padoana (the name suggests a connection with Padua or an allusion to the dignified display of the peacock by way of the Spanish pavón) is first found in Italian musical sources in the first decade of the sixteenth century. The new dances that replaced it shortly after 1500 were much simpler. Since the length of each cantus firmus varied. It seems to have arrived in England in the 1520s. They had standard choreographies matched by simple tunes made up of short repeated sections in patterns such as AABB or AABBCC. now increasingly intended for the new string consorts rather than the old loud wind ensembles. were typically accompanied by the alta capella. the pavan and the galliard. for the inner parts no longer had readily defined or discrete functions.3 The dance types The main courtly dances of the fifteenth century. and had to be set down on paper. five or six parts using simple block chords. each basse danse had its own choreography. he was 26 . and spread rapidly to northern Europe.

repr. it could be danced by one couple or several. and look how many fours of semibreves you put in the strain of your Pavan so many times six 27 . the dance developed several decades later than the pavan. To judge from the musical sources. or alternatively by a single man as a solo.1 Like the basse danse.2 Arbeau’s simple open-ended choreography. whereof every strain is played or sung twice. Thomas Morley wrote in A Plaine and Easie Introduction to Practicall Musicke (1597. our main source of information for the sixteenth century. ‘kings. Yet it had joined the list of current dances by the time Sir Thomas Elyot published The Boke Named the Governour in 1531. or sixteen semibreves as they list. twelve. which meant that they tended to have the same structure as their parent pavans.3 The galliard The galliard was a lively hopping and kicking dance using the cinque pas. yet fewer than eight I have not seen in any Pavan’. He added that dancers could cope with any length of strain so long as it consisted of an even number of bars: ‘you must cast your music by four [semibreves]. so that if you keep that rule it is no matter how many fours you put in your strain. or even to triple-time music with a dotted minim rather than a minim beat. perhaps because. 1588). the pavan was at first paired with the saltarello. a strain they make to contain eight. 1937) that the pavan was ‘a kind of staid music ordained for grave dancing and most commonly made of three strains. consisting of the same number of strains. Many early galliards were derived from pavans by translating the duple-time music into triple time. According to Thoinot Arbeau’s Orchésographie (Langres. Morley wrote that it was ‘a lighter and more stirring kind of dancing than the Pavan. princes and great lords’ used it ‘to display themselves on some day of solemn festival with their fine mantles and robes of ceremony. Arbeau wrote that it is called gaillarde ‘because one must be blithe and lively to dance it’. or sometimes carried by damsels’. a stylised walk.The dance types unfamiliar with it. the pavan was a stately processional dance. and then the queens and the princesses and the great ladies accompany them with the long trains of their dresses let down and trailing behind them. allowed the pavan to be danced to any multiple of four semibreves. in Italy at least. for it will fall out well enough in the end’. a pattern of five steps danced to six minims of music.

Composition. with catchy tunes supported by simple diatonic harmonies. by the time Morley wrote those words English composers had largely stopped deriving galliards from pavans. Morley wrote that ‘It is made of strains. like the pavan. the almand. the basic pulse is usually in crotchets rather than minims. as well as a number of early sixteenth-century Italian dances now in Munich. sometimes three. and were writing them in all shapes and sizes. possibly in Nuremberg around 1540. alman or almain (allemande in French).Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) minims must you put in the strain of your Galliard’. A fairly constant feature. hence its name. so that three distinct triple patterns can sometimes be heard.4 As Morley put it. minims and semibreves. adding that the strains of ‘the usual Alman containeth the time of eight [semibreves]. In fact. sometimes two. it is ‘a more heavy dance then this [the galliard] (fitly representing the nature of the people whose name it carrieth) so that no extraordinary motions are used in dancing of it’. In France and The Netherlands.5 The cantus firmus tradition also continued in a new form in the many Italian dances based on standard chord sequences and the bass patterns associated with them. such as the Passamezzo antico. and the basic pattern consisted of three steps and a hop. by con28 . and most commonly in short notes’. and every strain is made by [groups of] four [semibreves]’. was an attractive rhythmic instability created by regrouping the six minims from the normal 3 3 to the 2 2 2 hemiola pattern. According to Arbeau. The almand The third type of dance in Lachrimae. Elizabethan almands tend to be jolly four-square pieces. seems to have originated in Germany. and by grouping crotchets 3 3 instead of 2 2 2. The tune is still in the tenor in the few surviving consort examples of the Hoftanz (a late German type of basse danse). however. In Italy and Germany the principle of weaving florid parts against a cantus firmus did not entirely disappear with the basse danse and the alta capella. the Passamezzo moderno and the Romanesca. it was danced by a line of couples. at the levels of crotchets. arrangement and performance There were two main ways of writing sixteenth-century dance music.

There are three reasons for this. One of the main differences between the two repertories is that dances set for solo instruments were usually provided with written-out ornamentation. the standard way of harmonising the tune. and the nature of tablature. an obvious example from Tudor England is the tune ‘Greensleeves’.The dance types trast. such as the ‘Allemande du Prince’ and ‘La Coranto’. which is presumably why most of the manuscripts they owned or used have disappeared. a good example is Arbeau’s pavan ‘Belle qui tiens ma vie’ and the dances related to it. the distinction between the two types is not always clear cut. Plucked instruments need ornamentation to prolong the sound.9 Since most sixteenth-century amateurs came to music by way of solo instruments such as the lute or the virginals. it is not surprising that much more sixteenthcentury dance music survives in solo settings than in consort versions. while most of the consort settings are plain. Dance musicians usually performed from memory. though some survive in prints or manuscripts published or copied partly with amateurs in mind. which tells the player where to put his 29 . the implied harmonies in between. the bass. dances with a tune in the top part often have an associated bass line. The consort settings were presumably composed and arranged mostly for the professional groups that accompanied dancing. the lute and the cittern.7 The two types became less distinct in the late sixteenth century. usually have a common ‘gist’ consisting of the tune. dances were usually settings of a tune in the top part.8 Renaissance dance music divides into two main types: the consort settings in four. The various settings for consort and solo instruments of popular English pavans. and the versions for solo instruments such as the keyboard. a descant to a combination of the Passamezzo antico and the Romanesca. five and six parts. apparently copied by dance musicians in England around 1560. In practice. a rare exception is the collection of consort dances in the Arundel or Lumley part-books. best known from Byrd’s keyboard setting and a piece in Morley’s Consort Lessons. such as ‘Lachrimae’ or the one by Peter Philips dated 1580 in the Fitzwilliam Virginal Book. often derived from a polyphonic chanson. Standard descants were often associated with the bass patterns.6 Similarly. and any particularly striking contrapuntal or decorative features in the inner parts. when original compositions by mainstream composers supplanted the older repertory of dances based on popular tunes and chord sequences.

two consist entirely of branles while the third contains only four pavans in a varied selection of forty-five dances.12 However. Of the three books of danseries published by Jean d’Estrée in Paris in 1559.10 Thus the difference between the two types is greater on the page than it would have been in performance. So far as we can tell from the rather scattered and fragmentary sources. Nearly a third of the fiftyodd dances in the Arundel part-books are pavans. allemandes. the proportion of pavans increases 30 . four-part writing remained the standard in Italy and much of northern Europe until the late sixteenth century. professionals had no need for written-out ornamentation. including branles. makes it difficult for the less experienced player to improvise ornamentation. Royal Appendix MS 58 are related to pieces in contemporary continental publications. and in Germany a sizeable body of five-part dance music only developed around 1600 as English expatriates such as William Brade and Thomas Simpson disseminated their native idiom. Also. Some sources with tablature parts. galliards and basse danses. have elaborate written-out divisions that give a vivid impression of how professional groups would have elaborated dance music in performance. for much of their training consisted of learning how to improvise florid ornamentation. such as the collection of lute trios by Giovanni Pacolini or Pacoloni published in 1564. and to convert existing four-part pieces into five by adding a specially written Quintus part.13 If anything. By contrast. or Matthew Holmes’s mixed consort books in GB-Cu. One feature is the emphasis on five-part writing: the compilers apparently made an effort to collect five-part dances.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) fingers rather than what notes to play. a much higher proportion than in equivalent continental collections. The most distinctive feature of Elizabethan dance music is the prominence given to pavans or pavan-galliard pairs. five-part writing remained the norm for dance music throughout Elizabeth’s reign. for instance. the dances in the Arundel part-books show that a distinctively English repertory was beginning to emerge around 1560.11 The Elizabethan dance repertory The few English dances that survive from before Elizabeth’s reign suggest that the repertory was largely imported: three of the six consort dances preserved in keyboard reduction in the mid-century GB-Lbl.

Galliards.17 By contrast. includes six pavan-galliard pairs and four separate pavans.15 English composers around 1600 increasingly preferred to write separate pavans and galliards. Filmer MS 2 (c. if the Italian dance 31 . were apparently written as singletons. perhaps because of the sudden popularity of the almand-like dances written for Jacobean masques. Many of the most influential English works. 1–5. 125. one. The sequence of twenty-five five-part dances by Peter Philips and others in one of the score-books supposedly copied by Francis Tregian (1574–1619).14 Holborne’s Pavans. they were often not thematically related. Almains. Mus. Even when they were paired in collections. six almands and five corants. such as the paired keyboard pavans and galliards by Byrd in My Ladye Nevells Booke of 1591 or those in Rosseter’s Lessons for Consort. except to note that the dance seems to have gone through a period of neglect in the 1580s and 90s. includes a single pavan in a sequence of twenty-three almands. as in Pavans. though galliards were sometimes provided for them by others. The fifty-three pavans in D-Kl. 4° MS mus. includes only two almands with six pavans and thirteen galliards. 1600). including several written for masques. Although there are some notable exceptions. MS 734 (c. The change was quite sudden: of two comparable sequences of consort dance music in manuscripts apparently compiled by court wind players. only to enjoy a revival soon after 1600. and Lachrimae is remarkable for its lack of pairs. pavans and galliards continued to dominate the Anglo-German repertory for several decades. particularly by composers working in the Anglo-German repertory. US-NH. 1615). The fashion for pairing pavans and galliards declined in late Elizabethan England. Almains consists of twenty-seven pavan-galliard pairs. The late Elizabethan pavan The pavan came to dominate the Elizabethan dance repertory at a time when it was in decline in some parts of Europe.The dance types in later Elizabethan collections. such as Philips’s 1580 Pavan and ‘Lachrimae’.16 Little need be said about the Elizabethan almand. Galliards. as we shall see. were drawn partly or possibly exclusively from the English repertory (see Chapter 2). while the Jacobean layer of GBCfm.

only three of the ten pavans in Lachrimae have regular strains. as do twenty-six of the fifty-three pavans in Kassel MS 125. and the genre increased steadily in complexity and musical interest during Elizabeth’s reign.20 By the end of the century irregular strains had become almost routine: nine of the twentyseven pavans in Holborne’s Pavans.23 A slightly more sophisticated variant of this pattern is the eight-breve 32 . 1570). and this not just because of their irregular strains. or eight-breve strains divided into two four-breve phrases with matching openings leading to contrasted cadences. see Chapter 4) is the bestknown example. as in the first strain of a keyboard pavan by ‘Mr Marchant’. and was probably the model for a number of pavans with triple-time passages in the Anglo-German repertory. The pavan’s galliard is ascribed to ‘Innocents’ – presumably the Innocent of Cremona who joined the English court violin consort in 1550. it was probably written soon after 1570. Most English pavans written around 1600 seem about as far removed from the dance floor as the examples by Fauré and Ravel. and a beautiful one by Joseph Lupo based on Lassus’s chanson ‘Susanne un jour’ with a second strain of eight-and-a-half breves. Since Morley advised composers to keep to strains of even numbers of breves so that their pavans could be danced to.19 Pavans with strains of uneven numbers of breves become much more common in later Elizabethan sources.21 It has a brief triple-time section in the last strain. Morley’s ‘Sacred End Pavan’ (so called because it ends with an idea used in several anthems. Early Elizabethan pavans sometimes have strains of four breves. Galliards. Almains have them.18 But this does not necessarily mean that the English continued to dance the pavan long after other nations.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) manuals are anything to go by. As early as the Arundel part-books there are a few pieces – such as a group of three canonic pavans and one scored for five bass instruments22 – that seem designed to be listened to rather than danced to. it was more or less obsolete there by 1600. There is one with a five-breve strain in the Dublin Virginal Book (c. when the chanson was published in London. The most extreme type of irregularity encountered in pavans is when the last strain turns wholly or partially into triple time. the presence of a strain of five breves in a pavan in the Arundel part-books suggests it was not written for dancing. for there are signs even in the Arundel part-books that it had begun to make the transition from functional dance to abstract musical genre.

the first of no. the second of no. Galliards. Tonality There has been a recent tendency to try to explain the tonality of all types of Renaissance music in terms of modal theory. no. and composers began to develop special effects or ‘topics’ in their third strains. as in Morley’s ‘Sacred End Pavan’. 4° MS mus. such as ‘Southerne’s Pavan’ by Morley.26 Peter Philips also seems to have started a fashion for chromatic passages with his ‘Dolorosa Pavan’ of 1593. In the 1580s and 90s English pavans became increasingly complex and contrapuntal. 35. Almains. and we shall see in Chapter 4 how Dowland developed it to an unprecedented degree in the ‘passionate pavans’.24 Later composers such as Philips or Holborne had no trouble writing continuous strains of eight or more breves. Philips probably got the idea from Nicholas Strogers’s fine ‘In Nomine Pavan’. ‘Posthuma’. and a number of pieces in the Anglo-German repertory. 7. Sometimes ideas were borrowed from other genres. Dowland used the device in all three strains of ‘Lachrimae’. and the first and third of no. though some of the simpler (and earlier?) ones in Pavans. though a popular piece by Thomas Tomkins proved even more influential.25 In turn. 1–5. 47. so called because its third strain borrows a three-note accompaniment pattern (but not.27 ‘Lachrimae’ was at the centre of this tradition. including four in D-Kl. 3. which has an apparently invented plainsong-like cantus firmus in the Cantus accompanied by patterns of three repeated notes.The dance types strain that divides into two four-breve contrasted phrases. One of the most influential pieces was Peter Philips’s 1580 Pavan. 51. Galliards. 15. the cantus firmus) from a popular In Nomine by Robert Parsons. but it is not clear that the composers of Elizabethan dance music thought in those terms. but more often the models were other pavans. Pavans. Philips’s 1580 Pavan influenced many later works. 125. good examples are the first strain of no. oddly. 37. Almains still cadence on the first beat of the fourth or fifth breve of an eight-breve strain while maintaining melodic or contrapuntal momentum. the third of no. all three of no. as in the first strain of a pavan by Augustine Bassano copied by Francis Tregian. so that a web of subtle connections developed. Holborne’s ‘Decrevi’. Morley explained the modes in some detail in the annotations to the third part of 33 .

Tone 2 (G minor) between E flat and C sharp. Morley was at a loss when he tried to explain modulation. C major (5). A minor (3) and E minor (4). and described possible modulations to (in modern terms) the dominant and the relative major of 34 . or Moode.28 Similarly. stepping outside the ambitus or range of the mode. describing the ‘Eight Tunes’ or psalm tones used by ‘the churchmen for keeping their keys’ merely as ‘some shadow of the ancient “modi” whereof Boethius and Glareanus have written so much’. G minor (2). His Philomathes asks whether there is a ‘general rule to be given for an instruction for keeping of the key’.29 A ‘Table of Tones’. which only became common in English consort music in the 1620s and 30s. Thomas Campion paid lip-service to the modes in the section on ‘the Tones of Musicke’ in his New Way of Making Fowre Parts in Counter-point (?1613–14). for it must proceed only of the judgement of the composer’.’ Campion was much more specific.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) A Plaine and Easie Introduction. Tone 1 (D minor) normally ranges between B flat and G sharp. a concept foreign to the modal system. Elizabethan dance music inhabits the same tonal landscape. though had the list been compiled in England it might have included C minor and B flat major rather than E minor and D major. Tone 3 (A minor) between B flat and G sharp. etc. but gave the impression in the main text that they were obsolete. F major (6). . and Morley could only use the terminology of the hexachord system to discuss modulation: ‘though the air of every key be different one from the other yet some love (by a wonder of nature) to be joined to others. set down around 1620 in a manuscript of John Bull’s keyboard music in Vienna. 1547) had been reduced to eight. and the tone is defined as much by the accidentals used as by the ‘final’ or concluding note. and Tones 2 and 6 have a B flat key signature. Composers increasingly exploited the full range of stringed instruments. or Tone . likewise if you begin your song in D sol re you may end in A re and come again to D sol re. so that if you begin your song in Gam ut you may conclude it either in C fa ut or D sol re and from thence come again to Gam ut. D major (7) and G major (8). and so on. The system of authentic and plagal modes has been abandoned.30 The first four are effectively minor keys. though he stated that ‘the Key. . shows that the twelve church modes as codified by Glareanus in his Dodecachordon (Basle. while the others are major keys. all signifie the same thing’. D minor (1). but the Master replies ‘No.

where composers could draw on established idioms of written-out variations to elaborate them at some length. 25. Coactae’ and ‘Amantis’. five Tone 2 pavans by Holborne in Pavans.The dance types G minor and A minor. nos. ‘strange and informal to the Air’ and ‘sparingly to bee used’. Charles Butler recognised the dominant and the relative major as ‘Secundari Cadences’. or C major. 35 . Galliards. the modern traits are present in the pavans of the early Elizabethan Arundel partbooks just as strongly as those by Holborne and Dowland. Tones 1 and 3. which showed mid-century English composers how to organise their dance music using patterns of logical progressions punctuated by regular cadences. I believe this is because of the influence of Italian chord sequences such as the Passamezzo antico (usually I–VII–I–V / I–VII–I–V–I in Tone 2). Almains. while the pattern used in ‘Tristes’. G major (which of course has no relative major). But their influence can also be heard in many early consort pavans. Not surprisingly. the influence of Italian chord sequences became diluted later. 3 outlines I–I / VII–I. ‘Unton’ outlines I–I / V–V / III–I . recalls the ‘strange and informal’ modulations to the supertonic advocated by Campion. the subdominant. while the two-strain Tone 8 pavan no. and the Bergamasca (usually I–IV–V–I in Tone 5). though they still seem to govern the outline progressions of many more harmonically complex pavans. Campion suggests closes in A minor. 1. A fivepart piece in the Arundel part-books 32 is a mixture of Passamezzo antico and Romanesca patterns. Taking the chords that begin and end strains. In Tone 8. the Romanesca (usually III–VII–I–V / III–VII–I–V–I in Tone 2). 31 and 33 outline I–I / V–V / III–I. Similar things can be found in Lachrimae: ‘Gementes’ outlines I–I / VII–V / V–I. 23. while the pavan by ‘Master Tayler’ in the Dublin Virginal Book begins as an elaboration of the Bergamasca and hardly departs from the ‘three-chord trick’. 41 as I–I / VII–V / I–I. the Passamezzo moderno (usually I–IV–I–V / I–IV–I–V–I in Tone 8). Striking juxtapositions such as I–VII and V–III in these English pavans surely owe more to Italian chord sequences than to modal thinking.31 It is striking that the harmonic idiom of English dance music did not become noticeably more modern during Elizabeth’s reign. the supertonic. a pattern developed in no. but thought those on the second. Most English settings of Italian chord sequences are in the lute and keyboard repertories. sixth and seventh degrees of the scale ‘Improper Cadences’. I–I / II–V / V–I.

and a number of others come from manuscripts that apparently date from before 1604. keyboard. the earliest source of the famous lute-song setting. and was originally intended for a six-course lute – which suggests it is a relatively early work. Why are there seven of them? How are they related? Do they contain ideas borrowed from other composers? Were they intended to be performed as a cycle? What is the significance of the Latin titles? Do they have any bearing on their musical character? How does the cycle exemplify the Elizabethan cult of melancholy? ‘Lachrimae Antiquae’ Any attempt to answer these questions must begin with ‘Antiquae’.2 By contrast. recorder. It was perhaps the single most popular and widely distributed instrumental piece of the period: it occurs in about a hundred manuscripts and prints from England. in the early 1590s. lyra viol. seems to be The Second 36 . mixed consort. the ‘Old Tears’. division viol. bandora. 2.and five-part viols or violins. Dd. cittern. violin. 81. yet they also raise many questions. in settings for lute solo. Germany. f. lute trio with two viols. Sweden and Italy. The Netherlands. As its title indicates.4 The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’ The seven pavans that begin Lachrimae are among the best-known and best-loved pieces of instrumental music written before the eighteenth century. ‘Flow my teares’. it was not new when Lachrimae appeared. lute duet. Denmark. Scotland. One of the earliest was copied by Matthew Holmes into GB-Cu.1 The sources suggest that the earliest ‘Lachrimae’ was for solo lute. France. and four. Of the eighteen copies in English lute books. Austria. as well as a number of song versions.11. Their serene beauty speaks for itself. one was printed by William Barley in his New Booke of Tabliture (1596).

Each time they wrote them down they doubtless would have felt free to vary the details. and had connections with the Italian villanella and the French voix de ville – genres that involved adding words to existing popular tunes. G minor. since it is the key of the copy in Dd. 1–5.5 To complicate things further. This explains why popular pieces often circulated in a number of variant versions. 1600) by the Leipzig lutenist Johann Rude. The song is almost certainly an adaptation of the pavan rather than the other way round. intended recipients. and its title could be taken to mean that it is an arrangement from a five-part consort setting in that key. published in 1600. f. much as jazz musicians do today. to suit particular circumstances. ff. and it is a good key for the lute. while there is another A minor version without divisions in GB-Lbl.11. 125. and in general the type of lute song he popularised had its roots in the English broadside ballad. is a pre-publication version of ‘Antiquae’. is in G minor. for Dowland headed it ‘Lacrime’ as if it was a version of a well-known piece. no.1353.The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’ Booke of Songs or Ayres. 11v (c.4 But the situation is not that simple. ‘Pavana a 5 voc. I have argued that the five-part A minor setting in Kassel 4° MS mus. 91 in Flores musicae ii (Heidelberg. Dowland and his contemporaries would have played their own pieces in a semi-improvised manner from a memorised ‘gist’. 75v–77.3 Dowland seems to have arranged a number of his songs from instrumental dances (see Chapter 5). 1595). MS Hirsch M.11. was subsequently chosen for the benefit of the singers in ‘Flow my teares’ and the stringed instruments in ‘Antiquae’. Dulandi Angli’. 81.2. Matthew Holmes copied a fine but little-known A minor setting into Dd. 37 . and most of those in lute sources. a souvenir of one of Dowland’s visits to the town in the 1590s. or just changing fashion.2. A minor and D minor. and it also suggests that ‘Antiquae’ is an independent working from the common ‘Lachrimae’ gist rather than an arrangement dependent on some ‘original’ lute setting. Moreover. The settings of ‘Lachrimae’ divide by key into three groups. All this goes to show that we are wrong to look for a ‘definitive’ or ‘original’ version of ‘Lachrimae’. no. the earliest datable continental lute setting. f. 42. and the poem has no metrical regularity: it shows signs of having been written to fit the tune. a few pages earlier than the G minor one. a less idiomatic lute key. Diana Poulton argued that G minor was Dowland’s original choice. as we might do for a piece by Bach or Chopin. She suggested that A minor.

5 of the Cantus. 3 or the declamatory passage in bb. there are falling or rising fourths outlined in every bar of the Cantus except 12–14. Furthermore. Earlier composers tended to make do with one or two distinctive ideas per strain. and they also occur regularly in the Bassus. padding them out with rather featureless and uncoordinated free contrapuntal writing. By contrast. and gradually becomes aware that they are tightly and economically controlled. an extraordinary amount of the material of ‘Antiquae’ (from now on my analysis refers specifically to the five-part setting in Lachrimae) derives in some way from the famous four-note motif a –g –f –e that begins the Cantus. G. 11–12. As Lionel Pike has pointed out.1). Two other significant details need to be mentioned at this stage: the figure (a) that rises by step at different speeds at the opening of the Altus and Tenor. allowing for an octave transposition and the omission of the second note. and what probably ensured its popularity. 5–6 of the bass. either rising. 38 . c –b –a –g . and there is little padding. This tear motif. The ear also notices that it is reflected in the simultaneous minor sixths in the Quintus and the Bassus. 4. divided internally by cadences at bb. most of them are related. eight and eight-and-a-half breves. What was new about the piece. then. in ‘Lachrimae’ the listener is immediately struck by the number of meaningful ideas. as I shall call it. is answered by another. That is why an unusual amount of detail from the inner parts was preserved in the gist transmitted in later arrangements. 5. even in the inner parts of ‘Antiquae’. a musical emblem of falling tears. and the falling fifth in quavers (b) in the middle of b. is the gist of ‘Lachrimae’? The Tone 3 pavan consists of three strains of eight. or the contrapuntal idea in bb. 10 of the Quintus. was the concise richness of its melodic and motivic writing.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) What. and that the Bassus also outlines the descending tetrachord. echoed in such places as bb. b. the fourths and the thirds are cunningly related by the plaintive minor sixth that links the two tetrachords at the beginning of the Cantus. particularly in the first and third strains.6 Thirds are also constantly used. or falling. 12–14. as in the brief contrapuntal passage in b. such as the keyboard settings by Sweelinck and his followers. outlining the conventional harmonic pattern I–I–I / III–IV–V / V–V–I. as in the sequential sighing motif in b. 3 of the Altus (see Ex. In fact. 12 and 20. a third higher.

indeed. As often happens in English pavans. E–D–C–B and A–G–F–E.7 The tone–tone–semitone pattern of the falling tetrachord was exploited in the Renaissance for its affective power. the phrygian mode is made up of two such tetrachords. returns to an E major chord in b. The phrygian colour returns in the third strain: it starts with two bars of dominant pedal on E. and is then taken up with a contrapuntal point that features the expressive four-note figure E–B–C–B.1 ‘Antiquae’. effectively the phrygian mode on E. 20. Note also how Dowland achieves 39 . bb. making it similar to the hypoaeolian tenth mode as described by Glareanus and Zarlino. the tonality changes abruptly at the beginning of the second strain: the music starts in C major and touches D minor before settling again on to a phrygian cadence on E. but one can also hear the influence of Tone 4. When A–G–F–E occurs in the Bassus.The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’ Ex. it makes the characteristic phrygian cadence of the Baroque period. as it does repeatedly in the first and third strains. 4. equivalent to A minor. The pavan is formally in Tone 3. 1–8 (lute part omitted) a b a 5 2 The tetrachord also colours the tonality of ‘Lachrimae’.

all the night long I make my bed to swim. I water my couch with tears’.12 Clearly. and sets a highly relevant text: ‘I am weary with my groaning. as well as Josquin’s ‘Mille regrets’ and Victoria’s 1572 setting of ‘O vos omnes’.8 But the semitone falls in the wrong place in the former.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) a sense of climax by pushing the top note of the Cantus up a step in each strain. though there is another connection between ‘Lachrimae’ and the Seven Penitential Psalms. the first of his Psalmi Davidis poenitentiales (Munich.9 John Ward questioned the need to search for a model. as well as the observation that ‘the tones a g f e also form the basis of most Romanesca discants’. a single-line division part in the Arundel part-books. There is no direct evidence that Dowland knew Lassus’s cycle. but offered the opening of ‘Smith’s Pavan’ (actually ‘pavana Bryches’). and it is familiar as the standard form of the Passacaglia ground bass. The tear motif Several writers have claimed to find models for the tear motif.2). which became associated with laments in the 1620s and 30s.11 Its chromatic form was also developed as a grief emblem in ascending as well as descending forms. the falling tetrachord is a commonplace. Wert.10 The problem with this line of enquiry is that. a standard emblem of grief. More promisingly. 1584) (see Ex. 40 . from c . as we shall see. Marenzio. Lionel Pike has drawn attention to its occurrences in madrigals by Giovanni Gabrieli. David Pinto has drawn attention to Lassus’s setting of the words ‘Laboravi in gemitu meo’ in ‘Domine ne in furore tuo’. Rudolf Henning suggested Rore’s madrigal ‘Quando lieto sperai’. to establish a credible connection between ‘Lachrimae’ and earlier compositions we need more than four notes in common. which sets a slightly elaborated tetrachord to the words ‘lagrime dunque’. by itself. 4. to d . Monteverdi and others.13 Like ‘Lachrimae’. and occurs unobtrusively in the middle of a phrase of the latter. the passage is in Tone 3 with phrygian leanings. and finally to e . Otto Mies and Diana Poulton respectively suggested Créquillon’s chanson ‘Cessez mes yeulx’ and Cauleray’s ‘En esperant’. notably in Dowland’s ‘Forlorn Hope’ and ‘Farewell’ fantasias. In fact. there are two works probably known to Dowland that use the complete tear motif – the two tetrachords connected by the minor sixth.

The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’ Ex. 4.2 O. Lassus, ‘Laboravi in gemitu meo’, bb. 1–4, from ‘Domine ne in furore tuo’
La - bo- ra-vi, la bo-ra - vi, la bo - ra vi

La - bo- ra-vi,

la - bo- ra -vi,

la - bo -

ra

-

-

vi

La

-

bo-ra- vi, La - bo-ra -

la - bo-ra vi,

la -

bo - ra

-

vi vi

La

-

bo-ra- vi,

la

- bo-ra -

vi

Dowland would certainly have known the other work, ‘Parto da voi, mio sole’ from Marenzio’s third book of six-part madrigals (Venice, 1585), for it was reprinted as ‘Now I must part’ in Musica transalpina (1588), and it has been suggested that the original Italian text was the inspiration for the text of Dowland’s song ‘Now, O now I needs must part’ from The First Booke.14 We should not be surprised that Dowland looked to Marenzio for inspiration. He travelled to Italy in 1595 to study with the Italian and extolled his virtues in The First Booke, even printing a rather inconsequential letter from him, ‘not thinking it any disgrace to be proud of the judgement of so excellent a man’. Furthermore, he based part of his song ‘Would my conceit that first enforced my woe’ from The First Booke on Marenzio’s ‘Ahi, dispietata morte’.15 ‘Parto da voi, mio sole’, also in Tone 3, contains the complete tear motif using the same pitches and virtually the same rhythms, though it is in the Altus rather than the Cantus, and the last note is a G natural rather than G sharp. What makes the passage more significant is that the tear motif is accompanied by rising figures in the Cantus and the Sextus similar to (a) at the beginning of Dowland’s Altus and Tenor (see Ex. 4.3). Another madrigal by Marenzio, the five-part ‘Rivi, fontane, e fiumi’ from the anthology Le gioie musicali (Venice, 1589), also begins with a rising idea similar to (a) accompanying a version of the tear motif in paired imitation that is strikingly similar to the opening of ‘Verae’.16 Dowland used this contrapuntal version of the motif in the third strain
41

Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) Ex. 4.3 L. Marenzio, ‘Parto da voi, mio sole’, bb. 1–3
Par to da voi,

Par

-

-

to

da

Par voi,

par

to -

da to

da

voi, voi,

Par

-

to -

da

voi,

Par

to

da

voi,

Ex. 4.4 L. Marenzio, ‘Rivi, fontane, e fiumi’, bb. 1–3
Ri vi, fon - ta ne,

Ri

-

-

-

-

-

vi,

fon - ta

-

-

ne,

Ri

-

-

-

-

-

-

vi,

fon

-

-

ta -

Ri

-

-

-

-

vi,

fon - ta

-

-

-

of ‘Tristes’ and the opening of ‘Amantis’. Note also the falling quavers in the Tenor, b. 2, similar to (b) in ‘Antiquae’ (see Ex. 4.4). Of course, we have no means of knowing how conscious any of these borrowings were, though at the very least they suggest that Dowland was immersed in the music of his great continental contemporaries.

Musical rhetoric
Why was Dowland attracted to Marenzio? At first sight it is strange that a famous lutenist at the height of his powers should want to travel to Italy to study with a madrigal composer – a genre to which he never contributed, so far as we know. Dowland was doubtless caught up by the enthusiasm for the Italian madrigal in Elizabethan England. Marenzio, the
42

The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’

most famous madrigalist of his generation, was particularly venerated in England. He dominated the printed anthologies – Thomas Watson’s Italian Madrigals Englished (1590) consists almost entirely of his works – and was praised by Morley and Henry Peacham, Dowland’s friend and neighbour.17 Peacham wrote in The Compleat Gentleman (1622; repr. 1968) that Marenzio was ‘a little and blacke man’ who excelled everyone ‘for delicious Aire and sweet Invention in Madrigals’; he listed works ‘the Muses themselves might not have been ashamed to have had composed’. But Marenzio’s madrigals also exemplified techniques that could be applied to other genres. We are familiar with the techniques of literal word-painting associated with the madrigal. As Morley put it, ‘you must have a care that when your matter signifieth “ascending”, “high”, “heaven”, and such like you make your music ascend; and by the contrary where your ditty speaketh of “descending”, “lowness”, “depth”, “hell”, and others such, you must make your music descend’. He also wrote about more subtle ways in which harmony can be made to express emotion. One of his examples is virtually a description of ‘Lachrimae’: ‘when you would express a lamentable passion, then must you use motions proceeding by half notes, flat thirds, and flat sixths, which of their nature are sweet, specially being taken in the true tune and natural air with discretion and judgement’.18 Unfortunately, Morley ignored the most important element of the Italian style: the use of rhetorical figures to create a musical language of heightened and focused emotional intensity. As Robin Headlam Wells has pointed out, in the absence of formal academies in England, the Elizabethans looked to books on rhetoric to disseminate humanist ideas.19 Several contemporary writers pointed out that the standard rhetorical devices used to heighten emotion in literature had musical counterparts. Francis Bacon wrote in Sylva sylvarum (1627) that ‘There be in Musick certaine Figures, or Tropes; almost agreeing with the Figures of Rhetorike; And with the Affections of the Minde, and other Senses’. Henry Peacham made the same point at greater length: ‘Yea in my opinion, no Rhetorique more perswadeth, or hath greater power over the mind; nay, hath not Musicke her figures, the same which Rhetorique? What is a Revert [contrary motion] but her Antistrophe? her reports [imitation], but sweete Anaphora’s? her counterchange of points, Antimetabole’s?
43

12. since the technique of imitation involved matching an appropriate musical figure to each phrase of a text. the repetition of figures in an ascending sequence. and the constant repetition of figures was the musical equivalent of anaphora. but that he may add.22 It was recognised that the intensification of emotion produced by auxesis or gradatio was made more effective by preparing it with a 44 . and partly by relating the three ideas to each other: (c) is mostly concerned with falling thirds.21 While some apply directly to speaking and (by extension) singing. but tightly organised. imitative counterpoint was one of the most important rhetorical devices available to the composer. But Dowland ensures the continuity necessary in a pavan partly by extending (c) over the internal cadence on the first beat at b. at least among lutenist composers. but Prosopopoeas? with infinite other of the same nature’. climax or anabasis.5). in force of signifycation’. As Morley put it in his description of the fantasia: ‘in this may more art be shown than in any other music because the composer is tied to nothing. and sighes. The basic rhetorical device exemplified by (d) is auxesis. or the sententious figures of repetition in poetry. making the latter word always exceede the former. imitative. corresponding to the phrases ‘since pittie is fled’ (c). and can in some cases be extended to musical composition – and to music that does not depend on words. As Peacham recognised. The second strain of ‘Antiquae’ contains three imitative points. ‘rhetorical’ counterpoint was relatively rare in dance music before Dowland. is variously called gradatio. which are converted into rising thirds in (d) and decorated in (e) (see Ex. Such relationships are more common in instrumental music than vocal music because composers did not have to produce appropriately contrasted material for each phrase of the text. diminish. The second and third strains of ‘Antiquae’ illustrate the point. 4. ‘and teares. Counterpoint was all-pervasive in polyphonic vocal music. others were formulated for literary composition. and groanes’ (d) and ‘my wearie dayes’ (e) in the third verse of ‘Flow my teares’. Its musical equivalent.20 These rhetorical figures have recently been studied by writers concerned with the performance of English lute songs. and alter at his pleasure’.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) her passionate Aires. Henry Peacham senior (the father of Dowland’s friend) described it in The Garden of Eloquence (1577) as ‘when we make our saying grow and increase by an orderly placing of our words.

till it is at the utmost height of it’.24 More evidence. . perhaps. style of delivery or musical pitch – illustrated by (c). bb. . rising. 4. and sighes.23 The problem with (d) in ‘Flow my teares’ is that it is set to words – ‘and teares. in subject matter. 9–16 (lute part omitted) d 10 c [] [] [] e 15 descent. ‘[To] make the matter seeme the higher advaunced. reflective figure rather than a confident. and griefe. ‘’Tis manifest that the Voyce must be rais’d accordingly by the same degrees of elevation to answer every step of the Figure. it is an ornament of speech. while Athanasius Kircher wrote (1650) that anabasis or ascensio ‘is a musical passage through which we express exalted. One is harmonic rather than melodic: the recurring g –g false relations are 45 . The third strain of ‘Antiquae’ has two rhetorical ideas. that ‘Lachrimae’ was originally an instrumental pavan. or elevated and eminent thoughts’. According to Michel Le Faucheur (1657).5 ‘Antiquae’. to begin att the lowest that you the better aspire to the height of amplyficacion’.The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’ Ex. sometimes [the figure] descends the lower . rising figure and the increase of volume associated with such figures. and grones’ or ‘and feare. and paine’ – that seem to call for a falling. As John Hoskins wrote (1599).

The nature of the cycle We do not know when Dowland had the idea of creating seven pavans out of ‘Antiquae’. gladnesse. 4. from b. It is a good example of ecphonesis or exclamatio. or any such lyke. & outcry to expresse the passions of our minde. ‘Gementes’. O rare and singuler bewty. marveyling. which is not the best rhetorical match for the music. O wicked impudency. bb.6 ‘Antiquae’. O cursed misery.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) Ex. O lamentable estate. sorrow. 46 . we breake out in voyce with an exclamation. as (f ) does (see Ex. though ‘Antiquae Novae’. the use of pungent language to reprehend the hearers for some fault.25 The other is the contrapuntal point (f ) that takes up its second half. according to the anonymous author of Rhetorica ad Herennium. Dowland set it to the phrase ‘Happie.6). happie they that in hell’. feare. This is another hint that the words of ‘Flow my teares’ were added to ‘Lachrimae’. we shall see in a moment that the figure (f ) is connected with sacred rather than secular words. ‘Tristes’. since it draws attention to the word ‘happy’ to the detriment of the meaning of the phrase as a whole. 20–5 (lute part omitted) 20 f [] f f f [] f [] examples of parrhesia. one of the ‘sharp figures’ that Henry Peacham senior thought suitable for stirring up vehement emotions: when through affection either of anger. ‘Coactae’. 4. O joy imcomparable. after this manner.26 Dowland and his contemporaries usually set expletives of this sort to figures that begin with a syncopated long note followed by shorter notes. 20.

The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’

‘Amantis’ and ‘Verae’ may have been written especially for Lachrimae: none of them exists in lute settings, and only ‘Antiquae Novae’ is found in any other contemporary source – Thomas Simpson published his own five-part arrangement in 1610.27 It is not always appreciated today how novel the concept of a sequence of seven related pavans was. Of course, the technique of creating one dance out of another was fundamental to Renaissance dance music: galliards were routinely modelled on pavans, tordions on basse danses and so on, and soon after 1600 German composers began to publish suite-like sequences of dances with some related movements. But only Dowland thought of writing a variation cycle using a single type of dance rather than a selection of the dances of the day, and he was the first composer to use dance forms and variation techniques to explore the elevated areas of feeling hitherto exclusively associated with contrapuntal genres such as the motet or the fantasia. Why seven pavans? The number seven was thought to be numerologically significant, and Lionel Pike has also suggested that Dowland chose it partly because it combines four and three, the intervals that dominate ‘Lachrimae’.28 But there are also obvious parallels with other seven-fold cycles, such as the Seven Last Words of Jesus on the Cross, the Seven Sorrows of Mary, the Seven Deadly Sins, and the Seven Penitential Psalms. We have seen that Dowland may have found the tear motif in a passage from Lassus’s setting of the Penitential Psalms, and he would certainly have known William Hunnis’s Seven Sobs of a Sorrowfull Soule for Sinne (1581), a collection of devotional verse including ‘those seven Psalmes of the Princelie Prophet of David, commonlie called Pœnitentiall: framed into a forme of familiar praiers, and reduced into meeter’. It was enduringly popular: ten reprints are known between 1583 and 1629.29 There is an unexpected if tortuous connection between Hunnis’s Seven Sobs of a Sorrowfull Soule for Sinne and ‘Lachrimae’. Two anthems, Morley’s ‘O Jesu meeke’ and Thomas Weelkes’s ‘Give ear, O Lord’, are settings of lines from a section of the book entitled ‘A Handfull of Honiesuckles’. The two anthems are also related to each other and to Christopher Tye’s anthem ‘I lift my heart to thee’ (a setting of Psalm 25, v. 1) by the fact that they have essentially the same refrain, ‘Mercie, good Lord, mercie’ or ‘have mercie now on mee’, set to passages of counterpoint using the same figure (f ) that Dowland used in ‘Lachrimae’
47

Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)

(see Ex. 4.6).30 This idea appears at the end of Morley’s ‘Sacred End’ pavan, hence its name, and is also the subject of Daniel Farrant’s ‘FourNote’ pavan, which in turn seems to be a pair with Alfonso Ferrabosco II’s ‘Four-Note’ pavan, based on a different four-note figure.31 Like ‘Lachrimae’, Ferrabosco’s pavan was used as a song, Ben Jonson’s ‘Hymn to God the Father’, ‘Hear me, O God’. Thus, while it is not clear exactly what the significance of these relationships is, they certainly suggest that the ‘Sacred End’ figure, as I shall call it, has some sort of religious significance. In this connection, it is interesting that Dowland gave his pavan the title ‘Lachrimae’, ‘tears’, and the cycle the subtitle ‘seaven teares’. In Elizabethan literature tears were normally expected from women, children and old men, and were associated with moderate emotion. As Marjory E. Lange puts it, ‘a person does not weep for minor sorrow; and in extraordinary anguish, one is more apt to throw up, or void’.32 But in some circumstances it was acceptable for men to weep in a religious situation. Indeed, their tears could be thought of as an emblem of their status as a penitent before God, as John Donne put it: ‘Powre new seas in mine eyes, so that I might / Drowne my world with my weeping earnestly, / Or wash it, if it must be drown’d no more’.33 There were biblical precedents: David wept for his son Absalom, Peter wept over his betrayal of Jesus, and, of course, Jesus wept for Lazarus.34 There is no reason to think that ‘Lachrimae’ is specifically a portrait of female tears, so it is likely that the pavan had some religious significance for Dowland, as the connections with the Penitential Psalms imply. How can this help us understand the significance of the Latin titles? They have baffled most scholars. Peter Warlock wrote that ‘it cannot be said that they go very far in the direction of illustrating the different adjectives bestowed on them’, while Ernst Meyer, Diana Poulton and Warwick Edwards avoided any discussion of their meaning.35 However, in an article concerned with esoteric readings of Dowland’s songs, Anthony Rooley wrote that they ‘can be seen as a Hermetic cycle describing the fall and rise of the journeying soul’, and added: ‘Fortunately his epigrammatic Latin titles provide the key to his intentions in these pavans; without them we would have been left forever in the dark’. But he did not enlighten his readers further, and his attempt to connect Dowland and his music to occult Neoplatonist philosophy is controversial, to say the least.36
48

The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’

Recently, David Pinto has proposed an orthodox religious interpretation of the Latin titles, taking his cue from the connection between ‘Antiquae’ and the Lassus Penitential Psalm.37 He suggests that the tears are those of the penitent, starting with those caused by original sin (‘Antiquae’), and the subsequent sins of fallen mankind (‘Antiquae Novae’). His woes (‘Gementes’) and grief (‘Tristes’) force him into apostasy (‘Coactae’). But his penitent soul wakes to the love of God (‘Amantis’), and is redeemed by divine compassion (‘Verae’). This is an attractive idea, not least because it helps to explain the enigmatic oxymoronic title ‘Antiquae Novae’, the ‘new old tears’. He suggests that it refers to St Augustine’s famous phrase ‘pulchritudo tam antiqua et tam nova’ (‘O thou Beauty both so ancient and so fresh’), a reference to the ‘old yet new’ beauty of God, the implication being that the ‘old-new’ tears represent the renewal of original sin in every fallen mortal.38 His proposal also has an interesting autobiographical dimension: he implies that the penitent is Dowland himself, and that ‘Coactae’ (literally ‘enforced tears’) is concerned with his moment of apostasy from his Catholic faith in the 1595 letter to Cecil. But there are several problems with this exclusively religious interpretation. One is that it presupposes Dowland was still a Catholic in 1603–4: Pinto suggests that he dedicated Lachrimae to Queen Anne as a fellow Catholic sympathiser who could offer him protection. Dowland certainly admitted to Cecil that he had flirted with Catholicism in his youth: when he was in Paris around 1580 he ‘fell aquainted’ with some English Catholics who ‘thrust many Idle toies into my hed of Relygion’, and ‘being but yonge their faire wordes overecht me & I beleved w(i)t(h) them’. But he must have subscribed to the Thirty-Nine Articles when he received his B.Mus. degree at Christ Church, Oxford on 8 July 1588, and there is no reason to doubt his unequivocal statement of allegiance later in the letter to Cecil:
god he knoweth I never loved treason nor trechery nor never knew of any, nor never heard any mass in englande, wh(i)ch I finde is great abuse of the peple for on my soule I understande it not, wherefor I hav reformed my self to lyve acording to her ma(jes)ties lawes as I was borne under her highnes.39

Furthermore, although Pinto makes a good case for a connection between the Lassus Penitential Psalm and ‘Antiquae’, there do not seem
49

and ugly to behold in respect of theirs. &c.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) to be any connections between other motets in Lassus’s cycle and the rest of the ‘Lachrimae’ pavans. comparing The Netherlands favourably with England. draws on the types of melancholy described by Robert Burton in his Anatomy of Melancholy (1621) and by other Elizabethan and Jacobean writers. and those vile. so painefully preserved by those Artificiall inventions . our Cities thin.40 A feature of the English literature on melancholy is its tendency to classify it into a number of distinct types that can be thought of either as phases in the malady that a single individual might suffer or as ‘characters’ exemplified by different types of individual. as they often were in Jacobean drama. with an extraordinary sadnesse. poore. a faintnesse of heart. and on the other side so many thousand acres of our Fens lye drowned. a chearlesnesse. a predominent melancholy. ‘God hath accompanied. I believe that these states are reflected to some extent in the character of the pavans. . so much land recovered from the Sea. Melancholy Melancholy was the fashionable malady of the late Elizabethan age. and evoking in the process a series of images startlingly at variance with our modern clichés of the Elizabethan Golden Age: those rich United Provinces of Holland. &c. nor does he offer any musical evidence for his interpretation of the character of the seven pavans. a joylesnesse of spirit’. full of most industrious Artificers. challenges to religious and intellectual certainties. so many navigable channels from place to place. made by mens hands. and complicated almost all our bodily diseases of these times. . Burton claimed there were no fewer than eighty-eight ‘degrees’ of melancholy.41 They also recognised that melancholy particularly affected Englishmen. complementary rather than contradictory in some respects. in the words of John Donne. wholly 50 . Zealand. frustrated ambition. Burton diagnosed idleness as a cause. but the last five of the seven pavans do seem to represent some of the most important types. those neat Cities and populous Townes. An alternative. or just fin-de-siècle malaise – but they agreed that. Burton and his contemporaries diagnosed many causes – social change. over against us. political uncertainty. our still running rivers stopped. and that beneficiall use of transportation. our trades decayed.

barren Heaths. &c. Henry Hawkins made explicit connections between Dowland. and was continually tormented by morbid fears and sorrows.The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’ neglected. sedentary lives. Dowland certainly cultivated a melancholy public persona. . dull. none so powerfull. He naturally preferred solitude and darkness. mirth. Thus the melancholy man was lanky. He signed himself ‘Jo: dolandi de Lachrimae’. Why the obsession with such an unattractive humour? One reason is simply that melancholy was the fashionable ailment of the age. Burton wrote. Music is important in this respect because it was thought to be one of the most powerful antidotes to melancholy. ‘Melancholy Galliard’ and ‘Forlorn Hope Fancy’. ‘In my judgement’. ‘none so present. so many villages depopulated.43 The four humours were the bodily equivalents of the four elements of inanimate matter. taciturn. so many Parkes and Forests for pleasure.44 gave his pieces titles such as ‘Semper Dowland semper Dolens’. inducing melancholy. and to suggest cures. old age and.46 Writers.45 In the emblem book Parthenia sacra ([Rouen]. 1971). philosophers and scholars were thought to be particularly susceptible to melancholy because they led solitary. . and merry company’. They were also concerned with melancholy because they were able to analyse the malady in all its complexity. the season of winter. 1633. jealous and greedy. swarthy. so the melancholy humour was heavy. and because concentrated thinking supposedly dried up the body. the Elizabethans used the word ‘melancholy’ or ‘black bile’ to describe one of the four liquids or humours thought to be naturally present in the body. heavy and sluggish. and melancholy when he wrote that a singing bird was more melancholy than ‘Dowland himself ’ in ‘al his Plaints and Lachrymies’. suspicious. in astrology.42 On the personal level. repr. cold and dry. none so apposite as a cup of strong drinke. musicke. Lachrimae. obstinate. Black bile was thick. and was connected with the element earth. the planet Saturn. . and went on to explain that music is: 51 . he either rages or weeps’ (the titlepage of Lachrimae). as well as the physical and psychological conditions that resulted from an excess of it. so many Havens void of Ships and Townes. and peppered his publications with Latin mottoes such as ‘The arts which help all mankind cannot help their master’ (the title-page of The First Booke) and ‘whom Fortune has not blessed.

that it ravisheth the soul. yet no doubt pleasant are the teares which Musicke weepes. helpes. by sweet pleasure. but the most striking rhetorical ideas have been moved around. which is ingeniously combined in the second strain with a rising figure derived from (a) and. dominatum in animam exercet [speaking without a mouth. it is a most present remedy. 13 of the Quintus. though the title suggests that the anguish is new or has been renewed in some way. but it is a pleasing melancholy that it causeth. extends it. and therefore to such as are discontent. then it follows that it is an exploration of melancholy in general rather than a single aspect. are simple decorations of the equivalent places in ‘Antiquae’.47 Dowland made a similar point in the Lachrimae dedication: ‘though the title doth promise teares. alters their grieved mindes. and have been changed in the process.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) so powerfull a thing. regina sensuum. in b. sorrow. of ‘Antiquae Novae’. neither are teares shed alwayes in sorrowe. Condensed versions of the figures (c). ‘Lachrimae Antiquae Novae’ If we assume. as I think we can. Some of the ideas. and have been swapped with the ‘Sacred End’ motif. which is essentially a straightforward revision and elaboration of ‘Antiquae’. and easeth in an instant’. unfit guests in these joyfull times. One of the functions of his seven pavans. in woe. (which is an happy cure). or dejected. and corporall tunes pacifie our incorporeall soule. This is certainly suggested by the music. When it became the first pavan in a cycle of seven it assumed the role of a general introduction to the subject. and carries it beyond itselfe. sine ore loquens. but sometime in joy and gladnesse’. feare. He also suggested that ‘Many men are melancholy by hearing Musicke. elevates. it exercises domination over the soul]. presumably. a point of departure. the Queene of the sences. (d) and (e) are now in the third strain. it expells cares. such as the pedal passage at the beginning of the second strain. an inverted version of 52 . was to cure the melancholy they so powerfully evoke. the ‘old-new’ tears? I suspect that Dowland also intended this pavan to represent melancholy in general. What then. that ‘Antiquae’ was written long before Dowland had the idea of expanding its material into a cycle of seven pavans.

the ‘immediate restatement of a word or two for greater vehemency’. according to Henry Peacham senior. 4. and the turn into C at the beginning of the second strain is strengthened by replacing the 2–1 motion of the Bassus with a 5–1 motion. has the effect of greatly lessening the phrygian colour. declamatory passage near the beginning of the third strain embodying a cadence on E.7 ‘Gementes’. 10. by a greatly increased use of affective devices. and the 4–3 suspension at the end of the second strain – seem to 53 . Some of them. 1–2 of the Cantus containing a 5–6–5 motif. 4. such as the startling.The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’ Ex. 13–14. bb. an apt illustration of the pavan’s title. groaning or wailing tears’. The result is a more varied. though the A cadence at the end of the first strain is extended and therefore reinforced. together with the transfer of the D minor modulation to the third strain (made necessary by moving (c) and (d)). ‘sighing. The harmonic outline of the pavan is essentially the same as ‘Antiquae’. The figure is a classic example of epizeuxis. the extension of the sequence of falling thirds in bb. 12–13 and 14–15. and by adding subdominant F major harmony on the first beat of b. ‘Lachrimae Gementes’ Dowland illustrates ‘Gementes’. 17–20 (lute part omitted) 20 [] [] [] (b). just serve to raise the temperature in a generalised way. combined with mutatio toni.7). an abrupt change in harmonic direction for expressive purposes (Ex.48 But others – such as the modified version of the tear motif in bb. it is also prolonged by secondary C cadences in bb. This. balanced and modern harmonic scheme.

50 By extension. developed in imitation in bb. The second strain is more concerned with another type of disorder. Furthermore. blaming bad diet. though several dotted crotchet–quaver figures (a grief emblem in later seventeenth-century music) also add to the effect. but 54 . 11 and 22–3 of the Altus. adding to the hysterical atmosphere. the mutatio toni and the inconclusive ending to the second strain – are also found in ‘I saw my lady weepe’. 7. contains the most profoundly sad music. ‘Lachrimae Tristes’ Appropriately. such as the minor sevenths between the outer parts on the first beat of b. the first song in The Second Booke. 6–7 of the Bassus. heresy. the next piece in the collection. and went into exhaustive detail. Burton. and the dominant-seventh chord with an added 9–8 suspension on the first beat of b. fanaticism. ‘Tristes’. and could easily be used to set the same words. 3 of the Altus. and it ends inconclusively with a dominant E major cadence that invites resolution by the first chord of ‘Flow my teares’. 9–10 of the Cantus and Bassus. false relations occur in all but the last two bars of the strain. It is significant that Dowland used the ‘Sacred End’ figure in all three strains: it is in b. the sighing figure that begins the third strain sounds like a modification of the ‘Sacred End’ figure. religious melancholy could include superstition. alluded to in bb. Daniel Leech-Wilkinson has argued that ‘I saw my Lady weepe’ was conceived as the first part of a pair with ‘Flow my teares’. atheism or hypocrisy. and alluded to in bb. A number of them – the 5–6–5 sighing motif. 3 and the third beat of b. bigotry. It starts with an unexpected B major chord (a reference to the mutatio toni near the beginning of the second strain of ‘Gementes’). I suspect that Dowland spread it throughout the pavan because he was thinking specifically of the sighs and groans of religious melancholy. and solitude as causes. ‘Sad Tears’. Furthermore. There are some grinding dissonances in the first strain. it borrows material from ‘Lachrimae’. 6 (aggravated by a suspension in the Altus). harmonic instability. fasting.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) represent sighing. despair and even madness in the first two strains mainly by harmonic means.49 It is in Tone 3 with phrygian leanings. a priest himself. mortification. Dowland creates a feeling of grief. it is also concerned with tears. considered religious melancholy a species of love melancholy.

It is hard to resist the conclusion that Dowland intended this serene music to portray some sort of relief or resolution of grief and despair. 4. Burton wrote that ‘The terrible meditation of hell fire and eternall punishment much torments a sinful silly soule’. that they are almost mad’. 20 and the dotted figures in the Cantus at b.8 ‘Tristes’.The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’ Ex. 24 are a reminder of what has passed. 9–12 (lute part omitted) 10 [] [] [] rapidly traverses a cycle of fifths to reach G minor two bars later. 4. e fiumi’.8) . with such nice points. . by contrast. by what signes? And so farre forth . it is similar to the start of Marenzio’s ‘Rivi. it outlines the remarkable melodic pattern F –G –A–B –A in bb. Men possessed with amor insanus (mad love). an obvious example is the passage at the word ‘genuite’ in the ‘Dixit Dominus’ of Monteverdi’s 1610 Vespers. bb. caused respectively by the fear of damnation and rejection in love. sacred and profane. In the third strain. But what sort of grief and despair is portrayed in ‘Tristes’? Writers at the time recognised two main types. where the expected phrygian cadence is modified into a strange halting progression involving a bass suspension. 10–11 – a reference to ‘I saw my Lady weepe’ at the words ‘In those faire eies where all perfections keepe’ (see Ex. There is more disorder at the end of the strain. particularly since bb. As already mentioned. though it is also a musical commonplace. on the other 55 . though the Altus f added to the A minor cadence in b. the music is almost entirely conventional. . torture and crucifie themselves. fontane. 20–2 are taken up with a rising sequence (another anabasis or ascensio) using a figure developed from the tear motif that Dowland was to use at the beginning of the much more positive and confident ‘Amantis’. and quoted Martin Luther: ‘They doubt of their Election. how they shall know it.

5–6 of the Cantus. ‘enforced tears’ or perhaps ‘insincere tears’ or even ‘crocodile tears’. The modified ‘sighing’ version of the tear motif is transferred from the Cantus to the Altus. stupid. commit incests. The beautiful turn into C major in bb. and two fanfare-like fourths in bb. Citties. head-strong. the whole Realme should have a misse of him. steale. and in bb. If it was. depopulate Townes. the mad lover. ‘Lachrimae Coactae’ The title. adulteries. and talke as though our common welth were but a mockery of government. perhaps to darken the texture. irrationall. for it is another allusion to ‘I saw my Lady weepe’. 13–15 is a hint that the pavan is concerned with despairing love. particularly in the second and third strains. and our Majestrates fooles. and the pavan takes new harmonic directions. void of feare of God or men. are ‘no better than beasts. 1–2 of the Quintus. or by their dissatisfaction with the status quo. But much of the melodic material is new. Countries. Thomas Nashe thought it ‘a pitiful thing’ that the malcontent should take uppe a scornfull melancholy in his gate and countenance.51 The music of ‘Tristes’ suggests that it is not primarily concerned with religious despair. at the words ‘to be advanced so’. and in particular with Italian travellers or those who affected Italianate manners. who wronged him in not looking into his deserts. spend. & he would go (I mary would he) where he should be more accounted of. of course. the ‘Sacred End’ figure is alluded to in bb. if more regard were not had of him very shortly. to satisfie their lust’.53 56 . not imploying him in State matters. 19–20 of ‘Gementes’. When the Elizabethan vogue for melancholy began in the 1580s it was associated with Italy. and that.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) hand. they frequently forsweare themselves. suggests a connection with one of the most striking melancholy types: the revenger or malcontent. is a familiar figure in Jacobean drama. 5–6 of the Tenor recall the epizeusis in bb.52 Their melancholy was supposedly caused by society’s failure to appreciate their talents. we might expect it to use the ‘Sacred End’ figure even more than ‘Gementes’. hinting at D minor in the first strain and approaching G minor in the second. murders. It does refer to ‘Gementes’ in the first strain. rapes.

the cycle takes a much more positive turn. 14.54 Similarly. 10–11 of the Cantus of ‘Tristes’ is reversed. the first time this key has been reached in the first strain. swinging the music into a radiant C major. One wonders whether Dowland was thought to exemplify the melancholy malcontent. and can be thought of as a parody of it – in the musical sense as well as the general sense of ironic or satirical exaggeration. intrigue. echoing (a) in the process. It starts with the tear motif in close canon between the Cantus and the Quintus. it does so unexpectedly by way of four beats of A major harmony. appearing in bb. treachery. the A leading note replacing its enharmonic equivalent. and at one stage he was suspected by the authorities of sedition. For instance. then apparently heads towards G major but settles into a V–I E major cadence. which marches up a fifth from tonic to dominant. while the mutatio toni at the start of the second strain turns into B minor rather than G minor. just as treachery and revenge pervert grief and despair. a figure that could be thought of as a musical portrayal of intrigue or deceit. The harmonic instability is maintained almost to the end of the strain: the music swerves to avoid a D minor cadence in b. revenge and murder. It relates mainly to ‘Tristes’. When the music returns to the home key at the end of the strain.The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’ Such alienation could easily lead to deceit. the anabasis or ascensio in bb. 11–13. The tone is set by the Bassus. the strange melodic pattern G –A–B –A in bb. 6–7 as B –A–G –A. Be that as it may. he had spent much of his career abroad and had travelled to Italy. ‘Coactae’ certainly seems to illustrate the malcontent. and then up a seventh.55 ‘Lachrimae Amantis’ With ‘Amantis’. It distorts or exaggerates a number of its aspects. It is perhaps significant that the pavan generally has the most complex part-writing of the set. and there is much use of syncopation or syneresis. with an unsettling F – F change in the Altus and sinister chromatics in the Bassus. for whom B and A were the same symbol in the tablature. B – a kind of musical irony that would not have been lost on the lutenist. ‘a lover’s tears’. He repeatedly complained that his talents went unrecognised in England. though admittedly no source of the period gives it this interpretation. produced by 57 . sedition. replacing the expected phrygian cadence. 20–2 of ‘Tristes’ is modified and inverted in bb.

which stirreth them up to bee excellent Philosophers. with the exception of the expressive 6 –3 chord in b. for erotic love was thought to be a sanguine rather than a melancholy passion. &c. Two other features of the pavan contribute to its distinctive character: it conspicuously avoids phrygian progressions. But ‘Amantis’ is certainly not sorrowful. as Robert Crofts put it in 1640.56 Later writers were divided as to how the melancholy humour could produce such contradictory effects. Varying the rate of chord-change was a basic expressive device for the madrigal composer.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) a sighing A–C sixth in the Bassus and the Altus. but uses modulations only on the sharp side of the harmonic spectrum. it was warm and moist. but it was rarely used in dance music. dry and melancholic if his love was thwarted. sweet and pleasant to them. Poets. Insomuch as oft-times even their Solitarinesse and melancholly dispositions become most profitable. or have been modified to seem more joyful and confident. love melancholy involved sorrow virtually by definition. In the medical tradition deriving from Galen. that if melancholics Adict themselves to seeke and follow Vertue and Piety (especially if their Melancholly bee with bloud and other good humours moderately humected and allay’d) commonly become of excellent wisdome. produced by an excess of blood in the body. ‘neither are tears shed alwayes in sorrowe. Prophets. as Dowland put it. Thus the first three bars are modelled on the anabasis or ascensio in bb. but most agreed. while the questing second strain recalls the second strain of ‘Tristes’. but Burton repeated Aristotle’s opinion that ‘melancholy men of all others are most witty. that saw melancholy as noble. and a kind of Enthusiasmus. virtuous and even inspired. Some of the ideas come from ‘Tristes’. but they are the less anguished ones. deriving from Aristotle by way of Marsilio Ficino and other humanists. sharp Judgements and seeme to doe many things so notably as if they were furthered by some divine Instinct or motion. but sometime in joy and gladnesse’. The Anatomy of Melancholy is mostly concerned with the Galenic type. and at the end of each strain the rate of chordchange slows down markedly. The pavan could refer to an alternative tradition.’.57 58 . which causeth many times a divine ravishment. 20–2 of ‘Tristes’. The lover only became cold. We are clearly not dealing here with conventional love melancholy. flats are conspicuously avoided. 10. producing an oddly static – or even ecstatic – effect.

before studying astronomy and botany in retirement in his ‘Mossy Cell’ until ‘old experience do attain / To something like Prophetic strain’. wealth. The second strain refers again to the contrapuntal treatment of the tear motif. contemplating nature. But Babb argued that the companion poem. 12. / Sober. b. 4 it swerves unexpectedly into G minor. which includes ‘piety. In his poem ‘L’Allegro’ he rejects the Galenic type. .’. 10–11. . 11 of ‘Tristes’.The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’ Burton presumably had a similar conception of melancholy in mind when he devoted the first few sections of his treatment of love melancholy to its ‘natural’ and ‘rational’ aspects. sage and holy’. nature. friendship . benevolence. 20–2 of ‘Tristes’ by way of the opening of ‘Amantis’. with the bass marching upwards in crotchets as in the opening of ‘Amantis’. b. 6–7. deriving from bb. . ‘loathed Melancholy / Of Cerberus. poetry. . Milton personifies it as a ‘Goddes. In b. pleasure. recalling b. 10. studying philosophy. is an extended exploration of Aristotelian melancholy. seems to be concerned with a more specific aspect of noble melancholy. the ‘divinest Melancholy’ of the scholar and philosopher. while the progression in bb. 11–12 cunningly combines the 6 –3 chord in ‘Amantis’. not erotic passion. a ‘pensive Nun. honour . appreciating tragic drama. ‘Lachrimae Verae’ ‘Verae’. is echoed by the unexpected change in b. bb. in part because it tends to summarise and recapitulate the preceding pavans. Under her influence the poet is a wide-ranging seeker after truth and beauty. the love we owe our countrey. and is therefore more varied than any one of them. ‘true tears’.58 ‘Amantis’. and blackest midnight born’. including love of profit. bb. stedfast and demure’. dilection. is concerned with these types of virtuous love. religious architecture and church music. possessions. It begins with a variant of the contrapuntal treatment of the tear motif. and the B –A–G –A figure in the Cantus at the end of the strain is a direct reference to ‘Coactae’.59 There certainly seems to be a wide-ranging quality to ‘Verae’. I suggest. with the G –A–B –A figure in ‘Tristes’. and the D major–B major transition in ‘Amantis’. later celebrated by John Milton. beauty and ‘Charity’. 10 from a G major cadence to E major harmony. in favour of ‘heart-easing Mirth’.60 The end of the strain returns to a phrygian cadence 59 . devout and pure. ‘Il Penseroso’.

They demand to be performed in a sequence. 17–18. and several internal cadences are avoided. trance-like effect – a prophetic strain indeed (see Ex. non-specific sadness through religious melancholy. There is only one chord to a bar. alienation and revenge. ‘Amantis’ is the main source of the third strain: its A–C sixths in bb. Much more could be said about the seven pavans. to enlightenment and wisdom. referring back to the first three pavans.9 ‘Verae’. 60 . though each pavan makes perfect sense on its own. cumulative in its effect and greater than the sum of its parts. 17–24 (lute part omitted) 20 [] [] [] on E. though the 4–3 suspension relates it particularly to ‘Gementes’. the static effect I observed towards the end of each strain of ‘Amantis’ is taken a stage further in the last four bars of ‘Verae’. heroic and virtuous love.9). but they also seem to outline a coherent spiritual programme taking the listener from conventional. 19–20. 4. bb. while its opening is referred to yet again in bb. Furthermore. 4. 6–7 have their counterparts in the E–G sixths in the Tenor. grief and despair. though we can now see that they form a true cycle. They are linked by a subtle web of melodic and harmonic cross-references.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) Ex. producing a strange visionary. Bassus and Cantus parts of bb.

fifth. nine galliards and two almands. It is also common in Italian madrigal collections. including Dowland’s Third and Last Booke and A Pilgrimes Solace. and Almands’ The ordering of the collection We have seen that the first part of Lachrimae. eighth.1 Why is this so? An obvious possibility is that the number twenty-one has a symbolic significance. and the double Booke of Ayres published by Campion and Rosseter (1601). 1610). 1601. all five of Robert Jones’s song books (1600. as does his first book of madrigali spirituali. method can be detected in the ordering of Lachrimae on several levels. Galiards. Bartlet’s Booke of Ayres (1606). and described Lachrimae in the preface as ‘this long and troublesome worke. his third. wherein I have mixed new songs with olde. Galiards. Many vocal collections of the period have this number of pieces. 1609. To take just those by Dowland’s idol Marenzio. has a complex and subtle organisation. Campion’s Two Bookes of Ayres (?1613). But what of the second part? At first sight it seems to be a miscellaneous collection. Farnaby’s Canzonets to Fowre Voyces (1598). Nevertheless. and ninth five-part books. Greaves’s Songs of Sundrie Kindes (1604). third. and the number seven is expressed 61 . seventh. grave with light’. The most obvious is that the collection contains twenty-one dances: ten pavans. and three collections by Morley. The First Booke of Canzonets to Two Voyces (1595). his four-part book. and sixth six-part books all have twenty-one pieces. The First Booke of Balletts (1595) and Canzonets or Little Short Aers (1597). Dowland described the fourteen other dances just as ‘divers other Pavans. 1608. the seven ‘Passionate Pavans’. as well as Carleton’s Madrigals (1601). fourth. and Almands’ on the title-page. and his second.5 ‘Divers other Pavans. since it combines the numerologically significant numbers seven and three.

the pavans. English dedication. and Pilkington’s First Booke of Songs or Ayres (1605). Lachrimae is initially ordered by genre. pavan and galliard pairs are followed by almands and corants. He did not provide any galliards in the same keys as ‘Dolens’ or ‘Langton’. ‘Collier’ or ‘Piper’. a dedication. and while ‘Unton’ is in Tone 2 and therefore could be paired with the Tone 2 ‘Essex’. By the early seventeenth century collections were usually organised by key rather than genre: apart from two separate pieces.2 A quarto part-book of a madrigal set will typically consist of twenty-four pages made up of three gatherings of eight pages. Examples include Dowland’s First Booke. Similar calculations apply to Lachrimae and other table layout books in folio. 1617) consists of twenty five-movement suites. Twenty-one pieces each taking up an opening account for forty-two pages. In Holborne’s Pavans. Schein’s Banchetto musicale (Leipzig. ‘Noel’. East’s Second Set of Madrigales (1606) and his Third Set of Bookes (1610). the almands. ‘Collier’ could not be easily paired with ‘Unton’. so twentyone pieces taking a page each will leave space for preliminaries such as a title-page. the harmonies of ‘Lachrimae’ itself. and a more likely explanation is that it is a convenient number for printed collections. though an element of grouping by key was also increasingly common. Almains. which probably explains why some collections consist of twenty-two pieces. it is scored differently. it was possible to tip in an odd leaf at the beginning or the end. Latin dedication.3 Thus Lachrimae is highly unusual among contemporary consort collections in that the principle of grouping by genre takes precedence over the desire to pair pieces by key. and table of contents – though the book actually runs to fortynine pages because ‘Dolens’ is too long for a single opening. to the fastest and lightest. progressing from the slowest and most serious pieces.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) both in the cycle of seven pavans and. Dowland used only five pages for preliminaries in Lachrimae – title-page. But twenty-one does not seem to be a particularly significant number itself. The principle can be detected in many sixteenth-century collections. Dowland seems to have gone out of his way to avoid pairing pavans and galliards. while the 62 . there is no reason to connect it with any of them. preface ‘To the Reader’. for instance. with two equal soprano parts. leaving six pages for preliminaries. as we saw in Chapter 2. Indeed. Galliards. since. and a preface. if we accept Lionel Pike’s argument (see Chapter 4). Luckily.

was left out of the collection. 1–5. ‘Souch’. Galiards. or matched the dedicatee to the mood of the piece.6 Diana Poulton suggested that Dowland 63 . it is in D-Kl. and Almands’ proper pair for ‘Piper’. rather than attempts to curry favour among the great and the good. and thus more about the music Dowland dedicated to them. Taken with the fact that in at least three cases the pieces seem to be memorials to the recently deceased. and Almands’ are all dedicated to different people. like Elgar. Perhaps future research will reveal more about the more obscure figures he chose. and it is striking how many of them are relatively unknown. It can be seen most clearly in the sequence of galliards: they are ordered according to the rank of the dedicatee. Galiards. and Almands’ so that they relate in some way to the seven ‘Lachrimae’ pavans. Be that as it may. dedicated to himself. Lachrimae is unusual in that the ‘Divers other Pavans. Galiards. Warwick Edwards suggested. and to some extent acts as a pendant to the ‘Lachrimae’ pavans. if we accept that the pavan is. it looks as if the dedications are records of personal friendship or esteem.‘Divers other Pavans. 4° MS mus. a knight. This in turn raises the possibility that. A second principle can be detected in the ‘divers other Pavans. Dowland matched the mood of each piece to the character of its dedicatee. 125.4 Presumably Dowland preferred the more interesting and original relationships he had developed between ‘Antiquae’ and the other ‘Lachrimae’ pavans. dedicated to a commoner. and then six commoners. in a sense. Galiards. along the lines of the ‘friends pictured within’ Elgar’s Enigma Variations. ‘Semper Dowland semper Dolens’ ‘Dolens’ comes after ‘Verae’. though the position of ‘Dolens’ at the head of the three ‘divers other Pavans’ could be read as an assertion of the dignity of the artist over worldly rank. is followed by ones named after an earl. ‘Unton’. ‘Essex’.5 Thus a piece dedicated to a king. Nevertheless. Similarly. for it seems that some of them were only named when they appeared in Lachrimae. Dowland chose to work in several allusions to his song ‘Go christall teares’ from The First Booke. Dowland does seem to have chosen or composed some of his ‘divers other Pavans. takes precedence over ‘Langton’. which is why. ‘Denmark’. the related five-part ‘Piper’s Pavan’. and Almands’. a pavan dedicated to a knight.

Also. However.7 ‘Dolens’ seems to portray Dowland’s personal anguish in a way that the ‘Lachrimae’ pavans do not.1 ‘Dolens’. bb. Both pavans open with sighing suspended figures that refer to ‘Go christall teares’. always sorrowful’. ‘dolerem. the rhetorical 64 . the most striking feature of ‘Dolens’ is its harmonic instability. indeed. the dotted-crotchet–quaver figures I remarked on in the former are developed into a full-blown contrapuntal figure at the end of the second strain of the latter. from the Latin motto ‘Doleo. the piece seems to be much more of a self-portrait than ‘Antiquae’ or ‘Antiquae Novae’. quia non legerem quod dolerem’ (‘how sorry would I be. the connections are mostly with ‘Tristes’. 7–9 (lute part omitted) [] [] [] derived its title. It is the musical equivalent of aposiopesis. Significantly. false relations constantly cancel the effect of the leading notes of internal cadences. ever sorrowing. for that I might not read that which would make me sorry’).Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) Ex. 5. Dowland seems to have set out to make it as difficult as possible to determine its tonality. literally ‘always Dowland. and the modulatio toni outlining the G –A–B figure in the Cantus of bb. 5. concerned as they are with the various ‘characters’ of melancholy. leaving the music in the air – a device perhaps inspired by the similar cadence at the end of the second strain of ‘Gementes’. an exploration of Dowland’s own melancholy character. 2 and 3. and each strain breaks off with an unexpected inconclusive cadence. 7–8 of ‘Dolens’ (see Ex. but David Pinto has suggested to me that it ultimately derives from a phrase of St Augustine. copied in December 1602 by the barrister John Manningham from a French work on civil law. It continually twists and turns between Tones 1. 10–11 of ‘Tristes’ is echoed by bb. quia semper dolens dolere nescio’ (‘I sorrow because.1). I know not how to sorrow’).

perhaps it was altered by someone who could not stomach Dowland’s inconclusive ending.10 With strains of ten. perhaps it was conceived as such. 1596).9 I find it hard to believe that this striking effect. and the famous biographical painting. is not the original as Diana Poulton suggested. The piece is a memorial to the diplomat Sir Henry Unton or Umpton of Wadley near Faringdon in Berkshire (d. that includes depictions of a mixed consort and a five-part viol consort. with its disappointingly conventional final cadence. and such like. The Euing Lute Book and The Weld Lute Book. Almains. before it all be ended’. anger. sorrow. 23 March 1596). second wife of William Herbert. contains some of his most complex and sophisticated counterpoint. ‘The Funerals’ in Pavans. bashfulnesse. perhaps because the Lachrimae lute part has all the essential melodic material and works well as a solo. But this is just a guess: the Euing book was probably copied nearer 1610 than 1600. no. now in the National Portrait Gallery. Henrici Untoni (Oxford. Galliards. eleven and fifteen bars. first Earl of Pembroke (d.8 The reader will be aware by now that I believe ‘Dolens’ was written especially for Lachrimae. though two sources of the lute setting. and seem to be earlier. was not part of his original conception. ‘Dolens’ is by far Dowland’s longest pavan. are usually dated around 1600. entitled more precisely ‘The Countess of Pembroke’s Funeral’ in the lute setting – presumably Anne. we break of[f] our speech. and Almands’ device that Henry Peacham senior described as ‘when through some affection. ‘Sir Henry Umptons Funerall’ The two remaining pavans in Lachrimae are shorter and simpler works. and is therefore the counterpart to a collection of Latin verse. and the Weld book could easily date from a year or two after 1603–4. and its third strain. Funebria nobilissimi ad praestantissimi equitis D. and that the lute solo. with a synthetic cantus firmus in the manner of Philips’s 1580 Pavan (see Chapter 3). and therefore appear to predate Lachrimae. used so memorably at the end of the song ‘In darknesse let me dwell’ in A Musicall Banquet. Galiards. 8 August 1588). ‘Unton’ is unique to the collection: there is no separate lute setting.11 Warwick Edwards first pointed out that ‘Unton’ has virtually the same harmonic plan as a pavan by Holborne. 31. as of feare.12 Thus 65 .‘Divers other Pavans.

14 The pavan exists in three versions. the Lachrimae consort setting. ‘Langton’ contradicts it: the Lincolnshire landowner John Langton (1561–1616) of Langton near Horncastle was very much alive in 1604. 14. 66 . and relief from annoying cares’. and the piece is Dowland’s least sorrowful pavan. in a sunny Tone 6. replace b-natural with b-flat – effectively creating F major. and in it Dowland took the opportunity to correct the strange rhythmic displacement in the second half of the second strain which shifts the internal cadences on to the second and fourth beats of the bar. Two of them are related to ideas in ‘Antiquae’: bb.15 The first two are fairly similar. with the third strain extended to ten bars. while Dowland’s is much more elaborate. good Lord. 13–14 uses the contrapuntal version of the tear motif derived from the opening of Marenzio’s ‘Rivi. creating an eight-bar rather than a seven-bar strain. He inserted an extra minim into b. where the dominant harmony arrives a beat early and has to be artificially prolonged.13 Zarlino wrote that its ancestor. and a later lute setting in Varietie of Lute-Lessons entitled ‘Sir John Langton his Pavin’ – Langton was knighted in 1603. ‘brings to the spirit modesty. with its appropriate associations with the words ‘Mercie. and that the moderns.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) Dowland seems to have borrowed from Holborne rather than the other way round. an early untitled lute pavan. and while ‘Unton’ seems to confirm the theory. happiness. mercie’. e fiumi’. 13. 6–7 is another version of the ‘Sacred End’ figure. Holborne’s pavan is relatively simple. fontane. ‘M. John Langtons Pavan’ It has often been suggested that pavans named after individuals were written as memorial pieces. and it presumably has the same meaning here. but ‘Sir John Langton his Pavin’ has more elaborate divisions. and several sections of complex imitative counterpoint. ‘induced by the sweetness and beauty’ of the ionian eleventh mode. with three eight-bar strains and rather loosely organised counterpoint mainly in plain patterns of rising and falling crotchets. while bb. 10 and three minims into b. the lydian fifth mode. I believe that Dowland intended this idea to represent consolation and relief from sorrow in ‘Tristes’. thus avoiding the awkward effect in b. and this is borne out by the music.

and the opening of the third strain. which implies that the song version was circulating by then. 1594).17 For some reason the first bar of the second strain is virtually the same as the equivalent bar in the lute pavan ‘La mia Barbara’. and it is borne out by the simple. ‘Langton’ is a sweetly satisfying work. which may be a subtle reference to 67 . and there are nine in Lachrimae. which contains a beautiful harmonic turn similar to bb. a sure sign that the dance came first. ‘Can she excuse my wrongs’ in The First Booke.‘Divers other Pavans. the Dowland Lutebook in Washington (c. 13–14 of ‘Awake sweete love’ in The First Booke. and four also exist as songs.16 though Holborne also used the idea several times: Pavan no. for the Altus quotes the popular song ‘Will you go walk the woods so wild’ in the third strain.20 Furthermore. Almains begins in virtually the same way as ‘Langton’. So far as we know. a study in galliard cross-rhythms. the vigorous and forthright music. with a number of felicitous touches. Galiards. the unexpected C minor chord on the fourth beat of b.18 ‘The Earle of Essex Galiard’ Dowland was evidently particularly fond of the galliard as a genre. is rather at odds with the mood of the text. But he may have had him in mind from the beginning. Galliards. Among them are some of his most popular pieces: all but two are known in earlier instrumental versions. Holborne-like style and the limited harmonic plan. We know of more than thirty examples by him. Dowland first used the title ‘The Earle of Essex Galiard’ in Lachrimae. 4 (not present in the lute settings). supposedly Essex’s complaint against Queen Elizabeth. 3–4. though it is an apt portrait of the dashing and impulsive earl. 3 of Pavans. perhaps to commemorate Essex’s execution in 1601. such as the tiny rising imitative point in bb. I–I / V–V / I–I. The earliest datable source. and Almands’ This suggests that ‘Langton’ is a fairly early work. and produces unnatural word stresses when sung. Paul O’Dette has remarked on Dowland’s fondness for beginning pieces with melodies that descend a fifth by step.19 But Edward Doughtie pointed out that the poem. Nevertheless. has no proper metrical structure. It is not clear whether ‘Essex’ was written before its song version. includes a lute setting signed by the composer with the title ‘Can she excuse’.

11. MS Dd. 4. for Dowland. ‘Noel’ also exists as a lute solo and a song as well as the Lachrimae consort setting. This suggests it was originally written as an instrumental galliard rather than a song.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) Essex’s fondness for his country house at Wanstead in Epping Forest. They are both in Tone 2 with phrygian leanings. John Ward pointed out that the tune was often quoted in contrapuntal compositions. and they start with arching phrases that rise in arpeggios and then fall by step to a dominant chord on the first beat of b. and Dowland had to fudge the imitative entry in b. and the potentially lively figure in the third strain is made more subdued by the absence of the bass in the first four bars. though there are signs that at least the lower vocal parts of the part-song version were added later: their underlay is often awkward. like ‘Flow my teares’. The evidence of the sources is not conclusive: Dowland may have composed the solo lute version by the time Piper died in 1590. this may just be because the song version. f. entitled ‘Mignarde’ or ‘Mignarda’. 2 of the tenor part. ‘Shall I strive with wordes to move’. Yet if ‘Piper’ is a portrait of the notorious Captain Digorie Piper (1559–90) of The Sweepstake who narrowly escaped punishment for piracy in 1586. and some of the accentuation of the words is. f. since Matthew Holmes copied it into GB-Cu. was written first.2. only appeared in A Pilgrimes Solace of 1612. while the song. and this is borne out by the fact that.21 ‘Captaine Digorie Piper his Galiard’ ‘Piper’ is strikingly similar to ‘Essex’. is in GB-Cu. 77. 53 in the early 1590s. they both consist of three eight-bar strains. ‘Shall I strive with wordes to move’ has no metrical regularity.24 which means it was in circulation in the early 1590s. Henry Noel his Galiard’ Like ‘Essex’ and ‘Piper’.22 The piece demands a slower tempo.2. surprisingly clumsy.23 ‘M. there is a noticeable absence of jaunty cross-rhythms. 68 .11. The text makes good sense as a poem and fits the tune well. ‘If my complaints could passions move’. MS Dd. and was occasionally confused with it at the time. while the song is in The First Booke of 1597. he was a more sombre character than the Earl of Essex. Of course. The lute solo.25 The title ‘Mignarde’.

the dedication to Sir John Souch or Zouch of Codnor Castle in Derbyshire is only found in Lachrimae. among others. and the melody includes the tetrachord C–B–A–G a number of times. Giles Hobies his Galiard’ In fact.3. The poem is in regular iambic pentameters. is apt for a graceful piece similar in mood to ‘Piper’. which is more decorated than the song in the second and third strains. 5. ‘moone’ and ‘the heavens’ are set to high notes – and Anthony Munday wrote verses published in 1584 to fit the vocal form of the melody. George earl of Cumberland and Walter Ralegh. and there are a number 69 . probably started life as the song ‘My thoughts are wingd with hopes’ in The First Booke.27 ‘Sir John Souch his Galiard’ ‘Souch’. and Almands’ a French-derived word meaning ‘delicate’. ‘delicately’.78. including Daniel Bacheler’s song ‘To plead my faith’. John Ward has also pointed out that it belongs to a family of English galliards that begin in a similar way. Arbeau used the word ‘mignardez’.26 Dowland probably changed its title in Lachrimae to commemorate his friend and patron. Dd. dating from the 1590s. It is in Tone 3.‘Divers other Pavans. who died in February 1597. ‘pretty’ or ‘mincing’. Diana Poulton pointed out that the melody seems to be a response to the first verse – the words ‘mount’. and was clearly not written to fit the music. Dowland’s ‘Queen Elizabeth’s Galliard’. Galiards.29 The galliard is of interest for its connections with ‘Antiquae’. the courtier Henry Noel. since it circulated independently of the song and has been attributed to John Lyly. ‘prettily’ or ‘mincingly’ to describe an especially graceful way of executing the five steps of the galliard. it has essentially the same harmonic pattern as the pavan. ‘Hoby’ is virtually a parody of James Harding’s galliard: the two pieces have similar harmonic patterns.30 ‘M. 3–4. with phrygian cadences in bb. by contrast.28 The earliest source of the instrumental version of the melody. seems to be an untitled lute solo in GB-Cu. and a popular galliard by the court wind player James Harding. as well as ‘Hoby’ in Lachrimae. 15–16 and 19–20 and a prominent turn into C major at the beginning of the second strain.

and nothing about why Dowland dedicated this splendidly vigorous piece to him. 5. ‘Lachrimae’ did not have its own galliard until the lute ‘Galliard to Lachrimae’ appeared in A Pilgrimes Solace in 1612. 12–16 20 [ 3] [ 3] [ 3] Ex. bb. bb.2b ‘Hoby’. 5. Galliard. 5. which Dowland placed at the end of his third strain (see Ex. and the syncopated rising pattern at the end of Harding’s second strain. Harding. though little is known about Giles Hoby (1565–1626) of the Herefordshire landed family. The two pieces are found together a number of times. such as the passage of cross-rhythms at the beginning of the second strain. 20–4 (lute part omitted) 20 [ 3] [ 3] [ 3] of significant melodic details in common.2a J.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) Ex. including Byrd’s keyboard setting and the five-part one copied by William Wigthorpe. Perhaps Dowland was just returning the compliment. while ‘Can she excuse’ / ‘Essex’ was also sometimes pressed into service in the same way.31 Dowland probably gave ‘Hoby’ its title only when he published it in Lachrimae (an earlier lute setting is untitled).32 70 .2). for James Harding may have written his galliard to be paired with ‘Lachrimae’.

34 ‘Bucton’ is the closest of the four galliards to the chanson. The four pieces were boiled down surprisingly literally from the original. while it begins with elaborate counterpoint.3). and Almands’ ‘M. and may therefore be the latest.‘Divers other Pavans. perhaps derived from an otherwise lost lute piece. their openings are homophonic. ‘The Right Honourable the Lord Viscount Lisle.35 ‘The King of Denmarks Galiard’ ‘Denmark’ is also a compilation. embodying Dowland’s favourite melodic descent from fifth to tonic. Galiards. For instance. 1–6 and 13–14. five-part pavans based rather more loosely on ‘Susane un jour’ by Alfonso Ferrabosco I and Joseph Lupo. of which the first two (A. 5. drawn from the repertory of Renaissance battle music. while the third strain comes from the chanson’s final phrase. and the Cantus of the other five-part setting is also decorated with lutelike figuration. two equivalent pieces. B) are closely related. the second strain from bb. while the 71 . virtually every note of ‘Bucton’ derives from Lassus. The first strain comes from bb. 28–9. though it was published earlier than two of them. the five-part ‘Galliard / Jhon Douland’ in the 1607 Füllsack and Hildebrandt anthology. may have been written as early as the 1570s. 31–4 and 46–9. It is also much more subtle than the others. b. and the later lute piece dedicated to Sir Robert Sidney. and was outmoded by 1604. creating a delightful type of rhythmic counterpoint (see Ex. John Ward suggested that the dedicatee of this small masterpiece was a courier who worked with Dowland for Sir Henry Cobham in Paris. Buctons Galiard’ ‘Bucton’ is also a reworking of music by another composer. 53 to the end. indeed.33 The others are the early anonymous lute piece ‘Suzanna Galliard’. first published in London in 1570. His Galliard’ in Varietie of Lute-Lessons. This technique of deriving dances from French chansons went back to the early sixteenth century. It consists of three four-bar phrases with written-out varied repeats. and the beginning of its third strain is greatly enhanced by allowing the tune to get out of step with the lower parts. since Lassus’s tune tends to be obscured by decorations in the lute settings. It is one of four galliards associated with Dowland that are derived from Lassus’s famous chanson ‘Susane un jour’.

while A and B also relate to passages in an anonymous lute battle piece. 17–21 (lute part omitted) 20 [ 3] [ 3] [ 3] third (C) begins with an ascending dotted phrase. as in the first act of Hamlet: ‘And as he dreines his draughts of Rhenish downe. the ‘March of Horsemen’ section of William Byrd’s ‘The Battle’ and ‘A Battle and no Battle’ attributed to John Bull. for the Danish king’s toasts were habitually accompanied by trumpets and drums.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) Ex. F major and D minor – and this striking device evidently impressed Charles Butler. with the ground allocated to a second player. Dowland’s ‘Round Battle Galliard’ is not related.39 Dowland presumably intended his battle piece as a compliment to Christian IV’s military prowess.40 Perhaps Dowland also intended the key changes to represent drunkenness. I–V–I or I–IV–V–I. bb. 5. All three relate to passages in two English keyboard battle pieces. But ‘Denmark’ is different from the other pieces in that each phrase is in a different key – D major. though the king was to be notably unsuccessful as a commander in the Thirty Years War. Langton’s Galliard’.36 Dowland also used A and C as the second and third strains of ‘Mr. found in the Dallis lute manuscript of 1583 and several later sources. who mentioned ‘the Battel-galliard’ as an example of how different modes could be ‘compounded’ or mixed together in a single piece.38 The late lute setting in Varietie of Lute-Lessons preserves the three-key structure of ‘Denmark’ but adds three beautifully conceived and imaginative variations. / The kettle Drum and Trumpet thus bray out / The triumph of his Pledge’. 72 .37 In essence. and they appear in ‘A Battle and no Battle’ as part of a set of divisions on a ground. while another galliard attributed to him begins with A in the minor rather than the major. the three phrases are decorations of the same harmony. Its warlike character could also be a sly reference to Christian’s reputation as a hard drinker.3 ‘Bucton’.

Nothing is known of Thomas Collier. Though it shares Tone 3 with the seven ‘Lachrimae’ pavans. The former is 73 . Nicholas Gryffith his Galiard’ ‘Gryffith’ is virtually the only galliard in the repertory with the sort of elaborate imitative counterpoint we associate with pavans. Thomas Collier his Galiard with 2 Trebles’ The two galliards still to be discussed. ‘Nichol’ and ‘Whitehead’. which inevitably slows down the tempo. there are internal D minor cadences in the first and third strains. and may have been written specially for Lachrimae. It is hard to believe that Dowland wrote his most complex and sophisticated galliard much before Lachrimae was published.‘Divers other Pavans. it shows the strong influence of Tone 1: it starts with an A major rather than an A minor chord. and perhaps derived from. ‘M. They are both in Tone 5. with three eight-bar strains. and partly by speeding up the harmonic rhythm. sometimes incorporating the contrapuntal version of the tear motif used in ‘Tristes’. according to Charles Butler. Yet the musical potential of this device is only really exploited in the third strain. and could easily have been taken for an early piece had Dowland not used the new-fangled two-soprano scoring. ‘strange and informal to the Air’ and ‘sparingly to be used’.P. Dowland gave himself the space to achieve this partly by extending the second and third strains to twelve bars. Galiards. It is largely taken up with patterns of rising and falling crotchets. While they lean towards the phrygian Tone 4.41 ‘Mistresse Nichols Almand’ Lachrimae ends with the two almands. do not survive in any other source. for Carnarvon. though we can only guess why he dedicated it to the obscure Nicholas Gryffith or Griffith. ‘Gryffith’ and ‘Collier’. ‘Amantis’ and ‘Verae’. eventually cadencing in the distant key of F major – one of the ‘Improper Cadences’. when the soprano instruments engage in a proper dialogue using material similar to. M. it is interesting and perhaps significant that its tonality is as different from them as it is possible to be. ‘Collier’ is much the simpler of the two. and Almands’ ‘M. but are quite different from each other. and the second strain is largely in D minor. the third strain of ‘Piper’.

with a series of suspensions in the last four bars. has some of its features. including the suspensions in the last four bars. but chants of this sort only developed after the Restoration. the only one dedicated to the otherwise unknown Mistress Nichol or Nichols. and the manuscript dates from around 1700.44 74 . or there may have been an intermediate version. we do not know why Dowland dedicated it to George Whitehead. again. D minor. 1603). published before Lachrimae appeared. It may have existed before 1604. a wide-ranging tonal scheme with modulations to G major.42 ‘M. with strains of eight and sixteen bars.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) a breezy little two-strain piece of just twelve four-crotchet bars. is more complex than the simple lute setting. A minor and F major. George Whitehead his Almand’ ‘Whitehead’ is much more extended and sophisticated. and a remarkable question-andanswer passage in the second strain that sounds like battle music. The Lachrimae version. an obscure tenant of the Duke of Northumberland.43 ‘Whitehead’ is not known elsewhere. Diana Poulton suggests it was influenced by a four-part chant of the Athanasian Creed in an Oxford manuscript. for the five-part setting in Valentin Haussmann’s Rest von Polnischen und andern Täntzen (Nuremberg. now lost. and was probably written specially for the volume.

using the new ‘string quartet’ scoring of two sopranos. Thomas Simpson included settings of ‘Antiquae Novae’ and ‘Langton’ in his Opusculum neuwer Pavanen. brought to its highest point by Dowland. tenor and bass with a continuo part rather than Dowland’s five-part scoring with a single soprano. pairing them with his own related galliards. Dowland’s music survived for rather longer in the AngloGerman consort repertory. He was one of the greatest English composers of his time. scored for lighter and smaller combinations of violins and viols with theorboes. The brilliant and elaborate type of lute music he cultivated gave way about the same time to slighter and less demanding idioms from France using the new Baroque tunings.1 Other Dowland pieces in German consort collections include the pavan ‘La mia Barbara’ in Simpson’s Opusculum. none of the Lachrimae pieces exists in later English sources. wrongly entitling it ‘Pypers Galliard’. However. corant and saraband. Although some Jacobean consort music continued to be copied until after the Restoration.6 Reception John Dowland was a prophet largely without honour in his own land. as 75 . Konrad Hagius printed his own setting of ‘Essex’ in his partly lost Newe künstliche musicalische Intraden (Nuremberg. was quickly replaced by new forms and styles. yet his music was quickly forgotten by his compatriots. 1621). The pavan and the galliard gave way to new and lighter dances such the almand. yet he had to wait until he was nearly fifty before he received a post at the English court. He was one of the most famous lutenists in Europe. The lute song was superseded in the 1620s by new types of continuo song. 1616). and arrangements in Taffel-Consort of the songs ‘Were every thought an eye’ and ‘Lady if you so spite me’. two settings of ‘Piper’ printed by Hagius. And the great idiom of Elizabethan consort dance music. and Simpson included a version of ‘Nichol’ in Taffel-Consort (Hamburg.

may date from 1670 or later. it also includes keyboard variations on ‘Denmark’ by Samuel Scheidt. a third Sweelinck pupil. nos. an incomplete five-part pavan by Tomkins. a five-part pavan and galliard in Simpson’s 1610 collection. the pavan from the Suite no. 23 ‘Spero’. a keyboard pavan and galliard by Morley beginning with the complete tear motif. but alludes to the harmony of ‘Lachrimae’ in several places. and the pavan for four crumhorns in the same collection. while the only source of the Sweelinck ‘Pavana Lachrymae’. 49 ‘Ploravit’ and 51 ‘Posthuma’. and it is also found in five-part pavans by Thomas Weelkes and George Kirbye. 7. printed in 1621.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) well as a pavan and a volta ascribed to Dowland but not known elsewhere. Almains. 27 ‘The Image of Melancholy’. The practice of writing pavans beginning with the tear motif began quite early. Giles Farnaby. now in Budapest. Holborne used it to begin six pavans in Pavans.6 Pieces of this sort for solo instruments include the Landgrave of Hesse’s eloquent lute pavan dedicated to Dowland and printed in Varietie of Lute-Lessons. and 76 . a five-part pavan and galliard by Brade in Füllsack and Hildebrandt’s 1607 anthology. 21 ‘Infernum’. yet another Sweelinck pupil.5 Dowland’s memory was also preserved for several decades after his death by pieces that allude in various ways to ‘Lachrimae’. another pupil. William Randall and Benjamin Cosyn. Galliards. probably because the Thirty Years War had begun to limit the access of English touring theatre companies to Germany.2 The Anglo-German consort style petered out in the 1620s. also takes ‘Denmark’ as its starting point. but a few pieces by Dowland survived longer in the keyboard repertory. and the piece probably entered the German repertory partly by way of Sweelinck’s ‘Pavana Lachrymae’: his pupil Melchior Schildt wrote a setting. a six-part pavan in Brade’s 1614 collection. 6 in Schein’s Banchetto musicale.3 A fragment of the Schildt setting is in a Swedish manuscript started in 1641 that also includes a setting of ‘La mia Barbara’ pavan by Paul Siefert. We have English settings of ‘Lachrimae’ by William Byrd. another keyboard pavan by Orlando Gibbons does not use the falling fourth.4 Scheidt’s famous five-part ‘Galliard Battaglia’. among others. and Orlando Gibbons’s ‘Lord Salisbury’ pavan and galliard. and an anonymous one has been attributed to Heinrich Scheidemann.

7 in D minor for two violins. rewritten by him in C minor for five viols and organ. Its popularity also ensured it a place in instrumental anthologies such as Nicolas Vallet’s Apollinis süsse Leyr (Amsterdam. probably a pupil of William Brade. repr. and in the 1652 edition set for two voices with variations by Joseph Butler for violin and bass viol. and a four-part D-minor pavan by the Hamburg violinist Johann Schop (c. Robert de Visée and Charles Mouton.7 Many later pieces also use the tear motif. They include a four-part pavan in D minor by William Lawes. 1649). the opening of Lawes’s Fantasia Suite no. 1626. 1642) and Jacob van Eyck’s Euterpe (Amsterdam. and then quotes the opening of ‘Langton’ at the beginning of the third.11 Valerius printed a setting of ‘Lachrimae’ for two voices with lute and cittern. and ‘Come againe. as well as Germans working in the same tradition such as Esias Reusner and Silvius Leopold Weiss. while it appeared in the 1647 edition of Stichtelycke rymen set for four voices.9 The falling tetrachords of ‘Lachrimae’ are also echoed in a group of late seventeenth-century French lute allemandes or allemande-like tombeaux by Jacques Gallot.Reception uses the idea that begins Dowland’s third strain at the beginning of the second strain. 77 .10 Dowland’s music lingered longest in The Netherlands: the tunes of four of his pieces – ‘Lachrimae’. reprinted in Der fluyten lust-hof I (Amsterdam. though it is hard to know whether their composers were responding directly to ‘Lachrimae’ or just generally to a tradition of sorrowful pavans derived from it. ‘Now. 1590–1667). probably from travelling English theatre troupes. the former is a setting for violin and bass (the violin part is lost). sweet love doth now envite’ – passed into the Dutch repertory of popular songs. Schop’s music preserved elements of the AngloGerman style long after most of his contemporaries had moved on to other things: his divisions on ‘Lachrimae’ for violin and bass was published in’t Uitnement Kabinet I (Amsterdam. O now I needs must part’ or the ‘Frog Galliard’. and the first three were printed in successive editions of Stichtelycke rymen by Dirk Rafaelszoon Camphuysen. a four-part pavan in D minor by John Jenkins. bass viol and organ.8 The last alludes to ‘Lachrimae’ at the beginning of the first two strains. the country dance version of ‘Essex’ or ‘Can she excuse’ (see below). 1644). 1646). 1974). All four appear in Adriaen Valerius’s Neder-landtsche gedenck-clanck (Haarlem.

1782 and 1789. 21. 1972). Another reason why Dowland’s music was neglected so long was that much of it 78 . and was also called for in several ballad operas. no. 1767). Hawkins confined himself to an outline of Dowland’s life.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) the latter four variations for solo recorder. ‘Excuse me’ is the only tune deriving from Dowland that also survived in the English popular repertory: it appeared in The Dancing Master from the seventh edition (1686) to the eighteenth (c. 1716. 1728). and although Burney attempted to assess the music. c. and the great reputation he acquired with his co[n]temporaries’. repr. ‘Essex’ or ‘Can she excuse’ also survived into the eighteenth century. but in a country dance version known as ‘Excuse me’. Van Eyck published two settings as ‘Excusemoy’ in Der Fluyten Lust-hof II (Amsterdam. and some of the part-song versions remained unpublished until 1953.12 Revival The 1760s saw the beginnings of the revival of Elizabethan music. and was but little used to writing in many parts’. and suggested he ‘had not studied composition regularly at an early period of his life. and it appeared in Dutch sources as late as Oude en nieuwe Hollantse boren lietjes en contredansen (Amsterdam. The tune is found in Dutch song books up to 1743. published respectively in 1776 and 1776. but most of the lute music had to wait until the publication of CLM in 1974.13 With attitudes of this sort. including Gay’s Polly (1729) and Andrew Barton’s The Disappointment. 1700–c. and Sir John Hawkins and Charles Burney were actively collecting material during the decade for their rival histories of music. or The Force of Credulity (New York. The First Booke was edited by William Chappell for The Musical Antiquarian Society in 1844. though complete editions of the voice and lute versions of the songs only appeared in 1922–4. it is not surprising that the revival of Dowland’s music essentially had to wait until the twentieth century. 1646). first printed in Thomas Robinson’s New Citharen Lessons (1609). The instrumental music had to wait even longer: Lachrimae first appeared in 1927. he was notably unsympathetic: he claimed to have been ‘equally disappointed and astonished’ at Dowland’s ‘scanty abilities in counterpoint. The first volume of Boyce’s Cathedral Music appeared in 1760.

They were both outsiders denied advancement by the English establishment. The Elizabethan Players (1957) recorded the seven ‘Lachrimae’ pavans and ten of the other pieces on viols. but with the treble viols played under the chin. though the first complete recording only appeared in 1957–8. Some of the pioneer groups such as the London Consort of Viols and the English Consort of Viols may have performed pieces from Lachrimae in the 1930s and 40s. whose gifts were recognised earlier on the Continent than at home. 1957–8). Dowland’s music is more popular than at any time in the 400 years since it was written. uses a modern string orchestra with lute and harpsichord. They were complex and somewhat contradictory personalities.15 Six of the seven subsequent complete recordings. though comparisons between them reveal much about changing attitudes to the disposition of instruments. as discussed in Chapter 2. or that the part could be played on a harpsichord or even a piano. the Dowland Consort (1985). In many ways. born almost 300 years later. Hesperion XX (1987). Peter Warlock still assumed modern strings rather than viols in his edition of Lachrimae and suggested the independent material in the lute part could be cued into the string parts. tuning. Dowland’s position in our musical culture invites comparison with that occupied by Elgar. and transposes the low-pitched pieces up a fourth. the Consort of Musicke (1979). and whose inspiration seems to have deserted them 79 . styles of bowing. Fretwork (1989–90) and the Rose Consort (1992. whose acute sense of melancholy and failure prevented them from enjoying fame and fortune. and a virginals instead of a lute playing only the flourishes at the end of the strains. The recording by The Parley of Instruments (1992) uses a Renaissance violin consort with a lute. stringing. 1997).Reception requires the lute and the viol. use the same scoring. instruments that were largely out of use between the early eighteenth century and the late nineteenth century. indeed. by the Philomusica of London directed by Thurston Dart (c. by the Schola Cantorum Basiliensis (1962).14 The first complete recording. Lachrimae is probably the most recorded and performed collection of instrumental music before the Water Music or the Brandenburg Concertos. a viol consort with lute.16 Today. articulation and ornamentation. vibrato. to judge from a photograph in the accompanying leaflet.

made the more intense for being expressed in conventional musical forms and idioms. In an age of instant fame. 80 . Dowland’s music certainly expresses as powerfully as Elgar’s a sense of melancholy and regret.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) just as they finally achieved the recognition of their compatriots. relentless fashion and mindless experiment their music speaks to us with a peculiar eloquence.

Krummel’s account is confused at this point: in fig. DM. ff. Music for Elizabethan Lutes (Oxford. Rooley. 117.Notes 1 The document 1 The following account is based on R. I. ed. 1992). 10 Krummel. manuscript formerly in the possession of Robert Spencer. Sparr. 13 US-Ws. 83v. 7 JD. A Transcript. 9 Arber. A Transcript of the Registers of the Company of Stationers of London 1554–1640. 1965). III. idem. 44–75. see J. 139–63. there are facsimiles in A. 94. 228. 1962). JLSA 9 (1976). I. 5 For Dowland’s continental career. W. 39A he wrongly associates the rhythm shapes used in Lachrimae with Short rather than Barley. 30–52. 12v. Arber. 11 Ibid. 26–7. see also D. see JD. 258. 52. Krummel. III. 6 K. M. ‘John Dowland and English Lute Music’. now in GB-Lam. 1903. The Board Lute Book. 1975). 88. English Music Printing.b. 60–1. 1876). 274–5. Pinto. Arber. The Lute 27 (1987).. 35–7. The Elizabethan Madrigal: A Comparative Study (New York. Steele. 110. ‘Dowland’s Tears: Aspects of Lachrimae’. 258–67. 47–50. III (London. The Earliest English Music Printing. ‘Some Unobserved Information about John Dowland. 4 Steele. JAMS 37 (1984). 12 Ibid. 3 E. 1976). V. 81 . 4–29.. ‘“Ruled Paper Imprinted”: Music Paper and Patents in Sixteenth-Century England’. Milsom. 107. 99–105. repr. 2 Steele. 27–8. English Music Printing 1553–1700 (London. ‘The So-Called “Dowland Lute Book” in the Folger Shakespeare Library’. Ward. EM 3 (1975). A Transcript. 16–19. D. Thomas Campion and Philip Rosseter’. 280. Fenlon and J. The Earliest English Music Printing. J. Kerman. Spencer (Leeds. 8 JD. The Lute 37 (1997). The Earliest English Music Printing (London. R.

Edwards. 1954). XVII. Fellowes. La musique instrumentale de la Renaissance. 1969). ‘The Emergence of the In Nomine: Some Notes and Queries on the Work of Tudor Church Musicians’. ‘A John Playford Advertisement’. Ph.Notes to pages 6–9 14 The First Set of Songs in Four Parts. The Elizabethan Madrigal. Canzonette a tre voci. 20 S. 21 A. 1978). reproduced in L. Records of the Court of the Stationers’ Company. 4th series. 16 Edwards. PRMA 97 (1970–71). Kanazawa. 1993). 365–80. 15–23. Coral. 17 W. Complete Works 2 (Cambridge. 1602–40 (London. The Elizabethan Madrigal. A. Hyatt King (Buren. 1959). 19. 1984). Holborne. Catalogue of the Music Library of Edward Francis Rimbault. see Kerman. Canzonets to Five and Sixe Voices 1597. 715. thesis (University of Cambridge (1974). 25 I am grateful to Alison Crum and Richard Rastall for advice on this point. I. RMARC 5 (1965). Chelys 16 (1987). does not include the lute part. ‘Rosseter’s Lessons for Consort of 1609’. 1975). Krummel. A Catalogue of all the Musick-Bookes that have been Printed in England. Harwood. 24 I am grateful to Ian Harwood for this information. The English Madrigalists 3 (London. 1973). Edwards’s suggestion that the manuscript is in the hand of Clement Woodcock is rejected in R. ed. Olleson (Stocksfield. 26 W. ed. rev. 262–3. see J. see also P. 91–114. Music for Cittern. Morley. The Earliest Music Printing. J. Doe. 15 M. Jacques Moderne: Lyons Music Printer of the Sixteenth Century (Geneva. ed. Dunkley. Noble. ‘The Sources of Elizabethan Consort Music’. W. the date has been removed from the Performers’ Facsimile edition of the British Library copy. Ford. 36–43. Colussi. Playford. Dowling. M. 82 . 2. 18 The modern edition. Composed by John Dowland. Modern Musical Scholarship. F. ‘The Performance of Ensemble Music in Elizabethan England’. see JD. 23 ‘Morley’s Consort’ and ‘Rosseters Consort’ are listed among the ‘Musick Bookes in folio’ in J. ed. 113–23. The First Book of Consort Lessons. 12 (1932). 246–7. either for Voyce or Instruments (London. W. 165–9. ‘The Printing of John Dowland’s Second Booke of Ayres’. 2/1977). Orologio. 19 There is a facsimile in Grove 6. 74–9. S. 1957). Jacquot (Paris. The Early History of the Viol (Cambridge. S. Kerman. ‘Clement Woodcock’s Appointment at Canterbury Cathedral’. LSJ 7 (1965). I..D. ed. E. ed. Pogue. ed. I. 39–40. Edwards. Mass. ed. [1653]). ‘Le répertoire instrumental anglais: 1550–1585’. 7. Chappell (London. 1–12. F. 1844). A. Jackson. see T. 106. The Library. Opera omnia 1 (Udine. 79–92. Beck (New York. 1. especially the facsimile on p. 22 A. E. Woodfield. 90–7.

Thomas (London. see Edwards. 1590–1660 (Cambridge. Mies. JD. Limon. contains a survey of the mixed consort and its sources. O. E. Thomas (London.. 1982). The entry ‘Dowlands fift Booke’ among the ‘Musick Bookes in folio’ in Playford. 127. idem. H. see ‘Purcell’s In Nomines: A Tale of Two Manuscripts (perhaps Three)’. 1617). 10 W. 1. 5 Fiddlers. The Shakespearean Stage 1574–1642 (Cambridge.. Opus newer Paduanen (Hamburg. Styles. idem. diss. Thomas (London. Brade. EM 25 (1997). Music in the German Renaissance: Sources. 8 A. Pavans.Notes to pages 9–17 216–19. ch. Rastall. I. R. 1609). ed. 86. German Instrumental Music of the Late Middle Ages (Cambridge. 1987). 4 Edwards. MS 31390 was added several decades after most of the contents. 128–9. ‘The Influence and Activities of English Musicians on the Continent during the Late Sixteenth and Early Seventeenth Centuries’. A. Fiddlers. 83 27 28 29 30 . 2 The instruments 1 Recent studies of this subject are Woodfield. ed. 6 Ibid. B. T. 132–9. see also Fiddlers. 1992). and Contexts. Butler. Newe außerlesene Paduanen und Galliarden (Hamburg. ed. 1636). The Early History of the Viol. Almains 1599. one of these copies was subsequently owned by Robert Spencer. 9 P. MD 3 (1949). Thomas (London. ‘Spatial Effects in English Instrumental Consort Music. idem. 103–4. 1980).. J. 7 C. 1610). Mueller. A Catalogue. 1997). 1. 1994). 2 Fiddlers. Taffel-Consort (Hamburg. 171–2. K. Galliards. ed. 269–88. Polk. 1621). and is therefore of questionable value as evidence of performance practice. 1992). 50. ed. Holborne. Polk. 2. Kmetz (Cambridge. ‘Innovation in Instrumental Music 1450–1520: The Role of German Performers within European Culture’. 9. Galliarden (Hamburg. B. c1560–1605’. Newe außerlesene Paduanen. ‘The Sources’. 58–87. H. Mönkemeyer (Celle. is probably a reference to Lachrimae. 4–6. ‘Elizabethan Music Prints in an East-Prussian Castle’. 123–7. 1970). 1988). Ph. The Principles of Musik in Singing and Setting (London. Simpson. 3 Ibid. Gurr. Gentlemen of a Company: English Players in Central and Eastern Europe. Chelys 25 (1996/7). 1985). David Pinto has recently pointed out that the title of Add.D. 202–14. 1614). 19. J. ed. Thomas (London. 94. Opusculum neuwer Pavanen (Frankfurt. ed. Indiana University (1954).

1957). ‘The Recorder in Italian Music. eds. Festschrift Otto Erich Deutsch (Kassel. Mönkemeyer (Celle. Gerstenberg. ‘The Teaching of Bowed Instruments’. ‘A Critical Edition and Historical Commentary of Kassel 4° MS Mus. 157–63. W. Die mehrstimmige Spielmusik des 17. 12 M. diss. Barbieri. R. Brade. 1600–1700’. idem. ‘The Tenor Violin: Myth. 18 H.. 199–201. Lustgarten neuer teutscher Gesäng (1601). The Recorder in the Seventeenth Century: Proceedings of the International Recorder Symposium. 244. diss. 39. 1982). see Fiddlers. 252–3. Van Heyghen. E. 125’. Newe Außerlesene liebliche Branden (Hamburg and Lübeck. 393. L. Meyer. 1986). La Rue and W. 22 For chiavette and the transposition of instrumental music. Harmonie universelle: The Books on Instruments. 52. ed. B. Rehm. ‘Monteverdi’s Violini Piccoli alla Francese and Viole da Brazzo’. Opera omnia 7 (Udine. see idem. Ph. ed. 42–3. J. Monson. 1607). 17 Mersenne. ‘Chiavette and Modal Transposition in Italian Practice (c. trans. Thomas (London. London (1983). see also Fiddlers.Notes to pages 17–20 11 Außerlesener Paduanen und Galliarden Erster Theil (Hamburg. 19 A. Utrecht 1993. Praetorius. Hassler. 84 . B. Z. Chapman (The Hague. 1995). Segerman. Syntagma musicum. 1924). ed. Syntagma musicum II: De Organographia Parts I and II. Jahrhunderts in Nord. 1934). P. Voices and Viols in England. Lee. Orologio. 3–63. FoMRHIQ 27 (April 1982). Woodfield. 140–54. 1986). diss. Mich. D. Moritz Landgraf of Hessen. 238. M. Crosby. 5–79. Annales musicologiques 6 (1958–63). Riley. 1986). Warlock (London. C. 1965).. Mus. Mönkemeyer (Celle. Lasocki (Utrecht. H. Mystery. ed. 159–79. E. Perisan. Sämliche Werke 9 (Wiesbaden.. Thomas (London.D. or Misnomer?’ in W. 1609). 20 C. 15 See D. ed. Ph. Fiddlers. 13 M. 1968). H. see Riley. The Kassel Pavan Collection: I . 14 B. 235. for Hitzler. ed. 1600–1650: The Sources and the Music (Ann Arbor. 38. P. 168. 259–60. Ander Theil Außerlesener lieblicher Paduanen (Hamburg. Crookes (Oxford. 1995). 19.. 1617). 239–41. ed. 1974). University of Michigan (1954). The History of Violin Playing from its Origins to 1761 (London. ‘Giovanni Maria Lanfranco’s Scintille di musica and its Relation to Sixteenth-Century Music Theory’. Intradae Quinque et Sex Vocibus Liber Primus. 16 Praetorius. 58. 21–7. E. ed. Wool.und Mitteleuropa (Kassel. especially 24–6. for Zacconi. 273–9. 1500–1837)’. G. Crookes. 1994). see P. ed.. ‘The Teaching of Bowed Instruments from 1511 to 1756’.D. 1963). D. ‘Hizler’s [sic] Tenor Violin’. The Early History of the Viol. C. ed. Cornell University (1961). R. 104–17. Boyden. 21 Eight Short Elizabethan Dance Tunes. Recercare 3 (1991).

48–50. 665–79. Université de Montréal (1995). 52–3. Harwood. L. Syntagma musicum. 10. Pistoy-Basses and Loaded-Weighted Bass Gut Strings’. 456–7. Segerman. ed. 1968). Arie. 2/1976). Ashbee and Holman (Oxford. 1979). J. Lute News 45 (March 1998). idem. 7. 54. 31 For lute stringing and tuning. Canzonette e Balli. P. 202. see Fiddlers. 25–8. 29 O. The Catgut Acoustical Society Newsletter 26 (November 1976). Music for Elizabethan Lutes. 161. Ward. ‘“Evenly. no. 34 P. ‘New Hypothesis on the Construction of Bass Strings for Lutes and other Gut-Strung Instruments’. 353–82. MB 28 (London. Keyboard Works (Settings of Secular Tunes and Dances). F. Add.Notes to pages 20–4 23 See especially D. Ph. Vecchi. 13–18. Morley. ed. MB 44 (London. LSJ 6 (1964). Keyboard Music: II. MS 33933. JAMIS 14 (1988). 72–84. f. 14. nos. 3b. Haynes. Salmen. 14–24. repr. La.D. 117 and pl. 136–8. 86. 470–81. 34–8. ‘On Venice Catlins. MSS 17786–91. J. ‘From Violone to Violoncello: A Question of Strings?’ JAMIS 3 (1977). ed. ‘Gut Stringing for Lutes’. U. 48–73. 5 Sonatas’. 341. for arguments that the top parts of mixed consorts were primarily intended for the violin rather than the treble viol. idem. ed. Caroso. and Sweetly Acchording to All”: The Organ Accompaniment of English Consort Music’. 1892. Mortensen. 22–36. 33 The viol parts mentioned on the title-page do not seem to survive. and may never have been published. pp. Nobiltà di dame. Poulton. ‘Catline Strings Revisited’. Sweelinck. Opera omnia – Editio altera 3 (Amsterdam. 1996). Lyons. Sutton and F. 24 Praetorius. JD. P. M. ‘Pitch Standards in the Baroque and Classical Period’. 38–60. 21–6. Jahrhundert. FoMRHIQ 76 ( July 1994). 184. Consort Lessons. FoMRHIQ 62 ( January 1991). 1976). Bonta. EM 24 (1996). 1986). GSJ 27 (1974). Musikleben im 16. Byrd. thesis. Add. ‘ ‘‘Unerringly Tasteful”?: Harpsichord Continuo in Corelli’s op.III. Walker (Oxford. Musikgeschichte in Bildern III/9 (Leipzig. Doe. I.483. ‘Strings in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries’. Peruffo. GB-Eu. Noske. Abbott and E. 32 F. ‘Further Thoughts on the History of Strings’. Beck. Crookes. see D. 26 I. Holman. ed. John Jenkins and his Time: Studies in English Consort Music. ‘Lute Stringing in the Light of the Surviving Tablatures’. f. 27 Ed. 28 W. Segerman. Softly. Chilesotti (Milan. GB-Lbl. Fiddlers. 1600’. 2/1974). M. O. A. idem. ed. S. 85 . no. no. ‘A Case of Double Standards? Instrumental Pitch in England c. GB-Lbl. 30 W. 25 The most recent and authoritative study is B. 64–99. EM 9 (1981).

W. the Balletto. Beck. A. ed. Cunningham. Gingell. The Allemande. 8 The Fitzwilliam Virginal Book. Brown. Doe. Caldwell. 297–308. ed. 5 See. 90–103. 144–6. The Well Enchanting Skill: Essays in Honour of Frederick W. for instance. 108–14. App. reconstructed four-part consort versions are in Seven Dances from the Court of Henry VIII. Olleson and S. Royal Appendix MSS 74–6. 2 T. M. A Plain and Easy Introduction to Practical Music. ed. Thomas (London. R. Harman (London. E. P. 296–7. Preserved at the Archives at Simancas and Elsewhere 2. 7 Arbeau. 142. The Renaissance Dance Book (London. and State Papers. no. The Renaissance Dance Book. 6. 1976). Relating to the Negotiations between England and Spain. 12 Tudor Keyboard Music c1520–1580. Fuller Maitland and W. Consort Lessons. P. 13–24. MB 66 (London. ed. EM 4 (1976). Italian Dances of the Early Sixteenth Century. Dirksen. 1979). scavant Musicien. Sternfeld. W. Hudson. there is a selection from the Holmes manuscripts in Music for Mixed Consort. Beck. ed. 3 The dance types 1 J. Beaumont (London. 1–22. 1987). no. ‘The Maner of Dauncying’. C. Tyler. Orchesography. 1977). see also Calendar of Letters. Rooley and J. MB 40 (London. 58–9. A. M. Hudson. MB 44 (London. ‘And Who but Ladie Greensleeves’. trans. 10 H. 1995). complete edition in Elizabethan Consort Music: I. MB 27 (London. ed. 1866). ed. Keyboard Music: I. 1894–9. Holman (Corby. J. Barclay Squire (London and Leipzig. Bergenroth (London. Fiddlers. the Balletto. Byrd. 1997). ed. ‘The Lute Consort’. 1976) is a useful introduction to the subject. 36 Harwood. Consort Lessons. Despatches. 13 J. ed. 1986). Thomas and Gingell. no. 11 See A. 2/1976). 1983). Orchesography. see also B. ed. 9 GB-Lbl. Morley. B. 1925). The Keyboard Music of Jan Pieterzoon Sweelinck (Utrecht. Ward. 1991). J. 445. Morrow. 85. 68–9. Caldwell. repr. Embellishing Sixteenth-Century Music (London. ed. W. see Fiddlers. ‘A Case of Double Standards’. 3 T. 39–44. 1990). d’Estrée. G. 139. P. Ward. The Allemande. and the Tanz (Cambridge. and the Tanz. 76–111. no. 16–27. ed. nos. Wollenberg (Oxford. Arbeau. 21a. 2/1963). Premier Livre de Danseries 1559. 4 R.Notes to pages 24–30 35 Edited in Morley. Thomas and J. Morley. J. Jean d’Estrée. 477–8. ed. Dance Music of the Middle Ages and Renaissance 1 (London. 181–211. C. nos. nos. see also. A. 86 . Brown. ‘Estienne du Tertre. A. Edwards. LSJ 14 (1972). see Fiddlers. 22. 1963). 6 See J.

ed. See Fiddlers. P. R. Fiddlers. 10–21. The Tregian Manuscript. Consort Music. see G. Tisdale’s Virginal Book. 1–15.. ed. Tudor Music (London. no. 82. Keyboard Interpretation (London. 1981). ed. ‘A Critical Edition’. ed. 35. Ibid. 1. 308. My Ladye Nevells Booke of Virginal Music. Ferguson. 30. D’Accone. The Principles of Musik. British Library MS Egerton 3665 (‘The Tregian Manuscript’). 151–2. ed. 517v–519. 87 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 . ‘The Keyboard Music of Orlando Gibbons’. Renaissance Music in Facsimile 7 (New York. no. Ph. 75–6. ‘Rosseter’s Lessons for Consort of 1609’. 145–8. Wool. ed. 6. 109. ed. Elizabethan Consort Music: I. repr. J. Music for Mixed Consort. The Dublin Virginal Book. Byrd. nos. W. see Fiddlers. Andrews (London. For example. Hendrie. 1975). The Dublin Virginal Book. Harwood. H. Doe. MS 17771. 40 and 48. 500–1. nos. 1969). ed. Edwards. Bassano. 3. Morley. no. nos. no. 150–1. Morley. Sweelinck.. 221v. Bryn Mawr College (1969). A-Wn. D. no. W. 514–523. ed. see Fiddlers. Beck. DM. Davis (London. 1988). 101. no. no. 83. ed. 105–9.. M. A. Harman. Ward (London. 249. no. A Plain and Easy Introduction. Dirksen. II. 20. 13. A. Music for Mixed Consort. Consort Lessons. H.Notes to pages 31–6 joueur de hautbois du Roy. ed. ed. Wulstan. 5. ed. 1926. 4. ed. 26. 148–55. Holman (London. London. J. f. Edwards. Brown (London. ‘A Critical Edition’. ibid. 505–6. 4 The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’ 1 See the lists in JD. II. D’Accone. no. Doe. ed. The Elizabethan Madrigal. 319–56. 83–5. 164–8. no. I. Pavans and Galliards in Five Parts. which Doe prints separately as App. PRMA 89 (1962–3). ed. Wool. F. 3. Elizabethan Consort Music: I. Taffel-Consort. Tomkins. 487–8. no. ‘A Critical Edition’. T. 34. no. 1985). 106. and the Mid-Sixteenth Century Franco-Flemish Chanson and Ensemble Dance’. 39–40. 29. LSJ 7 (1965). 24–5. A point made by Bernard Thomas in Simpson. Kerman. 15–23. 80. 1969). 1966). A. iv. Ward. 36. no.D. 1983). Doe. Elizabethan Consort Music: I. The Works of Thomas Campion. Wool. ff. diss. II. 118–20. the attribution to Innocent comes from the Quintus of the galliard. Irving. II. 91–2. 60–1. MB 59. ff.

A Plain and Easy Introduction. Tours (Paris. was corrected by Dowland himself. Mies. Rosand. English Renaissance Song (Boston. see I. 15 A. JD. 26–31. Songs and Instrumental Dances’. 65–7. 1986). ‘New Light on John Dowland’s Songs of Darkness’. 445–58. Meier. A. Tune thy Musicke to thy Hart: The Art of Eloquent Singing in England 1597–1622 (Toronto. 1995). The Chromatic Fourth during Four Centuries of Music (Oxford. 14 Luca Marenzio Opera Omnia V. 1949). 11v–12. Pike. 88 . 3 JD. Harman. Obertello. 126–7. V. 40–72. O. 128. 6–21. The Elizabethan Madrigal. LSJ 5 (1963). Lassus. ed. Concert des voix et des instruments à la renaissance: Actes du colloque organisé en 1991 par Le Centre d’Etudes Supérieures de la Renaissance. ‘Dowland’s Lachrimae Tune’. Harwood. 1997). 1990). Palisca (New Haven and London. 160. A Plain and Easy Introduction. The Madrigal at Ferrara 1579–1597 (Princeton. Rooley. 61. 59–64. 1983). Wisc. Williams. 15. 290–1. see the facsimile edition. 6. 587–99. see D. Henning. 5 Fiddlers. trans. 125–6. 16 A. ‘The Descending Tetrachord: An Emblem of Lament’. 4 JD. P. a reference brought to my attention by David Pinto. 346–59. 18 Morley. P. 294. 10–11. ‘The Origins of the Cambridge Lute Manuscripts’. Newcomb. Berquist (Madison. ‘Dowland’s Tears’. 12 CLM. 82. 1980).Notes to pages 36–44 2 CLM. ‘Dowland’s Dance Songs: Those of his Compositions which Exist in Two Versions. C. 8 O. for Holmes. ch. ed. B. 1558. ed. The Consort 26 (1970). Madrigali italiani in Inghilterra (Milan. ‘A Possible Source of Lachrimae’. Spencer. The Seven Penitential Psalms and Laudate Domine de caelis. ed. CMM 72 ([Stuttgart]. nos. Morley. 17 Kerman. 170–7. Université François-Rabelais. 10 DM. 7 G. 20 R. 135–6. EM 11 (1983). 3. E. 1983).. ed. ff. 86–8. 7–37. H. 9 R. Expression and the Evolution of Musical Language. Wells. On the Modes: Part Four of ‘Le istitutioni harmoniche’. 1993). MD 4 (1950). 13 Pinto. 32–48. 126. 2. no. II. R. ed. 4. Cohen. 81–3. 19 R. LSJ 16 (1974). Harman. Robert Spencer suggested to me that the version in the Board Manuscript. ‘The Chromatic Fourth’. Drama and Music (Cambridge. 6 This discussion is indebted to L. Toft. Zarlino. 1994). see also E. Spencer. Hofmann. MQ 65 (1979). 11 Pike. Elizabethan Mythologies: Studies in Poetry. Doughtie. Expression and the Evolution of Musical Language (forthcoming).

. Tune thy Musicke to thy Hart. R. 146–7. 28 R. 2/1978). 251. 38 St. Expression and the Evolution of Musical Language. 180. Dart and W. Tye. no. ed. 63. Brown.. C. E. 37–40. J. Warlock. ‘Performance Style of the English Lute Ayre c. 514–28. New York. Liturgical Music. 28. 19. 39. 117–18. 220–4. ed. E. Studies in the History of Christian Thought 70 (Leiden. Bartel. 33 J. Morley.A. Tudor Figures of Rhetoric. Le Huray. J. ed. The Divine Poems. Bartel. 1972). D. Augustine’s Confessions with an English Translation by William Watts 1631. 204. Pauly. 62. 1977). Tune thy Musicke to thy Hart. repr. W. Opusculum neuwer Pavanen. The English Ayre (London. 13. Edwards. diss. H. Wisc. and London. The Heaven Singing: Music in Early English Religious Drama. Tudor Figures of Rhetoric (Whitewater. English Sacred Music. II. ed. 304–5. R. The Lute 24 (1984). Pike. Weelkes. 2/1975). Stanford University (1995). The Elizabethan Madrigal. H. 1912. 24 Ibid. Collins and P. Gardner (Oxford. Musica poetica. EECM 19 (London. Pinto. MB 9 (London. S. ‘Dowland’s Tears’.. EM 13 (1985). 46. 34 Lange. 30 C. MB 23 (London. see also W. Wells. 179–80. ‘John Dowland and Elizabethan Melancholy’. Lange. Music and the Reformation in England 1549–1660 (London. R. Telling Tears. Nebr. Le Huray. T. T. 23 Toft. 234. 37 ‘Dowland’s Tears’ and personal communication. Rouse (Cambridge. revised as ‘Dowland. 131–3.M. 32 M. 1996). Cologne. 1977). T. there is a modernised transcription in JD. Telling Tears in the English Renaissance. D. 25 Toft. Toft. Rastall. 173. nos. 26–41. Donne. 189–207. ff. W. M. 43. H. 2/1966). Taylor. 1997). JD. 91–92v. 1967).. Morehen. Musica poetica: Musical-Rhetorical Figures in German Baroque Music (Lincoln. 82. Spencer. 27 Simpson. ‘Rhetoric and the Performance of Seventeenth-Century English Continuo Song’. Tune thy Musicke to thy Hart. 1991). no. Coates. see P. 1600’. EECM 38 (London. 22 Toft. ed. 78–9. D. Collected Anthems. I (Cambridge. see also Taylor. H. 99–124. ed. 33–4. 2/1982). 55–68. ‘New Light’. Morehen. 35 P. ed. 129–47. 39. 39 JD. Mass. 3. Library of Hatfield House. D. 31 Edited in Jacobean Consort Music. Tune thy Musicke to thy Hart. Mönkemeyer. 1996).. 342–56. Ficino and Elizabethan Melancholy’. 26 Toft. P. 2. 89 . 29 Kerman. English Anthems. Meyer. 18. 36 Rooley. and London. 1926). Tune thy Musicke to thy Hart. 6–7.Notes to pages 44–49 21 In particular. Elizabethan Mythologies. 11–23. Early English Chamber Music (London.

Babb. MS 27579. The Elizabethan Malady. N. EM 20 (1992). no. The Anatomy of Melancholy. see JD. Musica Poetica. 1955). Culture. Blair (Oxford. 112–14. ed.. F. 227–33. 58 Burton.Notes to pages 50–63 40 R. 1991). 400. Galiards. Kiessling and Blair. H. Thomas (London. The Elizabethan Malady. Austern. 49. 49 D. but the relevant chord there is 6 –3 rather than 6 –3 . 29. 44 GB-Lbl. 142–6. Bartel. The Elizabethan Malady. 48 Toft. 1951). Faulkner. The Anatomy of Melancholy. 3 J. Add. II. ed. Tatlow. Faulkner. and Almands’ 1 Il nuovo Vogel: Bibliografia della musica italiana vocale profana. Faulkner. ‘Dowland’s Lachrymal Airs’. Faulkner. 60. The Elizabethan Malady: A Study of Melancholia in English Literature from 1580 to 1642 (East Lansing. 6b. 394–7. 399 and illus. II. 74–5. Burton. 64. 56 Burton. Kiessling and Blair.. ed. L. 525. 90 . 43 See in particular. The Anatomy of Melancholy. 59 Babb. 334–9. Faulkner. 4 Wool. Myth and the Musician in Early Modern England’. 215. 330–445. The Anatomy of Melancholy. ed. Musica poetica. 44. Darbishire (Oxford. 1–72. 5 ‘Divers other Pavans. Faulkner. B. Sartori (Geneva. ‘A Critical Edition’. 60 JD. 184–5. see also the reply by David Pinto. 13–14 of ‘I saw my Lady weepe’. T. III. I. 73–101. JAMS 51 (1998). Tune the Musicke to thy Hart. 88. 36. 1993). III. 50 Burton. 343. ‘My Lady’s Tears: A Pair of Songs by John Dowland’. 51 Ibid. Banchetto musicale 1617. Lesure and C. I. 41 L. 1977–83). relates the passage to bb. Milton. 197. ed. Kiessling and R. 21. H. Kiessling and Blair. The Elizabethan Malady. 80. 413–14. Kiessling and Blair. I owe this idea to Tim Carter. A. The Anatomy of Melancholy. 2 R. ed. Expression and the Evolution of Musical Language. 42 Burton. ‘Nature. Poetical Works. EM 19 (1991). 45 JD. Babb. 116. III. 52 Babb. 47 Burton. Schein. ed. 355–6. II. 57 Babb. K.. f. C. 46 L. 999–1035. 178–80: J. Mich. 1989–94). especially 33. ed. ed. 54 A point made in Pike. Kiessling and Blair. 55 Bartel. Bach and the Riddle of the Number Alphabet (Cambridge. Leech-Wilkinson. 53 Ibid. The Anatomy of Melancholy.

nos. ‘Dowland’s Tears’. nos. see also JD. 18. The Complete Works 1 (Cambridge. A. 129–31. Jorgens. JD. 47–8. 94. see also JD. On the Modes.. 30. 46. 17–22. Orchesography. 8 Toft. 85. ‘Galliard Can she excuse and may serve to Lacrimae’. 167. 9. for instance. 119–20. 150–1. Cohen. Brown. A. JD. CLM. see R. JD. The Well-Tun’d Word: Musical Interpretations of English Poetry 1597–1651 (Minneapolis. CLM. f. 595–9. JD. 25 E. St Augustine’s Confessions with an English Translation by William Watts 1631. 149. LSJ 4 (1962). Eight Short Elizabethan Dances. DM. 7 The Diary of John Manningham. 22 D. 63–4. Tune thy Musicke to thy Hart. 42. 17. 3. 5. 120. Companion to Mediaeval and Renaissance Music. Brown. ed. Zarlino. DM. 16 Notes to P. 95. 421–2. Mass. no. no. 31 Byrd.Notes to pages 63–70 5 A point made in Pinto. f. 296–7. 19 Ibid. Strong. no. 359. 53–76. 23 CLM.. R. Fellowes. English Renaissance Song. 25. ‘Dowland’s Dance-Songs’. 26. no. John Dowland: Complete Lute Works 3. 14v. no.. 40–1. R. 21 DM. 26 Arbeau. 19. Add. 24 Ibid. 7. MS in the possession of Lord Forester. MSS 17786–91. for instance. 1976). Holborne. trans. 31. 23. 2/1997). 64–5. nos. 14a. B. no. 223–4. 2. 91 . ed. ed. Knighton and D. see. 30 DM. nos. I. 14. no. P. see JD. no. 423–5. T. O’Dette.d. Beaumont. see Spencer. 11 For Unton. 13. 145–6. ed. Archaeologia 99 (1965). Keyboard Music: II. ed. 17 JD. 82–4. GB-Lbl. 15 CLM. Tisdale’s Virginal Book. 1967). 10 GB-Ge. 27 JD. Sorlien (Hanover. 1982).. 6 Edwards. ed. Music for Lute and Bandora. 18 CLM. see. Harmonia Mundi HMU 907162. 13 JD. 9 CLM. 34. 414. ‘Captain Digory Piper of the Sweepstake’. 226–30. 29 CLM. ‘A Portrait of Sir Henry Unton’. Rooley. I am grateful to Matthew Spring for advice on this point. Fallows (Oxford. 3. Palisca. nos. 1. 14 G. ed. 85–92. 54. see also Edwards. 55. 60.43. JD. NH. 431–3. 429. 20 Doughtie. no. 67. 150. 12 Edwards. 73–4. Poulton. 28 Ibid. ‘Sir Henry Unton and his Portrait: An Elizabethan Memorial Picture and its History’.

1–2. Bull. Brown. Noske. Dart. Irving. CLM. 1991). ed. 1970).Notes to pages 70–6 32 CLM. Simpson. 1957). Haussmann. Ludi musici prima pars (1621). Lied. 19. Brade. Breig. 1975). no. 4 Dirksen. 34 Fiddlers. 1985). no. Boelsche. 39 CLM. Außerlesener. Schein. W. ed. Mönkemeyer. J. 36–9. Dirksen. & Tragedies (1623. series 1. Thomas (London. Hunter (Urbana. especially ch. 28–31. 20. 24. 4. Sweelinck. 6–7. no. no. 32–5. MB 19 (London.. and London. 5 S. ed. Weelkes. 36 JD. ed. no. no. ed. Werke 5 (Hamburg. 3. 41 JD. 2. 1904). Payne (St Albans. Mahrenholz. Scheidt. Pavans and Galliards (1614). 38 The Principles of Musik. 29. 61–2. no. 26. 133. Bernstein (University Park. Cambridge Consorts: Pavans and Galliards in Five Parts. Ill. see JD. 40 Mr William Shakespeare’s Comedies. Lied. 27. ed. no. see also DM. Thomas. Keyboard Works. 31–4. T. 38. Ausgewählte Instrumentalwerke. 33 French Chansons of the Sixteenth Century. 408. 94. 29. Histories. 1996). 31–2. 488. F. B. 151. G. Thomas. 253–5. 33. 41. 60–1. Mönkemeyer. 2. Opusculum. 81. ed. see also C. nos. R. Mönkemeyer. M. Wilson. S. DDT. no. 28–9. Scotland and America 1660–1820 (Oxford. ed. CCM. ed. 308. Sweelinck. Keyboard Music: II. 25. repr. 651–2. Anglican Chant and Chanting in England. ed. Tomkins. 2 Simpson. Opusculum neuwer Paduanen. 371. DM. nos. 6 Reception 1 Simpson. ed. nos. 138–42. ed. V. C. 42 CLM. ed. 7–8. I. 35 DM. Penn. 37 CLM. 7.und Tanzvariationen. Mönkemeyer. Banchetto musicale. ed.und Tanzvariationen der SweelinckSchule. 52. 1970). no. 1985). 6 T. 43 JD. 108. 1954). Fiddlers. ed. 91. DM. ed.. J. 28–9. Hamlet and Shakespeare: A Study of Englishmen’s Knowledge of Denmark towards the End of the Sixteenth Century with Special Reference to Hamlet (Salzburg. 92 . Sweelinck. Denmark. 6. 16 (Leipzig. 122–7. Scheidt. Breig (Mainz. Consort Music. 39. Byrd. no. 44 JD. 1996). Unedierte Kompositionen für Tasteninstrumente. CLM. 435–6. 3 For sources. 26. 40. Mönkemeyer. 10. 107. Keyboard Music: II. Five-Part Pavans. Opusculum. Dollerup. ed. ed. A. no. Paduanen und Galliarden Erster Theil. ed. 16–17. no. Erster Theil.

MB 26 (London. nos. The World’s Encyclopaedia of Recorded Music. Keyboard Music. A General History of the Science and Practice of Music (London. Cuming. Keyboard Works. Ashbee.Notes to pages 77–9 7 T. 23–5. van Baak Griffioen. 16 Harmonia Mundi HM30623. 1963). L’Oiseau Lyre Florilegium. ed. reissued on CD in John Dowland: The Collected Works. MB 20 (London. DM. Burney. T. Schop. F. 15a. 1991). A. 1853. Mercer (London. no. 17. ‘“L’Amant malheureux”: S. idem. 21–8. G. Consort Music of Four Parts. 481–3. Amon Ra CD-SAR55. 15 L’Oiseau Lyre OL50163 / OLS164. 10 T. 12 Baak Griffioen. idem. repr. 1995). C. Fantasia Suites. ed. L. ‘Whitehead’ and ‘Nichol’ by a New York string orchestra directed by Max Goberman on the General label. ‘Collier’. Allmanden sowie eine Galliarde und eine Canzone zu 4 Stimmen. 179–81. ed. ed. Auvidis Fontalis ES 8701. D. 149–52. 1950). 16. 93 . 13 J. Pinto (London. ed. 6. 179–81. 1961). R. 11 R. Consort Sets in Five and Six Parts. 8 W. II. 9 ’t Uitnement Kabinet VIII. 14 Pye CCL 30121. F. lists an undated recording of ‘Langton’. ed.553326. 18. xvii–xix. 490–1. repr. Hawkins. JD. ed. DSLO 517. Virgin VC5 45005. 67–8. Hendrie. J. O. Hyperion CDA66639. MB 60 (London. L’Oiseau Lyre 452 563–2. Naxos 8. Monumenta musica Neerlandica 3 (Amsterdam. 104–5. ed. for Joseph Butler. BIS CD 315. A. Gibbons. 1978). I (Colwyn Bay. ed. ed. 1935. F. ‘Denmark’. 1969). J. Dart (London. 138–40. Jacob van Eyck’s Der fluyten lust-hof (Utrecht. 5. ed. Pinto (London. Lawes. Curtis. Crawford. Clough and G. no. see Dutch Keyboard Music of the 16th and 17th Centuries. 1959). Morley. 1957). paper read to the 1995 Royal Musical Association conference. see also. J. 117. nos. Jenkins. Rasch (Amsterdam. D. A General History of Music. 1991). 30–2. 75. Der fluyten lust-hof. Paduanen. Weiss and French Music’. 1982). 57. 1979). ‘Essex’. Hagge (Zurich. ‘Noel’. 1962). The Royall Consort (Old Consort). Pinto. 249–53.

C. M. 1951) Bartel. English Music Printing 1553–1700 (London. 470–81 Holman. The Anatomy of Melancholy. M. EM 9 (1981). English Renaissance Song (Boston. 1876) Baak Griffioen. W. A Transcript of the Registers of the Company of Stationers of London 1554–1640. Blair (Oxford. 1997) Doughtie. Ph. 365–80 Edwards. The Elizabethan Malady: A Study of Melancholia in English Literature from 1580 to 1642 (East Lansing. 1986) Dowling. D. thesis. The Library. 1996) Leech-Wilkinson. Musica poetica: Musical-Rhetorical Figures in German Baroque Music (Lincoln. trans. P.D. K. D. 1962) Krummel.. L. 2/1995) Kerman. 1975) Lange. Nebr. van Jacob van Eyck’s Der fluyten lust-hof (Utrecht. Mich. W. R. E. ‘My Lady’s Tears: A Pair of Songs by John Dowland’. C. 4th series. L. R. I. Beaumont (London. ‘The Sources of Elizabethan Consort Music’. ‘The Printing of John Dowland’s Second Booke of Ayres’.. New York. The Keyboard Music of Jan Pieterzoon Sweelinck (Utrecht. C. EM 19 (1991). Faulkner. Orchesography. 12 (1932). P. The Principles of Musik (London. Telling Tears in the English Renaissance. E. 1989–94) Butler. Cologne. 1991) Babb. T. 1993. N. Four and Twenty Fiddlers: The Violin at the English Court 1540–1690 (Oxford. see the Preface and Abbreviations Arbeau. 227–33 94 .Select bibliography For editions of music. The Elizabethan Madrigal: A Comparative Study (New York. 1997) Burton. E. III (London. D. 1600’. Kiessling and R. ‘A Case of Double Standards? Instrumental Pitch in England c. J. ed. W. Studies in the History of Christian Thought 70 (Leiden. University of Cambridge (1974) Harwood. 1925) Arber. and London. T. 1636) Dirksen.

1992) Wells. M. 1952. JLSA 10 (1977) Music for Elizabethan Lutes (Oxford. 1972. A Dowland Miscellany. diss. 1983) 95 .. T. 587–99 Taylor. Expression and the Evolution of Musical Language (forthcoming) Pinto. W. 44–75 Poulton. R. Songs and Instrumental Dances’. Mus. Tune thy Musicke to thy Hart: The Art of Eloquent Singing in England 1597–1622 (Toronto. On the Modes: Part Four of ‘Le istitutioni harmoniche’. ‘Dowland’s Dance Songs: Those of his Compositions which Exist in Two Versions. R. 2/1963) Pike. I. Concert des voix et des instruments à la renaissance: Actes du colloque organisé en 1991 par Le Centre d’Etudes Supérieures de la Renaissance. Elizabethan Mythologies: Studies in Poetry. Harman (London. Université François-Rabelais. The Early History of the Viol (Cambridge. 1994) Woodfield. H. D. 1995). V. C.Select bibliography Morley. ‘A Critical Edition and Historical Commentary of Kassel 4° MS Mus. 1972) Toft. D. 125’.. 1984) Wool. G. 2/1982) Rooley. The Lute 37 (1997). J. R. L. ‘Dowland’s Tears: Aspects of Lachrimae’. R. Wisc. 6–21 Spencer. A. Palisca (New Haven and London. Tours (Paris. A. ed. M. A Plain and Easy Introduction to Practical Music. 1993) Ward. Drama and Music (Cambridge. ‘New Light on John Dowland’s Songs of Darkness’. ed. Cohen. John Dowland (London. C. 1558. EM 11 (1983). Tudor Figures of Rhetoric (Whitewater. University of London (1983) Zarlino. trans.

19. Francis 43–4 Barley. 61 Barton. 28 anabasis 44–5. Nicholas 61 Caroso. 34. 5 Deering. Daniel 69 Bacon. 69 Aristotle 14. 30. 72 Consort of Musicke 79 Coprario. Fabritio 23 Cauleray. Hans von 3 Borgia. 50 Doughtie. Benjamin 76 Créquillon. 54–6. Thoinot 27–9. 16–17. William 1. John Andreas Ornithoparcus his Micrologus 6 96 . Sir Richard 15 Chappell. Sir Robert 2–3. 35. 72. Lawrence 59 Bacheler. Augustine 33 basse danse 26–8. 22. Thomas 5–7 Adriaenssen. John 48. Thomas 40 Crofts. 23. 32 Augustine. 31. Emanuel 8. Robert 50–2. 29. 12. 78 Charles V. 36 Bartlet. 7. 64 auxesis 44–5 Babb. William 16–17. 19. Charles 15–16. 72–3 Butler. 49 Arbeau. Adrian 8 Donne. Saint 49. Robert 58 Cumberland. 23 Alison. 19–20 Denss.Index Adams. 47 ‘Belle qui tiens ma vie’ 29 Bergamasca 35 Board Manuscript 6 Bodeck. Lucrezia 14 Boyce. John 5 Cosyn. Edward 67 Dowland Consort 79 Dowland. 70. 49 Champernowne. Richard 16 Denmark 3–5. Joseph 77 Byrd. John 5. 57–8 anaphora 43–4 Anne of Denmark 4. 16. William 1–2. George Earl of 69 Cutting. William 6. 76 Camphuysen. John 1. 58–9 Butler. Charles 78 Burton. 61 Carleton. John 16. Thurston 79 Day. Richard 5 Allemande du Prince 29 alta capella 26. William 78 Brade. Andrew 78 Bassano. 55. 72 Burney. John 6 Dart. King of Denmark 3. Thomas 3 Dallis lute manuscript 72 Danyel. Thomas 34–5. Dirk Rafaelszoon 77 Campion. 76–7 Brescia 13 Bull. 58 Arundel part-books 29–30. emperor 26 choirbook format 8 Christian IV. Jean 40 Cecil.

Isabella d’ 13–14 Estrée. Warwick 9. 68 Piper’s Pavan 63. Edward 63. Jean d’ 30 Euing Lute Book 65 exclamatio 46 Eyck. 35 Düsseldorf 22 East. Michael 5. Marsilio 58 Florence 3 Ford. Langton’s Galliard 72 ‘Lasso vita mia’ 23 Melancholy Galliard 51 Mignarda 68 ‘My thoughts are wingd with hopes’ 69 ‘Now. 71 Ferrabosco. Orlando 76–7 97 . 76 Lachrimae. 6–9. 21 Gabrieli. 48. 67 Elizabethan Players 79 Elyot. 62 East. Jacob van 77–8 fantasia 17. O now I needs must part’ 41. see separate entry ‘Lady if you so spite me’ 75–6 La mia Barbara pavan 67. 67 Dowland. sweet love doth now envite’ 77 ‘Excuse me’ 78 ‘Goe nightly cares’ 23 Farewell fantasia 40 The First Booke of Songes or Ayres 2–3. 79–80 Elizabeth I. 6–7 Eastland. 62 ‘Flow my teares’ 22. 75 Queen Elizabeth’s Galliard 69 Round Battle Galliard 72 The Second Booke of Songs or Ayres 5–7. Robert 6 Dublin Virginal Book 32. George 6 ecphonesis 46 Edwards. Daniel 48 Ferrabosco. John 78 Gheeraerts. Thomas 1–2. Zacharius 17. 3–4. Alfonso I 21. 31. Alfonso d’ 14 Este. the Earl of 67–8 Este. 76 Farrant. 36–7 ‘Shall I strive with wordes to move’ 68 Suzanna Galliard 71 The Third and Last Booke of Songs or Aires 5–6 Viscount Lisle’s Galliard 71 ‘Were every thought an eye’ 75 ‘Would my conceit that first enforced my woe’ 41 Dowland Lutebook 6. Marcus 22 Gibbons. Thomas 5 Francisque. 51 Frog Galliard 77 ‘From silent night’ 23 Galliard to Lachrimae 70 ‘Go christall teares’ 63 ‘If my complaints could passions move’ 68 ‘In darknesse let me dwell’ 65 ‘I saw my lady weepe’ 54–6 Lachrimae pavan 29. Antoine 23 Fretwork 79 Füllsack. Jacques 77 Gay. 44 Farnaby. 77–8 Catholicism 3. 70. 54. 44–6 Forlorn Hope Fancy 40. 75 Mr. 77 A Pilgrimes Solace 23. 70. Alfonso II 48 Ferrara 13–14 Ficino. 19. Mrs 5–6 Dowland. 36–7.Index ‘Awake sweete love’ 67 ‘Can she excuse my wrongs’ 67. 63. 65 Elgar. Giovanni 40 Galen 58 Gallot. Giles 61. 49 ‘Come againe. Queen 1. Sir Thomas 27 English Consort of Viols 79 epizeuxis 53 Essex.

Rudolf 40 Henry VIII. 39 Gonzaga. 62.Index Glareanus. 35. see Grep ‘Greensleeves’ 29 Grep. Hans Leo 19 Haultin. Anne 65 Hesperion XX 79 Hildebrand. 49. John 66 Lassus. Matthew 30. 52–3. Konrad 75 Hamlet 72 Harding. Daniel 18 Hoby. 8 Kirbye. 73 Whitehead 74 Lanfranco. 67–8. 59 Collier 18. 24. Christian 17. James 69–70 Harwood. Nicholas 73 Hagius. Michel 45 Le Roy. Joachim van den 23 Hume. 62–3. Pierre 5 Haussmann. 56–7. 35. 47. 62. 73 Antiquae 19–20. 46. 73 date of 5–7 Denmark 20. 77 Gementes 19–20. 63. 75 Nichol 73–5 Noel 20. Marjory E. 36–7. 62–3. 35. Daniel 54 Le Faucheur. 68–9 Piper 20. 5. 75. 70. 57–60. 35. Henry 51 Hawkins. George 76 Kircher. Benedictus 16 Gryffith. Duke of Mantua 13 Greaves. Francesco. Orlandus Psalmi Davidis poenitentiales 40–1. Giles 70 hoftanz 28 Holborne. 55. 22. 62–5 Essex 20. 67. Ian 24 Hassler. 21 Hitzler. Joseph 32. 62. Anthony Cittharn Schoole 2. Galliards. 61 Greebe. see Arundel Lupo. 66–7. 51. 46–7. 60 Gryffith 73 Hoby 69–70 Langton 62. 73 Unton 19. John 77 Jones. Ben 48 Josquin des Pres 40 Kassel 2. 49. 71–2. 21. 31–3. 64. King 2–4 Jenkins. 62–3. 75 Bucton 71 Coactae 19–20. Martin 55 Lydian mode 66 Lyly. 8 The Funerals pavan 65–6 Pavans. 52–3. 68 Souch 19. Sir John 78 Henning. 54–9. Countess of Bedford 5 Lumley part-books. Adrian 23 London Consort of Viols 79 Lucy. King 26 Herbert. Tobias 5 humours 51 Hunnis. 68 Hoskins. William 77 Leech-Wilkinson. 46. 56. John 69 98 . William 47 Innocent of Cremona 32 James I. Almains 12. Valentin 74 Hawkins. 15. Giovanni Maria 17 Lange. 35. 69 Tristes 19–20. 47. 36–42. 53–4. 76 Dolens 19. 61 Jonson. 46. 69 Antique Novae 19–20. 19. 65–6 Verae 19–20. Robert 2. 48 Langton. 76 Holmes. 44–50. 59–60. 35. 49 ‘Susane un jour’ 71 Lawes. Thomas 5. Heinrich 34. John 45 Hove. 71 Luther. Athanasius 45 Lachrimae Amantis 19–20.

68 GB-Cu. 29. 64 Piper. MSS 17786–91: 19 GB-Lbl. Ernst 48 Mies. 55 Moritz. 40 Rooley. John. David 49–50. 40. 33–4 Sacred End pavan 32–3. Jacques 8 monopoly on printing music 1–2 Monteverdi. 35 Passamezzo moderno 28. 31–3. MS Dd. Landgrave of Hesse 19. MS 31390: 8–9 GB-Lbl. Thomas Canzonets or Little Short Aers to Five and Sixe Voices 2. 48 Mouton. Henry junior 12. Diana 37. Lionel 38. Francis 62 Pinto. 33. Robert 33 Passacaglia 40 Passamezzo antico 28–9. 66 Meinert. Pierre 8 Philips. Captain Digorie 68 pitch 21–2 Plato 14 Poulton. 31 1580 pavan 31. 40. 48. 47 Pilkington. Mus. 63 GB-Cfm. 43–4 Phalèse. 5. Otto 40 Milton. 19 Pacolini. Charles 77 Moy. 28 O’Dette. MS 734: 31 GB-Cu. e fiumi’ 41–2.1353: 37 GB-Lbl. fontane. 15. 22.Index Manningham. 37. Henry senior 44. 4° MS mus.3: 69 GB-Lbl. Thomas 6 Reusner. Giovanni 30 Parley of Instruments 79 Parsons. 57 Myners. 27–8. Paul 67 Oralii. 53. MS 4900: 8 GB-Lbl. William 76 Ravenscroft.11: 36–7. Louis de 23 Munday. Claudio 40. Anthony 48 Rore. 76 Morley. Edward 6 Robinson. 61 The First Booke of Ayres 5 The First Booke of Consort Lessons 9. dispietata morte’ 41 ‘Parto da voi. 74 Praetorius. 12. Luca 2. Add. John 59 mixed consort 15–16 Moderne. Marin 18 Meyer. Anthony 69 mutatio toni 53–4. 16. 29 ‘O Jesu meeke’ 47–8 A Plaine and Easie Introduction to Practicall Musicke 2. 69. Add. Cipriano de 40 Rose Consort 79 99 . 21 Ralegh. Thomas 6. John 16 Mersenne. Add. Walter 69 Randall. Filmer MS 2: 31 Marchant. 65 Dolorosa pavan 33 Philomusica of London 79 Phrygian mode 39 Pike. 8. Mr 32 Marenzio. Michael 17–18.78. MS Hirsch M. Dd. 2. 65 Peacham. 35 Peacham. see Meinert Nashe. Daniel 16 numerology 47. 61–2 Nuremberg 2–3. Royal Appendix MS 58: 30 US-NH. 1–5: 19. mio sole’ 41–2 ‘Rivi. 78 Romanesca 28–9. Peter 16. Alessandro 8. 55. Thomas 56 neoplatonism 48 Noel. 63–5. Esias 77 Rimbault. 46. Carolus 16 ornamentation 29–30 Orologio. 61 ‘Ahi. 35. Henry 68–9 Norcombe. 125. 40–3. John 64 Mantua 13–14 manuscripts D-Kl.

Peter 18. Master 35 tears 48 Tomkins. 66 Zouch. Heinrich 76 Scheidt. see Souch 100 . John 26–7. Thomas 1. Francis 31. 76 Schein. Silvius Leopold 77 Weld Lute Book 65 Wells. Thomas 43 Weelkes. Thomas 1 Tayler. Jan Pieterszoon 22. George 74 Wigthorpe. van. Sir Henry 65 Valencian viol 13 Valerius. Paul 76 Simpson. Sir John 69 strings 20 Strogers.Index Rosseter. 76 tordion 47 Tregian. 38. 15. Sir Robert 71 Siefert. Johann 77 Short. Orazio 22 Victoria. Giaches de 40 Whitehead. Peter 1–2 Sidney. 48. Thomas 33. 47. Nicholas 33 Sweelinck. Adriaen 77 Vallet. 33 tunings 17–18. Robin Headlam 43 Wert. 79 Watson. 75–6 ‘Some Rules and orders for the Government of an Earle’ 14–15 Souch. Gioseffo 39. Sir John. William 19. 76 tablature 5–6 Tallis. Philip 61 Lessons for Consort 9. Thomas 47. 31 Rude. 30. 76 Schildt. Henry 16 Scheidemann. John 5–6 Windsor 26 Wode. Samuel 25. Robert de 77 voix de ville 37 Wanstead 68 Ward. Lodovico 18 Zarlino. Thomas 16–17. Melchior 76 Schlobitten Castle 9 Schola Cantorum Basiliensis 79 Schop. Johann Hermann 62. 25. 68. 5 Vecchi. 22–3 Tye. 70 Wilder. Thomas 22 Wolfenbüttel 2 word-painting 43 Zacconi. 40. Nicolas 77 Vautrollier. 71 Warlock. 76 Weiss. Tomás Luis de 40 villanella 37 Vingt-quatre violons 18 Visée. family 14 ‘Will you go walk the woods so wild’ 67–8 Winchester 4 Windet. Christopher 47 Unton. Johann 37 Sandam.