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

  

Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)
Dowland’s Lachrimae (1604) is perhaps the greatest but most enigmatic publication of instrumental music from before the eighteenth century. This new handbook, the first detailed study of the collection, investigates its publication history, its instrumentation, its place in the history of Renaissance dance music, and its reception history. Two extended chapters examine the twentyone pieces in the collection in detail, discussing the complex internal relationships 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.            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.

CAMBRIDGE MUSIC HANDBOOKS              Julian Rushton
Recent titles Bach: The Brandenburg Concertos          Bartók: Concerto for Orchestra          Beethoven: Eroica Symphony           Beethoven: The ‘Moonlight’ and Other Sonatas, Op. 27 and Op. 31            Beethoven: Pastoral Symphony            Beethoven: Symphony No. 9            Beethoven: Violin Concerto          Berlioz: Roméo et Juliette            Brahms: Clarinet Quintet         Brahms: A German Requiem              Brahms: Symphony No. 1           Britten: War Requiem           Chopin: The Piano Concertos         Debussy: La mer             Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)            Dvorák: Cello Concerto         ˇ Elgar: ‘Enigma’ Variations            Gershwin: Rhapsody in Blue          Haydn: The ‘Paris’ Symphonies               Haydn: String Quartets, Op. 50 .             Holst: The Planets              Ives: Concord Sonata            Liszt: Sonata in B Minor              Mendelssohn: The Hebrides and Other Overtures  .       Messiaen: Quatuor pour la fin du Temps             Monteverdi: Vespers (1610)            Mozart: Clarinet Concerto         Mozart: The ‘Haydn’ Quartets          Mozart: The ‘Jupiter’ Symphony       .       Mozart: Piano Concertos Nos. 20 and 21        Nielsen: Symphony No. 5          Sibelius: Symphony No. 5             Strauss: Also sprach Zarathustra               Tchaikovsky: Symphony No. 6 (‘Pathétique’)            The Beatles: Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band          Verdi: Requiem        Vivaldi: The Four Seasons and Other Concertos, Op. 8        

Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) Peter Holman .

USA 477 Williamstown Road. New York.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. Port Melbourne. VIC 3207. Australia http://www.PUBLISHED BY CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS (VIRTUAL PUBLISHING) FOR AND ON BEHALF OF THE PRESS SYNDICATE OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE The Pitt Building.com Edition) . Cambridge CB2 IRP 40 West 20th Street. NY 10011-4211. Trumpington Street.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 .

Nicholas Gryffith his Galiard’ ‘Mistresse Nichols Almand’ ‘M. Henry Noel his Galiard’ ‘Sir John Souch his Galiard’ ‘M.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. and Almands’ The ordering of the collection ‘Semper Dowland semper Dolens’ ‘Sir Henry Umptons Funerall’ ‘M. Galiards. Giles Hobies his Galiard’ ‘M. Thomas Collier his Galiard with 2 Trebles’ ‘M. Buctons Galiard’ ‘The King of Denmarks Galiard’ ‘M. George Whitehead his Almand’ 6 Reception Revival Notes Select bibliography Index viii . John Langtons Pavan’ ‘The Earle of Essex Galiard’ ‘Captaine Digorie Piper his Galiard’ ‘M.

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

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

School of Music Library Washington.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. Royal Academy of Music London. Bayerische Staatsbibliothek Great Britain Cambridge. Euing Music Library London. Yale University. Fitzwilliam Museum Cambridge. Murhardsche Bibliothek der Stadt und Landesbibliothek Munich. University Library Glasgow. Musiksammlung Germany Kassel. Folger Shakespeare Libraries D-Kl D-Mbs GB-Cfm GB-Cu GB-Ge GB-Lam GB-Lbl US-NH US-Ws xi . Reference Division United States of America New Haven. British Library.

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

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

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

Paul O’Dette. Galiards. Alison Crum. Robin Leaver. and whether the collection as a whole has any coherence. I am grateful to Tim Carter. Ian Harwood. considering the significance of the dedications to Dowland’s friends and patrons. Rudolf Rasch. and Clifford Bartlett. Julian Rushton. Chapter 6 is a brief survey of Dowland’s influence on succeeding generations. 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. 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. and the process of revival in modern times. Matthew Spring and Peter Van Heyghen for reading drafts in whole or part. A book of this sort is inevitably heavily indebted to the work of others. Tim Crawford. 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. I must thank my daughter Sally for preparing the index. Lionel Pike. improving it greatly with their detailed criticism. Charles Foster.Preface difficult questions. David Pinto. Chapter 5 deals with the ‘divers other Pavans. Peter Berg. Wilson for helping me in various ways. xvi . My primary debt is to Robert Spencer. and scholars have mostly avoided trying to answer them. Richard Rastall. and Almands’. Also. Judy Tarling and Christopher R.

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 other tongues that may serve for musicke either in Church or chamber. Frenche.1 The document English music publishing Music publishing came late to England. and the other in 1575 for twenty-one years to Thomas Tallis and William Byrd for polyphonic music. 1 . It is not entirely clear why England lagged so far behind the Continent. or otherwise to be either plaid or soonge’. assigned it to the printer Thomas East. The latter covered ‘set songe or songes in partes. starting with Musica transalpina and Byrd’s Psalms. Italian.1 While substantial trades developed in Venice. either in English. Sonets and Songs. or any bookes or quieres of such ruled paper imprinted’. It was East who began the large-scale publication of polyphonic music. now sole holder. The Byrd–East monopoly expired in 1596. Latin. Nuremberg and Antwerp in the first half of the sixteenth century. when Byrd. though Queen Elizabeth tried to improve matters by granting two monopolies.2 Tallis and Byrd used their monopoly to produce Cantiones quae ab argumento sacrae vocantur (1575). the first English printed collection of songs and solo music for lute. orpharion and bandora. William Barley immediately produced A New Book of Tabliture. one in 1559 to John Day for psalm books. virtually no music was published in London until the 1570s. though it did not sell well and they appealed to Elizabeth in June 1577 for support. which provided openings for others. claiming they were out of pocket to the tune of at least 200 marks. apart from liturgical books with plainsong and collections of metrical psalms. among other things. printed by Thomas Vautrollier. Only two sets of part-books were issued before 1588. Paris. while Peter Short started in 1597 with.

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

and was allowed extended periods of leave in England.6 The publication of Lachrimae It is often thought that Dowland made the 1603–4 journey to England specifically to publish Lachrimae. He protested his innocence to Cecil.The document on 10 November 1595* (see Chapter 4). Thomas Cutting. winter and spring of 1601–2. in view of the fact that he has travelled to England on his own business and remained there a long while. the day he wrote out a lute piece for a foreign visitor. and 10 July 1604*. Indeed. his successor. claiming that he quickly realised the seriousness of his position and returned to Germany. when he took the opportunity to publish The First Booke. and was made to recruit musicians and purchase instruments. 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. or give satisfaction to His Royal Majesty therefore in other ways. Dowland was evidently highly valued by Christian IV. he shall do future service therefore. though the English authorities probably continued to regard him with suspicion. He also received occasional gifts from the king. where he was drawn into a group of English Catholics involved in plotting against Queen Elizabeth. He certainly failed a second time to obtain an English court post during a visit in 1597. 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. longer than His Royal Majesty had granted him leave of absence. The first visit occurred over the autumn. He must have still been in London on 9 May 1604. he got as far as Florence. His salary of 500 Daler (more than £200 in contemporary English money) made him one of the highest paid court servants. Hans von Bodeck of Elbing (now Elblag in Poland). he probably began to make preparations for 3 . 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. when he received his salary up to 18 August*. Dowland’s second journey from Denmark to England occurred sometime between 15 July 1603*. only received 300 Daler a year.

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

as he had done with his two previous collections. Dowland remarked in the preface to his Third and Last Booke of Songs or Aires (1603) that it had been ‘fetcht far from home. Windet had started printing psalm books in 1592 using John Day’s old music type. dwelling at the Signe of the Crosse Keyes at Powles Wharfe’. Thomas Ford. it was modelled on the one Vautrollier seems to have obtained from Pierre Haultin in La Rochelle. by Richard Alison. then Dowland could hardly have come to England in 1603 to see Lachrimae through the press. and brought even through the most perilous seas’. and ‘solde at the Authors house in Fetter-lane neare Fleet-streete’. Also.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.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.The document If so. which may have originated in Antwerp. Windet and Adams had both taken advantage of the hiatus in the music monopoly to become involved in publishing music. and he would have had to send the manuscript to London by post. probably. 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. when he was certainly in Denmark. and was apparently borrowed by Windet from Barley. Barley 5 . The dedication of The Second Booke of Songs or Ayres to Lucy. Michael East. Windet began to use a new fount when he turned to secular music. and we know from a complicated series of lawsuits (discussed below) that the publisher purchased the collection from Dowland’s wife in London. 1600’*. other sources. Countess of Bedford is signed ‘From Helsingnoure in Denmarke the first of June.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). Tobias Hume and Robert Jones. though Windet mixed in pieces from the Day fount and. John Coprario. it was registered at Stationers’ Hall on 21 February 1603. Had he returned to Denmark according to plan it is unlikely he would have had time to finish it before his departure. John Bartlet.

the entry in the Stationers’ Register 6 . though it does not appear in the catalogue of Rimbault’s library. 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. Thus Eastland stood to make as much as £225 against expenses he estimated at £100. 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 Robert Dowland’s anthologies Varietie of LuteLessons (1610) and A Musicall Banquet (1610). half the reward that could be expected from the queen for the dedication. They also appear in the autograph sections of the Dowland Lutebook in Washington and the Board Manuscript. but both dates were apparently added relatively recently and have no authority.14 Thomas Adams had been a bookseller and publisher at the White Lion in St Paul’s Churchyard from 1591. and he thought he could make more money that way. as well as collections by John Danyel and Thomas Ravenscroft. but East described that sum as ‘such apparent an untruth’. but changed his mind. Lachrimae was published without a date. 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. and submitted a more detailed and convincing estimate of only £47 12s.13 William Chappell claimed in 1844 that Edward Rimbault was ‘in possession of a portion of the original manuscript’. No wonder Dowland was tempted to publish Lachrimae himself. but started publishing music in 1603 taking advantage of the hiatus in the music monopoly. It reveals that Dowland’s wife received £20 ‘for the manuscript and half the dedication’ – that is. sold in 1877. and does not seem to survive. which presumably reflects Dowland’s own preference. It seems that Dowland had also planned to use Adams to publish Lachrimae.12 Lachrimae differs from the other examples of the Barley–Windet tablature in its extensive use of beamed rhythm flags.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) used it again in Thomas Robinson’s New Citharen Lessons (1609).16 1605 was accepted by earlier scholars. perhaps because his enforced stay in England gave him the time to organise its sale himself.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. and went on to issue Dowland’s translation of Andreas Ornithoparcus his Micrologus (1609).

With the litigation surrounding The Second Booke fresh in his mind. and the other three vocal parts grouped around the three sides of the right-hand page. But The First Booke is a folio intended to be placed flat on a small table. Each piece is laid out on a single opening. claiming an interest in the monopoly as Morley’s former partner. to be read by the performers grouped around it. He was perhaps wise to be cautious. for in May 1606 and October 1609 William Barley won court cases against East and Adams. and without having to change the title-page. To answer the question we must return to the tangled and uncertain situation in the music publishing trade. it was easy to include a wide variety of music. while Dowland developed a type of part-song for the format that could be used in many different ways. The table layout The normal way of publishing polyphonic vocal or instrumental music was in sets of quarto part-books. Since each opening could be laid out differently. with each book containing all the parts in the collection for a particular instrument or voice range. including solo songs. with the Cantus and the lute tablature underlaid on the left-hand page. madrigals. masque music and even anthems and motets. when he would return. 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. 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. All the songs in 7 .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. For a similar reason.The document makes it clear it appeared in the spring of 1604. part-songs. 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. 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. One of the attractions of the table layout was its flexibility.

with the parts for each piece 8 . 1592). they can be sung as part-songs with or without the lute. with parts laid around all four sides of the book. with two of the parts upside-down at the top of the page.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. Of course. or with viols replacing or doubling some or all of the voices. Jacques Moderne printed four-part pieces in Le parangnon des chansons (Lyons.18 The table layout was not entirely Dowland’s invention. while the lute duets in Pierre Phalèse’s Hortus musarum and Luculentum theatrum musicum (Louvain. 1552. MS 31390.19 Similar formats had already been used in continental publications. has the parts of each piece spread around the four sides of each opening. Alternatively. 1568) are arranged so that the players sit facing each other. in which all the parts of a polyphonic vocal piece are spread around a single opening but face the same direction.22 Dowland’s innovation was to apply the full table layout of Add. the table layout is related to the choirbook format. the Prague-based wind player Dowland met at Kassel in 1594. using some or all of the lower parts on the right-hand page. and the Canzonette a tre voci (Venice. such as Emanuel Adriaenssen’s Pratum musicum and Novum pratum musicum (Antwerp.21 A similar format is used for the two fantasias for cittern and/or three single-line instruments in Holborne’s Cittharn Schoole. 1584. the book is placed on a lectern or music desk rather than flat on a table. in Florilegium by Adrian Denss (Cologne. It was used in some continental vocal collections with tablature parts. to a printed collection and to flexible combinations of voices and lute. It was an elegant solution to the problem of printing music with a tablature part as well as staff notation. 1538–43) on a single opening. 1596) by Alessandro Orologio. its competitor. MS 4900. It is also a folio book. MS 31390. 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. inspired no imitations. Lachrimae is modelled on The First Booke and other lute-song collections in table layout. GB-Lbl. the lutenist sits opposite the singers. Add. Add. GB-Lbl. 1594). in an Elizabethan lute song manuscript. Morley’s Canzonets.20 Similarly. the performers sit facing one another or at right angles. a large manuscript dated 1578 of ‘In Nomines & other solfainge Songes’ for ‘voyces or Instrumentes’.

they show signs of having been folded. Tenor (right top. but Warwick Edwards has argued. MS 31390. 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. the lute tablature (right middle. upside down). 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. Another option for performers of Lachrimae.27 9 . 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 largest instruments. 1. upside down). who. the same arguments apply to Add. using the phrase ‘solfainge Songes’ in its title as evidence. for he placed the parts for the bass and lute. The problem was avoided in Morley’s First Booke of Consort Lessons (1599. Quintus (left top. so that they had the most room.25 Of course. and this is perhaps why two were included in the collection of English music prints purchased by a German nobleman in London in 1630. Dowland was aware that space round the table would be limited. opposite the Bassus). But even so. 2/1611) and Philip Rosseter’s Lessons for Consort (1609) by printing the lute part in folio and the others in quarto. like singers. was to buy more than one copy. if they withdraw to a comfortable distance the music is too small to read. and Altus (right bottom) (see Fig.24 But publishing consort music in table layout created its own problems. particularly for didactic purposes in choir schools. on the sides of the opening facing in. and so there was a danger that the lute part would get separated from the others.1). or would have to be folded across the middle to fit on a shelf with them. of course. Dowland presumably chose the table layout for Lachrimae because it had been so successful in The First Booke.26 It is also possible that some of its pieces were intended for wind players. Bassus (left middle.The document distributed around the sides of a single opening in the following order: Cantus (left bottom). that the Elizabethan instrumental ensemble repertory was used for singing as much as playing.23 But this created another problem: the sets did not have a consistent format. facing outwards). would have had less trouble than string players gathering around a single book. until recently in the library of Schlobitten Castle. significantly.

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

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

We do not know how well it sold. 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. and its music had little influence on English composers. Almains (1599). and it was never reprinted. 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.28 The Prussian nobleman’s purchase shows that there was still unsold stock in 1630.29 But no one repeated the experiment of printing consort music in table layout. But common sense was not Dowland’s strong point: as his friend Henry Peacham put it in The Compleat Gentleman (1622). 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. for it might have been construed as a criticism of his employer. quem non Fortuna beavit’ (‘whom Fortune has not blessed. Galliards. he either rages or weeps’) on the title-page. but he never acted as his own publisher again. Lachrimae does not seem to have been very successful.30 12 . after Morley’s Consort Lessons and Anthony Holborne’s Pavans. Lachrimae was only the third. or how much money Dowland made out of it. aut Lachrimat. despite his fame and the rarity of English publications of consort music. he ‘slipt many opportunities in advancing his fortunes’.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) All in all.

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

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

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

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

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

According to the principle of allocating instruments just explained. and a bass 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 tenor viols and a bass viol. seems to derive from an implausible statement in Lodovico Zacconi’s Prattica di musica (Venice. or a treble viol. The modern notion of a fourth size of violin. treble. then the extra part (or Quintus) was played on a third alto or tenor. such as the treble viol and the violin.15 Praetorius gave it as a bass tuning. four contratenors. Towards the end of the sixteenth century a new scoring developed in consort music. the lowest note of the viola and many tenor wind instruments. slung across the chest and supported by a strap. The two-soprano scoring seems to have come into German dance music from Italian madrigals and balletti. only play soprano parts. as it generally was towards the end of the sixteenth century. two inner parts and bass was played with a single violin. three tenors and bass. two violas and bass violin. and four of a fifth part’. three violas and bass violin – or on viols. or two treble viols. When Dowland used the two-soprano scoring in ‘Collier’ he was conforming to German or Anglo-German. 1623). exemplified in Lachrimae by ‘M. 1592). the three inner parts were played by violas ‘of different sizes. which allocates the tuning F–c–g–d to the viola.17 This exemplifies a basic principle of sixteenth-century instrumentation that is often ignored today: instruments are allocated according to function. played in five parts with ‘six trebles. the Vingt-quatre violons.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) single soprano. six basses. so soprano instruments. two violas. pieces using this scoring require two violins. not a second soprano or bass. Thomas Collier his Galiard with 2 Trebles’. Thus Mersenne wrote that the French court violin band. turning it into a Cantus Secundus that continually crosses and exchanges material with the Cantus. practice. rather than English. even though they are [tuned] in unison’. the so-called ‘tenor violin’. two tenors and bass. four altos. It should have been violin. copied by Daniel Hitzler in Extract aus der neuen Musica oder Singkunst (Nuremberg. viola and two cellos. as well as from 18 . The Quintus was raised an octave from its normal tenor range.16 When a third inner part was added to the texture. and it was probably used on small bass violins made to be played standing or walking along. bass instruments only play bass parts. Thus Peter Warlock was wide of the mark when he scored his edition of Lachrimae for two violins.

‘Unton’ and ‘Souch’. grave with light’. are generally low pitched and use the soprano (c1) clef for the Cantus part. particularly in the upper parts. and the slightly later 4° MS mus.The instruments Italianate vocal music by German composers. Why is this so? An obvious possibility is that one group was written in Denmark for performers at Christian IV’s court. ‘Dolens’. apparently copied in Oxford by William Wigthorpe around 1615. MSS 17786–91.and six-part Intradae. The first. Add. wherein I have mixed new songs with olde. 1–5. sixpart intradas appear side-by-side with five-part German songs in a dance-like idiom derived from Gastoldi. with some pieces only going down to g . 1614. 1617 and 1621 prints by Brade. I believe this explains an odd feature of the writing: the pieces can be divided by the range of their parts into two groups. 1–5. 4° MS mus. while the other was completed in England specifically for the publication. the first examples are probably in GB-Lbl. If so. consisting of the seven ‘Lachrimae’ pavans. which in several cases goes down to b or c . 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. 72. 1601). Dowland implies as much by describing Lachrimae in the preface as ‘a long and troublesome worke. while the Cantus is in the treble (g2) clef. for instance. containing a number of pavans by the Landgrave of Hesse. and never goes below d . both use the two-soprano scoring. starting with D-Kl. Alessandro Orologio used the twosoprano scoring throughout his five. In Hans Leo Hassler’s Lustgarten neuer teutscher Gesäng (Nuremberg. a manuscript containing fifty-three five-part pavans apparently copied by an Englishman in Kassel around 1600. a collection dedicated to Christian IV. 125.19 The scoring is also found in many AngloGerman sources.18 More relevant to Dowland. and the 1609. The others lie rather higher.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. the 1610 and 1617 prints by Simpson. for several reasons. then the high-pitched pieces are likely to be the ones written in Denmark.20 Later examples include pieces in the 1607 and 1609 Füllsack and Hildebrand anthologies. They include most of the pieces known to have been written earlier as songs or lute solos. such 19 .

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

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

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

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

36 Similarly. 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. Indeed. even in solo sonatas and trio sonatas.35 Furthermore. as in the part-song versions of Dowland’s lute songs or the high-pitched pieces in Lachrimae. Dowland took the first three steps by restricting the choice of instrument to strings. The written-out lute parts in ensemble music of all types in the sixteenth and early seventeenth centuries normally double the parts they accompany.34 The notion that continuo players should avoid the melodic lines they accompany seems to have developed at a much later period. 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. producing something not unlike the lute parts of mixed consorts. 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. though the large size of the instrument would have made the stretches difficult. Nevertheless. by adding an accompaniment to the full-voiced five-part texture. 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. and by introducing an element of dialogue in one piece by turning the 24 . 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. with their written-out divisions. 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. then. But that is to be expected. If they do not always double the top parts. 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. a bass lute in D could theoretically have been used in performances with a low-pitched viol consort a fourth lower. It is easy to imagine that Dowland and other professional lutenists at the time would have embellished them on the repeats of the strains.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) What. except for the rhythmic patterns and ornamental flourishes that fill in the final bars of sections.

and to begin to write specifically and idiomatically for violins. 25 .The instruments Quintus into a second soprano. 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.

he was 26 . now increasingly intended for the new string consorts rather than the old loud wind ensembles. 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. But dance music continued to be played from memory: pictures show groups performing without music for at least another century. The music. The pavan The most important dances in the new repertory were those that make up most of Lachrimae. and spread rapidly to northern Europe. for the inner parts no longer had readily defined or discrete functions. Since the length of each cantus firmus varied. Henry VIII sat it out because.3 The dance types The main courtly dances of the fifteenth century. a loud wind ensemble in which stereotyped counterpoint was improvised around a slow-moving cantus firmus played by the tenor shawm or bombard. five or six parts using simple block chords. collectively called basse danse or bassadanza. The new dances that replaced it shortly after 1500 were much simpler. John Ward has suggested. 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. and could not easily have been improvised without creating glaring consecutives. They had standard choreographies matched by simple tunes made up of short repeated sections in patterns such as AABB or AABBCC. and had to be set down on paper. It seems to have arrived in England in the 1520s. were typically accompanied by the alta capella. was usually in four. each basse danse had its own choreography. the pavan and the galliard.

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

and by grouping crotchets 3 3 instead of 2 2 2. as well as a number of early sixteenth-century Italian dances now in Munich. adding that the strains of ‘the usual Alman containeth the time of eight [semibreves]. seems to have originated in Germany. minims and semibreves. and the basic pattern consisted of three steps and a hop. According to Arbeau. In fact. and most commonly in short notes’. and were writing them in all shapes and sizes. A fairly constant feature. alman or almain (allemande in French).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. In France and The Netherlands. at the levels of crotchets. with catchy tunes supported by simple diatonic harmonies. possibly in Nuremberg around 1540. by con28 . and every strain is made by [groups of] four [semibreves]’. it was danced by a line of couples. hence its name. The tune is still in the tenor in the few surviving consort examples of the Hoftanz (a late German type of basse danse). the Passamezzo moderno and the Romanesca. 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. such as the Passamezzo antico. was an attractive rhythmic instability created by regrouping the six minims from the normal 3 3 to the 2 2 2 hemiola pattern. the basic pulse is usually in crotchets rather than minims. by the time Morley wrote those words English composers had largely stopped deriving galliards from pavans. arrangement and performance There were two main ways of writing sixteenth-century dance music. however. like the pavan. The almand The third type of dance in Lachrimae. sometimes three. 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’.4 As Morley put it. Elizabethan almands tend to be jolly four-square pieces. Morley wrote that ‘It is made of strains. the almand.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) minims must you put in the strain of your Galliard’. so that three distinct triple patterns can sometimes be heard. sometimes two. Composition.

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

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. Some sources with tablature parts. makes it difficult for the less experienced player to improvise ornamentation. allemandes. for much of their training consisted of learning how to improvise florid ornamentation. and to convert existing four-part pieces into five by adding a specially written Quintus part. such as the collection of lute trios by Giovanni Pacolini or Pacoloni published in 1564. including branles. a much higher proportion than in equivalent continental collections. galliards and basse danses. One feature is the emphasis on five-part writing: the compilers apparently made an effort to collect five-part dances. or Matthew Holmes’s mixed consort books in GB-Cu. five-part writing remained the norm for dance music throughout Elizabeth’s reign. The most distinctive feature of Elizabethan dance music is the prominence given to pavans or pavan-galliard pairs. By contrast. have elaborate written-out divisions that give a vivid impression of how professional groups would have elaborated dance music in performance.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) fingers rather than what notes to play. two consist entirely of branles while the third contains only four pavans in a varied selection of forty-five dances. four-part writing remained the standard in Italy and much of northern Europe until the late sixteenth century. Royal Appendix MS 58 are related to pieces in contemporary continental publications. for instance.13 If anything.12 However. Nearly a third of the fiftyodd dances in the Arundel part-books are pavans. Of the three books of danseries published by Jean d’Estrée in Paris in 1559. Also.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. professionals had no need for written-out ornamentation. the dances in the Arundel part-books show that a distinctively English repertory was beginning to emerge around 1560. So far as we can tell from the rather scattered and fragmentary sources. the proportion of pavans increases 30 .10 Thus the difference between the two types is greater on the page than it would have been in performance.

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

1570). Most English pavans written around 1600 seem about as far removed from the dance floor as the examples by Fauré and Ravel. Early Elizabethan pavans sometimes have strains of four breves. it was more or less obsolete there by 1600.21 It has a brief triple-time section in the last strain. 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. and the genre increased steadily in complexity and musical interest during Elizabeth’s reign. The pavan’s galliard is ascribed to ‘Innocents’ – presumably the Innocent of Cremona who joined the English court violin consort in 1550. 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.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) manuals are anything to go by. see Chapter 4) is the bestknown example. when the chanson was published in London.19 Pavans with strains of uneven numbers of breves become much more common in later Elizabethan sources.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 . 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. or eight-breve strains divided into two four-breve phrases with matching openings leading to contrasted cadences. Morley’s ‘Sacred End Pavan’ (so called because it ends with an idea used in several anthems. and this not just because of their irregular strains. 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 presence of a strain of five breves in a pavan in the Arundel part-books suggests it was not written for dancing. it was probably written soon after 1570.18 But this does not necessarily mean that the English continued to dance the pavan long after other nations. Since Morley advised composers to keep to strains of even numbers of breves so that their pavans could be danced to. Almains have them. and was probably the model for a number of pavans with triple-time passages in the Anglo-German repertory. as in the first strain of a keyboard pavan by ‘Mr Marchant’. as do twenty-six of the fifty-three pavans in Kassel MS 125. Galliards. There is one with a five-breve strain in the Dublin Virginal Book (c.

Philips probably got the idea from Nicholas Strogers’s fine ‘In Nomine Pavan’.24 Later composers such as Philips or Holborne had no trouble writing continuous strains of eight or more breves. 37. 1–5. Almains still cadence on the first beat of the fourth or fifth breve of an eight-breve strain while maintaining melodic or contrapuntal momentum. as in the first strain of a pavan by Augustine Bassano copied by Francis Tregian. 4° MS mus. Sometimes ideas were borrowed from other genres. Galliards. which has an apparently invented plainsong-like cantus firmus in the Cantus accompanied by patterns of three repeated notes. Holborne’s ‘Decrevi’. no.26 Peter Philips also seems to have started a fashion for chromatic passages with his ‘Dolorosa Pavan’ of 1593. the third of no. Almains. 51. the cantus firmus) from a popular In Nomine by Robert Parsons. and composers began to develop special effects or ‘topics’ in their third strains. as in Morley’s ‘Sacred End Pavan’. though some of the simpler (and earlier?) ones in Pavans. though a popular piece by Thomas Tomkins proved even more influential. One of the most influential pieces was Peter Philips’s 1580 Pavan. 125. so called because its third strain borrows a three-note accompaniment pattern (but not. Pavans. ‘Posthuma’. all three of no. and a number of pieces in the Anglo-German repertory. Morley explained the modes in some detail in the annotations to the third part of 33 . oddly. the first of no. Philips’s 1580 Pavan influenced many later works. 35. 15.25 In turn. and the first and third of no. but more often the models were other pavans. 3.27 ‘Lachrimae’ was at the centre of this tradition. good examples are the first strain of no. so that a web of subtle connections developed. and we shall see in Chapter 4 how Dowland developed it to an unprecedented degree in the ‘passionate pavans’.The dance types strain that divides into two four-breve contrasted phrases. 47. including four in D-Kl. Dowland used the device in all three strains of ‘Lachrimae’. such as ‘Southerne’s Pavan’ by Morley. In the 1580s and 90s English pavans became increasingly complex and contrapuntal. Tonality There has been a recent tendency to try to explain the tonality of all types of Renaissance music in terms of modal theory. 7. Galliards. the second of no. but it is not clear that the composers of Elizabethan dance music thought in those terms.

28 Similarly. . Tone 1 (D minor) normally ranges between B flat and G sharp. and Tones 2 and 6 have a B flat key signature. but gave the impression in the main text that they were obsolete. and the tone is defined as much by the accidentals used as by the ‘final’ or concluding note. 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).30 The first four are effectively minor keys. 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. Tone 3 (A minor) between B flat and G sharp. or Tone .’ Campion was much more specific. G minor (2). . Tone 2 (G minor) between E flat and C sharp. for it must proceed only of the judgement of the composer’. Morley was at a loss when he tried to explain modulation. likewise if you begin your song in D sol re you may end in A re and come again to D sol re. His Philomathes asks whether there is a ‘general rule to be given for an instruction for keeping of the key’. while the others are major keys. stepping outside the ambitus or range of the mode. D major (7) and G major (8). though he stated that ‘the Key. 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. and so on. which only became common in English consort music in the 1620s and 30s. 1547) had been reduced to eight.29 A ‘Table of Tones’. a concept foreign to the modal system. The system of authentic and plagal modes has been abandoned. but the Master replies ‘No.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) A Plaine and Easie Introduction. 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. Composers increasingly exploited the full range of stringed instruments. all signifie the same thing’. D minor (1). or Moode. shows that the twelve church modes as codified by Glareanus in his Dodecachordon (Basle. A minor (3) and E minor (4). etc. F major (6). and described possible modulations to (in modern terms) the dominant and the relative major of 34 . set down around 1620 in a manuscript of John Bull’s keyboard music in Vienna. 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’. Elizabethan dance music inhabits the same tonal landscape. C major (5).

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

France. Denmark.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. division viol. f. Scotland. mixed consort.1 The sources suggest that the earliest ‘Lachrimae’ was for solo lute. Dd. as well as a number of song versions. Sweden and Italy. Their serene beauty speaks for itself.2 By contrast. 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. lute trio with two viols.11.and five-part viols or violins. lute duet. one was printed by William Barley in his New Booke of Tabliture (1596). and was originally intended for a six-course lute – which suggests it is a relatively early work. and four. keyboard. lyra viol. ‘Flow my teares’. 2. the earliest source of the famous lute-song setting. cittern. in settings for lute solo. violin. and a number of others come from manuscripts that apparently date from before 1604. recorder. bandora. One of the earliest was copied by Matthew Holmes into GB-Cu. The Netherlands. the ‘Old Tears’. Austria. 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’. yet they also raise many questions. seems to be The Second 36 . 81. in the early 1590s. it was not new when Lachrimae appeared. Of the eighteen copies in English lute books. As its title indicates. Germany.

The settings of ‘Lachrimae’ divide by key into three groups. ‘Pavana a 5 voc.5 To complicate things further. 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. 1600) by the Leipzig lutenist Johann Rude. 75v–77. All this goes to show that we are wrong to look for a ‘definitive’ or ‘original’ version of ‘Lachrimae’. no. 42. or just changing fashion. and its title could be taken to mean that it is an arrangement from a five-part consort setting in that key. 91 in Flores musicae ii (Heidelberg. She suggested that A minor.11. ff. is in G minor. published in 1600. The song is almost certainly an adaptation of the pavan rather than the other way round. Dulandi Angli’. Matthew Holmes copied a fine but little-known A minor setting into Dd. no. and it is a good key for the lute. MS Hirsch M.2. 1595). 37 .4 But the situation is not that simple. the earliest datable continental lute setting. This explains why popular pieces often circulated in a number of variant versions. f. since it is the key of the copy in Dd. intended recipients.The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’ Booke of Songs or Ayres.3 Dowland seems to have arranged a number of his songs from instrumental dances (see Chapter 5). a souvenir of one of Dowland’s visits to the town in the 1590s.11. to suit particular circumstances. G minor. much as jazz musicians do today. Moreover. 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. 1–5. and in general the type of lute song he popularised had its roots in the English broadside ballad. while there is another A minor version without divisions in GB-Lbl. as we might do for a piece by Bach or Chopin. was subsequently chosen for the benefit of the singers in ‘Flow my teares’ and the stringed instruments in ‘Antiquae’. a less idiomatic lute key. A minor and D minor. Diana Poulton argued that G minor was Dowland’s original choice. I have argued that the five-part A minor setting in Kassel 4° MS mus. f. 11v (c. and most of those in lute sources. is a pre-publication version of ‘Antiquae’.2. Each time they wrote them down they doubtless would have felt free to vary the details. for Dowland headed it ‘Lacrime’ as if it was a version of a well-known piece. Dowland and his contemporaries would have played their own pieces in a semi-improvised manner from a memorised ‘gist’. 125.1353. 81. and had connections with the Italian villanella and the French voix de ville – genres that involved adding words to existing popular tunes.

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

the phrygian mode is made up of two such tetrachords. 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. indeed. and is then taken up with a contrapuntal point that features the expressive four-note figure E–B–C–B.The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’ Ex. 4.7 The tone–tone–semitone pattern of the falling tetrachord was exploited in the Renaissance for its affective power. but one can also hear the influence of Tone 4. The pavan is formally in Tone 3. When A–G–F–E occurs in the Bassus. making it similar to the hypoaeolian tenth mode as described by Glareanus and Zarlino. 1–8 (lute part omitted) a b a 5 2 The tetrachord also colours the tonality of ‘Lachrimae’. 20.1 ‘Antiquae’. Note also how Dowland achieves 39 . as it does repeatedly in the first and third strains. 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. E–D–C–B and A–G–F–E. equivalent to A minor. As often happens in English pavans. bb. effectively the phrygian mode on E. it makes the characteristic phrygian cadence of the Baroque period.

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

even printing a rather inconsequential letter from him. mio sole’ from Marenzio’s third book of six-part madrigals (Venice. and the last note is a G natural rather than G sharp. la .The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’ Ex. bb. and it has been suggested that the original Italian text was the inspiration for the text of Dowland’s song ‘Now. the five-part ‘Rivi. 1585). 1–4.bo-ra - la .ra vi La . 4. mio sole’.3). la bo .bo - ra - - vi La - bo-ra. Another madrigal by Marenzio. though it is in the Altus rather than the Cantus. fontane.14 We should not be surprised that Dowland looked to Marenzio for inspiration. la . for it was reprinted as ‘Now I must part’ in Musica transalpina (1588).bo-ra vi. e fiumi’ from the anthology Le gioie musicali (Venice.bo.ra -vi.bo-ra - vi Dowland would certainly have known the other work. Lassus. la . ‘Laboravi in gemitu meo’. La .ra-vi.vi. 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.ra-vi. ‘Parto da voi.ra - vi vi La - bo-ra. la - bo .bo. contains the complete tear motif using the same pitches and virtually the same rhythms.vi. ‘not thinking it any disgrace to be proud of the judgement of so excellent a man’.15 ‘Parto da voi.16 Dowland used this contrapuntal version of the motif in the third strain 41 . O now I needs must part’ from The First Booke. from ‘Domine ne in furore tuo’ La .vi. Furthermore. 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’. dispietata morte’. la bo-ra . also in Tone 3. he based part of his song ‘Would my conceit that first enforced my woe’ from The First Booke on Marenzio’s ‘Ahi.bo. He travelled to Italy in 1595 to study with the Italian and extolled his virtues in The First Booke. 1589).2 O. 4.

4. 2. fontane. par to - da to da voi. Marenzio.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) Ex. 1–3 Ri vi. b. the 42 . Par - to - da voi. Of course. though at the very least they suggest that Dowland was immersed in the music of his great continental contemporaries. fon . Marenzio. Par - - to da Par voi.ta - - ne. Ri - - - - - - vi. voi.ta - - - of ‘Tristes’ and the opening of ‘Amantis’. 4. Par to da voi. e fiumi’. Ex. we have no means of knowing how conscious any of these borrowings were. ‘Parto da voi.3 L. so far as we know. 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.4). fon . fon - - ta - Ri - - - - vi. bb. similar to (b) in ‘Antiquae’ (see Ex. Ri - - - - - vi. 1–3 Par to da voi. bb. mio sole’.ta ne. 4. fon . Marenzio. ‘Rivi.4 L. Note also the falling quavers in the Tenor. Dowland was doubtless caught up by the enthusiasm for the Italian madrigal in Elizabethan England.

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

at least among lutenist composers. Counterpoint was all-pervasive in polyphonic vocal music. the repetition of figures in an ascending sequence.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. But Dowland ensures the continuity necessary in a pavan partly by extending (c) over the internal cadence on the first beat at b. which are converted into rising thirds in (d) and decorated in (e) (see Ex.5).20 These rhetorical figures have recently been studied by writers concerned with the performance of English lute songs. diminish. is variously called gradatio. in force of signifycation’. others were formulated for literary composition. and the constant repetition of figures was the musical equivalent of anaphora. 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. The second and third strains of ‘Antiquae’ illustrate the point. but that he may add. As Peacham recognised. imitative. The basic rhetorical device exemplified by (d) is auxesis. since the technique of imitation involved matching an appropriate musical figure to each phrase of a text. The second strain of ‘Antiquae’ contains three imitative points. Its musical equivalent. or the sententious figures of repetition in poetry.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 can in some cases be extended to musical composition – and to music that does not depend on words. climax or anabasis. 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 Prosopopoeas? with infinite other of the same nature’. 4. corresponding to the phrases ‘since pittie is fled’ (c). imitative counterpoint was one of the most important rhetorical devices available to the composer.21 While some apply directly to speaking and (by extension) singing. and partly by relating the three ideas to each other: (c) is mostly concerned with falling thirds. but tightly organised. ‘rhetorical’ counterpoint was relatively rare in dance music before Dowland. and groanes’ (d) and ‘my wearie dayes’ (e) in the third verse of ‘Flow my teares’. making the latter word always exceede the former. and alter at his pleasure’. ‘and teares. 12. and sighes.

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

happie they that in hell’.6 ‘Antiquae’. sorrow.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) Ex. since it draws attention to the word ‘happy’ to the detriment of the meaning of the phrase as a whole. 20. 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. or any such lyke. feare. O wicked impudency. the use of pungent language to reprehend the hearers for some fault. though ‘Antiquae Novae’. bb. ‘Tristes’. It is a good example of ecphonesis or exclamatio. 46 . as (f ) does (see Ex.26 Dowland and his contemporaries usually set expletives of this sort to figures that begin with a syncopated long note followed by shorter notes. & outcry to expresse the passions of our minde. O joy imcomparable. according to the anonymous author of Rhetorica ad Herennium. after this manner. ‘Coactae’. ‘Gementes’. O rare and singuler bewty.25 The other is the contrapuntal point (f ) that takes up its second half. O cursed misery. which is not the best rhetorical match for the music. marveyling. O lamentable estate. 4. we breake out in voyce with an exclamation.6). from b. gladnesse. This is another hint that the words of ‘Flow my teares’ were added to ‘Lachrimae’. Dowland set it to the phrase ‘Happie. 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’. 4.

1) by the fact that they have essentially the same refrain. such as the Seven Last Words of Jesus on the Cross. Morley’s ‘O Jesu meeke’ and Thomas Weelkes’s ‘Give ear. are settings of lines from a section of the book entitled ‘A Handfull of Honiesuckles’. and he would certainly have known William Hunnis’s Seven Sobs of a Sorrowfull Soule for Sinne (1581).29 There is an unexpected if tortuous connection between Hunnis’s Seven Sobs of a Sorrowfull Soule for Sinne and ‘Lachrimae’. O Lord’. and only ‘Antiquae Novae’ is found in any other contemporary source – Thomas Simpson published his own five-part arrangement in 1610. the technique of creating one dance out of another was fundamental to Renaissance dance music: galliards were routinely modelled on pavans.The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’ ‘Amantis’ and ‘Verae’ may have been written especially for Lachrimae: none of them exists in lute settings.28 But there are also obvious parallels with other seven-fold cycles. and Lionel Pike has also suggested that Dowland chose it partly because it combines four and three. the Seven Deadly Sins. commonlie called Pœnitentiall: framed into a forme of familiar praiers. 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. and the Seven Penitential Psalms. the intervals that dominate ‘Lachrimae’. v. and reduced into meeter’. ‘Mercie. set to passages of counterpoint using the same figure (f ) that Dowland used in ‘Lachrimae’ 47 . mercie’ or ‘have mercie now on mee’. Of course. Why seven pavans? The number seven was thought to be numerologically significant. 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 soon after 1600 German composers began to publish suite-like sequences of dances with some related movements. It was enduringly popular: ten reprints are known between 1583 and 1629. a collection of devotional verse including ‘those seven Psalmes of the Princelie Prophet of David. good Lord. Two anthems. the Seven Sorrows of Mary. We have seen that Dowland may have found the tear motif in a passage from Lassus’s setting of the Penitential Psalms.27 It is not always appreciated today how novel the concept of a sequence of seven related pavans was. tordions on basse danses and so on. 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.

and is also the subject of Daniel Farrant’s ‘FourNote’ pavan. in an article concerned with esoteric readings of Dowland’s songs. hence its name. one is more apt to throw up. as John Donne put it: ‘Powre new seas in mine eyes. so that I might / Drowne my world with my weeping earnestly. to say the least. In Elizabethan literature tears were normally expected from women. while it is not clear exactly what the significance of these relationships is. But he did not enlighten his readers further.31 Like ‘Lachrimae’. / Or wash it. Jesus wept for Lazarus. without them we would have been left forever in the dark’. as I shall call it.33 There were biblical precedents: David wept for his son Absalom. Thus.30 This idea appears at the end of Morley’s ‘Sacred End’ pavan. As Marjory E. so it is likely that the pavan had some religious significance for Dowland.36 48 . their tears could be thought of as an emblem of their status as a penitent before God. O God’. based on a different four-note figure. ‘tears’. while Ernst Meyer.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) (see Ex. and in extraordinary anguish. children and old men. ‘Hear me. and.6). if it must be drown’d no more’. or void’. Ben Jonson’s ‘Hymn to God the Father’.34 There is no reason to think that ‘Lachrimae’ is specifically a portrait of female tears. Ferrabosco’s pavan was used as a song. Indeed.35 However. and added: ‘Fortunately his epigrammatic Latin titles provide the key to his intentions in these pavans. it is interesting that Dowland gave his pavan the title ‘Lachrimae’. and his attempt to connect Dowland and his music to occult Neoplatonist philosophy is controversial. they certainly suggest that the ‘Sacred End’ figure. Anthony Rooley wrote that they ‘can be seen as a Hermetic cycle describing the fall and rise of the journeying soul’. has some sort of religious significance. Peter wept over his betrayal of Jesus. 4.32 But in some circumstances it was acceptable for men to weep in a religious situation. which in turn seems to be a pair with Alfonso Ferrabosco II’s ‘Four-Note’ pavan. Diana Poulton and Warwick Edwards avoided any discussion of their meaning. 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’. ‘a person does not weep for minor sorrow. Lange puts it. In this connection. and the cycle the subtitle ‘seaven teares’. and were associated with moderate emotion. of course. as the connections with the Penitential Psalms imply.

37 He suggests that the tears are those of the penitent. taking his cue from the connection between ‘Antiquae’ and the Lassus Penitential Psalm. But his penitent soul wakes to the love of God (‘Amantis’). 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. His woes (‘Gementes’) and grief (‘Tristes’) force him into apostasy (‘Coactae’). nor never heard any mass in englande. 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’). Oxford on 8 July 1588. degree at Christ Church. and the subsequent sins of fallen mankind (‘Antiquae Novae’). 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 is redeemed by divine compassion (‘Verae’). and ‘being but yonge their faire wordes overecht me & I beleved w(i)t(h) them’. a reference to the ‘old yet new’ beauty of God. 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. This is an attractive idea. there do not seem 49 . But he must have subscribed to the Thirty-Nine Articles when he received his B.Mus. wherefor I hav reformed my self to lyve acording to her ma(jes)ties lawes as I was borne under her highnes. David Pinto has proposed an orthodox religious interpretation of the Latin titles. But there are several problems with this exclusively religious interpretation. although Pinto makes a good case for a connection between the Lassus Penitential Psalm and ‘Antiquae’. starting with those caused by original sin (‘Antiquae’).The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’ Recently. not least because it helps to explain the enigmatic oxymoronic title ‘Antiquae Novae’.38 His proposal also has an interesting autobiographical dimension: he implies that the penitent is Dowland himself.39 Furthermore. wh(i)ch I finde is great abuse of the peple for on my soule I understande it not. and that ‘Coactae’ (literally ‘enforced tears’) is concerned with his moment of apostasy from his Catholic faith in the 1595 letter to Cecil. the implication being that the ‘old-new’ tears represent the renewal of original sin in every fallen mortal.

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

none so powerfull. mirth.The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’ neglected.44 gave his pieces titles such as ‘Semper Dowland semper Dolens’. and merry company’. ‘In my judgement’. old age and. jealous and greedy. and melancholy when he wrote that a singing bird was more melancholy than ‘Dowland himself ’ in ‘al his Plaints and Lachrymies’. Burton wrote. taciturn. They were also concerned with melancholy because they were able to analyse the malady in all its complexity. &c. Thus the melancholy man was lanky. . . heavy and sluggish. dull. Dowland certainly cultivated a melancholy public persona. cold and dry. 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. He signed himself ‘Jo: dolandi de Lachrimae’. 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. and because concentrated thinking supposedly dried up the body. so many Parkes and Forests for pleasure. none so apposite as a cup of strong drinke. and was connected with the element earth. philosophers and scholars were thought to be particularly susceptible to melancholy because they led solitary.42 On the personal level. and to suggest cures. Lachrimae. repr. he either rages or weeps’ (the titlepage of Lachrimae). Why the obsession with such an unattractive humour? One reason is simply that melancholy was the fashionable ailment of the age. as well as the physical and psychological conditions that resulted from an excess of it. musicke. obstinate.45 In the emblem book Parthenia sacra ([Rouen]. so the melancholy humour was heavy. so many villages depopulated. suspicious. Black bile was thick. swarthy.46 Writers. ‘Melancholy Galliard’ and ‘Forlorn Hope Fancy’. He naturally preferred solitude and darkness. the planet Saturn. and was continually tormented by morbid fears and sorrows. ‘none so present. so many Havens void of Ships and Townes. barren Heaths. sedentary lives. Henry Hawkins made explicit connections between Dowland. in astrology. .43 The four humours were the bodily equivalents of the four elements of inanimate matter. Music is important in this respect because it was thought to be one of the most powerful antidotes to melancholy. 1971). inducing melancholy. and went on to explain that music is: 51 . 1633. the season of winter.

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

7 ‘Gementes’. by a greatly increased use of affective devices. an abrupt change in harmonic direction for expressive purposes (Ex. though the A cadence at the end of the first strain is extended and therefore reinforced. and by adding subdominant F major harmony on the first beat of b. 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 the 4–3 suspension at the end of the second strain – seem to 53 . 10.7). 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. 4. The result is a more varied. balanced and modern harmonic scheme. declamatory passage near the beginning of the third strain embodying a cadence on E. 12–13 and 14–15. combined with mutatio toni. an apt illustration of the pavan’s title.48 But others – such as the modified version of the tear motif in bb. just serve to raise the temperature in a generalised way. the ‘immediate restatement of a word or two for greater vehemency’. Some of them. 1–2 of the Cantus containing a 5–6–5 motif. bb. The harmonic outline of the pavan is essentially the same as ‘Antiquae’. 4. such as the startling. it is also prolonged by secondary C cadences in bb. 13–14.The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’ Ex. groaning or wailing tears’. ‘Lachrimae Gementes’ Dowland illustrates ‘Gementes’. The figure is a classic example of epizeuxis. the extension of the sequence of falling thirds in bb. ‘sighing. according to Henry Peacham senior. 17–20 (lute part omitted) 20 [] [] [] (b). This.

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

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

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

When the music returns to the home key at the end of the strain. treachery. replacing the expected phrygian cadence. and then up a seventh. though admittedly no source of the period gives it this interpretation. For instance. 11–13. with an unsettling F – F change in the Altus and sinister chromatics in the Bassus. the A leading note replacing its enharmonic equivalent. the first time this key has been reached in the first strain. revenge and murder. the anabasis or ascensio in bb. ‘a lover’s tears’. The tone is set by the Bassus. the strange melodic pattern G –A–B –A in bb. swinging the music into a radiant C major. sedition. It is perhaps significant that the pavan generally has the most complex part-writing of the set. It distorts or exaggerates a number of its aspects. 6–7 as B –A–G –A. and at one stage he was suspected by the authorities of sedition. it does so unexpectedly by way of four beats of A major harmony. a figure that could be thought of as a musical portrayal of intrigue or deceit. 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. 20–2 of ‘Tristes’ is modified and inverted in bb. It relates mainly to ‘Tristes’. One wonders whether Dowland was thought to exemplify the melancholy malcontent. 10–11 of the Cantus of ‘Tristes’ is reversed. he had spent much of his career abroad and had travelled to Italy. 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.54 Similarly.The seven ‘Passionate Pavans’ Such alienation could easily lead to deceit. ‘Coactae’ certainly seems to illustrate the malcontent. It starts with the tear motif in close canon between the Cantus and the Quintus. Be that as it may. echoing (a) in the process. and there is much use of syncopation or syneresis. The harmonic instability is maintained almost to the end of the strain: the music swerves to avoid a D minor cadence in b. intrigue. 14.55 ‘Lachrimae Amantis’ With ‘Amantis’. the cycle takes a much more positive turn. which marches up a fifth from tonic to dominant. produced by 57 . 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. appearing in bb. then apparently heads towards G major but settles into a V–I E major cadence. He repeatedly complained that his talents went unrecognised in England.

but sometime in joy and gladnesse’. but Burton repeated Aristotle’s opinion that ‘melancholy men of all others are most witty. Some of the ideas come from ‘Tristes’. In the medical tradition deriving from Galen. as Dowland put it. 20–2 of ‘Tristes’. deriving from Aristotle by way of Marsilio Ficino and other humanists. or have been modified to seem more joyful and confident. with the exception of the expressive 6 –3 chord in b. love melancholy involved sorrow virtually by definition. The pavan could refer to an alternative tradition. Prophets. but they are the less anguished ones. but most agreed. producing an oddly static – or even ecstatic – effect. that saw melancholy as noble. and a kind of Enthusiasmus. it was warm and moist. ‘neither are tears shed alwayes in sorrowe. produced by an excess of blood in the body.56 Later writers were divided as to how the melancholy humour could produce such contradictory effects. Thus the first three bars are modelled on the anabasis or ascensio in bb. But ‘Amantis’ is certainly not sorrowful. and at the end of each strain the rate of chordchange slows down markedly. flats are conspicuously avoided. We are clearly not dealing here with conventional love melancholy. Varying the rate of chord-change was a basic expressive device for the madrigal composer. sharp Judgements and seeme to doe many things so notably as if they were furthered by some divine Instinct or motion. The lover only became cold. 10. which stirreth them up to bee excellent Philosophers. but it was rarely used in dance music. as Robert Crofts put it in 1640. sweet and pleasant to them. while the questing second strain recalls the second strain of ‘Tristes’. Insomuch as oft-times even their Solitarinesse and melancholly dispositions become most profitable. for erotic love was thought to be a sanguine rather than a melancholy passion. 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.57 58 . but uses modulations only on the sharp side of the harmonic spectrum. The Anatomy of Melancholy is mostly concerned with the Galenic type.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) a sighing A–C sixth in the Bassus and the Altus. Poets. virtuous and even inspired.’. which causeth many times a divine ravishment. dry and melancholic if his love was thwarted. Two other features of the pavan contribute to its distinctive character: it conspicuously avoids phrygian progressions. &c.

11 of ‘Tristes’. ‘Lachrimae Verae’ ‘Verae’. I suggest. deriving from bb. 12. while the progression in bb. 4 it swerves unexpectedly into G minor. ‘loathed Melancholy / Of Cerberus. . a ‘pensive Nun. stedfast and demure’.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. . The second strain refers again to the contrapuntal treatment of the tear motif. bb. dilection. nature. in favour of ‘heart-easing Mirth’. with the G –A–B –A figure in ‘Tristes’. recalling b. which includes ‘piety. not erotic passion. sage and holy’. in part because it tends to summarise and recapitulate the preceding pavans. pleasure. wealth. honour . seems to be concerned with a more specific aspect of noble melancholy. later celebrated by John Milton. . b. the love we owe our countrey. poetry. It begins with a variant of the contrapuntal treatment of the tear motif. possessions. In his poem ‘L’Allegro’ he rejects the Galenic type. benevolence. 10.59 There certainly seems to be a wide-ranging quality to ‘Verae’. ‘true tears’. friendship . 11–12 cunningly combines the 6 –3 chord in ‘Amantis’. the ‘divinest Melancholy’ of the scholar and philosopher.’. with the bass marching upwards in crotchets as in the opening of ‘Amantis’. 10–11. b. studying philosophy. / Sober. contemplating nature. Under her influence the poet is a wide-ranging seeker after truth and beauty. is concerned with these types of virtuous love. . and is therefore more varied than any one of them. beauty and ‘Charity’. Milton personifies it as a ‘Goddes. devout and pure. 10 from a G major cadence to E major harmony. before studying astronomy and botany in retirement in his ‘Mossy Cell’ until ‘old experience do attain / To something like Prophetic strain’. and the B –A–G –A figure in the Cantus at the end of the strain is a direct reference to ‘Coactae’. 6–7. ‘Il Penseroso’. and blackest midnight born’. religious architecture and church music.58 ‘Amantis’. In b. is an extended exploration of Aristotelian melancholy.60 The end of the strain returns to a phrygian cadence 59 . is echoed by the unexpected change in b. But Babb argued that the companion poem. and the D major–B major transition in ‘Amantis’. bb. including love of profit. 20–2 of ‘Tristes’ by way of the opening of ‘Amantis’. appreciating tragic drama.

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

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

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

it looks as if the dedications are records of personal friendship or esteem. and to some extent acts as a pendant to the ‘Lachrimae’ pavans. dedicated to himself. and Almands’.5 Thus a piece dedicated to a king. It can be seen most clearly in the sequence of galliards: they are ordered according to the rank of the dedicatee. 4° MS mus. Perhaps future research will reveal more about the more obscure figures he chose. A second principle can be detected in the ‘divers other Pavans. in a sense. 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. 125. 1–5. Galiards. ‘Denmark’. Dowland matched the mood of each piece to the character of its dedicatee. like Elgar. rather than attempts to curry favour among the great and the good. or matched the dedicatee to the mood of the piece. and thus more about the music Dowland dedicated to them.‘Divers other Pavans. for it seems that some of them were only named when they appeared in Lachrimae. a pavan dedicated to a knight. Nevertheless. ‘Unton’. Warwick Edwards suggested. ‘Essex’. was left out of the collection. Galiards. which is why. Lachrimae is unusual in that the ‘Divers other Pavans. Galiards. is followed by ones named after an earl. if we accept that the pavan is. dedicated to a commoner. and Almands’ proper pair for ‘Piper’. and it is striking how many of them are relatively unknown. along the lines of the ‘friends pictured within’ Elgar’s Enigma Variations. ‘Souch’. and Almands’ are all dedicated to different people. the related five-part ‘Piper’s Pavan’. and Almands’ so that they relate in some way to the seven ‘Lachrimae’ pavans. and then six commoners. takes precedence over ‘Langton’. ‘Semper Dowland semper Dolens’ ‘Dolens’ comes after ‘Verae’. This in turn raises the possibility that. Dowland does seem to have chosen or composed some of his ‘divers other Pavans.6 Diana Poulton suggested that Dowland 63 . Be that as it may. Dowland chose to work in several allusions to his song ‘Go christall teares’ from The First Booke. Taken with the fact that in at least three cases the pieces seem to be memorials to the recently deceased. a knight. Similarly. Galiards.4 Presumably Dowland preferred the more interesting and original relationships he had developed between ‘Antiquae’ and the other ‘Lachrimae’ pavans. it is in D-Kl.

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

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

e fiumi’. and a later lute setting in Varietie of Lute-Lessons entitled ‘Sir John Langton his Pavin’ – Langton was knighted in 1603. 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. fontane. and that the moderns. and while ‘Unton’ seems to confirm the theory. and several sections of complex imitative counterpoint. 10 and three minims into b. ‘induced by the sweetness and beauty’ of the ionian eleventh mode. the lydian fifth mode. the Lachrimae consort setting. ‘M. Holborne’s pavan is relatively simple. John Langtons Pavan’ It has often been suggested that pavans named after individuals were written as memorial pieces. and the piece is Dowland’s least sorrowful pavan. with three eight-bar strains and rather loosely organised counterpoint mainly in plain patterns of rising and falling crotchets.13 Zarlino wrote that its ancestor. 14. happiness. with its appropriate associations with the words ‘Mercie. while bb. He inserted an extra minim into b. Two of them are related to ideas in ‘Antiquae’: bb. 13–14 uses the contrapuntal version of the tear motif derived from the opening of Marenzio’s ‘Rivi. an early untitled lute pavan. thus avoiding the awkward effect in b. in a sunny Tone 6. 66 . good Lord. and relief from annoying cares’. where the dominant harmony arrives a beat early and has to be artificially prolonged. and it presumably has the same meaning here. replace b-natural with b-flat – effectively creating F major. ‘Langton’ contradicts it: the Lincolnshire landowner John Langton (1561–1616) of Langton near Horncastle was very much alive in 1604.15 The first two are fairly similar. 6–7 is another version of the ‘Sacred End’ figure.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) Dowland seems to have borrowed from Holborne rather than the other way round. ‘brings to the spirit modesty. 13.14 The pavan exists in three versions. and this is borne out by the music. while Dowland’s is much more elaborate. with the third strain extended to ten bars. I believe that Dowland intended this idea to represent consolation and relief from sorrow in ‘Tristes’. but ‘Sir John Langton his Pavin’ has more elaborate divisions. creating an eight-bar rather than a seven-bar strain. mercie’.

‘Divers other Pavans, Galiards, and Almands’

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 forthright 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
67

Dowland: Lachrimae (1604)

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 punishment 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 circulation 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’,
68

‘Divers other Pavans, Galiards, and Almands’

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 especially 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 circulated 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 galliards 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
69

31 Dowland probably gave ‘Hoby’ its title only when he published it in Lachrimae (an earlier lute setting is untitled). ‘Lachrimae’ did not have its own galliard until the lute ‘Galliard to Lachrimae’ appeared in A Pilgrimes Solace in 1612. The two pieces are found together a number of times. 5. while ‘Can she excuse’ / ‘Essex’ was also sometimes pressed into service in the same way. Harding. 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.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) Ex. though little is known about Giles Hoby (1565–1626) of the Herefordshire landed family. Galliard. Perhaps Dowland was just returning the compliment.2a J. for James Harding may have written his galliard to be paired with ‘Lachrimae’. bb. including Byrd’s keyboard setting and the five-part one copied by William Wigthorpe. 5.32 70 . and the syncopated rising pattern at the end of Harding’s second strain. bb. 5. 12–16 20 [ 3] [ 3] [ 3] Ex. and nothing about why Dowland dedicated this splendidly vigorous piece to him.2b ‘Hoby’. which Dowland placed at the end of his third strain (see Ex.2).

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

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

‘Amantis’ and ‘Verae’. Yet the musical potential of this device is only really exploited in the third strain.‘Divers other Pavans. there are internal D minor cadences in the first and third strains. Thomas Collier his Galiard with 2 Trebles’ The two galliards still to be discussed. and may have been written specially for Lachrimae. ‘Nichol’ and ‘Whitehead’.41 ‘Mistresse Nichols Almand’ Lachrimae ends with the two almands. with three eight-bar strains. Though it shares Tone 3 with the seven ‘Lachrimae’ pavans. Galiards. eventually cadencing in the distant key of F major – one of the ‘Improper Cadences’. which inevitably slows down the tempo. when the soprano instruments engage in a proper dialogue using material similar to. 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. ‘strange and informal to the Air’ and ‘sparingly to be used’. sometimes incorporating the contrapuntal version of the tear motif used in ‘Tristes’. It is largely taken up with patterns of rising and falling crotchets. Nicholas Gryffith his Galiard’ ‘Gryffith’ is virtually the only galliard in the repertory with the sort of elaborate imitative counterpoint we associate with pavans. but are quite different from each other. and the second strain is largely in D minor. it shows the strong influence of Tone 1: it starts with an A major rather than an A minor chord. and Almands’ ‘M. 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. for Carnarvon. the third strain of ‘Piper’. do not survive in any other source. ‘M. They are both in Tone 5. and partly by speeding up the harmonic rhythm. The former is 73 .P. Dowland gave himself the space to achieve this partly by extending the second and third strains to twelve bars. and could easily have been taken for an early piece had Dowland not used the new-fangled two-soprano scoring. according to Charles Butler. While they lean towards the phrygian Tone 4. Nothing is known of Thomas Collier. M. ‘Gryffith’ and ‘Collier’. and perhaps derived from.

is more complex than the simple lute setting. published before Lachrimae appeared. and the manuscript dates from around 1700. an obscure tenant of the Duke of Northumberland.44 74 . and was probably written specially for the volume. a wide-ranging tonal scheme with modulations to G major. the only one dedicated to the otherwise unknown Mistress Nichol or Nichols. with strains of eight and sixteen bars. with a series of suspensions in the last four bars. has some of its features. or there may have been an intermediate version. we do not know why Dowland dedicated it to George Whitehead. and a remarkable question-andanswer passage in the second strain that sounds like battle music. including the suspensions in the last four bars. 1603).Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) a breezy little two-strain piece of just twelve four-crotchet bars. again. but chants of this sort only developed after the Restoration. The Lachrimae version. George Whitehead his Almand’ ‘Whitehead’ is much more extended and sophisticated.42 ‘M. for the five-part setting in Valentin Haussmann’s Rest von Polnischen und andern Täntzen (Nuremberg. D minor. now lost. A minor and F major. It may have existed before 1604.43 ‘Whitehead’ is not known elsewhere. Diana Poulton suggests it was influenced by a four-part chant of the Athanasian Creed in an Oxford manuscript.

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

the pavan from the Suite no. 23 ‘Spero’. and an anonymous one has been attributed to Heinrich Scheidemann. 27 ‘The Image of Melancholy’. a five-part pavan and galliard by Brade in Füllsack and Hildebrandt’s 1607 anthology. nos. yet another Sweelinck pupil. and 76 . and Orlando Gibbons’s ‘Lord Salisbury’ pavan and galliard.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. it also includes keyboard variations on ‘Denmark’ by Samuel Scheidt. Giles Farnaby.5 Dowland’s memory was also preserved for several decades after his death by pieces that allude in various ways to ‘Lachrimae’. but a few pieces by Dowland survived longer in the keyboard repertory. an incomplete five-part pavan by Tomkins. probably because the Thirty Years War had begun to limit the access of English touring theatre companies to Germany.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) well as a pavan and a volta ascribed to Dowland but not known elsewhere. 21 ‘Infernum’. a keyboard pavan and galliard by Morley beginning with the complete tear motif. now in Budapest. 7.6 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 third Sweelinck pupil. Almains. another keyboard pavan by Orlando Gibbons does not use the falling fourth. We have English settings of ‘Lachrimae’ by William Byrd. 6 in Schein’s Banchetto musicale. and it is also found in five-part pavans by Thomas Weelkes and George Kirbye. a five-part pavan and galliard in Simpson’s 1610 collection. Holborne used it to begin six pavans in Pavans. and the piece probably entered the German repertory partly by way of Sweelinck’s ‘Pavana Lachrymae’: his pupil Melchior Schildt wrote a setting. among others. while the only source of the Sweelinck ‘Pavana Lachrymae’. but alludes to the harmony of ‘Lachrimae’ in several places. another pupil. William Randall and Benjamin Cosyn. also takes ‘Denmark’ as its starting point. 49 ‘Ploravit’ and 51 ‘Posthuma’.2 The Anglo-German consort style petered out in the 1620s. printed in 1621. Galliards. The practice of writing pavans beginning with the tear motif began quite early. and the pavan for four crumhorns in the same collection.4 Scheidt’s famous five-part ‘Galliard Battaglia’. may date from 1670 or later. a six-part pavan in Brade’s 1614 collection.

1642) and Jacob van Eyck’s Euterpe (Amsterdam. They include a four-part pavan in D minor by William Lawes. ‘Now. and the first three were printed in successive editions of Stichtelycke rymen by Dirk Rafaelszoon Camphuysen. Its popularity also ensured it a place in instrumental anthologies such as Nicolas Vallet’s Apollinis süsse Leyr (Amsterdam.10 Dowland’s music lingered longest in The Netherlands: the tunes of four of his pieces – ‘Lachrimae’. and then quotes the opening of ‘Langton’ at the beginning of the third. and in the 1652 edition set for two voices with variations by Joseph Butler for violin and bass viol. 1590–1667). sweet love doth now envite’ – passed into the Dutch repertory of popular songs. All four appear in Adriaen Valerius’s Neder-landtsche gedenck-clanck (Haarlem. O now I needs must part’ or the ‘Frog Galliard’. 1974).Reception uses the idea that begins Dowland’s third strain at the beginning of the second strain.11 Valerius printed a setting of ‘Lachrimae’ for two voices with lute and cittern. probably a pupil of William Brade. 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.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. the country dance version of ‘Essex’ or ‘Can she excuse’ (see below). the former is a setting for violin and bass (the violin part is lost). 1646). and a four-part D-minor pavan by the Hamburg violinist Johann Schop (c. reprinted in Der fluyten lust-hof I (Amsterdam.8 The last alludes to ‘Lachrimae’ at the beginning of the first two strains. repr.7 Many later pieces also use the tear motif. 77 . probably from travelling English theatre troupes. 1644). 7 in D minor for two violins. 1649). Robert de Visée and Charles Mouton. and ‘Come againe. rewritten by him in C minor for five viols and organ. 1626. bass viol and organ. 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. as well as Germans working in the same tradition such as Esias Reusner and Silvius Leopold Weiss. a four-part pavan in D minor by John Jenkins. while it appeared in the 1647 edition of Stichtelycke rymen set for four voices. the opening of Lawes’s Fantasia Suite no.

repr. 21. and Sir John Hawkins and Charles Burney were actively collecting material during the decade for their rival histories of music. and was but little used to writing in many parts’. Van Eyck published two settings as ‘Excusemoy’ in Der Fluyten Lust-hof II (Amsterdam. Another reason why Dowland’s music was neglected so long was that much of it 78 . The First Booke was edited by William Chappell for The Musical Antiquarian Society in 1844.Dowland: Lachrimae (1604) the latter four variations for solo recorder. including Gay’s Polly (1729) and Andrew Barton’s The Disappointment.13 With attitudes of this sort. The instrumental music had to wait even longer: Lachrimae first appeared in 1927. The tune is found in Dutch song books up to 1743. or The Force of Credulity (New York. published respectively in 1776 and 1776. but most of the lute music had to wait until the publication of CLM in 1974. and some of the part-song versions remained unpublished until 1953. c. 1700–c. and although Burney attempted to assess the music. Hawkins confined himself to an outline of Dowland’s life. it is not surprising that the revival of Dowland’s music essentially had to wait until the twentieth century. 1972). and it appeared in Dutch sources as late as Oude en nieuwe Hollantse boren lietjes en contredansen (Amsterdam. 1646). and was also called for in several ballad operas. 1782 and 1789. but in a country dance version known as ‘Excuse me’. he was notably unsympathetic: he claimed to have been ‘equally disappointed and astonished’ at Dowland’s ‘scanty abilities in counterpoint.12 Revival The 1760s saw the beginnings of the revival of Elizabethan music. 1728). 1767). and the great reputation he acquired with his co[n]temporaries’. though complete editions of the voice and lute versions of the songs only appeared in 1922–4. ‘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. The first volume of Boyce’s Cathedral Music appeared in 1760. ‘Essex’ or ‘Can she excuse’ also survived into the eighteenth century. no. first printed in Thomas Robinson’s New Citharen Lessons (1609). and suggested he ‘had not studied composition regularly at an early period of his life. 1716.

They were both outsiders denied advancement by the English establishment. and whose inspiration seems to have deserted them 79 . Fretwork (1989–90) and the Rose Consort (1992. a viol consort with lute. by the Schola Cantorum Basiliensis (1962). The recording by The Parley of Instruments (1992) uses a Renaissance violin consort with a lute.14 The first complete recording. articulation and ornamentation. 1957–8). indeed.Reception requires the lute and the viol. the Consort of Musicke (1979). or that the part could be played on a harpsichord or even a piano. whose gifts were recognised earlier on the Continent than at home. and transposes the low-pitched pieces up a fourth. as discussed in Chapter 2.15 Six of the seven subsequent complete recordings. They were complex and somewhat contradictory personalities. 1997). tuning.16 Today. and a virginals instead of a lute playing only the flourishes at the end of the strains. 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. styles of bowing. stringing. born almost 300 years later. to judge from a photograph in the accompanying leaflet. the Dowland Consort (1985). Hesperion XX (1987). by the Philomusica of London directed by Thurston Dart (c. Dowland’s music is more popular than at any time in the 400 years since it was written. use the same scoring. In many ways. though the first complete recording only appeared in 1957–8. Lachrimae is probably the most recorded and performed collection of instrumental music before the Water Music or the Brandenburg Concertos. The Elizabethan Players (1957) recorded the seven ‘Lachrimae’ pavans and ten of the other pieces on viols. uses a modern string orchestra with lute and harpsichord. vibrato. whose acute sense of melancholy and failure prevented them from enjoying fame and fortune. but with the treble viols played under the chin. instruments that were largely out of use between the early eighteenth century and the late nineteenth century. Dowland’s position in our musical culture invites comparison with that occupied by Elgar. 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. though comparisons between them reveal much about changing attitudes to the disposition of instruments.

relentless fashion and mindless experiment their music speaks to us with a peculiar eloquence. made the more intense for being expressed in conventional musical forms and idioms. 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. In an age of instant fame. 80 .

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

1976). f. 21 DM. 7 The Diary of John Manningham. 85–92. Tisdale’s Virginal Book. MS in the possession of Lord Forester. 40–1. 85. CLM. 18. 18 CLM. JD. see JD.43. f. 119–20. 16 Notes to P. Cohen. no. 429. 167. Rooley. Add. Poulton. 129–31. 13 JD. nos. no. Sorlien (Hanover. ‘Dowland’s Tears’. 94. 30. 20 Doughtie. MSS 17786–91. 22 D. The Complete Works 1 (Cambridge. 150–1. 359. for instance. 26. 7. no. 12 Edwards. Brown. 595–9. GB-Lbl. 1982). see. DM. Archaeologia 99 (1965). T. 5. Harmonia Mundi HMU 907162. 63–4. 24 Ibid. see also JD. 421–2. 17 JD. nos. 414. 2/1997). 149. Strong. no. Mass. ‘Dowland’s Dance-Songs’. English Renaissance Song. 2. JD. Orchesography. Palisca. 64–5. no. no. nos. 14a. see also JD. 53–76. 14 G. JD. 17. 28 Ibid. ed. LSJ 4 (1962). 10 GB-Ge. 34. R. Fallows (Oxford. 42. 31 Byrd. for instance. no. 9. Tune thy Musicke to thy Hart. 17–22. I am grateful to Matthew Spring for advice on this point. trans. Fellowes.d. R. 30 DM. Holborne.. 1. A. ‘A Portrait of Sir Henry Unton’. 67. 9 CLM. no. Music for Lute and Bandora. 14. DM. 60. 54. 14v. 26 Arbeau. 73–4. The Well-Tun’d Word: Musical Interpretations of English Poetry 1597–1651 (Minneapolis. ed. 47–8. CLM.. nos. 145–6. 120. 296–7. 150. 31. 423–5. Beaumont. 223–4. On the Modes. ed. ed. Companion to Mediaeval and Renaissance Music. P. ‘Captain Digory Piper of the Sweepstake’. 27 JD. St Augustine’s Confessions with an English Translation by William Watts 1631. 11 For Unton. 6 Edwards. JD. ‘Galliard Can she excuse and may serve to Lacrimae’. 25 E. A. 1967). JD. 23. 3. O’Dette. 13. John Dowland: Complete Lute Works 3. 91 . 55.Notes to pages 63–70 5 A point made in Pinto. see also Edwards. no. 29 CLM. 15 CLM. NH. 46. see.. see Spencer. see R. 3. nos. Jorgens. ed. ed. 8 Toft. 19 Ibid. Knighton and D. 25. 23 CLM. ‘Sir Henry Unton and his Portrait: An Elizabethan Memorial Picture and its History’. Zarlino. Eight Short Elizabethan Dances. 95. 431–3. 19. I. Brown. ed. Keyboard Music: II. 82–4.. B. 226–30.

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

11 R. D. Curtis. A. L’Oiseau Lyre 452 563–2. 149–52. A General History of the Science and Practice of Music (London. Amon Ra CD-SAR55. ed. ed. L’Oiseau Lyre Florilegium. 15 L’Oiseau Lyre OL50163 / OLS164. 93 . Paduanen. ‘Noel’. Hagge (Zurich. MB 60 (London. no. 15a. DSLO 517. for Joseph Butler. Keyboard Music. Pinto (London. 5. Pinto (London. ed. van Baak Griffioen. C. T. D. ed. ed. J. 8 W. 1991). ‘Essex’. 18. lists an undated recording of ‘Langton’. Mercer (London. ed. 1959). 249–53. 1957). Consort Music of Four Parts. 23–5. A General History of Music. 1969). 1935. 13 J. The Royall Consort (Old Consort). L. ‘“L’Amant malheureux”: S. J. Hendrie. 1853. DM. idem. 17. ed. ‘Collier’. 14 Pye CCL 30121.553326. F. 490–1. Burney. 104–5. 1962). 16. Der fluyten lust-hof. Rasch (Amsterdam.Notes to pages 77–9 7 T. see Dutch Keyboard Music of the 16th and 17th Centuries. 1991). nos. MB 26 (London. reissued on CD in John Dowland: The Collected Works. Cuming. 16 Harmonia Mundi HM30623. 179–81. 1995). 481–3. idem. 9 ’t Uitnement Kabinet VIII. 75. ‘Denmark’. nos. Allmanden sowie eine Galliarde und eine Canzone zu 4 Stimmen. R. Hawkins. Dart (London. ed. Clough and G. 10 T. Auvidis Fontalis ES 8701. ed. Morley. Fantasia Suites. Keyboard Works. Weiss and French Music’. ed. 30–2. xvii–xix. ‘Whitehead’ and ‘Nichol’ by a New York string orchestra directed by Max Goberman on the General label. A. 1963). Virgin VC5 45005. F. I (Colwyn Bay. 21–8. no. ed. Hyperion CDA66639. JD. 179–81. BIS CD 315. Consort Sets in Five and Six Parts. repr. 138–40. F. Naxos 8. see also. Monumenta musica Neerlandica 3 (Amsterdam. Lawes. The World’s Encyclopaedia of Recorded Music. 67–8. J. 117. 1978). Jenkins. 12 Baak Griffioen. 1950). MB 20 (London. 57. O. Jacob van Eyck’s Der fluyten lust-hof (Utrecht. repr. Pinto. 1961). G. 1982). Crawford. Ashbee. 6. II. 1979). Gibbons. paper read to the 1995 Royal Musical Association conference. Schop.

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

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

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

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

97

Index
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

98

Index
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

99

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

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