Folk-lore of Shakespeare by Thomas Firminger Thiselton Dyer (year 2 reading books .txt) 📖

Comments: 0

Keywords:

Complain

Read Book

Download in Format:

Author: Thomas Firminger Thiselton Dyer
Performer: -

Book online «Folk-lore of Shakespeare by Thomas Firminger Thiselton Dyer (year 2 reading books .txt) 📖». Author Thomas Firminger Thiselton Dyer

Go to page:

’fore thy dignity will dance a morris.
And I, that am the rectifier of all,
By title Pædagogus, that let fall
The birch upon the breeches of the small ones,
And humble with a ferula the tall ones,
Do here present this machine, or this frame:
And, dainty duke, whose doughty dismal fame,
From Dis to Dædalus, from post to pillar,
Is blown abroad, help me, thy poor well willer,
And, with thy twinkling eyes, look right and straight
Upon this mighty morr—of mickle weight—
Is—now comes in, which being glu’d together
Makes morris, and the cause that we came hether,
The body of our sport, of no small study.
I first appear, though rude, and raw, and muddy,
To speak, before thy noble grace, this tenner;
At whose great feet I offer up my penner:
The next, the Lord of May and Lady bright,
The chambermaid and serving-man, by night
That seek out silent hanging: then mine host
And his fat spouse, that welcomes to their cost
The galled traveller, and with a beck’ning,
Inform the tapster to inflame the reck’ning:
Then the beast-eating clown, and next the fool,
The bavian, with long tail and eke long tool;
Cum multis aliis that make a dance:
Say ‘Ay,’ and all shall presently advance.”

Among the scattered allusions to the characters of this dance may be noticed that in “1 Henry IV.” (iii. 3): “and for womanhood, Maid Marian may be the deputy’s wife of the ward to thee”—the allusion being to “the degraded Maid Marian of the later morris-dance, more male than female.”[659]

The “hobby-horse,” another personage of the morris-dance on May day, was occasionally omitted, and appears to have given rise to a popular ballad, a line of which is given by “Hamlet” (iii. 2):

“For, O, for, O, the hobby-horse is forgot.”

This is quoted again in “Love’s Labour’s Lost” (iii. 1). The hobby-horse was formed by a pasteboard horse’s head, and a light frame made of wicker-work to join the hinder parts. This was fastened round the body of a man, and covered with a foot-cloth which nearly reached the ground, and concealed the legs of the performer, who displayed his antic equestrian skill, and performed various juggling tricks, to the amusement of the bystanders. In Sir Walter Scott’s “Monastery” there is a spirited description of the hobby-horse.

The term “hobby-horse” was applied to a loose woman, and in the “Winter’s Tale” (i. 2) it is so used by Leontes, who says to Camillo:

“Then say
My wife’s a hobby-horse; deserves a name
As rank as any flax-wench, that puts to
Before her troth-plight.”

In “Othello” (iv. 1), Bianca, speaking of Desdemona’s handkerchief, says to Cassio: “This is some minx’s token, and I must take out the work! There, give it your hobby-horse.” It seems also to have denoted a silly fellow, as in “Much Ado About Nothing” (iii. 2), where it is so used by Benedick.

Another character was Friar Tuck, the chaplain of Robin Hood, and as such is noticed in the “Two Gentlemen of Verona” (iv. 1), where one of the outlaws swears:

“By the bare scalp of Robin Hood’s fat friar.”

He is also represented by Tollet as a Franciscan friar in the full clerical tonsure, for, as he adds, “When the parish priests were inhibited by the diocesan to assist in the May games, the Franciscans might give attendance, as being exempted from episcopal jurisdiction.”[660]

It was no uncommon occurrence for metrical interludes of a comic species, and founded on the achievements of the outlaw Robin Hood, to be performed after the morris, on the May-pole green. Mr. Drake thinks that these interludes are alluded to in “Twelfth Night” (iii. 4), where Fabian exclaims, on the approach of Sir Andrew Aguecheek with his challenge, “More matter for a May morning.”

Whitsuntide. Apart from its observance as a religious festival, Whitsuntide was, in times past, celebrated with much ceremony. In the Catholic times of England it was usual to dramatize the descent of the Holy Ghost, which this festival commemorates—a custom which we find alluded to in Barnaby Googe’s translation of Naogeorgus:

“On Whit-Sunday white pigeons tame in strings from heaven flie,
And one that framed is of wood still hangeth in the skie,
Thou seest how they with idols play, and teach the people too:
None otherwise than little girls with puppets used to do.”

This custom appears to have been carried to an extravagant height in Spain, for Mr. Fosbroke[661] tells us that the gift of the Holy Ghost was represented by “thunder from engines which did much damage.” Water, oak leaves, burning torches, wafers, and cakes were thrown down from the church roof; pigeons and small birds, with cakes tied to their legs, were let loose; and a long censer was swung up and down. In our own country, many costly pageants were exhibited at this season. Thus, at Chester, the Whitsun Mysteries were acted during the Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday in Whitsun week. The performers were carried from one place to another by means of a scaffold—a huge and ponderous machine mounted on wheels, gayly decorated with flags, and divided into two compartments—the upper of which formed the stage, and the lower, defended from vulgar curiosity by coarse canvas draperies, answered the purposes of a green-room. To each craft in the city a separate mystery was allotted. Thus, the drapers exhibited the “Creation,” the tanners took the “Fall of Lucifer,” the water-carriers of the Dee acted the “Deluge,” etc. The production, too, of these pageants was extremely costly; indeed, each one has been set down at fifteen or twenty pounds sterling. An allusion to this custom is made in the “Two Gentlemen of Verona” (iv. 4), where Julia says:

“At Pentecost,
When all our pageants of delight were play’d,
Our youth got me to play the woman’s part,
And I was trimm’d in Madam Julia’s gown.”

The morris-dance, too, was formerly a common accompaniment to the Whitsun ales, a practice which is still kept up in many parts of the country. In “Henry V.” (ii. 4), the Dauphin thus alludes to it:

“I say, ’tis meet we all go forth,
To view the sick and feeble parts of France:
And let us do it with no show of fear;
No, with no more than if we heard that England
Were busied with a Whitsun morris-dance.”

And once more, in the “Winter’s Tale” (iv. 4), Perdita says to Florizel:

“Methinks I play as I have seen them do
In Whitsun pastorals.”

A custom formerly kept up in connection with Whitsuntide was the “Whitsun ale.” Ale was so prevalent a drink among us in olden times as to become a part of the name of various festal meetings, as Leet ale, Lamb ale, Bride ale (bridal), and, as we see, Whitsun ale. Thus our ancestors were in the habit of holding parochial meetings every Whitsuntide, usually in some barn near the church, consisting of a kind of picnic, as each parishioner brought what victuals he could spare. The ale, which had been brewed pretty strong for the occasion, was sold by the churchwardens, and from its profits a fund arose for the repair of the church.[662] These meetings are referred to by Shakespeare in “Pericles” (i. 1):

“It hath been sung at festivals,
On ember-eves and holy-ales.”

In the “Two Gentlemen of Verona” (ii. 5), when Launce tells Speed, “thou hast not so much charity in thee as to go to the ale with a Christian,” these words have been explained to mean the rural festival so named, though, as Mr. Dyce remarks (“Glossary,” p. 10), the previous words of Launce, “go with me to the ale-house,” show this explanation to be wrong.

In the old miracle-plays performed at this and other seasons Herod was a favorite personage, and was generally represented as a tyrant of a very overbearing, violent character. Thus Hamlet says (iii. 2): “O, it offends me to the soul, to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings; who, for the most part, are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb-shows and noise: I would have such a fellow whipped for o’er-doing Termagant; it out-herods Herod.” On this account Alexas mentions him as the most daring character when he tells Cleopatra (“Antony and Cleopatra,” iii. 3):

“Good majesty,
Herod of Jewry dare not look upon you
But when you are well pleas’d.”

In the “Merry Wives of Windsor” (ii. 1), Mrs. Page speaks of him in the same signification: “What a Herod of Jewry is this!”

Mr. Dyce, in his “Glossary” (p. 207), has this note: “If the reader wishes to know what a swaggering, uproarious tyrant Herod was represented to be in those old dramatic performances, let him turn to ‘Magnus Herodes’ in ‘The Towneley Mysteries,’ p. 140, ed. Surtees Society; to ‘King Herod’ in the ‘Coventry Mysteries,’ p. 188, ed. Shakespeare Society; and to ‘The Slaughter of the Innocents’ in ‘The Chester Plays,’ vol. i. p. 172, ed. Shakespeare Society.”

Like Herod, Termagant[663] was a hectoring tyrant of the miracle-plays, and as such is mentioned by Hamlet in the passage quoted above. Hence, in course of time, the word was used as an adjective, in the sense of violent, as in “1 Henry IV.” (v. 4), “that hot termagant Scot.” Hall mentions him in his first satire:

“Nor fright the reader with the Pagan vaunt
Of mighty Mahound and great Termagaunt.”

While speaking of the old mysteries or miracle-plays we may also here refer to the “moralities,” a class of religious plays in which allegorical personifications of the virtues and vices were introduced as dramatis personæ. These personages at first only took part in the play along with the Scriptural or legendary characters, but afterwards entirely superseded them. They continued in fashion till the time of Queen Elizabeth. Several allusions are given by Shakespeare to these moral plays. Thus, in “Twelfth Night” (iv. 1), the clown sings:

“I am gone, sir,
And anon, sir,
I’ll be with you again
In a trice,
Like to the old Vice,
Your need to sustain;

Who, with dagger of lath,
In his rage and his wrath,
Cries, Ah, ha! to the devil,” etc.

Again, in “1 Henry IV.” (ii. 4), Prince Henry speaks of “that reverend Vice, that grey Iniquity;” and in “2 Henry IV.” (iii. 2), Falstaff says, “now is this Vice’s dagger become a squire.”

Again, further allusions occur in “Richard III.” (iii. 1). Gloster says:

“Thus, like the formal Vice, Iniquity,
I moralize two meanings in one word.”

And once more, Hamlet (iii. 4), speaks of “a Vice of kings,” “a king of shreds and patches.”

According to Nares, “Vice” had the name sometimes of one vice, sometimes of another, but most commonly of Iniquity, or Vice itself. He was grotesquely dressed in a cap with ass’s ears, a long coat, and a dagger of lath. One of his chief employments was to make sport with the devil, leaping on his back, and belaboring him with his dagger of lath, till he made him roar. The devil, however, always carried him off in the end. He was, in short, the buffoon of the morality, and was succeeded in his office by the clown, whom we see in Shakespeare and others.

Go to page:

Free ebook «Folk-lore of Shakespeare by Thomas Firminger Thiselton Dyer (year 2 reading books .txt) 📖» - read online now

Comments (0)

There are no comments yet. You can be the first!

Add a comment