Richard, though thou be ever trichard,[28]
Trichen[29] shalt thou nevermore!
This, however, like many a scrap of battle-song, ribaldry exchanged
between two armies, and the like, has interest rather for the
antiquarian than for the reader. We shall leave such fragments, and
turn in conclusion to the folk-song of later times.
[28] Traitor.
[29] Betray.
The England of Elizabeth was devoted to lyric poetry, and folk-song
must have flourished along with its rival of the schools. Few of these
songs, however, have been preserved; and indeed there is no final test
for the communal quality in such survivals. Certainly some of the
songs in the drama of that time are of popular origin; but the
majority, as a glance at Mr. Bullen's several collections will prove,
are artistic and individual, like the music to which they were sung.
Occasionally we get a tantalizing glimpse of another lyrical England,
the folk dancing and singing their own lays; but no Autolycus brings
these to us in his basket. Even the miracle plays had not despised
folk-song; unfortunately the writers are content to mention the songs,
like our Acts of Congress, only by title. In the "comedy" called 'The
Longer Thou Livest the More Foole Thou Art,' there are snatches of
such songs; and a famous list, known to all scholars, is given by
Laneham in a letter from Kenilworth in 1575, where he tells of certain
songs, "all ancient," owned by one Captain Cox. Again, nobody ever
praised songs of the people more sincerely than Shakespeare has
praised them; and we may be certain that he used them for the stage.
Such is the 'Willow Song' that Desdemona sings,--an "old thing," she
calls it; and such perhaps the song in 'As You Like It,'--'It Was a
Lover and His Lass.' Nash is credited with the use of folk-songs in
his 'Summer's Last Will and Testament'; but while the pretty verses
about spring and the tripping lines, 'A-Maying,' have such a note,
nothing could be further from the quality of folk-song than the solemn
and beautiful 'Adieu, Farewell, Earth's Bliss.' In Beaumont and
Fletcher's 'Knight of the Burning Pestle,' however, Merrythought sings
some undoubted snatches of popular lyric, just as he sings stanzas
from the traditional ballad; for example, his--
Go from my window, love, go;
Go from my window, my dear;
The wind and the rain
Will drive you back again,
You cannot be lodged here,--
is quoted with variations in other plays, and was a favorite of the
time,[30] and like many a ballad appears in religious parody. A modern
variant, due to tradition, comes from Norwich; the third and fourth
lines ran:--
For the wind is in the west,
And the cuckoo's in his nest.
[30] The music in Chappell, page 141.
From the time of Henry VIII. a pretty song is preserved of this same
class:--
Westron wynde, when wyll thou blow!
The smalle rain downe doth rayne;
Oh if my love were in my armys,
Or I in my bed agayne!
This sort of song between the lovers, one without and one within,
occurs in French and German at a very early date, and is probably much
older than any records of it; as serenade, it found great favor with
poets of the city and the court, and is represented in English by
Sidney's beautiful lines, admirable for purposes of comparison with
the folk-song:--
"Who is it that this dark night
Underneath my window plaineth?"
"It is one who, from thy sight
Being, ah, exiled! disdaineth
Every other vulgar light."
The zeal of modern collectors has brought together a mass of material
which passes for folk-song. None of it is absolutely communal, for
the conditions of primitive lyric have long since been swept away;
nevertheless, where isolated communities have retained something of
the old homogeneous and simple character, the spirit of folk-song
lingers in survival. From Great Britain, from France, and particularly
from Germany, where circumstances have favored this survival, a few
folk-songs may now be given in inadequate translation. To go further
afield, to collect specimens of Italian, Russian, Servian, modern
Greek, and so on, would need a book. The songs which follow are
sufficiently representative for the purpose.
A pretty little song, popular in Germany to this day, needs no pompous
support of literary allusion to explain its simple pathos; still, it
is possible that one meets here a distant echo of the tragedy of
obstacles told in romance of Hero and Leander. When one hears this
song, one understands where Heine found the charm of his best
lyrics:--
Over a waste of water
The bonnie lover crossed,
A-wooing the King's daughter:
But all his love was lost.
Ah, Elsie, darling Elsie,
Fain were I now with thee;
But waters twain are flowing,
Dear love, twixt thee and me![31]
[31] Boehme, with music, page 94.
Even more of a favorite is the song which represents two girls in the
harvest-field, one happy in her love, the other deserted; the noise of
the sickle makes a sort of chorus. Uhland placed with the two stanzas
of the song a third stanza which really belongs to another tune; the
latter, however, may serve to introduce the situation:--
I heard a sickle rustling,
Ay, rustling through the corn:
I heard a maiden sobbing
Because her love was lorn.
"Oh let the sickle rustle!
I care not how it go;
For I have found a lover,
A lover,
Where clover and violets blow."
"And hast thou found a lover
Where clover and violets blow?
I stand here, ah, so lonely,
So lonely,
And all my heart is woe!"
Two songs may follow, one from France, one from Scotland, bewailing
the death of lover or husband. 'The Lowlands of Holland' was published
by Herd in his 'Scottish Songs.'[32] A clumsy attempt was made to fix
the authorship upon a certain young widow; but the song belies any
such origin. It has the marks of tradition:--
My love has built a bonny ship, and set her on the sea,
With sevenscore good mariners to bear her company;
There's threescore is sunk, and threescore dead at sea,
And the Lowlands of Holland has twin'd[33] my love and me.
My love he built another ship, and set her on the main,
And nane but twenty mariners for to bring her hame,
But the weary wind began to rise, and the sea began to rout;
My love then and his bonny ship turned withershins[34] about.
There shall neither coif come on my head nor comb come in my hair;
There shall neither coal nor candle-light come in my bower mair;
Nor will I love another one until the day I die,
For I never loved a love but one, and he's drowned in the sea.
"O haud your tongue, my daughter dear, be still and be content;
There are mair lads in Galloway, ye neen nae sair lament."
O there is none in Gallow, there's none at a' for me;
For I never loved a love but one, and he's drowned in the sea.
[32] Quoted by Child, 'Ballads,' iv. 318.
[33] Separated, divided.
[34] An equivalent to upside down, "in the wrong direction."