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Garrick Plays.

No. V.

[From "Arden of Feversham his true and lamentable Tragedy," Author unknown. 1592.]

Alice Arden with Mosbie her Paramour conspire the murder of her Husband.

Mos. How now, Alice, what sad and passionate?
Make me partaker of thy pensiveness;
Fire divided burns with lesser force.

Al. But I will dam that fire in my breast,
Till by the force thereof my part consume.
Ah Mosbie !

Mos. Such deep pathaires, like to a cannon's burst,
Discharged against a ruinated wall,

Breaks my relenting heart in thousand pieces.
Ungentle Alice, thy sorrow is my sore;
Thou know'st it will, and 'tis thy policy
To forge distressful looks, to wound a breast
Where lies a heart which dies when thou art sad.
It is not Love that loves to anger Love.

Al. It is not Love that loves to murther Love.
Mos. How mean you that?

Al. Thou know'st how dearly Arden loved me.
Mos. And then-

Al. And then-conceal the rest, for 'tis too bad,
Lest that my words be carried to the wind,
And publish'd in the world to both our shames.
I pray thee, Mosbie, let our springtime wither;
Our harvest else will yield but loathsome weeds.
Forget, I pray thee, what has past betwixt us;
For now I blush and tremble at the thoughts.
Mos. What, are you changed?

Al. Aye, to my former happy life again;
From title of an odious strumpet's name
To honest Arden's wife, not Arden's honest wife-
Ha Mosbie ! 'tis thou hast rifled me of that,

And made me slanderous to all my kin.
Even in my forehead is thy name engraven,
A mean Artificer, that low-born name!

I was bewitcht; woe-worth the hapless hour.

And all the causes that enchanted me.

Mos. Nay, if thou ban, let me breathe curses forth;
And if you stand so nicely at your fame,
Let me repent the credit I have lost.

I have neglected matters of import,

That would have 'stated me above thy state;
For-slow'd advantages, and spurn'd at time;
Aye, Fortune's right hand Mosbie hath forsook,
To take a wanton giglot by the left.

I left the marriage of an honest maid,

Whose dowry would have weigh'd down all thy wealth;
Whose beauty and demeanour far exceeded thee.
This certain good I lost for changing bad,
Ard wrapt my credit in thy company.
I was bewitcht; that is no theme of thine
And thou unhallow'd hast enchanted me.
But I will break thy spells and exorcisms,
And put another sight upon these eyes,
That shew'd my heart a raven for a dove.

Thou art not fair; I view'd thee not till now:
Thou art not kind; till now I knew thee not:
And now the rain hath beaten off thy gilt,
Thy worthless copper shews thee counterfeit.
It grieves me not to see how foul thou art,
But mads me that ever I thought thee fair.
Go, get thee gone, a copesmate for thy hinds;
I am too good to be thy favourite.

Al. Aye, now I see, and too soon find it true,
Which often hath been told me by my friends,
That Mosbie loves me not but for my wealth;
Which too incredulous I ne'er believed.
Nay, hear me speak, Mosbie, a word or two;
I'll bite my tongue if I speak bitterly.
Look on me, Mosbie, or else I'll kill myself.
Nothing shall hide me from thy stormy look;
If thou cry War, there is no Peace for me.

I will do penance for offending thee;
And burn this Prayer Book, which I here use,
The Holy Word that has converted me.
See, Mosbie, I will tear away the leaves,
And all the leaves; and in this golden Cover
Shall thy sweet phrases and thy letters dwell,
And thereon will I chiefly meditate,

And hold no other sect but such devotion.
Wilt thou not look? is all thy Love o'erwhelm'd?
Wilt thou not hear? what malice stops thy ears?
Why speakst thou not? what silence ties thy tongue?
Thou hast been sighted as the Eagle is,
And heard as quickly as the fearful Hare
And spoke as smoothly as an Orator,
When I have bid thee hear, or see, or speak:
And art thou sensible in none of these?
Weigh all thy good turns with this little fault,
And I deserve not Mosbie's muddy looks.
A fence of trouble is not thicken'd still;
Be clear again; I'll ne'er more trouble thee.
Mos. O fie, no; I'm a base artificer;
My wings are feather'd for a lowly flight.
Mosbie, fie, no; not for a thousand pound
Make love to you; why, tis unpardonable.
We Beggars must not breathe, where Gentiles are.
Al. Sweet Mosbie is as Gentle as a King,
And I too blind to judge him otherwise.
Flowers sometimes spring in fallow lands;
Weeds in gardens, Roses grow on thorns:
So, whatsoe'er my Mosbie's father was,
Himself is valued Gentle by his worth.

Mos. Ah how you women can insinuate,
And clear a trespass with your sweet set tongue.
I will forget this quarrel, gentle Alice,
Provided I'll be tempted so no more.

Arden, with his friend Franklin, travelling at night to Arden's house at Feversham, where he is lain in wait for by Ruffians, hired by Alice and Mosbie to murder him; Franklin is interrupted in a story he was beginning to tell by the way of a BAD WIFE, by an indisposition, ominous of the impending danger of his friend

Arden. Come, Master Franklin, onwards with your tale.

Frank. I'll assure you, Sir, you task me much.
A heavy blood is gather'd at my heart;
And on the sudden is my wind so short,
As hindereth the passage of my speech.
So fierce a qualm yet ne'er assailed me.

Arden. Come, Master Franklin, let us go on softly;
The annoyance of the dust, or else some meat
You ate at dinner cannot brook with you.
I have been often so, and soon amended.

Frank. Do you remember where my tale did leave? Arden. Aye, where the Gentleman did check his wife

Frank. She being reprehended for the fact,
Witness produced that took her with the fact,
Her glove brought in which there she left behind,
And many other assured arguments,

Her Husband ask'd her whether it were not so-
Arden. Her answer then? I wonder how she look'd,
Having forsworn it with so vehement oaths,
And at the instant so approved upon her.
Frank. First did she cast her

earth,

eyes

down

on

Watching the drops that fell amain from thence;
Then softly draws she out her handkercher,
And modestly she wipes her tear-stain'd face:

the

Then hemm'd she out (to clear her voice it should seem),

And with a majesty addrest herself
To encounter all their accusations-
Pardon me, Master Arden, I can no more;
This fighting at my heart makes short my wind.
Arden. Come, we are almost now at Raynum Down;
Your pretty tale beguiles the weary way,
I would you were in case to tell it out.

[They are set upon by the Ruffians.]

Music.

For the Table Book. GOD SAVE THE KING.

JOHN BULL.

In answer to an inquiry in The Times, respecting the author of "God save the King," the writers of several letters in that journal, during the present month, concur in ascribing the air of the "national anthem" to Dr. John Bull. This opinion results from recent researches, by the curious in music, which have been published in elaborate forms.

Dr. John Bull was a celebrated musician, born about 1563, in Somersetshire. His master in music was William Blitheman, organist of the chapel royal to queen Elizabeth, in which capacity he was much distinguished. Bull, on the death of his master in 1591, was appointed his suc

cessor. In 1592 he was created doctor in the university of Cambridge; and in 1596, at the recommendation of her majesty, he was made professor of music to Gresham college, which situation he resigned it. 1607. During more than a year of his professorship, Mr. Thomas Bird, son of the venerable William Bird, exercised the office of a substitute to Dr. Bull, while he travelled on the continent for the recovery of his health. After the decease of queen Elizabeth, Bull was appointed chambermusician to king James. In 1613, Dr. Bull finally quitted England, and entered into the service of the archduke, in the Netherlands. He afterwards seems to have settled at Lubec, from which place many of his compositions, in the list published by Dr. Ward, are dated; one of them so late as 1622, the supposed year of his decease. Dr. Bull has been censured for quitting his establishment in England; but it is probable that the increase of health and wealth was the cause and consequence of his removal. He seems to have been praised at home more than rewarded. The professorship of Gresham college was not then a sinecure. His attendance on the chapel royal, for which he had 401. per annum, and on the prince of Wales, at a similar salary, though honourable, were not very lucrative appointments for the first performer in the world, at a time when scholars were not so profitable as at present, and there was no public performance where this most wonderful musician could display his abilities. A list of more than two hundred of Dr. Bull's compositions, vocal and instrumental, is inserted in his life, the whole of which, when his biography was written in 1740, were preserved in the collection of Dr. Pepusch. The chief part of these were pieces for the organ and virginal.*

Anthony a Wood relates the following anecdote of this distinguished musician, when he was abroad for the recovery of his health in 1601 :

"Dr. Bull hearing of a famous musician belonging to a certain cathedral at St. Omer's, he applied himself as a novice to him, to learn something of his faculty, and to see and admire his works. This musician, after some discourse had passed between them, conducted Bull to a vestry or music-school joining to the cathedral, and showed to him a lesson or song of forty parts, and then made a vaunting challenge to any person in the world to add one more part

Dictionary of Musicians. Hawkins.

to them, supposing it to be so complete and full that it was impossible for any mortal man to correct or add to it; Bull thereupon desiring the use of pen, ink, and ruled paper, such as we call music paper, prayed the musician to lock him up in the said school for two or three hours; which being done, not without great disdain by the musician, Bull in that time, or less, added forty more parts to the said lesson or song. The musician thereupon being called in, he viewed it, tried it, and retried it; at length he burst out into a great ecstasy, and swore by the great God, that he that added those forty parts must either be the devil, or Dr. Bull, &c. Whereupon Bull making himself known, the musician 'fell down and adored him. Afterwards continuing there and in those parts for a time, he became so much admired, that he was courted to accept of any place or preferment suitable to his profession, either within the dominions of the emperor, king of France, or Spain; but the tidings of these transactions coming to the English court, queen Elizabeth commanded him home."

Dr. Burney disregards the preceding account as incredible; but Wood was a most accurate writer: and Dr. Bull, besides being a great master, was a lover of the difficulties in his science, and was therefore likely to seek them with delight, and accomplish them in a time surprisingly short to those who study melody rather than intricacy of composition.

It is related that in the reign of James I. "July the 16th, 1607, his majesty and prince Henry, with many of the nobility, and other honourable persons, dined at Merchant Taylors' hall, it being the election-day of their master and wardens; when the company's roll being offered to his majesty, he said he was already free of another company, but that the prince should grace them with the acceptance of his freedom, and that he would himself see when the garland was put on his head, which was done accordingly. During their stay, they were entertained with a great variety of music, both voices and instruments, as likewise with several speeches. And, while the king sat at dinner, Dr. Bull, who was free of that company,being in a cittizen's gowne, cappe, and hood, played most excellent melodie uppon a small payre of organs, placed there for that purpose onely.'

From the only works of Dr. Bull in

• Wood's Fasti, anno 1586.

print, some lessons in the "Partheniathe first music that was ever printed for the virginals," he is deemed to have possessed a power of execution on the harpsichord far beyond what is generally conceived of the masters of that time. As to his lessons, they were, in the estimation of Dr. Pepusch, not only for the harmony and contrivance, but for air and modulation, so excellent, that he scrupled not to prefer them to those of Couperin, Scarlatti, and others of the modern composers for the harpsichord.

Dr. Pepusch had in his collection a book of lessons very richly bound, which had once been queen Elizabeth's; in this were contained many lessons of Bull, so very difficult, that hardly any master of the doctor's time was able to play them. It is well known, that Dr. Pepusch married the famous opera singer, signora Margarita de L'Pine, who had a very fine hand on the harpsichord: as soon as they were married, the doctor inspired her with the same sentiments of Bull as he himself had long entertained, and prevailed on her to practise his lessons; in which she succeeded so well, as to excite the curiosity of numbers to resort to his house at the corner of Bartlett's-buildings, in Fetter-lane, to hear her. There are no remaining evidences of her unwearied application, in order to attain that degree of excellence which it is known she arrived at; but the book itself is yet in being, which in some parts of it is so discoloured by continual use, as to distinguish with the utmost degree of certainty the very lessons with which she was most delighted. One of them took up twenty minutes to go through it.*

Dr. Burney says, that Pepusch's preference of Bull's compositions to those of Couperin and Scarlatti, rather proves that the doctor's taste was bad, than that Bull's music was good; and he remarks, in reference to some of them, "that they may be heard by a lover of music, with as little emotion as the clapper of a mill, or the rumbling of a post-chaise." It is a misfortune to Dr. Bull's fame, that he left little evidence of his great powers, except the transcendantly magnificent air of "God save the king."

February, 1827.

COMPANY OF MUSICIANS

OF THE CITY OF LONDON.

King James I., upon what beneficial principle it is now difficult to discover, ly

• Hawkins.

letters-patent incorporated the musicians of the city of London into a company, and they still continue to enjoy privileges in consequence of their constituting a fraternity and corporation; bearing arms azure, a swan, argent, within a tressure counterflure, or in a chief, gules, a rose between two lions, or and for their crest the celestial sign Lyra, called by astronomers the Orphean Lyre. Unluckily for the bonvivans of this tuneful tribe, they have no hall in the city for festive delights! However, on days of greatest gourmandise, the members of this body are generally too busily employed in exhilarating others, comfortably to enjoy the fruits of good living themselves. And here historical integrity obliges me to say, that this company has ever been held in derision by real professors, who have regarded it as an institution as foreign to the cultivation and prosperity of good music, as the train-bands to the art of war. Indeed, the only uses that have hitherto been made of this charter seem the affording to aliens an easy and cheap expedient of acquiring the freedom of the city, and enabling them to pursue some more profitable and respectable trade than that of fiddling; as well as empowering the company to keep out of processions, and city-feasts, every street and countrydance player, of superior abilities to those who have the honour of being styled the "Waits of the corporation.”

EFFECTS OF MUSIC.

Sultan Amurath, that cruel prince, having laid siege to Bagdad, and taken it, gave orders for putting thirty thousand Persians to death, notwithstanding they had submitted, and laid down their arms. Among the number of these unfortunate victims was a musician. He besought the officer, who had the command to see the sultan's orders executed, to spare him but for a moment, while he might be permitted to speak to the emperor. The officer indulged him with his entreaty; and, being brought before the emperor, he was permitted to exhibit a specimen of his art. Like the musician in Homer, he took up a kind of psaltry, resembling a lyre, with six strings on each side, and accompanied it with his voice. He sung the taking of Bagdad, and

the triumph of Amurath. The pathetic tones and exulting sounds which he drew from the instrument, joined to the alternate

• Burney.

plaintiveness and boldness of his strains, rendered the prince unable to restrain the softer emotions of his soul. He even suffered him to proceed until, overpowered with harmony, he melted into tears of pity, and relented of his cruel intention. He spared the prisoners who yet remained alive, and gave them instant liberty.

Topography.

THE YORKSHIRE GIPSY.*

For the Table Book,

The Gipsies are pretty well known as streams of water, which, at different periods, are observed on some parts of the Yorkshire Wolds. They appear toward the latter eud of winter, or early in spring; sometimes breaking out very suddenly, and, after running a few miles, again disappearing. That which is more particularly distinguished by the name of The Gipsy, has its origin near the Wold-cottage, at a distance of about twelve miles W. N. W. from Bridlington. The water here does not rise in a body, in one particular spot, but may be seen oozing and trickling among the grass, over a surface of considerable extent, and where the ground is not interrupted by the least apparent breakage; collecting into a mass, it passes off in a channel, of about four feet in depth, and eight or ten in width, along a fertile valley, toward the sea, which it enters through the harbour at Bridlington; having passed the villages of Wold Boynton. Its uncertain visits, and the Newton, North Burton, Rudston, and amazing quantity of water sometimes discharged in a single season, have afforded subjects of curious speculation. One writer displays a considerable degree of ability in favour of a connection which he supposes to exist between it and the ebbing and flowing spring, discovered at Bridlington Quay in 1811. "The appearance of this water," however, to use the words of Mr. Hinderwell, the historian of Scarborough," is certainly influenced by the state of the seasons," as there is sometimes an intermission of three or four years. It is probably occasioned by a surcharge of water descending from the high lands into the vales, by subterraneous passages, and, finding a proper place of emission, breaks

out with great force.

• The word is not pronounced the same as gipsy, a fortune-teller; the g, in this case, being sounded hard as in gimlet.

After a secession of five years, the Gipsy made its appearance in February, 1823; a circumstance which some people had supposed as unlikely to occur, owing to the alterations effected on the Carrs, under the Muston and Yedingham drainage act.

We are told, that the ancient Britons exalted their rivers and streams into the offices of religion, and whenever an object had been thus employed, it was reverenced with a degree of sanctity ever afterwards; and we may readily suppose, that the sudden and extraordinary appearance of this stream, after an interval of two or three successive years, would awaken their curiosity, and excite in them a feeling of sacred astonishment. From the Druids may probably have descended a custom, formerly prevalent among the young people at North Burton, but now discontinued: it was66 going to meet the Gipsy," on her first approach. Whether or not this meeting was accompanied by any particular ceremony, the writer of this paragraph has not been able to ascertain.

Bridlington.

T. C.

WILTSHIRE ABROAD AND AT HOME.

To the Editor.

There is a land, of every land the pride,
Beloved by heaven o'er all the world beside,
Where brighter suns dispense serener light,
And milder moons emparadise the night.

A land of beauty, virtue, valour, truth,
Time-tutor'd age, and love-exalted youth;
The wandering mariner, whose eye explores
The wealthiest isles, the most enchanting shores,

Views not a realm so beautiful and fair,

Nor breathes the spirit of a purer air;

In

every clime the magnet of his soul, Touch'd by remembrance, trembles to that pole. For in this land of heaven's peculiar grace, The heritage of Nature's noblest race, There is a spot of earth, supremely blest, A dearer, sweeter spot than all the rest; Where man, creation's tyrant, casts aside His sword and sceptre, pageantry and pride; While in his softened looks benignly blend The sire, the son, the husband, brother, friend. Here woman reigns-the mother, daughter, wife, Strews with fresh flowers the narrow way of life; In the clear heaven of her delightful eye An angel guard of loves, and graces lie; Around her knees domestic duties meet, And fireside pleasures gambol at her feet.

Where shall that land, that spot of earth be found?
Art thou a man? a patriot? look around;
Oh, thou shalt find, howe'er thy footsteps roam,
That land thy country, and that spot thy home.

Mr. Editor,-As your Table Book may be considered an extensively agreeable and entertaining continuation of your EveryDay Book, allow me a column, wherein, without wishing to draw attention too frequently to one subject, I would recur again to the contributions of your correspondent, in vol. ii. page 1371, of the Every-Day Book, my observations at page 1584, and his notices at page 1606. Your “ Old Correspondent" is, I presume, a native of this part of the country. He tells us, page 1608, that his ancestors came from the Priory; in another place, that he is himself an antiquarian; and, if I am not much mistaken in the signatures, you have admitted his poetical effusions in some of your numbers. Assuming these to be facts, he will enter into the feeling conveyed by the lines quoted at the head of this article, and agree with me in this observation, that every man who writes of the spot, or the county so endeared, should be anxious that truth and fiction should not be so blended together as to mislead us (the inhabitants) who read your miscellany; and that we shall esteem it the more, as the antiquities, the productions, and the peculiarities of this part of our county are noticed in a proper manner.

As your correspondent appears to have been anxious to set himself right with regard to the inaccuracies I noticed in his account of Clack, &c., I will point out that he is still in error in one slight particular. When he visits this county again, he will find, if he should direct his footsteps towards Malmsbury and its venerable abbey, (now the church,) the tradition is, that the boys of a school, kept in a room that once existed over the antique and curious entrance to the abbey, revolted and killed their master. Mr. Moffatt, in his history of Malmsbury, (ed. 1805,) has not noticed this tradition.

Excuse my transcribing from that work, the subjoined "Sonnet to the Avon," and let me express a hope that your correspondent may also favour us with some effusions in verse upon that stream, the scene of warlike contests when the boundary of the Saxon kingdom, or upon other subjects connected with our local history.

Upon this river, meandering through a fine and fertile tract of country, Mr. Mof

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