The paine of pleasure describing in a perfect mirror, the miseries of man [by Anthony Munday] |
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Musicke, The sixt pleasure.
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 | The paine of pleasure |  |
Musicke, The sixt pleasure.
But
let me first of Musicke speake my minde,
Which with some sport doth yeeld as great a spight,
The little Boy, first by his eares doth finde,
In plaine-song pulles is very small delight.
In pricke-song then, a priuie pinch or two:
Makes him in song, haue little minde vnto.
Which with some sport doth yeeld as great a spight,
The little Boy, first by his eares doth finde,
In plaine-song pulles is very small delight.
In pricke-song then, a priuie pinch or two:
Makes him in song, haue little minde vnto.
And way the time that wantonly ye spend,
First in the Notes, and then againe in Cliffes:
How to ascend, and then againe descend,
By Larges and Longs, by Breefes and Semibreefes.
Minims, Crochets, Quauers, Sharps, Flats, to faine:
Vt, re, me, fa, sol, la, and backe againe.
First in the Notes, and then againe in Cliffes:
How to ascend, and then againe descend,
By Larges and Longs, by Breefes and Semibreefes.
Minims, Crochets, Quauers, Sharps, Flats, to faine:
Vt, re, me, fa, sol, la, and backe againe.
Then when you know your notes and how to sing,
Then instruments of Musicke must be had:
And then an eare to euery sundry string,
Which makes some men, my selfe haue seene halfe mad.
For earnest harkening to the Musicks sound:
Makes some oft times too farre in Musicke drownd.
Then instruments of Musicke must be had:
And then an eare to euery sundry string,
Which makes some men, my selfe haue seene halfe mad.
For earnest harkening to the Musicks sound:
Makes some oft times too farre in Musicke drownd.
And is it not a prettie sport thinke you,
That makes one mad ere he attaine the same?
I take it so, and this belieue me now,
Who seekes himselfe to Musikes arte to frame,
And very young is set to Musickes schoole,
In other artes, proues commonly a foole.
That makes one mad ere he attaine the same?
I take it so, and this belieue me now,
Who seekes himselfe to Musikes arte to frame,
And very young is set to Musickes schoole,
In other artes, proues commonly a foole.
It is a sport of troth sometime to see,
A right Musition in his formall grace:
How he can looke, as if it were not he,
Especially, when that he is in place.
Whereas he thinkes himselfe to be the best:
For pride or praise, how he can straine his brest.
A right Musition in his formall grace:
How he can looke, as if it were not he,
Especially, when that he is in place.
Whereas he thinkes himselfe to be the best:
For pride or praise, how he can straine his brest.
But if there come another into place,
Better then he, then downe his feathers fall:
Then Frauncis Fidler, with his formall face,
Shrinketh aside, and gets him next the wall.
And for a pound, he sings not one Note more,
Where comes a better then he was before:
Better then he, then downe his feathers fall:
Then Frauncis Fidler, with his formall face,
Shrinketh aside, and gets him next the wall.
Where comes a better then he was before:
But what? me thinkes that some begins to frowne,
To write so much in Fidlers foule dispraise:
Why, if there be some such odde fidling Clowne,
As plaies at Hertford on the Hollidayes:
And takes the matter so much in disgrace:
For all his Fidle, fart in his fooles face.
To write so much in Fidlers foule dispraise:
Why, if there be some such odde fidling Clowne,
As plaies at Hertford on the Hollidayes:
And takes the matter so much in disgrace:
For all his Fidle, fart in his fooles face.
For such Musitions makes some Minions meete,
With their sweete harts on some vngratious greene:
Where after each hath other friendly greete,
Somewhat haps else that may not there be seene.
As bargaines made, that must be greed vpon,
Behinde some bush, when all the crue is gone.
With their sweete harts on some vngratious greene:
Where after each hath other friendly greete,
Somewhat haps else that may not there be seene.
As bargaines made, that must be greed vpon,
Behinde some bush, when all the crue is gone.
But let me leaue off lowtish Musicke now,
To write more wordes, and let me somewhat say
Of Courtly Musicke, which I say to you,
I cannot well reproue in any way.
Although perhaps some wantons thereby finde,
A time to play the wantons in their kinde.
To write more wordes, and let me somewhat say
Of Courtly Musicke, which I say to you,
I cannot well reproue in any way.
Although perhaps some wantons thereby finde,
A time to play the wantons in their kinde.
I meane no harme in that I say in kinde,
For wantonnes and wickednes are two:
Tis not the grace in any, but the minde,
That mooues a man, or good or bad to doe.
A merry minde a gentle nature showes:
When sullen lookes are signes of surle shrowes.
For wantonnes and wickednes are two:
Tis not the grace in any, but the minde,
That mooues a man, or good or bad to doe.
A merry minde a gentle nature showes:
When sullen lookes are signes of surle shrowes.
And yet doo some perhaps, in dauncing deeme,
That Louers then haue time of great delight,
But if two loue one Lady, it must seeme,
The ones delight, the others great despight.
And if but one, yet then his present ioy:
May turne in time vnto as great annoy.
That Louers then haue time of great delight,
But if two loue one Lady, it must seeme,
The ones delight, the others great despight.
And if but one, yet then his present ioy:
May turne in time vnto as great annoy.
For then perhaps he reapes good countenance,
Good wordes, and more, perhaps with all good will:
Besides, he hath good licence in his Daunce,
Without suspect to looke and talke his fill.
And to receiue great fauour of his friend,
Which when his daunce is done, are all at end.
Good wordes, and more, perhaps with all good will:
Besides, he hath good licence in his Daunce,
Without suspect to looke and talke his fill.
Which when his daunce is done, are all at end.
And then (alas) consider what despight
He bides, to thinke vpon his pleasures past:
And sees againe, his sweete and whole delight,
With posting speede to fade away so fast,
No greater griefe I thinke can fertune frame:
Then win delight, and then to loose the same.
He bides, to thinke vpon his pleasures past:
And sees againe, his sweete and whole delight,
With posting speede to fade away so fast,
No greater griefe I thinke can fertune frame:
Then win delight, and then to loose the same.
| The paine of pleasure | |