FOOTNOTES:

“Down in a vale on a summer’s day,All the lads and lasses met to be merry;A match for kisses at stool-ball to play,And for cakes, and ale, and sider, and perry.Chorus—Come all, great, small, short, tall, away to stool-ball.”

“Down in a vale on a summer’s day,All the lads and lasses met to be merry;A match for kisses at stool-ball to play,And for cakes, and ale, and sider, and perry.

Chorus—Come all, great, small, short, tall, away to stool-ball.”

Strutt informs us that this game, as played in the north, “consists in simply setting a stool upon the ground, and one of the players takes his place before it, while his antagonist, standing at a distance, tosses a ball with the intention of striking the stool; and this is the business of the former to prevent by beating it away with the hand, reckoning one to the game for every stroke of the ball; if, on the contrary, it should be missed by the hand and touch the stool, the players change places. The conqueror is he who strikes the ball most times before it touches the stool.”

Tennis.According to a story told by the old annalists, one of the most interesting historical events in connection with this game happened when Henry V. was meditating war against France. “The Dolphin,” says Hall in his “Chronicle,” “thynkyng King Henry to be given still to such plaies and lyght folies as he exercised and used before the tyme that he was exalted to the Croune, sent to hym a tunne of tennis balles to plaie with, as who saied that he had better skill of tennis than of warre.” On the foundation of this incident, as told by Holinshed, Shakespeare has constructed his fine scene of the French Ambassadors’ audience in “Henry V.” (i. 2). As soon as the first Ambassador has given the Dauphin’s message and insulting gift, the English king speaks thus:

“We are glad the Dauphin is so pleasant with us;His present and your pains we thank you for:When we have match’d our rackets to these balls,We will, in France, by God’s grace, play a setShall strike his father’s crown into the hazard.Tell him, he hath made a match with such a wranglerThat all the courts of France will be disturb’dWith chases.”

In “Hamlet” (ii. 1), Polonius speaks of this pastime, and alludes to “falling out at tennis.” In the sixteenth century tennis-courts were common in England, and the establishment of such places was countenanced by the example of royalty. It is evident that Henry VII. was a tennis-player. In a MS. register of his expenditures, made in the thirteenth year of his reign, this entry occurs: “Item, for the king’s loss at tennis, twelvepence; for the loss of balls, threepence.” Stow, in his “Survey of London,” tells us that among the additions that King Henry VIII. made to Whitehall, were “divers fair tennis-courts, bowling-allies, and a cock-pit.” Charles II. frequently diverted himself with playing at tennis, and had a particular kind of dress made for that purpose. Pericles, when he is shipwrecked and cast upon the coast of Pentapolis, addresses himself and the three fishermen whom he chances to meet thus (“Pericles,” ii. 1):

“A man whom both the waters and the wind,In that vast tennis-court, have made the ballFor them to play upon, entreats you pity him.”

In “Much Ado About Nothing” (iii. 2), Claudio, referring to Benedick, says: “the old ornament of his cheek hath already stuffed tennis-balls;”[819]and in “Henry V.” (iii. 7), the Dauphin says his horse “bounds from the earth as if his entrails were hairs.” Again, “bandy” was originally a term at tennis, to which Juliet refers in “Romeo and Juliet” (ii. 5), when speaking of her Nurse:

“Had she affections, and warm youthful blood,She’d be as swift in motion as a ball;My words would bandy her to my sweet love,And his to me.”

Also, King Lear (i. 4) says to Oswald: “Do you bandy looks with me, you rascal?”

Tick-tack.This was a sort of backgammon, and is alluded to by Lucio in “Measure for Measure” (i. 2) who, referring to Claudio’s unpleasant predicament, says: “I would be sorry should be thus foolishly lost at a game of tick-tack.” In Weaver’s “Lusty Juventus,” Hipocrisye, seeing Lusty Juventus kiss Abhominable Lyuing, says:

“What a hurly burly is here!Smicke smacke, and all thys gere!You well [will] totycke take, I fere,If thou had tyme.”[820]

“Jouer au tric-trac” is used, too, in France in a wanton sense.

Tray-trip.This was probably a game at cards, played with dice as well as with cards, the success in which chiefly depended upon the throwing of treys. Thus, in a satire called “Machivell’s Dog” (1617):

“But, leaving cardes, lets go to dice a while,To passage, treitrippe, hazarde, or mumchance.”

In “Twelfth Night” (ii. 5). Sir Toby Belch asks: “Shall I play my freedom at tray-trip, and become thy bond-slave?” It may be remembered, too, that in “The Scornful Lady” of Beaumont and Fletcher (ii. 1), the Chaplain complains that the Butler had broken his head, and being asked the reason, says, for

“Reproving him at tra-trip, sir, for swearing.”

Some are of opinion that it resembled the game of hopscotch, or Scotch-hop; but this, says Nares,[821]“seems to rest merely upon unauthorized conjecture.”

Troll-my-dame.The game of Troll-madam, still familiaras Bagatelle, was borrowed from the French (Trou-madame). One of its names was Pigeon-holes, because played on a board, at one end of which were a number of arches, like pigeon-holes, into which small balls had to be bowled. In “Winter’s Tale” (iv. 2), it is mentioned by Autolycus, who, in answer to the Clown, says that the manner of fellow that robbed him was one that he had “known to go about with troll-my-dames.” Cotgrave declares it as “the game called Trunkes, or the Hole.”

Trump.This was probably thetriumfoof the Italians, and thetriompheof the French—being perhaps of equal antiquity in England withprimero. At the latter end of the sixteenth century it was very common among the inferior classes. There is, no doubt, a particular allusion to this game in “Antony and Cleopatra” (iv. 14), where Antony says:

“the queen—Whose heart I thought I had, for she had mine;Which, whilst it was mine, had annex’d unto’tA million more, now lost—she, Eros, hasPack’d cards with Cæsar, and false-play’d my gloryUnto an enemy’s triumph.”

The poet meant to say, that Cleopatra, by collusion, played the great game they were engaged in falsely, so as to sacrifice Antony’s fame to that of his enemy. There is an equivoque betweentrumpandtriumph. The game in question bore a very strong resemblance to our modern whist—the only points of dissimilarity being that more or less than four persons might play at trump; that all the cards were not dealt out; and that the dealer had the privilege of discarding some, and taking others in from the stock. In Eliot’s “Fruits for the French,” 1593, it is called “a very common ale-house game in England.”

Wrestling.Of the many allusions that are given by Shakespeare to this pastime, we may quote the phrase “to catch on the hip,” made use of by Shylock in the “Merchant of Venice” (i. 3), who, speaking of Antonio, says,

“If I can catch him once upon the hip,I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him”

—the meaning being, “to have at an entire advantage.”[822]The expression occurs again in “Othello” (ii. 1), where Iago says:

“I’ll have our Michael Cassio on the hip.”

Nares,[823]however, considers the phrase was derived from hunting; because, “when the animal pursued is seized upon the hip, it is finally disabled from flight.”

In “As You Like It” (ii. 3), where Adam speaks of the “bonny priser of the humorous duke,” Singer considers that apriserwas the phrase for a wrestler, aprisebeing a term in that sport for a grappling or hold taken.

FOOTNOTES:[764]See Drake’s “Shakespeare and His Times,” vol. ii. pp. 178-181.[765]Brand’s “Pop. Antiq.,” 1870, vol. ii. p. 290.[766]“Glossary,” p. 84.[767]“Glossary,” p. 210.[768]From Gifford’s Note on Massinger’s Works, 1813, vol. i. p. 104.[769]See Jamieson’s “Scottish Dictionary,” 1879, vol. i. p. 122.[770]“Glossary,” vol. i. p. 57.[771]Ibid. vol. i. p. 58.[772]“Sports and Pastimes,” 1876, p. 143.[773]“Glossary,” pp. 29, 30.[774]See Harting’s “Ornithology of Shakespeare,” p. 156; Strutt’s “Sports and Pastimes,” 1876, p. 98. A simple mode of bat-fowling, by means of a large clap-net and a lantern, and called bird-batting, is alluded to in Fielding’s “Joseph Andrews” (bk. ii. chap. x.). Drake thinks that it is to a stratagem of this kind Shakespeare alludes when he paints Buckingham exclaiming (“Henry VIII.” i. 1):“The net has fall’n upon me; I shall perishUnder device and practice.”[775]Strutt’s “Sports and Pastimes,” 1876, p. 396.[776]A pip is a spot upon a card.[777]“Sports and Pastimes,” 1876, p. 436.[778]“Illustrations of Shakespeare,” p. 405.[779]Rub is still a term at the game, expressive of the movement of the balls. Cf. “King Lear” (ii. 2), and “Love’s Labour’s Lost” (iv. 1), where Boyet, speaking of the game, says: “I fear too much rubbing.”[780]Halliwell-Phillipps’ “Handbook Index to Shakespeare,” p. 43.[781]Staunton’s “Shakespeare,” vol. iii. p. 592.[782]See Brand’s “Pop. Antiq.,” vol. ii. p. 409.[783]She means, “Do you intend to make a mockery of me among these companions?”[784]“Illustrations of Shakspeare,” p. 20.[785]Gifford’s note on Jonson’s Works, vol. ii. p. 3.[786]Ibid., vol. vii. p. 283.[787]See Douce’s “Illustrations of Shakespeare,” p. 35.[788]See Nares’s “Glossary,” vol. ii. p. 919.[789]A three-man beetle is a heavy implement, with three handles, used in driving piles, etc., which required three men to lift it.[790]A correspondent of “Notes and Queries,” 2d series, vol. vii. p. 277, suggests as a derivation the Germanschnapps, spirit, anddrache, dragon, and that it is equivalent to spirit-fire.[791]Cf. “Winter’s Tale” (iii. 3): “But to make an end of the ship,—to see how the sea flap-dragoned it.”[792]See Nares’s “Glossary,” vol. i. p. 131.[793]“Sports and Pastimes,” pp. 168, 169.[794]See “British Popular Customs,” 1876, pp. 78, 83, 87, 401.[795]“Shakespeare and his Times,” vol. ii. p. 170; see Douce’s “Illustrations of Shakspeare,” pp. 118, 435.[796]Dyce’s “Glossary,” p. 199.[797]See Brand’s “Pop. Antiq.,” 1849, vol. ii. p. 420.[798]See Strutt’s “Sports and Pastimes,” pp. 499, 500; Brand’s “Pop. Antiq.,” 1849, vol. ii. pp. 397, 398.[799]“Anatomy of Melancholy;” Drake’s “Shakespeare and His Times,” vol. ii. p. 298.[800]Clark and Wright’s “Notes to Hamlet,” 1876, pp. 212, 213.[801]See Strutt’s “Sports and Pastimes,” p. 365; Nares’s “Glossary,” vol. ii. p. 522.[802]Baker’s “Northamptonshire Glossary,” 1854, vol. i. p. 198.[803]See Dyce’s “Glossary,” p. 134.[804]Douce’s “Illustrations of Shakespeare,” p. 144.[805]See Nares’s “Glossary,” vol. ii. p. 605.[806]See Strutt’s “Sports and Pastimes,” 1876, pp. 368, 369.[807]See Brand’s “Pop. Antiq.,” 1849, vol. ii. pp. 429, 432.[808]See Nares’s “Glossary,” vol. ii. p. 606.[809]“Pictorial Shakespeare,” vol. ii. p. 145.[810]“Sports and Pastimes.”[811]Smith’s “Festivals, Games, and Amusements,” 1831, p. 320.[812]“Sports and Pastimes,” 1876, p. 182.[813]See Nares’s “Glossary,” vol. ii. p. 713.[814]“Sports and Pastimes,” p. 141.[815]See Milner’s “History of Winchester,” vol. ii. p. 155.[816]According to Douce, “Illustrations of Shakespeare” (1839, p. 280), it was known as “slide-groat,” “slide-board,” “slide-thrift,” and “slip-thrift.” See Strutt’s “Sports and Pastimes,” 1876, pp. 16, 394, 398; Nares’s “Glossary,” vol. ii. p. 791; Brand’s “Pop. Antiq.,” 1849, vol. ii. p. 441.[817]See Strutt’s “Sports and Pastimes,” 1876, p. 491.[818]Quoted by Strutt, “Sports and Pastimes,” p. 166.[819]In “Love’s Labour’s Lost” (v. 2), the Princess speaks of “a set of wit well play’d;” upon which Mr. Singer (“Shakespeare,” vol. ii. p. 263) adds that “a set is a term at tennis for a game.”[820]Quoted by Dyce’s “Glossary,” p. 449; see Brand’s “Pop. Antiq.,” 1849, vol. ii. p. 445.[821]“Glossary,” vol. ii. p. 896.[822]Dyce’s “Glossary,” p. 208.[823]“Glossary,” vol. i. p. 421.

[764]See Drake’s “Shakespeare and His Times,” vol. ii. pp. 178-181.

[765]Brand’s “Pop. Antiq.,” 1870, vol. ii. p. 290.

[766]“Glossary,” p. 84.

[767]“Glossary,” p. 210.

[768]From Gifford’s Note on Massinger’s Works, 1813, vol. i. p. 104.

[769]See Jamieson’s “Scottish Dictionary,” 1879, vol. i. p. 122.

[770]“Glossary,” vol. i. p. 57.

[771]Ibid. vol. i. p. 58.

[772]“Sports and Pastimes,” 1876, p. 143.

[773]“Glossary,” pp. 29, 30.

[774]See Harting’s “Ornithology of Shakespeare,” p. 156; Strutt’s “Sports and Pastimes,” 1876, p. 98. A simple mode of bat-fowling, by means of a large clap-net and a lantern, and called bird-batting, is alluded to in Fielding’s “Joseph Andrews” (bk. ii. chap. x.). Drake thinks that it is to a stratagem of this kind Shakespeare alludes when he paints Buckingham exclaiming (“Henry VIII.” i. 1):“The net has fall’n upon me; I shall perishUnder device and practice.”

“The net has fall’n upon me; I shall perishUnder device and practice.”

[775]Strutt’s “Sports and Pastimes,” 1876, p. 396.

[776]A pip is a spot upon a card.

[777]“Sports and Pastimes,” 1876, p. 436.

[778]“Illustrations of Shakespeare,” p. 405.

[779]Rub is still a term at the game, expressive of the movement of the balls. Cf. “King Lear” (ii. 2), and “Love’s Labour’s Lost” (iv. 1), where Boyet, speaking of the game, says: “I fear too much rubbing.”

[780]Halliwell-Phillipps’ “Handbook Index to Shakespeare,” p. 43.

[781]Staunton’s “Shakespeare,” vol. iii. p. 592.

[782]See Brand’s “Pop. Antiq.,” vol. ii. p. 409.

[783]She means, “Do you intend to make a mockery of me among these companions?”

[784]“Illustrations of Shakspeare,” p. 20.

[785]Gifford’s note on Jonson’s Works, vol. ii. p. 3.

[786]Ibid., vol. vii. p. 283.

[787]See Douce’s “Illustrations of Shakespeare,” p. 35.

[788]See Nares’s “Glossary,” vol. ii. p. 919.

[789]A three-man beetle is a heavy implement, with three handles, used in driving piles, etc., which required three men to lift it.

[790]A correspondent of “Notes and Queries,” 2d series, vol. vii. p. 277, suggests as a derivation the Germanschnapps, spirit, anddrache, dragon, and that it is equivalent to spirit-fire.

[791]Cf. “Winter’s Tale” (iii. 3): “But to make an end of the ship,—to see how the sea flap-dragoned it.”

[792]See Nares’s “Glossary,” vol. i. p. 131.

[793]“Sports and Pastimes,” pp. 168, 169.

[794]See “British Popular Customs,” 1876, pp. 78, 83, 87, 401.

[795]“Shakespeare and his Times,” vol. ii. p. 170; see Douce’s “Illustrations of Shakspeare,” pp. 118, 435.

[796]Dyce’s “Glossary,” p. 199.

[797]See Brand’s “Pop. Antiq.,” 1849, vol. ii. p. 420.

[798]See Strutt’s “Sports and Pastimes,” pp. 499, 500; Brand’s “Pop. Antiq.,” 1849, vol. ii. pp. 397, 398.

[799]“Anatomy of Melancholy;” Drake’s “Shakespeare and His Times,” vol. ii. p. 298.

[800]Clark and Wright’s “Notes to Hamlet,” 1876, pp. 212, 213.

[801]See Strutt’s “Sports and Pastimes,” p. 365; Nares’s “Glossary,” vol. ii. p. 522.

[802]Baker’s “Northamptonshire Glossary,” 1854, vol. i. p. 198.

[803]See Dyce’s “Glossary,” p. 134.

[804]Douce’s “Illustrations of Shakespeare,” p. 144.

[805]See Nares’s “Glossary,” vol. ii. p. 605.

[806]See Strutt’s “Sports and Pastimes,” 1876, pp. 368, 369.

[807]See Brand’s “Pop. Antiq.,” 1849, vol. ii. pp. 429, 432.

[808]See Nares’s “Glossary,” vol. ii. p. 606.

[809]“Pictorial Shakespeare,” vol. ii. p. 145.

[810]“Sports and Pastimes.”

[811]Smith’s “Festivals, Games, and Amusements,” 1831, p. 320.

[812]“Sports and Pastimes,” 1876, p. 182.

[813]See Nares’s “Glossary,” vol. ii. p. 713.

[814]“Sports and Pastimes,” p. 141.

[815]See Milner’s “History of Winchester,” vol. ii. p. 155.

[816]According to Douce, “Illustrations of Shakespeare” (1839, p. 280), it was known as “slide-groat,” “slide-board,” “slide-thrift,” and “slip-thrift.” See Strutt’s “Sports and Pastimes,” 1876, pp. 16, 394, 398; Nares’s “Glossary,” vol. ii. p. 791; Brand’s “Pop. Antiq.,” 1849, vol. ii. p. 441.

[817]See Strutt’s “Sports and Pastimes,” 1876, p. 491.

[818]Quoted by Strutt, “Sports and Pastimes,” p. 166.

[819]In “Love’s Labour’s Lost” (v. 2), the Princess speaks of “a set of wit well play’d;” upon which Mr. Singer (“Shakespeare,” vol. ii. p. 263) adds that “a set is a term at tennis for a game.”

[820]Quoted by Dyce’s “Glossary,” p. 449; see Brand’s “Pop. Antiq.,” 1849, vol. ii. p. 445.

[821]“Glossary,” vol. ii. p. 896.

[822]Dyce’s “Glossary,” p. 208.

[823]“Glossary,” vol. i. p. 421.

Weare indebted to Shakespeare for having bequeathed to us many interesting allusions to some of the old dances in use in his day, but which have long ago passed into oblivion. As will be seen, these were of a very diverse character, but, as has been remarked, were well suited to the merry doings of our forefathers; and although in some cases they justly merited censure for their extravagant nature, yet the greater part of these sources of diversion were harmless. Indeed, no more pleasing picture can be imagined than that of a rustic sheep-shearing gathering in the olden times, when, the work over, the peasantry joined together in some simple dance, each one vieing with his neighbor to perform his part with as much grace as possible.

Antic.This was a grotesque dance. In “Macbeth” (iv. 1), the witch, perceiving how Macbeth is affected by the horrible apparitions which he has seen, says to her sisters:

“Come, sisters, cheer we up his sprites,And show the best of our delights.I’ll charm the air to give a sound,While you perform your antic round.”

To quote another instance, Armado, in “Love’s Labour’s Lost” (v. 1), says:

“We will have, if this fadge not, an antique.”

Bergomask Dance.According to Sir Thomas Hanmer, this was a dance after the manner of the peasants of Bergomasco, a county in Italy belonging to the Venetians. All the buffoons in Italy affected to imitate the ridiculous jargon of that people, and from thence it became customary to mimic also their manner of dancing. In “A Midsummer-Night’sDream” (v. 1), Bottom asks Theseus whether he would like “to hear a Bergomask dance,” between two of their company.

Brawl.This was a kind of dance. It appears that several persons united hands in a circle, and gave one another continual shakes, the steps changing with the tune. With this dance balls were usually opened.[824]Kissing was occasionally introduced. In “Love’s Labour’s Lost” (iii. 1), Moth asks his master: “Will you win your love with a French brawl.”

Canary.This was the name of a sprightly dance, the music to which consisted of two strains with eight bars in each; an allusion to which is made by Moth in “Love’s Labour’s Lost” (iii. 1), who speaks of jigging off a tune at the tongue’s end, and canarying to it with the feet. And in “All’s Well that End’s Well” (ii. 1), Lafeu tells the king that he has seen a medicine

“that’s able to breathe life into a stone,Quicken a rock, and make you dance canaryWith spritely fire and motion.”

This dance is said to have originated in the Canary Islands, an opinion, however, which has, says Dyce, been disputed.[825]

Cinque-pace.This was so named from its steps being regulated by the number five:

“Five was the number of the music’s feet,Which still the dance did with five paces meet.”[826]

In “Much Ado About Nothing” (ii. 1), Shakespeare makes Beatrice make a quibble upon the term; for after comparing wooing, wedding, and repenting to a Scotch jig, a measure, and a cinque-pace, she says: “then comes repentance, and,with his bad legs, falls into the cinque-pace faster and faster, till he sink into his grave.” A further reference occurs in “Twelfth Night” (i. 3), by Sir Toby Belch, who calls it a “sink-a-pace.”

Coranto.An allusion to this dance, which appears to have been of a very lively and rapid character, is made in “Henry V.” (iii. 5), where the Duke of Bourbon describes it as the “swift coranto;” and in “All’s Well that Ends Well” (ii. 3) Lafeu refers to it. A further notice of it occurs in “Twelfth Night” (i. 3), in the passage where Sir Toby Belch speaks of “coming home in a coranto.”

Fading.Malone quotes a passage from “Sportive Wit,” 1666, which implies that this was a rustic dance:

“The courtiers scorn us country clowns,We country clowns do scorn the court;We can be as merry upon the downsAs you at midnight with all your sport,With afading, with afading.”

It would appear, also, from a letter appended to Boswell’s edition of Malone, that it was an Irish dance, and that it was practised, upon rejoicing occasions, as recently as 1803, the date of the letter:

“This dance is still practised on rejoicing occasions in many parts of Ireland; a king and queen are chosen from amongst the young persons who are the best dancers; the queen carries a garland composed of two hoops placed at right angles, and fastened to a handle; the hoops are covered with flowers and ribbons; you have seen it, I dare say, with the May-maids. Frequently in the course of the dance the king and queen lift up their joined hands as high as they can, she still holding the garland in the other. The most remote couple from the king and queen first pass under; all the rest of the line linked together follow in succession. When the last has passed, the king and queen suddenly face about and front their companions; this is often repeated during the dance, and the various undulations are pretty enough, resembling the movements of a serpent. The dancers on the first ofMay visit such newly wedded pairs of a certain rank as have been married since last May-day in the neighborhood, who commonly bestow on them a stuffed ball richly decked with gold and silver lace, and accompanied with a present in money, to regale themselves after the dance. This dance is practised when the bonfires are lighted up, the queen hailing the return of summer in a popular Irish song beginning:

‘We lead on summer—see! she follows in our train.’”

In the “Winter’s Tale” (iv. 4), Shakespeare seems to allude to this dance where he makes the servant, speaking of the pedler, say: “he has the prettiest love songs for maids; so without bawdry, which is strange; with such delicate burdens of ‘dildos’ and ‘fadings.’” Some commentators,[827]however, consider that only the song is meant.

Hay.Douce[828]says this dance was borrowed by us from the French, and is classed among the “brawls” in Thoinot Arbeau’s “Orchesographie” (1588). In “Love’s Labour’s Lost” (v. 1), Dull says: “I will play on tabor to the Worthies, and let them dance their hay.”

Jig.Besides meaning a merry, sprightly dance, a jig also implied a coarse sort of comic entertainment, in which sense it is probably used by Hamlet (ii. 2): “He’s for a jig or a tale of bawdry.” “It seems,” says Mr. Collier,[829]“to have been a ludicrous composition in rhyme, sung, or said, by the clown, and accompanied by dancing and playing upon the pipe and tabor.”[830]an instance of which perhaps occurs in the Clown’s song at the close of “Twelfth Night:”

“When that I was and a little tiny boy.”

Fletcher, in the Prologue to the “Fair Maid of the Inn,”says:

“A jig should be clapt at, and every rhymePraised and applauded by a clamorous chime.”

Among the allusions to this dance we may quote one in “Much Ado About Nothing” (ii. 1), where Beatrice compares wooing to a Scotch jig; and another in “Twelfth Night” (i. 3), where Sir Toby Belch says, his “very walk should be a jig.”

Lavolta.According to Florio, the lavolta is a kind of turning French dance, in which the man turns the woman round several times, and then assists her in making a high spring orcabriole. It is thus described by Sir John Davies:

“Yet is there one the most delightful kind.A loftie jumping, or a leaping round,Where arme in arme two dauncers are entwined,And whirle themselves, with strict embracements bound;And still their feet an anapest do sound,An anapest is all their musicks song,Whose first two feet are short, and third is long.”

Douce,[831]however, considers it to be of Italian origin, and says, “It passed from Italy into Provence and the rest of France, and thence into England.” Scot, too, in his “Discovery of Witchcraft,” thus speaks of it: “He saith, that these night-walking, or rather night-dancing, witches, brought out of Italie into France that dance which is calledla Volta.” Shakespeare, in his “Henry V.” (iii. 5), makes the Duke of Bourbon allude to it:

“They bid us to the English dancing-schools,And teach lavoltas high, and swift corantos.”

Again, in “Troilus and Cressida” (iv. 4), Troilus says:

“I cannot sing,Nor heel the high lavolt.”

Light o’ Love.This was an old dance tune, and was aproverbial expression for levity, especially in love matters.[832]In “Much Ado About Nothing” (iii. 4), Margaret says: “Clap’s into ‘Light o’ love;’ that goes without a burden; do you sing it, and I’ll dance it;” to which Beatrice answers: “Yea, light o’ love, with your heels.”

In “Two Gentlemen of Verona” (i. 2), it is alluded to:

“Julia.Best sing it to the tune of ‘Light o’ love.’Lucetta.It is too heavy for so light a tune.”

“Julia.Best sing it to the tune of ‘Light o’ love.’

Lucetta.It is too heavy for so light a tune.”

In the “Two Noble Kinsmen” (v. 2), we read:

“He’ll dance the morris twenty mile an hour.And gallops to the tune of ‘Light o’ love.’”

And in Beaumont and Fletcher’s “Chances” (i. 3), Frederic says: “Sure he has encounter’d some light-o’-love or other.”

Pavan.This was a grave and majestic dance, in which the gentlemen wore their caps, swords, and mantles, and the ladies their long robes and trains. The dancers stepped round the room and then crossed in the middle, trailing their garments on the ground, “the motion whereof,” says Sir J. Hawkins, “resembled that of a peacock’s tail.” It is alluded to in “Twelfth Night” (v. 1) by Sir Toby: “A passy-measures pavin,” although the reading of this passage is uncertain, the editors of the “Globe” edition substitutingpanyn.

It has been conjectured that the “passy-measure galliard,” and the “passy-measure pavan” were only two different measures of the same dance, from the Italianpassamezzo.[833]

Roundel.This was also called the “round,” a dance of a circular kind, and is probably referred to by Titania in “A Midsummer-Night’s Dream” (ii. 2), where she says to her train:[834]

“Come now, a roundel and a fairy song.”

Ben Jonson, in the “Tale of a Tub,”[835]seems to call the rings,which such fairy dances are supposed to make,roundels.

“I’ll have no roundels, I, in the queen’s paths.”

Satyrs’ Dance.A dance of satyrs was a not uncommon entertainment in Shakespeare’s day, or even at an earlier period.[836]It was not confined to England, and has been rendered memorable by the fearful accident with which it was accompanied at the Court of France in 1392, a graphic description of which has been recorded by Froissart. In the “Winter’s Tale” (iv. 4), the satyrs’ dance is alluded to by the Servant, who says: “Master, there is three carters, three shepherds, three neat-herds, three swine-herds, that have made themselves all men of hair; they call themselves Saltiers: and they have a dance which the wenches say is a gallimaufry of gambols, because they are not in’t.” In a book of songs composed by Thomas Ravenscroft and others, in the time of Shakespeare, we find one[837]called the “Satyres’ daunce.” It is for four voices, and is as follows:

“Round a round, a rounda, keepe your ringTo the glorious sunne we sing.Hoe, hoe!He that weares the flaming rayes,And the imperiall crowne of bayes,Him with shoutes and songs we praise.Hoe, hoe!That in his bountee would vouchsafe to graceThe humble sylvanes and their shaggy race.”

“Round a round, a rounda, keepe your ringTo the glorious sunne we sing.Hoe, hoe!

He that weares the flaming rayes,And the imperiall crowne of bayes,Him with shoutes and songs we praise.Hoe, hoe!

That in his bountee would vouchsafe to graceThe humble sylvanes and their shaggy race.”

Sword-dance.In olden times there were several kinds of sword-dances, most of which afforded opportunities for the display of skill. In “Antony and Cleopatra” (iii. 11), there seems to be an allusion to this custom, where Antony,speaking of Cæsar, says:[838]

“he, at Philippi, keptHis sword e’en like a dancer.”

And in “All’s Well that Ends Well” (ii. 1), where Bertram, lamenting that he is kept from the wars, adds:

“I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock,Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry,Till honour be bought up, and no sword wornBut one to dance with.”

In “Titus Andronicus” (ii. 1), too, Demetrius says to Chiron:

“Why, boy, although our mother, unadvis’dGave you a dancing-rapier by your side.”

Tread a Measure, to which the King refers in “Love’s Labour’s Lost” (v. 2), when he tells Boyet to tell Rosaline

“we have measur’d many miles,To tread a measure with her on this grass,”

was a grave solemn dance, with slow and measured steps, like the minuet. As it was of so solemn a nature, it was performed[839]at public entertainments in the Inns of Court, and it was “not unusual, nor thought inconsistent, for the first characters in the law to bear a part in treading a measure.”

Trip and Gowas the name of a favorite morris-dance, and appears, says Mr. Chappell, in his “Popular Music of the Olden Times,” etc. (2d edition, vol. i. p. 131), to have become a proverbial expression. It is used in “Love’s Labour’s Lost” (iv. 2).

Up-spring.From the following passage, in Chapman’s “Alphonsus, Emperor of Germany,” it would seem thatthis was a German dance:

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