Sunday, August 16, 2009

Midnight Reading: Such Gallant Chiding

I've written before about that wonderful bit in Midsummer Night's Dream where Theseus and Hyppolyta slang each other over the power and musicality of their hounds (cf. Yowp Yowp Yowp Yowp Yowp, link, with edifying insights into the matter of basset poop).

Anyway, looking for something to put myself back to sleep with last night, I read the footnotes in my Arden Edition (the 1979 version, Harold F. Brooks, ed., I believe there is a newer). Imagine my surprise to learn that choral singing in the hound pack qualified, in Shakespeare's time, as a kind of art form. Here is Gervase Markham, in Country Contentments (1615--quoted in fn. 105 of Brooks, p. 92-3):
If you would have your kennell for sweetness of cry, then you must compound it of some large dogges, that have deepe solemne mouthes, and are swift in spending [sc. quick to give tongue], which must, as it were, beare the base of the consort, then a double number of roaring, and loud ringing mouthes, which must beare the counter-tenour; then some hollow, plaine, sweet mouthes, which must bear the meane or middle part; and soe with these partes of musicke you shall make your cry perfect.
Brooks' notes also provide enlightening support for another great Shakespearean theme: the idea of Shakespeare as the great responder, a creature of his time who makes richer the richness that he finds there. We find strands for the fabric in Chaucer (mainly) but also in Sir Philip Sydney (of course) Arthur Golding (tracking Ovid).

1 comment:

elrojo said...

i dont coon hunt but some of my neighbors do and i allow one fellow to coon hunt on my farm, starting on the north side and going through woods and a branch that cuts through the farm. the hounds are blue ticks and they each have a distinctive sound. I only hear them for a minute or two because when my dogs -- great pyrenees -- hear them they sound off and being in the barn lots they drown the distant coon hounds out.