for fear he should offer to copy them for me out, and so I be forced to give or lend him something.[1]
It is not surprising that under these circumstances music seems, to Pepys, the least costly of pleasures.[2] Nor is it surprising that musicians should die of starvation in this England, where all declare themselves to be passionate lovers of music. They are in the position of those itinerant players who give their performance before a country crowd. The yokels look on and laugh—and turn away when the collection is made.
Mr. Kingston the organist … says many of the musique are ready to starve, they being five years behind-hand for their wages; nay, Evens, the famous man upon the Harp, having not his equal in the world, did the other day die for mere want, and was fain to be buried at the alms of the parish, and carried to his grave in the dark at night without one linke, but that Mr. Kingston met it by chance, and did give 12d. to buy two or three links.[3]
***
This is enough already to enlighten us as to the superficiality of the English passion for music. We shall be still further enlightened when we have done our best to understand Pepys' musical judgments and to ascertain the limits of his taste. How narrow the man is!
Pepys does not care for the old style of singing.[4] Nor does he care for part-singing:
I am more and more confirmed that singing with many voices is not singing, but a sort of instrumental musique, the sense of the words being lost by not being heard, and especially as they set them with Fuges of words, one after another, whereas singing proper, I think, should be but with one or two voices at most and the counterpart.[5]
