¹ Letter to Dudley Carleton, 2 October 1602. The National Archives, State Papers 12/285 fol. 47^v. See N. E. McClure, The Letters of John Chamberlain, vol. 1 (Philadelphia, 1939), p. 160.

² This entertainment was first brought to light and attributed to Lyly in Queen Elizabeth's Entertainment at Mitcham, ed. L. Hotson (New Haven, 1953), pp. 33–6. Notwithstanding the title, the Entertainment at Chiswick is also included. See also L. Scragg, ‘Angling for Answers: Looking for Lyly in the 1590s’, Review of English Studies, 67 (2015), pp. 237–49.

³ See, in particular, G. Heaton, ‘Elizabethan Entertainments in Manuscript: The Harefield Festivities (1602) and the Dynamics of Exchange’, in J. E. Archer, Elizabeth Goldring, and S. Knight (eds.), The Progresses, Pageants, and Entertainments of Queen Elizabeth I (Oxford, 2007), pp. 227–44. See also J. Wilson, ‘The Harefield Entertainment and the Cult of Elizabeth’, Antiquaries Journal, 66 (1986), pp. 315–29; G. Heaton, Writing and Reading Royal Entertainments (Oxford, 2010), pp. 100–16; and E. Z. Kolkovich, The Elizabethan Country House Entertainment (Cambridge, 2016), pp. 87–122.

⁴ A letter written on 6 August from the Earl of Northumberland to Lord Cobham notes that Clarke ‘neither gives meat nor money to any of the progressors’. See The National Archives, State Papers 12/284/96.

⁵ Lambeth Palace Library, MS 3203, fol. 70^r. See E. Lodge, Illustrations of British History, Biography, and Manners, vol. 3 (London, 1791), p. 135.

⁶ From a letter written by the Jesuit Father Rivers (a pseudonym, probably for William Sterrell), to Ridolfo Perino (a pseudonym for Father Robert Persons), on 30 June. Westminster Archdiocesan Archive, vii, 49. See Records of the English Province of the Society of Jesus, vol. 1 (London, 1877), p. 41. On the identities of Father Rivers and Ridolfo Perino, see P. Martin and J. Finnis, ‘The Identity of “Anthony Rivers”’, Recusant History 26 (2002), pp. 39–74. An earlier candidate for Father Rivers was Cecil's fired secretary Simon Willis, on whose dismissal, see below. On Willis as Rivers, see F. Edwards, S.J., Robert Persons: The Biography of an Elizabethan Jesuit, 1546–1610 (St. Louis, 1995), p. 226. For uncertainties about the identification of Sterrell as Rivers, see Heaton, ‘Elizabethan Entertainments’, p. 237, n. 27.

⁷ Technically, Elizabeth's hostess at Oatlands was George Carey's sister Katherine, Countess of Nottingham, whose husband had been named Keeper of Oatlands in 1562. Although she served as an attendant to the queen for forty-five years, she is not mentioned as participating in the festivities that summer, and it seems likely that she had not fully recovered from the grave illness reported by her husband in a letter of 31 January 1602 (Folger Shakespeare Library, MS V.b.385). In any case, the Earl and Countess lived at Hampton Court, where he had also been made Keeper c. 1571, and the queen made the six-mile journey from Oatlands to visit them there around 28 September.

⁸ Lambeth Palace Library, Carew MS 604, p. 204. See Letters from Sir Robert Cecil to Sir George Carew, ed. J. Maclean (London, 1864), p. 128.

⁹ Nottingham Archives, DD/SR 1/D/14, fol. 1^r.

¹⁰ Lambeth Palace Library, MS 3203, fol. 18^r.

¹¹ Ibid., fol. 75^r.

¹² Lambeth Palace Library, MS 3201, fol. 62^r.

¹³ The gown in this portrait has been related to the one presented to the Queen during the ‘Petition of St Swithin’ at the Harefield event ‘of clothe of siluer all wrought with rainebowes’, with ‘a verie riche paire of sleeues … of Rubies and pearle’. The petition also mentions ‘Iris’, which is part of the motto in the portrait. See Janet Arnold, Queen Elizabeth's Wardrobe Unlock’d (Leeds, 1988), pp. 83–4. See also Mary C. Erler, ‘Sir John Davies and the Rainbow Portrait of Queen Elizabeth’, Modern Philology, 84 (1987), pp. 359–71. The fabric shown in the queen's dress was recently identified in an altar cloth at Bacton, Herefordshire. See Eleri Lynn, ‘The Bacton Altar Cloth: Elizabeth I's “long-lost skirt?”’, Costume, 52 (2018), pp. 3–25.

¹⁴ The Lottery for the Harefield entertainment, discussed below, names thirty-one ladies attending the queen.

¹⁵ Lambeth Palace Library MS 3203, fol. 36^r. A facsimile of the letter appears in J. Eckhardt, ‘“From a Seruant of Diana” to the Libellers of Robert Cecil’, in P. Beal and G. Ioppolo (eds.), Elizabeth I and the Culture of Writing (London, 2007), pp. 115–31, Plate 1, at p. 124. Browne is usually described as Sir William Browne, but he was not knighted until 14 March 1604, among a large group so honoured by King James at the Tower (his first conferral of knighthoods upon arrival in London). See W. A. Shaw, The Knights of England, vol. 2 (London, 1906), p. 129.

¹⁶ It is interesting that Queen Elizabeth had a locket ring (now in the collection of the Chequers Estate) with miniature portraits of herself and her mother, Anne Boleyn. Joshua Eckhardt speculates that the Cecil portrait was a lost one by Nicholas Hilliard. See Eckhardt, ‘From a Seruant’, p. 118. The contemporary miniature portrait of Cecil by Isaac Oliver (Fig. 2 above) survives in the collection at Burghley House in Lincolnshire, MIN0008, so that is a possibility also.

¹⁷ After Burghley's death, Elizabeth's younger sister Bridget wrote to Robert Cecil: ‘yow are vnto mee as a father in his steede’, so that suggests a father-figure, though Elizabeth was nine years older and may have had a more fraternal relationship. See Bridget's letter of 7 April 1599, Hatfield House, Cecil Papers 178/144, printed in Calendar of the Manuscripts of the most Hon. the Marquis of Salisbury, vol. 9 (London, 1902), p. 130.

¹⁸ See H. Payne, ‘The Cecil Women at Court’, in P. Croft (ed.), Patronage, Culture and Power: The Early Cecils (New Haven, 2002), pp. 265–81, at p. 270.

¹⁹ Browne's letter was first printed in Lodge, Illustrations, iii, pp. 146–7. John Nichols also quoted it in The Progresses and Public Processions of Queen Elizabeth, vol. 3 (London, 1823), pp. 596–97. That edition has been updated as John Nichols's The Progresses and Public Processions of Queen Elizabeth I: A New Edition of the Early Modern Sources, ed. E. Goldring, F. Eales, E. Clarke and J. E. Archer, vol. 4 (Oxford, 2014), pp. 198–9. The section of that volume on the Harefield Entertainment was edited by G. Heaton.

²⁰ T. G. Bishop, ‘Elizabethan Music as Cultural Mode’, in J. Crewe (ed.), Reconfiguring the Renaissance (Lewisburg, PA, 1992), pp. 51–75, at p. 60.

²¹ Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Don.c.54, fol. 7^v. See K. Duncan-Jones, ‘“Preserved Dainties”: Late Elizabethan Poems by Sir Robert Cecil and the Earl of Clanricarde’, Bodleian Library Record, 14 (1992), pp. 136–44. Joshua Eckhardt pointed out an earlier copy in All Souls College Library, MS 155, fol. 128^r, with an attribution to ‘R. C.’, thus supporting Robert Cecil as the poet. See Eckhardt, ‘From a Seruant’.

²² This last stanza recalls Cecil's father's plea to the queen on 17 February 1587 when he was out of favour over the execution of Mary Queen of Scots: ‘I am most willyng to endure any payne, to be carryed to some place, yea to be layd uppon the floore neare your Ma^ty fete, ther to endure your Ma^ty pleasure, hopyng by Gods goodness … I shall fynd some dropps of your mercy to quynch my sorrowfull pantyng hart.’ See British Library, Lansdowne MS 115, fol. 89^r.

²³ Writing before the lyrics were discovered, Steven W. May saw the incident purely as ‘light-hearted frivolity’. See The Elizabethan Courtier Poets, pp. 133–4. On the other hand, even though the song answers the question in the negative, Katherine Butler affirms ‘the possibility of disfavour’ in the second stanza's line, ‘meant she to skorne her servaunt, and to disgrace him?’ See Music in Elizabethan Court Politics (Woodbridge, 2015), p. 63. Recently, Catharine MacLeod agreed that Cecil seemed to interpret the queen's actions as ‘intentionally demeaning’, at least potentially. See Elizabethan Treasures: Miniatures by Hilliard and Oliver (London, 2019), p. 18. The seriousness of the incident also seems to be supported by Browne's reference to the lyrics as ‘very secrett’: why would they be secret if they were merely jesting?

²⁴ See the discussion of authorship in Duncan-Jones, ‘Preserved Dainties’, and Eckhardt, ‘From a Seruant’.

²⁵ Leicestershire Record Office DG.7/Lit.1, fol. 280^v, copied by William Parkhurst, who was in Henry Wotton's employ from 1604, including in Venice from 1604 to 1610. On this source, see The Burley Manuscript, ed. P. Redford (Manchester, 2017); an edition of this poem appears on pp. 153–54. The poem in the Burley manuscript appears among others by John Donne and was first edited in The Poems of John Donne, ed. H. Grierson, vol. 1 (Oxford, 1912), pp. 437–38. It has additionally been attributed to John Davies. See The Poems of Sir John Davies, ed. R. Krueger (Oxford, 1975), pp. 306–7, 424.

²⁶ See Eckhardt, ‘From a Seruant’, p. 119.

²⁷ ‘Orbity’ means ‘childlessness’.

²⁸ Letter of 29 March 1608, The National Archives, State Papers 99/5 fol. 68^r–v. See Letters and Memorials of State, ed. A. Collins, vol. 2 (London, 1746), p. 326. Puzzlement over the dismissal of Willis was noted in John Manningham's Diary for October 1602, when he says: ‘I heard that Sir Robert Cecile is fallen in dislike with one of his secretaries of greatest confidence, Mr. [blank], and hath dismissed him, which moves manie conjectures and much discourse in the Court.’ See British Library, Harley MS 5353, fol. 44^r, printed in The Diary of John Manningham of the Middle Temple, 1602–1603, ed. R. P. Sorlien (Hanover, NH, 1976), p. 96. Manningham's diary contains no entries between April and October of 1602, so he seems to have saved up news from the summer, and also included a version of the Harefield Lottery (fol. 95^r–^v).

²⁹ The term ‘frame unto’ also needs some explanation. A sense of its meaning can be gleaned from the quotations below but, essentially, in this context it means to ‘adapt’ or ‘shape’ something to something. So, Hales is commissioned to adapt or shape something to fit Cecil's verses.

³⁰ The ditty-as-lyric usage is unequivocal in contemporary examples like Michael Cavendish's Ayres (1598), sig. M1^v, where he gives a full page of lyrics, each one labelled This is the Ditty of the second song, etc. Further, Ben Jonson, in Cynthia's Revels (1601), sig. H3^r, has the character Hedon say: ‘I made this Ditty and the Note [i.e., music] to it’, to which Amorphus responds, citing a song of his own: ‘I think I haue both the Note and the Ditty about me.’ And in Eastward Ho (1605), sig. I3^r, Sir Petronel Flash says: ‘An excellent Ditty it is, and worthy of a new tune.’ There are hundreds of comparable examples. The rare instances from this period where ‘ditty’ is used to refer to sound without words are probably figurative, like birdsong which might be imagined as conveying text. An example of this is the lark's ‘ditty’, twice mentioned in The Passionate Pilgrime (1599), sigs. C1^r and D6^r, of which one is quoted in the OED definition as evidence that ‘ditty’ could mean ‘song’.

³¹ (London, 1571), Tenor partbook Preface, sig. AAA2^v.

³² (London, 1592), sig. A2^v.

³³ Coincidentally, Morley dedicated his First Booke of Balletts (1595) to Sir Robert Cecil (sig. A2^r).

³⁴ No. 3, sig. C1^v–C2^r.

³⁵ W. Segar, Honor, Military, and Civill (London, 1602), p. 198. William Segar was a portraitist and, at the time of Lee's retirement, held the post of Somerset Herald at the College of Arms.

³⁶ Sir Henry Wotton, A Parallel between Robert late Erle of Essex, and George late Duke of Buckingham (London, 1641), p. 3. Wotton gives the final couplet of that sonnet as ‘And if thou shouldst by Her be now forsaken,/She made thy Heart too strong for to be shaken’. From the surrounding discussion, Wotton is apparently referring to a time in the 1590s. Though a handful of other poems were set to music, the only lute-song setting of an Essex sonnet of which I am aware is To plead my faith, set by Daniel Batchelar and published in Robert Dowland's A Musicall Banquet (1610), No. 6, sigs. D2^v–E1^r.

³⁷ Alnwick Castle Archives; Letters and Papers, vol. 7, fols. 19^v–22^r. See R. J. Alexander, ‘A Record of Twelfth Night Celebrations’, Records of Early English Drama, 16 (1991), pp. 12–19.

³⁸ See A. Main, ‘Maximilian's Second-Hand Funeral Motet’, Musical Quarterly, 48 (1962), pp. 173–89.

³⁹ For a discussion of the two versions, see S. J. Hubert, ‘Two Women, Two Songs: The Subversive Iconography of “Candle in the Wind”’, National Women's Studies Association Journal, 11 (1999), pp. 124–37.

⁴⁰ R. W. Duffin, ‘Voices and Viols, Bibles and Bindings: The Origins of the Blossom Partbooks’, Early Music History, 33 (2014), pp. 61–108, at pp. 76–80.

⁴¹ See many examples of this in R. W. Duffin, Shakespeare's Songbook (New York, 2004) and Duffin, Some Other Note: The Lost Songs of English Renaissance Comedy (New York and Oxford, 2018).

⁴² On courtiers writing contrafact poems to ballad tunes, see Butler, Music in Elizabethan Court Politics, pp. 57–61. Of course, writing new lyrics to existing tunes was common in the ballad repertoire generally.

⁴³ Maidstone, Kent History and Library Centre, U1475 [De L’Isle MSS] C8/135 [misdated 1601].

⁴⁴ This is in the Conway manuscript version, Folger Shakespeare Library, MS X.d.172.

⁴⁵ No. 8, sigs. E2^v–F1^r. Apparently copied from the 1605 print, a manuscript copy of the top part with bass survives in Giles Earle's Songbook (c. 1615–c. 1626) (British Library, Add. MS 24665), fols. 19^v–20^r. Jones's setting as part of the Harefield Entertainment is discussed in Butler, Music in Elizabethan Court Politics, pp. 157–61.

⁴⁶ British Library, Add. MS 30513, fol. 86^v. The tune was probably written to set the poem of the same title in Clement Robinson's A Handefull of Pleasant Delites (1584), sig. D2^v, which includes ‘nets’ and ‘guide the ship’, both of which fit with the Mariner's song. A version of the proverb-refrain seems first to have been printed in Mathew Grove, The most Famous and Tragicall Historie of Pelops and Hippodamia (1587), sig. E8^r, and it might have sounded familiar to the queen since it was also used in the Entertainment at Cowdrey in 1591. See The Speeches and Honorable Entertainment Giuen to the Queenes Maiestie in Progresse, at Cowdrey in Sussex, by the Right Honorable the Lord Montacute (1591), p. 10. See also Scragg, ‘Angling’, p. 246.

⁴⁷ For an edition of this song, see Duffin, Shakespeare's Songbook, pp. 152–4.

⁴⁸ Folger Shakespeare Library, MS X.d.172, and F. Davison, A Poetical Rapsodie (1608), sig. B3^r.

⁴⁹ See Quinti Horatii Flacci Emblemata (Antwerp, 1612), p. 203.

⁵⁰ See G. Abraham, ‘A Lost Poem by Queen Elizabeth I’, Times Literary Supplement, 30 May 1968, p. 553. See also Butler, Music in Elizabethan Court Politics, pp. 59–61.

⁵¹ Sir Robert Naunton, Fragmenta Regalia, or Observations on the Late Queen Elizabeth, Her Times and Favorits (London, 1641), p. 31. See K. A. Butler, ‘Image and Influence: The Political Uses of Music at the Court of Elizabeth I’ (Ph.D. diss, Royal Holloway, University of London, 2011), pp. 182–3, and S. W. May, The Elizabethan Courtier Poets (Columbia, MO, 1991), pp. 318–21.

⁵² Gerschow's description of a pre-play vocal and instrumental concert at Blackfriars on 18 September is of interest. See R. W. Duffin, ‘Music and the Stage in the Time of Shakespeare’, in R. M. Smuts (ed.), Oxford Handbooks of Literature: The Age of Shakespeare (Oxford, 2016), pp. 748–63, at pp. 749–50.

⁵³ From ‘Diary of the Journey of Philip Julius, Duke of Stettin-Pomerania, through England in the year 1602’, ed. G. von Bülow and W. Powell, Transactions of the Royal Historical Society, New Series VI (London, 1892), p. 15 (with the original German on p. 14).

⁵⁴ An early copy is English Broadside Ballad Archive 36027.

⁵⁵ On this tune, see C. M. Simpson, The British Broadside Ballad and its Music (New Brunswick, NJ, 1966), pp. 206–8.

⁵⁶ In sources like the Conway MS and the early print of the Lottery in Davison's A Poetical Rapsodie, there is an even number of couplets, which would work out perfectly with each couplet taking half of the tune. Not all sources have an even number, however, and it is difficult to know how many couplets were used in performance at Harefield. Nevertheless, an odd stanza at the end could simply be sung to a repeat of the final strain, as a petite reprise. William Byrd's setting of the tune, indeed, reprises that final strain in each variation.

⁵⁷ See the letter of George Savile, cited above (n. 9). There were twelve Boys of the Chapel in the lists for Elizabeth's funeral the following spring, so presumably a similar number would have been at Harefield. See Records of English Court Music, ed. A. Ashbee, vol. 4 (1603–1625) (Snodland, 1986), p. 3. There is also an extant lottery, appended by William Skipwith to John Marston's Entertainment at Ashby, apparently from the summer of 1607 and coincidentally honouring Alice, the Dowager Countess of Derby, who delivers the first stanza. It survives as an appendix to Huntington Library, MS EL 34 B9 and includes fourteen numbered stanzas of four or six lines. In this case it seems that the ladies themselves did the singing. Its verses may also have been sung to Fortune my foe, especially since the first stanza uses pentameters, although the subsequent stanzas are all in tetrameters. I am grateful to Vanessa Wilkie for drawing my attention to this manuscript. See James Knowles, ‘Marston, Skipwith, and The Entertainment at Ashby’, English Manuscript Studies, 1100–1700, vol. 3 (1992), pp. 137–92, including pp. 173–7 for a facsimile and transcription of the lottery.

⁵⁸ This is such a significant moment because, as Jean Wilson says: ‘While Time stops, all mortal cares must stop with him, and the house becomes a type of Paradise.’ See Wilson, ‘Harefield Entertainment’, p. 323.

⁵⁹ No. 2, sigs. B2^v–C1^r. The volume was registered by Thomas Adams on 21 February 1602/3.

⁶⁰ See, in particular, the discussion and edition of the song in Butler, ‘Image and Influence’, pp. 144–6. See also D. Poulton, John Dowland (London, 1982), p. 277, and P. Howard, ‘Time in Entertainments for Queen Elizabeth I: 1590–1602’, University of Toronto Quarterly, 65 (1996), pp. 467–81 at 476–7. Howard documents seventeen instances of the figure of ‘Time’ in entertainments for Elizabeth during those years.

⁶¹ Place echoes the imagery in her speech of farewell, when she says: ‘I haue no winges as Tyme hathe; my heavynes is suche, as I must stand still’, but if it was indeed used, the lute-song seems more likely to have been placed in or near the earlier Dialogue.

⁶² Starting around the end of the sixteenth century, a ring with a saying or short poem inscribed within in it seems to have been a fairly common gift. Such a ring is mentioned, for example, in John Marston's Antonio and Mellida (1602) (5.1). In the Harefield Lottery instance, the inscription would be ‘as faithful as I find’. Initially, Cecil may have used that poesy for his second line, but abandoned the ending when he failed to identify a fourth-line rhyme that would locate the picture on the lady's bosom. To preserve the original, he could have used something like ‘which to her breast did bind’.

⁶³ Maidstone, Kent History and Library Centre U1475 [De L’Isle MSS] C8/221. See Letters and Memorials of State, ii, p. 258.

⁶⁴ John Nichols's The Progresses, iv, p. 198.

⁶⁵ Lambeth Palace Library, MS 3201, fol. 54^r. See Lodge, Illustrations, iii, pp. 143–5.

⁶⁶ Such an instance is described in The aduentures of Master F.I. from George Gascoigne, An Hundreth Sundrie Flowres (1573), p. 231: ‘The dinner ended, & he throughly contented both with welfare & welcome, they fell into sundry deuices of pastime: at last F.I. taking into his hand a Lute that lay on his Mistres bed, did vnto the note of the Venetian galliard applie the Italian dittie written by the woorthy Bradamant vnto the noble Rugier, as Ariosto hath it.’

⁶⁷ British Library, Add. MS 15117 (c. 1615), fol. 19^r. Sidney's poem appears in Astrophel and Stella (1591), pp. 47–8. For musical editions of Diana and her darlings dear and Have I caught my heavenly jewel, see Duffin, Shakespeare's Songbook, pp. 122–4 and 187–8.

⁶⁸ It is also not entirely clear that the Diana ballad is old enough to have been known in 1602, though it is possible that it was circulating in manuscript. Its earliest surviving notice is a Stationers’ Register entry for 14 December 1624. The Rogero tune was certainly known, however.

⁶⁹ Sig. M2^r. This tune became popular on the Continent as Pots hondert tausent Slapferment. See C. R. Baskervill, The Elizabethan Jig and Related Song Drama (Chicago, 1929), pp. 313–14.

⁷⁰ Sig. A2^r–v. On Robert Cecil's patronage in music, see L. Hulse, ‘The Musical Patronage of Robert Cecil, First Earl of Salisbury (1563–1612)’, Journal of the Royal Musical Association, 116 (1991), pp. 24–40; and Hulse, ‘“Musique which pleaseth myne eare”: Robert Cecil's Musical Patronage’, in Croft (ed.), Patronage, Culture and Power, pp. 139–58. See also ‘Cecilian Patronage’, ch. 5 in R. Taylor, ‘Musicians and Intelligence Operations, 1570–1612: Politics, Surveillance, and Patronage in the Late Tudor and Early Stuart Years’ (Ph.D. diss., McGill University, 2006), pp. 208–67.

⁷¹ See Duffin, Some Other Note, p. 634.

⁷² See J. Craig-McFeely, ‘English Lute Manuscripts and Scribes 1530–1630’ (D.Phil. diss., Oxford University, 1993), Appendix 4, Index of Music Titles, under Prince's Almain/Wilhelmuslied. On the early history of the tune, including its French origins, see M. Kestemont, E. Stronks, M. de Bruin and T. de Winkel, Van wie is het Wilhelmus? (Amsterdam, 2017).

⁷³ This is, thus, a case of framing a ditty to a tune. One of the lyric's earliest sources is Folger Shakespeare Library, MS H.b.1, fol. 223^r (c. 1585), sometimes called the ‘original version’ of the Countess of Pembroke's Arcadia. Its earliest printing was in the 1598 edition of The Countesse of Pembrokes Arcadia, pp. 483–4, which would certainly have been available to the queen since a copy of that volume with her coat of arms is in the Folger Shakespeare Library (STC 22541, c.3). Interestingly, her device seems superimposed on that of the Earl of Essex. For a modern edition of the lyric, see The Poems of Sir Philip Sidney, ed. W. A Ringler, Jr. (Oxford, 1962), pp. 151–2.

⁷⁴ Though the rhyme scheme of Sidney's lyric and the Wilhelmuslied is ababcdcd, the most famous French antecedent, O la folle entreprise, has the same abcbdefe rhyme scheme as Cecil's lyric. See Beau Recueil de plusieurs belles Chansons spiritulles [sic] (Paris, c. 1569–70), fols. 61^r–62^v. Perhaps the earliest surviving lyric to use the tune, Que dictes vous en France of around 1523 (Paris, Bibliothèque nationale de France, MS f. fr. 2200, fol. 45^r–v), uses a mix of those rhyme schemes. For an edition of that poem, along with the opening couplets of nineteen other sixteenth-century lyrics apparently based on the same tune, see Revue d’Histoire Littéraire de la France (Paris, 1894), pp. 301–5. The manuscript of Que dictes vous en France cites an earlier chanson, Dictes moy qu’il vous semble de l’empereur et du Roy (c. 1519?), as the source of its tune, but that lyric is not otherwise known.

⁷⁵ Duncan-Jones, ‘Preserved Dainties’, p. 140.

⁷⁶ A certain amount of variability in syllables is evident among lyrics set to the tune. The section of Frauncis Newe Jigge (c. 1595) that is specified to be sung to the Walsingham tune has anywhere from four to seven syllables in the second and fourth lines of each quatrain. My love doth fly has more, but the melody is frequently heard with precisely the divisions given here, as in the very first statement of the tune in John Bull's keyboard setting, and in the first variation in William Byrd's setting.

⁷⁷ See Duncan-Jones, ‘Preserved Dainties’, p. 141. It is also interesting that Robert Sidney wrote a dialogue poem, ‘Yonder comes a sad pilgrim’ (British Library, Add. MS 59435, fols. 16^r–18^v), clearly meant to be set to the Walsingham tune. See The Poems of Robert Sidney, ed. P. J. Croft (Oxford, 1984), pp. 34–7, 184–95, 313–14. For further on the Walsingham poem and tune, see B. Brookshire, ‘“Bare ruin’d quires, where late the sweet birds sang”: Covert Speech in William Byrd's “Walsingham” Variations’, in D. Janes and G. Waller (eds.), Walsingham in Literature and Culture from the Middle Ages to Modernity (Farnham, 2010), pp. 199–216, and G. Waller, ‘“As you came from Walsingham”: Walsingham in Poetry and Music after the Dissolution’, in his Walsingham and the English Imagination (Farnham, 2011), ch. 4, pp. 91–114.

⁷⁸ No. 22, sig. F2^v–F3^r.

⁷⁹ See R. W. Duffin, The Music Treatises of Thomas Ravenscroft (Farnham, 2014), pp. 25–7. A copy of Thomas Ravenscroft's A Briefe Discourse (1614), furthermore, survives in the Huntington Library (69078) with a holograph dedication to Sir John Egerton, the Lord Keeper's son by Elizabeth Ravenscroft.

⁸⁰ Hyder Rollins, editor of Davison's Poetical Rhapsody, says: ‘It is doubtful just what attributions are made, who made them, and how much faith is to be put in them.’ See A Poetical Rhapsody, 1602–1622, ed. H. E. Rollins, vol. 2 (Cambridge, MA, 1932), p. 36. By the fourth surviving edition of 1621, the ascription was to ‘Sir. I.D.’, however, so the attribution to the lawyer-poet was assumed by that time.

⁸¹ See Hatfield House, Cecil Papers 184/38 and 184/123.

⁸² See, for example, from Mirum in Modum of 1602 (the same year as the progress): ‘Eternall, without time, from whome Time came,/Being present euery where, yet without place,/For euery place hee fram’d and keepes in frame’; and ‘Who is not chang’d by Place, for he fills all,/Nor yet by Time, for he is without time’ (sig. F1^v and F4^r). The imagery also appears in his Microcosmos of 1603: ‘Diffring in nothing but in Time and Place’ (p. 25); and in his Wittes Pilgrimage (1605): ‘Time, and Place vs both do woo’ (sig. M2^r). Moreover, a more extended poetical discussion of Time and Place occurs in his Yehovah Summa Totalis (1607), sig. C1^r–v. On its title page, that publication is described as ‘an Addition to Mirum in Modum’ of 1602, and is dedicated to Thomas Egerton and the Countess of Derby. Ironically, in a poem signed ‘I.D.’, John Davies of Hereford prophesied future confusion with his namesake when he wrote: ‘Then must Iohn Davies, share Iohn Davies worth/For times to come can no distinction giue.’ See ‘To my beloved M^r. Iohn Davies of the Middle-Temple Councellor at the Law’, Microcosmos, sigs. Nn4^v–Oo1^r.

⁸³ See Duffin, Music Treatises, p. 39.

⁸⁴ Fol. 109^r–v. First printed in Geneva the previous year, the English use of the tune for William Kethe's new metrical translation of Psalm 100 derives from a setting of Théodore de Bèze's metrical Psalm 134, Or sus, serviteurs du Seigneur, in Pseaumes Octantetrois de Dauid (Geneva, 1551), pp. 275–6. In an ‘Advertissement’ on sig. V3^r–v, Louis Bourgeois claims to have composed all of the settings for the versified de Bèze psalm translations (in addition to amending infelicities in several Marot psalm settings). On the early history of the English metrical psalter, see R. A. Leaver, Goostly Psalmes and Spirituall Songes (Oxford, 1991); B. Quitslund, The Reformation in Rhyme (Aldershot, 2008); and The Whole Book of Psalms: A Critical Edition of the Texts and Tunes, ed. B. Quitslund and N. Temperley (Tempe, AZ, 2018).

⁸⁵ See N. Temperley, The Music of the English Parish Church, vol. 1 (Cambridge, 1979), p. 58.

⁸⁶ Hulse, ‘The Musical Patronage’, p. 39. See also L. Hulse, ‘The Musical Patronage of the English Aristocracy, c.1590–1640’ (Ph.D. thesis, King's College, London, 1992), pp. 265–85, citing Hatfield House, Cecil MSS Bills 57/7 and 67B. The library at Hatfield House included four editions of the Sternhold & Hopkins metrical psalms, along with several communion books with psalms appended.

⁸⁷ See Hulse, ‘Musique which pleaseth’, pp. 157–8, n. 69, citing Huntington Library MS EL 6495. The Huntington Library today includes eleven copies of Sternhold & Hopkins metrical psalms that formerly belonged to the Egerton family. It is also interesting that Thomas East's four-voice musical settings of the metrical psalter, The Whole Booke of Psalmes (1592), preserves a setting of Old Hundredth by John Dowland (pp. 184–85).

⁸⁸ See Temperley, Music of the English Parish Church, vol. 1, p. 46.

⁸⁹ Using a metrical psalm tune for a secular lyric may seem surprising, but it apparently happened enough to provoke the wrath of George Wither: ‘I recon it little better then Sacriledge, for any man to vse those tunes with a prophane subiect, which haue been once consecrated vnto the seruice and honour of God.’ See A Preparation to the Psalter (1619), p. 87. For three near-contemporary play songs by William Percy (1570–1648) that seem likely to have been set to Old Hundredth, however, see Duffin, Some Other Note, pp. 532–33, 568–70, and 581–82.

⁹⁰ The Burley manuscript version actually has ‘myne eyes’.

⁹¹ No. 5, sig. D1^v–D2^r.

⁹² John Dowland, Andreas Ornithoparcus his Micrologus, or Introduction Containing the Arte of Singing (London, 1609), sig. A2^r. See also Hulse, ‘The Musical Patronage’, and Hulse, ‘Musique which pleaseth’.

⁹³ No. 4, sig B2^v–C1^r. Like Dowland, Robert Jones had a connection with Robert Cecil through a dedication. His epistle to the First Set of Madrigals (1607) mentions ‘the worthy approbation you haue giuen to many professors’ of music (sig. A2^v). See also Hulse, ‘The Musical Patronage’, and Hulse, ‘Musique which pleaseth’.

⁹⁴ That all of this music connected to the 1602 summer progress raises the question of whether there is a possible musical setting for the six stanzas of Beauty's rose and virtue's book, the Petition of St Swithin from the Entertainment at Harefield. One manuscript source (Warwickshire CRO CR 136/B2455) says the Petition was ‘deliuered in writing’, but that may not have precluded performance as well. In fact, the stanza versification – six tetrameter lines in an aabccb rhyme scheme – is quite rare, but matches that of the famous O Mistress mine song from Shakespeare's contemporaneous play, Twelfth Night (Act II, sc. iii). For a new exploration of possible original musical settings of that lyric (and therefore music that could set Beauty's rose), see R. W. Duffin, ‘Thomas Morley, Robert Johnson, and Songs for the Shakespearean Stage’, in M. Cooke and C. R. Wilson (eds.), The Oxford Handbook of Shakespeare and Music (Oxford, forthcoming).