_Peter._ Then have at you with my wit.... Answer me like
men:
_When griping grief the heart doth wound,
And_ DOLEFUL DUMPS _the mind oppress,
Then music with her silver sound--_
Why "silver sound"? why "music with her _silver_ sound"?
what say you, Simon _Catling_?
_1 Mus._ Marry, sir, because silver hath a _sweet sound_.
_Peter._ Pretty!--what say _you_, Hugh _Rebeck_?
_2 Mus._ I say--"silver sound" because musicians _sound for
silver_.
_Peter._ Pretty too!--what say _you_, James _Soundpost_?
_3 Mus._ 'Faith, I know not what to _say_.
_Peter._ O! I cry you mercy; you are the _singer_: I will
_say_ for you. It is--"music with her silver sound," because
musicians have no _gold_ for sounding:--
Then music with her _silver sound_
With speedy help doth lend redress.
[_Exit._
_1 Mus._ What a pestilent knave is this same!
_2 Mus._ Hang him, Jack! [Peter's names evidently all
wrong.] Come, we'll in here; tarry for the mourners, _and
stay dinner_.
[_Exeunt._]
The Hay, Hey, or Raye, seems to be mentioned only once--viz., in
_Love's Labour's Lost_, in the account of the preparations for the
Pageant of the Worthies. Constable Dull proposes to accompany the
dancing of the hay with a tabor, which may be taken as the common
practice.
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