The elder Cellini himself, who was a much appreciated craftsman in Florence (making "marvellous musical instruments," knowing engineering, “carving ivory in miraculous fashion," etc., etc.), was requested by the Fife Players of the Signoria to play with them, and after having done this for a while for his own amusement, he was invited to join and belong to their company. When Lorenzo de' Medici, seeing he was neglecting his own art, had him removed from the position of "Fife Player," he "felt sorely angry" and took it bitterly to heart, never letting the matter rest till, in a short time, he was allowed to resume his fife professionally.

We do not know what was the music of these Fife Players, neither have we any knowledge of the kind of music it might have been that Benvenuto played on his flute, so that, whenever his father heard him, "tears coursed down his cheeks and he sighed deeply."

No history of music has succeeded in reconstituting the atmosphere and surroundings in which the music "lived," but an infinite number of non-musical works of the sixteenth, seventeenth and eighteenth centuries show and confirm the existence of a world of musical life as yet unexplored by history.

The versatility of the artist of the sixteenth century is shown in Ludovico Dolce's "Dialogo della Pittura" (1557), when he alludes to the virtuoso Silvestro, "an excellent musician attached as player to the Doge, who also draws and paints most perfectly."

That music was held in high repute and was generally an object of discussion amongst the intelligensia of the sixteenth century, is apparent in all the literary works of that period. Among many others there is an interesting collection called "Ragionamenti Famigliari" (1550) which opens with an argument against Music and one in favour of it. In the first, a lady is being censured for her unbounded love of music, and opportunity is taken to hold up to scorn some of the musicians of the day; in the second argument the speaker is blaming a lady who intends to give up her musical studies and, in doing so, displays his own erudition in order to convince her of the high value of what she would

renounce.

Familiar Argument of the Signora Francesca da Corregio Mainolda, addressed to the Signora Alda Lunata, against Music:

Pray tell me, dearest Lady, what you mean by taking notice of nothing else but music? Such study is bound to enfeeble the mind, and make you thoughtless and useless. It seems to me that music is

professed only by those of very humble extraction and in proof of what I say, consider how Virgil leaves singing to Joppa, the Crinite, while Eneas and Dido remain listening in eager attention. If we turn to Homer it is Alcinous the King of the Phæacians, and his courtiers, who give their whole attention to listening, while it is Demodoco who sings. Hercules had had the wish to become a musician, but he soon realized that such an art was not suited to a man of strength, and it is with a musical instrument that he killed his tutor Lino. Philip reproved his son Alexander, saying: 'Are you not ashamed to be such a good musician?' as if to say, it is sufficient for a man of valour to have the gift of listening. I have never in my life seen a musician sit at the head of the table, but always below the salt, with the lower orders. Hearing Antistones praised for a perfect musician, Ismenia replied: 'He can, therefore, only be a wicked man'; maintaining that most musicians were feeble, lascivious and effeminate creatures, such as were Anaxero, Eucero, Conna the cithara player, Talemo the son of Calliope, and an infinite number of others that I will not enumerate. Even birds are liable to be deceived by song, and it is with songs that the syrens deluded. But do you realize the effect of music on our souls? It operates in the same manner as the fish Polipo does, who encircles his victim the better to drag him under. Music acts as does the spider and as the surgeon, the one who will rub gently and the other who will annoint with unguents the spot they intend to wound. Do you wish to know what a deadly thing is music? I beg you to consider that in antiquity, those days of greater wisdom than ours, the object of music was to escort the dead to their sepulture; was there a better way of showing that music was baneful and ill-omened? Believe me, it is not without good reason that Athanasius, that great enemy of worldly vanity, would have had it excluded from the church, I have also noted that the most nefarious villains of the Roman Empire were given to the pursuit of music: Nero, without doubt, was devoted to music. I would wish that we could enjoy true harmony of souls, but alas, souls are never in tune one with another, and were they less discordant, I could believe them to be those celestial harmonies which Pythagoras introduced us to, which Aristotle would have confuted, but which Marcus Tullius reinstated. What sweetness would I concede to be in music if the Almighty granted us the favour to hear the angelic choirs, exclaiming, with sweet fervour, Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Hosts. Pray, would that not be sweeter music than listening to Verdelotte, Tusquino, Jacques, Cipriano, Perissone, or Adriano?1 Dear Lady, I beg of you to renounce this vanity and to devote your powers of listening to mercifully attending to the cries and lamentations of the contrite and doleful sinners, for in such a manner do the holy spirits make use of their listening faculties. Here I pause, and indeed, will say no more, trusting that your exceptional prudence will immediately cause you to alter your mind and that it will be in another direction that you will turn the thoughts of that noble intellect of yours.

"These are the names, more or less altered and deformed, of the most noted musicians of the beginning of the sixteenth century.

Argument in favour of Music by Signor Domenico Roncalli, addressed to Signora Lucrezia Gonzaga Manfrona:

An hour seems a year if I am waiting to see you again in order to reprimand you, and, were it possible, to give you a good scolding and a punishment. You laugh at this, Madam, but I find it no laughing matter that you should be thinking of giving up your musical studies and devoting your thoughts to other pursuits. Can this be possible? How can you mean to turn your noble mind from so fine an occupation? You know well the sweetness there is in song and in musical instruments and how Epaminondas, the great soldier, was led to study earnestly the rules of music; while, on the other hand, Themistocles, being ignorant of music, was always considered less gifted. If there were no other examples, it would suffice, in order to prove the excellence of music, to remind you that Lycurgus, who among the Greeks instituted such severe and drastic laws, nevertheless loved it, and deemed it most necessary. What else can you hold in store for the future that will comfort your heart and mind, and that can raise your spirits? Pythagoras, not without just reason, believed the world to have been created by music, and I do not think he was mistaken after seeing it among divine things and known it used to appease God's anger. I, for one (however feeble may be my judgment), do not know anything more potent than music to restore the serenity of the troubled harmony of the soul. You will certainly be impressed by the words of Pindar, who said none were loved of God who loved and esteemed not music. I am not surprised that Socrates, when already of mature years, became addicted to it, and I do not marvel at Hercules, who chose Lino, a most perfect musician, to be his tutor. I understand, too, thanks to the wise and ancient authors, that in Thebes there was no statue to be found erected to Pindar the Theban (however learned he may have been), but, according to what Athaneo tells us, to Cleone, who was a singer, Eupolides, the comic poet, praised music highly, and Anaxila and Theophilo, the cithara player, valued it yet more, proving with learned and subtle reasons how it could be a corrective for dissolute morals and a cure for evil-minded souls, and also how the heat of anger was abated and depravity reformed, by means of music. Ismenia could cure sciatica with music. Terpander and Arione, by means of music, restored to health the inhabitants of Lesbos and Toni; and this should not surprise you, for Democritus and Theophrastus in a long discourse maintained that music cured most infirmities. Do you not see, Madam, that every thing that has life rejoices at the sound of music and thus proves a noble origin? Strabo tells us that elephants are softened by music and rejoice when cymbals are played. Do not imagine that elephants are alone in this respect, for stags and birds and dolphins are susceptible to it; and camels, if we are to trust the word of their Arab drivers, are also fond of music. I, for myself, have seen the newly born infant, when in tears, soothed by the song of the nurse. It occurs to me to have read that in the ponds of Alexandria there were fish that could be caught by being sung to, and also that there was a fountain called Helesio, which, at the sound of any music, would swell and spring up high as if invited to dance. Equally do I remember reading that there are in Lydia some small islands called Isles of the Nymphs, which,

when music is played, will leave the side of the continent and gently, very gently, proceed with circular movements as if in a dance; but let the music cease, and they will return from whence they came. M. Varrone, a man of good faith, owns to having seen it, and I add this testimony in order that you should not think I am relating fables and dreams. But what will you say to the following: At the edge of the sea at Athens, there could be heard the sound of the lyre. I also want to tell you that I recall having read in the Greek authors how there was a rock at Megara that uttered musical sounds, sweet to hear, every time it was struck by the waves of the sea. I do not forget that Pythagoras1 reclaimed a youth from a life of evil with music, so that he became temperate and chaste. Music obtains such wonderful results-and you, honourable lady, would renounce it? Music, as you have just heard, is so excellent-and you would scorn it? Do not allow yourself to be persuaded to do so, because, in truth, music is the salt to our contentment, the joy of our mortal life and the only remedy for our sad thoughts. It is music that smooths the careworn brow. It is music that helps us to master the most deplorable passions, and thanks to music, we can live in peace in spite of all ill fortune. I need say no more. Rejoice, and remember how it is for your benefit I have thus briefly recounted all this from memory.

At all times and in all centuries there have been no lack of arguments to disparage or exalt music. Girolamo Bardi, in a small book called "Cose Notabili della città di Venezia" (1583; it is a dialogue between a Venetian and a stranger), depicts concisely, in a passage of his booklet, the musical world of his day:

Stranger: And what noted men have you in this town?
Venetian: To begin with the musicians, we have among us M. Adriano
Vuigliaret (Willaert), whose merit is well known, and actually
the R.M.P. Iseppo Zarlino is to succeed him as Choir
Master at San Marco, and you will be familiar with his

Stranger:
Venetian:

renown.

I have heard him called the prince of music.
There is no doubt he deserves the title, and it is not on music
alone that he concentrates; indeed, one might say that a
great deal less of his time is spent on music than on other
studies; he knows the pleasing science of all the liberal arts
and he has such a genuine knowledge of them that in dis-
cussion he does not overpower you with learned subtleties,
and this more specially in respect to mathematics, his most
favourite subject. In fact, I assure you he can be compared
to a casket containing all the virtues.

Stranger: I have heard he has written books on a variety of subjects?
Venetian: That is quite true. He has written four books of institu-
tions and five of demonstrations of harmony, a treatise 'De
Patientia,' a discourse concerning the actual and real day

1Up to the eighteenth century there was a great competition as to who could quote the most from Greek authors who proclaimed the wonders of Music.

Stranger:

Venetian:

Stranger:

of our Lord's crucifixion, another on the origin of the Capuchin Friars, a treatise 'De Innovationi Anni,' and a discourse concerning the Gregorian rules remodelled by him; and I have heard that soon he is to give us twenty-five volumes on 'De Utraque Musica' and several others besides; all these are worthy fruit of a precious tree.

What wonderful things am I not hearing and how glad I am that such a noble intellect earns deserved recognition, and that according to what I gather he is loved and honoured by every one.

Were it not, sir, that I might seem overeffusive, I would say that there is not, nor can there ever be, in any one, greater sweetness; neither can any one be more delightful company. He is always gay and cheerful and is a constant source of delight to his friends.1

Have you other noted musicians?

Venetian: We have a Spanish soprano, M. Antonio, and a newcomer whose name I do not recall. We have in our city Baldassare Donati, Claudio da Corregio, Andrea de Canareggio, Vincenzo Bellaver, Ans, Pre Vincenzo, and many others, all masters both of singing and playing.

Giovambattista Giraldi Cintio, in his "Discorso intorno al Comporre delle Comedie e delle Tragedie," seems almost to have foreshadowed the æsthetical tenets of the "Camerata Fiorentina." With him it is the same study of Greek tragedy that was later to give the "Camerata Fiorentina" its formula of musical drama. In respect to music there are two passages of great interest in Cintio's discourse (written in 1563). The first is a comparison of the special chorus which "with the Greeks is sung at the same time as it is danced to the rhythm of the music." He thinks that "these dance movements must be like the Moresca of our own day, when, following the rhythm of the music, hands are clapped and feet, head or chest are struck with much grace." He goes on to say, for instance, "the time to which the Trojan women clap their hands and beat their breast when with Hecuba, is very similar to our Moresca, and the movements are the same. So that if Cintio compared the Moresca with the movements of the Greek chorus it points to the fact that in his own day, in Italy, the art of dancing still existed. Another point of interest is in reference to the music of the theatre:

The chorus (with the Greeks) was not necessarily the prologue to the first part of the play, but could be a division separating the different parts. This division with us nowadays occurs when the music is played at the end of each act, and the stage remains empty. Sometimes, in

'This is the finest possible biography of Zarlino, though in his day it may have sounded like one of those puffs so successfully employed in our own times.