Many of the ballads which are well-known in England to-day have an antiquity scarcely inferior to the one cited above. "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow," for example (known in America as "We Won't Go Home Till Morning"), can be traced through the the French "Malbrooke" to the old crusader "Mambron," and its melody was heard in Palestine in the twelfth century. Oddly enough, the tune took root in the East, and can be heard to-day in many an Oriental city. The fellaheen of Egypt claim the tune as their own, and so it is, if eight centuries of possession can make it so. "There Were Three Crows Sat on a Tree," "Lord Lovell," and several other popular ballads of the day can also be traced, in varying shapes, to a remote past. It is natural, therefore, to find the ballad playing a prominent part, in many ways, in the Shakespearian drama. If the ballad appears in the action less frequently than the lyrical song, it is none the less used, at times, with peculiar fitness and occasionally with a power that is phenomenal. To this last category belong the ballads that Ophelia sings during her fits of madness. Nothing can be more pathetic than the introduction of light and inconsequential ballad music in these moments of darkness and agony. Just as a single candle might throw into more terrible contrast the blackness of some vast cavern, just as the mirth and revelry expressed in the "Ça Ira" and the "Car magnole" made more frightful the scenes in the French Reign of Terror, which they accompanied, so the woes of Ophelia are emphasised and doubly impressed upon the auditor by the ribald music that she sings. Fortunately, in this case we have the very music which Shakespeare employed. When Drury Lane Theatre was burned, in 1812, the old transcription of the melodies, which had been handed down from the original sources, was lost; an enthusiastic musician, however, to whom all Shakespearians owe thanks, Doctor Arnold, sought out Mrs. Jordan, who had often played the part of Ophelia, and from her lips transcribed the tunes that she had so frequently sung. Mr. Linley also wrote down the melodies from memory, having heard Miss Field (afterward Mrs. Forster) sing the tunes in the above mentioned theatre. The two versions agree well enough for one to prove the other, but the Arnold transcription (which we reproduce for our readers) is probably the more authentic. The scenes in which the ballads occur are as follows: "Re-enter HORATIO with OPHELIA. Ophelia. Where is the beauteous majesty of Denmark? Queen. How now, Ophelia? Ophelia. 'How should I your true love know From another one? By his cockle hat and staff, And his sandal shoon?' Queen. Alas, sweet lady, what imports this song? • He is dead and gone, lady, He is dead and gone; At his head a green-grass turf, At his heels a stone.' O, ho. Queen. Nay, but Ophelia Ophelia. Pray you, mark. 'White his shroud as the mountain snow.' Enter KING. Queen. Alas, look here, my lord. Ophelia. 'Larded all with sweet flowers, [Singing. [Sings. [Sings. Which bewept to the grave did go,1 With true-love showers.' King. How do you, pretty lady? Ophelia. Well, God 'ield you! They say the owl was a baker's daughter. Lord, we know what we are, but know not what we may be. God be at your table. King. Conceit upon her father. Ophelia. Pray, let us have no words of this; but when they ask what it means say you this: 'Good morrow, 'tis Saint Valentine's day, All in the morning betime, And I a maid at your window, To be your Valentine : " 'Knight, Pope, Steevens, and others give this "did not go," arguing that Polonius was not a youth, hence no true-love showers. Regarding the "cockle hat and staff," Warburton says (Vol. VIII. p. 224) that these are the distinguishing marks of a pilgrim. The chief places of devotion being beyond sea, the pilgrims were wont to put cockle-shells in their hats to denote the intention or performance of their devotion. The allusion to the owl and the baker's daughter is explained by an old ballad (of which we have, however, never seen a copy), in which the tale is told of the Saviour going to a baker's shop and asking bread; he was given a Andante. And how should I your true love know, From many another one? O by his cock - le Hat, and Staff, And |