rated, as those of Torrenti ¹²¹ and Sir Alexander Wentgrave ¹²²
ever existed, their suggestion of strange beauty is just as great.
He was fond of pictures and often uses figures from painting
or drawing when he speaks of his books. ¹²³

Dekker shared the then general love of music to such an
extent that he could hardly speak of it without breaking into
a sort of rapture.

"[I] secretly
Commanded music with her silver tongue
To chime soft lullabies into his soul." ¹²⁴

"Go; let music
Charm with her excellent voice an awful silence
Through all this building, that her sphery soul
May, on the wings of air, in thousand forms
Invisibly fly, yet be enjoyed." ¹²⁵

"Take instruments,
And let the raptures of choice harmony
Thorough the hollow windings of his ear
Carry their sacred sounds." ¹²⁶

Doubtless he sang, he who could, with little excuse or none
at all, bring out a gay little song for boating, a heartier one for
a drinking bout, a love song with May and the nightingale in
it, a tender lullaby, or the sweetest song for the poor ever
sung. I quote one, not by any means the best, but one that
is peculiarly Elizabethan in a kind of breathless vitality.

"My Muse that art so merry,
When wilt thou say th'art weary?
Never, I know it, never!
This flight thou couldst keep ever:
Thy shapes which so do vary
Beyond thy bounds thee carry.
Now plume thy ruffled wings,
He's hoarse who always sings." ¹²⁷

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