What Things in Music Have the Power to Induce a Man into Diverse Passions

If I did not fear being held a slanderer, I should like now to show in part the ignorance and the temerity of certain modern Musicians, who, because they know how to put together four or six musical Ciphers, preach of themselves the greatest things in the world, reckoning the ancients as nothing and esteeming little any of the modern composers — so that whoever heard them would without doubt say that they were worth more in the art of Music than Plato and Aristotle were worth in Philosophy.

These men at times, after having racked their brains for many days, put forth certain compositions of theirs with such reputation and pride that they think they have composed another Iliad, or another Odyssey far more learned than Homer’s.

Wretches, they ought indeed to perceive their own error: for one does not hear that by means of their compositions the modesty and honesty of any woman has been preserved, as one of the ancients once preserved the modesty of Clytemnestra, wife of Agamemnon, as Homer and Strabo left written.

Nor does one hear that Music in our times has driven anyone to take up arms, as one reads in many authors, and especially in Basil the Great concerning Alexander the Great, who was urged by Timotheus the musician, by means of Music, to perform such an effect.

Nor does one hear that by their singing they have made any furious man grow gentle, as Ammonius shows of a young man of Tauromenium who, by the shrewdness of Pythagoras and the skill of the Musician, from furious as he was became humane and agreeable.

But one hears the contrary well enough: that the shameful and filthy words contained in their songs often corrupt the chaste minds of the hearers.

And although these men are worthy of every blame and every chastisement, yet more to be reproved and chastised are those who, instead of admonishing them of their sheepishness, take great pleasure in it, and greatly rejoice, and highly praise such songs — showing outwardly how well composed they are in their inward habit.

But at this we ought not to marvel, since the lascivious soul (as Boethius says) either delights and takes pleasure in the lascivious Modes, or else, hearing them often, becomes soft and effeminate: for every like thing desires its like.

But let us now leave these men, since these and other like errors might long be lamented but not amended; and let us return to our first purpose, and say that we ought greatly to praise and revere the ancient Musicians, seeing that by their skill, through the means of Music practised in the manner shown, there followed such and so many marvellous effects that to wish to recount them would be past belief.

But so that these things may not seem fabulous and strange to hear, we shall see what could have been the cause of such movements. Whence, if we will examine the whole, we shall find that Four are the things which have always concurred together in such effects, and that were any one of them lacking, nothing or little could have been seen.

The first, then, was the Harmony, which arises from sounds or voices. The second was the determined Number contained in the Verse, which they called Metre. The third was the Narration of some matter which should contain some habit of character, and this was the Oration, or Speech. The fourth and last was a Subject well disposed, apt to receive some passion.

And I have said this because, if we take simple Harmony without adding anything else to it, it will have no power to produce any of the outward effects related above — although it would have power, in a certain manner, to dispose the soul inwardly, so as more easily to express certain passions or effects, such as laughing or weeping.

And that this is true we may understand from this: that if anyone hears a song which expresses nothing but the harmony, he takes pleasure in it only for the proportion which is found in the distances of the sounds or voices; and he is prepared and disposed inwardly, in a certain manner, toward gladness or toward sadness — but he is not induced by it to express any outward effect, by laughing or weeping, or by doing anything manifest.

If to such harmony there is then added the determined and proportioned Number, at once it takes great force and moves the soul, as is discerned in Dances, which often induce us to accompany them with certain outward movements of the body, and to show the pleasure we take in such a proportioned addition.

Adding then to these two things the Oration, that is Speech, which expresses habits of character by means of the narration of some history or fable, it is impossible to say how great is the force of these three things joined together.

It is quite true that, were the disposed Subject not present — that is, the Hearer, who should willingly hear these things and take delight in them — no effect could be seen, and the Musician would accomplish nothing or little.

For just as it happens to the Soldier, who, being naturally inclined to matters of war, is little moved by those which treat of peace and quiet, and is at times stirred by discourses of arms and of the field, which greatly delight him — so discourse of arms gives no delight, or little, to the man who is by nature peaceful, quiet, and religious; while discourse of matters of peace and of celestial glory will many times move his soul and constrain him to weep.

And just as chaste discourses move the Lecher little, so those which are lascivious and filthy weary the temperate and chaste man: for everyone willingly hears discourse of that thing in which he most delights, and by such discourses is supremely moved; and contrariwise, he holds in hatred those which are not conformable to his nature, and by such discourses cannot be stirred.

Wherefore, if Alexander, son of Philip King of Macedonia, was driven by Timotheus the musician, and by Xenophantus (as some will have it), to take up arms with great fury, we ought not to marvel: for he was so disposed that he willingly and with the greatest pleasure heard discourses treating of matters of war, and by such discourses was led to do marvellous things.

Whence a certain man showed this well to some who marvelled that Music should have so much force, saying: If this Xenophantus is so valorous a man as they say of him, why does he not find some measures that shall call him back from the battle? Meaning to infer that it was no great thing, nor of much art, to push a man toward that side to which by his own nature he is inclined; but that it would indeed be a marvellous thing to draw him back from it. And so it is in truth.

Therefore, if Alexander attended to nothing else but those things which could lead him to an immortal glory — which were arms — it was no difficult matter to induce him to do the effects related. And how thirsty he was for that glory may be understood from this: that he sought to surpass everyone, and bore envy to whoever might be in arms, for he never reckoned himself inferior in such a matter to any man, however much he bore it toward Achilles for having had Homer, who sang of him in so sublime a style. Whence he showed it, for one reads that:

Giunto Alessandro alla famosa tomba Del fero Achille, sospirando disse, O fortunato, che sì chiara tromba Havesti, che di te sì alto scrisse.

[When Alexander came to the famous tomb of fierce Achilles, he said with a sigh: O fortunate man, who had so clear a trumpet to write of you so loftily.]

Such a Subject, then, is required, seeing that without it (as I have also said) nothing or little would be seen.

And although in such movements wrought by Music the things named all concur, nevertheless the prize and the honour are given to the compound of the first three, which is called Melody. For although Harmony alone has a certain power to dispose the soul and make it glad or sorrowful, and although by the Number put into act its forces are doubled, yet these two things placed together are not powerful enough to generate any outward passion in any subject in the manner described, seeing that they acquire such power from the Oration, which expresses certain habits of character.

And that this is true we may see: for Alexander was not moved by the harmony alone, nor even by the harmony accompanied with number, but rather (as Suidas, Euthymius, and others besides will have it) by the Orthian law commemorated above, and by the Phrygian Mode.

By which mode, and perhaps also by such a Law, the aforesaid drunken young man of Tauromenium (as Boethius relates) was driven when he tried to burn the house of that rival of his, in which a harlot was hidden. Whereupon Pythagoras, knowing of the matter, commanded the Musician to change the Mode and to sing the Spondee, with which he calmed the young man’s wrath and restored him to his former state.

Arion too, a Musician and the inventor of the Dithyramb (according to the opinion of Herodotus and of Dio Chrysostom), took the boldness to cast himself into the sea, having first (in my judgement) sought to compose in himself, by means of such a law (as Gellius sets down), an intrepid and manly spirit, so as to be able to do such a thing without any fear.

Now we may see that such movements, so brought about, were made not by virtue of the first parts of Melody, but rather by the whole — that is, by Melody itself, which has great force in us by virtue of its third part, namely the words, which concur in its composition.

For Speech by itself, without harmony and number, has great force to move the soul: seeing that if we have regard to such a matter, we shall see that at times, when we hear some Fable or History read or recounted, we are constrained to laugh or to weep; and sometimes it induces us to wrath and to anger; and at times it makes us glad from sorrowful, and so contrariwise.

Speech, then, moves us to fury, and calms us; makes us cruel, and softens us.

How many times has it happened that, some piteous History or Novella being simply read, the hearers have not been seized by compassion in such a manner that, in spite of themselves, after some sighs they have had to accompany them with tears? On the other hand, how many times has it come about that, some Jest or Prank being read or told, some have not almost burst with laughter?

And it is no marvel: for most often, if something worthy of commiseration is represented to us, the soul is moved and led to weep. And if we hear a thing which has something fierce and cruel in it, the soul inclines and bends to that side.

And of this (besides that it is manifest) Plato is witness, when he says: that whenever any of us hears Homer, or some other tragic Poet, imitating one of the Heroes afflicted with grief crying out loudly and lamenting his fortune in mournful measures, beating his breast with his fists — in a certain manner we take delight, and having a certain inclination toward such things we follow them, and together we are seized by such passions, and we praise as a good Poet the one who greatly moves our soul.

This Aristotle confirms yet more expressly, saying: It is further seen that men, hearing imitations, have compassion for those cases, even though these be without number and without melody.

But if speech (as we have seen) has power to move souls and to bend them in diverse directions, and this without Harmony and without Number, so much the more will it have force when it shall be joined with Numbers, and with musical Sounds, and with Voices.

And such power is made clearly manifest by its contrary: for it is seen that those words move the soul less which are uttered without melody and proportion, than those which are uttered with due measures.

Speech therefore has great force of itself, but has far more force when it is joined to harmony, by reason of the likeness which harmony has with us, and to the power of Hearing. Seeing that nothing is so joined with our minds (as Cicero says) as Numbers and Voices, by which we are moved, inflamed, calmed, and made languid. Is it not a great marvel (says he) that stones, deserts, caverns, and grottoes answer to voices? And that cruel and fierce beasts are often made gentle by singing, and are stopped by it?

Nor ought we to marvel at this: seeing that if merely seeing a history or fable painted moves us now to compassion, now induces us to laugh, and now impels us to anger, so much the more can speech do this, which expresses things better than any painter, however excellent, does with his brush.

Whence one reads of a man who looked upon a painted image and was moved to weep; and of Aeneas, who, having entered the temple built by Dido in new Carthage:

Videt Iliacas ex ordine pugnas, Bellaq; iam fama totum vulgata per orbem, Atridas, Priamumq;, & sævum ambobus Achillem. Constitit: & lacrymans, Quis iam locus (inquit) Achate, Quæ regio in terris nostri non plena laboris? En Priamus: sunt hic etiam sua premia laudi: Sunt lacrymæ rerum: & mentem mortalia tangunt. Solue metus: feret hæc aliquam tibi fama salutem. Sic ait: atque animum pictura pascit inani. Multa gemens, largoq; humectat flumine vultum;

[He sees the battles of Ilium in order, and the wars now spread by fame through the whole world — the sons of Atreus, and Priam, and Achilles fierce against them both. He stopped and, weeping, said: What place now, Achates, what region of the earth is not full of our suffering? Behold Priam! Here too worth has its own rewards; here too are tears for things, and mortal sorrows touch the mind. Dispel your fears: this fame will bring you some deliverance. So he speaks, and feeds his soul upon an empty picture, groaning much, and wets his face with a flooding stream.]

And of Portia, daughter of Cato of Utica, one reads also that, having seen a certain painted Panel, she wept bitterly.

And although Painting has force to move the soul, nevertheless the living voice of Demodocus, Musician and player of the Cithara, had greater force, who, bringing back to Ulysses’ memory and painting for him things past as if they had been present, constrained him to weep — by which effect (as Homer and Aristotle say) he was at once recognised by King Alcinous.

Nor did such things happen only then: for even in our own times the same is seen to happen among many Barbarous peoples. For when their Musicians recount in certain verses, to the sound of an instrument, the deeds of someone, then according to the matters they recite, those who listen change countenance, making it serene with laughter and at times dark with tears; and in such a manner they are seized by diverse passions.

It may therefore be concluded that from Melody, and principally from the Oration — in which some history or fable is contained, or some other like thing which expresses imitations and habits of character — such effects have been, and may still be, brought into act; and that Harmony and Number are things which dispose the soul, provided always that the Subject be prepared and disposed, without which every Musician would always labour in vain.