eated with the ups and downs of the melody inverted. Dozens of
devices may be observed, but all are servants of an endless invention.

The variety of the songs and recitatives is wondrous. Purcell was one of
the very greatest masters of declamation. In his recitative we are
leagues removed from the "just accent" of Harry Lawes. It is
passionate, or pathetic, or powerfully dramatic, or simply descriptive
(in a way), or dignified, as the situation requires. "Let the dreadful
engines" and "Ye twice ten hundred deities" have, strange to say, long
been famous, in spite of their real splendour; and another great
specimen is the command of Aeolus to the winds (in _King Arthur_)--"Ye
blustering breezes ... retire, and let Britannia rise." The occasion is
a pantomime, but Purcell used it for a master-stroke. He wrote every
kind of recitative as it had never been written before in any language,
and as it has not been written in English since. In the songs the words
often suggest the melodic outline, as well as dictate the informing
spirit. Many are rollicking, jolly; some touchingly expressive; most are
purely English; a few rather Italian (old school) in manner. One can see
what Purcell had gained by his study of Italian part-writing for
strings, but he could not help penning picturesque phrases.

The dances are, of course, simple in structure. When they are in the
form of passacaglias they may be huge in design and effect. The grandest
pieces are the overtures and choruses. The overtures are often very
noble, but without pomposity or grandiloquence; indeed, they move as if
unconscious of their own tremendous strength. One may hear half a dozen
bars before a stroke reveals, as by a flash of lightning, the artistic
purpose with which the parts are moving, and the enormous heat and
energy that move them. When strength and sinew are wanted in the
themes, they are there, and contrapuntal adaptability is there; but they
are real living themes, not ossified or petrified formulas. Themes,
part-writing and harmony are closely bound up in one another, and
harmony is not the least important. Purcell liked daring harmonies, and
they arise organically out of the firm march of individual parts.
Excepting sometimes for a special purpose, he does not dump them down as
accompaniment to an upper part. The "false relations" and "harsh
progressions" of which the theorists prate do not exist for an
unprejudiced ear. In writing the flattened leading