Benson - Music - A Mathematical Offering (Aug 2007).pdf

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Music: A Mathematical Oering
Dave Benson
Department of Mathematics, Meston Building, University
of Aberdeen, Aberdeen AB24 3UE, Scotland, UK
Home page: http://www.maths.abdn.ac.uk/∼bensondj/
E-mail address: \ / \ /b \ e/n \ s/o \ n/d \ j/ \ / (without the slashes)
at maths dot abdn dot ac dot uk
Date: 23rd August 2007
Version: Web
Dave Benson 1995–2007. Please email comments and cor-
rections to the above email address. The latest version in Adobe pdf format
can be found at
http://www.maths.abdn.ac.uk/∼bensondj/html/maths-music.html
I have noticed many people putting old versions of this text online, especially
on the usenet group alt.binaries.e-book.technical: PLEASE, PLEASE don’t
do this. The text is regularly updated, and your version is almost always out
of date, sometimes by several years. If the date you are reading this diers
by more than a few months from 23rd August 2007 then you can be sure that
you are reading an out of date copy. Go to my home page for a more up to
date copy.
This work is c
To Christine Natasha
iii
Ode to an Old Fiddle
From the Musical World of London (1834); 1
The poor fiddler’s ode to his old fiddle
Torn
Worn
Oppressed I mourn
B a d
S a d
Three-quarters mad
Money gone
Credit none
Duns at door
Half a score
Wife in lain
Twins again
Others ailing
Nurse a railing
Billy hooping
Betsy crouping
Besides poor Joe
With fester’d toe.
Come, then, my Fiddle,
Come, my time-worn friend,
With gay and brilliant sounds
Some sweet tho’ transient solace lend,
Thy polished neck in close embrace
I clasp, whilst joy illumines my face.
When o’er thy strings I draw my bow,
My drooping spirit pants to rise;
A lively strain I touch—and, lo!
I seem to mount above the skies.
There on Fancy’s wing I soar
Heedless of the duns at door;
Oblivious all, I feel my woes no more;
But skip o’er the strings,
As my old Fiddle sings,
“Cheerily oh! merrily go!
“Presto! good master,
“You very well know
“I will nd Music,
“If you will nd bow,
“From E, up in alto, to G, down below.”
Fatigued, I pause to change the time
For some Adagio, solemn and sublime.
With graceful action moves the sinuous arm;
My heart, responsive to the soothing charm,
Throbs equably; whilst every health-corroding care
Lies prostrate, vanquished by the soft melliuous air.
More and more plaintive grown, my eyes with tears o’erow,
And Resignation mild soon smooths my wrinkled brow.
Reedy Hautboy may squeak, wailing Flauto may squall,
The Serpent may grunt, and the Trombone may bawl;
But, by Poll, ∗ my old Fiddle’s the prince of them all.
Could e’en Dryden return, thy praise to rehearse,
His Ode to Cecilia would seem rugged verse.
Now to thy case, in annel warm to lie,
Till call’d again to pipe thy master’s eye.
∗ Apollo.
1 Quoted in Nicolas Slonimsky’s Book of Musical Anecdotes, reprinted by Schirmer,
1998.
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Contents
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CONTENTS
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