The Role of the Singer in Shakespeare's Plays

Shakespeare did not overvalue music. It is true that he sometimes wrote about music in his loftiest, most chryselephantine manner:

Here Lorenzo, the second-string lover in The Merchant of Venice, instructs Jessica with a short course in music appreciation—and in Lorenzo appreciation. He is also coaching the audience: we hear this on stage, and are supposed to feel, ah young love! ah elation! ah music! But perhaps it would be good to regard this scene with a suspicious eye. The poetry itself is pretty thick-inlaid—slathered on in a self-consciously impressive fashion; and the tactile language (touches of sweet harmony; With sweetest touches pierce your mistress’ ear) may suggest that Lorenzo is less concerned with aesthetics and Plato's philosophy of sirens on crystalline spheres than with sex—Jessica seems on the verge of an auricular insemination. Furthermore, the cue to an actual musician (the clown Stephano) shows us that the whole scene is a setup: in the Renaissance, music couldn't be procured simply by turning on a radio, but required careful preparation. Lorenzo and Jessica are cuddling together according to the script of a scenario. Music is a delight, but a staged delight.