CHAPTER VII.

ON THE DIVERSIONS OF THE METROPOLIS, AND THE COURT—THE STAGE; ITS USAGES, AND ECONOMY.

Of the diversions of the metropolis and court, some were peculiar, and some were shared in common with the country. "The countrey hath his recreations," observes Burton, "the city his several _Gymnicks_ and _exercises_, _feasts_ and _merry meetings_."—"What so pleasant as to see some _Pageant_ or sight go by, as at Coronations, Weddings, and such like solemnities, to see an Embassadour or a Prince met, received, entertained, with _Masks_, _Shews_, _Fireworks_, &c."[168:A]; and an old dramatic poet of 1590, gives us a still more copious list of town amusements:—

"—— Let nothing that's magnifical, Or that may tend to London's graceful state, Be unperform'd, as _showes_ and _solemne feastes_, _Watches in armour_, _triumphes_, _cresset lights_, _Bonefires_, _belles_, and _peales of ordinaunce_ And pleasure. See that _plaies_ be published, Mai-games and _maskes_, with mirth and minstrelsie, _Pageants_ and _school-feastes_, beares and puppet-plaies.[168:B]

"Every _palace_," continues Burton, "every _city_ almost, hath his _peculiar walks_, _cloysters_, _terraces_, _groves_, _theatres_, _pageants_, _games_, and _several recreations_[168:C];" and we purpose, in this chapter, giving some account of the leading articles thus enumerated, but more particularly of the stage, as being peculiarly connected with the design and texture of our work.

As the principal object, therefore, of the present discussion, will be the amusements usually appropriated to the capital; those which it has in common with the country shall be first enumerated, though in a more superficial way.

Of these, _card-playing_ seems to have been as universal in the days of Elizabeth, as in modern times, and carried on, too, with the same ruinous consequences to property and morals; for though Stowe tells us, when commemorating the customs of London, that "from All-Hallows eve to the day following Candlemas-day, there was, among other sports, playing at cards for counters, nails, and points, in every house, more for pastime than for gain," yet we learn from contemporary satirists, from Gosson, Stubbes, and Northbrooke[169:A], that all ranks, and especially the upper classes, were incurably addicted to gaming in the pursuit of this amusement, which they considered equally as seductive and pernicious as dice.

The games at cards peculiar to this period, and now obsolete, are, 1. _Primero_, supposed to be the most ancient game of cards in England. It was very fashionable in the age of Shakspeare, who represents Henry the Eighth playing "at _primero_ with the duke of Suffolk[169:B];" and Falstaff exclaiming in the _Merry Wives of Windsor_, "I never prospered since I foreswore myself at _primero_."[169:C]

The mode of playing this curious game is thus described by Mr. Strutt, from Mr. Barrington's papers upon card-playing, in the eighth volume of the Archæologia:—"Each player had four cards dealt to him one by one, the seven was the highest card in point of number that he could avail himself of, which counted for twenty-one, the six counted for sixteen, the five for fifteen, and the ace for the same, but the two, the three, and the four, for their respective points only. The knave of hearts was commonly fixed upon for the quinola, which the player might make what card or suit he thought proper; if the cards were of different suits, the highest number won the primero, if they were all of one colour he that held them won the flush."[170:A]

2. _Trump_, nearly coeval in point of antiquity with primero, and introduced in _Gammer Gurton's Needle_, a comedy, first acted in 1561, where Dame Chat, addressing Diccon, says,—

"We be fast set at trump, man, hard by the fyre;"[170:B]

and we learn from Decker that, in 1612, it was much in vogue:—"To speake," he remarks, "of all the sleights used by card-players in all sorts of games would but weary you that are to read, and bee but a thanklesse and unpleasing labour for me to set them down. Omitting, therefore the deceipts practised (even in the fayrest and most civill companies) at Primero, Saint Maw, _Trump_, and such like games, I will, &c."[170:C]

3. _Gleek._ This game is alluded to twice by Shakspeare[170:D]; and from a passage in Cook's _Green's Tu Quoque_, appears to have been held in much esteem:—

"_Scat._ Come, gentlemen, what is your game?

_Staines._ Why, _gleek; that's your only game_;"[170:E]

it is then proposed to play either at twelve-penny gleek, or crown gleek.[170:F]

To these may be added, _Gresco_, _Mount Saint_, _New Cut_, _Knave Out of Doors_, and _Ruff_, all of which are mentioned in old plays, and were favourites among our ancestors.[170:G]

_Tables and Dice_, enumerated by Burton after cards, include some games unknown to the present day; such as _tray-trip_, _mum-chance_, _philosopher's game_, _novum_, &c.; the first is noticed by Shakspeare in _Twelfth Night_, and appears, from a note by Mr. Tyrwhitt, to have been a species of _draughts_[171:A]; the second was also a game at tables, and is coupled by Ben Jonson in the _Alchemist_ with _tray-trip_[171:B]; the third is mentioned by Burton[171:C], and is described by Mr. Strutt from a manuscript in the British Museum.—"It is called," says the author, "'a number fight,' because in it men fight and strive together by the art of counting or numbering how one may take his adversary's king and erect a triumph upon the deficiency of his calculations[171:D];" and the fourth is introduced by Shakspeare in _Love's Labour's Lost_[171:E];—"it was properly called _novum quinque_," remarks Mr. Douce, "from the two principal throws of the dice, nine and five;—was called in French _quinque-nove_, and is said to have been invented in Flanders."[171:F]

The immoralities to which _dice_ have given birth, we are authorised in considering, from the proverbial phraseology of Shakspeare, to have been as numerous in his time as at present. The expressions "false as dice[171:G]," and "false as dicers' oaths[171:H]," will be illustrated by the following anecdote, taken from an anonymous MS. of the reign of James the First:—"Sir William Herbert, playing at dice with another gentleman, there rose some questions about a cast. Sir William's antagonist declared it was a four and a five; he as positively insisted that it was a five and a six; the other then swore with a bitter imprecation, that it was as he had said; Sir William then replied, 'Thou art a perjured knave; for give me a sixpence, and if there be a four upon the dice, I will return you a thousand pounds;' at which the other was presently abashed, for indeed the dice were false, and of a high cut, without a four."[172:A]

_Dancing_ was an almost daily amusement in the court of Elizabeth; the Queen was peculiarly fond of this exercise, as had been her father Henry the Eighth, and the taste for it became so general, during her reign, that a great part of the leisure of almost every class of society was spent, and especially on days of festivity, in dancing.

To dance elegantly was one of the strongest recommendations to the favour of Her Majesty; and her courtiers, therefore, strove to rival each other in this pleasing accomplishment; nor were their efforts, in many instances, unrewarded. Sir Christopher Hatton, we are told, owed his promotion, in a great measure, to his skill in dancing; and in accordance with this anecdote, Gray opens his "Long Story" with an admirable description of his merit in this department, which, as containing a most just and excellent picture, both of the architecture and manners of "the days of good Queen Bess," as well as of the dress and agility of the knight, we with pleasure transcribe. Stoke-Pogeis, the scene of the narrative, was formerly in the possession of the Hattons:—

"In Britain's isle, no matter where, An ancient pile of building stands; The Huntingdons and Hattons there Employ'd the pow'r of Fairy hands

To raise the cieling's fretted height, Each pannel in achievements clothing, Rich windows that exclude the light, And passages that lead to nothing.

Full oft within the spacious walls, When he had fifty winters o'er him, My grave Lord-Keeper led the _brawls_; The seal and maces danc'd before him.

His bushy beard and shoe-strings green, His high-crown'd hat and sattin doublet, Mov'd the stout heart of England's Queen. Tho' Pope and Spaniard could not trouble it."

The _Brawl_, a species of dance, here alluded to, is derived from the French word _braule_, "indicating," observes Mr. Douce, "a shaking or swinging motion.—It was performed by several persons uniting hands in a circle, and giving each other continual shakes, the steps changing with the tune. It usually consisted of three _pas_ and a _pied-joint_, to the time of four strokes of the bow; which, being repeated, was termed _a double brawl_. With this dance, balls were usually opened."[173:A]

Shakspeare seems to have entertained as high an idea of the efficacy of a _French brawl_, as probably did Sir Christopher Hatton, when he exhibited before Queen Elizabeth; for he makes Moth in _Love's Labour's Lost_ ask Armado,—"Master, will you win your love with a _French brawl_?" and he then exclaims, "These betray nice wenches."[173:B] That several dances were included under the term _brawls_, appears from a passage in Shelton's Don Quixote:—"After this there came in another artificial dance, of _those called Brawles_[173:C];" and Mr. Douce informs us, that amidst a great variety of _brawls_, noticed in Thoinot Arbeau's treatise in dancing, entitled _Orchesographie_, occurs a _Scotish brawl_; and he adds that this dance continued in fashion to the close of the seventeenth century.[173:D]

Another dance of much celebrity at this period, was the _Pavin_ or _Pavan_, which, from the solemnity of its measure, seems to have been held in utter aversion by Sir Toby Belch, who, in reference to his intoxicated surgeon, exclaims,—"Then he's a rogue. After a passy-measure, or a pavin, I hate a drunken rogue."[174:A] This is the text of Mr. Tyrwhitt; but the old copy reads,—"Then he's a rogue, and _a passy measure's pavyn_," which is probably correct; for the _pavan_ was rendered still more grave by the introduction of the _passamezzo_ air, which obliged the dancers, after making several steps round the room, to _cross it in the middle_ in a _slow step_ or cinque pace. This alteration of time occasioned the term _passamezzo_ to be prefixed to the name of several dances; thus we read of the _passamezzo galliard_, as well as the _passamezzo pavan_; and Sir Toby, by applying the latter appellation to his surgeon, meant to call him, not only a rogue, but a solemn coxcomb. "The _pavan_, from _pavo_ a peacock," observes Sir J. Hawkins, "is a grave and majestick dance. The method of dancing it was anciently by gentlemen dressed with a cap and sword, by those of the long robe in their gowns, by princes in their mantles, and by ladies in gowns with long trains, the motion whereof in the dance resembled that of a peacock's tail. This dance is supposed to have been invented by the Spaniards, and its figure is given with the characters for the step, in the Orchesographia of Thoinot Arbeau.—Of the _passamezzo_ little is to be said, except that it was a favourite air in the days of Queen Elizabeth. Ligon, in his _History of Barbadoes_, mentions a _passamezzo_ galliard, which, in the year 1647, a Padre in that island played to him on the lute; the very same, he says, with an air of that kind which in Shakspeare's play of _Henry the Fourth_ was originally played to Sir John Falstaff and Doll Tearsheet, by Sneak, the musician, there named."[174:B]

Of equal gravity with the "doleful pavin," as Sir W. D'Avenant calls it, was _The Measure_, to _tread_ which was the relaxation of the most dignified characters in the state, and formed a part of the revelry of the inns of court, where the gravest lawyers were often found _treading the measures_. Shakspeare puns upon the name of this dance, and contrasts it with the Scotch jig, in _Much Ado about Nothing_, where he introduces Beatrice telling her cousin Hero,—"The fault will be in the musick, cousin, if you be not woo'd in good time: if the prince be too important, tell him, there is _measure_ in every thing, and so _dance out_ the answer. For hear me, Hero: Wooing, wedding, and repenting, is as a Scotch jig, _a measure_, and a cinque-pace: the first suit is hot and hasty, like a Scotch jig, and full as fantastical: the wedding, mannerly-modest, as a _measure full of state and ancientry_; and then comes repentance, and, with his bad legs, falls into the cinque-pace faster and faster, till he sink into his grave."[175:A]

A more brisk and lively step accompanied the _Canary dance_, which was, likewise, very fashionable:—"I have seen a medicine," says Lafeu in _All's Well that Ends Well_, alluding to the influence of female charms,—

"That's able to breathe life into a stone; Quicken a rock, and _make you dance canary, With spritely fire and motion_;"[175:B]

and Moth advises Armado, when dancing the brawl, to _Canary it_ with his feet.[175:C]

The mode of performing this dance, is thus given by Mr. Douce, from the treatise of Thoinot Arbeau:—"A lady is taken out by a gentleman, and after dancing together to the cadences of the proper air, he leads her to the end of the hall; this done he retreats back to the original spot, always looking at the lady. Then he makes up to her again, with certain steps, and retreats as before. His partner performs the same ceremony, which is several times repeated by both parties, with various strange fantastic steps, very much in the savage style."[175:D]

Beside the _brawl_, the _pavan_, the _measure_, and the _canary_, several other dances were in vogue, under the general titles of _corantoes_, _lavoltos_, _jigs_, _galliards_, and _fancies_, but the four which we have selected for more peculiar notice, appear to have been the most celebrated.

It is a melancholy proof of the imperfect state of civilisation during the reign of Elizabeth, that the barbarous sport of _Bear and Bullbeating_ should have been as favourite a diversion of the court, nobility, and gentry, as of the lowest class of society. Indeed it would appear, from an order issued by the privy council, in July, 1591, that the populace had earlier than their superiors become tired of this cruel spectacle, and had given a marked preference to the amusements of the stage; for it is enacted in the above order, that there should be no plays publickly exhibited on _Thursdays_; because on _Thursdays_, _bear-baiting_ and such like pastimes had been _usually_ practised; and four days afterwards an injunction to the same effect was sent to the Lord Mayor, in which, after justly reprobating the performance of plays on the Sabbath, it is added, that on "all other days of the week in divers place the players do use to recite their plays to the _great hurt and destruction of the game of bear-baiting, and like pastimes, which are maintained for her Majesty's pleasure_."[176:A]

History informs us that Elizabeth's pleasure was thus gratified at an early period of her life, and continued to be so to the close of her reign. When confined at Hatfield house, she, and her sister, Queen Mary, were recreated with a grand exhibition of bear-baiting, "_with which their highnesses were right well content_."[176:B] Soon after she had ascended the throne, she entertained the French ambassadors with bear and bull baiting, and stood a spectatress of the amusement until six in the evening; a similar exhibition took place the next day at Paris-Garden, for the same party; and even twenty-seven years posterior, Her Majesty could not devise a more welcome gratification for the Danish ambassador, than the display of such a spectacle at Greenwich.

So decided a partiality for this savage pastime would, of course, induce her courtiers to take care that their mistress should not be disappointed in this respect, and more especially when she honoured them with one of her periodical visits. Accordingly Laneham tells us, that when she was at Kenelworth Castle, in 1575, not less than thirteen bears were provided for her diversion, and that these were baited with a large species of ban-dogs.[177:A]

An example thus set by royalty itself, soon spread through every rank, and bear and bull baiting became one of the most general amusements in England. Shakspeare has alluded to it in more than twenty places, and it has equally attracted the notice of the foreign and domestic historian. Hentzner, whose Itinerary was printed in Latin A. D. 1598, was a spectator at one of these exhibitions, which he describes in the following manner: speaking of the theatres he says, "there is still another place, built in the form of a theatre, which serves for the baiting of bulls and bears; they are fastened behind, and then worried by great English bull-dogs, but not without great risque to the dogs, from the horns of the one, and the teeth of the other; and it sometimes happens they are killed on the spot; fresh ones are immediately supplied in the places of those that are wounded or tired." He then adds an account of a still more inhuman pastime:—"To this entertainment, there often follows that of whipping a blinded bear, which is performed by five or six men, standing circularly with whips, which they exercise upon him without any mercy, as he cannot escape from them because of his chain; he defends himself with all his force and skill, throwing down all who come within his reach, and are not active enough to get out of it, and tearing the whips out of their hands, and breaking them."[177:B] Stowe, in the edition of his Survey printed in 1618, remarks, that "as for the bayting of Bulles and Beares, they are till this day much frequented, namely, in Beare-gardens on the Bankside, wherein be prepared Scaffolds for beholders to stand upon."[177:C]

The admission to these gardens was upon easy terms, for we are told that the spectators paid "one pennie at the gate, another at the entrie of the scaffold, and a third for quiet standing."[178:A] It was usual also for the bearward to parade the streets with his animal, who had frequently a monkey on his back and was preceded by a minstrel. The bear was generally complimented with the name of his keeper: thus, in Shakspeare's time, there was a celebrated one at Paris Garden called _Sackerson_. "I have seen Sackerson loose," says Slender, "twenty times; and have taken him by the chain: but, I warrant you, the women have so cried and shriek'd at it, that it pass'd:—but women, indeed, cannot abide 'em; they are very ill-favoured rough things[178:B];" in the "Puritan" published in 1607, occurs one named _George Stone_; and in the "Humorous Lovers," by the Duke of Newcastle, printed in 1617, _Tom of Lincoln_ is the appellation of another.

A diversion infinitely more elegant and pleasing in all its accompaniments, once of great utility, and unattended with the smallest vestige of barbarism or inhumanity, we have now to record as resulting from the use of the long bow, which, though greatly on the decline, in the days of Elizabeth, as a weapon of warfare, still lingered amongst us as a species of amusement. Various attempts, indeed, had been made by the nearly immediate predecessors of Elizabeth, to revive the use of the long bow as a military weapon; but with very partial success:—"the most famous, prudent, politike and grave prince K. Henry the 7," says Robinson, "was the first Phenix in chusing out a number of chiefe Archers to give daily attendance upon his person, whom he named his Garde. But the high and mighty renowmed prince his son, K. H. 8. (ann. 1509) not onely with great prowes and praise proceeded in that which his father had begon; but also added greater dignity unto the same, like a most roial renowmed David, enacting a good and godly statute (ann. 33 H. 8. cap. 9.) for the use and exercise of shooting in every degree. And further more for the maintenance of the same laudable exercise in this honourable city of London by his gratious charter confirmed unto the worshipful citizens of the same, this your now famous order of Knightes of Prince Arthure's Round Table or Society: like as in his life time when he saw a good Archer indeede, he chose him and ordained such a one for a knight of the same order."[179:A]

To this "Auncient Order, Societie, and Unitie Laudable, of Prince Arthure," as it was termed, and to which Shakspeare alludes, under the character of Justice Shallow, in the second part of _King Henry the Fourth_[179:B], Archery owed, for some time, considerable support; but ultimately, it contributed to hasten its decline. Under the auspices of Prince Arthur, eldest son of King Henry VII., and who was so expert a bowman, that every skilful shooter was complimented with his name, the society flourished abundantly; its captain being honoured with his title, and the other members being termed his knights. His brother Henry was equally attached to the art, but unfortunately, having appointed a splendid match at shooting with the long bow, at Windsor, an inhabitant of Shoreditch, London, joining the archers, exhibited such extraordinary skill, that the King, delighted with his performance, humorously gave him the title of Duke of Shoreditch, an appellation which not only superseded the former title, but, being copied by the inferior members, in assuming the rank of Marquis, Earl, &c., threw such a degree of burlesque and ridicule over the business, as finally brought contempt upon the art itself.

The Society, however, still subsisted with much magnificence during the reign of Elizabeth; and in the very year that Robinson published his book in support of Archery, namely, in 1583, "a grand shooting match was held in London, and the captain of the archers assuming his title of Duke of Shoreditch, summoned a suit of nominal nobility, under the titles of Marquis of Barlo, of Clerkenwell, of Islington, of Hoxton, of Shacklewell, and Earl of Pancrass, &c., and these meeting together at the appointed time, with their different companies, proceeded in a pompous march from Merchant Taylors' Hall, consisting of three thousand archers, sumptuously apparelled; nine hundred and forty-two of them having chains of gold about their necks. This splendid company was guarded by four thousand whifflers and billmen, besides pages and footmen. They passed through Broad-street, the residence of their captain, and thence into Moorfields, by Finsbury, and so on to Smithfield, where having performed several evolutions, they shot at a target for honour."[180:A]

Notwithstanding this brilliant celebration, it appears that, thirteen years afterwards, the disuse of archery was so general, that the "Companies of Bowyers and Fletchers" made heavy complaints, and procured a work to be written, in order to place before "the nobility and gentlemen of England," their distress, and deprivation of subsistence, from the neglect of the bow. The work is entitled, "A briefe Treatise, To proove the necessitie and excellence of the Vse of Archerie. Abstracted out of ancient and moderne writers, by R. S. Perused and allowed by Aucthoritie." 4to. 1596. This was one of the last attempts to revive the bow as a weapon of defence, and it records a contemporary and successful effort to repel cavalry by its adoption on the part of a rebel force.

"About Bartholomew tyde last, 1595," relates the author, "there came out of Scotland one James Forgeson, bowyer to the King of Scots, who credibly reported, that about two years past, certaine rebelles did rise there against the King, who sent against them five hundred horsemen well appointed. They meeting three hundred of the rebel's bowmen, encountered each with other, when the bowemen slue two hundred and fourscore of their horses, and killed, wounded, and sore hurt most part of the Kinge's men. Whereupon the said Forgeson was sent hether from the King with commission to buy up ten thousande bowes and bowstaves: but because he could not speed heer, he went over into the East countries for them."[181:A]

The Toxophilus of Ascham, first published in 1544, was written in order "that stil, according to the olde wont of Englande, youth should use it for the _most honest pastime in peace_, that men might handle it as a _most sure weapon in warre_."[181:B] The latter of these purposes so completely failed, that the use of the bow as an offensive or defensive weapon of warfare totally ceased in the time of James the First; but the former was partially gained, as the treatise of Ascham certainly contributed to prolong the reign of archery as a mere recreation, though it could not retrieve its character as an instrument for the destruction of game. So early, indeed, as 1531, we learn from Sir Thomas Elyot's "Boke named the Governour," that cross-bows and guns had then superseded the long-bow, in the sports of the field:—"Verylye I suppose," says he, "that before crosbowes and handegunnes were broughte into this realme, by the sleyghte of our enemies, to the entent to distroye the noble defence of archerye, continuall use of shootynge in the longe bowe made the feate soo perfecte and exacte among englyshemen, that thei than as surely and soone kylled suche game whiche thei lysted to have, as thei nowe can do with the crossebowe or gunne."[181:C]

The cross-bow was the fashionable instrument for killing game, even with the ladies, in the days of Elizabeth; the Queen was peculiarly fond of the sport, and her example was eagerly followed by the female part of her court. Shakspeare represents the Princess and her ladies, in _Love's Labour's Lost_, thus employed[182:A]; and Mr. Lodge informs us, through the medium of a letter, written by Sir Francis Leake in 1605, that the Countess of Shrewsbury, and the ladies of the Cavendish family, were ardently attached to this diversion.[182:B]

That the _honest pastime_ of shooting with the long bow was often commuted, in the capital, for amusements of a much less innocent nature, we learn from Stowe, who attributes the decline of archery, as a diversion, to the enclosure of common grounds in the vicinity of the metropolis:—"What should I speake," says he, "of the ancient dayly exercises in the long Bow by citizens of this citie, now almoste cleane left off and forsaken: I over passe it: for by the meanes of closing in of common grounds, our Archers for want of roome to shoote abroad, creep into bowling allies, and ordinarie dicing-houses neerer home, where they have roome enough to hazard their money at unlawfull games."[182:C]

Among the amusements more peculiarly belonging to the metropolis, and which better than any other exhibits the fashionable mode, at that time, of disposing of the day, we may enumerate the custom of publickly parading in the middle isle of St. Paul's Cathedral. During the reign of Elizabeth and James, _Paul's Walk_, as it was called, was daily frequented by the nobility, gentry, and professional men; here, from ten to twelve in the forenoon, and from three to six in the afternoon, they met to converse on business, politics, or pleasure; and hither too, in order to acquire fashions, form assignations for the gaming table, or shun the grasp of the bailiff, came the gallant, the gamester, and the debtor, the stale knight, and the captain out of service; and here it was that Falstaff purchased Bardolph; "I bought him," says the jolly knight, "at Paul's."[183:A]

Of the various purposes for which this temple was frequented by the loungers of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, Decker has left us a most entertaining account, and from his tract on this subject, published in 1609, we shall extract a few passages which throw no incurious light on the follies and dissipation of the age.

The supposed tomb of Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, but in reality that of Guy Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick, appears to have been a privileged part of the Cathedral:—"The Duke's tomb," observes Decker, addressing the gallant, "is a sanctuary; and will keep you alive from worms, and land rats, that long to be feeding on your carcass: there you may spend your legs in winter a whole afternoon; converse, plot, laugh, and talk any thing; jest at your creditor, even to his face; and in the evening, even by lamp-light, steal out; and so cozen a whole covey of abominable catch-polls."[183:B]

Such was the resort of the male fashionable world to this venerable Gothic pile, that it was customary for trades-people to frequent its aisles for the purpose of collecting the dresses of the day. "If you determine to enter into a new suit, warn your tailor to attend you in Pauls, who, with his hat in his hand, shall like a spy discover the stuff, colour, and fashion of any doublet or hose that dare be seen there, and, stepping behind a pillar to fill his table books with those notes, will presently send you into the world an accomplished man; by which means you shall wear your clothes in print with the first edition."[183:C]

The author even condescends to instruct his beau, when he has obtained his suit, how best to exhibit it in St. Paul's, and concludes by pointing out other recourses for killing time, on withdrawing from the cathedral. "Bend your course directly in the middle line, that the whole body of the church may appear to be yours; where, in view of all, you may publish your suit in what manner you affect most, either with the slide of your cloak from the one shoulder: and then you must, as 'twere in anger, suddenly snatch at the middle of the inside, if it be taffeta at the least; and so by that means your costly lining is betrayed, or else by the pretty advantage of compliment. But one note by the way do I especially woo you to, the neglect of which makes many of our gallants cheap and ordinary, that by no means you be seen above four turns; but in the fifth make yourself away, either in some of the semsters' shops, the new tobacco-office, or amongst the booksellers, where, if you cannot read, exercise your smoke, and inquire who has writ against this divine weed, &c."[184:A]

After dinner it was necessary that the finished coxcomb should return to Paul's in a new dress:—"After dinner you may appear again, having translated yourself out of your English cloth into a light Turkey grogram, if you have that happiness of shifting; and then be seen, for a turn or two, to correct your teeth with some quill or silver instrument, and to cleanse your gums with a wrought handkerchief: it skills not whether you dined, or no; that is best known to your stomach; or in what place you dined; though it were with cheese, of your own mother's making, in your chamber or study."[184:B]

The fopperies exhibited in a place, which ought to have been closed against such unhallowed inmates, rival, if not exceed, all that modern puppyism can produce. The directions which Decker gives to his gallant on quitting St. Paul's in the forenoon, clearly prove, that the loungers of Shakspeare's time are not surpassed, either in affectation or the assumption of petty consequence, by the same worthless class of the nineteenth century:—"in which departure," enjoins the satirist, "if by chance you either encounter, or aloof off throw your inquisitive eye upon any knight or squire, being your familiar, salute him not by his name of Sir such a one, or so; but call him Ned, or Jack, &c. This will set off your estimation with great men: and if, though there be a dozen companies between you, 'tis the better, he call aloud to you, for that is most genteel, to know where he shall find you at two o'clock; tell him at such an ordinary, or such; and be sure to name those that are dearest, and whither none but your gallants resort."[185:A]

A still more offensive mode of displaying this ostentatious folly, sprang from a custom then general, and even now not altogether obsolete, of demanding _spur-money_ from any person entering the cathedral during divine service, with spurs on. This was done by the younger choristers, and, it seems, frequently gave birth to the following gross violation of decency: "Never be seen to mount the steps into the quire, but upon a high festival day, to prefer the fashion of your doublet; and especially if the singing-boys seem to take note of you; for they are able to buzz your praises above their anthems, if their voices have not lost their maiden heads: but be sure your silver spurs dog your heels, and then the boys will swarm about you like so many white butterflies[185:B]; when you in the open quire shall draw forth a perfumed embroidered purse, the glorious sight of which will entice many countrymen from their devotion to wondering: and quoit silver into the boy's hands, that it may be heard above the first lesson, although it be read in a voice as big as one of the great organs."[185:C]

The tract from which we have taken these curious illustrations, contains also a passage which serves to show, that London, in the time of our poet, was not unprovided with exhibitions of the docility, sagacity, and tricks of animals; and this, with similar relations, will tend to prove, that the ingenious Mr. Astley, and the Preceptor of the learned pig, had been anticipated both in skill and perseverance. Decker, after conducting his "mere country gentleman" to the top of St. Paul's, proceeds thus:—"Hence you may descend, to talk about the _horse_ that went up; and strive, if you can, to know his keeper; take the day of the month, and the number of the steps; and suffer yourself to believe verily that it was not a horse, but something else in the likeness of one: which wonders you may publish, when you return into the country, to the great amazement of all farmer's daughters, that will almost swoon at the report, and never recover till their bans be asked twice in the church."[186:A]

This is the _dancing-horse_ alluded to by Shakspeare, in _Love's Labour's Lost_[186:B]; an English bay gelding, fourteen years old, and named _Morocco_. He had been taught by one Banks, a Scotchman, and their fame was spread over a great part of Europe; "if Banks had lived in older times," remarks Sir Walter Raleigh, "he would have shamed all the inchanters in the world: for whosoever was most famous among them, could never master, or instruct any beast as he did."[186:C] It was the misfortune, indeed, of this man and his horse to be taken for enchanters; while at Paris, they had a narrow escape, being imprisoned for dealing with the devil, and at length liberated, on the magistrates discovering that the whole was merely the effect of human art[186:D]; but at Rome they fell a sacrifice to the more rivetted superstitions of the people, and were both burnt as magicians; a fate to which Ben Jonson adverts in the following lines:—

"But amongst those Tiberts, who do you think there was? Old _Bankes_ the juggler, our Pythagoras, Grave tutor to the learned horse. Both which, Being, beyond sea, burned for one witch, Their spirits transmigrated to a cat."[186:E]

Nor were the feats of this sagacious horse unrivalled by the wonderful acquirements of other animals. The praise of _Morocco_ is frequently combined by the poets and satirists of the age, with an account of the extraordinary tricks of his contemporary brutes: thus John Taylor, the water-poet, places Holden's camel on a level with Banks's horse:—

"Old Holden's _camel_, or fine Bankes his _cut_;"

and Bishop Hall, in his satires, brings us acquainted with a sagacious elephant, to which he kindly adds a couple of wonders of a different description; a _bullock with two tails_, and a _fiddling friar_. He is describing the metamorphosis which London had produced in the person and manners of a young farmer, and adds,

"The tenants wonder at their landlord's sonne, And blesse them at so sudden coming on, More than who vies his pence to view some trick Of strange _Marocco's_ dumb arithmetick, Of the young _elephant_, or _two-tayl'd steere_, Or the rigg'd camel, or _fiddling frere_."[187:A]

The catalogue of wonders, monsters, and tricks, may be augmented by a reference to Ben Jonson, who, in his _Bartholomew Fair_, among other spectacles, speaks of a _Bull with five legs and two pizzles_, _Dogs dancing the morrice_, and a _Hare beating the Tabor_.[187:B]

But of all the amusements which distinguish the age of Shakspeare, none could vie in richness, splendour, or invention, with the costly spectacles, called MASQUES, and PAGEANTS. The frequency of these exhibitions during the reigns of Elizabeth and James is astonishing, if we consider the immense expense which was lavished on their production; the most celebrated poets and the most skilful artists often assisted in their formation; nor was it uncommon to behold nobility, or even royalty itself, assuming the part of actors in these romantic entertainments.

What a gorgeous and voluptuous court could effect, in seconding the efforts of consummate skill, through the medium of machinery, decoration, and dress, may be collected from the numerous Masques of Ben Jonson, who seems to feel the inadequacy of language to express the beauty, grandeur, and sumptuousness of the devices employed on these occasions. Thus, in his _Hymenæi, or the Solemnities of Masque and Barriers at a Marriage_, he manifestly labours to paint the scene, and, at length, professes himself unequal to the task of conveying the impressions which it had made upon him. "Hitherto," says he, "extended the first night's solemnity, whose grace in the execution left, not where to add to it, with wishing: I mean (nor do I court them) in those, that sustained the nobler parts. Such was the _exquisite performance_, as (beside the _pomp_, _splendor_, or what we may call _apparelling_ of such _presentments_), that alone (had all else been absent) was of power _to surprise with delight, and steal away the spectators from themselves_. Nor was there wanting whatsoever might give to the furniture or complement; either in _riches, or strangeness of the habits, delicacy of dances, magnificence of the scene, or divine rapture of musick_. Only the envy was, that it lasted not still; or, (now it is past) _cannot by imagination, much less description, be recovered to a part of that spirit it had in the gliding by_."[188:A]

Nothing, indeed, shows the romantic disposition of Elizabeth, and, indeed, of her times, more evidently than the Triumph, as it was called, devised and performed with great solemnity, in honour of the French commissioners for the Queen's marriage with the Duke of Anjou, in 1581. The contrivance was for four of her principal courtiers, under the quaint appellation of "four foster-children of Desire," to besiege and carry, by dint of arms, "The Fortress of Beauty;" intending, by this courtly ænigma, nothing less than the Queen's Majesty's own person. The actors in this famous triumph were, the _Earl of Arundel_, the _Lord Windsor_, _Master Philip Sidney_, and _Master Fulk Grevil_. And the whole was conducted so entirely in the spirit and language of knight-errantry, that nothing in the Arcadia itself is more romantic.[189:A]

The example of the court was followed with equal profusion by the citizens, and various corporate bodies of the capital, who contended with each other in the cost bestowed on these performances. In 1604, when King James and his Queen passed triumphantly from the Tower to Westminster, the citizens erected seven gates or arches, in different parts of the space through which the procession had to proceed. Over the first arch "was represented the true likeness of all the notable houses, towers, and steeples, within the citie of London.—The sixt arche or gate of triumph was erected above the Conduit in Fleete-Streete, whereon the _Globe_ of the world was seen to move, &c. At Temple-bar a seaventh arche or gate was erected, the forefront whereof was proportioned in every respect like a _Temple_, being dedicated to Janus, &c.—The citie of Westminster, and dutchy of Lancaster, at the Strand, had erected the invention of a rainbow, the moone, sunne, and starres, advanced between two Pyramids."[190:A]

In 1612-13, the gentlemen of the inns of court presented a masque in honour of the marriage of the Elector Palatine of the Rhine, with the Princess Elizabeth, of which the poetry was the composition of Chapman, and the machinery the invention of Inigo Jones. The expense of this pageantry amounted, according to Dugdale[190:B], to one thousand and eighty-six pounds eight shillings and eleven pence, and was conducted with uncommon splendour. "First rode," relates Howes, "fiftie choyce gentlemen richly attyred, and as gallantly mounted, with every one his footemen to attend him: These rode very stately like a vauntguard." Next to these appeared an _antique_ or _mock-masque_. "After them came two chariots triumphal, very pleasant and full of state, wherein rode the choyce musitians of this kingdome, in robes like to the Virginian priests, with sundry devises, all pleasant and significant, with two rankes of torches: Then came the chiefe maskers with great State in white Indian habit, or like the great princes of Barbary, richly imbrodered with the golden sun, with suteable ornaments in all poynts, about their necks were rufs of feathers, spangled and beset with pearle and silver, and upon their heads lofty corronets suteable to the rest."[190:C]

Nor were these fanciful and ever varying pageants productive merely of amusement; they had higher aims, and more important effects, and, while ostensibly constructed for the purposes of compliment and entertainment, either indirectly inculcated some lesson of moral wisdom, or more immediately obtained their end, by impersonating the vices and the virtues, and exhibiting a species of ethic drama.

They had also the merit of conveying no inconsiderable fund of instruction from the stores of mythology, history, and philosophy. Of this the masques of Jonson afford abundant proof, containing, as they do, not only the common superficial knowledge on these subjects, but displaying such a mass of recondite learning, illustrative of the manners, opinions, customs, and antiquities of the ancient world, as would serve to extend the information of the educated, while they delighted and instructed the body of the people.

To these _classical diversions_, these _eruditæ voluptates_, which were remarkably frequent during the whole era of Shakspeare's existence, we may confidently ascribe some portion of that intimacy with the records of history, the fictions of paganism, and the reveries of philosophy which our poet so copiously exhibits throughout his poems and plays, as well as no small accession to the wild and fantastic visionary forms that so pre-eminently delight us in the golden dreams of his imagination.

Among the numerous scenes and descriptions which owe their birth, in our author's dramas, to these superb combinations of mechanism and poesy, we shall select two passages that more peculiarly point out the manner in which he has availed himself of their scenery and arrangement.

"There is a passage in _Antony and Cleopatra_," observes Mr. Warton, "where the metaphor is exceedingly beautiful; but where the beauty both of the expression and the allusion is lost, unless we recollect the frequency and the nature of these shows (the Pageants) in Shakspeare's age. I must cite the whole of the context, for the sake of the last hemistick.

"_Ant._ Sometime we see a cloud that's dragonish, A vapour sometime, like a bear or lion; A towred citadel, a pendant rock, A forked mountain, or blue promontory With trees upon't, that nod unto the world, And mock our eyes with air: Thou hast seen these signs; They are _Black Vesper's Pageants_."[191:A]

This illustrious critic, however, should have continued the quotation somewhat further; for the next three lines include a piece of imagery immediately taken from the same source, and more worthy of remark than any preceding allusion:—

"_Eros._ Ay, my lord.

_Ant._ That, which is now a horse; even with a thought, The _Rack dislimns_; and makes it indistinct, As water is in water."[192:A]

The meaning of the expression, "The Rack dislimns," is clearly ascertained by a reference to Ben Jonson's _Hymenæal Masque_ already quoted, in which occurs the following striking passage:—"Here the upper part of the scene, which was all of clouds, and made artificially to swell and ride like the _Rack_, began to open, and the air clearing, in the top thereof was discovered Juno sitting in a throne, supported by two beautiful peacocks.—Round about her sate the spirits of the ayre, in several colours, making musique. Above her the region of fire, with a continual motion, was seen to whirl circularly, and Jupiter standing in the top (figuring the heaven) brandishing his thunder. Beneath her the rainbow Iris, and, on the two sides eight ladies, attired richly, and alike, in the most celestial colours, who represented her powers, as she is the Governess of Marriage."[192:B]

This extract, also, together with the one given in a preceding page, descriptive of the _Citizen's Pageant_ in honour of James and his Queen, 1604, will throw a strong light on a celebrated passage in the _Tempest_, and fully prove our poet's extensive obligations to these very ingenious devices:—

"Our revels now are ended: These our actors, As I foretold you, were _all spirits_, and Are _melted into air, into thin air_: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capt _towers_, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn _temples_, the great _globe_ itself, Yea all, which it inherit, shall dissolve; And, like this _insubstantial pageant_ faded, Leave not a _rack_ behind."[193:A]

The _towers_, the _temples_, and the _great globe itself_ of these lines, we find exhibited in the pageant of 1604, eight or ten years anterior to the representation of this play; while in the masque of Jonson, we perceive the occasion of its performance to have been similar to that which gave origin to the _insubstantial pageant_ of Prospero, both being _Hymenæal Masques_, both likewise including among their actors the characters of _Iris_ and _Juno_, and both being accompanied by _spirits of the ayre making musick_.

Here the term _rack_, in both quotations from our poet, manifestly appears, from the passage in Ben Jonson's masque, to have been drawn from the machinery of the _pageant_, and to have implied _masses of clouds in motion_; the lines from _Antony and Cleopatra_, alluding to their mutability and endless diversity, and those in the _Tempest_ importing their utter insignificance and instability when compared with the more durable materials of the _pageant_; and hence emphatically founding on their evanescence, a complete picture of entire dissolution, that, like the insubstantial pageant which had just vanished from their eyes, not only towers, palaces, temples, and the globe itself, should disappear, but even not the most trifling part of the fabric of the world, not even the passing clouds, the _fleeting rack_, should be left behind, as a memorial of existence.

Upon no occasions were these imposing spectacles, the _masque_, the _pageant_, and the _triumph_, gotten up with more gorgeous splendour, than during the PROGRESSES which Elizabeth so frequently made throughout the course of her long reign. Every nobleman's house was thrown open for her reception whilst thus engaged, and the keenest rivalry was excited amongst them, with regard to the expense, magnificence, variety, and duration of the entertainments which they lavished upon her. Nor was the Queen at all scrupulous in accepting their invitations, for she considered this hospitality, however ruinous to the individual, as a necessary attention, and, in fact, entered the mansions of her courtiers with the same feelings of property, as when she sate down beneath the roof of what might more strictly be termed her own palaces. That her subjects were complaisant enough to acquiesce in this assumption, is evident from a passage in _Harrison's Description of England_, who mentioning the variety of the Queen's houses, adds,—"But what shall I need to take upon me to repeat all, and tell what houses the queen's majesty hath? Sith _all is hirs_; and when it pleaseth hir in the summer season to recreate hirself abroad, and view the state of the countrie, and hear the complaints of hir unjust officers or substitutes, _every nobleman's house is hir palace_, where she continueth during pleasure, and till she returne again to some of hir owne." One of the most striking proofs of the frequency and oppression of these royal visits, has been recorded by Mr. Nichols, who tells us, that "she was _twelve_ times at Theobald's, which was a very convenient distance from London. _Each visit_ cost Cecil _two or three thousand pounds_; the Queen lying there _at his Lordships charge_, sometimes _three weeks_, or _a month_, or _six weeks together_."[194:A]

These _Progresses_, however, of which Mr. Nichols has presented us with a most curious and ample collection, serve, more than any other documents which history could afford, to impress us with an accurate and interesting idea of the hospitality, diversions, costume, and domestic economy, of the great Baronial Chieftains of our last romantic reign. From them, observes their very ingenious editor, "much of the manners of the times may be learned. They give us a view into the interior of the noble families, display their state in house-keeping, and other articles, and set before our eyes their magnificent mansions long since gone to decay, or supplanted by others of the succeeding age."[194:B]

Perhaps the most splendid reception which Elizabeth met with, in the whole course of her Progresses, was at Kenelworth-castle, in Warwickshire, the seat of the once all-powerful Earl of Leicester. Some slight notice of this place, as having probably attracted the attention of young Shakspeare, during the visit of Her Majesty, has already been given in a former part of our work; but it will be necessary here, in order to impart a just conception of the costly entertainments which awaited the Queen on these excursions, to give a brief catalogue of the ten days "princely pleasures" of Kenelworth castle.

Her Majesty reached Lord Leicester's on Saturday, the ninth of July, 1575, and was greeted, on her approach to the castle, by a Sibyl, prophesying prosperity to her government. Six giants stood ready to receive her at the outer gate apparently blowing trumpets, which were in reality sounded by persons placed behind them, while the Porter, representing Hercules, addressed her in a metrical speech, "proclaiming open gates and free passage to all, and yielding to her on his knees, his club, keys, and office." Arriving at the base court, a female figure, appropriately dressed, "came all over the pool, being so conveyed, that it seemed she had gone upon the water; she was attended by two water-nymphs, and calling herself the Lady of the Lake," complimented Her Majesty, who, passing on to the inner court, crossed the bridge, which was ornamented with seven pillars on each side, exhibiting on their summits, birds in cages, fruits in silver bowls, corn in similar vessels, wine and grapes in silver pots, fishes in trays, weapons of war, and musical instruments, the respective gifts of Silvanus, Pomona, Ceres, Bacchus, Neptune, Mars, and Apollo. Then, preceded by a noble band of music, the Queen crossed the inner court, alighted from her horse, and entered her apartments.

On Sunday evening, she beheld _a grand display of fire-works_, a species of amusement which had been little known previous to her reign: "after a warning piece or two," says Laneham, "was a blaze of burning darts flying to and fro, beams of stars coruscant, streams and hail of fire-sparks, lightnings of wild fire on the water; and on the land, flight and shot of thunder-bolts, all with such continuance, terror, and vehemence, the heavens thundered, the waters surged, and the earth shook."

Monday was occupied by _hunting_, conducted on a large and magnificent scale, during which Her Majesty was ingeniously complimented through the medium of several _sylvan devices_.

_Music_, _dancing_, and _pageantry on the water_, formed the diversions of the _Tuesday_.

_Hunting_ and _field sports_ consumed the _Wednesday_; _bear-baiting_, _tumbling_, and _fire-works_, were the recreations of the _Thursday_; and, the weather not permitting any out-door diversions on _Friday_, the time was spent in _banquetting_, _shows_, and _domestic games_.

On _Saturday_, the morning being fine, the Queen was highly entertained by the representation of a _country bride-ale_, by _running at the quintain_, and by the "Old Coventry Play of Hock Thursday;" while the evening diversions were a _regular play_, a _banquet_, and a _masque_.

The amusement of hunting was resumed on the _Monday_, returning from which Her Majesty was highly gratified by a _pageant on the water_, exhibiting, among other spectacles, Arion seated upon a dolphin twenty-four feet in length, and singing a song, accompanied by the music of six performers, who were snugly lodged in the belly of the fish.

The _Coventry play_ not having been finished on the preceding Saturday, was repeated, at the desire of the Queen, on the _Tuesday_, and on _Wednesday_ the 20th, she bade adieu to Kenelworth, greatly delighted with the hospitality and princely splendour of its noble owner.[196:A]

The _Hall_ and the _Tiltyard_ were two of the most striking features at Kenelworth, and they designate with sufficient precision two of the leading characteristics of the age of Elizabeth, its _hospitality_, and _attachment to chivalric costume_; the former was carried on upon a scale to which modern usage is a perfect stranger; for, as Bishop Hurd remarks, "the same bell, that called the great man to his table, invited the neighbourhood all around, and proclaimed a holiday to the whole country[197:A];" and the latter cherished its predilections, and romantic ardour, by cultivating tilting, the sole remaining offspring of the gorgeous tournament, with scientific skill. The latter half of the sixteenth, and the commencement of the seventeenth, century, saw, indeed, the diversion of running at the ring carried to its highest degree of perfection, from which, however, it very soon afterwards began to decline, and may be said to have expired with the reign of James the First.

Yet the influence of this amusement, in exciting the heroism of the Elizabethan age, was by no means inconsiderable, and we may view the _tilt-yard_ of Kenelworth, with the eyes of Dr. Hurd, "as a nursery of brave men, a very seed-plot of warriors and heroes.—And, as whimsical a figure as a young _tilter_ may make in a modern eye, who will say that the virtue was not formed here, that triumphed at AXELL, and bled at ZUTPHEN."[197:B]

To complete the picture of Kenelworth-castle during this festive period, it would be desirable, could we ascertain what were the domestic economy and usages which were adopted in so large a household, and how the Queen, her ladies, and attendants, contrived to pass the hours, when the weather forbade exterior diversions, and when the masque, the banquet, and the fete, had exhausted their attractions. Fortunately we possess a sketch of this kind, from the communicative pen of Laneham, who seems to have been gifted, if we may trust his own account, with great powers of pleasing, and to have enjoyed, in an extraordinary degree, the favour and confidence of the high-born dames of honour who followed in the train of Elizabeth.

"Methought it my part," he relates in a letter to his friend, "somewhat to impart unto you how it is here with me, and how I lead my life, which indeed is this:—

"A mornings I rise ordinarily at seven o'clock: Then ready, I go into the Chapel; soon after eight, I get me commonly into my Lord's chamber, or into my Lord's presidents. There at the cupboard, after I have eaten the manchet served overnight for livery (for I dare be as bold, I promise you, as any of my friends the servants there: and indeed could I have fresh, if I would tarry; but I am of wont jolly and dry a mornings): I drink me up a good bol of ale: when in a sweet pot it is defecated by all night's standing, the drink is the better, take that of me: and a morsel in a morning, with a sound draught; is very wholesome and good for the eye-sight: Then I am as fresh all the forenoon after, as had I eaten a whole piece of beef. Now, Sir, if the Council sit, I am at hand; wait at an inch, I warrant you: If any man make babbling, 'Peace,' say I, 'wot ye where ye are?' If I take a listener, or a pryer in at the chinks or at the lock-hole, I am by and by in the bones of him: But now they keep good order, they know me well enough: If a be a friend, or such a one as I like, I make him sit down by me on a form or a chest; let the rest walk, a God's name.

"And here doth my language now and then stand me in good stead: My _French_, my _Spanish_, my _Dutch_, and my _Latin_: Sometime among Ambassador's men, if their Master be within the Council: Sometime with the Ambassador himself, if he bid call his lacky, or ask me what's a clock; and I warrant ye I answer him roundly; that they marvel to see such a fellow there: then laugh I and say nothing: Dinner and supper I have twenty places to go to, and heartily prayed to: Sometime get I to _Master Pinner_; by my faith, a worshipful Gentleman, and as careful for his charge as any her Highness hath: there find I alway good store of very good viands; we eat, and be merry, thank God and the _Queen_. Himself in feeding very temperate and moderate as ye shall see any: and yet, by your leave, of a dish, as a cold pigeon or so, that hath come to him at meat more than he looked for, I have seen him een so by and by surfeit, as he hath plucked off his napkin, wiped his knife, and eat not a morsel more; like enough to stick in his stomach a two days after: (some hard message from the higher officers; perceive ye me?) upon search, his faithful dealing and diligence hath found him faultless.

"In afternoons and a nights, sometime am I with the right worshipful _Sir George Howard_, as good a Gentleman as any lives: And sometime, at my good _Lady Sidneys_ chamber, a Noblewoman that I am as much bound unto, as any poor man may be unto so gracious a Laday; and sometime in some other place. But always among the Gentlewomen by my good will; (O, ye know thatt comes always of a gentle spirit:) And when I see company according, then can I be as lively too: Sometime I foot it with dancing: now with my gittern, and else with my cittern, then at the virginals: Ye know nothing comes amiss to me: Then carol I up a song withal; that by and by they come flocking about me like bees to honey: And ever they cry, 'Another, good Langham, another!' Shall I tell you? When I see _Mistress_ —— (A, see a mad Knave; I had almost told all!) that she gives once but an eye or an ear; why then, man, am I blest; my grace, my courage, my cunning is doubled: She says, sometime, 'She likes it;' and then I like it much the better; it doth me good to hear how well I can do. And to say truth; what with mine eyes, as I can amorously gloat it, with my _Spanish_ sospires, my _French_ heighes, mine _Italian_ dulcets, my _Dutch_ hoves, my double releas, my high reaches, my fine feigning, my deep diapason, my wanton warbles, my running, my timing, my tuning, and my twinkling, I can gracify the matters as well as the proudest of them, and was yet never stained, I thank God: By my troth, Countryman, it is some time high midnight, ere I can get from them. And thus have I told ye most of my trade, all the live-long day: what will ye more, God save the _Queene_ and my _Lord_."[199:A]

Of this magnificent castle, the unrivalled abode of baronial hospitality, and chivalric pageantry, who can avoid lamenting the present irreparable decay, or forbear apostrophising the mouldering reliques in the pathetic, and picturesque language, which Bishop Hurd has placed in the mouth of his admired Addison?

"Where, one might ask, are the tilts and tournaments, the princely shows and sports, which were once so proudly celebrated within these walls? Where are the pageants, the studied devices, and emblems of curious invention, that set the court at a gaze, and even transported the high soul of our Elizabeth? Where now, pursued he, (pointing to that which was formerly a canal, but at present is only a meadow, with a small rivulet running through it) where is the floating island, the blaze of torches that eclipsed the day, the lady of the lake, the silken nymphs her attendants, with all the other fantastic exhibitions surpassing even the whimsies of the wildest romance? What now is become of the revelry of feasting? of the minstrelsy that took the ear so delightfully as it babbled along the valley, or floated on the surface of this lake? See there the smokeless kitchens, stretching to a length that might give room for the sacrifice of a hecatomb; the vaulted hall, which mirth and jollity have set so often in an uproar; the rooms of state, and the presence-chamber: what are they now but void and tenantless ruins, clasped with ivy, open to wind and weather, and representing to the eye nothing but the ribs and carcase, as it were, of their former state? And see, said he, that proud gate-way, once the mansion of a surly porter, who, partaking of the pride of his lord, made the crowds wait, and refused admittance, perhaps, to nobles whom fear or interest drew to these walls, to pay their homage to their master: see it now the residence of a poor tenant, who turns the key but to let himself out to his daily labour, to admit him to a short meal, and secure his nightly slumbers."[200:A]

To this account of some of the principal diversions of the court and the metropolis, we have now to subjoin, in a compass corresponding with the scale of our work, a clear, but necessarily a brief view, of an amusement which, more than any other, is calculated to interest, and to influence every class of society. The _state_, _economy_, and _usages_ of THE STAGE, therefore, during the age of Shakspeare, will occupy the remainder of this chapter, forming an introduction to a sketch of dramatic poetry, at the period of Shakspeare's commencement as a writer for the stage.

The reader is probably aware, from the very copious and bulky, though somewhat indigested, collections, which have been published on this subject, that the following detail, consisting of an arrangement of minute facts, and which aims at nothing more than a neat and lucid compendium of an intricate topic, must necessarily, at almost every step, be indebted to previous researches; in order, therefore, to obviate a _continual_ parade of reference, let it suffice, that we acknowledge the basis of our disquisition to have been derived from the labours of Steevens and Malone, as included in the last variorum edition of Shakspeare; from the two Apologies of Mr. Chalmers; from Decker, as reprinted by Nott; and occasionally, from the pages of Warton, Percy, Whiter, and Gilchrist. Where references, however, are absolutely essential, they will be found in their due place.

It has been justly observed by Mr. Chalmers, that "what Augustus said of Rome, may be remarked of Elizabeth and the stage, that she found it _brick_, and left it _marble_."[201:A] At her accession in 1558, no regular theatre had been established, and the players of that period, even in the capital, were compelled to have recourse to the yards of great Inns, as the most commodious places which they could obtain for the representation of their pieces. These, being surrounded by open stages and galleries, and possessing, likewise, numerous private apartments and recesses from which the genteeler part of the audience might become spectators at their ease, while the central space held a temporary stage, uncovered in fine weather, and protected by an awning in bad, were not ill calculated for the purposes of scenic exhibition, and, most undoubtedly, gave rise to the form and construction, adopted in the erection of the licensed theatres.

In this stage of infancy was the public stage at the birth of Shakspeare; nor would it so rapidly have emerged into importance, had not the Queen, though occasionally yielding to the enmity and fanaticism of the puritans with regard to this recreation, been warmly attached to theatric amusements. So early as 1569, was she frequently entertained in her own chapel-royal, by the performance of plays on profane subjects, by the children belonging to that establishment; and the year following has been fixed upon as the most probable era of the erection of a regular play-house, very appropriately named _The Theatre_, and supposed to have been situated in the Blackfriars.

We shall not be surprised, therefore, to find, that in 1574 a regular _company of players_ was established by _royal licence_, granting to James Burbage, John Perkyn, John Lanham, William Johnson, and Robert Wilson, servants of the Earl of Leicester, authority, under the privy seal, "to use, exercyse and occupie the arte and facultye of playenge commedies, tragedies, enterludes, stage-playes, and such other like as they have alreadie used and studied, or hereafter shall use and studie, as well for the recreation of our lovinge subjects as for our solace and pleasure when we shall thinke good to see them—throughoute our realme of England."[202:A]

This may be considered then, with great probability, as the _first_ general licence obtained by any company of players in England; but, with the customary precaution of Elizabeth, it contains a clause, subjecting all dramatic amusements to the previous inspection of the _Master of the Revels_, an officer who, in the reign of Henry the Eighth, had been created to superintend a part of the duties which until then had fallen to the province of the Lord Chamberlain, and who now had the sphere of his control augmented by this prudent enactment, providing "that the saide commedies, tragedies, enterludes and stage-playes be by the Master of our Revels for the tyme beynge before sene and allowed."

The officers who exercised this authority, during the life of Shakspeare, were Sir Thomas Benger, Edmond Tilney, and Sir George Bucke. Sir Thomas Benger, who succeeded Sir Thomas Cawerden in 1560, lived not to see Shakspeare's entrance into the scenic world, but, dying in 1577, Tilney's appointment took place in 1579. This gentleman continued to regulate the stage for the long period of thirty-one years; he beheld the dawn and the mid-day splendour of Shakspeare's dramatic genius, and in his official capacity, he enjoyed the opportunity of licensing not less than _thirty_ of his dramas, commencing with _Henry the Sixth_, and terminating with _Antony and Cleopatra_. On his death, in 1610, Sir George Bucke, who had obtained a reversionary patent for the office in 1603, and had executed its duties for twelvemonth previous to Tilney's decease, became _Master of the Revels_, and had the felicity of reading, and the honour of licensing, some of the last and noblest productions of our immortal poet, namely, _Timon of Athens_, _Coriolanus_, _Othello_, the _Tempest_, and _Twelfth Night_. He also lived to deplore the premature extinction of this unrivalled bard, and he died in the year which presented to the public the first folio edition of his plays.

The erection of a theatre in 1570; the establishment by royal authority of a regular company in 1574; and the subjection of both to highly respectable officers, operated so strongly in favour of dramatic amusements, that we find Stubbes, the puritanic satirist, bitterly inveighing in 1583 against the great popular support of the theatres in his day, which he sarcastically terms _Venus' Palaces_, and immediately afterwards designates by a general application of the names which had been given at that time to the two principal structures: "marke," says he, "the flocking and running to _theaters_ and _curtens_, daylie and hourely, night and daye, tyme and tyde, to see playes and enterludes."[204:A]

This passion for the stage continued rapidly to increase, and before the year 1590 not less than four or five theatres were in existence. The patronage of dramatic representation made an equal progress at court; for though Elizabeth never, it is believed, attended a _public_ theatre, yet had she four companies of children who frequently performed for her amusement, denominated the _Children of St. Pauls_, the _Children of Westminster_, the _Children of the Chapel_, and the _Children of Windsor_. The public actors too, who were sometimes, in imitation of these appellations, called the _Children of the Revels_, were, towards the close of Her Majesty's reign especially, in consequence of a greatly acquired superiority over their younger brethren, often called upon to act before her at the royal theatre in Whitehall. Exhibitions of this kind at court were usual at Christmas, on Twelfth Night, at Candlemas, and at Shrove-tide, throughout the reigns of Elizabeth and James, and the plays of Shakspeare were occasionally the entertainment of the night: thus we find _Love's Labour's Lost_ to have been performed before our maiden Queen during the Christmas-holydays, and _King Lear_ to have been exhibited before King James on St. Stephen's night.[204:B]

On these occasions, the representation was generally at night, that it might not interfere with the performances at the regular theatres, which took place early in the afternoon; and we learn from the Council-books, that the royal remuneration, in the age of Elizabeth, for the exhibition of a single play at Whitehall, amounted to ten pounds, of which, twenty nobles, or six pounds thirteen shillings, and four-pence, formed the customary fee; and three pounds, six shillings, and eight-pence, the free gift or bounty. If, however, the performers were required to leave the capital for any of the royal palaces in its neighbourhood, the fee, in consequence of the public exhibition of the day being prevented, was augmented to twenty pounds.

The protection of the drama by Elizabeth and her ministers, though it did not exempt the public players, except in one instance, from the penalties of statutes against vagabonds, yet it induced, during the whole of her long reign, numerous instances of private patronage from the most opulent of her nobility and gentry, who, possessing the power of licensing their own domestics as comedians, and, consequently of protecting them from the operation of the act of vagrancy, sheltered various companies of performers, under the denomination of their servants, or retainers,—a privilege which was taken away, by act of parliament, on the accession of James, and, as Mr. Chalmers observes, "put an end for ever to the scenic system of prior times."[205:A]

To this private patronage of the latter half of the sixteenth century, we must ascribe not less than fourteen distinct companies of players, that, in succession, contributed to exhilarate the golden days of England's matchless Queen, and, in their turn, enjoyed the honour of contributing to her amusement. Of these, the following is a chronological enumeration:—Soon after the accession of Elizabeth, appeared Lord Leicester's company, the same which, in 1574, was finally incorporated by royal licence; in 1572, was formed Sir Robert Lane's company; in the same year Lord Clinton's; in 1575, companies were created by Lord Warwick, and the Lord Chamberlain, the name of Shakspeare being enrolled among the servants of the latter, who, in the first year of the subsequent reign, became entitled to the appellation of His Majesty's servants; in 1576, the Earl of Sussex brought forward a theatrical body, and in 1577, Lord Howard another, neither of which, however, attained much eminence; in 1578, the Earl of Essex mustered a company of players, and in 1579, Lord Strange, and the Earl of Derby, followed his example; in 1591, the Lord Admiral produced his set of comedians; in 1592, the Earl of Hertford effected a similar arrangement; in 1593, Lord Pembroke protected an association of actors, and, at the close of Her Majesty's reign, the Earl of Worcester had in pay, also, a company of theatrical performers.

In the mean time theatres, both public and private, were greatly on the increase, and, during the period that Shakspeare immortalised the stage, not less than _seven_ of these structures, of established notoriety, were in existence. _Four_ of them were considered as public theatres, namely, _The Globe_ on the Bankside, _The Curtain_ in Shoreditch, _The Red Bull_ in St. John's Street, and _The Fortune_ in Whitecross Street; and _three_ were termed private houses, one, for instance, in _Blackfriars_, another in _Whitefriars_, and _The Cockpit_ or Phœnix, in Drury-Lane. As _The Globe_, however, and the theatre in _Blackfriars_ were the property of the same set of players, only six companies of comedians were formed, or wanted, for the purposes of representation.

Beside these principal play-houses, several others, possessing a more ephemeral existence, as _The Swan_, _The Rose_, &c., sprung up and fell in succession, forming altogether such a number, as justly gave alarm and offence to the stricter clergy, and at length attracted the attention of the privy-council, who, on the 22d of June, 1600, issued an order for the reduction of the number of play-houses, limiting these buildings to two, selecting that called _The Fortune_ for Middlesex, and fixing on _The Globe_ for Surrey. To such a degree, however, had now arisen the attachment of the people to dramatic recreations, that notwithstanding these orders were re-issued, with still stronger injunctions, the following year, they could never be carried into any effectual execution.

Much as Elizabeth favoured the stage, it appears to have been patronised by her successor with equal, if not superior, zeal. James may be said, indeed, to have given a dignity and consequence to the profession, to which it had hitherto been a stranger, and to have introduced into the theatric world, a new, and better constituted arrangement of its parts. No sooner had he ascended the throne, than three companies were formed under his auspices; the Lord Chamberlain's servants he adopted as his own; the Queen chose the Earl of Worcester's, and Prince Henry fixed upon the Earl of Nottingham's; and on the 19th of May, only twelve days after his arrival in London, he granted to his own company, being that performing at _The Globe_, the following _licence_, which was first published in Rymer's _Fœdera_, in 1705:—

"PRO LAURENTIO FLETCHER ET WILLIELMO SHAKESPEARE ET ALIIS.

"A.D. 1603. Pat.

"1. Jac. P. 2. m. 4. James by the grace of God, &c. to all justices, maiors, sheriffs, constables, headboroughs, and other our officers and loving subjects, greeting. Know you that wee, of our special grace, certaine knowledge, and meer motion, have licensed and authorised, and by these presentes doe licence and authorize theise our servaunts, Laurence Fletcher, WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, Richard Burbage, Augustine Phillippes, John Hemings, Henrie Condel, William Sly, Robert Armin, Richard Cowly, and the rest of their associates, freely to use and exercise the art and faculty of playing _comedies_, _tragedies_, _histories_, _interludes_, _morals_, _pastorals_, _stage-plaies_, and such like other as thei have alreadie studied or hereafter shall use or studie, as well for the recreation of our loving subjects, as for our solace and pleasure when we shall thincke good to see them, during our pleasure: and the said comedies, tragedies, histories, enterludes, morals, pastorals, stage-plaies, and such like, to shew and exercise publiquely to their best commoditie, when the infection of the plague shall decrease, as well within theire nowe usuall house called the _Globe_, within our county of Surrey, as also within anie towne-halls or moute-halls, or other convenient places within the liberties and freedom of any other citie, universitie, toun, or boroughe whatsoever, within our said realmes and dominions. Willing and commanding you and everie of you, as you tender our pleasure, not onelie to permit and suffer them herein, without any your letts, hindrances, or molestations, during our pleasure, but also to be aiding or assistinge to them if any wrong be to them offered, and to allow them such former curtesies as hathe been given to men of their place and quallitie; and also what further favour you shall shew to theise our servaunts for our sake, we shall take kindlie at your handes. In witness whereof, &c.

"Witness our selfe at Westminster, the nynteenth daye of Maye,

"Per Breve de private sigillo."[208:A]

To _The Globe_ mentioned in this licence, and to the play-house in _Blackfriars_, as being the theatres exclusively belonging to _Shakspeare's_ company, and where all his dramas were performed, we shall now confine our attention, the customs and usages of these, the one being a public, and the other a private theatre, pretty accurately applying to the rest.

The exact era of the building of _The Globe_ has not been ascertained. Mr. Malone, from the documents which he consulted, conceives it to have been erected not long anterior to the year 1596; and Mr. Chalmers, resting on the evidence of Norden's map of London, concludes it to have been built before the year 1593.[208:B] Its scite appears to have been on the southern side of the Thames, called the _Bankside_, and its form, which was of considerable size, to have been externally hexagonal, and internally circular. It was constructed of wood, and only partly thatched, its centre being open to the weather. It was probably named The Globe, not from the circularity of its interior, but from its sign exhibiting Hercules supporting the globe, under which was inscribed, _Totus mundus agit histrionem_.

Being a _public_ theatre, _The Globe_ was likewise distinguished by a pole erected on its roof, to which, during the hours of exhibition, a flag was attached; for, by reason of its central exposure, it necessarily became a summer theatre, its performers, the King's company, usually commencing their season here during the month of May. The exhibitions at the Globe were frequent, and it is said, chiefly calculated for the lower class of people, the upper ranks, and the critics, generally preferring the private theatres, which were smaller, and more conveniently fitted up. The advantages of elegance and decoration, however, were no longer wanting to The Globe, in 1614; for the old structure, consisting of wood and thatch, being burnt down on the 29th of June, 1613, the subsequent year saw it rise from its ashes with considerable splendour.[209:A]

The _Theatre in Blackfriars_ may be classed among the earliest buildings of the kind, being certainly in existence before 1580. It was erected near the present site of Apothecaries' Hall, and being without the liberties of the city of London, had the good fortune to escape the levelling fury of the fanatics, who, shortly after the above period, obtained leave to destroy all the play-houses within the jurisdiction of the city.

It does not appear that Shakspeare's company, or the King's servants, had any interest in this theatre before the winter of 1604, at which period, or in the following spring, they became its purchasers; the children of the Revels, or, as they were sometimes called, the children of Blackfriars, being the usual performers at this house, prior to that event.

The distinctions subsisting between _Blackfriars_ and _The Globe_, seem to have been nothing more, than that the former being a _private_, and a _winter_, house, was smaller, more compactly put together, and, as the representations were by candle-light, better calculated for the purposes of warmth and protection. As the internal structure, however, with the exception of the open centre, was similar to that of The Globe, and as the economy and usages were, there is every reason to believe, the same, not only in both these houses, but in every other contemporary theatre, the subsequent notices may be considered as applying, where not otherwise expressed, to the general state of the Elizabethan stage, though immediately derived from the costume of The Globe.

The interior architectural arrangements of this ancient theatre have been, in their leading features, preserved to the present day. The _galleries_, or _scaffolds_, as they were sometimes called, were constructed over each other, occupying three sides of the house, and assuming, according to the plan of the building, a square or semicircular form. Beneath these were small apartments, called _rooms_, intended for the genteeler part of the audience, and answering, in almost every respect, to our modern boxes. In The Globe, these were open to all who chose to pay for them, but at Blackfriars and other private theatres, there is some reason to conclude, that they were occasionally the property of individuals, who secured their claim through the medium of a key.[210:A]

It has been remarked, that the centre of The Globe, or summer theatre, was open to the weather, and, from the first temporary play-houses having been built in the area of inns or common osteries, this was usually called _The Yard_. It had neither floor nor benches, and the common people standing here to see the performance, were, therefore, termed by Shakspeare _groundlings_; an epithet repeated by Decker, who speaks of "the groundling and gallery commoner, buying his sport by the penny."[211:A] The similar space at Blackfriars was named the _Pit_, but seems to have differed in no other respect than in being protected by a roof. It was separated from the stage merely by a railing of pales, for there was no intervening orchestra, the music, consisting chiefly of trumpets, cornets, hautboys, lutes, recorders, viols, and organs, being executed by a band of eight or ten performers, who were stationed in an elevated balcony nearly occupying that part of the house which is now denominated the upper stage-box.

The stage itself appears to have been divided into two parts, namely the _lower_ and the _upper_ stage; the former with nearly the same relative elevation with regard to the pit as in the theatres of our own times; the latter, resembling a balcony in shape, was placed towards the rear of the former, having its platform not less than eight or nine feet from the ground. This was a contrivance attended with much conveniency; here was represented the play before the King in Hamlet; here, in several of the old plays, part of the dialogue was carried on, and here, having curtains which drew in front, were occasionally concealed, from the view of the audience, persons whose seclusion might be necessary to the business of the plot.

Curtains also of woollen, or silk, were hung in the front of the greater or lower stage, not suspended, in the modern style, by lines and pullies, but opening in the middle, and sliding on an iron rod.

Beside the accommodation of boxes, pit, and galleries, in the usual parts of the house, two boxes, one on each side, were attached to the balcony or upper stage, and were termed _private_ boxes; but, being inconveniently situated, and, as Decker remarks, "almost smothered in darkness," were seldom frequented, except from motives of eccentricity, by characters higher than waiting-women and gentlemen-ushers.[211:B] Seats, also, at the _private_ theatres, were allowed to be placed on the stage, and were generally occupied by the wits, gallants, and critics of the day: thus Decker observes,—"by sitting on the stage, you have a signed patent to engross the whole commodity of _censure_; may lawfully presume to be a girder, and _stand at the helm to steer the passage of scenes_."[212:A]

The passage in _italics_ which closes this quotation, would seem to be decisive of the long agitated question relative to the use of _scenery_; Mr. Malone asserting,—"that the stage of Shakspeare was not furnished with _moveable painted scenes_, but merely decorated with curtains, and arras or tapestry hangings, which, when decayed, appear to have been sometimes ornamented with pictures[212:B];" and Mr. Steevens contending, that where so much _machinery_ as the plays of Shakspeare require, is allowed to have been employed, the less complicated adjunct of scenes could scarcely be wanting; for that where "the column is found standing, no one will suppose but that it was once accompanied by its usual entablature.—In short," he adds, "without characteristic discriminations of place, the historical dramas of Shakspeare in particular would have been wrapped in tenfold confusion and obscurity; nor could the spectator have felt the poet's power, or accompanied his rapid transitions from one situation to another, without such guides as _painted canvas_ only could supply.—But for these, or such assistances, the spectator, like Hamlet's mother, must have bent his gaze on mortifying vacancy; and with the guest invited by the Barmecide, in the Arabian tale, must have furnished from his own imagination the entertainment of which his eyes were solicited to partake."[212:C]

If the machinery accompanying trap-doors, tombs, and cauldrons, the appearance of ghosts, phantoms, and monsters, the descent of gods, the magic evanishment of articles of furniture and provision, and the confliction of the elements, were not strangers to the Shakspearean theatre, it surely would have been an easy matter to have transferred the _frame-work and painted canvas_ which, according to Holinshed, and even preceding chroniclers, decorated the pageants and tournaments of those days, to the business of the stage. Nor can we, indeed, conceive, as Mr. Steevens has remarked, how the minute inventory of Imogen's bedchamber, and the accurate description of the exterior of Inverness Castle, could have been rendered intelligible or endurable without such assistance.

It is highly, probable, therefore, from these considerations, and from the passage in Decker, that, notwithstanding the mass of negative evidence collected by Mr. Malone, _moveable painted scenes_ were occasionally introduced on the stage during the age of Shakspeare; and it may be further reasonably concluded, that, from the phrase of _STEERING the PASSAGE of scenes_, the mechanism was formed and conducted on a plan approximating that which is now familiar to a modern audience.

The conjecture of Mr. Steevens, however, that _private_ theatres had no scenes, while the _public_ had, owing to the former admitting part of the audience on the stage, who might interfere with the convenient shifting of such an apparatus, is annihilated by the quotation from Decker, who expressly says, that "_by SITTING ON THE STAGE_, you have _a signed patent to stand at the helm to steer the passage of the scenes_," by which it would appear, that those who obtained seats on the private stage, occasionally amused themselves by assisting the regular mechanists in the adjustment of the scenery.

We learn, also, from Heywood[213:A], that the internal roof of the stage was either painted of a sky-blue colour, or hung with drapery of a similar tint, in order to represent the HEAVENS; and there is much reason to suppose, with a very ingenious commentator, that when the idea of a gloomy and starless night was to be impressed, these _heavens_ were hung with black, whence, among many passages in Shakspeare illustrative of this position, the following line manifestly owes its origin:—

"_Hung_ be the _Heavens_ with _black_, yield day to night."[214:A]

It has, likewise, been asserted, and, indeed, to a certain extent, proved, by the same learned writer, that the lower part of the stage was distinguished by the name of HELL; and he quotes the annexed passage from Chapman as decisive on the subject:—

"The fortune of a _Stage_ (like fortune's self) Amazeth greatest judgments: and none knows The hidden causes of those strange effects, That rise from _this HELL_, or fall from _this HEAVEN_."[214:B]

From this connection of the celestial and infernal regions with the stage, Mr. Whiter has inferred, through the medium of numerous pertinent quotations from Shakspeare and his contemporaries, that a vast mass of imagery was so blended and associated in the mind of our great poet, as to form an intimate union in his ideas between HELL and NIGHT; the DARKENED HEAVENS and the STAGE of TRAGEDY[214:C]; and this, too, at an early period, even during the composition of his Rape of Lucrece, which contains some striking instances of this theatrical combination.

To these notices on the interior structure of the Shakspearean theatre, we shall now add the most material circumstances relative to its economy and usages.

The mode of announcing its exhibitions, if we except the medium of newspapers, a resource of subsequent times, seems to have been not less effectual and extensive than that of the present day. _Play-bills_ were printed, expressing the title of the piece or pieces to be performed, but containing neither the names of the characters, nor of the actors; these were industriously circulated through the town, and affixed to posts and public buildings, a custom which forms the subject of a repartee recorded by Taylor the water-poet, who began to write towards the close of Shakspeare's life:—"Master Field, the player," he relates, "riding up Fleet-street a great pace, a gentleman called him, and asked him, what play was played that day. He being angry to be staied on so frivolous a demand, answered, that he might see what play was plaied _upon every poste_. I cry you mercy, said the gentleman, I tooke you for a _poste_, you rode so fast."[215:A]

In the early part of the reign of Elizabeth, the _Days of Acting_, at the public theatres, were chiefly confined to Sundays, Her Majesty's licence to Burbage in 1574, granting such exhibition on that day, _out of the hours of prayer_; and this was the day which the Queen herself usually selected for dramatic representation at court. The rapidly increasing taste, however, for theatric amusement soon induced the players to go beyond the limits of permission, and we find Gosson, in 1579, exclaiming, that the players, "because they are allowed to play _every Sunday_, make _four_ or _five Sundays_, at least, every week."[215:B] A reformation more consonant to morality and decorum took place in the subsequent reign; for, though plays were still performed on Sundays, at the court of James the First, yet they were no longer tolerated on that day at the public theatres, permission being now given, on application to the Master of the Revels, for their performance every day, save on the Sabbath, during the winter, and with no further exception than the Wednesdays and Fridays of Lent, which were at that time called sermon-days.

The _Hours of Acting_, during the whole period of Shakspeare's career, continued to be early in the afternoon. In 1598, we are informed by an epigram of Sir John Davies, that _one o'clock_ was the usual time for the commencement of the play:—

"Fuscus doth rise at ten, and at eleven He goes to Gyls, where he doth eat till _one_, Then sees _a play_."

and, in 1609, when Decker published his Gull's Horn-book, the hour was thrown back to three, nor did it become later until towards the close of the seventeenth century. The time visually consumed in the exhibition appears, from the prologue to _Henry the Eighth_, to have been only two hours:—

——————————— "Those that come— I'll undertake, may see away their _shilling_ Richly in _two short hours_."[216:A]

The mention of payment in this passage, leads to the consideration of the _Prices of Admission_, and the sum here specified, contemporary authority informs us, was demanded for entrance into the best rooms or boxes.[216:B] Sixpence also, and sometimes a shilling, was paid for seats or stools on the stage. Sixpence was likewise the price of admission to the pit and galleries of the Globe and Blackfriars; but at inferior houses, a penny, or at most two-pence, gave access to the "groundling," or the "gallery-commoner." Dramatic poets, as in the present day, were admitted gratis. We may also add, that, from some verses addressed to the memory of Ben Jonson, by Jasper Mayne, and alluding to his Volpone or the Fox, acted in 1605, it is allowable to infer, that the prices of admission were, on the first representation of a new play, doubled, and even sometimes trebled.[217:A]

There is every reason to suppose, that while Shakspeare wrote for the stage, the _Number of Plays performed in One Day_, seldom, if ever, exceeded _one_ tragedy, comedy, or history, and that the entertainment was varied and protracted, either by the extempore humour and tricks of the _Clown_ after the play was over, or by singing, dancing, or ludicrous recitation, between the acts.

The house appears to have been pretty well supplied with _Lights_; the stage being illuminated by two large branches; the body of the house by cresset lights, formed of ropes wreathed and pitched, and placed in open iron lanterns, and these were occasionally assisted by the interspersion of wax tapers among the boxes.

The _Amusements of the Audience before the Play commenced_ seem to have been amply supplied by themselves, the only recreation provided by the theatre, during this tedious interval, being the _music_ of the band, which struck up thrice, playing three flourishes, or, as they were then called, _three soundings_, before the performance began; but these were of course short, being principally intended as announcements, similar to those which we now receive from the prompter's bell. To kill time, therefore, reading and playing cards were the resources of the genteeler part of the audience: "Before the play begins," says Decker to his gallant, "fall to cards; you may win or lose, as fencers do in a prize, and beat one another by confederacy, yet share the money when you meet at supper: notwithstanding, to gull the ragamuffins that stand aloof gaping at you, throw the cards, having first torn four or five of them, round about the stage, just upon the _third sound_, as though you had lost."[217:B]

Of the less refined amusements of these _gaping ragamuffins_, "the youths that thunder at a play-house, and fight for bitter apples[218:A]," we find numerous traces in Decker, Jonson, and their contemporaries, which enable us to assert, that they chiefly consisted in _smoking tobacco_, _drinking ale_, _cracking nuts_, and _eating fruit_, which were regularly supplied by men attending in the theatre, and whose vociferation and clamour, or, as a writer of that time expresses it, "to be made _adder-deaf_ with _pippin-cry_[218:B]," were justly considered as grievous nuisances; more especially the use of tobacco, which must have been intolerable to those unaccustomed to its odour, and, indeed, occasionally drew forth the execration of individuals: thus in a work entitled, "_Dyets Dry Dinner_," we find the author commencing an epigram on the wanton and excessive use of tobacco, in the following terms:—

"It chaunc'd me gazing at the _Theater_, To spie a Dock-Tabacco-Chevalier, _Clouding the loathing ayr with foggie fume Of Dock-Tabacco;— — — — I wisht the Roman lawes severity: Who smoke selleth, with smoke be done to dy_."[218:C]

The most rational of the amusements which occupied the impatient audience, was certainly that of _reading_, and this appears to have been supplied by a custom of hawking about new publications at the theatre; at least this may be inferred from the opening of an address to the public, prefixed by William Fennor, to a production of his, entitled "Descriptions," and published in 1616. "To the Gentlemen readers, worthy gentlemen, of what degree soever, I suppose this pamphlet will hap into your hands, _before a play begin, with the importunate clamour of BUY A NEW BOOKE, by some needy companion, that will be glad to furnish you with worke for a turn'd teaster_."[219:A]

As soon as the third sounding had finished, it was usual for the person whose province it was to speak the _Prologue_, immediately to enter. As a diffident and supplicatory manner were thought essential to this character, who is termed by Decker, "the _quaking_ Prologue," it was the custom to clothe him in a _long black velvet cloak_, to which Shirley adds, a _little beard_, a _starch'd face_, and a _supple leg_.[219:B]

On withdrawing the curtain, the stage was generally found strewed with _rushes_, which, in Shakspeare's time, as hath been remarked in our first volume, formed the common covering of floors, from the palace to the cottage[219:C]; but, on very splendid occasions, it was _matted_ entirely over; thus, Sir Henry Wotton, in a letter which describes the conflagration of the Globe Theatre, in 1613, says, that on the night of the accident, "the King's Players had a new play, called _All is true_, representing some principal pieces of the reign of Henry the Eighth, which was set forth with many extraordinary circumstances of pomp and majesty, _even to the matting of the stage_."[219:D]

The performance of _tragedy_ appears to have been attended with some peculiar preparations; one of which was _hanging the stage with black_, a practice which dwelt on Shakspeare's recollection when, in writing his Rape of Lucrece, he speaks of

"_Black stage_ for _tragedies_, and murthers fell;"[220:A]

and is put out of dispute by a passage in the Induction to an anonymous tragedy, entitled, _A Warning for fair Women_, 1599, where _History_, addressing _Comedy_, says:—

"Look, _Comedie_, I mark'd it not till now, _The stage is hung with blacke_, and I perceive The auditors prepar'd for _tragedie_:"

to which _Comedy_ replies:—

"Nay then, I see she shall be entertain'd; These _ornaments_ beseem not thee and me."[220:B]

If the decorations of the stage itself could boast but little splendour, the _wardrobe_, even of The Globe and Blackfriars, could not be supposed either richly or amply furnished; in fact, even Jonson, in 1625, nine years after Shakspeare's death, betrays the poverty of the _stage-dresses_, when he exclaims in the _Induction_ to his _Staple of News_, "O curiosity, you come to see who wears the new suit to-day; whose clothes are best pen'd, &c.—what king plays _without cuffs_, and his queen _without gloves_: who rides post in _stockings_, and dances in _boots_."[220:C] It is evident, therefore, that the dramas of our great poet could derive little attraction from magnificence of attire, though it appears, from a passage in Jonson, that not only was there a prompter, or _book-holder_, but likewise a property, or _tire-man_, belonging to each theatre, in 1601.[221:A] _Periwigs_, which came into fashion about 1596, were often worn on the stage by male characters, whence Hamlet is represented calling a ranting player, "a robustious _periwig_-pated fellow[221:B];" _masks_ or _vizards_ were also sometimes used by those who personated female characters; thus Quince tells Flute, in the Midsummer Night's Dream, on his objecting to perform a woman's part, that he "shall play it in a _mask_."[221:C]

_Female characters_ indeed, were on the old English stage, as they had been on the Grecian and Roman, _always personated by men or boys_, a practice which continued with us until near the period of the Restoration. Italy and France long preceded us in the introduction of women on the theatric boards; for Coryate writing from Venice in 1608, and describing one of the theatres of that city, says, "the house is very beggarly and base, in comparison of our stately play-houses in England;" and he then adds, what must give us a wretched idea of the state of the stage at that time in Italy, "neither can their actors compare with us for apparell, shewes, and musicke. Here," he continues, "I observed certaine things that I never saw before; for _I saw women act, a thing that I never saw before_."[221:D]

The mode of expressing dislike of, or censuring a play, was as decided in the days of Shakspeare as in the present age, and sometimes effected by the same means. Decker gives us two methods of expressing disapprobation; one, by leaving the house with as many in your train as you can collect, the other, by staying, in order to interrupt the performance: "you shall disgrace him (the poet) worse," he observes, "than by tossing him in a blanket, or giving him the bastinado in a tavern, if, in the middle of his play, be it pastoral or comedy, moral or tragedy, you rise with a screwed and discontented face from your stool to be gone;"—and "salute all your gentle acquaintance, that are spread either on the rushes, or on stools about you; and draw what troop you can from the stage after you:" but, "if either the company, or indisposition of the weather bind you to sit it out;—_mew_ at passionate speeches; _blare_ at merry; find fault with the musick; _whew_ at the children's action; _whistle_ at the songs[222:A];" modes of annoyance sufficiently provoking, and occasionally very effectual toward the final condemnation of a play, as Ben Jonson experienced in more instances than one.[222:B]

It was usual also for the critics and coxcombs of the day, either from motives of curiosity, vanity, or malevolence, to carry to the theatre _table-books_, made of small plates of slate bound together in duodecimo, and to take down passages from the play, for the purpose either of retailing them in taverns and parties, or with the view of ridiculing and degrading the author; "to such, wherever they sit concealed," says the indignant Jonson in 1601, "let them know, the author defies them and their _writing-tables_."[222:C]

An _Epilogue_, sometimes spoken by one of the _Dramatis Personæ_, and sometimes by an extra character, was not uncommon at this period; and, when employed, generally terminated, if in a public theatre, with _a prayer_ for the king or queen; if, in a private one, for the lord of the mansion. The prayer, however, was, almost always, a necessary form, whether an epilogue were adopted or not; and, on these occasions, whatever may have been the nature of the preceding drama, the players, kneeling down, solemnly addressed themselves to their devotions: thus Shakspeare concludes his Epilogue to the Second Part of _King Henry the Fourth_, by telling his audience, "I will bid you good night: and so _kneel down_ before you;—but, indeed, _to pray for the queen_[223:A];" and Sir John Harrington closes his _Metamorphosis of Ajax_, 1596, with the following sarcastic mention of this custom as retained in _private_ theatres:—"But I will neither end with sermon nor prayer, lest some wags liken me to my L. (——) players, who when they have ended a baudie comedy, as though that were a preparative to devotion, kneele down solemnly, and pray all the companie to pray with them for their good lord and maister." Considering the place chosen for its display, this is, certainly, a custom

"More honour'd in the breach, than the observance."

With regard to the _Remuneration of Actors_, during the age of Shakspeare, it has been ascertained, that, after deducting forty-five shillings, which were the usual nightly, or rather daily, expenses at the Globe and Blackfriars, the _net_ receipt never amounted to more than twenty pounds, and that the _average_ receipt, after making a similar deduction, may be estimated at about _nine pounds_. This sum Mr. Malone supposes to have been in our poet's time "divided into forty shares, of which fifteen were appropriated to the house keepers or proprietors, three to the purchase of copies of new plays, stage-habits, &c. and twenty-two to the actors." He further calculates, that, as the acting season lasted forty weeks, and each company consisted of about twenty persons, six of whom probably were principal, and the others subordinate performers, if we suppose _two shares_ to have been the reward of a principal actor; _one share_ that of a second class composed of six, and _half a share_ the portion of the remaining eight, the performer who had _two shares_, would, on the calculation of nine pounds _clear_ per night, receive nine shillings as his nightly dividend, and, at the rate of five plays a week, his weekly profit would amount to two pounds five shillings. "On all these _data_," adds Mr. Malone, "I think it may be safely concluded, that the performers of the first class did not derive from their profession more than ninety pounds a year at the utmost. Shakspeare, Heminge, Condell, Burbadge, Lowin, and Taylor had without doubt other shares as proprietors or leaseholders; but what the different proportions were which each of them possessed in that right, it is now impossible to ascertain."[224:A] If we consider, however, the value of money during the reign of Elizabeth, and the relative prices of the necessary articles of life, it will be found that these salaries were not inadequate to the purposes of comfortable subsistence.

The profits accruing to the original source of the entertainment, or, in other words, the _Remuneration given to the Dramatic Poet_, was certainly, if we compare the claims of genius between the two parties, on a scale inferior to that which fell to the lot of the actor.

The author had the choice of two modes in the disposal of his property; he either sold the copy-right of his play to the theatre, or retained it in his own hands. In the former instance, which was frequently had recourse to in the age of Shakspeare, the only emolument was that derived from the purchase made by the proprietors of the theatre, who took care to secure the performance of the piece exclusively to their own company, and whose interest it was to defer its publication as long as possible; in the latter instance, not only had the poet the right of publication and the benefit of sale in his own option, but he had, likewise, a claim upon the theatre for a benefit. This, towards the termination of the sixteenth century, took place on the _second_ day[224:B], but was soon afterwards, as early indeed as 1612, postponed to the _third_ day.[225:A]

From a publication of Robert Greene's, dated 1592, it appears, that the price of a drama, when disposed of to the _public players_, was twenty nobles, or six pounds thirteen shillings and four pence; but that _private companies_ would sometimes give double that[225:B] sum. It has been recorded, indeed, by Oldys, in one of his manuscripts, but upon what authority is not mentioned, that Shakspeare received but _five pounds_ for his _Hamlet_![225:C]

What a _bookseller_ gave for the _copyright_ of a play at this period is unknown; but we have sufficient foundation, that of the bookseller's Preface to the quarto edition of our poet's _Troilus and Cressida_ in 1609, for asserting, that _sixpence_ was the sale price of a play when published.[225:D] It may also be affirmed, on grounds of equal security, that _forty shillings_ formed the customary compliment for the flattery of a dedication.[225:E]

To these notices concerning the pecuniary rewards of poets and performers, may be added the conjecture of Mr. Malone, that Shakspeare, "as author, actor, and proprietor, probably received from the theatre about two hundred pounds a year."[225:F]

From this description of the architecture, economy, and usages of the Shakspearean Stage, it must be evident, how trifling were the obligations of our great poet to the adventitious aid of scenery, machinery, and decoration, notwithstanding we have admitted these to be somewhat more elaborate than is usually allowed. The Art of Acting, however, had, during the same period, made very rapid strides towards perfection, and dramatic action and expression, therefore, coadjutors of infinitely more importance than the most splendid scenical apparatus, exhibited, we have reason to believe, powers in a great degree competent to the task of doing justice to the imperishable productions of this unrivalled bard of pity and of terror.

FOOTNOTES:

[168:A] Burton's Anatomy of Melancholy, fol., 8th edit., p. 171. col. i.

[168:B] "The Pleasant and Stately Morall of the Three Lordes and Three Ladies of London," &c., London. Printed by Jhones, at the Rose and Crowne, neere Holburne Bridge, 1590. Vide Strutt's Sports and Pastimes, Introduct., p. xxviii.; and Beloe's Anecdotes of Literature, vol. i. p. 350, 351.

[168:C] Anatomy of Melancholy, p. 172. col. i.

[169:A] "Schoole of Abuse," "Anatomie of Abuses," and "Treatise against Diceing, Card-playing," &c.

[169:B] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. v. p. 170. Act v. sc. 1.

[169:C] Ibid. vol. v. p. 186, 187. Act iv. sc. 5.

[170:A] Strutt's Sports and Pastimes, 4to. 1810, p. 291, 292.

[170:B] Ancient British Drama, vol. i. p. 111. col. 1.

[170:C] Belman of London, sig. F 2.

[170:D] Midsummer Night's Dream, act iii. sc. 1. Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iv. p. 401. Romeo and Juliet, act iv. sc. 5. Reed's Shakspeare vol. xx. p. 221.

[170:E] Ancient British Drama, vol. ii. p. 551. col. 1.

[170:F] In the Compleat Gamester, 2nd edit. 1676, p. 90., may be found the mode of playing this game.

[170:G] The first of these games is mentioned in _Eastward Hoe_, printed in 1605, and written by Ben Jonson, George Chapman, and John Marston; the second in the _Dumb Knight_, the production of Lewis Machin, 1608; the third in _A Woman killed with Kindness_, written by Thomas Heywood, 1617, where are also noticed _Lodam_, _Noddy_, _Post and Pair_, a species of Brag, _Knave out of Doors_, and _Ruff_, this last being something like Whist, and played in four different ways, under the names of _English Ruff_, _French Ruff_, _Double Ruff_, and _Wide Ruff_.—Vide Ancient British Drama, vol. ii. p. 444, 445.

[171:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. v. p. 335. note.

[171:B] Works of Ben Jonson; act v. sc. 4.

[171:C] Anatomy of Melancholy, p. 172. col. 2.

[171:D] Sports and Pastimes, 4to. p. 277.

[171:E] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. vii. p. 183. Act v. sc. 2.

[171:F] Illustrations of Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 243.

[171:G] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. ix. pp. 227, 228. Winter's Tale, act i. sc. 2.

[171:H] Ibid. vol. xviii. p. 240. Hamlet, act iii. sc. 4.

[172:A] Strutt's Sports and Pastimes, p. 272.

[173:A] Illustrations of Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 217.

[173:B] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. vii. p. 52. Act iii. sc. 1.

[173:C] Part II. p. 129

[173:D] Illustrations of Shakspeare, vol. i. pp. 219, 220.

[174:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. v. p. 406.

[174:B] Ibid. vol. v. p. 407. note.

[175:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. vi. pp. 38, 39.

[175:B] Ibid. vol. viii. p. 260, 261.

[175:C] Ibid. vol. vii. p. 52.

[175:D] Illustrations of Shakspeare, vol. i. p. 221.

[176:A] Chalmers's Apology, p. 380.

[176:B] Warton's Life of Sir Tho. Pope, sect. iii. p. 85.

[177:A] Nichols's Progresses of Queen Elizabeth, vol. i. p. 249.

[177:B] Hentzner's Travels, pp. 29, 30.

[177:C] P. 147.

[178:A] Lambarde's Perambulation of Kent, 1570, p. 248.

[178:B] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. v. pp. 33, 34. M. W. of Windsor, act i. sc. 1.

[179:A] "The Auncient Order, Societie, and Vnitie Laudable, of Prince Arthure, and his knightly Armoury of the Round Table. With a Threefold Assertion frendly in favour and furtherance of English Archery at this day. Translated and Collected by R. R." (Richard Robinson) 4to. 1583.—Vide British Bibliographer, vol. i. p. 125. 127.

[179:B] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xii. p. 144.

[180:A] Strutt's Sports and Pastimes, p. 62., from Strype's London, vol. i. p. 250.—In 1682, appeared "A remembrance of the worthy show and shooting by the Duke of Shoreditch and his associates the worshipful citizens of London, upon Tuesday the 17th of September 1583, set forth according to the truth thereof, to the everlasting honour of the game of shooting in the long bow. B. W. M."

[181:A] Vide British Bibliographer, vol. i. pp. 448. 450.

[181:B] Ascham's Works apud Bennet, 4to. p. 55.

[181:C] The Boke named the Governour; the edition of 1553. p. 83.

[182:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. vii. p. 71. Act iv. sc. 1.

[182:B] Lodge's Illustrations of British History, vol. iii. p. 295.

[182:C] Stowe's Survey of London, 4to. 1618. p. 162.

[183:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xii. p. 29. Henry IV. Part ii. act i. sc. 2.

[183:B] The Gull's Horn-book, 4to. 1609. Reprint of 1812, p. 99.

[183:C] Ibid. pp. 101, 102.

[184:A] Gull's Horn-book, pp. 95, 96.

[184:B] Ibid. pp. 97, 98.

[185:A] Gull's Horn-book, p. 97.

[185:B] They are thus called, from wearing _white surplices_.

[185:C] Gull's Horn-book, pp. 99, 100.

[186:A] Gull's Horn-book, pp. 104, 105.

[186:B] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. vii. p. 26. Act i. sc. 2.

[186:C] History of the World, First Part, p. 178.

[186:D] Vide Douce's Illustrations, vol. i. pp. 213, 214.

[186:E] Ben Jonson's Works, fol. edit. 1640. Epigrammes, p. 46.

[187:A] Chalmers's English Poets, vol. v. p. 274. col. 2. Satires, book iv. sat. 2.

[187:B] Works of Ben Jonson; act v. sc. 4.

[188:A] The Workes of Benjamin Jonson, folio. 1640. Masques, p. 143.—Of the costly magnificence of this spectacle, an idea may be formed from that part which relates to the attire of the actors: "that of the Lords," describes the poet, "had part of it taken from the _antique Greek_ statue; mixed with some _moderne_ additions: which made it both gracefull, and strange. On their heads they wore _Persick_ crowns that were with scroles of _gold-plate_ turned outward, and wreathed about with a _carnation_ and _silver_ net-lawne; the one end of which hung carelessly on the left shoulder; the other was tricked up before, in severall degrees of folds, between the plates, and set with _rich jewels_, and _great pearles_. Their bodies were of _carnation_ cloth of _silver_, richly wrought, and cut to expresse the _naked_, in manner of the _Greek Thorax_; girt under the brests with a _broad belt of cloth of gold imbroydered, and fastened before with jewels_: Their Labels were of _white cloth of silver, laced, and wrought curiously between_, sutable to the upper halfe of their sleeves; whose nether parts with their bases, were of _watchet cloth of silver, chev'rond all over with lace_. Their Mantils were of _severall colour'd silkes_, distinguishing their qualities as they were coupled in paires; the first, _skie colour_; the second, _pearle colour_; the third, _flame colour_; the fourth, _tawny_: and these cut in leaves, which were subtilly tack'd up, and _imbroydered_ with Oo's, and between every ranck of leaves, a _broad silver lace_. They were fastened on the right shoulder, and fell compasse down the back in gracious folds, and were again tyed with a round knot, to the fastening of their swords. Upon their legs they wore _silver greaves_." P. 143.

[189:A] Nichols's Progresses of Queen Elizabeth, vol. i. Preface, p. 10.

[190:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iv. p. 137. note by Malone, from Stowe's Annals.

[190:B] Origines Juridiciales, folio, p. 346, edit. 1671.

[190:C] Stowe's Annales, by Howes, folio, p. 1006. edit. 1631.

[191:A] History of English Poetry, vol. ii. p. 365. note.

[192:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xvii. pp. 235, 236. Act iv. sc. 12.

[192:B] The Workes of Benjamin Jonson, fol. 164. Masques, p. 135.

[193:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iv. pp. 135-137. Act iv. sc. 1.

[194:A] Progresses of Queen Elizabeth, vol. i. Preface, p. 19.

[194:B] Ibid. p. 24.

[196:A] This enumeration is abridged from Laneham's Letter, and the "Princely Pleasures at Kenelworth Castle," reprinted in Nichols's Progresses, vol. i.

[197:A] Hurd's Moral and Political Dialogues, vol. i. p. 160. edit. of 1788.

[197:B] Ibid. vol. i. p. 150.

[199:A] Nichols's Progresses, vol. i. Laneham's Letter, p. 81-84.

[200:A] Hurd's Moral and Political Dialogues, vol. i. pp. 148-150.

[201:A] Chalmers's Apology, p. 353.

[202:A] See Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iii. p. 48.

[204:A] Anatomie of Abuses, edit. 1583, p. 90.

[204:B] See Reed's Shakspeare, vol. ii. p. 363. note.

[205:A] Apology, p. 393.

[208:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iii. pp. 51, 52.

[208:B] See Malone's Inquiry, p. 87.; Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iii. p. 64.; and Chalmers's Apology, p. 115.

[209:A] Of the perishable materials, and inconvenient construction of the old theatre, we have some remarkable proofs, in two letters extant, describing the accident. The first written by Sir Henry Wotton, and dated July 2. 1613, concludes by asserting that "nothing did perish but _wood_ and _straw_, and a few forsaken cloaks;" and the second from Mr. John Chamberlaine to Sir Ralph Winwood, dated July 8. 1613, remarks, that "it was a great marvaile and fair grace of God that the people had so little harm, having but _two narrow doors_ to get out."—Reliquiæ Wotton, p. 425. edit. 1685; and Winwood's Memorials, vol. iii. p. 469.

[210:A] See Warton's History of English Poetry, vol. ii. p. 394. note.

[211:A] Gull's Horn-book, Nott's reprint, p. 132.

[211:B] Ibid. p. 135.

[212:A] Gull's Horn-book, p. 138.

[212:B] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iii. pp. 106-108.

[212:C] Ibid. p. 109. note.

[213:A] Apology for Actors, 1612. sig. D.

[214:A] Whiter's Specimen of a Commentary on Shakspeare, pp. 157, 158.

[214:B] Ibid. pp. 178. 183.; and see Prologue to _All Fools_, by Chapman, 1605, in Old Plays, vol. iv. p. 116.

[214:C] Whiter's Specimen, p. 184.

[215:A] Taylor's Works, p. 183.—Mr. Malone is of opinion that to these play-bills we owe "the long and whimsical titles which are prefixed to the quarto copies of our author's plays.—It is indeed absurd to suppose, that the modest Shakspeare, who has more than once apologized for his _untutored lines_, should in his manuscripts have entitled any of his dramas _most excellent and pleasant_ performances." Thus:—

"The _most excellent_ Historie of the Merchant of Venice, 1600."

"A _most pleasant and excellent conceited_ Comedie of Syr John Falstaffe and the Merry Wives of Windsor, 1602."

"The late and _much-admired_ Play, called Pericles Prince of Tyre, 1609," &c. &c. Vide Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iii. pp. 163-165.

[215:B] Schoole of Abuse.—Vide Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iii. p. 154.

[216:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xv. p. 4.

[216:B] Decker's Gull's Horn-book, reprint, p. 18. note.

[217:A] Vide Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iii. p. 175. note.

[217:B] Gull's Horn-book, reprint, p. 146.

[218:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xv. p. 205. Henry VIII. act v. sc. 3.

[218:B] Notes from Black-fryers, by H. Fitz-Jeoffery, 1617.

[218:C] "Dyets Dry Dinner: consisting of eight several courses. 1. Fruites. 2. Hearbes. 3. Flesh. 4. Fish. 5. Whitmeats. 6. Spice. 7. Sauce. 8. Tabacco. All served in after the order of time universall. By Henry Buttes, Maister of Artes, and Fellowe of C. C. C. in C.

Qui miscuit utile dulci. Cicero. Non nobis solum nati sumus, sed Ortus nostri sibi vendicant.

Printed in London by Tho. Creede, for William Wood, and are to be sold at the West end of Powles, at the signe of Tyme, 1599." Small 8vo.

[219:A] "Fennors Descriptions, or a true relation of certaine and divers speeches, spoken before the King and Queene's most excellent Majestie, the Prince his highnesse, and the Lady Elizabeth's Grace. By William Fennor, his Majestie's Servant. London, Printed by Edward Griffin, for George Gibbs, and are to bee sold at his shop in Paul's Church-yard, at the signe of the Flower-De-luce, 1616." 4to.

[219:B] Vide Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iii. p. 120. note.

[219:C] Vide Decker's Gull's Horn-book, reprint, p. 135.

[219:D] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iii. p. 68. note.

[220:A] Malone's Supplement, vol. i. p. 517.—"The hanging however was," remarks the editor, "I suppose, no more than one piece of black baize placed at the back of the stage, in the room of the tapestry which was the common decoration when comedies were acted."

[220:B] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iii. p. 111. note.

[220:C] Whalley's Works of Ben Jonson; Prologue in Induction.

[221:A] Whalley's Jonson; Cynthia's Revels, Induction.

[221:B] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xviii. p. 181. Act iii. sc. 2.

[221:C] Ibid. vol. iv. p. 338. Act i. sc. 2.

[221:D] Coryate's Crudities, 4to. 1611, p. 247.

[222:A] Gull's Horn-book, reprint, pp. 147-149.

[222:B] Sejanus, Catiline, and The New Inn, were all condemned.

[222:C] "There is reason to believe," remarks Mr. Malone, "that the imperfect and mutilated copies of one or two of Shakspeare's dramas, which are yet extant, were taken down by the ear, or in short-hand, during the exhibition."—Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iii. p. 151.

[223:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xii. p. 263.

[224:A] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iii. p. 190.

[224:B] In Davenant's _Play-house to be Let_, occurs the following passage:—

"There is an old tradition, That in the times of mighty _Tamberlane_, Of conjuring _Faustus_ and the _Beauchamps bold_, You poets used to have the _second_ day."

[225:A] On the authority of Decker's Prologue to one of his comedies entitled, _If this be not a good Play the Devil's in't_, 1612:—

———————— "Not caring, so he gains A cram'd _third day_."

[225:B] "Master R. G., would it not make you blush—if you sold _Orlando Furioso_ to the queenes players for _twenty nobles_, and when they were in the country, sold the same play to Lord Admirals men, for _as much more_?"—Defence of Coney-catching, 1592.

[225:C] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iii. p. 172.

[225:D] "Had I time I would comment upon it, though I know it needs not, (for so much as will make you thinke your _testerne_ well bestowd) but for so much worth, as even poore I know to be stuft in it."—Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xv. p. 226.

[225:E] "I did determine not to have _dedicated_ my play to any body, because _forty shillings_ I care not for; and above, few or none will bestow on these matters."—Dedication to _A Woman's a Weathercock_, a comedy by N. Field, 1612.

[225:F] Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iii. p. 191.