Chapter III (2)

Another specimen of this class of romances of nearly equal popularity with the preceding, though inferior in point of merit, may be instanced in the once celebrated _Palmerin of England_, which, like Amadis of Gaul, safely passed the ordeal of the Curate of Don Quixote's village:—"Let Palmerin of England," says the Licentiate, "be preserved, and kept as a singular piece: and let such another case be made for it, as that which Alexander found among the spoils of Darius, and appropriated to preserve the works of the poet Homer.—Therefore, Master Nicholas, saving your better judgment, let this and Amadis de Gaul be exempted from the fire, and let all the rest perish without any further enquiry."[547:A]

Palmerin of England, like its prototype, Amadis de Gaul, is supposed to have originated in Portugal. Mr. Southey, indeed, confidently attributes it to the pen of Francis de Moraes; an ascription which is in direct opposition to the authority of Cervantes, who asserts it to have been written by a King of Portugal. It has shared the like fate, too, in this country, with regard to its translator; Anthony Munday having been the first to usher Palmerin, as well as Amadis, to an English public; in fact, though in its original garb it appeared a century and a half later than the romance of Lobeira, it claims priority with regard to its English dress, having been licensed to Charlewood, and printed in 1580.

The multiplicity and rapid succession of extraordinary events in Palmerin of England, are such as to distract the most steady attention, and if it really deserved the encomium which the curate bestowed upon it in comparison with the rest of the worthy knight's library, little surprise can be excited at the mental hallucinations which the study of such a collection might ultimately produce.

Of the versions of honest Anthony, one of the most indefatigable translators of romance in the reign of Elizabeth, not much can be said, either in point of style or fidelity. Labouring for those who possessed an eager and indiscriminating appetite for the marvellous, he was not greatly solicitous about the preservation of the manners and costume of his original, but rather strove to accommodate his authors to the taste of the majority of his readers. To enumerate the various romances which he attempted to naturalise, would be tedious and unprofitable; the two that we have already noticed, together with "Palmerin D'Oliva," and "The honorable, pleasant, and rare conceited Historie of Palmendo[548:A]," were among the most popular, and will be sufficient to impart an idea of what, among the peninsular works of fiction, were most in vogue, when romances were as much read as novels are in the present age.

The last species of romance, which we shall notice as fashionable in Elizabeth's reign, may be termed the _Pastoral_. Of this class the most celebrated specimen that we can mention, is the _Arcadia_ of Sir Philip Sidney, a book well known to Shakspeare, which continued highly popular for near a century, and reached an eighth edition as early as 1633, independent of impressions in Scotland, of which one occurs before the year 1600.[548:B]

The Arcadia appears to have been commenced by its author for the sole amusement of himself and his sister, the Countess of Pembroke, during his residence at Wilton, in 1580, and though prosecuted at various periods was left incomplete at his death in 1586. The affection of the Countess, however, to whose care and protection the scattered manuscripts had been assigned, induced her to publish an impression of it in the year 1590, revised under her own immediate direction; since which period fourteen editions have borne testimony to the merits of the work, and to the correctness of the editor's judgment.

To the publication of this far-famed romance, which is in many respects truly beautiful, and in every respect highly moral, we may attribute an important revolution in the annals of fictitious writing. It appears to have been suggested to the mind of Sir Philip, by two models of very different ages, and to have been built, in fact, on their admixture; these are the Ethiopic History of Heliodorus, Bishop of Tricca, in Thessaly, and the Arcadia of Sannazaro, productions as widely separated as the fourth and the sixteenth centuries. Their connection, however, will be more readily explained, when we recollect, that a translation of Heliodorus into English had been published only three years before the commencement of Sidney's Arcadia. This was the work of Thomas Underdowne, who printed a version of the ten entire books in 1577, dedicating them to Edward de Vere, Earl of Oxford.[549:A] That the _English_ Heliodorus was chiefly instrumental in giving this peculiar direction to the genius of Sidney, was the opinion of Warton; but we must likewise recollect, that the Arcadia of Sannazaro, with which Sir Philip, as an excellent Italian scholar, must have been well acquainted[549:B], presented him with the model for his shepherds, for their costume, diction, and sentiment, and that, like the English work, it is a mingled composition of poetry and prose.

Dismissing many of the paraphernalia of the ancient chivalric romance, its magicians, enchanted castles, dragons, and giants, but retaining its high-toned spirit of gallantry, heroism, and courtesy, combined with the utmost purity in morals, and with all the traditionary simplicity and innocence of rural life, the pastoral romance of Sidney exhibited a species of composition more reconcilable to probability than the adventures of Arthur and Amadis, but less natural and familiar than the tales of the Italians. In these last, however, virtue and decency are too often sacrificed at the shrine of licentiousness, whilst in the Arcadia of our countryman not a sentiment occurs which can excite a blush on the cheek of the most delicate modesty. To this moral tendency of Sidney's fictions, the muse of Cowper has borne testimony in the following pleasing lines:—

"Would I had fall'n upon those happier days,
That poets celebrate; those golden times,
And those Arcadian scenes, that Maro sings,
And _Sidney, warbler of poetic prose_.
Nymphs were Dianas then, and swains had hearts.
That felt their virtues: innocence, it seems,
From courts dismissed, found shelter in the groves;
The footsteps of simplicity, impress'd
Upon the yielding herbage, (so they sing)
Then were not all effac'd: then speech profane,
And manners profligate, were rarely found;
Observed as prodigies, and soon reclaim'd."[550:A]

Had the disciples of Sir Philip adhered to the model which he constructed; had they, rejecting merely his unfortunate attempt to introduce the Roman metres into modern poetry, preserved his strength and animation in description, his beauty and propriety of sentiment, his variety and discrimination of character, the school of Sidney might have existed at the present hour. On the contrary, whatever was objectionable and overstrained in their prototype, they found out the art to aggravate; and by a monstrous and monotonous overcharge of character, by a bloated tenuity of style, by a vein of sentiment so quaintly exalted as to have nothing of human sympathy about it, and by an indefinite prolixity of fable, they contrived to outrage nature nearly as much as had been effected by the wonders of necromancy and the achievements of chivalry; and this, too, without producing a scintillation of those splendid traits of fancy which illumine, and even atone for, the wild fictions of the Anglo-Norman romance. The Astrea of D'Urfé, written about twenty years after Sidney's work, though sufficiently tedious, and frequently unnatural, makes the nearest approach to the pastoral beauty of the Arcadia; but what longevity can attach to, or what patience shall endure, the numerous and prodigious tomes of Madame Scuderi?[551:A]

The shades of oblivion seem gathering fast even over the beautiful reveries of Sidney, a fate most undoubtedly hastened by the prolix and perverted labours of his successors; and what was the fashion and delight of the seventeenth century has generally ceased to charm. So great, indeed, was once the popularity of the Arcadia, that its effects became an object of consideration to the satirist and the historian. In 1631, we find the former thus admonishing the ladies:—"Insteade of songes and musicke let them learn cookerie and launderie. And instead of reading _Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia_, let them reade the groundes of good huswifery."[551:B] But the grave annalist and antiquary, Fuller, has, with more good sense, vindicated the study of this moral romance:—"I confess," says he, "I have heard some of modern pretended wits cavil at the _Arcadia_, because they made it not themselves: such who say that his book is the occasion that many precious hours are otherwise spent no better, must acknowledge it also the cause that many idle hours are otherwise spent no worse than in reading thereof."[551:C] There is no work, in short, in the department of _prose-fiction_ which contains more apothegmatic wisdom than the Arcadia of Sidney; and it is to be regretted that the volume which had charmed a Shakspeare, a Milton, and a Waller[551:D], and which has been praised by Temple[552:A], by Heylin[552:B], and by Cowper, should be suffered, in any deference to the opinion of Lord Orford[552:C], to slumber on the shelf.

It is with pleasure, however, that we find a very modern critic not only passing a just and animated eulogium on the Arcadia, but asserting on his own personal knowledge, that, even in the general classes of society, it has still its readers and admirers. "Nobody, it has been said, reads the Arcadia. We have known very many persons who have read it, men, women, and children, and never knew one who read it without deep interest and admiration at the genius of the writer, great in proportion as they were capable of appreciating it. The verses are very bad, not that he was a bad poet, (on the contrary, much of his poetry is of high merit,) but because he was then versifying upon an impracticable system. Let the reader pass over all the eclogues, as dull interludes unconnected with the drama, and if he do not delight in the story itself, in the skill with which the incidents are woven together and unravelled, and in the Shakespearean power and character of language, with which they are painted; let him be assured the fault is in himself and not in the book."[552:D]

After this brief survey of the state of romantic literature, and of the various romances which were most popular, in the days of Shakspeare, it will be a proper appendage, if we add a few observations on the yet lingering relics of chivalric costume. That gorgeous spectacle, the Tournament, in which numerous knights engaged together on either side, fighting with the sword and truncheon, was latterly superseded by the joust or tilting-match, consisting of a succession of combats between two knights at one time, and in which the spear was the only weapon used. The dexterous management of this military amusement depended upon striking the front of the opponent's helmet, in such a manner as either to beat him backward from his horse, or break the spear in the contest. Jousting or tilting, which was usually celebrated in honour of the ladies, by whom the prizes were always awarded and distributed, continued to be a favourite diversion with Elizabeth to the close of her reign; she was attached to the gallantry which constituted the soul of these games, and to the splendour which accompanied their exhibition, and her nobles were not backward in encouraging and gratifying her romantic taste. Of this a remarkable instance may be adduced, in the person of Sir Henry Lee, Knight of the Garter, who vowed that he would annually, while health and strength permitted, enter the tilt-yard as his sovereign's knight. The completion of this vow led to annual contentions in the lists, and twenty-five personages of the first rank, among whom are to be found Lord Leicester, Sir Christopher Hatton, &c. agreed to establish a society of arms for this purpose. The presidency of the association was resigned by Sir Henry, on the plea of infirmity, in 1590, when he formally invested the Earl of Cumberland with his dignity, one of the most envied at that time, in the court of Elizabeth.[553:A]

It was usual at these chivalric exhibitions, which ceased on the demise of their regal patroness, for the combatants, and even the men of fashion who attended as spectators, to wear a lady's favour on their arm; and when a knight had tilted with peculiar grace and spirit, the ladies were wont to fling a scarf or glove upon him as he passed; a custom which Shakspeare has attributed, as is frequent with him, to an age long anterior to chivalric usage, for he represents Coriolanus, on his way to the capitol, as thus honoured:

—————— "The matrons flung their gloves,
Ladies and maids their scarfs and handkerchiefs,
Upon him as he pass'd."[554:A]

It appears also, from a passage in the second part of _King Henry the Fourth_, that an oath derived from a singular observance in the days of chivalry, was common in the days of Shakspeare; for Shallow, persuading Sir John Falstaff to remain with him as his visitor, exclaims, "By _cock and pye_, Sir, you shall not away to night[554:B];" an adjuration which Steevens and Ridley refer to a corruption of the sacred name, and to a service-book of the Romish church, called in this country, previous to the Reformation, _a pie_; but Mr. Douce has, with more probability, advanced the origin to which we allude. "It will, no doubt, be recollected," he observes, "that in the days of ancient chivalry it was the practice to make solemn vows or engagements for the performance of some considerable enterprize. This ceremony was usually performed during some grand feast or entertainment, at which a roasted peacock or pheasant, being served up by ladies in a dish of gold or silver, was thus presented to each knight, who then made the particular vow which he had chosen, with great solemnity. When this custom had fallen into disuse, the peacock nevertheless continued to be a favourite dish, and was introduced on the table in a _pie_, the head, with gilded beak, being proudly elevated above the crust, and the splendid tail expanded. Other birds of smaller value were introduced in the same manner, and the recollection of the old peacock vows might occasion the less serious, or even burlesque, imitation of swearing not only by the bird itself, but also by the _pie_; and hence probably the oath _by cock and pie_."[554:C]

As all persons beneath the rank of an esquire were precluded, by the laws of chivalry, from taking any part in the celebration of justs and tournaments, while at the same time, a strong desire of _imitation_ was excited in the public mind, by the attractive nature of these diversions, it soon became an object with the commonality to establish something which might bear a striking resemblance to the favourite amusements of their superiors. Hence the origin of tilting at the quintain, which we have already noticed in the chapter on Rural Diversions, and of tilting at the ring and on the water; sports, of which even the Queen herself condescended not unfrequently to be a spectator.

Tilting at the ring was considered as the most respectable of the three amusements, and was generally practised as a preparatory exercise to the knightly feat of jousting. The ring was suspended at a fixed height, in a sheath, by the contrivance of two springs, and the object of the tilter was, while riding at full speed, to thrust the point of his lance through the ring, drawing it, by the strength of his stroke, from its sheath, and bearing it away on the summit of his lance. In this pastime, the horses, as well as the men, required constant training and practice, and, on the day of contest, the palm of victory was adjudged to him who in three courses, for this number was allowed to each candidate, carried the point of his lance the oftenest through the ring.

Of these games the most vulgar, but the most productive of merriment, was that of tilting on the water, in which the combatants, standing in the centre of their respective boats, were armed with a lance and shield, and he was esteemed the conqueror, who, by a dexterous management of his weapon, contrived to strike his adversary in such a manner as to overturn him in the water, while he himself remained firm and stationary. With this curious exhibition it would appear that the Queen was highly gratified, on her visit to Sandwich, "where certain wallounds that could well swym, had prepared two boates, and in the middle of each boate was placed a borde, upon which borde there stood a man, and so they met together, with either of them a staff and a shield of wood; and one of them did overthrow another, at which the Queene had good sport."[556:A]

To jousting, and to tilting at the ring, some of the most remarkable relics of expiring chivalry, and of which the latter had attained to almost scientific precision at the commencement of the seventeenth century, Shakspeare has several allusions in the course of his dramas.[556:B] The most striking of these refers to an accident which not unfrequently occurred, when a knight, unable to manage his horse with due skill, suffered it to deviate sideways in its career, the consequence of which was, that instead of breaking his lance in a direct line against his adversary's helmet, it was broken _across_ his breast, a circumstance deemed highly dishonourable, as the result either of timidity or want of dexterity:—"O, that's a brave man!" says Celia, speaking of Orlando, in _As You Like It_, "he writes brave verses, speaks brave words, swears brave oaths, and breaks them bravely, quite traverse, athwart the heart of his lover; as a puny tilter, that spurs his horse but on one side, breaks his staff like a noble goose."[556:C]

It was about this period too, the close of the sixteenth century, that another remnant of romantic usage became nearly extinct. We allude to the profession of the _Minstrel_, which, until the year 1597, had been cherished or tolerated in this country, from an era as ancient as the conquest.

During the reign of Elizabeth, indeed, the character of the _Minstrel_, combining the offices of the poet, the singer, and the musician, and that of the _Jestour_, or mere reciter of tales and gestes, gradually lost their importance and respectability, and were no longer protected by the noble and the opulent. On the accession of the Queen, however, and for about twenty years afterwards, instances may be adduced where the Minstrel appears to have acted in his genuine capacity, that is, as the sole depository of the poems which he chaunted, and not, as was subsequently the case, the fabricator of songs and ballads merely for the press. The latest specimens of what may be termed the old Minstrelsy, Dr. Percy assigns to the years 1569 and 1572, when the ballads entitled "_The Rising in the North_," and "_Northumberland betrayed by Douglas_," were produced.[557:A] Between the Minstrel-ballads and those written merely for the press, a marked difference was usually perceptible, the former exhibiting greater rudeness of language, with a more northern cast in their structure; greater irregularity in metre, and incidents more romantic, wild, and chivalric; while the latter presented altogether a southern dialect, more correct versification, incidents, though occasionally pathetic, comparatively tame and insipid, and a costume more modern and familiar. Of this last kind, were the numerous ballads of the reign of James the First, frequently collected together, and published under the appellation of _Garlands_.

There is reason to suppose, notwithstanding the declining state of the minstrel tribe, that some attention was yet paid to their appearance and dress; that their ancient distinguishing costume was well known, and sometimes imitated, and that, especially in the prior half of the Elizabethan era, a peculiar garb was still attached to their office. We are warranted in these inferences by contemporary authority: Laneham, in his description of Elizabeth's entertainment at Killingworth Castle, in 1575, mentions his having been in company with a person who was to have performed the character of an _ancient Minstrel_ before the Queen, "if meete time and place had been foound for it." This man, who was probably a member of the profession, entertained some worshipful friends, of which Laneham was one, with a representation of the part which he should have enacted at the Earl of Leicester's; and it is remarkable that this assumed minstrel is styled, "_a squire minstrel of Middilsex, that travaild the cuntree THYS soomer season unto fayrz and woorshipfull menz houzez_;" a strong proof that the character, in all its full costume, was not considered as sufficiently bizarre and obsolete to render such an assertion improbable. "A person very meete seemed he for the purpose; (we here drop the author's absurd orthography;) of a XLV years old, apparelled partly as he would himself. His cap off, his head seemly rounded tonster-wise; fair kembed, that with a sponge daintily dipt in a little capon's grease, was finely smoothed to make it shine like a mallard's wing; his beard smugly shaven; and yet his shirt after the new trink, with ruffs fair-starched, sleeked, and glistering like a pair of new shoes: marshalled in good order: with a stetting stick, and stout that every ruff stood up like a wafer. A side gown of Kendal green, after the freshness of the year now; gathered at the neck with a narrow gorget, fastened afore with a white clasp and a keeper close up to the chin, but easily for heat to undo when he list: seemly begirt in a red caddis girdle; from that a pair of capped Sheffield knives hanging a to side (one on each side): out of his bosom drawn forth a lappet of his napkin, edged with a blue lace, and marked with a true love, a heart, and a D. for _Damian_; for he was but a batchelor yet.

"His gown had side sleeves down to midleg, slit from the shoulder to the hand, and lined with white cotton. His doublet-sleeves of black worsted: upon them a pair of poynets of tawny chamblet, laced along the wrist with blue threaden joints; a wealt toward the hand of fustian anapes: a pair of red neather stocks: a pair of pumps on his feet, with a cross cut at the toes for cornes; not new, indeed, yet cleanly blacked with soot, and shining as a shoeing horn. About his neck, a red ribband suitable to his girdle: his harp in good grace dependent before him: his wrest[558:A] tied to a green lace, and hanging by. Under the gorget of his gown a fair flagon chain of pewter (for silver); as a _squire minstrel_ of Middlesex, that travelled the country this summer season, unto fairs and worshipful mens houses. From his chain hung a scutcheon, with metal and colour, resplendent upon his breast, of the ancient arms of Islington.—After three lowly courtsies, 'he' cleared his voice with a hem and reach, and spat out withal; wiped his lips with the hollow of his hand for filing his napkin, tempered a string or two with his wrest, and after a little warbling on his harp for a prelude, came forth with a solemn song, warranted for story out of _King Arthur's acts_."[559:A]

In 1592, Henry Chettle, describing _Anthony Now-Now_, an aged and celebrated minstrel of his own time, represents him as "an od old fellow; low of stature, his head covered with a _round cap_, his body with a _tawney coate_, his legs and feete truste uppe in _leather buskins_, his gray haires and furrowed face witnessed his age, his _treble viol_ in his hande[559:B];" from which it would appear that even to the last the members of this tuneful tribe were distinguished by some peculiarity of dress.

In the mean time, however, they were becoming, through the dissoluteness of their manners, obnoxious to government, and contemptible in the public estimation. Stubbes, in the first edition of his Anatomie of Abuses, 1583, terms them a parcel of drunken sockets, and baudy parasites, that "raunge the countries," he observes, "riming and singing of unclean, corrupt, and filthy songs in tavernes, ale-houses, innes, and other publike assemblies.—There is no ship," he exclaims, "so laden with merchandize, as their heads are pestred with al kinds of baudy songs, filthy ballades, and scurvy rymes, serving for every purpose, and for every company. For proof whereof," he subjoins, "who bee baudier knaves than they? who uncleaner than they? who more licentious, and looser minded than they? and brieflie, who more inclined to all kind of insolency and leudness than they?—I think that al good minstrels, sober and chast musitions, may dance the wild Moris through a needles eye." He subsequently adds that, notwithstanding their immorality, "every toune, citie, and countrey, is full of these minstrelles to pipe up a daunce to the devill."

That this description is not much exaggerated by the puritanical severity of its author, is evident from the language of Puttenham, a courtier and polite writer, who calls this degraded race "_cantabanqui_," singers "upon benches and barrels heads—minstrels that give a fit of mirth for a groat—in taverns and ale-houses, and such other places of base resort[560:A];" a picture corroborated by the authority of Bishop Hall, who a few years afterwards, speaking of the exhilarating effect of his own satirical poetry, says it is

"Much better than a Paris-garden beare,
Or prating poppet on a theater,
_Or Mimœ's whistling to his tabouret,
Selling a laughter for a cold meal's meat_."[560:B]

The character which Shakspeare attributes to the minstrel race of this period, is in accordance with the preceding passages. In the original edition of his _Rape of Lucrece_, which appeared in 1594, he draws his heroine exclaiming,

"_Feast-finding_ minstrels, tuning my defame,
Will tie the hearers to attend each line."[560:C]

The epithet in _Italics_ very distinctly points out the vagrant life of these attendants on merriment and good cheer. They were accustomed to travel the country, in search of bride-ales, Christmas dinners, fairs, &c., and wherever they could get access to the halls of the gentry and nobility.

It is in the _Winter's Tale_, however, that the minstrel of our poet's age is but too faithfully depicted. In the person of Autolycus, whom we have already noticed, when describing the country wake, is to be found, in colours faithful to nature, the very object of Stubbe's satire, a composition very curiously blending the various functions of the minstrel, the pedlar, and the rogue.

No harshness therefore can be attributed to the act of Queen Elizabeth, which in 1597 nearly annihilated an occupation so vilely associated and degraded. In the fourth chapter of this statute the law enacts that "all fencers, bearwards, common players of enterludes, and MINSTRELLS, wandering abroad; all juglers, tinkers, pedlars, &c. shall be adjudged and deemed _rogues_, _vagabonds_, and _sturdy beggers_;" a clause which, very deservedly, put an end to a profession which, though once highly respectable and interesting, no longer had a claim to public support; a clause which enabled Dr. Bull to say, with much truth,

"Beggars they are with one consent,
And Rogues, by Act of Parliament."[561:A]

Of the use which Shakspeare made of the various romances, tales, and ballads which undoubtedly occupied a large portion of his library, an accurate estimate may be formed from a close inspection of his dramas. It will be found, that, with the exception of the Historical plays, derived either from English chronicles or translations of classic story, the residue of his dramatic productions may be traced to sources exclusively existing within the regions of romantic literature. As we shall have occasion, however, hereafter to notice the origin of each drama, as it passes before us in chronological succession, it will merely be necessary in this place, in order to afford some proof of his familiarity with these fictions, to select a few specimens of his allusion to them from the body of his plays.

That our poet was well acquainted with the celebrated Romance, entitled _Mort d'Arthure_, the most popular of its class, would have been readily admitted from the known course of his studies, even if he had not once alluded to it in the course of his works. In the _Second Part_, however, of _King Henry the Fourth_, he makes _Shallow_, vaunting of his youthful feats to Falstaffe, say, "I was then _Sir Dagonet_ in _Arthur's show_[562:A];" a line upon which Mr. Douce observes, "Whatever part Sir Dagonet took in this show would doubtless be borrowed from Mallory's romance of the _Mort Arture_, which had been compiled in the reign of Henry VII. What there occurs relating to Sir Dagonet was extracted from the excellent and ancient story of _Tristan de Leonnois_, in which Dagonet is represented as the fool of king Arthur[562:B];" a character certainly well adapted to the powers of the worthy justice.

It should, however, be remarked, that the _Arthur's show_ in this passage was not, what it might at first be supposed, an exact representation of the ancient chivalric costume of that romantic Prince and his knights, but principally an exhibition of _Archery_ by a toxophilite society, of which Richard Robinson, the translator of the English Gesta, has given us an account under the title of "_The Auncient Order Societie, and Unitie Laudable, of Prince Arthure and his knightly Armory of the Round Table. With a Threefold Assertion friendly in favour and furtherance of English Archery at this day_." 1583. 4to.[562:C]

These city-worthies, to the number of fifty-eight, it would seem, had for some time assumed the arms and the names of the knights of the Round Table, and Robinson, who the year before had published a translation of Leland's _Assertio Arthvrii_, thought proper to dedicate his _Ancient Order_ to M. Thomas Smith, Esq., the then Prince Arthur of this fellowship, and compliments him by deducing his society from the establishment of the round table in the reign of Edward the First. "But touching your famous order and fellowship of knights in shooting, though in K. E. I. his time (ann. 1279) a valiant Knight and manly Mortimer at Kenelworth appointed a knightly game, which was called the Round Table of 100 knights and so manie Ladies (nameth not expressely shooting to be one) yet for exercise of armes thither came many warlike knightes of divers kingdomes. And the most famous and victorious king E. 3. builded at Winchester (ann. 1344) an house called the Round Table of an exceeding compasse, to the exercise of like or farre greater Chevalry therin:—So the most famous, prudent, politike and grave prince K. Henry the 7 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 renowned 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 renowned David, enacting a good and godly statute (ann. 33. H. 8. cap. 9.) for the use and exercise of shooting in every degree. And furthermore 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 Knights of Prince Arthures Round Table or Society: like as in his life time when he sawe a good Archer indeede, he chose him and ordained such a one for a knight of the same order."[563:A]

As this "_friendly and franke fellowship_ of Prince Arthur's Knightes," as Mulcaster terms it in his Positions[563:B], bore little resemblance to its celebrated archetype in any point of chivalric observance, beyond the name; and as archery had ceased to be an object with government in a military light, and was considered indeed, in the reign of James I., as a mere pastime, the society, though respectable in the days of Robinson and Mulcaster, soon dwindled into contempt, an idle mockery of an institution which had originally been great and imposing.

In MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING, our author very distinctly refers to another of Captain Cox's romances, _Huon of Bourdeaux_, a production of equal popularity with Morte Arthure, and which was translated into English by Lord Berners, in the reign of Henry the Eighth[564:A], under the title of _Sir Hugh of Bourdeaux_. Benedict being informed of the approach of Beatrice, addresses Don Pedro in the following terms:—"Will your grace command me any service to the world's end? I will go on the slightest errand now to the Antipodes, that you can devise to send me on; I will fetch you a tooth-picker now from the farthest inch of Asia; bring you the length of Prester John's foot; _fetch you a hair of the great Cham's beard_; do you any embassage to the Pigmies, rather than hold three word's conference with this harpy."[564:B] The passage in Italics, together with the spirit of the context, will be discovered in the subsequent command and achievement.

"Thou must goe to the citie of Babylon to the Admiral Gaudisse, to bring me thy hand full of the heare of his beard, and foure of his greatest teeth. Alas, my lord, (quoth the Barrons,) we see well you desire greatly his death, when you charge him with such a message."[564:C]

"He opened his mouth, and tooke out his foure great teeth, and then cut off his beard, and tooke thereof as much as pleased him."[564:D]

This version of Lord Berners furnished Shakspeare with the name, though not with the character, of _Oberon_.

The SECOND PART OF KING HENRY THE SIXTH supplies us with a reference to the ancient romance of _Sir Bevis of Southampton_. In the combat between Horner and his servant Peter, the former exclaims—"Peter, have at thee with a downright blow, _as Bevis of Southampton fell upon_ Ascapart."[565:A]

This romance, which forms the fourth article in the Coventry Library, was once highly popular, though possessing little merit. It was printed by Pynson, and issued twice from the press of Copland, and once from that of East. It has been since frequently republished, in various forms, for the amusement of the juvenile part of the community.

Of the hero of the tale, Selden has left us the following notice in his notes on the Polyolbion:—"About the Norman invasion was Bevis famous with the title of Earl of Southampton; Duncton in Wiltshire known for his residence.—His sword is kept as a relique in Arundel Castle; not equalling in length (as it is now worn) that of Edward 3, at Westminster."[565:B]

Shakspeare has done further honour to this legend, by putting two lines of it into the mouth of Edgar. Bevis, being confined in a dungeon, was allowed neither meat nor corn, but

"Rattes and myce and such smal dere
Was his meate that seven yere;"

a distich which the supposed madman in Lear has thus, almost verbally, adopted:—

"But mice, and rats, and such small deer,
Have been Tom's food for seven long year."[566:A]

Dr. Percy has observed that Shakspeare had doubtless often heard this metrical romance sung to the harp[566:B]; the popularity of these legends, indeed, was such that, towards the end of Elizabeth's reign, most of them were converted into prose, a degradation which befel Sir Bevis, Sir Guy of Warwick, and many others of equal celebrity. To this last romance Shakspeare has an allusion in his _King John_, where the bastard speaks of

"Colbrand the giant, that same mighty man,"[566:C]

the defeat of this Danish Goliah, in single combat, by Sir Guy, being one of the leading features of the story.

It is highly probable, that the achievement ascribed to King Richard, in this play, of tearing out the lion's heart[566:D], was immediately derived from a copy of the old metrical romance in the poet's library. It is true that the chronicles of Fabian and Rastall have detailed this fiction, and there is no doubt, from the same authority; but the metrical legend of Richard Cœur de Lion being one of the most popular of the Anglo-Norman romances, and having been thrice printed, twice by W. De Worde, and once by Will. Copland, there is much reason to conclude that an acknowledged lover, and collector, of this branch of literature would prefer taking his imagery from the poem itself, more especially if it rested upon his shelves.

It appears from this romance, that Richard not only tore out the heart of the lion, but, dipping it in salt, eat it before the eyes of the astonished king of Almain, a feat which instantly drew from His Majesty the peculiar appellation which designates the tale:—

"Yevis, as I understand can,
This is a devil, and no man,
That has my strong lion y-slawe,
The heart out of his body drawe,
And has it eaten with good will!
He may be called, by right skill,
King y-christened of most renown,
Strong _Richard Cœur de Lion_!"[567:A]

The play of _Henry the Fifth_ furnishes a reference to the fifth article in Laneham's catalogue of the Coxean collection. Fluellen compelling Pistol to eat his leek, tells him,—"You called me yesterday, mountain-squire; but I will make you to-day a _squire of low degree_."[567:B]

This romance, which was licensed to John Kynge on the tenth of June 1560[567:C], and printed by William Copland before 1570[567:D], was one of the most popular of the sixteenth century, and possesses some striking traits of manners, and several very curious poetical sketches. It is twice alluded to by Spenser[567:E] in his Faerie Queene, and has been supposed, though probably without sufficient foundation, to have existed in manuscript anterior to the age of Chaucer.[567:F]

There are some scenes in Shakspeare which appear to have been originally derived from _Oriental_ fable. Thus, in _Twelfth Night_, the leading ideas of Malvolio's soliloquy (act ii. sc. 5.), bear a strong resemblance, as Mr. Tyrrwhitt observes, to those of Alnaschar, in _The Arabian Nights Entertainments_; an observation which has drawn from Mr. Steevens the following curious and pertinent note:—

"Many Arabian fictions had found their way into obscure Latin and French books, and from thence into English ones, long before any professed version of _The Arabian Nights Entertainments_ had appeared. I meet with a story similar to that of Alnaschar, in _The Dialoge of Creatures Moralysed_, bl. l. no date, but probably printed abroad: 'It is but foly to hope to moche of vanyteys. Whereof it is told in fablis that a lady uppon a tyme delyuered to her mayden a galon of mylke to sell at a cite. And by the waye as she sate and restid her by a dyche side, she began to thinke y{t} with ye money of the mylke she wolde bye an henne, the which shulde bring forth chekyns, and when they were grownyn to hennys she wolde sell them and by piggis, and eschaunge them into shepe, and the shepe into oxen; and so whan she was come to richnesse she sholde be married right worshipfully unto some worthy man, and thus she rejoycid. And when she was thus marvelously comfortid, and ravished inwardely in her secrete solace thinkynge with howe great joye she shuld be ledde towarde the churche with her husbond on horsebacke, she sayde to her self, Goo wee, goo wee, sodaynelye she smote the grounde with her fote, myndynge to spurre the horse; but her fote slypped and she fell in the dyche, and there laye all her mylke; and so she was farre from her purpose, and never had that she hopid to have. Dial. 100, LL. ij b."[568:A]

We may also refer the _Induction_ to the _Taming of the Shrew_ to the same source, to _The Sleeper awakened_, in the Arabian Nights, a tale which seems to have crept from its oriental fountain through every modern European language. Its earliest appearance in English that can now be traced, is derived from the information of Mr. Warton, who informs us that his friend Mr. Collins, the celebrated lyric poet, had in his possession a collection of short comic stories in prose, "sett forth by maister Richard Edwards, mayster of her Majesties revels," and with the date of 1570. This book, which was printed in the black letter, contained the story of the _Induction_, and was, there is little doubt, the source whence Shakspeare and the author of the elder _Taming of the Shrew_ drew their outline.[569:A] A similar tale is the subject of a ballad in the Pepysian collection, which has been published by Percy[569:B], and it is to be found also in Sir Richard Barckley's _Discourse on the Felicitie of Man_, 1598, in Goulart's _Admirable and Memorable Histories_, translated by E. Grimstone, 1607; in Burton's _Anatomie of Melancholy_, 1615; in _The Apothegms of King James, King Charles, the Marquis of Worcester_, &c. 1658, and in Winstanley's _Historical Rarities_, 1684.[569:C] Some of the Arabian Tales and some of the Fables of Pilpay may be traced in _The Seven Wise Masters_, and in the English _Gesta Romanorum_.

To romances of _Italian_ origin and structure, such as were exhibited in English versions often mutilated and incorrect, our author's obligations are so numerous, particularly with regard to the formation of plot, that, referring to a future consideration of each play for further illustration on these subjects, we shall only remark in this place, that many of the faults which have been ascribed to Shakspeare's want of judgment in the conduct of his dramas, are attributable to the necessity he was under, either from want of power or want of time, of applying to versions and imitations in lieu of the originals; a species of accommodation which frequently led him to adopt the mistakes of a wretched translation, when a reference to the Italian would immediately have induced a better choice. This will account for many of the charges which Mrs. Lennox has brought against the poet, in respect to deficiency of skill in the arrangement of his incidents.[569:D]

The _First Part of King Henry the Fourth_ presents us with an allusion to one of those _Spanish_ romances which became so popular towards the close of Elizabeth's reign. Falstaff, in answer to the Prince, who had told him, that he saw no reason why he should "be so superfluous to demand the time of the day," replies, "Indeed, you come near me now, Hal: for we, that take purses, go by the moon and seven stars; and not by Phœbus,—he, _that wandering knight so fair_."[570:A]

The romance to which this passage stands indebted, is entitled, in the best and most complete edition, "_Espeio de Principes, y Cavalleros. En el qual se cuentan los immortales hechos de CAVALLERO DEL FEBO_," &c. &c., four parts, folio, and is the subject of the Barber's eulogium in Don Quixote. "He (the Don) had frequent disputes with the priest of his village, who was a learned person, and had taken his degrees in Ciguenza, which of the two was the better knight, Palmerin of England, or Amadis de Gaul. But master Nicholas, barber-surgeon of the same town, affirmed, that none ever came up to the _Knight of the Sun_."[570:B]

This production, the first part of which was translated into English, under the title of _The Myrrour of Knighthood_, was well known in Shakspeare's time; the second part of the first book having been printed in the black letter, by Thomas Este, in 1585.[570:C] The whole occupies three volumes in 4to., and in it the Knight of the Sun is represented not only as "most excellently _faire_," but as a prodigious _wanderer_; so that Falstaff, who, by an easy association, digresses from Phœbus to this solar knight-errant, has very compendiously combined his characteristics.

It is probable that the celebrated passage in Hamlet's soliloquy, where the prince speaks of

"The undiscovered country, from whose bourn
No traveller returns,"[571:A]

may have been founded on a similar idea in the Spanish romance entitled _Palmerin d'Oliva_. The translation of Palmerin was first printed in 1588, and in Part II. chap. 3. the reader must be struck with the following words,—"before he took his journey wherein no creature returneth agaie." Now, as Hamlet, according to the chronological arrangement of Mr. Malone, was not written until 1596, and Palmerin d'Oliva may certainly be reckoned among the most fashionable romances of its day, the conjecture is entitled to attention. It is necessary, however, to add, that we are altogether indebted for it to a learned and ingenious correspondent in the British Bibliographer, whose initial signature is W. and whose acquaintance with romantic lore appears to be equally accurate and profound.[571:B]

To this gentleman we are under further obligation for the confirmation of a supposition made by Mr. Douce, who, commenting on this part of Hamlet's soliloquy, refers it to a passage in the _History of Valentine and Orson_, and adds,—"It is probable that there was an edition of Valentine and Orson in Shakspeare's time, though none such is supposed now to remain."[571:C]

Such an edition, it appears, is in the possession of the correspondent of Sir Egerton Brydges, who has given us a description of it, together with the following title, as drawn from the colophon:—"_The historie of the two valyante brethren Valentyne and Orson, sônes vn to the Emperour of Græce. Imprinted at London over a gaynst St. Margaretes Churche in Lothbery be William Coplande._" Small 4to. b. l. sig. I. i. 5. wood-cuts.[572:A] The antiquity of this copy, though without date, is ascertained by the circumstance, that Will. Copland, the printer, died between the years 1568 and 1569; and there is even reason to suppose, that this is but a re-impression, for, after the table of contents, a short note states, "Here endeth the table _newly correcte_."[572:B]

The reference of Mr. Douce is to page 63 of the edition of 1694, in which occurs a sentence which undoubtedly bears a striking resemblance to the lines of Shakspeare:—"I shall send some of you here present _into such a country, that you shall scarcely ever return again_ to bring tydings of your valour."[572:C]

That our great poet was as well versed in the pages of Valentine and Orson, as have been the school-boys of this country for the last century, is our firm belief. "It would be difficult," says the possessor of Copland's edition, "to find a reader of the present day, who had not in the hour of childhood voted a portion of his scanty stipend to the purchase of 'Valentine and Orson,' and withdrawn for a few hours from more laborious exercises, or amusements, to peruse its fascinating pages;" and equally difficult would it have been, in Shakspeare's days, to have found a person of liberal education, who had not devoted a portion of his leisure to the perusal of this simple but energetic romance.

From the numerous corresponding passages, however, cited by our author's commentators, from the period of Catullus to the seventeenth century, it would seem that the idea, and even the terms in which it has been expressed, may be considered as a kind of common property, and consequently rather a mark of coincidence than imitation.

Of the _Arcadia_ of Sir Philip Sidney, the best _pastoral_ romance, and one of the most popular books of its age, we cannot be surprised that Shakspeare should have been an ardent admirer, and that occasionally he should have been indebted to it for an incident or an image. The first scene of the fourth act, in the _Two Gentlemen of Verona_, in which Valentine accepts the captainship of a band of outlaws, appears to be founded on that part of the Arcadia where Pyrocles, released from prison by the Helots, consents to be their leader and captain.[573:A]

More certainly is the episode of Gloster and his sons, in King Lear, derived from the same work, the first edition of which, published in 1590, being divided into chapters, exhibits one with this title:—"The pitifull state and storie of the Paphlagonian unkinde king, and his kinde sonne: first related by the sonne, then by the blind father." The subsequent editions omit the divisions into chapters, and in the copy before us, which is the seventh impression, the story commences at page 132, being part of the second book. As no other source for this narrative than the _Arcadia_, has hitherto been traced, and as the similarity of incident is considerable, there can be little doubt but that this portion of _King Lear_ must confess its obligation to the romance.

The appellation, also, given to Cupid, in a passage in _Much Ado about Nothing_, is evidently to be referred to a line in the _Arcadia_. Don Pedro, speaking of Benedict, says, "he hath twice or thrice cut Cupid's bow-string, and the little _hangman_ dare not shoot at him."[573:B] It has been conjectured, that the word in Italics should be _hench-man_, a page or attendant; but to decide the question it is only necessary to quote the words of Sidney:—

"Millions of yeares this old drivell Cupid lives;
While still more wretch, more wicked he doth prove:
Till now at length that Jove him office gives,
At Juno's suite, who much did Argus love,
In this our world a _hangman_ for to be
Of all those fooles that will have all they see."[573:C]

If, from this catalogue of allusions, our author's intimacy with the romances of his age, may be considered as proved, his familiarity with the _ballads_ and _songs_ of the same period will not be deemed less extensive, or less admitting of demonstration. Throughout his dramas, indeed, a peculiar partiality for these popular little pieces is very manifest; he delights to quote them, wherever he can find a place for their introduction, and his own efforts in this line of poetry are often of the utmost simplicity and beauty.

How strongly he felt this predilection for the strains of our elder minstrelsy, and how exquisitely he has expressed his attachment to them, must be in the recollection of all who have ever read, or seen performed, his admirable comedy of the _Twelfth Night_, in which the Duke exclaims,—

"Give me some musick:—but that piece of song,
That old and antique song we heard last night,
Methought it did relieve my passion much;
More than light airs and recollected terms,
Of these most brisk and giddy-paced times:—
Mark it, Cæsario; it is old, and plain:
The spinsters and the knitters in the sun,
And the free maids, that weave their thread with bones,
Do use to chaunt it; it is silly sooth,
And dallies with the innocence of love,
Like the old age."[574:A]