Chapter XIII: Appendix: C (4)

P. 311. ‘I am not ignorant how eloquent our gowned age is grown of late; so that euery mechanicall mate abhorres the English he was borne too, and plucks, with a solemne periphrasis, his _vt vales_ from the inkehorne: which I impute, not so much to the perfection of Arts, as to the seruile imitation of vainglorious Tragedians, who contend not so seriously to excell in action, as to embowell the cloudes in a speech of comparison, thinking themselues more than initiated in Poets immortality, if they but once get _Boreas_ by the beard and the heauenly Bull by the deaw-lap. But heerein I cannot so fully bequeath them to folly, as their ideot Art-masters, that intrude themselues to our eares as the Alcumists of eloquence, who (mounted on the stage of arrogance) think to out-braue better pennes with the swelling bumbast of a bragging blanke verse. Indeede it may bee the ingrafted ouerflow of some kil-cow conceit, that ouercloyeth their imagination with a more than drunken resolution, being not extemporall in the inuention of any other meanes to vent their manhoode, commits the disgestion of their cholericke incumbrances to the spacious volubilitie of a drumming decasillabon. Mongst this kind of men that repose eternitie in the mouth of a Player, I can but ingrosse some deep read Grammarians, who, hauing no more learning in their skull than will serue to take vp a commoditie, nor Art in their braine than was nourished in a seruing mans idlenesse, will take vppon them to be the ironicall Censors of all, when God and Poetrie doth know they are the simplest of all. To leaue these to the mercy of their Mother tongue, that feed on nought but the crums that fall from the Translators trencher, I come (sweet friend) to thy _Arcadian Menaphon_, ...’ P. 315. ‘I’le turne backe to my first text of Studies of delight, and talke a little in friendship with a few of our triuiall translators. It is a common practise now a dayes amongst a sort of shifting companions, that runne through euery Art and thriue by none, to leaue the trade of _Nouerint_, whereto they were borne, and busie themselues with the indeuours of Art, that could scarcely Latinize their neck verse if they should haue neede; yet English _Seneca_ read by Candlelight yeelds many good sentences, as _Blood is a begger_, and so forth; and if you intreate him faire in a frostie morning, hee will affoord you whole _Hamlets_, I should say handfuls of Tragicall speeches. But O griefe! _Tempus edax rerum_, whats that will last alwayes? The Sea exhaled by droppes will in continuance bee drie, and _Seneca_, let blood line by line and page by page, at length must needes die to our Stage; which makes his famished followers to imitate the Kidde in _Æsop_, who, enamoured with the Foxes newfangles, forsooke all hopes of life to leape into a newe occupation; and these men, renouncing all possibilities of credite or estimation, to intermeddle with Italian Translations: wherein how poorely they haue plodded, (as those that are neither prouenzall men, nor are able to distinguish of Articles,) let all indifferent Gentlemen that haue trauailed in that tongue discerne by their two-pennie pamphlets: & no maruell though their home borne mediocritie bee such in this matter; for what can bee hoped of those that thrust _Elisium_ into hell, and haue not learned, so long as they haue liued in the Spheres, the iust measure of the Horizon without an hexameter? Sufficeth them to bodge vp a blanke verse with ifs and ands, and otherwhile for recreation after their Candle-stuffe, hauing starched their beards most curiously, to make a Peripateticall path into the inner parts of the Citie, and spend two or three howers in turning ouer French _Doudie_, where they attract more infection in one minute, then they can do eloquence all daies of their life, by conuersing with any Authors of like argument.’ P. 323. ‘There are extant about _London_ many most able men to reuiue Poetry ... as, for example, _Mathew Roydon_, _Thomas Atchelow_, and _George Peele_; the first of whom, as he hath shewed himselfe singular in the immortall Epitaph of his beloued _Astrophell_, besides many other most absolute Comike inuentions (made more publike by euery mans praise, than they can be by my speech), so the second hath more than once or twice manifested his deepe witted schollership in places of credite: and for the last, though not the least of them all, I dare commend him to all that know him, as the chiefe supporter of pleasance now liuing, the _Atlas_ of Poetrie, and _primus verborum Artifex_: whose first increase, the arraignement of _Paris_, might pleade to your opinions his pregnant dexterity of wit, and manifold varietie of inuention; where in (_me iudice_) he goeth a steppe beyond all that write. Sundry other sweete gentlemen I know, that haue vaunted their pennes in priuate deuices, and tricked vp a company of taffata fooles with their feathers, whose beauty if our Poets had not peecte with the supply of their periwigs, they might haue antickt it vntill this time vp and downe the Countrey with the King of _Fairies_, and dined euery day at the pease porredge ordinary with _Delphrigus_. But _Tolossa_ hath forgot that it was sometime sacked, and beggars that euer they carried their fardels on footback: and in truth no meruaile, when as the deserued reputation of one _Roscius_ is of force to enrich a rabble of counterfets; yet let subiects for all their insolence dedicate a _De profundis_ euery morning to the preseruation of their _Caesar_, least their increasing indignities returne them ere long to their iugling to mediocrity, and they bewaile in weeping blankes the wane of their _Monarchie_.’

xliii. 1590. ROBERT GREENE.

[From _Francescos Fortunes: Or, The second part of Greenes Neuer
too Late_ (1590), reprinted in _Works_, viii. 111. For the
Roscius story, cf. No. xii and ch. xi.]

P. 129. A palmer, telling the tale of Francesco, which contains some probably autobiographical matter on the hero’s writing for the stage (cf. ch. xxiii, s.v. Greene), is interrupted by a request for his ‘iudgement of Playes, Playmakers and Players’. After observing that ‘some for being too lauish against that facultie, haue for their satiricall inuectiues been well canuased’, he sketches the growth of comedy at Athens and Rome, where ‘couetousnesse crept into the qualitie’ and ‘the Actors, by continuall vse grewe not onely excellent, but rich and insolent’. This is illustrated (p. 132) by a rebuke of Cicero to Roscius, ‘Why _Roscius_, art thou proud with _Esops_ Crow, being pranct with the glorie of others feathers? of thy selfe thou canst say nothing, and if the Cobler hath taught thee to say Aue Caesar, disdain not thy tutor, because thou pratest in a Kings chamber: what sentence thou vtterest on the stage, flowes from the censure of our wittes, and what sentence or conceipte of the inuention the people applaud for excellent, that comes from the secrets of our knowledge. I graunt your action, though it be a kind of mechanical labour; yet wel done tis worthie of praise: but you worthlesse, if for so small a toy you waxe proud’. _Publius Seruilius_ also bade a player ‘bee not so bragge of thy silken roabes, for I sawe them but yesterday make a great shew in a broakers shop’. The palmer concludes, ‘Thus sir haue you heard my opinion briefly of plaies, that Menander deuised them for the suppressing of vanities, necessarie in a common wealth, as long as they are vsed in their right kind; the play makers worthy of honour for their Arte: & players, men deseruing both prayse and profite, as long as they wax neither couetous nor insolent’.

xliv. 1591. SAMUEL COX.

[This letter of 15 Jan. 1591 to an unknown correspondent,
brother of one Mr. Lewin, occurs with other letters by Cox
in the letter-book of Sir Christopher Hatton (Nicolas,
_Hatton_, xxix), to whom he was secretary.]

Has his letter ‘reprehending me in some sort for my sharpness against the use of plays’. Cites view of Fathers, especially Chrysostom. Regrets present toleration of ‘these dangerous schools of licentious liberty, whereunto more people resort than to sermons or prayers’. Now ‘rich men give more to a player for a song which he shall sing in one hour, than to their faithful servants for serving them a whole year.... I could wish that players would use themselves nowadays, as in ancient former times they have done, which was only to exercise their interludes in the time of Christmas, beginning to play in the holidays and continuing until twelfth tide, or at the furthest until Ashwednesday, of which players I find three sorts of people: the first, such as were in wages with the king and played before him some time at Hallowmass, and then in the later holidays until twelfthtide, and after that, only in Shrovetide; and these men had other trades to live of, and seldom or never played abroad at any other times of the whole year. The second sort were such as pertained to noblemen, and were ordinary servants in their house, and only for Christmas times used such plays, without making profession to be players to go abroad for gain, for in such cases they were subject to the statute against retainers. The third sort were certain artisans in good towns and great parishes, as shoemakers, tailors, and such like, that used to play either in their town-halls, or some time in churches, to make the people merry; where it was lawful for all persons to come without exacting any money for their access, having only somewhat gathered of the richer sort by the churchwardens for their apparel and other necessaries.’

xlv. 1591. SIR JOHN HARINGTON.

[From _A Preface, or rather a Briefe Apologie of Poetrie, and of
the Author and Translator_, prefixed to Harington’s translation
of Ariosto’s _Orlando Furioso_ (1591), reprinted in Gregory
Smith, ii. 194.]

Harington upholds poetry on humanist lines, and answers the objections of Cornelius Agrippa. P. 209. ‘The last reproofe is lightnes & wantonnes.... First, the Tragicall is meerly free from it, as representing onely the cruell and lawlesse proceedings of Princes, mouing nothing but pitie or detestation. The Comicall, whatsoeuer foolish playmakers make it offend in this kind, yet being rightly vsed, it represents them so as to make the vice scorned and not embraced.... And for Tragedies, to omit other famous Tragedies, that that was played at _S. Iohns_ in Cambridge, of _Richard the 3_, would moue (I thinke) _Phalaris_ the tyraunt, and terrifie all tyrannous minded men from following their foolish ambitious humors, seeing how his ambition made him kill his brother, his nephews, his wife, beside infinit others, and, last of all, after a short and troublesome raigne, to end his miserable life, and to haue his body harried after his death. Then, for Comedies, how full of harmeles myrth is our Cambridge _Pedantius_? and the Oxford _Bellum Grammaticale_? or, to speake of a London Comedie, how much good matter, yea and matter of state, is there in that Comedie cald the play of the Cards, in which it is showed how foure Parasiticall knaues robbe the foure principall vocations of the Realme, _videl_, the vocation of Souldiers, Schollers, Marchants, and Husbandmen? Of which Comedie I cannot forget the saying of a notable wise counseller that is now dead, who when some (to sing _Placebo_) aduised that it should be forbidden, because it was somewhat too plaine, and indeed as the old saying is, _sooth boord is no boord_, yet he would haue it allowed, adding it was fit that _They which doe that they should not should heare that they would not_.’

xlvi. 1592. THOMAS NASHE.

[From _Pierce Penilesse his Supplication to the Diuell_ (1592;
S. R. 8 Aug. 1592), reprinted in McKerrow, i. 149.]

[Extracts.] P. 211. ‘There is a certaine waste of the people for whome there is no vse, but warre: and these men must haue some employment still to cut them off.... To this effect, the pollicie of Playes is very necessary, howsoeuer some shallow-braind censurers (not the deepest serchers into the secrets of gouernment) mightily oppugne them. For whereas the after-noone beeing the idlest time of the day; wherein men that are their owne masters (as Gentlemen of the Court, the Innes of the Courte, and the number of Captaines and Souldiers about _London_) do wholy bestow themselues vpon pleasure, and that pleasure they deuide (howe vertuously it skils not) either into gameing, following of harlots, drinking, or seeing a Playe: is it not then better (since of foure extreames all the world cannot keepe them but they will choose one) that they should betake them to the least, which is Playes? Nay, what if I prooue Playes to be no extreame; but a rare exercise of vertue? First, for the subiect of them (for the most part) it is borrowed out of our English Chronicles, wherein our forefathers valiant acts (that haue line long buried in rustie brasse and worme-eaten bookes) are reuiued, and they themselues raised from the Graue of Obliuion, and brought to pleade their aged Honours in open presence: than which, what can be a sharper reproofe to these degenerate effeminate dayes of ours? How would it haue ioyed braue _Talbot_ (the terror of the French) to thinke that after he had lyne two hundred yeares in his Tombe, hee should triumphe againe on the Stage, and haue his bones newe embalmed with the teares of ten thousand spectators at least (at seuerall times) who, in the Tragedian that represents his person, imagine they behold him fresh bleeding? I will defend it against any Collian, or clubfisted Vsurer of them all, there is no immortalitie can be giuen a man on earth like vnto Playes.... All Artes to them are vanitie: and, if you tell them what a glorious thing it is to haue _Henrie_ the fifth represented on the Stage, leading the French King prisoner, and forcing both him and the Dolphin to sweare fealty, I, but (will they say) what do we get by it? Respecting neither the right of Fame that is due to true Nobilitie deceased, nor what hopes of eternitie are to be proposed to aduentrous mindes, to encourage them forward, but onely their execrable luker, and fillthie vnquenchable auarice. They know when they are dead they shall not be brought vpon the Stage for any goodnes, but in a merriment of the Vsurer and the Diuel, or buying Armes of the Herald, who giues them the Lyon, without tongue, tayle, or tallents, because his maister whome hee must serue is a Townesman, and a man of peace, and must not keepe any quarrelling beasts to annoy his honest neighbours. In Playes, all coosonages, all cunning drifts ouer-guylded with outward holinesse, all stratagems of warre, all the cankerwormes that breede on the rust of peace, are most liuely anatomiz’d: they shewe the ill successe of treason, the fall of hastie climbers, the wretched end of vsurpers, the miserie of ciuill dissention, and how iust God is euermore in punishing of murther.... Whereas some Petitioners of the Counsaile against them obiect, they corrupt the youth of the Cittie, and withdrawe Prentises from theyr worke; they heartily wishe they might bee troubled with none of their youth nor their prentises; for some of them (I meane the ruder handicrafts seruants) neuer come abroade, but they are in danger of vndoing: and as for corrupting them when they come, thats false; for no Play they haue, encourageth any man to tumult or rebellion, but layes before such the halter and the gallowes; or praiseth or approoueth pride, lust, whoredome, prodigalitie, or drunkennes, but beates them downe vtterly. As for the hindrance of Trades and Traders of the Citie by them, that is an Article foysted in by the Vintners, Alewiues, and Victuallers, who surmise, if there were no Playes, they should haue all the companie that resort to them, lye bowzing and beere-bathing in their houses euery after-noone.... Our Players are not as the players beyond Sea, a sort of squirting baudie Comedians, that haue whores and common Curtizens to playe womens partes, and forbeare no immodest speech or vnchast action that may procure laughter; but our Sceane is more statelye furnisht than euer it was in the time of _Roscius_, our representations honourable, and full of gallant resolution, not consisting, like theirs, of a Pantaloun, a Whore, and a Zanie, but of Emperours, Kings, and Princes; whose true Tragedies (_Sophocleo cothurno_) they do vaunt. Not _Roscius_ nor _Æsope_, those admyred tragedians that haue liued euer since before Christ was borne, could euer performe more in action than famous _Ned Allen_.... If I euer write any thing in Latine (as I hope one day I shall) not a man of any desert here amongst vs, but I will haue vp. _Tarlton_, _Ned Allen_, _Knell_, _Bentlie_, shall be made knowne to _France_, _Spaine_, and _Italie_: and not a part that they surmounted in, more than other, but I will there note and set downe, with the manner of theyr habites and attyre.’

xlvii. 1592. ROBERT GREENE.

[From _A Quip for an Upstart Courtier: Or, A quaint Dispute
between Velvet Breeches and Cloth Breeches. Wherein is plainely
set downe the disorders in all Estates and Trades_ (_Works_, xi.
205).]

A jury is being empanelled between the disputants, who represent new and old ideals of gentry. P. 289. ‘An ouerworne gentleman attired in veluet and satin’ is followed by ‘two pert Applesquires: the one had a murrey cloth gowne on, faced down before with gray conny, and laid thicke on the sleeves with lace, which he quaintly bare vp to shew his white taffata hose, and black silk stockings: a huge ruffe about his necke wrapt in his great head like a wicker cage, a little Hat with brims like the wings of a doublet, wherein he wore a jewell of glasse, as broad as a chancery seale: after him followed two boies in cloakes like butterflies: carrying one of them his cutting sword of choller, the other his dauncing rapier of delight.’ The ‘ouerworne gentleman’ is a poet, the ‘applesquires’ a player and the usher of a dancing school. Velvet Breeches thinks the poet ‘a proud fellow’, the others ‘plaine, honest, humble men, that for a penny or an old-cast sute of apparell will do anything. Indeed quoth Cloth Breeches you say troth, they are but too humble, for they be so lowly, that they be base minded: I mean not in their lookes or apparell, for so they be peacockes and painted asses, but in their corse of life, for they care not how they get crowns, I meane how basely so they haue them, and yet of the two I hold the Plaier to be the better Christian, although in his owne imagination too full of selfe liking and selfe loue, and is vnfit to be of the Iury though I hide and conceale his faults and fopperies, in that I haue beene merry at his sports: onely this I must say, that such a plaine country fellow as my selfe, they bring in as clownes and fooles to laugh at in their play, whereas they get by vs, and of our almes the proudest of them all doth line. Well, to be breefe, let him trot to the stage, for he shall be none of the Iury.’

xlviii. 1592. ROBERT GREENE.

[From _Greens Groatsworth of Wit_ (1596; S. R. 20 Sept. 1592),
reprinted in Grosart, xii. 131, and C. M. Ingleby, _Shakespere
Allusion-Books_, Part i (1874, _N. S. S._); cf. ch. xxiii, s.v.
Greene.]

‘_Roberto_ ... vttered his present greefe, beseeching his advuise how he might be imployed. Why easily, quoth hee, and greatly to your benefit: for men of my profession get by schollers their whole liuing. What is your profession, sayd _Roberto_? Truely sir, said he, I am a player. A Player, quoth _Roberto_, I tooke you rather for a gentleman of great liuing; for if by outward habit men shuld be censured, I tell you, you would be taken for a substantiall man. So am I where I dwell (quoth the player) reputed able at my proper cost, to build a Windmill. What though the worlde once went hard with mee, when I was faine to carrie my playing Fardle a footebacke; _Tempora mutantur_: I know you know the meaning of it better than I, but I thus conster it, it is otherwise now; for my very share in playing apparrell will not be solde for two hundred pounds. Truely (said _Roberto_) it is strange, that you should so prosper in that vaine practise, for that it seemes to me your voyce is nothing gracious. Nay then, said the player, I mislike your iudgement: why, I am as famous for Delphrigus, and the king of Fairies, as euer was any of my time. The twelue labors of _Hercules_ haue I terribly thundred on the stage, and plaied three scenes of the deuill in the highway to heauen. Haue ye so (said _Roberto_?) then I pray you pardon me. Nay more (quoth the player) I can serue to make a prettie speech, for I was a countrie Author, passing at a morrall, for it was I that pende the Morral of mans wit, the Dialogue of Diues, and for seauen yeeres space was absolute interpreter of the puppets. But now my Almanacke is out of date:

_The people make no estimation,
Of Morrals teaching education._

Was not this prettie for a plaine rime extempore? if ye will, ye shall haue more. Nay it is enough, said _Roberto_, but how meane you to vse mee? Why sir, in making playes, said the other, for which you shall be well paied, if you will take the paines.... Roberto, now famozed for an Arch-plaimaking-poet, his purse like the sea sometime sweld, anon like the same sea fell to a low ebbe; yet seldom he wanted, his labors were so well esteemed. Marry, this rule he kept, what euer he fingerd afore-hand, was the certaine meanes to vnbinde a bargaine; and being asked why he so sleightly dealt with them that did him good? It becomes me, sath hee, to be contrarie to the worlde: for commonly when vulgar men recieue earnest, they doe performe; when I am paid any thing afore-hand, I breake my promise.... _To those Gentlemen, his Quondam acquaintance, that spend their wits in making Plaies, R. G. wisheth a better exercise, and wisdome to preuent his extremities_.... Base minded men al three of you, if by my miserie ye be not warned: for vnto none of you (like me) sought those burres to cleaue: those Puppits (I meane) that speake from our mouths, those Anticks garnisht in our colours. Is it not strange that I, to whom they al haue beene beholding: is it not like that you, to whome they all haue beene beholding, shall (were ye in that case that I am now) be both at once of them forsaken? Yes, trust them not: for there is an vpstart Crow, beautified with our feathers, that with his _Tygers heart wrapt in a Players hide_, supposes he is as well able to bumbast out a blank verse as the best of you: and being an absolute _Iohannes fac totum_, is in his owne conceit the onely Shake-scene in a countrie. O that I might intreate your rare wits to be imployed in more profitable courses: & let these Apes imitate your past excellence, and neuer more acquaint them with your admired inuentions. I know the best husband of you all will neuer proue an Vsurer, and the kindest of them all wil neuer prooue a kinde nurse: yet, whilst you may, seeke you better Maisters; for it is pittie men of such rare wits, should be subiect to the pleasures of such rude groomes. In this I might insert two more, that both haue writ against these buckram Gentlemen: but let their owne works serue to witnesse against their owne wickednesse, if they perseuer to maintaine any more such peasants. For other new commers, I leaue them to the mercie of these painted monsters, who (I doubt not) will driue the best minded to despise them: for the rest, it skils not though they make a ieast at them.’ Cf. ch. xxiii, s.v. Greene.

xlix. 1592. HENRY CHETTLE.

[From _Kind-Harts Dreame. Conteining fiue Apparitions, with
their Inuectiues against abuses raigning. Deliuered by seuerall
Ghosts vnto him to be publisht_ ... by H. C. (N. D.). The tract
was entered in the Stationers’ Register (Arber, ii. 623) on 8
Dec. 1592. The Ghosts are those of Anthony Now Now a fiddler,
William Cuckoe a juggler, Doctor Burcot a physician, Robert
Greene, and Richard Tarlton. Greene died in Sept. 1592. The
Epistle is signed by Henry Chettle (cf. ch. xxiii). The whole is
reprinted by C. M. Ingleby in Part I (1874) of the _Shakspere
Allusion-Books_ of the New Shakspere Society.]

P. 37. _To the Gentlemen Readers._ ‘About three moneths since died M. _Robert Greene_, leauing many papers in sundry Booke sellers hands, among other his Groatsworth of wit, in which a letter written to diuers playmakers, is offensiuely by one or two of them taken; and because on the dead they cannot be auenged, they wilfully forge in their conceites a liuing Author: and after tossing it two and fro, no remedy, but it must light on me. How I haue all the time of my conuersing in printing hindered the bitter inueying against schollers, it hath been very well knowne; and how in that I dealt, I can sufficiently prooue. With neither of them that take offence was I acquainted, and with one of them I care not if I neuer be: The other, whome at that time I did not so much spare, as since I wish I had, for that as I haue moderated the heate of liuing writers, and might haue vsde my owne discretion (especially in such a case) the Author beeing dead, that I did not, I am as sory as if the originall fault had beene my fault, because my selfe haue seene his demeanor no lesse ciuill, than he exelent in the qualitie he professes: Besides, diuers of worship haue reported his vprightnes of dealing, which argues his honesty, and his facetious grace in writting, that aprooues his Art. For the first, whose learning I reuerence, and at the perusing of _Greenes_ Booke, stroke out what then in conscience I thought he in some displeasure writ: or had it beene true, yet to publish it, was intollerable: him I would wish to vse me no worse than I deserue. I had onely in the copy this share: it was il written, as sometime _Greenes_ hand was none of the best; licensd it must be, ere it could bee printed, which could neuer be if it might not be read. To be breife, I writ it ouer; and as neare as I could, followed the copy; onely in that letter I put something out, but in the whole booke not a worde in; for I protest it was all _Greenes_, not mine nor Maister _Nashes_, as some vniustly haue affirmed.’ _Henrie Chettle_.... _The Dreame_. P. 43. ‘There entered at once fiue personages.... The next, by his sute of russet, his buttond cap, his taber, his standing on the toe, and other tricks, I knew to be either the body or resemblaunce of Tarlton, who liuing, for his pleasant conceits was of all men liked, and dying, for mirth left not his like.... With him was the fifth, a man of indifferent yeares, of face amible, of body well proportioned, his attire after the habite of a schollerlike Gentleman, onely his haire was somewhat long, whome I supposed to be Robert Greene, maister of Artes: of whome (howe euer some suppose themselues iniured) I haue learned to speake, considering he is dead, _nill nisi necessarium_. He was of singuler pleasaunce the verye supporter, and, to no man’s disgrace bee this intended, the only Comedian of a vulgar writer in this country.’ P. 63. _To all maligners of honest mirth_, Tarleton _wisheth continuall melancholy_. ‘Now Maisters, what say you to a merrie knaue, that for this two years day hath not beene talkt of. Wil you giue him leaue, if he can, to make ye laugh? What, all a mort? No merry countenance? Nay then I see hypocrisie hath the vpper hand, and her spirit raignes in this profitable generation. Sith it is thus, Ile be a time-pleaser. Fie vppon following plaies, the expence is wondrous; vpon players speeches, their wordes are full of wyles; vppon their gestures, that are altogether wanton. Is it not lamentable, that a man should spende his two pence on them in an after-noone, heare couetousnes amongst them daily quipt at, being one of the commonest occupations in the countrey; and in liuely gesture see trecherie set out, with which euery man now adaies vseth to intrap his brother. Byr lady, this would be lookt into: if these be the fruites of playing, tis time the practisers were expeld. Expeld (quoth you); that hath been pretily performd, to the no smal profit of the Bouling-allyes in Bedlam and other places, that were wont in the after-noones to be left empty, by the recourse of good fellows vnto that vnprofitable recreation of Stage-playing. And it were not much amisse, would they ioine with the Dicing houses to make sute againe for their longer restraint, though the sicknesse cease. Is not this well saide (my maisters) of an olde buttond cappe, that hath most part of his life liu’d vppon that against which he inueighs: Yes, and worthily.’ Suppression of plays to the advantage of bawdy-houses, especially those not near Shoreditch. Discourse with a pander. P. 65. ‘And you, sir, find fault with plaies. Out vpon them, they spoile our trade, as you your selfe haue proued. Beside, they open our crosse-biting, our conny-catching, our traines, our traps, our gins, our snares, our subtilties: for no sooner haue we a tricke of deceipt, but they make it common, singing Iigs, and making ieasts of vs, that euerie boy can point out our houses as they passe by. Whither now _Tarlton_? this is extempore, out of time, tune, and temper.... Thy selfe once a Player, and against Players: nay, turne out the right side of thy russet coate, and lette the world know thy meaning. Why thus I meane, for now I speake in sobernes. Euery thing hath in it selfe his vertue and his vice: from one selfe flower the Bee and Spider sucke honny and poyson. In plaies it fares as in bookes, vice cannot be reproued, except it be discouered: neither is it in any play discouered, but there followes in the same an example of the punishment: now he that at a play will be delighted in the one, and not warned by the other, is like him that reads in a booke the description of sinne, and will not looke ouer the leafe for the reward. Mirth in seasonable time taken, is not forbidden by the austerest Sapients. But indeede there is a time of mirth and a time of mourning. Which time hauing been by the Magistrats wisely obserued, as well for the suppressing of Playes, as other pleasures: so likewise a time may come, when honest recreation shall haue his former libertie. And lette _Tarleton_ intreate the yoong people of the Cittie, either to abstaine altogether from playes, or at their comming thither to vse themselues after a more quiet order. In a place so ciuill as this Cittie is esteemed, it is more than barbarously rude, to see the shamefull disorder and routes that sometimes in such publike meetings are vsed. The beginners are neither gentlemen, nor citizens, nor any of both their seruants, but some lewd mates that long for innouation; & when they see aduantage, that either Seruingmen or Apprentises are most in number, they will be of either side, though indeed they are of no side, but men beside all honestie, willing to make boote of cloakes, hats, purses, or what euer they can lay holde on in a hurley burley. These are the common causers of discord in publike places. If otherwise it happen (as it seldome doth) that any quarrell be betweene man and man, it is far from manhood to make so publike a place their field to fight in: no men will doe it, but cowardes that would faine be parted, or haue hope to haue many partakers. Nowe to you that maligne our moderate merriments, and thinke there is no felicitie but in excessiue possession of wealth: with you I would ende in a song, yea an Extempore song on this Theame, _Ne quid nimis necessarium_: but I am now hoarse, and troubled with my Taber and Pipe: beside, what pleasure brings musicke to the miserable. Therefore letting songes passe, I tell them in sadnes, how euer Playes are not altogether to be commended: yet some of them do more hurt in a day, than all the Players (by exercizing theyr profession) in an age. Faults there are in the professors as other men, this the greatest, that diuers of them beeing publike in euerie ones eye, and talkt of in euery vulgar mans mouth, see not how they are seene into, especially for their contempt, which makes them among most men most contemptible. Of them I will say no more: of the profession, so much hath _Pierce Pennilesse_ (as I heare say) spoken, that for mee there is not any thing to speake. So wishing the chearefull, pleasaunce endlesse; and the wilfull sullen, sorrow till they surfet; with a turne on the toe I take my leaue. _Richard Tarleton._’

l. 1592–9. JOHN RAINOLDS V. WILLIAM GAGER AND ALBERICO GENTILI.

[A controversy arising out of criticism by Rainolds on the
legitimacy of academic drama is contained in (_a_) Gager’s
_Momus_ and _Epilogus Responsiuus_, written _c._ Jan. 1592,
spoken 8 Feb., printed with additional matter _c._ May (cf. ch.
xxiii, s.v. Gager, _Ulysses Redux_; (_b_) Rainolds to Thomas
Thornton, 6 Feb. 1592; (_c_) Rainolds to Gager, 10 July 1592;
(_d_) Gager to Rainolds, 31 July 1592; (_e_) Rainolds to Gager,
30 May 1593; (_f_) Gentili, _Commentatio de Professoribus et
Medicis_, printed with _Ad Titulum de Maleficis et Mathematicis
Commentarius_ (1593, with epistle of 26 June 1593; 1604); (_g_)
Gentili to Rainolds, 7 July 1593; (_h_) Rainolds to Gentili,
10 July 1593; (_i_) Gentili to Rainolds, 14 July 1593; (_k_)
Rainolds to Gentili, 5 Aug. 1593; (_l_) two further letters by
Gentili and two by Rainolds, who ends the correspondence on
12 Mar. 1594; (_m_) Gentili, _De Actoribus et Spectatoribus
Fabularum non Notandis Disputatio_ (1599, with epistle of 14
Oct. 1597; reprinted in Gronovius, _Thesaurus Antiquitatum_,
viii); (_n_) _Th’ Overthrow of Stage-Players_ (1599, no
imprint, with epistle from Printer to Reader; 1600; 1629). This
is a print of (_c_), (_e_), (_g_), (_h_), (_i_), (_k_). All
the twelve letters are in _Oxon. C.C.C. MS._ 352 and some in
_Queen’s Coll. MS._ 359; a collection in _Univ. Coll. MS._ 157
is lost, but probably added no more. Rainolds is satirized in
the Queen’s College, Cambridge, play of _Fucus Histriomastix_
(_1623_, ed. G. C. Moore Smith, 1909), probably by Robert Ward.]

The academic controversy is fully summarized by F. S. Boas in _Fortnightly Review_ for August 1907 and _University Drama in the Tudor Age_ (1914), 229, together with the analysis of Gager’s defence by K. Young in _An Elizabethan Defence of the Stage_ (1916, _Wisconsin Shakespeare Studies_, 103). I only quote the reference in the Epistle to _Th’ Overthrow_ of 1599 to ‘Men ... that haue not been afraied of late dayes to bring vpon the Stage the very sober countenances, graue attire, modest and matronelike gestures, and speaches of men & women to be laughed at as a scorne and reproch to the world’.

li. 1597 (?). JOHN HARINGTON.

[From _A Treatise on Playe_, printed in _Nugae_, i. 191. I
retain Park’s date of ‘circa 1597’, although I doubt whether
it is based on anything but a conjecture that ‘this deere
yeer’ (204) may be 1595 or 1597, and the latest definite event
referred to is the death of Hatton on 20 Nov. 1591. The treatise
deals mainly with gambling.]

One sayd merely that ‘enterludes weare the divells sarmons, and jesters the divells confessors; thease for the most part disgracing of vertue, and those not a little gracinge of vices’. But, for my part, I commend not such sowere censurers, but I thinke in stage-playes may bee much good, in well-penned comedies, and specially tragedies; and I remember, in Cambridge, howsoever the presyser sort have banisht them, the wyser sort did, and still doe mayntayn them.

lii. 1598. FRANCIS MERES.

[From _Palladis Tamia: Wit’s Treasury_ (S. R. 7 Sept. 1598).
The general attitude of the treatise is humanist, but it is
only of value for the incidental notices and appreciations
of contemporary writers given in a rather fantastic series
of parallels between classical and Elizabethan literature.
Fuller extracts, including some personalia on Shakespeare and
other playwrights, not reprinted here, are in C. M. Ingleby,
_Shakspere Allusion-Books_, Part I (1874, _N. S. S._), 151, and
Gregory Smith, ii. 308.]

Our famous and learned Lawreat masters of England would entitle our English to far greater admired excellency if either the Emperor Augustus, or Octauia his sister, or noble Mecaenas were aliue to rewarde and countenaunce them; or if our witty Comedians and stately Tragedians (the glorious and goodlie representers of all fine witte, glorified phrase, and queint action) bee still supported and vphelde, by which meanes for lacke of Patrones (O ingratefull and damned age) our Poets are soly or chiefly maintained, countenaunced, and patronized....

... A COMPARATIUE DISCOURSE OF OUR ENGLISH POETS WITH THE GREEKE, LATINE, AND ITALIAN POETS....

... As Plautus and Seneca are accounted the best for Comedy and Tragedy among the Latines: so Shakespeare among the English is the most excellent in both kinds for the stage. For Comedy, witnes his _Gentlemen of Verona_, his _Errors_, his _Loue Labors Lost_, his _Loue Labours Wonne_, his _Midsummers Night Dreame_, and his _Merchant of Venice_; For Tragedy, his _Richard the 2_, _Richard the 3_, _Henry the 4_, _King Iohn_, _Titus Andronicus_, and his _Romeo and Iuliet_....

... These are our best for Tragedie, The Lorde Buckhurst, Doctor Leg of Cambridge, Doctor Edes of Oxford, Master Edward Ferris, the author of the _Mirror for Magistrates_, Marlow, Peele, Watson, Kid, Shakespeare, Drayton, Chapman, Decker, and Beniamin Iohnson.

As M. Anneus Lucanus writ two excellent tragedies, one called _Medea_, the other _De incendio Troiae cum Priami calamitate_: so Doctor Leg hath penned two famous tragedies, the one of _Richard the 3_, the other of _The Destruction of Ierusalem_....

... The best for Comedy amongst vs bee Edward, Earle of Oxforde, Doctor Gager of Oxforde, Master Rowley, once a rare scholler of learned Pembrooke Hall in Cambridge, Maister Edwardes, one of Her Maiesties Chappell, eloquent and wittie Iohn Lilly, Lodge, Gascoyne, Greene, Shakespeare, Thomas Nash, Thomas Heywood, Anthony Mundye, our best plotter, Chapman, Porter, Wilson, Hathway, and Henry Chettle....

As Georgius Buchananus’ _Iepthae_ amongst all moderne Tragedies is able to abide the touch of Aristotle’s precepts and Euripedes’s examples: so is Bishop Watson’s _Absalon_. As ... Watson for his _Antigone_ out of Sophocles, ha[s] got good commendations: so these versifiers for their learned translations are of good note among vs ... the Translators of Seneca’s _Tragedies_, ... As Antipater Sidonius was famous for extemporall verse in Greeke, and Ouid for his _Quicquid conabar dicere versus erat_: so was our Tarleton, of whome Doctor Case, that learned physitian, thus speaketh in the Seuenth Booke and seuenteenth chapter of his _Politikes: Aristoteles suum Theodoretum laudauit quendam peritum Tragœdiarum actorem, Cicero suum Roscium: nos Angli Tarletonum, in cuius voce et vultu omnes iocosi affectus, in cuius cerebroso capite lepidae facetiae habitant_. And so is now our wittie Wilson, who for learning and extemporall witte in this facultie is without compare or compeere, as, to his great and eternall commendations, he manifested in his challenge at the _Swanne_ on the Banke Side.

liii. 1603. HENRY CROSSE.

[From _Vertues Commonwealth: Or The Highway to Honour_,
reprinted in A. B. Grosart, _Occasional Issues_, vii (1878),
111.]

Must the holy Prophets and Patriarkes be set vpon a Stage, to be derided, hist, and laught at? or is it fit that the infirmities of holy men should be acted on a Stage, whereby others may be inharted to rush carelessly forward into vnbrideled libertie?... Furthermore, there is no passion wherwith the king, the soueraigne maiestie of the Realme was possest, but is amplified, and openly sported with, and made a May-game to all the beholders.... If a man will learne to be proud, fantasticke, humorous, to make love, sweare, swagger, and in a word closely doo any villanie, for a twopenny almes hee may be throughly taught and made a perfect good scholler.... And as these copper-lace gentlemen growe rich, purchase lands by adulterous Playes, & not fewe of them vsurers and extortioners, which they exhaust out of the purses of their haunters, so are they puft vp in such pride and selfe-loue, as they enuie their equalles, and scorne theyr inferiours.... But especially these nocturnall and night Playes, at vnseasonable and vndue times, more greater euils must necessarily proceed of them, because they do not onely hide and couer the thiefe, but also entice seruants out of their maisters houses, wherby opportunitie is offered to loose fellowes, to effect many wicked stratagems.... To conclude, it were further to be wished, that those admired wittes of this age, Tragædians, and Comædians, that garnish Theaters with their inuentions, would spend their wittes in more profitable studies, and leaue off to maintaine those Anticks, and Puppets, that speake out of their mouthes: for it is pittie such noble giftes, should be so basely imployed, as to prostitute their ingenious labours to inriche such buckorome gentlemen.

liv. 1604–5 (?). BEN JONSON.

[Prologue to _Every Man In His Humour_, first printed in Folio
of 1616, and possibly written for a Jacobean revival.]

Though neede make many _Poets_, and some such
As art, and nature haue not betterd much;
Yet ours, for want, hath not so lou’d the stage,
As he dare serue th’ill customes of the age:
Or purchase your delight at such a rate,
As, for it, he himselfe must iustly hate.
To make a child, now swadled, to proceede
Man, and then shoote vp, in one beard, and weede,
Past threescore yeeres: or, with three rustie swords,
And helpe of some few foot-and-halfe-foote words,
Fight ouer _Yorke_, and _Lancasters_ long iarres:
And in the tyring-house bring wounds, to scarres.
He rather prayes, you will be pleas’d to see
One such, to day, as other playes should be.
Where neither _Chorus_ wafts you ore the seas;
Nor creaking throne comes downe, the boyes to please;
Nor nimble squibbe is seene, to make afear’d
The gentlewomen; nor roul’d bullet heard
To say, it thunders; nor tempestuous drumme
Rumbles, to tell you when the storme doth come;
But deedes, and language, such as men doe vse:
And persons, such as _Comœdie_ would chuse,
When she would shew an Image of the times,
And sport with humane follies, not with crimes.
Except, we make ‘hem such, by louing still
Our popular errors, when we know th’are ill.
I meane such errors as you’ll all confesse
By laughing at them, they deserue no lesse:
Which when you heartily doe, there’s hope left, then,
You, that haue so grac’d monsters, may like men.

lv. 1607. BEN JONSON.

[From Epistle to _Volpone_ (cf. ch. xxiii).]

Hence is it, that I now render my selfe gratefull, and am studious to iustifie the bounty of your act: To which, though your mere authority were satisfying, yet it being an age wherein _Poëtry_ and the Professors of it heare so ill on all sides, there will a reason bee look’d for in the subject. It is certaine, nor can it with any forehead be oppos’d, that the too-much licence of _Poëtasters_ in this time hath much deform’d their _Mistresse_; that euery day their manifold and manifest ignorance doth stick vnnaturall reproches vpon her. But for their petulancy, it were an act of the greatest iniustice, either to let the learned suffer, or so diuine a _skill_ (which indeed should not be attempted with vncleane hands) to fall vnder the least contempt. For if men will impartially, and not à-squint, looke toward the offices and function of a _Poët_, they will easily conclude to themselues the impossibility of any mans being the good _Poët_, without first being a good _Man_. He that is sayd to be able to informe _yong-men_ to all good disciplines, inflame _growne-men_ to all great vertues, keepe _old men_ in their best and supreme state, or as they decline to child-hood, recouer them to their first strength; that comes forth the Interpreter and Arbiter of _Nature_, a Teacher of things diuine no lesse than humane, a Master in manners; and can alone, or with a few, effect the busines of Mankind. This, I take him, is no subject for _Pride_ and _Ignorance_ to exercise their railing _rhetorique_ vpon. But it will here be hastily answer’d, that the _Writers_ of these dayes are other things; that not onely their manners, but their natures, are inuerted, and nothing remaining with them of the dignity of _Poët_, but the abused name, which euery Scribe vsurpes; that now, especially in _Dramatick_, or (as they terme it) Stage-_Poëtry_, nothing but Ribaldry, Profanation, Blasphemy, al Licence of offence to God, and Man, is practisd. I dare not deny a great part of this, and am sory I dare not: because in some mens abortiue _Features_ (and would they had neuer boasted the light) it is ouer-true. But that all are embarqu’d in this bold aduenture for Hell, is a most vncharitable thought, and vtterd, a more malicious slander. For my particular, I can, and from a most cleare conscience, affirme, that I haue euer trembled to thinke toward the least Prophanenesse; haue loathed the vse of such foule and vn-washd Baudr’y, as is now made the foode of the _Scene_.

lvi. 1608. WILLIAM CRASHAW.

[From _The Sermon preached at the Crosse, Feb. xiiij. 1607_
(1608, 2nd ed. 1609). Crashaw was preacher at the Inner Temple
and father of Richard Crashaw, the poet. The hypocrites,
Nicholas Saint-Tantlings and Simon Saint-Mary-Oueries, are
characters in _The Puritan_ (1607). John Selden says in his
_Table Talk_ (1689; ed. Reynolds, 134), ‘I never converted
but two, the one was Mr. Crashaw from writing against plays, by
telling him a way how to understand that place, of putting on
woman’s apparel, which has nothing to do with the business’; cf.
_infra_, s.v. Selden (1616).]

P. 169. ‘Now there are also besides these two great Babels, certaine other little pettie Babylons, namely, incurable sinnes amongst vs, ...’ P. 170. ‘2. The vngodly Playes and Enterludes so rife in this nation: what are they but a bastard of Babylon, a daughter of error and confusion, a hellish deuice (the diuels owne recreation to mock at holy things) by him deliuered to the Heathen, from them to the Papists, and from them to vs? Of this euill and plague, the Church of God in all ages can say, truly and with a good conscience, _wee would haue healed her_. [Quotes Tertullian and others.] ... All this they are daily made to know, but all in vaine, they be children of Babylon that will not bee healed: nay, they grow worse and worse, for now they bring religion and holy things vpon the stage: no maruel though the worthiest and mightiest men escape not, when God himselfe is so abused. Two hypocrites must be brought foorth; and how shall they be described but by these names, _Nicolas S. Antlings_, _Simon S. Maryoueries_. Thus hypocrisie a child of hell must beare the names of two Churches of God, and two wherein Gods name is called on publikely euery day in the yeere, and in one of them his blessed word preached euerie day (an example scarce matchable in the world): yet these two, wherin Gods name is thus glorified, and our Church and State honoured, shall bee by these miscreants thus dishonoured, and that not on the stage only, but euen in print.’ Complains of profaneness, atheism, blasphemy, and profaning of Sabbath ‘which generally in the countrie is their play day’. Calls on magistrate, lest God take the matter into his own hand.

lvii. 1608 (?). THOMAS HEYWOOD.

[From _An Apology for Actors. Containing three briefe Treatises.
1. Their Antiquity. 2. Their ancient Dignity. 3. The True Use of
their Quality_ (1612), reprinted by William Cartwright as _The
Actor’s Vindication_ (N.D., but according to Douce 1658) and in
1841 (_Sh. Soc._). I think the treatise was probably written in
1607 and touched up in 1608, since (_a_) the series of actors
named as dead ends with Sly, who died in Aug. 1608; (_b_) the
Revels Office is located at St. John’s, which it lost about
Feb. 1608; (_c_) the frustrated Spanish landing in ‘Perin’ in
Cornwall ‘some 12 yeares ago’ is probably the abortive Spanish
attempt to burn Pendennis Castle on Falmouth Harbour, 3 miles
from Penrhyn, which appears from _S. P. D. Eliz._ cclvi, 21,
40, and Dasent, xxv. 15, to have taken place in the autumn of
1595, probably in connexion with the better-known landing of
22 July 1595 in Mount’s Bay. Here there is a Perranuthnoe, but
this was a successful landing, resulting in serious damage to
Penzance, Mousehole, and Newlyn (_Procl._ 879). There was also
a raid at Cawsand Bay near Plymouth on 14 Mar. 1596 (_S. P.
D. Eliz._ cclvi. 89), in which the invaders fired some houses
and boats, and fled to sea on a shot being fired. But there
is no ‘Perin’ in Cawsand Bay. In _Journal of the Folk-Song
Society_, v. 275, is recorded a tradition that ‘the French once
landed invading troops at Padstow Bay; but on seeing a number
of mummers in red cloaks with their hobby-horse they supposed
that the English army was at hand, and fled’. This raid was at
St. Eval, 3 miles west of Padstow, on 13 July 1595 (_Hatfield
MSS._ v. 285), and no doubt formed part of the same expedition
which reached Mount’s Bay. Of course it was Spanish, not French;
the perversion is characteristic of tradition. Conceivably
this episode was what Heywood had in mind, but the nearest
‘Perin’, Perranporth, is some dozen miles farther west than St.
Evall. Heywood was answered by I. G. in _A Refutation of the
Apology for Actors_ (1615), which contributes nothing new, and
uses material from Gosson’s _Plays Confuted_ (No. xxx), with
references to the long-destroyed Theatre unchanged.]