CHAPTER VIII

JOHN FLORIO AS SIR JOHN FALSTAFF'S ORIGINAL

Probably the most remarkable and interesting æsthetic study of a single

Shakespearean character ever produced is Maurice Morgann's _Essay on the

Dramatic Character of Sir John Falstaff_, which was written in 1774, and

first published in 1777. This excellent piece of criticism deserves a

much wider cognizance than it has ever attained; only three editions

have since been issued.

Morgann's _Essay_ was originally undertaken in jest, in order to

disprove the assertion made by an acquaintance that Falstaff was a

coward; but, inspired by his subject, it was continued and finished in

splendid earnest. As his analysis of the character of Falstaff becomes

more intimate his wonder grows at the concrete human personality he

apprehends. Falstaff ceases to be a fictive creation, or the mere

dramatic representation of a type, and takes on a distinctive

individuality. He writes:

"The reader will not now be surprised if I affirm that those

characters in Shakespeare, which are seen only in part, are yet

capable of being unfolded and understood in the whole; every part

being in fact relative, and inferring all the rest. It is true that

the point of action or sentiment, which we are most concerned in, is

always held out for our special notice. But who does not perceive

that there is a peculiarity about it, which conveys a relish of the

whole? And very frequently, when no particular point presses, he

boldly makes a character act and speak from those parts of the

composition, which are inferred only, and not distinctly shewn. This

produces a wonderful effect; it seems to carry us beyond the poet to

nature itself, and give an integrity and truth to facts and

character, which they would not otherwise obtain. And this is in

reality that art in Shakespeare, which being withdrawn from our

notice, we more emphatically call nature. A felt propriety and truth

from causes unseen, I take to be the highest point of Poetic

composition. If the characters of Shakespeare are thus whole, and as

it were original, while those of almost all other writers are mere

imitation, it may be fit to consider them rather as Historic than

Dramatic beings; and, when occasion requires, to account for their

conduct from the whole of character, from general principles, from

latent motives, and from policies not avowed."

Morgann was closer to the secret of Shakespeare's art than he realised;

he had really penetrated to the truth without knowing it. The reason

that his fine analytical sense had led him to feel that "it may be fit

to consider them rather as Historic than Dramatic beings" is the fact

that in practically every instance where a very distinctive

Shakespearean character, such as Falconbridge, Falstaff, Armado,

Malvolio, and Fluellen, acts and speaks "from those parts of the

composition, which are inferred only, and not distinctly shewn," the

characters so apprehended may be shown by the light of contemporary

social, literary, or political records to have been, in some measure, a

reflection of a living model. Shakespeare had literally, in his own

phrase, held "the mirror up to nature"; the reflection, however, being

heightened and vivified by the infusion of his own rare sensibility, and

the power of his dramatic genius.

With all his genius Shakespeare was yet mortal, and human creativeness

cannot transcend nature. What we call creativeness, even in the greatest

artists, is but a fineness of sensibility and cognition, or rather

recognition, coupled with the power to express what they see and feel in

nature.

As a large number of Shakespeare's plays were written primarily for

private or Court presentation, to edify or amuse his patron and his

patron's friends, or with their immediate political or factional

interests in mind to influence the Court in their favour, the shadowed

purposes of such plays, the acting or speaking of a character "from

those parts of the composition, which are inferred only, and not

distinctly shewn," as well as a number of hitherto supposedly

inexplicable asides and allusions, such as Bottom's "reason and love

keep little company together nowadays; the more the pity, that some

honest neighbours will not make them friends," would give to those

acquaintances who were in Shakespeare's confidence an added zest and

interest in such plays quite lacking to the uninitiated, or to a modern

audience.

I propose in this chapter to demonstrate the facts that John Florio--the

translator of _Montaigne's Essays_ and tutor of languages to

Shakespeare's patron, the Earl of Southampton--was Shakespeare's

original for Sir John Falstaff and other of his characters; that the

Earl of Southampton and Lady Southampton were cognizant of the shadowed

identity, and that Florio himself recognised and angrily resented the

characterisation when a knowledge of its personal application had spread

among their mutual acquaintances.

In preceding chapters and in former books[29] I have advanced evidence

of a cumulative nature for Southampton's identity as the patron

addressed in the Sonnets; the identity of Chapman as the "rival poet,"

and Shakespeare's caricature of him as Holofernes; the identity of

Matthew Roydon as the author of _Willobie his Avisa_, as well as

Shakespeare's caricature of him as the curate Nathaniel; and the

identity of Mistress Davenant as the "dark lady" of the Sonnets. If,

then, we find in the same plays in which these personal reflections are

shown a certain distinctly marked type of character, bearing stronger

_prima facie_ evidence than the others of having been developed from a

living original, may we not reasonably infer that the individual so

represented might also have been linked in life in some manner

approximating to his relations in the play, with the lives and interests

of the other persons shadowed forth?

With this idea in mind I have searched all available records relating to

Southampton, in the hope of finding among his intimates an individual

whose personality may have suggested Shakespeare's characterisation, or

caricature, set forth in the successive persons of Armado, Parolles, and

Sir John Falstaff. The traceable incidents of John Florio's life, his

long and intimate association with Shakespeare's patron, and reasonable

inferences for the periods where actual record of him is wanting, gave

probability, in my judgment, to his identity as Shakespeare's original

for these and other characters. A further consideration of the man's

personality, temperament, and mental habitude, as I could dimly trace

them in his few literary remains that afford scope for unconscious

self-revelation, left no doubt in my mind as to his identity as

Shakespeare's model.

Supposing it to be impossible, with our present records, to visualise

Shakespeare more definitely in his contemporary environment, it has been

common with biographers, in their endeavours to link him with the men of

his times, to draw imaginative pictures of his intimate and friendly

personal relations with such men as Sir Walter Raleigh, Bacon, Chapman,

Marston, and others, equally improbable, forgetting the social

distinctions, the scholastic prejudices, and still more, the religious

or political animosities that divided men in public life in those days,

as they do, though in a lesser degree, to-day. The intimate relations of

the Earl of Southampton with Lord Burghley, during the earliest period

of his Court life, when he was affianced to Burghley's granddaughter,

and his later intimacy with the Earl of Essex and with the gentlemen of

the Essex faction, coupled with Shakespeare's sympathy with the cause of

his patron and his patron's friends, must be borne in mind in any

endeavour that is made to trace in the plays either Shakespeare's

political leanings or his probable affiliations with, or antagonisms to,

his early contemporaries. The natural jealousies that would arise

between the followers, dependants, or protégés of a liberal patron must

also be considered.

John Florio became connected, in the capacity of Italian tutor, with the

Earl of Southampton late in the year 1590, or early in 1591, shortly

after his coming to Court, and a little before Southampton first began

to show favour to Shakespeare. We have Florio's own statement for the

fact that he continued in Southampton's "pay and patronage" at least as

late as 1598, in which year he published his _Worlde of Wordes_. Whether

or not he continued in Southampton's service after this date is

uncertain, but we may safely impute to that nobleman's good offices the

favour shown to him by James I. and his Queen in 1604, and later.

From the first time that Shakespeare and Florio were thrown together,

through their mutual connection with Southampton, in or about 1591, down

to the year 1609, when the Sonnets were issued at the instigation of

Shakespeare's literary rivals, I find intermittent traces of antagonism

between them, and also of Florio's intimacy and sympathy with Chapman

and his friends. In later years, Chapman, Jonson, and Marston, however,

seem to have recognised in Florio an unstable ally, and tacitly to have

regarded him as a selfish and shifty opportunist. Florio appears to have

used his intimacy with Southampton, and his knowledge of that nobleman's

relations with Shakespeare and the "dark lady" in 1593 to 1594, to the

poet's disadvantage, by imparting intelligence of the affair to Chapman

and Roydon, the latter of whom exploited this knowledge in the

production of _Willobie his Avisa_.

In Chapman's dedication to Roydon of _The Shadow of Night_ in 1594, he

shows knowledge of the fact that Shakespeare was practically reader to

the Earl of Southampton, and that he passed his judgment upon literary

matter submitted to that nobleman. Referring to Shakespeare, Chapman

writes: "How then may a man stay his marvailing to see passion-driven

men, reading but to curtail a tedious hour, and altogether hidebound

with affection to great men's fancies, take upon them as killing

censures as if they were judgment's butchers, or as if the life of truth

lay tottering in their verdicts." This reference to Shakespeare as

"passion-driven" refers to the affair of the "dark lady," upon which

Chapman's friend, Roydon, was then at work in _Willobie his Avisa_.

Florio, in later years, as shall appear, also makes a very distinct

point at Shakespeare as a "reader." Unless there was an enemy in

Shakespeare's camp to report to Chapman and Roydon the fact of his

"reading" to curtail tedious hours for his patron, and to convey

intelligence to Roydon of Shakespeare's and Southampton's relations with

the "dark lady," either by reporting the affair or by bringing

Shakespeare's earlier MS. _books_ of sonnets to his notice, it is

improbable that these men would have had such intimate knowledge of the

incidents and conditions of this stage of Shakespeare's friendship with

his patron. Florio probably fostered the hostility of these scholars to

Shakespeare by imputing to his influence their ill-success in winning

Southampton's favour. It is not improbable that for his own protection

he secretly used his influence with Southampton in defeating their

advances while posing as their friend and champion. Shakespeare

distrusted Florio from the beginning of his acquaintance, and deprecated

his influence upon his patron.

In the earlier stages of Shakespeare's observation of Florio he appears

to have been more amused than angered, but as the years pass his dislike

grows, as he sees more clearly into the cold selfishness of a character,

obscured to his earlier and more casual view by the interesting

personality and frank and humorous worldly wisdom of the man. However

heightened and amplified by Shakespeare's imagination the

characterisation of Falstaff may now appear, a consideration of the

actual character of Florio, as we find it revealed between the lines of

his own literary productions, and in the few contemporary records of him

that have survived, suggests on Shakespeare's part portrayal rather than

caricature.

Assuming for the present that Shakespeare has characterised, or

caricatured, Florio as Parolles, Armado, and Falstaff, the first and

second of these characters are represented in plays originally produced

in, or about, 1592, but reflecting the spirit and incidents of the

Cowdray and Tichfield progress of the autumn of 1591. While these plays

were altered at a later period, or periods, of revision, it is apparent

that both characters pertain in a large measure to the plays in their

earlier forms. If Shakespeare used Florio as his model for these

characters, we have added evidence that by the autumn of 1591 Florio had

already entered the "pay and patronage" of Southampton, who about this

period, under his tuition and in anticipation of continental travel,

developed his knowledge of Italian and French. In his dedication of the

_Worlde of Wordes_ to Southampton in 1598, Florio writes:

"In truth I acknowledge an entire debt, not only of my best

knowledge, but of all, yea of more than I know or can, to your

bounteous Lordship, most noble, most virtuous, and most Honourable

Earl of Southampton, in whose pay and patronage I have lived some

years, to whom I owe and vow the years I have to live."

Further on in this dedication he refers to Southampton's study of

Italian under his tuition as follows:

"I might make doubt least I or mine be not now of any further use to

your self-sufficiencie, being at home so instructed in Italian as

teaching or learning could supply that there seemed no need of

travell, and now by travell so accomplished as what wants to

perfection?"

_All's Well that Ends Well_, in its earlier form of _Loves Labour's

Won_, reflects the spirit and incidents of the Queen's progress to

Tichfield House in September 1591; the widowed Countess of Rousillon

personifies the widowed Countess of Southampton; the wise and courtly

Lafeu the courtly Sir Thomas Heneage, who within three years married the

Countess of Southampton. I have suggested that Bertram represented

Southampton, and that his coolness towards Helena, and his proposed

departure for the French Court, reflects Southampton's disinclination to

the marriage with Elizabeth Vere, and the fact of his departure shortly

afterwards for France. In Florio, who was at that time attached to the

Earl of Southampton's establishment, and presumably was present upon the

occasion of the progress to Tichfield, we have the prototype of

Parolles, though much of the present characterisation of that person,

while referring to the same original, undoubtedly pertains to a period

of later time revision, which on good evidence I date in, or about, the

autumn of 1598, at which period Shakespeare's earlier antipathy had

grown by knowledge and experience into positive aversion.

In 1591 Southampton was still a ward in Chancery, and the management of

his personal affairs and expenditures under the supervision of Lord

Burghley, to whose granddaughter he was affianced. It is evident then

that when Florio was retained in the capacity of tutor, or bear-leader,

and with the intention of having him accompany the young Earl upon his

continental travels, his selection for the post would be made by

Burghley--Southampton's guardian--who in former years had patronised and

befriended Florio's father.

In Lafeu's early distrust of Parolles' pretensions, and his eventual

recognition of his cowardice and instability, I believe we have a

reflection of the attitude of Sir Thomas Heneage towards Florio, and a

suggestion of his disapproval of Florio's intimacy with Southampton.

This leads me to infer that though Lady Southampton and Heneage

apparently acquiesced in, and approved of, Burghley's marital plans for

Southampton, secretly they were not displeased at their miscarriage.

When Southampton first came to Court he was a fresh and unspoiled youth,

with high ideals and utterly unacquainted with the ethical latitude and

moral laxity of city and Court life. In bringing him to Court and the

notice of the Queen, and at the same time endeavouring to unite his

interests with his own by marriage with his granddaughter, Burghley

hoped that--as in the case of his son-in-law, the Earl of Oxford, some

years before--Southampton would become a Court favourite, and possibly

supplant Essex in the Queen's favour, as the Earl of Oxford had for a

while threatened to displace Leicester. The ingenuous frankness and

independence of the young Earl, however, appeared likely to defeat the

plans of the veteran politician. Burghley now resolved that he must

broaden his protégé's knowledge of the world and adjust his ideals to

Court life. He accordingly engaged the sophisticated and world-bitten

Florio as his intellectual and moral mentor. I do not find any record of

Southampton's departure for France immediately after the Cowdray

progress, but it is apparent either that he accompanied the Earl of

Essex upon that nobleman's return to his command in France after a short

visit to England in October 1591, or that he followed shortly

afterwards. Essex was recalled from France in January 1592 (new style),

and on 2nd March of the same year we have a letter dated at Dieppe from

Southampton to Essex in England, which shows that Southampton was with

the army in France within a few months of the Cowdray progress.

Conceiving both Parolles and Falstaff to be caricatures of Florio I

apprehend in the military functions of these characters a reflection of

a probable quasi-military experience of their original during his

connection with Southampton in the year 1592.

An English force held Dieppe for Henry IV. in March 1592, awaiting

reinforcements from England to move against the army of the League,

which was encamped near the town. If Southampton took Florio with him at

this time it is quite likely that he had him appointed to a captaincy,

though probably not to a command. Captain Roger Williams, a brave and

capable Welsh officer (whom I have reason to believe was Shakespeare's

original for the Welsh Captain Fluellen in _Henry V_.), joined the army

at the end of this month, bringing with him six hundred men. In a letter

to the Council, upon his departure from England, he writes sarcastically

of the number and inefficiency of the captains being made. This letter

is so characteristic of the man, and so reminiscent of blunt Fluellen,

that I shall quote it in full.

"Moste Honorables, yesterdaie it was your Lordship's pleasure to

shewe the roll of captaines by their names. More then half of them

are knowen unto me sufficient to take charges; a greate number of

others, besides the rest in that roll, although not knowen unto me,

maie be as sufficient as the others, perhapps knowen unto menn of

farr better judgment than myselfe. To saie truthe, no man ought to

meddle further than his owne charge. Touching the three captaines

that your Lordships appointed to go with me, I knowe Polate and

Coverd, but not the thirde. There is one Captaine Polate, a Hampshire

man, an honest gentleman, worthie of good charge. There is another

not worthie to be a sergeant of a band, as Sir John Norris knows,

with many others; and I do heare by my Lord of Sussex it is he.

Captain Coverd is worthie, but not comparable unto a dozen others

that have no charge; but whatsoever your Lordships direct unto me, I

muste accept, and will do my best endeavour to discharge my dutie

towards the service comitted unto me. But be assured that the more

new captaines that are made, the more will begg, I meane will trouble

her Majestie after the warrs, unless the olde be provided for. I must

confess I wrote effectual for one Captaine Smithe unto Sir Philipp

Butler; two of the name Sir John Norris will confess to be well

worthie to commande, at the least, three hundred men a-piece. He that

I named, my desire is that he may be one of myne. I protest, on my

poore credytt, I never delt with her Majestic concerning any of those

captaines, nor anything that your Lordships spake yesterday before

me; but true it is, I spake before the Earle of Essex and Sir John

Norris, it was pittie that young captaines should be accepted and the

old refused. True it is that I toulde them also that the lieutenants

of the shire knew not those captaines so well as ourselves. On my

creditt, my meaning was the deputies lieutenants, the which, as it

was toulde me, had made all these captaines. My speeches are no lawe,

nor scarce good judgment, for the warrs were unknowen to me 22 yeres

agon. Notwithstanding, it shall satisfie me, that the greatest

generalls in that time took me to be a souldier, for the which I will

bring better proofs than any other of my qualitie shall deny. Humbly

desiring your Lordships' accustomed good favor towards me, I reste to

spend my life alwaies at her Majestie's pleasure, and at your

Lordships' devotion. (27th March 1591.)"

Within a short period of the arrival of Sir Roger Williams he had

dispersed the enemy and opened up the road to the suburbs of Paris;

which city was then held by the combined forces of the League and the

Spanish. I cannot learn whether Southampton accompanied the troops in

the proposed attack on Paris or continued his travels into the

Netherlands and Spain. Some verses in _Willobie his Avisa_ suggest such

a tour at this time. He was back in England, however, by September 1592,

when he accompanied the Queen and Court to Oxford. It is probable that

Florio accompanied the Earl of Southampton upon this occasion, and that

the nobleman's acquaintance with the mistress of the Crosse Inn, the

beginning of which I date at this time, was due to his introduction.

Florio lived for many years at Oxford and was undoubtedly familiar with

its taverns and tavern keepers.[30]

In depicting Parolles as playing Pander for Bertram, and at the same

time secretly pressing his own suit, I am convinced that Shakespeare

caricatured Florio's relations with Southampton and the "dark lady." It

is not unlikely that Florio is included by Roydon in _Willobie his

Avisa_ among Avisa's numerous suitors.

The literary history of _All's Well that Ends Well_, aside from internal

considerations, suggests that it was not composed originally for public

performance, nor revised with the public in mind. It appeared in print

for the first time in the Folio of 1623, and it is practically certain

that no earlier edition was issued. If we except Meres' mention of the

play, _Love's Labour's Won_, in 1598, the earliest reference we have to

_All's Well that Ends Well_ is that in the Stationers' Registers dated

8th November 1623, where it is recorded as a play not previously entered

to other men. There is no record of its presentation during

Shakespeare's lifetime.

Though the old play of _Love's Labour's Won_ mentioned by Meres has been

variously identified by critics, the consensus of judgment of the

majority is in favour of its identification as _All's Well that Ends

Well_. In no other of Shakespeare's plays--even in instances where we

have actual record of revision--can we so plainly recognise by internal

evidence both the work of his "pupil" and of his master pen. As I have

assigned the original composition of this play to the year 1592,

regarding it as a reflection of the Queen's progress to Tichfield House

and of the incidents of the Earl of Southampton's life at, and

following, that period, so I infer and believe I can demonstrate that

its revision reflects the same personal influences under new phases in

later years.

In February 1598 the Earl of Southampton left England for the French

Court with Sir Robert Cecil. He returned secretly in August and was

married privately at Essex House to Elizabeth Vernon, whose condition

had recently caused her dismissal from the Court. Southampton returned

to France as secretly as he had come, but knowledge of his return and of

his unauthorised marriage reaching the Queen, she issued an order for

his immediate recall, and upon his return in November committed him, and

even threatened to commit his wife (who was now a mother), to the Fleet.

It is not unlikely that Florio accompanied Southampton to France upon

this visit, and that much of Shakespeare's irritation at this time arose

from Southampton's neglect or coolness, which he supposed to be due to

Florio's increasing influence, to which Shakespeare also imputed much of

the young Earl's ill-regulated manner of life at this period.

In the happy ending of Helena's troubles, and in Bertram's recognition

of his moral responsibility and marital obligations, and also in the

significant change of the title of this play from _Love's Labour's Won_

to _All's Well that Ends Well_, we have Shakespeare's combined reproof

and approval of Southampton's recent conduct towards Elizabeth Vernon,

as well as a practical reflection of the actual facts in their case.

At about this time, in addition to the revision of _All's Well that Ends

Well_, I date the first production, though not the original composition,

of _Troilus and Cressida_, and also the final revision of _Love's

Labour's Lost_. In this latter play the part taken by Armado was, I

believe, enlarged and revised, as in the case of Parolles in _All's Well

that Ends Well_, to suit the incidents and characterisation to

Shakespeare's developed knowledge of, and experience with, Florio. There

are several small but significant links of description between the

Parolles of 1598 and the enlarged Armado of the same date. Both of these

characters are represented as braggart soldiers and also as linguists,

which evidently reflect Florio's quasi-military connection with

Southampton and his known proficiency in languages.

In Act IV. Scene iii. Parolles is referred to as "the manifold linguist

and armipotent soldier." In _Love's Labour's Lost_, in Act I. Scene i.,

in lines that palpably belong to the play in its earliest form, Armado

is described as "a man of fire-new words." He is also represented as a

traveller from Spain. In Act V. Scene ii., in lines that pertain to the

revision of 1598, he is made to take the soldier's part again, in giving

him the character of Hector in _The Nine Worthies_. In this character

Armado is made to use the peculiar word "armipotent" twice. It is

significant that this word is never used by Shakespeare except in

connection with Armado and Parolles. In giving Armado the character of

Hector, I am convinced that Shakespeare again indicates Florio's

military experience. In the lines which Armado recites in the character

of Hector, Shakespeare intentionally makes his personal point at Florio

more strongly indicative by alluding to the name Florio by the word

"flower," in the interrupted line with which Hector ends his verses.

ARM. Peace!----

"The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,

Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion;

A man so breathed, that certain he would fight ye

From morn till night, out of his pavilion.

I am that flower,----"

He reinforces his indication by Dumain's and Longaville's

interpolations--"That mint," "That columbine." Florio undoubtedly

indicated this meaning to his own name in entitling his earliest

publication _First Fruites_ and a later publication _Second Fruites_. In

a sonnet addressed to him by some friend of his who signs himself

"Ignoto," his name is also referred to in this sense. In his

Italian-English dictionary, published in 1598, he does not include the

word Florio. In the edition of 1611, however, he includes it, but states

that it means, "A kind of bird." In using the word "columbine"

Shakespeare gives the double meaning of a flower and also a bird. Florio

used a flower for his emblem, and had inscribed under his portrait in

the 1611 edition of his _Worlde of Wordes_:

"Floret adhuc et adhuc florebit

Florius haec specie floridus optat amans."

The frequent references to the characters of the _Iliad_ in this act and

scene of _Love's Labour's Lost_ link the period of its insertion with

the date of the original composition of _Troilus and Cressida_ in, or

about, 1598, to which time I have also assigned the revision of _Love's

Labour's Won_ into _All's Well that Ends Well_, and the development of

Parolles into a misleader of youth.

Another phase of Act V. Scene ii. of _Love's Labour's Lost_ appears to

be a reflection of an affair in the life of the individual whom

Shakespeare has in mind in the delineation of the characters of Armado

and Sir John Falstaff. Costard accuses Armado regarding his relations

with Jaquenetta.

COST. The party is gone, fellow Hector, she is gone; she is two

months on her way.

ARM. What meanest thou?

COST. Faith, unless you play the honest Trojan, the poor wench is

cast away: she's quick; the child brags in her belly already: 'tis

yours.

ARM. Dost thou infamonize me among potentates?

Precisely similar conditions are shown to exist in the relations between

Falstaff and Doll Tearsheet, in the _Second Part of Henry IV._, in which

play there are also allusions to the characters of the _Iliad_, which

link its composition with the same period as _Troilus and Cressida_; and

an allusion to _The Nine Worthies_ that apparently link it in time with

the final revision of _Love's Labour's Lost_ late in 1598.

ACT V. SCENE IV.

_Enter_ BEADLES _dragging in Hostess_ QUICKLY _and_ DOLL TEARSHEET.

HOST. No, thou arrant knave; I would to God that I might have thee

hanged: thou hast drawn my shoulder out of joint.

FIRST BEAD. The constables have delivered her over to me: and she

shall have whipping-cheer enough I warrant her: there hath been a man

or two lately killed about her.

DOL. Nut-hook, nut-hook, you lie. Come on; I'll tell thee what, thou

damned tripe-visaged rascal, and the child I now go with miscarry,

thou wert better thou hadst struck thy mother, thou paper-faced

villain.

HOST. O the Lord, that Sir John were come! he would make this a

bloody day to somebody. But I pray God the fruit of her womb

miscarry.

The natural sequel to the conditions so plainly indicated in the

passages quoted from the lately revised _Love's Labour's Lost_,

regarding Jaquenetta and Armado, and from the recently written _Henry

IV._ in reference to Doll Tearsheet and Falstaff, is reported in due

time in a postscript to a letter written by Elizabeth Vernon, now Lady

Southampton, on 8th July 1599, to her husband, who was in Ireland with

Essex. She writes from Chartley:

"All the nues I can send you that I thinke will make you mery is that

I reade in a letter from London that Sir John Falstaff is by his

Mistress Dame Pintpot made father of a godly millers thum a boye

thats all heade and very litel body: but this is a secret."

Here we have record that Shakespeare's patron, and his patron's wife,

knew that Falstaff had a living prototype who was numbered among their

acquaintances. That the birth of this child was not in wedlock is

suggested by the concluding words of the Countess's letter "but this is

a secret."

The identification of Florio as the original caricatured as Parolles and

Falstaff has never been anticipated, though some critics have noticed

the basic resemblances between these two characters of Shakespeare's.

Parolles has been called by Schlegel, "the little appendix to the great

Falstaff."

A few slight links in the names of characters have led some commentators

to date a revision of _All's Well that Ends Well_ at about the same time

as that of the composition of _Measure for Measure_ and _Hamlet_. While

the links of subjective evidence I have adduced for one revision in, or

about, the autumn of 1598, and at the same period as that of the

composition of the _Second Part of Henry IV._, of the final revision of

_Love's Labour's Lost_, and shortly after the production of _Troilus and

Cressida_, in 1598, are fairly conclusive, a consideration of the

characterisation of Falstaff in the _First Part of Henry IV._ and of the

evidence usually advanced for the date of the composition of this play

will elucidate this idea.

The _First Part of Henry IV._ in its present form belongs to a period

shortly preceding the date of its entry in the Stationers' Registers, in

February 1598. I am convinced that it was published at this time with

Shakespeare's cognizance, and that he revised it with this intention in

mind. All inference and evidence assign the composition of the _Second

Part of Henry IV._ to some part of the year 1598. It is unlikely,

however, that it was included in Meres' mention of _Henry IV._ in his

_Palladis Tamia_, which was entered on the Stationers' Registers in

September of that year. If the link between Doll Tearsheet's condition

and the similar affair reported in Lady Southampton's letter in July

1599 be connected in intention with the same conditions reflected in the

case of Armado and Jaquenetta, its date of production is palpably

indicated, as is also the final revision of _Love's Labour's Lost_ in

about December 1598. Both of these plays were probably presented--the

_Second Part of Henry IV._ for the first time, and _Love's Labour's

Lost_ for the first time in its final form--for the Christmas

festivities at Court, in 1598. While the Quarto of _Love's Labours Lost_

is dated as published in 1598, there is no record of its intended

publication in the Stationers' Registers. It must be remembered,

however, that all publications issued previous to the 25th of March 1599

would be dated 1598.

A comparison of the two parts of _Henry IV._ under the metrical test,

while clearly showing _Part I._ as an earlier composition, yet

approximates their dates so closely in time as to suggest a

comparatively recent and thorough revision of the earlier portion of the

play in 1597 or 1598. It is plain, however, that Shakespeare's _Henry

IV., Part I._, held the boards in some form for several years before

this date. The numerous contemporary references, under the name of Sir

John Oldcastle, to the character now known as Falstaff, evidences on the

part of the public such a settled familiarity with this same character,

under the old name, as to suggest frequent presentations of

Shakespeare's play in the earlier form. The Oldcastle of _The Famous

Victories of Henry V._ has no connection whatever with the

characterisation of Falstaff.

Though the metrical evidences of so early a date are now obscured by the

drastic revision of the autumn of 1597, or spring of 1598, I am of the

opinion that _Henry IV., Part I._, as it was originally written, belongs

to a period antedating the publication of _Willobie his Avisa_ in 1594,

and that it was composed late in 1593, or early in 1594. I am led to

this conclusion by the underlying thread of subjective evidence linking

the plays of this period with the affairs of Southampton and his

connections. It is unlikely that Shakespeare would introduce that "sweet

wench" my "Young Mistress of the Tavern" into a play after the

publication of the scandal intended by Roydon in 1594, and probable that

he altered the characterisation of the hostess to the old and widowed

Mistress Quickly in the _Second Part of Henry IV._ for this reason.

Believing that _Love's Labour's Won_--i.e. _All's Well that Ends Well_

in its earlier form--reflects Southampton in the person of Bertram, and

Florio as Parolles, I have suggested that the military capacity of the

latter character infers a temporary military experience of Florio's in

the year 1592. It is evident that most of the matter in this play

following Act IV. Scene iii. belongs to the period of revision in 1598.

In Act IV. Scene iii. we have what was apparently Parolles' final

appearance in the old play of 1592; here he has been exposed, and his

purpose in the play ended.

FIRST SOLDIER. You are undone, Captain, all but your scarf; that has

a knot on't yet.

PAROLLES. Who cannot be crushed with a plot?

FIRST SOLDIER. If you could find out a country where women were that

had received so much shame, you might begin an impudent nation. Fare

ye well, Sir; I am for France too; we shall speak of you there.

[_Exit Soldiers._

PAROLLES. Yet am I thankful: if my heart were great,

'Twould burst at this. Captain, I'll be no more;

But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft

As captain shall: simply the thing I am

Shall make me live. Who knows himself a braggart,

Let him fear this, for it will come to pass

That every braggart shall be found an ass.

Rust sword! cool blushes! and, Parolles, live

Safest in shame, being fool'd, by foolery thrive.

There's place and means for every man alive.

I'll after them.

[_Exit._

The resolution he here forms augurs for the future a still greater moral

deterioration. He resolves to seek safety in shame; to thrive by

foolery; and, though fallen from his captaincy, to

"eat and drink, and sleep as soft as captain shall."

When Shakespeare resumed his plan of reflecting Florio's association

with Southampton, in the _First Part of Henry IV._ he recalled the state

of mind and morals in which he had left him as Parolles in _Love's

Labour's Won_, and allowing for a short lapse of time, and the effects

of the life he had resolved to live, introduces him in _Henry IV._,

Part I. Act 1. Scene ii., as follows:

FAL. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad?

PRINCE. Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack and

unbuttoning thee after supper and sleeping upon benches after noon,

that thou hast forgotten to demand that truly which thou would'st

truly know. What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the day?

Unless hours were cups of sack, and minutes capons, and clocks the

tongues of bawds, and dials the signs of leaping-houses, and the

blessed sun himself a fair hot wench in flame-coloured taffeta, I see

no reason why thou should'st be so superfluous to demand the time of

day.

In Parolles and Falstaff we have displayed the same lack of moral

consciousness, the same grossly sensuous materialism, and withal, the

same unquenchable optimism and colossal impudence.

When we remember that though Shakespeare based his play upon the old

_Famous Victories of Henry V._ and took from it the name Oldcastle, that

the actual characterisation of his Oldcastle--Falstaff--has no prototype

in the original, the abrupt first entry upon the scene of this

tavern-lounger and afternoon sleeper-upon-benches, as familiarly

addressing the heir apparent as "Hal" and "lad," supplies a good

instance of Shakespeare's method--noticed by Maurice Morgann--of making

a character _act and speak from those parts of the composition which are

inferred only and not distinctly shown_; but to the initiated, including

Southampton and his friends, who knew the bumptious self-sufficiency of

Shakespeare's living model, and who followed the developing

characterisation from play to play, the effect of such bold dramatic

strokes must have been irresistibly diverting.

It is difficult now to realise the avidity with which such publications

as Florio's _First_ and _Second Fruites_ were welcomed from the press

and read by the cultured, or culture-seeking, public of his day. Italy

being then regarded as the centre of culture and fashion a colloquial

knowledge of Italian was a fashionable necessity. A reference in a

current play to an aphorism of Florio's or to a characteristic passage

from the proverbial philosophy of which he constructs his

Italian-English conversations, which would pass unnoticed now, would be

readily recognised by a fashionable Elizabethan audience.

When Shakespeare, through the utterances of the prince, characterises

Falstaff by suggestion upon his first appearance in the play in the

following lines:

"Thou art so fat-witted, with drinking of old sack and unbuttoning

thee after supper and sleeping upon benches after noon, that thou

hast forgotten to demand that truly which thou would'st truly know,"

for the benefit of his initiated friends he links up and continues

Florio's characterisation as Parolles and Falstaff, and in the remainder

of the passage,

"What a devil hast thou to do with the time of the day? Unless hours

are cups of sack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues of

bawds, and dials the signs of leaping-houses, and the blessed sun

himself a fair hot wench in flame-coloured taffeta,"

suggests Florio's character from his own utterances in the _Second

Fruites_, where one of the characters holds forth as follows:

"As for me, I never will be able, nor am I able, to be willing but to

love whatsoever pleaseth women, to whom I dedicate, yield, and

consecrate what mortal thing soever I possess, and I say, that a

salad, a woman and a capon, as yet was never out of season."

A consideration of certain of the divergences between the _dramatis

personæ_ of the _First Part of Henry IV._ and the _Second Part of Henry

IV._, made in the light of the thread of subjective evidence in the

plays of the Sonnet period, may give us some new clues in determining

the relative periods of their original composition.

In the _First Part of Henry IV._ the hostess of the tavern is referred

to as a young and beautiful woman in Act I. Scene ii., as follows:

FALSTAFF.... And is not my hostess of the tavern a most sweet wench?

PRINCE. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of the castle. And is not a

buff jerkin a most sweet robe of durance?

FAL. How now, how now, mad wag! what, in thy quips and quiddities?

What a plague have I to do with a buff jerkin?

PRINCE. Why, what a pox have I to do with my hostess of the tavern?

FAL. Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning many a time and oft.

PRINCE. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part?

FAL. No, I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid all there. */

PRINCE. Yes, and elsewhere, so far as my coin would stretch; and

where it would not, I have used my credit.

FAL. Yea, and so used it that, were it not here apparent that thou

art heir apparent--but, I prithee, sweet wag, shall there be

gallows standing in England when thou art king? And resolution

thus fobbed as it is with the rusty curb of old father antic

the law? Do not thou, when thou art king, hang a thief.

Falstaff's impertinent and suggestive reference to the prince's intimacy

with the hostess, not being taken well, he quickly gives the

conversation a turn to cover up the mistake he finds he has made. It is

palpable that the characterisation of the hostess in the _First Part of

Henry IV._, in its original form, was not the same as that presented in

the _Second Part_ of this play in which she is represented as Mistress

Quickly, an old, unattractive, and garrulous widow. In the _First Part

of Henry IV._ she is mentioned only once as Mistress Quickly. In Act

III. Scene iii. the prince addresses her under this name and inquires

about her husband.

PRINCE. What sayest thou, Mistress Quickly? How doth thy husband? I

love him well; he is an honest man.

This single mention of the hostess as Mistress Quickly is evidently an

interpolation made at the period of the revision of this play late in

1597, or early in 1598. It is also probable that the revision at this

time was made with the intention of linking the action of the _First

Part_ to the _Second Part_ of the play, the outline of which Shakespeare

was probably planning at that time.

The dramatic time of the _First Part_ of the play has been estimated as

at the outside covering a period of three months, and of the _Second

Part_, a period of two months. No long interval is supposed to have

elapsed between the action of the two parts; yet, in the _First Part_ of

the play the hostess is young, attractive, and has a husband. In the

_Second Part_, she is old, unattractive, and is a widow. This divergence

is evidently to be accounted for by the fact that the _First Part of

Henry IV._ in its earliest, and unrevised, form was written, not long

after the composition of _Love's Labour's Won_ (_All's Well that Ends

Well_ in its early form), and during the estrangement between

Southampton and Shakespeare in 1594, caused by the nobleman's relations

with the "dark lady," that "most sweet wench," "my hostess of the

tavern."

I have indicated a certain continuity and link of characterisation

between Parolles, as we leave him in _All's Well that Ends Well_, and

Falstaff, as we first encounter him in the _First Part of Henry IV._ I

shall now demonstrate parallels between the characterisation of Falstaff

in the _First Part of Henry IV._, and the tone and spirit of the

conversations between the imaginary characters of Florio's _Second

Fruites_. Fewer resemblances are to be found between the _Second

Fruites_ and the _Second Part of Henry IV._ From this I infer that when

Shakespeare composed the _First Part of Henry IV._ in its original form,

his personal acquaintance with Florio was recent and limited, and that

he developed his characterisation of Falstaff in that portion of the

play largely from Florio's self-revelation in the _Second Fruites_, and

that in continuing this characterisation later on, in the _Second Part_

of the play, he reinforced it from a closer personal observation of the

idiosyncrasies of his prototype.

The Earl of Southampton, who was shadowed forth as Bertram in _Love's

Labour's Won_, with Parolles as his factotum,--representing Florio in

that capacity,--becomes the prince in _Henry IV._, while Florio becomes

Falstaff. The _First Part_ of the play in its original form reflected

their connection and the affair of the "dark lady" in 1593-94. The

_First Part of Henry IV._, in its revised form, and the _Second Part of

Henry IV._ reflect a resumed, or a continued, familiarity between

Southampton and Florio in 1598. This leads me to infer that Florio may

again have accompanied Southampton when he left England with Sir Robert

Cecil for the French Court in February 1598, in much the same capacity

as he had served him on his first visit to France in 1592, when they

were first reflected as Bertram and Parolles.

In the original development of the characterisation of Parolles, Armado,

and Falstaff, I am convinced that Shakespeare worked, not only from

observation of his prototype in their daily intercourse, but that he

also studied Florio's mental and moral angles and literary mannerisms in

his extant productions. If Armado's letters to Jaquenetta and to the

King be compared with Florio's dedication of his _Second Fruites_--which

was published in 1591, several months preceding the original composition

of _Love's Labour's Lost_--and also with his "Address to the Reader," a

similitude will be found that certainly passes coincidence. A comparison

of Parolles' and Falstaff's opportunist and materialistic philosophy

with Florio's outlook on life as we find it unconsciously exhibited in

his _Second Fruites_, reveals a characteristic unity that plainly

displays intentional parody on Shakespeare's part.

Didactic literature seldom presents the real character and workaday

opinions and beliefs of a writer. The teacher generally speaks from a

height transcending his ordinary levels of thought and action. In

Florio's _Second Fruites_ his intention is didactic only in relation to

imparting a colloquial knowledge of Italian. In this endeavour he

arranges a series of twelve conversations on matters of everyday life

between imaginary characters, who are, presumably, of about the same

social quality as his usual pupils--the younger gentry of the time. In

these talks his intention was to be entirely natural and to reproduce,

what he conceived to be, ordinary conversation between gentlemen of

fashion. In doing this he reveals ethics, manners, and morals of a

decidedly Falstaffian flavour. The gross and satyr-like estimate of

women he displays; his primping enjoyment of apparel; the gusto with

which he converses of things to eat and drink--of ale, and wine, and

capons; his distrust of the minions of the law; his knowledge and horror

of arrest and imprisonment, and his frankly animal zest of life, all

suggest Shakespeare's knowledge of the book as well as the man.

As Florio's _Second Fruites_ is not easily accessible to the general

reader, a few extracts may serve to exhibit the characteristic

resemblances to Shakespeare's delineation of Falstaff.

The twelve chapters of the work are headed as follows:

The first chapter, "Of rising in the morning and of things belonging

to the chamber and to apparel."

The second, "For common speech in the morning between friends;

wherein is described a set of tennis."

The third, "Of familiar morning communication; wherein many

courtesies are handled, and the manner of visiting and saluting the

sick, and of riding, with all that belongeth to a horse."

The fourth chapter, "Wherein is set down a dinner for six persons,

between whom there fall many pleasant discourses concerning meat and

repast."

The fifth, "Wherein discourse is held of play and many things thereto

appertaining, a game of primero and of chess."

The sixth chapter, "Concerning many familiar and ceremonious

compliments among six gentlemen who talk of many pleasant matters,

but especially of divers necessary, profitable, civil, and proverbial

receipts for a traveller."

The seventh, "Between two gentlemen who talk of arms, and of the art

of fencing, and of buying and selling."

The eighth chapter, "Between James, and Lippa, his man, wherein they

talk of many pleasant and delightsome jests, and in it is described

an unpleasant lodging, an illformed old woman, also the beautiful

parts that a woman ought to have to be accounted fair in all

perfection, and pleasantly blazoned a counterfeit lazy and

naught-worth servant."

The ninth, "Between Cæzar and Tiberio; wherein they discourse of news

of the Court, of courtiers of this day, and of many other matters of

delight."

The tenth chapter, "Between gentlemen and a servant; wherein they

talk of going to supper, and familiar speech late in the evening."

The eleventh, "Wherein they talk of going to bed, and many things

thereto belonging."

The twelfth, "Wherein proverbially and pleasantly discourse is held

of love and women."

He makes one of his characters end this last chapter as follows:

"As for me, I never will be able, nor am I able, to be willing but to

love whatsoever pleaseth women, to whom I dedicate, yield, and

consecrate what mortal thing soever I possess, and I say, that a

salad, a woman, and a capon as yet was never out of season."

The remarkable resemblance between the sentiments here expressed and the

characteristics attributed to Falstaff by Prince Henry in the passage

quoted above from _Henry IV._, Act I. Scene ii., suggest Shakespeare's

knowledge of the _Second Fruites_.

He describes the wardrobe of a man of fashion with envious unction,

giving a minute inventory of his shirts, handkerchiefs, ruffs, cuffs,

towels, quoises, shoes, buskins, daggers, swords, gloves, doublets,

jerkins, gowns, hats, caps, and boots. The very superabundance

recalling, by contrast, the paucity in this regard in the cases of

Armado and Falstaff.

The philosophy of his conversations is selfish and worldly-wise to a

degree, with nowhere the slightest suggestion of ideality or altruism.

"T. From those that I do trust, good Lord deliver me, from such as I

mistrust, I'll harmless come to be.

G. He gives me so many good words I cannot fail but trust him.

T. Wot you not that fair words and foul deeds are wont to make both

fools and wise men fain.

G. I know it, but if he beat me with a sword, I will beat him again

with a scabbard.

T. What, will you give him bread for cake then?

G. If any man wrong thee, wrong him again, or else be sure to

remember it."

In the conversation concerning meats and repast he is Gargantuan in his

descriptions.

"S. The meat is coming in, let us set down.

C. I would wash first if it were not to trouble Robert.

S. What, ho! Bring some water to wash our hands.

ROBERT. Here it is fresh and good to drinke for a neede.

H. God hath made water for other things than to drinke.

C. Hast thou not heard that water rots, not only men, but stakes?

R. Yet men say that water was made to drinke, to saile, and to wash.

M. It was good to drinke when men did eat acornes.

* * * * *

T. I pray you set down for I have a good stomach.

N. As for a good stomach, I do yield a jot unto you.

S. My masters, the meat cooles.

* * * * *

S. My masters, sit down; every man take his place.

N. Tush, I pray you, sit down.

C. With obliging you I shall show myself unmannerly.

H. Of courtesie, Master M., sit here between us two.

M. Virtue consists in the midst quothe the devil when he found

himself between two nuns.

S. Bring hither that salad, those steaks, that leg of mutton, that

piece of beef with all the boiled meats we have.

S. I pray you, every man serve himself, let everyone cut where he

please, and seek the best morsels.

N. Truly these meats are very well seasoned.

* * * * *

S. Call for drinke when you please, and what kind of wine you like

best.

N. Give me some wine but put some water in it.

S. You may well enough drinke it pure, for our wines are all borne

under the sign of Aquarius.

M. Do you not know that wine watered is esteemed a vile thing?

C. Give me a cup of beere, or else a bowl of ale.

S. I pray you, do not put that sodden water into your bellie.

C. I like it as well as wine, chiefly this hot weather.

T. He that drinks wine drinks blood, he that drinks water drinks

fleame (phlegm).

H. I love to drink wine after the Dutch fashion.

T. How do they drinke it, I pray you?

H. In the morning, pure; at dinner, without water, and at night as it

comes from the vessel.

M. I like this rule; they are wise, and God's blessing light upon

them.

H. A slice of bacon would make us taste this wine well.

S. What, ho! set that gammon of bacon on the board.

* * * * *

M. God be thanked, I am at a truce with my stomach.

T. In faith, I would stay until the bells do ring.

S. You were not fasting then when you came here?

M. I had only drunk a little Malmslie.

T. And I a good draught of Muscatine, and eat a little bread.

S. Bring the meat away, in God's name.

R. The meat is not enough yet.

* * * * *

S. Take away that empty pot, set some bread upon the table and put

some salt in the salt cellar, and make roome for the second messe.

R. Now, comes the roast.

S. Welcome may with his flowers.

T. And good speed may our barke have.

S. The Jews do not look for their Messias with more devotion than I

have looked for the roast meat.

* * * * *

S. Set that capon upon the table, and those chickens, those rabbits,

and that hen, that goose; those woodcock, those snipes, those larks,

those quails, those partridges, those pheasants and that pasty of

venison.

R. Here is everything ready.

N. You have led us to a wedding.

S. I pray you, cut up that hen, I pray God it be tender.

C. Alas, I think she was dam to the cock that crowed to St. Peter.

S. I thought that so soon as I saw her.

N. I beseech you, sir, will you carve some of that pheasant?

M. They be offices that I love to do.

N. I will one day fill my bellie full of them.

S. Master Andrew, will it please you to eat an egg?

A. With all my heart, sir, so be it new laid.

S. As new as may be; laid this morning.

A. I love new-laid eggs well.

S. Sirra, go cause a couple of eggs to be made readie.

R. By and by, will you have them hard or soft?

A. It is no matter, I love them better raire.

T. An egg of an hour, bread of a day, kidd of a month, wine of six,

flesh of a year, fish of ten, a woman of fifteen, and a friend of a

hundred, he must have that will be merrie.

* * * * *

S. What aileth Master T. that he looks so sad?

T. I am not very well at ease.

S. What feel you, where grieves it you?

T. I feel my stomach a little over-cloyde.

N. Shall I teach you a good medicine?

* * * * *

H. My mother, of happy memorie, was wont to tell me that a pill of

wheat, of a hen the days work sweat, and some vine juice that were

neat was best physick I could eat.

M. Your mother was a woman worthy to govern a kingdom.

* * * * *

S. My masters, you see here the period of this poor dinner; the best

dish you have had hath been your welcome.

H. As that hath fed our minds so have the others fed our bodies well.

S. It grieves me that you have been put to such penance, but yet I

hope you will excuse me.

C. If doing such penance a man might win heaven, O sweet penance for

a man to do every day."

Portions of the sixth chapter, with its talk of divers necessary

prophetic and proverbial precepts for a traveller, evidently supplied

Shakespeare with the hint for Scene iv. Act II. of the _First Part of

Henry IV._, between Falstaff and Prince Hal, wherein Falstaff personates

the prince's father.

"S. Mister Peeler, whatsoever I shall tell you, according to my

wonted manner, I will speak as plainly unto you as though you were my

son, and therefore pardon me, if I shall seem eyther too familiar, or

too homely with you.

P. Say on boldly, for I shall be very proud if it please you to

account me as your child, and that I may repute you as my father.

S. First, my loving Mister Peeler, if you purpose to come unto the

wished end of your travel, have always your mind and thought on God."

This highly moral preamble is followed by much ungodly, worldly wisdom.

"S. And if you will be a traveller and wander safely through the

world, wheresoever you come have always the eyes of a falcon that you

may see far, the ears of an ass that you may hear well, the face of

an ape that you may be ready to laugh, the mouth of a hog to eat all

things, the shoulder of a camel that you may bear anything with

patience, the legs of a stag that you may flee from dangers, and see

that you never want two bags very full; that is, one of patience, for

with it a man overcomes all things, and another of money, for,

They that have good store of crownes,

Are called lordes, though they be clownes;

and gold hath the very same virtue that charity hath, it covereth a

multitude of faults, and golden hammers break all locks, and golden

meedes do reach all heights, have always your hand on your hat, and

in your purse, for,

A purse or cap used more or less a year

Gain many friends, and do not cost thee dear.

Travelling by the way in winter time, honour your companion, so shall

you avoid falling into dangerous places. In summer go before, so

shall not the dust come into your eyes. Setting at board, if there be

but little bread, hold it fast in your hand, if small store of flesh,

take hold on the bone, if no store of wine, drink often, and unless

you be required, never offer any man either salt, etc."

The ninth chapter, wherein they "plausibly discourse of news of the

Court and of courtiers of this day, and of many other matters of

delight," is full of Falstaffian paradox, and reminiscent of Justice

Shallow's relations with Jane Nightwork.

"C. What is become of your neighbour, I mean the old doating man

grown twice a child?

T. As old as you see him he has of late wedded a young wench of

fifteen years old.

C. Then he and she will make up the whole bible together; I mean the

old and new testament.

T. To an old cat a young mouse.

C. Old flesh makes good broth.

T. What has become of his son that I see him not?

C. He was put in prison for having beaten an enemy of his.

T. Be wrong or right prison is a spite.

C. A man had need look to himself in this world.

T. What is become of his fair daughter whom he married to what you

call him that was sometime our neighbour?

C. She spins crooked spindles for her husband and sends him into

Cornwall without ship or boat.

T. What, does she make him wear the stag's crest then?

C. You have guessed right and have hit the nail on the head.

T. His blood is of great force and virtue then.

C. What virtue can his blood have, tell me in good faith?

T. It is good to break diamonds withal.

C. Why, man's blood cannot break diamonds.

T. Yes, but the blood of a he-goat will.

C. Moreover, he may challenge to have part in heaven by it.

T. What matter is it for him then to be a he-goat, or a stumpbuck, or

a kid, or a chamois, a stag, or a brill, a unicorn, or an elephant so

he may be safe, but how may that be, I pray thee, tell me?

C. I will tell thee, do not you know that whosoever is made a cuckold

by his wife, either he knows it, or he knows it not.

T. That I know, then what will you infer upon it?

C. If he knows it he must needs be patient, and therefore a martyr,

if he knows it not, he is innocent, and you know that martyrs and

innocents shall be saved, which if you grant, it followeth that all

cuckolds shall obtain paradise.

T. Methinks then that women are not greatly to be blamed if they seek

their husbands' eternal salvation, but are rather to be commended as

causes of a noble and worthy effect."

He speaks with evident feeling of one who is imprisoned for debt.

"T. Take heed of debts; temper thy desires, and moderate thy tongue.

C. It is a devilish thing to owe money.

T. For all that he is so proud that though he have need of patience

he calleth for revenge.

C. Could not he save himself out of the hands of those catchpoles,

counter guardians, or sergeants?

T. Seeking to save himself by flight from that rascality he had

almost left the lining of his cap behind.

C. I am sorry for his mischance, for with his jests, toys, fooleries,

and pleasant conceits, he would have made Heraclitus himself to burst

his heart with laughing.

T. Did you ever go see him yet?

C. I would not go into prison to fetch one of my eyes if I had left

it there.

T. Yet there be some honest men there.

C. And where will you have them but in places of persecution?

T. You have reason.

C. I would not be painted there so much do I hate and loathe the

place."

Speaking of the Court and courtiers he says:

"C. The favours of the Court are like fair weather in winter, or

clouds in summer, and Court, in former time, was counted death.

T. It is still Court for the vicious, but death for the virtuous,

learned and wise.

C. Seven days doth the Court regard a virtuous man, be he never so

mannerly, well-brought up, and of gentle conditions. That is, the

first day he makes a show of himself, he is counted gold; the second,

silver; the third, copper; the fourth, tin; the fifth, lead; the

sixth, dross; and the seventh, nothing at all, whereas the contrary

happeneth of the vicious.

T. Yet the virtuous have sometimes got rich gifts there.

C. Yea, but they come as seldom as the year of jubilee.

* * * * *

T. Yet some of them are so courteous, so gentle, so kind, so liberal,

so bountiful, that envy itself cannot choose but love them, and blame

honour them, and, I think, there is no Court in the world that hath

more nobility in it than ours.

* * * * *

T. But tell me truth, had you never the mind to become a courtier?

C. He that is well, let him not stir, for if in removing he break his

leg, at his own peril be it.

T. Where there is life there is means; where means, entertainment;

where entertainment, hope; where hope, there is comfort."

How closely this last passage resembles the philosophy of Parolles,

after his disgrace, in Act IV. Scene iii. of _All's Well that Ends

Well_.

PAR. Yet am I thankful: if my heart were great,

'Twould burst at this. Captain, I'll be no more;

But I will eat and drink, and sleep as soft

As captain shall: simply the thing I am

Shall make me live.

* * * * *

There's place and means for every man alive.

The familiarity of the public with the character of Falstaff, under the

name of Sir John Oldcastle, is evidenced by the frequency with which

both this play and character are referred to by the latter name even

after the publication of the _First Part of Henry IV._ in 1598, with the

name changed to Falstaff. If this play was originally composed, as is

usually suggested, in 1596 or 1597, the short period which it could have

been presented in its earlier form, and before its revision in the

beginning of 1598, would scarcely allow for the confirmed acquaintance

of the public with the name of Sir John Oldcastle in connection with the

characterisation developed by Shakespeare. While Shakespeare took this

name from the old play of _The Famous Victories of Henry V._, there is

no similarity between the characterisation of the persons presented

under that name in the two plays.

Nicholas Rowe, Shakespeare's earliest biographer, is responsible for the

report that the change of the name of this character from Oldcastle to

Falstaff was made by Shakespeare at the command of the Queen, and owing

to the protest of Lord Cobham. It is not unlikely that there was some

basis of truth for this report, nor improbable that Lord Cobham's

alleged objection was caused by the misrepresentations of Shakespeare's

literary rivals, including Florio, whose own "ox had been gored."

In 1597 the Wardenship of the Cinque Ports having become vacant, Sir

Robert Sidney, who had been long absent from England as Governor of

Flushing, and was desirous of returning, made application for the

office, being aided in his suit by the Earl of Essex and others of his

friends in Essex's party. Sir Robert Cecil, while encouraging Sidney and

professing friendship, secretly aided Lord Cobham for the post. Sidney's

military fitness for so responsible a charge was constantly urged

against Cobham's lack of martial experience, but the Queen, after a long

delay, during which much heat developed between the contestants and

their friends, finally decided in favour of her relative, Lord Cobham.

The Earl of Southampton was one of Sir Robert Sidney's most intimate

friends and ardent admirers, and must have taken some interest in this

long-drawn-out rivalry. It is possible that Shakespeare, instigated by

Southampton, may have introduced some personal reflections suggestive of

Cobham's military inadequacy into the performance of the play at this

crucial period, Cobham's alleged descent from the historical Oldcastle

lending the suggestion its personal significance.

The sixth _book_ of Sonnets was written either late in 1596, or in 1597.

A line in the first Sonnet of this book (Thorpe's 66) implies, on

Shakespeare's part, a recent unpleasant experience with the authorities:

"And art made tongue-tied by authority."

It is apparent that whatever was the cause, some difficulty arose in

about 1597 regarding the name Oldcastle. Nicholas Rowe's report is

substantiated by Shakespeare's own apologetic words in the Epilogue to

_Henry IV., Part II._:

"If you be not too much cloyed with fat meat, our humble author will

continue the story, with Sir John in it, and make you merry with fair

Katherine of France; where, for any thing I know, Falstaff shall die

of a sweat, unless already a' be killed with your hard opinions; for

Oldcastle died a martyr, and this is not the man."

If Shakespeare was compelled to alter this name for the reasons reported

by Nicholas Rowe, it is not unlikely that Florio and his literary allies

helped in some manner to arouse the resentment of Lord Cobham. In

altering the play in 1598, and changing the name of Sir John Oldcastle

to Sir John Falstaff, I am convinced that Shakespeare intentionally made

his caricature of John Florio more transparent by choosing a name having

the same initials as his, and furthermore, that in altering the

historical name of _Fastolfe_ to _Falstaff_, he intended to indicate

Florio's relations with Southampton as a _false-staff_, a misleader of

youth. The Epilogue of the _Second Part of Henry IV._, while denying a

representation of the historical Sir John Oldcastle in the words "this

is not the man," implies at the same time _that some other personal

application is intended_ in the characterisation of Falstaff.

The _First Part of Henry IV._, with its significant allusion to the

"Humourous Conceits of Sir John Falstaff" on the title-page, was entered

on the Stationers' Registers under date of 25th February 1598, and was

published within a short period. That John Florio recognised

Shakespeare's satire and personal intention in choosing a character with

his own initials he shows within a month or two of this date in his

"Address to the Reader," prefixed to his _Worlde of Wordes_. He accuses

a person, whom he indicates under the initials "H.S." of having made a

satirical use of his initials "J.F." It is evident that in using the

letters "H.S." he is not giving the actual initials of his antagonist.

Addressing "H.S." he says: "And might not a man, that can do as much as

you (that is reade) finde as much matter out of H.S. as you did out of

J.F.?" He says the person at whom he aims is a "reader" and a "writer"

too; he also indicates him as a maker of plays. He says:

"Let Aristopanes and his comedians _make plaies_, and scowre their

mouthes on Socrates; those very mouthes they make to vilifie, shall

be meanes to amplifie his vertue. And it was not easie for Cato to

speake evill, so was it not usuall for him to heare evill. It may be

Socrates would not kicke againe, if an asse did kicke at him, yet

some that cannot be so wise, and will not be so patient as Socrates,

will for such jadish tricks give the asse his due burthen of

bastonadas. Let H.S. hisse, and his complices quarrell, and all

breake their gals, _I have a great faction of good writers to bandie

with me_."

Florio here gives palpable evidence of the fact that his was not an

isolated case, but that he was banded with a literary faction in

hostility to Shakespeare, which included Roydon, who published _Willobie

his Avisa_, in 1594, again in 1596, and again in 1599; Chapman, who, in

1593, attacked Shakespeare in the early _Histriomastix_, and again in

1599 in its revision, as well as in his poem to Harriot, appended to his

_Achilles Shield_ in the same year; and Marston, who joined Chapman in

opposition to Shakespeare, and helped in the revision of

_Histriomastix_. In the words "Let H.S. hisse, and his complices

quarrell, etc.," Florio also gives evidence that Shakespeare at this

period had literary allies. In the story of the Sonnets I shall show

that Dekker was Shakespeare's principal ally in what has been called the

"War of the Theatres," which is supposed to have commenced at this time,

and, bearing in mind Chettle's recorded collaboration with Dekker at

this same period, it is evident that he also sided with Shakespeare.

A careful search of Elizabethan literature fails to bring to light _any

other writer who makes a satirical use of the initials "J.F.," or any

record of a writer bearing initials in any way resembling "H.S." who in

any manner approximates to Florio's description of a "reader" and a

"writer too" as well as a maker of plays_.

I have already shown Chapman's references to Shakespeare in the

dedication of _The Shadow of Night_. His allusion to Shakespeare as

"passion-driven" at that date (1594) being a reference to his relations

with the "dark lady." That he suggests Shakespeare, in his capacity of

"reader" to the Earl of Southampton, and that he takes flings at his

social quality in the expression "Judgements butcher," which I recognise

as an allusion to his father's trade, and in the words "Intonsi

Catones," as a reference to his provincial breeding as well as to the

flowing manner in which he wore his hair. In elucidating the meaning of

the initials "H.S.," Florio still more coarsely indicates our

country-bred poet, and accuses him of being a parasite, a bloodsucker,

and a monster of lasciviousness. His abusive descriptions are given in

Latin and Italian phrases commencing with the letters H and S. His

reason for using the letter H no doubt being that _there is no W in

either Italian or Latin, H being its nearest phonetic equivalent_. Let

us consider the whole passage.

"There is another sort of leering curs, that rather snarle than bite,

whereof I coulde instance in one, who lighting upon a good sonnet of

a gentlemans, a friend of mine, that loved better to be a Poet, then

to be counted so, called the author a rymer, notwithstanding he had

more skill in good Poetrie, then my slie gentleman seemed to have in

good manners or humanitie. But my quarrell is to a tooth-lesse dog,

that hateth where he cannot hurt, and would faine bite when he hath

no teeth. His name is H.S. Do not take it for the Romane H.S. for he

is not of so much worth, unlesse it be as H.S. is twice as much and a

halfe as halfe an As. But value you him how you will, I am sure he

highly valueth himselfe. This fellow, this H.S. reading (for I would

you should knowe he is _a reader and a writer too_) under my last

epistle to the reader J.F. made as familiar a word of F. as if I had

bin his brother. Now Recte fit oculis magister tuis, said an ancient

writer to a much-like reading gramarian-pedante[31]: God save your

eie-sight, sir, or at least your insight. And might not a man, that

can do as much as you (that is, reade) finde as much matter out of

H.S. as you did out of J.F.? As for example H.S. why may it not stand

as well for Hæres Stultitiæ, as for Homo Simplex? or for Hircus

Satiricus, as well as for any of them? And this in Latine, besides

Hedera Seguace, Harpia Subata, Humore Superbo, Hipocrito Simulatore

in Italian. And in English world without end. Huffe Snuffe, Horse

Stealer, Hob Sowter, Hugh Sot, Humphrey Swineshead, Hodge Sowgelder.

Now Master H.S. if this do gaule you, forbeare kicking hereafter, and

in the meane time you may make a plaister of your dried Marjoram. I

have seene in my daies an inscription, harder to finde out the

meaning, and yet easier for a man to picke a better meaning out of

it, if he be not a man of H.S. condition."

It will be noticed that Florio's reflections upon Shakespeare's

breeding, morals, and manners, while couched in coarser terms, are of

the same nature as Chapman's. Ben Jonson,--as shall later be shown,--in

_Every Man out of his Humour_, casts similar slurs at Shakespeare's

provincial origin. It is likely that the friend whose sonnet had been

criticised and who was called a "rymer" by "H.S." was none other than

George Chapman. The fifth _book_ of Shakespeare's Sonnets to the Earl of

Southampton was written against Chapman's advances upon his patron's

favour. In the tenth Sonnet in this _book_, which is numbered as the

38th in Thorpe's arrangement, Shakespeare refers to Chapman as a rhymer

in the lines:

"Be thou the tenth Muse ten times more in worth

Than those old nine which _rhymers_ invocate."

The few records concerning Florio, from which we may derive any idea of

his personal appearance and manner, suggest a very singular

individuality. There was evidently something peculiar about his face; he

was undoubtedly witty and worldly-wise, a braggart, a sycophant, and

somewhat of a buffoon. He was imbued with an exaggerated idea of his own

importance, and possessed of most unblushing assurance. In 1591 he

signed his address "To the Reader," prefixed to his _Second Fruites_,

"Resolute John Florio," a prefix which he persisted thereafter in using

in similar addresses in other publications. In 1600 Sir William

Cornwallis (who at that time had seen Florio's translation of

_Montaigne's Essays_ in MS.) writes of him: "Montaigne now speaks good

English. It is done by a fellow less beholding to nature for his fortune

than wit, yet lesser for his face than fortune. The truth is, he looks

more like a good fellow than a wise man, and yet he is wise beyond

either his fortune or education."

Between the year 1598 (when Florio dedicated his _World of Wordes_ to

the Earl of Southampton) and 1603, when Southampton was released from

the Tower upon the accession of James I., we have no record of Florio's

connection with that nobleman. It was undoubtedly due to Southampton's

influence in the new Court that Florio became reader to Queen Anna and

Gentleman of the Privy Chamber to James I. His native vanity and

arrogance blossomed into full bloom in this connection, in which he

seems to have been tolerated as a sort of superior Court jester. The

extravagant and grandiloquent diction of his early dedications read like

commonplace prose when compared with the inflated verbosity of his later

dedications to Queen Anna. In 1613 he issued a new edition of

_Montaigne's Essays_ which he dedicated to the Queen. A comparison of

the flattering sycophancy of this dedication with the quick transition

of his tone in his curt and insolent address "To the Reader" in the same

book will give some idea of the man's shallow bumptiousness.

"TO THE MOST ROYAL AND RENOWNED MAJESTIE OF THE HIGHBORN PRINCESS

ANNA OF DENMARK

By the grace of God, Queen of England, Scotland, France and Ireland.

Imperial and Incomparable Majestic. Seeing with me all of me is in

your royal possession, and whatever pieces of mine have hitherto

under the starres passed the public view, come now of right to be

under the predomination of a power that both contains all their

perfections and hath influences of a more sublime nature. I could not

but also take in this part (whereof time had worn out the edition)

which the world had long since had of mine and lay it at your sacred

feet as a memorial of my devoted duty, and to show that where I am I

must be all I am and cannot stand dispersed in my observance being

wholly (and therein happy)--Your Sacred Majesties most humble and

Loyal servant,

JOHN FLORIO.

TO THE READER

Enough, if not too much, hath been said of this translation, if the

faults found even by my own selfe in the first impression be now by

the printer corrected, as he was directed, the work is much amended;

if not, know, that through this mine attendance on her Majestic I

could not intend it: and blame not Neptune for thy second shipwrecke.

Let me conclude with this worthy mans daughter of alliance 'Que l'en

semble donc lecteur.'

Still Resolute

JOHN FLORIO,

Gentleman Extraordinary and Groome of the Privy Chamber."

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 29: _Shakespeare and the Rival Poet_, 1903; _Mistress

Davenant, the Dark Lady of Shakespeare's Sonnets_, 1913.]

[Footnote 30: While correcting proof sheets for this book I have found

evidence that Florio was living in Oxford, and already married in

September 1585. The Register of St. Peter's in the Baylie in Oxford

records the baptism of Joane Florio, daughter of John Florio, upon the

24th of September in that year. Wood's _City of Oxford_, vol. iii. p.

258. Ed. by Andrew Clark.]

[Footnote 31: A grammar-school pedant, alluding to Shakespeare's limited

education.]

APPENDIX

I

DEDICATION OF FLORIO'S _SECOND FRUITES_, 1591

TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFULL, THE KINDE ENTERTAINER OF VERTUE, AND MIRROUR

OF A GOOD MINDE MASTER NICHOLAS SAUNDER OF EWEL, ESQUIRE, HIS DEVOTED

JOHN FLORIO CONGRATULATES THE RICH REWARD OF THE ONE, AND LASTING

BEAUTIE OF THE OTHER, AND WISHES ALL FELICITIE ELS

SIR, in this stirring time, and pregnant prime of invention when everie

bramble is fruitefull, when everie mol-hill hath cast of the winters

mourning garment, and when everie man is busilie woorking to feede his

owne fancies; some by delivering to the presse the occurrences &

accidents of the world, newes from the marte, or from the mint, and

newes are the credite of a travailer, and first question of an

Englishman. Some like Alchimists distilling quintessences of wit, that

melt golde to nothing, and yet would make golde of nothing; that make

men in the moone, and catch the moon shine in the water. Some putting on

pyed coates lyke calendars, and hammering upon dialls, taking the

elevation of _Pancridge_ Church (their quotidian walkes) pronosticate of

faire, of foule, and of smelling weather; men weatherwise, that wil by

aches foretell of change and alteration of wether. Some more active

gallants made of a finer molde, by devising how to win their Mistrises

favours, and how to blaze and blanche their passions, with aeglogues,

songs, and sonnets, in pitifull verse or miserable prose, and most for a

fashion: is not Love then a wagg, that makes men so wanton? yet love is

a pretie thing to give unto my Ladie. Othersome with new caracterisings

bepasting al the posts in _London_ to the proofe, and fouling of paper,

in twelve howres thinke to effect _Calabrian_ wonders: is not the number

of twelve wonderfull? Some with Amadysing & Martinising a multitude of

our libertine yonkers with triviall, frivolous, and vaine vaine

droleries, set manie mindes a gadding; could a foole with a feather make

men better sport? I could not chuse but apply my self in some sort to

the season, and either proove a weede in my encrease without profit, or

a wholesome pothearbe in profit without pleasure. If I prove more than I

promise, I will impute it to the bountie of the gracious Soile where my

endevours are planted, whose soveraine vertue divided with such worthles

seedes, hath transformed my unregarded slips to medcinable simples.

Manie sowe corne, and reape thisles; bestow three yeares toyle in

manuring a barraine plot, and have nothing for their labor but their

travel: the reason why, because they leave the low dales, to seeke

thrift in the hill countries; and dig for gold on the top of the Alpes,

when _Esops_ cock found a pearle in a lower place. For me I am none of

their faction, I love not to climbe high to catch shadowes; suficeth

gentle Sir, that your perfections are the Port where my labors must

anchor, whose manie and liberall favours have been so largely extended

unto me, that I have long time studied how I might in some fort

gratefully testifie my thankfulnes unto you. But when I had assembled

all my thoughts, & entred into a contrarious consultation of my utmost

abilities, I could not find anie employment more agreeable to my power,

or better beseeming my dutie, than this present Dedication, whereby the

world, by the instance of your never entermitted benevolence towards me,

should have a perfect insight into your vertue & bountie, (qualities

growne too solitary in this age) and your selfe might be unfallibly

perswaded in what degree I honor and regarde you. For indeede I neither

may in equitie forget, nor in reason conceale the rare curtesies you

vouchsaft me at Oxford, the friendly offers and great liberalitie since

(above my hope and desert) continued at _London_, wherewith you have

fast bound me to beare a dutiful & grateful observance towards you while

I live, & to honour that mind from which as from a spring al your

friendships & goodnes hath flowed: And therefore to give you some paune

and certaine assurance of a thankfull minde, and my professed devotion I

have consecrated these my slender _endevours_ wholy to your _delight_,

which shall stand for an image and monument of your worthines to

posteritie. And though they serve to pleasure and profite manie, yet

shall my selfe reape pleasure, also if they please you well, under whose

name and cognisance they shall goe abroad and seeke their fortunes. How

the world will entertaine them I know not, or what acceptance your

credit may adde to their basenes I am yet uncertaine; but this I dare

vaunt without sparke of vaine-glory that I have given you a taste of the

best Italian fruites, the Thuscane Garden could affoorde; but if the

pallate of some ale or beere mouths be out of taste that they cannot

taste them, let them sporte but not spue. The moone keeps her course for

all the dogges barking. I have for these fruites ransackt and rifled all

the gardens of fame throughout Italie (and they are the Hesperides) if

translated they do prosper as they flourished upon their native stock,

or eate them & they will be sweete, or set them & they will adorne your

orchyards.

The maiden-head of my industrie I yeelded to a noble Mecenas (renoumed

Lecester) the honor of England, whom thogh like Hector every miscreant

Mirmidon dare strik being dead, yet sing _Homer_ or _Virgil_, write

friend or foe, of _Troy_, or _Troyes_ issue, that _Hector_ must have his

desert, the General of his Prince, the Paragon of his Peeres, the

watchman of our peace,

"_Non so se miglior Duce o Cavalliero_"

as _Petrarke_ hath in his triumph of fame; and to conclude, the

supporter of his friends, the terror of his foes, and the _Britton_

Patron of the Muses.

"Dardanias light, and Troyans faithfulst hope."