THEATRICAL ALLUSIONS
ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
PARTS.
Ours be your patience then, and yours our parts.
_Epilogue, line 5._
This word bears quite a respectable age of antiquity in its theatrical
sense, being so used in the year 1495 in a note to the Coventry
Mysteries. “Payd for copying of the 11 Knights partes and demons.” The
meaning refers to the character assigned or sustained by an actor in a
dramatic performance; also the words assigned to or spoken by an actor
in such a character. It also refers to a printed copy of these words:
PLAY.
The King’s a beggar, now the play is done.
_Epilogue, line 1._
TRAGEDIANS.
What say you to his expertness in war?
Faith, sir, had led the drum before the
English tragedians.
IV, 3, 299.
Although the sentence is self explanatory, its meaning puzzled me. The
contemporary drama has no reference to this somewhat primitive method
of advertising. I wrote the following paragraph to _Notes and Queries_,
and received the two replies which are here printed.
FROM _Notes and Queries_.
Shakespereana. All’s Well that Ends Well.
In the “Arden Shakespeare,” which is the only separate edition of this
play that has a full commentary, the important passage, “Has led the
drum before the English tragedians,” is left unnoticed. I am prepared
to wager that not one in a hundred readers of Shakespeare would be
able to interpret it. I am not quite certain of its interpretation,
and therefore I ask your readers to interpret it. I believe it has
reference to the actors who marched through the City accompanied by a
drum to call attention to the play they were about to act.
(Sgnd.) MAURICE JONAS.
REPLIES.
Shakespereana. All’s Well that Ends Well. 10 S. XI. 30.
In reply to the query as to the meaning of the passage, “Has led the
drum before the English tragedians,” I offer the following quotation
from the _European Magazine_ for June, 1788. It refers to the early
history of the drama in Birmingham. In about 1740 a theatre was erected
in Moor Street, which rather gave a spring to the amusement. In the
daytime the comedian beat up for volunteers for the night, delivered
his bills of fare and roared out an encomium on the excellence of the
entertainment. “In 1751 a company arrived which announced themselves
‘His Majesty’s Servants from the Theatres Royal in London,’ and hoped
the public would excuse the ceremony of the drum as beneath the
dignity of a London company.” The novelty had a surprising effect,
the performers had merit, and the house was continually crowded.
It is evident, therefore, that the custom was prevalent long after
Shakespeare’s death. I may add that there is a well-known portrait of
Tarlton, the actor, which represents him with a big or small drum.
(Sgnd.) HOWARD S. PEARSON.
ANOTHER REPLY.
Parolle’s ridicule of Capt. Dumain’s soldiership by saying that “He led
the drum before the English tragedians,” IV, III, 298, may be compared
to Iago’s “That never set a squadron in the field” (Oth. I 1). And
in both of those plays, in the scenes just referred to, the “bookish
theoric” of war is satirized. Parolle’s comparison of Dumain, with the
drummer that preceded a company of strolling players, was probably due
to his knowledge of the importance of the soldier that carried the drum
with his smatter of languages, and what appeared a ridiculous imitation
of the military costume.
The military disliked the players marching to the beats of a drum,
and sometimes, when the players entered a town where soldiers were
quartered, a fight ensued, often ending in a riot. This explanation may
support the point to Parolle’s remark. In III, 41, Parolle’s vexation
at the loss of his drum is not clear from the text, so it is necessary
to add that the colours were attached to the instrument in those times.
(Sgnd.) TOM JONES.
Does Tom Jones, in his reply, convey the idea that an English soldier
marched in front of the actors? This is quite a conjectural assumption,
not a scrap of evidence existing that such was the custom. Since
writing my note I came across an allusion bearing on the subject. This
appears in a letter written by Lord Hunsdon to the Lord Mayor in 1594,
stating that “where my now company of players have been accustomed
for the better exercise of their quality and for the service of her
Majesty if need so require, to play this winter time within the City
at the Cross Keys, in Gracious Street, those are to require and pray
your Lordship to permit and suffer them so to do, the which I pray
you the rather to do for that they have undertaken for me that where
heretofore they began not their plays till towards four o’clock, they
will now begin at two and have done between four and five, and will
not use any drums or trumpets at all for the calling of the people
together, and shall be contributors to the poor of the parish where
they play according their habilities. Halliwell’s Illustrations, p. 31,
of Remembrancia, p. 353, as quoted in Greg’s edition of _Henslowe’s
Diary_.”
In this interesting and important extract nothing is said respecting
the actors marching through the City with a drummer at their head. It
is a well-known fact that three blasts of a trumpet announced that the
play was about to commence. I feel sure something more is known about
this practice, although it does not appear in the usual channels of
information in reference to this period. At a much later date this
custom seems to have prevailed when the actors visited the provinces,
but whether it was customary or only occasional cannot be stated
with any degree of certainty. Unfortunately, so many questions of
Shakesperean interest must be unanswered in a similarly unsatisfactory
manner.
Another question of interest arises from this extract. How comes it
that the company formerly commenced their plays between four and five
even in winter time? The players either acted at a regular theatre or
in an inn-yard, and at both places acting took place in the open air.
The only solution possible is that the actors rented a large room of
one of the inns or taverns and there acted by candlelight, otherwise
beginning at such a late hour cannot be accounted for.
AS YOU LIKE IT
STAGE, PLAYERS, EXITS, ENTRANCES,
PLAYS, PARTS, ACTS, SCENE.
All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages.
Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history.
II, 7, 139.
ENTRANCES.
Entrances is not used as a stage direction. It is employed here in a
special sense of an actor making his appearance on the stage. Exit
denotes the departure of an actor from the stage, and is freely used
in all the printed editions of Shakespeare’s works and in all other
dramatic literature. The plural exeunt is also used in the same sense.
Although exit is written and spoken in its Latin form, the word is
thoroughly naturalised, whilst exeunt is marked in the dictionary as
a foreigner. Man and Manet are also stage directions often to be met
with in the old quarto editions; they signify that the actor or actors
whose name or names follow this direction remain on the stage after the
others have left; later dramatists did not use these terms, and now
they have become obsolete. As the old quartos were not divided into
scenes or acts, these directions generally indicated that the scene or
act was concluded. At the end of a few plays the words “exeunt omnes”
are to be found.
ACTOR.
“Bring us to this sight, and you shall say
I’ll prove a busy actor in their play.”
III, V, 62.
PLAY.
And so he plays his part.
II, 7, 157.
I charge you, O women, for the love you bear to men, to like as much of
this play as please you.
_Epilogue._
I charge you, O men, for the love you bear to women, that between you
and the women the play may please.
_Epilogue._
PROLOGUE.
Shall we clap into ’t roundly, without hawking or spitting or saying we
are hoarse, which are the only prologues to a bad voice.
PLAY.
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part.
II, 7, 157.
CLOWN.
The roughish clown, at whom so oft your grace was wont to laugh at.
II, 1, 8.
Hollow you clown! Peace, fool;
It’s meat and drink for me to see a clown.
V, 1, 12.
EPILOGUE. PLAY.
It is not the fashion to see the lady the epilogue. If it be true that
good wine needs no bush! ’tis true that a good play needs no epilogue,
yet to good wine they do use bushes; and good plays prove the better by
the help of good epilogues. What a case am I in then, that am neither a
good epilogue, nor cannot insinuate you on the behalf of a good play!
PAGEANT.
Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy,
This wide and universal theatre
Presents more woeful pageants than the scene
Wherein we play in.
II, 7, 138.
If you will see a pageant truly play’d.
III, 5, 55.
The general meaning of this word is simply a kind of dumb-show
procession similar to our Lord Mayor’s Show. One of the earliest
meanings of pageant referred to the stage, platform or scaffold on
which such scenes were acted. It is a point of contention whether the
pageant took its name from the structure or _vice versa_. In course
of time, speaking parts were introduced, and then the word became to
be applied indiscriminately to all kinds of plays, such as Mystery,
Miracle, and Morality Plays, which had by the end of the sixteenth
century become obsolete and antiquated.
In the York Miracle Cycle the Ordo Paginorum, the order of the
pageants, is prefixed to the version of the plays. The Order consisted
of different guilds, which took part in the plays represented on Corpus
Christi day in the year 1415.
A subjoined quotation from Sir A. W. Ward’s English Dramatists would
support the view that the pageant was provided with speaking parts
of short duration. “Those pageants, in the generally accepted later
and narrower use of the term, which consisted of moving shows devoid
of either action or dialogue.” In a pageant given at Westminster
Hall, before Henry VIII, an account is extant in which a dialogue is
represented as taking place between the ladies and the ambassadors,
also the sweet and harmonious saying of the Children. It will be
observed that in these passages a germ of dialogue existed which in
later years may have assumed such larger proportions as might justify
these as being alluded to as plays.
EPILOGUE.
An address or short poem recital before the audience after the
conclusion of a play. Rosalind, the heroine of this comedy, delivered
the epilogue. Few dramatists in those days furnished either prologues
or epilogues when writing their plays, but after the Restoration,
when women played the female parts, the custom became universal and
was generally spoken by one of the actresses. Nell Gwynne, when she
acted, usually recited these lines. In many instances the epilogues are
spoken by a person not connected with the play. There exists some doubt
whether Shakespeare wrote the prologues and epilogues prefixed to the
printed edition of his plays, the general custom permitting another
hand adding these verses. Of course the magnificent prologues in “Henry
V” are Shakespeare to the core.
ANTONY AND CLEOPATRA
COMEDIANS. EXTEMPORALLY. REVELS. BOY MY
GREATNESS.
The quick comedians
Extemporally will stage us, and present
Our Alexandrian revels! Antony
shall be brought drunken forth and I shall see
some squeaking Cleopatra boy my greatness.
In the posture of a wanton.
In this celebrated passage many terms are used in connexion with the
theatre. The quick comedians were the lively, quick witted actors who,
by their inventive methods, will produce a play according to the rules
of the _Commedia del’ arte_, which is meant by “extemporally will
stage us.” The meaning of the phrase, some “squeaking Cleopatra will
boy my greatness” will be apparent to every one conversant with the
theatrical history of Shakespeare’s time. At that period of dramatic
history no woman was allowed to appear on the public stage, all female
characters being represented by boys or men, which custom lasted until
the Restoration. It is generally acknowledged that a Mrs. Hughes was
the first woman to act on the public stage, appearing in the character
of Desdemona. This innovation was of the utmost importance, and an
interesting reference was made to this new custom in a specially
written prologue by Thomas Jordan.
“I come unknown to any of the rest
To tell the news I saw the lady drest:
The woman plays the part to-day; mistake me not,
No man in gown or page in petticoat.”
In comparison with former times, the stage must have reaped an enormous
benefit by this change.
“Our women are defective and so sized
You’d think they were some of the guard disguised,
For to speak truth, men act that are between
Forty and fifty, wenches of fifteen
With bone so large and nerve so incompliant,
When you call Desdemona enter giant.”
PAGEANT.
Thou has seen these signs; They are black vesper’s pageants.
IV, 14, 8.
PLAY. SCENE.
Play one scene of excellent dissembley
And let it look like perfect honour.
I, 3, 78.
PUPPET.
Thou, an Egyptian puppet, shall be shown in Rome, as well as I.
V, 2, 208.
STAGED. SHOW.
And be staged to the show against a sworder!
III, 13, 30.
SHOW-PLACE.
In the common show-place, where they exercise.
III, 6, 12.
CYMBELINE
ACT.
What, makest thou me a dullard in this act?
V, 5, 265.
PLAY. PART.
Shall’s have a play of this?
Thou scornful page.
There lie thy part. Striking her, she falls.
V, 5, 228.
“Shall’s” in Elizabethan drama is equivalent to our modern “shall we.”
“There lie thy part,” refers to the part the page shall play by lying
down.
PART. ACT.
That part thou, Pisanio, must act for me.
III, 4, 26.
COMEDY OF ERRORS
JUGGLERS.
They say this town is full of cozenage;
As nimble jugglers that deceive the eye.
I, 2, 98.
In mediæval times Jugglers were frequently to be met with at the Court,
being well received by an admiring audience. Their entertainment
consisted of catching knives, tossing balls and feats of balancing.
Such diversions even at the present day evoke unstinted applause,
especially if practised by a Cinquevalli. The word is derived from the
Latin _joculare_, to jest; the early meaning, which is now obsolete,
denoted one who entertains or amuses people by shows, songs, buffoonery
and tricks. It also bore the meaning of magician, wizard, or sorcerer.
MOUNTEBANK.
A mere anatomy, a mountebank, A threadbare juggler.
V, 1, 239.
A well known character in Shakespeare’s time. This entertainer
performed at street corners, who, from an elevated position, addressed
and amused his audience by means of stories, tricks, juggling and all
forms of quackery, in which he was generally assisted by a professional
clown or fool. Derived from the Italian _Montebanchi_, to mount a bench.
CORIOLANUS
MUMMERS.
If you chance to be pinched with the
colic, you make faces like mummers.
II, 1, 83.
In the fourteenth century, mummings were the customary entertainments
held at the Court on festive occasions. They consisted of men in
masquerade, performing in dumb show, with the addition of dancing. The
word is derived from mum, an articulate sound made with closed lips.
Anyone taking part in these mummings was called a mummer. The meaning
of the word in its slang and contemptuous reference to an actor is
of quite modern date. These mummings or disguisings--both these terms
were used indifferently--continued to be presented until the first
quarter of the sixteenth century, at which date they assumed the name
of masks, and were of a more elaborate nature than the older form of
entertainment, speaking parts being added, which were generally written
in verse. This is the only instance in which Shakespeare uses the word.
ACTING. PART.
It is a part that I shall blush in acting.
II, 2, 149.
ACTOR.
Like a dull actor now, I have forgot my part, and I am out.
V, 3, 40.
SCENE. ACT.
When he might act the woman in the scene, He proved the best man.
II, 2, 100.
The gods look down, and this unnatural scene they laugh at.
V, 3, 184.
PROMPT.
So then the Volsces stand but as at first;
Ready, when time shall prompt them to make road upon’s again.
III, 1, 6.
Come, come, we’ll prompt you.
III, 2, 95.
HAMLET
ACT.
When thou see’st that act afoot,
Even with the very comment of thy soul
Observe mine uncle.
III, 2, 83.
You that look pale and tremble at this chance
That are but mutes or audience to this act.
V, 2, 346.
ACTED.
I heard thee speak a speech once, but it was never acted.
II, 2, 455.
ACTOR.
When Roscius was an actor in Rome, The actors are come hither.
II, 2, 410.
Then came each actor on his ass. The best actors in the world.
II, 2, 416.
HAMLET:
My Lord, you played once i’ the university, you say?
POLONIUS:
That did I, my lord, and was accounted a good actor.
III, 2, 106.
ABRIDGEMENT.
For look, where my abridgement comes.
II, 2, 439.
ARGUMENT.
There was for a while no money bid for argument.
II, 2, 273.
Belike this show imports the argument of the play.
III, 2, 149.
Have you heard the argument? Is there no offence in it?
III, 2, 242.
The argument of a play signified the plot or the subject matter under
discussion. The word in this sense is now obsolete, although much in
use in Elizabethan times, and frequently employed by several dramatists
of the period.
AUDIENCE.
They are but mutes or audience to this act.
V, 2, 398.
CHORUS.
You are as good as a chorus, my lord.
III, 2, 255.
CUE.
What would he do
Had he the motive and the cue for passion
That I have?
III, 2, 587.
TRAGEDY. COMEDY. HISTORY. PASTORAL.
POLONIUS:
The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, comedy,
history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, historical-pastoral;
tragical-historical, tragical-comical-historical-pastoral, scene
individable, or poem unlimited; Seneca cannot be too heavy, not
Plautus too light. For the law of writ and the liberty, these are
the only men.
II, 2, 415.
By the above speech Polonius must have been fairly well acquainted
with the actors, and the repertoire of the tragedians of the city.
The list describing the different styles of composition are somewhat
exaggerated, but not to such an extent as appears at first sight.
Evidence of the lengthy repertory of the Globe can be gleaned from an
extract concerning a licence granted in 1603 to the Globe company.
Permission is given “freely to use the, and exercise the, Arte and
facultie of playing Comedies, Tragedies, Histories, Enterludes,
Moralls, Pastoralls and stage plaies, and such other like.” The phrase
“scene individable” refers to the dramas, scrupulously adhering
to the Unity of Place, a rule so carefully observed by classical
writers. “Poem unlimited” may have expressed the antithesis to scene
individable. The mention of Seneca and Plautus takes us back to the
dramatic writers of antiquity. Seneca’s tragedies were translated into
English and published in 1581. There are many allusions in English
literature to these blood-curdling dramas. Nash, the Elizabethan
dramatist and pamphleteer, thus describes the works of the Latin
author: “Yet English Seneca read by candle-light yields many good
sentences as ‘Blood is a beggar,’ and so forth, and if you entreat him
fair on a frosty morning he will afford you whole Hamlets, I should say
handfuls, of tragical speeches. But o grief _Tempus edax rerum_, what’s
that will last always? The sea exhaled by drops will in continuance be
dry, and Seneca let blood line by line and page by page at length must
needs die to our stage.”
I possess an original edition of Seneca’s work in Latin, printed
at Venice in the year 1498. The volume contains the ten tragedies,
which were rendered into English by Thomas Newton and other writers.
The “Hamlet” here referred to is an older play than Shakespeare’s
“Hamlet,” and presumably written by Thomas Kyd, to which Shakespeare
was immeasurably indebted. Traces of this play may survive in the 1603
quarto of “Hamlet.” The relation of the 1603 quarto of “Hamlet” to the
received text is one of the most puzzling subjects in all Shakesperean
literature. The exact relationship still awaits solution. Plautus was a
Latin dramatist, one of whose plays had been translated into English.
The “Menaechmi” was rendered into the vernacular by William Warner and
published in 1595. The translation acquaints us with the fact that
before publication the play had been circulated in MS. Shakespeare’s
play of the “Comedy of Errors” is founded on Plautus’s comedy. Whether
Shakespeare went direct to the original or copied from Warner or any
other translation cannot be decided. Somewhat puzzling is the question
in discovering the grammatical subject of “these are the only men.”
Does Polonius refer to the law of writ and the liberty or the “best
actors of the world.” “Writ and liberty” bear the same meaning as
“scene individable or poem unlimited.” The phrases may be intended as
a compliment to the poets who were distinguished in both classes of
composition, or perhaps the actors were the only men, who by their
expert knowledge were capable of acting in all kinds of plays, whether
a written composition or extempore plays.
CELLARAGE.
Come on; you hear this fellow in the cellarage.
Consent to sweat.
I, V, 151.
This quotation possibly refers to some kind of contrivance in use
underneath the stage. Trap-doors in the Elizabethan theatre were an
indispensable feature of the stage setting. From the stage of to-day
they have entirely disappeared, with the exception of pantomime, where
they are still much in evidence. The Ghost in “Hamlet” apparently
made his entrance and his exit by one of these trap-doors. Several
dramatists made use of these doors in introducing their characters
upon the stage. The exact spot in which they were situated cannot be
indicated; only in one instance can it be clearly defined. Ben Jonson,
in his Induction to the Poetaster marks the trap-door in the centre
of the stage. One may also have existed in the upper stage, but this
suggestion is quite problematical. Spectators at the Blackfriars
Theatres allowed stools on the stage. Considering that trap-doors were
situated all over the stage, the stool-holders must have had their
allotted space marked off, otherwise they would have interfered with
the stage setting.
DUMB SHOW.
Capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb-shows and noise.
III, 2, 14.
HAUTBOYS PLAY. THE DUMB-SHOW ENTERS.
III, 2, 145.
Enter a King and a Queen very lovingly; the Queen embracing him
and he her. She kneels and makes show of protestation unto him. He
takes her up and reclines his head upon her neck; lays him down
upon a bank of flowers; she, seeing him asleep, leaves him. Anon
comes in a fellow, takes off his crown, kisses it, and pours poison
in the King’s ears, and exit. The Queen returns; finds the King
dead and makes passionate action. The poisoner, with some two or
three Mutes, comes in again, seeming to lament with her. The dead
body is carried away. The Poisoner wooes the Queen with gifts; she
seems loath and unwilling awhile, but in the end accepts, his love.
_Exeunt._
I have quoted the dumb-show scene in full, as only in rare instances
in English dramatic literature is the action of the play foretold by
such means. Why Shakespeare employed this confused method cannot be
conjectured. Surely Hamlet exhibiting, through the dumb-show, how his
father was murdered would naturally put the King upon his guard; the
very thing he sought to avoid. The dumb-show undoubtedly detracts from
the climax of the play-scene, and must be considered a serious blunder
on the part of the dramatist in having introduced this artless and
old-fashioned piece of machinery. The commentators give no valid excuse
for its introduction. Halliwell-Phillipps makes the silly suggestion
that the King and Queen should be whispering together during the scene,
and so escape seeing it. A more ridiculous note by a great Shakesperean
scholar has never been printed.
ENACT.
What did you enact? I did enact
Julius Cæsar, I was killed in the Capitol.
Brutus killed me.
III, 2, 107.
Besides writing a play called “Julius Cæsar,” Shakespeare introduces
his name on several occasions; apparently he was one of the poet’s
favourite characters. I am afraid Shakespeare did not verify his
quotations; many simple errors occur through Shakespeare copying them
from other authors, whilst the critics, from sheer ignorance, always
lay them on Shakespeare’s shoulders, thus making him the scapegoat
for other’s mistakes. Of course, from the point of view of modern
scholarship, it is a grave error in placing Cæsar’s assassination in
the Capitol; Plutarch expressly states that Cæsar met his death at
Pompey’s portico, where a statue of his famous rival stood in the
centre. The dramatist was on the right track when Marc Antony, in his
oration, describes the place where Cæsar fell:
“Then burst his mighty heart,
And in his mantle, muffling up his face,
Even at the base of Pompey’s statue,
Which all the while ran blood, great Cæsar fell.”
Julius Cæsar was murdered in the “Curia,” Pompey near the theatre of
Pompey, in the Campus Martius. Chaucer commits the same blunder in
believing that Cæsar was stabbed in the Capitol. In Shakespeare’s play
of “Julius Cæsar” the same error was repeated. An ancient statue,
which was discovered in 1553 and now stands in the Sala dell’ Udianza
of the Spada Palace at Rome, may be the identical statue of Pompey,
at the base of which great Cæsar fell. Plutarch relates how at the
very base where Pompey’s statue stood, which ran all gore blood, till
he was slain. Plutarch’s celebrated lives of the Grecians and Romans
was translated into English by Thomas North in 1579, from the French
version of Jacques Amyot, first printed in 1559. Four editions were
issued before North made his translation without studying the text
very minutely, a difficulty arises in determining which edition North
used. This book was Shakespeare’s constant companion, and many of
North’s vigorous prose passages are turned into verse with very little
alteration. This volume was in the library of Molière’s mother, and
was frequently consulted by the great French comic poet. The author
was in great vogue during the sixteenth, seventeenth and eighteenth
centuries, and it may well be considered the most popular book of those
times among educated people. During the last hundred years the work has
lost much of its popularity, few people of the present day having read
it. I doubt if many who profess themselves readers of good literature
know the author, even by name. So much for our educational system. I
possess a copy of the first Greek edition, dated 1517, formerly in
the possession of the Duke of Sussex; besides the rare first French
edition, 1559, which I recently purchased from the catalogue of a lady
provincial bookseller.
GROUNDLINGS.
To split the ears of the groundlings, who
for the most part are capable of nothing
but inexplicable dumb-shows and noise.
III, II, 12.
That part of the theatre, corresponding to our pit, was called the
yard, and the spectators who stood in the enclosure were dubbed
groundlings, the word being associated with the general sense of
ground. “Your groundlings and gallery-commoner buys his sport by the
penny.” The price of admission to this part of a public theatre, such
as the Globe, was one penny. At the Blackfriars, a private theatre,
there was no open yard. In Jonson’s play of “The Case is Altered”
one of the characters explains: “Tut, give me the penny, give me the
penny. I care not for the gentleman, I, let me have good ground.”
The same dramatist, in another play, designates these spectators as
the understanding gentlemen of the ground. Judging by contemporary
accounts, the yard was the most uncomfortable place for enjoying the
performance, the enclosure was bare of any sitting accommodation,
neither was there any flooring, being generally overcrowded; there
was no room for stools. Notwithstanding these disadvantages, the
people flocked to this part of the theatre, which, at most of the
public theatres, held about a thousand spectators. In proof of this
statement I will quote some verses from Marlowe’s Epigrams and Elegies,
translated from Ovid’s _Amores_:
“For as we see
The playhouse doors
When ended is the play, the dance and song,
A thousand townsmen, gentlemen and wantons,
Porters and serving men, together throng.”
These lines were published circa 1596, and have never been quoted
before in reference to the stage, and I regard them, on my part, in
the light of a discovery. When every nook and cranny of Elizabethan
literature has been diligently ransacked in quest of materials for
illuminating theatrical matters, it is all the more surprising that
this passage should have been overlooked. The reason may be that in
this poem some of the verses were too highly coloured for respectable
literary folk, but in spite of this obstacle I considered it my duty
as a student to read the book diligently from page to page in hopes
of finding some reference to the early stage, and in this instance I
was amply rewarded. This volume of amorous verses was one of the books
condemned to be burnt at Canterbury by Archbishop Whitgift in 1599. By
a strange coincidence, the original of this volume was banned from the
public libraries by order of the Emperor Augustus.
HOBBY HORSE.
For O, for O, the hobby-horse is forgot.
III, 2, 144.
Although only distantly connected with the stage, the mention of this
well-known feature in the May games proves that Shakespeare was well
versed in all matters connected with the festivities of the village
homes. The hobby-horse was one of the principal actors, taking part in
the Morris Dance, this dance being considered the chief attraction of
the May games. Hobby was originally the name of a small horse chiefly
of Irish breed; when figuring in the festivities under this name it was
represented by a paste board painted figure of a horse, attached to a
frame of wicker wood or other light material, and was fastened round
the waist of a man, his own legs, going through the body of the horse,
were concealed by a long foot-cloth, thus enabling him to walk unseen,
while false legs appeared where those of the man should have been, at
the sides of the horse. Thus equipped, he executed various antics in
imitation of a skittish high-spirited animal. The name of the performer
was also called the hobby-horse. The phrase is now obsolete, but the
word hobby is now associated with the occupation of collecting various
works of art or trivial things, which is compared to the riding of a
toy horse. The present quotation may be a line now lost from an old
ballad, in which the omission of the hobby-horse from the May games
was the principal theme. The figure of a man riding a hobby-horse
is depicted on a glass window at Betley Church, Staffordshire. This
identical sentence is often mentioned in Elizabethan literature, which
would indicate that at this period it had ceased to form a part of
the rustic games. As an instance showing the disfavour into which the
hobby-horse had fallen, Hope-on-high Bomby, a character in “A Woman
Pleased,” by Beaumont and Fletcher, throws off his hobby-horse and
will no more engage in the Morris Dance. Last summer I witnessed some
very interesting Morris Dances performed on the Green in the Hampstead
Garden Suburb, but was disappointed in not seeing the hobby-horse. “For
O, For O, the hobby-horse is forgot,” I exclaimed in a loud voice, but
no one heeded me, and the dances continued.
JIG.
Prithee, say on, he’s for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or else
he sleeps.
II, 2, 522.
This is the only instance in which Shakespeare uses the word in its
connexion with the dramatic history of the stage. In this sense the
word is now obsolete. Until quite lately, no specimen of this form of
dramatic literature was extant, yet the early commentators were fully
aware of its existence. Very little trustworthy evidence for this class
of literary diversion is procurable, but several early references
clearly indicate that such fare was usually provided at the public
theatres. The jig was a dramatic sketch or ballad drama, of a light
or farcical character, written to dance music and accompanied in most
instances to dance action. The piece that has survived is without this
lasting accessory. The actors in these sketches were chosen from those
that played the clowns and comic characters in the regular drama. An
idea of the nature of these one-act plays may be imagined by comparing
them to the rollicking farces which generally concluded the programme
in our theatres in Victorian times. The only extant jig, which has
recently been discovered, has been printed in the collection of
Shirburn ballads, and edited with much profound learning by Mr. Andrew
Clark. The playlet is entitled:
“Mr. Attwell’s Jigge
betweene
Francis. A Gentleman.
Richard. A Farmer
and their wives.”
The sketch is divided into four acts, each one accompanied to a
different tune. The first to the tune of “Walsingham,” the second
“The Jewish Bride,” the third to “Buggle-boe,” and the fourth to
“Goe from my Window.” This last tune was familiar in Scotland early
in Elizabeth’s reign. The first act introduces to us the plot of
the piece: the gentleman, who makes love to the farmer’s wife. When
her husband returns, she tells him of the gentleman’s intentions;
thereupon they concoct a plot to entrap the would-be lover, and inform
the gentleman’s wife of his intrigue. In the end the gentleman makes
love to his own wife in the belief that she is the farmer’s wife.
When he discovers his mistake he is forgiven and all ends happily. We
may readily assume that many such pieces still exist in manuscript
which have not yet come to light. We owe a debt to Mr. Clark for
having published this highly interesting example, illustrating a
popular theatrical amusement of the Tudor period. The Spanish dramas
of this date also had their jigs, which were called “bayles,” always
accompanied by words, either sung or recited, and, of course, by
dancing.
LINES.
But if you mouth it, as many of your players do,
I had as lief the town crier spoke my lines.
III, 2, 4.
These lines refer to the delivery of the speech, inserted by Hamlet
in the play scene. Apparently Shakespeare did not appreciate this
boisterous school of acting, which was of a pompous oratorical style,
uttering the words with great distinctness of articulation, amounting
almost to affectation; in brief, a species of ranting. In poetry,
verses are termed lines. Milton, in his ode to Shakespeare, prefixed to
the Second Folio, 1632, writes:
“... and that each part
Hath from the leaves of thy unvalued Book
Those Delphic lines with deep impression took.”
“Unvalued” in the above quotation is here used for our modern word
“invaluable.” Shakespeare uses the word in both its ancient and modern
definitions, namely, “Inestimable stones, unvalued Jewels,” in “Richard
III,” and once in “Hamlet,” “He may not as unvalued persons do Carve
for himself.”
An actor of to-day still refers to the words of his part as his lines.
A further instance of ranting occurs in Churchill’s “Roliad,” where he
speaks disparagingly of an actor in the following couplet:
He mouths a sentence
As a cur mouths a bone.
Shakespeare himself refers to his “untutored lines” in the dedication
of “Lucrece” to the Earl of Southampton.
PART.
The humourous-man shall end his part in peace.
II, 2, 336.
In this passage the “humourous man” has no connection with the funny
or comical character in our present day melodramas. The meaning in
this latter sense is first used at the end of the seventeenth century.
The Shakesperean sense was moody, peevish, or capricious, ever ready
in entering into a quarrel, and represented by such characters as
Mercutio, Jacques, and Faulconbridge.
PLAY.
He that plays the King shall be welcome.
II, 2, 332.
The play I remember pleased not the million.
II, 2, 456.
An excellent play well digested in the scenes.
II, 2, 46.
We’ll hear a play to-morrow. Dost thou hear me?
Old friend, can you play the murder of Gonzago?
II, 2, 56.
I have heard that guilty creatures sitting at a play
Have, by the very cunning of the scene,
Been struck so to the soul, that presently
They have proclaimed their malefactions.
II, 2, 618.
I’ll have these players
Play something like the murder of my father.
II, 2, 624.
The play’s the thing
Wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the king.
II, 2, 663.
They have already order
This night to play before him.
III, 1, 21.
After the play
Let the queen mother alone entreat him.
III, 1, 189.
O, there be players that I have seen play.
III, 2, 33.
Let those that play your clowns speak no more than is set down for
them.
III, 2, 43.
Though, in the meantime, some necessary question of the play be
then to be considered.
III, 2, 47.
There is a play to-night before the king.
III, 2, 80.
If I steal ought whilst the play is playing
And ’scape detecting, I will pay the theft.
III, 2, 93.
They are coming to the play I must be idle.
III, 2, 98.
Belike this show imports the argument of the play.
III, 2, 150.
You are naught, you are naught, I’ll mark the play.
III, 2, 158.
Madam, how like you the play?
III, 2, 239.
What do you call the play? The Mouse trap.
III, 2, 246.
The play is the image of a murder done in Vienna.
III, 2, 265.
Give o’er the play. Give me some light, Away.
III, 2, 279.
Ere I could make a prologue to my brains
They had begun the play.
V, 2, 31.
PLAYED.
My lord, you played once i’ the university, you say.
III, 2, 104.
PLAYER.
What lenten entertainment the players shall receive from you.
II, 2, 329.
What players are they? Even those you were wont
to take such delight in, the tragedians of the city.
II, 2, 365.
Unless the poet and the player went to cuffs in the question.
II, 2, 373.
There are the players.
You are welcome to Elsinore.
II, 2, 386.
Lest my extent to the players should more appear like entertainment
than yours.
II, 2, 391.
I will prophesy he comes to tell me of the players.
II, 2, 406.
Will you see the players well bestowed.
II, 2, 547.
Is it not monstrous that this player here
But in a fiction in a dream of passion
Could force his soul so to his own conceit.
II, 2, 577.
I’ll have these players
Play something like the murder of my father.
II, 2, 623.
It so fell out that certain players
We o’er-raught in the way.
III, 1, 16.
If you mouth it as many of your players do.
I had as lief the town crier spoke my lines.
III, 2, 3.
O, there be players that I have seen play.
III, 3, 32.
Bid the players make haste.
III, 2, 54.
Be the players ready.
III, 2, 111.
The players cannot keep counsel, they tell all.
III, 2, 162.
Will not this--get me a fellowship in a cry of players.
III, 2, 289.
PLAYING.
Anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing.
III, 2, 23.
If he steal aught whilst the play is playing.
III, 2, 93.
PROLOGUE.
And prologue to the omen coming on.
I, 1, 123.
Is this a prologue or the posy of a ring.
III, 2, 123.
Ere I could make a prologue to my brains
They had begun the play.
V, 2, 30.
QUALITY.
Will they pursue the quality no longer than they can sing?
II, 2, 268.
We’ll have a speech straight, come give us a taste of your quality,
come a passionate speech.
III, 2, 451.
In Shakespeare’s time the word was used technically, as applying to the
profession of acting; in this sense the word is now obsolete. “Players,
I love ye and your quality,” is a quotation from Davies’ “Microcosm,”
1603.
SCENE.
Scene individable or poem unlimited.
II, 2, 418.
An excellent play well digested in the scenes.
II, 2, 418.
Have by the very cunning of the scene.
II, 2, 619.
One scene of it comes near the circumstance
Which I have told thee of my father’s death.
III, 2, 81.
SHOW.
Belike this show imports the argument of the play.
III, 2, 149.
Will he tell us what this show meant.
III, 2, 153.
The word show in both these passages refers to the dumb-show which
caused Ophelia to make these remarks. Although in modern slang the word
show is used in connexion with a dramatic entertainment, this meaning
did not exist in Shakespeare’s time: its only meaning in a theatrical
sense, in the sixteenth century was of a spectacular nature, such as
pageants, masques or processions on a large scale.
STAGE.
These are now the fashion and so berattle the common stages.
II, 2, 358.
He would drown the stage with tears.
II, 2, 588.
TRAGEDIAN.
Those who were wont to take such delight in the tragedians of the
city.
II, 2, 324.
TRAGEDY.
The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, comedy, history.
II, 2, 416.
For us and for our tragedy.
III, 2, 159.
TRAGICAL.
Tragical, historical, tragical comical, historical pastoral.
II, 2, 417.
VICE.
A vice of kings.
A king of shreds and patches.
III, IV, 98.
The vice in the old morality was usually of a humourous and malicious
character, deriving his name from the vicious qualities attributed to
him in the old morality plays. His nature was wholly mischievous, and
this trait permeated his entire being. The vice was generally dressed
in a fool’s habit, hence the further reference to a king of shreds
and patches. One of the meanings of patch is a piece of cloth sewed
together, with others of varying shape and size and colour to form
patchwork or adorn a garment. Shakespeare having previously alluded to
the vice or fool, by association of ideas refers in a few lines later
to his many-coloured garment.
HAMLET.
Why did you laugh then, when I said “man delights not me?”
ROSENCRANTZ.
To think, my lord, if you delight not in man what lenten
entertainment the players shall receive from you. We coted them on
the way, and hither are they coming, to offer you service.
HAM.
He that plays the king shall be welcome; his Majesty shall have
tribute of me; the adventurous knight shall use his foil and
target; the lover shall not sigh gratis; the humourous man shall
end his part in peace; the clown shall make those laugh whose lungs
are tickle o’ the sere, and the lady shall say her mind freely, or
the blank verse shall halt for’t. What players are they?
ROS.
Even those you were wont to take such delight in, the tragedians of
the city.
HAM.
How chances it they travel? Their residence, both in reputation and
profit, was better both ways.
ROS.
I think their inhibition comes by the means of the late innovation.
HAM.
Do they hold the same estimation they did when I was in the city?
Are they so followed?
ROS.
No, indeed they are not.
HAM.
How comes it? Do they grow rusty?
ROS.
Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonter place; but there is, sir,
an eyrie of children, little eyeases, that cry out on the top of
question and are most tyranically clapped for ’t. These are now the
fashion, and so berattle the common stages--so they call them--that
many wearing rapiers are afraid of goose-quills, and dare scarce
come thither.
HAM.
What, are they children? Who maintains ’em? How are they escorted?
Will they pursue the quality no longer than they can sing? Will
they not say afterwards, if they should grow themselves to common
players--as it is most like, if their means are no better, their
writers do them wrong, to make them exclaim against their own
succession.
ROS.
Faith, there has been much to do on both sides, and the nation
holds it no sin to tarre them to controversy; there was for a while
no money bid for argument unless the poet and the player went to
cuffs in the question.
HAM.
Is’t possible?
GUILDENSTERN.
O, there has been much throwing about of brains.
HAM.
Do the boys carry it away?
ROS.
Ay, that they do, my lord. Hercules and his load, too.
This passage is particularly interesting to Shakesperean students,
introducing as it does one of those veiled allusions to the
contemporary stage, under the cloak of carrying on the ordinary
dialogues of the play. The most unobservant reader will notice that
this conversation in no way furthers the action of the play, and
was simply brought in on a set purpose to interest the spectators
in certain theatrical events of the day. Shakespeare, frequently in
his dramas, refers to topical events which were quite clear to his
audience, but in the course of ages the allusions were forgotten, and
now only have a shadowy existence. A few commentators still squabble
over these so-called references, in most instances failing to see any
contemporary event embedded in the text, while others would discover
contemporary allusions throughout a great majority of the plays. These
topical references must be treated sensibly and logically; the safest
plan is to completely ignore them without ample evidence is forthcoming
of their real existence, otherwise it will surely lead the commentator
into various pitfalls. Weaving imaginary theories out of these
passages, which many editors of the past most delight in, is simplicity
itself, but the modern reader very justly demands conclusive evidence
before giving credence to these wild assumptions. In the above passage
there can hardly exist a doubt that some stage event of the day is here
discussed; the difficulty is to pluck out the heart of the mystery in
the words “inhibition” and “innovation.” Although the scene is laid
in Denmark, every reader will surely understand that Shakespeare is
referring to the stage in London. By the tragedians of the city his
own audience would be quick in detecting a reference to the celebrated
actors of the Globe Theatre, which included the famous Richard Burbage,
the creator of Hamlet and many other leading Shakesperean characters.
In the query “how chances it they travel,” there is a reference to the
custom of the London companies making their provincial tours. These
tours were organized when the London theatres were closed, occurring
chiefly through the raging of the plague, or want of funds necessary
in carrying out a London season, or by some drastic measure imposed
by certain authorities. One fact is certain, every company, whether
successful or unsuccessful, made these regular provincial tours,
evidence of which is abundant, and can be found in the archives of the
principal towns in England.
By Hamlet’s question it would appear that only unsuccessful companies
quitted the Metropolis, but on that point I can offer no satisfactory
answer, except that Shakespeare in this passage was not alluding to the
custom of the theatrical profession of his own times which, I think
most readers will agree with me, is most unlikely.
The next quotation presents even greater difficulties. “I think their
inhibition comes by the means of the late innovation.” To anyone
unacquainted with the theatrical practices of the Elizabethan times,
this passage is altogether meaningless, even those possessing the
requisite knowledge, the exact interpretation can only be dimly
surmised. That there was some definite allusion to some theatrical
event of the day, which the audience clearly understood is certain,
otherwise the passage would have been explained in a further
conversation. Now our duty is to pierce this Cimmerian darkness by
discovering the true history of this inhibition, likewise the origin of
the innovation. The word inhibition refers to the act of inhibiting or
forbidding, a prohibition formally issued by a person or body possessed
of civil authority. Innovation means the action of innovating or the
introduction of novelties. A change made in the nature or fashion of
anything. Something newly introduced, a novel practice or method. Armed
with these dictionary explanations we can now proceed in applying them
to the present passage.
If we might take a liberty with the text and follow Dr. Johnson’s
emendation, we immediately get rid of one of the difficulties. Dr.
Johnson proposed to transpose the order of the words to read: “I
think their innovation comes by the means of the late inhibition.” By
this simple expedient innovation would refer to their new practice of
strolling and the inhibition to the cause of it.
In my opinion this new reading is a most ingenious correction, and if
adopted would remove the difficulty of making Hamlet grasp immediately
the cause of the innovation which was certainly unknown to him. By
explaining innovation as referring to their travelling or strolling,
and inhibition as a command to quit the Metropolis, for some offence,
the answer appears satisfactory and needs no further elucidation.
But this tampering with the text is high treason in the Shakesperean
sense, and other solutions more in conformity with the rules of the
game must be suggested. It is just possible that the word inhibition
is a corruption due to the compositor mishearing the word exhibition,
meaning that the players were exhibiting themselves in the country for
some offence or other.
Theobald, the greatest of all Shakesperean commentators, suggested the
word itineration, clearly indicating that he thought the word was a
corruption.
The city and local authorities frequently prohibited the actors from
playing in their theatres; sometimes refusing permission on account
of the plague, on other occasions for disturbances caused by the
gathering of a large concourse of people, more often by their prejudice
and utter dislike of all theatrical performances. Any light pretext
was sufficient to order an inhibition. In this particular instance
it is difficult to account for any inhibition by the authorities.
The innovation certainly referred to the competition of the child
performers, although in Shakespeare’s time it was no innovation, the
children having acted for many years previously. The Blackfriars
Theatre was given up to the Children of the Queen’s Revels and the
Children of the Royal Chapel and other boy companies, which the Queen
encouraged not only by her presence at the Blackfriars Theatre but by
allowing them several privileges. The Children of St. Paul’s were also
a rival company, and acted with great applause, several dramatists of
eminence writing plays for them as well as for the Blackfriars brigade.
Hamlet bitterly laments these innovations, for which he has my hearty
approval, the child performer on the stage or in the drawing room being
my _bête noire_. Shakespeare’s sympathies being entirely on behalf of
the men players. Other causes for the closing of the theatres were the
custom of introducing matters of state and religion upon the stage,
for which cause the Admiral and the Strange companies were severely
censured and, no doubt, obliged to retire for a season. Personal abuse
was also rampant, and led to the war of the theatres, a controversy
carried on with much bitterness on all sides. Satirizing living persons
and impersonating their peculiarities was another feature of the stage,
which caused the imprisonment of Nash, the well-known dramatist. Lord
Strange’s company got into a great scrape for playing the deposition
scene in “Richard the Second,” much to the annoyance and anger of the
Queen, at the time of the Essex rebellion. The Queen is reported to
have said, “Know ye not that I am Richard the Second?” For this offence
they were debarred from acting at Court, and also in London. During
their prohibition they acted in the provinces, but it is hardly likely
that Shakespeare would refer to his own company as being in disgrace.
I only cite these instances as showing the theatrical customs of the
day, and incidentally throwing light on the topical allusion in this
passage. Attentive readers of Shakespeare’s works will in course of
their perusal come across several of these tantalizing references,
which are all the more interesting on account of the difficulty in
solving them. Many a passage which runs so smoothly in the modern
text owes its simplicity to the untiring efforts and scholarship of
previous editors. One such editor, the famous Theobald, was a genius
in restoring the true reading out of a mass of corruption in which he
found the text, also in interpreting for later generations out of the
way classical allusions and ancient customs. Some of his restorations
and interpretations can only be considered as inspired, and all
Shakesperean students should revere his memory. Without the aid of
Theobald hundreds of passages would still have remained unintelligible,
and Shakespeare himself owes him a debt of gratitude.
COMMON PLAYERS.
John Stephens, in his _Essays and Characters_, 1615, thus describes
a common player: “Therefore did I prefix an epithet of ‘common’ to
distinguish the base and artlesse appendants of our city companies,
which oftentimes start away into rusticall wanderers and then, like
Proteus, start back again into the citty number.”
HAMLET’S ADVICE TO THE PLAYERS.
III, 2.
HAM.
Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you, trippingly
on the tongue; but if you mouth it, as many of your players do, I
had as lief the town crier spoke my lines. Nor do not saw the air
too much, with your hand, thus; but use all gently; for in the very
torrent, tempest, and as I may say, whirlwind of your passion, you
must acquire and beget a temperance, that may give it smoothness.
O, it offends me to the wound to hear a robustious periwig-pated
fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears
of the groundlings, who, for the most part, are capable of nothing
but inexplicable dumb-shows and noise. I would have such a fellow
whipped for o’erdoing Termagant; it out-herods Herod; pray you,
avoid it.
FIRST PLAYER.
I warrant your honour.
HAM.
Be not too tame neither, but let your discretion be your tutor;
suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with this
special observance that you o’erstep not the modesty of nature,
for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing, whose
end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as ’twere,
the mirror up to nature; to show virtue her own feature, scorn
her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and
pressure. Now this overdone, or come tardy off, though it makes the
unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the censure
of the which one must in your allowance o’erweigh a whole theatre
of others. Oh, there be players that I have seen play, and heard
others praise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely, that
neither having the accent of Christians, nor the gait of Christian,
pagan, nor man, have so strutted and bellowed that I have thought
some of nature’s journeymen had made men and not made them well,
they imitated humanity so abominably.
FIRST PLAY.
I hope we have reformed that indifferently with us, sir.
HAM.
Oh, reform it altogether. And let those that play your clowns speak
no more than is set down for them, for there be of them that will
themselves laugh, to set on some quantity of barren spectators to
laugh too, though in the meantime some necessary question of the
play be then to be considered; that’s villanous, and shows a most
pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it.
In this passage the whole art of the actor is set down for all time.
Only a practised and enthusiastic actor, who in reality was in love
with his profession, and who saw the educating force and dignity of
his calling, could have drawn up such an ennobling picture of the
responsibility entrusted to the impersonators of the characters,
who embodied the abstract and brief chronicles of the time. Voice,
gesture, deportment, the actor’s indispensable gifts, are all in due
proportion given prominence, nothing is forgotten, so that the mimic
representative shall be as perfect as the exigencies of the stage will
allow.
A copy of these rules should be hung up in every theatre of the land,
so that the actor should be impressed with the dignity and elevating
powers of his profession. There be players that I have seen who would
have well profited by reading this passage before setting foot on the
stage. It was not only in Shakespeare’s days that reformation was
needed: how often in our days is a well-written part mangled out of
recognition by the slovenliness and stupidity of the impersonator.
Study this speech, and, if you are in danger of forgetting it, study it
again; it is the very alpha and omega of your great art. Shakespeare’s
motive in assigning this speech to Hamlet may be for the better
instruction of the actor in delivering the dozen or sixteen lines,
which Hamlet inserted in the play of Gonzago’s murder. “But if you
mouth, as many of your players do, I had as lief the town crier spoke
my lines.” Considering that Hamlet was collaborating in the play, which
was to be played before the King and Queen he was naturally interested
in its production. On the other hand, it seems rather presumptuous for
an amateur to dictate to a professional how a play should be acted,
especially in this instance, when Hamlet had already tested the quality
of the actor by hearing his recital of a scene out of Æneas’ tale of
Dido, which he afterwards criticised, eulogising the admirable manner
in which the player had acquitted himself. When witnessed on the stage
these trifling discrepancies pass unnoticed, but in the study, when the
plays are submitted to a microscopical examination, the inexactitudes
make us reflect, and in the cold light of reason accuse Shakespeare of
being a careless writer.
THE MURDER OF GONZAGO.
HAM.
Dost thou hear me, old friend; can you play the “Murder of Gonzago?”
FIRST PLAY.
Ay, my lord.
HAM.
We’ll ha’t to-morrow night. You could, for a need, study a speech
of some dozen or sixteen lines, which I would set down and insert
in ’t. Could you not?
FIRST PLAY.
Ay, my lord.
I have read most of the tales of the Italian novelists, but can find
nothing answering to the description of the “Murder of Gonzago.”
Hamlet refers in a later part of the play to the murder having been
committed in Vienna. Gonzago is the duke’s name, his wife’s Baptista.
In the dumb-show Gonzago is the King and Baptista the Queen, but in
the dialogue they are named Duke and Duchess, a trivial oversight, due
either to haste or carelessness; many such slight inaccuracies are
found throughout Shakespeare’s works. The historians of Urbino mention
a Duke of that state married to a Gonzago. Professor Dowden relates
that this Duke was murdered in the same manner as the king in the
dumb-show. He gives no reference for this statement. The Duke referred
to was renowned for the splendour of his Court, also for his patronage
of learning and the fine arts. He married Elizabeth Gonzago, the
beautiful and accomplished daughter of Gonzago, Lord of Mantua. This
Duke of Urbino was created a Knight of the Garter by Edward the Fourth;
he died quite peacefully in 1508. I feel almost positive a story
existed in which the details correspond to the action in the dumb-show.
When Hamlet asks the first actor if he remembers the speech of Æneas’
tale to Dido all the critics thought that Shakespeare had invented
the speech, but afterwards an unfinished play by Marlowe, completed
by Nash, was discovered; it was entitled “Dido, Queen of Carthage.” A
paraphrase of Marlowe’s lines is contained in Shakespeare’s version.
Possibly some day we may discover the original story of the Murder of
Gonzago.
You could for a need study a speech of some dozen
or sixteen lines.
II, 2, 560.
Enter a King and a Queen very lovingly; the Queen embracing him and
he her. She kneels, and makes show of protestation unto him. He
takes her up, and declines his head upon her neck; lays him down
upon a bank of flowers; she, seeing him asleep, leaves him. Anon
comes in a fellow, takes off his crown, kisses it, and pours poison
in the King’s ears, and exit. The Queen returns; finds the King
dead, and makes passionate action. The Poisoner, with some two or
three Mutes, comes in again, seeming to lament with her. The dead
body is carried away. The Poisoner wooes the Queen with gifts; she
seems loath and unwilling awhile, but in the end accepts his love.
OPH.
What means this, my lord?
HAM.
Marry, this is miching mallecho; it means mischief.
OPH.
Belike this show imports the argument of the play?
(_Enter Prologue._)
HAM.
We shall know by this fellow; the players cannot keep counsel;
they’ll tell all.
OPH.
Will he tell us what this show meant?
HAM.
Ay, or any show that you’ll show him; be not you ashamed to show,
he’ll not shame to tell you what it means.
OPH.
You are naught, you are naught; I’ll mark the play.
PRO.
For, us and for our tragedy
Here stooping to your clemency,
We beg your hearing patiently.
HAM.
Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring?
OPH.
’Tis brief, my lord.
HAM.
As woman’s love.
(_Enter two Players, King and Queen._)
P. KING.
Full thirty times hath Phœbus’ cart gone round
Neptune’s salt wash and Tellus’ orbed ground,
And thirty dozen moons with borrow’d sheen
About the world have times twelve thirties been,
Since love our hearts and Hymen did our hands
Unite commutual in most sacred bands.
P. QUEEN.
So many journeys may the sun and moon
Make us again count o’er ere love be done!
But, woe is me! you are so sick of late,
So far from cheer and from your former state,
That I distrust you. Yet, though I distrust,
Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must;
For women’s fear and love holds quantity
In neither aught, or in extremity.
Now, what my love is, proof hath made you know,
And as my love is sized, my fear is so;
Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear,
Where little fears grow great, great love grows there.
P. KING.
Faith, I must leave thee, love, and shortly too;
My operant powers their functions leave to do;
And thou shalt live in this fair world behind,
Honour’d, beloved; and haply one as king
For husband shalt thou ----.
P. QUEEN.
Oh, confound the rest!
Such love must needs be treason in my breast;
In second husband let me be accurst!
None wed the second but who kill’d the first.
HAM (_Aside_).
Wormwood, wormwood!
P. QUEEN.
The instances that second marriage move
Are base respects of thrift, but none of love;
A second time I kill my husband dead,
Then second husband kisses me in bed.
P. KING.
I do believe you think what now you speak,
But what we do determine oft we break.
Purpose is but the slave to memory,
Of violent birth but poor validity;
Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree,
But fall unshaken when they mellow be.
Most necessary ’tis that we forget
To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt;
What to ourselves in passion we propose,
The passion ending, doth the purpose lose.
The violence of either grief or joy
Their own enactures with themselves destroy;
Where joy most revels grief doth most lament;
Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident.
This world is not for aye, nor ’tis not strange
That even our loves should with our fortunes change
For ’tis a question left us yet to prove,
Whether love lead fortune or else fortune love.
The great man down, you mark his favourite flies;
The poor advanced makes friends of enemies;
And hitherto doth love on fortune tend;
For who not needs shall never lack a friend;
And who in want a hollow friend doth try
Directly seasons him his enemy.
But, orderly to end where I begun,
Our wills and fates do so contrary run
That our devices still are overthrown,
Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own;
So think thou wilt no second husband wed,
But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead.
P. QUEEN.
Nor earth to me give food nor heaven light!
Sport and repose lock from me day and night!
To desperation turn my trust and hope!
An anchor’s cheer in prison be my scope!
Each opposite, that blanks the face of joy,
Meet what I would have well and it destroy!
Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife,
If, once a widow, ever I be wife!
HAM.
If she should break it now!
P. KING.
’Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here awhile;
My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile
The tedious day with sleep.
P. QUEEN.
Sleep rock thy brain;
And never come mischance between us twain!
(_Exit_).
HAM.
Madam, how like you this play?
QUEEN.
The lady doth protest too much, methinks.
HAM.
O, but she’ll keep her word.
KING.
Have you heard the argument? Is there no offence in ’t?
HAM.
No, no; they do but jest, poison in jest; no offence the world.
KING.
What do you call the play?
HAM.
The Mouse-trap. Marry, how? Tropically. This play is the image of
a murder done in Vienna; Gonzago is the duke’s name; his wife’s,
Baptista: You shall see anon; ’tis a knavish piece of work; but
what o’ that? your majesty, and we that have free souls, it touches
us not; let the galled jade wince, our withers are unwrung.
(_Enter Player, as Lucianus._)
(_This is one Lucianus, nephew to the king._)
OPH.
You are as good as a chorus, my lord.
HAM.
Begin, murderer: pox, leave thy damnable faces and begin. Come: the
croaking raven doth bellow for revenge.
LUC.
Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing;
Confederate season, else no creature seeing;
Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected,
With Hecate’s ban thrice blasted, thrice infected,
Thy natural magic and dire property,
On wholesome life usurp immediately.
(_Pours the poison into the Sleeper’s ears._)
HAM.
He poisons him i’ the garden for ’s estate. His name’s Gonzago; the
story is extant, and written in very choice Italian; you shall see
anon how the murderer gets the love of Gonzago’s wife.
OPH.
The king rises!
HAM.
What, frighted with false fire!
QUEEN.
How fares my lord?
POL.
Give o’er the play.
KING.
Give me some light.--Away!
ALL.
Lights, lights, lights!
The question arises: were the lines which Hamlet proposed to write
inserted in the play, and if so, can they be identified. Professor
Seeley and others would fix on the lines commencing the player King’s
speech: “I do believe you think what now you speak” (III, 2, 196),
until “Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own” (III, 2,
223). The sentiments contained in these verses are, for the most part,
trite aphorisms in no way affecting the murder scene, and can on that
account be entirely rejected. The speech of Lucianus, commencing
“Thoughts black” (III, 2, 266), are certainly more apt for the
occasion, and had the desired effect of alarming the King. Had these
lines numbered sixteen instead of six there would have been greater
plausibility in assigning them to Hamlet. The intention was that these
lines should have a direct bearing upon the play, and form an integral
part of the whole, therefore these verses must also be dismissed. We
can only surmise that Shakespeare intended the audience to believe
that he in some measure revised a scene in the “Murder of Gonzago” to
suit the present circumstances, which would avoid the improbability
that a play existed which in every respect resembled Claudius’ crime.
An attempt in picking out the actual lines is mere sophistication, and
a profitless and useless discussion. In introducing a play within a
play, Shakespeare endeavours to beguile the audience to believe in the
reality of the play and in the artificiality of the play scene; for
this purpose he employs rhyme couplets instead of the ordinary dialogue
and blank verse. The style of the interlude is further mocked by the
forced conceits and bombastic nature of the language. Note further the
liberal use of classical names in the first few lines. One must admire
Shakespeare’s resourcefulness in these small matters, and even greater
contrast is shown in the recitation scene, which approves his act and
judgement.
ACT II. SCENE II. Line 447-569.
(_Enter four or five players._)
You are welcome, masters! welcome all. I am glad to see thee
well: welcome, good friends.--O, my old friends! Why, thy face
is valanced since I saw thee last; comest thou to beard me in
Denmark?--What, my young lady and mistress! By’r lady, your
ladyship is nearer to heaven than when I saw you last, by the
altitude of a chopine. Pray God, your voice, like a piece of
uncurrent gold, be not cracked within the ring.--Masters, you
are all welcome. We’ll e’en to ’t like French falconers, fly at
anything we see: We’ll have a speech straight; come, give us a
taste of your quality; come, a passionate speech.
FIRST PLAY.
What speech, my good lord?
HAM.
I heard thee speak me a speech once, but it was never acted; or, if
it was, not above once; for the play, I remember, pleased not the
million; ’twas caviare to the general; but it was--as I received
it, and others, whose judgments in such matters cried on the top
of mine--an excellent play, well digested in the scenes, set down
with as much modesty as cunning. I remember, one said there were no
sallets in the lines to make the matter savoury, nor no matter in
the phrase that might indict the author of affection; but called
it an honest method, as wholesome as sweet, and by very much more
handsome than fine. One speech in it I chiefly loved; ’twas Æneas’
tale to Dido; and thereabout of it especially, where he speaks of
Priam’s slaughter. If it live in your memory, begin at this line;
let me see, let me see:
DIDO
The rugged Pyrrhus, like th’ Hyrcanian beast,--’tis not so, it
begins with Pyrrhus:
The rugged Pyrrhus,--he whose sable arms,
Black as his purpose, did the night resemble
When he lay couched in the ominous horse,--
Hath now this dread and black complexion smear’d
With heraldry more dismal; head to foot
Now is he total gules; horridly trick’d
With Blood of fathers, mothers, daughters, sons,
Baked and impasted with the parching streets,
That lend a tyrannous and damned light
To their lords’ murder, roasted in wrath and fire,
And thus o’er sized with coagulate gore,
With eyes like carbuncles, the hellish Pyrrhus
Old grandsire Priam seeks.
So, proceed you.
POL.
’Fore God, my lord, well spoken, with good accent and good
discretion.
FIRST PLAY.
Anon he finds him
Striking too short at Greeks; his antique sword,
Rebellious to his arm, lies where it falls,
Repugnant to command; unequal match’d
Pyrrhus at Priam drives; in rage strikes wide;
but with the whiff and wind of his fell sword
The unnerved father falls. Then senseless Ilium,
Seeming to feel this blow, with flaming top
Stoops to his base, and with a hideous crash
Takes prisoner Pyrrhus’ ear; for, lo! his sword
Which was declining on the milky head
Of reverend Priam, seem’d i’ the air to stick;
So, as a painted tyrant, Pyrrhus stood,
And like a neutral to his will and matter,
Did nothing.
But, as we often see, against some storm
A silence in the heavens, the rack stand still,
The bold wind speechless and the orb below
As hush as death, anon the dreadful thunder
Doth rend the region; so, after Pyrrhus’ pause,
Aroused vengeance sets him new a-work;
And never did the Cyclops’ hammers fall
On Mars’ armour, forged for proof eterne,
With less remorse than Pyrrhus’ bleeding sword
Now falls on Priam.
Out, out, thou strumpet, Fortune! All you gods,
In general synod take away her power;
Break all the spokes and fellies from her wheel,
And bowl the round nave down the hill of heaven
As low as to the fiends!
POL.
This is too long.
HAM.
It shall to the barber’s, with your beard--Prithee, say on; he’s
for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or he sleeps: say on; come to Hecuba.
FIRST PLAY.
But who, O, who had seen the mobled queen ----.
HAM.
“The mobled queen?”
POL.
That’s good; “mobled queen” is good.
FIRST PLAY.
Run barefoot up and down, threatening the flames
With bisson rheum; a clout upon that head
Where late the diadem stood; and for a robe,
About her lank and all o’er-teemed loins,
A blanket, in the alarm of fear caught up;
Who this had seen, with tongue in venom steep’d,
’Gainst Fortune’s state would treason have pronounced:
But if the gods themselves did see her then,
When she saw Pyrrhus make malicious sport
In mincing with his sword her husband’s limbs,
The instant burst of clamour that she made,--
Unless things mortal move them not at all,--
Would have made milch the burning eyes of heaven
And passion in the gods.
POL.
Look, whether he has not turned his colour and his tears in’s eyes.
Prithee, no more.
HAM.
’Tis well; I’ll have thee speak out the rest of this soon.--Good,
my lord, will you see the players well bestowed? Do you hear, let
them be well used, for they are the abstracts and brief chronicles
of the time; after your death you were better have a bad epitaph
than their ill report while you live.
POL.
My lord, I will use them according to their desert.
HAM.
God’s bodykins, man, much better! Use every man after his desert,
and who should ’scape whipping? Use them after your own honour and
dignity; the less they deserve, the more merit is in your bounty.
Take them in.
POL.
Come, sirs.
II, 2, 468.
[Illustration:
THE
Tragedie of Dido
_Queene of Carthage_:
Played by the Children of her
_Maiesties Chappell_.
Written by Christopher Marlowe, and
_Thomas Nash. Gent_.
Actors
_Iupiter._
_Ganimed._
_Venus_.
_Cupid._
_Iuno._
_Mercurie,er_
_Hermes._
_Æneas._
_Ascanius_.
_Dido._
_Anna._
_Achates._
_Ilioneus._
_Iarbas._
_Cloanthes._
_Sergestus._
[Illustration]
AT LONDON,
Printed, by the Widdowe _Orwin_, for _Thomas Woodcocke_, and
are to be solde at his shop, in Paules Church-yeard, at
the signe of the blacke Beare. +1594.+
_Æn._ My mother _Venus_ iealous of my health,
Conuaid me from their crooked acts and bands:
So I escapt the furious _Pirrhus_ wrath:
Who then ran to the pallace of the King,
And at _Ioues_ Altar finding _Priamus_,
]
[Illustration:
The Tragedie of Dido.
About whose withered necke hung _Hecuba_,
Foulding his hand in hers, and ioyntly both
Beating their breasts and falling on the ground,
He with his faulchions poynt raisde vp at once,
And with _Megeras_ eyes flared in their face,
Threatning a thousand deaths at euery glaunce.
To whom the aged King thus trembling spoke:
_Achilles_ sonne, remember what I was,
Father of fiftie sonnes, but they are slaine,
Lord of my fortune, but my fortunes turnd,
King of this Citie, but my _Troy_ is fired,
And now am neither father, Lord, nor King:
Yet who so wretched but desires to liue?
O let me liue, great _Neoptolemus_,
Not mou’d at all, but smiling at his teares,
This butcher whil’st his hands were yet held vp,
Treading vpon his breast, strooke off his hands.
_Dido._ O end _Æneas_, I can heare no more.
_Æn._ At which the franticke Queene leapt on his face,
And in his eyelids hanging by the nayles,
A little while prolong’d her husbands life:
At last the souldiers puld her by the heeles,
And swong her howling in the emptie ayre,
Which sent an eccho to the wounded King:
Whereat he lifted vp his bedred lims,
And would haue grappeld with _Achilles_ sonne,
Forgetting both his want of strength and hands,
Which he disdaining whiskt his sword about,
And with the wound thereof the King fell downe:
Then from the nauell to the throat at once,
He ript old _Priam_: at whose latter gaspe
_Ioues_ marble statue gan to bend the brow,
As lothing _Pirrhus_ for this wicked act:
Yet he vndaunted tooke his fathers flagge,
And dipt it in the old Kings chill cold bloud,
And then in triumph ran into the streetes,
Through which he could not passe for slaughtred men:
So leaning on his sword he stood stone still,
Viewing the fire wherewith rich _Ilion_ burnt.
By this I got my father on my backe,
This yong boy in mine armes, and by the hand
Led faire _Creusa_ my beloued wife,
When thou _Achates_ with thy sword mad’st way,
And we were round inuiron’d with the Greekes:
O there I lost my wife: and had not we
Fought manfully, I had not told this tale:
Yet manhood would not serue, of force we fled,
And as we went vnto our ships, thou knowest
We sawe _Cassandra_ sprauling in the streetes,
Whom _Aiax_ rauisht in _Dianas_ Fawne,
Her cheekes swolne with sighes, her haire all rent,
Whom I tooke vp to beare vnto our ships;
But suddenly the Grecians followed vs,
And I alas, was forst to let her lye.
Then got we to our ships, and being abourd,
_Polixena_ cryed out, _Æneas_ stay,
The Greekes pursue me, stay and take me in.
Moued with her voyce, I lept into the sea,
Thinking to beare her on my backe abourd:
For all our ships were launcht into the deepe,
And as I swomme, she standing on the shoare,
Was by the cruell Mirmidons surprizd,
And after by that _Pirrhus_ sacrifizde.
_Dido._ I dye with melting ruth, _Æneas_ leaue.
_Anna._ O what became of aged _Hecuba_?
_Iar._ How got _Æneas_ to the fleete againe?
_Dido._ But how scapt _Helen_, she that causde this warre?
_Æn._ _Achates_ speake, sorrow hath tired me quite.
_Acha._ What happened to the Queene we cannot shewe,
We heare they led her captiue into Greece,
As for _Æneas_ he swomme quickly backe,
And _Helena_ betraied _Düphobus_
Her Louer, after _Alexander_ dyed,
And so was reconcil’d to _Menelaus_.
]
ÆNEAS’ TALE TO DIDO.
Shakespeare, through the person of Hamlet, shows his entire sympathy
and love for all things dramatic. Directly the players enter he
heartily welcomes them, throws off for a time all thoughts of
melancholy, and appears in his true character as a noble prince,
scholar and gentleman. Evidently Hamlet had not seen these players
for a long time; for what cause he had abstained from the theatre he
does not state. In the interval the chief actor had grown old, and was
bearded. The young lady alluded to is the boy actor who had grown at
least many inches since Hamlet last saw him; in fact, by the altitude
of chopine, this last object was a kind of heel attached to a shoe or
boot, measuring a good height, sometimes as much as eighteen inches.
The ladies of Venice were chiefly addicted to this fashion at the end
of the sixteenth century, being much ridiculed for so doing, perhaps
to the same extent as the ladies of our period when the hobbled skirt
was introduced. The fashion of wearing a chopine did not extend as far
as this country, although Walter Scott introduces the custom in his
novel of the _Fortunes of Nigel_. The allusion to the lady’s voice
being cracked within the ring, refers to the boy changing his voice
from the boy to the young man’s stage. There was a ring on the coin of
the realm within which the sovereign’s head was placed; if the crack
extended from the edge beyond the ring, the coin was rendered unfit for
currency.
“One speech in it I chiefly loved, ’twas Æneas’ tale to Dido.” Should
we consider this play which Shakespeare so admirably criticises as an
imaginary composition or one by a living author? I think, after reading
Marlowe and Nash’s drama, entitled, “Dido, Queen of Carthage,” there
can exist no doubt that Shakespeare was criticising this play, and he
certainly moulded the piece he chose for recitation on this production.
If any conclusion can be drawn from this piece of criticism, one
conclusion is certain, that Shakespeare himself admired the classical
drama, and if he had composed plays only for the study they would have
been written more in conformity with classical methods. Having a mixed
audience he was obliged to flavour his plays with savoury matter, what
we should call spicy bits, for seeking the suffrage of the groundlings,
and on some occasions treated these matters in no very delicate way
according to our present notions. Shakespeare used the big brush, and
laid it on pretty thick, proving the truth of Pope’s couplet:
“For gain, not glory, winged his wordy flight
And grew immortal in his own despite.”
Many critics have taken this speech as being ironical, or a burlesque
on the old play, but there would have been no point in making Hamlet
praise the piece so extravagantly. I think the critics who favour this
theory may this time be dismissed with a caution, but should they
offend in the same manner again they will be hardly dealt with. I
regret seeing Professor Gollancz’s name in the list.
Shakespeare refers to the actors as the abstract and brief chronicles
of the time. The Shakesperean canon comprises thirty-seven plays,
not one of which, with the single exception of “The Merry Wives of
Windsor,” deals with contemporary events, therefore, by his own
confession, we owe Shakespeare little for pourtraying the chronicles
of the time. Had Shakespeare strictly adhered to the laws of the drama
this censure might have more force, but in all the plays, whether
Roman, English of bygone centuries, or Italian, characters and scenes
are laid before our admiring eyes, bearing always a substratum of pure
contemporary English manners, for which we must be ever thankful.
The same might be said of all the Elizabethan dramatists with but few
exceptions. Perhaps Shakespeare was looking ahead, prophesying the time
when the playwright would record the events of his day, as in our own
time the happenings of the hour are fully recorded, vindicating the
phrase voiced by the poet as “holding the mirror up to nature”:
That guilty creatures, sitting at a play,
Have by the very cunning of the scene
Been struck so to the soul that presently
They have proclaimed their malefactions.
I’ll have these players
Play something like the murder of my father
Before mine uncle.
The play’s the thing
Wherein I’ll catch the conscience of the king.
II, 2, 617.
In hearing or reading this speech, the spectator or reader would
naturally conclude that this was Hamlet’s first conception of the plot,
in which he sought to prove by a mock performance of the murder the
guilt or innocence of the king, yet a few minutes previously Hamlet
had already conceived the idea of the play scene. Is this another sign
of carelessness, or is Hamlet visualizing the effects of his scheme?
Hunter, a Shakesperean commentator, would read “About ’t my brains,”
that is, set about composing the lines which the players were to add
to “The Murder of Gonzago,” he would also delete the word “hum.” By
omitting the interjection he maintains that it makes prospective what
is evidently retrospective. I contend that it does nothing of the sort,
and the natural inference is, that the poet forgot that he had already
invented the stratagem by which he intends catching the conscience of
the king. Many instances occur in literature, whereas by means of a
play representing a murder, the actual wrong-doer has confessed his
crime, and been brought to justice. Such a scene is found in “A Warning
to Fair Women,” a play acted by the Chamberlain’s company and printed
in 1599. The play is founded on a celebrated murder case which took
place in Lynn in Norfolk, in 1573.
HAM.
Would not this, sir, and a forest of feathers--if the rest of my
fortunes turn Turk with me--with two Provincial roses on my razed
shoes, get me a fellowship in a cry of players, sir?
HORATIO.
Half a share.
HAM.
A whole one I.
III, 2, 286.
The difficulties of determining the precise value of a share in a
theatre are manifold. The value of money in those days does not
correspond in any degree to that of to-day. The purchasing power of a
sovereign being from seven to ten times greater now than at the end
of the sixteenth century. With the exception of corn, which in normal
times was about the same price as to-day, all food was ridiculously
cheap compared with our present-day prices, so that anyone with an
income of, say, three to four hundred pounds a year would be regarded
as a rich man. Respecting the present passage, Horatio considers half
a share a fair remuneration for a deserving actor. The shares in the
Globe Theatre were divided into sixteen parts; out of this number
Shakespeare possessed at one time in his life two whole shares, which,
it is computed, brought him in £200 a year for each share, quite
a goodly income. Shakespeare seems to have parted with his shares
before his death, as in his will he makes no mention of them. The
technical name for the proprietors of the theatre or shareholders was
house-keepers; the word has now become obsolete. I cannot find the word
in the New English Dictionary, an omission which I consider almost a
record.
UNIVERSITY PLAYS.
HAM.
My lord, you played once i’ the university, you say?
POL.
That did I, my lord, and was accounted a good actor.
HAM.
And what did you enact.
POL.
I did enact Julius Cæsar.
Brutus killed me.
HAM.
It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf there.
An entire volume of 400 closely printed pages, gives a detailed history
of plays produced at the Universities of Oxford and Cambridge. The
list includes both classical and early English comedies and tragedies;
this interesting volume has been written in a masterly and scientific
manner, and treated in a most fascinating way rarely met with in
this kind of literature. Professor Boas has thoroughly exhausted the
subject, and his book can be commended to all Shakesperean students.
Plays were acted at both Universities in quite mediæval times, becoming
a regular institution in the reign of Henry VIII. The ancient Greek
dramatists were presented either in the original Greek or in Latin
translations. The first comedy written in the vernacular is called “A
right pithy and pleasant and merry comedy, Intitled
Gammer Gurton’s Needle
Played on stage not long ago in
Christ’s College in Cambridge
Made by Mr. S. Mr. of Arts.”
The plays produced at Oxford and Cambridge were of a private character,
each college paying its own expenses for the entertainment. In later
years, assuming more of a public character, and finally magnificent
dramatic entertainments were given before the sovereign and courtiers.
The college authorities were lavish in their expenditure according
to their means, but in no way rivalled the splendour of the Court
productions. Queen Elizabeth honoured Cambridge with a visit in 1564,
and a great dramatic exhibition was held in her honour. The performance
took place at King’s College, and a great stage was erected in the
College Hall; this being found too small, another was built up in the
Chapel. A chair of State was placed on the stage for the Queen. In
the Rood Loft another platform was placed for Ladies and Gentlemen,
and still another under the Rood Loft was placed for the officials of
the Court. The scholars on this occasion were not admitted. The Queen
arrived on Saturday and took up her lodgings at King’s Lodge, and on
the following evening, which was Sunday, a play was given. The Chapel
was lighted by torches, which were held by the Guards. The play chosen
was the “Aulularia of Plautus,” being acted by the students of the
different colleges.
[Illustration:
THE
RETVRNE FROM
PERNASSVS:
Or
The Scourge of Simony.
_Publiquely acted by the Students_
in Saint Iohns Colledge in
_Cambridge._
[Illustration]
AT LONDON
Printed by _G. Eld_, for _Iohn Wright_, and
are to bee sold at his shop at
Christchurch Gate.
1606.
]
The Shakesperean student will remember Polonius’ description of the
literature of the drama. “Seneca is not too heavy or Plautus too
light.” The next night another play was performed by the men of
King’s College, who were responsible for the entertainment. The play
represented was a tragedy, “Dido,” written by Edward Halwell, formerly
a fellow of the College. The third night a play by Nicholas Udal, the
author of the famous comedy, “Ralph Roister Doister,” was presented
before the Queen. The play given on this occasion was a biblical one
named “Ezechias,” performed by the King’s College scholars. All these
plays were great successes. Another play was to have been performed the
next night, but the Queen being so fatigued after visiting the colleges
and hearing the deputations, sent messages of regret and excuse, much
to the sorrow of the whole University.
Two years later, in 1566, the Queen visited the famous University town
of Oxford, and stayed there a whole week. The stage for the nonce was
erected at the west end of the Christ Church Hall, that being very
convenient for the Queen, as her lodging was at the College. The Earl
of Leicester, as Chancellor of Oxford University, received her in state.
The first performance was given on Sunday evening; although the Queen
kept her apartment, and was not present, the play was acted before the
Spanish Ambassador and the Court. On Monday evening the Queen attended;
unfortunately, the performance was marred by a serious accident,
caused by a wall giving way through the pressure of the crowd, and
killing three persons, including one of the students. The play acted
was “Palamon and Arcyte,” written in two parts, by Richard Edwards,
the master of the Children of the Chapel; the second part was given on
another evening. The play is founded on the Knight’s Tale in Chaucer,
the same source as “The Two Noble Kinsmen,” part of which play has
been attributed to Shakespeare, his name appearing on the title page
in conjunction with Fletcher. I once possessed a copy of the first and
only edition of the quarto, 1634, formerly belonging to Marshall, the
Shakesperean editor and commentator.
A Latin play, acted on the following evening, closed the dramatic
performances. A list of players who acted in these college state
exhibitions is extant.
Reynolds, who was one of the actors, in after years became the greatest
and bitterest opponent of the University stage plays. He states that
he played the part of Hippolyta at Christ Church on the occasion of
the Queen’s visit. The Queen left Oxford with many thanks to the whole
University and repeated fond farewells to her dear scholars. The amount
of the expenses connected with these plays totalled the goodly sum of
£150, a large amount of money in those days.
[Illustration:
THE
QVEENES
ARCADIA.
A Pastorall Trage-comedie
_presented to her Maiestie and_
her Ladies, by the Vniuersitie of
_Oxford in Christs Church_,
in August last.
1605.
[Illustration]
AT LONDON
Printed by _G. Eld_, for _Simon Waterson_,
1606.
]
At Oxford the chief dramatic centres were Christ Church, Magdalen, St.
John’s, and in a lesser degree Merton; performances were also held
at Trinity, Exeter and elsewhere. At Cambridge the dramatic fare was
more widely distributed, Trinity, King’s, St. John’s, Queens’, Jesus’,
Christ, and Clare Hall all presenting plays on frequent occasions.
In spite of the fact that the spurious quarto edition of “Hamlet,”
dated 1603, states that the play was acted at the Universities of
Cambridge and Oxford, no record exists of any such performance being
given. Possibly the play was acted in the town at a public place
of entertainment. The University authorities were dead against the
professional actors, and persecuted them in a like manner as did
the Lord Mayor of London and the Corporation. As early as 1575 both
Universities issued proclamations that stage plays should not be
exhibited at Oxford or Cambridge, or within five miles of either of
those towns.
The first notice is interesting on account of the mention of the Earl
of Leicester’s players, who was patron and protector of a company of
professional actors.
“Paid to the actors of the Earl of Leicester to depart with their
plays without further troubling the University XX shillings.” This
order was issued in 1587, and if Shakespeare was a member of the
company at the time, which is generally supposed, his first appearance
at Oxford was by no means a happy one, as he was paid to go away.
Many similar payments are recorded in each year, until the death of
Elizabeth, and even afterwards, sufficient proof that the title page
must not be implicitly relied upon, and we must abandon the idea
that Shakespeare’s masterpiece was acted before the Master Dons and
students of the University Halls. The same restrictions were observed
at Cambridge, and the professional players were banned acting even at
the outlying village of Chesterton. The censorship remains in the power
of the Universities in our own time; the Vice-Chancellor of Oxford has
prohibited the production of “Hindle Wakes,” a most powerful play,
which the authorities should have encouraged instead of censored.
HENRY IV
PART I
PLAY. EXTEMPORE. ARGUMENT.
Shall we have a play extempore?
Content; and the argument shall be thy running away.
II, IV, 310.
In Europe, during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries a play
extempore was a usual form of entertainment, and was deservedly
extremely popular. In this country this nimble art never took root,
and was purely known as an exotic of an Italian growth. From mere
buffoonery the “commedia dell’ arte” or “all improvviso,” as it was
indifferently named, developed into true comedy, and many of the
situations were in later times used by Molière, the grand Comique,
in the literary, as well as in its histrionic sense. The Commedia
dell’ arte was a species of comedy in which the actors themselves
provided the dialogue. The plot or different situations were rehearsed
beforehand, but the words were entirely spontaneous. Naturally, under
such circumstances, the plays were acted with more fire of action,
truthfulness of gesture and deportment than if they had been written by
another and learnt by heart. Evidently such a method had its drawbacks,
the characters became types, the audience knowing beforehand by
constant repetition the nature of the performance. There were several
well known types, the most popular being Harlequin, Pantaloon, the
swaggering Captain, and others. Ben Jonson’s Captain Bobadil must have
been modelled on this personage. The comic personages were Sgnarelle,
Scaramouche, and the valets and soubrettes of Molière’s comedies.
KING CAMBYSES’ VEIN.
For I must speak in passion, and I will do it in King Cambyses’ vein.
And here is my speech:
Weep not, sweet Queen, for trickling tears are vain,
For God’s sake, lords, convey my trustful Queen;
For tears do stop the floodgates of her eyes.
II, IV, 445.
This is in reference to a well-known play, entitled “A Lamentable
Tragedie, mixed full of Pleasant Mirth, containing the Life of
Cambises, King of Persia,” by Thomas Preston, Fellow of King’s College,
Cambridge. The printed play is without date, being written and acted
at Court about 1570, and perhaps published the same year. The story
is taken from an episode in the life of Cambyses, King of Persia,
as related by Herodotus. The play was often parodied and held up to
ridicule by Elizabethan dramatists, chiefly on account of the maudlin
style of the King when in liquor. The putting to death of the Queen
was also made fun of. “Weep not, sweet Queen,” may be an allusion to a
scene in this play, where we read as a stage direction, “At this tale
let the Queen weep.”
QUEEN.
These words to hear make stilling tears
Issue from crystal eyes.
KING.
What dost thou mean, my spouse, to weep
For loss of any prize.
Shakespeare must have seen or read the play when published. Another
allusion will be found in “Midsummer Night’s Dream,” where there seems
to lurk a parody of the title page of Preston’s book, “A Lamentable
Tragedy mixed full of Pleasant Mirth.”
In Shakespeare’s play there is mention of a tedious brief scene of
young Pyramus and his love, Thisbe; very tragical mirth. Merry and
tragical, tedious and brief, Cambyses’ vein has become proverbial for
rant, chiefly in connexion with the stage.
PLAY.
I’ll play Percy and that damned brawn shall play Dame Mortimer and
his wife.
II, 4, 122.
Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand forth for me and I’ll
play my father.
II, 4, 477.
Play out the play.
II, IV, 482.
PLAYER.
He doth it as like one of these harlotry players as ever I see.
II, 4, 437.
VICE. INIQUITY. VANITY.
That reverend vice, that grey iniquity, that father ruffian, that
vanity in years.
II, 4, 452.
In the old Morality plays, Iniquity was one of the vices, and generally
played by a clown. In Marston’s “Histriomastix,” a stage direction
adds, “Enter a roaring Devil with the Vice on its back. Iniquity in
one hand and Juventus in the other.” “I’ll marry you to Lady Vanity,”
another of the seven deadly sins, occurs in Marlowe’s “Jew of Malta.”
CRESSETS.
At my nativity
The front of heavy was full of fiery shapes of burning cressets.
III, 1, 15.
A vessel of iron or the like made to hold grease or oil, or in an iron
basket to hold pitched rope, wood or coal, to be burnt for light.
Cotgrave, in his French and English Dictionary, 1611, describes
them under the word “falot,” a cresset light, such as they use in
playhouses.
HENRY IV
PART II
I was then Sir Dagonet in Arthur’s show.
III, 1, 300.
Apart from dramatic performances, there existed in Shakespeare’s time
several societies, which occasionally presented spectacular shows
elaborately prepared, in order to amuse a number of spectators. These
were sometimes held at the Court, and were generally of the nature
of dumb-shows or masques, or formed a kind of pageant. These shows
originated from the guilds of mediæval times, in which the craftsmen
of the different companies gave an entertainment in the streets of
important towns on Corpus Christi and other festival days.
In this particular show, Sir Dagonet is Arthur’s fool in the story of
Trestam de Lyonesse. Arthur’s show was an exhibition of archery by a
society of 58 members, which styled itself “The Auncient Order Society,
and Unitie laudable of Prince Arthur and his Knights Armory of the
Round Table,” and took the names of the knights of old romance. The
meeting of the society was held at Mile End Green.
ACT. STAGE.
And let this world no longer be a stage
To feed contention in a lingering act.
The rude scene may end.
I, 1, 156.
ACTING. SCENE. ARGUMENT.
For all my reign hath been but as a scene
Acting that argument.
IV, 5, 199.
PLAY.
I was lately here in the end of a displeasing play, to
pray your patience for it, and to promise you a better.
_Epilogue, line 10._
NINE WORTHIES.
Thou art as valorous as Hector of Troy, and ten times better than
the Nine Worthies.
II, 4, 239.
VICE.
And now is this Vice’s dagger become a squire.
III, 2, 343.
HENRY V
ENTER PROLOGUE.
All modern editions head this opening scene as “Prologue. Enter
Chorus.” The First Folio omits the word chorus. In the four subsequent
acts, “enter chorus” is used.
CHORUS.
Admit me Chorus to this history.
In ancient Greek plays the chorus consisted of several performers, but
in Shakespeare’s time the number is reduced to a single personage, who
enters before the beginning of a play and explains or comments upon
different events which are to follow in course of the narrative. In
reality, he serves the same purpose as the speaker of the prologue.
In other passages the word is used as synonymous with prologue, but
in this quotation the word bears the original meaning as applied to
Attic tragedy, in which the chorus, chanting the choral odes, passed
in review the episodes which had taken place upon the stage, and also
prepared the audience for scenes which were to follow. The tragic
chorus of a Greek play numbered fifteen members, who entered the
orchestra (dancing place) three abreast. Between the acts they recited
choral odes, accompanied by a dance movement. In the dialogue between
the chorus and the actors, only the coryphæus, the leader of the
chorus, acted as spokesman.
MORRIS DANCE.
Therefore I say ’tis meet we all go forth
To view the sick and feeble parts of France,
And let us do it with no show of fear;
No, with no more than if we heard that England
Were busied with a Whitsun Morris Dance.
II, 4, 25.
The Morris Dance was a popular element in the village May games, and,
although with no literary associations, it may claim equal popularity
with the dumb-shows and motion plays of the sixteenth century. A
painted window at Betley, in Staffordshire, has a representation of
these village dances, which include six Morris dancers, with a Maypole,
a musician, a fool, a crowned man on a hobby horse, a crowned lady with
a flower in her hand, and a friar. This window dates from the reign
of Edward III. Sometimes, included amongst the dancers, was a dragon,
and, no doubt, the rider of the hobby-horse personated St. George. A
reference to the hobby-horse occurs in “Hamlet,” where Hamlet exclaims,
“O for the hobby-horse is forgot,” referring to the omission of that
living property from the show, which was fast becoming obsolete at the
end of the sixteenth century. The Morris Dance proper consisted of six
personages, each dancer wearing a broad garter below the knee. There
are two sets of figures: in one handkerchiefs are carried, in the other
short staves are swung and clashed. Sometimes the dancers sing to the
air of an old country dance. There is always a fool, who carries a
stick with a bladder and a cow’s tail. The music is that of a pipe and
tabor, played by one man. The name is a corruption of “Moorish,” and is
immediately derived from the Flemish “morriske dans.” The reason for
this name is that the performers blacked their faces, but whether they
derived the name because of their Moorish appearance or dressed up to
represent Moors is undecided.
CUE.
Now we speak upon our cue. And our voice is imperial.
ACT. SCENE. STAGE.
A kingdom for a stage, princes to act
And monarchs to behold the swelling scene.
_Prologue, line 3._
PLAY.
Gently to hear, kindly to judge our play.
_Prologue, line 34._
Linger your patience on, and we’ll digest
The abuse of distance; force a play.
_Prologue_ II, _line 32._
For if we may, we’ll not offend one stomach with our play.
_Prologue_ II, _line 40._
Bardolph and Nym had ten times more valour than this roaring devil
i’ the old play, that every one may pare his nails with a wooden
dagger.
IV, 4, 73.
The devil was supposed to keep his nails unpared from choice, and
therefore to pare them was considered an insult. The character of the
“Devil” was a feature from the old Miracle and Morality plays.
Edward the Black Prince
Who on French ground play’d a tragedy.
I, 2, 106.
PLAYHOUSE.
There is the playhouse now, there must you sit.
_Prologue_ II, _line 36._
PROLOGUE.
ENTER PROLOGUE. PROLOGUE I.
Prologue, like your humble patience pray.
_Prologue_ I, _line 33._
SCENE.
The scene
Is now transported, gentles,
To Southampton.
_Prologue_ II, 34.
Unto Southampton do we shift our scene.
_Prologue_ II, _line_
Thus with imagined wing our swift scene flies
In motion of no less celerity
Than that of thought.
_Prologue_ II, _line 1._
And so our scene must to the battle fly.
_Prologue_ IV, _line 48._
STAGE.
A kingdom for a stage.
_Prologue_ I, _line 3._
Which oft our stage hath shown.
_Epilogue_, _line 13._
PROMPT.
Vouchsafe to those that have not read the story
That I may prompt them.
_Prologue_ V, _line 2._
THIS WOODEN O. SCAFFOLD. COCKPIT.
O, for a Muse of fire, that would ascend
The brightest heaven of invention;
A kingdom for a stage, princes to act
And monarchs to behold the swelling scene,
Then should the warlike Harry, like himself,
Assume the part of Mars; and at his heels,
Leashed in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire
Crouch for employment. But pardon, gentles, all
The flat, unraised spirits that hath dar’d
On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth
So great an object; can this cockpit hold
The vasting fields of France? or may we cram
Within this wooden O the very casques
That did affright the air at Agincourt?
SCAFFOLD.
On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth.
In mediæval times the ecclesiastical plays were usually performed in
churches or chapels upon temporary scaffolds erected for that purpose.
The term survived even to the seventeenth century in the sense of a
platform, or stage, on which theatrical performances took place. This
is the only instance in which Shakespeare uses the word.
COCKPIT.
The name applied to a theatre and the pit of a theatre, deriving its
name from a pit or enclosed area usually of a round formation in which
gamecocks are set to fight for sport.
THIS WOODEN O.
All the early Elizabethan theatres were constructed in a circular
or octagonal shape. An uncertainty prevails as regards the theatre
intended. Quite possibly the reference might be to the newly erected
Globe, which was opened in the summer of 1599, about the time “Henry V”
was written, and was under the management of Shakespeare and his fellow
actors belonging to the Lord Chamberlain’s company. Some critics favour
the Curtain Theatre, in Shoreditch, as the original house in which
“Henry V” was first produced.
HENRY VI
PART I.
This play is of doubtful parentage. Many would ascribe it either singly
or in conjunction to Greene, Peele, Marlowe, Nash, and Shakespeare. It
appears in the First Folio amongst the collected works of Shakespeare,
and for that reason is admitted in the Shakesperean canon of modern
editions. There exists grave doubts whether Shakespeare ever wrote a
single line of this composition. This play was written as early as
1590, thirty years before Heminge and Condell, the editors of the
First Folio, issued their book. Perhaps Shakespeare revised the work
of others, and thus it appeared in its latest form under his name.
The altering of a play by another hand without acknowledgment did not
constitute in those days any literary offence, although at times an
author objected to his work being so treated, and was not mealy-mouthed
in proclaiming the fact. An excellent instance of this tampering with
another’s property can be read in Greene’s _Groatsworth of Wit_, 1592,
where he denounces Shakespeare in no measured terms “as an upstart
crow, beautified with our feathers,” in reference to his treatment
of the three parts of “Henry VI.” Greene may have been mistaken in
identifying Shakespeare as the author. Every critic understands by the
“only Shake-scene in the country” as referring to Shakespeare. The
entire question is one of the most difficult problems in Shakesperean
studies.
HEAVENS.
Hung be the Heavens with black.
I, 1, 1.
The heavens were part of the stage buildings. It was built over the
stage in shape of a sloping roof. The stage being open to the sky, it
protected the actors against the inclemency of the weather, and also
acted as a sounding board. An illustration of the “heavens” can be
seen in De Witt’s drawing of the Swan Theatre, c. 1596. Contemporary
documents prove that all the theatres were provided with this
necessary commodity. Cotgrave, in his French and English Dictionary,
1611, has under the word “volerie,” a robbery, also a place over a
stage, which we call the Heaven. In Hatzfeld and Darmsteter’s Modern
French Dictionary there is no reference to such a meaning as given by
Cotgrave, but under the word “volet” one definition is given as a kind
of shutter before a window.
Hung be the Heavens with black.
I, 1, 1.
When a tragedy was played, the stage was draped with black; many
references to this custom are found in contemporary authors. In
Sidney’s _Arcadia_, 1598: “There arose even with the sun a veil of
dark clouds, before his face, had blacked all over the face of heaven,
preparing as it were a mournful stage for a tragedy to be played on.”
In Marston’s _The Insatiate Countess_: “The stage of heaven is hung
with solemn black. A time best fitting to act tragedies,” and in _A
Warning for Faire Women_, 1599: “The stage is hung with black, and I
perceive the auditors prepared for Tragedy.”
PLAYED. PART.
Pucelle hath bravely play’d her part in this
And doth deserve a coronet of gold.
III, 3, 88.
MASQUERS. REVEL.
Tell false Edward, thy supposed king,
That Lewis of France is sending over masquers
To revel it with him and his new bride.
III, 3, 224.
This passage is repeated in IV, I, 94:
At my depart these were his very words:
“Go tell false Edward, thy supposed king,
That Lewis of France is sending over masquers
To revel it with him and his new bride.”
Masquers were those performers who took part in a masque. As a rule
they were gorgeously costumed. The performers were chiefly chosen for
their agility and grace in dancing. In later years a dialogue was added
to the masque, which the masquers took part in.
There are no theatrical allusions either in Part II or Part III of
“Henry VI.”
HENRY VIII
THE PROLOGUE.
SCENE. SHOW. PLAY.
I come no more to make you laugh, things now
That bear a weighty and a serious brow,
Sad, high and working, full of state and woe
Such noble scenes as draw the eye to flow
We now present. Those that can pity, here
May, if they think it well, let fall a tear:
The subject will deserve it. Such as give
Their money out of hope they may believe,
May here find truth, too. Those that come to see
Only a show or two, and so agree
The play may pass, if they be still and calling
I’ll undertake may see away their shilling
Richly in two short hours. Only they
That come to hear a merry play,
A noise of targets or to see a fellow
In a long motley coat guarded in yellow,
Wil be deceived, for gentle heavens, know
To rank our chosen truth with such a show
As fool and fight is, beside forfeiting
Our own brains and the opinion that we bring
To make that only true we now intend
Will leave us never an understanding friend.
Therefore for goodness’ sake, and as you are known
The first and happiest hearers of the town,
Be sad as we would make ye, think ye see
The very parsons of our noble story
As they were living, think you see them great
And followed with the general throng and sweat
By thousand friends; then, in a moment see
How soon this mightiness meets misery:
And if you can be merry then, I’ll say
A man may weep upon his wedding day.
I’ll undertake may see away their shilling
Richly in two hours.
In commenting upon this play, the reader must bear in mind that this
is one of the doubtful plays of Shakespeare. Much ingenuity has been
displayed in endeavouring to unravel the mystery of its authorship.
Most scholars discern the hand of Fletcher, together with that of
Shakespeare. Others would award the entire play to Fletcher, while
on the other hand, the entire play has been considered as fully
Shakesperean. A great poet, Tennyson, was of the opinion that most
of the play was written by Fletcher. Spedding, who has devoted much
thought to this problem, would assign to Fletcher a great portion
of the dialogue, including the famous “Farewell” speech of Wolsey,
which I for one cannot for a moment allow, as this speech, above all
others, has the true Shakesperean ring. Two very interesting items of
theatrical history can be gathered from this prologue, namely, the
price of admission to the best seats and the duration of a five act
play of Shakespeare’s time. Spedding would give the Prologue and the
Epilogue to Fletcher.
The price of admission to the best seats would be a shilling, as we
learn from Dekker’s books of Gull’s, where he mentions the twelvepenny
rooms as being the best place in the theatre. This price was for the
best seats or a seat upon the stage, which at this period was allowed
at some of the theatres. When the custom was introduced of allowing
a few of the spectators a seat on the stage is uncertain. The matter
has not been fully examined or explained, and little information can
be gathered from contemporary sources. The boxes, or rooms, as they
were styled, were priced at a shilling at the Globe and Blackfriars
Theatres. The twelvepenny rooms were situated near the stage, in the
lowermost gallery, and are seen on the drawing of the interior of the
Swan Theatre, close to the word orchestra. Why the writer should refer
to the shilling seats only is difficult to make out. Perhaps for the
first performance of a new play a shilling was charged for all the
seats. We know that a different scale of charges did exist, but the
accounts are somewhat confused. It was during a performance of this
play that the thatched roof of the Globe Theatre caught fire and was
burnt to the ground. This took place on St. Peter’s Day, June 29th,
1613.
ACT. PART. PLAYED.
I would have play’d
The part my father meant to act upon
The usurper Richard.
I, 2, 195.
THE EPILOGUE. PLAY. ACT. CLAP.
’Tis ten to one this play can never please
All that are here; some come to take their ease
And sleep an act or two; but those we fear
We have frighted with our trumpets, so ’tis clear
They’ll say ’tis naught.
For this play at this time, is only on
The merciful construction of good women;
For such a one we show’d ’em if they smile,
And say ’twill do I know within a while,
All the best men are ours for ’tis ill hap
If they hold when their ladies bid ’m clap.
MASQUE.
Now this masque was cried incomparable.
I, 1, 27.
PAGEANTS. SHOWS.
’Tis well; the citizens,
I am sure, have shown at full their royal minds
And let ’em have their rights they are ever forward,
In celebration of this day with shows,
Pageants and sights of honour.
IV, 1, 2.
PLAYHOUSE. AUDIENCE.
These are the youths that thunder at a playhouse and fight for
bitter apples; that no audience but the tribulation of Tower Hill
or the limbs of Lime House, their dear brothers, are able to endure.
V, 4.
MASQUE. REVELS.
Enter the King and others as masquers, habited like shepherds,
ushered by the Lord Chamberlain. They pass directly before the
Cardinal, and gracefully salute him.
A noble company! What are their pleasures?
Because they speak no English, thus they pray’d
To tell your grace, that, having heard by fame
Of this so noble and so fair assembly.
PAGEANT. PLAY. PART.
I will not be slack
To play my part in Fortune’s pageant.
PROLOGUE. PLAY. TRAGEDY.
I know their complot is to have my life:
And if my death might make this island happy
And prove the period of their tyranny,
I would expend it with all willingness;
But mine is made a prologue to their play.
For thousands more, that yet suspect
Will not conclude their plotted tragedy.
III, 1, 151.
SHOWS.
And now what rests, but that we spend the time
With stately trumpets mirthful comic shows
Such as befits the pleasures of the Court.
ACT. ROSCIUS. SCENE.
What scene of death hath Roscius now to act?
V, 6, 10.
Roscius was the most celebrated comic actor of his times. He lived in
the first century A.D., dying in the year 62. Throughout the
ages he has been personified as the greatest actor of all times, and
his name has often been applied to any actor of great eminence. In
Shakespeare’s period, Richard Burbage was the Roscius of the day, and
was known as “Roscius Richard.”
ACTORS. PLAY’D. TRAGEDY.
Why stand we like soft-hearted women here
Wailing our losses, whiles the foe doth rage;
And look upon, as if the tragedy
Were play’d in jest by counterfeiting actors.
II, 3.
This night to meet here, they could do no less,
Out of the great respect they bear to beauty,
But leave their flocks, and under your fair act
Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat
An hour of revels with them.
_Act_ II, _Scene_ IV
Crave leave to view these ladies and entreat
An hour of revels with ’em.
Under the name of Revels was included many kinds of merrymaking and
festivities. From the fourteenth century onwards such diversions were
held at the Court and at the houses of noblemen. The Revels included
dancing, games, masking, mummings or disguisings and other forms of
lively entertainments. In Tudor times these amusements had assumed vast
proportions. In Henry VII’s reign the Master of the Revels first makes
his appearance, and that official post continued to be held until the
Restoration. Queen Elizabeth formed a separate company, called Children
of the Revels, which took part in many important functions. These
children also acted in regular plays, and caused much heart-burning and
dissension amongst the adult players.
KING JOHN
THEATRE. SCENES. ACTS.
As in a theatre, when they gape and point
At your industrious scenes and acts of death.
It will be generally observed that when Shakespeare introduced a simile
drawn from theatrical art, other similes of a like nature regularly
follow, and are accounted for by the law of association of ideas. An
interesting study could be made of enquiry whether this rule applies to
other dramatists of the period. Perhaps some patient and industrious
student will collect all the passages bearing on this subject and
publish the fruit of his labour. A study of the early stage is of so
fascinating a pursuit and of so engrossing a nature that such a work
ought easily to find a chronicler, not forgetting the fact that the
results would be so welcome and interesting to other students. The
worker in such a field of enquiry will not find that his time has been
spent in vain, especially as no such collection is to be found amongst
the multitudinous books written about the drama.
MASQUE. REVEL.
This harness’d masque and unadvised revel.
V, 2, 132.
JULIUS CÆSAR
CLAP. HISS. PLAYERS. THEATRE.
If the tag-rag people did not clap him and hiss him, according as
he pleased and displeased them, as they used to do the players in
the theatre, I am no true man.
I, 2, 258.
These terms “clap” and “hiss” seem to have been the usual methods
of showing signs of approval and disapproval in the theatre in
Shakespeare’s time, as it is still with us. Dryden confirms this
statement by mentioning that to clap and hiss are the privileges of
a freeborn subject in a playhouse. Pepys, in his Diary, 1669, says:
“Indeed, it was very finely sung as to make the whole house clap her.”
Both these methods were adopted by the spectators in all playhouses
in Europe. In the Spanish theatres, when the players said anything
that pleased the audience, everybody cried out “Victor! Victor!” This
was a custom peculiar to their country. They also had another custom
which, fortunately, did not travel beyond the confines of Spain, when
they wished to show signs of disapproval either with the play or the
actors, they did so by blowing a whistle, much after the fashion of our
football enthusiasts when a goal has been scored.
ACTORS.
Let not our looks put on our purposes,
But bear it as our Roman actors do
With untired spirits and formal constancy.
II, 1, 226.
PLAYS.
He reads much,
He is a great observer,
He loves no plays, as thou dost, Antony,
He hears no music.
THEATRE.
That done, repair to Pompey’s theatre.
JIGGING.
What should the wars do with those jigging fools?
IV, 3, 136.
MASQUER. REVELLER.
A peevish schoolboy
Joined with a masker and a reveller.
ACTED. SCENE.
How many ages hence shall this our lofty scene be acted over.
III, 1, 112.
A favourite device of Shakespeare, often repeated in his plays, of
making his characters allude to the stage, thus enveloping his own
imaginary dramatic efforts with a reality, which almost deceives the
audience that they are witnesses of living actions.
KING LEAR
CATASTROPHE. OLD COMEDY.
(_Enter Edgar._)
Edm. And pat he comes like the catastrophe of the old comedy.
I, 2, 149.
The catastrophe of a dramatic piece always occurred towards the end,
and came when the audience were on the tiptoe of expectation, awaiting
the final _dénouement_, as it is called in modern times.
CUE.
My cue is villanous, melancholy, with a sigh like Tom o’ Bedlam.
I, 2, 147.
PART.
You come with letters against the King, and take
vanity the puppet’s part, against the royalty of
her father.
II, 2, 40.
VANITY.
And take vanity, the puppet’s part.
II, 2, 40.
Vanity was one of the seven deadly sins often presented in old
Morality plays, and many references are made to this character by the
Elizabethan dramatists.
INTERLUDE.
ALB.
If you will marry, make your loves to me;
My lady is bespoke.
GON.
An interlude.
V, 3, 90.
Goneril would intimate that the interview is becoming quite
interesting, and compares the scene with an interlude or a farcical
play.
LOVE’S LABOUR’S LOST
NINE WORTHIES.
None so fit as to present the Nine Worthies.
V, 1, 130.
Sir, you shall present before her the Nine Worthies.
V, 1, 110.
The original Nine Worthies were composed of three Jews, Joshua, David
and Judas Maccabæus; three Pagans, Hector, Alexander and Julius
Cæsar and three Christians, King Arthur, Charlemagne, and Godfrey of
Bouillon. But these original Worthies were not always strictly adhered
to; the number remained the same, but other names were substituted in
place of those above named.
Nashe, the Elizabethan dramatist and pamphlet writer, remarks in one
of his prose works, entitled, _The Unfortunate Traveller, or the Life
of Jack Wilton_, a book dedicated to Lord Southampton, Shakespeare’s
patron, to whom he dedicated _Venus and Adonis_ and _Lucrece_: “To
Charles the Fifth, then Emperor, they reported how he shewed the Nine
Worthies, David, Solomon, Gideon, and the rest in that similitude and
likeness that they lived upon earth.” Shakespeare introduces Hercules
and Pompey without any authority; thus it would appear that any author
might choose his own Worthies, totally ignoring historical precedence.
These Worthies formed part of a pageant, a form of entertainment given
by our ancestors at Christmas time and on other festive occasions.
In some instances, speaking parts were allotted to the performers.
Fortunately, a genuine specimen has been preserved in a manuscript of
the time of Edward IV, in which the first named Worthies all appear.
The text of these pageants were in most parts composed by ignorant
people, and were not considered worth preserving. Shakespeare’s pageant
is a parody on this kind of entertainment, similar to that of the
Athenian mechanics in their play of Pyramus and Thisbe in “Midsummer
Night’s Dream.” Shakespeare seems to have taken infinite delight in
parodying these monstrous entertainments.
ACTORS. PART. WORTHIES.
B.
By Jove, I always took three three’s for nine.
C.
O Lord, sir! it is a pity you should get your living by reckoning,
sir.
B.
How much is it?
C.
O Lord, sir! the parties themselves, the actors, sir, will show
where until it doth amount; for mine own part I am, as they say,
but to perfect one man in one poor man, Pompey the Great, sir.
B.
Art thou one of the Worthies?
C.
It pleased them to think me worthy of Pompey the Great; for mine
own part, I know not the degree of Worthy, but I am to stand for
him.
V, 2, 501.
AUDIENCE. ENTER. EXIT. HISS.
HOL.
Shall I have audience? He shall present Hercules in minority; his
enter and exit shall be strangling a snake. And I will have an
apology for that purpose.
MOTH.
An excellent device, so that if any of the audience hiss, you may
cry “Well done, Hercules; now thou crushest the snake!”
COMEDY.
Here was a consent,
Knowing aforehand of our merriment,
To dash it like a Christmas comedy.
V, II, 462.
The figurative meaning of the word dash is to destroy, frustrate,
spoil; in this instance it would rather signify throwing cold water
upon it. In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries it was the usual
word for the rejection of a Bill in Parliament.
As the cry of yea or no is bigger, so the Bill is allowed or dashed.
Sir T. Smith, _Commonwealth of England_, 1633.
The word is now obsolete except in the phrase: To dash one’s hopes or
spirits.
ZANY.
Some carry tale, some please man, some slight Zany.
To make my lady laugh.
VII, 463.
EXIT.
ERGO.
I come with this apology.
Keep some state in thy exit and vanish.
EPILOGUE.
It is an epilogue or discourse to make plain some obscure
precedence.
III, I, 76.
MASKS. REVELS.
Revels, dances, masks and merry hours
Forerun fair Love, strewing her way with flowers.
IV, 3, 379.
The latter quotation is interesting on account of its having been
quoted in an extremely valuable anthology in the last year of the
sixteenth century. This publication being of such extreme interest I
shall transcribe the title page in full.
ENGLANDS
PARNASSUS
OR
The choysest Flowers of our Moderne Poets with their Poetical
comparisons, Descriptions of Beauties, Personages, Castles,
Pallaces, Mountaines, Groves, Seas, Springs, Rivers, &c.
Whereunto are annexed other various discourses, both pleasant and
profitable.
(Printer’s Device)
Imprinted for N. L. C. B.
and T. H. 1600.
The initials N. L. stand for Nicholas Ling, one of the publishers of
the famous piratical “Hamlet” quarto, 1603, also the corrected editions
of 1604 and 1605.
There are 2,350 quotations in this Anthology, of which 95 are taken
from Shakespeare, 30 from the plays and 65 from the poems. The above is
numbered 1,292, under the heading:
PLEASURE
Revels, dances, masks and merry howers,
Forerun faire love strowing her way with flowers.
W. Sha.
Although not a rare book, it is of priceless value to the Elizabethan
student. Extracts from extant plays being assigned to their proper
authors, notwithstanding that the plays in which they appeared were
printed anonymously.