how he might be imployed. Why easily, quoth hee, and greatly to your
benefit: for men of my profession get by schollers their whole liuing.
What is your profession, sayd _Roberto_? Truely sir, said he, I am a
player. A Player, quoth _Roberto_, I tooke you rather for a gentleman
of great liuing; for if by outward habit men shuld be censured, I tell
you, you would be taken for a substantiall man. So am I where I dwell
(quoth the player) reputed able at my proper cost, to build a Windmill.
What though the worlde once went hard with mee, when I was faine to
carrie my playing Fardle a footebacke; _Tempora mutantur_: I know you
know the meaning of it better than I, but I thus conster it, it is
otherwise now; for my very share in playing apparrell will not be solde
for two hundred pounds. Truely (said _Roberto_) it is strange, that you
should so prosper in that vaine practise, for that it seemes to me your
voyce is nothing gracious. Nay then, said the player, I mislike your
iudgement: why, I am as famous for Delphrigus, and the king of Fairies,
as euer was any of my time. The twelue labors of _Hercules_ haue I
terribly thundred on the stage, and plaied three scenes of the deuill
in the highway to heauen. Haue ye so (said _Roberto_?) then I pray you
pardon me. Nay more (quoth the player) I can serue to make a prettie
speech, for I was a countrie Author, passing at a morrall, for it was
I that pende the Morral of mans wit, the Dialogue of Diues, and for
seauen yeeres space was absolute interpreter of the puppets. But now my
Almanacke is out of date:
_The people make no estimation,
Of Morrals teaching education._
Was not this prettie for a plaine rime extempore? if ye will, ye shall
haue more. Nay it is enough, said _Roberto_, but how meane you to vse
mee? Why sir, in making playes, said the other, for which you shall
be well paied, if you will take the paines.... Roberto, now famozed
for an Arch-plaimaking-poet, his purse like the sea sometime sweld,
anon like the same sea fell to a low ebbe; yet seldom he wanted, his
labors were so well esteemed. Marry, this rule he kept, what euer he
fingerd afore-hand, was the certaine meanes to vnbinde a bargaine; and
being asked why he so sleightly dealt with them that did him good?
It becomes me, sath hee, to be contrarie to the worlde: for commonly
when vulgar men recieue earnest, they doe performe; when I am paid any
thing afore-hand, I breake my promise.... _To those Gentlemen, his
Quondam acquaintance, that spend their wits in making Plaies, R. G.
wisheth a better exercise, and wisdome to preuent his extremities_....
Base minded men al three of you, if by my miserie ye be not warned:
for vnto none of you (like me) sought those burres to cleaue: those
Puppits (I meane) that speake from our mouths, those Anticks garnisht
in our colours. Is it not strange that I, to whom they al haue beene
beholding: is it not like that you, to whome they all haue beene
beholding, shall (were ye in that case that I am now) be both at once
of them forsaken? Yes, trust them not: for there is an vpstart Crow,
beautified with our feathers, that with his _Tygers heart wrapt in
a Players hide_, supposes he is as well able to bumbast out a blank
verse as the best of you: and being an absolute _Iohannes fac totum_,
is in his owne conceit the onely Shake-scene in a countrie. O that
I might intreate your rare wits to be imployed in more profitable
courses: & let these Apes imitate your past excellence, and neuer more
acquaint them with your admired inuentions. I know the best husband
of you all will neuer proue an Vsurer, and the kindest of them all
wil neuer prooue a kinde nurse: yet, whilst you may, seeke you better
Maisters; for it is pittie men of such rare wits, should be subiect to
the pleasures of such rude groomes. In this I might insert two more,
that both haue writ against these buckram Gentlemen: but let their
owne works serue to witnesse against their owne wickednesse, if they
perseuer to maintaine any more such peasants. For other new commers, I
leaue them to the mercie of these painted monsters, who (I doubt not)
will driue the best minded to despise them: for the rest, it skils not
though they make a ieast at them.’ Cf. ch. xxiii, s.v. Greene.
xlix. 1592. HENRY CHETTLE.
[From _Kind-Harts Dreame. Conteining fiue Apparitions, with
their Inuectiues against abuses raigning. Deliuered by seuerall
Ghosts vnto him to be publisht_ ... by H. C. (N. D.). The tract
was entered in the Stationers’ Register (Arber, ii. 623) on 8
Dec. 1592. The Ghosts are those of Anthony Now Now a fiddler,
William Cuckoe a juggler, Doctor Burcot a physician, Robert
Greene, and Richard Tarlton. Greene died in Sept. 1592. The
Epistle is signed by Henry Chettle (cf. ch. xxiii). The whole is
reprinted by C. M. Ingleby in Part I (1874) of the _Shakspere
Allusion-Books_ of the New Shakspere Society.]
P. 37. _To the Gentlemen Readers._ ‘About three moneths since died M.
_Robert Greene_, leauing many papers in sundry Booke sellers hands,
among other his Groatsworth of wit, in which a letter written to diuers
playmakers, is offensiuely by one or two of them taken; and because
on the dead they cannot be auenged, they wilfully forge in their
conceites a liuing Author: and after tossing it two and fro, no remedy,
but it must light on me. How I haue all the time of my conuersing
in printing hindered the bitter inueying against schollers, it hath
been very well knowne; and how in that I dealt, I can sufficiently
prooue. With neither of them that take offence was I acquainted, and
with one of them I care not if I neuer be: The other, whome at that
time I did not so much spare, as since I wish I had, for that as I
haue moderated the heate of liuing writers, and might haue vsde my
owne discretion (especially in such a case) the Author beeing dead,
that I did not, I am as sory as if the originall fault had beene my
fault, because my selfe haue seene his demeanor no lesse ciuill, than
he exelent in the qualitie he professes: Besides, diuers of worship
haue reported his vprightnes of dealing, which argues his honesty, and
his facetious grace in writting, that aprooues his Art. For the first,
whose learning I reuerence, and at the perusing of _Greenes_ Booke,
stroke out what then in conscience I thought he in some displeasure
writ: or had it beene true, yet to publish it, was intollerable: him
I would wish to vse me no worse than I deserue. I had onely in the
copy this share: it was il written, as sometime _Greenes_ hand was
none of the best; licensd it must be, ere it could bee printed, which
could neuer be if it might not be read. To be breife, I writ it ouer;
and as neare as I could, followed the copy; onely in that letter I put
something out, but in the whole booke not a worde in; for I protest
it was all _Greenes_, not mine nor Maister _Nashes_, as some vniustly
haue affirmed.’ _Henrie Chettle_.... _The Dreame_. P. 43. ‘There
entered at once fiue personages.... The next, by his sute of russet,
his buttond cap, his taber, his standing on the toe, and other tricks,
I knew to be either the body or resemblaunce of Tarlton, who liuing,
for his pleasant conceits was of all men liked, and dying, for mirth
left not his like.... With him was the fifth, a man of indifferent
yeares, of face amible, of body well proportioned, his attire after
the habite of a schollerlike Gentleman, onely his haire was somewhat
long, whome I supposed to be Robert Greene, maister of Artes: of whome
(howe euer some suppose themselues iniured) I haue learned to speake,
considering he is dead, _nill nisi necessarium_. He was of singuler
pleasaunce the verye supporter, and, to no man’s disgrace bee this
intended, the only Comedian of a vulgar writer in this country.’ P.
63. _To all maligners of honest mirth_, Tarleton _wisheth continuall
melancholy_. ‘Now Maisters, what say you to a merrie knaue, that for
this two years day hath not beene talkt of. Wil you giue him leaue, if
he can, to make ye laugh? What, all a mort? No merry countenance? Nay
then I see hypocrisie hath the vpper hand, and her spirit raignes in
this profitable generation. Sith it is thus, Ile be a time-pleaser.
Fie vppon following plaies, the expence is wondrous; vpon players
speeches, their wordes are full of wyles; vppon their gestures, that
are altogether wanton. Is it not lamentable, that a man should spende
his two pence on them in an after-noone, heare couetousnes amongst
them daily quipt at, being one of the commonest occupations in the
countrey; and in liuely gesture see trecherie set out, with which euery
man now adaies vseth to intrap his brother. Byr lady, this would be
lookt into: if these be the fruites of playing, tis time the practisers
were expeld. Expeld (quoth you); that hath been pretily performd, to
the no smal profit of the Bouling-allyes in Bedlam and other places,
that were wont in the after-noones to be left empty, by the recourse
of good fellows vnto that vnprofitable recreation of Stage-playing.
And it were not much amisse, would they ioine with the Dicing houses
to make sute againe for their longer restraint, though the sicknesse
cease. Is not this well saide (my maisters) of an olde buttond cappe,
that hath most part of his life liu’d vppon that against which he
inueighs: Yes, and worthily.’ Suppression of plays to the advantage of
bawdy-houses, especially those not near Shoreditch. Discourse with a
pander. P. 65. ‘And you, sir, find fault with plaies. Out vpon them,
they spoile our trade, as you your selfe haue proued. Beside, they
open our crosse-biting, our conny-catching, our traines, our traps,
our gins, our snares, our subtilties: for no sooner haue we a tricke
of deceipt, but they make it common, singing Iigs, and making ieasts
of vs, that euerie boy can point out our houses as they passe by.
Whither now _Tarlton_? this is extempore, out of time, tune, and
temper.... Thy selfe once a Player, and against Players: nay, turne
out the right side of thy russet coate, and lette the world know thy
meaning. Why thus I meane, for now I speake in sobernes. Euery thing
hath in it selfe his vertue and his vice: from one selfe flower the Bee
and Spider sucke honny and poyson. In plaies it fares as in bookes,
vice cannot be reproued, except it be discouered: neither is it in
any play discouered, but there followes in the same an example of
the punishment: now he that at a play will be delighted in the one,
and not warned by the other, is like him that reads in a booke the
description of sinne, and will not looke ouer the leafe for the reward.
Mirth in seasonable time taken, is not forbidden by the austerest
Sapients. But indeede there is a time of mirth and a time of mourning.
Which time hauing been by the Magistrats wisely obserued, as well for
the suppressing of Playes, as other pleasures: so likewise a time
may come, when honest recreation shall haue his former libertie. And
lette _Tarleton_ intreate the yoong people of the Cittie, either to
abstaine altogether from playes, or at their comming thither to vse
themselues after a more quiet order. In a place so ciuill as this
Cittie is esteemed, it is more than barbarously rude, to see the
shamefull disorder and routes that sometimes in such publike meetings
are vsed. The beginners are neither gentlemen, nor citizens, nor any
of both their seruants, but some lewd mates that long for innouation;
& when they see aduantage, that either Seruingmen or Apprentises are
most in number, they will be of either side, though indeed they are
of no side, but men beside all honestie, willing to make boote of
cloakes, hats, purses, or what euer they can lay holde on in a hurley
burley. These are the common causers of discord in publike places. If
otherwise it happen (as it seldome doth) that any quarrell be betweene
man and man, it is far from manhood to make so publike a place their
field to fight in: no men will doe it, but cowardes that would faine
be parted, or haue hope to haue many partakers. Nowe to you that
maligne our moderate merriments, and thinke there is no felicitie but
in excessiue possession of wealth: with you I would ende in a song,
yea an Extempore song on this Theame, _Ne quid nimis necessarium_: but
I am now hoarse, and troubled with my Taber and Pipe: beside, what
pleasure brings musicke to the miserable. Therefore letting songes
passe, I tell them in sadnes, how euer Playes are not altogether to be
commended: yet some of them do more hurt in a day, than all the Players
(by exercizing theyr profession) in an age. Faults there are in the
professors as other men, this the greatest, that diuers of them beeing
publike in euerie ones eye, and talkt of in euery vulgar mans mouth,
see not how they are seene into, especially for their contempt, which
makes them among most men most contemptible. Of them I will say no
more: of the profession, so much hath _Pierce Pennilesse_ (as I heare
say) spoken, that for mee there is not any thing to speake. So wishing
the chearefull, pleasaunce endlesse; and the wilfull sullen, sorrow
till they surfet; with a turne on the toe I take my leaue. _Richard
Tarleton._’
l. 1592–9. JOHN RAINOLDS V. WILLIAM GAGER AND ALBERICO GENTILI.
[A controversy arising out of criticism by Rainolds on the
legitimacy of academic drama is contained in (_a_) Gager’s
_Momus_ and _Epilogus Responsiuus_, written _c._ Jan. 1592,
spoken 8 Feb., printed with additional matter _c._ May (cf. ch.
xxiii, s.v. Gager, _Ulysses Redux_; (_b_) Rainolds to Thomas
Thornton, 6 Feb. 1592; (_c_) Rainolds to Gager, 10 July 1592;
(_d_) Gager to Rainolds, 31 July 1592; (_e_) Rainolds to Gager,
30 May 1593; (_f_) Gentili, _Commentatio de Professoribus et
Medicis_, printed with _Ad Titulum de Maleficis et Mathematicis
Commentarius_ (1593, with epistle of 26 June 1593; 1604); (_g_)
Gentili to Rainolds, 7 July 1593; (_h_) Rainolds to Gentili,
10 July 1593; (_i_) Gentili to Rainolds, 14 July 1593; (_k_)
Rainolds to Gentili, 5 Aug. 1593; (_l_) two further letters by
Gentili and two by Rainolds, who ends the correspondence on
12 Mar. 1594; (_m_) Gentili, _De Actoribus et Spectatoribus
Fabularum non Notandis Disputatio_ (1599, with epistle of 14
Oct. 1597; reprinted in Gronovius, _Thesaurus Antiquitatum_,
viii); (_n_) _Th’ Overthrow of Stage-Players_ (1599, no
imprint, with epistle from Printer to Reader; 1600; 1629). This
is a print of (_c_), (_e_), (_g_), (_h_), (_i_), (_k_). All
the twelve letters are in _Oxon. C.C.C. MS._ 352 and some in
_Queen’s Coll. MS._ 359; a collection in _Univ. Coll. MS._ 157
is lost, but probably added no more. Rainolds is satirized in
the Queen’s College, Cambridge, play of _Fucus Histriomastix_
(_1623_, ed. G. C. Moore Smith, 1909), probably by Robert Ward.]
The academic controversy is fully summarized by F. S. Boas in
_Fortnightly Review_ for August 1907 and _University Drama in the Tudor
Age_ (1914), 229, together with the analysis of Gager’s defence by
K. Young in _An Elizabethan Defence of the Stage_ (1916, _Wisconsin
Shakespeare Studies_, 103). I only quote the reference in the Epistle
to _Th’ Overthrow_ of 1599 to ‘Men ... that haue not been afraied of
late dayes to bring vpon the Stage the very sober countenances, graue
attire, modest and matronelike gestures, and speaches of men & women to
be laughed at as a scorne and reproch to the world’.
li. 1597 (?). JOHN HARINGTON.
[From _A Treatise on Playe_, printed in _Nugae_, i. 191. I
retain Park’s date of ‘circa 1597’, although I doubt whether
it is based on anything but a conjecture that ‘this deere
yeer’ (204) may be 1595 or 1597, and the latest definite event
referred to is the death of Hatton on 20 Nov. 1591. The treatise
deals mainly with gambling.]
One sayd merely that ‘enterludes weare the divells sarmons, and jesters
the divells confessors; thease for the most part disgracing of vertue,
and those not a little gracinge of vices’. But, for my part, I commend
not such sowere censurers, but I thinke in stage-playes may bee much
good, in well-penned comedies, and specially tragedies; and I remember,
in Cambridge, howsoever the presyser sort have banisht them, the wyser
sort did, and still doe mayntayn them.
lii. 1598. FRANCIS MERES.
[From _Palladis Tamia: Wit’s Treasury_ (S. R. 7 Sept. 1598).
The general attitude of the treatise is humanist, but it is
only of value for the incidental notices and appreciations
of contemporary writers given in a rather fantastic series
of parallels between classical and Elizabethan literature.
Fuller extracts, including some personalia on Shakespeare and
other playwrights, not reprinted here, are in C. M. Ingleby,
_Shakspere Allusion-Books_, Part I (1874, _N. S. S._), 151, and
Gregory Smith, ii. 308.]
Our famous and learned Lawreat masters of England would entitle our
English to far greater admired excellency if either the Emperor
Augustus, or Octauia his sister, or noble Mecaenas were aliue to
rewarde and countenaunce them; or if our witty Comedians and stately
Tragedians (the glorious and goodlie representers of all fine witte,
glorified phrase, and queint action) bee still supported and vphelde,
by which meanes for lacke of Patrones (O ingratefull and damned
age) our Poets are soly or chiefly maintained, countenaunced, and
patronized....
... A COMPARATIUE DISCOURSE OF OUR ENGLISH POETS WITH THE GREEKE,
LATINE, AND ITALIAN POETS....
... As Plautus and Seneca are accounted the best for Comedy and
Tragedy among the Latines: so Shakespeare among the English is the
most excellent in both kinds for the stage. For Comedy, witnes his
_Gentlemen of Verona_, his _Errors_, his _Loue Labors Lost_, his _Loue
Labours Wonne_, his _Midsummers Night Dreame_, and his _Merchant of
Venice_; For Tragedy, his _Richard the 2_, _Richard the 3_, _Henry the
4_, _King Iohn_, _Titus Andronicus_, and his _Romeo and Iuliet_....
... These are our best for Tragedie, The Lorde Buckhurst, Doctor Leg of
Cambridge, Doctor Edes of Oxford, Master Edward Ferris, the author of
the _Mirror for Magistrates_, Marlow, Peele, Watson, Kid, Shakespeare,
Drayton, Chapman, Decker, and Beniamin Iohnson.
As M. Anneus Lucanus writ two excellent tragedies, one called _Medea_,
the other _De incendio Troiae cum Priami calamitate_: so Doctor Leg
hath penned two famous tragedies, the one of _Richard the 3_, the other
of _The Destruction of Ierusalem_....
... The best for Comedy amongst vs bee Edward, Earle of Oxforde, Doctor
Gager of Oxforde, Master Rowley, once a rare scholler of learned
Pembrooke Hall in Cambridge, Maister Edwardes, one of Her Maiesties
Chappell, eloquent and wittie Iohn Lilly, Lodge, Gascoyne, Greene,
Shakespeare, Thomas Nash, Thomas Heywood, Anthony Mundye, our best
plotter, Chapman, Porter, Wilson, Hathway, and Henry Chettle....
As Georgius Buchananus’ _Iepthae_ amongst all moderne Tragedies is able
to abide the touch of Aristotle’s precepts and Euripedes’s examples: so
is Bishop Watson’s _Absalon_. As ... Watson for his _Antigone_ out of
Sophocles, ha[s] got good commendations: so these versifiers for their
learned translations are of good note among vs ... the Translators
of Seneca’s _Tragedies_, ... As Antipater Sidonius was famous for
extemporall verse in Greeke, and Ouid for his _Quicquid conabar dicere
versus erat_: so was our Tarleton, of whome Doctor Case, that learned
physitian, thus speaketh in the Seuenth Booke and seuenteenth chapter
of his _Politikes: Aristoteles suum Theodoretum laudauit quendam
peritum Tragœdiarum actorem, Cicero suum Roscium: nos Angli Tarletonum,
in cuius voce et vultu omnes iocosi affectus, in cuius cerebroso capite
lepidae facetiae habitant_. And so is now our wittie Wilson, who for
learning and extemporall witte in this facultie is without compare or
compeere, as, to his great and eternall commendations, he manifested in
his challenge at the _Swanne_ on the Banke Side.
liii. 1603. HENRY CROSSE.
[From _Vertues Commonwealth: Or The Highway to Honour_,
reprinted in A. B. Grosart, _Occasional Issues_, vii (1878),
111.]
Must the holy Prophets and Patriarkes be set vpon a Stage, to be
derided, hist, and laught at? or is it fit that the infirmities of
holy men should be acted on a Stage, whereby others may be inharted
to rush carelessly forward into vnbrideled libertie?... Furthermore,
there is no passion wherwith the king, the soueraigne maiestie of the
Realme was possest, but is amplified, and openly sported with, and made
a May-game to all the beholders.... If a man will learne to be proud,
fantasticke, humorous, to make love, sweare, swagger, and in a word
closely doo any villanie, for a twopenny almes hee may be throughly
taught and made a perfect good scholler.... And as these copper-lace
gentlemen growe rich, purchase lands by adulterous Playes, & not fewe
of them vsurers and extortioners, which they exhaust out of the purses
of their haunters, so are they puft vp in such pride and selfe-loue,
as they enuie their equalles, and scorne theyr inferiours.... But
especially these nocturnall and night Playes, at vnseasonable and
vndue times, more greater euils must necessarily proceed of them,
because they do not onely hide and couer the thiefe, but also entice
seruants out of their maisters houses, wherby opportunitie is offered
to loose fellowes, to effect many wicked stratagems.... To conclude,
it were further to be wished, that those admired wittes of this age,
Tragædians, and Comædians, that garnish Theaters with their inuentions,
would spend their wittes in more profitable studies, and leaue off to
maintaine those Anticks, and Puppets, that speake out of their mouthes:
for it is pittie such noble giftes, should be so basely imployed, as to
prostitute their ingenious labours to inriche such buckorome gentlemen.
liv. 1604–5 (?). BEN JONSON.
[Prologue to _Every Man In His Humour_, first printed in Folio
of 1616, and possibly written for a Jacobean revival.]
Though neede make many _Poets_, and some such
As art, and nature haue not betterd much;
Yet ours, for want, hath not so lou’d the stage,
As he dare serue th’ill customes of the age:
Or purchase your delight at such a rate,
As, for it, he himselfe must iustly hate.
To make a child, now swadled, to proceede
Man, and then shoote vp, in one beard, and weede,
Past threescore yeeres: or, with three rustie swords,
And helpe of some few foot-and-halfe-foote words,
Fight ouer _Yorke_, and _Lancasters_ long iarres:
And in the tyring-house bring wounds, to scarres.
He rather prayes, you will be pleas’d to see
One such, to day, as other playes should be.
Where neither _Chorus_ wafts you ore the seas;
Nor creaking throne comes downe, the boyes to please;
Nor nimble squibbe is seene, to make afear’d
The gentlewomen; nor roul’d bullet heard
To say, it thunders; nor tempestuous drumme
Rumbles, to tell you when the storme doth come;
But deedes, and language, such as men doe vse:
And persons, such as _Comœdie_ would chuse,
When she would shew an Image of the times,
And sport with humane follies, not with crimes.
Except, we make ‘hem such, by louing still
Our popular errors, when we know th’are ill.
I meane such errors as you’ll all confesse
By laughing at them, they deserue no lesse:
Which when you heartily doe, there’s hope left, then,
You, that haue so grac’d monsters, may like men.
lv. 1607. BEN JONSON.
[From Epistle to _Volpone_ (cf. ch. xxiii).]