THE CONTROL OF THE STAGE
[Greek: Alla ma Di', ephê, ouk epi toutô mega phronô. All' epi tô mên;
Epi nê Dia tois aphrosin. houtoi gar ta ema neuropasta theômenoi
trephousi me.]--Xenophon, _Symposium_.
VIII
HUMANISM AND PURITANISM
[_Bibliographical Note._--Most of the material for the present
chapter, including extracts from a few pre-Elizabethan writers,
is collected in Appendix C; the more official documents in
Appendix D are occasionally drawn upon. The Puritan controversy
has been studied by C. H. Herford, _A Sketch of the History of
the English Drama in its Social Aspects_ (1881), and E. N. S.
Thompson, _The Controversy between the Puritans and the Stage_
(1903), from the academic point of view in F. S. Boas,
_University Drama in the Tudor Age_ (1914), and in relation to
the theory of dramatic criticism by H. S. Symmes, _Les Débuts
de la Critique dramatique en Angleterre jusqu'à la Mort de
Shakespeare_ (1903), and Renaissance criticism in general by J.
E. Spingarn, _History of Literary Criticism in the Renaissance_
(1899), and G. Saintsbury, _History of Criticism_, vol. ii
(1902). Useful collections of contemporary treatises are G.
Gregory Smith, _Elizabethan Critical Essays_ (1904), and J. E.
Spingarn, _Critical Essays of the Seventeenth Century_ (1908).]
The investigations of my opening book have shown clearly enough that in
the Tudor, as in the mediaeval, scheme of things there was ample room
for the stage and its players. The revelling instinct survived, and the
old native love of _mimesis_ and _spectacle_ had been reinforced by a
literary delight in the revival of classical drama and in every form of
the give and take of dialogue. Nor was the appreciation of the folk for
the ruder forms of sensational and farcical entertainment less keen; and
a period of general acceptance of the stage as an element in social life
might have been anticipated, in which it stood greatly to gain by the
more settled and less migratory habits of the royal household and the
possibilities of building up a permanent head-quarters for itself in
London which resulted from the change. Unfortunately, however, events
moved otherwise. A new factor emerged, which militated against anything
like general acceptance; and the period of the greatest literary
vitality in the development of the English drama proved to be also a
period of embittered conflict with widespread ethical and religious
tendencies, which in fact ranged over the whole of social life and was
ultimately destined to shatter, not only the stage, but the Tudor scheme
of things itself. In its main outlines the issue was that which had been
set ever since the decadent theatre of Greece and Rome came face to face
with Semitic asceticism and barbarian indifference. The traditional
dislike and contempt of the moralist for the mime had still to find
their last expression. But it is a noteworthy aspect of this new revival
of the secular struggle, that the attack came less from official
churchmanship than from those extreme champions of reformation
principles, whose zeal against abuses, and in particular against abuses
countenanced by official churchmanship, won them the name of Puritans.
The rise of Puritanism was coincident with the beginnings of the
agitation against the stage, and the growth of Puritanism in London was
the chief feature in a process which stirred the local magistracy, as
represented by the Lord Mayor and Corporation of the City, to try its
strength, with the stage as a bone of contention, against the central
authority of the Privy Council. The controversy is so important a one,
from the point of view of the history of the stage and of civilization,
that even at the risk of retraversing ground already trod, it is
desirable to consider at some length the forces that were at work.[759]
The general relation of Reformation sentiment to the drama is a matter
of rather complicated cross-currents. In the first place, there was the
humanist rediscovery of the classics, fanning into flame the enthusiasm
for Terence which had smouldered throughout the Middle Ages themselves,
and making full use in its theory of education of the school-play as a
means of inculcating pure Latinity, sound moral precepts, and
gentlemanly self-possession in the conduct of affairs. In some at least
of its manifestations this tendency is comprehensive enough to include
the professional, as well as the academic, player. An example may be
found in the treatise _De recta reipublicae administratione_ of the
German jurist, John Ferrarius. This was written in 1556 and translated
into English by William Bavande of the Middle Temple in 1559. It was
probably not without its influence upon the line of apologetic adopted
by those gentlemen of the Inns of Court to whom the London stage came to
look as its warmest supporters. For Ferrarius players are no longer the
proscribed folk of the Middle Ages. They have become one of the seven
handicrafts of the commonweal; and, provided that care is taken that
their performances shall stand with honesty, they have a function, not
merely to delight in times of recreation, but also to further morals by
ministering ensamples of virtue and goodness to be embraced, and of vice
and filthy living to be eschewed. In his short chapter, Ferrarius makes
use of two notions, which became commonplaces of Elizabethan dramatic
criticism. Both are derived from classical sources. One is Horace's
statement in the _De Arte Poetica_ of the double object of comedy in the
mingling of delight with profit;[760] the other the Plutarchan image of
the bee sucking its honey even from noxious herbs, the honey of ethical
precept from the herbs of wanton or foolish writings.[761] Even more
famous, from its glorification in _Hamlet_, is a third passage which
Ferrarius does not cite, and that is the definition of comedy,
attributed by the fourth-century grammarian Donatus to Cicero but not
discoverable in his extant works, as _imitatio vitae, speculum
consuetudinis, imago veritatis_.[762]
There were, however, other humanists who may have shared the abstract
ideal of Ferrarius, but who at any rate were sufficiently conscious of
the extent to which the popular stage of their own day fell short of
that ideal, and were in consequence led to condemn, or perhaps more
often to ignore, it. Of such was Ludovicus Vives, who devoted to
dramatic poetry a section of his work on the corruption of the arts, in
which, while accepting the Horatian account of the end of comedy, he
points out that, with the notable exception of the author of
_Celestina_, the playwrights, having been driven by the resentment of
the great against satire to find their material in love-intrigues and
similar themes, had lamentably failed to justify themselves by a proper
determination of their plots to the ends of salutary morals. Even for
Vives, Plautus and Terence are necessary to education; but he would use
his blue pencil, and is by no means so warm a champion of the Latin
drama on its ethical side as his older and more famous contemporary
Erasmus. In his formal writings on education Erasmus gives Terence the
first place amongst Latin writers, adding Plautus with more hesitation
and with a stipulation for carefully selected plays. And in a letter
written about 1489 to an anonymous friend he tilts with vehemence
against the doctrine of certain _homunciones imperituli, imo lividuli_,
who maintain that Terence is no fit reading for Christians, and explains
to their ignorance that the end of dramatic writing lies precisely in
the refutation of vice. Erasmus is closely followed by his English
disciple, Sir Thomas Elyot, whose defence of comedies in _The Governour_
(1531), as no 'doctrinall of rybaudrie' but 'a mirrour of man's life,
wherin iuell is not taught but discouered', served as a standard
authority to be quoted in support of much later apologetic. Nor is the
point of view confined to what may be called the secular wing of
humanism. The Terentian school-play is an essential feature in the
pedagogy of such convinced reformers as Philip Melanchthon at Wittenberg
and John Sturm at Strasburg,[763] and from Sturm the tradition passes
direct to one of the most scholarly and by no means one of the least
austere of early English Protestants, Roger Ascham. It is to be
observed, however, that Ascham's concern for Terence is wholly on the
side of letters and Latinity. Both Vives and Erasmus had had their
moments of uneasiness as to how far, after all, the ethics of pagan Rome
were quite meet to be assimilated by Christian youth. Vives would
expurgate both Plautus and Terence, and Erasmus Plautus at least.
Ascham, very much impressed with the demoralizing influence of Italian
books and Italian manners on English civilization, has no doubt at all
that, necessary as both Plautus and Terence are to the schoolmaster,
their matter is but 'base stuff' for the contemplation of the budding
divine or civil servant. Views similar to Ascham's had already
established themselves amongst both Catholic and Protestant teachers,
and the attempt to combine Roman impeccability of phrase with Christian
impeccability of theme and incident had produced the remarkable dramatic
type known as the 'Christian Terence'.[764] This had had its vernacular,
as well as its Latin, developments in many lands. Its acceptability in
the eyes of the earlier reformers in England may be illustrated from the
chapter _De honestis ludis_, which forms part of the treatise _De regno
Christi_ written by Martin Bucer as a New Year's gift for Edward VI in
1551.[765] Bucer allows of plays, both for the exercise of youth, and
for the honest and not unprofitable delectation of the public. They must
be written by learned and pious men, and may be either comedies or
tragedies, which deal respectively with mean and exalted actions. For
comic themes he instances the dissension between the shepherds of
Abraham and Lot, the marriage of Isaac and Rebecca, and Jacob's service
amongst the flocks of Laban; and he expounds no less than six moral
lessons which the first of these plots may serviceably inculcate. As for
tragedy, the histories of patriarchs, kings, prophets, and apostles,
from Adam onwards, are full of those [Greek: peripeteiai] upon which
Aristotle lays such stress. It is from such sources that Christians
should draw their poetry, rather than from the impious fables and
histories of the Gentiles. And care must be taken to let vice awaken a
horror of sin and well-doing a sense of the divine grace; for
edification is to be the end of the action, even if, in order to attain
it, some sacrifice of literary decorum is necessitated. Bucer holds that
plays conceived in this spirit may with advantage be performed by youth
in the vernacular, as well as in Greek and Latin; and declares that some
have already been written which, although men of secular learning may
miss in them the literary graces to be found in the comedies of
Aristophanes, Plautus, and Terence and the tragedies of Sophocles,
Euripides, and Seneca, are yet to be preferred for their religious
character to pieces whose effect upon morality can only be deplorable.
It is to be noticed that Bucer proposes to submit all plays before
production to the judgement of persons at once expert in the dramatic
art and of sound divinity, one of whose functions it shall be to let
nothing which is _leve aut histrionicum_ be shown. This is interesting
not only because it anticipates the actual Tudor experiments in a
dramatic censorship, but also because it indicates that the idea of a
censorship arose out of ethical, as well as out of merely political,
considerations. It is possible that Bucer may have been familiar with
the actual working of the system at Geneva, to which further reference
will presently be made.
In actual practice the Protestant religious drama, whether it was
imitating Latin comedy or advancing on the lines of the popular
morality, used the Scriptures with some discrimination. It drew freely
upon the historical books and upon the parables. The parable of the
prodigal son, in particular, perhaps because it was so obviously
cognate to beloved Terentian themes, became the parent of a copious
dramatic literature, both in Christian Latin and in all the vernaculars.
The central topics, the mysteries of the faith in creation, fall, and
incarnation, and the life of Christ himself, were much more charily
touched. This may have been due to a reprobation of the methods of the
miracle-plays, which is itself traceable to more than one cause.
Protestant reverence could hardly fail to reinforce the criticism of the
_leve aut histrionicum_ in the popular representations, which often made
itself heard even amongst orthodox Churchmen. Luther is at one with
Ludovicus Vives on the point.[766] And Protestantism had its own
particular ground of quarrel with the miracle-plays, in that they were
hardly dissociable from the Catholic doctrines of transubstantiation and
the like, which their great feast-day of Corpus Christi had been
specially invented to glorify. Certainly the decadence of the Corpus
Christi play sets in pretty quickly after the middle of the sixteenth
century, and in more than one instance the hand of the Protestant
reformer is to be traced in the process.[767] It is of the Corpus
Christi plays, as well as of the Hock-play at Coventry, that Robert
Laneham is thinking when he regrets 'the zeal of certain theyr
Preacherz: men very commendabl for their behauiour and learning, & sweet
in their sermons, but sumwhat too sour in preaching awey theyr
pastime'.[768] An exception to the normal temper of Protestantism in
this respect is to be found in that fiery protagonist of the earlier
English reformation, John Bale, amongst whose few extant plays are a
_Prophetae_, a _John Baptist_, and a _Temptation_, while a list of his
various dramatic experiments, which he has himself left upon record,
indicates that they included a continuous New Testament cycle from the
_Presentation in the Temple_ to the _Resurrection_.[769]
It is, of course, in form only and not in spirit that Bale touched the
ecclesiastical compilers of the Corpus Christi plays. The author of
_Kinge Johan_ and the translator of _Pammachius_ is the typical English
figure of that characteristic sixteenth-century movement whereby the
drama, like every other form of literary expression, bound itself for a
time to the service of heretical controversy. Both the Christian
Terence and the vernacular morality contained elements which could be
readily adapted to the purposes of polemic, no less than to those of
edification; and Bale appears to have been the principal agent of
Cromwell's statecraft in what was probably a deliberate attempt to
capture so powerful an engine as the stage in the interests of
Protestantism. And it is to be observed that this movement was not
confined to those academic branches of the drama in which it may be
supposed to have had its origin. For once the theologian and the
_histrio_ laid aside their ancient antagonism, and not in school and
college refectories only, but in every inn-yard and on every village
green, the praises of the pure Gospel were sung, and Pope and priests
were derided in play, at the bidding of the wily Privy Seal. Of this
there is sufficient evidence in the passionate protest of Bale after
Cromwell had fallen, and the players' mouths had been shut by the _Act_
for the _Advancement of true Religion_ in 1543.[770]
None leave ye unvexed and untrobled, no, not so much as the
poore minstrels, and players of enterludes, but ye are doing
with them. So long as they played lyes, and sange baudy songes,
blasphemed God, and corrupted men's consciences, ye never
blamed them, but were verye well contented. But sens they
persuaded the people to worship theyr Lorde God aryght,
accordyng to hys holie lawes and not yours, and to acknoledge
Jesus Chryst for their onely redeemer and Saviour without your
lowsie legerdemains, ye never were pleased with them.
No doubt many things were changed in English Protestantism after the
days of the Marian exile; and a ready explanation of the active Puritan
hostility to the stage is afforded by the substitution of a Calvinist
for a Lutheran bias in the conduct of the Reformation. But the
antithesis must not be pressed too far. Assuredly the returning
preachers brought with them a new seriousness in their view of life and
a haunting mistrust of the moral evils lurking even in innocent modes of
recreation. The 'merry England' of tradition formed no part of their
ideal. Moreover, they were less in bondage than their predecessors of
Henry's reign to the prestige of secular learning, and less likely to be
impressed, therefore, by the literary and educational significance of
the drama. But so far as the popular stage is concerned, there is no
reason to suppose that they would have failed to see eye to eye with
John Bale himself, for it is pretty clear from the passage quoted above
that Bale's tolerance of the interlude-players was entirely conditioned
by the polemical use he had been enabled to make of them, and that,
apart from what he chose to regard as their conversion, they would have
had short shrift at his hands. Now by the time of the Puritans this
break in the normal relations of the stage to the pulpit had come to an
end. The drama of Protestant controversy survived its original
manipulator, Cromwell. It flourished greatly under Edward VI. It won the
imitation of the Catholics under Mary. And when Elizabeth came, its
exponents made haste to re-enter a field which was probably by now
capable of yielding profit in a worldly as well as a spiritual sense. It
is clear that at the beginning of the reign Elizabeth and her ministers
deliberately continued Cromwell's policy of encouraging stage-polemic.
During the Christmas of 1558 the court and the streets were full of
masks, in which cardinals, bishops, and abbots were held up to derision
as crows, asses, and wolves.[771] During the debates on the Act of
Uniformity in the following spring, Abbot Feckenham protested against
the way in which 'by the onely preachers and scaffold players of this
newe religion, all thinges are turned up-side downe'.[772] Almost
simultaneously the dispatches of Venetian agents mention the prevalence
of anti-Catholic plays in hostels and taverns, and dwell particularly
upon one performance in which Philip and Mary and Cardinal Pole were
represented in exposition of their religious views.[773] The inwardness
of the movement is made clear by a letter of the Duke of Féria to Philip
himself, in which he reports Elizabeth's diplomatic repudiation of the
insolent pieces, and adds that he knew for a fact that the arguments
were given to the players by none other than Sir William Cecil.[774] The
Elizabethan methods of government were tortuous, and it is a little
difficult to say how long the licence of the stage to deal with matters
of religion lasted. Ostensibly the proclamation of 16 May 1559,
presumably issued in deference to De Feria's complaints, brought it to a
very definite stop. But it was one thing to issue a proclamation and
another to see that it was enforced; and as late as the June of 1562 we
find De Feria's successor, the Bishop of Aquila, still protesting
against Elizabeth's failure to carry out her perpetual promises, by
suppressing the books, farces, and songs which were written in dishonour
of his royal master.[775] The burden of these, however, may have been
political rather than strictly religious. Certainly, when Elizabeth
considered that she had 'settled' the affairs of the Church, it in no
way remained part of her intention that they should continue to be
matter for public debate. Nor is it likely that the extreme vulgarities
of Protestant controversy were altogether to her private taste. Already
during the Christmas of 1559 a play at court had been broken off for
some unknown offence, and when some Cambridge students pursued the queen
to Hinchinbrook in the autumn of 1564 with a scandalous dramatic parody
of Catholic ritual, the royal displeasure was unmistakable.[776]
Meanwhile the pulpit attacks upon the 'fleshly and filthy' sayings and
doings of players begin with Bishop Alley's St. Paul's sermon delivered
in 1561, and it is natural to suppose that the temporary alliance
between Church and Stage was already dissolved and the normal hostility
restored, before Bishop Grindal came to pen his vehement outburst to
Cecil on 23 February 1564 in favour of the permanent inhibition of the
'_histriones_, common playours', that 'idle sorte off people, which have
ben infamouse in all goode common weales'. The theory that the first
controversial phase of the Elizabethan popular drama was but of short
duration need not be regarded as invalidated by the fact that plays of
distinctly Protestant type continued to be published until at least the
third decade of the reign. There is no very obvious proof that these
plays were performed at all, and certainly none that they belonged to
the popular rather than the academic stage. Moreover, there is no reason
to suppose that the dates of composition fell anywhere near the dates of
publication, and in some cases such evidence as is available points to a
period very shortly after Elizabeth's accession. Several Protestant
plays of Edwardian or earlier origin were apparently revived by
publishers at about the same time.[777] In some of these the closing
prayers have been altered so as to apply to Elizabeth, and a similar
revision has taken place in the text, extant only in manuscript, of
Bale's _Kinge Johan_. This seems to be evidence, perhaps more certainly
as regards the manuscript than as regards the prints, of actual
performance during the new reign.
If, then, what might have been the natural attitude of the earlier
English Protestantism to the popular stage was deflected by something of
an accident, it is also not quite true to suppose that Calvinism was
always and everywhere uncompromisingly opposed to the drama in its more
respectable forms. Calvin himself was not unaffected by humanist
influences, and more than one of his near associates, notably Theodore
Beza, his successor at Geneva, are to be reckoned amongst academic
playwrights. The annals of stage-history at Geneva throw a valuable
light upon the order of ideas from which the Puritans started. During
the later Middle Ages the city had taken its full delight in
_spectacula_ of many kinds. The abuses connected with these had formed
the subject of constant ecclesiastical prohibitions, the tradition of
which had only been continued by the reformers.[778] Calvin's principal
forerunner, William Farel, had published _theses_ at Bâle in 1524, in
which he laid down abstinence from disguisings as a counsel of
perfection.[779] But he did not succeed in making his principles wholly
operative at Geneva, and even when, after an abortive attempt in 1537,
the so-called 'theocracy' was finally established by Calvin's
constitutions of 1541, there was no absolute condemnation, except for
the clergy, of plays.[780] Dances were prohibited and such heathen
ceremonies as the _Roi-boit_ at Twelfth Night and the _Mardigras_[781];
but it seems to have been thought sufficient to leave plays under the
close inspection and control of the body of ministers, whose functions
included the maintenance of Church discipline with the aid of a
consistory of elders, and the advising of the secular town council on
all matters appertaining to faith and morals. It was not long, however,
before more radical views began to commend themselves to a certain
section of the ministers, and the question came to a serious issue in
some stormy episodes of the year 1546. On 2 May, being Quasimodo Sunday,
the council had permitted the performance of a morality by one Roux
Monet and others. They had before them a certificate from the ministers
that it was of an edifying character, although some grumbling persons
declared that its object was to ridicule and satirize the
tradesmen.[782] About a month later, two fresh applications came before
them. One was apparently from a troupe of travelling players and
acrobats, and this was summarily refused as likely to cause
scandal.[783] The other was more plausible. Some local _joueurs des
ystoires_ desired to represent for the edification of the people a
dramatization of _The Acts of the Apostles_. The council ordered the
book of the piece to be submitted to Calvin, and agreed that it might
be performed, should his report be favourable. Calvin and the other
ministers did not much like the proposal, more particularly as the
players declined to give alms to the poor out of the profits of the
enterprise. It so happened, however, that one of the ministers, Abel
Poupin, was himself the author of the play, and partly because of this,
and partly because he was not sure that an attempt to prevent the
performance would be successful, Calvin seems to have persuaded his
colleagues to offer no objection. The formal sanction of the council was
therefore given, and Abel Poupin was ordered to make himself responsible
for the conduct of the play. Reading between the lines, we may perhaps
discern some resentment amongst the ministers, not only at the
performance itself, which they considered a waste of money that might
have gone in charity, but also at the domineering attitude adopted by
Calvin and Poupin. Even while the matter was still under discussion, one
of them, Philibert de Beauxlieux, was haled before the consistory for
saying that Calvin was taking the part of the Pope and Poupin that of
the cardinal. And when the decision was arrived at there was an
outbreak. A preacher of fiery temper, Michel Cop, got into the pulpit
and denounced the play, accusing the women performers of a shameless
desire to display themselves in public and thereby ensnare the eyes of
men. For this he was summoned before the council; but Calvin took his
part, and although they had differed as to the toleration of the play,
claimed that Cop had only exercised the preacher's proper liberty in
saying freely what he thought on a question of morals.[784] The
documents concerning this incident include, in addition to numerous
entries in official registers, two private letters from Calvin to
Farel,[785] in which he describes what had taken place, and makes it
clear that his own willingness to allow the play arose from motives of
expediency and from a feeling that there were limits to the pressure
which could be put upon the public to abstain from recreation. In reply
the aged reformer anticipated the probable future destiny of the
frequenters of plays in terms which recall the worst ferocities of
Tertullian on this subject.[786] Something more may be gathered as to
Calvin's personal attitude towards plays from a sermon preached in 1556,
in which he expounds the prohibition of the change of sex-costume in
_Deuteronomy_ xxii. 5 as an absolute one, and as applying particularly
to the wearing of men's dresses by women and of women's dresses by men
in masks and mummeries.[787] This is an exegesis which counted for a
good deal in the Puritan criticism of a stage in which boys habitually
took the female parts.
Abel Poupin's much-discussed _Acts of the Apostles_ was duly given, and
the council ordered themselves _loges_ at the public expense to see the
show, and decreed a four days' suspension of arrest for debt in honour
of the occasion. Shortly afterwards the ministers approached the council
as a body in order to urge that the money devoted to plays might be
better bestowed on the poor, and it was thereupon resolved that no more
_ystoyres_ should be given '_jusque lon voye le temps plus
propre_'.[788] This determination must, I think, have been motived by
some temporary conditions of special economic distress, for it was far
from being the end of plays in Geneva. In the following year, 1547,
Richard Chaultemps and his wife and children were refused permission for
a _jeu de passe-temps_, which was thought contrary to Christianity, and
were given a _teston_ to go on their way. On the other hand, the council
attended officially in the same year at a performance of a Latin
dialogue '_du livre de Joseph_' by the scholars of the college. In 1548
a wandering _tragechieur_ was allowed to perform on condition of
avoiding any '_chose contre Dieu_'. In 1549 the scholars played a comedy
of Terence in a meadow, and received a gift of two crowns for a banquet.
In 1551 the council forbade the recitation of a _ballade_ by Abel Poupin
at a banquet, but sanctioned a '_petite farce de joyeuseté_' for
recreation's sake. In 1558 the seigneurs of Berne paid a visit to Geneva
and one Maître Enoch proposed a play on a subject taken from the Berne
_armoiries_ of Jupiter and Europa, and another on the execution of five
Berne scholars at Lyons. This application was referred to Calvin for a
report. In 1560 the reprinting of Beza's tragedy of _Abraham's
Sacrifice_ was approved by the consistory. In 1561 Conrad Badius's
comedy of _Le Pape Malade_ was performed in the college hall and
afterwards printed, and permission was also given for a comedy by Jerome
Wyart, '_si M. Calvin est de cet avis_'. An interval of some years
without plays followed, until in 1568 the series was resumed with
Jacques Bienvenu's comedy of _Le Monde Malade et Mal Pansé_.[789] It is
hardly necessary to carry the record further, since the proof is
sufficient that, whatever the private opinions of some of the ministers
may have been, the actual working of the theocracy was not inconsistent
with the production, under a careful censorship, of academic or
bourgeois plays, or even, although more rarely, of entertainments of the
type afforded by a professional _tragechieur_. It was not until 1572
that the Synod of Nîmes passed a constitution for the whole of the
French reformed churches, by which all plays, other than those of a
strictly educational character, were forbidden.[790]
It must be doubtful whether even this decree would have fully met the
views of Michel Cop and his supporters. At any rate, it is possible to
trace the growth of a sentiment amongst English theologians of the
Calvinistic persuasion, which was not prepared to exclude the academic
play from the general condemnation of things theatrical. Naturally this
tendency shows itself mainly at the Universities, where tragedies and
comedies, both in Latin and in English, continued to be part of the
ordinary exercise of youth, especially when Christmas was kept or
entertainment had to be found for a royal visit, and where men of high
ecclesiastical standing, such as James Calfhill, Penitentiary of St.
Paul's and Lady Margaret Professor of Divinity, did not disdain to
furnish dramas for the use of their scholars.[791] So far as Cambridge
is concerned, we find Vice-Chancellor Beaumont reporting to Archbishop
Parker in 1565 that 'two or three in Trinity College think it very
unseeming that Christians should play or be present at any profane
comedies or tragedies'.[792] We find Sir John Harington, who was an
undergraduate from 1576 to 1578, noting his recollection about 1597 that
'in Cambridge, howsoever the presyser sort have banisht them, the wyser
sort did, and still doe mayntayn them'. And we find John Smith of
Christ's haled before the University for an unguarded attack upon the
less strict practice of his fellows in a Lenten sermon of 1586.[793] It
was at Oxford, however, that the divergence of opinion became most
articulate. The protagonist was John Rainolds, afterwards President of
Corpus Christi College, and a man of great influence in the Puritan
party, whom he represented at the Hampton Court Conference of 1604.
Rainolds first touched the question, to which his attention was probably
called by the dispute then raging in London, with a passing allusion to
the '_pestes scenicorum, theatralia spectacula_' as one of the great
interruptions to Oxford studies, in his preface to some disputations
published in 1581. There is no reason to suppose that he voiced the
general view of the University, and in particular of those of its
members who were still under the influence of the humanist spirit.
Probably these were better represented by the commentaries on the
_Ethics_ and _Politics_ of Aristotle published by John Case, Fellow of
St. John's College, in his _Speculum moralium quaestionum_ (1585) and
_Sphaera civitatis_ (1588). Case commends plays, provided that they are
an expression of _comitas_, the Aristotelian [Greek: eutrapelia], and
not of its excess _scurrilitas_. They are sanctioned by the use of
antiquity, and they give a lively picture of antiquity itself. They
teach experience of things and of the human heart, and afford
training--it is the _scenae trigemina corona_--in the management of the
voice, the features, the gestures. All this is, of course, in the
traditional humanist vein. Some of the current criticisms of the drama
are quoted, only to be refuted. It is not necessarily _indecorum_ for a
man to wear the dress of a harlot on the stage, if his object is to
expose the vices of harlotry, '_non est enim monstrum vestes sed mores
meretricis induere_'. It is true that the Fathers condemned plays, but
they had in mind the abuses of plays and in particular the devotion of
plays to the service of idols. It is ridiculous to hold that the dignity
of kingship is offended if it is impersonated by an actor. The offence
is no more than when the outlines of a king are represented in a
picture. No doubt Case has the academic drama almost wholly in his mind,
and would have been inclined to dismiss the professional stage
contemptuously enough as _scurrilitas_.[794] He is certainly careful to
make it clear that the plays of which he approves are not '_inanes et
histrionicae fabulae, Veneris illecebrae_', but witty comedies and
magnificent tragedies '_in quibus expressa imago vitae morumque
cernitur_'. He did not convince John Rainolds; it is just possible that
the ninepin arguments, which in true scholastic fashion he set up and
knocked down again, were hardly to be accepted as an adequate statement
of the Puritan position. Rainolds evidently acquired a reputation in the
University for 'preciseness' as regards the drama; and the time came
when the academic playwrights thought it well to challenge him in
public. Their champion was Dr. William Gager of Christ Church, two of
whose plays, _Ulysses Redux_ and _Rivales_, were down for performance by
the Christ Church students during the Christmas of 1591-2. Rainolds was
invited by one Thomas Thornton to see the _Ulysses Redux_. He refused
and being pressed gave his reasons. It was not therefore unnatural that
when Gager appended to the _Hippolytus_, which was also given, a new
apologetical epilogue in which arguments against the stage, very similar
to those of Rainolds, were put into the mouth of one Momus, our
theologian should infer that by Momus none other was intended than
himself. He must have cried '_Touché_', and thereby gave Gager an
opportunity of sending him a printed copy of _Ulysses_, with an
enlarged epilogue and a repudiation of any personal intention in the
character of Momus. This led to a letter from Rainolds, in which he set
out his views upon the stage at great length and with considerable
learning, to a reply from Gager, who was or professed to be stung by
some of the reflections cast by Rainolds upon the Christ Church men, and
to a rejoinder from Rainolds, in which he reiterated his original
arguments with even greater elaboration. His main contentions were four
in number. Firstly, he laid stress upon the _infamia_ with which the
Roman praetors had 'noted' _histriones_, and refused to accept Gager's
pleas that this only applied to those who played for gain, or that
gentlemen who only appeared upon the stage rarely and at long intervals
could not properly be called _histriones_ at all. Secondly, he adopted
Calvin's interpretation of the Deuteronomic prohibition of the change of
sex-costume as an absolute one, belonging to the moral and not merely
the ceremonial law. Gager had taken the view, which later on had the
support of the learned Selden, and which to a folklorist hardly needs
demonstration, that what Moses had in mind was a change of costume
forming part of an idolatrous ritual; and had also committed himself to
the weaker argument that a man might justifiably, as Achilles did, put
on a woman's clothing to save his life. The latter Rainolds denied, and
pointed out that, even if it held good, it would hardly cover a change
designed for a purely histrionic purpose. His third argument was based
on the moral deterioration entailed by counterfeiting wanton behaviour
in a play; and his fourth on the waste both of time and money involved.
He does not wish to be thought an enemy either of poetry or of
reasonable recreation, but he expresses a doubt whether some hours were
not spent over Gager's plays that ought to have been spent at sermons.
The theory of humanistic educators that acting teaches lads
self-confidence he is not prepared to admit as a sufficient
justification of their practice. The debate is, of course, a good deal
complicated by topics of mere erudition and by disputes as to whether
Momus was really meant as a caricature of Rainolds, or as to whether
Rainolds's abstract argument about _infamia_ bore the concrete
implication that such honest youths as the Christ Church students or so
well-voiced a musician as the Master of the Choristers, who had played
with them, were in fact _infames_, or as to the extent of approval
implied by the presence of University dignitaries and of the queen
herself at performances of Gager's pieces. Anyway, said Rainolds, the
queen's laws set down players as vagabonds. Given their common
premises, it must be acknowledged that both in learning and in logic
the Puritan had the advantage over his opponent, although common sense
was on the side of the latter, and it is with some scepticism that one
reads the statement of the printer who gave Rainolds's share of the
controversy to the world in 1599, that ultimately Gager 'let goe his
hold, and in a Christian modestie and humilitie yeelded to the truth,
and quite altered his judgement'. My own conviction is that Gager would
have subscribed to anything, in order to have done with receiving
argumentative letters from Rainolds. But when Rainolds had disposed of
Gager, he had to meet a fresh adversary in Alberico Gentili, an Italian
who held the professorship of civil law at Oxford and had committed
himself to a different view as to the force of the praetorian _infamia_.
Between these two pundits the discussion continued for some time without
contributing much to the elucidation of the main issue. Rainolds's book,
the first line of the title of which was _Th' overthrow of
Stage-Playes_, furnished many weapons later on for the armoury of
Prynne, and material for ridicule in the play of _Fucus, sive
Histriomastix_, produced at Queens' College, Cambridge, in 1623.
The problem with which, long before the University disputants handled
the matter at all, the London Puritans had to deal, was not one of nice
differentiation between the position of the amateur and that of the
professional player. Their concern with the academic drama was
comparatively small; some at least of them were prepared to subscribe to
all the allowances for it that were made by the Synod of Nîmes.[795]
What they were face to face with was the rapid growth in London of
professional playing as a recognized occupation, using an increasing
number of playing-places, almost entirely free from control on its
ethical side, and tending more and more to become a permanent element in
the life of the community. And the attitude of condemnation which they
adopted was in the main one in which Lutheran, Calvinist, and humanist,
Case and Gager no less than Rainolds, would in theory at least have
concurred. The writings against the stage, especially those of the
critical period from 1576 to 1583, are of a very heterogeneous
character. The most important are, on the one hand, long passages in two
treatises by ministers devoted to the flagellation of social evils
generally, the _Dicing, Dauncing, Vaine Playes, or Enterludes_ (1577) of
John Northbrooke, and the _Anatomie of Abuses_ (1583) of Phillip
Stubbes; and on the other, three special pamphlets by sometime
playwrights who had embraced conversion, and had the advantage of
speaking from inner knowledge of the profession they were attacking. Of
these two, _The Schoole of Abuse_ (1579) and _Playes Confuted in Five
Actions_ (1582) were by Stephen Gosson, who became the vicar of St.
Botolph's in the City, and the third was by Anthony Munday, who, as
Gosson put it, returned to his own vomit again, and resumed
play-writing. Munday's contribution was the _Third Blast_ of a composite
publication issued under the title of _A Second and Third Blast of
Retrait from Plaies and Theaters_ (1580). The _Second Blast_ was a
translation of the chapter against _spectacula_ from Salvian's
fifth-century _De Gubernatione Dei_.[796] These five books form the main
indictment of the stage, as it developed itself at Puritan hands or
under Puritan influences. In addition there were many minor onslaughts,
in sermons by Thomas White (1577), John Stockwood (1578), and others at
the famous City pulpit of Paul's Cross, in works of devotional theology,
such as Gervase Babington's _Exposition of the Commandements_ (1583),
and in many examples of the miscellaneous literature that stood for
modern journalism. The arguments used in support of the attack are
naturally various. Some of them coincide with those used later by
Rainolds at Oxford. Calvin's objection, based on Deuteronomy, to the
wearing of women's clothes by boys makes its appearance.[797] The
condemnations of _histriones_ by the Fathers and by the austerer pagans
are applied without discrimination to their Elizabethan successors, and
there is a deliberate attempt to brand these alike with the Roman note
of _infamia_ and with the more recent stigma of vagabondage. The
historical disquisitions lay much stress on the origin of pagan plays in
idolatry. Gosson, who in his second book affects a methodical treatment
of the subject, and draws upon his recollection of Aristotle for
analysis of the efficient, material, formal, final causes and effects of
plays, justifies himself from Tertullian in finding the efficient cause
of plays in none other than the incarnate Devil.[798] He also derives
from Aristotle, although he knew less of Aristotle than did John Case, a
theory that acting, being essentially the simulation of what is not, is
by its very nature 'with in the compasse of a lye, which by Aristotle's
judgment is naught of it selfe and to be fledde'.[799] A similar
doctrine is readily applied to the imaginations of poets which give
actors their opportunity.[800] As Touchstone puts it, poetry is not
'honest in deed and word' nor 'a true thing', for 'the truest poetry is
the most feigning'.[801]
Whatever weight such abstract reasonings may have carried, they were
after all but the fringes and trimmings of the controversy. The main
burden of the complaints raised by the Puritans rested neither on
theology nor on history, but on the character of the London plays as
they knew them, and on the actual conditions under which representations
were given. In a stage from which Protestant polemic was now banned,
they found nothing but _scurrilitas_. They resented the impurity of
speech and gesture. They resented the scoffs at virtue and religion,
especially when these were interlaced with themes taken, as dramatic
themes were still often taken, from the Scriptures.[802] And their
disapproval was hardly less when the plays were wholly secular, for in
tragedies they could discern nothing but examples to honest citizens of
murders, treacheries, and rebellions, and in comedies nothing but
demoralizing pictures of intrigues and wantonness. Plays, they declared,
are the snares of the devil set to catch souls. By plays the imagination
of youth is corrupted, and matronly chastity first turned to thoughts of
sin. With their ready touch upon vituperative rhetoric, they found for
the theatre a string of nicknames of which Gosson's 'the school of
abuse' was the model, and 'the school of bawdery', 'the nest of the
devil', 'the consultorie of Satan', may serve as further samples. And
what the plays began, they held that the surroundings of the playhouses
were only too well adapted to finish. In them was focused all the sin of
the city. Here men came, not merely to waste their time and their money,
but to meet wantons, and to whisper dishonourable proposals in the ears
of any respectable women with whom they found themselves in company. The
constant presence of harlots amongst the audience, the dallying with
them in the front of the galleries, the manning of them home afterwards,
even if the buildings adjacent to the stage did not themselves afford a
convenient shelter for ill-doing, are dwelt upon with a vigour of
description which perhaps testifies to the horror wherewith this
connexion of the stage with sexual immorality had affected the Puritan
mind.[803]
Above all, there was Sabbatarianism to be taken into account. During the
earlier part of Elizabeth's reign, Sunday was the usual day for plays.
The trumpets blew for the performances just as the bells were tolling
for afternoon prayer; and writer after writer bears testimony to the
fact that too often the yards and galleries were filled with an
appreciative crowd, while the preacher's sermon was unfrequented.[804]
Thus a touch of professional _amour propre_ gave its sting to the
conflict, and there is no one point that is more insisted upon in sermon
after sermon and pamphlet after pamphlet than the desecration of the
Lord's Day which the attendance at theatres directly entailed. The
preachers did not disdain an appeal to popular superstitions which they
probably themselves shared, and the visitations of plague from which
Elizabethan London regularly suffered,[805] no less than such events as
earthquakes[806] or the fall of ruinous buildings,[807] were interpreted
as tokens of divine wrath at the wickedness of plays and in particular
at the breach of the Fourth Commandment. A curious legend was whispered
abroad in various forms, to the effect that the devil himself had been
known on occasion to take an unrehearsed part in this or that godless
piece.[808]
The playwright, no less than the theologian, has a ready pen, and the
Puritan attacks naturally provoked a counter-literature of apology. This
first took shape in critical prefaces attached to such contemporary
plays, mainly of literary rather than stage origin, as reached the
honours of print.[809] Gosson's _Schoole of Abuse_, a treacherous
performance from the point of view of his former colleagues, called for
a more elaborate reply. More than one pamphlet was written, of which the
_Honest Excuses_ (_c._ 1579) Thomas Lodge has alone come down to us. The
serious argument of this, as well as of the prefaces which preceded it,
continues the main humanist tradition. Against the denunciations of the
Fathers and of certain pagan moralists, the apologists set the antiquity
of plays and the honour in which after all they were held in the palmy
days of Greece and Rome. The examples of violence and wantonness in
tragedy and comedy they justify by the moral end of drama. Decorum--the
literary sense of what is psychologically appropriate to a given
character--requires that, as George Whetstone puts it, 'grave old men
should instruct, yonge men should show the imperfections of youth,
strumpets should be lascivious, boyes unhappy, and clownes should be
disorderly'. But whether the action be merry or mournful, grave or
lascivious, the ultimate object is edification, even as the bee sucks
honey from flowers and weeds alike. 'By the rewarde of the good, the
good are encowraged in well doinge; and with the scowrge of the lewde,
the lewde are feared from evil attempts.' Comedy, no doubt, aims at
delight, but it is a delight which, on the Horatian principle, is
mingled with the useful. This appears to have been the especial theme of
the _Play of Plays and Pastimes_, in which the actors essayed their own
defence on the boards of the Theatre. Unfortunately this piece is only
known by Gosson's unfriendly account of its plot in _Playes
Confuted_.[810] It was in the form of an allegorical morality, in which
was shown the dependence of Life on Delight and Recreation as a
protection from Glut and Tediousness, and how Zeal, in order to govern
Life aright, must be reduced to Moderate Zeal and work hand in hand with
Delight, using comedies for which it is prescribed 'that the matter be
purged, deformities blazed, sinne rebuked, honest mirth intermingled,
and fitte time for the hearing of the same appointed'. It is the note of
humanism, again, which is prominent in the group of critical writings of
which the first and most important is Sir Philip Sidney's _Defence of
Poetry_ (_c._ 1583). It is reasonable to suppose that this treatise had
its origin in the train of ideas awakened by the Puritan outcries.
Gosson had dedicated _The Schoole of Abuse_ to Sidney, and as Gabriel
Harvey told Spenser, was 'for hys labor scorned; if at leaste it be in
the goodnesse of that nature to scorne'. Certainly the _Defence_ can
hardly be regarded as a direct contribution to the controversy. Sidney
was not particularly concerned to uphold the contemporary stage, and
occupied himself rather with answering a general attack upon poetry
contained in _The Schoole of Abuse_, which had been merely incidental to
Gosson's principal argument. But in the course of his discussion he
comes to examine tragedy and comedy as branches of imaginative
literature, and the definitions which he frames are conceived once more
in the full spirit of humanism. He speaks of 'high and excellent
tragedy, that openeth the greatest wounds, and showeth forth the ulcers
that are covered with tissue; that maketh kings fear to be tyrants and
tyrants manifest their tyrannical humors; that with stirring the
effects of admiration and commiseration teacheth the uncertainty of this
world, and upon how weak foundations gilden roofs are builded'. So, too,
the work of the comic poet is 'an imitation of the common errors of our
life which he representeth in the most ridiculous and scornful sort that
may be, so as it is impossible that any beholder can be content to be
such a one'. The _Defence_ was not published until 1595, but it must
have been well known in private before that, since, itself founded on
such Italian writers as Scaliger, Minturno, and Castelvetro, it in turn
furnished inspiration for William Webbe's _Discourse of English Poesie_
(1586), Puttenham's _Arte of English Poesie_ (1589), and Sir John
Harington's _Apologie of Poetrie_ (1591). All these three writers
emphasize the moral lessons of tragedy and comedy on the familiar
humanist lines.
It must be admitted that the humanist theory was not altogether
conclusive as an answer to the Puritans. These were not prepared to
accept the authority of Horace as making delight, even in conjunction
with the useful, a legitimate end, when, as they pointed out, the
delight was a carnal and not a spiritual one.[811] Nor could the
arguments in favour of decorum, which were wholly of a literary and not
an ethical nature, be expected to appeal to them. And as to the moral
lessons to be learned by witnessing plays, whether tragedies or
comedies, they were entirely sceptical. They return again and again,
with obvious irritation, to the probably mythical story of a good woman
who swore by her troth that she had been as much edified at a play as at
any sermon.[812]
If, says Northbrooke, you will learne howe to bee false and
deceyue your husbandes, or husbandes their wyues, howe to playe
the harlottes, to obtayne ones loue, howe to rauishe, howe to
beguyle, howe to betraye, to flatter, lye, sweare, forsweare,
howe to allure to whoredome, howe to murther, howe to poyson,
howe to disobey and rebell against princes, to consume
treasures prodigally, to mooue to lustes, to ransacke and
spoyle cities and townes, to bee ydle, to blaspheme, to sing
filthie songes of loue, to speake filthily, to be prowde, howe
to mocke, scoffe and deryde any nation ... shall not you
learne, then, at such enterludes howe to practise them.[813]
And if sometimes notorious evil-doers are held up to reprobation on the
stage, it seems to the preachers that such rebuke might more suitably
come from the pulpit, since in a theatre the appeal must needs be made
to an audience hardly fit to be judges in any man's cause.[814] Gosson
and Munday, having been playwrights, and having presumably suffered at
the hands of their masters, pay off old scores with another argument. If
plays had really a moral influence, would not this be apparent in the
lives of those who are most conversant with them, the players
themselves. Yet the players are not only extremely insolent and
swaggering persons, but notoriously practise in real life the very vices
which they represent on the stage. Moreover, they take young boys and
bring them up in shamelessness. How can it be expected that good shall
be done, where there is no will in the agent to do good?[815] The
inconclusiveness of the discussion was of course largely due to the fact
that the Puritan and the humanist disputants were not talking about
quite the same thing. Obviously the influence of a play, if any, upon
conduct must depend on the manner of handling and on the dramatic idea
involved; and it may be taken for granted that the ideal comedy and
tragedy, which the humanists praised and which some of them tried to
realize, were often very imperfectly represented by the actual pieces
put before a London audience. This is to some extent admitted on both
sides. Sidney is frankly contemptuous of the popular stage. Whetstone
speaks of his 'commendable exercise' as 'discredited with the tryfels of
yonge, unadvised, and rashe witted wryters'. Lodge and the author of
_The Play of Plays_ are fully conscious of abuses, which must be
remedied if the drama is to take the place assigned to it in the
humanist scheme of things. On the other hand, Gosson is fair-minded
enough to admit that certain plays, principally his own, are beyond
reproach; and even that, as compared with an earlier period than that of
which he wrote, there had been some purging of the language used on the
boards.[816] Yet, when all allowance has been made on this score, it
would seem that there must still remain some fundamental incompatibility
between the views of the Puritans and those of the humanists as regards
the psychological effects of the drama upon conduct. Perhaps this is
hardly to be wondered at. After all, the psychological effect of a
drama, or of any other work of art, is not a simple thing, but depends
upon an incalculable relation between what the artist puts into his work
and what the spectator brings to the contemplation of it. And it may
fairly be assumed that what a Sidney brought and what a limb of
Limehouse brought were sufficiently different things. Were this a
philosophic work on the drama and not merely a history of the stage, it
might be appropriate to dwell upon the fact that, however much the
Puritans and the humanists might disagree, they were at one in
referring their judgement of the drama to purely ethical standards of
value, and that the conception of aesthetic value, which means so much
for modern thought, was in the main beyond the scope of Elizabethan
criticism.
So far as the character of the particular plays put on the stage was
material, the case for the defence grew stronger as these approached
more nearly to literature. Thus Thomas Nashe, whose _Pierce Penilesse
His Supplication_ (1592) contains by far the most effective of the
apologies for the drama from a popular point of view, is in a position,
not only to vaunt the respectability of English actors as compared with
the 'squirting baudie comedians' of beyond the seas, to repudiate the
idea that rowdy apprentices were wanted in the theatres at all, and to
claim a distinct superiority for play-going over gaming, whoreing and
drinking as a pastime for courtiers and other idle men; but also to give
point to his glorification of the moral purpose of tragedy and comedy by
a special reference to the chronicle plays then at the height of their
success, 'wherein our forefathers valiant acts, that haue line long
buried in rustie brasse and worme-eaten bookes, are reuiued, and they
themselues raised from the graue of obliuion, and brought to pleade
their aged honours in open presence; than which, what can be a sharper
reproofe to these degenerate, effeminate dayes of ours?' Nashe can even
illustrate his contention from the Talbot scenes of Shakespeare's _1
Henry VI_; and it is indeed the ultimate paradox of the Puritan
controversy that a movement, which was undoubtedly designed in the
interests of honest and clean living, would have had the result, if it
had been successful, of shutting out the world from the possibilities of
a Shakespeare.
After the publication of the _Anatomie of Abuses_ in 1583 there was some
slackening in the literary warfare carried on by the Puritans. The duty
of abstinence from plays becomes a commonplace of treatises on morals
and devotion, and the preachers continue to complain, but the only
specialist pamphlet during the next quarter of a century is the
comparatively unimportant _Mirrour of Monsters_ (1587) by another cast
playwright, William Rankins. It must be doubtful whether this was due to
any decrease in the strength of the sentiment against the stage. But the
trial of forces was over, and for a time there was little further
advance to be made. Something, as will be seen in the next chapter, had
been won, so far as the observance of Sunday was concerned; on the other
hand, the main issue had been pretty definitely lost. Moreover, there
were other things to be thought of; firstly the Martin Marprelate
controversy, which for a while absorbed much ink and paper, and
secondly, the persecution which recusants had to undergo at the hands of
the dominant party in Church and State. Aggressive at the beginning of
Elizabeth's reign, by its close Puritanism had to stand on its defence.
A corresponding change in its relations with the stage was inevitable.
From an assailant, it became an object of assault. The players had never
been disposed to endure criticism without hitting back. Lewis Wager, as
early as 1566, has his word against the hypocrites, who slander plays
from fear lest their own wickedness should be revealed in public; and
one may be sure that the actor's side of the question was as
remorselessly pressed from the scaffold as that of the Puritan from the
pulpit. This tendency can only have gathered impetus from the official
encouragement given for a time to the players to intervene against
Martin Marprelate.[817] The tone of the later apologists for the stage
has become insolent rather than deprecatory. Nashe, always ready to
carry any war into the enemy's quarter, boldly ascribes the attacks upon
plays to the envy felt by vintners, alewives, and victuallers for more
respectable places of entertainment than their own, and to the
indifference to greatness of avaricious citizens, who 'know when they
are dead they shall not be brought upon the stage for any goodness, but
in a merriment of the Usurer and the Diuel, or buying Armes of the
Herald'. So, too, Henry Chettle, in his _Kind-Harts Dreame_ (1592), puts
into the mouth of the ghost of Tarleton, not only the usual serious
defence of the moral value of plays and an appeal to the youth of the
city not to disturb the peace of the theatres, but also a mock protest
from the keepers of bowling-alleys, dicing-houses, and brothels against
the competition of actors with their trades, and the discovery in jig
and jest of 'our crosse-biting, our conny-catching, our traines, our
traps, our gins, our snares, our subtilties'. Nashe and Chettle are
perhaps tilting rather at some of the civic allies of the Puritans, than
at the Puritans themselves. But the latter had to bear their full share
of the stage's revengeful triumph. The printer of _Th' Overthrow of
Stage Playes_ in 1599 notes in his preface how some 'haue not bene
afraied of late dayes to bring vpon the stage the very sober
countenances, graue attire, modest and matronelike gestures & speaches
of men & women to be laughed at as a scorne and reproch to the world'. A
detailed analysis of the satire of Puritanism in later Elizabethan and
in Jacobean comedy would pass beyond the limits of this study. For a
sample may be taken the figure of Rabbi Zeal-of-the-Land Busy in
Jonson's _Bartholomew Fair_ (1614). Busy has a scruple against eating
pig at the fair, 'for the very calling it a _Bartholmew_-pigge, and to
eat it so, is a spice of _Idolatry_, and you make the _Fayre_, no better
than one of the high _Places_'. But the lust of the flesh overcomes him,
and he eats 'two and a half to his share' and drinks 'a pailefull'.
This, however, does not dispose him to be lenient to the pride of the
eyes at the fair. He condemns a doll with 'See you not Goldylocks, the
purple strumpet, there? in her yellow gowne, and greene sleeues?' and
pulls down a pile of gingerbread cakes as 'this idolatrous groue of
images, this flasket of idols'. Naturally, his extreme wrath is against
the puppet, which he calls Dagon, and 'a beame in the eye of the
brethren; a very great beame, an exceeding great beame; such as are your
_Stage-players_, _Rimers_, and _Morrise-dancers_, who have walked hand
in hand, in contempt of the _Brethren_, and the _Cause_'. He disputes
with the puppet, and produces the 'old stale argument' of the male
putting on the apparel of the female and the female of the male, and is
finally refuted when the puppet 'takes up his garment', and reveals that
it has no sex.[818]
When Puritanism gathered head again under James, it was the sting of
caricature which directly led to the renewal of the old controversy. Two
hypocrites in _The Puritan_ (_c._ 1606) had been christened after the
churches of St. Antholin and St. Mary Overies, which were known to be
the principal centres in London of Puritan faith and practice. William
Crashaw, the father of the poet, protested in a sermon at Paul's Cross.
Two years later, he again rebuked the players for their opposition to
the Virginian expedition, which he declared to be due to pique at the
godly determination of the adventurers to take no company to their
plantation. There were other 'seditious sectists' at work, and a leading
actor of the Queen's men, who was also a prolific dramatist, Thomas
Heywood, took up the cudgels for his 'quality' against these
'over-curious heads' in an elaborate _Apology for Actors_, which must
have been written about 1608, but was not published until 1612. This
resumes, effectively enough, most of the arguments both of the humanists
and of popular disputants such as Nashe, but does not contribute
anything very novel upon a subject as to which, indeed, little novel
remained to be said, with the exception of a reminder to the preachers
that, whatever the Fathers may have thought about the Roman _ludi_,
nothing had been said against them by either Christ or his
Apostles.[819] Heywood dwells, of course, upon the established position
to which by his time actors had attained in the favour both of English
and of foreign sovereigns. But he is not blind to the abuses of his
profession, and while lauding many of his fellows as men 'of substance,
of government, of sober lives and temperate carriages, house-keepers,
and contributory to all duties enjoyned them', regrets the
licentiousness of others, as well as a growing tendency to inveigh upon
the stage both against 'the state, the court, the law, the citty', and
against 'private men's humors'.[820] Heywood was answered by one I. G.
in _A Refutation of the Apologie for Actors_ (1615), which in its turn
covered much ground already trod; and a year later another actor, Nathan
Field, was moved to a _Remonstrance_ by some personal attacks levelled
at himself and the rest of the King's men by Thomas Sutton, minister of
St. Mary Overies. This brings us to the limit of the Shakespearian
period, and in the distance still lie the final and portentous
presentation of the whole Puritan case in Prynne's _Histriomastix_
(1633), the closing of the theatres by the Long Parliament, and the
reaction of the Restoration under which men looked back to the stage of
James and Charles as a model of decency and order.[821]
There is one clear heritage of English Puritanism from the Genevan
theocracy, and that is the claim of the ministers, not only to direct
the consciences of their flocks, but also to call upon the municipal
authorities to put down with the might of the secular arm whatever in
the life of the community did not conform to the religious and ethical
standards which they preached. Most of the sermons and pamphlets of
1576-83 are quite deliberately addressed to the 'magistrate', with a
view to the exercise of the regulative powers conferred by the
proclamation of 1559 and the statute of 1572 for the remedy of the
abuses of playhouses, and if possible to the complete suppression of
playing. The City fathers, although Gosson railed against their
'sleepiness', were by no means deaf to these appeals.[822] Many of them
had themselves adopted Puritanic principles. And apart from strictly
religious considerations, they had their own reasons for looking with
disfavour upon plays. They were husbands and employers, and their wives
and apprentices wasted both time and money in gadding abroad to
theatres, at a risk to their virtue and even their honesty. They were
dignitaries, and were not invariably treated with respect upon the
boards. They were the health authority, and even if plays did not stir
the divine wrath to send a plague or an earthquake, the crowded
assemblies certainly helped to spread infection, and the rickety
structures brought hazard to life and limb.[823] They were responsible
for the maintenance of law and order, and plays were not only the
occasions for frays and riots, but also brought bad characters together,
and were suspected of affording secret opportunities for the hatching of
sedition. It must be borne in mind that, so far as the external abuses
of theatres go, the complaints of their bitterest enemies are fairly
well supported by independent evidence. The presence of improper persons
in the theatres is amply testified to by the satirists, and by
references in the plays themselves.[824] Intrigues and other nefarious
transactions were carried on there[825]; and careful mothers, such as
Lady Bacon, anxiously entreated their sons to choose more salutary
neighbourhoods for their lodgings.[826] Some serious disturbances of the
peace of which theatres were the centres will require attention in the
next chapter, while law-court and other records preserve the memory of
both grave crimes and minor misdemeanours of which they were the
scenes.[827] Like the bawdy-houses, they appear to have been at the
mercy of the traditional rowdiness of the prentices on Shrove
Tuesday.[828]
On divers grounds therefore the Corporation of London seem to have
reached the conclusion, about 1582 if not before, that the only way to
reform the theatres was to end them. Probably they were influenced by
the views of some of their permanent officials, of whom Thomas Norton,
Remembrancer from 1571 to 1584, although himself a part-author of the
tragedy of _Gorboduc_, and William Fleetwood, Recorder from 1571 to
1594, are known to have been determined opponents of the stage. The
voluminous reports on city affairs, which Fleetwood was in the habit of
sending to Lord Burghley, add much to our knowledge of a critical
period.[829] Had the matter rested wholly with the Corporation, the
policy of prohibition would doubtless have been brought into effective
operation. But it did not rest wholly with them. Not only were the most
important theatres, from 1576, outside the limits of their jurisdiction,
but also account had to be taken of an authority greater even than that
of the City of London, the authority, ill-defined but imperative, of the
Privy Council. And the Privy Council was, as a rule, swayed by
principles and personalities by no means enamoured of prohibition. Of
this the anti-stage pamphleteers show themselves fully conscious.
Gosson, addressing his _Schoole of Abuse_ to the Lord Mayor for the time
being, acknowledges the difficulties which the 'letters of
commendations' held by the companies put in the way of reform, and
laments that players share the natures of the cuttle-fish and the
torpedo, so that 'how many nets so euer ther be layde to take them, or
hookes to choke them, they haue ynke in their bowels to darken the
water, and sleights in their budgets, to dry up the arme of euery
magistrate'. In _Playes Confuted_, he prayed for 'some noble Scipio in
the courte' to drive the 'daunsing chaplines of Bacchus' out of England,
and in a prefatory epistle to Sir Francis Walsingham he declared that
the cleansing of the Augean stable was only possible for 'some Hercules
in the court, whom the roare of the enimy can never daunt'. No doubt he
hoped that the combined functions of a Scipio and of a Hercules would be
undertaken by Walsingham himself.[830] Anthony Munday is even more
explicit. He urges the city not to be daunted by 'particular men of
auctoritie', and inveighs against the nobility who 'restraine the
magistrates from executing their office', in order to pleasure servants
whom they are unwilling to maintain themselves, and therefore license to
roam throughout the country, publishing their 'mametree' in every temple
of God, and begging alms in their masters' names from house to
house.[831] The Council, however, were by no means disposed to give the
City a free hand, and with themselves the policy of prohibition made
little headway. They had, indeed, to reconcile conflicting
considerations. They too, like the Lord Mayor and Aldermen, feared the
opportunities for riots and seditions which the theatres afforded;[832]
and the danger of the spread of plague was their constant preoccupation.
Moreover, they were especially concerned to see that the players did not
touch upon matters of state or religion, and to visit with sharp
chastisement any offences in these directions. They frequently,
therefore, thought it well to intervene with temporary inhibitions of
plays, particularly during hot summers when the anticipations of plague
were at their greatest. But they were never prepared to assent to the
chronic request of the City that these inhibitions should be made
permanent. After all, the people must have their recreation, and, what
was more, the Queen must have hers.[833] And if her majesty's 'solace'
at Christmas was to be provided upon economical terms, it was necessary
that the players should be allowed facilities for 'exercise', and
incidentally for earning their living, through public performances.[834]
In a sense, therefore, it was really the Court play which saved the
popular stage, and enabled the companies to establish themselves in a
position which neither preachers nor aldermen could shake. One may
suppose that the members of the Privy Council did not all quite see eye
to eye on the theatrical question; and there were occasional
fluctuations of policy which caused alarm in the tiring-rooms. Even in
the high quarters where the natural attitude to the drama was that of
humanism, Puritan sympathies were sometimes to be found. Leicester,
indeed, who frequently curried favour with the Puritans, failed them in
this respect, as may be seen from a letter written in 1581 by John
Field, minister of the word of God, and author of an _Exhortation_ on
the fall of Paris Garden, in which he rebukes Leicester for his
patronage of plays 'to the great greife of all the godly'.[835] Burghley
may have been personally inclined to the views of his friend and
correspondent William Fleetwood, although even at the end of his long
life he had not forgotten the services of the stage to his earlier
statecraft.[836] It was to Walsingham that Gosson looked as a Scipio
and a Hercules in the dedication of his _Playes Confuted_ in 1583, but
Gosson was unlucky in his dedications, and in the following year
Walsingham was officially concerned in the formation of the company of
Queen's players. One would gladly know who was the 'notable wise
counseller' dead in 1591, who, according to Sir John Harington, stood up
for the play of _The Cards_, against those who thought that it was
'somewhat too plaine'. I should not be surprised if this were
Walsingham.[837] By virtue of their offices, the Lord Chamberlain and
Vice-Chamberlain, who were responsible for Court entertainments, were
almost bound to take the players' part. But there was a moment of
trepidation when Lord Cobham, who was known to be touched with
Puritanism, succeeded for a few months in 1596 the 'old lord', Henry
Lord Hunsdon, on whom the companies had learnt to rely. There is nothing
to show that Elizabeth, beyond holding out for her 'solace', took any
personal interest in the controversy. That very irritating document, the
_Acts of the Privy Council_, which is little more than a letter-book,
does not record whether she was present or not at the Council meetings
at which theatrical affairs were discussed. But it must be assumed that
the general attitude of the Council had her concurrence. Certainly she
had no Puritan tendencies, and on the rare occasions on which her
interference can be traced she was acting in the interests of one or
other favoured company.[838]
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 759: _Mediaeval Stage_, ii. 206.]
[Footnote 760: Horace, _De Arte Poetica_, 343:
Omne tulit punctum qui miscuit utile dulci,
lectorem delectando pariterque monendo.
Horace's treatise was first translated into English by Thomas Drant in
1567; cf. O. L. Jiriczek, _Der Elisabethanische Horaz_ (1911,
_Sh.-Jahrbuch_, xlvii. 42).]
[Footnote 761: Plutarch, _Quomodo adolescens poetas audire debet_, c.
xii.]
[Footnote 762: Donatus (ed. Wessner, i. 22), _Excerpta de Comoedia_; cf.
_Hamlet_, III. ii. 23, also Gosson's criticism of Lodge's scholarship on
this point in App. C, No. xxx.]
[Footnote 763: W. H. Woodward, _Studies in Education during the Age of
the Renaissance_, 218; C. H. Herford, _Studies in the Literary Relations
of England and Germany in the Sixteenth Century_, 101.]
[Footnote 764: _Mediaeval Stage_, ii. 216.]
[Footnote 765: Extract in App. C, No. v. Symmes, 31, cites Peter Martyr
Vermigli as representing the same point of view, but the passage on
plays in his _In librum Iudicum Commentarii_ (1563), c. 14, reproduced
in his _Loci Communes_ (1563), Classis ii, c. 12, is not very lucid.]
[Footnote 766: J. E. Gillet (_M. L. A._ xxxiv. 465), citing e.g. an
utterance of 1530, 'Et ego non illibenter viderem gesta Christi in
scholis puerorum ludis seu comoediis latine et germanice rite ac pure
compositis repraesentari propter rei memoriam et affectum iunioribus
augendum'.]
[Footnote 767: _Mediaeval Stage_, ii. 111.]
[Footnote 768: _Robert Laneham's Letter_ (ed. Furnivall), 27.]
[Footnote 769: _Mediaeval Stage_, ii. 224, 446.]
[Footnote 770: _Mediaeval Stage_, ii. 222. The passage quoted is from
the _Epistel Exhortatorye of an Inglyshe Christian_ (1544), written
under the pseudonym of Henry Stalbridge. Foxe, _Book of Martyrs_, vi.
57, says of Bishop Gardiner, 'He thwarteth and wrangleth much against
players, printers, preachers. And no marvel why: for he seeth these
three things to be set up of God, as a triple bulwark against the triple
crown of the Pope to bring him down; as, God be praised, they have done
meetly well already.']
[Footnote 771: Cf. ch. v.]
[Footnote 772: Strype, _Annals_, 1. ii. 436, 'Sithence the comynge and
reigne of our most soveraigne and dear lady quene Elizabeth, by the
onely preachers and scaffold players of this newe religion, all thinges
are turned up-side downe, and notwithstandinge the quenes majesties
proclamations most godly made to the contrarye, and her vertuous example
of lyvinge, sufficyent to move the hearts of all obedyent subjects to
the due service and honour of God.' If a proclamation as to plays is
meant, it must be the earlier one of 8 April 1559, as the speech was
probably delivered in the debate on the second reading of the Act of
Uniformity on 26 April. Strype, 1. i. 109, points out that it is
definitely assigned by _Cotton MS. Vesp._ D. 18, to Feckenham, and that
Burnet's ascription to Nicholas Heath, Archbishop of York, which has
been followed by Collier, i. 168, and others, rests on a mistaken note
by a later hand on a copy in a _C. C. C. C. Synodalia MS._]
[Footnote 773: _V. P._ vii. 65, 71, 80.]
[Footnote 774: _Sp. P._ i. 62 (29 April 1559), 'She was very emphatic in
saying that she wished to punish severely certain persons who had
represented some comedies in which your Majesty was taken off. I passed
it by, and said that these were matter of less importance than the
others, although both in jest and earnest more respect ought to be paid
to so great a prince as your Majesty, and I knew that a member of her
Council had given the arguments to construct these comedies, which is
true, for Cecil gave them, as indeed she partly admitted to me.']
[Footnote 775: _Sp. P._ i. 247. England and Protestantism got as good as
they gave. Bohun, 99, records how, about 1560-2, Sir Nicholas
Throgmorton was made the butt of French court jesters and comedians.
Mary of Scotland was hardly persuaded, in 1565, to punish some Catholics
who had made a play against the ministers, with a mock baptism of a cat
in it (Randolph to Cecil, in Wright, _Eliz._ i. 190).]
[Footnote 776: Cf. ch. v.]
[Footnote 777: Cf. ch. xxii.]
[Footnote 778: Calvin, _Opera_, xxi. 207 (_Annales Calviniani_), gives
prohibitions made under Farel's influence in 1537; for earlier records,
cf. E. Doumergue, _Jean Calvin_, iii. 579; H. D. Foster, _Geneva before
Calvin_ in _American Hist. Review_, viii. 231.]
[Footnote 779: A. L. Herminjard, _Correspondance des Réformateurs dans
les pays de langue française_, i. 195, 'Christianum alienum oportet a
bachanalibus quae gentium more celebrantur, et ab hypocrisi Iudaica in
ieiuniis et aliis quae non directore spiritu fiunt: ac cavere oportet a
simulachris quam maxime.' Possibly, however, 'simulachra' means 'images'
rather than 'disguisings'.]
[Footnote 780: Calvin, _Opera_, xᵃ. 5, 16.]
[Footnote 781: The proceedings against Mme Françoise Perrin for allowing
a dance in her house are described in A. Roget, _Hist. du Peuple de
Genève_, ii. 225. In 1550 the council resolved (Calvin, _Opera_, xxi.
460), 'Item des ordonnances des dances qu'elles ne soyent point
admoindries mais que l'on ne soufre pas cela. Surquoy est arreste que
soyent faictes cries a voix de trompe que nulz naye a danser ny chanter
chansons deshonnestes ny dancer en façon que soit: sur poienne de estre
mis troys iours en prison en pain et eaue et de soixante sols pour une
chescune foy la moytie applique a l'hospital et laultre moytie a la
court'. In 1557 (_Opera_, xxi. 662) persons were brought before the
consistory on an accusation of 'insolences faictes a un royaulme'. They
had a cake, and in one girl's slice 'y mirent ung grain de genievre et
pour ce lappellerent Royne et crierent a aulte voix la Royne boit'.]
[Footnote 782: Calvin, _Opera_, xxi. 379; cf. Roget, ii. 235.]
[Footnote 783: Calvin, _Opera_, xxi. 382; cf. Roget, ii. 238, 'Aulcungs
joueurs des antiques et puissance de Hercules ont prié que plaise a MM.
de les laisser jouer de bonne grâce la bataille des Mores et puissance
de Harodes et aultres antiques héros. Arresté pour obvier scandalle que
ne doibgent point jouer, mes que demain se doibgent retirer.' Cf. the
notices of the Hercules performances at Paris in 1572 and at Utrecht in
1586 (ch. xiii, s.v. Leicester's), and p. 152, n. 1, for an early
Italian parallel.]
[Footnote 784: Calvin, _Opera_, xxi. 381-4; cf. Roget, ii. 236;
Doumergue, iii. 579; W. Walker, _John Calvin_, 298.]
[Footnote 785: Calvin, _Ep._ 800 (_Opera_, xii. 347), '... Nihil hic
habemus novi, nisi quod secunda comedia iam cuditur. Cuius actionem
testati sumus nobis minime probari. Pugnare tamen ad extremum noluimus,
quia periculum erat ne elevaremus nostram autoritatem, si pertinaciter
repugnando tandem vinceremur. Video non posse negari omnia oblectamenta.
Itaque mihi satis est si hoc, quod non est adeo vitiosum, indulgeri sibi
intelligant, sed nobis invitis....' This was on 3 June. _Ep._ 807
(_Opera_, xii. 355), of 4 July, describes the dissensions amongst the
ministers, and adds, 'Auditis fratribus, respondi multas ob causas nobis
non videri expedire ut agerentur, et simul causas exposui; nos tamen
nolle contendere, si senatus contenderet ... nunc ludi aguntur'.]
[Footnote 786: Calvin, _Ep._ 802 (_Opera_, xii. 351) 'Farellus Calvino
... Isti qui tam delectantur ludis, utinam non serio dolore torqueantur.
Timendum est, ne qui alienis personis oblectantur quum propriam in
Christo debeant sustinere in omni genere officiorum, ne ferre cogantur
non personatos, qui fingunt nocere, sed qui nimis vere afflictent et
angant. Sed quis tandem perfectam ... habebit plebem? Utinam in malis
personati tandem essent, nec aliquid ipsi facerent, tantum aliorum
peccata repraesentarent ... omnes ea vitarent, in bonis veri essent
actores, imo factores.... 16 Iunii, 1546.']
[Footnote 787: Calvin, _Sermo_, cxxvi (_Opera_, xxviii. 18), 'Ainsi donc
ce n'est point sans cause que ceste loy a esté mise; et ceux qui
prennent plaisir à se desguiser, despittent Dieu: comme en ces masques,
et en ces momons, quand les femmes s'accoustrent en hommes, et les
hommes en femmes, ainsi qu'on en fait: et qu'adviendra-t-il? Encores
qu'il n'y eust point nulle mauvaise queue, la chose en soy est
desplaisante à Dieu: nous oyons ce qui en est ici prononcé: _Quiconques
le fait, est en abomination_.' Other sermons, e.g. _Sermo_ lvii, condemn
dances and _jeux_ generally, without any special stress on plays; cf. P.
Lobstein, _Die Ethik Calvins_, 113.]
[Footnote 788: Calvin, _Opera_, xxi. 385.]
[Footnote 789: Calvin, _Opera_, xxi. 406, 450, 684, 734; Roget, ii. 238,
243; iii. 139; vi. 192; Doumergue, iii. 579, sqq.]
[Footnote 790: _Discipline des Églises Réformées_, ch. xiv, art. 28
(_Bulletin de la Soc. de l'Hist, du Protestantisme_, xxxv. 211), 'Il ne
sera aussi permis aux fidèles d'assister aux comédies, tragédies,
farces, moralités et autres jeux, joués en public ou en particulier, vu
que de tout temps cela a été défendu entre chrétiens, comme apportant
corruption de bonnes mœurs, mais surtout quand l'Écriture sainte est
profanée; néanmoins, quand, dans un collège, il sera trouvé utile à la
jeunesse de représenter quelque histoire, on la pourra tolérer pourvu
qu'elle ne soit comprise en l'Écriture sainte, qui n'est pas donnée pour
être jouée, mais purement prêchée, et aussi que cela se fasse rarement
et par l'avis du Colloque qui en verra la composition.' The original
decree of the Synod of Poitiers in 1560, to which this was an addition,
only laid down that 'les momeries et batelleries ne seront point
souffertes, ni faire le Roi boit, ni le Mardi gras'.]
[Footnote 791: Cf. ch. xxiii, s.v. Calfhill, for Walter Haddon's
somewhat slighting reference to his _theatri celebritas_.]
[Footnote 792: _Parker Correspondence_ (Parker Soc.), 226.]
[Footnote 793: Strype, _Annals_ (1824), III. i. 496. Smith had said, 'Si
illud verum sit quod auditione accepi, istius modi certe ludos diris
devoveo et actores et spectatores'.]
[Footnote 794: I am not writing the history of the Oxford stage, but it
is pertinent to note that a statute of 1584, just as Case was writing,
had excluded common stage-plays from the University, both on grounds of
health and economy, and that 'the younger sort ... may not be
spectatours of so many lewde and evill sports as in them are practised'
(Boas, 225).]
[Footnote 795: Northbrooke, 103. Stubbes took the same line in the
_Preface_ to his first edition, but afterwards cancelled the passage.]
[Footnote 796: Cf. _Mediaeval Stage_, i. 18.]
[Footnote 797: Gosson, _P. C._ 195.]
[Footnote 798: Gosson, _P. C._ 169.]
[Footnote 799: Gosson, _P. C._ 197.]
[Footnote 800: Gosson, _P. C._ 188; Munday, 145.]
[Footnote 801: _A. Y. L._ III. iii. 17.]
[Footnote 802: Northbrooke, 92; Munday, 144; Stubbes, 140.]
[Footnote 803: Gosson, _S. A._ 35; _P. C._ 215; Munday, 139.]
[Footnote 804: Northbrooke, 92; Stockwood, 23; Munday, 128; Field,
_Epistle_.]
[Footnote 805: White, 46; Gosson, _P. C._ 215.]
[Footnote 806: Stubbes, 180, speaks of serious accidents at theatres due
to panic at an earthquake, which must be that of 6 April 1580; but the
account published at the time (cf. App. C, No. xxv) makes no reference
to theatres, although it does, oddly enough, record that the only deaths
were those of two children who were listening to a sermon in Christ
Church, Newgate.]
[Footnote 807: The fall of the Paris Garden bear-baiting house on 13
January 1583 led John Field, in his _A Godly Exhortation_ (1583) on that
event, which is closely related to the anti-stage literature, to
anticipate a similar fate for the theatres. The Puritans should have
taken to heart the wise comment of Sir Thomas More on a similar occasion
(cf. ch. xvi, s.v. Hope).]
[Footnote 808: Cf. ch. xxiii, s.v. Marlowe, _Dr. Faustus_.]
[Footnote 809: Cf. App. C, Nos. iv, ix, x, xiv, xix. Something might be
added from the prefaces of the Senecan translators (cf. ch. xxiii).]
[Footnote 810: Gosson, _P. C._ 201.]
[Footnote 811: Gosson, _P. C._ 203.]
[Footnote 812: Northbrooke, 92; Munday, 139; Stubbes, 143.]
[Footnote 813: Northbrooke, 92; cf. Stubbes, 144.]
[Footnote 814: Munday, 150.]
[Footnote 815: Gosson, _P. C._ 182; Munday, 147.]
[Footnote 816: Gosson, _S. A._ 37.]
[Footnote 817: Cf. ch. ix and App. C, No. xl.]
[Footnote 818: _B. Fair_, i. 2, 3, 6; iii. 2, 6; iv. 1, 6; v. 5; cf.
Jonson's _Epigr._ lxxv. _On Lippe the Teacher_. I suppose that the
treatise on the question of sex-apparel which Selden sent to Jonson in
1616 (App. C, No. lxii) was meant to furnish annotations for _B. Fair_.]
[Footnote 819: Heywood, 24.]
[Footnote 820: Heywood, 43, 61.]
[Footnote 821: Cf. App. J.]
[Footnote 822: Gosson, _P. C._ 211.]
[Footnote 823: Henslowe, i. 136, records a payment of 10_s._ by the
Admiral's in May 1601, 'to geatte the boye into the ospetalle which was
hurt at the Fortewne'. At St. James, Clerkenwell, was buried on 26 May
1613 (_Harl. Soc._ xvii. 123) 'John Brittine yᵗ was killed with a fall
in the Pley howse'. There was a shooting accident also in an Admiral's
play of 1587; cf. ch. xiii.]
[Footnote 824: Cf. ch. xviii.]
[Footnote 825: One of the charges brought against the Venetian
ambassador Foscarini on his return to Venice in 1616 was that he had
tried to seduce the penitent of an English religious attached to the
embassy, 'sometimes attending the public comedies and standing among the
people on the chance of seeing her' (_Venetian Papers_, xiv. 593). About
1594 a diamond stolen from the loot of a Spanish carrack was bought by
some goldsmiths from a mariner whom they met by chance 'at a play in the
theatre at Shoreditch', and who afterwards showed them the diamond in
Finsbury Fields (_Cecil Papers_, vii. 504).]
[Footnote 826: Cf. ch. xvi, s.v. Bull.]
[Footnote 827: In _Stukeley_, 610, the hero owes the bailiff of
Finsbury, 'for frays and bloodshed in the Theatre fields, five marks'.
The Middlesex justices had to deal with cases of stealing a purse at the
Curtain in 1600, of a 'notable outrage' at the Red Bull in 1610, of
abusing gentlemen at the Fortune in 1611, of stealing a purse at the Red
Bull in 1613, and of stabbing at the Fortune in 1613 (_Middlesex County
Records_, i. 205, 217, 259; ii. xlvii, 64, 71, 86, 88). On 7 July 1602
James wrote from Scotland to one James Hudson to intercede with the
Council for John Henslay or Henchelawe of Grimsby, who was assaulted by
Nicholas Blinstoun or Blunston at a play about the previous Whitsunday
(23 May), and slew him (_Scottish Papers_, ii. 815; _Hatfield MSS._ xii.
363). Dekker (ii. 326), in _Jests to Make you Merrie_ (1607), gives the
private playhouse as the habitat of the 'foist' or pickpocket, and says,
'The times when his skirmishes are hottest, or yᵉ time when they run
attilt, is ... a new play'. Again (iii. 158), in _The Belman of London_
(1608), he tells us that rogues haunt playhouses, and (iii. 212) in
_Lanthorne and Candlelight_ (1609), 'A foyst nor a nip shall not walke
into a fayre or a Play-house, but euerie cracke will cry looke to your
purses'.]
[Footnote 828: Divers persons were slain and others hurt and wounded in
an attempt to pull down the Cockpit in Drury Lane on Shrove Tuesday 1617
(_M. S. C._ i. 374); cf. Camden, _Annales_ (4 March 1617), 'Theatrum
ludionum nuper erectum in Drury-Lane a furente multitudine diruitur, et
apparatus dilaceratur'; John Taylor, _Jack a Lent_ (1620, ed. Hindley),
'Put play houses to the sack and bawdy houses to the spoil'; _The Owles
Almanack_ (1618), 9, 'Shroue-tuesday falls on that day, on which the
prentices plucked downe the cocke-pit, and on which they did alwayes vse
to rifle Madam _Leakes_ house, at the vpper end of _Shorditch_'. This
was not Puritanism, but a traditional Saturnalia of apprentices at
Shrovetide; cf. Earle, _Microcosmography_, char. 64 (A Player),
'Shrove-tuesday he feares as much as the bawdes'; Busino, _Anglopotrida_
(1618, _V. P._ xv. 246), describing the bands of prentices, 3,000 or
4,000 strong, who on Shrove Tuesday and 1 May do outrages in all
directions, especially the suburbs, where they destroy houses of
correction; E. Gayton, _Festivous Notes upon Don Quixote_ (1654), 271,
'I have known upon one of these festivals, but especially at
Shrove-tide, where the players have been appointed, notwithstanding
their bills to the contrary, to act what the major part of the company
had a mind to. Sometimes _Tamerlane_, sometimes _Jugurtha_, sometimes
_The Jew of Malta_, and sometimes parts of all these; and at last, none
of the three taking, they were forced to undress and put off their
tragick habits, and conclude the day with _The Merry Milkmaides_. And
unless this were done, and the popular humour satisfied (as sometimes it
so fortun'd that the players were refractory), the benches, the tiles,
the laths, the stones, oranges, apples, nuts, flew about most liberally;
and as there were mechanicks of all professions, who fell every one to
his trade, and dissolved a house in an instant, and made a ruin of a
stately fabric'.]
[Footnote 829: Most of these letters are printed in Wright, _Eliz._; a
few are still unprinted among the _Lansdowne_ and _Hatfield MSS._; cf.
App. D, Nos. xxxv, xxxvii, lxxiv.]
[Footnote 830: Gosson, _S. A._ 56; _P. C._ Epistle, 178.]
[Footnote 831: Munday, 128.]
[Footnote 832: Occasionally players were of use as spies. On 30 March
1603 four players gave information of an alleged proclamation of Lord
Beauchamp as king by Lord Southampton (_Hist. MSS._ xiii. 4. 126).]
[Footnote 833: Cf. App. D, Nos. xl, liii, lviii, lxxi, lxxiii, lxxv,
lxxxiv, lxxxv, ci, cxiv. The notion of the need of the public, as
distinct from that of the Queen, for dramatic recreation gradually makes
its appearance (cf. especially App. D, No. cii); but imperial Rome might
have taught its lesson of _panem et circenses_.]
[Footnote 834: Taylor, _Wit and Mirth_ (1629, Hazlitt, _Jest Books_,
iii. 62), burlesques the point of view in a story of the visit of the
Queen's ape to Looe in Cornwall. The showman approached the mayor, who
did visit and 'put off his hat and made a leg', and there was a
proclamation, 'These are to will and require you, and every of you, with
your wives and families, that upon the sight hereof, you make your
personall appearance before the Queenes Ape, for it is an Ape of ranke
and quality, who is to bee practised through her Majesties dominions,
that by his long experience amongst her loving subjects, hee may bee the
better enabled to doe her majesty service hereafter; and hereof faile
you not, as you will answer the contrary'.]
[Footnote 835: App. D, No. liv.]
[Footnote 836: Hawarde, 48, records that in a Star Chamber case of
cozening on 18 June 1596 'The Lord Treasurer would haue those yᵗ make
the playes to make a comedie hereof, & to acte it with these names'; cf.
p. 244. In _Hatfield MSS._ vii. 270 is a 'lewd saucy letter' of 25 June
1597 from Sir John Hollis to Burghley, who on the last Star Chamber day
had pronounced Hollis's great-grandfather 'an abominable usurer, a
merchant of broken paper, so hateful and contemptible a creature that
the players acted him before the King [Henry VII or VIII] with great
applause'. It is printed in H. Walpole, _Royal and Noble Authors_ (ed.
Park, ii. 283).]
[Footnote 837: App. C, No. xlv. Was this the Chapel _Game of the Cards_
on 26 Dec. 1582, or was it the play in which Tarlton (cf. ch. xv)
glanced at Raleigh as the knave commanding the queen?]
[Footnote 838: These interventions were the Admiral's men in 1600 and
for Oxford's and Worcester's men in 1602 (cf. App. D, Nos. cxvii,
cxxx).]
IX
THE STRUGGLE OF COURT AND CITY
[_Bibliographical Note._--Most of the material for the present
chapter is collected in Appendix D. An outline of the subject
was given in _Tudor Revels_ (1906), and it is well and fully
treated in V. C. Gildersleeve, _Government Regulation of the
Elizabethan Drama_ (1908). G. M. G., _The Stage Censor_ (1908),
and F. Fowell and F. Palmer, _Censorship in England_ (1913),
are perhaps more valuable on later periods. Vagabond life and
legislation may be studied in G. Nicholls, _History of the
English Poor Law_² (1898), C. J. Ribton-Turner, _History of
Vagrants and Vagrancy_ (1887), E. M. Leonard, _Early History of
English Poor Relief_ (1900), and F. Aydelotte, _Elizabethan
Rogues and Vagabonds_ (1913), and the working of local
government in C. A. Beard, _The Office of Justice of the Peace
in England_ (1904), and E. Trotter, _Seventeenth Century Life
in the Country Parish_ (1919).]
The foregoing chapter has endeavoured to define the practical and
spiritual forces which underlay the controversy between Puritanism and
the stage; it remains to study the working of the constitutional forms
through which, as a resultant of those forces, the 'quality' of the
player ultimately established itself as a recognized constituent of the
polity. And first, for the social status of the players. The wittier
Puritans were fond of twitting them, on the ground that, if all men had
their rights, they would count as no better than vagabonds. There is
little more than a verbal truth in the taunt. No doubt, in certain
circumstances, players, like minstrels before them, might fall within
the danger of a series of statutes which, in the course of formulating
the provisions of a nascent poor-law, attempted also to regulate the
wandering elements of society. It was part of the mediaeval conception
of things to assign to every individual a definite function in the
social organism and to expect from him the regular fulfilment of that
function. To such a theory the migratory beggar and the masterless man
were naturally repugnant. But it was primarily a shortage of labour
towards the end of the fourteenth century which brought about the first
serious endeavour to check vagabondage by legislation, and to compel the
able-bodied vagrant, through the machinery of local government, to
return to the village of his domicile and there take up again the
service which he had abandoned. This policy was continued and developed
by the Tudors. The principal act which was operative, when Elizabeth
came to the throne, had been passed under Henry VIII in 1531. It
provided that any able-bodied beggar or idle vagrant, having no land or
master, and using no lawful merchandise, craft, or mystery for his
living, should be brought before a justice of the peace, or in a
corporate town the mayor, who should see him whipped at the cart-tail,
and then, if a beggar, returned to his place of birth or residence,
there to work as a true man ought to do, or if an idle person but no
beggar, either put to labour or set in the stocks until he found surety
to go to service. This statute was replaced by one of greater severity
in 1547, under which vagabonds were to be branded and put to forced
labour as slaves. But it was revived in 1550 and kept in force by
frequent renewals, of which the last was under Elizabeth herself in
1563. In these Acts there is no mention by name either of players or of
minstrels.[839] It may, however, be assumed that the quality of a player
would no more be regarded than that of a tinker or a pedlar as a
merchandise, craft or mystery, and the fact that some of the early
companies were composed of men for whom playing had originally been
subsidiary to a regular craft would hardly serve them, after they had
obviously deserted that craft and were travelling abroad to make a
living by the arts of migratory entertainment.[840] Their actual
safeguard was quite a different one. By definition the vagabond was a
masterless man, and with the exception of a few bodies of town players,
who probably did not wander far from their settled habitations, the
Tudor companies were not masterless. They were all under the protection
of some nobleman or gentleman of position, as whose 'servants' they
passed, bearing with them, no doubt, at any rate after this was required
by a proclamation of 1554, a 'certificate' or letter of recommendation
as proof of identity.[841] No doubt the relation in the larger companies
of lord and servants was little more than a nominal one. The strict
regulations of Henry VII against retainers who were not household
servants had become relaxed with the disappearance of the conditions
which necessitated them.[842] The players would wear a livery or badge,
and would do some courtesy of attendance on festival occasions. The lord
might intervene to help them if they got into an undeserved difficulty,
and would see to it that they did not bring his name into bad repute.
There was no economic dependence; the players lived by their earnings,
not by wages. But they were not reckoned as masterless men.
A secure status, however, did not mean complete absence of control. The
players had no free hand to play just when and where and what they
liked. They were subject to certain conveniences as to times and seasons
and localities, to precautions against breaches of the peace and dangers
to public health and safety. Above all, in a time of political and
ecclesiastical ferment, the sentiments of their plays had to be such as
would stand the scrutiny of a government by no means tolerant of
criticism. On these matters it was not, except in so far as heresy was
constituted by Acts of Uniformity and the like, with statutes that they
had to deal, but with the administrative regulations of the local and
central executives. All over the country there were bodies charged with
a general responsibility for public order, public safety, and public
decency, as the Elizabethans conceived it. In the rural districts there
were the justices of the peace, with powers more considerable than
clearly defined; in the towns there were mayors and corporations, also
acting as justices, but armed with a further authority derived both from
custom and from charters, and with a very clear intention to use this
authority to the full in the government of their communities. The
regulation of amusements had always been regarded as falling within the
scope of municipal activity, and in the end it proved a fortunate thing
for the players, in London at any rate, that the central authority found
itself driven by the pressure of circumstances to take over a large
measure of the responsibility for stage control from the hands of the
corporations.
For it need hardly be said that in the Tudor scheme of things the power
of the local authorities was an immediate rather than an ultimate one.
Both the justices of the peace and, for all their charters, the
corporations had to reckon with a considerable and growing measure of
central control, resting upon the royal prerogative, and claiming not
merely to further define, but also in some respects to replace, dispense
with, or override legislative enactments. This development of regulation
from the centre is, of course, an established feature of
sixteenth-century history. It arose out of many convergent causes, the
strength of the monarchy in face of the great houses weakened by civil
contention, the personal qualities of the Tudor sovereigns, the urgent
need of fresh machinery to deal with problems created by ecclesiastical
changes, by the growth of the press, by the growth of the stage itself,
for which the legal and administrative traditions of the Middle Ages
provided no solution. And if it was largely unconstitutional and
destined ultimately to bring the prerogative to perdition, this did not
in the meantime affect the position of the actor, who would certainly be
fined and imprisoned if he did not obey, or to any great extent that of
the justices or corporations, who might prove recalcitrant or at least
argumentative, but in the long run found it profitable to obey also.
There were three main avenues through which the royal prerogative found
exercise. The first of these was the ancient procedure of Chancery. The
will of the sovereign might be expressed in a writ or mandate, directed
to the subject, and stamped for greater solemnity with the impression of
the Great Seal of England. Such a writ was generally used in granting
licences, in conferring offices, or in issuing commissions to execute
functions on behalf of the Crown. It took the form of letters patent, so
called because they were intended as open communications to all whom
they might concern. These were handed to the recipient after an
elaborate diplomatic process during which they passed successively under
the royal Sign Manual, the Signet, the Privy Seal, and the Great Seal
itself, while a copy was enrolled in the Court of Chancery, and thus
became matter of public record.[843] Secondly, there was the
proclamation. This was in theory the formal announcement either of an
executive act, or of the royal intention as to the enforcement or
interpretation of a statute. In practice it tended more and more, during
the Tudor period, itself to take the place of a statutory enactment.
Proclamations were made by direction of the sovereign in council, and
were enrolled, like the patents, in Chancery. Both proclamations and, at
a comparatively late stage, patents were made use of in the process of
regulating players. But they were largely supplemented by the third
method through which the royal prerogative expressed itself, namely that
day-by-day activity of the Privy Council in the general co-ordination
and supervision of affairs, which has already been described.[844] The
Council Register itself and the local archives, especially those of
London, are full of letters from head-quarters to justices and
corporations, directing them as to the allowance or inhibition of plays
in general, or calling for special action in cases in which a company of
players had provoked a breach of the peace or had brought themselves
under suspicion of heresy or sedition. No doubt the corporations, in
particular, would often have preferred to act upon their own discretion.
Sometimes they argued or protested or deferred compliance. But the
Council had the powers of the Star Chamber behind them; and if in the
end they resorted to more direct ways of control, this was probably
rather for the sake of avoiding administrative friction than because
they found any ultimate difficulty in imposing their will by means of
correspondence upon reluctant magistrates.
It was, of course, until plague and Puritanism became serious
preoccupations, with the subject-matter of plays, rather than the
details of times and places, that the central government mainly
concerned itself; and it was apparently the disturbed ecclesiastical
position of the later years of Henry VIII that directed attention to the
drama as a subject of state instead of merely local concern. I have
dealt elsewhere with the encouragement given to controversial interludes
by Cromwell and Cranmer, with the swing of the pendulum when the
controversialists began to apply themselves, not merely to points of
church government which Henry desired to alter, but with heresies which
he was not prepared to adopt, and with the proclamations and
counter-proclamations and the interventions by the Privy Council to
which the problem gave rise under Edward VI and Mary.[845] Some
additional material which has more recently been published throws light
upon the regulative functions of the City of London in particular during
1549 and 1550.[846] More than once the prevalence of 'lewd' and
'naughty' plays on this side or that led to the complete inhibition of
all performances for a season. There is also some trace of a system of
licences for particular companies. It is not clear why Lord Dorset
should have thought it necessary to obtain a special authorization from
the Council for his men to play in his presence only in 1551.[847] A
forged licence taken from some players and sent to Sir William Cecil in
1552 may perhaps have purported to have been nothing more than such a
certificate from a lord as was required by the proclamation of
1554.[848] Two general conclusions may be drawn from these early
records. One is that, although the local authorities were certainly
responsible for the regulation of plays as a matter of public order,
they were not always in a position to make their control effective
without an appeal to head-quarters. The performances were popular and
the players had inherited from the minstrels a prescriptive right to
municipal encouragement and reward, rather than interference. And if
they bore the badge of some great personage, himself perhaps a privy
councillor, one may be sure that Dogberry and Verges would think twice
before they ventured on a rebuff. Even in London the Lord Mayor had to
appeal to the Privy Council in 1543 to get certain joiners imprisoned
and reprimanded for playing on a Sunday.[849] And if this was so in
London, where the Lord Mayor had certainly a firm seat in his saddle, it
was naturally still more so in the county areas, whose looser methods of
government ultimately proved to have a very marked significance for the
history of the London theatres. The weak position of the Surrey
justices, for example, is illustrated by a letter from Stephen Gardiner,
Bishop of Winchester, to Sir William Paget, Secretary of State, written
on 5 February 1547, shortly after the death of Henry VIII. He asks that
Paget or the Protector will intervene to prevent Lord Oxford's men, who
have threatened 'to try who shall have most resort, they in game or I in
earnest', from giving a play in Southwark at the moment when he sings
his _Dirige_ for the dead king; and he reports that one Master Acton, a
justice of the peace, has attempted to stop the assembly, but the
players 'smally regard' him, and 'press him to a peremptory answer,
whether he dare lett them play or not; whereunto he answereth neither
yea nor nay as to the playing'.[850]
The second point is that, although the Privy Council might intervene to
help the magistrates, their own primary interest at this time was in the
exclusion of heresy and sedition from plays. This shows itself in two
ways. Individual plays are brought before the Council itself, and lead
to disciplinary measures. But there is also the germ of a censorship. At
first it is exercised through the local authorities. The London aldermen
in 1549 appoint two of the Corporation officers, known as the
Secondaries of the Compters, who are bound under recognizances to
'peruse' plays and report upon them to the Lord Mayor. But in the
following year the London players themselves are bound only to perform
plays licensed by the King himself or the Privy Council, and this too is
the basis of Edward's proclamation of 1551 and Mary's of 1553.[851] The
former requires a licence 'in writing vnder his maiesties signe, or
signed by vj of his highnes priuie counsail'; the latter 'her graces
speciall licence in writynge for the same'. By 1557, however, another
change has taken place, and the duty of licensing is apparently
delegated to the ecclesiastical authorities, that is to say the
Commissioners for Religion.[852] These licences are of course for
individual plays, and distinct from any general licences needed by a
company in order to enable it to play at all.