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 Book- 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT 
 
A Life of 
 
 William Shakespeare 
 
 By 
 
 William J. Rolfe, Litt. D. 
 
 Boston 
 
 Dana Estes & Company 
 Publishers 
 
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 LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
 
 Two Copies Received 
 
 MAY 28 1904 
 
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 CLASS^ IX- XXo. Na 
 
 COPY B 
 
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 Copyright, igoi 
 By Dana Estes & Company 
 
 Copy7'ight, igo4 
 By Dana Estes & Company 
 
 eColonial T^nzi 
 Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Slmonds & Co. 
 Boston, Mass., U. S. A. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 The manuscript of this Life was finished, except for 
 the Notes, in May, 1901, and from the beginning of June 
 to the middle of September was kept in a Safety Vault at 
 Cambridge. In October it mysteriously disappeared from 
 my library. Though I had little doubt by whom it was 
 taken, the evidence was purely circumstantial ; and for 
 that and other reasons it was impossible for me to make 
 any effoii; to regain possession of it. The person who 
 took it intended, after reading it, to return it without 
 betraying himself, but he was afterwards tempted to put 
 it into other hands with a false statement of its history, 
 possibly with a view to its being utilized, in part if not 
 as a whole, in print. This can hardly be done with 
 safety, but it has complicated the affair and interfered 
 with the return of the manuscript in time for it to go to 
 press as promised. 
 
 I have therefore been compelled to undertake the 
 depressing task of rewriting it, and the present volume 
 is the result. Whether it is better for being a twice-told 
 tale I cannot say, but I am inclined to think it is no 
 worse. My aim has been to give the main facts, tradi- 
 tions, and conjectures concerning Shakespeare's personal 
 and literary history, adding, so far as my limits allow, 
 the evidence for the facts and the reasons for accepting 
 
ii Preface 
 
 or rejecting the traditions and conjectures. Biographers 
 have never agreed, and probably never will agree, on 
 many of these doubtful or disputed matters. I have 
 endeavoured to be fair in stating theories and opinions 
 which I feel obliged to criticize, generally letting their 
 authors or advocates speak for themselves, and leaving 
 the reader to judge whether they are right or I am. 
 
 My indebtedness to Halliwell-Phillipps is acknowledged 
 on almost every page, and is even greater than is explic- 
 itly recognized. He sent me the successive editions of 
 his Outlines, and we discussed many points in them by 
 correspondence. In the prefaces to the latest editions he 
 mentions five persons by name to whom his " gratitude " 
 for '< substantial corrections " is " restricted," and of these 
 I happen to be the only one in this country. 
 
 To Mr. Sidney Lee's more recent Life of Shakespeare 
 I have also been indebted, though I have sometimes had 
 to disagree with him, particularly on the history and 
 interpretation of the Sonnets. 
 
 Shakespeare's Poems (aside from the Sonnets) have 
 received comparatively slight attention from his biog- 
 raphers and editors. In my edition of his works I 
 attempted to treat them as thoroughly as the plays, and 
 I have followed the same course here, quoting freely 
 from the few critics who, to my thinking, have done 
 justice to the real merit and interest of these early poet- 
 ical productions, which have been quite overshadowed by 
 the author's later and greater achievements in dramatic 
 art. 
 
 In the Bibliography, which is necessarily a brief selec- 
 tion from material that would fill a volume larger than 
 this, I have given a fuller account of the typographical 
 peculiarities of the first folio than I have seen elsewhere. 
 
Preface 
 
 111 
 
 It will suffice, I think, to prove beyond all question that 
 the folio could not have been edited by Bacon, as the 
 "cranks" — I cannot call them critics — who believe 
 him to be the author of the plays have assumed, making 
 it, indeed, the corner-stone of their crazy hypothesis. 
 
 W. J. R. 
 
 ■ Cambridge, April 23, 1902. 
 
This life was written as a supplement to the New 
 Century (subscription) PMition of " Shakespeare," and 
 for this reason has not been hitherto available as an 
 independent work. As neither time nor care was spared 
 on the preparation for its original appearance, no 
 addition or alteration has been deemed necessary or 
 advisable. 
 
 The portrait of Doctor Rolfe was prepared for the 
 book as first published, but he declined to permit its 
 insertion. It is with extreme reluctance that he yields 
 to the request of the publishers that it may appear in 
 the present edition. 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Shakespeare at the Age of Twelve . 
 Portrait of Dr. Rolfe 
 Room in Which Shakespeare Was Born 
 Shakespeare before Sir Thomas Lucy 
 Stratford from Memorial Chapel . 
 GowER Monument . ... 
 
 Shakespeare Memorial Building 
 Bust of Shakespeare, Trinity Church 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Frontispiece 
 
 . 16 
 
 . 39 
 
 . 94 
 
 . 150 
 
 . 224 ' 
 
 . 324 ' 
 
 . 475 
 
 / 
 
LIFE OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTKODUCTORT 
 
 More than one biographer of Shakespeare has 
 begun by quoting what George Steevens wrote 
 somewhat more than a hundred years ago: "All 
 that is known with any degree of certainty con- 
 cerning Shakespeare is, that he was born at Strat- 
 ford - on - Avon ; married and had children there; 
 went to London, where he commenced actor and 
 wrote poems and plays ; returned to Stratford, 
 made his will, died, and was buried." And Ten- 
 nyson is reputed to have said that "the world 
 should be thankful that there are but five facts 
 absolutely known to us about Shakespeare: the 
 date of his birth, April 23, 1564; his marriage at 
 nineteen to Anne Hathaway; his connection with 
 the Globe theatre and with Blackf riars ; his retire- 
 ment from theatrical life, with a competency, to 
 Stratford; and the date of his death, which took 
 place upon the anniversary of his birth, 1616." 
 
 1 
 
2 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 It should be understood, however, that there is 
 nothing exceptional in this, though certain folk who 
 deny that Shakespeare wrote Shakespeare have laid 
 much stress upon it. The biographies of the great 
 majority of literary men of that time, especially 
 the dramatists, are as meagre as Shakespeare's or 
 more so. In the latest sketch of- the lives of Beau- 
 mont and Fletcher (in the " Mermaid Series ") the 
 first sentence reads thus : " Beaumont and Eletcher, 
 though not of obscure origin, like the greater num- 
 ber of their fellow dramatists, yet afford no ex- 
 ception to the general rule in the obscurity that 
 surrounds their lives." Those who desire to see 
 " all the scraps of information that can be collected 
 concerning either poet" are referred to Mr. Dyce's 
 introduction to his edition of their works. The 
 volume of the same series devoted to Webster and 
 Tourneur says: "Nothing is known about the lives 
 of John Webster and Cyril Tourneur. We are 
 ignorant where they were born and when they 
 died," etc. The personal history of Marlowe, Mas- 
 singer, Middleton, and others is much the same. 
 
 As I have intimated, this is also true of other 
 great authors than dramatists. Professor Hales 
 begins the introduction to the "Globe" edition 
 of Spenser as follows: "The life of Spenser is 
 wrapt in a similar obscurity to that which hides 
 from us his great predecessor Chaucer, and his still 
 greater contemporary Shakespeare. As in the case 
 of Chaucer, our principal external authorities are 
 
Introductory 3 
 
 a few meagre entries in certain official docnments, 
 and such facts as may be gathered from his works. 
 The birth-year of each poet is determined by infer- 
 ence. The circumstances in which each died are a 
 matter of controversy. What sure information we 
 have of the intervening events of the life of each 
 one is scanty and interrupted ; " and so on. 
 
 We need not wonder, then, that Mr. Halliwell- 
 Phillipps, in the preface to his Outlines of the Life 
 of Shakespeare, compares "the fragments of the 
 personal history of the dramatist which have hith- 
 erto been discovered" to "the remains of New 
 Place" (the residence of Shakespeare in his later 
 years), which consist of a few stones and bricks of 
 the foundations, absolutely nothing being left of the 
 structure that rested upon them. He adds : " In 
 this respect the great dramatist participates in the 
 fate of most of his literary contemporaries, for if a 
 collection of the known facts relating to all of them 
 were tabularly arranged, it would be found that the 
 number of the ascertained particulars of his life 
 reached at least the average. At the present day, 
 with biography carried to a wasteful and ridiculous 
 excess, and Shakespeare the idol not merely of a 
 nation but of the educated world, it is difficult to 
 realize a period when no interest was taken in the 
 events of the lives of authors, and when the great 
 poet himself, notwithstanding the immense popular- 
 ity of some of his works, was held in no general 
 reverence. It must be borne in mind that actors 
 
4 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 then occupied an inferior position in society, and 
 that in many quarters even the vocation of a dra- 
 matic writer was considered scarcely respectable. 
 The intelligent appreciation of genius by individuals 
 was not sufficient to neutralize in these matters the 
 effect of public opinion and the animosity of the re- 
 ligious world; all circumstances thus uniting to 
 banish general interest in the history of persons 
 connected in any way with the stage. This bio- 
 graphical indifference continued for many years, 
 and long before the season arrived for a real curi- 
 osity to be taken in the subject, the records from 
 which alone a satisfactory memoir could have been 
 constructed had disappeared. At the time of Shake- 
 speare's decease, non-political correspondence was 
 rarely preserved, elaborate diaries were not the 
 fashion, and no one, excepting in semi-apocryphal 
 collections of jests, thought it worth while to record 
 many of the sayings and doings, or to delineate at 
 any length the characters, of actors and dramatists, 
 so that it is generally by the merest accident that 
 particulars of interest respecting them have been 
 recovered." 
 
 Still, as Karl Elze remarks, "we might have 
 possessed more biographical material relating, to 
 Shakespeare, were it not that political and other 
 events combined to destroy what existed. The 
 Civil Wars, Puritanism, and a strange succession 
 of conflagrations, are to blame for having destroyed 
 the few records of Shakespeare's life that had sur- 
 
Introductory 5 
 
 vived Ms day. Upon the accession of Charles I. 
 only a few years after Shakespeare's death, and but 
 two years after the publication of his works [in the 
 folio of 1623], the political affairs of the country 
 assumed so serious and threatening an aspect that 
 all other considerations were thrust into the back- 
 ground — more especially everything connected with 
 the drama, which, as is well known, was one of the 
 first things attacked by the fanaticism of the Puri- 
 tans. The appreciation of and interest in litera- 
 ture — especially in dramatic literature — which 
 had shortly before risen to an unparalleled height, 
 and which had affected all the different strata of 
 the nation, died out, or rather was stifled by main 
 force; and this change was accomplished with ex- 
 traordinary rapidity and with a force that hurled 
 down everything that came in its way. . . . The 
 neglect into which Shakespeare was allowed to fall 
 can be accounted for only by the fact that the 
 political revolution was also a complete upturning 
 of the whole social fabric, and of the moral, literary, 
 and Eesthetic ideas which affected the very character 
 of the nation." 
 
 Besides these political events, other causes, as 
 already stated, helped in the destruction.' Chief 
 among these was a series of fires, which, by a 
 strange coincidence, destroyed all the buildings 
 where any papers of Shakespeare's, or records of 
 his life, might have been obtained. In 1613, during 
 a performance of Henry VIIL, the Globe theatre 
 
6 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 was burned, and in all probability manuscripts of 
 the poet, or other written records relating to the 
 history and management of this theatre, were des- 
 troyed at that time. In the following year, a second 
 conflagration devastated a large portion of Strat- 
 ford, and although New Place was spared, it may 
 be assumed, as fifty-four houses fell victims to the 
 flames, that many records and important papers 
 referring to Shakespeare's family were then lost. 
 A few years later a fire broke out in Ben Jonson's 
 house, destroying more especially books and papers. 
 There can be no doubt that among his papers were 
 letters of Shakespeare, and editions of single works, 
 even though Ben Jonson does not mention this fact 
 in the poem ("An Execration upon Vulcan") in 
 which he recounts his losses. It is probable also 
 that the Great Fire of London, in 1666, still further 
 lessened the scanty memorials of Shakespeare's life 
 and work. 
 
 Moreover, he himself appears to have made no 
 effort to leave any record of his life to posterity. 
 He did not trouble himself about the printing or 
 the preservation of his works. It is true that they 
 were not written with a view to being printed, but 
 were doubtless sold outright to theatrical managers 
 for representation upon the stage ; but, though a 
 poet, he was eminently practical, knew how to make 
 and invest money and to take good care of his prop- 
 erty, and we may be sure that he preserved the 
 legal and other documents relating to these business 
 
Introductory 7 
 
 transactions. Doubtless he also had manuscripts of 
 some if not all of his works and copies of some 
 of the editions that had been published ; and these 
 may have had corrections and other memoranda 
 that would throw light upon their history and upon 
 many textual and other questions that perplex edi- 
 tors and critics. But his will makes no reference 
 to books, manuscripts, documents, letters, or other 
 written matter in which he was interested. These 
 may have been informally entrusted to his family, 
 but, if so, they do not appear to have taken care for 
 their preservation. We have no evidence that they 
 did anything to honour his memory except by the 
 erection of the monument in the Stratford church. 
 This apparent neglect, it has been suggested, may 
 be due not so much to any want of esteem or affec- 
 tion as to the fact that he left no male heir. 
 "After his death there was no one who could be 
 regarded as the representative of the family, and for 
 whom it would have been a matter both of pride 
 and of duty to cherish the memory of its founder." 
 His daughters had married, and had family cares 
 and interests of their own. Tradition says that 
 Lady Barnard (the only grandchild of the poet who 
 lived to be twenty years old), upon her second mar- 
 riage, took certain family documents with her to 
 her future home; but not even tradition pretends 
 to tell what became of them. It appears from the 
 records of litigation concerning her rights in Kew 
 Place, in which she was engaged after the death of 
 
8 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 her first husband, that she inherited the shrewd 
 business qualities of her grandfather. At that time 
 she states that she "hath in her hands or custodie 
 many deeds, evidences, writings, charters, escripts, 
 and muniments, which concern the lands and prem- 
 ises which the defendant claymeth as her inherit- 
 ance, and other the lands which are the defendant's 
 joynture, and are devised to her by the said Thomas 
 Nash." Besides the title deeds of New Place and 
 other documents relating to that estate, here referred 
 to, it is not unlikely that she had preserved other 
 papers and memorials connected with the history of 
 Shakespeare. She was only eight years old when 
 he died, but that he was very fond of her is proved 
 by his bequeathing to her nearly all his plate in 
 addition to a valuable contingent interest in his 
 estate. We can imagine that she had a childish 
 affection for him which developed and strengthened 
 in after years, and that she treasured many memen- 
 toes of him which, as she left no descendants, were 
 subsequently scattered and lost. 
 
 Unfortunately, the first biography of Shakespeare 
 worthy of the name was not written until 1709, or 
 nearly a century after his death, being prepared by 
 Nicholas Eowe as an introduction to his edition of 
 the poet's works. It was based mainly upon the 
 researches of Betterton the actor, who a few years 
 earlier (the precise date is uncertain) had visited . 
 Stratford for the express purpose of ascertaining 
 what could be learned there concerning the personal 
 
Introductory ^ 
 
 history of the dramatist. He comnmnicated the 
 results of his investigations to B,owe, who incor- 
 porated the better part of them in his biographical 
 sketch. Eowe says, in referring to Betterton, "I 
 must own a particular obligation to him for the 
 most considerable part of the passages relating to 
 his life which I have here transmitted to the pub- 
 lic, his veneration for the memory of Shakespeare 
 having engaged him to make a journey into War- 
 wickshire on purpose to gather up what remains he 
 could of a name for which he had so great a value." 
 We are indebted to Eowe for the rescue of these 
 and other fragments of information which otherwise 
 would have been lost, and there is no reason for 
 doubting his general accuracy. That he drew for 
 the most part from reliable sources is unquestion- 
 able. A few errors have been detected in the minor 
 details that he gives, but the more important par- 
 ticulars have been verified by later investigations. 
 He appears to have exercised great caution in deal- 
 ing with his materials, discriminating carefully 
 between what he regards as established fact and 
 as doubtful tradition. 
 
 With respect to the credibility of the traditional 
 matter, Halliwell-Phillipps remarks in the preface 
 to his Outlines : — 
 
 " There are many who question the value of the 
 stray morsels collected by Betterton and others in 
 the seventeenth century. The main external argu- 
 ment brought forward in support of their incredulity 
 
lo Life of Shakespeare 
 
 is the late period at which the traditions have been 
 recorded. Thus it is said, and witli truth, that 
 there is no intimation of the poet having followed 
 the trade of a butcher until nearly a century after- 
 wards, that the poaching exploit remained unnoticed 
 for a still longer time, and so on; these long terms 
 of silence being, it is considered, fatal to a depend- 
 ence upon such testimonies. But it appears to be 
 overlooked that the Stratford biographical notices, 
 unless we adopt the incredible theory that they 
 were altogether gratuitous and foolish inventions, 
 were in all probability mere repetitions of gossip 
 belonging to a much earlier period. This gossip, it 
 must be remembered, was of a character that was 
 seldom jotted down, and that still more rarely 
 found its way into print. Independently even of 
 these considerations, the above line of argument, 
 however plausible, will not bear the test of impar- 
 tial examination. It would apply very well to 
 the present age, when incessant locomotion and the 
 reign of newspapers have banished the old habit 
 of reliance upon hearsay for intelligence or for a 
 continuity in the recollection of minor events. The 
 case was very different indeed in the country towns 
 and villages of bygone days, when reading of any 
 kind was the luxury of the few, and intercommuni- 
 cation exceedingly restricted. It may be confidently 
 asserted that, previously to the time of Rowe, books 
 or journals were very rarely to be met with at 
 Stratford-on-Avon, while the large majority of the 
 
Introductory ii 
 
 inhabitants had never in their lives travelled beyond 
 twenty or thirty miles from their homes. There 
 was in fact a conversational and stagnant, not a 
 reading or a travelling, population ; and this state 
 of things continued, with gradual but almost imper- 
 ceptible advances in the latter directions, until the 
 development of the railway system. The oral his- 
 tory of local affairs thus became in former days 
 imprisoned, as it were, in the districts of their 
 occurrence; and it is accordingly found that, in 
 some cases, provincial incidents have been handed 
 down through successive generations with an accu- 
 racy that is truly marvellous. There has been, for 
 example, a tradition current at Worcester from time 
 immemorial that a robber of the sanctus-bell was 
 flayed, and his skin nailed to one of the doors of 
 the cathedral. This is a species of barbarity that 
 must be assigned to a very remote period, and yet 
 the fact of its perpetration has been established in 
 recent years by a scientific analysis of fragments 
 hanging to an ancient door which is still preserved 
 in the crypt. Other instances nearly as curious 
 might be adduced, including the verification of one 
 of Eowe's statements that was first given by him 
 from an oral source a hundred and thirty years 
 after the period to which it refers." 
 
 A few of these traditions had been noted in 
 manuscript or in print, as well as some slight 
 mention of facts in Shakespeare's life, before the 
 .appearance of Kowe's brief biography. 
 
12 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 We might have expected that Sir William Dug- 
 dale, who was born in 1605, eleven years before the 
 death of Shakespeare, and whose Antiquities of 
 Warwickshire was published in 1656, would have 
 given us some valuable information concerning the 
 personal history of the poet, but he barely mentions 
 him in describing the church and tombs at Stratford. 
 
 Fuller, in his Worthies (1662), has a very brief 
 account of Shakespeare, which contains no informa- 
 tion of value or interest. In the same year (1662) 
 the E.ev. John Ward, vicar of Stratford, recorded 
 in his memorandum-book certain traditions about 
 the dramatist. Although he had settled in the 
 town only in that year, there can be no doubt 
 that he reports accurately the local gossip of the 
 time. Many people were then living who must have 
 known Shakespeare personally; and his daughter 
 survived until 1662. It is to be regretted that the 
 vicar did not collect more information from these 
 and other available sources than he has preserved 
 for us. 
 
 In 1675 Edward Phillips, the nephew of Milton, 
 in his Theatrum Poeticum, writes thus: "William 
 Shakespeare, the glory of the English stage, whose 
 nativity at Stratford-on-Avon is the highest honour 
 that town can boast of, from an actor of tragedies 
 and comedies, he became a maker; and such a maker 
 that, though some others may pretend to a more 
 exact decorum and economy, especially in tragedy, 
 never any expressed a more lofty and tragick height ; 
 
Introductory 13 
 
 never any represented nature more purely to the 
 life J and where the polishments of art are most 
 wanting, as probably his learning was not extraor- 
 dinary, he phraseth with a certain wild and native 
 elegance ; and in all his writings hath an unvulgar 
 style, as well in his Venus and Adonis, his Bape 
 of Lucrece, and other various poems, as in his dra- 
 matioks." 
 
 Malone, after quoting this, remarks : " I had long 
 since observed, in the margin of my copy of this 
 book, that the hand of Milton, who was the author's 
 uncle, might be traced in the preface, and in the 
 passage above quoted. The book was licensed for 
 publication two months before the death of that 
 poet. My late friend, Mr. Warton, has made the 
 same observation." 
 
 About 1680, John Aubrey, the antiquary, in his 
 Minutes of Lives, the manuscript of which he sent 
 to Anthony Wood for use in his Athence Oxonienses, 
 recorded certain traditions concerning Shakespeare 
 that he had gathered in a visit to Stratford. Halli- 
 well-Phillipps doubts whether Aubrey is as trust- 
 worthy as Ward. He says of him : — 
 
 "This industrious antiquary was the author of 
 numerous little biographies, which are here and 
 there disfigured by such palpable or ascertained 
 blunders, that it would appear that he must have 
 been in the habit of compiling from imperfect notes 
 of conversations, or, no doubt in many instances, 
 from his own recollections of them. He was unfor- 
 
14 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 tunately also one of those foolish and detestable 
 gossips who record everything that they hear or 
 misinterpret, and this without so much as giving 
 a thought to the damage that they may inflict upon 
 the reputation of their victims. It would, there- 
 fore, be hazardous as a rule to depend upon his 
 statements in the absence of corroborative evidence, 
 but we may at the same time in a great measure 
 rely upon the accuracy of main facts in those cases 
 in which there is too much elaboration for his mem- 
 ory to have been entirely at fault. We need not, 
 for instance, give credence to his assertion that 
 Shakespeare's father was a butcher, in the literal 
 sense of that term, but it is scarcely possible that 
 he would have given the story about the calf if he 
 had not been told that the poet himself had fol- 
 lowed the occupation. In the same way, although 
 it is obvious that the anecdote respecting the con- 
 stable 1 is incorrectly narrated, no one should hesitate 
 
 iThe "calf" story is told by Aubrey thus : "His father 
 was a butcher ; and I have been told heretofore by some of 
 the neighbours, that when he was a boy he exercised his 
 father's trade ; but when he kill'd a calfe, he would doe it in 
 a high style, and make a speech." As to the "constable," 
 Aubrey, after remarking that Shakespeare " drew his charac- 
 ters from the different persons that he met," adds that "the 
 constable in the Midsummer-NighV s Dream'''' (he probably 
 meant Dogberry in Much Ado About Nothing) was drawn 
 from a certain constable at Grendon, Buckinghamshire, 
 where Shakespeare staid one Midsummer night on his way 
 from London to Stratford. 
 
Introductory 15 
 
 at accepting for truth the circumstance that Shake- 
 speare occasionally rested at Grendon Underwood 
 in taking the Aylesbury route in his journeys be- 
 tween his native town and the metropolis. Very 
 meagre indeed are the fragments of information to 
 be safely collected from Aubrey." 
 
 In 1693, a traveller named Dowdall, who visited 
 and described Stratford and several other towns 
 in Warwickshire, gives the inscriptions on Shake- 
 speare's monument, and adds a few traditions which 
 he got from William Castle, who was then the par- 
 ish clerk and sexton. He told Dowdall that Shake- 
 speare's father was a butcher (and Aubrey also cites 
 him as authority for the statement), but does not 
 add the " calf " story. Halliwell-Phillipps believes 
 that Castle was " a person who could have had no 
 motive for deception in such matters ; and the main 
 facts of the poet's Stratford life would, moreover, 
 have been clearly known in that town all through 
 the seventeenth century," 
 
 About the same time the Rev. Eichard Davies, 
 rector of Sapperton in Gloucestershire, added a few 
 notes on the life of the dramatist to a manuscript 
 biographical dictionary; and these were evidently 
 drawn from oral sources not unworthy of credence. 
 
 For almost a century after the appearance of 
 Eowe's Life of Shahespeare no serious attempt was 
 made to improve upon it. Pope, Johnson, and 
 Steevens in the biographical sketches prefixed to 
 their editions substantially repeated Eowe's matter. 
 
1 6 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Malone was the first to attempt a biography on a 
 more extended scale. In the introductions to the 
 Variorum editions of 1803, 1813, and 1821 he pre- 
 sented a large amount of new information, based on 
 his researches in the Stratford records, the manu- 
 scripts collected by the actor and manager, Edward 
 Alleyn, at Dulwich, and official records and docu- 
 ments in London. His Life of Shakespeare, as 
 completed and published in the Variorum of 1821, 
 fills 287 octavo pages ; and to this the discussion of 
 the chronological order of the plays adds 180 pages 
 more. 
 
 Of the many contributions to Shakespearian biog- 
 raphy since the time of Malone it is not my purpose 
 to attempt any detailed account here. The most 
 important of these have been made by Halliwell- 
 Phillipps, who, between 1850 and his death in 1889, 
 made elaborate investigations in the Stratford ar- 
 chives and other ancient records and documents 
 likely to throw light on the history of Shake- 
 speare and his works, and printed the results of 
 his researches in successive publications and finally 
 in the monumental work in two royal octavo vol- 
 umes which he modestly entitled Outlines of the 
 Life of Shakespeare, the ninth edition of which was 
 issued in 1890. 
 
 Mr. Sidney Lee's Life of Shakespeare (1898) is 
 the most noteworthy of the other biographies of the 
 dramatist published in the last half-century. 
 
CHAPTEE 11. 
 
 THE NAME OF SHAKESPEARE 
 
 The name Shakespeare occurs in widely separated 
 parts of England from the thirteenth century. A 
 Simon Shakespeye (probably Shakespere) is men- 
 tioned as living in Gloucestershire in 1260; and 
 a Geoffrey Shakespeare in Surrey in 1268. Simon 
 Sakesper was in the service of the Crown in 1278 
 as " herderer of the Forest of Essex ; " and a John 
 Shakespeare appears in a judicial case in 1278-79 
 at Freyndon in Kent. A Henry Shakespere was a 
 resident of Kirkland, near Penrith, as early as 1349, 
 and "the land of Allan Shakespeare" occurs in 
 connection with a conveyance of landed property 
 in Penrith in 1398, when a William Shakespeare 
 was one of the witnesses. There were also Shake- 
 speares in Nottingham between 1357 and 1360. 
 
 The earliest appearance of the name that has 
 been discovered in Warwickshire is in 1359, when 
 two bailiffs of Coventry " account for the property 
 of Thomas Shakespere, felon, who had left his goods 
 and fled." 
 
 Other Shakespeares, at about the same time, 
 appear to have been no less disreputable. In cer- 
 
 17 
 
1 8 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 tain records of the reign of Eichard II. (from June, 
 1377, to June, 1379) there is an entry of " Walter 
 Shakespere, formerly in gaol in Colchester Castle; " 
 and a John Shakespeare was "imprisoned in Col- 
 chester gaol as a perturbator of the King's peace," 
 March 3rd, 1381. A few other notices of Shake- 
 speares in the fourteenth century have been col- 
 lected by Mrs. Stopes {Shakespeare^ s Family, 1901) 
 and others. In the fifteenth century the name is 
 often found in parish and other records, particularly 
 in Warwickshire, — in the town of Warwick, in 
 Stratford, Snitterfield, Wraxhall, Temple Balsall, 
 Eowington, Pachwood, Little Packington, Kenil- 
 worth, Charlecote, Coventry, Hampton, Lap worth, 
 Nuneaton, Kington, and many other places. At 
 Eowington, twelve miles from Stratford, "one of 
 the most prolific Shakespeare families resided, and 
 no less than three Eichard Shakespeares of Eowing- 
 ton, whose extant wills were proved respectively in 
 1560, 1591, and 1614, were fathers of sons called 
 William" (Lee). 
 
 The origin of the name has been the subject of 
 controversy, but it is generally agreed that it is 
 compounded of shake and spear, and was suggested 
 by the bearing of arms or feats of arms. Verstegan 
 (Restitution of Decayed Intelligence, 1605) says : 
 "Breakspear, Shakespeare, and the lyke, have bin 
 surnames imposed upon the first bearers of them 
 for valour and feates of armes ; " and Camden {Re- 
 mains, 1605) remarks: "Some are named from that 
 
The Name of Shakespeare 19 
 
 which they commonly carried, — as Palmer, that is, 
 Pilgrime, for that they carried palme when they 
 returned from Hierusalem; Long-sword, Broad- 
 speare, Fortescu, that is Strong-shield, and in some 
 respect Break-speare, Shake-speare, Shot-bolt, Wag- 
 staffe." In The Pohjdoron (a work of the same 
 period, though without date) it is stated that names 
 " were first questionlesse given for distinction, f acul- 
 tie, consanguinity, desert, quality, ... as Arme- 
 strong, Shakespeare, of high quality." 
 
 Mr. Charles W. Bardsley {English Surnames, 
 2d ed. 1875) thinks that Shakespeare belongs to a 
 class of nicknames that became hereditary. He 
 adds : " The nicknames given to lower-class officials 
 some centuries ago were invariably hits at the offi- 
 cious and meddlesome character of their duties." 
 Such names generally referred to the implement 
 or badge of office, with the additional wag or shake. 
 Thus we find shake-buckler (in Halliwell), shake- 
 lock (as the designation of a turnkey), Waggestaff 
 (in the Hundred Eolls), Wag-tail, Wagspere ; and 
 the still existing Waghorn, Simon Shake-lok, Hennj 
 Shake-launce, and Hugh Shakeshaft occur in ancient 
 records. In the year 1487 a student at Oxford of 
 the name of Shakespeare changed it into Sawndare 
 (Saunders) because he considered his name too 
 common (Hugh Sawndare, alias dictus Shakspere, 
 sed mutatum est istud nomen ejus, quod vile repu- 
 tatum). Bardsley therefore comes to the conclusion 
 that William Shakespeare was undoubtedly the de- 
 
20 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 scendant of some "officer of the law, or one who 
 held service under some feudal lord ; " and Karl 
 Elze {Life of Shakespeare, English ed. 1888) is 
 inclined to agree with him, because " we know from 
 documentary evidence that all the families of the 
 name of Shakespeare belonged to the lower strata 
 of the nation, to the yeomanry or agricultural class ; 
 only two instances have been pointed out where the 
 families belonged to the upper ranks." 
 
 Mr. Charles Mackay {Athenoeum, 1875, ii. 437) 
 maintains that the name is of Celtic origin, " com- 
 posed of shac or seac == dry, and spier = shanks, and 
 ought properly to be written Sohacspeir or Chaksper, 
 as, in fact, the poet's father spelt his name." He 
 compares Sheepshank and Cruikshank. 
 
 Among other fanciful etymologies "Jacques 
 Pierre" may be mentioned as perhaps the most 
 absurd. 
 
 The orthography of the name has also been the 
 subject of much controversy. In the only five sig- 
 natures of the dramatist the authenticity of which 
 is undisputed, the spelling appears to be Shakspere, 
 though in two of them the second syllable is not 
 easily deciphered, and some experts in paleography 
 read them as Shakspeare. But at that time men 
 often wrote their names in more than one way. 
 Dr. John Hall, Shakespeare's son-in-law, signed 
 himself Hawle as well as Hall. Thomas Quiney's 
 name in the fac-similes of his signature given by 
 Halliwell-Phillipps in his Outlines (i. 256), appears 
 
The Name of Shakespeare 21 
 
 as Quyney, Quyneije, and Conoy, and elsewhere we 
 find other variations. Edward AUeyn used the 
 forms AUeyn, Aleyn, Alien, and Allin. Many other 
 instances of the kind might be cited from contempo- 
 raneous records and documents. " The name Mar- 
 lowe is met with in ten different forms, Gascoigne 
 in nineteen, Percy in twenty-three, Cholmondeley 
 in twenty-five, Percival in twenty-nine, and Bruce 
 in thirty-three different forms" (French). In the 
 Stratford records the name of John Shakespeare, 
 the poet's father, occurs in fourteen variations. Of 
 these the most common are Shaxpeare (69 times), 
 Shaxpere (18 times), Shakspeyr (17 times), and 
 Shahespere (13 times). 
 
 In the local pronunciation the first syllable was 
 unquestionably short, as the majority of the spell- 
 ings indicate ; but Shakespeare's friends in London 
 appear to have assumed that the name was made up 
 of shake and spear, and pronounced it accordingly. 
 The poet himself adopted the form Shakespeare in 
 the dedication of Venus and Adonis and Lucrece, the 
 only editions of any of his works which it is certain 
 that he personally saw through the press. In all 
 the quartos with the exception of those of King 
 Lear (where it is Shakspeare) it is spelt Shake- 
 speare, sometimes with the hyphen between the 
 syllables. This is also the form in the Sonnets 
 (1609) and in all four folio editions, as well as in 
 the "Commendatory Verses" prefixed to the folios 
 and in all other cases, so far as I am aware, where the 
 
22 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 poet is mentioned by contemporary writers. Karl 
 Elze, in his discussion of the subject, remarks : — 
 " Halliwell[-Phillipps] refers his readers to Mil- 
 ton's Epitaph : — 
 
 ' What need my Shakespeare, for his honour'd bones,' etc., 
 
 and is shocked at the mere thought that the name 
 there could be read with a short first syllable. In 
 like manner, all the witticisms to which the name 
 gave rise presuppose the emphasis on the first syl- 
 lable. Greene's jest, that Shakespeare considered 
 himself ' the onlie Shake-scene in a country ; ' 
 Thomas Bancroft's epigram : — 
 
 ' Thou hast so used thy pen, or shook thy speare, 
 That poets startle ; ' 
 
 Ben Jonson's famous line : — 
 
 ' In each of which he seems to shake a lance ; ' 
 
 the passage in Histrio-Mastix, act ii., where Troilus 
 says to Cressida : — 
 
 ' Thy knight his valiant elbow wears, 
 That when he shakes his furious speare 
 The foe in shivering fearful sort 
 May lay him down in death to snort ; ' 
 
 and Spenser's allusion to Shakespeare : — 
 
 ' Whose muse full of high thought's invention 
 Doth, like himself, heroically sound,' 
 
The Name of Shakespeare 23 
 
 would otherwise completely lose their point. Still, 
 it is not only the early editions of his works that 
 give the form Shakespeare, it is also met with in the 
 London records. In the document relating to the 
 grant of the coat-armour in 1596, the name is inva- 
 riably spelt Shakespeare ; in that of 1599 it is spelt 
 Shakespere ; in the license granted by King James, 
 dated May 17-19, 1603, the name is again Shake- 
 speare ; and in the indenture dated the 11th March, 
 1612-13, the name is likewise spelt Shakespeare. 
 These facts prove with tolerable certainty that in 
 London, and especially in literary and well'-educated 
 circles, the name was spelt and pronounced with 
 the first syllable long, and that to shorten it was 
 a provincialism — Boaden calls it 'a Stratford bar- 
 barism ' — an opinion which, among others, is shared 
 by Disraeli in his Curiosities of Literature and by 
 Halliwell, both of whom have discussed the subject. 
 The Stratfordians themselves were not altogether 
 unacquainted with the more refined pronunciation 
 of the name, particularly in cases where a more 
 careful language was required. In one of the most 
 carefully-written Stratford documents — ' a fine 
 levied on the purchase of New Place by Shake- 
 speare in 1597 ' — the name occurs five times, and 
 on every occasion is with great distinctness spelt 
 Shakespeare. The same spelling is met with in the 
 other documents relating to the purchase of New 
 Place. On the family tombstones in the Stratford 
 church the name is also Shakespeare; only in the 
 
2,4 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 inscription below the bust of the poet have we 
 the form Shakspeare, and on Susanna's tombstone 
 we have Shakespere, the first syllable long, but no 
 a in the second. In like manner the poet's brother 
 Gilbert signed himself Shakespere." 
 
 Mrs. Stopes (^Shakespeare's Family) notes, in 
 proof that Shakespeare was "the Court spelling 
 of the period," the fact that this form is found in 
 "the first ofiicial record of the name." When 
 Mary, Countess of Northampton, made out the 
 accounts of her second husband, Sir Thomas 
 Heneage, in 1594, she wrote: "To William 
 Kempe, William Shakespeare, and Richard Bur- 
 bage," etc. She was the mother of Shakespeare's 
 patron, the Earl of Southampton. In 1594 she 
 married Sir Thomas Heneage, the Vice-Chamber- 
 lain of the Household, and that same year Shake- 
 speare was invited to act at Court. Sir Thomas 
 died shortly after, and his widow had to superin- 
 tend the making up of his official books and check 
 the bills. 
 
 It may be added that the great majority of the 
 editors, commentators, and critics of the nineteenth 
 century have adopted the spelling Shakespeare. 
 Knight, Furnivall, and Dowden are among the 
 few who prefer Shakspere. Schmidt in his Lexi- 
 con, Abbott in his Shakespearian Grammar, Bartlett 
 and Mrs. Furness in their Concordances, and Sid- 
 ney Lee in his Life of Shakespeare are among those 
 on the other side. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 Shakespeare's ancestry and birth 
 
 Of the ancestry of William Shakespeare we have 
 little knowledge. His father, John Shakespeare, 
 must have come to Stratford before 1552, in which 
 year he was a resident in Henley Street and one 
 of three persons who were fined twelvepence each 
 for a violation of the sanitary regulations of the 
 town. The relatively large sum indicates that he 
 must have been then a substantial householder. 
 
 There is little doubt that he came to Stratford 
 from Snitterfield, a village about three miles dis- 
 tant, and that he was a son of Eichard Shake- 
 speare, the tenant of a farm owned by Robert 
 Arden, whose daughter Mary afterwards became 
 John's wife. Richard is mentioned in legal docu- 
 ments dated 1535, 1550, and 1560, and in a will 
 made in 1543. He had another son named Henry, 
 and Thomas Shakespeare living in Snitterfield at 
 that time may have been a third son. Richard 
 died in the latter part of 1560, and letters of ad- 
 ministration on his property were issued to his son 
 John in the following February, 
 
l6 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 In a law suit of 1556 John Shakespeare was 
 styled a " glover ; " and in the same year he bought 
 a house in Greenhill Street and another in Henley 
 Street, which was the eastern half of the building 
 now known as the Birthplace. Whether he had 
 previously lived as a tenant in this tenement or 
 in the western half has not been satisfactorily 
 determined. 
 
 In 1557 — the exact date is not known — he 
 married Mary Arden, the youngest daughter of 
 Eobert Arden, a well-to-do farmer of Wilmecote, 
 near Stratford, who had died a few months be- 
 fore. He owned two farmhouses and a hundred 
 acres of land at Snitterfield, which were rented 
 to tenants, and a house, with about fifty acres of 
 land, at Wilmecote, occupied by himself. This 
 latter estate was known as Asbies or Ashbies. 
 
 The Ardens were an old and respected family in 
 Warwickshire, but the precise relationship of Rob- 
 ert Arden to them is uncertain. His father was a 
 Thomas Arden, whom Mrs. Stopes believes to have 
 been the second son of " Walter Arden of Park 
 Hall, sixteenth in descent from the Saxon sheriff 
 Ailwin." Later, as we shall see, John Shakespeare 
 made application for the impalement of the Arden 
 arms with his own, and the Heralds at first tricked 
 the arms of the Ardens of Park Hall, but after- 
 wards substituted those of the Ardens of Alvanley 
 in Cheshire. But, according to Mrs. Stopes, the 
 reason for this "lay in no breach of connection, but 
 
Shakespeare's Ancestry and Birth 27 
 
 in the fact that Mary Arden was an heiress, not in 
 the eldest line, but through a second son^^ and the 
 possible arms for a younger son were those borne 
 as such by the Ardens of Alvanley. However that 
 may be, and whether Mary Arden was "of gentle 
 birth" or not, the honour of being the mother of 
 Shakespeare was far higher than any connection 
 with the Ardens of Park Hall could have given 
 her. 
 
 Robert Arden was twice married and had seven 
 daughters. The name of his first wife is not 
 known; the second was widow of a substantial 
 farmer named Hill, her maiden name being Agnes 
 Webbe. 
 
 Mary was evidently her father's favourite child. 
 In his will (made November 23, 1556) he mentions 
 her first and gives her the largest share of his prop- 
 erty : " I bequeathe to my youngest daughter Marye 
 all my land at Willincote caulide Asbyes, and the 
 crop upon the grounde sown and tythde as hitt is 
 . . . and vi'' xiii^ iiii^ of money to be paid her or 
 ere my goodes be devided." 
 
 Eobert Arden' s movable goods were valued at 
 £77, lis. 10c?. Among the articles mentioned are a 
 feather bed with two mattresses, a coverlet, three 
 bolsters, one pillow, five board-cloths, three towels 
 (among these a coloured one), 6s. Sc?. in cash, etc. 
 In the kitchen were four pans, four pots, three can- 
 dlesticks, a chafing-dish, a frying-pan, a gridiron; 
 further, an axe, two hatchets, four casks, four pails, 
 
2,8 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 a baking-trough, a hand-saw, etc. The inventory of 
 lire stock consisted of eight oxen, two bulls, seven 
 cows and four calves, amounting to £24 in value 
 altogether ; of four horses and three foals, estimated 
 at £8 ; of some fifty-two sheep, valued at £7 ; nine 
 pigs valued at 26s. Sd. ; of bees and fowls, valued 
 at 5s., etc. 
 
 After quoting these items from the inventory 
 Karl Elze remarks: "How simple, nay, how 
 meagre were the possessions of the household ! 
 With the exception of the marriage-bed no others 
 are mentioned, so that the daughters probably slept 
 on sacks of straw or coarse mats. And how few 
 the articles of household furniture! The only 
 things beyond the absolute necessaries of life are 
 two painted cloths in the hall, five similar ones in 
 the chamber, and four others of the same sort men- 
 tioned without its being specified where they were 
 used. There is not a word about vessels for eating 
 and drinking, nor any mention of articles of silver or 
 even tin. The family probably used wooden spoons 
 and bowls — forks were not then used in England. 
 Nevertheless, this family, although by no means 
 rich, occupied a position higher both as regards 
 rank and wealth than did the Shakespeares, and 
 Mary Arden was decidedly what is called a good 
 match for John Shakespeare." 
 
 Halliwell-Phillipps also says : " The appointments 
 of the dwelling were probably superior on the whole 
 to those which were to be found in other residences 
 
Shakespeare's Ancestry and Birth 29 
 
 of the same class, including no fewer than eleven 
 painted-cloths, a species of artistic decoration that 
 was in those days a favourite substitute for the 
 more expensive tapestry. Pictures of the kind that 
 are now familiar to us were then very rarely indeed 
 to be seen, excepting in palaces or in the larger 
 mansions of the nobility. These painted-cloths 
 were generally formed of canvas upon which were 
 depicted the Seven Ages of Man, the Story of the 
 Prodigal, and such like ; grotesque accompaniments, 
 in one or more of the rooms, to the ' bacon in the 
 roof.' 
 
 "The inventory of Eobert Arden's goods enables 
 us to realize the kind of life that was followed by 
 the poet's mother during her girlhood. In the total 
 absence of books or means of intellectual education, 
 her acquirements must have been restricted to an 
 experimental knowledge of matters [connected with 
 the farm and its house. There can be no doubt 
 that the maiden with the pretty name, she who has 
 been so often represented as a nymph of the forest, 
 communing with nothing less aesthetic than a night- 
 ingale or a waterfall, spent most of her time in the 
 homeliest of rustic employments ; and it is not at 
 all improbable that, in common with many other 
 farmers' daughters of the period, she occasionally 
 assisted in the more robust occupations of the field. 
 It is at all events not very likely that a woman, un- 
 endowed with an exceptionally healthy and vigorous 
 frame, could have been the parent of a Shakespeare. 
 
30 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Of her personal character or social gifts nothing 
 whatever is known." 
 
 Neither do we know what was her age at the 
 time of her marriage; but it seems probable that 
 the youngest of so large a family, who survived till 
 1608 and outlived her sisters by many years, was 
 in her teens when John Shakespeare had the good 
 fortune to win her affections. This view is not 
 inconsistent with her appointment as one of the 
 executors of her father's will. Swinburn, in his 
 Treatise of Testaments, 1590 (quoted by Halliwell- 
 Phillipps), says: "The testator hath power to 
 appoint executors not onely persons of ful age, but 
 also infants, and the act done by the infant as 
 executor, as the releasing of the debt due to the 
 testator, or the selling or distributing of the testa- 
 tors goods, is saide to be sufficient in law." 
 
 The match appears to have been every way a 
 fortunate one for John Shakespeare. It gave him 
 the reputation among his neighbours of having 
 married an heiress and invested him with no small 
 degree of local importance. He began at once to 
 gain official honours from his fellow townsmen. In 
 1557 he was elected as one of the ale-tasters, officers 
 whose duty it was to see to the quality of malt 
 liquors and bread. About the same time he was 
 received into the municipal corporation as a burgess ; 
 and in September, 1558, he was appointed one of 
 the four petty constables. He was re-elected to the 
 same office October 6th, 1559 ; and on the same day 
 
Shakespeare's Ancestry and Birth 31 
 
 he was chosen one of the affeerors appointed to 
 determine the fines for those offences which were 
 punishable arbitrarily, and for which no express 
 penalties were prescribed by statute. This latter 
 office he again filled in 1561, when he was elected 
 one of the two chamberlains of the borough, an 
 office that he held for two years, delivering his 
 second account to the corporation in the first month 
 of 1564. It was the duty of the chamberlains to 
 receive the rents and revenues of the corporation, 
 to make all payments, and in general to attend to 
 the financial business of the town. 
 
 John Shakespeare 'was evidently an expert ac- 
 countant, and the greater part of the duties of the 
 chamberlains' office appear to have devolved upon 
 him. The accounts from Michaelmas, 1564, to 
 Michaelmas, 1565, were put under his individual 
 superintendence, as appears from the following head- 
 ing to them when they were submitted to the cor- 
 poration on February 15th, a day on which he is 
 noted among the aldermen present : " The accompt 
 of William Tylor and William Smythe, chambur- 
 lens, made by John Shakspeyr the xvth day of 
 February, in the eight yere of the reigne of our 
 sovereigne Lady Elyzabeth, by the grace of God of 
 Englond, Fraunce and Irelond, queue, defendor of 
 the feith, etc., for one yere endyng at the feest 
 of Sent Mychell tharchaungell now last past." We 
 are told that " in thys accompt the chaumbur ys in 
 det unto John Shakspeyr, to be payd unto hym by 
 
32 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 the next chamburlein, vij.s. iij.d.," an entry which 
 was cancelled upon the repayment in January, 1568. 
 It is difficult to imagine John doing all this work, 
 if he was unable to read and write ; but in signing 
 accounts and other papers he regularly made his 
 mark, as the majority of the aldermen and other 
 town officers at Stratford did. It has been asserted 
 that men who could write sometimes used the mark 
 instead ; but Halliwell-Phillipps says : " There is no 
 reasonable pretence for assuming that, in the time 
 of John Shakespeare, whatever may have been the 
 case at earlier periods, it was the practice for marks 
 to be used by those who were capable of signing 
 their names. No instance of the kind has been dis- 
 covered amongst the numerous records of his era 
 that are preserved at Stratford-on-Avon, while even 
 a few rare examples in other districts, if such are 
 to be found, would be insufficient to countenance a 
 theory that he was able to write. All the known 
 evidences point in the opposite direction, and it 
 should be observed that, in common with many 
 other of his illiterate contemporaries, he did not 
 always adhere to the same kind of symbol, at one 
 time contenting himself with a rudely-shaped cross 
 and at another delineating a fairly good representa- 
 tion of a pair of dividers, an instrument that is used 
 in several trades for making circles, or setting off 
 equal lengths in leather and other materials. John 
 Lambert, the poet's aunt, and Edmund, her hus- 
 band, used respectively at least three and four dif- 
 
Shakespeare's Ancestry and Birth 23 
 
 f erent marks ; " and other instances of the kind are 
 added. The same critic says elsewhere that "nearly 
 all tradesmen then reckoned with counters, the 
 results on important occasions being entered by 
 professional scriveners." 
 
 Sidney Lee, on the other hand, says that John 
 Shakespeare, " when attesting documents, occasion- 
 ally made his mark, but there is evidence in the 
 Stratford archives that he could write with facil- 
 ity." It would be interesting to know more about 
 this "evidence," which Halliwell-Phillipps, than 
 whom no man was more familiar with the Stratford 
 archives, failed to discover. 
 
 In September, 1567, John Shakespeare was one of 
 three persons nominated for the position of high 
 bailiff, or chief magistrate, but failed of election. 
 On the 4th of September the next year, however, he 
 was more fortunate. At that time, according to the 
 records, the corporation " procedyd to thellectione of 
 theire balyf for the next yere," and John Shake- 
 speare was the chosen one out of the three who 
 were nominated, — "the names whereof one to be 
 balyf, Mr. John Shakysper, Mr. Eobert Perrot, 
 Robert Salusburye." He presided as high bailiff 
 at a meeting of the council held on the 1st of 
 October, and at the Court of Eecord on the 6th and 
 20th of the same month. In precepts that he issued 
 in December he is termed, " justiciarius de pace ac 
 ballivus infra burgum" (justice of the peace and 
 bailiff of the town). After his year of office he was 
 
34 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 always called "Master" (or "Magister") in the 
 records. 
 
 In September, 1571, lie was elected chief alder- 
 man, and held that position for a year. While in 
 office (in January, 1572) he was associated with Mr. 
 Adrian Quiney, then the high bailiff, in important 
 legal business. The vote of the council reads thus : 
 " At this hall yt is agreed, by the asent and consent 
 of the aldermen and burgeses aforeseid, that Mr. 
 Adrian Queny, now baylif, and Mr. John Shake- 
 spere shall at Hillary terme next ensuinge deale in 
 the affayres concerninge the commen wealthe of the 
 borroughe accordinge to theire discrecions." 
 
 In 1556, as we have seen, John Shakespeare was 
 called a "glover" in the town records, and he is 
 again so termed, thirty years later (1586), in an 
 official document. After his marriage he speculated 
 in wool bought from the neighbouring farmers, and 
 at times dealt also in corn and other agricultural 
 produce. 
 
 In those days it was common, especially in the 
 smaller towns, for several trades or lines of business 
 to be thus united in the hands of a single person. 
 In many cases the producer of the raw material was 
 also its manufacturer. A glover, for instance, might 
 raise the sheep that furnished him with leather, and 
 might also be a dealer in leather and other articles 
 made from it, as well as in meat and wool. This 
 may explain the tradition that Shakespeare's father 
 was a "butcher." It is recorded in 1595 that 
 
Shakespeare's Ancestry and Birth 2S 
 
 "Thomas Eogers now baieliefe of this towne [Strat- 
 ford] besydes his butchers trade, which untill now 
 of late hee allwaies used, hee ys a buyer and seller 
 of come for great somes, and withall usethe grazinge 
 and buyinge and sellinge of cattell, and bathe in 
 howsbold xiij. persons;" and in the same year we 
 are told, under Hyghe Streete, that " Jbon Perrye 
 useth sometimes his butchers trade besides his hus- 
 bandrye." There can be little doubt that John 
 Shakespeare, in common with other farmers and 
 landowners, often killed his own beasts and pigs 
 both for home consumption and for sale, but it is 
 in the highest degree improbable that his leading 
 business was ever that of a butcher. If that had 
 been the case, there would assuredly have been some 
 allusion to the fact in the local records. 
 
 As already stated, the marriage of John Shake- 
 speare and Mary Arden probably took place early 
 in 1557. It must have been subsequent to the 
 proving of Kobert Arden's will, December 16th, 
 1556, when Mary is referred to by her maiden 
 name; and the baptism of her first child, Joan 
 Shakespeare, occurred September 15th, 1558. This 
 child died in infancy, or before the year 1569, as 
 another daughter named Joan was baptized on the 
 15th of April in that year, but the date of her death 
 or burial is not recorded in the parish register. A 
 second daughter, Margaret, baptized December 2d, 
 1562, was buried April 30th, 1563. 
 
 William, the third child and the first son, was 
 
^6 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 baptized April 26th, 1564, but the date of his birth 
 is not known. It has been generally assumed that 
 it occurred on the 23d of April (St. George's Day), 
 as it was a common practice to baptize infants when 
 three days old ; but the rule, if rule it could be 
 called, was often varied from, and there is not a 
 particle of evidence that it was followed in this 
 instance. Besides, the inscription on the poet's 
 monument in the Stratford church tells us that 
 he died on the 23d of April, 1616, in the 53d year 
 of his age. If he was born on the 23d of April, 
 1564, he would of course be in his 53d year after 
 that date in 1616; but even if it is admitted (as 
 some have urged) that the 53d year might be sup- 
 posed to begin on that day — as in strictness it 
 might at the recurrence of the Jioitr of birth — it is 
 probable that, if he had died on that anniver- 
 sary, the coincidence would be mentioned in the 
 inscription. On the whole, it is safe to say, with 
 Halliwell-Phillipps, that the poet was born " upon 
 or almost immediately before the twenty-second day 
 of April, 1564, but most probably on that Satur- 
 day." 
 
 De Quincey was the first to suggest that April 22d 
 may have been the date ; but it should be understood 
 that the 22d of April, as dates were then reckoned 
 in England, corresponds to our 2d of May, New 
 Style not being introduced into that country until 
 the year 1752. 
 
 Halliwell-Phillipps, referring to De Quincey's sug- 
 
Shakespeare's Ancestry and Birth 37 
 
 gestion, remarks : " It was derived from the circum- 
 stance of the poet's only grandchild having been 
 married to Thomas Nash on the 22d of April, 1626 ; 
 and few things are more likely than the selection 
 of her grandfather's birthday for such a celebration. 
 Only ten years had elapsed since his death, and that 
 he had been kind to her in her childhood may be 
 safely inferred from the remembrances in the will. 
 Whatever opinion may be formed respecting the pre- 
 cise interpretation of the record of the age under 
 the monumental effigy, the latter is a certain evi- 
 dence that Shakespeare was not born after the 23d 
 of April. It may also be fairly assumed that the 
 event could not have happened many days previ- 
 ously, for it was almost the universal practice 
 amongst the middle classes of that time to baptize 
 children very shortly after birth. The notion that 
 Shakespeare died on his birthday was not circulated 
 until the middle of the last century, and it is com- 
 pletely devoid of substantial foundation. Had so 
 unusual a circumstance occurred, it is all but im- 
 possible that it should not have been numbered 
 amongst the early traditions of Stratford-on-Avon, 
 and there is good evidence that no such incident 
 was known in that town at the close of the seven- 
 teenth century." 
 
 At the time of the poet's birth it is quite certain 
 that his parents resided in the western half of the 
 house in Henley Street, which tradition points out 
 as his birthplace. We have seen that one of the 
 
38 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 houses bought by John Shakespeare in 1556 was in 
 Henley Street, and was undoubtedly the eastern 
 half of this same building. He did not become 
 the owner of the western half until 1575. As the 
 town records show that in 1552 his residence was 
 in Henley Street, it is probable that he rented and 
 occupied one of these tenements at that time. It 
 may have been the eastern one, which was the 
 smaller, and of which he became the owner in 1556. 
 His marriage in 1557 and his growing prosperity in 
 business may have led him to rent the more com- 
 modious western tenement for residence, and to use 
 the eastern one for a woolshop. Later (in 1575) he 
 was able to buy the western tenement, thus becoming 
 owner of the whole building. 
 
 There is no record or any other clear evidence of 
 the location of the estate purchased in 1575, but 
 it is unlikely that John Shakespeare would have 
 bought any other house than that which he occu- 
 pied either as a dwelling or as a shop. We have 
 positive evidence that he owned the Henley Street 
 building in 1590, and we know that his son William 
 inherited it, mentioning it in his will in 1616 as 
 then occupied by his sister, Joan Hart. It is un- 
 likely that she would have resided there if it had 
 not been the home of her parents. 
 
 On the whole, we may safely agree with Mrs. 
 Stopes that "either John Shakespeare owned the 
 birthplace [the western tenement] in 1552, and 
 resided in it until he added the woolshop [the 
 
Shakespeare's Ancestry and Birth 39 
 
 eastern tenement] in 1556;' or lie rented the birth- 
 place in 1552, which he purchased in 1575." 
 
 The two tenements are collectively mentioned as 
 the "house in which Shakespeare was born" in 
 Winter's plan of the town, in 1759, and also in 
 Greene's view, engraved in 1769. This view was 
 published just before Garrick's Jubilee of 1769, but 
 up to that time we find no information as to which 
 of the two houses was the birthplace; but during 
 the Jubilee, the western tenement was thus desig- 
 nated, and the room in which the birth occurred 
 was also pointed out. Mr. E. B. Wheler, in his 
 Guide to Stratford-upon-Avon (1814), says : " The 
 stranger is shown a room over the butcher's shop, 
 in which our bard is said to have been born ; and 
 the numberless visitors, who have literally covered 
 the walls of this chamber with names and other 
 memorials, sufficiently evince the increasing resort 
 to this hallowed roof." Mr. Wheler told Halliwell- 
 Phillipps that he was indebted for the identification 
 of this room to his father, who was at the Jubilee. 
 The " butcher's shop " was the lower front room of 
 the western tenement, and the room over it is the 
 one still shown as that in which the poet was born. 
 
 The estate remained in the possession of the 
 Hart family until 1806, when it was sold to one 
 Thomas Court. His widow died in 1846, and the 
 next year the property was " acquired by two com- 
 mittees of gentlemen, the representatives of a large 
 body of independent subscribers who had come 
 
40 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 forward to endeavour to save the Birthplace from 
 whispered designs of an unpatriotic character. The 
 purchase was completed in 1848 to four deleg^-tes 
 selected from the committees, and in July, 1866, 
 those nominal owners surrendered the legal estate, 
 under a public trust, into the hands of the Corpora- 
 tion of Stratford " (Halliwell-Phillipps). 
 
 The infant Shakespeare was exposed to a far 
 more serious peril than the ordinary ills that baby- 
 hood is heir to. The plague visited Stratford in 
 the latter half of 1564, and in those six months 238 
 of the inhabitants were its victims, eighty-three of 
 whom died in the single month of September. This 
 was a full sixth of the entire population, which, 
 estimated by the average number of births and 
 deaths, could not have exceeded fourteen hundred. 
 Almost every house in the town must have been 
 visited by the scourge. That John Shakespeare's 
 was 'spared is regarded by Karl Elze as "a proof 
 that the house was kept in an orderly, cleanly, and 
 rational state," notwithstanding that the occupant 
 had been fined in 1552 for the heap of filth before 
 the front door (page 25), and again, with four of 
 his townsmen, including the high bailiff, in 1558, 
 "for not kepynge ther gutters cleane." Whether 
 John had profited by these sanitary lessons or not, 
 some good angel watched over the cradle of the 
 baby William in that terrible half-year of 1564, 
 and our literature was spared a measureless and 
 irreparable loss. 
 
Shakespeare's Ancestry and Birth 41 
 
 John Shakespeare, like his fellows in the town 
 council, appears to have been a lover of the drama. 
 When he was high bailiff in 1569 licenses for per- 
 formances in the town were granted to the Queen's 
 and the Earl of Worcester's companies of players. 
 The Queen's company received nine shillings and the 
 Earl's twelvepence for their first entertainments, to 
 which the public were admitted free. They doubt- 
 less gave other performances afterwards for which 
 an entrance fee was charged. 
 
 John very likely took the five-year-old William 
 to see them act. We know that in the city of 
 Gloucester (only thirty miles from Stratford) a man 
 took his little boy, born in the same year with 
 Shakespeare, to a free dramatic performance simi- 
 larly provided by the corporation. In his auto- 
 biography, written in his old age, the good man, 
 whose name was Willis, gives a quaint account of 
 the experience which is worth quoting, particularly 
 for the sketch of the play, which was one of the 
 " moralities " then in vogue : — 
 
 " In the city of Gloucester the manner is, as I 
 think it is in other like corporations, that, when 
 players of enterludes come to towne, they first 
 attend the Mayor to enforme him what noble-mans 
 servants they are, and so to get licence for their 
 publike playing ; and if the Mayor like the actors, 
 or would shew respect to their lord and master, he 
 appoints them to play their first play before him- 
 selfe and the Aldermen and Common Counsell of 
 
42 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 the city ; and that is called the Mayors play, where 
 every one that will conies in without money, the 
 Mayor giving the players a reward as hee thinks fit 
 to shew respect unto them. At such a play my 
 father tooke me with him, and made mee stand 
 betweene his leggs as he sate upon one of the 
 benches, where wee saw and heard very well. The 
 play was called the Cradle of Security, wherin was 
 personated a king or some great prince, with his 
 courtiers of severall kinds, amongst which three 
 ladies were in speciall grace with him ; and they, 
 keeping him in delights and pleasures, drew him 
 from his graver counsellors, hearing of sermons and 
 listning to good conn sell and admonitions, that, in 
 the end, they got him to lye downe in a cradle upon 
 the stage, where these three ladies, joyning in a 
 sweet song, rocked him asleepe that he snorted 
 againe; and in the meane time closely conveyed 
 under the cloaths wherewithall he was covered a 
 vizard, like a swine's snout, upon his face, with 
 three wire chaines fastned thereunto, the other end 
 whereof being holden severally by those three ladies 
 who fall to singing againe, and then discovered his 
 face that the spectators might see how they had 
 transformed him, going on with their singing. Whilst 
 all this was acting, there came forth of another 
 doore at the farthest end of the stage two old men, 
 the one in blew with a serjeant-at-armes his mace 
 on his shoulder, the other in red with a drawn 
 sword in his hand and leaning with the other hand 
 
Shakespeare's Ancestry and Birth 43 
 
 upon the others shoulder j and so they two went 
 along in a soft pace round about by the skirt of the 
 stage, till at last they came to the cradle, when all 
 the court was in greatest jollity ; and then the fore- 
 most old man with his mace stroke a fearfuU blow 
 upon the cradle, whereat all the courtiers, with the 
 three ladies and the vizard, all vanished ; and the 
 desolate prince starting up bare-faced, and finding 
 himself e thus sent for to judgement, made a lament- 
 able complaint of his miserable case, and so was 
 carried away by wicked spirits. This prince did 
 personate in the morrall the Wicked of the World ; 
 the three ladies, Pride, Covetousnesse and Luxury; 
 the two old men, the End of the World and the 
 Last Judgment. This sight tooke such impression 
 in me that, when I came towards mans estate, it 
 was as fresh in my memory as if I had seen it 
 newly acted." Willis's book was entitled " Mount 
 Tabor or Private Exercises of a Penitent Sinner, 
 published in the yeare of his age 75, Anno Dom. 
 1639." 
 
CHAPTEE IV. 
 
 Shakespeare's education 
 
 When 'Williain was seven years old he doubtless 
 entered the Stratford G-rammar School. That was 
 the earliest age at which he could be admitted ; and 
 the only other requirement, in the case of a Strat- 
 ford boy, was that he should be able to read ; and 
 this he had probably learned at home, with the aid 
 of a "horn-book," such as he afterwards referred 
 to in Love's Labour's Lost (v. 1, 49) : — 
 
 « Yes, yes ; he teaches boys the horn -book. 
 
 What is a, b, spelt backward with the horn on its head ? " 
 
 Or he may have had an " A-B-C book," which often 
 contained a catechism, in addition to the elementary 
 reading matter; like that to which there is an 
 allusion in King John (i. 1. 196) : — 
 
 " Now your traveller — 
 He and his toothpick at my worship's mess, 
 And when my knightly stomach is sufficed, 
 Why, then I suck my teeth and catechise 
 My picked man of countries : ' My dear sir,' — 
 Thus, leaning on my elbow, I begin, — 
 ' I shall beseech you ' — that is question now ; 
 And then comes answer like an Absey book." 
 
 44 
 
Shakespeare's Education 45 
 
 The Grammar School was an ancient institution 
 in Shakespeare's day, having been originally founded 
 in the first half of the fifteenth century by the 
 local Guild for the children of its members. The 
 Guild was dissolved by Henry VIII. in 1547, and 
 its possessions remained as Crown property until 
 1553, the school being given up. Meanwhile the 
 leading citizens — the old officers of the Guild — 
 had petitioned Edward VI. to restore that society as 
 a municipal corporation. He granted their prayer, 
 and by a charter dated June 7th, 1553, put the gov- 
 ernment of the town in the hands of its inhabitants, 
 making over the estates, revenues, and chattels of 
 the Guild to the corporation. He also re-created 
 the school by royal charter as "The King's New 
 School of Stratford-upon-Avon." The charter de- 
 scribes it as "a certain free grammar school, to 
 consist of one master and teacher, hereafter for ever 
 to endure." The master was to be appointed by the 
 Earl of Warwick, and was to receive twenty pounds 
 a year from the income of certain lands given by 
 the King for that purpose. A part of the expenses 
 of the school is to this day paid from the same 
 royal endowment. 
 
 The training in an English free day-school in the 
 time of Elizabeth depended much on the attain- 
 ments of the master, and these varied greatly, bad 
 teachers being the rule and good ones the exception. 
 "It is a general plague and complaint of the whole 
 land," writes Henry Peacham in the 17th century, 
 
46 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 " for, for one discreet and able teacher, you shall 
 find twenty ignorant and careless ; who (among so 
 many fertile and delicate wits as England affordeth) 
 whereas they make one scholar, they mar ten." 
 E-oger Ascham, some years earlier, had written in 
 the same strain. In many towns the office of 
 schoolmaster was conferred on " an ancient citizen 
 of no great learning." Sometimes a quack con- 
 juring doctor had the position, like Pinch in the 
 Comedy of Errors (v. 1. 237), who is called a " schoole 
 master " in the stage-direction of the folio of 1623, 
 and whom Antipholus of Ephesus describes as 
 
 « One Pinch, a hungry lean -faced villain, 
 A mere anatomy, a mountebank, 
 A threadbare juggler, and a fortune-teller, 
 A needy, hoUow-eyed, sharp-looking wretch, 
 A living dead man." 
 
 In old times the village pedagogue often had the 
 reputation of being a conjurer and one who could 
 exorcise evil spirits — perhaps because he was the 
 one man in the village, except the priest, who could 
 speak Latin, the only language supposed to be " un- 
 derstanded of devils." 
 
 The masters of the Stratford school at the time 
 when Shakespeare probably attended it were uni- 
 versity men of at least fair scholarship and ability, 
 as we infer from the fact that they rapidly gained 
 promotion in the church. Thomas Hunt, who was 
 master during the most important years of Will- 
 
Shakespeare's Education 47 
 
 iam's school course, became vicar of the neigh- 
 bouring village of Luddington. "In the pedantic 
 Holofernes of Love's Laboicr's Lost, Shakespeare 
 has carefully portrayed the best type of the rural 
 schoolmaster, as in Pinch he has portrayed the 
 worst, and the freshness and fulness of detail im- 
 parted to the former portrait may easily lead to the 
 conclusion that its author was drawing upon his 
 own experience." We need not suppose that Holo- 
 fernes is the exact counterpart of Master Hunt, but 
 the latter was probably, like the former, a thorough 
 scholar. 
 
 The studies in the school were mainly Latin, with 
 writing and arithmetic and perhaps a mere smatter- 
 ing of other branches. A little Greek was some- 
 times taught in the grammar schools, and this may 
 have been the case at Stratford. Ben Jonson credits 
 Shakespeare with "small Latin and less Greek," 
 which some critics interpret as equivalent to "no 
 Greek ; " but if that had been Ben's meaning he 
 would pretty certainly have put it so, for he was 
 not inclined to overstate Shakespeare's classical 
 attainments. " Scholars of note," as Professor J. 
 W. Hales remarks, in his article on " Shakespeare's 
 Greek Names" (Cornhill Magazine, Feb., 1876), be- 
 lieve that the "small Latin and less Greek" is 
 "entirely decisive evidence" that Shakespeare's 
 knowledge of these languages was "of an appre- 
 ciable amount, considering how high was the 
 learned Ben's standard." He himself dwells on 
 
48 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 "the full intelligence and mastery of their sense 
 and associations with which he uses" Greek names. 
 Ophelia is one of these, which E-uskin considers to 
 be the Greek dxjieAta (help) and in its application 
 to Polonius's daughter to have an ironical force; 
 and this Professor Hales believes that " Shakespeare 
 may have perceived and felt and acknowledged." 
 To cite another instance, " there can be little doubt 
 that the name Desdemona is from the Greek Svo-- 
 Sat/xtov (ill-starred), and its singular fitness for the 
 unfortunate woman who bears it will need no asser- 
 tion for those who really know the play." Still, as 
 the critic admits, "it would be rash indeed to infer 
 from such considerations that Shakespeare was a 
 Greek scholar of any great pretensions ; " for it 
 "cannot be demonstratively shown that he was 
 conscious of the curious significances " pointed out. 
 The most that can be said is that " in some cases he 
 may have been so." 
 
 The boy's first lessons in Latin were probably 
 from two well-known books of the time, the Acci- 
 dence and the Sententice Pueriles. The examination 
 of Master Page by the Welsh parson and school- 
 master. Sir Hugh Evans, in The Merry Wives of 
 Windsor (iv. 1) is taken almost verbally from the 
 Accidence. 
 
 The Sententice. Pueriles was a collection of brief 
 sentences from many authors, including moral and 
 religious passages intended for the use of the boys 
 on Saints' days. 
 
Shakespeare's Education 49 
 
 The Latin Grammar studied by William was 
 certainly Lilly's, the standard manual of the time, 
 as long before and after. The first edition was pub- 
 lished in 1513, and one was issued as late as 1817, 
 or more than three hundred years afterward. In 
 The Taming of the Shrew (i. 1. 167) a passage from 
 Terence is quoted in the modified form in which it 
 appears in this grammar. 
 
 In Lovers Labour's Lost (iv. 2. 95) Holofernes 
 quotes the "good old Mantuan," as he calls him, 
 the passage being evidently a reminiscence of 
 Shakespeare's schoolboy Latin. The "Mantuan" 
 is not Virgil, as one might at first suppose (and 
 as Mr. Andrew Lang, who is a good scholar, as- 
 sumes in his pleasant comments on the play in 
 Harper's Magazine for May, 1893), but Baptista 
 Mantuanus, or Giovanni Battista Spagnuoli (or 
 Spagnoli), who got the name Mantuanus from his 
 birthplace. He died in 1516, less than fifty years 
 before Shakespeare was born, and was the author 
 of sundry Eclogues, which the pedants of that day 
 preferred to Virgil's, and which were much read in 
 schools. The first Eclogue begins with the passage 
 quoted by Holofernes. 
 
 A little earlier in the same scene the old pedant 
 gives us a quotation from Lilly's Grammar. Other 
 bits of Latin with which he interlards his talk 
 are taken, with little or no variation, from the 
 Sententice Pueriles or similar Elizabethan phrase- 
 books. 
 
50 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 The school hours, in summer, were from six in 
 the morning until six in the evening, and in winter 
 from daybreak till dusk, with intermissions of a 
 quarter of an hour or more at nine and three and 
 an interval of somewhat more than an hour at noon. 
 The time spent in school would be about ten hours. 
 These facts are taken from The Grammar Schoole, 
 by John Brinsley, published in 1612, when the 
 school arrangements did not materially differ from 
 what they were in Shakespeare's boyhood. 
 
 It would seem that some objection had been made 
 to the intermissions at nine and three, on the ground 
 that the boys then " do nothing but play ; " but 
 Brinsley believed that the boys did their work the 
 better for these brief respites from it. He adds: 
 "It is very requisite also that they should have 
 weekly one part of an afternoon for recreation, as 
 a reward of diligence, obedience, and profiting; and 
 that to be appointed at the master's discretion, 
 either the Thursday, after the usual custom, or 
 according to the best opportunity of the place." 
 
 Schoolboys in that olden time appear to have 
 been much like those nowadays. They sometimes 
 played truant, as we learn from allusions in Shake- 
 speare and other writers of the time. The idle 
 pupils often "made shift to escape correction" by 
 methods not unknown in modern schools. Boys 
 who had faithfully prepared their lessons would 
 "prompt" others who had been less diligent. We 
 get some interesting glimpses of this and other 
 
Shakespeare's Education 51 
 
 features of school life in Elizabethan days from 
 the autobiography of Willis, who has already been 
 quoted (page 41). As he was of the same age as 
 Shakespeare, he must have been in the school at 
 Gloucester when William was a pupil at Stratford. 
 He says : — 
 
 " Before Master Dowdale came to be our master 
 at Christ-school, an ancient citizen of no great 
 learning was our schoolmaster, whose manner was 
 to give us severall lessons in the evening, by con- 
 struing it to every forme, and in the next morning 
 to examine us thereupon ; by making all the boyes 
 in the first forme to come from their seates and 
 stand on the outsides of their desks, towardes the 
 middle of the schoole, and so the second forme, and 
 the rest in order, whiles himself walked up and down 
 by them, and hearing them construe their lesson 
 one after another ; and then giving one of the words 
 to one, and another to another (as he thought fit), 
 for parsing of it. Now, when the two highest 
 formes were dispatched, some of them, whom we 
 call prompters, would come and sit in our seates 
 of the lower formes, and so being at our elbowes, 
 would put into our mouths answers to the master's 
 questions, as he walked up and downe by us; and 
 so by our prompters help we made shift to escape 
 correction, but understood little to profit by it; 
 having this circular motion, like the mil-horse that 
 travels all day, yet in the end finds himselfe not 
 a yard further than when he began. 
 
52 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 " I, being thus supported by my prompter, it fell 
 out one day that one of the eldest schoUers and one 
 of the highest forme fell out with mee upon occa- 
 sion of some boyes-play abroad ; and in his anger, 
 to doe me the greatest hurt hee could (which then 
 he thought to be to fall under the rod), he dealt 
 with all the prompters, that none of them should 
 helpe me, and so (as he thought) I must necessarily 
 be beaten. When I found myselfe at this strait, 
 I gathered all my wits together (as we say) and 
 listned the more carefully to my fellowes that con- 
 strued before me, and having also some easie word 
 to my lot for parsing, I made hard shift to escape 
 for that time. And when I observed my adversa^ 
 ries displeasure to continue against me, so as I 
 could have no helpe from my prompters, I doubled 
 my diligence and attention to our masters constru- 
 ing our next lesson to us ; and observing carefully 
 how in construction one word followed and de- 
 pended upon another, which with heedfull observ- 
 ing two or three lessons more, opened the way to 
 shew me how one word was governed of another 
 in the parsing; so as I needed no prompter, but 
 became able to bee a prompter myselfe; and so 
 evill intended to mee by f ellow-schoUer, turned to 
 my great good." 
 
 School discipline at that time was extremely 
 severe, as we learn from Ascham, Peacham, and 
 other writers on education in the sixteenth century. 
 
 Thomas Tusser, who was a pupil at Eton about 
 
Shakespeare's Education 53 
 
 1545, tells of his painful experiences in verses that 
 have been often quoted : — 
 
 " From Paul's I went, to Eton sent, 
 To learn straightways the Latin phrase ; 
 When fifty-three stripes given to me 
 
 At once I had : 
 For fault but small, or none at all 
 It came to pass, thus beat I was. 
 See, Udall, see the mercy of thee 
 
 To me, poor lad ! " 
 
 Nicholas Udall, author of the first English comedy, 
 Ralph Roister Doister, was then master of Eton. 
 
 Sidney Lee, in his Stratford-on-Avon, remarks: 
 "A repulsive picture of the terrors which the 
 schoolhouse had for a nervous child is drawn in 
 a 'pretie and merry new interlude' entitled *The 
 Disobedient Child, compiled by Thomas Ingeland, 
 late student in Cambridge,' about 1560. A boy who 
 implores his father not to force him to go to school 
 tells of his companions' sufferings there — how 
 
 " ' Their tender bodies both night and day 
 
 Are whipped and scourged, and beat like a stone, 
 That from top to toe the skin is away ; ' 
 
 and a story is repeated of how a scholar was tor- 
 mented to death by 'his bloody master.' Other 
 accounts show that the playwright has not gone far 
 beyond the fact." 
 
54 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 We will try to believe, however, that Master 
 Hunt of Stratford was of a milder disposition. 
 Holofernes seems well disposed towards his pupils, 
 and is invited to dine with the father of one of 
 ■them; and Sir Hugh Evans, in his examination of 
 William Page, has a very kindly manner. It is 
 to be noted, indeed, that in few of Shakespeare's 
 references to school life is there any mention of 
 whipping as a punishment. 
 
 How long William remained in the Grammar 
 School we do not know, but probably not more than 
 six years, or until he was thirteen. In 1577 his 
 father was beginning to have bad luck in his busi- 
 ness, and the boy very likely had to be taken from 
 school for work of some kind. 
 
 Whatever he may have learned at the Stratford 
 school, we may be quite certain that it was all the 
 regular schooling he ever had; and we have no 
 reason to suppose that he kept up his classical 
 studies after he left school. Attempts have been 
 made to prove him a scholar, but a careful exami- 
 nation of his works proves the contrary. His quota- 
 tions from Latin authors are confined to those then 
 read in school, and are such as a schoolboy might 
 make. In one instance at least, which has already 
 been mentioned, the form of the quotation shows 
 that it was taken from Lilly's Latin Grammar, and 
 not from the original work, a play of Terence. He 
 makes frequent mistakes in classical names, which 
 a learned man — like Bacon, for instance — could 
 
Shakespeare's Education ^^ 
 
 never have been guilty of. Bacon, indeed, gives 
 some of these very names correctly in passages that 
 have been quoted to illustrate the resemblance be- 
 tween his works and Shakespeare's; while they 
 really show that the dramatist was ignorant of what 
 the philosopher was familiar with. 
 
 The training in the Grammar School was, how- 
 ever, but an insignificant part of Shakespeare's edu- 
 cation, in the broader sense. The poet is born, not 
 made, says the ancient saw; but the development 
 of his genius is largely dependent upon where and 
 under what influences he lives in his childhood and 
 in later years. His genius, as the derivation of the 
 word implies, is a natural endowment, but what it 
 shall become and what it shall produce will be, 
 in great measure, determined by outward circum- 
 stances. 
 
 Shakespeare's only homes were in Stratford-on- 
 Avon and London, and in both he was eminently 
 fortunate. He was born and spent the first twenty 
 years of his life in the country — in the heart of 
 rural England. His manhood was passed in the 
 city — in what was then, as now, the greatest of 
 cities. 
 
 . " We know," as Professor Baynes remarks in his 
 Shakespeare Studies, "that Shakespeare was born 
 and lived for twenty years at Stratford-upon-Avon ; 
 and we can say therefore with certainty that all 
 the physical and moral influences of that pictur- 
 esque and richly-storied Midland district melted 
 
56 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 as years went by into the full current of his ardent 
 blood, became indeed the vital element, the very 
 breath of life his expanding spirit breathed. We 
 know a good deal about his home, his parents, and 
 his domestic surroundings ; and these powerful fac- 
 tors in the development of any mind gifted with 
 insight and sensibility must have acted with re- 
 doubled force on a nature so richly and harmo- 
 niously endowed as that of the Stratford poet. 
 It would be difBcult indeed to overestimate the 
 combined effect of these vital elements on his capa- 
 cious and retentive mind, a mind in which the 
 receptive and creative powers were so equally 
 poised and of such unrivalled strength." 
 
 Warwickshire was known in the poet's own day 
 as "the heart of England." Indeed, it was his 
 friend, Michael Drayton, born the year before him- 
 self, who first called it so. In his Poly-Olbion (1613) 
 Drayton refers to his native county as "That shire 
 which we the heart of England well may call." The 
 form of the expression seems to imply that it was 
 original with him. It was doubtless suggested by 
 the central situation of the county, about equidis- 
 tant from the eastern, western, and southern shores 
 of the island ; but it is no less appropriate with 
 reference to its historical, romantic, and poetical 
 associations. Drayton, whose rhymed geography in 
 the Poly-Olbion is rather prosaic and tedious, attains 
 a kind of genuine inspiration when, in his 13th 
 book, he comes to describe 
 
Shakespeare's Education 57 
 
 " Brave Warwick that abroad so long advanced her Bear, 
 By her illustrious Earls renowned everywhere ; 
 Above her neighbouring shires which always bore her 
 head." 
 
 The verse catches something of the music of the 
 throstle and the lark, of the woosel "with golden 
 bill " and the nightingale with her tender strains, 
 as he tells of these Warwickshire birds, and of the 
 region with " flowery bosom brave " where they 
 breed and warble; but in Shakespeare the same 
 birds sing with a finer music — more like that to 
 which we may still listen in the fields and woodlands 
 along the lazy-winding Avon. 
 
 In Shakespeare's time Warwickshire was divided 
 by the Avon into two districts, known respectively 
 as Arden and Feldon. Arden included the forest 
 region north of the river, while Feldon was the 
 open country to the south, made up of arable 
 and pasture land interspersed with woods, as 
 the Arden district was with scattered farms and 
 fields. 
 
 Agriculture and mining have in modern times 
 effaced the distinction between these ancient dis- 
 tricts, and these causes had begun to operate even 
 in the Elizabethan age. The Forest of Arden, which 
 had extended across the entire county and far 
 beyond it on either side, had then become much 
 restricted, and farms and pastures were encroaching 
 more and more upon its limits ; but it still retained 
 enough of its primitive character to render the 
 
£8 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 youthful poet familiar with the beauty and freedom 
 of woodland life, and to enable him later to impart 
 to the scenery of As You Like It a freshness and 
 reality which otherwise he could hardly have given 
 it. It is true that he took the name of Arden from 
 Lodge's novel of Bosalynde, from which he derived 
 the main incidents of his plot ; and in the novel the 
 Forest of Arden is the one by that name on the bor- 
 ders of France and Belgium ; but it was the War- 
 wickshire Arden that inspired the "woodnotes 
 wild " which Milton ascribes to him, and the expres- 
 sion was doubtless suggested by the perusal of this 
 charming pastoral play. 
 
 Not only in As You Like It, but in Love's Labour^ s 
 Lost, the Midsummer-Night's Bream, and The Merry 
 Wives of Windsor, to say nothing of minor touches 
 in other plays and in the poems, Shakespeare shows 
 an intimate knowledge of woodland scenery and 
 life ; and he must have gained much, if not most of 
 this knowledge from his youthful familiarity with 
 the Warwickshire Arden. 
 
 His love of nature was that of a child for its 
 foster-mother; Wordsworth's was never more so. 
 We can imagine Nature bending over his cradle, 
 and singing in the slightly varied verse of the 
 Cumberland minstrel, — 
 
 " This child I to myself will take, 
 He shall be mine, and I will make 
 A poet of my own." 
 
Shakespeare's Education 59 
 
 His poetry is full of the beauty and the fragrance of 
 the flowers that bloom in and about Stratford ; and 
 the wonderful accuracy of his allusions to them- 
 their colours, their habits, their time of blossom- 
 inc. everything concerning them - shows how thor- 
 oughly at home with them he was, how intensely he 
 loved and studied them. The Avon flows through 
 his verse, with the trees that hang over it and the 
 meadows that border it. He pictures it as the scene 
 of poor Ophelia's death: — 
 
 " There is a willow grows aslant a brook, 
 That shows his hoar leaves in the glassy stream." 
 
 The description could have been written only by 
 one who had observed the reflection of the whitish 
 underside of the willow-leaves in the water over 
 which they hung. It is the Avon too which is 
 reproduced in that singularly musical simile m 
 The Two Gentlemen of Verona, one of his earliest 
 plays : — 
 « The current that with gentle murmur glides, 
 
 Thou know'st, being stopp'd, impatiently doth rage ; 
 
 But when his fair course is not hindered, 
 
 He makes sweet music with the enamell'd stones, 
 
 Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge 
 
 He overtaketh in his pilgrimage, 
 
 And so by many winding nooks he strays 
 
 With wiUing sport to the wild ocean. 
 
 Then let me go, and hinder not my course. 
 
 I'll be as patient as a gentle stream, 
 
6o Life of Shakespeare 
 
 And make a pastime of each weary step, 
 Till the last step have brought me to my love ; 
 And there I 11 rest, as after much turmoil 
 A blessed soul doth in Elysium." 
 
 As Mr. J. E. Wise says in his little book on Strat- 
 ford, " take up what play you will, and you will 
 find glimpses of the scenery roimd Stratford. His 
 maidens ever sing of ' blue - veined violets,' and 
 ' daisies pied,' and ' pansies that are for thoughts,' 
 and ' ladies'-smocks all silver- white,' that still stud 
 the meadows of the Avon. . . . All this, and the 
 tenderness that such beauty gives, you find in the 
 pages of Shakespeare, and it is not too much to say 
 that he painted them because they were ever asso- 
 ciated in his mind with all that he held precious 
 and dear, both of the earliest and the latest scenes 
 of his life." 
 
 It was also in Stratford and its neighbourhood 
 that he got the minute knowledge of the practical 
 side of country life which appears in his works. 
 Wilmecote, the home of his mother, was within 
 walking distance ; and so was Snitterfield, where his 
 father had lived before he came to Stratford, and 
 where his uncle Henry still resided. John Shake- 
 speare, as we have seen, must have had large deal- 
 ings with the farmers there and elsewhere; and 
 William must have seen much of these people, their 
 habits, manners, and employments, in the company 
 of his father, or when wandering at his own will in 
 the vicinity of Stratford. He went to London before 
 
Shakespeare's Education 6i 
 
 his literary career began, and lived there until it 
 closed, with only brief occasional visits to Warwick- 
 shire. In the metropolis he could not have added 
 much to his early lessons in the country life and 
 character of which he has given us such graphic and 
 faithful delineations. These are thoroughly fresh 
 and real; they tell of the outdoor life he loved, 
 and never smell of the study lamp, as Milton's and 
 Spenser's allusions to plants, flowers, and other 
 natural objects often do. 
 
 Volumes have been written on the plant-lore and 
 garden-craft of Shakespeare; and the authors dwell 
 equally on the poet's ingrained love of the country 
 and his keen observation of natural phenomena and 
 the agricultural practice of the time. Mr. Ella- 
 combe, in his Plant-lore of Shakespeare, after quot- 
 ing the dialogue of the Gardener and his servant in 
 Richard 11. (iii. 4. 29-66), where they draw lessons 
 of political wisdom from the details of their occu- 
 pation, remarks: "This most interesting passage 
 would almost tempt us to say that Shakespeare 
 was a gardener by profession; certainly no other 
 passages that have been brought to prove his real 
 profession are more minute than this. It proves 
 him to have had practical experience in the work, 
 and I think we may safely say that he was no mere 
 'prentice hand in the use of the pruning-knif e." But 
 this play was written in London, where, though city 
 gardens were then common, and the suburbs were 
 semi-rural, he could hardly have known anything 
 
62 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 more of practical gardening than he had learned in 
 his boyhood and youth at Stratford. 
 
 Grafting and the various ways of propagating 
 plants by cuttings, slips, etc., are described or al- 
 luded to with equal accuracy; also the mischief 
 done by weeds, blights, frosts, and other enemies of 
 the husbandman and horticulturist. He writes on 
 all these matters as we might expect Jiim to have 
 done in his last years at Stratford, after he had had 
 actual experience in the management of a large 
 garden at New Place and in farming operations on 
 other lands he had bought in the neighbourhood; 
 but all these passages, like the one quoted from 
 Richard II., were written long before he had a 
 garden of his own. They were reminiscences of 
 his observation as a boy, not the results of his 
 experience as a country gentleman. 
 
 For its historical associations Warwickshire was 
 no less the fitting region for the birth and education 
 of a great national poet. From the time of the 
 Roman occupation it had played an important part 
 in the national history. Several Roman roads tra- 
 versed this district, and Stratford got its name 
 from the ford where one of these streets crossed 
 the Avon. The sites of several Eoman camps, or 
 fortified stations, were in the neighbourhood, Al- 
 cester, one of these, being only five miles from 
 Stratford. When the Saxons conquered the coun- 
 try they appear to have met with less resistance 
 here than in the eastern part of England. As it 
 
Shakespeare's Education 6^ 
 
 would seem, there was a gradual coalescing of the 
 invaders with the natives rather than any fierce or 
 prolonged struggle between them ; so that this was 
 " the district where, from an early period, the two 
 race elements that have gone to the making of the 
 nation were most nearly balanced and most com- 
 pletely blended." 
 
 In Anglo-Saxon times Warwickshire formed a 
 part of the kingdom of Mercia, which was for a 
 while the dominant power of the country. Later, 
 from its central position, it naturally was traversed 
 and occupied by the rival armies during the civil 
 wars. The most important events in its annals 
 before the time of Shakespeare occurred during 
 the two greatest civil conflicts in the early history 
 of the country — the Barons' War in the thirteenth 
 century, and the Wars of the Eoses in the fif- 
 teenth. The decisive battles that closed these long 
 and bloody conflicts were both fought on the bor- 
 ders of Warwickshire, — the battle of Evesham on 
 its southwestern boundary, and that of Bosworth 
 Field on the northeastern. The great leaders in 
 each struggle were directly connected with War- 
 wickshire, Simon de Montfort, the founder of the 
 House of Commons, and Eichard Neville, Earl of 
 Warwick, the "King-maker." 
 
 The castles of Kenilworth and Warwick, which 
 are to-day among the chief attractions of the dis- 
 trict — the one stupendous in its dilapidation and 
 decay; the other, as Scott described it, "that 
 
64 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 fairest monument of ancient and chivalrous splen- 
 dour which, yet remains uninjured by time" — 
 these mighty structures, fortresses and palaces in 
 one, were, during those great wars, the main centres 
 of military and political interest in England. 
 
 Kenilworth, in 1254, was given by Henry III. to 
 Simon de Montfort, who had married Eleanor, the 
 King's sister. De Montfort, who was now "in all 
 but name a king," lived in regal state in the castle. 
 Later he joined the rebellion against the King, and, 
 with his eldest son, was killed at Evesham in 1265. 
 His youngest son, Simon, vigorously defended Ken- 
 ilworth, which was besieged by the royal forces for 
 several months; but, when provisions gave out, it 
 was compelled to surrender, and Henry gave it to 
 his youngest sou, Edward Earl of Lancaster, after- 
 ward created Earl of Leicester. 
 
 During the Wars of the Eoses the castle was 
 alternately taken by the partisans of the rival 
 houses. In 1436 Henry V. kept his Christmas 
 there. In 1562 (two years before the birth of 
 Shakespeare) Elizabeth gave it to Eobert Dudley, 
 Earl of Leicester, by whom the Queen was magnifi- 
 cently entertained in 1575. 
 
 That was a memorable occasion in the annals of 
 Kenilworth and of Warwickshire. From July 9th 
 to July 27th there was a succession of holiday 
 pageants in the most sumptuous and elaborate style 
 of the time, and it attracted spectators from all the 
 country roundabout. Master Robert Laneham, whose 
 
Shakespeare's Education 65 
 
 accuracy as a chronicler is not to be doubted, though 
 he may have been, as Scott calls him, " as great a 
 coxcomb as ever blotted paper," mentions, as a proof 
 of the earl's hospitality, that "the clock bell rang 
 not a note all the while her highness was there; 
 the clock stood also still withal; the hands stood 
 firm and fast, always pointing at two o'clock," 
 the hour of banquet! The quantity of beer drunk 
 on the occasion was 320 hogsheads, and the total 
 expense of the entertainments is said to have been 
 £1,000 ($5,000) a day. 
 
 John Shakespeare, as a well-to-do citizen of Strat- 
 ford, would be likely to see something of that stately 
 show, and it is not improbable that he took his son 
 William with him. The description in the llidswm- 
 Tner-Nighfs Dream (ii. 1. 150) of 
 
 " a mermaid on a dolphin's back 
 Uttering such dulcet and harmonious sounds 
 That the rude sea grew civil at her song," 
 
 appears to be a reminiscence of certain features of 
 the Kenilworth pageant The minstrel Arion fig- 
 ured there, on a dolphin's back, singing of course; 
 and Triton, "in the likeness of a mermaid," com- 
 manded the waves to be still; and among the 
 fireworks there were shooting-stars that fell into 
 ihe water, like the stars that, as Oberon adds, 
 
 " shot madly from their spheres 
 To hear the sea-maid's music." 
 
66 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 When Shakespeare was writing that early play, 
 with its scenes in fairy-land, what more natural 
 than that this youthful visit to what must then 
 have seemed veritable fairy-land should recur to 
 his memory and blend with the creations of his 
 fancy ? 
 
 Warwick Castle, which, according to tradition, 
 was founded by Cymbeline, came into the posses- 
 sion of the Nevilles by the marriage of Eichard the 
 King-maker with Anne, daughter and heiress of 
 Eichard Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick. As has 
 be6n intimated, the prominent part which that 
 " setter-up and puller-down of kings " played in 
 the making of history drew all eyes towards War- 
 wick. He was the most conspicuous personage of 
 those troublous times ; and he was as munificent as 
 he was mighty in statesmanship and war. The 
 immense revenues from his patrimony were aug- 
 mented by the income he derived from his various 
 high offices in the state; but his wealth was scat- 
 tered with a royal liberality. It is said that he 
 daily fed thirty thousand people at his numerous 
 mansions. 
 
 The Lady Anne of Richard III., whom the hero 
 of the play wooes in such novel fashion, was the 
 youngest daughter of the King-maker, born at War- 
 wick Castle in 1452. She became the wife of 
 Edward, Prince of Wales, son of Henry VI., who 
 was slain at the battle of Tewkesbury. 
 
 The Earl of Warwick who figures in 2 Henry IV. 
 
Shakespeare's Education 67 
 
 was the Kichard Beauchamp already mentioned as 
 the father of Anne who became the wife of the 
 King-maker. He appears again in the play of 
 Henry V., and also in the first scene of 1 Henry VI., 
 though he has nothing to say ; and, as some believe, 
 he (and not his son) is the Earl of Warwick in the 
 rest of the play, in spite of certain historical diffi- 
 culties which that theory involves. In 2 Henry IV. 
 (iii. 1. QQ) Shakespeare makes the mistake of calling 
 him "Nevil" instead of Beauchamp. 
 
 The title of the Warwick earls became extinct 
 with the death of the King-maker on the battle- 
 field of Barnet. It was then bestowed on George, 
 Duke of Clarence, who was drowned in the butt of 
 wine by order of his loving brother Eichard. It 
 then passed to the young son of Clarence, who is 
 another character in the play of Richard III. He, 
 like his unfortunate father, was long imprisoned in 
 the Tower, and ultimately murdered there after the 
 farce of a trial on account of his alleged complicity 
 in a plot against Henry VII. 
 
 Shakespeare claimed more than a general patriotic 
 interest in the historical renown of his native coun- 
 try. When his father, in 1596, applied for a coat 
 of arms, the draft granting it declared that an ances- 
 tor of his had fought for Henry VII. at Bosworth 
 Field, by which the House of Tudor gained the 
 throne. It is by no means certain that there was 
 any good foundation for this claim, though it is not 
 improbable that some member of the many families 
 
68 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 bearing the name of Shakespeare may have done 
 honourable service in the battle which terminated 
 that long and bloody civil conflict. 
 
 But whether any of the poet's own ancestors 
 fought at Bosworth Field or not, he " would be sure 
 in his youth to hear, almost at first hand, a multi- 
 tude of exciting stories and stirring incidents con- 
 nected with so memorable and far-reaching a victory." 
 The battle was fought only eight years before he was 
 born, and, as Professor Baynes remarks, "public 
 events of importance are vividly transmitted by 
 local tradition for more than double that length 
 of time." In that day the great events in the 
 national history were popularly preserved and 
 transmitted by means of oral tradition. Only the 
 educated few could learn about them through lit- 
 erary chronicles and records. "The popular mind 
 was of necessity largely fed and stimulated by the 
 spoken narratives of the rustic festival and the win- 
 ter fireside ; and a quiet settled neighbourhood like 
 Stratford, out of the crush, but near the great cen- 
 tres of national activity, would be peculiarly rich 
 in these stored-up materials of unwritten history." 
 
 Warwickshire thus supplied the means of a liberal 
 elementary education in the heroic annals of the 
 past, and especially in the great events of the recent 
 past, the final years of the Wars of the Eoses. How 
 well Shakespeare profited by that elementary educa- 
 tion his subsequent work in dramatizing the history 
 of this period may show. Writers of history have 
 
Shakespeare's Education 69 
 
 testified to the value of his interpretation of it. Mr. 
 Gairdner, in the preface to The Houses of Lancaster 
 and York, says : " For this period of English history 
 we are fortunate in possessing an unrivalled inter- 
 preter in our great dramatic poet Shakespeare. A 
 regular sequence of historical plays exhibits to us, 
 not only the general character of each successive 
 reign, but nearly the whole chain of leading events 
 from the days of Richard II. to the death of Rich- 
 ard III. at Bosworth. Following the guidance of 
 such a master mind, we realize for ourselves the 
 men and actions of the period in a way we cannot 
 do in any other epoch. And this is the more impor- 
 tant as the age itself, especially towards the close, 
 is one of the most obscure in English history. Dur- 
 ing the period of the Wars of the Roses we have, 
 comparatively speaking, very few contemporary 
 narratives of what took place, and anything like 
 a general history of the times was not written till a 
 much later date. But the doings of that stormy 
 age, — the sad calamities endured by kings — the 
 sudden changes of fortune in great men — the glit- 
 ter of chivalry and the horrors of civil war, — all 
 left a deep impression upon the mind of the nation, 
 which was kept alive by vivid traditions of the past 
 at the time that our great dramatist ivrote. Hence, 
 notwithstanding the scantiness of records and the 
 meagreness of ancient chronicles, we have singularly 
 little difficulty in understanding the spirit and char- 
 acter of the times." 
 
yo Life of Shakespeare 
 
 The legendary lore of the district was equally 
 stimulating and inspiring to a poet, "Warwickshire 
 was eminently a field of romance and old heroic 
 story and the scene of many an ancient ballad. 
 G-uy of Warwick was a foremost hero in this popu- 
 lar poetry, and his gigantic spectre still haunts the 
 scenes of his traditional exploits. Learned antiqua- 
 rians in these latter days have proved that, although 
 he may have been a real personage, the adventures 
 ascribed to him are mostly mythical, but the com- 
 mon people believe in him as of old. His sword, 
 shield, and breastplate, which alone weighs more 
 than fifty pounds, are preserved in the great hall 
 of Warwick Castle, with his porridge-pot of metal 
 holding more than a hundred gallons and the flesh- 
 fork to match. The vulgar faith in these ponderous 
 relics is not to be shaken, however prosaic skeptics 
 may smile at it. No doubt Shakespeare in his boy- 
 hood believed it all; and he did not forget it in 
 later life when he put allusions to Colbrand, the big 
 Saracen whom Guy conquered and slew, into the 
 mouths of certain characters in his plays. 
 
 Warwickshire was also prominent in the history 
 of the English Drama. Coventry was renowned for 
 the mediaeval religious plays performed by the Grey 
 Friars of its great monastery, and kept up, though 
 with diminished pomp, even after the dissolution of 
 their establishment. It was not until 1580 that 
 these pageants were entirely suppressed ; and Shake- 
 speare, who was then sixteen years old, may have 
 
Shakespeare's Education 71 
 
 been an eye-witness of the latest of them. No doubt 
 he heard stories of their attractions in former times, 
 when, as we are told by Dugdale, they were "acted 
 with mighty state and reverence by the friars of 
 this house, had theatres for the several scenes, very 
 large and high, placed upon wheels, and drawn to 
 all the eminent parts of the city for the better 
 advantage of spectators; and contained the story 
 of the New Testament composed into old English 
 rhyme." There were forty-three of these ancient 
 plays, performed by the monks until, as Tennyson 
 puts it, 
 
 " Bluff Harry broke into the spence, 
 And turned the cowls adrift." 
 
 When the boy Shakespeare saw them — if he did 
 see them — they were played by the different guilds, 
 or associations of tradespeople. Thus the Nativity 
 and the Offering of the Magi, with the Flight into 
 Egypt and the Slaughter of the Innocents, were 
 rendered by the company of Shearmen and Tailors ; 
 the Smiths' pageant was the Crucifixion; that of 
 the Cappers was the Resurrection ; and so on. The 
 account-books of the guilds are still extant, with 
 charges for helmets for Herod and gear for his wife, 
 for a beard for Judas and the rope to hang him, etc. 
 In the accounts of the Smiths or Armourers we find 
 record of expenditures for " schepskens for gods 
 cote," a "pair of gloves for god," "the mendyng of 
 Herods hed," and many other stage properties. 
 
72 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Herod, as is well known, was a very important 
 character in tliese plays, and the manner in which 
 he blustered and raged about the stage became pro- 
 verbial. In Hamlet (iii. 2. 16) we have the expres- 
 sion, "It out-herods Herod;" and in The Merry 
 Wives of Windsor (ii. 1. 20), "What a Herod of 
 Jewry is this ! " In Henry V. (ii. 3. 43) there is an 
 allusion to the " lost souls," who, as well as " saved 
 souls," appeared in the play of the Last Judgment ; 
 the flea on Bardolph's rubicund nose being com- 
 pared to " a black soul burning in hell-fire." These 
 " souls " were dressed in black, or black and yellow, 
 and were represented as disappearing in "hell- 
 mouth," a huge and grotesque head of canvas, the 
 jaws of which were made to open and shut and to 
 vomit flames. In the books of the guilds are entries 
 of money paid for " kepyng of f yer at hell mouthe," 
 etc. 
 
 Shakespeare has other allusions to these old 
 dramatical performances, proving that he knew 
 them by report if he had not seen them. 
 
 Historical pageants, not Biblical in subject, were 
 also familiar to the good people of Coventry a cen- 
 tury at least before the dramatist was born. " The 
 Nine Worthies," which he has burlesqued in Lovers 
 Labour's Lost, was acted there before Henry VI. and 
 his queen in 1455. The original text of the play 
 has been preserved, and portions of Shakespeare's 
 travesty seem almost like a parody of it. 
 
 Stratford itself, as we have seen, was one of the 
 
Shakespeare's Education 73 
 
 provincial towns which were favoured with the visits 
 of travelling theatrical companies. The instance 
 already mentioned (page 41) was the first of the 
 kind recorded in the Stratford archives, and John 
 Shakespeare, who was then high bailiff, may have 
 invited them to come to the town. Perhaps he 
 had a natural taste for the drama, and his son's 
 bent in that direction may thus have been hered- 
 itary. However that may have been, this was 
 the beginning of theatrical performances in Strat- 
 ford, though in succeeding years they were frequent. 
 Of course the young Shakespeare witnessed them; 
 and we can surmise how they fired his imagination 
 and fostered his inborn taste for the drama. This 
 was an important part of his education which he 
 might have entirely missed in ninety-nine out of a 
 hundred little provincial towns in England. 
 
 We see, then, that all outward conditions in 
 Stratford and its neighbourhood were peculiarly 
 favourable to the awakening, stimulating, and de- 
 veloping of Shakespeare's genius. He himself 
 could not have been wholly unconscious of this; 
 and no wonder that he loved his native town, and 
 that in London, notwithstanding the attractions 
 and advantages of the metropolis, he steadily 
 planned for his return to Stratford, buying the best 
 house in the place, adding other lands to the estate, 
 and finally coming back to spend the last years of 
 his life there. 
 
 In his second home, where he spent more than 
 
74 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 twenty-five years, including the whole of his career 
 as an actor and author, he was equally fortunate. 
 London was then, as now, the metropolis of the 
 kingdom, the capital of arts and letters no less than 
 of the national government. 
 
 It would be an insult to any intelligent reader to 
 attempt telling why the city was the place of places 
 for continuing his education. The mighty metropo- 
 lis of to-day, with almost twenty times the popula- 
 tion of that period, cannot gather so brilliant a 
 company of poets and dramatists as used to meet 
 at the Mermaid in Bread Street ; to say nothing of 
 the many other men of letters who thronged "the 
 spacious times of great Elizabeth," and who either 
 had their homes in the city or were frequent visitors 
 there. What an age it was ! And London was the 
 centre of its literary activity and brilliancy. What 
 stimulus, what inspiration must Shakespeare have 
 found in its life and society ! He might have said, 
 with Beaumont in his letter to Ben Jonson : — 
 
 " What things have we seen 
 Done at the Mermaid ! Heard words that have been 
 So nimble and so full of subtle flame 
 As if that every one from whom they came 
 Had meant to put his whole wit in a jest, 
 And had resolved to live a fool the rest 
 Of his dull life." 
 
 And this was but the diversion, the recreation of 
 Shakespeare's daily life. The player and the dram- 
 
Shakespeare's Education 75 
 
 atist tlien associated not only with the wits of his 
 own circle and the congenial spirits who met with 
 them at the Mermaid or the Falcon, but with noble- 
 men and courtiers, with royalty itself. Elizabeth 
 never visited the public theatres, but she often had 
 Shakespeare's plays performed before her; and the 
 tradition that he wrote The Merry Wives of Windsor 
 at her command is not improbable. 
 
 The city itself was a great illustrated book of 
 history — far more so than now when so many 
 of its pages have been destroyed or defaced, when 
 so many buildings connected with the people and 
 the events of the past have disappeared and their 
 very localities have become matters of doubt or 
 dispute, owing to the Great Pire of 1666 and the 
 extensive changes due to the growth of the city. 
 Few remains and relics of the London of that day 
 are now left, and, with all that ancient pictures and 
 descriptions, and all that the patient researches of 
 antiquarians can do to help us, it is impossible for 
 us by any effort of the imagination to see Shake- 
 speare's London as he saw it, or to understand how 
 it must have moved and impressed him as a student 
 of the history which he was destined to reproduce 
 and interpret, not by adding to its musty annals, but 
 by making it live again before our eyes. 
 
 Not to dwell longer on Shakespeare's education, 
 we see that, though, so far as schooling, properly so 
 called, was concerned, it was inferior to what a boy 
 of thirteen or fourteen would have got nowadays, it 
 
<-j(i Life of Shakespeare 
 
 was in the broader sense far from inadequate as a 
 preparation for the work he was to do as a poet and 
 dramatist. Warwickshire was an admirable train- 
 ing-school for the boy, in the study of nature, his- 
 tory, and romance, as well as rural life and character ; 
 and London was a liberal education for the young 
 man, not inferior, to say the least, to what Oxford 
 or Cambridge might have given him. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 shakespeake's makeiage 
 
 What Shakespeare did after leaving school we 
 can only conjecture. It is not improbable that for 
 some time he helped his father in some part of his 
 business. Aubrey quotes a tradition that he taught 
 school for a while. It is barely possible that he 
 may have been a " pupil-teacher," so called, in the 
 Stratford school. The tradition that he was bound 
 apprentice to a butcher and later ran away to 
 London is less probable. Yet another tradition 
 makes him an attorney's clerk for a time ; and the 
 many references, literal and figurative, in his works 
 to technicalities of the law, especially such as are 
 not likely to become known to non-professional peo- 
 ple, have led Lord Campbell and other specialists 
 to believe that he must have studied law somewhat 
 thoroughly ; but Judge Allen, of the Supreme Judi- 
 cial Court of Massachusetts, in his recent Notes on 
 the BacoTi- Shakespeare Question (1900), has shown 
 that such legal allusions are equally common in 
 other dramatists of the time, and that Shakespeare, 
 instead of being uniformly accurate in these mat- 
 ters, as Lord Campbell and others have assumed, is 
 
 77 
 
78 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 often guilty of mistakes which a lawyer or student 
 of law would never make. This may be regarded 
 as the final word on the question of the supposed 
 legal attainments of the dramatist. 
 
 The first indubitable fact in his life after leaving 
 school which we know is that of his marriage, which 
 occurred when he was between eighteen and nine- 
 teen years of age. The bride, Anne Hathaway, was 
 about eight years older, as we infer from the in- 
 scription on her tombstone, which states that she 
 died on the " 6th day of August, 1623, being then 
 of the age of 67 years." There is little reason to 
 doubt that she was the daughter of Eichard Hatha- 
 way, of Shottery, a village about a mile from Strat- 
 ford. 
 
 Eiichard Hathaway' s will was drawn up on the 
 1st of September, 1581, and was duly proved July 
 9th, 1582, probably a short time after his death, 
 the exact date of which is unknown. Seven chil- 
 dren are mentioned in the document, Bartholomew, 
 Thomas, John, William, Agnes, Catharine, and Mar- 
 garet. Anne Hathaway was probably the " Agnes " 
 of the will, as the two names were then interchange- 
 able. Thomas Hathaway's daughter Agnes, men- 
 tioned in Eichard' s will, is called Anne twice in the 
 parish register. In the Bishopton register we find 
 "Thomas Greene and Agnes his wife" and later 
 " Thomas Greene and Anne his wife," clearly refer- 
 ring to the same people. The wife of Phillip Hens- 
 lowe, who is called Agnes in his will, appears as Anne 
 
Shakespeare's Marriage 79 
 
 in the entry of her funeral at Dulwich, and also, ac- 
 cording to Aubrey, in the inscription on her grave- 
 stone. A tourist of the 17th century, transcribing 
 an inscription in the Stratford church, unconsciously 
 deviates from the original thus: "here lyeth the 
 bodyes of William Clopton, Esquier, and Anne his 
 wife . . . the said Agnes deceased 17 of September, 
 1596." Nancy was sometimes used for both Anne 
 and Agnes ; and Annys, Annes, Anneys, Annyce, etc., 
 are merely old forms of Anne. 
 
 The house at Shottery known as "Anne Hatha- 
 way's Cottage " is believed to have been the dwell- 
 ing of Eichard Hathaway ; and the trustees of the 
 Stratford Birthplace purchased it in 1892 for pres- 
 ervation as another memorial of the poet. It must 
 be confessed, however, that the tradition which con- 
 nects it with his wife is comparatively recent. Hal- 
 liwell-Phillipps says : — 
 
 "The earliest notice of its presumed locality is 
 in an unpublished version of Eowe's biography that 
 was compiled about the year 1750 by the Eev. 
 Joseph Greene, then master of the grammar school 
 at Stratford, in which, as originally written, occurs 
 the following paragraph : 'His (Shakespeare's) wife 
 was the daughter of one Hathaway, a substantial 
 yeoman in the neighbourhood of Stratford, probably 
 of a place about a mile from thence call'd LudcUng- 
 ton, where a substantial family of that name and 
 occupation still reside;^ the manner in which the 
 name of that hamlet is introduced showing that 
 
8o Life of Shakespeare 
 
 the attribution was conjectural. That this was the 
 case is also apparent from revisions that were after- 
 wards made by Greene, who erased the italicized 
 words in the concluding sentences of the above 
 quotation rewriting them in these terms: 'prob- 
 ably at that place about half a mile from thence 
 call'd Shotteriche, where a creditable family of the 
 name aforemention'd Hill within these few years re- 
 sided.^ The retention of the word probably appears 
 to exclude what might otherwise have been the in- 
 ference, that the alterations were the result of a 
 more careful investigation; but the same writer, 
 nevertheless, in a subsequent memorandum accepts 
 the Shottery theory as an established fact: 'As 
 Shakespear, the poet, married his wife Hathaway 
 from Shottery, a village near Stratford-upon-Avon, 
 possibly he might become possessor of a remarkable 
 house there as part of her portion, and, jointly 
 with his wife, convey it as part of their daughter 
 Judith's portion to Thomas Queeny; — it is certain 
 that one Queeny, an elderly gentleman, sold it to 
 . . . Harvey esq., of Stockton, near Southam, War- 
 wickshire, father of John Harvey Thursby, esq., of 
 Abington, near Northampton, and that the afore- 
 said Harvey sold it again to Samuel Tyler, Esq., 
 whose sisters, as his heirs, now enjoy it ' (note by 
 Greene written on July the 4th, 1770). This 
 Quiney hypothesis is disproved by the passages in 
 Shakespeare's will that refer to Judith, and there is 
 no probability that he was ever the owner of the 
 
Shakespeare's Marriage 8i 
 
 house here mentioned, and which, it is hardly nec- 
 essary to observe, is not the Anne Hathaway Cot- 
 tage of the present day. 
 
 "The earliest reference to the present Anne 
 Hathaway's Cottage under that title is that found 
 in Ireland's Picturesque Views on the Warwickshire 
 Avon, 1795, in which work there is an engraving of 
 the dwelling introduced by the following observa- 
 tions: 'The cottage in which she is said to have 
 lived with her parents is yet standing, and although 
 I have doubts as to the truth of the relation, I have 
 yet given a faithful representation of it in the 
 annexed view ; — it is still occupied by the descend- 
 ants of her family, who are poor and numerous ; — 
 to this same humble cottage I was referred, when 
 pursuing the same inquiry, by the late Mr. Harte 
 of Stratford,' the person last named, who died in 
 1793, being a descendant from the poet's sister. 
 With the exception of an inferior lithograph circu- 
 lated by Green about the year 1820, no further 
 notice of the house appears to have been submitted 
 to the public until 1828, in which year excellent 
 views of it were issued by Rider, and the late E,. B. 
 Wheler, in a manuscript note written about 1830, 
 speaks of the then ' generally believed tradition ' that 
 it was 'the identical one from which Shakespeare 
 married Anne Hathaway,' adding in confirmation 
 that 'the Hathaway's family certainly resided at 
 Shottery at that period.' This latter writer, how- 
 ever, does not mention such a belief in either his 
 
82 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 HistoTy of Stratford, 1809, or in his Guide, 1814, 
 while from a notice of Shottery, compiled from his 
 memoranda and published in 1820, it is obvious 
 that he had personally no faith in its validity," 
 
 The difficulty in settling the question is due to 
 the fact that there were at least three Hathaway 
 families in Shottery at the time of Eichard Hatha- 
 way's death, and it is not easy to disentangle their 
 histories with the help of the parish records and 
 other accessible sources of information. We may 
 infer, however, that, before deciding to pay an exor- 
 bitant price for the house, the trustees of the Birth- 
 place made a careful examination of the evidence in 
 favour of its identity, and came to the conclusion 
 that it was no more doubtful than that of the house 
 in Henley Street. 
 
 Perplexing questions have also arisen concerning 
 the marriage of William and Anne. Just when or 
 where it was solemnized we do not know. There is 
 no record of it in the Stratford registers, and none 
 has been discovered elsewhere. It probably took 
 place early in December, 1582, and in one of the 
 neighbouring parishes, the records of which have 
 been lost. The tradition that Luddington, a few 
 miles from Stratford, was the place, though of com- 
 paratively recent date, is not improbable, as Thomas 
 Hunt, one of Shakespeare's schoolmasters (page 46), 
 was then vicar of that parish. 
 
 The date of the marriage is approximately fixed 
 by a bond authorizing it which is still extant in the 
 
Shakespeare's Marriage 83 
 
 episcopal archives of Worcester, to which diocese 
 Stratford and Shottery belonged. In this bond, 
 dated November 28th, 1582, Fiilk Sandells and 
 John Richardson of Shottery (both of whom are 
 mentioned in Eichard Hathaway's will) bind them- 
 selves in a surety of £40 that " William Shagspere " 
 and "Anne Hathwey" may "lawfully solemnize 
 matrimony together, and in the same afterwardes 
 remaine and continew like man and wiffe, according 
 unto the lawes in that behalf provided ; and, more- 
 over, if there be not at this present time any action, 
 sute, quarrell or demaund moved or depending be- 
 fore any judge, ecclesiasticall or temporall, for and 
 concerning any suche lawfuU lett or impediment; 
 and, moreover, if the said William Shagspere do 
 not proceed to solemnizacion of mariadg with 
 the said Anne Hathwey without the consent of 
 hir frindes; and also if the said William do, 
 upon his owne proper costes and expenses, defend 
 and save harmles the right reverend Father in God, 
 Lord John Bushop of Worcester, and his offycers, 
 for licencing them the said William and Anne to be 
 maried together with once asking of the bannes of 
 matrimony betwene them, and for all other causes 
 which may ensue by reason or occasion therof, that 
 then the said obligacion to be voyd and of none 
 effect, or els to stand and abide in full force and 
 vertue." 
 
 Similar bonds, permitting the marriage ceremony 
 to be expedited while " protecting the clergy from 
 
84 Life of Shakespeare . 
 
 the consequences of any possible breach of canonical 
 law" are found in the diocesan registers of that 
 period; but the wording of this one, according to 
 Sidney Lee, "differs in important respects from 
 that adopted in all other known examples." He 
 adds : " In the case of the marriage of an ' infant ' 
 bridegroom the formal consent of his parents was 
 absolutely essential to strictly regular procedure, 
 although clergymen might be found who were ready 
 to shut their eyes to the facts of the situation and 
 to run the risk of solemnizing the marriage of an 
 'infant' without inquiry as to the parents' con- 
 sent, o . . Despite the circumstances that Shake- 
 speare's bride was of full age and he himself was 
 by nearly three years a minor, the bond stipulated 
 merely for the consent of the bride's ' friends,' and 
 ignored the bridegroom's parents altogether. Nor 
 was this the only irregularity in the document. In 
 other pre-matrimonial covenants of the kind, the 
 name either of the bridegroom himself or of 
 the bridegroom's father figures as one of the two 
 sureties, and is mentioned first of the two. . . . 
 The prominence of the Shottery husbandmen in the 
 negotiations suggests the true position of affairs. 
 Sandells and Eichardson, representing the lady's 
 family, doubtless secured the deed on their own 
 initiative, so that Shakespeare might have small 
 opportunity of evading a step which his intimacy 
 with their friend's daughter had rendered essential 
 to her reputation. The wedding probably took place, 
 
Shakespeare's Marriage 85 
 
 ■without the consent of the bridegroom's parents, — 
 it may be without their knowledge, — soon after the 
 signing of the deed." 
 
 That the bond was given without the consent of 
 Shakespeare's parents is probably true, though it is 
 quite certain that neither John Shakespeare nor 
 William at that time could have furnished the 
 forty pounds required as surety. It was necessary 
 to find other bondsmen, and it was natural that 
 they should be sought among the friends of the 
 Hathaways at Shottery. There is not a particle 
 of evidence that William was disposed to "evade" 
 making honourable amends for the wrong he had 
 done the lady. If he had had any such inclination, 
 he could have run away to London, as Aubrey heard 
 that he did when apprenticed to the butcher. 
 
 Some have thought that the "smart" young 
 woman of twenty-four entrapped the boy of eight- 
 een into this match which, from a worldly point 
 of view, was so imprudent. Lord Campbell says 
 that Anne was " no better than she should be," and 
 De Quincey feels sure that William must have been 
 drawn on by Anne and her family, or at least that 
 his attentions were all too readily accepted. But 
 William Shakespeare at eighteen was not the guile- 
 less country youth that this theory assumes, and he 
 would have disdained to make any such excuse for 
 his conduct. We cannot doubt that he was more 
 to blame for the hurried marriage than Anne 
 Hathaway. 
 
86 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 There are those, however, who believe that no 
 special blame attaches to either of them, and that 
 the bond authorizing the marriage with " once ask- 
 ing of the bans" does not justify us in considering 
 the case either exceptional or exceptionable. They 
 assume that William and Anne had been formally 
 betrothed several months before the marriage ; and 
 they tell us that this "precontract" was legally 
 recognized as equivalent to marriage. It was cer- 
 tainly a legal bar to a subsequent union of either 
 of the parties with another person, unless by their 
 common consent ; and it unquestionably came to be 
 considered, at least among the lower classes, as con- 
 ferring the rights and privileges of the more formal 
 ceremony that was to follow. There may have been 
 such a precontract in this instance. In the absence 
 of any positive evidence to the contrary, it is no 
 more than fair to allow Shakespeare the benefit of 
 the doubt. Those who are not willing to do this 
 assert that the consent of the parents of both parties 
 was necessary to this formal betrothal ; but Halli- 
 well-Phillipps h'as shown that, while this was the 
 rule, it was not without exceptions. He says: 
 "This ceremony was generally a solemn affair 
 enacted with the immediate concurrence of all the 
 parents, but it was at times informally conducted 
 separately by the betrothing parties, evidence of 
 the fact, communicated by them to independent 
 persons, having been held, at least in Warwick- 
 shire, to confer a sufficient legal validity on the 
 
Shakespeare's Marriage 87 
 
 transaction. Thus, in 1585, William Holder and 
 Alice Shaw, having privately made a contract, came 
 voluntarily before two witnesses, one of whom was 
 a person named Willis and the other a John Maides 
 of Snitterfield, on purpose to acknowledge that they 
 were irrevocably pledged to wedlock. The lady evi- 
 dently considered herself already as good as mar- 
 ried, saying to Holder, 'I do confesse that I am 
 your wief and have forsaken all my frendes for 
 your sake, and I hope you will use me well ; ' and 
 thereupon she ' gave him her hand.' Then, as 
 Maides observes, 'the said Holder, mutatis mutan- 
 dis, used the like words unto her in effect, and toke 
 her by the hand, and kissed together in the presence 
 of this deponent and the said Willis.' These pro- 
 ceedings are afterwards referred to in the same 
 depositions as constituting a definite 'contract of 
 marriage.' On another occasion, in 1588, there was 
 a precontract meeting at Alcester, the young lady 
 arriving there unaccompanied by any of her friends. 
 When requested to explain the reason of this omis- 
 sion, ' she answered that her leasure wold not lett 
 her and that she thought she cold not obtaine her 
 mother's goodwill, but, quoth she, neverthelesse I 
 am the same woman that I was before.' The future 
 bridegroom was perfectly satisfied with this assur- 
 ance, merely asking her 'whether she was content 
 to betake herself unto him, and she answered, offring 
 her hand, which he also tooke upon thoffer that she 
 was content by her trothe, and thereto, said she, I 
 
88 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 geve thee my faith, and before these witnesses, that 
 I am thy wief ; and then he likewise answered in 
 theis wordes, vidz., and I geve thee my faith and 
 troth, and become thy husband.' These instances, 
 to which several others could be added, prove deci- 
 sively that Shakespeare could have entered, under 
 any circumstances whatever, into a precontract with 
 Anne Hathaway. It may be worth adding that 
 espousals of this kind were, in the Midland coun- 
 ties, almost invariably terminated by the lady's 
 acceptance of a bent sixpence. One lover, who was 
 betrothed in the same year in which Shakespeare 
 was engaged to Anne Hathaway, gave also a pair 
 of gloves, two oranges, two handkerchiefs and a 
 girdle of broad red silk. A present of gloves on 
 such an occasion was, indeed, nearly as universal 
 as that of a sixpence." 
 
 According to Bishop Watson (Doctrine of the 
 Seven Sacraments, 1558), persons who were be- 
 trothed in this formal way were " perfectly married 
 together," although, as he adds, "the marriage of 
 them in the face of the Church afterward, by the min- 
 istration of the priest, is not superfluous, but much 
 expedient for sundry causes." Even if there had 
 been an informality in the precontract, the offence 
 supposed to have been committed by Shakespeare 
 would have been in itself a condition that rendered 
 the arrangement legally valid (Swinburne's Treatise 
 of Spousals, 1686). 
 
 It will be noticed that in the instances of betrothal 
 
Shakespeare's Marriage 89 
 
 cited by Halliwell-Phillipps the parties call each 
 other "husband" and "wife." Similarly Shake- 
 speare's maternal grandfather, Robert Arden, when 
 settling part of an estate upon his daughter Agnes, 
 July 17th, 1550, refers to her as " nunc uxor Thome 
 Stringer, ac nuper uxor Johannis Hewyns " (now the 
 wife of Thomas Stringer, and lately the wife of 
 John Hewyns), though she was not married to 
 Stringer until three months afterwards, according 
 to the entry in the Beasley register: "1550, 15 
 October, was maryed Thomas Stringer unto Agnes 
 Hwens, wyddow." 
 
 Shakespeare, who has introduced the formal 
 betrothal repeatedly in his plays, similarly makes 
 Olivia call Sebastian " husband " before she is mar- 
 ried to him. In iv. 3, Olivia enters with a Priest, 
 and meets Sebastian, when this dialogue ensues : — 
 
 " Olivia. Blame not this haste of mine. If you mean 
 
 well, 
 Now go with me, and with this holy man. 
 Into the chantry by ; there, before him, 
 And underneath that consecrated roof, 
 Plight me the full assurance of your faith ; 
 That my most jealous and too doubtful soul 
 May live at peace. He shall conceal it, 
 Whiles you are willing it shall come to note, 
 What time we will our celebration keep 
 According to my birth. — What do you say ? 
 
 Sebastian. I '11 follow this good man' and go with you, 
 And, having sworn truth, ever will be true. 
 
go Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Olivia. Then lead the way, good father ; and heavens 
 so shine, 
 That they may fairly note this act of mine ! \_Exeunt." 
 
 Later (v. 1.), when Olivia mistakes the disguised 
 Viola for the man to whom she has been betrothed, 
 and charges the supposed young man with having 
 "beguiled" her, the Priest is called in to bear 
 witness to the ceremony that has taken place : — 
 
 " Olivia. Ah me ! detested ! .how am I beguiled ! 
 
 Viola. Who does beguile you? who does do you 
 wrong? 
 
 Olivia. Hast thou forgot thyself ? Is it so long ? 
 Call forth the holy father ! [Exit an Attendant. 
 
 Duke. [To Viola] Come away. 
 
 Olivia. Whither, my lord ? — Cesario, husband, stay. 
 
 Duke. Husband ? 
 
 Olivia. Ay, husband : can he that deny ? 
 
 Duke. Her husband, sirrah ? 
 
 Viola. No, my lord, not I. 
 
 Olivia. Alas ! it is the baseness of thy fear 
 That makes thee strangle thy propriety. 
 Fear not, Cesario, take thy fortunes up ; 
 Be that thou know'st thou art, and then thou art 
 As great as that thou fear'st. 
 
 Re-enter Attendant with the Priest. 
 
 O, welcome, father ! 
 Father, I charge thee, by thy reverence, 
 Here to unfold — though lately we intended 
 To keep in darkness what occasion now 
 
Shakespeare's Marriage 91 
 
 Reveals before 'tis ripe — what thou dost know 
 Hath newly pass'd between this youth and me. 
 
 Priest. A contract of eternal bond of love, 
 Confirm'd by mutual joinder of your hands, 
 Attested by the holy close of lips, 
 Strengthen'd by interchangement of your rings, 
 And all the ceremony of this compact 
 Seal'd in my function, by my testimony ; 
 Since when, my watch hath told me, toward my grave 
 I have travell'd but two hours." 
 
 Sidney Lee, who denies that the betrothal or 
 "troth-plight" ever "carried with it all the privi- 
 leges of marriage," remarks : " In Measure for Meas- 
 ure Claudio's ofEence is intimacy with the Lady Julia 
 [szc] after the contract of betrothal and before the 
 formality of marriage." It is true that the unright- 
 eous deputy Angelo interprets the ancient law in 
 that way ; but Claudio defends himself thus : — 
 
 " Upon a true contract 
 I got possession of Julietta's bed. 
 You know the lady : she is fast my wife, 
 Save that we do the denunciation lack 
 Of outward order ; this we came not to." 
 
 And later the Duke, disguised as a friar, justifies 
 Mariana in taking the place of Isabella in the noc- 
 turnal visit to Angelo on the ground of the pre- 
 contract between them : — 
 
 " He is your husband on a pre-contract. 
 To bring you thus together, 'tis no sin. 
 
92 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Sith that the justice of your title to him 
 Doth flourish the deceit." 
 
 Karl Elze, after quoting this, says : " On the other 
 hand, in The Winter's Tale (i. 2. 278), Leontes says 
 of his wife that she deserves a name 
 
 ' As rank as any flax-wench that puts to 
 Before her troth -plight.' " 
 
 He either takes the "troth-plight" to mean the 
 marriage, instead of the betrothal, to which it really 
 refers, or he strangely fails to note that the act is 
 supposed to occur " before " the betrothal, not after 
 it, as in the case of Angelo and Mariana. 
 
 To add to the perplexing questions connected 
 with Shakespeare's marriage, an entry has been 
 discovered in the episcopal register at Worcester, 
 according to which a license for the marriage of 
 "William Shakespeare and Anna Whately of Tem- 
 ple Grafton" was issued on the 27th of Novem- 
 ber, 1582, the day before the signing of the 
 Hathaway bond. Certain of the Baconian heretics 
 have argued from this that Anne Hathaway was 
 a widow when Shakespeare married her; but, as 
 Halliwell-Phillipps remarks, the bond is " of course 
 of infinitely higher authority than the entry, and 
 Temple Grafton is not one of the hamlets of Strat- 
 ford," as Shottery is. He believes that " the scribe, 
 through some exceptional accident, must have mis- 
 written " the latter part of the entry. 
 
Shakespeare's Marriage 93 
 
 Sidney Lee, on the other hand, believes that the 
 William Shakespeare of the entry was another of 
 the many persons of that name in the diocese of 
 Worcester. 
 
 Mrs. Stopes suggests yet another explanation: 
 " Travelling was inconvenient on November roads ; 
 Will set off for the license alone, as bridegrooms 
 were often wont to do, when they could afford the 
 expense of a special license. He might give his 
 own name, and that of his intended wife, at a tem- 
 porary address. The clerk made an error in the 
 spelling [of her name], which might have been cor- 
 rected, but meanwhile discovered that Shakespeare 
 was under age, was acting without his parents — that 
 the bride was not in her own home, and that no mar- 
 riage settlement was in the air. No risk might be 
 run by an official in such a case; the license was 
 stayed; sureties must be found for a penalty in 
 case of error. So poor Will would have to find, in 
 post-haste, the nearest friends he could find to trust 
 him and his story. And whom so likely to ask as 
 Fulk Sandells and John Richardson, friends of the 
 Hathaways ? They might have been at Worcester 
 market with him." 
 
 A daughter was born to the young couple before 
 the end of the next May, being baptized with the 
 name Susanna on Sunday, May 26th, 1583 ; and twin 
 children, Hamnet and Judith, less than two years 
 afterwards (baptized February 2d, 1585), or about 
 two months before their father was twenty-one. 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 AT STRATFORD AFTER THE MARRIAGE 
 
 Of Shakespeare's life from the date of his mar- 
 riage to his departure for London nothing is posi- 
 tively known except the facts already mentioned 
 concerning the baptism of his three children; and 
 the most important tradition of the period is that 
 of his poaching in Sir Thomas Lucy's park at 
 Chaiiecote, which is by no means improbable. 
 
 Rowe tells the story thus : " He had, by a mis- 
 fortune common enough to young fellows, fallen 
 into ill company, and, amongst them, some, that 
 made a frequent practice of deer-stealing, engaged 
 him with them more than once in robbing a park 
 that belonged to Sir Thomas Lucy of Charlecote, 
 near Stratford ; — for this he was prosecuted by that 
 gentleman, as he thought, somewhat too severely, 
 and, in order to revenge that ill-usage, he made a 
 ballad upon him; and though this, probably the 
 first essay of his poetry, be lost, yet it is said to 
 have been so very bitter that it redoubled the pros- 
 ecution against him to that degree that he was 
 obliged to leave his business and his family in War- 
 
At Stratford after the Marriage ' 95 
 
 wickshire for some time, and shelter himself in 
 London." 
 
 Another version is given by Archdeacon Davies, 
 according to whom the dramatist was " much given 
 to all unluckiness in stealing venison and rabbits, 
 particularly from Sir Thomas Lucy, who had him 
 oft whipped and sometimes imprisoned, and at last 
 made him fly his native county to his great advance- 
 ment; but his revenge was so great that he is his 
 Justice Clodpate, and calls him a great man, and 
 that in allusion to his name bore three louses ram- 
 pant for his arms." It is evident, therefore, from 
 the independent testimonies of Eowe and Davies, 
 that the deer-stealing story was accepted in the 
 poet's native town and in the neighbourhood during 
 the latter part of the seventeenth century. " That 
 it has a solid basis of fact cannot admit of a reason- 
 able doubt. It was current at a period in the his- 
 tory of Shakespearean appreciation before tales of 
 the kind became liable to intentional falsification, 
 and the impressive story of the penniless fugitive, 
 who afterwards became a leading inhabitant of 
 Stratford and the owner of New Place, was one 
 likely to be handed down with passable fidelity ta 
 the grandchildren of his contemporaries" (Halli- 
 well-Phillipps). 
 
 Some critics have endeavoured to prove that there 
 was no deer-park at Charlecote at that time ; and 
 there may have been none in the legal acceptation 
 of the term. Blackstone says: "It is not every 
 
g6 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 field or common, which a gentleman pleases to sur- 
 round with a wall or paling, and to stock with a 
 herd of deer, that is thereby constituted a legal 
 park." Probably Sir Thomas was the originator of 
 the present deer-park, as he was the originator 
 of the still existing mansion, and started his deer- 
 park in a small way at first. The laying out of 
 deer-parks and making enclosures was a fashion 
 prevailing at the time. Holinshed dwells upon the 
 injurious custom of enclosures and expressly says: 
 "Nobles and gentlemen furnished the same with 
 beasts and sheepe and also deere." It is very likely 
 that Sir Thomas at first had only a warren, into 
 which he gradually introduced deer as well. It 
 will be noted that, according to Davies, Shakespeare 
 stole "venison and rabbits." Besides, Lucy had 
 other estates in the neighbourhood, on some of 
 which he employed game-keepers, and in March, 
 1585, about the date of the alleged poaching, he 
 introduced a bill into Parliament for the better 
 preservation of game, which he would not be likely 
 to have done if he had not been personally in- 
 terested in the matter. Perhaps, as has been 
 suggested, the depredations of Shakespeare and 
 his companions may have been the cause of Sir 
 Thomas's anxiety to have the new law enacted. 
 
 The strongest argument in favour of the tradition 
 is to be based on the evidence furnished by the 
 plays that Shakespeare had a grudge against Sir 
 Thomas, and caricatured him as Justice Shallow 
 
At Stratford after the Marriage 97 
 
 (Davies's "Justice Clodpate") in 2 Henry IV. and 
 The Merry Wives of Windsor. The reference in the 
 latter play to the " dozen white luces " on Shallow's 
 coat of arms is palpably meant to suggest the three 
 luces, or pikes, in the arms of the Lucys. The 
 manner in which the dialogue dwells on the device 
 indicates that some personal satire was intended. 
 
 It should be understood that poaching was then 
 regarded, except by the victims of it, as a venial 
 offence. Sir Philip Sidney's May Lady calls deer- 
 stealing " a prettie service." The students at Oxford 
 were the most notorious poachers in the kingdom, 
 in spite of laws making expulsion from the univer- 
 sity the penalty of detection. Froude says: "No 
 English peasant could be convinced that there was 
 any moral crime in appropriating the wild game. 
 It was an offence against statute law, but no offence 
 against natural law; and it was rather a trial of 
 skill between the noble who sought to monopolize a 
 right which seemed to be common to all, and those 
 who would succeed, if they could, in securing their 
 share of it." Reynolds, who wrote against the thea- 
 tre in 1599, classes the stealing of deer and of fruit 
 together as equal offences. In The Merry Devil 
 of Edmonton (1608) we have a case of poaching, in 
 which even the parson, Sir John, takes part, and 
 which all those who had a hand in it frankly pro- 
 claim a merry, successful joke. In Dodsley it is 
 said of the parson: "the stove priest steals more 
 venison than half the country," Another poaching 
 
98 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 priest, who hunted rabbits on a large scale, we meet 
 with, in A Hundred Merry Tales. In The Hector of 
 Germanie (1615) the page says: "I hold it [my 
 office] not by patent, for term of life, nor for years : 
 but as young gentlemen get venison upon sufferance, 
 or by stealth." 
 
 Apropos of the Oxford students, Dr. Forman 
 tells how two of them in 1573 (one of whom after- 
 wards became Bishop of Worcester) were more given 
 to such pursuits than to study ; and one good man 
 lamented in later life that he had missed the advan- 
 tages that others had derived from these exploits, 
 which he believed to be an excellent discipline for 
 young men. 
 
 We must not assume that Sir Thomas was fairly 
 represented in the character of Justice Shallow. 
 On the contrary, he appears to have been an able 
 man and magistrate, and very genial withal. The 
 Stratford records bear frequent testimony to his 
 judicial services; and his attendance on such occa- 
 sions is generally coupled with a charge for claret 
 and sack or similar beverages. It is rather amusing 
 that these entries occur even when he is sitting in 
 judgment on tipplers. In the records for 1586 we 
 read: "Paid for wine and sugar when Sir Thomas 
 Lucy sat in commission for tipplers, xx.d" 
 
 That he was a good husband we may infer from 
 the long epitaph of his wife in Charlecote Church, 
 which reads thus : " Here intombed lyeth the Lady 
 Joyce Lucy, wife of Sir Thomas Lucy of Charlecot, 
 
At Stratford after the Marriage 99 
 
 in the county of Warwick, knight, daughter and 
 heire of Thomas Acton of Sutton in the county of 
 Worster, esquire, who departed out of this wretched 
 world to her heavenly kingdom the x.th day of 
 February, in the yere of our Lord God, 1595, and of 
 her age Ix. and three : all the tyme of her lyfe a 
 true and faythfull servant of her good God, never 
 detected of any cryme or vice ; in religion moste 
 sounde ; in love to her husband moste faythfull and 
 true; in freindship moste constant; to what in 
 trust was committed unto her moste secret ; in wise- 
 dome excelling; in governing of her howse and 
 bringing up of youth in the feare of God that did 
 convers with her, moste rare and singuler. A great 
 maintayner of hospitality ; greatly esteemed of her 
 betters; misliked of none unles of the envyous. 
 When all is spoken that can be saide, a wooman so 
 furnished and garnished with vertue as not to be 
 bettered, and hardly to be equaled by any. As 
 shee lived moste vertuously, so shee died moste 
 godly. Set downe by him that best did knowe what 
 hath byn written to be true, Thomas LucyeP 
 
 On the other hand, her son-in-law, Edward Aston 
 — who, however, may be a prejudiced witness — 
 says, in a confidential letter to a friend, that her 
 ladyship was a thorough vixen. 
 
 Other traditions represent Shakespeare as given 
 to wild courses at this period of his life, but they 
 are of more recent date, and probably have little or 
 no foundation in fact. The only one of them worth 
 
 L.DfC. 
 
lOO Life of Shakespeare 
 
 mentioning here is that of the " Bidf ord challenge," 
 as it is called. The earliest form of this legend 
 dates back to 1762, when a gentleman who visited 
 Stratford relates that the host of the White Lion 
 Inn took him to Bidford, a neighbouring village, 
 where, to quote his own words, " he shewed me in 
 the hedge a crab-tree called ' Shakespear's Canopy,' 
 because under it our poet slept one night; for he, 
 as well as Ben Johnson, loved a glass for the 
 pleasure of society ; and he, having heard much of 
 the men of that village as deep drinkers and merry 
 fellows, one day went over to Bidford to take a cup 
 with them ; — he enquired of a shepherd for the Bid- 
 ford drinkers, who replied they were absent, but the 
 Bidford sippers were at home, and, I suppose, con- 
 tinued the sheepkeeper, they will be sufficient for 
 you ; and so, indeed, they were ; — he was forced to 
 take up his lodging under that tree for some hours " 
 (British Magazine, June, 1762). 
 
 If there was any truth in the story, this first 
 version doubtless contains it ; but it was afterwards 
 absurdly amplified and embellished by John Jor- 
 dan, a Stratford poet, in a manuscript of about the 
 year 1770, from which the following is an extract : 
 *' There were two companys or f raternitys of Village 
 Yeomanry who used frequently to associate to- 
 gether at Bidford a town pleasantly situate on the 
 banks of the Avon about 7 Miles below Stratford, 
 and Who boasted themselves Superior in the Science 
 of drinking to any set of equal number in the King- 
 
At Stratford after the Marriage loi 
 
 dom and hearing the fame of our Bard it was deter- 
 mined to Challenge him and his Companions to a 
 tryal of their skill which the Stratf ordians accepted 
 and accordingly repaired to Bidford which place 
 agreeable to both parties was to be the Scene of 
 Contendtion. But when Shakespeare and his Com- 
 panions arrived at the destined spot, to their dis- 
 agreeable disapointment they found the Topers 
 were gone to Evesham fair and were told that if 
 they had a mind to try their strenght with the 
 Sippers, they were ther ready for the Contest, 
 Shakespf and his compainions made a Scoff at their 
 Opponents but for want of better Company they 
 agreed to the Contest and in a little time our Bard 
 and his Compainions got so intoUerable intoxicated 
 that they was not able to Contend any longer and 
 acordingly set out on their return to Stratford 
 But had not got above half a mile on the road e'er 
 the found themselves unable to proceed any farther, 
 and was obliged to lie down under a Crabtree which 
 is still growing by the side of the road where they 
 took up their repose till morning when some of the 
 Company roused the poet and intreated him to 
 return to Bidford and renew the Contest he declined 
 it saying I have drank with — 
 
 < Piping Peb worth, Dancing Marston, 
 Haunted Hillborough, and Hungry Grafton, 
 "With Dadging Exhall, Papist Wixford, 
 Beggarly Broom, and Drunken Bidford.' " 
 
I02 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Jordan may have written this doggerel, but cer- 
 tainly Shakespeare never did. The names are those 
 of neighbouring villages. Two other accounts 
 which were printed, respectively, in the Gentleman's 
 Magazine for December, 1794, and in Ireland's 
 Vieivs on the Warwickshire Avon, are known to have 
 been from materials furnished by Jordan. Other 
 versions have been invented more recently. In 
 Brewer's Descriiotion of the County of Warwick 
 (1820), for instance, we are told that " those who 
 repeat the tradition in the neighbourhood of Strat- 
 ford invariably assert that the whole party slept 
 undisturbed from Saturday night till the following 
 Monday morning, when, they were roused by work- 
 men going to their labour." According to an 
 improved version of this form of the anecdote, so 
 completely had the previous day been effaced from 
 the sleeper's memory that, when he woke up, he 
 rebuked a field labourer in the vicinity for his 
 desecration of the Sabbath. 
 
 Professor Baynes, commenting on this period in 
 the life of the dramatist, says : " In its modern form 
 the story of the Bidford challenge exploit may 
 indeed be little better than a myth. But in sub- 
 stance it is by no means incredible, and if we knew 
 all about the incident we should probably find there 
 were other points to be tested between the rival 
 companies besides strength of head to resist the 
 effects of the well-known Bidford beer. The prompt 
 refusal to return with his companions and renew the 
 
At Stratford after the Marriage 103 
 
 contest on the following day, — a decision playfully 
 expressed and emphasized in the well-known dog- 
 gerel lines, — implies that in Shakespeare's view 
 such forms of good fellowship were to be accepted 
 on social not self-indulgent grounds, that they were 
 not to be resorted to for the sake of the lower 
 accessories only, or allowed to grow into evil habits 
 from being unduly repeated or prolonged. It is 
 clear that this general principle of recreative and 
 adventurous enterprise, announced more than once 
 in his writings, guided his own conduct even in the 
 excitable and impulsive season of youth and early 
 manhood. If he let himself go, as he no doubt 
 sometimes did, it was only as a good rider on com- 
 ing to the turf gives the horse his head in order to 
 enjoy the exhilaration of a gallop, having the bridle 
 well in hand the while, and able to rein in the ex- 
 cited steed at a moment's notice. It may be said 
 of Shakespeare at such seasons, as of his own 
 Prince Hal, that he — 
 
 ' Obscured his contemplation 
 Under the veil of wildness ; which, no doubt, 
 Grew like the summer grass, fastest by night, 
 Unseen, yet crescive in his faculty.' " 
 
 The same writer suggests that Sir Thomas Lucy 
 may have been prejudiced against the Shakespeares 
 on religious grounds, and that this feeling may have 
 prompted him to a display of exceptional severity 
 
T04 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 against their eldest son. He was an extreme and 
 bigoted Protestant, and his bitterness against the 
 Eomanists had lately been intensified by the con- 
 spiracy of the Ardens of Park Hall against the 
 queen's life. John Somerville, the son of Edward 
 Arden, instigated by the family priest, had started 
 for London with the purpose of assassinating Eliza- 
 beth with his own hand, but was arrested on the 
 way and conveyed to the Tower, where, under 
 threat of torture, he made a confession, implicating 
 his father-in-law and the priest. All three were 
 tried and convicted. Somerville committed suicide, 
 and Edward Arden was hanged. These events made 
 a deep impression in Warwickshire, and no one 
 would be more excited by them than Lucy. His 
 vindictive feeling against the Komanists led him 
 a little later to bring forward a motion in Parlia- 
 ment in favour of devising some new and lingering 
 tortures for the execution of the Romanist conspir- 
 ator Parry. As Mr. Froude puts it, "Sir Thomas 
 Lucy, — Shakespeare's Lucy, the original perhaps 
 of Justice Shallow, with an English fierceness at 
 the bottom of his stupid nature, — having stud- 
 ied the details of the execution of Gerard, pro- 
 posed in the House of Commons 'that some new 
 law should be devised for Parry's execution, such 
 as might be thought fittest for his extraordinary 
 and horrible treason.' " The Ardens were devoted 
 E-omanists ; the terrible calamity that had befallen 
 the family occurred only a short time before the 
 
At Stratford after the Marriage 105 
 
 deer-stealing adventure ; and the Shakespeares them- 
 selves, so far from being Puritans, were suspected 
 by many of being but indifferent Protestants. John 
 Shakespeare was an irregular attendant at church, 
 and soon ceased to appear there at all, so that Sir 
 Thomas Lucy probably regarded him as little better 
 than a recusant. "In any case Sir Thomas would 
 be likely to resent the elder Shakespeare's convivial 
 turn and profuse hospitality as alderman and bail- 
 iff, and especially his official patronage of the play- 
 ers and active encouragement of their dramatic 
 representations in the Guild hall. The Puritans 
 had a rooted antipathy to the stage, and to the 
 jaundiced eye of the local justice the reverses of 
 the Shakespeares would probably appear as a judg- 
 ment on their way of life. He would all the more 
 eagerly seize any chance of humiliating their eldest 
 son, who still held up his head and dared to look 
 upon life as a scene of cheerful activity and occa- 
 sional enjoyment. The young poet, indeed, em- 
 bodied the very characteristics most opposed to Sir 
 Thomas's dark and narrow conceptions of life and 
 duty. His notions of public duty were very much 
 restricted to persecuting the Eomanists and preserv- 
 ing the game on Protestant estates. And Shake- 
 speare probably took no pains to conceal his want 
 of sympathy with these supreme objects of aristo- 
 cratic and Puritanical zeal. And Sir Thomas, 
 having at length caught him, as he imagined, in 
 a technical trespass, would be sure to pursue the 
 
io6 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 culprit with the unrelenting rigour of his hard and 
 gloomy nature." 
 
 Mrs. Stopes, who has no faith in the deer-stealing 
 tradition, suggests that " it is much more than likely 
 that Shakespeare was concerned in the religious tur- 
 moil of the time, was somewhat suspected, and was 
 indignant at the cruel treatment of Edward Arden ; " 
 and that this, rather than any fear of persecution 
 by Lucy for poaching, may have had something to 
 do with his leaving Warwickshire. 
 
 It is a curious fact that a copy of the 1619 quarto 
 edition of The Merry Wives of Windsor was discov- 
 ered a few years ago among the family records at 
 Charlecote Hall — the only copy of any one of 
 Shakespeare's plays in the early editions found 
 there. Dowden, referring to this, says : " If it is 
 any satisfaction to us we have some reason to 
 believe that the barb prepared for Sir Thomas Lucy 
 struck home, and that the family did not forget the 
 mockery of their old coat ; " but as Sir Thomas died 
 in 1600, he could not himself have bought or seen 
 this edition of 1619, nor even the first edition, 
 which did not appear until 1602. He may, how- 
 ever, have heard of the play and of Justice Shallow 
 before his death, as it was probably written as early 
 as 1599. The title-page of the first quarto tells us 
 that it had been " divers times acted by the Eight 
 Honourable the Lord Chamberlaines servants both 
 before her Majestic and elsewhere." 
 
 How William managed to support his family at 
 
At Stratford after the Marriage 107 
 
 this time we have no means of knowing. It is 
 improbable that he set up housekeeping for him- 
 self, and it is equally improbable that he made his 
 home at Henley Street. His father's fortunes were 
 declining, and there were four younger children to 
 be taken care of: Gilbert, baptized October 13th, 
 1566; Joan, April loth, 1569; Eichard, March 11th, 
 1573-4; and Edmund, May 3d, 1580. Anne, bap- 
 tized September 28th, 1571, had died in the spring 
 of 1579, the record of her burial being dated April 
 4th in that year. Some have suggested that Will- 
 iam and his family lived with the Hathaways at 
 Shottery, and that Anne and her children remained 
 there when the young man went to seek his fortune 
 in London. Her widowed mother may have been 
 glad to have her daughter and grandchildren with 
 her in the large and comfortable house left to her 
 by her husband's will ; for that document, after cer- 
 tain bequests to his children and others, concludes 
 thus : " This bequeast donne, debts paide, and lega- 
 cies leavied, and my bodye honestlie buried, then 
 I gyve and bequeathe all the rest of my goodes, 
 moveable and unmoveable, unto Joane, my wief, 
 whome I make my sole executrixe to see this my 
 last will and testament trulye performed." The 
 house, though long known as a "cottage," was 
 really "a substantial thatched farmhouse of the 
 Elizabethan period" (Halliwell-Phillipps). In the 
 latter part of the eighteenth century it was con- 
 verted into two tenements, and later into three. 
 
io8 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 John Shakespeare's bad luck appears to have 
 begun some time after he bought the houses in 
 1575 for £40. He must then have been prosperous, 
 with money to invest in real estate. We learn 
 nothing about his affairs in 1576 and 1577, but 
 early in 1578 his circumstances were less flourish- 
 ing. The town council on the 29th of January in 
 that year made a levy on the people for the pur- 
 chase of military accoutrements. It was agreed that 
 "every alderman, except suche under-wrytten ex- 
 cepted, shall paye " 6s. 8d. ; but two aldermen, " Mr. 
 Plumley" and "Mr. Shaxpeare," were excepted, 
 the former paying only 55. and the latter only 
 3s. Ad. The will of Roger Sadler, a baker of Strat- 
 ford, in November, 1578, mentions a "debte of Mr. 
 John Shaksper " for £5. On the 19th of the same 
 month, it was ordered by the town council that 
 "every alderman shall paye weekely towardes the 
 releif of the poore iiij.d. savinge Mr. John Shax- 
 peare and Mr. Robert Bratt, who shall not be taxed 
 to pay anythinge." The estate of Asbies was lost 
 forever to John and Mary Shakespeare in that same 
 month of November, when they mortgaged it to 
 Edward Lambert as security for a loan of £40. 
 This transaction occurred only five days before the 
 vote in the town council just mentioned, the mort- 
 gage having been effected on the 14th. 
 
 On the 11th of March, 1579, when another tax 
 was levied " for the purchase of armour and defen- 
 sive weapons," John Shakespeare is recorded among 
 
At Stratford after the Marriage 109 
 
 the defaulters, being unable to pay his 85, 4d On 
 the 15th of October, in that year, John and his 
 wife disposed of their interests in Snitterfield for 
 £4. This interest "consisted of a share in a 
 considerable landed estate that had belonged to 
 the poet's maternal grandfather, — a share to which 
 John and Mary Shakespeare would have become 
 absolutely entitled upon the death of Agnes Arden, 
 who was described as 'aged and impotent' in the 
 July of the following year, 1580, and who died a 
 few months afterwards, her burial at Aston Cant- 
 lowe having taken place on the 29th of December. 
 In her will, that of a substantial lady farmer of the 
 period, there is no direct mention of the Shake- 
 speares." 
 
 For the years 1581-1584, nothing of importance 
 concerning John Shakespeare appears in the town 
 records except the fact of his absence from all the 
 meetings of the town council at which the attend- 
 ances are registered. In 1585 he continues to ab- 
 sent himself from the meetings, and during that 
 year three suits against him for debt are recorded. 
 In 1586 there were further suits of the same kind ; 
 but he served on juries in May and July, and in 
 the latter month he went to Coventry to become 
 bail with Thomas Jones for the due appearance of 
 Michael Pryce, who was indicted for felony. In the 
 record at that time he is called " Johannes Shake- 
 spere, . . . glover." 
 
 On the 6th of September, 1586, there was an 
 
no Life of Shakespeare 
 
 ■^'eleceion of newe aldermen," and "at thys halle 
 William Smythe and Richard Courte are chosen to 
 be aldermen in the places of John Wheler and John 
 Shaxspere, for that Mr. Wheler dothe desyre to be 
 put owt of the companye, and Mr. Shaxspere dothe 
 not come to the halles when they be warned, nor 
 hathe not done of longe tyme." 
 
 In the early part of the next year (1587) John 
 Shakespeare was tormented by an action that had 
 been brought against him in the Court of Eecord by 
 Nicholas Lane, who averred that, in a conference 
 they had held in the previous June, John had made 
 himself responsible for £10 in the event, subse- 
 quently realized, of his brother Henry's not paying 
 that sum on Michaelmas Day, 1586, being part of a 
 debt of £22 that was owing to Lane. Judgment 
 was no doubt given in favour of the plaintiff, the 
 suit having been removed by certiorari at the in- 
 stance of the defendant. The legal papers are in 
 Latin, and John's name appears in them as Shak- 
 spere, Shaksper, Shacksper, Shaxpere, Schackspere, 
 and Shakesper. 
 
 In 1588 and 1589 his name appears in connection 
 with certain suits, sometimes as plaintiff. In the 
 autumn of 1589 he brought an action against Lam- 
 bert concerning an arrangement that had been made 
 for the surrender of Asbies, and from his bill of 
 complaints we learn that he was still engaged in 
 commercial speculations; but the litigation seems 
 to have been abandoned. In 1591 he was defend- 
 
At Stratford after the Marriage iii 
 
 ant in several suits ; and on the 16th of December 
 he served on a jury in the Court of Kecord, 
 
 In 1592 he was appraiser of the estates of two 
 deceased persons. In that year Lucy and other 
 commissioners prepared lists of the recusants of 
 Warwickshire. Among those found who had been 
 " hearetof ore presented," at Stratf ord-on-Avon, " for 
 not comminge monethlie to the Churche according 
 to hir Majesties lawes," were "Mr. John Shack- 
 spere " and eight others ; but the record states : 
 "It is sayd that these laste nine coom not to 
 Churche for feare of processe for debttee." In the 
 paper from which the commissioners obtained their 
 information the words are: "Wee suspect these 
 nyne persons next ensuinge absent themselves for 
 feare of processes." They are named, "Mr. John 
 Shackspeare" among them. Then they were not 
 recusants — persons who refused to conform to the 
 established rites of the Church — but debtors. 
 
 Mrs. Stopes thinks "it is quite possible" that 
 this reference is to John Shakespeare, the shoe- 
 maker, who has sometimes been confounded with 
 John, the glover, but who is not called " Mr." else- 
 where in the town records. But as the shoemaker 
 had been Master of the Shoemakers' Company, he 
 ^^ might have been called 'Mr.'" in this instance. 
 Halliwell-Phillipps and others have no doubt that 
 our friend of Henley Street is the person. 
 
 In 1593 there were two suits against " Johannem 
 Shaxpere;" and in 1595 another against "Philip- 
 
1 12 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 pum Grene, chaundeler, Henricum Eogers, butcher, 
 et Johannem Shaxpere." With respect to this last 
 suit Halliwell-Phillipps remarks: "The somewhat 
 peculiar form of this entry, John Shakespeare be- 
 ing the only one of three defendants whose name is 
 given without the addition of a trade, seems to be 
 an indication that he was at that time out of busi- 
 ness; and that he did not indulge, during the 
 remainder of his life, in his former love for specula- 
 tion may perhaps be gathered from the circum- 
 stance of the present being his last appearance in 
 the register of the Court of Eecord. It is impossible 
 to ascertain the exact history of the suit, none of 
 the pleas or declarations having been preserved, but 
 there being no notice of him in the entries of the 
 proceedings after its commencement on 19 March, 
 Quiney and Barber [the plaintiffs] continuing the 
 litigation against the other two parties only, it is 
 clear that he was released in some way or other 
 from further liability in the matter." 
 
 By this time, as we shall see further on, the 
 poet was doing so well in London that he could help 
 his father in supporting his family and in extricat- 
 ing himself from his pecuniary embarrassments. 
 
 What were the causes that led to the continued 
 decline of John Shakespeare's prosperity we do not 
 know ; but it was probably due to the general de- 
 pression in business that seems to have affected 
 Stratford at that time. It had become so serious 
 by 1590 that the bailiffs and burgesses addressed a 
 
At Stratford after the Marriage 113 
 
 petition to the Lord Treasurer Burghley in which 
 they state that the town had fallen "into much 
 decay for want of such trade as heretofore they 
 had by clothing and making of yarn, employing 
 and maintaining a number of poor people by the 
 same, which now live in great penury and misery, 
 by reason they are not set to work as before they 
 have been." Special mention is also made of the 
 decline in the wool trade, which was naturally 
 affected by this depression in the manufacture of 
 clothing and yarn and in which John Shakespeare, 
 as we know, was largely interested. 
 
 Professor Baynes, who does not appear to be 
 aware of these facts, believes that John's bad luck in 
 business was due to a " defect of character," a lack 
 of "adequate care and foresight" in his dealings 
 and calculating. He seems, in the opinion of this 
 critic, "to have possessed the eager sanguine tem- 
 perament which, absorbed in the immediate object 
 of pursuit, overlooks difficulties and neglects the 
 wider considerations on which lasting success de- 
 pends. Even in his early years at Stratford there 
 are signs of this ardent, impatient, somewhat un- 
 heedful temper. He is not only active and push- 
 ing, but too restless and excitable to pay proper 
 attention to necessary details, or discharge with 
 punctuality the minor duties of his position. . . . 
 In the years 1556-57 he allowed himself to be sued 
 in the bailiff's court for comparatively small debts. 
 This could not have arisen from any want of means, 
 
114 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 as during the same period, in October, 1556, he 
 made the purchase already referred to of two 
 houses with extensive gardens. The actions for 
 debt must therefore have been the result of negli- 
 gence or temper on John Shakespeare's part, and 
 either alternative tells almost equally against his 
 habits of business coolness and regularity. Another 
 illustration of his restless, ill-considered, and un- 
 balanced energy may be found in the number and 
 variety of occupations which he seems to have 
 added to his early trade of glover and leather-dealer. 
 As his prospects improved he appears to have seized 
 on fresh branches of business, until he had in- 
 cluded within his grasp the whole circle of agricul- 
 tural products that could in any way be brought to 
 market. It would seem also that he added farm- 
 ing, to a not inconsiderable extent, to his expanding 
 retail business in Stratford. But it is equally clear 
 that he lacked the orderly method, the comprehen- 
 sive outlook, and the vigilant care for details essen- 
 tial for holding well in hand the threads of so 
 complicated a commercial web." 
 
 That John was ambitious cannot be doubted, and 
 this may have led him to undertake a larger busi- 
 ness on his limited capital than was prudent, in view 
 of the possibility of such a period of depression in 
 trade as actually occurred a few years later. But 
 we have no reason to suppose that he undertook so 
 great a " number and variety of occupations " as Pro- 
 fessor Baynes assumes, covering "the whole circle 
 
At Stratford after the Marriage 115 
 
 of agricultural products" and including "farming 
 to a not inconsiderable extent." He simply added 
 to liis trade as a glover the dealing in leather 
 and other articles made of leather, and the sale of 
 wool and perhaps other products brought to mar- 
 ket by the neighbouring farmers. There is not a 
 shadow of evidence that he himself engaged in 
 farming after he came to Stratford. Had he been 
 the unbalanced and careless man of business de- 
 scribed in the passage quoted above, he could never 
 have been successful and prosperous, as he was for 
 more than twenty years. In 1556, before his mar- 
 riage, he had already made money enough in trade 
 to enable him to buy two houses, and in 1575 he 
 could afford to increase his investments in real 
 estate. 
 
 During all his troubles, from 1578 onward, he was 
 not compelled to part with the Henley Street prop- 
 erty or to mortgage any portion of it. In 1597, to 
 oblige his neighbour, John Badger, he sold a narrow 
 strip of land (a foot and a half wide) on the west- 
 ern side of that estate, receiving £2, 10s. in pay- 
 ment. He also sold a piece, 17 feet square, in the 
 garden, behind the wool-shop, to oblige Edward 
 Willis, his neighbour on the other side. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 SHAKESPEARE GOES TO LONDON 
 
 The date of Shakespeare's leaving Stratford for 
 London cannot be definitely fixed. The poaching 
 adventure is supposed to have occurred in the early 
 part of 1585, and if the consequences of that act 
 drove him from Warwickshire it was probably in the 
 autumn of that year. The birth of the twins in Jan- 
 uary, 1585, and the difficulty he must have had in 
 supporting his increasing family, are also in favour 
 of that date. It was in that year, moreover, that 
 he became of age, which may have induced him to 
 take this serious step in the hope of bettering his 
 circumstances. 
 
 If he did not make the move in the latter part of 
 1585, it was probably in the spring of 1586. The 
 biographers generally agree upon 1585 or 1586 as 
 the year, but a few believe that it was 1587. 
 
 The journey was a more serious undertaking than 
 it is now, when a fast train takes us over the route 
 in four hours or so. Four days would have been 
 good average time then. The facilities for travel- 
 ling in the reign of good Queen Bess were poor 
 
 116 
 
Shakespeare Goes to London 117 
 
 enough. Public coaches did. not begin to run — if 
 the speed of any vehicle could be called running at 
 that time — until about half a century later. E-oad- 
 making as an art was unknown. There were, 
 indeed, what professed to be highways between the 
 principal towns, but they were badly constructed 
 and seldom repaired — merely deep-rutted tracks, 
 almost or quite impassable in wet weather. The 
 country was still generally unenclosed, and when 
 the ruts became too deep for endurance, a fresh 
 track was struck out beside the old one. These 
 roads, for the most part, made themselves, rather 
 than were made, and often became like shallow 
 ditches, the middle being lower than the sides. 
 
 The bridges, as a rule, were better than the roads. 
 Some of them had been built by pious priests in 
 earlier times, and were substantial sti;uctures of 
 stone, but they were narrow and steep, except over 
 shallow streams of considerable breadth, where they 
 were flat, with many arches, and often had houses 
 upon them, like London Bridge. Sir Hugh Clopton's 
 bridge across the Avon at Stratford is a fine spec- 
 imen of these old bridges, and it still does good 
 service. Foot-bridges were sometimes only a single 
 wooden beam with cross-pieces nailed to it ; and 
 these were also used more or less by horsemen. 
 Edgar in Lear (iv. 3. 57) tells how the foul fiend 
 made him " proud of heart to ride on a bay trotting- 
 horse over four-inch bridges." 
 
 The hostelries or inns at the principal points 
 
1 1 8 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 along the great thoroughfares were large and fine. 
 Harrison tells us that some of them could accom- 
 modate three hundred guests, and were even supe- 
 rior to those in the metropolis. He says : " Of all 
 in England there are no worse inns than in London, 
 and yet many are there far better than the best 
 that I have heard of in any foreign country, if all 
 circumstances be duly considered." 
 
 The v^icles were in keeping with the roads. 
 Carriers' carts, long covered wagons, conveyed pas- 
 sengers from place to place; but a writer of the 
 times says that this kind of journeying was so 
 slow and tedious that it was used only by women 
 and people of inferior condition. For the most 
 part men travelled on foot or on horseback, luggage 
 and goods being carried by pack-horses. Coaches 
 are said to have been introduced by Booman, Queen 
 Elizabeth'^ own coachman ; but they were little 
 better than carts without springs, the body of the 
 vehicle resting directly on the axles. In 1568, 
 when the Queen gave an audience to the French 
 ambassador, she described to him " the aching pains 
 she was suffering in consequence of having been 
 knocked about in a coach which had been driven a 
 little too fast a few days before." At that time, as 
 Professor Hales remarks, "the fact was that the 
 roads could not bear the coaches, and the coaches 
 could not bear the roads; so there was but little 
 traffic in that way." 
 
 We can get some idea of the condition of the 
 
 A 
 
Shakespeare Goes to London 119 
 
 roads sixty or seventy years later from the fact 
 that eight hundred horses were once taken by Crom- 
 well's forces while sticking in the mnd. In 1640 
 the road from London to Dover was the best in 
 England, owing to the large Continental travel, but 
 it took four days to traverse the sixty-six miles. 
 A trip by wagon or stage-coach from London to 
 Liverpool, about two hundred miles, took ten days 
 in summer and twelve in winter. 
 
 The perils from highwaymen were worse than the 
 discomforts from bad roads. It was not safe to 
 travel alone or unarmed. Harrison says that trav- 
 ellers carry staves twelve or thirteen feet long, with 
 a twelve-inch pike at the end ; and, since the rob- 
 bers are often similarly armed, he adds that it is 
 well to carry pistols also, " whereby he may deal 
 with them further off in his own defence before he 
 come within the danger of these weapons." He 
 also tells us that the chamberlains, tapsters, and 
 hostlers of the inns are often in league with the 
 robbers; as we learn also from Shakespeare in 
 1 Henry IV. (ii. 1). Gadshill says to the Chamber- 
 lain in the inn at Eochester: "thou variest no more 
 from picking of purses than giving direction doth 
 from labouring; thou layest the plot how;" and 
 the Chamberlain tells Gadshill about the guests in 
 the house who have money and goods, and are soon 
 to start on their journey — the same who are after- 
 wards waylaid by Falstaff and the rest. Harrison 
 adds that these highwaymen are apt to come to 
 
I20 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 the gallows, or, as he expresses it, "to be trussed 
 up in a Tyburn tippet, which happeneth unto them 
 commonly before they come to middle age." 
 
 No wonder that travelling was little in vogue 
 except under the pressure of dire necessity. A 
 rhymer of the day says : — 
 
 " A citizen, for recreation sake, 
 To see the country would a journey take 
 Some dozen miles, or very little more, 
 Taking his leave with friends two months before. 
 With drinking healths and shaking by the hand, 
 As he had travelled to some new-found land." 
 
 There were two main routes between Stratford 
 and London : one by Oxford, the other by Banbury 
 and Aylesbury. There is reason to believe that 
 Shakespeare, in his yearly visits to his native town 
 during his residence in London, used both routes, 
 but it is probable that he ordinarily took the Oxford 
 road. 
 
 On his first journey to London very likely he 
 went on foot, as most people did who could not 
 afford to have a horse. If they did not expect to 
 return very soon, they often bought a horse, which 
 they sold on reaching their destination. Possibly 
 our young adventurer did this, but, having, as we 
 may suppose, little money to risk in an uncertain 
 investment in horse-flesh, he may have preferred to 
 foot it. 
 
 Professor Hales, in an interesting paper on Shake- 
 
Shakespeare Goes to London 121 
 
 speare's routes to and from London {CovnMll Maga- 
 zine, January, 1877), supposes the journey divided 
 into four daily stages. The first, of twenty miles, 
 was to Chipping Norton, a pleasant ride nowadays 
 over a beautiful undulating country, a considerable 
 portion of which is in Warwickshire. At a point 
 six miles from Stratford, where the road branches, 
 there is now a sign-post with this poetic inscrip- 
 tion : — 
 
 " Six miles to Shakspere's town whose name 
 Is known throughout the earth ; 
 To Shipton four, whose lesser fame 
 Boasts no such poet's birth." 
 
 Little did the young man dream, as he plodded 
 past this point on the road, that his native place 
 would come to be memorable as " Shakspere's 
 town," or that his name and fame would ever be 
 known throughout the earth. 
 
 The Shipton of the guide-post was the only town 
 worthy of the name through which he would pass 
 during the day. It is now a quiet place, as it must 
 have been then, though in stage-coach times lively 
 enough as a station for changing horses and staying 
 over night. 
 
 Chipping Norton, where Shakespeare would spend 
 the night, was then, as long before, an important 
 market-town, with many inns and a fine old church, 
 which has probably changed very little since the 
 sixteenth century. 
 
122 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 The next day Shakespeare would plod on or jog 
 on twenty miles further to Oxford. That was a 
 fair day's journey even on horseback. When Mary 
 Queen of Scots was removed from Bolton Castle 
 to Eipon, on her way south, the ride of sixteen 
 miles took from early morning to late in the even- 
 ing of a January day ; but the roads were doubtless 
 in worse condition in the winter than they would 
 have been at the time of year when Shakespeare is 
 likely to have travelled. The most interesting 
 point on this day's journey would be the ancient 
 town of Woodstock, associated with the memory of 
 Fair Rosamond and of Chaucer. Critical research 
 had not then disparaged the traditions concerning 
 the lady or the poet, and Shakespeare could have 
 had no doubts concerning the connection of either 
 with the locality. 
 
 Woodstock had also associations with his own 
 time. The palace had been one of the places where 
 Elizabeth was confined during her sister's reign. 
 It was here that she envied the happy lot of 
 the milkmaid whom she heard singing; and here 
 she wrote on the shutter of her chamber these 
 verses : — 
 
 " O Fortune, how thy restless wavering state 
 Hath fraught with cares my troubled wit ! 
 Witness this present prison whither fate 
 Could bear me, and the joys I quit. 
 Thou caused' st the guilty to be loosed 
 From bands wherein are innocents enclosed; 
 
Shakespeare Goes to London 123 
 
 Causing me guiltless to be straight reserved, 
 And freeing those that death had well deserved. 
 But by her envy can be nothing wrought ; 
 So God send to my foes all they have sought ! 
 
 Elizabeth, Prisoner. 
 A. D. 1555." 
 
 These verses were written only about thirty years 
 before Shakespeare passed through Woodstock, and 
 he may have perused them if he visited the old 
 palace, which was seldom occupied as a royal resi- 
 dence then or during the reign of the Stuarts. 
 
 At Oxford, according to tradition, Shakespeare, 
 on his journeys to and from London, used to lodge 
 at the Crown Inn, kept by John Davenant, father of 
 Sir William Davenant, who was a godson of the 
 poet. It was asserted later that Sir William was 
 more than a poetical son of Shakespeare, and Sir 
 William himself was inclined to favour the story ; 
 but Halliwell-Phillipps, after elaborate investiga- 
 tion, decided that there was no ground for the 
 imputation that the comely wife of John Davenant 
 was unfaithful to her liege lord. 
 
 In this first visit to Oxford, however, it is im- 
 probable that Shakespeare put up at the Crown, 
 which was then the best hostelrie in the city. 
 Some humbler inn was doubtless his resting-place 
 after the day's journey. 
 
 The next day he probably went on twenty-five 
 miles further to High Wycombe, this being the com- 
 mon route from Oxford on the way to London ; and 
 
124 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 another stretch of twenty-nine miles on the fourth 
 day would bring him to the metropolis. The roads 
 would be somewhat better in the vicinity of the 
 great city, and he could therefore make more rapid 
 progress than on the first two days. On these latter 
 stages of the journey he would pass through no 
 large towns or scenes of special historical or other 
 interest, though we cannot imagine the ride or walk 
 to have been dull or monotonous to a young man 
 with the keen eyes and alert intelligence of 
 Shakespeare. 
 
 To the English people of that day London seemed 
 one of the wonders of the world ; as indeed it was, 
 though surpassed in some respects by Paris and by 
 Venice, then in the height of its power and splen- 
 dour. Drayton, in the Pohj-Olbion, says of it : — 
 
 " O more than mortal man that did this town begin, 
 Whose knowledge found the plot so fit to set it in, 
 As in the fittest place by man that could be thought, 
 To which by sea or land provisions could be brought ! 
 And such a road for ships scarce all the world commands 
 As is the goodly Thames, near where Brute's city stands." 
 
 It is hardly necessary to state that the "Brute" 
 here is no Eoman famous in history, but " Brutus 
 of Troy," who, according to the mythical annals of 
 Britain, as recorded in the old romances and chron- 
 icles, was the grandson of ^neas, and the founder 
 of New Troy, or London. He is mentioned, as the 
 reader may remember, in Milton's Comus, in connec- 
 
Shakespeare Goes to London 125 
 
 tion with the story of Sabrina, which is a part of 
 the same legendary history. 
 
 London was still surrounded by its ancient walls, 
 though portions of these were somewhat dilapidated. 
 The gates were conspicuous structures, and were 
 still guarded and closed at night, as they continued 
 to be until 1760. The population, then about three 
 hundred thousand, was mainly within the walls, 
 though beginning to spread beyond them, especially 
 in the neighbourhood of some of the gates. The 
 city was crowded with houses, but open spaces 
 existed here and there, and many large gardens. 
 The Temple Gardens, where Plantagenet plucked 
 the white rose and Somerset the red (1 Henry VI. 
 ii. 4), still remain, though somewhat contracted in 
 area and more built upon than at that time. The 
 Strand, the road from Temple Bar to Westminster, 
 which was then an independent city, had only a few 
 houses on the northern side, but on the south was 
 adorned with noble mansions, with lawns and gar- 
 dens extending to the river. John Gerard, whose 
 Herball was published in 1597, and who had a large 
 garden (probably attached to his house in Holborn) 
 to" which he often refers in his bcok, afterwards had 
 another of two acres leased to him by Queen Anne, 
 the consort of James I. This garden adjoined her 
 mansion, Somerset House, also called " Strond 
 House," which was on the bank of the river. 
 
 Apropos of gardens, there was one of forty acres 
 attached to Ely House in Holborn, the palace of the 
 
12,6 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Bishop of Ely. In Richard III. (iii. 4, 38), just 
 before ordering the execution of Hastings, Eichard 
 says to the Bishop : — 
 
 " When I was last in Holborn, 
 I saw good strawberries in your garden there. 
 I do beseech you send for some of them " — 
 
 which the Bishop does; and no doubt Eichard 
 enjoyed them heartily at his dinner, which he 
 swears that he will not eat until he sees the decapi- 
 tated head of Hastings. The suburb of Holborn 
 was then chiefly occupied by gardens. In other 
 directions outside the walls were many fine man- 
 sions with extensive gardens and pleasure-grounds, 
 together with scattered hamlets, fields, and forests. 
 Crossing the Thames by London Bridge, then the 
 only one over the river, we come to the village of 
 Southwark, with the grand old church of St. Sa- 
 viour's, the palace, the prison, the theatres, and the 
 Tabard Inn, whence Chaucer's pilgrims started on 
 their journey to Canterbury. Here Shakespeare 
 lived for years ; and here was the Falcon Tavern, 
 the haunt of wits and players and poets. Here, too, 
 was Paris Garden, with its bears, among them the 
 famous Sackerson which Slender told Anne Page 
 (Merry Wives, i. 1. 307) he had seen loose and had 
 taken him by the chain ! And here was the Globe 
 Theatre, forever renowned among the playhouses of 
 the Bankside as the one particularly associated with 
 
Shakespeare Goes to London 127 
 
 Shakespeare, though not built until some years after 
 he first came to London. 
 
 But space would fail for referring to the many 
 localities in and about the metropolis that were con- 
 nected with Shakespeare or are mentioned by him 
 in the plays : — to Eastcheap, where Falstaff and 
 Prince Hal haunted the Boar's Head; to the cathe- 
 dral of Old St. Paul's, the nave of which had be- 
 come the resort of idlers and a place of merchandise, 
 where Palstaff says he bought (hired) Bardolph ; to 
 Bucklersbury, a street on the right of Cheapside, 
 where druggists abounded, fragrant with medicinal 
 herbs, to which fat Jack alludes when he speaks of 
 the dudes of the day smelling "like Bucklersbury 
 in simple time" (herb-gathering time); to Pickt- 
 hatch and TurnbuU Street, of less fragrant memory, 
 the resorts of disreputable women; and to many 
 buildings and localities of historical importance, 
 churches, palaces, prisons, etc., very few of which 
 have survived the lapse of centuries. The Middle 
 Temple Hall still stands, unchanged in its interior 
 since Elizabeth danced there and Tiuelfth Night was 
 acted beneath its timbered roof; and Gray's Inn, 
 where the Comedy of Errors was performed — the 
 only two buildings in London, where plays of Shake- 
 speare were thus acted in his lifetime. Crosby Hall, 
 the residence of Eichard III. when he was Duke of 
 Gloster, and later of Sir Thomas More, as also 
 of "Sidney's sister, Pembroke's mother," likewise 
 remains in Bishopgate Street, now a noted restaurant 
 
128 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 of that eastern district, where one may lunch or 
 dine in the grand hall in which Eichard feasted of 
 old. Hard by is the church of Great St. Helen's, a 
 remnant of the ancient priory of the saint, old 
 in Shakespeare's day and doubtless familiar to him, 
 as in 1598 he was assessed for property in the 
 parish, and may have resided there for a time, 
 though we have no other evidence that he did. 
 However that may be, it is probable that to his 
 mention of Crosby Hall in Richard HI. we owe the 
 preservation of the fine remains of that mansion, 
 which, after being occupied as a Presbyterian 
 chapel, and later as a warehouse, was restored in 
 1834 in its present form, and we may hope will 
 long remain as one of the most beautiful and 
 interesting relics of Shakespeare's London. 
 
 To the few other relics of that period, better 
 known from their historical fame and interest, 
 like the Tower and Westminster Abbey, it is not 
 necessary to refer here. Though mentioned in the 
 plays and of course familiar to Shakespeare, they 
 have no special connection with his personal 
 history. 
 
 What friends or what employment Shakespeare 
 found on coming to London we do not know. 
 Doubtless there were Stratford people in the city 
 known to his father or to himself whom he could 
 look up, and who might be of some assistance to 
 him until he could get work of some kind ; but we 
 have definite information of only one such person. 
 
Shakespeare Goes to London 129 
 
 This was Eichard Field, who was apprenticed to 
 a printer in London in 1579, and soon after attain- 
 ing his freedom in 1587 began business on his own 
 account, an elegant edition of Ovid's MetamorpJioses 
 (1589) being one of the many books from his press. 
 That the Shakespeares were friends of the Fields 
 is evident from the fact that John Shakespeare was 
 appraiser of the goods of Henry Field, the father 
 of Eichard and a tanner by trade, whose inventory, 
 attached to his will, was made out in August, 1592. 
 The next year (1593) Eichard Field printed Shake- 
 speare's Venus and Adonis. 
 
 Mr. William Blades (^Shakespeare and Typog- 
 raphy, 1872) advances the theory, based on the 
 intimate knowledge of the printer's art shown in 
 the poet's works, that he must have had a practical 
 acquaintance with the business ; and that he prob- 
 ably worked at the trade for three years after he 
 arrived in London, before becoming an actor. The 
 theory is argued with much ingenuity in Blades's 
 book, but has made few, if any, converts among the 
 biographers and commentators. Shakespeare was 
 keenly interested in all forms of human activity, 
 and in his visits to Field's printing-house would 
 soon pick up all the knowledge of the trade which 
 appears in his works. Besides, it is quite certain 
 that he personally superintended tlie printing of 
 Venus and Adonis and Lucrece, both of which were 
 published before most of his allusions to typography 
 were written. 
 
130 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 According to a tradition which does not appear 
 in manuscript or in print until about the middle of 
 the 18th century, though said to have been originally 
 related by Sir William Davenant a century earlier, 
 Shakespeare's first employment in London was in 
 holding horses at the door of the theatre. The ear- 
 liest record of the story that has been discovered 
 is a manuscript note preserved in the University 
 Library, Edinburgh, written about the year 1748, 
 which reads thus : " Sir William Davenant, who has 
 been call'd a natural son of our author, us'd to tell 
 the following whimsical story of him : — Shake- 
 spear, when he first came from the country to the 
 play-house, was not admitted to act; but as it was 
 then the custom for all the people of fashion to 
 come on horseback to entertainments of all kinds, 
 it was Shakespear's employment for a time, with 
 several other poor boys belonging to the company, 
 to hold the horses and take care of them during the 
 representation ; — by his dexterity and care he soon 
 got a great deal of business in this way, and was 
 personally known to most of the quality that fre- 
 quented the house, insomuch that, being obliged, 
 before he was taken into a higher and more honour- 
 able employment within doors, to train up boys to 
 assist him, it became long afterwards a usual way 
 among them to recommend themselves by saying 
 that they were Shakespear's boys." 
 
 In 1753, the story is printed in the Lives of the 
 Poe^s /edited^ by Colley Gibber) as follows: "I can- 
 
Shakespeare Goes to London 131 
 
 not forbear relating a story which Sir William 
 Davenant told Mr. Betterton, who comm-unicated 
 it to Mr. Eowe; Rowe told it Mr. Pope, and Mr. 
 Pope told it to Dr. Newton, the late editor of 
 Milton, and from a gentleman who heard it from 
 him 'tis here related. Concerning Shakespear's 
 first appearance in the playhouse : — When he came 
 to London, he was without money and friends, and 
 being a stranger he knew not to whom to apply, nor 
 by what means to support himself. At that time, 
 coaches not being in use, and as gentlemen were 
 accustomed to ride to the playhouse, Shakespear, 
 driven to the last necessity, went to the playhouse 
 door, and pick'd up a little money by taking care 
 of the gentlemen's horses who came to the play. 
 He became eminent even in that profession, and 
 was taken notice of for his diligence and skill in it ; 
 he had soon more business than he himself could 
 manage, and at last hired boys under him, who were 
 known by the name of Shakespear's boys. Some of 
 the players, accidentally conversing with him, found 
 him so acute and master of so fine a conversation 
 that, struck therewith, they recommended him to 
 the house, in which he was first admitted in a very 
 low station, but he did not long remain so, for he 
 soon distinguished himself, if not as an extraordi- 
 nary actor, at least as a fine writer." 
 
 Johnson, in 1765, repeated the story in substan- 
 tially the same form as that of 1748; and Jordan, 
 in a manuscript written about 1783, and others 
 
132 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 subsequently gave it with sundry variations and 
 embellishm ents. 
 
 Some biographers discredit the tradition entirely, 
 but Halliwell-Phillipps, Sidney Lee, and others see 
 no inherent improbability in it. Knight says it is 
 possible that Shakespeare employed boys for the 
 business, but never held the horses himself. Karl 
 Elze declares that " the story cannot be true." It is 
 incredible, he says, that " a married man and father 
 of three children, who had enjoyed a comparatively 
 good education, — and who, besides, bore within his 
 breast the divine spark of poetic genius, and the 
 ambitious feelings that must assuredly have accom- 
 panied it, — could have so thrown himself away, 
 unless in the most abject want, and driven to it by 
 hunger. Now to all appearance Shakespeare was 
 in no way in any such straitened circumstances. 
 He possessed accomplishments enough to have 
 earned a living in some more refined, or, at least, 
 in some more remunerative way, and to have found 
 some employment in the theatre itself. If he did not 
 begin at the outset by taking some subordinate parts 
 on the stage, he might have obtained employment 
 by copying out the actors' parts, or in some other of 
 the many occupations to be had in connection with 
 a theatre." 
 
 On the other hand, the fact that the tradition is 
 founded upon the practice of gentlemen to go to the 
 theatre on horseback, " a custom obsolete after the 
 Restoration, is sufficient to establish the antiquity 
 
Shakespeare Goes to London 133 
 
 of the story." Sir John Davies, in his Epigrams 
 (1599), ridicules a man of inferior position for being 
 constantly on horseback, imitating in that respect 
 persons of higher rank, who ride even "into the 
 fieldes playes to behold." Halliwell-Phillipps, who 
 cites this allusion, adds : " There is at all events no 
 valid reason for enrolling the tradition amongst the 
 absolute fictions that have been circulated respect- 
 ing the poet. Several writers have taken that course 
 mainly on the ground that, although it was known 
 to Eowe, he does not allude to it in his Life of 
 Shakespeare, 1709; but there is no improbability 
 in the supposition that the story was not related to 
 him until after the publication of that work, the 
 second edition of which in 1714 is a mere reprint 
 of the first. Other reasons for the omission may be 
 suggested, but even if it be conceded that the anec- 
 dote was rejected as suspicious and improbable, that 
 circumstance alone cannot be decisive against the 
 opinion that there may be glimmerings of truth in 
 it. This is, indeed, all that is contended for. Few 
 would be disposed to accept the story literally as 
 related by Johnson, but when it is considered that 
 the tradition must be a very early one, that its gen- 
 ealogy is respectable, and that it harmonizes with 
 the general old belief of the great poet's having, 
 when first in London, subsisted by 'very mean 
 employments,' little doubt can fairly be enter- 
 tained that it has at least in some way or other a 
 foundation in real occurrences. It should also 
 
134 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 be remembered that horse-stealing was one of 
 the very commonest offences of the period, and 
 one which was probably stimulated by the facility 
 with which delinquents of that class obtained 
 pardons. The safe custody of a horse was a 
 matter of serious import, and a person who had 
 satisfactorily fulfilled such a trust would not be 
 lightly estimated." 
 
 It is significant, moreover, that all the early 
 traditions that are at all credible "concur in the 
 belief that Shakespeare did not leave his native 
 town with histrionic intention." Aside from this, 
 it would be a mistake " to assume that his dramatic 
 tastes impelled him to undertake an arduous and 
 premeditated journey to encounter the risk of an 
 engagement at a metropolitan theatre, however 
 powerfully they may have influenced his choice 
 of a profession after he had once arrived in London. 
 Tor, residing throughout his youth in what may 
 fairly be considered a theatrical neighbourhood, 
 with continual facilities for the cultivation of those 
 tastes, if he had yielded in his boyish days to an 
 impulsive fascination for the stage, it is most likely 
 that he would in some way have joined the profes- 
 sion while its doors were readily accessible through 
 one of the numerous itinerant companies, and 
 before, not after, such inclinations must have been 
 in some measure restrained by the local domestic 
 ties that resulted from his marriage. If he had 
 quitted Stratford-on-Avon in his early youth, there 
 
Shakespeare Goes to London 13^ 
 
 •would be no difficulty in understanding that he 
 became one of the elder players' boys or appren- 
 tices, but it is extremely unlikely that, at the age 
 of twenty-one, he would have voluntarily left a 
 wife and three children in Warwickshire for the 
 sake- of obtaining a miserable position on the 
 London boards." 
 
 It is not necessary, therefore, to assume that 
 Shakespeare went first to the theatre in search of 
 employment therein. A more plausible explanation 
 of the horse-holding tradition is suggested by Halli- 
 well-Phillipps. It appears that James Burbage, the 
 owner of the Theatre, rented premises near Smith- 
 field in which he " usually kept horses at liverye 
 for sundry persons," the manager of the stable 
 being " a northerne man usually called by the name 
 of Robyn." If Shakespeare had bought a horse for 
 the journey to London, he would probably take the 
 animal to Smithfield in order to sell it. He might ' 
 there have fallen in with Burbage, and have been 
 hired by him to do some work in the stable and also 
 to take care, during the play, of the horses of Bur- 
 bage's customers who visited the theatre. Sooner or 
 later the promising young man got into the theatre 
 in some humble capacity, as tradition represents. 
 William Castle, the parish-clerk at Stratford, in 1693 
 (see page 15 above) said that, after Shakespeare 
 ran away to London he " was received into the play- 
 house as a serviture " (servitor) ; and Eowe simi- 
 larly says that " he was received into the company 
 
^36* Life of Shakespeare 
 
 then in being at first in a very mean rank." Malone, 
 in 1780, refers to "a stage tradition that his first 
 oJBSce in the theatre was that of prompter's attend- 
 ant, whose employment it is to give the performers 
 notice to be ready to enter as often as the business 
 of the play requires their appearance on the stage ; " 
 and Downes, in 1710, remarks: "I have known men 
 within my remembrance arrive to the highest dig- 
 nities of the theatre, who made their entrance in 
 the quality of mutes, joint-stools, flower-pots, and 
 tapestry-hangings." 
 
 When Shakespeare came to London there were 
 only two playhouses in the metropolis — the Theatre 
 and the Curtain — and these were on the north side 
 of the Thames, both situated in the parish of Shore- 
 ditch, in the fields of the Liberty of Halliwell. 
 This was a sparsely populated suburb, about half a 
 mile outside the city walls, " possessing outwardly 
 the appearance of a country village, but inwardly 
 sustaining much of the bustle and all the vices of 
 the town." The rural character of the locality is 
 indicated by the fact that here Gerard, a few years 
 afterwards, discovered a new kind of crow-foot 
 which he describes as being similar to the ordinary 
 plant, "saving that his leaves are fatter, thicker, 
 and greener, and his small twiggie stalkes stand 
 upright, otherwise it is like; of which kinde it 
 chanced that, walking in the fielde next unto the 
 Theater by London, in company of a worshipfull 
 marchant named master Nicholas Lete, I founde 
 
Shakespeare Goes to London 137 
 
 one of this kinde there with double flowers, which 
 before that time I had not seene." 
 
 Some writers seem to suppose that in London the 
 poet's surroundings were in all respects essentially- 
 urban and in marked contrast to those he had left 
 behind in his native town; but, as we have seen, 
 there were many large gardens in the very heart of 
 the city, and here, in the immediate neighbourhood 
 of the playhouse in which he soon found employ- 
 ment, were green fields where he could pluck wild 
 flowers as he used to do in the pleasant meadows on 
 the banks of the Avon. 
 
 The Theatre was built and owned by James 
 Burbage, who in 1576 obtained from one Giles 
 Allen a lease for twenty-one years of houses and 
 land situated between Finsbury Eield and the public 
 road from Bishopgate to Shoreditch Church. Bur- 
 bage, though a carpenter by trade, had later become 
 an actor, and was a leading member of the Earl of 
 Leicester's company of players. He was the origi- 
 nator of theatrical buildings in England, for the 
 successful promotion of which both his earlier and 
 his adopted profession were exactly suited. He 
 obtained the lease with this express object, with a 
 proviso from Allen that, if he expended two hundred 
 pounds upon the buildings already on the estate, he 
 should be at liberty " to take downe and carrie awaie 
 to his and their owne proper use all such buildinges 
 and other thinges as should be builded, erected or 
 sett upp, in or uppon the gardeines and voide 
 
138 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 grounde by the said indentures graunted, or anie 
 parte therof, by the said Jeames, his executors or 
 assignes, either for a theatre or playinge place, or 
 for anie other lawefull use, for his or their com- 
 modities." The lease was signed on April 13th, 
 1576, and Burbage must have commenced the erec- 
 tion of his theatre immediately afterwards. It was 
 the earliest fabric of the kind ever built in the 
 country, and by the summer of the following year it 
 was a recognized centre of theatrical amusements. 
 On the first of August, 1577, the Lords of the Privy 
 Council directed a letter to be forwarded "to the 
 L. Wentworth, Mr. of the Eolles, and Mr. Lieu- 
 tenaunt of the Tower, signifieng unto them that, for 
 thavoiding of the sicknes likelie to happen through 
 the heate of the weather and assemblies of the 
 people of London to playes, her Highnes plesure is 
 that, as the L. Mayor hath taken order within the 
 Citee, so they, imediatlie upon the receipt of their 
 11. lettres, shall take order with such as are and 
 do use to play without the liberties of the Citee 
 within that countie, as the Theater and such like, 
 shall forbeare any more to play untill Mighelmas be 
 past at the least, as they will aunswer to the con- 
 trarye." This is the earliest notice of the Theatre 
 yet discovered. 
 
 The Curtain must have been built soon after the 
 Theatre and was very near it. A reference to it by 
 name occurs in Northbrooke's Treatise on Dicing, 
 licensed for publication in December, 1576. Both 
 
Shakespeare Goes to London 139 
 
 buildings were of wood, as proved by documents of 
 the time referring to them, and were round in form, 
 like the Globe theatre, erected later, of which pic- 
 tures are extant. Some writers believe that Henry V. 
 was performed at the Curtain in 1599, and that the 
 description of the theatre in the prologue of the first 
 act as a " wooden " refers to this playhouse ; but 
 it is more probable that the Globe is meant, to 
 which Burbage's company removed in the spring of 
 1599. 
 
 It would be natural to suppose that the name 
 of the Curtain was of theatrical origin, but it was 
 actually derived from the piece of ground on which 
 the playhouse stood, and which from its shape was 
 called the Curtain, being mentioned by that title in 
 a lease as early as 1538. A mansion built upon this 
 land was known as Curtain House, and Curtain Gar- 
 den and Curtain Close are mentioned in documents 
 of the time. The name is still retained in Curtain 
 Eoad, which must have been so called either from 
 the theatre or the land. 
 
 Although entertainments took place both at the 
 Theatre and at the Curtain during the winter 
 months, there can be but little doubt that the roof 
 in each of these buildings merely covered the stage 
 and galleries, the pit or yard being open to the sky. 
 This was certainly the case in the latter theatre. 
 The author of Vox Graculi or Jack Dawes Prognos- 
 tication, 1623, describing the characteristics of the 
 month of April, observes: "About this time new 
 
140 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 playes will be in more request then old, and if com- 
 pany come currant to the Bull and Curtaine, there 
 will be more money gathered in one after-noone 
 then will be given to Kingsland Spittle [Hospital] 
 in a whole moneth ; also, if, at this time, about the 
 houres of foure and five it waxe cloudy, and then 
 raine downeright, they shall sit dryer in the gal- 
 leries then those who are the understanding men in 
 the yard." The afternoon was likewise the usual 
 time for the performances in Shakespeare's day. 
 Chettle, in his Kind Hartes Dreame, 1592, alludes 
 to bowling-alleys, situated between the City walls 
 and the Theatre, " that were wont in the af ter-noones 
 to be left empty, by the recourse of good fellows 
 unto that unprofitable recreation of stage-playing." 
 The charge for admission to the Theatre was a 
 penny, but this merely entitled the visitor to stand- 
 ing-room in the lower part of the house. If he 
 wanted to enter any of the galleries another penny 
 was demanded, and even then a good seat was not 
 always secured without a repetition of the fee. 
 None who go, observes Lambard (Perambulation of 
 Kent, ed. 1596), " to Paris Gardein, the Bell Savage 
 or Theatre, to beholde beare baiting, enterludes or 
 fence play, can account of any pleasant spectacle 
 unlesse they first pay one pennie at the gate, an- 
 other at the entrie of the scaffolde, and the thirde 
 for a quiet standing." The author of Pappe with 
 an Hatchet, 1589, speaks of twopence as the usual 
 price of admission "at the Theater," so the prob- 
 
Shakespeare Goes to London 141 
 
 ability is that the penny was for places which 
 would be endured by only the lowest and poorest 
 class of auditors, the "groundlings," as Hamlet 
 calls them (iii. 2. 12), who stood in the yard or pit, 
 exposed to the uncertainties of the weather. Those 
 who were in the galleries were more or less pro- 
 tected from the rain. There were upper as well as 
 lower galleries in the building, the former being 
 mentioned in the proposed lease to Burbage of 
 1585 : " and further that yt shall or maye be lawf ull 
 for the sayde Gyles and for hys wyf e and familie, 
 upon lawfuU request therfore made to the sayde 
 Jeames Burbage, his executors or assignes, to enter 
 or come into the premisses, and their in some one of 
 fche upper romes to have such convenient place to 
 sett or stande to se such playes as shal be ther 
 played, freely without anythinge therefore payeinge, 
 soe that the sayde Gyles, hys wyfe and familie, doe 
 come and take ther places before they shal be taken 
 upp by any others." It appears from this extract 
 that there were seats for the audience, as well as 
 standing-room, in the galleries. 
 
 Neither the Theatre nor the Curtain was used 
 exclusively for dramatic entertainments. Both were 
 frequently engaged for matches and exercises in 
 fencing, as appears from several notices, dated 
 between the years 1578 and 1585, in a curious 
 manuscript volume which seems to be a register of 
 a society for the advancement of fencing. It would 
 appear from the original manuscript of Stow's 
 
142 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Survey that not only fencers, but tximblers and such 
 like, sometimes exhibited at these theatres. Near 
 the buildings of the dissolved priory, observes 
 Stow, "are builded two howses for the showe of 
 activities, comodies, tragidies and histories for rec- 
 reation ; the one of them is named the Curteyn in 
 Halywell, the other the Theatre ; thes are on the 
 backesyde of Holywell, towards the filde." 
 
 The district where these theatres were erected 
 had long been a great suburban playground. At 
 the butts in Finsbury Fields the youth and man- 
 hood of the city practised archery every Sunday, 
 feast-day, and holiday, as enjoined by royal procla- 
 mation and city ordinance. Here the games and 
 sports of the people were enjoyed, as hand-ball, 
 bandy-ball, football, cock-fighting, and the like. 
 This was also the drill-ground of the train-bands of 
 the city; and here the periodical musters and in- 
 spections of the militia were held. 
 
 The Theatre appears to have been a favourite 
 place of amusement, especially with the more unruly 
 of the populace. There are several allusions to its 
 crowded audiences and to the license which occa- 
 sionally attended the entertainments, the disorder 
 sometimes penetrating into the City itself. " By 
 reason no playes were the same daye, all the Citie 
 was quiet," observes the writer of a letter in June, 
 1684. Stockwood, in a Sermon Preached at Paules 
 Crosse in August, 1578, indignantly asks: "Wyll 
 not a fylthye playe wyth the blast of a trumpette 
 
Shakespeare Goes to London 143 
 
 sooner call thyther a thousande than an houres toll- 
 ing of a bell bring to the sermon a hundred ? — nay, 
 even heere in the Citie, without it be at this place 
 and some other certaine ordinarie audience, where 
 shall you finde a reasonable company ? — whereas, 
 if you resorte to the Theatre, the Curtayne and 
 other places of playes in the Citie, you shall on 
 the Lords Day have these places, with many other 
 that I cannot recken, so full as possible they can 
 throng." Upon a Sunday, two years afterwards, 
 in April, 1580, there was a great disturbance in the 
 same quarter, thus noticed in a letter from the Lord 
 Mayor to the Privy Council dated April 12th : — 
 " When it happened on Sundaie last that some great 
 disorder was committed at the Theatre, I sent for 
 the undershireve of Middlesex to understand the cer- 
 cumstances, to the intent that by myself or by him 
 I might have caused such redresse to be had as in 
 dutie and discretion I might, and therefore did also 
 send for the plaiers to have apered afore me, and 
 the rather because those playes doe make assembles 
 of cittizens and there families of whome I have 
 charge; but forasmuch as I understand that your 
 Lordship, with other of hir Majesties most honor- 
 orable Counsell, have entered into examination of 
 that matter, I have surceassed to procede further, 
 and do humbly refer the whole to your wisdomes 
 and grave considerations; howbeit, I have further 
 thought it my dutie to informe your Lordship, and 
 therewith also to beseche to have in your honorable 
 
144 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 rememberance, that the players of playes which are 
 used at the Theatre and other such places, and 
 tumblers and such like, are a very superfluous sort 
 of men and of suche facultie as the lawes have dis- 
 alowed, and their exersise of those playes is a great 
 hinderaunce of the service of God, who hath with 
 His mighty hand so lately admonished us of oure 
 earnest repentance." The Lord Mayor of course 
 alludes to the great earthquake which had occurred 
 a few days previously. In June, 1584, there was a 
 disturbance just outside the Theatre, thus narrated 
 in a letter to Lord Burghley: "Uppon Weddens- 
 daye one Browne, a serving man in a blew coat, a 
 shifting fellowe, havinge a perrelous witt of his 
 owne, entending a sport if he cold have browght it 
 to passe, did at Theater doore querell with certen 
 poore boyes, handicraft prentises, and strooke 
 somme of theym; and lastlie he, with his sword, 
 wondeid and maymed one of the boyes upon the 
 left hand, whereupon there assembled nere a thou- 
 sand people ; — this Browne dyd very cuninglie 
 convey hymself awaye." The crowds of disorderly 
 people frequenting the Theatre are thus alluded to 
 in Tarlton's Newes out of Purgatorie, 1590 : " Upon 
 Whitson monday last I would needs to the Theatre 
 to see a play, where, when I came, I founde such 
 concourse of unrulye people that I thought it better 
 solitary to walk in the fields then to intermeddle 
 myselfe amongst such a great presse." In 1592, from 
 an apprehension that the London apprentices might 
 
Shakespeare Goes to London 145 
 
 indulge in riots on Midsummer-night, the following 
 order was issued by the Lords of the Council : 
 " Moreover for avoydinge of thes unlawf uU assem- 
 blies in those quarters, yt is thoughte meete yow 
 shall take order that there be noe playes used in 
 anye place nere thereaboutes, as the Theator, Cur- 
 tayne or other usuall places there where the same 
 are comonly used, nor no other sorte of unlawf uU or 
 forbidden pastymes that drawe togeather the baser 
 sorte of people, from henceforth untill the feast of 
 St. Michaell." 
 
 The crowds which flocked to places of entertain- 
 ment were reasonably supposed to increase the 
 danger of the spread of infection during an epi- 
 demic, and the Theatre and Curtain were sometimes 
 ordered to be closed on that account. The Lord 
 Mayor of London in a letter to Sir Erancis Walsing- 
 ham, dated May 3rd, 1583, thus writes in reference 
 to the plague : " Among other we finde one very 
 great and dangerous inconvenience, the assemblie of 
 people to playes, beare-bayting, fencers and prophane 
 spectacles at the Theatre and Curtaine and other like 
 places, to which doe resorte great multitudes of the 
 basist sort of people and many enfected with sores 
 runing on them, being out of our jurisdiction, and 
 some whome we cannot descerne by any dilligence 
 and which be otherwise perilous for contagion, 
 biside the withdrawing from Gods service, the 
 peril of mines of so weake byldinges, and the avance- 
 ment of incontinencie and most ungodly confeder- 
 
146 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 acies." In the spring of 1586 plays at the Theatre 
 were prohibited for the first of these reasons, as 
 appears from the following note in the Privy Coun- 
 cil Eegister under the date of May 11th : "A lettre 
 to the L. Maior; his 1. is desired, according to his 
 request made to their Lordshippes by his lettres of 
 the vij.th of this present, to geve order for the 
 restrayning of playes and interludes within and 
 about the Cittie of London, for th'avoyding of in- 
 fectiou feared to grow and increase this tyme of 
 sommer by the com on assemblies of people at those 
 places, and that their Lordshippes have taken the 
 like order for the prohibiting of the use of playes at 
 the Theater and th'other places about Newington 
 out of his charge." 
 
 Of Shakespeare's history after he obtained ad- 
 mission to the theatre in some capacity we know 
 nothing. If he was employed at first as a servant 
 or prompter's boy, as tradition says, we cannot 
 doubt that his abilities were soon recognized and 
 led to something higher. Probably it was not long 
 before he began his career as an actor in small parts 
 and worked his way up more or less rapidly. But 
 for seven years after he went to London, or from 
 1585 to 1592, we have no information whatever con- 
 cerning him, and tradition is silent except with 
 reference to the very beginning of the period. 
 
 Aside from his work, whatever it may have been, 
 in the theatre, we may assume, with Halliwell- 
 Phillipps, that this was the chief period of his liter- 
 
Shakespeare Goes to London 147 
 
 ary training. " Removed prematurely from school, 
 residing with illiterate relatives in a bookless neigh- 
 bourhood, thrown into the midst of occupations 
 adverse to scholastic progress, it is difi&cult to be- 
 lieve that when he first left Stratford he was not all 
 but destitute of polished accomplishments. He 
 could not, at all events, under the circumstances in 
 which he had then so long been placed, have had 
 the opportunity of acquiring a refined style of com- 
 position. After he had once, however, gained a 
 footing in London, he would have been placed under 
 different conditions. Books of many kinds would 
 have been accessible to him, and he would have 
 been almost daily within hearing of the best dra- 
 matic poetry of the age. There would also no 
 doubt have been occasional facilities for picking up 
 a little smattering of the Continental languages, and 
 it is almost beyond a doubt that he added some- 
 what to his classical knowledge during his residence 
 in the metropolis. It is, for instance, hardly possi- 
 ble that the Amoves of Ovid, whence he derived his 
 earliest motto [for Venus and Adonis'], could have 
 been one of his school-books." 
 
 In 1587 several companies of actors visited Strat- 
 ford, two of which were those under the patronage 
 of the Queen and of Lord Leicester. Sidney Lee 
 plausibly suggests that " Shakespeare's friends may 
 have called the attention of the strolling players to 
 the homeless lad, rumours of whose search for em- 
 ployment about the London theatres may have 
 
148 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 reached Stratford ; " and " from such, incidents may 
 have sprung the opportunity which offered Shake- 
 speare fame and fortune." If at the time of the 
 return of these players to London he had already 
 got into the theatre in some inferior capacity, they 
 may have contributed to his promotion. With or 
 without such help, however, William Shakespeare 
 when once in the theatre was where his talents could 
 not fail to be speedily recognized, and where his 
 progress in the work for which he was born and 
 fitted was assured. 
 
 The company to which Shakespeare seems to have 
 belonged was first known as the Earl of Leicester's, 
 being under the nominal patronage of that noble- 
 man. Later, as it passed from one patron to 
 another, on account of the death of his predecessor 
 or for some other reason, it became successively the 
 Earl of Derby's, the Lord Chamberlain's, and, after 
 the accession of James to the throne, the King's 
 Servants, or Players. The patronage of a peer of 
 the realm or " some higher personage " was required 
 by an act of Parliament in 1571, as a condition of 
 the license granted to players. The patron's func- 
 tion was practically confined to this duty of grant- 
 ing or renewing the licenses. 
 
CHAPTEE VIII. 
 
 HIS DRAMATIC APPRENTICESHIP 
 
 At last, in 1592, we get a definite reference to 
 Shakespeare in the literature of the time; and, 
 curiously enough, we are indebted for it to the 
 envy and spite of a disappointed and dying play- 
 wright, Eobert Greene, who in the autumn of that 
 year published a little book, the full title of which 
 (in the edition of 1596, the earliest that has come 
 down to us) is as follows : " Greens Groats-ivorth of 
 Wit, bought ivith a Million of Repentaunce. Describ- 
 ing the foUie of youth, the falsehoode of make-shift 
 flatterers, the miserie of the negligent, and mis- 
 chief es of deceiving Courtesans. Written before 
 his death and published at his dying request. 
 Fselicem f uisse infaustum." The dedication is " To 
 those Gentlemen, his quondam acquaintance, that 
 spend their wits in making Plaies, E. G. wisheth a 
 better exercise, and wisdome to prevent his ex- 
 tremities." 
 
 The passage in which the reference to Shake- 
 speare occurs reads thus : — 
 
 " If wof ull experience may moove you, gentlemen, 
 to beware, or unheard of wretchednes intreate you to 
 
 149 
 
150 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 take heed, I doubt not but you will looke backe 
 with sorrow on your time past, and endevour with 
 repentance to spend that which is to come. Won- 
 der not, for with thee wil I first begin, thou famous 
 gracer of tragedians, that Greene, who hath said 
 with thee, like the foole in his heart, there is no 
 God, should now give gloria unto His greatnesse; 
 for penitrating is His power. His hand lies heavie 
 upon me. He hath spoken unto me with a voice of 
 thunder, and I have felt, He is a God that can 
 punish enimies. Why should thy excellent wit, 
 His gift, be so blinded, that thou shouldst give no 
 glory to the giver? Is it pestilent Machivilian 
 poUicie that thou hast studied ? punish f ollie ! 
 What are his rules but meere confused mockeries, 
 able to extirpate in small time the generation of 
 mankinde. Eor if sic volo, sic juheo, hold in those 
 that are able to command ; and if it be lawful!, fas 
 et nefas, to doe anything that is beneficiall, onely 
 tyrants should possesse the earth ; and they, striv- 
 ing to exceede in tyranny, should each to other bee 
 a slaughter-man; till the mightiest outliving all, 
 one stroke were left for death, that in one age mans 
 life should ende. The brother of this diabolicall 
 atheisme is dead, and in his life had never the 
 f elicitie he aimed at ; but as he began in craft, lived 
 in f eare, and ended in despaire. Quimn inscrutahilia 
 sunt Dei judicia ? This murderer of many brethren 
 had his conscience seared like Caine ; this betrayer 
 of him that gave his life for him inherited the por- 
 
 i 
 
His Dramatic Apprenticeship 151 
 
 tion of Judas ; this apostata perished as ill as 
 Julian : and wilt thou, my friend, be his disciple ? 
 Looke unto me, by him perswaded to that libertie, 
 and thou shalt finde it an infernall bondage. I 
 knowe the least of my demerits merit this miser- 
 able death ; but wilf uU striving against knowne 
 truth exceedeth al the terrors of my soule. Defer 
 not, with me, till this last point of extremitie ; for 
 little knowest thou how in the end thou shalt be 
 visited. 
 
 "With thee I joyne young Juvenall, that byting 
 satyrst that lastlie with mee together writ a comedie. 
 Sweete boy, might I advise thee, be advised, and 
 get not many enemies by bitter words; inveigh 
 against vaine men, for thou canst do it, no man 
 better, no man so wel; thou hast a libertie to re- 
 proove all, and name none; for one being spoken 
 to, al are offended ; none being blamed, no man is 
 injured. Stop shallow water still running, it will 
 rage ; tread on a worme, and it will turne ; then 
 blame not schoUers vexed with sharpe lines, if they 
 reprove thy too much libertie of reproofe. 
 
 "And thou, no lesse deserving then the other two, 
 in some things rarer, in nothing inferiour; driven 
 (as myself e) to extreame shifts ; a little have I to 
 say to thee ; and were it not an idolatrous oth, I 
 would sweare by sweet S. George thou art un- 
 worthie better hap, sith thou dependest on so meane 
 a stay. Base minded men al three of you, if by my 
 miserie ye be not warned; for unto none of you^ 
 
152 
 
 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 like me, sought those burres to cleave ; those pup- 
 pits, I meane, that speake from our mouths, those 
 anticks garnisht in our colours. Is it not strange 
 that I, to whom they al have beene beholding, is it 
 not like that you to whome they all have beene be- 
 holding, shall, were ye in that case that I am now, 
 be both at once of them forsaken ? Yes, trust them 
 not ; for there is an upstart crow, beautified with our 
 feathers, that, with his Tygers heart wrapt in a 
 Players hide, supposes he is as well able to bumbast 
 out a blanke verse as the best of you ; and being an 
 absolute Johannes Factotum, is in his owne conceit 
 the onely Shake-scene in a countrie. that I might 
 intreate your rare wits to be imployed in more 
 profitable courses, and let those apes imitate your 
 past excellence, and never more acquaint them with 
 your admired inventions ! I know the best hus- 
 band of you all will never prove an usurer, and the 
 kindest of them all wil never proove a kinde nurse ; 
 yet, whilst you may, seeks you better maisters, for 
 it is pittie men of such rare wits should be subject 
 to the pleasures of such rude groomes." 
 
 Here Greene begins by addressing three drama- 
 tists — Marlowe, Peele, and probably Lodge — and 
 then turns to the actors — "puppits that speake 
 from our mouths " (that is, declaim our productions), 
 against whom his wrath is mainly directed. He 
 then goes on to refer incidentally to "two more, 
 that both have writ against these buckram gentle- 
 men " (the actors), but does not dwell upon them. 
 
His Dramatic Apprenticeship 153 
 
 He then reverts to the three dramatists : " But 
 now returne I againe to you three," and urges 
 them to take warning from his wretched fate: 
 " Delight not, as I have done, in irreligious oaths ; 
 for from the blasphemer's house a curse shall not 
 depart. Despise drunkennes, which wasteth the 
 wit and making [sicj men all equal unto beasts. 
 Flie lust, as the deathsman of the soule, and defile 
 not the temple of the Holy Ghost. Abhorre thou 
 epicures, whose loose life hath made religion loth- 
 some to your eares ; . . . remember Kobert Greene, 
 whome they have so often flattered, perishes now 
 for want of comfort." 
 
 In December of the same year, Henry Chettle, 
 who had published Greene's pamphlet for him, 
 brought out his own Kind-Harts Dreame, in the 
 preface to which he says : — 
 
 "About three moneths since died M. Kobert 
 Greene, leaving many papers in sundry bookesellers 
 hands, among other his Groatsivorth of Wit, in 
 which a letter, written to divers play-makers, is 
 offensively by one or two of them taken; and be- 
 cause on the dead they cannot be avenged, they 
 wilfully forge in their conceites a living author; 
 and after tossing it two and fro, no remedy but it 
 must light on me. How I have all the time of my 
 conversing in printing hindred the bitter inveying 
 against sch oilers, it hath been very well knowne ; and 
 how in that I dealt, I can sufficiently proove. With 
 neither of them that take offence was I acquainted, 
 
154 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 and with one of tliem I care not if I never be. The 
 other, whome at that time I did not so much spare 
 as since I wish I had, for that, as I have moderated 
 the heate of living writers, and might liave usde my 
 owne discretion, — especially in such a case, the 
 author beeing dead, — that I did not I am as sory 
 as if the originall fault had beene my fault, because 
 myselfe have scene his demeanor no lesse civill, 
 than he exelent in the qualitie he professes ; — be- 
 sides, divers of worship have reported his upright- 
 nes of dealing, which argues his honesty, and his 
 facetious grace in writting, that aprooves his art. 
 For the first, whose learning I reverence, and, at 
 the perusing of Greenes booke, stroke out what 
 then in conscience I thought he in some displeasure 
 writ; or, had it beene true, yet to publish it was 
 intollerable ; him I would wish to use me no worse 
 than I deserve. I had onely in the copy this share ; 
 — it was il written, as sometimes Greenes hand 
 was none of the best; licensd it must be ere it 
 could bee printed, which could never be if it might 
 not be read. To be breife, I writ it over; and, as 
 neare as I could, followed the copy ; onely in that 
 letter I put something out, but in the whole booke 
 not a worde in; for I protest it was all Greenes, 
 not mine nor Maister Nashes, as some unjustly 
 have affirmed." 
 
 In this passage " The other, whome at that time 
 I did not so much spare " is assumed by nearly all 
 the biographers and critics to be Shakespeare ; but 
 
His Dramatic Apprenticeship 155 
 
 this is not absolutely clear. Chettle refers to 
 Greene's letter as "written to diYevs play-makers/' 
 and as " offensively by one or two of them taken." 
 The "one or two" appears from the context to 
 mean jtist two: "With neither of them that take 
 offence was I acquainted, and with one of them I 
 care not if I never be. The other," etc. This 
 "other," it would seem, must be one of the three 
 "play-makers" addressed by Greene, not one of 
 the "puppets," or actors, against whom he warns 
 them. Some one suggests that Chettle did not have 
 Greene's book before him when he wrote, and that, 
 having been particularly impressed by the sneer at 
 Shakespeare, he apologized for it and expressed his 
 own high opinion of the victim, without observing 
 that he had not made it quite clear to whom he 
 referred ; but this explanation seems to be a " trick 
 of desperation " to which the author is driven by 
 his reluctance to deprive Shakespeare of the praise 
 generally supposed to be given him both as an 
 actor and a writer. But the three " play-makers " 
 were or had been actors as well. 
 
 Greene's reference to Shakespeare has been as- 
 sumed to imply that he was both actor and author, 
 and plagiarist also. " Beautified with our feathers " 
 is taken to suggest the plagiarism ; but it may 
 rather refer to getting credit for declaiming what 
 they had written. The "player's hide" that fol- 
 lows favours this interpretation, and "to bumbast 
 out a blank verse" suggests speaking quite as 
 
156 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 naturally as writing. Of course it may refer to 
 both, as Shakespeare before 1592 had entered upon 
 his dramatic apprenticeship. [See also p. 529 below.] 
 
 "A Tygers heart wrapt in a Players hide" is 
 obviously a parody of "0 tiger's heart wrapp'd 
 in a woman's hide ! " in 3 Henry VI. (i. 4. 137). 
 That play, then, had been produced before Greene 
 wrote in August, 1592, or earlier. The other plays 
 of the trilogy (1 and 2 Henry VI.) had preceded it. 
 It is almost certain that 1 Henry VI. was an old 
 play by one or more authors which, as printed in 
 the folio of 1623, had been slightly retouched by 
 Shakespeare. The revised form was probably the 
 Henry VI. which, according to Henslowe's Diary, 
 was acted March 3, 1591-92, and to which Nash 
 alludes in his Pierce Pennilesse, printed in 1692, two 
 editions appearing in that year. Nash says : " How 
 would it have joyed brave Talbot (the terror of the 
 French) to thinke that, after he had lyen two hun- 
 dred yeare in his toomb, he should triumph againe 
 on the stage, and have his bones new embalmed with 
 the teares of ten thousand spectators at least, at 
 severall times, who, in the tragedian that repre- 
 sents his person, imagine they behold him fresh 
 bleeding." 
 
 Greene is generally assumed to have had a part 
 in the authorship of the original play, and may 
 have been assisted by Peele and Marlowe. The 
 critics are almost unanimous in crediting Shake- 
 speare with the scene (ii. 4) in which the white and 
 
His Dramatic Apprenticeship 157 
 
 red roses are plucked by Plantagenet and Somer- 
 set; and the scene (v. 3. 45 fol.) of the wooing of 
 Margaret by Suffolk also appears to be wholly or 
 partly his. Knight and some others believe that 
 all three parts of Henry VI. are entirely Shake- 
 speare's. 
 
 In 2 and 3 Henry VI. we have unquestionably a 
 larger proportion of Shakespeare's work, and the 
 earlier plays on which they were founded are ex- 
 tant in editions printed in 1594 and 1595. These 
 plays are entitled, respectively, "The First part 
 of the Contention betwixt the two famous Houses of 
 Yorke and Lancaster ; " and " The true Tragedie of 
 Eichard Duke of Yorke, and the death of good King 
 Henrie the Sixt, with the whole contention between 
 the two Houses Lancaster and Yorke." Second 
 editions of both these plays appeared in 1600 ; and in 
 1619 a third edition of the two together was issued 
 with the title : " The Whole Contention betweene 
 the two Famous Houses, Lancaster and Yorke." 
 This last was said to be "Written by William 
 Shakespeare, Gent." 
 
 About 3240 lines of these old plays appear either 
 in the same or in an altered form in 2 and 3 Henry 
 VI., the remainder of these latter, or about 2740 
 lines, being entirely new. 
 
 Various theories have been advanced with respect 
 to the authorship of the earlier plays, and their 
 relation to the later ones. Johnson, Steevens, 
 Knight, Ulrici, Delius, and the Germans generally, 
 
158 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 contend that Shakespeare wrote both the earlier 
 and the later plays. 
 
 Of the other theories, which assume a mixed 
 authorship for all the plays, that of Miss Jane Lee 
 (^Transactions of New Shakspere Society, 1875-76) 
 seems, on the whole, the most plausible. She takes 
 the ground that Marlowe and Greene (and possibly 
 Peele) were the authors of the old plays ; and that 
 Shakespeare and Marlowe, working together, recast 
 these into the later ones. In the old plays, the 
 parts of King Henry, Cardinal Beaufort, York 
 (many of whose speeches, however, are by Greene), 
 Suffolk, the two Cliffords, and Eichard are assigned 
 by Miss Lee to Marlowe, " with the reservation that 
 in certain scenes written by Greene the parts of 
 these characters were written by Greene also ; " 
 while Duke Humphrey (in a measure), the Duchess 
 Eleanor, Clarence, Edward IV., Elizabeth, Sir John 
 Hume, and Jack Cade belong to Greene. 
 
 " The Third Part of Henry VI." as Miss Lee 
 remarks, " underwent a much less thorough revision 
 than the Second. Out of 3075 lines in Part 11. 
 there are 1715 new lines, some 840 altered lines 
 (many but very slightly altered), and some 520 old 
 lines. In Part III., out of 2902 lines, there are 
 about 1021 new lines, about 871 altered lines, and 
 about 1010 old lines. Hence it is that in Part III. 
 there are fewer resemblances of thought and verbal 
 expression to Shakespeare's undoubted writings 
 than in Part II." 
 
His Dramatic Apprenticeship 159 
 
 There are difficulties in all the theories, and these 
 multiply as we study the plays more minutely. 
 It is not easy, on the one hand, to deny Shake- 
 speare a share in the early plays. The humorous 
 Jack Cade scenes in the Contention, for instance, 
 are too good for Greene, to whom they must be 
 ascribed if they are not Shakespeare's. Miss Lee 
 admits that they are " almost too good " for Greene, 
 and says that we see him here at his best, while we 
 see him at his worst in the earlier comic parts of 
 the play. On the other hand, some of the passages 
 which appear for the first time in Henry VI. are 
 more like Marlowe than Shakespeare. 
 
 The Contention and the True Tragedie appear to 
 have been founded on Hall's Chronicle rather than 
 Holinshed's; but in the revision of the plays the 
 latter was also used. 
 
 Titus Andronicus is another play, included in the 
 folio of 1623 and in the modern editions of the 
 dramatist, which must belong to this period, so far 
 as any share that he may have had in it is con- 
 cerned. The earliest known edition of it is a quarto 
 published in 1600. A second edition appeared in 
 1611 ; but, like the former, with no name of author 
 on the title-page. "A Noble Eoman-Historye of 
 Tytus Andronicus " was entered for publication in 
 the Stationers' Registers on the 6th of February, 
 1593; and in Henslowe's Diary a "titus and 
 ondronicus" is mentioned as acted for the first 
 time on the 23d of January, 1594; but whether 
 
i6o Life of Shakespeare 
 
 either of tliose plays was the Titus Andronicus 
 ascribed to Shakespeare it is impossible to say. 
 
 Langbaine (Account of the. English Dramatick 
 Poets, ed. 1691) says that Titus Andronicus was first 
 printed in 1594, and " acted by the Earls of Derby, 
 Pembroke, and Essex, their servants," the " Essex " 
 being evidently an error for "Sussex;" the play, 
 according to the title-page of 1600, having " sundry 
 times beene played by the Eight Honourable the 
 Earle of Pembrooke, the Earl of Darbie, the Earle 
 of Sussex, and the Lorde Chamberlaine theyr 
 Servants." 
 
 Eavenscroft, in the preface to his alteration of 
 the play (1687), says: "I have been told by some 
 anciently conversant with the stage, that it was not 
 originally his [Shakespeare's], but brought by a 
 private author to be acted, and he only gave some 
 master-touches to one or two of the principal 
 characters." Capell, Collier, Knight, and many of 
 the G-ermans, believe that the play is Shakespeare's ; 
 but the majority of the English editors reject it 
 entirely. The rest think that it was only touched 
 up by the dramatist, and they are probably right. 
 It is difficult to believe that he had any larger share 
 in its composition than Eavenscroft allowed him. 
 It may at first seem strange that his name should 
 have come to be associated with a work in which 
 we find so few traces of his hand ; but he- may have 
 improved the old play in other ways than by re- 
 writing any considerable portion of it, — by omis- 
 
His Dramatic Apprenticeship i6i 
 
 sions, re-arrangement of scenes, and the like — and 
 its popularity in the revised form may have led 
 to its being commonly known as "Shakespeare's 
 Titus Andronicus " (to distinguish it from the origi- 
 nal version, whosever it may have been), until at 
 length it got to be generally regarded as one of his 
 own productions. 
 
 If Shakespeare wrote the play, it must have been 
 at the very beginning of his career as an author — 
 "1589, or earlier," as Dowden suggests, when he 
 was " a young man carried away by the influence 
 of a Sturm und Drang (storm and stress) move- 
 ment similar to that which urged Schiller to write 
 his Rohhers. Titus Andronicus belongs essentially 
 to the pre-Shaksperian group of bloody tragedies, 
 of which Kyd's Spanish Tragedy is the most con- 
 spicuous example. If it is of Shaksperian author- 
 ship, it may be viewed as representing the years of 
 crude and violent youth before he had found his 
 true self." The popularity of the revised play is 
 attested by the number of representations and by 
 several early notices. Ben Jonson, in the Intro- 
 duction to Bartliolomev) Fair (1614), indicates that 
 it continued in favour even at that time. He says : 
 " hee that will sweare Jeronimo or Andronicus are 
 the best playes, yet shall passe unexcepted at heere 
 as a man whose judgement shewes it is constant and 
 hath stood still these five and twentie or thirty 
 yeeres." 
 
 When Shakespeare first tried his hand at wholly 
 
1 62 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 original work it appears to have been m comedy-, 
 and Love's Lahour's Lost was probably tke play. 
 The earliest edition of it that has come down to 
 us is a quarto published in 1598, the title-page of 
 which describes it as "a pleasant conceited com- 
 edie . . . presented before fher Highnes this last 
 Christmas," and as " by W. Shakespere." 
 
 The earliest mention of the play that has been 
 discovered is in the following lines from a poem 
 entitled Alba, or the Months Mind of a Melancholy 
 Lover, by "E. T. Gentleman" (Eobert Tofte), pub- 
 lished in 1598 : — 
 
 " Love's Labour Lost I once did see, a Play 
 Y-cleped so, so called to my paine. 
 Which I to heare to my small Icy did stay, 
 Giving attendance on my froward Dame : 
 My misgiving minde presaging to me ill, 
 Yet was I drawne to see it 'gainst my will. 
 
 Each Actor plaid in cunning wise his part, 
 But chiefly Those entrapt in Cupids snare ; 
 Yet All was fained, 't was not from the hart, 
 . They seemde to grieve, but yet they felt no care : 
 'T was I that Griefe (indeed) did beare in brest, 
 The others did but make a show in lest." 
 
 It was doubtless written as early as 1591, and 
 some critics date it two or three years earlier — 
 Furnivall in 1588-89, and Grant White as « prob- 
 ably not later than 1588." 
 
His Dramatic Apprenticeship 163 
 
 Among the marks of early style may be men- 
 tioned : the introduction of well-known old charac- 
 ters (besides "the Nine Worthies," we have what 
 Biron (v. 2. 540) calls "the pedant, the braggart, 
 the hedge priest, the fool, and the boy " ) ; the ob- 
 servance of the " unities ; " the abundance of rhyme, 
 the doggerel, the sonnets (occasionally as speeches) ; 
 the alliteration, or " affecting the letter," as Holof er- 
 nes calls it; the quibbles, antitheses, repartees, 
 " the sparkles of wit, like a blaze of fireworks " 
 (Schlegel) ; the proverbial expressions ; the peculiar 
 and pedantic grammatical constructions ; the words 
 used in their native forms; the display of learning; 
 the pairs of characters; the disguising and chang- 
 ing of persons; the chorus-like, alternate answers; 
 the strained dialogue, etc. It is " a play of conver- 
 sation and situation " (Furnivall), in which " depth 
 of characterization is subordinate to elegance and 
 sprightliness of dialogue" (Staunton). 
 
 The edition of 1598 is evidently, as the title-page 
 ^informs us, " newly corrected and augmented." In 
 two instances a lucky blunder of the printer has 
 preserved the original form of a passage together 
 with the revised version — the only such illustra- 
 tions of the dramatist " in the workshop " that are 
 to be found in all his works. Elsewhere we have 
 examples of early and later composition in different 
 passages of a play, but never in the same passage. 
 
 In Biron's long speech (iv. 3. 284 fol.) we have 
 these lines : — 
 
164 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 " For when would you, my lord, — or you, — or you, — 
 Have found the ground of study's excellence 
 Without the beauty of a woman's face ? 
 From women's eyes this doctrine I derive : 
 They are the ground, the books, the academes, 
 From whence doth spring the true Promethean fire." 
 
 « For where is any author in the world 
 Teaches such beauty as a woman's eye ? 
 Learning is but an adjunct to ourself , 
 And where we are our learning likewise is ; 
 Then when ourselves we see in ladies' eyes, 
 Do we not likewise see our learning there ? 
 O, we have made a vow to study, lords, 
 And in that vow we have forsworn our books." 
 
 This belongs to the play as first written. Some 
 editors strike it out ; but it seems better (as I have 
 done in my edition) to retain it enclosed in brackets. 
 It re-appears in the revision of the speech thus : — 
 
 <' For when would you, my liege, — or you, — or you, — 
 In leaden contemplation have found out 
 Such fiery numbers as the prompting eyes 
 Of beauty's tutors have enrich'd you with ? 
 
 Never durst poet touch a pen to write 
 Until his ink were temper'd with Love's sighs ; 
 O, then his lines would ravish savage ears 
 And plant in tyrants mild humility ! 
 From women's eyes this doctrine I derive : 
 They sparkle still the right Promethean fire ; 
 
His Dramatic Apprenticeship 165 
 
 They are the books, the arts, the academes. 
 That show, contain, and nourish all the world, 
 Else none at all in aught proves excellent. 
 Then fools you were these women to forswear, 
 Or keeping what is sworn, you will prove fools. 
 For wisdom's sake, a word that all men love, 
 Or for love's sake, a word that loves all men, 
 Or for men's sake, the authors of these women, 
 Or women's sake, by whom we men are men, 
 Let us once lose our oaths to find ourselves. 
 Or else we lose ourselves to keep our oaths." 
 
 Again, in v. 2. 817 fol., we find this bit of the 
 original play : — 
 
 '■'Biron. And what to me, my love ? and what to me ? 
 
 Rosaline. You must be purged too, your sins are rank. 
 You are attaint with faults and perjury ; 
 Therefore if you my favour mean to get, 
 A twelvemonth shall you spend, and never rest, 
 But seek the weary beds of people sick." 
 
 In the revision Biron's question is transferred to 
 Dumain: "But what to me, my love? but what 
 to me ? " and the passage is altered and expanded 
 thus : — 
 
 ^'■Biron. Studies my lady? mistress, look on me; 
 Behold the window of my heart, mine eye, 
 What humble suit attends thy answer there ; 
 Impose some service on me for thy love. 
 
 Rosaline. Oft have I heard of you, my Lord Biron, 
 
1 66 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Before I saw you ; and the world's large tongue 
 Proclaims you for a man replete with mocks, 
 Full of comparisons and wounding flouts, 
 Which you on all estates will execute 
 That lie within the mercy of your wit. 
 To weed this wormwood from your fruitful brain, 
 And therewithal to win me, if you please, — 
 Without the which I am not to be won, — 
 You shall this twelvemonth term from day to day 
 Visit the speechless sick, and still converse 
 With groaning wretches ; and your task shall be, 
 With all the fierce endeavour of your wit 
 To enforce the pained impotent to smile." 
 
 The plot of the play, so far as we know, was 
 original with Shakespeare. Dowden remarks: 
 "The play is precisely such a one as a clever young 
 man might imagine, who had come lately from the 
 country — with its '■ daisies pied and violets blue,' its 
 'merry larks,' its maidens who 'bleach their sum- 
 mer smocks,' its pompous parish schoolmaster and 
 its dull constable (a great public official in his own 
 eyes) — to the town, where he was surrounded by 
 more brilliant unrealities, and affectations of dress, 
 of manner, of language, and of ideas. Lo^i^s 
 Labour's Lost is a dramatic plea on behalf of nature 
 and of common-sense, against all that is unreal and 
 affected." 
 
 The hero of the play is the King of Navarre, and 
 Sidney Lee has shown {Gentleman^ s Magazine, 
 October, 1880) that Biron and Longaville bear the 
 
His Dramatic Apprenticeship 167 
 
 names of the two most strenuous supporters of the 
 real king, and that the name of Dumain is an Angli- 
 cized form of that of the Due de Maine or Mayenne, 
 who was so often mentioned in popular accounts of 
 French affairs in connection with Navarre that 
 Shakespeare was led to number him also among the 
 king's supporters. Mothe or La Mothe, from whom 
 the page gets his name, was a French ambassador 
 long popular in London. M. Le Mot 'is a courtier 
 in Chapman's Huviorous Day^s Mirth, 1599, and is 
 alluded to in Middleton's Blu7% Master Constable, 
 1602. Armado is a caricature of a half-crazed 
 Spaniard known as "fantastical Monarcho," who 
 for many years hung about the Court of Elizabeth. 
 Sundry other persons and topics of the time are 
 alluded to in the play. 
 
 The Two Gentlemen of Verona was probably Shake- 
 speare's next comedy, written in or about 1591, 
 though not printed, so far as we know, until it 
 appeared in the folio of 1623. 
 
 Some of the incidents in the plot are identical 
 with those in the Story of the Shepherdess Felismena 
 in the Diana Enamorada of Jorge de Montemayor, 
 a Portuguese poet and novelist (though this romance 
 was written in Spanish), who was born in 1520. 
 The Diana was translated by Bartholomew Yong (or 
 Young) as early as 1583, though his version was 
 not printed until 1598. The tale appears to have 
 been dramatized in 1584 in the History of Felix and 
 Philomena, acted at Greenwich. Shakespeare may 
 
1 68 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 also have drawn some material from Bandello's 
 novel of Apollonius and Sylla (translated in 1581) 
 and from Sidney's Arcadia. He was, however, but 
 slightly indebted to any of these sources, and some 
 of the coincidences that have been pointed out may 
 be accidental. 
 
 Hanmer, and after hun Upton, thought the style 
 of the play so little like Shakespeare's general 
 dramatic manner that they were confident " he could 
 have had no other hand in it than enlivening, with 
 some speeches and lines, thrown in here and there," 
 the production of some inferior dramatist, from 
 whose thoughts his own are easily to be distin- 
 guished, "as being of a different stamp from the 
 rest ; " but this view was refuted by Johnson, and 
 has been rejected by all succeeding critics. On the 
 contrary, as Verplanck remarks, " The play is full 
 of undeniable marks of the author in its strong 
 resemblance in taste and style to his earlier plays 
 and poems, as well as in the indications it gives of 
 his future power of original humour and vivid de- 
 lineation of character. It, indeed, has the charac- 
 teristics of a young author who had already acquired 
 a ready and familiar mastery of poetic diction and 
 varied versification, and who had studied nature 
 with a poet's eyes; for the play abounds in brief 
 passages of great beauty and melody. There are 
 here, too, as in his other early dramas, outlines of 
 thought and touches of character, sometimes faintly 
 or imperfectly sketched, to which he afterwards 
 
His Dramatic Apprenticeship 169 
 
 returned in his maturer years, and wrought them 
 out into his most striking scenes and impressive pas- 
 sages. Thus, Julia and Silvia are, both of them^ 
 evidently early studies of female love and loveli- 
 ness, from the unpractised 'prentice hand' of the 
 same great artist who was afterwards to portray 
 with matchless delicacy and truth the deeper affec- 
 tions, the nobler intellects, and the varied imagina^ 
 five genius of Viola, of Eosalind, and of Imogen. 
 Indeed, as a drama of character, however inferior 
 to his own after-creations, it is, when compared with 
 the works of his predecessors and contemporaries, 
 superior alike in taste and in originality." 
 
 The precise order of these early comedies cannot 
 be definitely settled, but The Comedy of Errors 
 probably followed The Two Gentlemen of Verona, 
 though some critics believe that it preceded that 
 play. All agree that it was one of the earliest of 
 the plays, though first printed in the folio of 1623. 
 It is probably the " Comedy of Errors, like to Plautus 
 his MenechTnus," which, according to the Gesta 
 Grayorum, was " played by the players " at Gray's 
 Inn, one night in December, 1594. The pun in iii. 
 2. 121 on France "making war against her heir" 
 would seem to show that the play was written be- 
 tween August, 1589, when the civil war about the 
 succession of Henry IV. began, and July, 1593, 
 when it ended. A writer in the North British 
 Revieiv (April, 1870) attempts to show that events 
 in French history of earlier date are alluded to. 
 
lyo Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Henry of Navarre, he says, became heir to the 
 throne on the death of the Duke of Anjou in 1584, 
 and remained so until he became king on the murder 
 of Henry HI., Aug. 2, 1589. 
 
 The majority of editors date the play in 1591, 
 though some place it as early as 1589 and others 
 as late as 1592. 
 
 The general idea of the plot is taken from 
 Plautus, but with material changes and additions. 
 To the twin brothers of the Latin dramatist are 
 added twin servants, and though this increases the 
 improbability, yet, as Schelgel observes, "when 
 once we have lent ourselves to the first, which cer- 
 tainly borders on the incredible, we should not 
 probably be disposed to cavil about the second ; and 
 if the spectator is to be entertained with mere per- 
 plexities, they cannot be too much varied." 
 
 The Comedy of Errors is the shortest of the plays, 
 having only 1778 lines ("Globe" edition), while 
 Hamlet, the longest, has 3930, Richard III. 3620, 
 etc. The next shortest is The Tempest with 2065, 
 the next Macbeth with 2108, and the next A Mid- 
 summer-Night'' s Dream with 2180. 
 
 Coleridge, commenting on this play in his Liter- 
 ary Remains, remarks: "The myriad-minded man, 
 our, and all men's, Shakspeare, has in this piece 
 presented us with a legitimate farce in exactest 
 consonance with the philosophical principles and 
 character of farce, as distinguished from comedy 
 and from entertainments. A proper farce is mainly 
 
His Dramatic Apprenticeship 171 
 
 distinguished from comedy by the license allowed, 
 and even required, in the fable, in order to produce 
 strange and laughable situations. The story need 
 not be probable, it is enough that it is possible. A 
 comedy would scarcely allow even the two Antiph- 
 oluses; because, although there have been in- 
 stances of almost indistinguishable likeness in two 
 persons, yet these are mere individual accidents, 
 casus ludentis naturae, and the verttmwill not excuse 
 the inverisimile. But farce dares add the two 
 Dromios, and is justified in so doing by the laws of 
 its end and constitution. In a word, farces com- 
 mence in a postulate, which must be granted." 
 
 But though the play is a farce rather than a 
 comedy, so far as the plot is based upon the con- 
 fusion of identity in the adventures of the twin 
 brothers and the twin slaves, it is not a mere farce 
 — something, indeed, which Shakespeare seems to 
 have been incapable of writing. With this farcical 
 plot he has interwoven a pathetic story of domestic 
 affection and misfortune, with which the play begins 
 and with which it ends, when the sorrow upon 
 which the curtain rose is turned to gladness as it 
 falls. There is nothing of this in the old Latin 
 play, and only one or two of the commentators have 
 alluded to the manner in which the young Shake- 
 speare idealized and ennobled the story. Drake, in 
 his Shakespeare and his Times (1817), hints at it 
 thus : " In a play of which the plot is so intricate, 
 occupied in a great measure by mere personal mis- 
 
172 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 takes and their whimsical results, no elaborate de- 
 velopment of character can be expected ; yet is the 
 portrait of ^geon touched with a discriminative 
 hand, and the pressure of age and misfortune is so 
 painted as to throw a solemn, dignified, and impress- 
 ive tone of colouring over this part of the fable, 
 contrasting well with the lighter scenes which im- 
 mediately follow — a mode of relief which is again 
 resorted to at the close of the drama, where the 
 reunion of ^geon and Emilia, and the recognition 
 of their children, produce an interest in the denoue- 
 ment of a nature more affecting than the tone of the 
 preceding scenes had taught us to expect." 
 
 The only other play which the critics generally 
 agree in assigning, at least in its earliest form, to 
 the same period as the comedies already mentioned, 
 is the tragedy of Borneo and Juliet, which was 
 probably begun as early as 1591, though it may not 
 have attained its final shape until 1596 or 1597. 
 
 The earliest edition of the play, so far as we 
 know, was a quarto printed in 1597, the title-page 
 of which asserts that "it hath been often (with 
 great applause) plaid publiquely." A second 
 quarto appeared in 1599, declared to be " newly cor- 
 rected, augmented, and amended." 
 
 Two other quartos appeared before the folio of 
 1623, one in 1609 and the other undated ; and it 
 is doubtful which was the earlier. The undated 
 quarto is the first that bears the name of the author 
 (" Written by W. Shakespeare "), but this does not 
 
His Dramatic Apprenticeship 173 
 
 occur in some copies of the edition. A fifth quarto 
 was published in 1637. 
 
 The first quarto is much shorter than the second, 
 the former having only 2232 lines, including the 
 prologue, while the latter has 3007 lines (Daniel). 
 Some editors believe that the first quarto gives 
 the author's first draft of the play, and the second 
 the form it assumed after he had revised and en- 
 larged it; but the majority of the best critics agree 
 substantially in the opinion that the first quarto was 
 a pirated edition, and represents in an abbreviated 
 and imperfect form the play subsequently printed 
 in full in the second. The former was "made up 
 partly from copies of portions of the original play, 
 partly from recollection and from notes taken 
 during the performance ; " the latter was from an 
 authentic copy, and a careful comparison of the 
 text with the earlier one shows that in the mean- 
 time the play " underwent revision, received some 
 slight augmentation, and in some few places must 
 have been entirely rewritten." 
 
 The internal evidence confirms the opinion that 
 the tragedy was an early work of the poet, and 
 that it was subsequently "corrected, augmented, 
 and amended." There is a good deal of rhyme, 
 and much of it in the form of alternate rhyme. 
 The alliteration, the frequent playing upon words, 
 and the lyrical character of many passages also 
 lead to the same conclusion. 
 
 Girolamo della Corte, in his Storia di Verona, 
 
174 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 1594, relates the story of the play as a true event 
 occurring in 1303; but the earlier annalists of the 
 city are silent on the subject. A tale very similar, 
 the scene of which is laid in Siena, appears in a 
 collection of novels by Masuccio di Salerno, printed 
 at Naples in 1476 ; but Luigi da Porto, in his Giu- 
 lietta, published about 1530, is the first to call 
 the lovers Eomeo and Juliet, and to make them the 
 children of the rival Veronese houses. The story 
 was retold in French by Adrian Sevin, about 1542; 
 and a poetical version of it was published at Venice 
 in 1553. It is also found in Bandello's Novelle, 
 1554; and five years later Pierre Boisteau trans- 
 lated it, with some variations, into French in his 
 Histoire de Deux Amans. The earliest English ver- 
 sion of the romance appeared in 1562 in a poem by 
 Arthur Brooke founded upon Boisteau' s novel, and 
 entitled RoTneus and Juliet. A prose translation of 
 Boisteau's novel was given in Paynter's Palace of 
 Pleasure, in 1567. It was undoubtedly from these 
 English sources, and chiefly from the poem by 
 Brooke, that Shakespeare drew his material. It is 
 to be noted, however, that Brooke speaks of having 
 seen " the same argument lately set forth on stage ; " 
 and it is possible that this lost play may also have 
 been known to Shakespeare, though we have no 
 reason to suppose that he made any use of it. That 
 he followed Brooke's poem rather than Paynter's 
 prose version is evident from a careful comparison 
 of the two with the play. 
 
His Dramatic Apprenticeship 175 
 
 Grant White remarks : " The tragedy follows the 
 poem with a faithfulness which might be called 
 slavish, were it not that any variation from the 
 course of the old story was entirely unnecessary for 
 the sake of dramatic interest, and were there not 
 shown in the progress of the action, in the modifica- 
 tion of one character, and in the disposal of another, 
 all peculiar to the play, self-reliant dramatic intui- 
 tion of the highest order. For the rest, there is not 
 a personage or a situation, hardly a speech, essential 
 to Brooke's poem, which has not its counterpart — 
 its exalted and glorified counterpart — in the 
 tragedy. ... In brief, Romeo and Juliet owes to 
 Shakespeare only its dramatic form and its poetic 
 decoration. But what an exception is the latter! 
 It is to say that the earth owes to the sun only its 
 verdure and its flowers, the air only its perfume 
 and its balm, the heavens only their azure and their 
 glow. Yet this must not lead us to forget that the 
 original tale is one of the most truthful and touch- 
 ing among the few that have entranced the ear and 
 stirred the heart of the world for ages, or that in 
 Shakespeare's transfiguration of it his fancy and his 
 youthful fire had a much larger share than his phi- 
 losophy or his imagination." 
 
 Coleridge, in his Notes and Lectures upon ShaTc- 
 speare, says : " The stage in Shakspeare's time was 
 a naked room with a blanket for a curtain ; but he 
 made it a field for monarchs. That law of unity 
 which has its foundations, not in the factitious 
 
176 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 necessity of custom, but in nature itself, the unity 
 of feeling, is everywhere and at all times observed 
 by Shakspeare in his plays. Eead Romeo and 
 Juliet: all is youth and spring — youth with its 
 follies, its virtues, its precipitancies; spring with 
 its odours, its flowers, and its transiency. It is one 
 and the same feeling that commences, goes through, 
 and ends the play. The old men, the Capulets and 
 the Montagues, are not common old men ; they have 
 an eagerness, a heartiness, a vehemence, the effect 
 of spring; with E,omeo, his change of passion, his 
 sudden marriage, and his rash death, are all the 
 effects of youth ; whilst in Juliet love has all that 
 is tender and melancholy in the nightingale, all 
 that is voluptuous in the rose, with whatever is 
 sweet in the freshness of spring ; but it ends with 
 a long deep sigh like the last breeze of the Italian 
 evening." 
 
 Richard III., the first of the English historical 
 plays which, in the opinion of the maj ority of critics 
 (with whom I heartily agree), is entirely the work 
 of Shakespeare, may have been written as early as 
 1592. Dowden considers that it can hardly be later 
 than 1593, and Grant White is inclined to put it in 
 that year or early in 1594. It naturally follows 
 the Henry VI. trilogy, in which Shakespeare must 
 have become keenly interested during his work of 
 revision, and it is probable that he began the con- 
 tinuation of the history soon afterwards. The 
 earliest known edition of the play was published in 
 
His Dramatic Apprenticeship 177 
 
 1597. It was not until that year that the reputa- 
 tion of the dramatist appears to have been sufficiently 
 established to lead booksellers to print any of his 
 plays. The first edition did not bear his name, but 
 the second, published the next year (1598), adds 
 " By William Shake-speare " to the title-page. Other 
 quarto editions appeared in 1602, 1605, 1612, and 
 1622. All four are said to be " newly augmented," 
 but they contain nothing that is not found in the 
 second quarto, unless it be additional errors of the 
 press. 
 
 The text of the play in the folio of 1623 differs 
 materially from that of the quartos. Besides many 
 little changes in expression, it contains several pas- 
 sages — one of more than fifty lines — not found in 
 the earlier texts ; while, on the other hand, it omits 
 sundry lines — in some cases, essential to the con- 
 text — given in the quartos. The play is, moreover, 
 one of the worst printed in the folio, and the quar- 
 tos often help us in correcting the typographical 
 errors. Which is on the whole the better text, and 
 what is the relation of the one to the other, are 
 questions which have been much disputed, but 
 probably will never be satisfactorily settled. The 
 Cambridge editors remark: "The respective origin 
 and authority of the 1st quarto and 1st folio texts 
 of Richard HI. is perhaps the most difficult question 
 which presents itself to an editor of Shakespeare. 
 In the case of most of the plays a brief survey leads 
 him to form a definite judgment ; in this, the most 
 
178 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 attentive examination scarcely enables him to pro- 
 pose with confidence a hypothetical conclusion." 
 Staunton says : " The diversity has proved, and will 
 continue to prove, a source of incalculable trouble 
 and perpetual dispute to the editors, since, although 
 it is admitted by every one properly qualified to 
 judge, that a reasonably perfect text can only be 
 formed from the two versions, there will always 
 be a conflict of opinions regarding some of the read- 
 ings." Furnivall considers " the making of the best 
 text " of the play " the hardest puzzle in Shakspere 
 editing." 
 
 A seventh quarto edition was printed in 1629, 
 but the text is not from the folio but from the 
 quarto of 1622; and an eighth quarto (1634) is a 
 reprint of the seventh. 
 
 James Eussell Lowell, in a lecture at Chicago, 
 February 22d, 1887, expressed the opinion that the 
 play was merely revised by Shakespeare. "It 
 appears to' me," he said, "that an examination of 
 Richard III. plainly indicates that it is a play 
 which Shakespeare adapted to the stage, making 
 additions, sometimes longer and sometimes shorter; 
 and toward the end he either grew weary of his 
 work or was pressed for time, and left the older 
 author, whoever he was, pretty much to himself." 
 The procession of ghosts in the play, Lowell says, 
 always struck him "as ludicrous and odd rather 
 than impressive." 
 
 This does not differ essentially from the decision 
 
His Dramatic Apprenticeship 179 
 
 to whicli Mr. Fleay had come in his Chronicle History 
 of Sliakes'peare, published in 1886. He believes that 
 the earlier play was Marlowe's, partly written in 
 1593, but left unfinished at his death, and completed 
 and altered by Shakespeare in 1594. 
 
 Even so cautious and conservative a critic as 
 Halliwell-Phillipps recognizes indications of earlier 
 work in the play. After referring to the historical 
 sources of the plot in More and Holinshed, he adds : 
 " There are also slight traces of an older play to be 
 observed, passages which may belong to an inferior 
 hand, and incidents, such as that of the rising of 
 the ghosts, suggested probably by similar ones in a 
 more ancient composition. That the play of Rich- 
 ard HI., as we now have it, is essentially Shake- 
 speare's, cannot admit of a doubt ; but as little can 
 it be questioned that to the circumstance of an 
 anterior work on the subject having been used do 
 we owe some of its weakness and excessively turbu- 
 lent character. No copy of this older play is known 
 to exist, but one brief speech and the two following 
 lines have been accidentally preserved : — 
 
 ' My liege, the Duke of Buckingham is ta'en, 
 And Banister is come for his reward ' — 
 
 [compare Richard III. iv. 4. 529: 'My liege, the 
 Duke of Buckingham is taken'], from which it is 
 clear that the new dramatist did not hesitate to 
 adopt an occasional line from his predecessor, al- 
 
i8o Life of Shakespeare 
 
 though he entirely omitted the character of Banis- 
 ter, Both plays must have been successful, for, 
 notwithstanding the great popularity of Shake- 
 speare's, the more ancient one sustained its ground 
 on the English stage until the reign of Charles I." 
 The fact appears to be, as other critics have 
 noted, that Shakespeare when he wrote Richard 
 III. was still under the influence of Marlowe, and 
 modelled the play after that dramatist. "It was 
 Marlowe's characteristic," as Eurnivall remarks, "to 
 embody in a character, and realize with terrific 
 force, the workings of a single passion. In Tam- 
 hurlaine he personified the lust of dominion, in 
 Faustus the lust of forbidden power and knowl- 
 edge, in Barabas (^The Jew of Malta) the lust of 
 wealth and blood. In Richard III. Shakspere 
 embodied ambition, and sacrificed his whole play 
 to this one figure. . . . The weakest part of the play 
 is the scene of the citizens' talk ; and the poorness 
 of it, and the monotony of the women's curses, have 
 given rise to the theory that in Richard III. Shak- 
 spere was only re-writing an old play, of which he 
 let bits stand. But though I once thought this 
 possible, I have since become certain that it is not 
 so. The wooing of Anne by Eichard has stirred 
 me, in reading it aloud, almost as much as anything 
 else in Shakspere. Note, too, how the first lines of 
 the play lift you out of the mist and confusion 
 of the Henry VI. plays into the sun of Shak- 
 spere's genius." 
 
His Dramatic Apprenticeship i8i 
 
 OecheUiauser (Essay uber Richard HI.') well says 
 that this play marks " the significant boundary- 
 stone which separates the works of Shakespeare's 
 youth from the immortal works of the period of his 
 fuller splendour." 
 
 Eichard Burbage was particularly celebrated in 
 the part of Kichard in this play. The line, "A 
 horse ! a horse ! my kingdom for a horse ! " was 
 rendered by him with so much vigour and effect 
 that it came to be imitated, and sometimes bur- 
 lesqued, by contemporary writers. "The speech 
 made such an impression on Marston that it ap- 
 pears in his works, not merely in its authentic 
 form, but satirized and travestied into such lines 
 as, ^ A man ! a man ! a kingdom for a man ! ' 
 (Scourge of Villanie, 1598) ; ' A boate ! a boate ! a 
 boate ! a full hundred markes for a boate ! ' (East- 
 ward Hoe, 1605) ; ' A f oole ! a f oole ! a f oole ! my 
 coxcombe for a f oole ! ' (Parasitaster, 1606). Bur- 
 bage continued to act the part of Eichard until his 
 death in 1619, and his supremacy in the character 
 lingered for many years in the recollection of the 
 public." Corbet, the witty and poetical Bishop 
 of Oxford, in his Iter Boreale — a poetical narra- 
 tive of a journey, in the manner of Horace's Jour- 
 ney to Brundisium, first printed in 1617 — thus 
 incidentally records the popularity of the play 
 and of its theatrical hero, in his account of a 
 visit to Bosworth Field (misquoted by all the 
 editors) : — 
 
1 82 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 " Mine host was full of ale and history, 
 
 And in the morning when he brought us nigh 
 
 Where the two Roses join'd, you would suppose 
 
 Chaucer ne'er made the Romaunt of the Rose. 
 
 Hear him. See ye yon wood ? There Richard lay 
 
 With his whole army. Look the other way, 
 
 And, lo ! where Richmond in a bed of gorse 
 
 Encamp' d himself o'er night, and all his force : 
 
 Upon this hill they met. Why, he could tell 
 
 The inch where Richmond stood, where Richard fell. 
 
 Besides what of his knowledge he could say, 
 
 He had authentic notice from the play ; 
 
 Which I might guess by 's must'ring up the ghosts, 
 
 And policies not incident to hosts ; 
 
 But chiefly by that one perspicuous thing 
 
 Where he mistook a player for a king. 
 
 For when he would have said, King Richard died, 
 
 And call'd, A horse ! a horse ! he Burbage cried." 
 
 Richard 11. was written soon after Richard III., 
 though, like that play, it was not printed until 
 1597, in a quarto edition without the author's 
 name, which was added in a second edition the 
 next year. 
 
 A third quarto appeared in 1608, "with new 
 additions of the Parliament Sceane, and the depos- 
 ing of King E-ichard," as the title-page informs us. 
 It was reprinted in 1615 with the same title-page. 
 A fifth quarto, apparently from the text of the 
 second folio (1632), was issued in 1634. 
 
 The " new additions " of the third quarto, which 
 are retained in the succeeding editions, occur in the 
 
His Dramatic Apprenticeship 183 
 
 first scene of act iv., beginning with line 154, " May 
 it please you, lords, to grant the commons' suit ? " 
 and ending with line 317 (318 in editions that re- 
 tain " Here, cousin" as line 182), " That rise thus 
 nimbly by a true King's fall." Though not printed 
 during the life of Elizabeth, there can be little 
 doubt that they formed part of the play as origi- 
 nally written ; for they agree with the act in style 
 and rhythm, and are the natural introduction to 
 the Abbot's speech (line 321): "A woeful pageant 
 have we here beheld." Their suppression in the 
 earlier editions was probably for fear of offending 
 Elizabeth, who was very sensitive upon the subject 
 of the deposition of an English sovereign. It had 
 been often attempted in her own case, and she did 
 not like to be reminded that it had been accom- 
 plished in Eichard's. It is said that once when 
 Lambarde, the keeper of the records in the Tower, 
 in showing her a portion of the rolls he had pre- 
 pared, came to the reign of Eichard II., she ex- 
 claimed, "I am Eichard the Second; know ye not 
 that ? " In 1599 Sir John Haywarde was severely 
 censured in the Star Chamber, and committed 
 to prison, for his "History of the First Part 
 of the Life and Eeign of King Henry IV.," 
 which contained an account of the deposition of 
 Eichard. 
 
 There was another play, and not improbably two 
 other plays, on the same subject, extant in Shake- 
 speare's time, but now lost. On the afternoon of 
 
184 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 the day preceding the insurrection of the Earl of 
 Essex in 1601, Sir Gilly Merrick, one of his friends, 
 had a play acted before a company of his fellow- 
 conspirators, the subject of which was "deposing 
 Eichard II." It could scarcely have been Shake- 
 speare's, for it is described as an "obsolete 
 tragedy," and the players are said to have com- 
 plained " that the play was old, and they should 
 have loss in playing it, because few would come 
 to it." 
 
 In the Bodleian Library at Oxford there is a 
 manuscript diary by Dr. Simon Forman, in which 
 allusion is made to a play of Richard 11. acted at 
 the Globe Theatre, April 30, 1611. This play, how- 
 ever, began with Wat Tyler's rebellion, and seems 
 to have differed in other respects from Shake- 
 speare's. 
 
 There is no reason for supposing that Shake- 
 speare was indebted to either of these plays (which 
 some critics suppose to be the same) or to any 
 earlier one on the subject. His principal authority 
 for the historical facts he has used was Holinshed's 
 Chronicles, the first edition of which was published 
 in 1577. The dramatist used the second edition 
 (1586-87), as the withering of the bay-trees, alluded 
 to in ii. 4. 8 (" The bay-trees in our country are all 
 wither'd "), is not found in the first. 
 
 The date of the play is fixed by some of the 
 editors in 1593 and by others in 1594 or 1595. 
 Sidney Lee is probably right in putting it "very 
 
His Dramatic Apprenticeship 185 
 
 early in 1593." He adds: "Marlowe's tempestuous 
 vein is less apparent in Richard II. than in Richard 
 III." but believes the play "was clearly suggested 
 by Marlowe's Edward 11.^^ closely imitating that 
 drama "throughout its exposition of the leading 
 theme — the development and collapse of the weak 
 king's character." 
 
 Though " unsuited for the stage," Coleridge re- 
 garded Richard II. as "the most admirable of all 
 Shakespeare's purely historical plays." He adds: 
 " The two parts of Henry IV. form a species by 
 themselves, which may be named the mixed drama. 
 The distinction does not depend on the mere qual- 
 ity of historical events in the play compared with 
 the fictions — for there is as much history in Mac- 
 beth as in Richard — but in the relation of the his- 
 tory to the plot. In the purely historical plays, the 
 history forms the plot ; in the mixed, it directs it ; 
 in the rest, as Macbeth, Hamlet, Cymbeline, Lear, 
 it subserves it. . . . The spirit of 'patriotic reminis- 
 cence is the all-permeating soul of this noble work. 
 It is, perhaps, the most purely historical of Shake- 
 speare's dramas. There are not in it, as in the 
 others, characters introduced merely for the pur- 
 pose of giving a greater individuality and realness, 
 as in the comic parts of Henry IV., by presenting, 
 as it were, our very selves. Shakespeare avails 
 himself of every opportunity to effect the great 
 object of the historic drama, that, namely, of famil- 
 iarizing the people to the great names of their 
 
1 86 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 country, and thereby of exciting a steady patriot- 
 ism, a love of just liberty, and a respect for all 
 those fundamental institutions of social life which 
 bind men together." 
 
 The date of A Midsummer-Night'' s Dream has been 
 the subject of much controversy, and the decisions 
 of the critics concerning it have been widely diver- 
 gent, ranging from 1590 to 1598 and including every 
 year between. There can, however, be no reason- 
 able doubt that it was one of the earliest of the 
 plays, and that it belongs to the group of comedies 
 already considered. In its present form it is the 
 bright consummate flower of this group, but, though 
 no early title-page refers to it as "corrected," the 
 internal evidence indicates that it was begun at 
 a very early period in Shakespeare's career as a 
 writer and not finished until several years later, or 
 was finished very early and revised several years 
 later. It is remarkable that only two or three of 
 the critics have recognized this fact. Verplanck, in 
 his edition of the play (New York, *1847) was, I 
 believe, the first (he says he does " not know that it 
 has appeared so to any one else") to reckon the 
 play as one of those which " were first written in a 
 comparative immaturity of the author's genius, and 
 afterwards received large alterations and additions." 
 He thinks that "the rhyming dialogue, and the 
 peculiarities of much of the versification in those 
 scenes, the elaborate elegance, the quaint conceits, 
 and artificial refinements of thought in the whole 
 
His Dramatic Apprenticeship 187 
 
 episode (if it may be termed so) of Helena and 
 Hermia and their lovers, certainly partake of the 
 taste and manner of the more juvenile comedies 
 {Love's Labour's Lost, The Two Gentlemen of Verona, 
 etc.], while in other poetic scenes 'the strain we 
 hear is of a higher mood,' and belongs to a period 
 of fuller and more conscious power." He therefore 
 concludes that the play " was originally written in 
 a very different form from that in which we now 
 have it, several years before the date of its present 
 shape," and that it "was subsequently remodelled, 
 after a long interval, with the addition of the heroic 
 personages, and all the dialogue between Oberon 
 and Titania, . . . the rhyming dialogue and the 
 whole perplexity of the Athenian lovers being re- 
 tained, with slight change, from the more boyish 
 comedy." 
 
 Grant White, ten years later (1857), says of the 
 play: "Although as a whole it is the most exqui- 
 site, the daintiest, and most fanciful creation that 
 exists in poetry, and abounds in passages worthy 
 even of Shakespeare in his full maturity, it also 
 contains whole scenes which are hardly worthy of 
 his 'prentice hand that wrought Love's Labour's Lost, 
 The Two Gentlemen of Verona, and The Comedy of 
 Errors, and which yet bear the unmistakable marks 
 of his unmistakable pen. These scenes are the 
 various interviews between Demetrius and Lysan- 
 der, Hermia and Helen, in acts ii. and iii. It is 
 difficult to believe that such lines as 
 
1 88 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 ' Do not say so, Lysander, say not so. 
 
 What though he love your Hermia ? Lord, what though ? ' 
 
 and 
 
 ' When at your hands did I deserve this scorn? 
 Is 't not enough, is 't not enough, young man, 
 That I did never, no, nor never can,' etc. — 
 
 it is difficult to believe that these, and many others 
 of a like character which accompany them, were 
 written by Shakespeare after he had produced even 
 Venus and Adonis and the plays mentioned above, 
 and when he could write the poetry of the other 
 parts of this very comedy. There seems, therefore, 
 warrant for the opinion that this drama was one of 
 the very first conceptions of the young poet; that, 
 living in a rural district where tales of household 
 fairies were rife among his neighbours, memories of 
 these were blended in his youthful reveries with 
 images of the classic heroes that he found in the 
 books which we know he read so eagerly; that per- 
 haps in some midsummer's night he, in very deed, 
 did dream a dream and see a vision of this comedy, 
 and went from Stratford up to London with it 
 partly written ; that, when there, he found it neces- 
 sary at first to forego the completion of it for labour 
 that would find readier acceptance at the theatre; 
 and that afterward, when he had more freedom of 
 choice, he reverted to his early production, and in 
 1594 worked it up into the form in which it was 
 produced." 
 
 I 
 
His Dramatic Apprenticeship 189 
 
 Whetlier this be in all particulars the history of 
 the composition of the play or not, it seems to me 
 the most satisfactory explanation of its peculiarities 
 and inequalities that has been suggested. The 
 crudeness of the versification in the lines that Grant 
 White quotes has no parallel, or anything approach- 
 ing to a parallel, anywhere else in Shakespeare's 
 work. It is difficult, indeed, to believe that he could 
 have written them even in his schoolboy days. It 
 would seem that they must date back to a period 
 many years before he touched up the Titus Andro- 
 nicus (if he had anything to do with that play) or 
 the 1 Henry VI. There is not a line so poor, so 
 thin, so palpably and clumsily padded, in either of 
 those patched-up dramas. If possible, they are 
 worse than the best verses of Francis Bacon. 
 
 A Midsummer-Nighf s Dream was first printed in 
 1600, when quarto editions were brought out by 
 two independent publishers, one of which appears, 
 from internal evidence, to be a reprint of the other. 
 The folio text, the only other early one, followed 
 this second quarto, some of its obvious misprints 
 being copied. 
 
 The plot of the play seems to be the poet's own, 
 except for the few hints he may have got from 
 Chaucer's Knightes Tale and the life of Theseus in 
 North's Plutarch. For the interlude of Pyramus 
 and Thisbe he was doubtless indebted to Golding's 
 translation of Ovid and Chaucer's Legende of Goode 
 Women. Attempts have been made to prove that 
 
190 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 certain poems in wliich Puck, or Eobin Goodf ellow, 
 figures were written before the play, and that 
 Shakespeare used them; but it has been satisfac- 
 torily proved that the play was the earlier. The 
 popularity of the comedy led to the writing up of 
 the old fairy stories by others. Here, as in other 
 instances, Shakespeare had his imitators and plagi- 
 arists, but there is no evidence that he imitated or 
 plagiarized from anybody. As Grant White re- 
 marks, "the plot of A Midsummer-lVighfs Dream 
 has no prototype in ancient story." Oberon, Titania, 
 and Eobin Goodfellow were familiar personages in 
 the popular fairy mythology of the time, but Shake- 
 speare has made them peculiarly his own. He was 
 "the remodeller, and almost the inventor of our 
 fairy system." 
 
 The play, indeed, as Verplanck remarks, "is, in 
 several respects, the most remarkable composition 
 of its author, and has probably contributed more to 
 his general fame, as it has given a more peculiar 
 evidence of the variety and brilliancy of his genius, 
 than any other of his dramas. Not that it is in 
 itself the noblest of his works, or even one of the 
 highest order among them ; but it is not only exqui- 
 site in its kind — it is also original and peculiar in 
 its whole character, and of a class by itself. ... It 
 stands by itself, without any parallel; for The 
 Tempest, which it resembles in its preternatural 
 personages and machinery of the plot, is in other 
 respects wholly dissimilar, is of quite another mood 
 
His Dramatic Apprenticeship 191 
 
 in feeling and thought, and with, perhaps, higher 
 attributes of genius, wants its peculiar fascination. 
 Thus it is that the loss of this singularly beautiful 
 production would, more than that of any other of 
 his works, have abridged the measure of its author's 
 fame, as it would have left us without the means 
 of forming any estimate of the brilliant lightness of 
 his 'forgetive' fancy, in its most sportive and lux- 
 uriant vein. ... It has, in common with all his 
 comedies, a perpetual intermixture of the essen- 
 tially poetical with the purely laughable, yet is 
 distinguished from all the rest by being (as Cole- 
 ridge has happily defined its character) 'one con- 
 tinued specimen of the dramatized lyrical.' Its 
 transitions are as rapid, and the images and scenes 
 it presents to the imagination as unexpected and as 
 remote from each other, as those of the boldest 
 lyric; while it has also that highest perfection of 
 the lyric art, the pervading unity of the poetic 
 spirit — that continued glow of excited thought — 
 which blends the whole rich and strange variety in 
 one common effect of gay and dazzling brilliancy." 
 If Shakespeare did not begin his career as a 
 writer until 1590, this period of his dramatic ap- 
 prenticeship covers at most four years, or until the 
 end of 1594 ; and during this time he revised more 
 or less thoroughly Titus Andronicus and the three 
 parts of Henry VI., and wrote at least seven 
 original plays — Love's Labour's Lost, The Two 
 Gentlemen of Verona, The Comedy of Errors, A Mid- 
 
192 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 summer-Nighf s Dream, Romeo and Juliet, Richard 
 III. and Richard II. The two long poems, Venus 
 and Adonis and Lucrece (to be considered in the next 
 chapter) also belong to this period. To all this 
 some biographers and critics would add all or 
 nearly all of the Sonnets, which Sidney Lee, for 
 instance, assumes to have been written between the 
 spring of 1593 and the autumn of 1594. He also 
 dates King John and The Merchant of Venice in 
 1594. And all this time Shakespeare was actively 
 engaged in his profession as an actor. It seems 
 quite impossible that before the end of 1594 he 
 could have done any of this additional literary 
 work, even if he began to write, as some suppose he 
 did, as early as 1588 or 1589. 
 
 The earliest definite notice of Shakespeare's ap- 
 pearance on the stage that has been discovered is 
 of his having been a player in two comedies acted 
 before Elizabeth, at Greenwich Palace, in December, 
 1594. In the manuscript accounts of the Treasurer 
 of the Chamber we find these entries : "To William 
 Kempe, William Shakespeare, and Eicharde Bur- 
 bage, servauntes to the Lord Chamberleyne, upon 
 the Councelles warrant dated at Whitehall xv.th 
 Marcij, 1594, for twoe severall comedies, or enter- 
 ludes, shewed by them before her Majestie in 
 Christmas tyme laste paste, — viz., upon St. Step- 
 thens daye and Innocentes daye, — xiij. li. vj. s. 
 viij. d., and by waye of her Majesties rewarde vj. 
 li. xiij. s. iiij. d., in all xx. li." . . . "For making 
 
 I 
 
His Dramatic Apprenticeship 193 
 
 ready at Grenewicli for the Qu. Majestie against her 
 Highnes coining th ether, by the space of viij. daies 
 mense Decembr., 1594, as appereth by a bill signed 
 by the Lord Chamberleyne, viij. li. xiij. s. iiij. d." 
 . . . "To Tho: Sheffeilde, under-keaper of her 
 Majesties house at Grenewich for thallowaunce of 
 viij. labourers there three severall nightes, at xij. d. 
 the man by reason it was night-woorke, for making 
 cleane the greate chamber, the Presence, the 
 galleries and clossettes, mense Decembr., 1594, 
 xxiiij. s." 
 
 From this date Shakespeare was never known to 
 write for any other managers than those with whom 
 he was theatrically connected. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 Shakespeare's poems 
 
 The breadth of Shakespeare's literary tastes and 
 aspirations in this 'prentice period of his career is 
 shown by the fact that, just when his reputation 
 as an actor and a dramatist was becoming estab- 
 lished, he published two long narrative poems, Venus 
 and Adonis and Lucrece. 
 
 Venus and Adonis was entered on the Stationers' 
 Registers, April 18th, 1593, and must have been 
 published before June 12th, of that year, as a man- 
 uscript reference to the purchase of a copy of the 
 book has been discovered under that date. 
 
 A second edition appeared before June 25th, 
 1594; and other editions in 1596, 1599, 1600, 1602 
 (two editions), 1617, 1620, 1630 (two editions), and 
 1636. Besides these thirteen editions it is probable 
 that there were others, as only single copies are ex- 
 tant of several of the known issues. Nothing was 
 known of the fourth edition until a copy was dis- 
 covered in 1867, and the single copy of the twelfth 
 has come to light more recently. 
 
 The Lucrece was entered for publication May 9th, 
 1594, and was printed the same year. It was not 
 
 194 
 
Shakespeare's Poems 195 
 
 so popular as the Venus and Adonis, but editions are 
 extant bearing the dates of 1598, 1600, 1607, 1616, 
 1624, 1632, and 1655; and there were probably 
 others of which no copy has been discovered. 
 
 The Venus and Adonis was dedicated to the young 
 Earl of Southampton, apparently without his per- 
 mission, as the poet begins by saying, " I know not 
 how I shall offend in dedicating my unpolished 
 lines to your lordship." He adds a "vow to take 
 advantage of all idle hours " till he can honour his 
 patron " with some graver labour." This promise 
 doubtless refers to the Lucrece which he also dedi- 
 cates to Southampton, and in terms implying that 
 he does it with the earl's permission : " The war- 
 rant I have of your honourable disposition, not the 
 worth of my untutored lines, makes it assured of 
 acceptance. What I have done is yours ; what I 
 have to do is yours ; being part in all I have, de- 
 voted yours." 
 
 Southampton was not quite twenty when the 
 Venus and Adonis was dedicated to him, having been 
 born October 6th, 1573. He was entered at St. 
 John's College, Cambridge, on December 11, 1585, 
 just after he was twelve; took his degree of Master 
 of Arts before he was sixteen, on June 6, 1589; 
 and soon after entered at Gray's Inn, London. He 
 was a ward of Lord Burghley. He became a 
 favourite of Queen Elizabeth's, but lost her favour, 
 in 1595, for making love to Elizabeth Vernon (Es- 
 sex's cousin), whom he married later, in 1598. All 
 
196 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 his life he was a liberal patron of men of letters. 
 He was particularly interested in the drama. In 
 1599 we find a reference to him as " going to plays 
 every day." It may be added that later in life he 
 was engaged in schemes for colonization in Amer- 
 ica. " He helped to equip expeditions to Virginia, 
 and was treasurer of the Virginia Company. The 
 map of the country commemorates his labours as a 
 colonial pioneer. In his honour were named South- 
 ampton Hundred, Hampton River, and Hampton 
 Eoads in Virginia " (Sidney Lee). 
 
 In the dedication of Venus and Adonis Shake- 
 speare calls the poem "the first heir of my inven- 
 tion " — that is, the first product of his imagination. 
 It is a question whether this means that it was writ- 
 ten before any of the plays, or that it was his first 
 distinctively literary work, plays being then re- 
 garded as not belonging to " invention," or literature 
 properly so called. Knight and some others take 
 the expression in its literal sense. Knight, for in- 
 stance, says : " We regard the Venus and Adonis as 
 the production of a very young man, improved, per- 
 haps, considerably in the interval between its first 
 composition and its publication, but distinguished 
 by peculiarities which belong to the wild luxuriance 
 of youthful power, — such power, however, as few 
 besides Shakspere have ever possessed." 
 
 Baynes remarks : " All the facts and probabilities 
 of the case seem however to indicate that the 
 Venus and Adonis, as Shakespeare's earliest con- 
 
Shakespeare's Poems 197 
 
 siderable effort, must have" been produced at Strat- 
 ford some years before the appearance of Lodge's 
 poem. With regard to the internal evidence in sup- 
 port of this view, Mr. Collier says : ' A young man 
 so gifted would not, and could not, wait until he 
 was five or six and twenty before he made consider- 
 able and most successful attempts at poetical com- 
 position ; and we feel morally certain that Venus 
 and Adonis was in being anterior to Shakespeare's 
 quitting Stratford. It bears all the marks of youth- 
 ful vigour, of strong passion, of luxuriant imagi- 
 nation, together with a force and originality of 
 expression which betoken the first efforts of a great 
 mind, not always well regulated in its taste. It 
 seems to have been written in the open air of a fine 
 country like Warwickshire, possessing all the fresh- 
 ness of the recent impression of natural objects; 
 and we will go so far as to say that we do not think 
 even Shakespeare himself could have produced it, 
 in the form it bears, after he had reached the age of 
 forty.' In relation to the last point I should be 
 disposed to go further still, and say that it is very 
 unlikely that Shakespeare either could or would 
 have produced such a poem after he had found in 
 the drama the free use of both his hands — the 
 means of dealing effectively with action as well as 
 passion." 
 
 But Shakespeare in London did not forget — with 
 his love of nature he could not forget — his " woody 
 Warwickshire ; " and in London, as we have seen, 
 
198 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 there were many large gardens, and the suburbs were 
 distinctly rural. The Theatre and the Curtain, 
 just outside the walls, were "in the fields," and 
 wild flowers could be gathered almost at the door 
 of the playhouse. Shakespeare, moreover, was a 
 poet when he began to be a dramatist, and the semi- 
 lyrical character of large portions of his earliest 
 plays, as well as the delight in nature which they 
 show, has been often pointed out by the critics. The 
 poems, like these plays, abound in reminiscences of 
 country life, but it is not necessary to suppose that 
 they, any more than the plays, were actually writ- 
 ten amid the scenes of country life. 
 
 In 1592 the theatres were closed from July to 
 December on account of the plague, and it seems 
 probable that the Venus and Adonis was mainly or 
 wholly written during that half-year when the poet's 
 interest was more or less diverted from dramatic 
 composition into other literary channels. There is 
 a striking allusion to the pestilence in the poem 
 (505-510) : — 
 
 " Long may they kiss each other for this cure ! 
 O, never let their crimson liveries wear ! 
 And as they last, their verdure still endure, 
 To drive infection from the dangerous year I 
 That the star-gazers, having writ on death. 
 May say, the plague is banish'd by thy breath." 
 
 The allusion may have been immediately sug- 
 gested by the practice of strewing rooms with rue 
 
Shakespeare's Poems 199 
 
 and other strong-smelling herbs as a means of pre- 
 venting infection. The reference to the astrologers, 
 predicting death by their horoscopes, is also in keep- 
 ing with the fatal season. 
 
 The title-page of Venus and Adonis bore this 
 motto from the Amoves of Ovid (i. 15. 35, 36) : — 
 
 " Villa miretxir vulgus ; mihi flavus Apollo 
 Pocula Castalia plena ministret aqua ; " 
 
 which Marlowe renders thus : — 
 
 <' Let base conceited wits admire vile things, 
 Fair Phoebus lead me to the Muses' springs 1 " 
 
 The story of the poem was taken from Ovid's 
 Metamorphoses, which had been translated by Gold- 
 ing in 1567 ; but Shakespeare was doubtless famil- 
 iar with it in the original Latin, which he had read 
 in the Stratford grammar school, and to which he 
 probably recurred in Field's edition after he came 
 to London. In the poem he does not follow Ovid 
 very closely. 
 
 The critics of the eighteenth century were in- 
 clined to disparage Shakespeare's poems. Malone, 
 in his concluding remarks upon the Venus and 
 Adonis, and Lucrece, says : " We should do Shak- 
 speare injustice were we to try them by a com- 
 parison with more modern and polished productions, 
 or with our present idea of poetical excellence." 
 Knight, after quoting this, observes: "This was 
 
200 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 written in the year 1780 — the period which re- 
 joiced in the ' polished productions ' of Hayley and 
 Miss Seward, and founded its ' idea of poetical excel- 
 lence ' on some standard which, secure in its conven- 
 tional forms, might depart as far as possible from 
 simplicity and nature, to give us words without 
 thought, arranged in verses without music. It 
 would be injustice indeed to Shakspere to try the 
 Venus and Adonis and Lucrece by such a standard of 
 'poetical excellence.' But we have outlived that 
 period." 
 
 Coleridge was the first to do justice to the merits 
 of the Venus and Adonis. He remarks: "It is 
 throughout as if a superior spirit, more intuitive, 
 more intimately conscious, even than the characters 
 themselves, not only of every outward look and act, 
 but of the flux and reflux of the mind in all its 
 subtlest thoughts and feelings, were placing the 
 whole before our view; himself meanwhile unpar- 
 ticipating in the passions, and actuated only by 
 that pleasurable excitement which had resulted 
 from the energetic fervour of his own spirit in 
 so vividly exhibiting what it had so accurately 
 and profoundly contemplated. . . . His Venus and 
 Adonis seem at once the characters themselves, and 
 the whole representation of those characters by the 
 most consummate actors. You seem to be told 
 nothing, but to see and hear everything. Hence 
 it is, that, from the perpetual activity of attention 
 required on the part of the reader, — from the 
 
Shakespeare's Poems 201 
 
 rapid flow, the quick change, and the playful 
 nature of the thoughts and images, — and, above 
 all, from the alienation, and, if I may hazard such 
 an expression, the utter aloofness of the poet's own 
 feelings from those of which he is at once the 
 painter and the analyst, — that though the very 
 subject cannot but detract from the pleasure of 
 a delicate mind, yet never was poem less dangerous 
 on a moral account." 
 
 Elsewhere the same critic has observed that, " in 
 the Venus and Adonis, the first and most obvious 
 excellence is the perfect sweetness of the versifica- 
 tion; its adaptation to the subject; and the power 
 displayed in varying the march of the words with- 
 out passing into a loftier and more majestic rhythm 
 than was demanded by the thoughts, or permitted 
 by the propriety of preserving a sense of melody 
 predominant." This self - controlling power of 
 "varying the march of the words without passing 
 into a loftier and more majestic rhythm" is per- 
 haps one of the most signal instances . of Shake- 
 speare's consummate mastery of his art, even as 
 a very young man. 
 
 Dowden says of the Venus and Adonis and the 
 Lucrece : " Each is an artistic study ; and they form 
 companion studies — one of female lust and boy- 
 ish coldness, the other of male lust and womanly 
 chastity. Coleridge noticed ' the utter aloofness of 
 the poet's own feelings from those of which he is 
 at once the painter and the analyst ; ' but it can 
 
102 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 hardly be admitted that this aloofness of the poet's 
 own feelings proceeds from a dramatic abandon- 
 ment of self. The subjects of these two poems did 
 not call and choose their poet ; they did not possess 
 him and compel him to render them into art. 
 Rather the poet expressly made choice of the sub- 
 jects, and deliberately set himself down before each 
 to accomplish an exhaustive study of it. . . . And 
 for a young writer of the Renascence, the subject 
 of Shakspere's earliest poem was a splendid one — 
 as voluptuous and unspiritual as that of a classical 
 picture of Titian. It included two figures contain- 
 ing inexhaustible pasture for the fleshly eye, and 
 delicacies and dainties for the sensuous imagina- 
 tion of the Renascence — the enamoured Queen of 
 Beauty, and the beautiful, disdainful boy. It 
 afforded occasion for endless exercises and varia- 
 tions on the themes. Beauty, Lust, and Death. In 
 holding the subject before his imagination, Shak- 
 spere is perfectly cool and collected. He has made 
 choice of the subject, and he is interested in doing 
 his duty by it in the most thorough way a young 
 poet can; but he remains unim passioned — intent 
 wholly upon getting down the right colours and 
 lines upon his canvas." 
 
 Furnivall says: "From whatever source came 
 the impulse to take from Ovid the heated story 
 of the heathen goddess's lust, we cannot forbear 
 noticing how through this stifling atmosphere Shak- 
 spere has blown the fresh breezes of English meads 
 
Shakespeare's Poems 203 
 
 and downs. A Midsummer-Night's Dream itself 
 is not fuller of evidence of Shakspere's intimate 
 knowledge of, and intense delight in, country 
 scenes and sights, whether shown in his descrip- 
 tion of horse and hounds, or in closer touches, like 
 that of the hush of wind before the rain; while 
 such lines as those about the eagle flapping, ' shak- 
 ing its wings ' over its food, send us still to the Zoo- 
 logical Gardens to verify. Two lines there are, 
 reflecting Shakspere's own experience of life — his 
 own early life in London possibly — which we must 
 not fail to note ; they are echoed in Hamlet : — 
 
 < For misery is trodden on by many, 
 And being low, never relieved by any.' 
 
 'Twas a lesson plainly taught by the Elizabethan 
 days, and the Victorian preach it too. It has been 
 the fashion lately to run down the Venus as com- 
 pared with Marlowe's Hero and Leander. Its faults 
 are manifest. It shows less restraint and training 
 than the work of the earlier-ripened Marlowe ; but 
 to me it has a fulness of power and promise of 
 genius enough to make three Marlowes. ... Of 
 possession and promise in Shakspere's first poem, 
 we have an intense love of nature, and a conviction 
 (which never left him) of her sympathy with the 
 moods of men; a penetrating eye; a passionate 
 soul; a striking power of throwing himself into 
 all he sees, and reproducing it living and real to 
 his reader ; a lively fancy, command of words, and 
 
204 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 music of verse; these wielded by a shaping spirit 
 that strives to keep each faculty under one control, 
 and guide it while doing its share of the desired 
 whole." 
 
 Mr. George Wyndham, in his Poems of Shake- 
 speare, is right in declaring that Shakespeare 
 handles his theme with due regard for beauty and 
 " disregard for all that disfigures beauty," and, like 
 Coleridge, defends the poem from the charge of 
 immorality. He says: "Shakespeare portrays an 
 amorous encounter through its every gesture; yet, 
 unless in some dozen lines where he glances aside, 
 like any Mediaeval, at a gaiety not yet divorced 
 from love, his appeal to Beauty persists from first 
 to last; and nowhere is there an appeal to Lust. 
 The laughter and sorrow of the poem belong wholly 
 to the faery world of vision and romance, where 
 there is no sickness, whether of sentiment or of 
 sense. And both are rendered by images, clean-cut 
 as in antique gems, brilliantly enamelled as in 
 mediaeval chalices, numerous and interwoven as 
 in Moorish arabesques; so that their incision, 
 colour, and rapidity of development, apart even 
 from the intricate melodies of the verbal medium 
 in which they live, tax the faculty of artistic ap- 
 preciation to a point where it begins to participate 
 in the asceticism of artistic creation. 'As little can 
 a mind thus roused and awakened be brooded on 
 by mean and indistinct emotion as the low, lazy 
 mist can creep upon the surface of a lake while a 
 
Shakespeare's Poems 205 
 
 strong gale is driving it onward in waves and 
 billows: ' — Thus does Coleridge resist the applica- 
 tion to shift the venue of criticism on this poem 
 from the court of Beauty to the court of Morals, 
 and upon that subject little more can be said. How 
 wilful it is to discuss the moral bearing of an invi- 
 tation couched by an imaginary goddess in such 
 imaginative terms as these : — 
 
 ' Bid me discom"se, I will enchant thine ear, 
 Or, like a fairy, trip upon the green, 
 Or, like a nymph, with long dishevell'd hair, 
 Dance on the sands, and yet no footing seen ! ' . . . 
 
 "When Venus says, 'Bid me discourse, I will 
 enchant thine ear,' she instances yet another pecul- 
 iar excellence of Shakespeare's lyrical art, which 
 shows in this poem, is redoubled in Lucrece, and in 
 the Sonnets yields the most perfect examples of 
 human speech : — 
 
 ' Touch but my lips with those fair lips of thine. 
 Though mine be not so fair, yet are they red. . . . 
 Art thou ashamed to kiss ? Then wink again, 
 And I will wink ; so shall the day seem night.' 
 
 These are the fair words of her soliciting, and 
 Adonis's reply is of the same silvery quality : — 
 
 ' If love have lent you twenty thousand tongues, 
 And every tongue more moving than your own. 
 Bewitching like the wanton mermaid's songs. 
 Yet from mine ear the tempting tune is blown.' 
 
io6 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 And, as he goes on : — 
 
 ' Lest the deceiving harmony shoiild run 
 Into the quiet closure of my breast ; ' 
 
 you catcli a note prelusive to the pleading alterca- 
 tion of the Sonnets. It is the discourse in Venus 
 and Adonis and Lucrece which renders them discur- 
 sive. Indeed they are long poems, on whose first 
 reading Poe's advice, never to begin at the same 
 place, may wisely be followed. You do well, for 
 instance, to begin at stanza 136 — 
 
 [' With this, he breaketh from the sweet embrace 
 
 Of those fair arms which bound him to her breast, 
 
 And homeward through the dark laund runs apace, 
 
 Leaves Love upon her back deeply distress'd. 
 
 Look, how a bright star shooteth from the sky, 
 
 So glides he in the night from Venus' eye.'] — 
 
 in order to enjoy the narrative of Venus's vain pur- 
 suit, with your senses unwearied by the length and 
 sweetness of her argument. The passage hence to 
 the end is in the true romantic tradition: stanzas 
 140 and 141 — 
 
 [* She marking them begins a wailing note 
 And sings extemporally a woeful ditty : 
 How love makes young men thrall and old men dote ; 
 How love is wise in folly, foolish-witty. 
 Her heavy anthem still concludes in woe, 
 And still the choir of echoes answer so. 
 
Shakespeare's Poems 207 
 
 Her song was tedious and outwore the night, 
 For lovers' hours are long, though seeming short; 
 If pleased themselves, others, they think, delight 
 In such-like circumstance, with such-like sport ; 
 Their copious stories oftentimes begun 
 End without audience and are never done.'] — 
 
 are as clearly forerunners of Keats as 144 — 
 
 [' Venus salutes him with this fair good-morrow : 
 " O thou clear god, and patron of all light, 
 From whom each lamp and shining star doth borrow 
 The beauteous influence that makes him bright, 
 There lives a son tHat suck'd an earthly mother, 
 May lend thee light, as thou dost lend to other." '] — 
 
 is the child of Chaucer. The truth of such art 
 consists in magnifying selected details until their 
 gigantic shapes, edged with a shadowy iridescence, 
 fill the whole field of observation. Certain gestures 
 of the body, certain moods of the mind, are made 
 to tell with the weight of trifles during awe-stricken 
 pauses of delay." 
 
 The three sonnets on the story of Venus and 
 Adonis in The Passionate Pilgrim are generally 
 regarded by the critics as preliminary studies for 
 the poem; but it is doubtful whether Shakespeare 
 wrote them. If they are his it is singular that 
 they were not included in the 1609 edition of the 
 Sonnets with the two sonnets (153, 154) on the 
 same subject. Their authenticity may also be ques- 
 tioned from the fact that in one of them the author 
 
2o8 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 ridicules Adonis (" He rose and ran away — ah, fool 
 too f roward ! ") for not yielding to the wiles of 
 Venus. In Shakespeare's poem it is to be noted 
 that nothing like this occurs. In the line (578), 
 " The poor fool prays her that he may depart," the 
 context proves that " fool " is used in a sympathetic 
 pitying way; as "poor fool" is in at least eight 
 passages in the plays — so also "good fool" and 
 "pretty fool." The behaviour of Adonis is indi- 
 rectly approved by the poet, while that of Venus 
 is, again and again, directly condemned; as, for 
 instance, in lines 555-558 : — ^ 
 
 " Her face doth reek and smoke, her blood doth boil, 
 And careless lust stirs up a desperate courage ; 
 Planting oblivion, beating reason back, 
 Forgetting shame's pure blush and honour's wrack." 
 
 Adonis himself is eloquent in his denunciations of 
 her sensuality and her sophistry (787 fol.), and 
 Shakespeare speaks through him as truly as in the 
 129th sonnet : — 
 
 " ' What have you urged that I cannot reprove ? 
 
 The path is smooth that leadeth on to danger : 
 
 I hate not love, but your device in love, 
 
 That lends embracements unto every stranger. 
 
 You do it for increase ; O strange excuse, 
 
 When reason is the bawd to lust's abuse ! 
 
 ' Call it not love, for Love to heaven is fled, 
 Since sweating Lust on earth usurp'd his name ; 
 
Shakespeare's Poems 209 
 
 Under whose simple semblance he hath fed 
 Upon fresh beauty, blotting it with blame ; 
 
 Which the hot tyrant stains and soon bereaves, 
 
 As caterpillars do the tender leaves. 
 
 * Love comf orteth like sunshine after rain, 
 But Lust's effect is tempest after sun ; 
 Love's gentle spring doth always fresh remain, 
 Lust's winter comes ere summer half be done ; 
 
 Love sm-feits not, Lust like a glutton dies ; 
 
 Love is all truth, Lust full of forged lies,' " 
 
 It is significant, moreover, that the goddess is not 
 successful in her lustful wooing, as other authors 
 (except Ovid) represent, bringing Adonis back from 
 Hades to be with her. 
 
 That the poem was considered somewhat objec- 
 tionable even in Shakespeare's day is evident from 
 certain contemporaneous references to it. Halli- 
 well-Phillipps quotes A Mad World my Masters, 
 1608 : " I have convay'd away all her wanton pam- 
 phlets, as Hero and Leander, Venus and Adonis;" 
 and John. Davies, who in his Papers Complaint 
 (found in his Scourge of Folly, 1610) makes " Paper " 
 admit the superlative excellence of Shakespeare's 
 poem, but at the same time censure its being "at- 
 tired in such bawdy geare." It is also stated that 
 "the coyest dames in private read it for their 
 closset-games." In The Dumbe Knight, 1608, the 
 lawyer's clerk refers to it as "maides philosophies " 
 and the stanza beginning with line 229 ("'Fond- 
 
210 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 ling/ she saith, ' since I have hemm'd thee here/ " 
 etc.) is quoted both in that play and in Hey wood's 
 Fayre Mayd of the Exchange, 1607. 
 
 The main incidents of the Lucrece were doubtless 
 familiar to Shakespeare from his school-days; and 
 they had been used again and again in poetry and 
 prose : in Latin by Ovid, Dionysius Halicarnassus, 
 Diodorus Siculus, Dio Cassius, and Valerius Maxi- 
 mus ; and in English by Chaucer (in his Legende of 
 Goode Women), by Lydgate (Falles of Princes'), and 
 by Paynter (Palace of Pleasure), to say nothing of 
 "balletts" on the subject entered in the Stationers' 
 Eegisters in 1568, 1570, and 1576. 
 
 The greater maturity shown in the poem, though 
 published only a year after Venus and Adonis, cer- 
 tainly tends to support the theory that the latter 
 was largely written some years before its publica^ 
 tion, though probably not completed until 1592. 
 Knight, indeed, goes so far as to say : " There is to 
 our mind the difference of eight or even ten years 
 in the aspect of these poems — a difference as man- 
 ifest as that which exists between Love's Labour's 
 Lost and Romeo and Juliet" Coleridge remarks : 
 " The Venus and Adonis did not perhaps allow the 
 display of the deeper passions. But the story of 
 Lucretia seems to favour, and even demand, their 
 intensest workings. And yet we find in Shake- 
 speare's management of the tale neither pathos nor 
 any other dramatic quality. There is the same 
 minute and faithful imagery as in the former poem, 
 
Shakespeare's Poems 211 
 
 in the same vivid colours, inspirited by the same 
 impetuous vigour of thought, and diverging and 
 contracting with the same activity of the assimila- 
 tive and of the modifying faculties; and with a 
 yet larger display, a yet wider range of knowledge 
 and reflection; and, lastly, with the same perfect 
 dominion, often domination, over the whole world 
 of language." 
 
 Baynes, in his comments on "the profounder 
 ethical and reflective aspects" of the two poems, 
 observes: "It may justly be said that if Shake- 
 speare follows Ovid in the narrative and descriptive 
 part of his work, in the vivid picturing of sensuous 
 passion, he is as decisively separated from him in 
 the reflective part, the higher purpose and ethical 
 significance of the poems. The underlying subject 
 in both is the same, the debasing nature and de- 
 structive results of the violent sensuous impulses, 
 which in antiquity so often usurped the name of 
 love, although in truth they have little in common 
 with the nobler passion. The influence of fierce 
 inordinate desire is dealt with by Shakespeare in 
 these poems in all its breadth as affecting both 
 sexes, and in all its intensity as blasting the most 
 sacred interests and relationships of life. In work- 
 ing out the subject, Shakespeare shows his thorough 
 knowledge of its sedxictive outward charm, of the 
 arts and artifices, the persuasions and assaults, the 
 raptures and languors of stimulated sensual pas- 
 sion. In this he is quite a match for the erotic 
 
212 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 and elegiac poets of classic times, and especially of 
 Koman literature. He is not likely therefore in 
 any way to undervalue the attraction or the power 
 of what they celebrate in strains so fervid and rap- 
 turous. But, while contemplating the lower pas- 
 sion steadily in all its force and charm, he has at 
 the same time the higher vision which enables him 
 to see through and beyond it, the reflective insight 
 to measure its results, and to estimate with re- 
 morseless accuracy its true worth. It is in this 
 higher power of reflective insight, in depth and 
 vigour of thought as well as feeling, that Shake- 
 speare's earliest efforts are marked off even from 
 the better works of those whom he took, if not as 
 his masters, at least as his models and guides. He 
 was himself full of rich and vigorous life, deepened 
 by sensibilities of the rarest strength and delicacy; 
 and in early youth had realized, in his own experi- 
 ence, the impetuous force of passionate impulses. 
 But his intellectual power no less than the essential 
 depth and purity of his nobler emotional nature 
 would effectually prevent his ever becoming 'soft 
 fancy's slave.' 
 
 " In the very earliest poem we have from Shake- 
 speare's pen this higher note of the modern world 
 is clearly sounded — the note that ' Love is Lord of 
 all,' and that love is something infinitely higher and 
 more divine than the lawless vagrant passion which 
 in pagan times passed under that name. To the 
 modern mind, while the latter is blind, selfish, and 
 
Shakespeare's Poems 213 
 
 often brutal in proportion to its strength, the former 
 is full of sympathy and self-abnegation, of an almost 
 sacred ardour and gentleness, humility and devotion, 
 the very heart and crown of life." 
 
 Further on, after quoting the stanzas (787 fol.) 
 given above, in which Adonis reproaches Venus for 
 her sensuality, Baynes remarks : " In this reproof 
 of the pagan goddess of love, the higher note of the 
 modern world is struck fully and clearly. It is 
 repeated with tragic emphasis in the Lucrece, deep- 
 ened in the So?i7iets, and developed through all the 
 gracious range of higher female characters in the 
 dramas. Nowhere indeed is the vital difference in 
 the social axes of the ancient and modern world 
 more vividly seen, than in the contrast between the 
 Lesbias, Delias, and Corinnas of Roman poetry, and 
 the Mirandas, Portias, and Imogens of Shakespeare's 
 dramas. In the one we have the monotonous ardours 
 and disdains, the gusts and glooms, the tricks and 
 artifices belonging to the stunted life of lower im- 
 pulse ; in the other, the fadeless beauty and grace, 
 the vivacity and intelligence, the gentleness and 
 truth of perfect womanhood." 
 
 Aside from Venus and Adonis, Lucrece, and the 
 Sonnets (which will be discussed in another chap- 
 ter), the only poems ascribed to Shakespeare which 
 are quite certainly his are A Lover's Complaint and 
 The Phoenix and the Turtle. 
 
 A Lover's Complaint was first published with the 
 Sonnets in 1609. There is no external evidence for 
 
214 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 determining when it was written, but the internal 
 evidence of style and treatment indicates that it was 
 later than Lucrece. It is in the same seven-lined 
 stanza as that poem, and shows a " marked decrease 
 in the use of antithesis and verbal paradox, and so 
 far points to a refinement in taste ; " but there is 
 nothing in the treatment of the subject — the lament 
 of a girl who has been betrayed by a deceitful youth 
 — which shows any noteworthy advance in other 
 respects. The Spenserian flavour of the poem has 
 been often noted by the critics, Malone remarks 
 that it reads like a challenge to Spenser on his own 
 ground. As Mr. Verity observes (" Henry Irving " 
 edition of Shakespeare), " it has much of Spenser's 
 stately pathos and sense of physical beauty, and 
 exquisite verbal melody." It appears to be an early 
 exercise in the style of that poet, whose Complaints : 
 containing Sundry Small PoeTns of the World's Van- 
 ity was published in 1591. These opening lines of 
 The Ruins of Time in that volume have been com- 
 pared with those of A Lover's Complahit : — 
 
 " A woman sitting sorrowfully wailing, 
 Bending her yellow locks like wiry gold, 
 About her shoulders carelessly down trailing, 
 And streams of tears from her fair eyes forth railing ; 
 In her right hand a broken rod she held, 
 Which towards heaven she seemed on high to weld." 
 
 The Phoenix and the Turtle must have been written 
 before 1601, when it was printed with Chester's 
 
Shakespeare's Poems 215 
 
 Love's Martyr and ascribed to Shakespeare. The 
 title-page of the book, after referring at some length 
 to that poem and " the true legend of famous King 
 Arthur,^'' which follows it, continues thus : — 
 
 " To these are added some new compositions of seu- 
 erall moderne Writers whose names are subscribed to 
 their seuerall workes, vpon the first subiect : viz. the 
 Phoenix and Turtle." 
 
 The part of the book containing these " composi- 
 tions " has a separate title-page, as follows : — 
 
 " Hereafter Follow Diverse Poeticall Essaies 
 on the former Subiect ; viz : the Turtle and Phoenix. 
 Done by the best and chief est of our moderne writers, 
 with their names subscribed to their particular 
 workes : neuer before extant. And (now first) con- 
 secrated by them all generally, to the hue and merite 
 of the true-noble Knight, Sir lohn Salisburie. Dig- 
 num laude virum Musa vetat mori. [wood-cut of 
 anchor] Anchora Spei. MDCI." 
 
 Among these poems are some by Marston, Chap- 
 man, and Ben Jonson. 
 
 Malone had no doubt of the genuineness of The 
 Fhoenix and the Turtle, but a few of the recent 
 critics have been less confident of its authorship. 
 Grant White says: "There is no other external 
 evidence that these verses are Shakespeare's than 
 their appearance with his signature in a collection 
 of poems published in London while he was living 
 there in the height of his reputation. The style, 
 however, is at least a happy imitation of his, espe- 
 
11 6 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 cially in the bold and original use of epithet." 
 Dowden, in his Primer (1878), says: "That it is 
 his seems in a high degree doubtful ; " but, some 
 years later, in a letter to the present writer, he said 
 that he had no longer any doubt that the poem is 
 Shakespeare's. 
 
 There is one point in favour of this view which 
 apparently has been overlooked by the critics; 
 namely, that Chester's book was not a publisher's 
 piratical venture, like The Passionate Pilgrim, but 
 the reputable work of a gentleman who would 
 hardly have ventured to insult his patron to whom 
 he dedicates it, by palming off anonymous verses as 
 the contribution of a well-known poet of the time, 
 who was residing in London in 1601 when it ap- 
 peared. 
 
 Ralph Waldo Emerson, in the preface to his Par- 
 nassus (1875) remarks : " I should like to have the 
 Academy of Letters propose a prize for an essay on 
 Shakespeare's poem, Let the bird of loudest lay, and 
 the Threnos with which it closes, the aim of the 
 essay being to explain, by a historical research into 
 the poetic myths and tendencies of the age in which 
 it was written, the frame and allusions of the poem. 
 I have not seen Chester's Love's Martyr and 'the 
 Additional Poems' (1601), in which it appeared. 
 Perhaps that book will suggest all the explanation 
 this poem requires. To unassisted readers, it would 
 appear to be a lament on the death of a poet, and of 
 his poetic mistress. But the poem is so quaint, and 
 
Shakespeare's Poems 217 
 
 charming in diction, tone, and allusions, and in its 
 perfect metre and harmony, that I would gladly 
 have the fullest illustration yet attainable. I con- 
 sider this piece a good example of the rule that 
 there is a poetry for bards proper, as well as a 
 poetry for the world of readers. This poem, if pub- 
 lished for the first time, and without a known 
 author's name, would find no general reception. 
 Only the poets would save it." 
 
 Halliwell-Phillipps says: "It was towards the 
 close of the present year, 1600, or at some time in 
 the following one, that Shakespeare, for the first and 
 only time, came forward in the avowed character of 
 a philosophical writer." After giving an account 
 of Chester's book, he adds : " The contribution of 
 the great dramatist is a remarkable poem in which 
 he makes a notice of the obsequies of the phoenix 
 and turtle-dove subservient to the delineation of 
 spiritual union. It is generally thought that Ches- 
 ter himself intended a personal allegory, but, if 
 that be the case, there is nothing to indicate that 
 Shakespeare participated in the design, nor even 
 that he had endured the punishment of reading 
 Love's Martyr." 
 
 All the other poems included in the standard edi- 
 tions of Shakespeare's works are from The Passion- 
 ate Pilgrim, which was first printed in 1599, with 
 the following title-page : — 
 
 "The Passionate Pilgrime. By W. Shake- 
 speare. At London Printed for W. laggard, and are 
 
21 8 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 to be sold by W. Leake, at the Greyhound in Paules 
 Churchyard. 1699." 
 
 In the middle of sheet C is a second title : — 
 
 " Sonnets To sundry notes of Musicke. At Lon- 
 don Printed for W. laggard, and are to be sold by 
 W. Leake, at the Greyhound in Paules Churchyard. 
 1599." 
 
 The book was reprinted in 1612, together with 
 some poems by Thomas Heywood, the whole being 
 attributed to Shakespeare. The title at first stood 
 thus : — 
 
 " The Passionate Pilgkime. or Certaine Amorous 
 Sonnets, betweene Venus and Adonis, newly corrected 
 and augmented. By W. Shakespere. The third 
 Edition. Whereunto is newly added two Loue- 
 Epistles, the first from Paris to Hellen, and Hellens 
 answere backe againe to Paris. Printed by W. 
 laggard. 1612." 
 
 The Bodleian copy of this edition contains the 
 following note by Malone: "All the poems from 
 Sig. D. 5 were written by Thomas Heywood, who 
 was so offended at Jaggard for printing them under 
 the name of Shakespeare that he has added a post- 
 script to his Apology for Actors, 4to, 1612, on this 
 subject; and Jaggard in consequence of it appears 
 to have printed a new title-page to please Heywood, 
 without the name of Shakespeare in it. The former 
 title-page was no doubt intended to be cancelled, 
 but by some inadvertence they were both prefixed 
 to this copy and I have retained them as a curios- 
 
Shakespeare's Poems 219 
 
 ity." The corrected title-page is substantially as 
 above, omitting " By W. Shakespere.^^ 
 
 It will be observed that this is called the third 
 edition; but no other between 1599 and 1612 is 
 known to exist. 
 
 The book contained five poems that are known to 
 be Shakespeare's : Sonnets 138 and 144 ; Longaville's 
 sonnet in Love's Labour'' s Lost (iv. 3. 60 f ol.) ; " If 
 love make me forsworn," etc. (iv. 2. 109 fol.); and 
 " On a day — alack the day ! " etc. (iv. 3. 101 fol.) 
 in the same play. Of the three sonnets on Venus 
 and Adonis (see page 207 above), one (" Venus, with 
 young Adonis," etc.) was probably by Bartholomew 
 Griffin, in whose Fidessa more Chaste than Kinde it 
 had appeared in 1596. It is improbable that the 
 others are Shakespeare's. Several other poems in 
 the book have been traced to their authors; and 
 among the rest there are none that can have been 
 written by Shakespeare. 
 
 Swinburne, in his Study of Shakespeare, remarks : 
 "What Coleridge said of Ben Jonson's epithet for 
 * turtle-footed peace,' we may say of the label affixed 
 to this rag-picker's bag of stolen goods : The Pas- 
 sionate Pilgrim is a pretty title, a very pretty title ; 
 pray, what may it mean ? In all the larcenous little 
 bundle of verse there is neither a poem which bears 
 that name nor a poem by which that name would be 
 bearable. The publisher of the booklet was like 
 ' one Ragozine, a most notorious pirate ; ' and the 
 method no less than the motive of his rascality in 
 
220 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 the present instance is palpable and simple enough. 
 Fired by the immediate and instantly proverbial 
 popularity of Shakespeare's Venus and Adonis, he 
 hired, we may suppose, some ready hack of unclean 
 hand to supply him with three doggrel sonnets on 
 the same subject, noticeable only for the porcine 
 quality of prurience ; he procured by some means a 
 rough copy or an incorrect transcript of two genuine 
 and unpublished sonnets by Shakespeare, which 
 with the acute instinct of a felonious tradesman he 
 laid atop of his worthless wares by way of gilding 
 to their base metal; he stole from the two years 
 published text of Love's Labour's Lost, and repro- 
 duced, with more or less mutilation or corruption, 
 the sonnet of Longaville, the 'canzonet' of Biron, 
 and the far lovelier love-song of Dumain. The rest 
 of the ragman's gatherings, with three most notable 
 exceptions, is little better for the most part than 
 dry rubbish or disgusting refuse ; unless a plea may 
 haply be put in for the pretty commonplaces of the 
 lines on a ' sweet rose, fair flower,' and so forth ; for 
 the couple of thin and pallid if tender and tolerable 
 copies of verse on 'Beauty' and 'Good Night,' or 
 the passably light and lively stray of song on 
 ' crabbed age and youth.' I need not say that those 
 three exceptions are the stolen and garbled work of 
 Marlowe and of Barnfield, our elder Shelley and our 
 first-born Keats : the singer of Cynthia in verse 
 well worthy of Endymion, who would seem to have 
 died as a poet in the same fatal year of his age that 
 
Shakespeare's Poems 221 
 
 Keats died as a man; the first adequate English, 
 laureate of the nightingale, to be supplanted or 
 equalled by none until the advent of his mightier 
 brother." 
 
 In 1640 a volume was published with the fol- 
 lowing title : — 
 
 " Poems : Written by Wil. Skake-speare. Gent. 
 Printed at London by Tho. Cotes, and are to be sold 
 by lohn Benson, dwelling in S'. Dunstans Church- 
 yard. 1640." 
 
 It contains the Sonnets (with the exception of 
 eight) ; The Passionate Pilgrim (all the poems, not 
 merely "some," as both the first and the revised 
 " Cambridge " editions state ; or " the greater part," 
 as Knight and others give it) ; The Phoenix and the 
 Turtle ; the lines, " Why should this a desert be," 
 etc. (As You Lihe It, iii. 2. 133 fol.) ; " Take, take 
 those lips away " (Measure for Measure, iv. 1; 1 fol.) ; 
 and A Lover's Complaint ; with some translations 
 from Ovid and other pieces, all falsely ascribed to 
 Shakespeare. Venus and Adonis and Lucrece are 
 not included in the volume. 
 
 The first complete edition of Shakespeare's Poems, 
 including the Sonnets, was issued (according to 
 Lowndes, Bibliographer'' s Manual) in 1709, with the 
 following title : — 
 
 "A Collection of Poems, in Two Volumes; Being 
 all the Miscellanies of Mr. William Shakespeare, 
 which were Publish'd by himself in the Year 1609, 
 and now correctly Printed from those Editions. The 
 
222 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 First Volume contains, I. Venus and Adonis. II. 
 The Eape of Luceecb. III. The Passionate Pil- 
 grim. IV. Some Sonnets set to sundry JSTotes of 
 Musick. The Second Volume contains One Hun- 
 dred and Fifty Four Sonnets, all of them in Praise 
 of his Mistress. II. A Lover's Complaint of his 
 Angry Mistress. LONDON: Printed for Bernard 
 Lintott, at the Cross-Keys, between the Two Temple- 
 Gates in Fleet-street. '''' 
 
 The editor of this collection evidently did not 
 know that most of the Sonnets were addressed to a 
 man, and that the " lover " of A Lover's Complaint 
 was a woman. 
 
CHAPTEE X. 
 
 THE PERIOD OF THE ENGLISH HISTORICAL PLATS 
 
 King John, though first printed in the folio of 
 1623, was written, as internal evidence indicates, 
 at about the same time as Bichard 11. y and it is 
 probable that it followed rather than preceded that 
 play. We cannot be far wrong if, with Furnivall, 
 we assign it to the year 1595. Dowden also says : 
 " The chief point of difference with respect to form 
 is that Richard II. contains a much larger proportion 
 of rhymed verse, and on the whole we shall not 
 perhaps err in regarding Richard II. as the earlier 
 of the two." Fleay makes the date 1596, seeing in 
 ii. 1. 66-75, as others have done, an allusion to the 
 fleet sent against Spain in that year : — 
 
 " And all the unsettled humours of the land, 
 Rash, inconsiderate, fiery voluntaries, 
 With ladies' faces and fierce dragons' spleens, 
 Have sold their fortunes at their native homes, 
 Bearing their birthrights proudly on their backs, 
 To make a hazard of new fortunes here. 
 In brief, a braver choice of dauntless spirits 
 Than now the English bottoms have waft o'er 
 
 223 
 
224 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Did never float upon the swelling tide, 
 To do offence and scath in Christendom." 
 
 He believes also that "the laments of Constance 
 for Arthur's death (iii. 4) were inspired by Shake- 
 speare's sorrow for his heir and only son, Hamnet, 
 vs^hom he lost August 12, 1596." 
 
 King John varies from the facts of history more 
 than any other play of the English series, being 
 founded upon an earlier drama published in 1591 
 with the following title-page : — 
 
 " THE I Troublesome Eaigne | of lohn King of 
 England, with the dis- | couerie of King Kichard 
 Cordelions | Base sonne (vulgarly named. The 
 Ba- I stard Eawconbridge) : also the | death of King 
 lohn at Sivinstead \ Abbey. \ As it was (sundry times) 
 puhlikely acted by the \ Queenes Maiesties Players, in 
 the ho- I nourable Citie of | London. Imprinted at 
 London for Sampson Clarke, | and are to be solde at 
 his shop, on the backe- | side of the Royall Exchange. 
 I 1591." 
 
 In 1611 this play was reprinted with " Written 
 by W. Sh." added to the title-page ; and in a third 
 edition, brought out in 1622, it was ascribed to " W. 
 Shakespeare." This was doubtless a mere trick of 
 the publishers to help the sale of the book, as the 
 style proves conclusively that Shakespeare had no 
 part in its authorship. 
 
 While the poet follows this old play in the out- 
 lines of his plot, and occasionally borrows its Ian- 
 
The English Historical Plays 225 
 
 guage, his real iadebtedness to it is comparatively- 
 slight. The main incidents are the same, but the 
 characters are almost re-created. "Artistically- 
 considered, Shakespeare took in the outward design 
 of the piece, blended both parts into one, adhered 
 to the leading features of the characters, and 
 finished them with finer touches." 
 
 Furnivall remarks : " Shakspere alters the old 
 play ... in order to bring it closer home to his 
 hearers and the circumstances of the time, — the 
 disputed succession of Elizabeth, and the inter- 
 ference of Spain and the Pope. The old play-writer 
 made the murder of Arthur the turning-point be- 
 tween the high-spirited success of John at first and 
 his dejection and disgrace at last; and he, too, 
 fixed on the assertion of national independence 
 against invading Frenchmen and encroaching eccle- 
 siastics as the true principle of dramatic action of 
 John's time. So long as John is the impersonator 
 of England, of defiance to the foreigner, and opposi- 
 tion to the Pope, so long is he a hero. . . . His 
 death, ought, of course, dramatically to have fol- 
 lowd from some act of his in the play, as revenge 
 for the murder of Arthur, or his plundering the 
 abbots or abbeys, or opposing the Pope. The 
 author of The Troublesome Raigne, with a true in- 
 stinct, made a monk murder John out of revenge for 
 his anti-papal patriotism. But Shakspere, unfortu- 
 nately, set this story aside, though there -was some 
 ■warrant for it in Holinshed, and thus left a serious 
 
226 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 blot on his drama wllich it is impossible to remove. 
 The character which to me stands foremost in 
 John is Constance, with that most touching expres- 
 sion of grief for the son she had lost. Beside her 
 cry, the tender pleading of Arthur for his life is 
 heard, and both are backed by the rough voice of 
 Falxjonbridge, who. Englishman-like, depreciates his 
 own motives at first, but is lifted by patriotism into 
 a gallant soldier, while his deep moral nature 
 shows itself in his heartfelt indignation at Arthur's 
 supposd murder. The rhetoric of the earlier his- 
 torical plays is kept up in King John, and also 
 Shakspere's power of creating situations, which he 
 had possessed from the first." 
 
 The Merchant of Venice may have been Shake- 
 speare's next play. It has been dated as early as 
 1594 and as late as 1598, but 1596 or 1597 seems 
 more probable. It was entered for publication on 
 the Stationers' Registers thus : — 
 
 "22 July, 1598, James Eobertes.] A booke of 
 the Marchaunt of Venyce, or otherwise called the 
 Jewe of Venyse. Provided that yt bee not prynted 
 by the said James Eobertes, or anye other whatso- 
 ever, without lycence first had from the right hon- 
 ourable the Lord Chamberlen." 
 
 The company of players to which Shakespeare 
 belonged, and for which he wrote, were "the Lord 
 Chamberlain's Servants ; " and the above order was 
 meant to prohibit the publication of the play until 
 the patron of the company should give his permis- 
 
The English Historical Plays 11"] 
 
 sion. This he appears not to have done until two 
 years later, when the following entry was made in 
 the Register : — 
 
 " 28 Oct., 1600, Tho. Haies.] The booke of the 
 Merchant of Venyce." 
 
 Soon after this entry, or before the end of 1600, 
 the play was published by Haies (or Heyes) ; and 
 another edition was brought out by Roberts in the 
 same year. The play, so far as known, was not 
 printed again until it appeared in the folio of J623, 
 
 Henslowe's Diary, under the date "25 of aguste, 
 1594," records the performance of "the Venesyon 
 comodey," which is marked ne, as a new play. Some 
 critics take this to be The Merchant of Venice, as 
 Shakespeare belonged to the company then acting 
 in the theatre of which Henslowe was chief mana- 
 ger ; but the play shows a decided advance on any 
 of the other work assigned to that period, which, 
 moreover, as we have seen, includes so much other 
 work of Shakespeare's, dramatic and poetical, that 
 nothing more can in reason be added to it. Sidney 
 Lee assumes that the "Venesyon comodey" "was 
 probably the earliest version of The Merchant of 
 Venice,'^ and that " it was revised later ; " but there 
 is not the slightest internal evidence that the play 
 was ever revised. 
 
 The main plot of the drama is composed of two 
 distinct stories : that of the bond, and that of the 
 caskets. Both are found in the Gesta Romanorum, 
 which had been translated into English as early as 
 
228 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 the time of Henry VI. Shakespeare, however, 
 appears to have been indebted, directly or indirectly, 
 for the incidents connected with the bond to a story 
 in U Pecorone, a collection of tales by Giovanni 
 Fiorentino, first published at Milan in 1558, though 
 written nearly two centuries earlier. In this story 
 we have a rich lady at Belmont, who is to be won 
 on certain conditions ; and she is finally the prize 
 of a young merchant, whose friend, having become 
 surety for him to a Jew under the same penalty as 
 in the play, is rescued from the forfeiture by the 
 adroitness of the married lady, who is disguised as 
 a lawyer. The pretended judge receives, as in the 
 comedy, her marriage ring as a gratuity, and after- 
 wards banters her husband, in the same way, upon 
 the loss of it. An English translation of the book 
 was extant in Shakespeare's time. 
 
 It is probable, however, that the legends of the 
 bond and the caskets had been blended in dramatic 
 form before Shakespeare began to write for the 
 stage. Stephen Gosson, a Puritan author, in his 
 Schoole of Abuse, published in 1579, excepts a few 
 plays from the sweeping condemnation of his " pies- 
 aunt inuective against Poets, Pipers, Plaiers, Jest- 
 ers, and such-like caterpillers of a Commonwelth." 
 Among these exceptions he mentions " The Jew, and 
 Ptolome, showne at the Bull ; the one representing 
 the greedinesse of worldly chusers, and the bloody 
 TTiinds of usurers ; the other very lively describing 
 howe seditious estates with their owne devises, false 
 
The English Historical Plays 229 
 
 friends with their owne swoords, and rebellious 
 commons in their owne snares, are overthrowne." 
 We have no other knowledge of this play of The 
 Jew ; but the nationality of its hero and the double 
 moral, agreeing so exactly with that of The Mer- 
 chant of Venice, render it probable that the plots of 
 the two dramas were essentially the same, and that 
 Shakespeare in this instance, as in others, worked 
 upon some rough model already prepared for him. 
 Be this as it may, Shakespeare's indebtedness to 
 his predecessors, as in all siniilar instances, is insig- 
 nificant. The characters, the poetry, the sentiment 
 — everything that makes the play what it is — are 
 his, and his alone. As Grant White remarks, " the 
 people are puppets, and the incidents are all in 
 these old stories. They are mere bundles of barren 
 sticks that the poet's touch causes to bloom like 
 Aaron's rod : they are heaps of dry bones till he 
 clothes them with human flesh and breathes into 
 them the breath of life. Antonio, grave, pensive, 
 prudent save in his devotion to his young kinsman, 
 as a Christian hating the Jew, as a royal merchant 
 despising the usurer; Bassanio, lavish yet provi- 
 dent, a generous gentleman although a fortune- 
 seeker, wise although a gay gallant, and manly 
 though dependent; Gratiano, who unites the not 
 too common virtues of thorough good nature and 
 unselfishness with the sometimes not unserviceable 
 fault of talking for talk's sake ; Shylock, crafty and 
 cruel, whose revenge is as mean as it is fierce and 
 
230 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 furious, whose abuse never rises to invective, and 
 who has yet some dignity of port as the avenger of 
 a nation's wrongs, some claim upon our sympathy 
 as a father outraged by his only child ; and Portia, 
 matchless impersonation of that rare woman who is 
 gifted even more in intellect than loveliness, and 
 who yet stops gracefully short of the offence of 
 intellectuality — these, not to notice minor charac- 
 ters no less perfectly organized or completely devel- 
 oped after their kind — these, and the poetry which 
 is their atmosphere, and through which they beam 
 upon us, all radiant in its golden light, are Shake- 
 speare's only ; and these it is, and not the incidents 
 of old and, but for these, forgotten tales, that make 
 The Merchant of Venice a priceless and imperishable 
 dower to the queenly city that sits enthroned upon 
 the sea — a dower of romance more bewitching than 
 that of her moonlit waters and beauty-laden bal- 
 conies, of -adornment more splendid than that of 
 her pictured palaces, of human interest more endur- 
 ing than that of her blood-stained annals, more 
 touching even than the sight of her faded gran- 
 deur." 
 
 The First Part of King Henry the Fourth was 
 probably written at about the same time as The 
 Merchant of Venice ; or, as the editors almost unan- 
 imously decide, in 1596 or 1597. It was entered 
 on the Stationers' Registers on the 25th of February, 
 1597-8 as "a booke intituled The historye of 
 Henry the iiij* with his battaile of Shrewsburye 
 
The English Historical Plays 231 
 
 against Henry Hottspurre of tlie ISTorthe with the 
 conceipted mirthe of Sir John ffalstoff ; " and a 
 quarto edition was printed in 1598. A second 
 quarto was brought out in 1599, followed by others 
 in 1604, 1608, and 1613. Each of these appears to 
 have been printed from its predecessor; and a par- 
 tially corrected copy of the last in the series seems 
 to have furnished the text of the play for the folio 
 of 1623. Subsequent editions in quarto were 
 printed in 1622 (probably too late for the folio 
 editors), 1632, and 1639. 
 
 The historical materials of the play, as of 2 Henry 
 IV. and Henry V., were drawn from Holinshed's 
 Chronicles and from the old play of The Famous 
 Victories of Henry the Fifth. A Sir John Oldcastle 
 appears in the latter as one of Prince Henry's wild 
 companions. That the poet adopted the name is 
 evident from allusions of subsequent writers, from 
 the circumstance that in the first (1600) quarto 
 edition of 2 Henry IV. the prefix " Old.''^ is found 
 before one of Ealstaff's speeches, and from Henry's 
 calling the knight "my old lad of the castle " (i. 2. 
 38). In 2 Henry IV. (iii. 2. 28), moreover, Ealstaff 
 is said to have been " page to Thomas Mowbray, 
 Duke of Norfolk," which the historical Oldcastle 
 actually was. This Oldcastle is better known as 
 Lord Cobham, the Lollard martyr. Shakespeare 
 changed the name because he did not wish to offend 
 the Protestants nor to please the Roman Catholics. 
 He refers to the alteration in the epilogue to 
 
232 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 2 Henry IV. where, after intimating that he may 
 bring Falstaff on the stage again, where he " shall 
 die of a sweat," he adds: "for Oldcastle died a 
 martyr, and this is not the man." 
 
 In the Palladia Tamia, or Wits Treasury, by 
 Francis Meres, published in 1598, 1 Henry IV. is 
 one of twelve plays of Shakespeare enumerated 
 in a famous passage which may be appropriately 
 quoted here : — 
 
 "As the Greeke tongue is made famous and elo- 
 quent by Homer, Hesiod, JEuripedes, Aeschilus, 
 Sophocles, Pindarus, Phocylides and Aristophanes; 
 and the Latine tongue by Virgil, Ouid, Horace^ 
 Silius Itallcus, Lucanus, Lucretius, Ausonius and 
 Claudianus : so the English tongue is mightily en- 
 riched, and gorgeouslie inuested in rare ornaments 
 and resplendent abiliments by sir Philip Sidney, 
 Spencer, Daniel, Drayton, Waimer, Shakespeare, 
 Marlow and Chapman. 
 
 " As the soule of Euphorhus was thought to Hue in 
 Pythagoras : so the sweete wittie soule of Ouid Hues 
 in mellifluous & hony-tongued Shakespeare, witnes 
 his Venus and Adonis, his Lucrece, his sugred Sonnets 
 among his priuate friends, &c. 
 
 " As Plautus and Seneca are accounted the best for 
 Comedy and Tragedy among the Latines : so Shake- 
 speare among y* English is the most excellent in 
 both kinds for the stage; for Comedy, witnes his 
 Gentlemen of Verona, his Errors, his Loue labors 
 lost, his Loue labours tvonne, his Midsummers night 
 
The English Historical Plays 233 
 
 dreame, and his Merchant of Venice: for Tragedy 
 his Richard the 2. Richard the 3. Henry the 4. King 
 lohn, Titus Andronicus and his Romeo and luliet. 
 
 "As Epius Stolo said, that the Muses would 
 speake with Plautus tongue, if they would speak 
 Latin : so I say that the Muses would speak with 
 Shakespeares fine filed phrase, if they would speake 
 English. 
 
 " And as Horace saith of his : Exegi momcmentum 
 cere j:>ere?^?^^MS ; Regaliq : situ pyramidum altius ; 
 Quod non imher edax ; Non Aquilo impotens possit 
 diruere ; aut innumerabilis annorum series & fuga 
 temporum : so say I seuerally of sir Philip Sidneys, 
 Spencers, Daniels, Draytons, Shakespeares, and 
 Warners workes ; . . . 
 
 "As Pindarus, Anacreon and Callimachus among 
 the Greeks; and Horace and Catullus among the 
 Latines are the best Lyrick Poets ; so in this faculty 
 the best amog our Poets are Spencer (who excelleth in 
 all kinds) Daniel, Drayton, Shakespeare, Bretton. . . 
 
 "As these Tragicke Poets flourished in Greece, 
 Aeschylus, Euripedes, Sophocles, Alexander Aetohis, 
 Achceus ErithricBus, Astydamas Atheniensis, Apollo- 
 dorus Tarsensis, Nicomachus Phrygius, Thespis At- 
 ticus, and Timon Appioloniates ; and these among 
 the Latines, Accius, 31. Attilius, Pomponius Secun- 
 dus and Seneca : so these are our best for Tragedie, 
 the Lorde Buckhurst, Doctor Leg of Cambridge, 
 Doctor Edes of Oxforde, maister Edward Ferris, 
 the Authour of the Mirrour for Magistrates, Marlow, 
 
234 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Peele, Watson, Kid, Shakespeare, Drayton, Chapman^ 
 Decker, and Beniamin Johnson.'^ 
 
 Of this play, and the others in the series, Ver- 
 planck remarks: "With all sorts of readers and 
 spectators this is the greatest favourite of the whole 
 of Shakespeare's English histories, and, indeed, is 
 perhaps the most popular of all dramatic compo- 
 sitions in the language. The popularity of this 
 play has extended itself to the other histories with 
 which it is connected, until it has made them all 
 nearly as familiarly known as itself. It is probably 
 owing quite as much to Falstaff and to Hotspur as 
 to the several merits of the other histories — great 
 as they are, though in very different degrees — that 
 this whole dramatic series of histories have been 
 mixed up with all our recollections and impressions 
 of the Wars of York and Lancaster, and finally be- 
 come substituted in the popular mind for all other 
 history of the period. Thus it is to this play that 
 the great majority of those at all familiar with old 
 English history in its substantial reality, not as a 
 meagre chronological abridgment of names and 
 events, but exhibiting the men and deeds of the 
 times, are indebted generally for their earliest and 
 always their most vivid, impressive, and true con- 
 ceptions of England's feudal ages. Of the ten 
 plays of this historic series, 1 Henry IV. is the 
 most brilliant and various, and, therefore, the most 
 attractive ; while it is substantially as true as any 
 of the rest in its historical instruction — although 
 
The English Historical Plays 2^^ 
 
 it is neither a dramatized chronicle in the old fash- 
 ion, nor yet a strictly historical drama in the sense 
 in which Richard 11. and Julius Caesar are pre- 
 eminently indebted to that appellation — as present- 
 ing only historical personages and great public 
 events with the condensed effect and sustained feel- 
 ing of dramatic unity and interest." 
 
 Falstaff is a character "hardly less complex, 
 hardly less wonderful, than Hamlet." Nothing 
 has been written about him that is better than 
 Maurice Morgann's Essay on the Dramatic Char- 
 acter of Sir John Falstaff (first published in 1777, 
 and reprinted in 1820 and 1825), unfortunately long 
 out of print. The fat knight is concisely described 
 thus: "He is a man at once young and old, enter- 
 prising and fat, a dupe and a wit, harmless and 
 wicked, weak in principle and resolute by constitu- 
 tion, cowardly in appearance and brave in reality, 
 a knave without malice, a liar without deceit, and 
 a knight, a gentleman, and a soldier, without either 
 dignity, decency, or honour. This is a character 
 which, though it may be decompounded, could not, 
 I believe, have been formed, nor the ingredients 
 of it duly mingled, upon any receipt whatever ; it 
 required the hand of Shakspere himself to give to 
 every particular part a relish of the whole, and 
 of the whole to every particular part; alike the 
 same incongruous, identical Falstaff, whether to the 
 grave Chief -j ustice he vainly talks of his youth 
 and offers to caper for a thousand, or cries to Mrs. 
 
2^6 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Doll, ' I am old ! I am old ! ' although she is seated 
 on his lap, and he is courting her for busses." 
 
 It is almost certain that 2 Henry IV. was written 
 immediately after 1 Henry IV., and before the entry 
 of the latter on the Stationers' Eegisters, February 
 25th, 1598 ; for that entry shows that the name of 
 Oldcastle, originally given to the fat knight in both 
 plays, had already been changed to Falstaff. It 
 was certainly written before Ben Jonson's Every 
 Man out of his Humour, which was acted in 1599 ; 
 for in that play Justice Silence is alluded to by 
 name. 
 
 The earliest edition of the play was a quarto 
 printed in 1600; and in this the prefix "OM." was 
 accidentally retained before one of the speeches of 
 Falstaff (i. 2. 113) : "Very well, my lord, very well," 
 etc. 
 
 No other edition of the play appears to have 
 been issued before the publication of the folio of 
 1623, in which it was probably printed either from 
 a transcript of the original manuscript, or from a 
 complete copy of the quarto collated with such 
 a transcript. " It contains passages of considerable 
 length which are not found in the quarto. Some 
 of these are among the finest in the play, and are 
 too closely connected with the context to allow of 
 the supposition that they were later additions in- 
 serted by the author after the publication of the 
 quarto. In the manuscript from which that edition 
 was printed, these passages had been most likely 
 
The English Historical Plays 237 
 
 omitted, or erased, in order to shorten the play for 
 the stage." On the other hand, the quarto contains 
 several passages which do not appear in the folio. 
 Some of these were probably struck out by the 
 author, and others by the Master of the Revels. 
 
 The play is inferior to 1 Henry IV. in dramatic 
 interest, and has long disappeared from the stage. 
 But as Purnivall remarks, " all continuations do fall 
 off, and this is no exception to the rule. How are 
 Hotspur and the first impressions of Falstaff to be 
 equalled ? Even Shallow cannot make up for them. 
 There 's a quieter tone, too, in this Part IL, though 
 the rhetorical speeches are still kept up by North- 
 umberland and Mowbray. The King leads, not at 
 the head of his army, but in his quiet progress to 
 the grave." 
 
 Henry V., in the form in which we now have it, 
 was first published in the folio of 1623, but a muti- 
 lated and incomplete quarto edition, probably com- 
 piled from short-hand notes taken at the theatre, 
 was issued in 1600 and reprinted in 1602. 
 
 The date of the play is fixed by a passage in the 
 chorus of the last act : — 
 
 " Were now the general of our gracious empress — 
 As in good time he may — from Ireland coming," etc. 
 
 This evidently refers to Lord Essex, who went to 
 Ireland, April 15, 1599, and returned to London, 
 September 28, of the same year. Unless the passage 
 was a later insertion, which is not probable, the 
 
238 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 play must have been written between those dates. It 
 is not mentioned by Meres in 1598 in the list given 
 above, which, as we have seen, includes Henry IV. 
 
 Henry V. was Shakespeare's ideal king, and his 
 history as prince and as sovereign runs through 
 three plays — 1 and 2 Henry IV. and Henry V. 
 The two former are really but one play, divided for 
 the stage on account of its length; and the latter 
 continues the history of Prince Hal, who has been 
 a prominent actor in the earlier parts of the trilogy. 
 Similarly, the history of Henry IV. had begun in 
 the play of Richard II. where Bolingbroke is per- 
 haps a more important personage than the weak 
 monarch whose title he usurps, and who gives his 
 name to the drama. That play prepares us for the 
 right understanding of the King in Henry IV.; and 
 the development of the Prince, his son, in the latter 
 leads up to his presentation as sovereign in Henry 
 V. The four plays should be read as a connected 
 composition if we would fully appreciate the poet's 
 plan and aim. 
 
 The delineation of the Prince in Henry IV., 
 which at first glance seems inconsistent with that 
 of the King in Henry V., is in reality thoroughly 
 in keeping therewith. At first we are inclined to 
 say, with the Archbishop in the opening scene of 
 Henry V. : — 
 
 " The courses of his youth promised it not. 
 The breath no sooner left his father's body 
 
The English Historical Plays 239 
 
 But that his wilclness, mortified in him, 
 
 Seem'd to die too ; yea, at that very moment 
 
 Consideration, like an angel, came 
 
 And whipp'd the offending Adam out of him, 
 
 Leaving his body as a paradise 
 
 To envelope and contain celestial spirits. 
 
 Never was such a sudden scholar made ; 
 
 Never came reformation in a flood 
 
 With such a heady currance, scouring faults ; 
 
 Nor never hydrar-headed wilfulness 
 
 So soon did lose his seat and all at once 
 
 As in this king." 
 
 But Shakespeare is careful that this remarkable 
 change shall not appear like the sudden reform of 
 the villain in the average modern melodrama. In 
 the very first scene in which the Prince appears, the 
 poet takes pains to show us his real character. He 
 is introduced in the company of his wild friends, 
 and joins them in planning the Gadshill robbery; 
 but when they leave him the poet detains him on 
 the stage for a soliloquy in which the true prince 
 utters himself : — 
 
 <' I know you all, and will awhile uphold 
 The unyoked humour of your idleness ; 
 Yet herein will I imitate the sun, 
 Who doth permit the base contagious clouds 
 To smother up his beauty from the world, 
 That, when he please again to be himself. 
 Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at. 
 By breaking through the foul and ugly mist* 
 
240 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Of vapours that did seem to stfangle him. 
 
 If all the year were playing holidays, 
 
 To sport would be as tedious as to work ; 
 
 But when they seldom come, they wish'd-for come, 
 
 And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents. 
 
 So, when this loose behaviour I throw off 
 
 And pay the debt I never promised, 
 
 By how much better than my word 1 am, 
 
 By so much shall I falsify men's hopes ; 
 
 And like bright metal on a sullen ground, 
 
 My reformation, glittering o'er my fault, 
 
 Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes 
 
 Than that which hath no foil to set it off. 
 
 I '11 so offend, to make offence a skill. 
 
 Redeeming time when men think least I will." ' 
 
 This soliloquy has puzzled some of the critics 
 and offended others. Furnivall says : " Prince Hal, 
 afterwards Henry the Eifth, is Shakspere's hero in 
 English history. He takes not Coeur-de-lion, Ed- 
 ward the First or the Third, or the Black Prince 
 of Wales, but Henry of Agincourt. See how he 
 draws him by his enemy Vernon's mouth, how 
 modestly he makes him challenge Hotspur, how 
 generously treat that rival when he dies; how he 
 makes him set Douglas free, praise Prince John's 
 deed, save his father's life, give Falstaff the credit 
 of Hotspur's death! Yet, on the other hand, he 
 shows us him as the companion of loose-living, 
 debauched fellows, highway-robbers, thieves, and 
 brothel-hunters, himself breaking the law, lying to 
 
The English Historical Plays 241 
 
 the sheriff on their behalf. And what is the j ustifi- 
 cation, the motive for all this ? To astonish men, 
 to win more admiration — 
 
 < So when this loose behaviour I throw off,' etc. 
 
 (i. 2. 212 fol.). 
 
 " Surely this is a great mistake of Shakspere's ; 
 surely in so far as the prince did act from this 
 motive, he was a charlatan and a snob." 
 
 When we are tempted to say that Shakespeare 
 has made a mistake, it is well to pause and con- 
 sider whether the mistake is not ours rather than 
 his. In this instance, it is clearly the critic, not 
 the dramatist, who is at fault. Furnivall seems to 
 have overlooked the exigencies of the stage soliloquy, 
 which, while it is a device for unfolding to us the 
 inmost thoughts and feelings of the person, does 
 not in all cases present them in the exact form in 
 which they exist in his mind and heart. Here, for 
 example, we may readily admit all that Henry 
 claims for himself, without supposing that he would 
 have said it, even to himself, in the formal way 
 in which the dramatist is compelled to give it. 
 There is an element of sophistry in it, we may 
 admit, but no snobbishness. The young man is 
 not wholly forgetful of his rank and his responsi- 
 bilities. When his conscience pricks him for yield- 
 ing to the temptation to study low life in London, 
 he excuses himself with the thought that the burden 
 of these responsibilities is not yet laid upon his 
 
242 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 shoulders. He justifies his present fooleries as the 
 harmless whim of a young man who has nothing of 
 importance to do; and he promises himself that 
 when the call of duty comes he will obey it. Thus 
 doing, he says that he shall appear like the sun 
 breaking through clouds, the brighter for its tempo- 
 rary obscuration. 
 
 This thought follows, not precedes, the conduct 
 to which it refers; it is a comment upon it as it 
 will strike others, not a reminiscence of the motive 
 that prompted it. If, at the outset, he had de- 
 liberately planned his wild career with a view to 
 the impression he now suggests it will make, it 
 would have been a piece of contemptible stage 
 trickery ; but we may be sure that Henry was in- 
 capable of thus shaping his behaviour for mere 
 theatrical effect; and Shakespeare was incapable of 
 the blunder it would have been to represent him as 
 doing it. 
 
 As the poet approached his task in this final 
 portion of the trilogy he must have felt the 
 peculiar difficulties it involved. The title-page of 
 the first edition of the play terms it a " chronicle 
 history," and, whether Shakespeare was responsible 
 for this designation or not, it aptly expresses the 
 character of the production. It is an epical treat- 
 ment of his subject, though cast in a dramatic 
 mould. Like Homer, the poet begins by invoking 
 the Muse, and, like the ancient poet, he dwells at 
 times on details prosaic in themselves — such as 
 
The English Historical Plays 243 
 
 the grounds of Henry's title to the crown of France 
 — but which, though unpoetical, were an important 
 part of the history, and therefore interesting to his 
 countrymen. The choruses, which, though they 
 answer a purpose in bridging over the long intervals 
 in the action, are not absolutely necessary, appear 
 to have been due in part to this merely semi- 
 dramatic method of composition. As has been well 
 said, they are " a series of brief lyrical poems, for, 
 though not lyrical in metre, they are strictly so in 
 spirit, crowded with a quick succession of rapidly 
 parsing brilliant scenes, majestic images, glowing 
 thoughts, and kindling words." 
 
 The result of this peculiar treatment of the poet's 
 materials is naturally unlike all his other dramas. 
 As a recent critic has remarked, "a, siege and a 
 battle, with one bit of slight love-making, cannot 
 form a drama, whatever amount of rhetorical patri- 
 otic speeches and comic relief are introduced." 
 The king is really all the play ; it is a " magnificent 
 monologue," and he the speaker of it. The other 
 characters serve little purpose except to afford him 
 breathing-spaces, and to set off his glory by con- 
 trast. In the preceding plays, as we have seen, we 
 got,, "under the veil of wildness," glimpses of his 
 nobler nature. He was the "true prince" even 
 when he played the fool for lack of anything better 
 to do. Weary with the formality of court life, he 
 sought relief and diversion in scenes of low life — 
 low, but with no shame about it — filled with 
 
244 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 cliaracters worthless enough, but interesting as 
 studies of human nature. The Prince mingled 
 with them, but was not one of them. He never 
 forgot his royal destiny, never lost his true self, 
 but let it lie latent, ready to awake when the call 
 should come for action worthy of it. 
 
 And now the prince to whose advent to the throne 
 his father and all who were thoughtful for the weal 
 of England looked forward with fear and anxiety, 
 has become the king — and what a change ! His 
 prodigal habits drop from him like a jester's robe that 
 he had assumed as a disguise, and the real nmn 
 who had been masquerading in them stands forth 
 " every inch a king " — a king to whom the sturdiest 
 republican might concede the divine right to -rule, 
 so completely do all royal gifts and graces unite 
 in his character. He is profoundly conscious of 
 his responsibilities and duties as a sovereign, yet 
 not weakly sinking under them, but accepting the 
 trust as from God, and doing the work as for God, 
 relying on Him in battle, and rendering to Him the 
 praise of the victory. This was, indeed, not the 
 Henry of history; but as an ideal hero, the perfect 
 flower of chivalry and piety, the character is un- 
 rivalled in its way in Shakespeare's long gallery of 
 manly portraiture. 
 
 It may be added that Henry V. speaks more lines 
 than any other character in Shakespeare. Besides 
 1063 in this play (out of 3380) he has 616 in 
 IHenrylV. and 308 in 2 Henry IV., making 1987 in 
 
The English Historical Plays 245 
 
 all. Falstaff comes next, having 719 in 1 Henry IV., 
 688 in 2 Henry IV., and 488 in the Merry Wives of 
 Windsor, or 1895 in all. Of characters that appear 
 in only a single play, Hamlet comes first, with 1569 
 lines. 
 
 It seemed best to discuss the plays in which Henry 
 V. appears as prince and as king before taking up 
 The Merry Wives of Windsor, though this play was 
 written between 2 Henry IV. and Henry V. That 
 it was written after 2 Henry IV. is evident from 
 the fact that Falstaff in that play was originally 
 called Oldcastle, but not in this one. It has been 
 urged that it must have been produced before 
 Henry V. in which Falstaff's death is recorded ; but 
 it is not necessary to regard the Merry Wives as an 
 integral part of the historical trilogy. If it was 
 written at the request of Elizabeth, the dramatist 
 would not have hesitated to resuscitate the knight 
 for her gratification. It is more probable, however, 
 that, as Rowe asserts, it was because she was "so 
 well pleased with the admirable character of Fal- 
 staff in the two parts of 'Henry the Fourth,' that 
 she commanded him to continue it for one play 
 more, and to show him in love ; " and if, as Dennis 
 declared (in 1702), " she was so eager to see it acted 
 that she commanded it to be finished in fourteen 
 days," the dramatist would doubtless have post- 
 poned the completion of the trilogy in order to do 
 it. Some critics doubt this story of the origin of 
 the play, but the placiug of the scene at Windsor, 
 
246 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 and the complimentary allusions to Windsor Castle, 
 favour the tradition that the play was written in 
 obedience to a royal command. The story, given 
 independently by Dennis and by Rowe, was repeated 
 in 1710 by Gildon, who is often referred to as a 
 competent authority on theatrical history; and it 
 was accepted without question by Pope, Theobald, 
 and other of the early editors. 
 
 Some of the more recent critics have been more 
 skeptical ; but they are ably answered by Verplanck 
 thus : " Yet, as Eowe relates his anecdote on the 
 same authority with that on which most of the 
 generally received facts of the poet's history are 
 known, acknowledging his obligations to Betterton 
 ' for the most considerable passages ' of the biogra- 
 phy ; as ■ Betterton was then seventy-four years of 
 age, and thus might have received the story directly 
 from contemporary authority ; as Gildon was Better- 
 ton's friend and biographer, and as Dennis (a learned 
 acute man, of a most uninventive and matter-of-fact 
 mind) told his story seven or eight years before, 
 ^ with a difference,' yet without contradiction, so as 
 to denote another and an independent source of 
 evidence; as Pope, the rancorous enemy of poor 
 Dennis, whom he and his contemporary wits have 
 'damned to everlasting fame,' received the tradi- 
 tions without hesitation ; we have certainly, in the 
 entire absence of any external or internal evidence 
 to the contrary, as good a proof as any such insu- 
 lated piece of literary history could well require or 
 
The English Historical Plays 247 
 
 receive, although it may not amount to such evi- 
 dence as might be demanded to establish some 
 contested point of religious or legal or political 
 opinion." 
 
 The earliest edition of The Merry Wives was a 
 quarto printed in 1602, with the following title- 
 page : — 
 
 "A I Most pleasaunt and | excellent conceited Co- 
 I medie, of Syr John Falstaffe, and the | merrie 
 Wiues of Windsor. | Entermixed with sundrie | 
 variable and pleasing humors of Syr Hugh \ the 
 Welch Knight, Justice Shallow, and his | wise 
 Cousin M. Slender. | With the swaggering vaine of 
 Auncient | P»s^oZ^, and Corporall iV?/m, | By William 
 Shakespeare. \ As it hath bene diners times Acted 
 by the right Honorable | my Lord Chamberlaines 
 servants Both before her | Maiestie, and else-where. 
 I London | Printed by T. C. for Arthur lohnson ; 
 and are to be sold at | his shop in Powles Church- 
 yard, at the signe of the | Flower de Leuse and the 
 Crowne. | 1602." 
 
 A second quarto was published in 1619. These 
 editions appear to be a pirated version of the play 
 as first written, probably in 1599. 
 
 This early sketch was afterwards revised and 
 enlarged to about twice the original length; and 
 this is the form in which it appears in the folio 
 •of 1623. Internal evidence shows that this revision 
 was made after James came to the throne, and 
 probably about 1605. 
 
248 
 
 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 The critics have wasted much ink and ingenuity 
 in trying to decide at what point in the career of 
 Talstaff these Windsor adventures belong; but, as 
 already suggested, we may consider the comedy 
 as having a certain independence of the histories 
 and not to be brought into chronological relations to 
 them. As White remarks, " Shakespeare was not 
 writing biography, even the biography of his own 
 characters. He was a poet, but he wrote as a play- 
 wright ; and the only consistency to which he held 
 himself, or can be held by others, is the consistency 
 of dramatic interest." 
 
 If we are to make a connected and consistent 
 biography of Sir John out of the four plays, there 
 is no alternative but to adopt the hypothesis of Ver- 
 planck and some other critics who put the Windsor 
 exploits before all the other experiences of the 
 knight recorded by Shakespeare. Elizabeth may 
 have induced the poet to write a play "with Sir 
 John in it " in the role she proposed, but after com- 
 paring the new Sir John with the old we are con- 
 strained to say "this is not the man." At some 
 uncertain period before we meet him in Eastcheap 
 he may indeed have been capable of such fatuity, 
 but he was too old a bird then to be caught with 
 the chaff of the merry wives. 
 
 Hartley Coleridge, in his Essays and Marginalia, 
 remarks : " That Queen Bess should have desired to 
 see Ealstaff making love proves her to have been, as 
 she was, a gross-minded old baggage. Shakespeare 
 
The English Historical Plays 249 
 
 has evaded the difficulty with great skill. He knew 
 that Falstaff could not be in love; and has mixed 
 but a little, a very little, prwrtYtts with his fortune- 
 hunting courtship. But the Falstaff of the Merry 
 Wives is not the Falstaff of Henry IV. It is a big- 
 bellied impostor, assuming his name and style, or, 
 at best, it is Falstaff in dotage. The Mrs. Quickly 
 of Windsor is not mine hostess of the Boar's Head ; 
 but she is a very pleasant, busy, good-natured, un- 
 principled old woman, whom it is impossible to be 
 angry with. Shallow should not have left his seat 
 in Glouceste];shire and his magisterial duties. Ford's 
 jealousy is of too serious a complexion for the rest 
 of the play. The merry wives are a delightful pair. 
 Methinks I see them, with their comely, middle-aged 
 visages, their dainty white ruffs and toys, their half- 
 witch-like conic hats, their full farthingales, their 
 neat though not over-slim waists, their housewifely 
 keys, their girdles, their sly laughing looks, their 
 apple-red cheeks, their brows the lines whereon look 
 more like the work of mirth than years. And sweet 
 Anne Page — she is a pretty little creature whom 
 one would like to take on one's knee." It is note- 
 worthy that Maurice Morgann, in his essay on 
 Falstaff, avoids the Merry Wives. 
 
 Among the sources from which it has been sup- 
 posed that Shakespeare may have got some hints 
 for the plot of the Merry Wives are two tales in 
 Straparola's Le Tredici Piacevoli Notte, and a modi- 
 fied version of one of these, under the title of " The 
 
250 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Lovers of Pisa" in Tarleton's Newes out of Pur- 
 gatorie, 1590 ; the tale of Bucciolo and Pietro Paulo 
 in the Pecorone of Giovanni Fiorentino ; and " The 
 Fishwife's Tale of Brainford" from Westivard for 
 Smelts. This last, however, was probably not pub- 
 lished till 1620, though Malone refers to an edition 
 of 1603. 
 
 Whether Shakespeare found his plot in Italian or 
 other literature, the play is thoroughly English. " It 
 'smells April and May,' like Fenton. It has the 
 bright healthy country air all through it : Windsor 
 Park with its elms, the glad light-green of its 
 beeches, its ferns, and deer. There is coursing and 
 hawking, Datchet Mead, and the silver Thames, 
 and though not 
 
 ' The white feet of laughing girls 
 Whose sires have march'd to Rome,' 
 
 yet those of stout, bare-legged, bare-armed English 
 wenches plying their washing-trade. There 's a 
 healthy moral as well : ' Wives may be merry and 
 yet honest too.' The lewd court hanger-on, whose 
 wit always mastered men, is outwitted and routed 
 by Windsor wives " (Furnivall). 
 
 The Taming of the Shreiv, first printed, so far as 
 we know, in the folio of 1623, is a play which prob- 
 ably belongs to this period, though the critics differ 
 widely as to its exact date, some making it as early 
 as 1594, others as late as 1603. The internal evi- 
 dence seems on the whole to favour putting it not 
 
The English Historical Plays 251 
 
 later than 1597, and possibly a year or two earlier. 
 The play is not mentioned by Meres in 1598; but 
 this may be, as has been suggested, because he 
 "affects a pedantic parallelism of numbers" and 
 gives only six comedies to balance his six " trag- 
 edies," as he calls them, or because the play is 
 Shakespeare's only in part. Craik and Hertzberg, 
 however, endeavour to prove that the Love's Labour's 
 Won in Meres's list is The Taming of the Shrew ; 
 but the critics generally identify that play with the 
 early version of All 's Well That Ends Well. 
 
 The Taming of the Shrew is evidently an adapta- 
 tion of an earlier play published anonymously in 
 1594 under the title of "A Pleasant Conceited His- 
 toric, called The taming of a Shrew," which had 
 been " sundry times acted by the Eight honorable 
 the Earle of Pembrook his seruants." Fleay be- 
 lieves that this old play was written by Marlowe 
 and Shakespeare in conjunction in 1589, but the 
 critics generally agree that the latter had no hand 
 in it. They also agree that somebody beside Shake- 
 speare had a hand in the revision of the play. The 
 most plausible theory, on the whole, is that of Fur- 
 nivall and Dowden, who believe that The Taming of 
 The Shrew is Shakespeare's adaptation, not of the 
 original Taming of a Shrew, but of an enlarged 
 version of that play made by some unknown writer. 
 As Furnivall puts it, "an adapter, who used at 
 least ten bits of Marlowe in it, first recast the old 
 play, and then Shakspere put into the recast the 
 
252 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 scenes in which Katherina, Petruchio, and Grumio 
 appear." Dowden remarks : " In The Taming of the 
 Shrew we may distinguish three parts : (1) the hu- 
 morous Induction, in which Sly, the drunken tinker, 
 is the chief person ; (2) a comedy of character, the 
 Shrew and her tamer Petruchio being the hero and 
 heroine; (3) a comedy of intrigue — the story of 
 Bianca and her rival lovers. Now the old play of 
 ^A Shrew' contains, in a rude form, the scenes 
 of the Inductioup and the chief scenes in which 
 Petruchio and Katherina (named by the original 
 writer Ferando and Kate) appear; but nothing in 
 this old play corresponds with the intrigues of 
 Bianca's disguised lovers. It is, however, in the 
 scenes connected with these intrigues that Shak- 
 spere's hand is least apparent. It may be said that 
 Shakspere's genius goes in and out with the person of 
 Katherina. We would therefore con j ecturally assign 
 the intrigue-comedy — which is founded upon Gas- 
 coigne's Supposes, a translation of Ariosto's I Sup- 
 positi — to the adapter of the old play, reserving 
 for Shakspere a title to those scenes — in the main 
 enlarged from the play of ' A Shrew ' — in which 
 Katherina, Petruchio, and Grumio are speakers." 
 
 Grant White also recognizes three hands in the 
 play as it stands : " The first appears in the struc- 
 ture of the plot, and in the incidents and the dia- 
 logue of most of the minor scenes ; to the last must 
 be assigned the greater part of the love business 
 between Bianca and her two suitors; while to 
 
The English Historical Plays 1^2 
 
 Shakespeare belong the strong, clear characteriza- 
 tion, the delicious humour, and the rich verbal 
 colouring of the recast Induction, and all the scenes 
 in which Katherina and Petruchio and Grumio are 
 the prominent figures, together with the general 
 effect produced by scattering lines and words and 
 phrases here and there, and removing others else- 
 where, throughout the rest of the play." 
 
 This last point seems to me an important one; 
 and it seems to explain the difficulty that some of 
 the critics have had in deciding just how much 
 Shakespeare had to do with certain parts of the 
 present play. He retvrofe considerable portions of 
 the earlier one and retouched the rest. 
 
 The sources of the plot appear to be limited to 
 the old play and Gascoigne's Stqyposes, already men- 
 tioned. The latter was " englished " from Ariosto 
 in 1566. The story of the Induction has been 
 traced as far back as the Thousand and One Nights ; 
 and Mr. Lane conjectures that it is founded on 
 fact. It has been repeated in various languages 
 and at various times. The old ballad of The Frolic, 
 ■some Duke, or the Tinker'' s Good Fortune, in Percy's 
 Beliques may be mentioned as an illustration. 
 
 The comic parts of the old play have considerable 
 merit, but the serious or sentimental portions are 
 generally poor, sometimes very poor. Shakespeare 
 helped himself freely to the former where they 
 suited his purpose, but the latter he used scarcely 
 at all. For instance, in iv. 3 and iv. 5 he followed 
 
254 
 
 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 the .old play quite closely ; and so, too, in the final 
 scene until we come to Kate's long speech (136- 
 179), where he gives us something all his own and 
 in keeping with the character, instead of the pedan- 
 tic homily on the creation of the world and of man, 
 with which the earlier Kate is absurdly made to 
 address her sisters. This is but one illustration out 
 of many that might be cited to show how Shake- 
 speare has bettered the characterization of the old 
 play, not only by making the personages consistent 
 with themselves, but also by lifting them to a 
 higher plane of humanity. Kate, "curst" though 
 she be, is not the vulgar vixen the earlier play- 
 wright made her ; and Petruchio, if " not a gentle- 
 man," judged by the standard of our day, is much 
 nearer being one than his prototype Ferando. The 
 two Kates are tamed by the very same methods, but 
 in the case of the first we miss all the subtle touches 
 that show the result to be a genuine "moral re- 
 form," and make us feel that the Shrew has learned 
 to love her conqueror as well as to respect him — 
 " taming her wild heart to his loving hand," as Bea- 
 trice expresses it. 
 
CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 "the goxden prime op comedy" 
 
 In the closing years of the sixteenth century, after 
 finishing the English historical plays (not counting 
 .Henry VIII. which was much later, and his only in 
 part), Shakespeare returned to comedy and produced 
 his three most brilliant works in that line, As You 
 Like It, Much Ado About Nothing, and Twelfth 
 Night. All three appear to have been written be- 
 tween the summer of 1598 and the end of 1600, 
 but in what order it is impossible to determine. 
 The critics generally agree in regarding Twelfth 
 Night as the last of the series, but there is some 
 question whether As You Like It or Much Ado was 
 the first. 
 
 These latter plays were both entered in the 
 Stationers' Eegisters on the 4th of August, 1600. 
 The year is not specified in the record, but is 
 proved to be 1600 by other evidence in the Eegister. 
 Henry V. was entered on the same date, together 
 with Jons on' s Every Man in His Humour ; but all 
 are marked in the margin "to be staled." Why 
 this restriction was imposed it is impossible to 
 
256 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 decide 5 biit the prohibition was soon removed, at 
 least with regard to Henry V, and Much Ado, the 
 former being duly licensed for publication on the 
 14th, and the latter on the 23d of August ; and edi- 
 tions of both were issued before the end of the 
 year. As You Like It and Tivelfth Night were not 
 printed, so far as we know, until they appeared in 
 the folio of 1623. 
 
 For myself I like to regard As Tou Like It as 
 the earliest of the plays in this "golden prime of 
 comedy," written by the dramatist when the histori- 
 cal series was just finished, and perhaps as a rest 
 for his imagination — the recreation that is gained 
 by taking up a wholly different kind of literary 
 work. The poet escaped for a season from camps 
 and courts, and took a delightful vacation in the 
 Forest of Arden. History was for the time for- 
 gotten, and free scope was given to imagination 
 amid the scenes of a purely ideal life — an Arcadia 
 where they "fleet the time carelessly as they did 
 in the golden world." The result is this " sweetest 
 and happiest of Shakespeare's comedies," a pastoral 
 drama in which we have almost unbroken sunshine, 
 no more of shadow being admitted than serves to 
 give variety to the scene. It is not the shadow that 
 forebodes the coming of night or of tempest; but 
 rather like that of the passing summer cloud, or 
 like that of the green canopy of a pleasant wood, 
 falling, flecked with sunlight sifted through the 
 leaves, upon the velvet sward below. No one suffers 
 
"The Golden Prime of Comedy" 257 
 
 seriously or for any great length of time. The 
 banished Duke is only the happier for his exile, 
 and exults in his escape from the artificial restraints 
 of the court. In the end he is restored to his rank 
 and position; and Rosalind, Celia, and the rest, who 
 are made temporarily uncomfortable by the banish- 
 ment of the Duke and other causes, soon forget 
 their troubles in the forest, and are all happy at 
 last. Nobody could be really miserable in that 
 Forest of Arden. No matter what griefs and anx- 
 ieties one brought thither, these soon vanished 
 and were forgotten in "the charmed atmosphere." 
 Things might not be entirely to one's mind at first, 
 but one felt that they must soon become " as you 
 like it." 
 
 The play is not mentioned by Meres, whose Pal- 
 ladis Tamia was published in September, 1598 ; 
 and it contains a quotation (iii. 5. 81) from Mar- 
 lowe's Hero and Leander, the earliest known edition 
 of which appeared in the same year. We may 
 therefore conclude, as nearly all the critics agree, 
 that As You Like It was written between Septem- 
 ber, 1598, and August, 1600; probably in the year 
 1599. 
 
 Shakespeare was chiefly indebted for the story of 
 the play to a novel by Thomas Lodge, published in 
 1590 under the title of " Rosalynde, Euphues Golden 
 Legacie; found after his death in his Cell at Silexe- 
 dra, Bequeathed to Philautus sonnes noursed up 
 with their father in England. Fetcht from the 
 
258 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Canaries. By T. L., gent." This book was re- 
 printed in 1592, and eight editions are known to 
 have appeared before 1643. 
 
 Lodge seems to have taken some of the incidents 
 of his novel from The Cokes Tale of Gamelyn, which 
 is found in a few of the later manuscripts of the 
 Canterbury Tales of Chaucer, but which the best 
 editors of that poet believe to be the production of 
 another writer. Furness believes that the story 
 had been dramatized before the date of the play, 
 and that Shakespeare made some use of the earlier 
 drama, but there is no external or internal evidence 
 to support this theory. Grant White is probably 
 right in regarding the Hymen episode in the last 
 scene as an interpolation, like the Hecate passages 
 in Macbeth and the Vision in Cymbeline. It will be 
 observed that it makes an awkward break in the 
 dialogue, which would run along very naturally 
 without it. 
 
 Charles Lamb used to call Love's Labour's Lost the 
 "Comedy of Leisure," because its characters not 
 only " led purely ornamental lives " but were well 
 content to do so, and, having nothing to do, did it 
 agreeably ; but, as Verplanck remarks, he might have 
 given the title in a higher sense to As You Like It, 
 where the pervading feeling is that of a refined and 
 tasteful, yet simple and unaffected throwing off the 
 stiff "lendings" of artificial society; and this is 
 done by those who had worn those trappings with 
 ease and grace. The humour too is toned down to 
 
"The Golden Prime of Comedy" 259 
 
 suit the general impression, being odd, fanciful, gay, 
 and whimsical, without much connection with the 
 more substantial absurdities of the real " worka- 
 day world," 
 
 There is a tradition that Shakespeare himself 
 played the part of Adam in As You Like It. Will- 
 iam Oldys, who (about the middle of the eighteenth 
 century) was collecting materials for a Life of 
 Shakespeare, gives one version of the story thus: 
 " One of Shakespeare's younger brothers [probably 
 Gilbert], who lived to a good old age, even some 
 years, as I compute, after the restoration of King 
 Charles the Second, would in his younger days 
 come to London to visit his brother Will, as he 
 called him, and be a spectator of him as an actor in 
 some of his own plays. This custom, as his broth- 
 er's fame enlarged, and his dramatick entertain- 
 ments grew the greatest support of our principal 
 if not of all our theatres, he continued, it seems, so 
 long after his brother's death as even to the latter 
 end of his own life. The curiosity at this time of 
 the most noted actors to learn something from him 
 of his brother, etc., they justly held him in the 
 highest veneration; and it may be well believed, as 
 there was besides a kinsman and descendant of the 
 family, who was then a celebrated actor among 
 them, this opportunity made them greedily inquisi- 
 tive into every little circumstance, more especially 
 in his dramatick character, which his brother could 
 relate of him. But he, it seems, was so stricken in 
 
26o Life of Shakespeare 
 
 years, and possibly his memory so weakened with 
 infirmities, which might make him the easier pass 
 for a man of weak intellects, that he could give 
 them but little light into their enquiries ; and all 
 that could be recollected from him of his brother 
 Will in that station was the faint, general, and al- 
 most lost ideas he had of having once seen him act 
 a part in one of his own comedies, wherein, being to 
 personate a decrepit old man, he wore a long beard, 
 and appeared so weak and drooping and unable to 
 walk, that he was forced to be supported and car- 
 ried by another person to a table, at which he was 
 seated among some company who were eating, and 
 one of them sung them a song." 
 
 According to E,owe, the dramatist played "the 
 Ghost in his own Hamlet." John Davies, of Here- 
 ford, in his Scourge of Folly (1610) says that he 
 "played some kingly parts in sport." His name 
 heads the list of those who took part in the first 
 performance of Ben Jonson's Every Man in His 
 Humour (1598). In the list of "the principall 
 actors in all these playes," prefixed to the folio of 
 1623, his name is also placed first, but perhaps only 
 because he was the author of the plays. 
 
 Much Ado About Nothing was first published in 
 quarto form in 1600, but was not reprinted until it 
 appeared in the folio of 1623. The printers of the 
 latter seem to have used a copy of the quarto be- 
 longing to the library of the theatre and corrected 
 for the purposes of the stage ; but the changes are 
 
"The Golden Prime of Comedy " 261 
 
 mostly very slight and seldom for the better. In 
 iv. 2 ^' Kemp^' is prefixed to most of the speeches 
 of Dogberry, and " Cowley " or " Couley " to those 
 of Verges. These are the names of actors of the 
 time, and were probably inserted in the stage copy 
 for their convenience in learning their parts. With 
 the fourth speech in this scene we find the prefix 
 ^^ Andreiv,^^ a name that cannot be identified with 
 that of any comic actor of the period ; but perhaps, 
 as Halliwell-Phillipps suggests, it was the familiar 
 appellation of some one in the company. 
 
 As the play is not mentioned in Meres's list, 
 while, according to the title-page of 1600, it had 
 then been " sundrie times publikely acted," it was 
 probably written in 1599. 
 
 The earlier incidents of the serious portion of the 
 plot may have been taken from the story of Ario- 
 dante and Ginevra in Ariosto's Orlando Furioso 
 (canto V.) ; where Polinesso, in order to revenge 
 himself on the princess Ginevra (who has rejected 
 his suit and pledged her troth to Ariodante), in- 
 duces her attendant Dalinda to personate the prin- 
 cess, and to appear at night on a balcony to which 
 he ascends by a rope-ladder in sight of Ariodante, 
 whom he has stationed there to witness the infidel- 
 ity of Ginevra. A translation of this story was 
 entered on the Stationers' Eegisters in 1566 ; and in 
 1582 a play entitled " Ariodante and Genevora " 
 was performed before the Queen "by Mr, Mulcas- 
 ter's children." Spenser had also introduced the 
 
262 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 story, with some variations, in the Faerie Queene 
 (ii. 4. 17 foL), and this part of the poem was pub- 
 lished in 1590. 
 
 It is more probable, however, that Shakespeare 
 drew this part of his materials from the 22d Novel 
 of Bandello, which had been translated into French 
 by Belleforest in his Histoires Tragiques, and prol> 
 ably also into English, though the version is not 
 extant. In Bandello's book, as in the play, the 
 scene is laid at Messina ; the father of the slandered 
 girl is Lionato ; and the friend of her lover is Don 
 Piero, or Pedro. How closely the poet has followed 
 the novel will be seen from the outline of the latter 
 given by Staunton : " Don Piero of Arragon returns 
 from a victorious campaign, and, with the gallant 
 cavalier Timbreo di Cardona, is at Messina. Tim- 
 breo falls in love with Fenicia, the daughter of 
 Lionato di Lionati, a gentleman of Messina, and, 
 like Claudio in the play, courts her by proxy. He 
 is successful in his suit, and the lovers are be- 
 trothed ; but the course of true love is impeded by 
 one Girondo, a disappointed admirer of the lady, 
 who determines to prevent the marriage. In pur- 
 suance of this object, he insinuates to Timbreo that 
 Fenicia is false, and offers to show him a stranger 
 scaling her chamber window. The unhappy lover 
 consents to watch ; and at the appointed hour 
 Girondo and a servant in the plot pass him dis- 
 guised, and the latter is seen to ascend a ladder 
 and enter the house of Lionato. In an agony of 
 
"The Golden Prime of Comedy" 263 
 
 rage and jealousy, Timbreo in the morning accuses 
 the lady of disloyalty, and rejects the alliance. 
 Eenicia falls into a swoon 5 a dangerous illness 
 supervenes; and the father, to stifle all rumours 
 hurtful to her fame, removes her to a retired house 
 of his brother, proclaims her death, and solemnly 
 performs her funeral obsequies. Girondo is now- 
 struck with remorse at having * slandered to death ' 
 a creature so innocent and beautiful. He confesses 
 his treachery to Timbreo, and both determine to 
 restore the reputation of the lost one, and undergo 
 any penance her family may impose. Lionato is 
 merciful, and requires only from Timbreo that he 
 shall wed a lady whom he recommends, and whose 
 face shall be concealed till the marriage ceremony 
 is over. The denouement is obvious. Timbreo es- 
 pouses the mysterious fair one, and finds in her his 
 injured, loving, and beloved Fenicia." 
 
 The comic portion of the play is Shakespeare's 
 own, as indeed is everything else in it except this 
 mere skeleton of tragic incident. Claudio and Hero, 
 Don Pedro and Don John, are as really his own 
 creations as Benedick and Beatrice, Dogberry and 
 Verges, who have no part in Bandello's novel or 
 Ariosto's poem. 
 
 It is a tribute of no slight significance to Shake- 
 speare's skill in the delineation of character that we 
 instinctively regard the personages in his mimic 
 world as real men and women, and are not satisfied 
 to think of them only as they appear on the stage. 
 
264 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 We like to follow them after they have left the scene, 
 and to speculate concerning their subsequent history. 
 This is well illustrated by not a few of the criticisms 
 on the present play. The commentators are not will- 
 ing to dismiss Benedick and Beatrice when the drama 
 closes, without discussing the question whether they 
 probably "lived happily ever after." 
 
 Mrs. Jameson says: "On the whole we dis- 
 miss Benedick and Beatrice to their matrimonial 
 bonds rather with a sense of amusement than a feel- 
 ing of congratulation or sympathy; rather with an 
 acknowledgment that they are well - matched and 
 worthy of each other, than with any well-founded 
 expectation of their domestic tranquillity. If, as 
 Benedick asserts, they are both 'too wise to woo 
 peaceably,' it may be added that both are too wise, 
 too witty, and too wilful to live peaceably together. 
 We have some misgivings about Beatrice — some 
 apprehensions that poor Benedick will not escape 
 the 'predestinated scratched face,' which he had 
 foretold to him who should win and wear this 
 quick-witted and pleasant-spirited lady; yet when 
 we recollect that to the wit and imperious temper of 
 Beatrice is united a magnanimity of spirit which 
 would naturally place her far above all selfishness, 
 and all paltry struggles for power — when we per- 
 ceive, in the midst of her sarcastic levity and volu- 
 bility of tongue, so much of generous affection, and 
 such a high sense of female virtue and honour, we 
 are inclined to hope the best." 
 
"The Golden Prime of Comedy" 26^ 
 
 The poet Campbell, in his introduction to the 
 play, remarks: "Mrs. Jameson concludes with hop- 
 ing that Beatrice will live happy with Benedick, 
 but I have no such hope ; and my final anticipation 
 in reading the play is the certainty that Beatrice 
 will provoke her Benedick to give her much and 
 just conjugal castigation. She is an odious woman. 
 ... I once knew such a pair. The lady was a per- 
 fect Beatrice; she railed hypocritically at wedlock 
 before her marriage, and with bitter sincerity after 
 it. . . . Beatrice is not to be compared, but con- 
 trasted, with Eosalind, who is equally witty; but 
 the sparkling sayings of Eosalind are like gems 
 upon her head at court, and like dewdrops on her 
 bright hair in the woodland forest." 
 
 Verplanck, after quoting this passage, comments 
 upon it thus : " We extract this criticism, partly in 
 deference to Campbell's general exquisite taste and 
 reverent appreciation of Shakespeare's genius, and 
 partly as an example of the manner in which acci- 
 dental personal associations influence taste and opin- 
 ion. . . . Beatrice's faults are such as ordinarily 
 spring from the consciousness of talent and beauty, 
 accompanied with the high spirits of youth and 
 health, and the play of a lively fancy. Her bril- 
 liant intellectual qualities are associated with strong 
 and generous feelings, high confidence in female 
 truth and virtue, warm attachment to her friends, 
 and quick, undisguised indignation at wrong and 
 injustice. There is the rich material which the 
 
266 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 experience and the sorrows of maturer life, the 
 affection and the duties of the wife and the mother, 
 can gradually shape into the noblest forms of ma- 
 tronly excellence ; and such, we doubt not, was the 
 result shown in the married life of Beatrice." 
 
 Furnivall says on the same subject: "Beatrice is 
 the sauciest, most piquant, sparkling, madcap girl 
 that Shakspere ever drew, and yet a loving, deep- 
 natured, true woman too. . . . She gives her heart 
 to Benedick. . . . The two understand one another. 
 We all know what it means. The brightest, sunni- 
 est married life, comfort in sorrow, doubling of 
 joy. . . . The poet Campbell's story of his pair was 
 an utter mistake : he never knew a Beatrice." 
 
 Gervinus, after discussing the question at consid- 
 erable length, and with due German profundity, 
 comes to the same wise conclusion: "We have 
 no reason to be anxious either for the constancy 
 or for the peaceableness of this pair. The poet 
 has bestowed upon them two names of happy 
 augury." 
 
 Charles Cowden-Clarke, while he defends Beatrice 
 against Campbell, strangely expresses the opinion 
 that she does not really love Benedick. Their 
 union, he thinks, was "like ninety-nine hundredths 
 of the marriages that take place in society," one of 
 mere friendship rather than strong mutual affection. 
 He quotes in support of this view what Beatrice 
 says in the arbour after being led to believe that 
 Benedick is in love with her: — 
 
"The Golden Prime of Comedy " 267 
 
 " And, Benedick, love on ; I will requite thee, 
 Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand. 
 
 If thou dost love, my kindness shall incite thee 
 To bind our loves up in a holy band ; 
 
 For others say thou dost deserve, and I 
 
 Believe it better than reportingly." 
 
 He adds: "There is no avowal of passion, me- 
 thinks, in that speech. It is merely an acquiescent 
 one — ' If thou dost love, my kindness shall incite 
 thee ' to tie the knot." So good a critic as Cowden- 
 Clarke should have remembered that kindness in 
 Shakespeare, as in other writers of the time, is often 
 used in a much stronger sense than now. Schmidt, 
 in his Lexicon, puts fully one-third of the instances 
 in which the poet uses the word under the head of 
 ^' affection, tenderness, love ; " and this passage is 
 very properly one of the number. Another striking 
 one is in the 152d Sonnet : — 
 
 " For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindness. 
 Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy; " 
 
 where the second line explains the first. In this 
 speech of Beatrice kindness is evidently used for 
 variety of expression, the word love, in one form or 
 another, occurring in every one of the four lines. 
 The speech is really full of tender passion. It may 
 strike one at first as too strong an outburst of affec- 
 tion for so sudden a one — and from the sarcastic 
 Beatrice withal ! But, as Mrs. Jameson and others 
 
268 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 have noted, it was evident that Beatrice was ready 
 to fall in love with Benedick at the opening of the 
 play. Now that she believes him to be in love with 
 her, the response of her own heart is prompt and 
 unrestrained. No utterance of affection could be 
 more impulsive or more earnest. " Contempt, fare- 
 well ! and maiden pride, adieu ! " are almost her 
 first words ; and then follows that spontaneous and 
 clearly joyous apostrophe, — 
 
 " And, Benedick, love on ; I will requite thee, 
 Taming my wild heart to thy loving hand." 
 
 And at once she goes on to the pledge of marriage, 
 which no woman who did not love would have been 
 so quick to do. Juliet's prompt surrender of her- 
 self to E.omeo, when she is assured of his love, is 
 not more sudden and unreserved. She is not more 
 ready than Beatrice to look forward to the marriage 
 which is to be the crown and consummation of that 
 love. 
 
 When Don Pedro first suggested that Beatrice 
 would be an excellent wife for Benedick, Leonato 
 replied : " Lord ! if they were but a week married 
 they would talk themselves mad." Some of the 
 critics, as we have seen, have been confident that it 
 was an unfortunate match ; but, for myself, I have 
 no doubt that it was one of the marriages made in 
 heaven, and happy to the end. 
 
 The earliest reference to Twelfth Night that has 
 been found is in a manuscript diary of John Man- 
 
" The Golden Prime of Comedy " 269 
 
 ningham, a member of the Middle Temple, which is 
 preserved in the British Museum. The passage reads 
 thus : — 
 
 " Feb. 2, 1601 [-2]. At our feast, wee had a play 
 called Twelve N"ight, or What You Will. Much like 
 the Comedy of Errors, or Menechmi in Plautus ; but 
 most like and neere to that in Italian called In- 
 ganni. A good practise in it to make the steward 
 beleive his lady widdowe was in love with him, by 
 counterfayting a letter as from his lady in generall 
 termes, telling him what shee liked best in him, and 
 prescribing his gesture in smiling, his apparaile, etc., 
 and then when he came to practise, making him be- 
 leive they tooke him to be mad." 
 
 As the play is not in Meres's list, we may infer 
 that it was written between September, 1598, when 
 that book appeared, and February, 1602. It is 
 assigned by the majority of the critics to 1600 or 
 1601. 
 
 There are two Italian plays entitled GV Inganni 
 (The Deceits), published in the latter part of the 
 16th centur}^, and containing incidents somewhat 
 resembling those of Twelfth Night. In one of them 
 the sister who assumes male apparel bears the name 
 Cesare, which may have suggested Shakespeare's 
 Cesario. A third Italian play, GP Ingannati, has 
 even a closer likeness to Tivelfth Night, and in its 
 induction we find the name Malevolti, of which 
 Malvolio may be a variation. It has been recently 
 discovered (see the preface to Furness's "New Vari- 
 
270 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 orum " edition of tlie play) that a Latin translation 
 of th-is Italian drama, under the title of Lcelia (the 
 name of the heroine), was performed at Queen's Col- 
 lege, Cambridge, in 1590, and again in 1598. Shake- 
 speare's "small Latin" was large enough for the 
 reading of this play, and he may have been indebted 
 to it rather than any other source that has been sug- 
 gested. It has been generally assumed that he must 
 have read and used the version of the story by 
 Barnaby Eiche, in his History of Apolonius and Silla, 
 included in Biche His Farewell to Militarie Profes- 
 sion ; but Furness doubts that Shakespeare ever 
 read the " coarse repulsive novel." The resem- 
 blances between the story and the play are few and 
 slight, "Let nothing induce us to contaminate 
 the spotless "Viola and the haughty Olivia by the 
 remotest hint of a kinship with the weak Silla and 
 the brazen Julina." 
 
 From whichever source the dramatist derived the 
 hint of his plot, he owed to it only a few incidents 
 and the mere skeleton of some of the characters. 
 Malvolio, Sir Toby, Sir Andrew, Fabian, the Clown, 
 and Maria are entirely his own creation ; as indeed 
 all the other actors in the drama are in all that gives 
 them life and individuality. 
 
 "Twelfth Night was, in the olden times, the 
 season of universal festivity — of masques, pageants, 
 feasts, and traditionary sports. This comedy then 
 would not disappoint public expectation, when it 
 was found to contain a delightful combination of 
 
"The Golden Prime of Comedy" 271 
 
 the delicate fancy and romantic sentiment of the 
 poetic masque, with a crowd of revelling, laughing, 
 or laugh-creating personages, whose truth all would 
 recognise, and whose spirit and fun no gravity could 
 resist. He gave to these the revelling spirit, and 
 the exaggeration of character necessary for the 
 broadest comic effect, but still kept them from be- 
 coming mere buffoon masquers by a truth of por- 
 traiture which shows them all to be drawn from 
 real life. Malvolio — the matchless Malvolio — 
 was not only new in his day to comic delineation 
 of any sort, but I believe has never since had his 
 fellow or his copy in any succeeding play, poem, 
 essay, or novel. The gravity, the acquirement, the 
 real talent and accomplishment of the man, all 
 made ludicrous, fantastical, and absurd by his in- 
 tense vanity, is as true a conception as it is original 
 and droll, and its truth may still be frequently 
 attested by actual comparison with real Malvolios, 
 to be found everywhere, from humble domestic life 
 up to the high places of learning, of the State, and 
 even of the Church. Sir Toby certainly comes out 
 of the same associations where the poet saw Falstaff 
 hold his revels. He is not Sir John, nor a fainter 
 sketch of him, yet with an odd sort of family like- 
 ness to him. Dryden and other dramatists have 
 felicitated themselves upon success in grouping to- 
 gether their comic underplots with their more heroic 
 personages. But here all, grave and gay, the lovers, 
 the laughers, and the laughed-at, are made to har- 
 
2,72 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 monise in one scene and one common purpose " 
 (Verplanck). 
 
 Twelfth Night is the brightest and sunniest of 
 the three plays of Shakespeare's " golden prime of 
 comedy." As You Like It and Much Ado both have 
 a larger admixture of the serious and sentimental, 
 but that element in Twelfth Night is of the most 
 delicate and ethereal character. The play was 
 meant, as the title indicates, for the climax of the 
 holiday season, when the sport and revelry are at 
 their height, and sober occupations and serious 
 interests are laid aside and forgotten. Only enough 
 of the shadow of the workaday world is left to form 
 a background to the lively picture, and to remind 
 tis that life is not all pleasure and pastime, but 
 that after the Twelfth Night revels are over, the 
 morning brings back its duties and responsibilities 
 and "man goeth forth unto his labour until the 
 evening." 
 
 The Hall of the Middle Temple (see page 127 
 above), where the play was acted in 1602, was built 
 in 1572. It is one hundred feet long, forty-two feet 
 wide, and forty -seven feet high; and the roof is 
 the best specimen of Elizabethan architecture in 
 London. The exterior has been modified consider- 
 ably in more recent times, but the interior has 
 suffered only slight changes since Shakespeare's 
 day. 
 
 Hawthorne, in his E7iglish Note-Boohs, gives the 
 following description of the hall: "Truly it is 
 
" The Golden Prime of Comedy " 273 
 
 a most magnificent apartment ; very lofty, so lofty, 
 indeed, that the antique roof is quite hidden, as 
 regards all its details, in the sombre gloom that 
 broods under its rafters. The hall is lighted by 
 four great windows on each of the two sides, 
 descending halfway from the ceiling to the floor, 
 leaving all beneath enclosed by oaken panelling, 
 which on three sides is carved with escutcheons 
 of such members of the society as have held the 
 office of reader. There is likewise in a large recess 
 or transept a great window occupying the full 
 height of the hall and splendidly emblazoned with 
 the arms of the Templars who have attained to 
 the dignity of Chief -justices. The other windows 
 are pictured, in like manner, with coats of arms 
 of local dignities connected with the Temple; and 
 besides all these there are arched lights, high to- 
 wards the roof, at either end, full of richly and 
 chastely coloured glass; and all the illumination 
 that the great hall had came through these glorious 
 panes, and they seemed the richer for the sombre- 
 ness in which we stood. I cannot describe, or even 
 intimate, the effect of this transparent glory, glow- 
 ing down upon us in the gloomy depth of the hall. 
 The screen at the lower end is of carved oak, very 
 dark and highly polished, and as old" as Queen 
 Elizabeth's time. ... I am reluctant to leave this 
 hall without expressing how grave, how grand, how 
 sombre, and how magnificent I felt it to be. As 
 regards historical associations, it was a favourite 
 
274 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 dancing-hall of Queen Elizabeth, and Sir Christopher 
 Hatton danced himself into her good graces there." 
 The feasts of Christmas, Halloween, Candlemas, 
 and Ascension were formerly celebrated here with 
 great magnificence. A Master of the Eevels was 
 chosen, and the Lord Chancellor, Judges, and 
 Benchers opened the sports by dancing thrice 
 around the sea-coal fire. 
 
 " Full oft within the spacious walls, . 
 When he had fifty winters o'er him, 
 My grave Lord Keeper led the brawls ; 
 The Seal and Maces danced before him." 
 
 This judicial foolery was satirized by Bucking- 
 ham in The Rehearsal, by Prior in his Alma, and 
 by Donne in his Satires ; and Pope has his fling at 
 it in the Dunciad : — 
 
 -" The judge to dance, his brother ser jeant calls. " 
 
 It was in this hall at dinner-time that Mr. 
 Eichard Martin, the Bencher to whom Ben Jonson 
 dedicated his Poetaster, was thrashed by Sir John 
 Davies, who for this display of unruly temper was 
 expelled from the society. 
 
 There can be little doubt that Julius Ccesar 
 belongs to this period. It was first printed in the 
 folio of 1623, but was certainly written before 1601, 
 when it is alluded to in Weever's Mirror of Martyrs, 
 printed in that year, as follows : — 
 
" The Golden Prime of Comedy " 275 
 
 " The many-headed multitude were drawne 
 By Brutus' speech, that Csesar was ambitious ; 
 When eloquent Mark Antonie had showne 
 His vertues, who but Brutus then was vicious ? " 
 
 This was probably written in 1599, as the author 
 in his dedication says : " This poem, which I present 
 to your learned view, some two yeares ago waS 
 made fit for the print." The allusion cannot be 
 to Plutarch, who does not give the two speeches. 
 Those which are found in Appian, of whom an 
 English translation was published in 1578, have 
 no points of resemblance to Shakespeare's. 
 
 There were earlier plays on the same subject. 
 One in Latin, entitled "Epilogus Csesaris inter- 
 fecti," had been written as early as 1582, by Dr. 
 Eichard Eedes, and acted at Christ Church College, 
 Oxford. This was very likely the drama referred 
 to in Hamlet (iii. 2. 103 fol.) : — 
 
 ^'■Hamlet. My lord, you played once i' th' university, 
 you say? 
 
 Polonius. That did I, my lord, and was accounted 
 a good actor. 
 
 Hamlet. What did you enact ? 
 
 Polonius. I did enact Julius Caesar : I was killed i' th' 
 .Capitol; Brutus killed me." 
 
 Gosson also, in his Schoole of Abuse (1579), refers to 
 plays on the subject of Coesar and Pompey (Ward). 
 A Julius Ccesar was acted at Whitehall on the 1st 
 of February, 1562; and a Tragedy of Ccesar and 
 
276 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Pompey, or Ccesao-^s Revenge appears, according to 
 Craik, "to have been produced in 1594/' though, 
 the earliest dated edition (mentioned by Malone) 
 is of 1607. 
 
 But the only source to which Shakespeare appears 
 to have been indebted was Sir Thomas North's ver- 
 sion of PliitarcKs Lives (translated from the French 
 of Amyot), first published in 1579. He has followed 
 his authority closely, not only in the main incidents, 
 but often in the minutest details of the action. 
 This has been well stated by Gervinus in his 
 Shakespeare Commentaries : " The component parts 
 of tha drama are borrowed from the biographies of 
 Brutus and Caesar in such a manner that not only 
 the historical action in its ordinary course, but also 
 the single characteristic traits in incidents and 
 speeches, nay, even single expressions and words, 
 are taken from Plutarch; even such as are not 
 anecdotal or of an epigrammatic nature, even such 
 as one unacquainted with Plutarch would consider 
 in form and manner to be quite Shakespearian, and 
 which have not unfrequently been quoted as his 
 peculiar property, testifying to the poet's deep 
 knowledge of human nature. From the triumph 
 over Pompey (or rather over his sons), the silencing 
 of the two tribunes, and the crown offered at the 
 Lupercalian feast, until Caesar's murder, and from 
 thence to the battle of Philippi and the closing 
 words of Antony, which are in part exactly as 
 they were delivered, all in this play is essentially 
 
" The Golden Prime of Comedy " 277 
 
 Plutarch. The omens of Caesar's death, the warn- 
 ings of the angur and of Artemidorus, the absence 
 of the heart in the animal sacrificed, Calpurnia's 
 dream ; the peculiar traits of Caesar's character, his 
 superstition regarding the touch of barren women 
 in the course, his remarks about thin people like 
 Cassius ; all the circumstances about the conspiracy 
 where no oath was taken, the character of Ligarius, 
 the withdrawal of Cicero; the whole relation of 
 Portia to Brutus, her words, his reply, her subse- 
 quent anxiety and death; the circumstances of 
 Caesar's death, the very arts and means of Decius 
 Brutus to induce him to leave home, all the 
 minutest particulars of his murder, the behaviour 
 of Antony and its result, the murder of the poet 
 Cinna; further on, the contention between the re- 
 publican friends respecting Lucius Pella and the 
 refusal of the money, the dissension of the two con- 
 cerning the decisive battle, their conversation about 
 suicide, the appearance of Brutus's evil genius, the 
 mistakes in the battle, its double issue, its repeti- 
 tion, the suicide of both friends, and Cassius's 
 death by the same sword with which he killed 
 Caesar — all is taken from Plutarch's narrative, 
 from which the poet had only to omit whatever 
 destroyed the unity of the action." 
 
 It is evident, as Craik notes, that the character 
 and history of Caesar had taken a strong hold of 
 Shakespeare's imagination. There is perhaps no 
 other historical personage who is so often alluded 
 
278 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 to in the plays. After quoting illustrative passages 
 from As You Like It, 2 Henry IV., Henry V., the 
 three parts of Henry VL, Bichard III, Hamlet, 
 and Cymheline, Craik remarks: "These passages, 
 taken altogether, and some of them more particu- 
 larly, will probably be thought to afford a con- 
 siderably more comprehensive representation of 
 'the mighty Julius' than the play which bears his 
 name. We cannot be sure that that play was so 
 entitled by Shakespeare. 'The Tragedy of Julius 
 Csesar,' or 'The Life and Death of Julius Caesar,' 
 would describe no more than the half of it. Caesar's 
 part terminates with the opening of act iii. ; after 
 that, on to the end, we have nothing more of him 
 but his dead body, his ghost, and his memory. The 
 play might more fitly be called after Brutus than 
 after Caesar. And still more remarkable is the 
 partial delineation that we have of the man. "We 
 have a distinct exhibition of little else beyond his 
 vanity and arrogance, relieved and set off by his 
 good nature or affability. He is brought before 
 us only as 'the spoilt child of victory.' All the 
 grandeur and predominance of his character is kept 
 in the background, or in the shade — to be inferred, 
 at most, from what is said by the other dramatis 
 personce — by Cassius on the one hand and by 
 Antony on the other in the expression of their own 
 diametrically opposite natures and aims, and in 
 a very few words by the calmer, milder, and juster 
 Erutus — nowhere manifested by himself. If might 
 
" The Golden Prime of Comedy " 279 
 
 almost be suspected that the complete and full- 
 length Caesar had been carefully reserved for 
 another drama. . . . He is only a subordinate 
 character in the present play; his death is but an 
 incident in the progress of the plot." 
 
 Other critics have taken the same view of the 
 title of the play, and some have apologized for it. 
 Gervinus, for example, says that " it was fully 
 intended that Caesar should take but a small part in 
 the action," as the poet " had in his eye the whole 
 context of the Roman civil wars for this single 
 -drama." 
 
 It is true, as Hazlitt says, that in the play Caesar 
 " does nothing ; indeed, he has nothing to do." It 
 might be added that he has nothing even to say, in 
 the way of heroic utterance. But he is neverthe- 
 less the mainspring of the action, and appropriately 
 furnishes the title for the drama. He dies, it is 
 true, early in the third act; but his real action in 
 the play, paradoxical as it may seem at first, begins 
 with his death. He is, so to speak, a " very lively 
 corpse;" and Shakespeare has emphasized the fact 
 by several significant utterances. Note Antony's 
 graphic prophecy over the dead body of the Dictator 
 — the vision of the " domestic fury and fierce civil 
 strife " that are to follow the murder : — 
 
 " And Caesar's spirit, ranging for revenge, 
 Shall in these confines loitTi a monarch's voice 
 Cry Havoc ! and let slip the dogs of war." 
 
2,8o Life of Shakespeare 
 
 And later, how eloquently does Antony make " sweet 
 Caesar's wounds, poor, poor dumb mouths," speak 
 for him to the crowd in the forum, who rush to 
 "fire the traitors' houses" with the very brands 
 from the funeral pile of Csesar ! And Caesar is still 
 " the evil spirit " of the conspirators, as his ghost 
 warns Brutus on his first visit, and will " see him 
 again" on the battle-field of Philippi that is to 
 settle his fate. And there at Philippi both Brutus 
 and Cassius, as the dramatist takes pains to make 
 them tell us with their own mouths, die by the very 
 swords that had been turned against Caesar. As 
 Cassius falls, he cries : — 
 
 " Caesar, thou art revenged 
 Even with the sword that kill'd thee ! " 
 
 and Brutus, looking on the dead body of Cassius, 
 exclaims : — 
 
 " O Julius Csesar, thou art mighty yet ! 
 Thj spirit walks abroad, and turns our swords 
 In our own proper entrails." 
 
 It is not long before he verifies this by his own 
 suicide ; and again, in his last words, he pays tribute 
 to the power of the murdered Julius : — 
 
 " Csesar, now be still ; 
 I kill'd not thee with half so good a will." 
 
 Shakespeare meant that we should not fail to see 
 that Caesar, though dead, was indeed " mighty yet," 
 
"The Golden Prime of Comedy " 281 
 
 the ruling spirit, tlie Nemesis, of the latter half of 
 the play, making good his right to the honour given 
 him in the title, as he had nowise had the oppor- 
 tunity of doing in the first half. 
 
 The play was popular, and many allusions to it 
 are found in the literature of the time. Leonard 
 Digges, in the verses printed in the 1640 edition 
 of the Poems, tells us that it was more successful 
 than Ben Jonson's Roman dramas, and incidentally 
 refers to other of Shakespeare's plays. Addressing 
 the "needy Poetasters of this age," and advising 
 them to bring out their "lame blancke Verse" at 
 the inferior theatres, he adds : — 
 
 " I doe not wonder when you offer at 
 
 Blacke-Friers, that you suifer : tis the fate 
 
 Of richer veines, prime judgements that have far'd 
 
 The worse, with this deceased man [Shakespeare] com- 
 
 par'd. 
 So have I seene, when Cesar would appeare, 
 And on the Stage at halfe-sword parley were, 
 Brutus and Cassius : oh how the Audience 
 Were ravish'd, with what wonder they went thence, 
 When some new day they would not brooke a line 
 Of tedious (though well labour'd) Catiline ; 
 Sejanus too was irkesome, they priz'de more 
 Honest lago, or the jealous Moore. 
 And though the Fox and subtil AlcTiimist 
 Long intermitted could not quite be mist. 
 Though these have sham'd all the Ancients, and might 
 
 raise 
 Their Authours merit with a crowne of Bayes, 
 
282 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Yet these sometimes, even at a friends desire 
 Acted, have scarce defrai'd the Seacoale fire 
 And doore-keepers ; when let but Falstaffe come, 
 Hall, Poines, the rest you scarce shall have a roome 
 All is so pester'd [crowded] : let but Beatrice 
 And Benedicke be seene, loe in a trice 
 The Cockpit, Galleries, Boxes, all are full 
 To hear Malvoglio, that crosse garter' d Gull. 
 Briefe, there is nothing in his wit fraught Booke 
 Whose sound we would not heare, on whose worth looks 
 Like old coynd gold, whose lines in every page. 
 Shall passe true current to succeeding age. 
 But why doe I dead Shakespeares praise recite. 
 Some second Shakespeare must of Shakespeare write ; 
 For me tis needlesse, since an host of men 
 Will pay to clap his praise to free my pen." 
 
 The "wit-fraught book" is of course the folio of 
 1623, to which Digges, seventeen years earlier, had 
 contributed one of the prefatory poetical tributes, 
 in which he also refers to Julius Ccesar : — 
 
 *' Nor shall I e're beleeve, or thinke thee dead 
 
 (Though mist) untill our bankrout Stage be sped 
 
 (Impossible) with some new strain t' out-do 
 
 Passions of Juliet, and her Romeo ; 
 
 Or till I heare a Scene more nobly take, 
 
 Then [than] when thy half-Sword parlying Romans spake, 
 
 Till these, till any of thy Volumes rest 
 
 Shall with more fire, more feeling be exprest, 
 
 Be sure, our Shakespeare, thou canst never dye, 
 
 But crown'd with Laurell, live eternally." 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 DOMESTIC ANNALS, 1587-1605 
 
 We have seen that in 1578 John Shakespeare and 
 his wife mortgaged the Asbies estate to Edmund 
 Lambert for a loan of £40 ; and that the next year 
 they conveyed their interest in Snitterfield property, 
 likewise a part of the inheritance of Mary Arden 
 from her father, to Eobert Webbe for £4. 
 
 In 1587 they were taking measures for the re- 
 covery of Asbies. The loan remaining unpaid, and 
 the mortgage expiring in April of that year, they 
 threatened John Lambert, the son and heir of 
 Edmund, with a suit for the settlement of the 
 business. Lambert was naturally desirous that this 
 should be arranged without litigation, if possible, 
 and it was agreed that, on cancelling the mortgage 
 and paying £20, he should receive from the Shake- 
 speares an absolute title to the estate, or the best 
 title it was in their power to give. Having obtained 
 the assent of William, who was his mother's heir- 
 apparent, they were enabled to offer almost a perfect 
 security ; but it appears, from the records of subse- 
 quent litigation, that the intended compromise was 
 abandoned. 
 
 288 
 
284 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 It is not improbable that William made a visit to 
 Stratford in 1587 for a conference with his parents 
 concerning the Asbies mortgage. The sum of £20 
 (equivalent to from seven to ten times that amount 
 now)j to be paid in cash by Lambert, would have 
 been of great value to them in their financial diffi- 
 culties. It must have been a subject for anxious 
 deliberation, and could hardly have been arranged 
 without a personal interview between them and 
 William ; and if this occurred, it was doubtless in 
 Stratford, not in London. 
 
 There is no record of any further proceedings in 
 the Asbies matter until ten years later, in 1597, 
 when John and Mary Shakespeare brought a suit 
 against John Lambert for the recovery of the 
 estate. This was probably done at the instigation 
 of the dramatist, who doubtless furnished the means 
 for the prosecution of the suit. As his mother's 
 heir he had a prospective interest in the success of 
 the litigation. " There were not merely the associa- 
 tions twining around the possession of a family 
 estate to stimulate a desire for its restoration, but 
 there was nearly at hand a very large increase in 
 its annual value through the termination of a lease 
 under which all but the dwelling was held from 
 1580 to 1601 at the inadequate rental of half a 
 quarter of wheat and half a quarter of barley. Our 
 knowledge of the course taken by the plaintiffs in 
 furtherance of their object is imperfect, Lambert, 
 in his answer to the above-mentioned bill, declaring 
 
Domestic Annals, 1 587-1 605 285 
 
 that another one of like import had been afterwards 
 exhibited against him by John Shakespeare in his 
 individual capacity, and of this independent action 
 no explanatory records have been discovered. The 
 mere facts, however, of the last-named siiit having 
 been instituted, and of John Shakespeare hav- 
 ing taken out two commissions under it for the 
 examination of witnesses, show that there was a 
 tolerably well-furnished purse at his disposal, a cir- 
 cumstance which, unless the expenses were borne by 
 the poet, is difficult to reconcile with the plaintive 
 appeal of his wife and himself when they asked the 
 court to bear in mind that 'the sayde John Lam- 
 berte ys of greate wealthe and abilitie, and well 
 frended and alied amongest gentlemen and free- 
 holders of the countrey in the saide countie of 
 Warwicke, where he dwelleth, and your saide ora- 
 tours are of small wealthe, and verey fewe frends 
 and alyance in the saide countie.' The terms of 
 this sample of legal policy must be attributed to 
 the counsel, but the facts, so far at least as they 
 affect the parents of the great dramatist, were no 
 doubt correctly stated. It appears that the suit was 
 carried on for very nearly two years, publication hav- 
 ing been granted in October, 1599, but, as no decree 
 is recorded, it is all but certain that either the 
 plaintiffs retired from the contest, or there was a 
 compromise in favour of the possession of the land 
 by the defendants. Had it been otherwise, some- 
 thing must have been afterwards heard of the 
 
286 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Shakespearean ownership of the estate " (Halliwell- 
 Phillipps). 
 
 In 1596 the poet's only son died, and was buried 
 on the 11th of August at Stratford. He also lost 
 his uncle Henry, the farmer of Snitterfield, during 
 the Christmas holidays, in which his company had 
 the honour of performing twice before Elizabeth at 
 Whitehall. 
 
 The records concerning the poet's own family 
 after he went to London are few and slight, but 
 they doubtless continued to reside in his native 
 town. Tradition says that he visited Stratford once 
 a year, and, as soon as he was able, he began to 
 make arrangements for again establishing his home 
 there. 
 
 In the spring of 1597 he made his first invest- 
 ment in real estate by the purchase of New Place, 
 a mansion with nearly an acre of land in the centre 
 of Stratford. He paid £60 for it, a moderate price 
 for such a property, but in a document of about 
 1549 it is described as having then been for some 
 time " in great ruyne and decay and unrepayred," 
 so that it was probably in a dilapidated condition 
 when it was transferred to Shakespeare. There are 
 reasons for believing that it was renovated by the 
 new owner ; but whatever may have been its state 
 of repair at the time of its acquisition, it was un- 
 questionably one of the largest dwellings in the 
 town. Sir Hugh Clopton, for whom it was erected, 
 speaks of it in 1496 as his " great house," a title by 
 
Domestic Annals, 1587-1605 287 
 
 which it was popularly known at Stratford for up- 
 wards of two centuries; but scarcely any details 
 concerning its architecture have been discovered. 
 We know, however, that it was mainly built of 
 brick, on stone foundations, that it was gabled, and 
 that there was a bay-window on the eastern or 
 garden side, but little beyond this. Two eye-wit- 
 nesses only, out of the numbers who had seen the 
 building previously to its destruction, have left 
 memorials, and those but slight notices, of its ap- 
 pearance. Leland, who wrote about the year 1540, 
 simply describes it as " a praty house of bricke and 
 tymbre," words which may imply either that the 
 upper part was formed entirely of wood or that 
 there were large portions of brickwork in the outer 
 walls. There is no genuine drawing or engraving 
 of the mansion as it appeared in the sixteenth or 
 seventeenth centuries. The earliest existing sketch 
 was made about the year 1715, after the house had 
 been demolished and rebuilt by Sir John Clopton, 
 into whose possession it came through his wife, in 
 1677. He modified the ground-plan, and apparently 
 changed the whole construction of the house. 
 
 Theobald, who was acquainted with Sir Hugh 
 Clopton (upon whom Sir John settled it), was told 
 by that gentleman that Shakespeare " repaired and 
 modelled it [New Place] to his own mind," as he 
 naturally would have done with an old dilapidated 
 house that he had bought for his future residence. 
 
 In 1596 John Shakespeare, doubtless on his son's 
 
288 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 advice and at his expense, applied to the College 
 of Heralds for a coat-of-arms. In the application 
 he stated that in 1568, when he was bailiff of Strat- 
 ford and a justice of the peace, he had obtained 
 from Robert Cook, the Clarenceux herald, a "pat- 
 tern" or sketch of an armorial coat. As this alle- 
 gation is not noticed in the records of the College, 
 Sidney Lee suggests that it " may be a formal fic- 
 tion designed by John Shakespeare and his son to 
 recommend their claim to the notice of the heralds." 
 But Mrs. Stopes (^Shakepeare' s Family, 1901) be- 
 lieves that John may have told the truth. She 
 quotes Sir John Feme (^The Glorie of Generositie, 
 1586), who says: "If any person be advanced into 
 an ofiBce or dignity of publique administration, be 
 it eyther Ecclesiasticall, Martiall, or Civill, . . . 
 the Herald must not refuse to devise to such a 
 publique person, upon his instant request, and will- 
 ingness to bear the same without reproche, a Coate 
 of Armes, and thenceforth to matriculate him with 
 his intermarriages and issues descending in the 
 Register of the gentle and the noble. ... In the 
 Civil or Political State divers offices of dignitie 
 and worship doe merite Coates of Armes to the pos- 
 sessours of the same offices, as . . . Bailiffs of 
 Cities and ancient Boroughs or incorporated townes." 
 John Shakespeare had certainly been bailiff of 
 Stratford in 1568, and we know that he was an 
 ambitious man. The draft says that he then applied 
 for arms, and that Cook sent him a "pattern." 
 
Domestic Annals, 1 587-1 605 289 
 
 Probably, as Mrs. Stopes suggests, he did not con- 
 clude the negotiations at that time, thinking the 
 fees too heavy, or he might have delayed until he 
 found his opportunity lost. The story of this 
 draft, or the sight of it, may have stimulated the 
 son to honour his parents by having them enrolled 
 among the " armigeri " of the county. 
 
 In the 1596 application the claims are based on 
 John's public office, on a grant to his "antecessors" 
 by Henry VII. for special services, and on marriage 
 with the daughter and heir of a gentleman of wor- 
 ship. Then a fuller draft was made out, also in 
 1596, changing "antecessors" to "grandfather." 
 
 On the 20th of October, 1596, a draft was pre- 
 pared under the direction of William Dethick, 
 Garter King-at-Arms, granting John Shakespeare's 
 request for a coat-of-arms; and the same is de- 
 scribed thus : " Gold, on a bend sable, a spear of 
 the first, and for his crest or cognizance a falcon, 
 his wings displayed argent, standing on a wreath 
 of his colours, supporting a spear gold steeled as 
 aforesaid." A pen sketch of the arms and crest is 
 put in the margin, and above them the motto, " Kon 
 Sans Droict." 
 
 Neither of the drafts made in 1596 was duly ex- 
 ecuted, and three years passed, so far as any records 
 indicate, before £he effort to secure the desired end 
 was renewed. In 1599 John addressed a new ap- 
 plication to the heralds, in which he stated that the 
 coat-of-arms described in the drafts of 1596 had 
 
290 ' Life of Shakespeare 
 
 been " assigned " to him while he was bailiff, and he 
 now asks for a " recognition " or " exemplification " 
 of it. He also requests that he and his son may be 
 allowed to quarter on the coat that of the Ardens 
 of Wilmecote, his wife's family. The heralds ac- 
 cordingly prepared a draft granting the desired 
 " exemplification " and quartering ; but after trick- 
 ing the coat of the Warwickshire Ardens in the 
 margin of the draft, they substituted the arms of 
 the Ardens of Alvanley in Cheshire. 
 
 Sidney Lee believes that this change was made 
 because the Warwickshire relationship was doubt- 
 ful, and the family " were certain to protest against 
 any hasty assumption of identity between their line 
 and that of the humble farmer of Wilmecote." So 
 the heralds substituted the arms of another Arden 
 family living so far away that they were not likely 
 to learn of the suggested impalement of their arms 
 with the Shakespeare shield, and " the heralds were 
 less liable to the risk of litigation." "But the 
 Shakespeares wisely relieved the College of all 
 anxiety by omitting to assume the Arden coat." 
 
 This explanation, discreditable alike to the Shake- 
 speares and to the heralds, is highly improbable. 
 If the heralds feared to take the risk of granting 
 the impalement of the Warwickshire coat, it is un- 
 likely that they would have ventured to substitute 
 the arms of a Cheshire family with which, as 
 Mr. Lee himself says, "there was no pretence that 
 Robert Arden of Wilmecote was lineally connected." 
 
Domestic Annals, 1 587-1605 291 
 
 They are supposed not only to have run the risk 
 of being detected in the fraud, but also of be- 
 ing unable to give any plausible reason for their 
 action; while in the other case they might have 
 pleaded that they had been led to believe there 
 was a relationship between Mary Arden and the 
 great Warwickshire family bearing the name. The 
 Shakespeares apparently were not disposed to urge 
 the petition for the impalement and quartering, 
 as they refrained from taking advantage of it after 
 it was granted. They would have run no risk in 
 doing this, as they had not asked for the use of the 
 Alvanley coat, and the heralds were alone respon- 
 sible for permitting it. 
 
 Mrs. Stopes gives a more satisfactory explanation 
 (see page 26). The arms of the elder branch of the 
 Ardens were those of the old Earls of Warwick; 
 the younger branches took the arms of the Beau- 
 champs, with a difference. The heralds made the 
 change in their sketch of the impalement because 
 " Mary Arden was an heiress, not in the eldest line, 
 but through a second son ; " and the substituted 
 arms were those borne, for a similar reason, by the 
 Alvanley Ardens. The heralds " were only seeking 
 correctness in their draft of the restitution of the 
 Ardens' arms." 
 
 John Shakespeare died in 1601, only two years 
 after his final application for the coat-of-arms. 
 Whether the grant was completed before his death 
 or not, there is no record of his using the impaled 
 
292 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Arden arms. Whether his son ever used it we do not 
 know, but the impalement does not aj)pear on any 
 of the tombs or seals that have been preserved. 
 He certainly used the Shakespeare arms; and he 
 may have felt after obtaining them that they had 
 become honourable enough, without displaying the 
 connection with the Ardens. In 1599 William 
 Shakespeare had made a name for himself that 
 needed no borrowed lustre from ancestral rank. 
 
 Two years or more later, objection was made to 
 Shakespeare's arms on the ground that they bore 
 too close a resemblance to those of Lord Mau- 
 ley, but the heralds answered that certain other 
 coats were quite as much like Mauley's, and that 
 the spear in Shakespeare's was a "patible differ- 
 ence." The heralds add with regard to the latter 
 coat that " the person to which it was granted hath 
 borne magistracy, and was justice of peace at 
 Stratford-upon-Avon." This case, as appears from 
 the answer of the heralds, was one of twenty-three 
 concerning which exceptions were taken. 
 
 Shakespeare went to London in 1585 or 1586 a 
 penniless adventurer, but in 1597 we find him in- 
 vesting his surplus income in the purchase of the 
 best house in Stratford. The sources of his pros- 
 perity have been the subject of no little discussion 
 among the biographers and critics, but there is 
 nothing particularly mysterious about the matter. 
 It is evident that he soon gained reputation both as 
 an actor and as an author, and in both capacities 
 
Domestic Annals, 1 587-1605 293 
 
 made money. The actor's business was then lucrative 
 enough to attract the attention and excite the envy 
 of pamphleteers. In Batseis Ghost (1605) there is a 
 passage in point which, as some critics believe, may 
 allude to Shakespeare. Eatsey meets certain play- 
 ers and gets them to perform for his amusement. 
 In return he gives them forty shillings and some 
 gratuitous advice : — 
 
 "And for you, sirra, sales hee to the chief est of 
 them, thou hast a good presence upon a stage; me- 
 thinks thou darkenst thy merite by playing in the 
 country. Get thee to London, for, if one man were 
 dead, they will have much neede of such a one as 
 thou art. There would be none in my opinion fitter 
 then thyselfe to play his parts. My conceipt is 
 such of thee, that I durst venture all the mony in 
 my purse on thy head to play Hamlet with him for 
 a wager. There thou shalt learne to be f rugall, — 
 for players were never so thriftie as they are now 
 about London — and to feed upon all men, to let 
 none feede upon thee ; to make thy hand a stranger 
 to thy pocket, thy hart slow to perform e thy 
 tongues promise; and when thou feelest thy purse 
 well lined, buy thee some place or lordship in the 
 country, that, growing weary of playing, thy mony 
 may there bring thee to dignitie and reputation ; 
 then thou needest care for no man, nor not for them 
 that before made thee prowd with speaking their 
 words upon the stage. Sir, I thanke you, quoth 
 the player, for this good counsell ; I promise you I 
 
294 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 will make use of it, for I have lieard, indeede, of 
 some that have gone to London very meanly, and 
 have come in time to be exceeding wealthy. And 
 in this presage and propheticall humor of mine, 
 sayes Ratsey, kneele downe — Eise up. Sir Simon 
 Two Shares and a Half e ; thou art now one of my 
 knights, and the first knight that ever was player 
 in England. The next time I meete thee, I must 
 share with thee againe for playing under my war- 
 rant, and so for this time adiew." 
 
 If the actor got a share in the theatre or its 
 profits, it added materially to his income, but Shake- 
 speare did not attain to this until 1599, after the 
 Globe theatre was built. Greene, in his Groats- 
 worth of Wit, makes a player boast that his share in 
 "the stage apparel would be cheap at £200." In 
 The Return from Parnassus (1606), Kemp addresses 
 the two Cambridge students who had requested him 
 and Burbage to give them instruction, as follows : 
 "Be merry, lads; you have happened upon the 
 most excellent vocation in the world for money: 
 they come north and south to bring it to our play- 
 house." An epigram entitled " Theatrum Licentia," 
 in Laquei Bidiculosi (1613), reads thus : — 
 
 " Cotta 's become a Player, most men know, 
 And will no longer take such toyling paines ; 
 
 For here 's the spring (saith he) whence pleasm-es flow, 
 And brings them damnable excessive gaines ; 
 
 That now are cedars growne from shrubs and sprigs. 
 
 Since Greene's Tu Quoque, and those Garlicke Jigs." 
 
Domestic Annals, 1 587-1 605 295 
 
 Greene's Tu Quoque was a very popular comic piece, 
 and "Garlicke Jigs " is an allusion to certain dances 
 that were much in favour with the " groundlings." 
 
 Shakespeare's annual income as an actor before 
 1599, according to Sidney Lee, is "not likely to 
 have fallen below £100 ; while the remuneration 
 due to performances at Court or in noblemen's 
 houses, if the accounts of 1594 be accepted as the 
 basis of reckoning, added some £15." 
 
 His work as a dramatist was far less remunera- 
 tive. The highest price paid for a play before 
 1599, so far as we know, was £11, and the lowest 
 was £6, to which some small amount was added 
 as a gratuity if a play was particularly successful, 
 and the author received a certain share of the re- 
 ceipts as a "benefit" on a second production. For 
 revising an old play (such work as Shakespeare 
 probably began with as a writer) £4 was sometimes 
 paid. 
 
 Shakespeare's income from the revision and writ- 
 ing of plays up to 1599 can hardly have brought 
 him more than £20 a year, which, added to £110 
 or £115 from acting, would make his entire income 
 £130 or £135, equal to from seven to ten times that 
 amount in modern money. 
 
 The quarto editions of his plays published at this 
 time and afterwards were probably all piratical ven- 
 tures which yielded him nothing. From the suc- 
 cessive editions of his poems, which were published 
 by his friend Field, and evidently under his per- 
 
296 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 sonal supervision, lie may have received something, 
 but we have no means of estimating how much. 
 
 According to Kowe, the poet once received a gift 
 of a thousand pounds from his generous patron, the 
 Earl of Southampton. The amount (equal to at 
 least £7,000, or about $35,000 now) is quite certainly 
 exaggerated ; but it is probable that there is a 
 basis of truth in the tradition. Southampton, who 
 was so liberal to others, can hardly have omitted to 
 make some substantial acknowledgment of the com- 
 pliment paid him in the dedications of Venus and 
 Adonis and Lucrece. 
 
 Shakespeare, unlike the great majority of men of 
 genius, was eminently shrewd and practical. He 
 knew how to make and invest money, and such a 
 man is not likely to waste it. Besides taking care 
 of his own family in Stratford, we have reason to 
 believe that he helped to restore the fallen fortunes 
 of his father, and to furnish the means for the 
 Asbies litigation and the expenses of obtaining 
 the coat-of-arms. The purchase of New Place in 
 1597 was followed by outlays for the renovation of 
 the mansion, and adding other lands to the estate. 
 A few years later, in 1602, he makes the large in- 
 vestment of £320 in the purchase of one hundred 
 and seven acres of land near Stratford. 
 
 Halliwell-Phillipps suggests that this acquisition 
 may be referred to by Crosse in his Vertues Com- 
 monwealth, 1603, when he says of the actors and 
 dramatists of the period : " A.s these copper-lace 
 
Domestic Annals, 1 587-1605 297 
 
 gentlemen growe rich, purchase lands by adulterous 
 playes, and not f ewe of them usurers and extortion- 
 ers, which they exhaust out of the purses of their 
 haunters, so are they puft up in such pride and 
 selfe-love as they envie their equalles and scorne 
 theyr inferiours." 
 
 In the same year (1602) Shakespeare bought a 
 cottage and garden, situated in Chapel Lane oppo- 
 site the lower grounds of New Place. The land 
 was a quarter of an acre in area, with a frontage of 
 forty feet on the lane. 
 
 In July, 1605, he paid £440 for the unexpired 
 term of the moiety of a lease of the tithes of Strat- 
 ford, Old Stratford, Bishopton, and Welcombe. The 
 lease was made in 1544 for a term of ninety-two 
 years, and therefore had thirty-one years to run 
 when Shakespeare purchased an interest in it. His 
 annual income from it was £38, according to Halli- 
 well-Phillipps, " but it was necessarily of a fluctuat- 
 ing character, the probability, however, being that 
 there was a tendency towards increase, especially in 
 the latter part of his career. It is most likely that 
 he entered into an agreement each year with a col- 
 lector, whose province it would have been to relieve 
 him of all trouble in the matter, and pay over a 
 stipulated amount. It is not probable that he him- 
 self visited the harvest field to mark, as was then 
 the local practice, every tenth sheaf with a dock, or 
 that he personally attended to the destination of 
 each of his tithe-pigs." 
 
298 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Although this purchase of the tithes involved 
 Shakespeare in considerable litigation from time to 
 time, on account of the conflicting interests involved, 
 it was quite certainly a good investment. This may- 
 be inferred from the fact that his son-in-lavr John 
 Hall, in August, 1624, disposed of his interest in 
 the remainder of the lease for £400, the Stratford 
 corporation being the purchaser; that is to say, 
 after Shakespeare and his heirs had received the 
 income for nineteen years, the value of the re- 
 mainder '(about two-fifths) was reckoned as more 
 than ninety per cent, of the original cost. 
 
 Shakespeare's income in 1599, as we have seen, 
 was probably £130 or £135. After the building of 
 the Globe theatre in the latter part of that year, the 
 Burbages leased for twenty-one years shares in the 
 receipts to " those deserving men, Shakespeare, Hem- 
 ings, Condell, Phillips, and others," all of whom 
 were players in Shakespeare's company. There were 
 sixteen shares in all, of which Shakespeare probably 
 had two. The receipts of the theatre are supposed 
 to have been about £8000 a year ; and in 1635 an 
 actor who owned a share is known from documentary 
 evidence to have received from it more than £200 a 
 year, in addition to his salary of £180 as player. 
 The income from the shares may not have been so 
 large in 1600-1610, but Shakespeare must have 
 received from the theatre at least £500 a year. 
 
 In the latter part of 1609 Shakespeare acquired 
 an interest in a lease of the Blackfriars theatre, in 
 
 1 
 
Domestic Annals, 1587-1605 299 
 
 connection with Hemings, Condell, and others; and 
 this is estimated to have added some £100 to his 
 income from that date. 
 
 From 1599 the returns from his plays also in- 
 creased. Higher prices were obtained for new plays, 
 averaging £20 or more ; and performances at Court 
 were more frequent and probably better paid. The 
 Eev. John Ward, vicar of Stratford in 1661-63, may 
 not have exaggerated much in saying that in his 
 last years the poet " spent at the rate of a thousand 
 a year." Of course there were some sources of 
 revenue besides these already mentioned ; as rents 
 from houses and lands in Stratford and vicinity, 
 profits from the sale of agricultural produce, in 
 which he traded, etc. 
 
 Some of the poet's transactions led to lawsuits 
 against delinquent debtors. In 1600, for instance, 
 he brought an action against one John Clayton for 
 £7 due, and obtained a verdict for the recovery of 
 the amount. Again, in 1604, it appears, from a 
 declaration filed in the Stratford court, that he had 
 sold to one Philip Eogers several bushels of malt at 
 various times between March 27th and the end of 
 May, 1604, and that the latter did not pay the debt 
 thus incurred, amounting to £1 19s. lOd.-, and on 
 June 25th Eogers borrowed two shillings of the 
 poet, making in all £2 Is. lOd. Six shillings of this 
 were afterwards paid, and the action was brought 
 to recover the balance. We find record of other 
 suits of the kind in 1608 and 1609. 
 
300 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 The only epistolary correspondence in "which 
 Shakespeare was a party, and the only letter ad- 
 dressed to him, which are extant, have reference 
 to business affairs. In January, 1598, Abraham 
 Sturley writes from Stratford to his brother-in-law, 
 Eichard Quiney, who was in London, where the poet 
 also was at that time, as follows : — 
 
 " Most loving and belovedd in the Lord, — in plaine 
 Englishe we remember u in the Lord, and ourselves unto 
 u. I would write nothinge unto u nowe, but come home. 
 I prai God send u comfortabli home. This is one speciall 
 remembrance from ur fathers motion. Itt seemeth bi 
 him that our countriman, Mr. Shaksper, is willinge to 
 disburse some monei upon some od yarde land or other 
 att Shotterie or neare about us ; he thinketh it a veri fitt 
 patterne to move him to deale in the matter of our tithes. 
 Bi the instruccions u can geve him thearof, and bi the 
 frendes he can make therefore, we thinke it a faire marke 
 for him to shoote att, and not unpossible to hitt. It 
 obtained would advance him in deede, and would do us 
 muche good. Hoc movere, et quantum in te est per- 
 movere, ne necligas, hoc enim et sibi et nobis maximi erit 
 momenti. Hie labor, hie opus esset eximie et glorise et 
 laudis sibi. U shall understande, brother, that our neigh- 
 bours are growne with the wantes they feele throughe 
 the dearnes of corne, which heare is beionde all other 
 countries that I can heare of deare and over deare, 
 malecontent." 
 
 Kichard Quiney, who was a leading business man 
 in Stratford, was in London that year, endeavouring. 
 
Domestic Annals, 1 587-1 605 301 
 
 to arrange important matters for the town, includ- 
 ing the grant of a new charter and relief from a 
 subsidy. He was not well furnished with means 
 for conducting these affairs, the corporation having 
 trouble and delay in procuring the necessary funds. 
 Eichard was also embarrassed on his own account, 
 and later applied to Shakespeare for the large loan 
 of £30. It is doubtful, however, whether the letter 
 containing this request was ever forwarded to the 
 poet. At any rate, it somehow got into the Strat- 
 ford archives, probably on the death of Richard in 
 his year of oflB.ce. Perhaps he and Shakespeare hap- 
 pened to meet about the time when the letter was 
 written, and arranged the business orally. The 
 letter reads thus : — 
 
 " Loveinge contreyman, — I am bolde of yow, as of a 
 ffrende, craveinge yowr helpe with xxx. II. vppon Mr. 
 Bushells and my securytee, or Mr. Myttons with me. Mr. 
 Eosswell is nott come to London as yeate, and I have 
 especiall cawse. Yow shall tfrende me muche in helpeing 
 me out of all the debettes I owe in London, I thancke 
 God, and muche quiet my mynde, which wolde nott be 
 indebeted. I am nowe towardes the Cowrte, in hope of 
 answer for the dispatche of my buysenes. Yow shall 
 nether loase creddytt nor monney by me, the Lorde 
 wyllinge; and nowe butt perswade yowrselfe soe, as I 
 hope, and yow shall nott need to feare butt with all hartie 
 thanckefullenes I wyll holde my tyme and content yowr 
 ffrende, and yf we bargaine farther, yow shal be the paie- 
 master yowrselfe. My tyme biddes me hastene to an 
 
 « • 
 
302 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 ende, and soe I commit thys [to] yowr care, and hope 
 of yowr helpe. I feare I shall nott be backe thys night 
 ffrom the Cowrte. Haste. The Lorde be with yow and 
 with vs all, Amen ! ffrom the Bell in Carter Lane, the 
 25 October, 1598. 
 
 " Yowrs in all kyndenes, 
 
 "Ryc. Quyney." 
 
 The letter is addressed, "To my loveinge good 
 ffrend and countreymann Mr. Wm, Shackesperre 
 deliver thees." 
 
 An undated letter, written by Adrian Quiney to 
 Kichard in London, in 1598 or 1599, contains this 
 passage : — 
 
 " Yff yow bargen with Wm. Sha ... or receve money 
 therf or, brynge youre money homme that yow maye ; 
 and see howe knite stockynges be sold ; ther ys gret 
 byinge of them at Aysshome. Edward Wheat and 
 Harrye, youre brother man, were both at Evyshome thys 
 daye senet, and, as I harde, bestowe 20li ther in knyt 
 hosse ; wherefore I thynke yow maye doc good, yff yow 
 can have money." 
 
 The following is a portion of a very long letter 
 written by Sturley to Eichard Quiney, November 
 4th, 1598 : — 
 
 " All health, happines of suites and wellf are, be multi- 
 plied unto u and ur labours in God our Father bi Christ 
 our Lord. Ur letter of the 25. of Octobr came to mi 
 handes the laste of the same att night per Grenwai, which 
 imported a stai of suites bi Sr. Ed. Gr. advise, untill &c., 
 and that onli u should foUowe on for tax and sub. 
 
Domestic Annals, 1 587-1605 303 
 
 presentli, and allso ur travell and hinderance of answere 
 therein bi ur longe travell and th affaires of the Courte ; 
 and that our countriman Mr. Wm. Shak. would procure 
 us monei, which I will like of as I shall heare when, and 
 wheare, and howe ; and I prai let not go that occasion if 
 it mai sorte to ani indifferent condicions. Allso that if 
 monei might be had for 30 or 40L, a lease, &c., might be 
 procured. Oh howe can u make dowbt of monei, who 
 will not beare xxx.tie or xl.s. towardes sutch a match! 
 The latter end of ur letter which concerned ur houshold 
 affaires I delivered presentli. Nowe to ur other letter of 
 the I'* of Novmbr receved the 3d. of the same. I 
 would I weare with u ; nai, if u continue with hope of 
 those suietes u wrighte of, I thinke I shall wt. concent ; 
 and I will most willingli come unto u, as had u but 
 advise and compani, and more monei presente, much 
 might be done to obtaine our charter enlargd, ij. faires 
 more, with tole of corne, bestes and sheepe, and a matter 
 of more valewe then all that ; for (sai u) all this is 
 nothinge that is in hand, seeinge it will not rise to 80^., 
 and the charges wil be greate. What this matter of more 
 valewe meaneth I cannot undrstand; but me thinketh 
 whatsoever the good would be, u are afraid of want of 
 monei. Good thinges in hand or neare hand can not 
 choose but be worth monei to bringe to hand, and, beinge 
 assured, will, if neede be, bringe monei in their mouthes, 
 there is no feare nor dowbte." 
 
 Further on the letter contains some quaint hy- 
 gienic advice which is worth quoting : — 
 
 " Take heed of tobacco whereof we heare per Wm. 
 Perri ; against ani longe journei u mai undertake on foote 
 
304 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 of necessiti, oi' wherein the exercise of ur bodi must be 
 imploied, drinke some good burned wine, or aqavitse and 
 ale strongli mingled without bread for a toste, and, above 
 all, kepe u warme." 
 
 The Greenway mentioned in the letter was the 
 Stratford carrier, the people of the town being well 
 contented in those days if they received letters 
 from London once a week. 
 
 Eichard Quiney was descended from his name- 
 sake, the Master of the Guild of Stratf ord-on-Avon 
 in the time of Henry VIII. He was one of the 
 leading tradesmen of the town, his father Adrian 
 and himself being well-to-do mercers, who then 
 dealt, at least in Warwickshire, not only in silk and 
 cloth goods, but in such articles as ginger, sugar, 
 and red-lead. Throughout the reign of Elizabeth 
 the Quineys were influential members of the cor- 
 poration, and were thus brought into contact with 
 the poet's father during his official career. In Jan- 
 uary, 1572, John Shakespeare was nominated, with 
 Adrian Quiney, then bailiff, to undertake the man- 
 agement of some important legal business connected 
 with the affairs of the town, Richard Quiney, who 
 married in 1580 the daughter and sole heiress of one 
 Thomas Philipps, another of the Stratford mercers, 
 was bailiff in 1592-1593 and again in 1601-1602, 
 dying in the year last mentioned after a few weeks' 
 illness, and before his term of office had expired. 
 After his decease, his widow, Elizabeth, kept a 
 
Domestic Annals, 1 587-1605 305 
 
 tavern. Her son Thomas afterwards married Judith. 
 Shakespeare, the poet's younger daughter. 
 
 Neither Mrs. Quiney nor Judith could write even 
 their own names. " There were no free-schools for 
 girls, and home education was, as a rule, the privi- 
 lege of a section of the higher classes ; so when 
 Judith Shakespeare was invited in December, 1611, 
 to be a subscribing witness to two instruments re- 
 specting a house at the southeast corner of Wood 
 Street, then being sold by Mrs. Quiney to one 
 William Mountford for the large sum of £131, in. 
 both instances her attestations were executed with, 
 marks." 
 
 John Shakespeare, as already mentioned, died in 
 September, 1601, his funeral having taken place 
 on the 8th of that month. No record of the site 
 of his grave has been discovered, and all traces of 
 a sepulchral memorial, if one were ever erected, 
 either within or without the church, have entirely 
 disappeared. He left no will, so far as is known, 
 and his son inherited the Henley Street property. 
 His widow continued to reside in one of the tene- 
 ments, and the other was rented. 
 
CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THEATRICAL AFFAIRS, 1595-1605. 
 
 When Shakespeare first came to London, there 
 were, as we have seen, only two theatres in the city 
 or its suburbs, the Theatre and the Curtain, both 
 in Shoreditch. In February, 1592, a third play- 
 house, the Rose, was opened by the actor and 
 manager, Philip Hen si owe. It was situated on 
 the Bankside in South wark, and "was doubtless 
 the earliest scene of Shakespeare's pronounced suc- 
 cesses alike as actor and dramatist." In 1594 he 
 was connected with another new theatre at New- 
 ington Butts; and later (1595-1599) he returned 
 to the Theatre and the Curtain. The latter play- 
 house was kept up until after his death, but the 
 Theatre was torn down in 1599, and most of the 
 materials used by the Burbages in the erection of 
 the Globe on the Bankside. From the opening of 
 this theatre until he gave up acting it appears to 
 have been the only one with which he was regularly 
 connected. 
 
 The Blackfriars theatre, originally a dwelling- 
 house converted into a theatre by James Burbage 
 in 1596, was in the city, not far from the northern 
 
 306 
 
Theatrical Affairs, 1 595-1 605 307 
 
 end of the present Blackfriars bridge. The site 
 is commemorated by Play House Yard, which now 
 has no theatrical suggestions except the name, but 
 resounds with the roar of the engines and presses 
 in the printing offices of the Times. 
 
 Blackfriars gets its name from the Dominican 
 monks, who came to England in 1221 and first 
 settled on the land now occupied by Lincoln's Inn, 
 but in 1276 moved to the banks of the Thames, 
 where they built a splendid monastery and church. 
 Here Edward I. deposited the heart of his beloved 
 Eleanor, and here many eminent men and women 
 were afterwards buried. Here also several Parlia- 
 ments held their sessions, incliiding the "Black 
 Parliament,'* which took its name from the locality. 
 The monastery has historical associations with 
 Shakespeare, aside from his connection with the 
 theatre that later occupied the site; for it was here 
 that the trial of Katherine of Arragon took place 
 in 1529, when the two cardinals, Wolsey and 
 Campeggio, sate in judgment upon that "poor weak 
 woman fallen from favour " (Henry VIII. iii. 1, 20) ; 
 and here, a few months later Parliament pro- 
 nounced its sentence of condemnation against 
 Wolsey himself. 
 
 It was at the Blackfriars theatre, in September, 
 1598, that Shakespeare played a leading part in 
 Ben Jonson's Every Man in His Humour, after 
 having secured the acceptance of the play which 
 the manager was on the point of refusing (Eowe). 
 
3o8 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 The plan to establish the Blackfriars theatre in 
 1596 was strenuously opposed by the inhabitants of 
 the district. Their petition to the Privy Council 
 is interesting as an illustration of the Puritan spirit 
 of the time : — 
 
 " To the right honorable the. Lords and others of her 
 Majesties most honorable Privy Councell, — Humbly 
 shewing and beseeching your honors, the inhabitants of 
 the precinct of the Blackfryers, London, that whereas 
 one Burbage hath lately bought certaine roomes in the 
 same precinct neere adjoyning unto the dwelling houses 
 of the right honorable the Lord Chamberlaine and the 
 Lord of Hunsdon, which romes the said Burbage is now 
 altering and meaneth very shortly to convert and turne 
 the same into a comon playhouse, which will grow to 
 be a very great annoyance and trouble, not only to all 
 the noblemen and gentlemen thereabout inhabiting but 
 allso a generall inconvenience to all the inhabitants of 
 the same precinct, both by reason of the great resort 
 and gathering togeather of all manner of vagrant and 
 lewde persons that, under cullor of resorting to the 
 playes, will come thither and worke all manner of mis- 
 cheefe, and allso to the greate pestring and filling up of 
 the same precinct, yf it should please God to send any 
 visitation of sicknesse as heretofore hath been, for that 
 the same precinct is allready growne very populous ; 
 and besides, that the same playhouse is so neere the 
 Church that the noyse of the drummes and trumpetts 
 will greatly disturbe and hinder both the ministers and 
 parishioners in tyme of devine service and sermons; — 
 In tender consideracion wherof, as allso for that there 
 
Theatrical Aifairs, 1 595-1 605 309 
 
 hath not at any tyme heretofore been used any comon 
 playhouse within the same precinct, but that now all 
 players being banished by the Lord Mayor from playing 
 within the Cittie by reason of the great inconveniences 
 and ill rule that followeth them, they now thincke to 
 plant themselves in liberties ; — That therfore it would 
 please your honors to take order that the same roomes 
 may be converted to some other use, and that no play- 
 house may be used or kept there ; and your suppliants 
 as most bounden shall and will dayly pray for your 
 Lordships in all honor and happines long to live." 
 
 This petition was presented to the Privy Council 
 in November, 1596, but it did not prevent the open- 
 ing of the theatre as soon as the reconstruction of 
 the old mansion was completed. In 1597 we find it 
 occupied by the company of boy-actors, mostly from 
 the choristers of the Chapel Eoyal, and known as 
 the Children of the Chapel. Their success led to the 
 formation of other boy-companies; and these soon 
 became so popular that they seriously interfered 
 with the interests of the veteran actors. The latter 
 naturally became bitterly hostile to their juvenile 
 rivals, who were especially in favour with the 
 better portion of the public. In Jack Drum's Eiv- 
 tertainment, which was played by the Children of 
 Paul's, in 1601, we find direct reference to this : 
 
 '■'■Sir Edward. I sawe the Children of Powles last 
 night. 
 And troth they pleas'd me prettie, prettie well. 
 The Apes in time will do it handsomely. 
 
3IO Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Planet. V faith I like the Audience that frequenteth 
 there, 
 With much applause. A man shall not be choakte 
 With the stench of Garlicke, nor be pasted 
 To the balmy Jackett of a Beer-brewer. 
 
 Brabant, Jn. 'Tis a good gentle Audience, and I hope 
 the Boyes 
 Will come one day into the Courte of Requests. 
 
 Brabant, Sig. Ay, and they had good playes, but they 
 produce 
 Such mustie fopperies of antiquitie 
 As do not Bute the humorous ages backs 
 With cloathes in fashion." 
 
 It is to these boy-companies that Shakespeare alludes 
 in Samlet (ii. 2. 354'f ol.) as an " aery of children, 
 little eyases, that cry out on the top of question, 
 and are most tyrannically clapped for 't," etc. 
 
 The Puritan opposition to the theatres continued, 
 and in June, 1600, was sufficient to induce the 
 Privy Council to issue an order " for the restrainte 
 of the imoderate use and companye of Playe- 
 howses and Players." After referring to the com- 
 plaints that have been made of "the manyfolde 
 abuses and disorders" on account of the "many 
 houses erected and employed in and about the cittie 
 of London for common stage-playes," and particu- 
 larly of the protests against a new playhouse to be 
 built "by one Edward Allen, a servant of the right 
 honorable the Lord Admyrall," the order goes on 
 thus : — 
 
Theatrical Affairs, 1 595-1 605 311 
 
 "And yet, nevertheles, it is considered that the use 
 and exercise of such playes, not beinge evill in ytself, 
 may with a good order and moderacion be suffered in 
 a well-governed state, and that her Majestie, beinge 
 pleased at somtymes to take delight and recreation in 
 the sight and hearinge of them, some order is fitt to 
 be taken for the allowance and mayntenaunce of such 
 persons as are thought meetest in that kinde to yealde 
 her Majestie recreation and delighte, and consequently 
 of the houses that must serve for publicke playinge to 
 keepe them in exercise. To the ende, therefore, that 
 both the greate abuses of the playes and playinge-houses 
 may be redressed, and yet the af oresaide use and modera- 
 tion of them retayned, the Lordes and the reste of her 
 Majesties Privie Counsell, with one and full consent, 
 have ordered in manner and forme as f olloweth, — 
 
 "Firste, — that there shal be aboute the Cittie two 
 houses and no more allowed to serve for the use of 
 the common stage-playes, of the which houses one shal 
 be in Surrey in that place which is commonly called the 
 Banckeside or theraboutes, and the other in Middlesex. 
 And forasmuch as their Lordships have bin enformed 
 by Edmund Tylney, Esqr., her Majesties servante and 
 Master of the Revells, that the house nowe in hand to 
 be builte by the saide Edward Allen is not intended 
 to encrease the nomber of the playhouses, but to be 
 insteede of another, namely the Curtayne, which is ether 
 to be ruyned and plucked downe or to be put to some 
 other good use, as also that the scytuation thereof is 
 meete and convenient for that purpose, it is likewise 
 ordered that the saide house of Allen shal be allowed to 
 be one of the two houses and namely for the house to be 
 allowed in Middlesex for the company of players belong- 
 
312 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 ing to the Lord Admirall, so as the house called the 
 Ciirtaine be, as it is pretended, either ruynated or applyed 
 to some other good use. And for the other house 
 allowed to be on Surrey side, whereas their Lordships are 
 pleased to permitt to the company of players that shall 
 play there to make their owne choice which they will 
 have of divers houses that are there, choosing one of 
 them and no more, and the said company of plaiers, 
 being the servantes of the Lord Chamberlain, that are 
 to play there, have m.ade choise of the house called the 
 Globe, it is ordered that the saide house and none other 
 shal be there allowed ; and especially it is forbidden that 
 any stage-playes shal be played, as sometymes they have 
 bin, in any common inne for publique assembly in or 
 neare aboute the Cittie. 
 
 "Secondly, — forasmuch as these stage- plaies, by the 
 multitude of houses and company of players, have bin 
 so frequent, not servinge for recreation but invitinge 
 and callinge the people dayly from their trade and worke 
 to myspend their tyme, it is likewise ordered that the 
 two severall companies of players assigned unto the two 
 houses allowed may play each of them in their severall 
 house twice a weeke and no oftener, and especially they 
 shall refrayne to playe on the Sabbath-day upon paine 
 of imprysonment and further penaltie ; and that they 
 shall forbeare altogether in the tyme of Lent, and like- 
 wise at such tyme and tymes as any extraordinary sick- 
 nes or infection of disease shall appeare to be in or 
 about the cittie. 
 
 " Thirdly, — because these orders wil be of little force 
 and effecte unlesse they be duely putt in execution by 
 those unto whome it appertayneth to see them executed, 
 it is ordered that severall copies of these orders shal 
 
Theatrical Affairs, 1 595-1 605 313 
 
 be sent to the Lord Maior of London and to the Justices 
 of the Peace of the counties of Middlesex and Surrey, 
 and that lettres shal be written unto them from their 
 Lordships straightly charginge them to see to the execu- 
 cion of the same, as well by commyttinge to prison any 
 owners of playhouses and players as shall disobey and 
 resist these orders as by any other good and lawfull 
 meanes that in their discretion they shall finde expedient, 
 and to certifie their Lordshijps from tyme to tyme as they 
 shall see cause of their proceedinges heerein." 
 
 Alleyn's new theatre here referred to was the 
 Fortune in Cripplegate; but the order that this 
 and the Globe should be the only playhouses 
 allowed in the city and its suburbs was not enforced 
 by the authorities. This naturally led to further 
 complaints on the part of the Puritans ; and on the 
 31st of December, 1601, the Lords of the Council 
 addressed a letter to the Lord Mayor of London, 
 reproving him for the neglect to enforce the order, 
 and adding : " Wee do therefore once againe renew 
 hereby our direction unto yow, as wee have donne 
 by our lettres to the justices of Middlesex and 
 Surrey, concerninge the observation of our former 
 Order, which wee do praie and require yow to cause 
 duelie and dilligentlie to be put in execution for 
 all poyntes thereof, and especiallie for the expresse 
 and streight prohibition of any more playhowses 
 then those two that are mentioned and allowed in 
 the said Order." 
 
 The letter to the magistrates of Surrey and Mid- 
 
314 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 dlesex severely censured them for not doing their 
 duty in enforcing the order, and charged them to 
 amend their negligence without delay. "It is in 
 vaine," the letter says, " for us to take knowledg 
 of great abuses and disorders complayned of and to 
 give order for redresse, if our directions finde no 
 better execution and observation then it seemeth 
 they do, and wee must needes impute the fault and 
 blame thereof to yow or some of yow, the Justices 
 of the Peace, that are put in trust to see them exe- 
 cuted and perf ourmed ; whereof wee may give yow 
 a plaine instance in the great abuse contynued or 
 rather encreased in the multitude of plaie-howses 
 and stage-plaies in and about the cittie of London. 
 . . . Wee did caref uUie sett downe and prescribe an 
 order to be observed concerninge the number of 
 play-howses and the use and exercise of stage- 
 plaies, with lymytaeion of tymes and places for the 
 same, . . . and yet we have neither understoode of 
 any redresse made by yow, nor receaved any certifi- 
 cate at all of your proceedinges therein, which de- 
 fault or omission wee do now pray and require you 
 forthwith to amende, and to cause our said former 
 order to be putt duely in execution ; and especiallie 
 to call before you the owners of all the other play- 
 howses, excepting the two howses in Middlesex and 
 Surrey aforementioned, and to take good and suffi- 
 cient bondes of them not to exercise, use or practise, 
 nor to suffer from henceforth to be exercised, used 
 or practized, any stage- playinge in their howses, 
 
 'I 
 
Theatrical Affairs, 1 595-1 605 315 
 
 and, if they shall refuse to enter into such bondes, 
 then to comitt them to prison untill they shall con- 
 forme themselves." 
 
 This remonstrance proved no more effective than 
 the order to which it referred, and no further action 
 appears to have been taken by the Privy Council 
 until after the accession of James. In April, 1604, 
 the Lords of the Council wrote a letter to the Lord 
 Mayor of London and the magistrates of Middlesex 
 and Surrey, in which, after alluding to the "good 
 service in their quallitie of playinge " done by " the 
 Kings Majesties Players," they say: "We thinke it 
 therf ore fitt, the time of Lent being now past, that 
 your Lordship doe permitt and suffer the three com- 
 panies of plaiers to the King, Queene and Prince, 
 publicklie to exercise ther plaies in ther severall 
 and usuall howses for that purpose and noe other ; 
 viz., the Globe scituate in Maiden Lane on the 
 Banckside in the countie of Surrey, the Fortune in 
 Goldinge Lane, and the Curtaine in HoUywelle in 
 the cowntie of Midlesex, without any lett or inter- 
 rupption in respect of any former Lettres of Prohi- 
 bition heertofore written by us to your Lordship, 
 except ther shall happen weeklie to die of the plague 
 above the number of thirtie within the Cittie of 
 London and the Liberties therof, att which time 
 wee thinke itt fitt they shall cease and f orbeare any 
 further publicklie to playe untill the sicknes be again 
 decreaced to the saide number ; and so we bid your 
 Lordship hartilie farewell." 
 
3i6 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 " The War of tlie Theatres," as it has been called, 
 deserves some notice in connection with the dramatic 
 history of the closing years of the sixteenth century. 
 The " war " was due to the quarrels of Marston and 
 Dekker with Ben Jonson, and the record of it is 
 mainly to be found in their plays written between 
 1598 and 1602. Other dramatists, including Shake- 
 speare, have been supposed to be involved in it, but 
 there is no satisfactory evidence that they were. 
 
 Marston' s Satires have generally been regarded 
 as the first cause of the quarrel; but the critics do 
 not agree as to the passages in which Jonson is 
 supposed to be satirized. Some believe that Tor- 
 quatus in the Scourge of Villanie (1598) was meant 
 for Jonson ; but this view is not supported by what 
 Jonson himself says concerning the beginning of 
 the quarrel. In the Apologetical Dialogue appended 
 to The Poetaster, first printed in 1616, and stated to 
 have been " only once spoken on the stage," Jonson 
 says : — 
 
 " But sure I am, three years 
 They did provoke me with their petulant styles 
 On every stage ; and I at last, unwilling, 
 But weary, I confess, of so much trouble, 
 Thought I would try if shame could win upon 'em." 
 
 In the Conversations with Drummond, we read : " He 
 [Jonson] had many quarrels with Marston, beat him, 
 and took his pistol from him, wrote his Poetaster on 
 him ; the beginning of them were that Marston rep- 
 
Theatrical Affairs, 1 595-1 605 317 
 
 resented him on the stage, in his youth given to 
 venerie." 
 
 If, as these passages botli assert, the quarrel arose 
 from some stage representation, it could not have 
 been the Scourge of Villanie, which was a satire in 
 verse; and the internal evidence in the poem that 
 Jonson is ridiculed is by no means decisive. 
 
 Whether Marston began the quarrel or not, it is 
 clear that Jonson attacked him in Every Man Out 
 of His Humour (acted in 1599), where certain pecul- 
 iar words used by Marston in the Scourge of Villanie 
 and HistrioTnastix are ridiculed, and the latter play 
 is mentioned by name. Marston appears to have had 
 a hand in Histrioviastix, if he was not the sole author 
 of it. The character of Chrisoganus in the play is 
 quite certainly intended for Jonson ; and Carlo 
 Buffone in Every Man Out of His Humour is meant 
 by Jonson for Marston. 
 
 Several plays by Dekker have been thought by 
 critics to be connected with the quarrel between 
 Jonson and Marston, and concerning Satiromastix 
 (1601) at least there can be no doubt, as it is 
 avowedly a reply to Ben's satirical comedies, espe- 
 cially to The Poetaster, in which Dekker is intro- 
 duced as Demetrius, who is to write a play ridiculing 
 Horace (Jonson). 
 
 Cynthia's Revels (1601) was written by Jonson to 
 satirize the four men (probably Marston, Daniel, 
 Lodge, and Munday) who had been ridiculed in 
 Every Man Out of His Hunioxir. The Poetaster, 
 
3i8 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 however, is his only avowed reply to the attacks 
 raade upon him. It was first performed in 1601 by 
 the Children of the Chapel, with whom Jonson had 
 formed an alliance, and who had also rendered Cyn- 
 thia's Revels. 
 
 The scene of The Poetaster is laid in Rome, in 
 the time of Augustus, and Jonson appears as 
 Horace. The "poetaster" is Crispinus (Marston) 
 who has associated Demetrius (Dekker) with him 
 " to abuse Horace and bring him in in a play." The 
 most famous scene (v. 1) is that in which Horace 
 administers an emetic pill to Crispinus, who, with 
 Demetrius, has been condemned for attacking Hor- 
 ace. The scene is an adaptation of the Lexiphanes 
 of Lucian, which Jonson often follows in both inci- 
 dents and language. The pill compels Crispinus to 
 disgorge the peculiar words that marked his style, 
 and many of them have been identified in Marston's 
 works. Demetrius is recommended for mercy by 
 Horace; the "oath for good behaviour" is admin- 
 istered to both him and Crispinus, who swear that 
 they will never again " malign, traduce, or detract 
 the person or writings of Quintus Horatius Flaccus, 
 or any other eminent man." 
 
 In this play Jonson, who had learned that Mars- 
 ton and Dekker were conspiring to attack him in 
 Satiromastix, anticipated and answered the charges 
 they intended to bring against him. So far as he 
 was concerned, The Poetaster e/j?ded the "War of 
 the Theatres," and peace soon followed. Marston 
 
Theatrical Affairs, 1 595-1 605 319 
 
 and Jonson are both, contributors to Chester's 'Loves 
 Martyr in 1601 ; and in 1604 they both collaborated 
 with Chapman in writing Eastward Ho, in which 
 allusions to the Scots offended King James and his 
 friends, and sent all three dramatists to jail. In 
 the same year (1604) Marston dedicated his Mal- 
 content to " Benj amino Jonsonio, poetse elegantis- 
 simo, gravissimo, amico suo, candido et cordato." 
 
 Some writers have assumed that the " war " was 
 injurious to the interests of both dramatists and 
 actors ; but Jonson, in more than one passage, inti- 
 mates that the plays to which it gave rise were 
 profitable to the authors 5 and, if so, they must have 
 been profitable to the actors as well. Jonson, in the 
 Apologetical Dialogue, says : — 
 
 " Now for the players, it is true I taxed them, 
 
 And yet but some ; and those so sparingly 
 
 As all the rest might have sat still unquestioned, 
 
 Had they but had the wit or conscience 
 
 To think well of themselves. But, impotent, they 
 
 Thought each man's vice belonged to their whole tribe ; 
 
 And much good do 't them ! What they have done 'gainst 
 
 me, 
 I am not moved with : if it gave them meat. 
 Or got them clothes, 'tis well ; that was their end. 
 Only amongst them, I am sorry for 
 Some better natures, by the rest so drawn 
 To run in that vile line." 
 
 The plays helped to get the authors meat and 
 clothes, and this was their end in writing them. 
 
320 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Histrio says that the reason for hiring Demetrius 
 to bring in Horace and his gallants in a play is 
 " that it will get us a huge deal of money . . . and 
 we have need on 't." " Of course," as Professor J. 
 H. Penniman remarks, in his War of the Theatres 
 (1897), "any profit to be derived from satirical 
 plays could be gained by Jonson as well as by his 
 opponents. Although he was several times involved 
 in legal difiiculties on account of his plays, and 
 although the Elizabethan laws concerning libel and 
 slander were severe, and the people of the time 
 were litigious, yet we have no record of any legal 
 action instituted by the playwrights against Jonson, 
 or by Jonson against the playwrights. There was 
 undoubtedly much bitterness of feeling on both 
 sides, but, much as they hated each other, they 
 sought no legal redress, for the almost libellous 
 plays were a source of profit, and legal proceedings 
 might have killed the goose that laid the golden 
 eggs." 
 
 In the plays already mentioned as connected 
 with the " War of the Theatres " there is no evi- 
 dence worthy of serious consideration to show that 
 Shakespeare was involved in the wordy conflict. It 
 is improbable, indeed, that he would have been sup- 
 posed to be one of the combatants except for a 
 perplexing allusion to him in The Return from 
 Parnassus, a play " publiquely acted by the students 
 in St. Johns CoUedge, in Cambridge," as the title- 
 page of the edition of 1606 informs us. This 
 
Theatrical Affairs, 1 595-1 605 321 
 
 performance at Cambridge was at Christmastide, 
 lGOl-2, and not improbably on the 1st of January, 
 1602. 
 
 The play must have been written after The Poet- 
 aster, to which there is a direct allusion. In iv. 3, 
 Kempe says to Burbage: "Few of the university 
 pen plaies well, they smell too much of that writer 
 Ovid, and that writer Metamorjyhosis, and talke too 
 much of Proserpma and Juppiter. Why heres our 
 fellow Shakespeare puts them all downe, I [ay] and 
 Ben Jonson too. that Ben Jonson is a pestilent 
 fellow, he brought up Horace giving the Poets a 
 pill, but our fellow Shakespeare hath given him 
 a purge that made him beray his credit." 
 
 At first thought it is natural to suppose that the 
 ^' purge " given by Shakespeare to Ben Jonson is a 
 play ; and the only play of Shakespeare's that can 
 possibly be considered as meant is Troilus and Cres- 
 sida, the date of which is put by some critics as 
 early as 1601. 
 
 A play upon Shakespeare's name has been fan- 
 cied to occur in Histriomastix in the following 
 passage : — 
 
 « Thy knight his valiant elbow wears, 
 That when he shakes his furious speare 
 The foe in shivering fearful sort 
 May lay him down in death to snort." 
 
 In Shakespeare's Troiius and Cressida the line (i. 3. 
 73), "When rank Thersites opes his mastic jaws," 
 
322 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 has been supposed t6 contain in the word mastic an 
 allusion to Histriomastix, and Thersites has been 
 suspected to represent Marston, while Ajax is Ben 
 Jonson. Fleay declares that "hardly a word is 
 spoken of or by Ajax in ii. 3 and iii. 3 which does 
 not apply literally to Jonson ; and in ii. 1 he beats 
 Thersites of the ' mastic jaws ' as Jonson ' beat 
 Marston'" (^Conversations with Drummond). More- 
 over, "Thersites in all respects resembles Marston, 
 the railing satirist ; " and the " purge " is from 
 Troilus and Cressida, ii. 3. 223: "He will be the 
 physician that should be the patient." In another 
 passage Eleay says that "the setting up of Ajax as 
 a rival to Achilles shadows forth the putting for- 
 ward of Dekker by the King's men to write against 
 Jonson his Satiromastix ; " and in yet another pas- 
 sage he says that Dekker is Thersites in Troilus and 
 Cressida. It will be seen that Fleay is not consist- 
 ent with himself, as indeed he has often failed to 
 be in discussing other dramatic questions. In 
 the first passage, Ajax is Jonson, and Thersites is 
 Marston; in the second, Ajax is Dekker and Achil- 
 les is Jonson ; in the third, Thersites is Dekker, 
 Gifford maintained that the " purge " was merely 
 Shakespeare's great superiority to other play- 
 wrights; and Sidney Lee takes it to refer to the 
 fact that " Shakespeare had signally outstripped 
 Jonson in popular esteem ; " adding that, " as the 
 author of Julius Ccesar, he had just proved his 
 command of topics that were peculiarly suited to 
 
Theatrical Affairs, 1 595-1605 2'^ 3 
 
 Jonson's vein, and had in fact outrun his churlish 
 comrade on nis own ground." Professor Penniman 
 thinks that the " purge " must be " something more 
 definite " than Gifford suggests, and was " presu- 
 mably a play ; " and Dr. Brinsley Nicholson supposes 
 it to be some play of Shakespeare's that has not 
 come down to us. Dr. Cartwright, in his Shake- 
 speare and Ben Jonson, Dramatic versus Wit Com- 
 bats, connects Shakespeare's Much Ado, As You Like 
 It, Timon of Athens, and Othello with the quarrel. 
 " Who can doubt that lago is malignant Ben ? " 
 Pleay recognises Marston as Malvolio in Twelfth 
 Night, and Maria's "M, 0. A. I." in the forged 
 letter as "Jo. Ma. (John Marston)." "With the 
 locking up of Crispinus in some dark place, com- 
 pare the imprisonment of Malvolio." Verily, as 
 Dowden says of certain wild theories concerning the 
 Sonnets, " these be the pranks of Puck among the 
 critics ! " 
 
 The simplest solution of the problem is, on the 
 whole, the most satisfactory ; and Sidney Lee is, to 
 my thinking, substantially right, though it does not 
 seem necessary to suspect a specific allusion to Julius 
 Ccesar. The author of The Return from Parnassus 
 makes simply a metaphorical reference to Ben Jon- 
 son's purgative pill, which was a disagreeable dose 
 for his patients. Shakespeare gave Ben an equally 
 unpalatable dose by outdoing him as a playwright 
 and thus physicking his abounding self-conceit ; and 
 this treatment was wholly independent of Ben's 
 
324 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 quarrel with his fellow dramatists, in which the 
 " gentle Shakespeare " had no part whatsoever. 
 
 Shakespeare's company acted before Elizabeth at 
 Kichmond Palace on Twelfth Night and Shrove 
 Sunday, 1600, and at Whitehall on the 26th of 
 December. On March the 6th they were at Somer- 
 set House, and there performed, before Lord Huns- 
 don and some foreign ambassadors, another drama 
 on the subject of Oldcastle. The Queen kept her 
 Court at Whitehall in the Christmas of 1601-1602, 
 and during the holidays four plays were exhibited 
 before her by Shakespeare's company. They also 
 acted at Richmond on Candlemas Day, February 
 2d, 1603, and this was the last occasion on which 
 they could have appeared before Elizabeth, as she 
 died on the 24th of March, 1603. 
 
 James arrived in London on May the 17th, 1603, 
 and ten days afterwards he granted, by bill of Privy 
 Signet, a license to Shakespeare and the other mem- 
 bers of his company to perform in London and in 
 the provinces. The royal license reads thus : — 
 
 " James, by the grace of God King of England, Scot- 
 land, Fraunce, and Irland, Defendor of the Faith, etc. to all 
 justices, maiors, sheriffes, constables, headboroughes, and 
 other our officers and loving subjects greeting. Know ye, 
 that we of our speciall grace, certaine knowledge, and 
 meere motion, have licenced and authorized, and by 
 these presentes doe licence and authorize, these our ser- 
 vants, Lawrence Fletcher, William Shakespeare, Richard 
 
Theatrical Affairs, 1595-1605 32,5 
 
 Burbage, Augustine Phillippes, John Hemmings, Henrie 
 Condell, William Sly, Robert Armyn, Richard Cowlye, 
 and the rest of their associats, freely to use and exercise 
 the arte and faculty of playing comedies, tragedies, his- 
 tories, enterludes, moralls, pastorals, stage-plaies, and such 
 other like, as thei have already studied, or hereafter shall 
 use or studie, as well for the recreation of our loving sub- 
 jects, as for our solace and pleasure, when we shall thinks 
 good to see them, during our pleasure ; and the said com- 
 edies, trajedies, histories, enterludes, moralls, pastoralls, 
 stage-plaies, and such like, to shew and exercise publiquely 
 to their best commoditie, when the infection of the plague 
 shall decrease, as well within theire now usuall howse 
 called the Globe, within our county of Surrey, as also 
 within anie towne halls, or mout halls, or other conve- 
 nient places within the liberties and freedome of any 
 other citie, universitie, towne, or borough whatsoever 
 within our said realmes and dominions : willing and 
 commaunding you, and every of you, as you tender our 
 pleasure, not only to permit and suffer them heerin, 
 without any your letts, hinderances, or molestations, 
 during our said pleasure, but also to be ayding or assist- 
 ing to them yf any wrong be to them offered; and to 
 allowe them such former courtesies, as hathe bene given 
 to men of their place and qualitie ; and also what further 
 favour you shall shew to these our servants for our sake, 
 we shall take kindly" at your hands. And these our let- 
 ters shall be your sufficient warrant and discharge in this 
 behaKe. Given under our signet at our mannor of Greene- 
 wiche, the seavententh day of May in the first yeere of 
 our raigne of England, Fraunce, and Irland, and of Scot- 
 land the six and thirtieth." 
 
326 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 The King was staying in December, 1603, at 
 Wilton, the seat of one of Shakespeare's patrons, 
 William Herbert, third earl of Pembroke, and on 
 the second of that month the company had the 
 honour of performing before the distinguished party 
 then assembled in that noble mansion. In the fol- 
 lowing Christmas holidays, 1603-1604, they were 
 acting on several occasions at Hampton Court, the 
 play selected for representation on the first evening 
 of the new year being mentioned by one of the 
 audience under the name of Robin Goodfellow, pos- 
 sibly a familiar title of the Midsummer-Night^ s 
 Dream. Their services were again invoked by roy- 
 alty at Candlemas and on Shrove Sunday, — on the 
 former occasion at Hampton Court before the Floren- 
 tine ambassador, and on the latter at Whitehall. At 
 this time they were prohibited from acting in or 
 near London because of the plague ; and the King 
 on that account made the company a present of 
 thirty pounds. 
 
 On the loth of March, 1604, James undertook his 
 formal march from the Tower to Westminster, amid 
 emphatic demonstrations of welcome, passing every 
 now and then under the most elaborate triumphal 
 arches London had ever seen. In the royal train 
 were the nine actors to whom the special license 
 had been granted the previous year, including of 
 course Shakespeare and his three friends, Burbage, 
 Hemmings, and Condell. Each of them was pre- 
 sented with four yards and a half of scarlet cloth, 
 
Theatrical Affairs, 1 595-1 605 327 
 
 the usual dress-allowance to players belonging to 
 the household. The poet and his colleagues, now 
 termed the King's Servants, took rank at Court 
 among the Grooms of the Chamber. 
 
 On the evening of Hallowmas Day, November 1st, 
 1604, "The Moor of Venice" {Othello) was played 
 before the Court at Whitehall. Eichard Burbage 
 took the part of Othello. The Elegy on Burbage 
 refers to him as unrivalled in the character of " the 
 grieved Moor." In the Christmas holidays of 1604, 
 Measure for Measure was played at Whitehall. 
 
CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 THE SONNETS 
 
 Of all the perplexing problems concerning Shake- 
 speare and his works none have been the subject of 
 more speculation and controversy than the history 
 and the interpretation of the Sonnets. 
 
 What we really know about the Sonnets can be 
 stated in a few sentences. The earliest known 
 reference to them is in the often-quoted list of the 
 poet's plays and poems in the Palladis Tamia 
 of Erancis Meres, who calls them "his sugred 
 Sonnets among his private friends" (see page 232 
 above). This was in 1598, and in the next year 
 two of them (138 and 144) were printed in The 
 Passionate Pilgrim. 
 
 In 1609 the entire collection was published, by 
 Thomas Thorpe, with the following title-page : — 
 
 " Shake-speaees Sonnets. ISTeuer before Im- 
 printed. AT LONDON. By G. Eld for T. T. and 
 to be solde by William Aspley. 1609." 
 
 In some copies the latter part of the imprint 
 reads: "to be solde by lohn Wright, dwelling at 
 Christ Church gate. 1609." 
 
 The dedication of the volume is as follows : — 
 
The Sonnets 329 
 
 TO . THE . ONLIE . BEGETTER . OF . 
 
 THESE . INSVING . SONNETS . 
 
 Mr. W. H. ALL . HAPPINESSE . 
 
 AND . THAT . ETERNITIE . 
 
 PROMISED. 
 
 BY. 
 
 OVR . EVER-LIVING . POET . 
 
 WISHETH. 
 
 THE. WELL-WISHING. 
 
 ADVENTVRER.IN. 
 
 SETTING. 
 
 FORTH . 
 
 T. T. 
 
 At the end of the volume A Lover's Complaint 
 was printed. 
 
 In 1640 the Sonnets (except Nos. 18, 19, 43, 56, 
 75, 76, 96, and 126), re-arranged under various 
 titles, were reprinted, with the pieces in The 
 Passionate Pilgrim, A Lover's Complaint, The 
 Phoenix and Turtle, and other poems (see page 221 
 above), some of which are known to be Shake- 
 speare's, while others are falsely ascribed to him. 
 
33 o Life of Shakespeare 
 
 There is an introductory address " To the Eeader " 
 by the publisher, in which he asserts that the poems 
 are " of the same purity the Authour himself e then 
 living avouched," and that they will be found 
 " seren, cleere and eligantly plaine." He adds that 
 by bringing them " to the perfect view of all men " 
 he is "glad to be serviceable for the continuance of 
 glory to the deserved Author." 
 
 The order of the poems in this volume is followed 
 in the editions of Gildon (1710) and of Sewell 
 (1725 and 1728); also in those published by Ewing 
 (1771) and Evans (1775). In all these editions the 
 sonnets mentioned above (18, 19, etc.) are omitted, 
 and 138 and 144 are given in the form in which 
 they appear in The Passionate Pilgrim. 
 
 The first complete reprint of the Sonnets, after 
 the edition of 1609, appears to have been in the 
 collected edition of Shakespeare's Poems, published 
 by Lintott in 1709. 
 
 So much for facts about which there is no dis- 
 pute; and now for a few of the most important 
 questions concerning the Sonnets over which editors, 
 commentators, and critics have wrangled, and over 
 some of which they will doubtless continue to 
 wrangle to the last syllable of recorded time. 
 
 Was the edition of 1609 authorized or supervised 
 by Shakespeare ? Some editors have answered the 
 question in the negative, but the reasons given for 
 the decision are far from conclusive. The fact that 
 the dedication is the publisher's, not the author's. 
 
The Sonnets 331 
 
 has, for instance, been cited; but there are those 
 who tell us that the poet, for certain reasons, chose 
 to hide behind Master Thorpe. Dowden, who 
 summarizes the entire literature of the subject 
 in the introduction to his larger edition of the 
 Sonnets, says " there is reason to believe " that 
 the edition of 1609 had "neither the superintend- 
 ence nor the consent of the author ; " but the only- 
 reason he gives for this opinion — and presumably 
 the best he could offer — is that the book, " though 
 not carelessly printed, is far less accurate than the 
 Venus and Adonis" That poem and the Lucrece 
 are the only works of Shakespeare that he himself 
 appears to have seen through the press. Both are 
 carefully printed for that day, and the Lucrece 
 at least, as the variations in copies of the first 
 edition clearly prove, was corrected by the author 
 while on the press. Both, moreover, contain formal 
 dedications signed with his name. 
 
 The 1609 edition of the Sonnets, on the other 
 hand, abounds in errors of the type, most of which 
 Shakespeare could not have failed to detect if he 
 had supervised the printing. He was pretty cer- 
 tainly in London in 1609, and if he allowed these 
 "sugred sonnets" to be printed at all, he would 
 surely have seen that they were printed well. 
 
 The question, however, is definitely settled (as I 
 was the first to point out) by one little peculiarity 
 in the printing of the 126th Sonnet, if sonnet it 
 may be called. It has only twelve lines, and Thorpe 
 
22'^ Life of Shakespeare 
 
 (or his editor), assuming that a couplet had been 
 lost, completed the normal fourteen lines by two 
 blank ones enclosed in marks of parenthesis; 
 thus : — 
 
 ( ) 
 
 ( ) 
 
 Shakespeare could not have done this, and Thorpe 
 
 would not have done it if he had been in communi- 
 cation with Shakespeare, In that case he would 
 have asked the poet for the couplet he supposed to 
 be missing, and would have been told that nothing 
 was missing. The piece is not an imperfect sonnet 
 of Shakespeare's pattern, but is made up of six 
 rhymed couplets, and the sense is apparently com- 
 plete. 
 
 There is another fact that may have a bearing 
 upon this question. The final couplet of the 96th 
 Sonnet is the same as that of the 36th. The lines 
 do not fit the latter poem so well as they do the 
 earlier one. Possibly, as Dowden suggests, the 
 manuscript of the 96th may have been imperfect, 
 and Thorpe, or his editor, filled it out as well as he 
 could with a couplet from another Sonnet. Of 
 course he would not have done this if the book 
 had been printed with the author's knowledge or 
 consent. 
 
 If Shakespeare had nothing to do, directly or 
 indirectly, with the publication of the Sonnets, the 
 fact has some important bearings, as we shall see 
 further on. 
 
The Sonnets 233 
 
 Are the Sonnets, wholly or in part, autobio- 
 graphical, or are they merely " poetical exercises " 
 dealing with imaginary persons and experiences? 
 This is the question to which all others relating to 
 the poems are secondary and subordinate. 
 
 For myself, I firmly believe that the great 
 majority of the Sonnets, to quote what Wordsworth 
 says of them, " express Shakespeare's own feelings 
 in his own person ; " or, as he says in his sonnet 
 on the sonnet, "with this same key Shakespeare 
 unlocked his heart." Browning, quoting this, asks : 
 "Did Shakespeare? If so, the less Shakespeare 
 he ! " to which Swinburne replies, " No whit the 
 less like Shakespeare, but undoubtedly the less like 
 Browning." 
 
 The theory that the Sonnets are mere exercises 
 of fancy, "the free outcome of a poetic imagina- 
 tion," as Delius phrases it, is easy and specious at 
 first, but lands us at last among worse perplexities 
 than it evades. That Shakespeare, for example, 
 should write seventeen sonnets urging a young man 
 to marry and perpetuate his family is strange 
 enough, but that he should select such a theme 
 as the fictitious basis for seventeen sonnets is 
 stranger yet; and the same may be said of the 
 story or stories underlying other of the poems. 
 Some critics, indeed, who take them to be thus 
 artificially inspired, have been compelled to regard 
 them as " satirical " — intended to ridicule the 
 sonneteers of the period, especially Drayton and 
 
334 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 John Davies of Hereford. Others, like Professor 
 Minto, who believe the first 126 to be personal, 
 regard the rest as "exercises of skill, undertaken 
 in a spirit of wanton defiance and derision of 
 commonplace." The poems, to quote Dowden, " are 
 in the taste of the time ; less extravagant and less 
 full of conceits than many other Elizabethan collec- 
 tions, more distinguished by exquisite imagination 
 and all that betokens genuine feeling ; they are, as 
 far as manner goes, such sonnets as Daniel might 
 have chosen to write if he had had the imagination 
 and the heart of Shakespeare. All that is quaint 
 or contorted or 'conceited' in them can be paral- 
 leled from passages of early plays of Shakespeare, 
 such as Romeo and Juliet, and the Tivo Gentlemen of 
 Verona, where assuredly no satirical intention is 
 discoverable." 
 
 If the Sonnets were mostly written before 1598 
 when Meres refers to them, or 1599 when Jaggard 
 printed two of them, or in 1593 and 1594, as Sidney 
 Lee assumes, and if most of them, as the same 
 critic believes, were "little more than professional 
 trials of skill, often of superlative merit, to which 
 the poet deemed himself challenged by the efforts 
 of contemporary practitioners," it is passing strange 
 that Shakespeare should not have published them 
 ten or fifteen years before they were brought out 
 by the pirate Thorpe. He must have written them 
 for publication if that was their character, and the 
 extraordinary popularity of his earlier poems would 
 
The Sonnets 23 S 
 
 have ensured them a favourable reception with the 
 public. His fellow-townsman and friend, Eichard 
 Field, who had published the Venus and Adonis 
 in 1593 and the Lucrece in 1594, and who must 
 have known of the circulation of the sonnets in 
 manuscript, would have urged him to publish them ; 
 or, if the author had declined to let them be 
 printed, some pirate, like Jaggard or Thorpe, would 
 have done it long before 1609. Mr. Lee tells us 
 that Sidney, Watson, Daniel, and Constable circu- 
 lated their sonnets for some time in manuscript, 
 but he tells us also that the pirates generally got 
 hold of them and published them within a few 
 years if the authors did not do it. But the history 
 of The Passionate Pilgrim shows that it was not so 
 easy to obtain copies of Shakespeare's sonnets for 
 publication. It was the success of Venus and Adonis 
 and Lucrece (the fourth edition of the former being 
 issued in 1599 and the second of the latter in 1598) 
 which prompted Jaggard to compile The Passionate 
 Pilgrim in 1599 ; and it is a significant fact that he 
 was able to rake together only ten poems which can 
 possibly be Shakespeare's, and three of these were 
 from Lovers Labour's Lost, which had been pub- 
 lished in 1598. To these ten pieces he added ten 
 others (eleven, as ordinarily printed) which he 
 impudently called Shakespeare's, though we know 
 that most of them were stolen and can trace some 
 of them to their authors. His book bears evidence 
 in its very make-up that he was hard pushed to fill 
 
22^ Life of Shakespeare 
 
 the pages and give the purchaser a tolerable six- 
 pence-worth. The matter is printed on but one 
 side of the leaf, and is further spun out by putting 
 a head-piece and tail-piece on every page, so that a 
 dozen lines of text sandwiched between these con- 
 venient pictorial devices may make as fair a show 
 as double the quantity would ordinarily present. 
 
 Note, however, that, with all his pickings and 
 stealings, Jaggard managed to secure but two of the 
 sonnets, though more than a hundred of them were 
 probably in existence among the author's " private 
 friends," as Meres expressed it a year before. The 
 pirate Newman, in 1591, was able to print one 
 hundred and eight sonnets by Sidney which had 
 been circulated in manuscript, and to add to them 
 twenty-eight by Daniel without the author's knowl- 
 edge ; and other similar instances are mentioned by 
 Mr. Lee. How, then, are we to explain the fact 
 that Jaggard could obtain only two of Shakespeare's 
 sonnets, five years or more after they had been 
 circulating among his friends? Is it not evident 
 that the poems must have been carefully guarded 
 by these friends on account of their personal and 
 private character ? A dozen more of those sonnets 
 would have filled out Jaggard's "larcenous bundle 
 of verse," and have obviated the necessity of pilfer- 
 ing from Barnfield, Griffin, Marlowe, and the rest; 
 but at the time they were in such close confidential 
 keeping that he could get no copies of them. In 
 the course of years they were shown to a larger and 
 
The Sonnets 337 
 
 larger number of "private friends," and with the 
 multiplication of copies the chances of their getting 
 outside of that confidential circle were proportion- 
 ally increased. We need not be surprised, then, 
 that a decade later somebody had succeeded in 
 obtaining copies of them all, and sold the collection 
 to Thorpe. 
 
 Even if we suppose that the sonnets had been 
 impersonal, and that Shakespeare for some reason 
 that we cannot guess had wished to withhold them 
 from the press, we may be sure that he could not 
 have done it in that day of imperfect copyright 
 restrictions. Nothing could have kept a hundred 
 and fifty poems by so popular an author out of 
 print if there had not been strong personal reasons 
 for maintaining their privacy. At least seven edi- 
 tions of the Venus and Adonis and four of the 
 Lucrece appeared before Thorpe was able to secure 
 " copy " for his edition of the Sonnets. 
 
 If, as Mr. Lee asserts, Southampton was the 
 " patron " to whom twenty of the sonnets which 
 may be called "dedicatory" sonnets (23, 26, 32, 
 37, 38, 69, 77-86, 100, 101, 103, and 106) are ad- 
 dressed, it is' all the more remarkable that Shake- 
 speare should not have published them, or, if he 
 hesitated to do it, that his noble patron should not 
 have urged it. He had already dedicated both the 
 Venus and Adonis and the Lucrece to Southampton ; 
 and Mr. Lee says that " three of the twenty dedi- 
 catory sonnets [26, 32, 38] merely translate into the 
 
22^ Life of Shakespeare 
 
 language of poetry the expressions of devotion which 
 had already done duty in the dedicatory epistle in 
 verse that precedes Lucrece." Other sonnet-sequences 
 of the time (including the four mentioned by Mr. 
 Lee as pirated while circulated in manuscript, ex- 
 cept Sidney's, which were not thus published until 
 after his death) were brought out by their authors, 
 with dedications to noble lords or ladies. Shake- 
 speare's sonnets, so far as I am aware, are the only 
 exception to the rule. 
 
 Mr. Lee himself admits that " at a first glance a 
 far larger proportion of Shakespeare's sonnets give 
 the reader the illusion of personal confessions 
 than those of any contemporary ; " and elsewhere 
 he recognizes in them more "intensity" than ap- 
 pears in the earlier poems except in " occasional 
 utterances " of Lucrece ; but, for all that, he would 
 have us believe that they are not personal, and that 
 their "superior and more evenly sustained energy 
 is to be attributed, not to the accession of power 
 that comes with increase of years, but to the innate 
 principles of the poetic form, and to metrical exi- 
 gencies which impelled the sonneteer to aim at a 
 uniform condensation of thought and language." I 
 cannot help agreeing with those who regard their 
 personal character as no " illusion," and who believe 
 that they clearly show the increase of power which 
 comes with years, their true date probably being 
 1597-98 rather than 1593-94. 
 
 For myself, I could as soon believe the peniten- 
 
The Sonnets 339 
 
 tial psalms of David to be purely rhetorical and 
 fictitious as the 129th sonnet, than which no more 
 remorseful utterance was ever wrung from a soul 
 that had tasted the ashes to which the Sodom- 
 apples of illicit love are turned in the end. Have 
 we there nothing but the " admirable fooling " of 
 the actor masquerading in the garb of the penitent, 
 or the satirist mimicking the conceits and affectar 
 tions of the sonneteers of the time? If this is 
 supposed to be the counterfeit of feeling, I can 
 only exclaim with Leonato in Much Ado, " God ! 
 counterfeit ! There was never counterfeit of passion 
 came so near the life of passion ! " 
 
 To whom is the Dedication addressed, and what 
 does it mean ? 
 
 If Shakespeare had nothing to do with Thorpe's 
 venture, the dedication is Thorpe's own, as it pur- 
 ports to be. But in what' sense was "Mr. W. H.," 
 whoever he may have been, " the onlie begetter " of 
 the Sonnets? "Begetter" may mean either the 
 person to whom the poems owed their birth and to 
 whom they were originally addressed, or the one 
 who collected and arranged them for Thorpe. The 
 majority of critics take the word in the former and 
 more familiar sense, while the minority cite ex- 
 amples of the other meaning from writers of the 
 time, and argue plausibly for its adoption here. 
 Both explanations have their difficulties, but the 
 first seems on the whole the more probable. The 
 choice between them does not of necessity affect 
 
340 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 the opinions we may form concerning the origin, 
 the order, or the significance of the Sonnets. Who 
 " Mr. W. H." was critics will probably never agree 
 in deciding; but if he was not the editor of the 
 book of 1609, it had an editor about whom we 
 know with certainty neither more nor less than 
 we know about "Mr. W. H." 
 
 The vital question concerning the unknown editor 
 is whether he was in the confidence of either the 
 writer of the sonnets or the person or persons to or 
 for whom they were written. If he was not, his 
 arrangement of the poems is not an authoritative 
 one; and that he was not is evident from the fact 
 that he did not, and presumably could not, ask either 
 the author or the addressee of the 126th Sonnet for 
 that supposed lost couplet. Neither author nor ad- 
 dressee could have been privy to the publication of 
 the poems, and neither would have assisted the 
 piratical editor or publisher in arranging them for 
 the press. 
 
 Dr. Furnivall, in a private note, says he has no 
 doubt that the insertion of the marks of parenthesis 
 " was the printer's doings ; " and Mr. Thomas Tyler, 
 in his edition of the Sonnets (London, 1890), expresses 
 the same opinion; but it is extremely improbable 
 that the printer would resort to this extraordinary 
 typographical expedient (absolutely unprecedented, 
 so far as my observation goes) without consulting 
 the publisher, and Thorpe would not have consented 
 to it if he could have avoided it. It is clear that 
 
The Sonnets 341 
 
 printer or publisher, or both, considered that some- 
 thing was evidently wanting which could not be 
 supplied and must be accounted for. 
 
 Dr. Furnivall also says that our " editor " is " an 
 imaginary being." He is in no wise essential to 
 the theory. If anybody chooses to regard Thorpe 
 as his own editor, be it so. Whether he arranged 
 the poems as we find them in his edition or some- 
 body else arranged them for him does not matter. 
 Whichever it may have been, he simply did the 
 work as well as he could from what he knew of 
 the history of the poems or could learn from a study 
 of them. He seems to have discovered enough about 
 their origin and their meaning to enable him to get 
 them nearly in their proper order; but it is not 
 improbable that, if Shakespeare had read the proof- 
 sheets, he might have made some transpositions. 
 
 The editor, as we will call him, though not in the 
 confidence of the persons directly concerned, had 
 evidently become deeply interested in the poems, 
 and spent much time and labour in making a col- 
 lection of them. In the course of the ten years or 
 more previous to 1609, he had gathered in the 154, 
 which he sorted and arranged for publication. Those 
 urging a friend to marry were easily picked out; 
 and this group of seventeen, as the largest — or, 
 perhaps, as that in which the connection would be 
 most obvious to the average reader — he placed first. 
 As to the arrangement of the other groups he had 
 made, he doubtless had his own theory, based, we 
 
34^ Life of Shakespeare 
 
 may suppose, on facts better known or more acces- 
 sible then than now ; but he had not all the infor- 
 mation he needed for doing the work with absolute 
 accuracy. After arranging the first 126, or all that 
 he regarded as addressed to "Mr. W. H." or the 
 poet's male friend, he appended those written to 
 the "dark lady," as he supposed — apparently with- 
 out any attempt at regular order, except in a few 
 small groups readily made up — and, having added 
 the two Cupid sonnets, handed the whole collection 
 to Thorpe for printing. 
 
 It is hardly possible that certain of the sonnets in 
 the second group (127-152) were really addressed 
 to the "dark lady" — 129, for instance, though it 
 may have been suggested by his relations with her ; 
 and 146, which seems to be entirely independent of 
 that entanglement. 
 
 It is also very doubtful whether certain sonnets 
 in the first group (1-126) properly belong there. 
 Some of them appear to have been addressed to a 
 woman rather than a man — for instance, 97, 98, 99, 
 etc. Of course everybody familiar with the literature 
 of that time knows, as Dyce remarks, that " it was 
 then not uncommon for one man to write verses to 
 another in a strain of such tender affection as fully 
 warrants us in terming them amatory." Many of 
 Shakespeare's sonnets which he addressed to his 
 young friend are of this character, and were it not 
 for internal evidence to the contrary might be sup- 
 posed to be addressed to a woman. But Sonnets 97, 
 
The Sonnets 343 
 
 98, and 99 could hardly have been written to a male 
 friend even in that day. Look at 99, for example : — 
 
 «' The forward violet thus did I chide : 
 
 Sweet thief, whence didst thou steal thy sweet that 
 
 smells, 
 If not from my love's breath ? The purple pride 
 Which on thy soft cheek for complexion dwells 
 In my love's veins thou hast too grossly dyed. 
 The lily I condemned for thy hand, 
 And buds of marjoram had stolen thy hair ; 
 The roses fearfully on thorns did stand. 
 One blushing shame, another white despair ; 
 A third, nor red nor white, had stolen of both, 
 And to his robbery had annex'd thy breath ; 
 But, for his theft, in pride of all his growth 
 A vengeful canker eat him up to death. 
 More flowers I noted, yet I none could see 
 But sweet or colom- it had stolen from thee." 
 
 If this sonnet were met with where we had no ex- 
 ternal evidence that it was addressed to a man, could 
 we have a moment's hesitation in deciding that it 
 must be addressed to a woman ? Even in Eliza- 
 bethan times when extravagant eulogies of manly 
 beauty were so common, do we find the poet dwell- 
 ing upon his "love's breath" or the "lily" white- 
 ness of his hand ? From first to last, the sweetness 
 and loveliness described in the verses are unmistak- 
 ably feminine. There are other sonnets in this 
 group which may or may not belong in it ; there is 
 no internal evidence to settle the question. Our 
 
344 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 editor gave them the benefit of the doubt, and put 
 them in ; but he had no better authority for doing 
 so than any of his successors. 
 
 Moreover, certain sonnets in the first group appear 
 to be out of place, though many of the editors 
 attempt to prove that the order of the series is 
 Shakespeare's own. But if the 70th Sonnet is ad- 
 dressed to the same person as 33-35 (to say nothing 
 of 40-42) it seems to be clearly out of place. Here 
 the poet says : — 
 
 " That thou art blamed shall not be thy defect, 
 For slander's mark was ever yet the fair ; 
 The ornament of beauty is suspect, 
 A crow that flies in heaven's sweetest air. 
 So thou be good, slander doth but approve 
 Thy worth the greater, being woo'd of time ; 
 For canker vice the sweetest buds doth love. 
 And thou present'st a pure unstained prime. 
 Thou hast pass'd by the ambush of youug days. 
 Either not assail'd or victor being charged ; 
 Yet this thy praise cannot be so thy praise. 
 To tie up envy evermore enlarged." 
 
 His friend has been charged with yielding to the 
 seductions of vice, but the accusations are declared 
 to be false and slanderous. He is said to present 
 "a pure unstained prime," having passed through 
 the temptations of youth either " not assailed " by 
 them or " victor being charged ; " but in 33-35 we 
 learn that he has been assailed and has not come 
 
The Sonnets 345 
 
 off victorious. There the "stain" and "disgrace" 
 of his " sensual fault " are clearly set forth, though 
 they are excused and forgiven. Here the young 
 man is the victim of slander, but has in no wise 
 deserved it. If he is the same young man who is 
 so plainly, though sadly and tenderly, reproved in 
 33-35, this sonnet must have been- written before 
 those. One broken link spoils the chain ; if the 
 order of the poems is wrong here, it may be so else- 
 where. 
 
 Mr. Tyler's attempt to show that this sonnet is 
 not out of place is a good illustration of the " tricks 
 of desperation " to which a critic may be driven in 
 defence of his theory : " Slander ever fastens on the 
 purest characters. His friend's prime was unstained, 
 such an affair as that with the poet's mistress not be- 
 ing regarded, apparently, as involving serious moral 
 blemish. Moreover, there had been forgiveness ; and 
 the special reference here may be to some charge 
 of which Mr. W. H. was innocent." Whatever this 
 charge may be, the " pure unstained prime " covers 
 the period referred to in Sonnets 33-35 and 40-42 ; 
 and the young man's conduct then appeared a " tres- 
 pass " and a " sin," a " shame " and a " disgrace," to 
 the friend who now, according to Mr. Tyler, sees no 
 " serious moral blemish " in it. Let the reader com- 
 pare the poems for himself, and draw his own con- 
 clusions. Mr. Tyler has the grace to add to what 
 is quoted above: "But (as in 79) Shakespeare can 
 scarcely escape the charge of adulation." Eather 
 
346 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 than believe William Shakespeare guilty of " adula- 
 tion" so ineffably base and sycophantic, I could sup- 
 pose, as some do, that Bacon wrote the Sonnets. 
 
 Both Furnivall and Dowden, in their exposition 
 of the relation of each sonnet to the story involved 
 in the series, fail to explain this 70th Sonnet satis- 
 factorily. Furnivall's comment, in his analysis of 
 Sonnets 67-70, is this : " Will has mixed with bad 
 company, but Shakespeare is sure he is pure, and 
 excuses him." At this stage of the friendship, 
 then, Shakespeare is " sure " that the young man is 
 " pure ; " but in the analysis of Sonnets 33-35, we 
 read: "Will's sensual fault blamed, repented, and 
 forgiven ; " and this " fault," as the context ex- 
 plains, is taking away Shakespeare's mistress. 
 There can be no doubt as to the fact and the 
 nature of the sin mourned and condemned in the 
 earlier sonnets ; nor can there be any question that 
 the later sonnet congratulates the youth to whom 
 it is addressed, not on having repented after yield- 
 ing to temptation, but on having either escaped or 
 resisted all such temptations. If this youth and 
 the other youth are one and the same, the sonnets 
 cannot be in chronological order, 
 
 Dowden, in like manner, infers from the earlier 
 sonnets that "Will" has been "false to friend- 
 ship," and that the only excuse that Shakespeare 
 can offer for him is that " he is but a boy whom a 
 woman has beguiled ; " but in the 70th Sonnet the 
 poet says that the charges of loose living brought 
 
The Sonnets 347 
 
 ag&.inst his friend "must be slanders." Dowden 
 cannot mean that this sonnet is a friendly attempt 
 to apologize for Will's disgrace after the poet has 
 forgiven him. We have that in Sonnets 35, 36, 40, 
 41, and 42, where Elizabethan conceits are racked 
 to the uttermost to excuse both his friend and his 
 mistress for playing him false; but, in 70 his 
 friend is " pure," though he cannot escape slander, 
 *' unstained," though envy would fain besmirch 
 him. 
 
 Mr. GoUancz, in the "Temple" edition of the 
 Sonnets, after quoting what I say in my edition 
 (as here) to prove that 70 is out of place, simply 
 repeats Tyler's attempt to prove the contrary. 
 "Surely," he says, "the faults referred to in the 
 earlier sonnets are not only forgiven, but here [in 
 70] imputed to slander." This is an evasion of my 
 argument. That the sin was forgiven is obvious; 
 but the later sonnet says that the sin was never 
 committed, and it therefore needed no forgiveness. 
 How lightly such lapses were regarded in the olden 
 time we all know; but in this case the treason to 
 friendship was added, and the earlier sonnets show 
 that Shakespeare did not regard the double sin as 
 "involving no serious moral blemish." 
 
 The critics who believe the Sonnets to be autobio- 
 graphical generally agree in assuming that all of 
 them (or all but two) are either addressed to one 
 man and one woman, or connected with the poet's 
 relations with those two persons. Is it not prob- 
 
348 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 able, on the face of it, that a poet who " unlocked 
 his heart " to such an extent in this form of verse 
 would occasionally, if not often, have employed it 
 in expressing his feelings towards other friends or 
 with reference to other experiences ? Is it likely 
 that the two Cupid sonnets (153, 154) and the 
 Venus and Adonis sonnets in The Passionate Pil- 
 grim (if we believe those to be Shakespeare's — 
 which is extremely improbable) and the sonnets in 
 Love's Labou7'^s Lost are his only efforts in this 
 kind of composition outside of this great series? 
 Is it not far more probable that some sonnets in 
 this series really have no connection with the per- 
 sons and events supposed to be directly connected 
 with the series ? 
 
 If we assume that the Sonnets are autobiograph- 
 ical, and that all, or nearly all, are addressed to two 
 persons — a young man beloved of the poet, and 
 the "dark lady," with whom they were both en- 
 tangled — can these persons be identified ? The 
 majority of the critics who accept the personal 
 theory assume that the " Mr. W. H." of the dedica- 
 tion was this young man, rather than the collector 
 or editor of the poems. 
 
 The only theories concerning the young man 
 (whether " Mr. W. H." or not) that are worthy of 
 serious consideration are that he was William 
 Herbert, Earl of Pembroke, or that he was Henry 
 Wriothesley, Earl of Southampton. 
 
 As early as 1819 Mr. B. H. Bright suggested 
 
The Sonnets 349 
 
 that Herbert was the laan, and this theory has 
 steadily gained favour with biographers and critics. 
 The editor of the "Temple" edition, who accepts 
 the Southampton theory, writing a few years ago, 
 believed that the Herbert theory was "in the as- 
 cendant." He added : " Many a former ally of 
 Southampton has rallied round the banner unfurled 
 by Herbert's redoubtable champion, Mr. Thomas 
 Tyler." But more recently (in 1897) Sidney Lee, 
 who had been on the side of Herbert, has now (in 
 his article on Shakespeare in the Dictionary of 
 National Biography, and in his Life of Shake- 
 speare) gone over to the Southampton party; and 
 Mrs. Stopes and one or two other recent writers 
 have also joined that faction. 
 
 William Herbert was born April 8th, 1580 ; and 
 in the spring of 1598 he came to reside in London. 
 He was brilliant, accomplished, and licentious ; " the 
 most universally beloved and esteemed of any man 
 in London" (Clarendon). To him and his brother 
 Philip, Earl of Montgomery, as two patrons of the 
 dramatist, Hemings and Condell dedicated the folio 
 of 1623. The " Herbertists " assign the Sonnets to 
 the years 1597-1601. The most serious objection 
 to regarding him as "Mr. W. H." (or the person 
 addressed in the Sonnets) was the improbability 
 that the poet would write seventeen sonnets to 
 urge a youth of seventeen or eighteen to marry; 
 but Mr. Tyler discovered, from letters preserved in 
 the Eecord Office, that in 1597 the parents of Will- 
 
^^o Life of Shakespeare 
 
 iam Herbert were engaged in negotiations for his 
 marriage to Bridget Vere, daughter of the Earl of 
 Oxford. The course of the parental match-making 
 ran smooth for a while, but was soon checked by 
 obstacles not clearly explained in the correspond- 
 ence. Shakespeare may have written the seven- 
 teen sonnets at the request of Herbert's mother, 
 the Countess of Pembroke. 
 
 It is a curious fact that G-rant White, in his first 
 edition of Shakespeare (1865) had said of Sonnets 
 1-17 : " There seems to be no imaginable reason 
 for seventeen such poetical petitions. But that a 
 mother should be thus solicitous is not strange, or 
 that she should long to see the beautiful children 
 of her own beautiful offspring. The desire for 
 grandchildren, and the love of them, seem some- 
 times even stronger than parental yearning. But I 
 hazard this conjecture with little confidence." 
 
 Mr. Tyler also attempted to prove that the " dark 
 lady" was Mary Fitton, maid of honour to Queen 
 Elizabeth, and mistress of Herbert, by whom she 
 had a child in 1601. The Queen could not overlook 
 the offence, and sent the father to the Fleet Prison. 
 He was soon released, but appears never to have 
 regained the royal favour. 
 
 There is no direct evidence to connect Shake- 
 speare with Mistress Fitton; but we find that she 
 was on somewhat intimate terms with a member of 
 his theatrical company, that is, the Lord Chamber- 
 lain's Company, and was probably acquainted with 
 
The Sonnets 351 
 
 other members of it. In 1600 William Kemp, the 
 clown in the company, dedicated his Nine dales 
 wonder to " Mistris Anne Fitton, Mayde of Honour 
 to most sacred Mayde, Royal Queene Elizabeth." 
 As Elizabeth certainly had no maid of honour 
 named Anne Fitton in 1600, while Mary Fitton held 
 such office from 1595 to 1601, either Kemp or his 
 printer probably made a mistake in the lady's 
 Christian name in the dedication. As Mr. Tyler 
 suggests, the form " Marie " might be so written as 
 to be easily mistaken for "Anne." Mary had a 
 sister Anne, who was married to John Kewdigate 
 on the 30th of April, 1587, and who could not, 
 therefore, have been maid of honour in 1600. 
 
 A statue of Mary Fitton exists as a part of the 
 family monument in Gawsworth Church, Cheshire ; 
 and the remnants of colour upon it were thought 
 by Mr. Tyler (as by others who have seen it) to 
 indicate that she was of dark complexion, with 
 black hair and eyes, like the lady of the second 
 series of the Sonnets. But Lady Newdigate- 
 Newdegate (^Gossip from a Muniment Room, 1598) 
 states that two portraits of Mary represent her as 
 of fair complexion, with brown hair and gray 
 eyes. 
 
 It is a point in favour of the Herbert theory that 
 Sonnets 135, 136, and 143 indicate that the person 
 to whom the poems in the other series were ad- 
 dressed was called " Will ; " but Mr. Lee considers 
 that "Will" in these sonnets is only a play on 
 
^^2 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Shakespeare's own name and the lady's " will." It 
 is true that such quibbles on "Will" are found 
 elsewhere in his works, but it is doubtful whether 
 any one but a Southamptonite would see them in 
 these Sonnets, 
 
 Henry Wriothesley was born October 6th, 1573, 
 As we have seen, the Venus and Adonis and the Lu' 
 crece were both dedicated to him, and tradition says 
 that he was a generous patron of the poet (see page 
 296). In September, 1595, he fell in love with Eliz- 
 abeth Vernon, a cousin of the Earl of Essex. This 
 lost him the favour of the Queen, and involved him 
 in serious troubles. In 1598 he secretly married 
 Elizabeth Vernon. On account of his connection 
 "with the rebellion of Essex he was condemned to 
 death, but the sentence was commuted to imprison- 
 ment for life. He was pardoned in 1603 when 
 James came to the throne, and the 107th Sonnet is 
 supposed by Mr. Gerald Massey to be Shakespeare's 
 congratulation upon his release from prison and 
 restoration to royal favour. The initials in "Mr. 
 W^. H,," according to some of the Southamptonites, 
 are those of Henry Wriothesley transposed as a 
 ''blind." 
 
 When Southampton was seventeen (1590) he was 
 urged by Burghley to marry his grandaughter. Lady 
 Elizabeth Vere, a daughter of the Earl of Oxford, 
 but the youth declined the alliance. If the Sonnets 
 were addressed to him, the first seventeen could 
 hardly have been written at this time, but the 
 
The Sonnets ^^^ 
 
 efforts of his friends to find him a wife continued 
 for several years afterwards. 
 
 While Mr. Lee believes that such of the sonnets 
 as are personal in their character are addressed to 
 Southampton, he does not understand that noble- 
 man to be the " Mr. W. H." of the dedication. He 
 says: "No peer of the day bore a name that could 
 be represented by the initials ' Mr. W. H.'. . . The 
 Earl of Pembroke was, from his birth to the date 
 of his succession to the earldom in 1601, known by 
 the courtesy title of Lord Herbert, and by no other 
 name, and he could not have been designated at 
 any period of his life by the symbols ' Mr. W. H.' " 
 This may be admitted, but it does not prove that 
 the "Mr. W. H." of the dedication was not meant 
 to refer ambiguously to him. If Thorpe knew the 
 history of the Sonnets, and that both the author and 
 the person to whom they were addressed did not 
 wish to have them printed, he certainly would not 
 venture to inscribe the book in distinct terms to the 
 Earl of Pembroke ; but he might be inclined to give 
 an indirect hint to those who were acquainted with 
 the story underlying the poems that he also knew 
 of the Earl's connection with it. He could do this 
 with perfect safety by using the initials " W. H." 
 which, as Mr. Lee elsewhere remarks, were common 
 to many names, and which therefore could not be 
 proved to be meant to suggest " William Herbert." 
 
 But after all it matters little whether " W. H." 
 was meant for " William Herbert " or " Henry Wri- 
 
354 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 othesley," so far as either the Herbert or South- 
 arapton theory is concerned. In either case they 
 might refer to the "begetter" of the poems as the 
 collector or editor, though the other interpretation 
 of "begetter" seems to accord better with the rest 
 of the dedication. Mr. Lee thinks that Mr. W. H. 
 is "best identified with a stationer's assistant, Will- 
 iam Hall, who was professionally engaged, like 
 Thorpe, in procuring ' copy,' " and who, in 1606, 
 "won a conspicuous success in that direction, and 
 conducted his operations under cover of the famil- 
 iar initials." Thorpe "gave Hall's initials only 
 because he was an intimate associate who was 
 known by those initials to their common circle of 
 friends." But, though Thorpe was "bombastic" in 
 his dedications, and might wish to Hall "allhappi- 
 ness" and even "eternitie," it is unlikely that he 
 would wish him that "eternitie promised by our 
 ever-living poet." Promised to whom ? Mr. Lee 
 refers it to the eternity that Shakespeare in the son- 
 nets " conventionally foretold for his own verse ; " 
 but this interpretation is a desperate attempt to 
 force the expression into consistency with his 
 theory. The words plainly mean " promised in 
 the sonnets to the person to whom they are ad- 
 dressed." This promise is far more prominent in 
 the sonnets than that of their own immortality, 
 which, indeed, is made dependent on the enduring 
 fame of the youth who is their theme and inspirer. 
 If it were proved beyond a doubt that "Mr. W. 
 
The Sonnets 355 
 
 H." was William Hall or some other person who 
 secured the sonnets for Thorpe, I should none the 
 less believe that Herbert rather than Southampton 
 was their "patron" and subject. The only facts 
 worth mentioning in favour of Southampton are 
 that the earlier poems were dedicated to him, and 
 that certain personal allusions in the sonnets can 
 be made to refer to him if we suppose them to have 
 been written some four years before their more 
 probable date. But Mr. Lee himself admits that 
 these allusions are equally applicable to Herbert. 
 "Both," he says, "enjoyed wealth and rank, both 
 were regarded by admirers as cultivated, both were 
 self-indulgent in their relations with women, and 
 both in early manhood were indisposed to marry, 
 owing to habits of gallantry." It may be added 
 that both were noted for personal beauty, though 
 Mr. Lee thinks that Francis Davison's reference to 
 the beauty of Herbert in a sonnet addressed to him 
 in 1602 is " cautiously qualified " in the lines : — 
 
 " [His] outward shape, though it most lovely be, 
 Doth in fair robes a fairer soul attire." 
 
 Anybody who had not a theory to defend would see 
 that the eulogy of the "fairer soul" enhances in- 
 stead of " qualifying " the compliment to the " most 
 lovely " person. This is a good illustration of Mr. 
 Lee's perverse twisting of quotations for the pur- 
 poses of his argument. He even finds a reference 
 to Southampton's long hair (shown in his portrait) 
 
2^6 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 in the 68th Sonnet, where Shakespeare "points to 
 the youth's face as a map of what beauty was ' with- 
 out all ornament, itself and true,' before fashion 
 sanctioned the use of artificial ' golden tresses ' " 
 — though this is only one out of several illustrations 
 of the poet's antipathy to false hair. See Love's 
 Labour's Lost, iv. 3. 258; Merchant of Venice, iii. 2. 
 95 ; and Thnon of Athens, iv. 3. 144. 
 
 One of the most serious objections to the South- 
 ampton theory is the necessity which it involves of 
 fixing the date of the poems as early as 1592 or 
 1593. As we have seen (page 192), that period of 
 Shakespeare's career is so crowded with work, 
 dramatic and poetic, that it is quite impossible to 
 add anything more to it. 
 
 There are difficulties, it is true, according to some 
 of the critics, in fixing the date of the Sonnets as 
 required by the Herbert theory. The earliest of 
 them cannot be supposed to have been written be- 
 fore 1597, when Herbert's friends desired that he 
 should marry Bridget Vere; and it has been as- 
 sumed that the rest, or the great majority of them, 
 must have been written before Jaggard printed the 
 144th Sonnet in 1599, because, it is said, that sonnet 
 proves that the intrigue with the " dark lady " had 
 come to an end. But, though no critic appears to 
 have pointed it out, this is clearly a misinterpreta- 
 tion of that sonnet, which, instead of marking the 
 end of the story, really belongs to a comparatively 
 early stage of it. The sonnet, which it is well to 
 
The Sonnets 357 
 
 quote here in order to bring it directly before the 
 eye of the reader, is as follows : — 
 
 " Two loves I have of comfort and despair, 
 Which like two spirits do suggest me still ; 
 The better angel is a man right fair, 
 The worser spirit a woman colour'd ill. 
 To win me soon to hell, my female evil 
 Tempteth my better angel from my side, 
 And would corrupt my saint to be a devil, 
 Wooing his purity with her foul pride. 
 And whether that my angel be turn'd fiend 
 Suspect I may, yet not directly tell ; 
 But being both from me, both to each friend, 
 I guess one angel in another's hell : 
 
 Yet this shall I ne'er know, but live in doubt. 
 Till my bad angel fire my good one out." 
 
 This certainly refers to the period indicated in 
 Sonnets 33-35, at the latest. The poet says that 
 the woman "tempteth" (not, has succeeded in 
 seducing) his friend. She "would corrupt" him, 
 but whether she has actually done it, he adds, 
 " Suspect I may, yet not directly tell," and " I guess 
 one angel in another's hell ; " but he does not 
 " know " this, and will " live in doubt " until the 
 affair comes to an end. But in Sonnets 34 and 35 
 he had no doubt that the " woman coloured ill " had 
 corrupted his "better angel." He endeavours to 
 excuse the " sensual fault " of his friend ; but in 
 the next sonnet he decides that 
 
2^S Life of Shakespeare 
 
 " We two must be twain, 
 Although our undivided loves are one." 
 
 They cannot wholly cease to love each other, but 
 "a separable spite" ("a cruel fate that spitefully 
 separates us from each other," as Malone para- 
 phrases it) must put an end to their friendly in- 
 tercourse. In Sonnets 40-42 he recurs to the 
 "robbery" his friend has committed; and la- 
 ments, not only the loss of his mistress, but that 
 of his friend : — 
 
 " That thou hast her, it is not all my grief, 
 And yet it may be said I loved her dearly ; 
 That she hath thee, is of my wailing chief, 
 A loss in love that touches me more nearly." 
 
 Is it not evident that Sonnet 144, with its suspi- 
 cions and doubts and guesses, was written before 
 rather than after 33-35 and 40-42, where the same 
 facts are treated as facts well established, and 
 thoroughly recognized as such by all the parties 
 interested ? 
 
 It is not necessary, then, to assume that all or 
 most of the Sonnets were written before 1599, when 
 The Passionate Pilgrim was published. Perhaps not 
 more than half of the whole number were then in 
 existence ; and this may be one of the reasons why 
 Jaggard was unable to get more of them for his six- 
 penny booklet. It would be easier to keep thirty 
 out of his reach among the poet's ''private friends" 
 
The Sonnets 359 
 
 than a hundred and fifty; and Meres may not have 
 had even as many as thirty in mind when he re- 
 ferred to the "sugred sonnets," in 1598. The 
 others may have been scattered through several 
 years after 1599; and some of those which seem 
 independent of the regular series may have been 
 written only a few years before the whole collec- 
 tion was published in 1609. 
 
 Mr. Lee dates some of the sonnets much later 
 than 1593-94. He believes, for instance, with Mr. 
 Gerald Massey (page 352), that the 107th was writ- 
 ten in 1603, and refers to the death of Elizabeth 
 and the release of Southampton from prison on the 
 accession of James. "The mortal moon" of the 
 sonnet is Elizabeth, whose " recognized poetic appel- 
 lation " was Cynthia (the moon) ; and her death is 
 more than once described as an eclipse. But the 
 sonnet tells us that the moon "hath her eclipse 
 endured^^ and come out none the less bright — 
 which could hardly refer to death ; and the sup- 
 posed allusion to the imprisonment of the poet's 
 friend is extremely fanciful. 
 
 It may be added that Shakespeare's references to 
 himself in the Sonnets as "old" appear to have 
 a bearing on their date, and thus upon the question 
 whether Herbert or Southampton was the person 
 addressed. Thirty or more of them were written 
 before 1599, when the poet was thirty-five years 
 old, and the first seventeen appear to have been 
 written in 1597, when he was only thirty-three; 
 
360 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 but in the 22d, which seems to be one of the earlier 
 ones, he intimates that he is already old ; — 
 
 " My glass shall not persuade me I am old, 
 So long as youth and thou are of one date ; " 
 
 but in the preceding sonnets he has repeatedly 
 admonished his young friend that the summer of 
 youth is fast flying, and has urged this as a reason 
 why he should marry ; " for," he says in substance, 
 " you will soon be old, as I am." In the 73d we 
 have a most beautiful and pathetic description of 
 his own autumnal age : — 
 
 '< That time of year thou mayst in me behold 
 When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang 
 Upon those boughs which shake against the cold, 
 Bare ruin'd choirs, where late the sweet birds sang. 
 In me thou seest the twilight of such day 
 As after sunset f adeth in the west. 
 Which by and by black night doth take away. 
 Death's second self, that seals up all in rest. 
 In me thou seest the glowing of such fire 
 That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, 
 As the death-bed whereon it must expire. 
 Consumed with that which it was nourish'd by. 
 
 This thou per cei vest, which makes thy love more strong, 
 To love that well which thou must leave ere long." 
 
 In the 138th, which was published in 1599, he 
 refers to himself as " old" and his days as " past 
 the best." We are told that 'here, as in some of 
 the earlier sonnets, he is comparing himself, as a 
 
The Sonnets 361 
 
 mature and experienced man, with a green youth 
 of perhaps twenty. Thus in the 62d Sonnet, after 
 referring to his own face as he sees it in the glass, 
 " Bated and chopp'd with tann'd antiquity," he adds 
 that he comforts himself by " Painting my age with 
 beauty of thy days." But in the 73d there is no 
 contrast of his own age with that of his young 
 friend, but a long-drawn and apparently heartfelt 
 lament that his life has fallen into the sere and 
 yellow leaf. Mr. Lee says that this "occasional 
 reference to his growing age was a conventional 
 device — traceable to Petrarch — of all sonneteers 
 of the day, and admits of no literal interpretation." 
 If the Sonnets were of the ordinary conventional 
 Elizabethan type, poetical exercises on fictitious 
 themes, we might regard the "growing age" as 
 equally fictitious; but William Shakespeare, at 
 thirty-one or thirty-two (as Mr. Lee imagines him 
 to have been when he wrote these sonnets), or even 
 at thirty-five, was not the man to indulge in such 
 sentimental foolery — least of all through an entire 
 sonnet — when dealing with real experiences like 
 those that form the basis of these poems. 
 
 However that may be, a man of twenty-eight or 
 twenty-nine (as Shakespeare was in 1592 or 1593) 
 writing to one of nineteen or twenty (as Southamp- 
 ton was in those years) would be less likely to 
 assume that fictitiously exaggerated age than a 
 man of thirty-four or thirty-five writing to a youth 
 of eighteen or nineteen. 
 
362 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Among the minor questions relating to the Son- 
 nets which have been the subject of no little con- 
 troversy the only one that seems to claim notice 
 here is the identity of the " rival poet " of Sonnets 
 79-86. Spenser, Marlowe, Drayton, Nash, Daniel, 
 and others have been suggested by the critics, and 
 Mr. Lee adds Barnabe Barnes, " a poetic panegyrist 
 of Southampton and a prolific sonneteer, who was 
 deemed by contemporary critics certain to prove a 
 great poet." On the whole. Chapman, whom Pro- 
 fessor Minto was the first to suggest, and whom 
 Dowden, Furnivall, and many others have endorsed, 
 is most likely to have been the poet whom Shake- 
 speare had in mind. Mr. Lee, having dated the 
 Sonnets in 1592 and 1593, naturally objects that 
 Chapman had produced no conspicuously "great 
 verse" until 1598, and that we find no complimen- 
 tary sonnet addressed by him to Southampton until 
 1610; but he had published poetry before 1598, 
 and that date is early enough for the Herbert 
 theory, in which, of course, the failure to praise 
 Southampton does not count. The question, never- 
 theless, is one that cannot be definitely settled. 
 
 Besides the autobiographical theories concerning 
 the Sonnets many others, allegorical, mystical, and 
 fantastical, have been proposed, which it would take 
 too much space even to enumerate here; neither is 
 it possible to make more than a passing reference 
 to the notions that " Mr. W. H." was William Hart, 
 the poet's nephew (who was not born until a year 
 
The Sonnets ^6^ 
 
 after The Passionate Pilgrim was printed, and was 
 only nine years old in 1609), William Hughes (on 
 the strength of the capitalized and italicized Hues 
 in the 20th Sonnet), " William Himself " (a German 
 notion, revived by Mf. Parke Godwin, in 1901), or 
 Queen Elizabeth; or that the poems are addressed 
 to Ideal Manhood, or the Spirit of Beauty, or the 
 Reason, or the Divine Logos; or that the "dark 
 lady" is Dramatic Art, or the Catholic Church, or 
 the Bride of the Canticles, " black but cSmely." 
 
 To most of the Baconian heretics the Sonnets 
 have been a stumbling-block. Mr. W. D. O'Connor, 
 in his Hamlet's Note-Book, says that they cannot 
 be Bacon's ; " their autobiographic revelations are 
 incompatible with the history of Bacon's life." We 
 are then told that Walter Raleigh wrote the Son- 
 nets ; as one G. S. Caldwell had maintained nearly 
 ten years earlier (1877) in Australia. Raleigh was 
 lame, after being wounded in 1596, as the author of 
 Sonnets 38 and 89 represents himself, etc. On the 
 other hand. Judge Holmes has no doubt that the 
 Sonnets, like the plays, were written by Bacon. 
 " The similitudes of thought, style, and diction," he 
 says, "are such as to put at rest all question on 
 that head." In 1887, another learned judge, in 
 California, Hosmer by name, published a book on 
 the Sonnets, the theory of which is that the poems 
 were addressed by Bacon to Shakespeare ; and that 
 the former, making over the plays to the latter, 
 gives his directions concerning the concealment of 
 
364 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 their true authorship. The Sonnets sontain imper- 
 sonations of Truth, Beauty, Thought, the Drama, 
 etc. These may serve as specimens of the manner 
 in which the Baconians deal with the poems. 
 
 It would be interesting, if space permitted, to 
 consider the Sonnets as poems — to note the " linked 
 sweetness long drawn out" of their verse, not un- 
 mixed with most sonorous music, and what Cole- 
 ridge has aptly called their "boundless fertility 
 and laboured condensation of thought ; " or to view 
 them, in the words of Purnivall, "as a piece of 
 music, or as Shakespeare's pathetic sonata, each 
 melody introduced, dropped again, brought in again 
 with variations, but one full strain of undying love 
 and friendship running through the whole ; " but I 
 can only close with a summing up of what I have 
 attempted to prove : — 
 
 I. That the Sonnets were not edited by Shake- 
 speare, but by some anonymous collector, who did 
 not, and obviously could not, ask the poet or the 
 persons to whom they were addressed for aid in 
 settling a textual question. 
 
 II. That the arrangement of the Sonnets in the 
 edition of 1609 was therefore not authoritative, but 
 simply the best conjectural one that the collector 
 could make, from a study of the poems and what 
 he knew of their history; and there is, moreover, 
 internal evidence that the order is not strictly 
 chronological. 
 
 III. That the great majority of the Sonnets are 
 
The Sonnets ^^S 
 
 probably personal, or autobiographical, and were 
 not intended for publication ; but it is not probable 
 that the first 126 (or such of these as are personal) 
 are all addressed to one man, and the rest to one 
 woman, with whom Shakespeare and that man were 
 entangled. 
 
 IV. That "Mr. W. H." was probably the person 
 to whom the Sonnets are addressed, rather than the 
 one who collected and edited them ; and that, if so, 
 he was probably William Herbert, Earl of Pem- 
 broke ; but the " dark lady," to whom most of the 
 second series (127-152) were addressed, cannot be 
 positively identified. 
 
 V. That while the majority of the Sonnets were 
 probably written between 1598 and 1601, some of 
 them, particularly those which are not connected 
 with the main story, may be of later date. 
 
CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 THE TRANSITION FROM COMEDY TO TRAGEDY 
 
 After the plays that have been already con- 
 sidered, we come to a group of comedies, so called, 
 which are in marked contrast to those of the pre- 
 ceding period. They are comedies only in name, or 
 because they do not have a tragical ending. They 
 are AlVs Well That Ends Well, Measure for 
 Measure, and Troilus and Cressida — " one earnest, 
 another dark and severe, the last bitter and iron- 
 ical" (Dowden). 
 
 All 's Well That Ends Well was first printed in 
 the folio of 1623, in the division of Comedies. 
 There can be little doubt that the play is a revision 
 of the " Love Labours Wonne," included in Meres's 
 often-quoted list of 1598. This was first suggested 
 by Farmer in his Essay on the Learning of Shake- 
 speare (1766), and his opinion has been endorsed 
 by the great majority of more recent editors and 
 critics. Hunter believed that Love's Labour's Won 
 was The Tempest ; Mr. A. E. Brae argues for Much 
 Ado ; and Craik and Hertzberg for The Taming of 
 the Shrew. Fleay objects to regarding All's Well 
 
 366 
 
Transition from Comedy to Tragedy 367 
 
 as the play, on the ground that "the present title 
 is alluded to in several places in the play itself 
 which are clearly part of the early work ; " but 
 this, if true, does not settle the question. The play 
 may have had a double title originally — Love's 
 Labour's Won, or All 's Well, etc., — like Twelfth 
 Night, and probably Henry VIII. ; or the present 
 title may be a later one, suggested by the occurrence 
 of the proverb in the play. 
 
 If Farmer and the rest are right, AlVs Well was 
 originally a companion play to Love's Labour's Lost, 
 and written about the same time, or not far from 
 1592. Knight, Ulrici, and some other critics put 
 the date earlier than 1590. The marks of early 
 work are seen in the frequent rhymed passages 
 (some of them in alternate rhymes), the sonnet 
 letter in iii. 4. 4-17, the lyrical, non-dramatic form 
 of certain portions, and some peculiar grammatical 
 constructions. Most of these earlier passages — 
 " boulders from the old strata imbedded in the later 
 deposits," as Fleay calls them — will be easily 
 recognized by the reader. There are critics, how- 
 ever, who doubt whether any portion of the play is 
 of early origin. 
 
 The date of the revision of the play was probably 
 not earlier than 1601, and may have been a year or 
 two later, some critics making it 1604, 1605, or 
 1606. 
 
 The text presents many difficulties, on account 
 of the peculiarities of the style and the corruptions 
 
368 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 of the folio. Verplanck remarks: "The language 
 approaches in many places to the style of Measure 
 for Measure, as if much of it had been written in 
 that season of gloom which imparted to the poet's 
 style something of the darkness that hung over his 
 soul. In addition to these inherent difficulties, 
 there are several indications of an imperfect revi- 
 sion, as if words and lines intended to be rejected 
 had been left in the manuscript, together with 
 those written on the margin or interlined, for the 
 purpose of being substituted for them. We have 
 not the means afforded in several other plays where 
 similar misprints have been found of correcting 
 them by the collation of the old editions, as there 
 is no other than that in the folio, which is less 
 carefully printed than usual, not being even divided 
 into scenes. Erom all these concurring causes 
 there are many passages of obscure or doubtful 
 meaning, some of which would perhaps remain so, 
 even if we had them as the author left them ; while 
 others are probably darkened by typographical 
 errors. Some of these difficulties have been per- 
 fectly cleared up, by the ingenuity or antiquarian 
 industry of the later commentators; as to others, 
 we must be content with explanations and con- 
 jectural corrections, which are only probable until 
 something more satisfactory can be presented." 
 
 The story of Helena and Bertram was taken by 
 Shakespeare from Paynter's Palace of Pleasure, 
 1566, Paynter having translated it from Boccaccio's 
 
Transition from Comedy to Tragedy 1,^3 
 
 Decameron, which, was "the great storehouse of 
 romantic and humorous narrative for the poets and 
 dramatists of that and the succeeding age." The 
 characters of the Countess, Lafeu, Parolles, and 
 the Clown are the poet's own. 
 
 "In All's Well That Ends Well a subject of ex- 
 treme difficulty, when regarded on the ethical side, 
 was treated by Shakespeare with a full conscious- 
 ness of its difficulty. A woman who seeks her 
 husband, and gains him against his will ; who after- 
 wards by a fraud — a fraud however pious — de- 
 feats his intention of estranging her, and becomes 
 the mother of his child ; such a personage it would 
 seem a sufficiently difficult task to render attractive 
 or admirable. Yet Helena has been named by 
 Coleridge 'the loveliest of Shakspere's characters.' 
 Possibly Coleridge recognized in Helena the single 
 quality which, if brought to bear upon himself by 
 one to whom he yielded love and worship, would- 
 have given definiteness and energy to his somewhat 
 vague and incoherent life. For sake of this one 
 thing Shakspere was interested in the story, and so 
 admirable did it seem to him that he could not 
 choose but endeavour to make beautiful and noble 
 the entire character and action of Helena, This 
 one thing is the energy, the leap-up, the direct 
 advance of the will of Helena, her prompt, uner- 
 roneous tendency towards the right and efficient 
 deed. ... A motto for the play may be found in 
 the words uttered with pious astonishment by the 
 
§jo Life of Shakespeare 
 
 clown, when his mistress bids him to begone, 
 'That man should be at woman's command, and 
 yet no hurt done.' Helena is the providence of 
 the play; and there is 'no hurt done,' but rather 
 healing — healing of the body of the French king, 
 healing of the spirit of the man she loves" 
 (Dowden). 
 
 Measure for Measure was first printed in the folio 
 of 1623. No direct allusion to it in Shakespeare's 
 time has been found, and we have nothing to fix 
 the date of its composition but the style and versifi- 
 cation, with some minor points of internal evidence. 
 The critics, however, have generally agreed that 
 the play was written in 1603 or early in 1604. 
 
 The story, like that of Othello, was originally 
 from the Hecatommithi of Griraldi Cinthio, pub- 
 lished in Venice in 1566. Whetstone's tragedy of 
 Promos and Cassandra (1578) was founded on 
 Cinthio's novel, and was probably known to Shake- 
 speare, though he owed little to either the English 
 play or the Italian tale. Whetstone "followed 
 Cinthio very closely, in making the sister (the 
 'woful Cassandra' of his play, the Epitia of 
 Cinthio, and the Isabella of Shakespeare) yield 
 to the governor's desires and her brother's pusil- 
 lanimous sophistry — a degradation which Shake- 
 speare has avoided by the introduction of Mariana, 
 and the very venial artifice of Isabella, which 
 Coleridge censures, but which is certainly, if a 
 blemish at all, a very light one compared with the 
 
Transition from Comedy to Tragedy 371 
 
 intrinsic repulsiveness of making tlie heroine the 
 wife of the guilty governor, and the supplicant 
 for his life. The inferior characters of Whetstone 
 are the same only in their habits and occupations 
 — the painting of their character is Shakespeare's 
 own as much as that of the nobler personages, and 
 the high moral wisdom which overflows in their 
 dialogue. Isabella, as a character, is entirely his 
 own creation." 
 
 Whetstone, some years after writing his. play, 
 translated the original story in his Heptameron of 
 Civil Discourses (1582). He also prefixed the sub- 
 stance of it to his play as an " argument." 
 
 Critics have objected to Shakespeare's plot as an 
 improbable fiction, but it strangely happens that 
 something much like it has occurred several times 
 in different ages and countries. One of these is the 
 story of Colonel Kirke, in the reign of James II., 
 related by Pepys and Macaulay. Another occurred 
 in Holland, in the time of Charles the Bold, a cen- 
 tury before Shakespeare's birth. Another, which 
 may have been the foundation of Cinthio's novel, is 
 said to have taken place under one of the old Dukes 
 of Ferrara. 
 
 The Angelo of the Netherlands, whose history is 
 recorded by several of the old Dutch and Flemish 
 chroniclers, was a brave and renowned knight, who 
 was governor of Flushing; and it was the wife of 
 a state criminal, confined on a charge of sedition, 
 who is tempted to yield up her honour on condition 
 
^yi Life of Shakespeare 
 
 of receiving from the governor an order to tlie 
 gaoler to deliver her husband up to her. In the 
 meanwhile, a prior order had been sent; the hus- 
 band was secretly beheaded ; and the wife received, 
 on presenting her order, a chest containing the 
 bloody corpse. Upon the duke's visiting his prin- 
 cipality of Zealand, she appealed to him for justice. 
 The governor confessed his guilt, and threw himself 
 with confidence upon the duke's mercy, relying on 
 his former services and favour. The duke com- 
 manded him to marry the widow, and endow her 
 formally with all his wealth. She at first shrunk 
 with horror from the alliance, but at last consented 
 to the ceremony, on the prayers of her family, who 
 thought their honour involved in it. When this 
 was done, the governor returned to the duke, and 
 informed him that the injured person was now sat- 
 isfied. " So am not I," replied the duke. He sent 
 the guilty man to the same prison where his victim 
 had died. A confessor was sent with him; and 
 after the last rites of religion, without further 
 delay, the governor was beheaded. His new wife 
 and her friends had hurried to the prison, and 
 arrived there only to receive the bloody trunk in 
 the same manner that she had received the remains 
 of her first husband. Overcome with horror, she 
 fainted, and never recovered. 
 
 Measure for Measure, as Verplanck remarks, 
 "bears the stamp of that period of the author's 
 life, first noted by Hallam, when some sad influence 
 
Transition from Comedy to Tragedy ^y^ 
 
 weighed upon the poet's spirit, and prompted him 
 constantly to appear as ' the stern censurer of man.' 
 I see no reason to doubt that this did not arise 
 merely from a change of taste, or an experiment in 
 dramatic art, but was, in some manner, connected 
 with events or circumstances personal to the author, 
 and affecting his temper, disposition, and moral 
 associations of thought. . . . Although we often 
 find in his later works a calm and serene spirit of 
 enjoyment, as in the pastoral beauties of Perdita's 
 conversation, and the mountain scenes of Cymheline 
 — though his comic sketches in his later dramas 
 prove that his perception of whimsical or absurd 
 character was as acute and active as ever, and his 
 power of graphic delineation as vivid — yet even 
 then there seems to be an absence of that per- 
 sonal abandonment of the author's own spirit to 
 the beauty or the humour of the scene to which he 
 had before accustomed us. He appears more as 
 the great philosophical artist, depicting the very 
 truth and nature of his scenes, and not, as was his 
 former wont, as himself one of his own joyous 
 throng, mixing in the plot against the bachelor 
 liberty of Benedick — enjoying the frolics in East- 
 cheap as much as Falstaff or the Prince — or join- 
 ing his own voice in the boisterous glee of Sir Toby 
 and Sir Andrew. . . . But Measure for Measure 
 breathes a sterner spirit than belongs to the pro- 
 ductions of either the earlier or the later periods. 
 Dr. Johnson has said that its 'comic scenes are 
 
374 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 natural and pleasing.' Their fidelity to nature can- 
 not, indeed, be denied. But if tliey please, they do 
 so from their faithfulness of portraiture ; not, like 
 the scenes of Bottom or Falstaff, and their compan- 
 ions, from their exuberance of mirthful sport, or 
 their rich originality of invention and wit. They, 
 as well as the loftier scenes of the piece, are but 
 too faithful pictures of the degrading and harden- 
 ing influence of licentious passion, from the lighter 
 profligacy of Lucio, the dissipated gentleman, to the 
 grosser and contented degradation of the Clown; 
 and if these are all painted with the truth of 
 Hogarth or Crabbe, they are depicted with no air 
 of sport or mirth, but rather with that of bitter 
 scorn. The author seems to smile like his own 
 Cassius, ' as if he mocked himself.' " 
 
 Furnivall concisely and aptly describes Isabella 
 .as " ' a thing enskied and sainted, an immortal 
 spirit,' Shakspere's first wholly Christian woman, 
 steadfast and true as Portia, Brutus's wife, pure as 
 Lucrece's soul, merciful above Portia, Bassanio's 
 bride, in that she prays for forgiveness for her foe, 
 not her friend ; with an unyielding will, a martyr's 
 spirit above Helena's of All 's Well, the highest type 
 of woman that Shakspere has yet drawn." 
 
 Troilus and Cressida was first published, so far as 
 we know, in 1609, when two quarto editions were 
 printed from the same type, but with somewhat 
 different title-pages. Both state that the play is 
 "by William Shakespeare," and one refers to its 
 
Transition from Comedy to Tragedy 375 
 
 having been "acted by the Kings Maiesties ser- 
 vants at the Globe." 
 
 One of these editions differs from the other in 
 having the following preface : — 
 
 " A neuer writer to an euer reader. 
 "Newes. 
 
 " Eternall reader, you haue lieere a new play, neuer 
 stal'd with the Stage, neuer clapper-clawd with the 
 pahnes of the vulger, and yet passing full of the palme 
 comicall ; for it is a birth of your braine, that neuer 
 under -tooke any thing commicall vainely : and were but 
 the vaine names of commedies changde for the titles of 
 commodities, or of playes for pleas, you should see all 
 those grand censors, that now stile them such vanities, 
 flock to them for the maine grace of their grauities ; espe- 
 cially this authors commedies, that are so fram'd to the 
 life, that they serue for the most common commentaries 
 of all the actions of our liues, showing such a dexteritie, 
 and power of witte, that the most displeased with playes 
 are pleasd with his commedies. And all such dull and 
 heauy-witted worldlings, as were neuer capable of the 
 witte of a commedie, comming by report of them to his 
 representations, haue found that witte there that they 
 neuer found in themselues, and haue parted better- 
 wittied then they came ; feeling an edge of witte set 
 vpon them, more than euer they dreamd they had braine 
 to grinde it on. So much and such sauord salt of witte 
 is in his commedies, that they seeme (for their height of 
 pleasure) to be borne in that sea that brought forth 
 Venus. Amongst all there is none more witty then this ; 
 and had I time I would comment vpon it, though I know 
 
376 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 it needs not (for so much as will make you thinke joxir 
 testern well bestowd), but for so much worth, as euen 
 poore I know to be stuft in it. It deserues such a labour, 
 as well as the best commedy in Terence or Plautus : and 
 beleeue this, that when hee is gone, and his commedies 
 out of sale, you will scramble for them, and set vp a new 
 English inquisition. Take this for a warning, and at 
 the perill of your pleasures, losse, and iudgments, refuse 
 not, nor like this the lesse for not being sullied, with the 
 smoaky breath of the multitude ; but thanke fortune for 
 the scape it hath made amongst you. Since by the 
 grand possessors wills, I belieue, you should haue jDrayd 
 for them, rather than beene prayd. And so I leaue all 
 such to bee prayd for (for the states of their wits healths) 
 that will not praise it. — Vale." 
 
 The play was not reprinted until it appeared in 
 the folio of 1623, where it stands between the 
 " Histories " and " Tragedies ; " and it is not men- 
 tioned at all in the " Catalogne," or table of con- 
 tents, at the beginning of the volume. The editors 
 seem to have been puzzled to classify it. The 
 "Tragedies" at first began with Coriolanus, fol- 
 lowed by Titits Andronicus and Romeo and Juliet. 
 Troilus and Cressida was evidently intended to 
 come next, and was put in type and paged for that 
 place ; but it was afterwards transferred to its pres- 
 ent position, and Timon of Athens used instead. 
 The numbers of the pages were cancelled, with the 
 exception of the second and third, which were acci- 
 dentally left with the 79 and 80 of the original 
 
Transition from Comedy to Tragedy 377 
 
 pagination. The only reason that can be imagined 
 for this change is that the editors were in doubt 
 whether the play was a " tragedy " or a " history," 
 and therefore decided to put it between the two, 
 and to evade the responsibility of cataloguing it in 
 the table of contents. The writer of the prologue, 
 whoever he may have been, treats it as a comedy. 
 
 The date of the play cannot be determined with 
 any certainty. In 1599 Dekker and Chettle were 
 preparing a play on the same subject, and an entry 
 in the Stationers' Eegisters, dated February 7, 
 1602-3, proves that a Troilus and Cressida had 
 been acted by Shakespeare's company, the Lord 
 Chamberlain's Servants. This may possibly have 
 been an early draught of Shakespeare's play. In- 
 ternal evidence is partly in favour of a date as 
 early as this, and partly of one some five or six 
 years later. Some critics have therefore decided 
 that the play was written as early as 1602 or 1603, 
 while others put it as late as 1608 or 1609. More 
 likely, as Verplanck, White, and others believe, it 
 was first written as early as 1602, and revised and 
 enlarged somewhere between 1606 and 1609. 
 
 If Shakespeare did not draw his materials from 
 some earlier play, he probably took "the love- 
 story" from Chaucer's Troilus and Cresseide, and 
 " the camp story " from the Recuyell of the history es 
 of Troye, translated and drawen out of frenshe into 
 englishe by W. Caxton, 1471 (from Raoul le Fevre's 
 Recueil des Histoires de Troyes), or Lydgate's 
 
378 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Hystorye, Sege and dystruccyon of Troye, 1513, 
 1555 (from Guido di Colonna), or both. Thersites, 
 or at least a hint of the character, seems to be 
 taken from Chapman's Iliad, the first seven books 
 of which appeared in 1597. 
 
 Troilus and Cressida has been a perplexing sub- 
 ject for many of the ablest critics, Coleridge 
 remarks: "There is no one of Shakspeare's plays 
 harder to characterize. The name, and the remem- 
 brances connected with it, prepare us for the repre- 
 sentation of attachment no less faithful than fervent 
 on the side of the youth, and of sudden and shame- 
 less inconstancy on the part of the lady. And this 
 is, indeed, as the gold thread on which the scenes 
 are strung, though often kept out of sight, and out 
 of mind by gems of greater value than itself. But 
 as Shakspeare calls for nothing from the mau- 
 soleum of history, or the catacombs of tradition, 
 without giving, or eliciting, some permanent and 
 general interest, and brings forward no subject 
 which he does not moralize or intellectualize, — 
 so here he has drawn in Cressida the portrait of 
 a vehement passion, that, having its true origin and 
 proper cause in warmth of temperament, fastens 
 on, rather than fixes to, some one object by liking 
 and temporary preference. This Shakspeare has 
 contrasted with the profound affection represented 
 in Troilus, and alone worthy the name of love — - 
 affection, passionate indeed, swollen with the conflu- 
 ■ence of youthful instincts and youthful fancy, and 
 
Transition from Comedy to Tragedy 379 
 
 growing in the radiance of hope newly risen, in 
 short enlarged by the collective sympathies of 
 nature ; but still having a depth of calmer element 
 in a will stronger than desire, more entire than 
 choice, and which gives permanence to its own act 
 by converting it into faith and duty. Hence with 
 excellent judgment, and with an excellence higher 
 than mere judgment can give, at the close of the 
 play, when Cressida has sunk into infamy below 
 retrieval and beneath hope, the same will which 
 had been the substance and the basis of his love, 
 while the restless pleasures and passionate long- 
 ings, like sea-waves, had tossed but on its surface 
 — this same moral energy is represented as snatch- 
 ing him aloof from all neighbourhood with her 
 dishonour, from all lingering fondness and languish- 
 ing regrets, whilst it rushes with him into other 
 and nobler duties, and deepens the channel which 
 his heroic brother's death had left empty for its 
 collected flood. . . . 
 
 " To all this, however, so little comparative pro- 
 jection is given — nay, the masterly group of 
 Agamemnon, Nestor, and Ulysses, and, still more 
 in advance, that of Achilles, Ajax, and Thersites, 
 so manifestly occupy the foreground — that the 
 subservience and vassalage of strength and animal 
 courage to intellect and policy seems to be the 
 lesson most often in our poet's view, and which 
 he has taken little pains to connect with the former 
 more interesting moral impersonated in the titular 
 
380 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 hero and heroine of the drama. But I am half 
 inclined to believe that Shakspeare's main object, 
 or, shall I rather say, his ruling impulse, was to 
 translate the poetic heroes of paganism into the 
 not less rude, but more intellectually vigorous, 
 and more featurely, warriors of Christian chivalry, 
 and to substantiate the distinct and graceful 
 profiles or outlines of the Homeric epic into the 
 flesh and blood of the romantic drama — in short, 
 to give a grand history-piece in the robust style 
 of Albert Durer." 
 
 In an article " On Reading Shakespeare " (in The 
 Galaxy, for February, 1877), Grant White has 
 some admirable comments on this play, some 
 passages from which may well supplement those 
 from Coleridge : — 
 
 " Troilus and Cressida is Shakespeare's wisest 
 play in the way of worldly wisdom. It is filled 
 choke-full of sententious, and in most cases slightly 
 satirical revelations of human nature, uttered with 
 a felicity of phrase and an impressiveness of 
 metaphor that make each one seem like a beam 
 of light shot into the recesses of man's heart. 
 
 "The undramatic character of Troilus and Cres- 
 sida appears in its structure, its personages, and its 
 purpose. . . . There is also a singular lack of that 
 peculiar characteristic of Shakespeare's dramatic 
 style, the marked distinction and nice discrimina- 
 tion of the individual traits, mental and moral, 
 of the various personages. Ulysses is the real 
 
Transition from Comedy to Tragedy 381 
 
 ihero of the play; the chief, or, at least, the great 
 purpose of which is the utterance of the Ulyssean 
 view of life; and in this play Shakespeare is 
 Ulysses, or Ulysses Shakespeare. In all his other 
 plays Shakespeare so lost his personal conscious- 
 ness in the individuality of his own creations that 
 they think and feel, as well as act, like real men 
 and women other than their creator, so that we 
 cannot truly say of the thoughts and feelings which 
 they express, that Shakespeare says thus or so; for 
 it is not Shakespeare who speaks, but they with 
 his lips. But in Ulysses, Shakespeare, acting upon 
 a mere hint, filling up a mere traditionary outline, 
 drew a man of mature years, of wide observation, 
 of profoundest cogitative power, one who knew all 
 the weakness and all the wiles of human nature, 
 and who yet remained with blood unbittered and 
 soul unsoured — a man who saw through all shams, 
 and fathomed all motives, and who yet was not 
 scornful of his kind, not misanthropic, hardly 
 cynical except in passing moods; and what other 
 man was this than Shakespeare himself? What 
 had he to do when he had passed forty years, but 
 to utter his own thoughts when he would find words 
 for the lips of Ulysses? And thus it is that 
 Troilus and Cressida is Shakespeare's wisest play. 
 If we would know what Shakespeare thought of 
 men and their motives after he reached maturity, 
 we have but to read this drama — drama it is, but 
 with what other character, who shall say ? For, 
 
382, Life of Shakespeare 
 
 like the world's pageant, it is neither tragedy nor 
 comedy, but a tragi-comic history, in which the 
 intrigues of amorous men and light-o'-loves and 
 the brokerage of panders are mingled with the 
 deliberations of sages and the strife and the death 
 of heroes. . . . And Avhy, indeed, should Ulysses 
 not speak for Shakespeare, or how could it be other 
 than that he should? The man who had written 
 Hamlet, King Lear, Othello, and Macbeth, if he 
 wished to find Ulysses, had only to turn his mind's 
 eye inward ; and thus we have in this drama 
 Shakespeare's only piece of introspective work." 
 
 Although these three "comedies" that are not 
 comedies appear to form a natural group, and indi- 
 cate that Shakespeare's interest was changing from 
 comedy to tragedy, it is not necessary to suppose 
 that they were written or revised in immediate 
 succession and apart from other work. Two of 
 them — All 's Well and Troilus and Cressida — we 
 have seen to be early plays which were taken up at 
 this time for revision or reconstruction; and some 
 critics (see page 321 above) believe that Troilus and 
 Cressida was connected with the " War of the 
 Theatres," though this is highly improbable. That 
 the prevailing tone of these plays, as Hallam, 
 Verplanck, Dowden, and others assume, was not due 
 merely to a change in taste or an inclination to try 
 a new experiment in dramatic composition, but was 
 connected in some way with Shakespeare's personal 
 experiences, can hardly be doubted; though this 
 
Transition from Comedy to Tragedy 383 
 
 view is vehemently opposed by some excellent 
 critics, who insist that he simply wrote what 
 theatrical managers wanted, whether comedy or 
 tragedy. "If a comedy was called for," they ask, 
 " would he have declined to furnish it on the ground 
 that he was in his tragic period ? " Probably not ; 
 but it would have proved to be a comedy like All 's 
 Well or Measure for Measure rather than As You 
 Like It or Twelfth Night. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE GREAT TRAGEDIES 
 
 The earliest edition of Hamlet, so far as we 
 know, appeared in quarto form in 1603; and the 
 title-page informs us that it had "beene diverse 
 times acted by his Highnesse servants in the Cittie 
 of London, as also in the two Vniversities of Cam- 
 bridge and Oxford, and elsewhere." 
 
 In 1604, a segond quarto was published, claiming 
 to be "newly imprinted and enlarged to almost as 
 much againe as it was, according to the true and 
 perfect Coppie." 
 
 A third quarto, reprinted from the second, ap- 
 peared in 1605 ; a fourth in 1611 ; and later a fifth, 
 which is undated. No other has been discovered 
 that was issued during the life of Shakespeare or 
 previous to the publication of the folio of 1623. 
 
 The text of the folio varies considerably from 
 that of the quartos, and it has been thought that it 
 might be derived from " some hitherto unknown 
 quarto." It is not impossible that there may have 
 been such a quarto. No copy of the quarto of 1603 
 was known until 1823, when one was found by Sir 
 Henry Bunbury. A second was picked up in 1856 
 
 384 
 
The Great Tragedies 385 
 
 by a Dublin bookseller, who paid a shilling for it. 
 The former, which lacks the last page, was after- 
 wards sold to the Duke of Devonshire for £230; 
 the latter, which wants the title-page, was bought 
 by Halliwell-Phillipps for £120, and is now in the 
 British Museum. If the folio text was not from 
 a lost quarto, it was probably from a manuscript 
 obtained by the editors from the theatre. The 
 standard text of the play is chiefly made up by a 
 collation of the second quarto and the folio. 
 
 The relation of the first quarto to the second has 
 been much disputed. Collier, White, and some 
 other critics believe that the former is merely an 
 imperfect report of the play as published in the 
 latter; that it was printed, either from short-hand 
 notes taken at the theatre, or from a stage-copy cut 
 down for representation and perhaps corrupted by 
 the insertion of stuff from an earlier plaj^ on the 
 same subject. The second quarto, on the other 
 hand, was an authorized edition of the play from 
 "the true and perfect copy." 
 
 Other critics — among whom are Caldecott, 
 Knight, Staunton, and Dyce — believe that the 
 first quarto represents, though in a corrupt form, 
 the first draught of the play, while the second gives 
 it as remodelled and enlarged by the author. It 
 is not necessary to suppose that the former was 
 written near the time when it was published; it 
 was more likely an early production of the poet. 
 After the revision the original copy could be more 
 
386 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 easily obtained for surreptitious publication, and it 
 may have been printed in haste to "head off" an 
 authorized edition of the remodelled play. 
 
 Another theory, and a very plausible one, is that 
 of Messrs. Clark and Wright, brought out in the 
 " Clarendon Press " edition of the play ; namely, 
 " that there was an old play on the story of Hamlet, 
 some portions of which are still preserved in the 
 quarto of 1603; that about the year 1602 Shake- 
 speare took this and began to remodel it, as he had 
 done with other plays; that the quarto of 1603 
 represents the play after it had been retouched by 
 him to a certain extent, but before his alterations 
 were complete ; and that in the quarto of 1604 we 
 have for the first time the Hamlet of Shakespeare." 
 
 There was certainly an old play on the subject of 
 Hamlet, and some critics believe that it was an 
 early work of Shakespeare's. The first allusion to 
 it that has been discovered is in an Epistle "To 
 the Gentleman Students of both Universities," by 
 Thomas Nash, prefixed to Greene's Menaphon, 
 printed in 1589. Referring to the playwrights of 
 that day, Nash says : "It is a common practice now 
 a dales amongst a sort of shifting companions, that 
 runne through every arte and thrive by none to 
 leave the trade of Noverint whereto they were 
 borne, and busie themselves with the indevours of 
 art, that could scarcelie latinize their necke-verse 
 if they should have neede ; yet English Seneca read 
 by candle-light yeeldes manie good sentences, as 
 
The Great Tragedies 387 
 
 Bloud is a begger, and so f oortli : and if you intreate 
 him faire in a frostie morning, he will affoord you 
 whole Hamlets, I should say Handf uUs of tragical 
 speaches." 
 
 In Henslowe's Diary the following entry occurs : 
 "9 of June, 1594, Ed at hamlet . . . viiij'" Five 
 lines above the entry is this memorandum : " In the 
 name of God Amen, beginninge at Newington, my 
 Lord Admeralle and my Lorde chamberlen men, as 
 foloweth, 1594." At this date, Shakespeare was 
 one of the company of actors known as " the Lord 
 Chamberlain's men." 
 
 Again, in Lodge's Wits miserie and the Worlds 
 madnesse, published in 1596, we have an allusion to 
 " ye ghost which cried so miserally [sic] at y^ thea- 
 tor, like an oisterwife, Hamlet reuenge." 
 
 It is impossible to say what use Shakespeare 
 made of this old English play (it cannot be a 
 youthful production of his own), as it seems to be 
 hopelessly lost. Of another source from which he 
 probably derived his material we have better knowl- 
 edge : namely, The Hystorie of Hamhlet, translated 
 from the Histoires Tragiques of Francis de Belle- 
 forest. The story of Hamlet is found in the fifth 
 volume, which was printed at Paris in 1570. The 
 English version was probably made soon after, 
 though the only edition now extant is that of 
 1608. 
 
 The poet has followed the Hystorie in some of its 
 main incidents — the murder of Hamlet's father by 
 
388 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 his uncle, the marriage of his mother with the mur- 
 derer, his feigned madness, his killing of Polonius, 
 his interview with his mother, his voyage to Eng- 
 land, his return, and his revenge — but not in the 
 denouement. In the Hystorie Hamlet, after his 
 uncle's death, becomes King of Denmark, visits 
 England again, marries two wives, by one of whom 
 he is betrayed into the power of his maternal 
 uncle, Wiglerus, and is finally slain in battle. 
 
 It may be added that Belleforest got the story 
 from the Historia Danica of Saxo Grammaticus, 
 written about the close of the 12th century, though 
 the earliest existing edition of it is that of Paris, 
 1514. 
 
 The mere bibliography of the literature of Ham- 
 let would fill a volume. The amount that has been 
 written about the play far exceeds that on any 
 other of Shakespeare's works. Furness does not 
 exaggerate when he says in the preface to his mon- 
 umental edition: "No one of mortal mould (save 
 Him ' whose blessed feet were nailed for our advan- 
 tage to the bitter cross ') ever trod this earth, com- 
 manding such absorbing interest as this Hamlet, 
 this mere creation of a poet's brain. No syllable 
 that he whispers, no word let fall by any one near 
 him, but is caught and pondered as no words ever 
 have been, except of Holy Writ. Upon no throne 
 built by mortal hands has ever 'beat so fierce a 
 light' as upon that airy fabric reared at Elsinore." 
 
 Of the countless attempts to pluck out the heart 
 
The Great Tragedies 389 
 
 of Hamlet's mystery, that of Goethe (in Wilhelm 
 Meister) is one of the most famous, and has met 
 with considerable favour among more recent critics. 
 The gist of it may be stated very briefly. After 
 quoting the ejaculation of the Prince at the close of 
 his interview with the Ghost (i. 5. 189, 190), — 
 
 << The time is out of joint ; O cursed spite, 
 That ever I was born to set it right ! " — 
 
 Goethe continues thus: "In these words, I imag- 
 ine, is the key to Hamlet's whole procedure, and to 
 me it is clear that Shakespeare sought to depict a 
 great deed laid upon a soul unequal to the perform- 
 ance of it. In this view I find the piece composed 
 throughout. Here is an oak-tree planted in a costly 
 vase, which should have received into its bosom 
 only lovely flowers ; the roots spread out, the vase 
 is shivered to pieces. 
 
 " A beautiful, pure, and most moral nature, with- 
 out the strength of nerve which makes the hero, 
 sinks beneath a burden which it can neither bear 
 nor throw off; every duty is holy to him, — this 
 too hard. The impossible is required of him, — 
 not the impossible in itself, but the impossible to 
 him. How he winds, turns, agonizes, advances, and 
 recoils, ever reminded, ever reminding himself, and 
 at last almost loses his purpose from his thoughts, 
 without ever again recovering his peace of mind." 
 
 A more common view is that Hamlet's will is 
 paralyzed by excess of intellect. This theory origi- 
 
390 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 nated with Coleridge, who says: "We see a great, 
 an almost enormous intellectual activity, and a 
 proportionate aversion to real action consequent 
 upon it, with all its symptoms and accompanying 
 qualities. Hamlet is brave and careless of death; 
 but he vacillates from sensibility, and procrasti- 
 nates from thought, and loses the power of action 
 in the energy of resolve." 
 
 A far more satisfactory theory has been advanced 
 more recently in Germany, to which Furness refers 
 in the preface to his edition as follows : — 
 
 "The last theory of Hamlet's character which has 
 arrested special attention in Germany by the bold 
 and animated way in which it has been set forth by 
 its chiefest expounder, Werder, was first proposed 
 in strong terms by Klein. It sweeps aside every 
 vestige of Goethe's explanation, with all theories 
 akin to it. It affirms Hamlet to be a man of action, 
 never at a loss, never wavering, taking in at once 
 the position of affairs, adjusting himself thereto 
 with admirable sagacity, and instantly acting with 
 consummate tact as occasions require." 
 
 As Furness adds, "A theory so directly opposed 
 to all accepted ideas of Hamlet claims a full expo- 
 sition ; " and he therefore gives more than sixteen 
 pages of fine print to a translation of passages from 
 Werder's Vorlesungen uber Shakespeare's Hamlet 
 (Berlin, 1875). It is to be regretted that the entire 
 work is not accessible in English. 
 
 This theory is fully accepted by Furness himself, 
 
The Great Tragedies 391 
 
 as by not a few of the recent editors and critics. 
 Hudson, who in the first edition of Shakespeare' s 
 Life, Art, and Characters (1872) had taken the 
 ground that insanity was the real explanation of 
 the character — that, "in plain terms, Hamlet is 
 mad; ... a derangement partial and occasional, 
 paroxysms of wildness and fury alternating with 
 intervals of serenity and composure " — adopts the 
 Klein- Werder theory in the revised edition of his 
 book, published in 1882. After referring to the 
 various changes his views of Hamlet had undergone 
 in the course of thirty-eight years, he states that he 
 became acquainted with Werder's discussion of the 
 subject through Furness's edition of the play. He 
 adds: "This essay seemed to me then, and seems 
 to me still, altogether the j ustest and most adequate 
 analytic interpretation of the character that criti- 
 cism has yet produced. I read the matter again 
 and again, with intense avidity, and almost unal- 
 loyed satisfaction; feeling that there, for the first 
 time, the real scope of the theme had been rightly 
 seized and its contents properly discoursed." 
 
 Sidney Lee, the latest of Shakespeare's biogra- 
 phers, adheres to Coleridge's theory, regarding 
 Hamlet as "mainly a psychological effort, a study 
 of the reflective temperament in excess." The hero, 
 he adds, is " a high-born youth of chivalric instincts 
 and finely developed intellect, who, when stirred to 
 avenge a desperate private wrong, is foiled by intro- 
 spective workings of the brain that paralyze the will." 
 
392 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Othello was just published in quarto form in 
 1622, with the following preface : — 
 
 " The Stationer to the Reader. 
 
 " To set forth a booke without an Epistle, were like to the 
 old English prouerbe, A blew coat without a badge, & the 
 Author being dead, I thought good to take that piece of 
 worke upon mee : To commend it, I will not, for that 
 which is good, I hope euery man will commend, without 
 intreaty : and I am the bolder, because the Authors 
 name is sufl&cient to vent his worke. Thus leaning euery 
 one to the liberty of iudgement : I haue ventered to print 
 this Play, and leaue it to the generall censure. 
 " Yours, 
 
 " Thomas VValkley." 
 
 The next year it appeared in the first folio, where 
 the text varies materially from that of the quarto, 
 and was evidently printed from a different manu- 
 script of the play. 
 
 Othello was formerly reckoned one of the latest 
 of the plays, being dated by the editors and critics 
 at various points between 1611 and 1614; but, ac- 
 cording to the Accounts of the Masters of the 
 Eevels (published in 1842) "The Moor of Venis" 
 was performed " in the Bankettinge house att White- 
 hall " on " Hallomas Day being the first of Novem- 
 bar," 1604, This and other similar entries were 
 afterwards (1868) proved to be forgeries; but they 
 have since been shown to be based on facts. Inter- 
 
The Great Tragedies 393 
 
 nal evidence also, it is now generally agreed, proves 
 that the play was written in or near 1604. Stokes 
 (^Chronological Order of Shakespeare's Plays, 1878) 
 shows that it was written before 1606 by the fact 
 that in the quarto of 1622 (i. 1. 4) we find the oath 
 "'Sblood" (God's blood), while this is omitted in 
 the folio. This indicates that the quarto was 
 printed from a copy made before the act of Parlia- 
 ment issued in 1606 against the abuse of the name 
 of God in plays, etc. So " Zounds " and " by the 
 mass " (in ii. 3) are found in the quarto but not in 
 the folio. 
 
 It must, however, be borne in mind that at the 
 date assumed for the production of Othello Shake- 
 speare was in the full maturity of his powers. He 
 had already written Hamlet, and Macbeth and Lear 
 were soon to follow. It seems fitting that these 
 " four great tragedies " should be associated in their 
 time of composition as in the pre-eminent rank they 
 hold among the poet's works. There is no other 
 such group in the literature of any country or any 
 age. 
 
 As to the position which Othello is to hold among 
 the four, the best critics do not agree; but there 
 have not been wanting those who assigned it the 
 foremost place. Macaulay expresses the opinion 
 that it "is perhaps the greatest work in the world." 
 Wordsworth says : " The tragedy of Othello, Plato's 
 records of the last scenes in the career of Socrates, 
 and Izaak Walton's Life of George Herbert are 
 
394 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 the most pathetic of human compositions ; " and 
 again, in one of his sonnets, referring to books, he 
 says : — 
 
 « There find I personal themes, a plenteous store, 
 Matter wherein right voluble I am, 
 To which I listen with a ready ear ; 
 Two shall be named, pre-eminently dear, — 
 The gentle lady married to the Moor, 
 And heavenly Una with her milk-white lamb.' 
 
 The earliest known reference to the play is found 
 in the MS. diary of Hans Jacob Wurmsser von 
 Vendenhagen, who accompanied Louis Frederick, 
 Duke of Wurtemberg-Mumpelgard, in a diplomatic 
 mission to England in 1610 on behalf of the Protes- 
 tant German princes. In this little volume, pre- 
 served in the British Museum, we read under date 
 of April 10, 1610 : " S. E. alia au Globe, lieu ordi- 
 naire ou I'on joue les commedies; y fut represent^ 
 I'histoire du More de Venise." There can be little 
 doubt that this refers to Shakespeare's play. 
 
 The story of the play appears to have been taken 
 from the Hecatommithi of Giraldi Cinthio (see page 
 370 above), published in 1565. The tale is short, 
 not longer than a single act of Othello, and the fol- 
 lowing is an outline of it : — 
 
 There lived at Venice a valiant Moor, held in 
 great esteem for his military talent and services. 
 Desdemona, a lady of marvellous beauty, attracted 
 not by female fancy (appetito donnesco), but by his 
 
The Great Tragedies 395 
 
 high virtues, became enamoured of the Moor, who 
 returned her love, and, in spite of the opposition of 
 her relations, married her. They lived in ^-eat 
 happiness in Venice until the Moor (he has no other 
 name in the story) was chosen to the military com- 
 mand of Cyprus, whither his wife insisted on accom- 
 panying him. He took with him a favourite ensign, 
 a man of great personal beauty, but of the most 
 depraved heart — a boaster and a coward. His wife 
 is the friend of Desdemona. The ensign falls pas- 
 sionately in love with Desdemona, who, wrapped 
 tip in love of her husband, pays no regard to him. 
 His love then turns to bitter hate, and he resolves 
 to charge her with infidelity, and to fix the Moor's 
 suspicions upon a favourite captain of his. Soon 
 after, that officer strikes and wounds a soldier on 
 guard, for which the Moor cashiers him. Desde- 
 m.ona endeavours to obtain his pardon; and this 
 gives the ensign an opportunity of insinuating ac- 
 cusations against her, and rousing the Moor's jeal- 
 ousy. These suspicions he confirms by stealing 
 from her a favourite wrought handkerchief, and 
 leaving it on the captain's bed. Then the Moor 
 and his ensign plot together to kill Desdemona and 
 her supposed lover. The latter is waylaid and 
 wounded in the dark by the ensign. Desdemona is 
 beaten to death by him also " with a stocking filled 
 with sand ; " and then the Moor and he attempt to 
 conceal their murder by pulling down the ceiling, 
 and giving out that she was killed by the fall of a 
 
2g6 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 beam. The Moor becomes almost frantic with his 
 loss — turns upon the ensign, whom he degrades 
 and drives from him. The ensign revenges himself 
 by disclosing the murder to the captain, upon whose 
 accusation to the senate the Moor is arrested, tried, 
 tortured, and then banished, and afterwards killed 
 by Desdemona's relatives. 
 
 Shakespeare owes to the tale only the general 
 outline of his plot, and the suggestion of the 
 character of Desdemona, which, however, he has 
 elevated as well as expanded. He is also indebted 
 to Cinthio for the artful insinuations by which 
 lago first rouses the Moor's suspicions. But all 
 else is essentially the poet's own. Cinthio's savage 
 Moor and cunning ensign have scarcely any thing in 
 common with the heroic, the gentle, the terrible 
 Othello, or with lago's proud, contemptuous intel- 
 lect, bitter wit, cool malignity, and " learned spirit." 
 Cassio and Emilia owe to Shakespeare all their 
 individuality: Eoderigo, Brabantio, and the rest,. 
 are entirely his creation. 
 
 Coleridge was the first to point out — what some 
 of the earlier, and indeed, some of the later critics 
 needed to be reminded of — that the passion of 
 Othello is not altogether jealousy, but rather a 
 " solemn agony " that the woman who had been 
 to him the ideal of purity should prove to be 
 a wanton. Jealousy, in the strict sense, has its 
 origin in the man's own suspicious nature, and 
 is generally groundless or based upon " trifles light. 
 
The Great Tragedies 397 
 
 as air" that are misconceived and magnified by 
 foul surmise. It is nourished, as Massinger says, 
 
 " with imagined food, 
 Holding no real ground on which to raise 
 A building of suspicion she was ever 
 Or can be false ; " 
 
 or, as Hunter says, in commenting upon lago's 
 ■ description of it as 
 
 " the green-eyed monster which doth mock 
 The meat it feeds on" 
 
 (not "make" it, as some alter the reading, though 
 that is also true enough) : " Jealousy mocks the 
 person who surrenders his mind to her influence, 
 deluding him perpetually with some new show of 
 suspicion, sporting with his agonized feelings, just 
 as the feline tribe sport with the prey which they 
 have got into their power." Ford, in the Merry 
 Wives, and Leontes, in The Winter's Tale, are jeal- 
 ous ; the one with only comical, the other with almost 
 tragical results, but both without the shadow of 
 reason for their suspicions. But Othello, as he 
 himself says, is "not easily jealous;" and when 
 lago tells him he is — which he would not have 
 done if he had not known it was a lie — Othello, 
 with honest indignation, replies : — 
 
 " Why, why is this ? 
 Think 'st thou I 'd make a life of jealousy. 
 To follow still the changes of the moon 
 
39 8 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 With fresh suspicions ? No ; to be once in doubt 
 
 Is once to be resolved : exchange me for a goat, 
 
 When I shall turn the business of my soul 
 
 To such exsufflicate and blown surmises, 
 
 Matching thy inference. 'T is not to make me jealous 
 
 To say my wife is fair, feeds well, loves company, 
 
 Is free of speech, sings, plays, and dances well ; 
 
 Where virtue is, these are more virtuous : 
 
 Nor from mine own weak merits will I draw 
 
 The smallest fear or doubt of her revolt. 
 
 For she had eyes and chose me. No, lago 1 
 
 I'll see before I doubt, when I doubt prove ; 
 
 And on the proof there is no more but this, — 
 
 Away at once with love or jealousy ! " 
 
 And it is not until lago does make him " see " what 
 seems to be "proof," and adds his own lying testi- 
 mony concerning Cassio's talk in his sleep and 
 other falsehoods no less incriminating, that he is 
 compelled to believe Desdemona guilty. The evi- 
 dence furnished by " honest lago " would have con- 
 victed her of infidelity in a court of law. 
 
 As Ulrici remarks, " Othello nowhere gives utter- 
 ance to jealousy before he is excited and spurred 
 on to it by lago. Not a word of anxiety, of un- 
 easiness, or of suspicion passes his lips, not a 
 thought of the possibility of Desdemona's infidelity 
 is in his heart. Even lago's assertions are by no 
 means trusted at once; Othello demands proofs, 
 striking, irresistible proofs. It is only when he 
 thinks that he has the evidence clearly in his hands 
 
The Great Tragedies 399 
 
 that there first springs forth that jealousy which 
 had hitherto existed but as a germ ; being, however, 
 matured by his hot blood, by his excitable feelings, 
 and the glowing power of his imagination, it spreads 
 like wild-fire. . . . But the man who has reasons 
 for being jealous is himself not actually jealous. 
 The nature of the passion consists rather in the 
 fact that it invariably seeks for something where 
 nothing is to be found. The passion of pain and 
 anger about actual infidelity is as justifiable as that 
 excited by any other moral offence committed by 
 the one we love. Nevertheless Othello's pain and 
 rage have externally the appearance of jealousy, 
 partly on account of the vehemence with which he 
 expresses himself, partly because the proofs are as 
 yet proofs only for him, in reality no proofs, or 
 because it is his misfortune to be inexpressibly 
 belied and deceived." 
 
 It may be added that lago is not only the most 
 intellectual, but also one of the most voluble of 
 Shakespeare's villains. He speaks 1117 lines 
 ("Globe" numbering) or almost exactly one-third 
 of all (3317) in the play. Only two characters in 
 other plays exceed his record: Hamlet, with 1569 
 lines, and Eichard III., with 1161. Henry V., 
 with his 1063 lines, is the only other character, 
 male or female, who has more than a thousand 
 lines. 
 
 Whether Macbeth or King Lear was the next of 
 the great tragedies is a disputed question. Both 
 
400 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 were probably written in 1606 and 1607, but it is 
 impossible to determine with absolute certainty 
 which was the earlier. 
 
 Macbeth was first printed in the folio of 1623, 
 having been registered in the books of the Station- 
 ers' Company as one of the plays "not formerly 
 entered to other men." It must have been written 
 between 1604 and 1610; the former limit being 
 fixed by the allusion to the union of England and 
 Scotland under James I. (iv. 1. 120), and the latter 
 by the manuscript Diary of Dr. Simon Form an, 
 who saw the play performed on the 20th of April, 
 1610. His account of it is as follows : — 
 
 "In Mackbeth at the Glob, 1610, ths 20 of Aprill, 
 Saturday, ther was to be observed, firste, howe Mackbeth 
 and Bancko, two noble men of Scotland, ridinge thorowe 
 a wod, the^ stode before them three women feiries or 
 nimphes, and saluted Mackbeth, sayinge three tyms 
 unto him, Haille, Mackbeth, King of Codon; for thou 
 shall be a kinge, but shall beget no kinges, etc. Then 
 said Bancko, what all to Mackbeth, and nothing to me ? 
 Yes, said the nimphes, haille to thee, Banko, thou shall 
 beget kinges, yet be no kinge ; and so they departed and 
 cam to the courte of Scotland to Dunkin, King of Scotes, 
 and yt was in the dais of Edward the Confessor. And 
 Dunkin bad them both kindly wellcom, and made Mack- 
 beth forthwith Prince of ^Northumberland, and sent him 
 horn to his own castell, and appointed Mackbeth to 
 provid for him, for he wold sup with him the next dai 
 «,t night, and did soe. And Mackebeth contrived to kill 
 
The Great Tragedies 401 
 
 Dunkin, and thorowe the persuasion, of his wife did that 
 night murder the kinge in his own castell, beinge his 
 guest ; and ther were many prodigies seen that night and 
 the dai before. And when Mack Beth had murdred the 
 kinge, the blod on his handes could not be washed of by 
 any means, nor from his wives handes, wliich handled 
 the bluddi daggers in hiding them, by which means they 
 became both moch amazed and affronted. The murder 
 being knowen, Dunkins two sonns fled, the on to Eng- 
 land, the (other to) Walles, to save them selves. They 
 beinge fled, they were supposed guilty of the murder 
 of their father, which was nothinge so. Then was Mack- 
 beth crowned kinge ; and then he, for feare of Banko, his 
 old companion, that he should beget Kinges but be no 
 kinge him self, he contrived the death of Banko, and 
 caused him to be murdred on the way as he rode. The 
 next night, beinge at supper with his noble men whom 
 he had bid to a feaste, to the which also Banco should 
 have com, he began to speake of noble Banco, and to 
 wish that he wer ther. And as he thus did, standing up 
 to drinck a carouse to him, the ghoste of Banco came and 
 sate down in his cheier be-hind him. And he, turninge 
 about to sit down again, sawe the goste of Banco, which 
 fronted him so, that he fell into a great passion of fear 
 and fury, utteringe many wordes about his murder, by 
 which, when they hard that Banco was murdred, they 
 suspected Mackbet. Then Mack Dove fled to England to 
 the kinges sonn, and soe they raised an army and cam 
 into Scotland, and at Dunstonanyse overthrue Mackbet. 
 In the mean tyme, whille Macdove was in England, 
 Mackbet slew Mackdoves wife and children, and after in 
 the battelle Mackdove slewe Makcbet. Observe also howe 
 Mackbetes quen did rise in the night in her slepe, and 
 
402 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 walke and talked and confessed all, and the docter noted 
 her wordes." 
 
 The old physician and astrologer is not accurate 
 in regard to some of the details of the plot; but 
 he could hardly have been mistaken in stating that 
 Macbeth and Banquo made their first appearance 
 on horseback, a curious testimony to the rude en- 
 deavours of the stage-managers of the day to invest 
 their representations with something of reality. 
 The weird sisters were personated by men whose 
 heads were disguised by grotesque periwigs. For- 
 man's narrative decides a question, which has fre- 
 quently been raised, as to whether the Ghost of 
 Banquo is a true apparition or only the product 
 of Macbeth' s imagination. There is no doubt that 
 the Ghost was personally introduced on the early 
 stage as well as long afterwards, when the tragedy 
 was revived by Davenant ; but as it was the common 
 belief in Shakespeare's day that spirits were gener- 
 ally visible only to those connected with their 
 object or mission, an artificial stimulus to credulity 
 in that direction was unnecessary in theatrical 
 representations. 
 
 Some critics have thought that the play must 
 have been a new one, since otherwise Forman 
 " would scarcely have been at the pains to make an 
 elaborate summary of the plot ; " but this merely 
 shows that the play was new to him, and that the 
 story made a deep impression upon him. 
 
The Great Tragedies 403 
 
 It is probable that the tragedy was written in 
 1606 or 1607. The accession of James made Scot- 
 tish subjects popular in England, and the tale of 
 Macbeth and Banquo would be one of the first to be 
 brought forward, as Banquo was held to be an 
 ancestor of the new king. A Latin " interlude " 
 on this subject was performed at Oxford in 1605, 
 on the occasion of the king's visit to the city; 
 but there is no reason for supposing, as Farmer 
 did, that Shakespeare got the hint of his tragedy 
 from that source. 
 
 It is barely possible that there was an earlier 
 play on the subject of Macbeth. In the Eegisters 
 of the Stationers' Company, under date of August 
 27, 1596, there is the entry of a "Ballad of Makdo- 
 beth," which was not improbably a drama, rather 
 than a " ballad " properly so called. The same 
 piece seems to be referred to in Kemp's Nine Days' 
 Wonder (1600), where it is called a "miserable 
 stolne story," the work of "a penny Poet." 
 
 Steevens maintained that Shakespeare was in- 
 debted, in the supernatural parts of Macbeth, to 
 The Witch, a play by Thomas Middleton, which 
 was discovered in manuscript towards the close of 
 the eighteenth century. Mai one at first took the 
 same view of the subject, but afterwards came to 
 the conclusion that Middleton' s play was the later 
 production, and that he must therefore be the 
 plagiarist. The Clarendon Press editors take the 
 ground that there are portions of Macbeth which 
 
404 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Shakespeare did not write; that these were inter- 
 polated after the poet's death, or at least after he 
 had ceased to be connected with the theatre ; and 
 that " the interpolator was, not improbably, Thomas 
 Middleton." Fleay believes that the part of Hecate 
 (which cannot be Shakespeare's) was supplied by 
 Middleton; and also that the play as we have it is 
 " abridged for the stage in an unusual degree." 
 
 The brevity and the imperfections of the play 
 are more satisfactorily explained by the haste with 
 which it was written. Grant White remarks : " It 
 exhibits throughout the hasty execution of a grand 
 and clearly conceived design. But the haste is that 
 of a master of his art, who, with conscious com- 
 mand of its resources, and in the frenzy of a grand 
 inspiration, works out his composition to its minut- 
 est detail of essential form, leaving the work of 
 surface finish for the occupation of cooler leisure. 
 What the Sistine Madonna was to Eaphael, it seems 
 that Macbeth was to Shakespeare — a magnificent 
 impromptu; that kind of impromptu which results 
 from the application of well-disciplined powers and 
 rich stores of thought to a subject suggested by 
 occasion. I am inclined to regard Macbeth as, for 
 the most part, a specimen of Shakespeare's unelab- 
 orated, if not unfinished, writing, in the maturity 
 and highest vitality of his genius. It abounds in 
 instances of extremest compression and most daring 
 ellipsis, while it exhibits in every scene a union of 
 supreme dramatic and poetic power, and in almost 
 
The Great Tragedies 405 
 
 every line an imperially irresponsible control of 
 language. Hence, I think, its lack of completeness 
 of versification in certain passages, and also some 
 of the imperfection of the text, the thought in 
 which the compositors were not always able to 
 follow and apprehend." 
 
 Shakespeare drew the materials of his plot from 
 Holinshed's Chronicles, the first edition of which 
 appeared in 1577, and the second in 1586-87. As 
 he used the latter edition in writing Richard II. (see 
 page 184 above) he doubtless used it also for Mac- 
 beth, which was written later. The main incidents 
 are taken from Holinshed's account of two separate 
 events — the murder of Duncan by Macbeth, and 
 that of King Duffe, the great-grandfather of Lady 
 Macbeth, by Donwald. Shakespeare has deviated 
 in other respects from the chronicle, especially in 
 the character of Ban quo. 
 
 Although " the interest of Macbeth is not an his- 
 torical interest," so that it matters little whether 
 the action is true or has been related as true, it 
 may be added that the story of the drama is almost 
 wholly apocryphal. Sir Walter Scott says : — 
 
 "Macbeth broke no law of hospitality in his 
 attempt on Duncan's life. He attacked and slew 
 the king at a place called Bothgowan, or the Smith's 
 House, near Elgin, in 1039, and not, as has been 
 supposed, in his own castle of Inverness. The act 
 was bloody, as was the complexion of the times; 
 but, in very truth, the claim of Macbeth to the 
 
4o6 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 throne, according to the rule of Scottish succession, 
 was better than that of Duncan. As a king, the 
 tyrant so much exclaimed against was, in reality, a 
 firm, just, and equitable prince. Apprehensions of 
 danger from a party which Malcolm, the eldest son 
 of the slaughtered Duncan, had set on foot in 
 Northumberland, and still maintained in Scotland, 
 seem, in process of time, to have soured the temper 
 of Macbeth, and rendered him formidable to his 
 nobility. Against Macduff, in particular, the pow- 
 erful Maormor of Fife, he had uttered some threats 
 which occasioned that chief to fly from the Court 
 of Scotland. Urged by this new counsellor, Siward, 
 the Danish Earl of Northumberland, invaded Scot- 
 land in the year 1054, displaying his banner in 
 behalf of the banished Malcolm. Macbeth engaged 
 the foe in the neighbourhood of his celebrated castle 
 of Dunsinane. He was defeated, but escaped from 
 the battle, and was slain at Lumphanan in 1056." 
 
 In the way of concise general comments on the 
 tragedy I know of nothing better than the follow- 
 ing passage from the introduction to Mr. George 
 Fletcher's discussion of it in his Studies of Shake- 
 speare (London, 1847), unfortunately long out of 
 print : — 
 
 "Macbeth seems inspired by the very genius of 
 the tempest. This drama shows us the gathering, 
 the discharge, and the dispelling of a domestic and 
 political storm, which takes its peculiar hue from 
 the individual character of the hero. It is not 
 
The Great Tragedies 407 
 
 in the spirit of mischief that animates the 'weird 
 sisters/ nor in the passionate and strong-willed 
 ambition of Lady Macbeth, that we find the main- 
 spring of this tragedy, but in the disproportioned 
 though poetically tempered soul of Macbeth him- 
 self. A character like this, of extreme selfishness, 
 with a most irritable fancy, must produce, even in 
 ordinary circumstances, an excess of morbid appre- 
 hensiveness; which, however, as we see in him, is 
 not inconsistent with the greatest physical courage, 
 but generates of necessity the most entire moral 
 cowardice. When, therefore, a man like this, ill 
 enough qualified even for the honest and straight- 
 forward transactions of life, has brought himself to 
 snatch at an ambitious object by the commission of 
 one great sanguinary crime, the new and false posi- 
 tion in which he finds himself by his very success 
 will but startle and exasperate him to escape, as 
 Macbeth says, from 'horrible imaginings' by the 
 perpetration of greater and greater actual horrors, 
 till inevitable destruction comes upon him amidst 
 universal execration. Such, briefly, are the story 
 and the moral of Macbeth. The passionate ambi- 
 tion and indomitable will of his lady, though agents 
 indispensable to urge such a man to the one deci- 
 sive act which is to compromise him in his own 
 opinion and that of the world, are by no means 
 primary springs of the dramatic action. Nor do 
 the 'weird sisters' themselves do more than aid 
 •collaterally in impelling a man, the inherent evil of 
 
4o8 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 whose nature and purpose has predisposed him to 
 take their equivocal suggestions in the most mis- 
 chievous sense. And, finally, the very thunder- 
 cloud which, from the beginning almost to the 
 ending, wraps this fearful tragedy in physical 
 darkness and lurid glare, does but reflect and har- 
 monize with the moral blackness of the piece." 
 
 King Lear was first published in quarto form in 
 1608, with the following title-page: — 
 
 "M. William Shak-speare: His True Chronicle, 
 Historie of the life and death of King Lear and 
 his three Daughters. With the vnfortunate life of 
 Edgar, sonne and heire to the Earle of Gloster, 
 and his sullen and assumed humor of Tom of Bed- 
 lam : As it was played before the Kings Maiestie 
 at Whitehall vpon S. Stephans night in Christmas 
 Hollidayes. By his Maiesties seruants playing 
 vsually at the Gloabe on the Bancke-side. Lon- 
 don, Printed for Nathaniel Butter, and are to be 
 sold at his shop in Pauls Church-yard at the signe 
 of the Pide Bull neere St. Austins Gate. 1608." 
 
 A second quarto edition was issued by the same 
 publisher in the same year, the title-page of which 
 is similar, except that it omits " and are to be sold 
 ... St. Austins Gate," 
 
 The text of the folio of 1623 is generally regarded 
 as better than that of the quartos, and appears to 
 have been printed from an independent manuscript. 
 Each text, however, is valuable as supplying the 
 deficiencies of the other. The quartos, according 
 
The Great Tragedies 409 
 
 to Furness, contain about two hundred and twenty- 
 lines that are not in the folios, and the folios fifty 
 lines that are not in the quartos. One entire scene 
 (iv. 3) is omitted in the folios. This discrepancy 
 in the texts has been the subject of much investiga- 
 tion and discussion ; and the critics differ widely in 
 their explanations of it. 
 
 The date of the play cannot be earlier than 1603 
 nor later than 1606. The former limit is fixed by 
 the publication of Dr. Harsnet's Declaration of 
 Popish Impostures, from which Shakespeare got 
 the names of some of the devils mentioned by 
 Edgar in iii. 4 ; and the latter by the entry of the 
 play in the Stationers' Eegisters, dated November 
 26, 1607, which states that it was performed "be- 
 fore the kinges maiestie at Whitehall vppon Sainct 
 Stephens night at Christmas Last," that is, upon 
 the 26th of December, 1606. 
 
 The story of King Lear and his three daughters 
 is one of the oldest in English literature. It is 
 told by Geoffrey of Monmouth in his Historia 
 Britonum, by Layamon in his Brut, by Eobert of 
 Gloucester, by Fabyan in his Chronicle, by Spenser 
 in the Faerie Queene, by Holinshed in his Chronicle, 
 by Camden in his Bemaines, in the Mirrour for 
 Magistrates, in Warner's Albions England, and else- 
 where in prose and verse. It had also been drama- 
 tized in the Chronicle History of King Leir, which 
 is probably the same play that was entered in the 
 Stationers' Registers in 1594, and that was reprinted 
 
41 o Life of Shakespeare 
 
 in 1605 — possibly on account of the success of 
 Shakespeare's iear, then just brought out. The 
 author of this old play probably took the story 
 from Holinshed, and Shakespeare drew either from 
 the same source or from the old play. The portion 
 of the plot in which Gloster figures was derived 
 from Sir Philip Sidney's Arcadia. But the poet's 
 real debt to his predecessors is so insignificant that 
 it is scarce worth tracing or recording. As Furness 
 well says, "the distance is always immeasurable 
 between the hint and the fulfilment j what to our 
 purblind eyes is a bare, naked rock, becomes, when 
 gilded by Shakespeare's heavenly alchemy, encrusted 
 thick all over with jewels. When, after reading 
 one of his tragedies, we turn to what we are 
 pleased to call the ' original of his plot,' I am re- 
 minded of those glittering gems, of which Heine 
 speaks, that we see at night in lovely gardens, and 
 think must have been left there by kings' children 
 at play; but when we look for these jewels by day 
 we see only wretched little worms which crawl pain- 
 fully away, and which the foot forbears to crush only 
 out of strange pity." 
 
 The old play of King Leir is not so poor a thing 
 as some of the critics have represented. Though 
 almost infinitely below Shakespeare's tragedy, it 
 has some features that place it above the average 
 of contemporary dramatic productions. Campbell 
 the poet, who was an excellent critic, calls it " simple 
 and touching." He adds: "There is one scene in 
 
The Great Tragedies 411 
 
 it, the meeting of Cordelia with her father in a 
 lonely forest, which, with Shakespeare's Lear in my 
 heart, I could scarcely read with dry eyes." Never- 
 theless, as Campbell says, Shakespeare " has subli- 
 mated the old tragedy into a new one by an entire 
 originality in the spiritual portraiture of its per- 
 sonages. . . . Wherever Shakespeare works on old 
 materials, you will find him, not wiping dusted 
 gold, but extracting gold from dust, where none but 
 himself could have made the golden extraction." 
 
 One scene in the old play reminds me of Long- 
 fellow's Miles Standish, and Priscilla's " Why don't 
 you speak for yourself, John ? " The King of France 
 and one of his nobles, disguised as pilgrims, fall in 
 with Cordelia after her father has cast her off. 
 They tell her that the King, whom she has not 
 seen, is a suitor for her hand. But Cordelia says 
 that she will not have him, adding with character- 
 istic frankness : — 
 
 " Then be advised, palmer, what to do ; 
 Cease for thy king, seek for thyself to woo. 
 
 King. Your birth's too high for any but a king. 
 
 Cordelia. My mind is low enough to love a palmer." 
 
 The King soon reveals himself, and Cordelia gets a 
 royal husband after all. 
 
 If Lear was a historical character, he is supposed 
 to have lived in the eighth century, and that may 
 well be the time of the dramatic action. Shake- 
 speare appears to have purposely taken us back 
 
412 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 into heathen and barbarous times. The whole at- 
 mosphere is pagan. There is not a single deliber- 
 ate reference to Christianity or its institutions. 
 Occasionally, as in the Boman plays, we meet with 
 a careless or accidental allusion to something asso- 
 ciated with Christian times — like the mention of a 
 " godson " — but this is simply an illustration of 
 the poet's unscholarly habits, which often lead him 
 into anachronisms. They do not make the play 
 Christian any more than the allusion to "holy 
 churchyards" in Coriolanus or to nunneries in the 
 Midsummer-NigM s Dream. Lear himself is a bar- 
 barian monarch ; Goneril, Eegan, and Edmund are 
 savages. The plucking out of Gloster's eyes is a 
 piece of savagery in keeping with the times. Even 
 the better characters, like Kent, have a certain un- 
 civilized impetuosity about them. The gods of the 
 play are heathen gods. Astrology, though Edmund 
 sneers at it, being an atheist, is a part of the gen- 
 eral faith. As Kent says, 
 
 "It is the stars, 
 The stars above us, govern our conditions." 
 
 Lear swears by — 
 
 " the sacred radiance of the sun, 
 The mysteries of Hecate and the night. 
 By all the operations of the orbs. 
 From whom we do exist and cease to be." 
 
 It is also the Celtic race that we have to deal 
 with, not the Saxon — a race " highly inflammable. 
 
The Great Tragedies 413 
 
 headstrong, flushed with sudden angers, and break- 
 ing out into wild violences, but also, in its better 
 children at least, of a deep tenderness and sincerity ; 
 in short, a highly emotional race, quickly stirred to 
 good and to evil ; swift to love, swift to hate ; bless- 
 ing and cursing with the same breath ; with eyes, 
 now full of a gentle solicitude and regard, now 
 flashing into an intolerable frenzy of detestation ; a 
 blind, hysterical race, if not wisely counselled and 
 j udiciously led ; but under good auspices springing 
 forward with a splendid vivacity to the highest 
 prizes of glory and honour." Lear himself is the 
 very type of this race ; so is Kent ; so is Corn- 
 wall : — 
 
 " You know the fiery quality of the duke, 
 How unremovable and fixed he is 
 In his own course." 
 
 And in Cordelia we see the same Celtic impulsive- 
 ness. She cannot control the indignation kindled 
 in her soul by the false protestations of her sisters. 
 But to presume to comment upon Lear seems 
 little short of profanity. One cannot but agree 
 with Hazlitt, who says, in his Characters of Shake- 
 speare's Plays : " We wish that we could pass this 
 play over and say nothing about it. All that we 
 can say must fall far short of the subject, or even 
 of what we ourselves conceive of it. To attempt to 
 give a description of the play itself, or of its effect 
 upon the mind, is mere impertinence ; yet we must 
 
414 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 say something. It is, then, the best of all Shake- 
 speare's plays, for it is the one in which he was 
 the most in earnest. He was here fairly caught in 
 the web of his own imagination. The passion which 
 he has taken as his subject is that which strikes its 
 root deepest into the human heart, of which the 
 bond is the hardest to be unloosed, and the cancel- 
 ling and tearing to pieces of which gives the great- 
 est revulsion to the frame. This depth of nature, 
 this force of passion, this tug and war of the ele- 
 ments of our being, this firm faith in filial piety, and 
 the giddy anarchy and whirling tumult of the 
 thoughts at finding the prop failing it; the contrast 
 between the fixed, immovable basis of natural affec- 
 tion and the rapid, irregular starts of imagination, 
 suddenly wrenched from all its accustomed holds 
 and resting-places in the soul — this is what Shake- 
 speare has given, and what nobody else but he could 
 give." 
 
 Coleridge remarks : " In the Shakespearian drama 
 there is a vitality which grows and evolves itself 
 from within, a key-note which guides and controls 
 the harmonies throughout. What is Lear? It is 
 storm and tempest — the thunder at first grumbling 
 in the far horizon, then gathering around us, and 
 at length bursting in fury over our heads — suc- 
 ceeded by a breaking of the clouds for a while, a 
 last flash of lightning, the closing-in of night, and 
 the single hope of darkness." 
 
 Antony and Cleopatra, first printed in the folio 
 
The Great Tragedies 415 
 
 of 1623, belongs to this same period, having been 
 written probably in 1607 or early in 1608. There 
 can be little doubt that it is the Anthony and Cleo- 
 patra entered on the Stationers' Registers, May 
 20th, 1608, by Edward Blount, one of the publishers 
 of the folio. As no edition was brought out, it was 
 re-entered by Blount as one of the plays in the 
 folio " not formerly entered to other men." 
 
 For this, as for the other Koman plays, the poet 
 drew his materials from Sir Thomas North's trans- 
 lation of Amy of s Plutarch, which he followed very 
 closely. To earlier plays on the same subject 
 (Daniel's Cleopatra, the Countess of Pembroke's 
 Tragedie of Antonie, etc.) he evidently owed noth- 
 ing. 
 
 Coleridge remarks : " The highest praise, or rather 
 form of praise, of this play, which I can offer in 
 my own mind, is the doubt which the perusal al- 
 ways occasions in me, whether the Antony and Cleo- 
 patra is not, in all exhibitions of a giant power in 
 its strength and vigour of maturity, a formidable 
 rival of Macbeth, Lear, Hamlet, and Othello. Feli- 
 citer andax is the motto for its style comparatively 
 with that of Shakspeare's other works, even as it is 
 the general motto of all his works compared with 
 those of other poets. . . . There is not one in which 
 he has followed history so minutely, and yet there 
 are few in which he impresses the notion of angelic 
 strength so much — perhaps none in which he im- 
 presses it more strongly. This is greatly owing to 
 
41 6 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 the manner in which the fiery force is sustained 
 throughout, and to the numerous momentary flashes 
 of nature counteracting the historic abstraction. As 
 a wonderful specimen of the way in which Shak- 
 speare lives up to the very end of this play, read 
 the last part of the concluding scene. And if you 
 would feel the judgment as well as the genius of 
 Shakspeare in your heart's core, compare this aston- 
 ishing drama with Dryden's All for LoveP 
 
 Compare what Campbell the poet says of the 
 play, and particularly the comparison with Dry- 
 den: — 
 
 " In Cleopatra, we can discern nothing materially 
 different from the vouched historical sorceress ; she 
 nevertheless has a more vivid meteoric and versatile 
 play of enchantment in Shakespeare's likeness of 
 her than in a dozen of other poetical copies in 
 which the artists took much greater liberties with 
 historical truth : he paints her as if the gypsy her- 
 self had cast her spell over him, and given her own 
 witchcraft to his pencil. At the same time, play- 
 fully interesting to our fancy as he makes this en- 
 chantress, he keeps us far from a vicious sympathy. 
 The asp at her bosom, that lulls its nurse asleep, 
 has no poison for our morality. A single glance at 
 the devoted and dignified Octavia recalls our hom- 
 age to virtue ; but with delicate skill he withholds 
 the purer woman from prominent contact with the 
 wanton queen, and does not, like Dryden, bring the 
 two to a scolding-match. The latter poet's All for 
 
The Great Tragedies 417 
 
 Love was regarded by himself as his masterpiece, 
 and is by no means devoid of merit ; but so inferior 
 is it to the prior drama as to make it disgraceful to 
 British taste for one hundred years that the former 
 absolutely banished the latter from the stage. . . . 
 Dryden's Mark Antony is a weak voluptuary from 
 first to last. JSTot a sentence of manly virtue is ever 
 uttered by him that seems to come from himself; 
 and whenever he expresses a moral feeling, it ap- 
 pears not to have grown up in his own nature, but 
 to have been planted there by his friend Ventidius, 
 like a flower in a child's garden, only to wither and 
 take no root. Shakespeare's Antony is a very dif- 
 ferent being. ... A queen, a siren, a Shakespeare's 
 ■Cleopatra alone could have entangled Mark Antony, 
 while an ordinary wanton could have ensnared 
 Dryden's hero." 
 
 Mrs. Jameson says of Cleopatra : " She has fur- 
 nished the subject of two Latin, sixteen French, six 
 English, and at least four Italian tragedies; yet 
 Shakspeare alone has availed himself of all the in- 
 terest of the story, without falsifying the character. 
 He alone has dared to exhibit the Egyptian queen 
 with all her greatness and all her littleness — all 
 her frailties of temper — all her paltry arts and 
 dissolute passions — yet preserved the dramatic 
 propriety and poetical colouring of the character, 
 and awakened our pity for fallen grandeur, without 
 once beguiling us into sympathy with guilt and 
 error." 
 
41 8 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Coriolanus probably followed hard upon Antony 
 and Cleopatra, the date generally agreed upon by 
 the critics being 1607 or 1608, though some make it 
 1609 or 1610. It was first printed in 1623, being 
 one of the sixteen plays in the folio recorded as not 
 previously " entered " to other publishers. As al- 
 ready stated, the historical materials were derived 
 from North's Plutarch ; and, as in the other Roman 
 plays, Shakespeare followed his authority closely, 
 often adopting even its phraseology. Some expres- 
 sions in the fable told by Menenius (i. 1. 89 fol.) 
 may have been suggested by the version in Cam- 
 den's Remains (1605) ; but if Shakespeare was 
 really indebted to that author, the obligation was at 
 best but a trifling one. 
 
 Of the period in Shakespeare's career as a dram- 
 atist which has been considered in the present 
 chapter, Baynes remarks: "During this period 
 Shakespeare gained a disturbing insight into the 
 deeper evils of the world, arising from the darker 
 passions, such as treachery and revenge. But it is 
 also ' clear that, with the larger vision of a noble, 
 well-poised nature, he at the same time gained a 
 fuller perception of the deeper springs of goodness 
 in human nature, of the great virtues of invincible 
 fidelity and unwearied love; and he evidently re- 
 ceived not only consolation and calm but new 
 stimulus and power from the fuller realisation of 
 these virtues. The typical plays of this period 
 thus embody Shakespeare's ripest experience of the 
 
The Great Tragedies 419 
 
 great issues of life. In the four grand tragedies 
 the central problem is a profoundly moral one. It 
 is the supreme internal conflict of good and evil 
 amongst the central forces and higher elements of 
 human nature, as appealed to and developed by sud- 
 den and powerful temptation, smitten by accumu- 
 lated wrongs, or plunged in overwhelming calamities. 
 As the result, we learn that there is something 
 infinitely more precious in life than social ease or 
 worldly success — nobleness of soul, fidelity to truth 
 and honour, human love and loyalty, strength and 
 tenderness, and trust to the very end." 
 
CHAPTEE XVII. 
 
 THE KOMANCES 
 
 The transition from the tragedies to tlie plays 
 tliat follow is most remarkable. From the gloom 
 and horror of Othello, Macbeth, and Lear, the poet 
 emerges into the genial sunshine that irradiates the 
 scenes of Cymheline, The Tempest, and The Winter^s 
 Tale. Inexorable retribution for sin is no longer 
 the keynote of his dramas, but charity, forgiveness, 
 reconciliation, benignity almost divine. Dowden 
 aptly calls these last plays "Eomances." "In all 
 there is a beautiful romantic background of sea or 
 mountain. The dramas have a grave beauty, a sweet 
 serenity, which seem to render the name ' comedies ' 
 inappropriate ; we may smile tenderly, but we never 
 laugh loudly, as we read them." 
 
 Cymheline was first printed in 1623, and is the 
 last play in the folio. The earliest allusion to it 
 that has been discovered is in Dr. Forman's Diary, 
 which belongs to the year 1610 and 1611. His 
 sketch of the plot (not dated) is as follows : — 
 
 " Remember also the storri of Cymbalin king of Eng- 
 land, in Lucius tyme, howe Lucius Cam from Octavus 
 Cesar for Tribut, and being denied, after sent Lucius with 
 
 420 
 
The Romances 421 
 
 a greate Arme of Souldiars who landed at milford haven, 
 and AfEter wer vanquished by Cimbalin, and Lucius taken 
 prisoner, and all by means of 3 outlawes, of the which 2 
 of them were the sonns of Cimbalim, stolen from him 
 when they but 2 yers old by an old man whom Cymbalin 
 banished, and he kept them as his own sonns 20 yers 
 with him in A cave. And howe [one] of them slewe 
 Clotan, that was the quens sonn, goinge To milford 
 haven to sek the love of Innogen the kinges daughter, 
 whom he had banished also for lovinge his daughter, 
 and howe the Italian that cam from her love conveied 
 him selfe into A Cheste, and said yt was a chest of plate 
 sent from her love and others, to be presented to the 
 kinge. And in the depest of the night, she being aslepe, 
 he opened the cheste and cam forth of yt. And vewed 
 her in her bed, and the markes of her body, and toke 
 a-wai her braslet, and after Accused her of adultery to 
 her love, etc. And in thend howe he came with the 
 Komains into England and was taken prisoner, and after 
 Reveled to Innogen who had turned her self into mans 
 apparrell and fled to mete her love at milford haven, and 
 chanchsed to fall on the Cave in the wodes wher her 2 
 brothers were, and howe by eating a sleping Dram they 
 thought she had bin deed, and laid her in the wodes, and 
 the body of cloten by her in her loves apparrell that he 
 left behind him, and howe she was found by lucius, etc." 
 
 The play was probably a new one when Forman 
 saw it in 1610 or 1611. The critics generally date 
 it in 1609 or 1610. The internal evidence of style 
 and metre indicates that it was one of the latest of 
 the plays. 
 
422 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Shakespeare took the names of Cymbeline and his 
 two sons from Holinshed, together with a few his- 
 torical facts concerning the king ; but the story of 
 the stealing of the princes and their life in the 
 wilderness appears to be his own. 
 
 The story of Imogen, which is so admirably inter- 
 woven with that of the sons of Cymbeline, was 
 taken, directly or indirectly, from the Decamerone 
 of Boccaccio, in which it forms the ninth novel of 
 the second day. No English translation of it is 
 known to have been made in Shakespeare's time. A 
 version appeared in a tract entitled Westward for 
 Smelts, which was published in 1620. Malone speaks 
 of an edition of 1603 ; but this is probably an error, 
 as the book was not entered upon the Stationers' 
 Eegisters until 1619-20. This translation, more- 
 over, lacks some important details which the play 
 has in common with the Italian original. 
 
 Dr. Johnson says of Cymbeline : " This play has 
 many just sentiments, some natural dialogues, and 
 some pleasing scenes, but they are obtained at the 
 expense of much incongruity. To remark the folly 
 of the fiction, the absurdity of the conduct, the con- 
 fusion of the names and manners of different times, 
 and the impossibility of the events in any system 
 of life, were to waste criticism upon unresisting 
 imbecility, upon faults too evident for detection, 
 and too gross for aggravation." 
 
 It was hardly necessary for Drake, in his Shak- 
 speare and his Times (1817), to express astonishment 
 
The Romances 423 
 
 at this " sweeping condemnation," and to add : " Of 
 the enormous injustice of this sentence nearly every 
 page of Cymheline will, to a reader of any taste or 
 discrimination, bring the most decisive evidence. 
 . . . Imogen, the most lovely and perfect of Shak- 
 speare's female characters — the pattern of connu- 
 bial love and chastity, by the delicacy and propriety 
 of her sentiments, by her sensibility, tenderness, 
 and resignation, by her patient endurance of perse- 
 cution from the quarter where she had confidently 
 looked for Endearment and protection — irresistibl}' 
 seizes upon our affections. . . . When compared 
 with this fascinating portrait, the other personages 
 of the drama appear but in a secondary light. Yet 
 are they adequately brought out and skilfully di- 
 versified : the treacherous subtlety of lachimo ; the 
 sage experience of Belarius; the native nobleness 
 of heart and innate heroism of mind which burst 
 forth in the vigorous sketches of Guiderius and 
 Arviragus; the temerity, credulity, and penitence 
 of Posthumus; the uxorious weakness of Cymbe- 
 line; the hypocrisy of his Queen; and the comic 
 arrogance of Cloten, half fool and half knave, 
 produce a striking diversity of action and senti- 
 ment." 
 
 Malone decided that The Tempest was the last of 
 Shakespeare's plays, and several of the more recent 
 critics have agreed with him. Campbell, the poet, 
 in 1838, said that the play had "a sort of sacredness 
 as the last work of the mighty workman ; " and 
 
424 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Lowell thought that in it "the great enchanter" 
 was "bidding farewell to the scene of his tri- 
 umphs." It is probable, however, that The Wirv- 
 ter^s Tale followed rather than preceded The 
 Tempest, though both were quite certainly written 
 in 1610 or early in 1611, and both were first printed 
 in the folio of 1623. 
 
 The Tempest was acted before King James at 
 Whitehall on the 1st of Hovember, 1611, the forged 
 record in the Accounts of the Revels at Court being 
 founded upon correct information. 
 
 In 1610 Silvester Jourdan published a pamphlet 
 entitled "A Discovery of the Barmudas, otherwise 
 called the He of Divels: by Sir Thomas Gates, 
 Sir George Sommers, and Captayne Newport, with 
 divers others. London, 1610." This pamphlet tells 
 of the tempest which scattered the fleet commanded 
 by Somers and Gates, and the happy discovery, by 
 some of the shipwrecked, of land which proved to 
 be the Bermudas. It alludes to the general belief 
 that these islands "were never inhabited by any 
 Christian or heathen people," being " reputed a 
 most prodigious and enchanted place," adding that, 
 nevertheless, those who were cast away upon them, 
 and lived there nine months, found the air temper- 
 ate and the country " abundantly fruitful of all fit 
 necessaries for the sustentation and preservation of 
 man's life." Prospero's command to Ariel to "fetch 
 dew from the still-vexed Bermoothes" proves that 
 his island was not one of the Bermudas, but the 
 
The Romances 425 
 
 reference to them appears to have been suggested 
 by Jourdan's narrative. 
 
 The plot of The Tempest, though it has not been 
 traced to any foreign source, may have been bor- 
 rowed from some old Italian or Spanish novel. 
 Collins the poet told Thomas Warton that he had 
 seen such a novel, with the title of Aurelio and Isa- 
 bella, and that it was " printed in Italian, Spanish, 
 French, and English, in 1588 ; " and Boswell says 
 that a friend of his assured him that, some years 
 before, he had "actually perused an Italian novel 
 which answered to CoUins's description." But Col- 
 lins was insane when he made the statement, and 
 Boswell' s friend may have been mistaken ; at any 
 rate, the romance has not yet been found. There is 
 an early German play (published in 1618) called 
 Die Schone Sidea, by Jacob Ayrer, a notary of 
 Nuremberg, the plot of which has been imagined 
 by several critics to be like that of The Tempest, 
 and this has led them to suppose that the two were 
 drawn from the same source; but the resemblance 
 is far too slight to justify the conclusion. 
 
 As Ayrer died in 1605, he cannot have borrowed 
 from Shakespeare ; and it is highly improbable that 
 Shakespeare could have been acquainted with the 
 German play. For a full discussion of the matter, 
 together with a complete translation of Die Schone 
 Sidea, see Furness's "New Variorum" ed. of The 
 Tempest, pp. 324-343. 
 
 The Tempest is one of the shortest of the plays. 
 
426 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 It contains but 2065 lines (" Globe " reckoning), a 
 trifle more than half as many as Hamlet, which, has 
 3930 lines. The only late play about as short is 
 Macbeth (2108 lines), and the only shorter one is 
 the very early Comedy of Errors (1778 lines). Some 
 critics have thought that a part of The Tempest 
 may have been lost, but its brevity appears to be 
 chiefly due to the simplicity of the plot. It is diffi- 
 cult to see where additional scenes or parts of scenes 
 could be appropriately introduced. Some scenes, in- 
 deed (ii. 1, for instance), seem to be somewhat " spun 
 out," so to speak, that the play may be long enough 
 for the stage ; and the classical interlude may have 
 been inserted for the same reason. The closing 
 scene does not appear to be hastily finished, as in 
 some of the plays, but is worked out with ample 
 elaboration for theatrical effect. The play could 
 hardly be lengthened unless by superfluous "pad- 
 ding." 
 
 The Tempest is also remarkable for being con- 
 structed with strict regard .to the " unities " of place 
 and time. The scene is one small island, and the 
 whole period of the action does not much exceed 
 three hours, as Shakespeare has indicated by three 
 distinct references to the time in the last scene. 
 The only other play in which these unities are 
 observed is The Comedy of Errors, where the scene 
 is confined to Ephesus, and the time is limited to 
 the forenoon and afternoon of a single day. 
 
 In The Tempest the magic power of the poet is 
 
The Romances 427 
 
 strikingly shown in the variety of character and 
 incident presented within these narrow limits of 
 space and time ; and this, too, without any violation 
 of dramatic propriety or probability — indeed, with 
 such extreme simplicity of plot that, when our 
 attention is called to it, we are surprised to see how 
 slight the story is, and how clearly its course is 
 foreshadowed from almost the beginning. 
 
 Shakespeare has managed the supernatural part 
 of the play in strict accordance with the theories of 
 that day concerning magic, while at the same time 
 he has avoided everything that was ridiculous or 
 revolting in the popular belief. He thus exercises, 
 as it were, a magic power over the vulgar magic, 
 lifting it from prose into poetry ; and while doing 
 this he has contrived to make it so entirely con- 
 sistent with what we can imagine to be possible to 
 human science and skill that it seems as real as 
 it is marvellous. It is at once supernatural and 
 natural. It is the utmost power of the magic art, 
 and yet it all goes on with no more jar to our 
 credulity than the ordinary sequence of events in 
 our everyday life. 
 
 Some of the critics, particularly those who take 
 The Tempest to be the last of the plays, believe that 
 Shakespeare intended to identify himself with Pros- 
 per©, and in making him abjure his "rough magic" 
 to indicate the close of his own career as a drama- 
 tist. But though Prospero seems more like the 
 impersonation of Shakespeare than any other of his 
 
428 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 characters, I cannot believe that he had any thought 
 of self-portraiture in the delineation, or that the 
 princely magician in breaking his staff and drown- 
 ing his book represents the poet hinting at a pur- 
 pose of ceasing to write. If the play was written in 
 1611, Shakespeare was then only forty-seven years 
 old. He was in the maturity of his powers, and 
 more favourably situated for exercising them in his 
 chosen field of authorship than ever before. If he 
 had not then left London for Stratford, he was on 
 the point of escaping from the cares and distractions 
 of his life in the metropolis, and retiring with a 
 well-earned competency to the loved home of his 
 youth. He seems to have been disposed to rest for 
 a time after the labours and anxieties of the preced- 
 ing twenty-five years, and apparently wrote no 
 plays after returning to Stratford ; but had he not 
 been suddenly cut off at the very threshold of his 
 fifty -third year, I believe we should have found that 
 his magic staff was not broken nor the list of his 
 enchanted creations completed. 
 
 It may be added that, although Prospero's refer- 
 ences to giving up magic may lend a certain support 
 to this notion that he speaks for Shakespeare, his 
 closing speeches are not in keeping with that theory. 
 If he is not older than the poet was when he wrote 
 the play, his experiences have been more painful 
 and more exhausting. Now that the welfare of his 
 daughter is assured by her prospective union with 
 Ferdinand, and the wrongs he had suffered are all 
 
The Romances 429 
 
 set right, he feels that the work of his life is 
 accomplished ; and he says : — 
 
 " In the morn 
 I '11 bring you to your ship, and so to Naples, 
 Where I have hope to see the nuptial 
 Of these our dear-beloved solemnized ; 
 And thence retire me to my Milan, where 
 Every third thought shall be my grave." 
 
 We cannot imagine Shakespeare saying this when 
 he returned to Stratford to settle down at New 
 Place. 
 
 The Winter^ s Tale was apparently first printed in 
 the folio of 1623, where it is the last of the "Com- 
 edies," as The Tempest is the first. 
 
 Malone found a memorandum in the Office Book 
 of Sir Henry Herbert, the Master of the Eevels, 
 which he gives as follows : — 
 
 "For the king's players. An olde playe called 
 Winter's Tale, formerly allowed of by Sir George 
 Bucke, and likewyse by mee on Mr. Hemmings his 
 worde that there was nothing profane added or re- 
 formed, thogh the allowed booke was missinge, and 
 therefore I returned it without a fee, this 19 of 
 August, 1623." 
 
 Malone also discovered that Sir George Buck did 
 not obtain full possession of his ofiice as Master of 
 the Eevels until August, 1610; and he therefore 
 conjectured that The Winter^ Tale "was originally 
 licensed in the latter part of that year or the begin- 
 
43 o Life of Shakespeare 
 
 ning of tlie next." This date is confirmed by the 
 Diary of Doctor Forman, who writes about the 
 play thns : — 
 
 " In the Winter's Talle at the Glob, 1611, the 15 of 
 Maye, Wednesday, — observe ther howe Lyontes, the 
 Kinge of Cicillia, was overcom with jelosy of his wife 
 with the Kinge of Bohemia, his frind, that came to see 
 him ; and howe he contrived his death, and wold have 
 had his cnpberer to have poisoned, who gave the King of 
 Bohemia warning therof and fled with him to Bohemia. 
 Remember also howe he sent to the orakell of Appolio, 
 and the aunswer of Apollo that she was giltles, and 
 that the king was jelouse, &c. ; and howe, except the 
 child was found againe that was loste, the kinge shuld 
 die without yssue, — for the child was caried into Bohe- 
 mia, and there laid in a forrest, and brought up by a 
 sheppard, and the Kinge of Bohemia his sonn maried 
 that wentch ; and howe they fled into Cicillia to Leontes, 
 and the sheppard, having showed the letter of the noble- 
 man by whom Leontes sent a . . . was that child, and 
 the Jewells found about her, she was knowen to be 
 Leontes' daughter and was then 16 yers old. Remember 
 also the rog that cam in all tottered like Coll Pipci ; and 
 howe he feyned him sicke, and to have bin robbed of 
 all that he had ; and howe he cosoned the por man of all 
 his money, and after cam to the shep-sher with a pedler's 
 packe, and ther cosoned them again of all their money ; 
 and howe he changed apparrell with the Kinge of 
 Bohemia his sonn; and then howe he turned courtiar, 
 &c. Beware of trustinge feined beggars or fawninge 
 fellouse." 
 
The Romances 431 
 
 The play was also performed at Whitehall on the 
 5th of November the same year (1611). The entry 
 in the Accounts of the Bevels, like similar ones con- 
 cerning The Tempest, The Merchant of Venice and 
 other plays of Shakespeare, is a forgery, but has 
 been shown to be founded on fact. 
 
 The story of The Winter's Tale is taken from 
 Robert Greene's History of Dorastus and Fawnia, 
 which appeared first in 1588, under the title of 
 Pandosto, and passed through several editions. 
 Shakespeare follows the novel in most particulars, 
 but varies from it in a few of some importance. 
 For instance, in the story as told by Greene, Bel- 
 laria (Hermione) dies upon hearing of the loss of 
 her son ; and Pandosto (Leontes) falls in love with 
 his own daughter, and is finally seized with a kind 
 of melancholy or madness, in which he kills himself. 
 The poet appears to have changed the denouement 
 because he was writing a comedy, not a tragedy. 
 
 It is hardly necessary to add that the poet's in- 
 debtedness to the novelist, as in so many other cases 
 of the kind, is really insignificant. " Whatever the 
 merits of Greene's work — and it is a good tale of 
 its sort and its time, though clumsily and pedant- 
 ically told — they are altogether different in kind 
 (we will not consider the question of degree) from 
 the merits of Shakespeare. In characterization of 
 personages the tale is notably coarse and common- 
 place, in thought arid and barren, and in language 
 alternately meagre and inflated ; whereas there are 
 
432 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 few more remarkable creations in all literature than 
 Hermione, Perdita, Autolycus, Paulina, not to notice 
 minor characters ; and its teeming wealth of wis- 
 dom, and the daring and dainty beauty of its 
 poetry, give the play a high place in the second 
 rank of Shakespeare's works. Briefly, it is the old 
 story over again : the dry stick that seems to bloom 
 and blossom is but hidden by the leafy luxuriance 
 and floral splendour of the plant that has been 
 trained upon it." 
 
 Every reader of the play will heartily endorse 
 what Furnivall says of it : — 
 
 " Though Mamillius tells us that ' a sad tale's 
 best for winter,' yet, notwithstanding all Hermione's 
 suffering, and the death of her gallant boy, who 
 used to frighten her with goblin stories, we cannot 
 call Shakspere's Winter's Tale sad. It is so fra- 
 grant with Perdita and her primroses and violets, 
 so happy in the reunion and reconciliation of her 
 and her father and mother, so bright with the sun- 
 shine of her and Florizel's young love, and the 
 merry roguery of that scamp Autolycus, that none 
 of us can think of The Winter's Tale as a ' sad tale ' 
 or play. 
 
 " The last complete play of Shakspere's as it is, the 
 golden glow of the sunset of his genius is over it, 
 the sweet country air all through it ; and of few, if 
 any, of his plays is there a pleasanter picture in the 
 memory than of Winter's Tale. As long as men can 
 think, shall Perdita brighten and sweeten, Hermione 
 
The Romances 433 
 
 ennoble, men's minds and lives. How happily, too, 
 it brings Shakspere before us, mixing with his Strat- 
 ford neighbours at their sheep-shearing and country 
 sports, enjoying the vagabond pedlar's gammon and 
 talk, delighting in the sweet Warwickshire maidens, 
 and buying them ' fairings,' telling goblin stories to 
 the boys, ' There was a man dwelt by a churchyard,' 
 — opening his heart afresh to all the innocent mirth, 
 and the beauty of nature around him. . . . Its pur- 
 pose, its lesson, are to teach forgiveness of wrongs, 
 not vengeance for them ; to give the sinner time to 
 repent and amend, not to cut him off in his sin; 
 to frustrate the crimes he has purposed. And as in 
 Cymbeline, father and injured daughter meet again, 
 she forgiving her wrongs; as there, too, friends 
 meet again, the inj ured friend forgiving his wrongs, 
 so here do lost daughter, injured daughter, and 
 inj uring father meet, he being forgiven ; so inj ured 
 friend forgiving meets injuring friend forgiven; 
 while above all rises the figure of the noble, long- 
 suffering wife Hermione, forgiving the base though 
 now repentant husband who had so cruelly injured 
 her. . . . Hermione is, I suppose, the most mag- 
 nanimous and noble of Shakspere's women ; without 
 a fault, she suffers, and for sixteen years, as if for 
 the greatest fault. . . . Combined with this noble, 
 suffering figure of Hermione, and her long-sundered 
 married life, is the sweet picture of Perdita's and 
 Florizel's love and happy future. Shakspere shows 
 us more of Perdita than of Miranda ; and heavenly 
 
434 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 as the innorAce of Miranda was, we yet feel that 
 Perdita comes to us with a sweeter, more earth-like 
 charm, though not less endowed with all that is 
 pure and holy, than her sister of the imaginary- 
 Mediterranean isle. . . . Not only do we see Shak- 
 spere's freshness of spirit in his production of Per- 
 dita, but also in his creation of Autolycus. That, 
 at the close of his dramatic life, after all the 
 troubles he had passed through, Shakspere had yet 
 the youngness of heart to bubble out into this merry 
 rogue, the incarnation of fun and rascality, and let 
 him sail off successful and unharmed, is wonderful. 
 And that there is no diminution of his former comic 
 power is shown, too, in his Clown, who wants but 
 something to be a reasonable man." 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 PLATS OF MIXED OR DOUBTFUL AUTHORSHIP 
 
 It is now generally agreed that certain of the 
 plays included in the standard editions of Shake- 
 speare are not wholly his, but are partly the work 
 of other dramatists. The earliest plays of this 
 class, belonging to the period of his dramatic ap- 
 prenticeship, when he was employed by theatrical 
 managers to revise or touch up old pieces for a new 
 lease of life on the stage — Titus Andronicus and 
 the three Parts of Henry VI. — have been already 
 considered; as well as the somewhat later Taming 
 of the Shrew, in which he had a more important 
 share. To these are to be added three plays of the 
 last periods of his career — Timon of Athens, Per- 
 icles, and Henry VIII. — in all of which he certainly 
 had a considerable share, though the critics differ 
 more or less in their explanations of the divided 
 authorship. The Two Nolle Kinsmen is another 
 play which some critics believe to be partly Shake- 
 speare's, and which is included in several of the 
 more recent editions. 
 
 Timon of Athens was first printed in 1623, having 
 been entered upon the Stationers' Registers in 
 
436 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 November of that year, by the publishers of the 
 folio, araong the plays "not formerly entered to 
 other men." 
 
 The critics are almost unanimous in deciding that 
 the play is Shakespeare's only in part, but they do 
 not agree as to its probable history. Knight, the 
 Cambridge editors, and a few others believe that 
 the dramatist revamped an earlier play, parts of 
 which, for some reason or other, he retained with 
 slight alteration. On the other hand, the majority 
 of editors, including GoUancz and Herford, the 
 latest, regard it as an original work of Shake- 
 speare's, which he laid aside or left unfinished, and 
 which was completed by an inferior writer. There 
 are difficulties in either theory, but the latter is by 
 far the more probable. 
 
 There is little difficulty in separating Shake- 
 speare's part of Timon from that of the other writer, 
 and there would be less or none were it not that 
 in some scenes we have the work of the two hands 
 mixed, the finisher of the play having attempted to 
 rewrite portions of it, but blending more or less of 
 the original gold with his own baser metal. We 
 can see that the gold is there, but cannot separate 
 it from the alloy. Fleay has edited what he believes 
 to be Shakespeare's Timon for the New Shakspere 
 Society, and it may be found in their Transactions 
 for 1874. 
 
 The date of Shakespeare's part of the play can be 
 fixed only by the internal evidence of style, measure, 
 
Plays of Mixed or Doubtful Authorship 437 
 
 etc. This appears to put it not earlier than 1606, 
 nor later than 1608. The date of the completion of 
 the work cannot be fixed even approximately. 
 
 Shakespeare was acquainted with the story of 
 Timon through Paynter's Palace of Pleasure, from 
 which he had taken the plot of All 's Well, and 
 through a passage in Plutarch's Life of Antonius, 
 which he had used in Julius Ccesar and Antony and 
 Cleopatra. An earlier play on the same subject has 
 come down to our day in manuscript ; though in 
 the opinion of Dyce (who edited the piece for the 
 Shakespeare Society in 1842) this was never per- 
 formed in London, being intended solely for an 
 academic audience, and it is improbable that Shake- 
 speare ever saw it. The writer who completed the 
 play seems to have been acquainted with Lucian's 
 Dialogue on Timon, which had not then, so far as 
 we know, been translated into English ; but he may 
 have got this part of his material through some ver- 
 sion of the story (possibly a dramatized one) that 
 has been lost. Allusions to Timon are rather fre- 
 quent in writers of the time. Shakespeare himself 
 refers to " critic Timon " in Lovers Labour'' s Lost 
 (iv. 3. 170), one of his earliest productions. 
 
 Pericles, Prince of Tyre, was first published in 
 quarto in 1609, with the following title-page : — 
 
 " The Late And much admired Play called Per- 
 icles, Prince of Tyre ; with the true Eelation of the 
 whole Historic, aduentures, and fortunes of the said 
 Prince; as also, The no lesse strange and worthy 
 
43 8 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 accidents in the Birth and Life of his Daughter 
 Mariana, — as it hath been diners and sundry times 
 acted by his Maiesties Seruants, at the Globe on the 
 Banck-side. By William Shakespeare." 
 
 Other quartos were published in the same year, 
 and in 1611, 1619, 1630, and 1635. 
 
 The play was not included in either the first or 
 the second (1632) folio, but was reprinted, with six 
 plays wrongly attributed to Shakespeare, in the 
 third folio (1664) and the fourth (1685). The folio 
 text is from the quarto of 1635. 
 
 Eowe included Pericles in both his editions (1709 
 and 1714), but it was rejected by Pope and subse- 
 quent editors down to the time of Malone, who put 
 it in his Supplement to Steevens's edition of 1778, 
 and in his own edition of 1790. Steevens followed 
 his example in 1793, and has been followed by all 
 the recent editors except Keightley. 
 
 It is now generally agreed by the critics that the 
 first two acts of the play, together with the brothel 
 scenes in the fourth act, were written by some other 
 author than Shakespeare. " What remains is the 
 pure and charming romance of Marina, the sea-born 
 child of Pericles, her loss, and the recovery of both 
 child and mother by the afl&icted prince." Whether 
 the poet enlarged and reconstructed an earlier play, 
 or some other writer or writers filled out an un- 
 finished work of his, we cannot positively decide, 
 but the latter seems by far the more reasonable 
 hypothesis. 
 
Plays of Mixed or Doubtful Authorship 439 
 
 The date of the play in its present form is prob- 
 ably about 1607. It was first printed, as we have 
 seen, in 1609, but it was entered on the Stationers' 
 Registers on the 20th of May, 1608. If, as Fleay 
 tells us, the second scene of the third act is " x^al- 
 pably imitated in The Puritan (iv. 3)," which was 
 acted in 1606, the date of Pericles cannot be later 
 than that year. 
 
 The story upon which the play is founded is 
 given in Laurence Twine's Patterne of Paineful 
 Aduenters, first published in 1576, and in the tale of 
 Appolinus the Prince of Tyr, which forms a part 
 of Gower's Confessio Amantis. Twine's novel is 
 said to have been merely a reprint of the English 
 translation (printed in 1510) of the French version 
 of the story by Robert Copland. It was taken 
 originally from the Gesta Romanorum, but the nar- 
 rative there was only one of three Latin versions, 
 all of which appear to have been based on a Greek 
 tale of the fifth or sixth century of the Christian 
 era. Gower acknowledges his indebtedness to 
 
 " a cronique in dales gone, 
 The wich is cleped Panteon ; " 
 
 that is, the Latin Pantheon of Godfrey of Viterbo, 
 who wrote in the latter half of the 12th century. 
 
 In 1608 George Wilkins published a novel which 
 was avowedly based on the acted play. The title- 
 page was as follows : — 
 
 "The Painful Aduentures of Pericles Prince of 
 
440 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Tyre. Being The true History of the Play of Per^ 
 ides, as it was lately presented by the worthy and 
 ancient Poet lohn Gower." 
 
 We may fairly infer from the language of this 
 title-page that the play was then a comparatively 
 new one, and that the date given above (1607, or 
 possibly 1606) cannot be far astray. 
 
 During the seventeenth century there is abun- 
 dant contemporary evidence that Pericles was in- 
 deed, as its title-pages assert it to have been, a 
 "much-admired play." Ben Jonson growled at it 
 as " a ^ mouldy tale," made up of " scraps out of 
 every dish." But this was when, prematurely old, 
 poor, and mortified at public injustice, he poured 
 forth his "just indignation at the vulgar censure of 
 his play, by malicious spectators ; " and in doing so 
 he bears strong testimony that the public judgment 
 as to Pericles was the reverse of his own — that it 
 "kept up the play-club," and was the favourite 
 dramatic repast to the exclusion of his own " well- 
 ordered banquet," in what he denounced (in his Ode 
 to Himself) as " a loathsome age," when 
 
 " sweepings do as well 
 As the best-ordered meal ; 
 For who the relish of such guests would fit, 
 Needs set them but the alms-basket of wit." 
 
 Ben's frank and friendly admonitor, the moralist 
 Owen Peltham, replies by reminding him that there 
 
Plays of Mixed or Doubtful Authorship 441 
 
 were scenes and jokes in his own unfortunate play 
 (the New loin), that 
 
 " throw a stain 
 Through all the unlucky plot, and do displease 
 As deep as Pericles ; " 
 
 thus giving an additional testimony that the faults 
 of Pericles did not escape the critical eye, while 
 they pleased the many. Thus the play kept posses- 
 sion of the stage to the days of Addison, when 
 Pericles was one of the favourite parts of Betterton. 
 Dryden, who lived near enough to the author's time 
 to have learned the stage tradition from contem- 
 poraries, while he evidently perceived the imper- 
 fections of this piece, never doubted its authenticity, 
 and accounted for its inferiority to the greater 
 tragedies, by considering them the consequences of 
 the author's youthful inexperience (Prologue to 
 Davenant's Circe, 1675) : — 
 
 " Shakespeare's own muse her Pericles first bore ; 
 The Prince of Tyre was elder than the Moor : 
 'Tis miracle to see a first good play ; 
 All hawthorns do not bloom on Christmas day." 
 
 This was in 1675, and the play continued to be 
 regarded as Shakespeare's until 1709, when Eowe, 
 as already stated, included it in his edition. But, 
 instead of apparently regarding it as a youthful 
 production of the dramatist, as Dryden had done, 
 he said that " it is owned that some part of Pericles 
 
442 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 was written by him, particularly tlie last scene," 
 implying that the rest was by some inferior play- 
 wright. Pope, in his preface, said he had "no 
 doubt that these wretched plays, Pericles, Locrine, 
 Sir John Oldcastle, etc., etc., cannot be admitted as 
 his." His successors who excluded it did so with- 
 out comment, and until the time of Malone the 
 critics and writers upon the English drama treated 
 it only as a play once erroneously attributed to 
 Shakespeare. Malone declared that it was "the 
 entire work of Shakespeare, and one of his earliest 
 compositions." Steevens, on the other hand, said of 
 it : " The drama contains no discrimination of man- 
 ners (except in the comic dialogues), very few 
 traces of original thought, and is evidently desti- 
 tute of that intelligence and useful knowledge that 
 pervade even the meanest of Shakespeare's undis- 
 puted performances." After analyzing the plot 
 at some length, he concludes by expressing his 
 belief "that our great poet had no share in con- 
 structing it." This decision long remained un- 
 questioned. Hallam, indeed, thought that many 
 passages in it were more in Shakespeare's man- 
 ner than that of any contemporary writer, but that 
 it was " full of evident marks of an inferior hand." 
 €rifford rejected it and called it "the worthless 
 Pericles P 
 
 Godwin, in his Life of Chaucer (1803), incident- 
 ally referring to Pericles, terms it "a beautiful 
 drama, which in sweetness of manner, delicacy of 
 
Plays of Mixed or Doubtful Authorship 443 
 
 description, truth of feeling, and natural ease of 
 language, would do honour to the greatest author 
 that ever existed." Mr. B. W. Procter ("Barry 
 Cornwall ") insists that " the merit and style of the 
 work sufficiently denote the author," who "was 
 and is, beyond all competition, the greatest poet 
 that the world has ever seen." * 
 
 Verplanck (in 1847), after referring to the theory 
 that Pericles was one of the very earliest of Shake- 
 speare's plays, " perhaps an almost boyish work," 
 was inclined to adopt the theory that " the original 
 Fericles was by some inferior hand, perhaps by a 
 personal friend of Shakespeare's, and that he, 
 without remodelling the plot, undertook to correct 
 and improve it, beginning with slight additions, and 
 his mind, warming as he proceeded, breaking out 
 towards the close of the drama with its accustomed 
 vigour and abundance." 
 
 The fatal objection to this hypothesis is that the 
 first two acts of the play are so uniformly and so 
 abominably bad that we cannot imagine Shakespeare 
 undertaking to revise such a play and leaving two 
 entire acts in their original condition. 
 
 There is the same insuperable objection to the 
 theory that Pericles was written by Shakespeare 
 and another writer working together — a theory 
 which, strangely enough, has been revived by Mr. 
 Lee, who says that Shakespeare " reverted in the 
 year following the colossal effort of Lear (1607) 
 to his earlier habit of collaboration, and with 
 
444 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 another's aid composed two dramas — Timon of 
 Athens and Pericles." Is it conceivable that the 
 author of Lear would collaborate with one who 
 could write the first two acts of Pericles, or that 
 after allowing his partner to write those acts with- 
 out aid or advice from himself (for there is not a 
 line in them which he could have written or even 
 retouched) he accepted or approved them, and then 
 began work himself on the third act in the grand 
 style of that period in his own career? 
 
 This theory, moreover, as well as the theory that 
 Shakespeare finished or revised a play by somebody 
 else, assumes, as Fleay has said, that the dramatist 
 " deliberately chose a story of incest, which, having 
 no tragic horror in it, would have been rejected by 
 Ford or Massinger, and grafted on this a filthy story, 
 which, being void of humour, would even have been 
 rejected by Fletcher." 
 
 The one theory that explains all the facts in the 
 case, and also the perplexity that these facts have 
 caused the critics, is thus stated by Fleay : " Shake- 
 speare wrote the story of Marina, in the last three 
 acts, minus the prose scenes and the Gower. This 
 gives a perfect artistic and organic whole, and, in 
 my opinion, ought to be printed as such in every 
 edition of Shakespeare : the whole play, as it stands, 
 might be printed in collections for the curious, and 
 there only. But this story was not enough for fill- 
 ing the necessary five acts from which Shakespeare 
 never deviated ; he therefore left it unfinished, and 
 
^ 
 
 Plays of Mixed or Doubtful Authorship 445 
 
 used the arrangement of much of the later part in 
 the end of The Winter's Tale, which should be care- 
 fully compared with this play. The unfinished play 
 was put into the hands of another of the ' poets ' 
 attached to the same theatre, and the greater part of 
 the present play was the result ; this poet having used 
 the whole story as given in Gower and elsewhere." 
 
 It is not necessary to assume that this hypothesis 
 is correct in all its details. The essential point is 
 that an unfinished play of Shakespeare's was fin- 
 ished by somebody else; not that he finished or 
 revised a play by somebody else. 
 
 We may be sure, however, that Shakespeare had 
 nothing whatever to do with the completion of the 
 play. It is inconceivable that he could have con- 
 sented to its being completed by such a person as 
 did it or in the way in which he did it. 
 
 Delius and Fleay agree that the person who 
 wrote acts i. and ii. and the Gower matter was 
 -George Wilkins, who wrote the novel based on the 
 play. Fleay believes that the offensive prose scenes 
 were the work of W. Eowley. He discovered that 
 about the time when Pericles was written Wilkins, 
 Eowley, and John Day collaborated in writing The 
 Travels of the Three English brothers, Sir Thomas, 
 Sir Anthony, and Sir Robert Shirley, an Historicall 
 Play, printed in 1607. 
 
 In the discussion that followed the reading of 
 Fleay's paper on Pericles before the New Shak- 
 spere Society, May 8th, 1874, Furnivall said : — 
 
446 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 " I hope the fact I am going to mention will ren- 
 der all further discussion as to the Shakspere part 
 of the Pericles unnecessary. When I first saw Mr. 
 Tennyson last winter — after many years' occasional 
 correspondence — he asked me, during our talk, 
 whether I had ever examined Pericles with any 
 care. I had to confess that I'd never read it, as 
 some friends whom I considered good judges had 
 told me it was very doubtful whether Shakspere 
 wrote any of it. Mr. Tennyson answered, ' 0, that 
 won't do! He wrote all the part relating to the 
 birth and recovery of Marina, and the recovery of 
 Thais. I settled that long ago. Come up-stairs, 
 and I '11 read it to you.' Up-stairs to the smoking- 
 room in Seamore Place we went, and there I had 
 the rare treat of hearing the poet read in his deep 
 voice — with, an occasional triumphant * Is n't that 
 Shakspere ? what do you think of it ? ' and a few 
 comments — the genuine part of Pericles. I need 
 not tell you how I enjoyed the reading, or how 
 quick and sincere my conviction of the genuineness 
 of the part read was." 
 
 The parts read by Tennyson were almost exactly 
 the same that Fleay had marked as Shakespeare's ; 
 and, as Purnivall adds, "the independent confir- 
 mation of the poet-critic's result by the met- 
 rical-test-worker's process is most satisfactory and 
 interesting." 
 
 Henry VIII., under the title of "The 'Famous 
 History of the Life of King Henry the Eight," 
 
Plays of Mixed or Doubtful Authorship 447 
 
 was first published in the Folio of 1623, where it 
 is printed with remarkable accuracy. 
 
 The date of the play has been the subject of much 
 discussion. The earlier editors and commentators, 
 with the single exception of Chalmers, believed that 
 it was written before the death of Elizabeth (March, 
 1603), and that the allusion to her successor, "Nor 
 shall this peace sleep with her," etc. (v. 5), did not 
 form a part of Cranmer's speech as originally com- 
 posed, but was interpolated by Ben Jon son after 
 James had come to the throne. But, as White re- 
 marks, " the speech in question is homogeneous and 
 Shakespearian ; the subsequent allusion to Elizabeth 
 as ' an aged princess ' would not have been ventured 
 during her life; and the exhibition of Henry's self- 
 ish passion for Anne Bullen, and of her lightness 
 of character, would have been hardly less offensive 
 to the Virgin Queen, her daughter." 
 
 In the Stationers' Kegisters, under date of 
 February 12th, 1604 [-5], we find the following 
 memorandum: "Nath. Butter] Yf he get good 
 allowance for the Enterlude of K. Henry 8th before 
 he begyn to print it, and then procure the wardens 
 hands to yt for the entrance of yt, he is to have the 
 same for his copy ; " and some editors have thought 
 that the entry refers to Shakespeare's drama. It is 
 more probable, however, that the reference is to a 
 play of Samuel Kowley's, " When you See me you 
 Know me, or the Famous Chronicle History of King 
 Henry the Eighth," which was published in 1605. 
 
448 -Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Knight, White, and Hudson believe that the play 
 was written at Stratford in 1612 or 1613, and that 
 it was the poet's last work. The weight of evidence, 
 both external and internal, seems to be in favour of 
 this opinion. 
 
 The Globe Theatre was burned down on the 29th 
 of June, 1613, and we have several contemporary- 
 accounts of the catastrophe. A letter from John 
 Chamberlain to Sir Ralph Winwood, dated July 
 12th, 1613, describes the burning, and says that it 
 " fell out by a peale of chambers " — that is, a dis- 
 charge of small cannon, Howes, in his continuation 
 of Stowe's Annales, written some time after the fire 
 (since he speaks of the theatre as rebuilt " the next 
 spring"), says that the house was "filled with 
 people to behold the play, viz., of Henry the 
 Eighth." There can be little doubt that the play 
 in question was Shakespeare's Henry VIII., in 
 which, according to the original stage direction (iv. 
 1), we have " chambers discharged " at the entrance 
 of the king to the "mask at the cardinal's house." 
 
 The critics are now generally agreed that portions 
 of Henry VIII. were written by John Fletcher. Mr. 
 Roderick, in notes appended to Edwards's Canons of 
 Criticism (edition of 1765), was the first to point out 
 certain peculiarities in the versification of the play 
 — the frequent occurrence of a redundant or elev- 
 enth syllable, of pauses nearer the end of the verse 
 than usual, and of "emphasis clashing with the 
 cadence of the metre." More recently two critics. 
 
Plays of Mixed or Doubtful Authorship 449 
 
 working independently, divided the play between 
 Shakespeare and Fletcher in the same manner, 
 assigning certain scenes to each author, on account 
 of differences in the versification and diction ; and 
 a study of the dramatic treatment and characteriza- 
 tion by these and other critics led to precisely 
 the same results. Mr. James Spedding, who was the 
 first (1850) to discuss the question at length, and 
 to divide the play in this manner, afterward stated 
 that the resemblance to Fletcher's style in parts of 
 the play was pointed out to him several years 
 before by Tennyson; and it is a curious fact that 
 Ealph Waldo Emerson, in his lecture on Shake- 
 speare (published in 1850 before he could have seen 
 the articles by Spedding and Hickson, the other 
 critic who had divided the play, and written several 
 years before it was published), also noted the evi- 
 dences of two hands in Henry VIII. He says, 
 after referring to Malone's discussion of the double 
 authorship of Henry VI. : " In Henry VIII. I think 
 I see plainly the cropping out of the original rock 
 on which his [Shakespeare's] stratum was laid. The 
 first play was written by a superior, thoughtful man 
 with a vicious ear. I can mark his lines, and know 
 well their cadence. See Wolsey's soliloquy and the 
 following scene with Cromwell, where, instead of 
 the metre of Shakespeare, whose secret is that the 
 thought constructs the tune, so that reading for 
 the sense will best bring out the rhythm, here the 
 lines are constructed on a given tune, and the verse 
 
450 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 has even a trace of pulpit eloquence. But the play 
 contains, through all its length, unmistakable traits 
 of Shakespeare's hand, and some passages are like 
 autographs." The passages which Emerson ascribes 
 to the " man with a vicious ear " are all among 
 those which Spedding and others decide to be 
 Fletcher's. People with no ear — or ears too long 
 — may sneer at verse tests as they please; but 
 when poets like Tennyson and Emerson come to 
 the same conclusions as the "metre-mongers" and 
 other critics, we may safely assume that these con- 
 clusions are probably correct. 
 
 As in the case of the plays already considered, 
 various theories concerning the double authorship 
 of Henry VIII. have been proposed. Some critics 
 think that it was an instance of collaboration ; but 
 it is more probable, as the majority believe, that 
 Eletcher completed an unfinished play of Shake- 
 speare's. Three or four take the ground that 
 Shakespeare was the sole author; one (Mr. Robert 
 Boyle, in the Transactions of the New Shakspere 
 Society, for 1880-5) argues that the play was 
 written by Fletcher and Massinger, and that Shake- 
 speare had nothing to do with it. 
 
 Mr. Lee is inclined to ascribe Wolsey's famous 
 " Farewell " to Shakespeare ; but, as Dowden says : 
 " It is certainly Fletcher's, and when one has per- 
 ceived this, one perceives also that it was an error 
 ever to suppose it written in Shakespeare's manner." 
 
 The Two Noble Kinsmen was first printed, so far 
 
Plays of Mixed or Doubtful Authorship 451 
 
 as we know, in 1634, in quarto form, and with the 
 following title-page : — 
 
 "The Two Noble Kinsmen: Presented at the 
 Blackfriers by the Kings Maiesties servants, with 
 great applause : Written by the memorable Worthies 
 of their time ; 
 
 jM' John Fletcher, and ) ^ 
 My William Shakspeare. ) 
 
 The play also appeared in the second (1679) edi- 
 tion of Beaumont and Fletcher's dramas, being one 
 of " no fewer than seventeen plays more than were in 
 the former " (the first folio, of 1647), as the preface 
 tells us. It was not admitted to the third and 
 fourth Shakespeare folios (published after the ap- 
 pearance of the play in 1634), nor to any other 
 collected edition of Shakespeare until 1857. Some- 
 what earlier in the nineteenth century certain critics 
 began to suspect a double authorship, and Lamb 
 and Coleridge, among others, decided that the old 
 title-page was correct in assigning a share in the 
 work to Shakespeare. In 1833 Mr. William Spal- 
 ding published an elaborate analysis of the play, 
 allotting to Shakespeare and Fletcher their respect- 
 ive portions, and Hallam, Dyce, and other critics 
 and commentators became converts to his views. 
 Dyce included the play in his edition, as Hudson 
 did in his second edition, and as I did in mine. 
 But Spalding in 1840 " weakened " considerably in 
 his opinions concerning the play, and later declared 
 the problem of its authorship insoluble. Other 
 
452 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 critics who at first agreed with him have had a 
 similar experience. For myself, at present I think 
 it very doubtful whether Shakespeare had anything 
 whatever to do with the play. Mr. Lee, however, 
 decides that " frequent signs of Shakespeare's work- 
 m.anship are unmistakable." Some critics are of 
 the opinion that Massinger wrote the parts that 
 have been assigned to Shakespeare. 
 
 Edivard III. is another play in which some critics 
 believe that Shakespeare had a hand, if, indeed, as 
 a few of them think, it is not wholly his. It was 
 entered on the Stationers' Registers, December 1st, 
 1595, and was published in quarto the next year, 
 with the title, "The Eaigne of King Edward the 
 third : as it hath been sundrie times plaied about 
 the Citie of London." Another edition was printed 
 in 1599 ; and there is reason to believe that others 
 appeared in 1597, 1617, and 1625, but no copies of 
 these are now extant. 
 
 It was ascribed to Shakespeare as early as 1656 
 in a list of plays appended to Goff's Careless Shep- 
 herd ; but the list is in other respects so palpably 
 inaccurate that no authority can be accorded to it. 
 Capell, in 1760, published it in his Prolusiones as 
 " a play thought to be writ by Shakespeare." That 
 it was not recognized as such in the poet's day is 
 evident from its not being mentioned in Meres's list 
 in 1598, nor included in any of the four folio 
 editions. 
 
 Collier in 1874 advocated the theory that the 
 
Plays of Mixed or Doubtful Authorship 453 
 
 whole play is Shakespeare's, and some of the Ger- 
 man critics hold the same opinion. The larger 
 number, however, ascribe to him only the episode 
 of the King's love for the Countess of Salisbury, 
 which occupies the latter half of act i. and the 
 whole of act ii. This is awkwardly introduced, and 
 interrupts the main action; and it is, moreover, so 
 markedly superior to the rest of the play that it is 
 quite certainly by another hand. It also contains 
 (ii. 1. 451) a whole line, " Lilies that fester smell far 
 worse than weeds," which occurs in Shakespeare's 
 94th Sonnet, and the expression " scarlet ornaments " 
 (ii. 1. 10), which is found in the 142d Sonnet — 
 applied there to lips, but in the play to cheeks. If 
 the Sonnets were written in 1592 or 1593, as Mr. 
 Lee supposes, the author of the play must have 
 been the borrower; but if they were not written 
 until 1597 or later, it must have been Shakespeare. 
 Many parallelisms between Edward III. and Shake- 
 speare plays of later date (The Merchant of Venice, 
 Hamlet, and Antony and Cleopatra, for instance) 
 have also been pointed out, which prove that the 
 great dramatist was well acquainted with the anon- 
 ymous play, whether he was the author of the love- 
 episode in it or not. Probably he was not, for the 
 episode is, after all, not in the manner of Shake- 
 speare. It is difficult, indeed, to ascribe it to any 
 other dramatist of the time ; but, as Furnivall says, 
 " there were doubtless one-play men in those days, 
 as there have been one-book men since." 
 
454 ^^^^ o^ Shakespeare 
 
 In the seven plays added to the folio of 1664, 
 with the exception of Pericles, Shakespeare can have 
 had no share whatever; and the same may be said 
 of Mucedorus, Fair Em, and sundry other plays 
 assigned to him during his life by unscrupulous 
 publishers, or afterwards by injudicious critics. 
 
CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 DOMESTIC MATTERS, 1606-1616 
 
 DuKiNG the latter half of the year 1606 the King's 
 Company were playing in the provinces. They 
 were at Oxford in July, at Leicester in August, 
 at Dover in September, and on unrecorded dates 
 at Maidstone, Saffron Walden, and Marlborough. In 
 December they had returned to London, and in 
 the Christmas holidays (December 26th) performed 
 Lear before King James at Whitehall. 
 
 The year 1607 was an eventful one in the poet's 
 domestic annals. On the 5th of June his eldest 
 daughter Susanna, then a little more than twenty- 
 four years of age (baptized May 26th, 1583), was 
 married at Stratford to Dr. John Hall, who after- 
 wards attained to considerable eminence as a physi- 
 cian. Little is known of his previous history except 
 that he was born in 1575, and was probably con- 
 nected with the Halls of Acton, near London, 
 where, according to his will of 1635, he owned a 
 house which he bequeathed to his daughter. A 
 John Hall of Actpn was married there in September, 
 1574, and his daughter Elizabeth was baptized in 
 June, 1575. It is possible that Dr. John Hall's 
 
 455 
 
456 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 daughter was named for her; but Hall being an 
 extremely common name in England, and Elizabeth 
 being also very common, this coincidence may have 
 been accidental. 
 
 In his early days Dr. Hall had travelled on the 
 Continent, and had become proficient in the French 
 language. It is not known when he came to Stratford, 
 but it was probably not long before his marriage, as 
 no notice of him is found in the local records before 
 that time. In 1611 his name occurs in a list of 
 persons interested in a highway bill, and in 1612 
 he leased from the corporation a piece of woodland 
 on the outskirts of the town. Tradition says that 
 he resided in the street known as Old Town, and a 
 house still standing there is pointed out as the one 
 he occupied. 
 
 Late in this same year (1607) Shakespeare's 
 brother Edmund died in London, and was buried on 
 the 31st of December in the church of St. Saviour's, 
 Southwark, "with a forenoone knell of the great 
 bell." It may fairly be assumed, as Halliwell Phil- 
 lipps remarks, that " the burial in the church, a mark 
 of respect which was seldom paid to an actor, and 
 which added very considerably to the expenses of 
 the funeral, resulted from the poet's own affection- 
 ate directions; while the selection of the morning 
 for the ceremony, then unusual at St. Saviour's, may 
 have arisen from a wish to give some of the mem- 
 bers of the Globe company the opportunity of attend- 
 ance." Edmund is described in the parish register as 
 
Domestic Matters, 1 606-1616 457 
 
 "a player," and was in his twenty-eighth year (bap- 
 tized May 3d, 1580) at the time of his death. He had 
 probably come to London and entered the theatre 
 through his brother's influence, but no notice of 
 him as an actor has been discovered. 
 
 Elizabeth, the only child of the Halls, was bap- 
 tized on the 21st of February, 1608. The poet thus 
 became a grandfather about two months before he 
 was forty-four years old. She appears to have 
 inherited his shrewd business ability, but nothing 
 else is known of her character. As we shall see, 
 she lived to be his last lineal descendant. 
 
 In September, 1608, Shakespeare lost his mother. 
 Her burial is recorded on the 9th of the month in 
 the parish register thus: "Mayry Sh^xpere, wy- 
 dowe." The poet was probably in Stratford at the 
 time of the funeral, and he may not have returned 
 to London until after the 16th of October, when he 
 was the principal godfather at the baptism of the 
 William Walker to whom in 1616 he bequeathed 
 " twenty shillings in gold." This child was the son 
 of Henry Walker, a mercer and a local alderman. 
 
 On the 29th of October the King's Company were 
 playing in Coventry, thirteen miles from Stratford. 
 At some other time in the year they were at Marl- 
 borough, in Wiltshire. 
 
 In 1610 Shakespeare added to his investments 
 in real estate by the purchase of twenty acres of 
 pasture land from the Combes, adding them to the 
 107 acres he had bought from the same parties in 
 
45 8 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 1602. In tlie same year the King's Company were 
 at Dover in July, at Oxford in August, and at some 
 unrecorded date at Shrewsbury. 
 
 In February, 1612, the town council of Stratford 
 resolved that plays were unlawful, and " the suffer- 
 ance of them against the orders heretofore made, 
 and against the example of other well-governed 
 cities and boroughs." It is therefore decided that 
 the penalty of ten shillings imposed on players in 
 an order of 1602 be raised to ten pounds. It is 
 said that ten years later (1622) the King's Company 
 were actually bribed by the council to leave the town 
 without playing. The town records state that six 
 shillings was " payd to the Kinges players for not 
 playinge in» the hall." This " was obviously the 
 result of a deference to the Court, it being no doubt 
 considered imprudent to permit the royal servants 
 to depart without a compensation for their uncere- 
 monious dismissal." They were evidently regarded 
 as a privileged company, for at a Court Baron held 
 in October, 1616, at the neighbouring town of Hen- 
 ley-in-Arden, an order was unanimously passed by 
 the leading inhabitants that no other actors should 
 have the use of their town-hall. 
 
 In the parish register at Stratford, under date 
 of February 3d, 1612, we find the record of the 
 burial of "Gilbertus Shakspeare, adolescens." ' It 
 is doubtful whether this can refer to the poet's 
 brother Gilbert, who was baptized October 13th, 
 1566, and would therefore have been more than 
 
Domestic Matters, 1606-1616 459 
 
 forty-five years old in February, 1612. He is de- 
 scribed in a record of 1597 as being a haberdasher 
 in the parish of St. Bridget, London. In May, 1602, 
 he was in Stratford, acting for his brother William 
 in a conveyance of land. He is next heard of as a 
 witness to a local deed of 1609, in which his signa- 
 ture is so well written as to indicate that he had 
 been educated at the Grammar School in his native 
 town. Nothing further is known about him, and 
 he is not mentioned in the poet's will. Malone, 
 who seldom, if ever, makes a , statement of the kind 
 without substantial evidence, says that Gilbert " cer- 
 tainly died before his sonj" but there is no record 
 of his marriage or of the birth of a son, who, if 
 living when the poet made his will, would probably 
 have been mentioned in it. It is possible that the 
 son was illegitimate, as some have supposed. But 
 it is also possible that the "adolescens" in the 
 register is a slip of the scribe who made the entry 
 from the sexton's notes ; for, as Halliwell Phillipps 
 tells us, the entries in the book were made from 
 such notes, and "their accuracy officially therein 
 certified, at frequent but unsettled intervals," the 
 record being therefore " a copy or an abridgment of 
 a note made at the time of the ceremony." It seems 
 to me more probable that an error in a single word 
 of an entry thus made at second hand may have 
 occurred, than that several entries of marriage, birth, 
 and death which we might expect to find in the 
 register should have been omitted. I am therefore 
 
460 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 inclined to believe that it was the poet's brother 
 Gilbert, not a hypothetical nephew, who was buried 
 in February, 1612. 
 
 In February of the next year, Eichard, probably 
 the last surviving brother of the poet, also died, in 
 the thirty-ninth year of his age. He was baptized 
 on the 11th of March, 1574. His burial, according 
 to the register, was on the 4th of February, 1613. 
 Joan (baptized April 15th, 1569) was the only child 
 of John and Mary Shakespeare, except William, who 
 was now left. She married William Hart and sur- 
 vived her famous brother thirty years, dying in. 
 1646. She had three sons, who lived to be remem- 
 bered in the poet's will, and a daughter, who died 
 in 1607, when four years old. 
 
 In March, 1613, Shakespeare bought a house in 
 London, the lower part of which was occupied as 
 a haberdasher's shop. The property was very near 
 the Blackfriars theatre, and the price was £140, of 
 which £60 remained on mortgage. For some reason 
 Shakespeare must have particularly wished to get 
 possession of it, for the former owner, Henry Walker, 
 a London musician, had paid only £100 in 1604, and 
 it is improbable that it had materially increased in 
 value since that time. Shakespeare soon leased the 
 house to John Robinson, who was one of the per- 
 sons that had violently opposed the establishment 
 of the neighbouring theatre. 
 
 In June, 1613, a malicious bit of gossip was cir- 
 culating in Stratford with reference to Mrs. Hall, 
 
Domestic Matters, 1606-1616 461 
 
 Shakespeare's daughter, and one Ralph Smith. The 
 rumour was traced to a person named Lane, who was 
 accordingly summoned to the Ecclesiastical Court to 
 answer for it. The case was opened in Worcester on 
 the 15th of July, 1613, Robert Whatcot, a friend of 
 the poet, being the chief witness on behalf of the 
 plaintiff. Neither Lane nor his attorney ventured 
 to appear in court, and in the end the lady's char- 
 acter was vindicated by the excommunication of 
 Lane on the 27th of July. 
 
 The precise date of Shakespeare's return to Strat- 
 ford to take up his residence at New Place is un- 
 known ; but it was probably as early as September, 
 1611, when his name appears in a list of subscri- 
 bers (including the leading inhabitants of the town) 
 to a fund raised " towards the charge of prosecuting 
 the bill in parliament for the better repair of the 
 highways." 
 
 The Globe theatre in London was destroyed by 
 fire on the 29th of June, 1613 (page 448 above). 
 Shakespeare was probably in Stratford at the time, 
 as he had already taken up his residence there, 
 and his name is not mentioned in any of the notices 
 of the catastrophe. Some of the actors had a 
 narrow escape, from death in the conflagration. 
 The theatre was rebuilt the next year. 
 
 In the spring of 1614, when Shakespeare was 
 residing at Stratford (though he may have been on 
 a visit to London at that particular time) a Puritan 
 preacher, who had been invited to the town by 
 
462 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 the corporation, was hospitably entertained at New 
 Place. An item in the town records reads : " For one 
 quart of' sack and one quart of clarett wine geven to 
 a preacher at the New Place, xxd" Dr. Hall, who 
 was a Puritan, may have been living with Shake- 
 speare at that time, and the preacher may have 
 been invited to the house through his influence. If 
 Shakespeare was at home, no doubt he found the 
 bibulous Puritan an interesting study. 
 
 On the 9th of July, 1614, a fire at Stratford des- 
 troyed no less than fifty-four houses, besides barns, 
 stables, and other buildings. Fortunately the Shake- 
 speare birthplace in Henley Street and the poet's 
 residence at New Place escaped the conflagration. 
 
 In the summer of 1614, John Combe of Welcombe 
 died, leaving £5 to Shakespeare in his will. This 
 proves sufficiently that he had no ill feeling towards 
 the poet on account of the mock epitaph which the 
 latter is said to have written upon him. Eowe tells 
 the story thus : " It happened that in a pleasant 
 conversation amongst their common friends, Mr. 
 Combe told Shakspeare in a laughing manner that 
 he intended to write his epitaph, if he happened to 
 outlive him ; and since he could not know what 
 might be said of him when he was dead, he desired 
 it might be done immediately; upon which Shak- 
 speare gave him these four lines : — 
 
 " ' Ten in the hundred lies here ingrav'd ; 
 'Tis hundred to ten his soul is not sav'd : 
 
Domestic Matters, 1606-1616 463 
 
 If any man ask, who lies in this tomb ? 
 
 Oh ! ho ! quoth the Devil, 'tis my John-a-Combe.' " 
 
 Rowe adds that Combe " never forgave it ; " but it 
 is more probable, from the biographer's own version 
 of the story, that the squire took the epitaph in the 
 " laughing manner " in which it was written. 
 
 According to Aubrey, the epitaph was not written 
 until after Combe's death ; but it is highly improb- 
 able that the poet would thus satirize his old friend 
 after his death — and, least of all, before the fu- 
 neral. Both versions are very likely false. More- 
 over, there is no reason for believing that Combe 
 was usurious; and ten per cent was the legal and 
 ordinary rate of interest until after Shakespeare's 
 death. 
 
 In the autumn of 1614 the good people of Strat- 
 ford were greatly excited by the attempt of William 
 Combe, the squire of Welcombe, to enclose a large 
 portion of the common fields near the town. The 
 design was resisted by the corporation, on the ground 
 that it would be an injury to the agricultural inter- 
 ests of the town, and would seriously diminish the 
 tithes. Combe nevertheless spared no efforts to 
 accomplish his object, coercing the poor and coaxing 
 the rich to favour it. It seems probable that Shake- 
 speare was finally induced by Combe's agent to join 
 that party, being assured that his personal interests 
 should suffer no detriment. It is certain that he 
 did not oppose the enclosures, for on the 23d of 
 
464 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 December the corporation addressed a letter of re- 
 monstrance to him on the subject, and another on 
 the same day to Mr. Manwaring, who was person- 
 ally interested in the success of the scheme, and 
 was acting in unison with Combe to promote it. 
 
 Shakespeare was in London when the letter of 
 the corporation was addressed to him, having gone 
 thither on the 16th of November. It is unlikely 
 that, in those days of tedious and difficult travel, 
 he returned to Stratford in the interval. We are 
 indebted for our knowledge of some of the details of 
 the business to the diary of Thomas Greene, the 
 town-clerk of Stratford, in which the following 
 entries occur : — 
 
 " Jovis [Thursday], 17 No : my Cosen Shakspeare com- 
 myng yesterday to towne, I went to see him howe he did. 
 He told me that they assured him they ment to inclose 
 noe further then to Gospell Bushe, and soe upp straight 
 (leavyng out part of the Dyngles to the field) to the gate 
 in Clopton hedge, and take in Salisburyes peece : and 
 that they meane in Aprill to servey the Land, and then 
 to gyve satisfaccion, and not before ; and he and Mr. 
 Hall say they think ther will be nothyng done at all. 
 
 "23 Dec. A hall. Lettres wryten — one to Mr. Man- 
 neryng, another to Mr. Shakspeare, with almost all the 
 Companyes handes to eyther : I alsoe wrytte of myself 
 to my Cosen Shakspear the Coppyes of all our [actes], 
 then alsoe a not of the Inconvenyences wold grow by 
 the Inclosure. 
 
 " 9 Ja : [1615.] Mr. Eeplyngham, 28 Octobris, articled 
 
Domestic Matters, 1606 -i6i 6 465 
 
 with Mr. Shakspeare, and then I was putt in by T. 
 
 Lucas. 
 
 " On Wednesday being the xjth day [Jan. 1615] . . . 
 
 Mr. Manyryng and his agreement for me with my Cosen 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 fSep. W. Shakspeare 
 
 I tellyng J. Greene that 
 
 "14 Aug. [1615] Mr. Barker J I was not able to beare 
 
 dyed. | the encloseyngofWel- 
 
 l^combe." 
 
 Greene was in London at the date of the first 
 entry, and in Stratford at that of the second. Why 
 the last observation should have been chronicled at 
 all is a mystery ; but the note has a mournful inter- 
 est as giving us the latest recorded spoken words of 
 the dramatist. 
 
 Concerning this entry Halliwell - Phillipps re- 
 marks: "There is a singular obscurity which ren- 
 ders a correct interpretation of Greene's handwriting 
 a matter of unusual difficulty. The pronoun in this 
 entry is considered by Mr. Edward Scott of the 
 British Museum, a very able judge, to be really 
 the letter J", while Dr. Ingleby is of opinion 
 that Greene, who was unquestionably a careless 
 scribbler, intended to write he. But if Shakespeare 
 had not favoured the enclosure scheme, why should 
 the majority of the corporation have addressed one 
 of their letters of remonstrance to him as well as to 
 Manwaring, or why should Greene have troubled the 
 former with ' a note of the inconveniences ' that 
 
466 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 would arise from the execution of the proposed 
 design ? " Moreover, the articles of agreement be- 
 tween Shakespeare and Eeplingham are extant, se- 
 curing the former against loss by the enclosures, in 
 order to induce him to favour the scheme. 
 
 Dr. Ingleby, in his monograph on the subject of 
 the enclosures (1885), in which he prints all the 
 documentary evidence in the case, takes the ground 
 (as stated above) that, though the I or J, in the 
 expression " I was not able " in Greene's diary, is 
 really / and not he, it was nevertheless a slip of the 
 pen and meant for he. He admits that "this sup- 
 position would be strained unless we knew that 
 Greene makes this substitution in other passages; 
 and that is so." He cites several instances of this 
 error in the diary, corrected by the writer. His 
 summary of the matter is as follows : " The pro- 
 posed enclosure would have involved three radical 
 changes: (1) conversion of tillage into pasturage; 
 (2) alteration of boundaries ; (3) change of tenure 
 and ownership. The first would have materially 
 affected the value of the lease of the tithes, one 
 moiety of which belonged to Shakespeare, and the 
 other wholly or partially to Thomas Greene. Ac- 
 cordingly we may be sure that unless they received 
 ample compensation in land or money they would 
 have been opposed to the scheme. The large stake 
 they had in it, and the probability that William 
 Combe would, in his own interests, endeavour to 
 purchase Shakespeare's co-operation, even at a very 
 
Domestic Matters, 1606- 1616 467 
 
 high, figure, fully account for the extraordinary 
 efforts of the corporation to secure his opposition to 
 the enclosure. Shakespeare, like Greene, seems 
 to have temporized with both parties, when he 
 might have treated with both, like an elector selling 
 his vote to the highest bidder. That he abstained 
 from assisting the scheme is, I think, a fair inference 
 from the item on the last page of the original " — 
 that is, the entry in the diary which contains the 
 disputed "I was not able." Dr. Ingleby objects to 
 regarding I as what Thomas Greene meant to write, 
 and therefore as referring to himself, because it 
 implies that Shakespeare told J. Greene "a fact 
 about Thomas, which, if true, must have been 
 already known to him ; and that Thomas Greene 
 reverted to this as of sufficient importance to be 
 recorded in the diary long after it had been posted 
 up." This, as Dr. Ingleby adds, " is in the highest 
 degree improbable." He therefore has no doubt 
 whatever that "Shakespeare told J. Greene that 
 he was not able to co-operate with William Combe 
 and Manwaring in the proposed enclosure, and meant 
 to imply that he preferred his moiety of the tithes 
 to the compensation offered him. At the same 
 time he must have known that the scheme was to 
 the last degree unpopular with the inhabitants, who 
 viewed it as likely to inflict on them even greater 
 loss than the late fires, and were ready, if necessary, 
 to oppose the enclosure vi et armis. No wonder, 
 then, that Shakespeare shrank from helping on a 
 
468 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 movement of so great danger to the peace of Strat- 
 ford and its surrounding districts. Anyhow, I feel 
 confident that the words here imputed to him ought 
 not to be understood as an expression of opinion on 
 the subject of enclosures." 
 
 It should be understood that this entry was made 
 at some unknown time (though Dr. Ingleby says 
 " five months ") after the one beside which it is put. 
 It was apparently inserted in that blank space in 
 the diary because the writer had been told that the 
 conversation occurred in September — of 1614, not 
 of 1615. 
 
 The attempted enclosure was not accomplished. 
 On the 27th of March, 1615, an order prohibiting it 
 was issued by Chief Justice Coke at the Warwick 
 Assises. A portion of the disputed land, called 
 in Greene's diary as now "the Dingles," is still un- 
 enclosed, and is one of the best points for getting 
 a good view of Stratford and its neighbourhood. 
 
 On Saturday, this 10th of February, 1616, Judith, 
 the poet's younger daughter, who has been so 
 charmingly idealized in Mr. Black's novel bearing 
 her name, was married to Thomas Quiney, who was 
 nearly four years her junior, having been baptized 
 on the 26th of February, 1589. He was the son of 
 Eichard Quiney, whose correspondence with the 
 poet in 1598 has been already noticed (page 300 
 above). At the time of his marriage Thomas lived 
 in a small house on the west side of the High 
 Street, of which he had taken a twenty-one years' 
 
Domestic Matters, 1 606-1616 469 
 
 lease from the corporation in December, 1611, " The 
 front of this house, which is near the corner of 
 Wood Street, has been modernized, but much of the 
 interior, with its massive beams, oaken floors, and 
 square joists, remains structurally as it must have 
 been in the days of Thomas Quiney." In the sum- 
 mer of 1616, he obtained the lease of a house, called 
 the Cage (probably at one time a prison), from his 
 brother-in-law, William Chandler, who gave it to 
 him in exchange for his interests in the house on 
 the other side of the way. He appears to have 
 inhabited the Cage from the time it came into his 
 hands until he removed from it shortly before 
 November, 1652, when the lease was assigned to 
 his brother Eichard of London, the premises being 
 then described as "lately in the tenure of Thomas 
 Quiney." The house has long been modernized, the 
 only existing portions of the ancient building being 
 a few massive beams supporting the floor above 
 the cellar. 
 
 Nothing is known concerning the career of young 
 Quiney previous to 1611, but that he was an accom- 
 plished penman and acquainted with French may 
 be inferred from the motto in that language and 
 the elaborately flourished signatures with which he 
 adorned an account delivered to the corporation in 
 1623. At the time of his marriage or soon after- 
 wards he was in business as a vintner at the Cage, 
 and was patronized by the corporation and the lead- 
 ing inhabitants. In 1617 he was elected a burgess, 
 
470 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 and in 1621-1623 he acted as chamberlain. In 
 1630 he retired from the council, and at the same 
 time was involved in litigation, and making an at- 
 tempt to dispose of the lease of his house. On the 
 21st of September, 1630, he was fined for swearing 
 and for encouraging tipplers in his shop. His busi- 
 ness fell off, and about 1652 he abandoned it, and 
 removed to London, where he seems to have died 
 a few years later. His brother Eichard, who was a 
 wealthy grocer, appears to have assisted him after 
 he left Stratford. 
 
 Thomas and Judith Quiney had three children, 
 whose baptisms are recorded in the parish register 
 at Stratford thus : — 
 
 " Nov. 23, 1616. Shakspere filius Thomas Quyny 
 gent." 
 
 " Feb. 9, 1617-8. Eichard filius Thomas Quinee." 
 
 "Jan. 23, 1619-20. Thomas, fill, to Thomas 
 Queeney." 
 
 The eldest child died a few months after his 
 birth, his burial being thus recorded : — 
 
 "May 8, 1617. Shakspere fillius Tho. Quyny, 
 gent." 
 
 In the Chamberlain's Accounts, for the year 1617, 
 it is stated that the sum of 4d. was paid for having 
 the great bell rung "at the death of Thomas Quynis 
 child." 
 
 The second son barely attained to the age of 
 twenty, and the youngest was only eighteen at his 
 death; but these brothers died within a month of 
 
Domestic Matters, 1606-161 6 471 
 
 each other, probably through some sickness prevail- 
 ing in the town. Their burials are thus re- 
 corded : — 
 
 " 1638. Jan. 28. Thomas filius Thomee Quiney." 
 "1638. Feb. 26. Eichardus filius Tho. Quiney." 
 Judith Quiney lived to the age of 76 years, a 
 term much exceeding that attained, with the excep- 
 tion of her aunt Joan Hart, by other members of 
 the family. Her burial is thus recorded : " 1661. 
 Febu. 9. Judith uxor Thomas Quiney, Gent." 
 
 There was some reason for hastening the marriage 
 of Judith Shakespeare, for it took place without a 
 license; an irregularity for which the couple were 
 fined and threatened with excommunication by the 
 ecclesiastical court at Worcester a few weeks after- 
 wards. It has been suggested that the failing 
 health of the poet may explain the hurried nuptials, 
 as no other cause is known or suspected. We 
 know that his will was prepared in the latter part 
 of January, 1616, under the direction of Francis 
 Oollins, a solicitor then residing at Warwick. 
 
 It appears, from the original date in the super- 
 scription, and from some of the other erasures in 
 the manuscript, that it was a corrected draft ready 
 for the engrossed copy that was to be signed by 
 the testator on Thursday, the 25th of January ; but, 
 for some unknown reason, the appointment with the 
 solicitor was postponed, at Shakespeare's request, 
 and before Collins had ordered a fair copy to be 
 made. The draft therefore remained in his custody 
 
472 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 until the poet's condition became suddenly more 
 serious, or the fever which is said to have caused 
 his death supervened, when the lawyer was hur- 
 riedly summoned from Warwick. It was deemed 
 unadvisable to wait for the preparation of a regular 
 transcript of the will, and the document was signed 
 after a few more alterations had been hastily 
 made. 
 
 The most peculiar interlineation in the will, and 
 the one which has been the subject of the greatest 
 discussion with reference to its probable bearing on 
 the question whether the poet was happy in his 
 domestic relations, is that in which he leaves his 
 widow his "second-best bed with the furniture." 
 Halliwell-Phillipps remarks : " The first-best bed was 
 that generally reserved for visitors, and one which 
 may possibly have descended as a family heirloom, 
 becoming in that way the undevisable property of 
 his eldest daughter. Bedsteads were sometimes of 
 elaborate workmanship, and gifts of them are often 
 to be met with in ancient wills. The notion of in- 
 difEerence to his wife, so frequently deduced from 
 the above-mentioned entry, cannot be sustained on 
 that account. So far from being considered of tri- 
 fling import, beds were even sometimes selected as 
 portions of compensation for dower; and bequests 
 of personal articles of the most insignificant descrip- 
 tion were never formerly held in any light but that 
 of marks of affection. Among the smaller legacies 
 of former days may be enumerated kettles, chairs. 
 
Domestic Matters, 1606- 1616 473 
 
 gowns, hats, pewter cups, feather bolsters, and cul- 
 lenders. In the year 1642 one John Shakespeare 
 of Budbrook, near Warwick, considered it a suffi- 
 cient mark of respect to his father-in-law to leave 
 him ' his best boots.' " 
 
 It may be added that Coke, in his Commentary on 
 Littleton (edition of 1629), says : " And note that in 
 some places, chattels as heirloomes, as the hest bed, 
 table, pot, pan, cart, and other dead chattels move- 
 able, may go to the heire, and the heire in that case 
 may have an action for them at the common law." 
 
 As to the omission of any other reference to the 
 widow in Shakespeare's will than the interlined 
 bequest of the " second-best bed," it is sufficient to 
 say that she was amply provided for by virtue of 
 her rights of dower, and that it was by no means 
 uncommon to omit all reference to the widow 
 in wills of the time when she was thus pro- 
 vided for. The gift of the bed was doubtless a 
 mark of personal regard, and not the deliberate 
 insult it would otherwise have been — an insult 
 we cannot imagine William Shakespeare as inflict- 
 ing on the mother of his children. 
 
 On the 17th of April, 1616, William Hart, who 
 had married Joan Shakespeare, and who was carry- 
 ing on the business of a hatter at the birthplace in 
 Henley Street, was buried at Stratford. 
 
 Shakespeare himself died the very next week — 
 on Tuesday, April 23d. According to the Eev. John 
 Ward (see page 12 above), in the latter part of 
 
474 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 March the poet was visited by his friends, Dray- 
 ton and Ben Jonson; and at a "merry meeting" of 
 the three at a Stratford tavern, they "drank too 
 hard, for Shakespear died of a feavour there con- 
 tracted." But the story probably had no other 
 foundation than the popular notion of the time 
 that fevers were generally due to some excess in 
 eating or drinking. It is more likely, as Halliwell- 
 Phillipps suggests, that the disease in Shakespeare's 
 case was induced by the wretched sanitary condi- 
 tions of the immediate neighbourhood of New Place 
 — an explanation that would not have occurred even 
 to the medical men of that day. Chapel Lane, which 
 bounded one side of the estate, was one of the filthi- 
 est thoroughfares of the town. A streamlet ran 
 through it, the water of which turned a mill, al- 
 luded to in the local records of that period. This 
 watercourse gradually became "a shallow fetid 
 ditch, an open receptacle of sewage and filth." It 
 continued to be a nijisance for at least two centuries 
 more. A letter written in 1807, in connection with 
 a lawsuit, describes it as " very obnoxious at times," 
 being " always full of mud." In 1774 it was said 
 to be " a wide dirty ditch choked with mud, and all 
 the filth of that part of the town ran into it." Mid- 
 dens, piggeries, and other nuisances abounded in the 
 lower part of the lane and in the rear of Shake- 
 speare's garden. 
 
 The funeral of "Will. Shakspere, gent.," accord- 
 ing to the parish register, occurred on the 25th of 
 
-, i'riS.^j^sif'^S<Mi ?'fe-,^»*s>» 
 
Domestic Matters, 1606- 161 6 475 
 
 April. His remains were deposited in the chancel of 
 the churchj that being the legal and customary place 
 for the interment of the owners of the tithes. 
 
 The grave is near the northern wall of the chan- 
 cel, covered with a slab bearing this inscription : — 
 
 Good frend, for Iesvs sake forbeare 
 to digg the dvst encloased heare ; 
 
 BlESTE be THE MAN THAT SPARES THES STONES, 
 
 And cvrst be he that moves my bones. 
 
 According to a tradition, dating to the latter part 
 of the seventeenth century, the lines were selected, 
 and "ordered to be cut" on the gravestone, by 
 Shakespeare ; but the parish-clerk told Dowdall in 
 1693 that they were made by the poet himself, " a 
 little before his death." Neither Dugdale in 1656, 
 nor Kowe in 1709, ascribes them to him, and it is 
 hardly possible that they were his composition. If 
 he desired that the verses, or something like them, 
 should be put on the stone, it was doubtless from 
 an aversion to having his bones removed at some 
 future time to the ancient charnel-house which ad- 
 joined the chancel wall near his grave. A visitor 
 to Stratford in 1777 referred to this as follows; 
 "At the side of the chancel is a charnel-house al- 
 most filled with human bones, skulls, etc. — the 
 guide said that Shakespeare was so much affected 
 by this charnel-house that he wrote the epitaph for 
 himself to prevent his bones being thrown into it." 
 
476 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Dr. John Hall was in London in June, 1617, and 
 on the 22d of the month proved Shakespeare's will 
 at the Archbishop of Canterbury's registry. He 
 also presented an inventory of the poet's household 
 effects, but the document has been lost or destroyed. 
 
 The monument to Shakespeare in the parish 
 church was erected at some time previous to 1623, 
 when it was mentioned in the verses by Leonard 
 Digges, prefixed to the folio published in that 
 year : — 
 
 " Shake-speare, at length thy pious fellows give 
 
 The world thy Workes : thy Workes, by which, out-live 
 
 Thy Tombe, thy name must : when that stone is rent, 
 
 And Time dissolves thy Stratford Moniment, 
 
 Here we alive shall view thee still." 
 
 The monument was placed on the north wall of 
 the chancel, and consists of an ornamental niche 
 enclosing a life-sized bust, which tradition says was 
 copied from a posthumous cast of the poet's face. 
 The sculptor was Gerard Johnson, the son of a 
 native of Amsterdam who had settled in England 
 as a " tombe-maker " in the reign of Elizabeth. The 
 bust was originally painted, the eyes being light 
 hazel and the hair and beard auburn. The doublet 
 was scarlet, the gown black, the collar and wrist- 
 bands white. In 1749 the monument was repaired 
 and repainted; but in 1793, at Malone's instigation, 
 the bust was covered with a coat of white paint, 
 which remained until 1861, when the original col- 
 
Domestic Matters, 1606- 16 16 477 
 
 curing was carefully restored. The following hit at 
 Malone's iconoclastic proceeding is found in the 
 Visitors' Book at Stratford : — 
 
 " Stranger, to whom this monument is shown, 
 Invoke the poet's curses on Malone, 
 Whose meddling zeal his barbarous taste betrays, 
 And daubs his tombstone as he marr'd his plays." 
 
 The bust has no merit as a work of art, but as a 
 portrait of the poet we must suppose that it was 
 considered tolerable enough to be accepted by his 
 surviving relatives. 
 
 The following lines are engraved on a tablet 
 beneath the bust : — 
 
 IVDICIO PYLIVM, GENIO SOCRATEM, ARTE MARONEM, 
 TERRA TEGrIT, POPVLVS M^ERET, OLYMPVS HABET. 
 
 STAY PASSENGER, WHY GOEST THOV BY SO FAST, 
 
 READ IF THOV CANST, WHOM ENVIOVS DEATH HATH 
 
 PLAST 
 WITHIN THIS MONVMENT SHAKSPEARE . WITH WHOME 
 QVICK NATVRE DIDE : WHOSE NAME DOTH DECK Y^ 
 
 TOMBE 
 FAR MORE THEN COST : SITH ALL Y^ HE HATH WRITT 
 JI.EAVE8 LIVING ART, BVT PAGE, TO SERVE HIS WITT. 
 
 OBIIT ANO DOI 1616 
 .ETATIS 53 DIE 23 AP. 
 
 That the verses could not have been written by 
 a resident of Stratford, or by any one who knew 
 
47 8 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 where they were to be placed, is proved by the 
 words, " within this monument." They were prob- 
 ably written by some friend in London, where the 
 monument was made. The entire expense of the 
 memorial is said to have been defrayed by Mrs. 
 Hall. 
 
 Shakespeare's widow survived him for more than 
 seven years. The record of her burial is thus given 
 in the parish-register, under the date of August, 
 1623 : — 
 
 ^ „ ( Mrs. Shakespeare. 
 
 ( Anna Uxor Richardi James." 
 
 This bracketed entry has led a few commentators to 
 suspect that she was re-married to Eichard James. 
 "This conjecture is altogether at variance with the 
 terms of her monumental inscription, and brackets 
 of a like description are to be seen in other parts of 
 the register, no fewer than six occurring in the list 
 of baptisms for the year in question, 1623. The 
 matter, however, is placed beyond all doubt by the 
 record of the two funerals as it thus appears in a 
 contemporary transcript of the original notes that 
 were made on the occasion : — 
 
 ' August 8. Mrs, Ann Shakespeare. 
 
 8. Ann, wyfe to Richard James. 
 
 and in an enumeration of 'persons remarkable,' 
 whose names were to be noticed in the Stratford 
 register, which was added to the volume towards 
 
Domestic Matters, 1 606-1616 479 
 
 the close of the seventeenth century, there is in- 
 cluded the memorandum, '1623, one Mrs. Shake- 
 spere was buried ' " (Halliwell-Phillipps). 
 
 Tradition says that she earnestly desired to be 
 laid in the same grave with her husband. Her 
 tombstone is beside his, and bears the following 
 inscription : — 
 
 " Here lyeth interred the Body of Anne, wife of Will- 
 iam Shakespeare, who depted this Life the 6th Day of 
 Augu : 1623, being of the age of 67 yeares. 
 
 libera tu mater, tu lac, vitamque dedisti ; 
 
 Vse mihi, pro tanto munere, saxa dabo. 
 Quam mallem, amoveat lapidem bonus angelus ore, 
 
 Exeat, ut Christi corpus, imago tua ; 
 Sed nil vota valent ; venias, cito, Christe, resurget, 
 
 Clausa licet tumulo, mater et astra petet." 
 
CHAPTEE XX. 
 
 THE poet's family AFTER HIS DEATH 
 
 The Halls, who were the executors and the chief 
 legatees of Shakespeare's will, made New Place their 
 residence soon after his death. In the Vestry notes 
 of October, 1617, Dr. Hall is mentioned as living in 
 the Chapel Street Ward ; and in a town record dated 
 Pebruary 3d, 1617-18, he is alluded to as "Mr. 
 Hall at Newplace." He gained a high reputation 
 as a practitioner, his advice being sought far and 
 wide. He was summoned several times to attend 
 the Earl and Countess of Northampton at Ludlow 
 Castle, more than forty miles off — no trifling jour- 
 ney in those days. We learn a good deal about his 
 medical practice from a book concerning it, pub- 
 lished in London in 1657, and entitled, "Select 
 Observations on English Bodies, or Cuxes both 
 Empericall and Historicall performed upon very 
 eminent Persons in desperate Diseases, first written 
 in Latine by Mr. John Hall, physician, living at 
 Stratford-upon-Avon in Warwickshire, where he 
 was very famous, as also in the counties adjacent, 
 as appeares by these Observations drawn out of sev- 
 
 480 
 
The Poet's Family after His Death 481 
 
 erall hundreds of his as choysest; now put into 
 English, for common benefit by James Cooke, prac- 
 titioner in Physick and Cliirurgery." A second 
 edition appeared in 1679, re-issued in 1683 with 
 merely a new title-page. In the original small 
 octavo manuscript used by Cooke much, of the 
 Latin is obscurely abbreviated, and some of 
 the translations appear to be paraphrased. The 
 cases were selected from a large number of pre- 
 vious notes, and being mostly undated, without 
 a chronological arrangement, it is impossible to be 
 certain that some of them are not to be referred 
 to the time of the poet. The earliest one to which a 
 date can be assigned seems to be that of Lord Comp- 
 ton, who was attended by Hall previously to his 
 lordship's departure with the King for Scotland in 
 March, 1617. Hall was evidently held in much 
 esteem by the Northampton family, whom he at- 
 tended at Compton Wynyates as well as at Ludlow. 
 Dr. John Bird, in his Prolusions (1657), says of 
 him : " The learned author lived in our own times, 
 and in the county of Warwick, where he practised 
 many years, and in great fame for his skill, far and 
 near. Those who seemed highly to esteem him, 
 and whom, by Grod's blessing, he wrought those 
 cures upon, you shall find to be, among others, per- 
 sons noble, rich, and learned. And this I take to be 
 a great sign of his ability, that such who spare not 
 for cost, and they who have more than ordinary 
 understanding, nay such as hated him for his relig- 
 
482 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 ion, often made use of him." He was an earnest 
 Puritan, and interested himself in all that related 
 to the services of the parish church, to which he 
 presented a costly new pulpit. He was exceedingly 
 intimate with the Rev. Thomas Wilson, the vicar, 
 "a thorough-going Puritan, who was accused of 
 holding conventicles, and of having so little eccle- 
 siological feeling that he allowed his swine and 
 poultry to desecrate the interior of the Guild 
 Chapel." They were such great friends that the 
 vicarial courts were sometimes held at New Place. 
 Of Hall's religious sincerity we may form an opinion 
 from a memorandum written after his recovery 
 from a serious illness in 1632: "Thou, Lord, 
 which hast the power of life and death, and drawest 
 from the gates of death, I confesse without any art 
 or counsell of man, but only from thy goodnesse 
 and clemency, thou hast saved me from the bitter 
 and deadly symptomes of a deadly fever, beyond the 
 expectation of all about me, restoring me, as it 
 were, from the very jaws of death to former health, 
 for which I praise Thy name, most Mercif ull God, 
 and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, praying thee 
 to give me a most thankfuU heart for this great 
 favour, for which I have cause to admire thee." 
 
 He died on the 25th of November, 1635, the " ring- 
 ing of the great bell " attending his obsequies in the 
 chancel of the parish church on the following day. 
 Eavour was shown in the permission to bury him 
 there, his share of the tithe-lease having been dis- 
 
The Poet's Family after His Death 483 
 
 posed of in 1624. The concession was perhaps due 
 to the influence of his son-in-law, Thomas Nash, 
 who was one of the tithe-owners. 
 
 The will of Dr. Hall is short and quaint, as 
 quoted by Malone : " The last Will and Testament 
 nuncupative of John Hall of Stratford-upon-Avon, 
 in the county of Warwick, Gent., made and deliv- 
 ered the five and twentieth of November, 1635, 7m- 
 primis, I give unto my daughter Nash my house in 
 Acton. Item, I give unto my daughter Nash my 
 meadow. Item, I give my goods and money unto 
 my wife and my daughter Nash to be equally di- 
 vided betwixt them. Item, concerning my study of 
 books, I leave them, said he, to you, my son Nash, 
 to dispose of them as you see good. As for my 
 manuscripts, I would have given them to Mr. Boles 
 if he had been here, but forasmuch as he is not 
 here present, you may, son Nash, burn them, or do 
 with them what you please." 
 
 The "books" may have included any that the 
 poet had at New Place, but we have no reason to 
 suppose that there were many of these. 
 
 The inscription on Hall's tombstone is as fol- 
 lows : — 
 
 "Heere lyeth the body of John Hall, Gent.: Hee 
 marr : Svsanna the daughter and coheire of Will : Shake- 
 speare, Gent. Hee deceased Nove^25, A° 1635, aged 60. 
 
 Hallius hie situs est, medica celeberrimus arte ; 
 Expectans regni gaudia Iseta Dei ; 
 
484 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Dignus erat meritis, qui Nestora vinceret annis ; 
 
 In terris omnes sed rapit sequa dies ; 
 Ne tumulo quid desit, adest fidissima coniux, 
 
 Et vitee comitem nunc quoque mortis habet." 
 
 Of Susanna Hall we get one interesting personal 
 glimpse after her husband's death. About the year 
 1642, a surgeon named James Cooke (see page 481 
 above), attending in his professional capacity on a 
 detachment of soldiers stationed at Stratford, was 
 invited to New Place to examine the books which 
 the doctor had left behind him. " After a view of 
 them," he observes, "Mrs. Hall told me she had 
 some books left by one that professed physic with 
 her husband for some money ; — I told her, if I 
 liked them, I would give her the money again ; — ■ 
 she brought them forth, amongst which there was 
 this [the medical case-book], with another of the 
 author's, both intended for the press; — I, being 
 acquainted with Mr. Hall's hand, told her that one 
 or two of them were her husband's, and showed 
 them her ; -:- she denied ; I affirmed, till I perceived 
 she began to be offended ; — at last I returned her 
 the money." As we have seen, he afterwards trans- 
 lated and published the book. It is curious that 
 she should not have been sufficiently acquainted 
 with Hall's hand-writing to know that the manu- 
 script was his. She herself was able to write, at 
 least to the extent of affixing her signature to a 
 legal document. 
 
 Mrs. Hall died on the 11th of July, 1649, and her 
 
The Poet's Family after His Death 485 
 
 grave is beside that of her husband in the chancel, 
 inscribed thus : — 
 
 " Heere lyeth the body of Susanna wife to lohn Hall, 
 gent : the daughter of WilUam Shakespeare, gent : shea 
 deceased the 11th of luly, A" 1649, aged 66. 
 
 Witty above her sexe, but that's not all, 
 Wise to salvation was good Mistris Hall ; 
 Something of Shakespere was in that, but this 
 Wholy of him with whom she's now in blisse. 
 Then, Passenger, ha'st ne're a teare 
 
 To weepe with her that wept with all, 
 That wept, yet set her selfe to chere 
 
 Them up with comforts cordiall. 
 Her love shall live, her mercy spread, 
 When thou ha'st nere a teare to shed." 
 
 The inscription was erased about the year 1707, 
 giving place to the memorial of a person named 
 Watts; but having been preserved by Dugdale, it 
 was restored in 1836. 
 
 Elizabeth Hall (baptized February 21st, 1608) was 
 twice married. Her first husband, Thomas Nash 
 (to whom she was married April 22, 1626), was, a 
 respectable inhabitant of Stratford, and had been a 
 student of Lincoln's Inn, London. He was the eld- 
 est son of Anthony Nash of Welcombe, to whom the 
 poet in his will gave 26s. M., and the same sum to 
 his brother, John Nash, to "buy them ringes." 
 Thomas Nash was fourteen years older than his 
 wife, having been baptised at Stratford, June 20th, 
 
486 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 1593. They had no children. He died April 4th, 
 1647, and was buried in the chancel of the parish 
 church. Two years later (June 5th, 1649) his 
 widow married John Barnard (or Bernard), Esquire, 
 of Abington Manor, near Northampton. The mar- 
 riage took place at Billesley, about three miles from 
 Stratford. No children were born to them ; and 
 Lady Barnard (her husband having been knighted 
 by Charles II., November 25th, 1661) died and was 
 buried at Abington, February 17th, 1669. No monu- 
 ment of any kind records the memory of this last 
 descendant of the poet. 
 
 In the month of July, 1643, when Mrs. Hall was 
 in possession of New Place, Queen Henrietta Maria 
 was entertained there in the course of her trium- 
 phant march from Newark to Keinton. This fact, 
 which there is no reason to dispute, rests upon a 
 tradition told by Sir Hugh Clopton to Theobald, 
 according to whom the Queen " kept her Court for 
 three weeks in New Place." She was, however, at 
 Stratford only three days, arriving there on July 
 11th with upwards of two thousand foot and a thou- 
 sand horse, about a hundred wagons and a train of 
 artillery. 
 
 In April, 1647, at the very time of her husband's 
 death, Mrs. Nash had soldiers quartered upon her 
 at New Place, one of whom was implicated in deer- 
 poaching from the park of Sir Greville Verney, 
 which occurred on the 30th of April. 
 
 Thomas Nash was buried in the chancel of the 
 
The Poet's Family after His Death 487 
 
 cliurcli at Stratford, with the Shakespeares, and his 
 gravestone bears this inscription : — 
 
 " Heere resteth the body of Thomas Nashe, esq. He 
 mar. Elizabeth, the daug : and heire of lohn Halle, gent. 
 He died Aprill 4, A. 1647, aged 53. 
 
 Fata manent omnes, hunc non virtute carentem, 
 
 Vt neque divitiis, abstulit atra dies, 
 Abstulit, at ref eret lux ultima ; siste, viator, 
 
 Si peritura paras per male parta peris. " 
 
 How long his widow continued to reside at New 
 Place after her marriage to John Barnard we do 
 not know ; but the mansion is mentioned as in his 
 tenure in 1652. His usual place of residence dur- 
 ing the latter years of their lives was at Abington, 
 where they both died. 
 
 Lady Barnard made her will at Abington, in 
 which she directs that after the death of her hus- 
 band New Place shall be sold to the best bidder, the 
 first offer of it being made to Edward Nash. As he 
 did not purchase it, it was sold to Sir Edward 
 Walker, who had been Secretary of War to Charles 
 I. and afterwards Garter King at Arms. On his 
 death in 1677 he devised it to his daughter Bar- 
 bara, wife of Sir John Clopton, for her life, after 
 which it was to go to his eldest grandson, Edward 
 Clopton. Barbara died in 1692, when the estate 
 came into the possession of Edward Clopton. In 
 November, 1698, he transferred it to his father. Sir 
 
488 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Jolin Clopton, who soon afterward demolished the 
 original mansion and built a new one on a some- 
 what different plan. This house, when finished 
 in 1703, was occupied by Hugh Clopton, another 
 son of Sir John. He died in 1751, and New Place 
 was then bought by the Eev. Francis Gastrell, who 
 pulled down the house in 1759, on account of a 
 quarrel he had had with the corporation about poor 
 rates. 
 
 There is a well-authenticated tradition that Shake- 
 speare had planted with his own hands in the gar- 
 den of JSTew Place the first mulberry-tree that had 
 ever been brought to Stratford. This was probably 
 in the spring of 1609, when a Frenchman named Ver- 
 ton distributed a large number of young mulberry- 
 trees in the midland counties. He did this by the 
 order of James I., who encouraged the cultivation 
 of the tree, in the hope that silk might become a 
 staple product of the country. 
 
 Gastrell cut the mulberry-tree down in 1758, to 
 the great indignation of Stratford folk. The late 
 E. B. Wheler was told by his father that, when a 
 boy, he assisted in breaking the clergyman's win- 
 dows in revenge for the destruction of the tree. 
 Tradition says that he cut it down because he was 
 annoyed by the number of travellers who came to 
 see it; but Halliwell-Phillipps suggests that he 
 may have had a better reason for the act. " Several 
 accounts agree in stating that it had attained a 
 great magnitude with overhanging boughs, the 
 
The Poet's Family after His Death 489 
 
 trunk being in a state of decay, and indeed it is 
 most probable that a tree of a century and a half's 
 growth would have been of a very considerable size, 
 the mould of Stratford being peculiarly favourable 
 to the luxuriant growth of the mulberry. If 
 planted at all near the house, its boughs would cer- 
 tainly have overshadowed some of the rooms at the 
 back. Davies, in his Life of Garrick, the jBrst edi- 
 tion of which appeared in 1780, expressly asserts 
 that 'the mulberry-tree planted by the poet's own 
 hand became an object of dislike to this tasteless 
 owner of it because it overshadowed his window, 
 and rendered the house, as he thought, subject to 
 damps and moisture.' Here is one plausible reason 
 given for the removal, and the evidences of decay 
 may have been another. It would seem, at all 
 events, that he was not indifferent to the poetical 
 association, for that he kept relics of it in his own 
 hands may be inferred from his widow's having 
 presented one to the Lichfield Museum. In a cata- 
 logue of that museum (1786) is the following entry : 
 ' An horizontal section of the stock of the mulberry- 
 tree planted by Shakespear at Stratford-upon-Avon ; 
 this curiosity was presented to the museum by Mrs. 
 Gastrel, August 19th, 1778.' " 
 
 The large mulberry-tree now standing in the 
 grounds of New Place is said to be a lineal descend- 
 ant of the one planted by Shakespeare. 
 
 It is absolutely certain that Lady Barnard was 
 the last surviving descendant of the poet, though at 
 
490 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 one time and another persons have claimed to be 
 directly descended from him. His sister Joan, who 
 married William Hart (see page 460 above) had four 
 children, only one of whom, Thomas Hart, married 
 and had offspring, and their descendants have been 
 traced by French (Genealogica Shakespeareana) 
 down to the present time. None of the other chil- 
 dren of John Shakespeare are certainly known to 
 have had issue ; and Gilbert (see page 458 above) 
 is the only one who has been suspected of having 
 any. 
 
CHAPTEE XXI. 
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 The Early Quartos. — Before the publication 
 of the folio of 1623 seventeen of Shakespeare's plays 
 had appeared in quarto form at various times: 
 Michard II., Richard III, Romeo and Juliet, Love's 
 Labour's Lost, 1 Henry IV., 2 Henry IV., Henry 
 v.. The Merchant of Venice, A Midsummer-Night's 
 Dream, Much Ado About Nothing, Titus Andronicus, 
 The Merry Wives of Windsor, Hamlet, King Lear, 
 Troilus and Cressida, Pericles, and Othello; also 
 Venus and Adonis, Lucrece, The Sonnets (with A 
 Lover's Complaint^, and The Passionate Pilgrim, 
 a small portion of which was Shakespeare's. Of 
 these none but the Venus and Adonis and the 
 Lucrece were published by the author or with his 
 consent, all the others being piratical ventures. The 
 chronology of the quartos during the poet's life, or 
 to the year 1616, is as follows : — 
 
 Venus and Adonis was the earliest published work 
 of Shakespeare's, the first edition having appeared 
 in 1593. 
 
 In 1594, Titus Andronicus (according to Lang- 
 baine), Lucrece, and the second edition of Venus and 
 Adonis were published. 
 
 491 
 
492 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 ♦ 
 
 In 1596, the third edition of Venus and Adonis. 
 
 In 1597, the first editions of Romeo and Julietf 
 Richard II., and Richard III. 
 
 In 1598, the second editions of Lucrece, Richard 
 II., and Richard III, and the first of Lovers Labour's 
 Lost and 1 Henry IV. 
 
 In 1599, the fourth edition of Venus and Adonis, 
 the second of Romeo and Juliet and 1 Henry IV., 
 and the first of The Passionate Pilgrim. 
 
 In 1600, the fifth edition of Venus and Adonis ; 
 the third of Lucrece; the first and second of 2 
 Henry IV., A Midsummer-Nighth Dream., and The 
 Merchant of Venice ; the second of Titus Andronicus 
 and The Passionate Pilgrim ; and the first of Henry 
 V. and Miich Ado About Nothi7ig. 
 
 In 1601, The Phoenix and the Turtle appeared in 
 Chester's Love's Martyr. 
 
 In 1602, the sixth and seventh editions of Venus 
 and Adonis, the third of Richard III, the second 
 of Henry V., and the first of The Merry Wives of 
 Windsor. 
 
 In 1603, the first edition of Hamlet. 
 
 In 1604, the third of 1 Henry IV. and the second 
 of Hamlet. 
 
 In 1605, the fourth of Richard III. and the third 
 of Hamlet. 
 
 In 1607, the fourth edition of Lucrece. 
 
 In 1608, the fourth edition of 1 Henry IV., the 
 third of Richard II. and Henry V., and the first 
 and second of King Lear. 
 
Bibliography 493 
 
 In 1609, the third and fourth editions of Romeo 
 and Juliet (undated, but probably belonging to this 
 year) ; the first and second of Troilus and Cressida 
 and Pericles ; and the first of the Sonnets (includ- 
 ing A Lover's CoiwplamC). 
 
 In 1611, the fourth edition of Hamlet, and the 
 third of Titus Andronicus and Pericles. 
 
 In 1612, the fifth edition of Bichard III. and the 
 third of The Passionate Pilgrim. 
 
 In 1613, the fifth edition of 1 Henry IV. 
 
 In 1615, the fourth edition of Bichard II. 
 
 In 1616, the fifth edition of Lucrece. 
 
 After the death of Shakespeare the following 
 quartos were published before the folio appeared : — 
 
 In 1617, the eighth edition of Venus and Adonis. 
 
 In 1619, the fourth edition of Pericles and the 
 second of The Merry Wives of Windsor. 
 
 In 1620, the ninth edition of Venus and Adonis. 
 
 In 1622, the sixth edition of Bichard III. and 
 1 Henry IV. and the first of Othello. 
 
 The Four Folios. — The folio of 1623 was nom- 
 inally edited by John Heming and Henry Condell, 
 two of Shakespeare's friends and fellow-actors, and 
 was brought out by a syndicate of five publishers 
 and printers, William and Isaac Jaggard, William 
 Aspley, John Smethwick, and Edward Blount. The 
 Jaggards were printers, the others publishers or 
 booksellers. William Jaggard had printed The 
 Passionate Pilgrim in 1599. 
 
494 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 The folio is a volume of 906 pages, including the 
 page facing the title and occupied by Ben Jonson's 
 verses in praise of the portrait of Shakespeare on 
 the title-page. It contains thirty-six of the thirty- 
 seven plays commonly ascribed to Shakespeare {Peri- 
 cles being omitted), arranged, as in the majority of 
 modern editions, under the heads of "Comedies," 
 "Histories," and "Tragedies." These three divi- 
 sions are paged separately, but have no special 
 headings, except in the table of contents, in which 
 Troihis and Cressida is omitted. 
 
 Of the thirty-six plays in the volume it will be 
 seen that only sixteen had been already published 
 in quarto. The other twenty, including many of 
 the best works of Shakespeare, were these: The 
 Tempest, The Two Gentlemen of Verona, Measure 
 for Measure, The Comedy of Errors, As You Lihe 
 It, All '5 Well That Ends Well, Twelfth Night, The 
 Taming of the Shrew, The Winter's Tale, King John, 
 the three Parts of Henry VI., Henry VIII, Corio- 
 lanus, Timon of Athens, Julius Ccesar, Macbeth, 
 Antony and Cleopatra, and Cymbeline. 
 
 The typographical execution of the volume de- 
 mands particular attention, on account of the con- 
 fused and contradictory descriptions of it given by 
 some of the editors and commentators and the use 
 that the Baconians have made of it. 
 
 According to Donnelly and the Baconians gen- 
 erally, the folio was edited by Bacon, being a collec- 
 tion of his plays carefully revised, corrected, and 
 
Bibliography 495 
 
 put into the shape in which he desired to hand 
 them down to posterity. 
 
 Shakespearian critics, on the other hand, assume 
 that the folio is just what it purports to be — a 
 collection of the plays supposed to be written by 
 William Shakespeare, made seven years after his 
 death by two of his fellow-actors, who had no skill 
 or experience in editing, and whose share in bring- 
 ing out the book appears to have been limited to 
 putting into the hands of the publishers the best 
 copies of the plays they could get ; these being 
 partly manuscripts used in the theatre, and partly 
 the earlier quarto editions of single plays, which 
 had also been used by the actors in learning their 
 parts. These critics believe that internal evidence 
 shows, beyond the possibility of doubt, that the 
 plays in the folio could not have been carefully re- 
 vised or seen through the press by any person who 
 had had experience in editing, printing, or publish- 
 ing. That Francis Bacon could have edited them 
 or supervised their publication is inconceivable — 
 except to a fool or a Baconian. 
 
 The typographical execution of the volume, ac- 
 cording to Collier (as quoted by Donnelly) "does 
 credit to the age," being " on the whole, remarkably 
 accurate." He adds : " So desirous were the editors 
 and printers of correctness that they introduced 
 changes for the better even while the sheets were 
 in progress through the press." These corrections, 
 however, are few and far between, and they are 
 
49 6 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 mostly of such palpable errors of the type as might 
 catch the eye of the printer while working off the 
 sheets. It should be understood, moreover, that 
 Collier, like other Shakespeare editors, assumes 
 that the folio had no editing worthy the name, and 
 that the "copy" furnished to the printers was 
 mutilated manuscripts and poorly-printed quarto 
 editions used in the theatre. The typographical 
 faults and defects of the volume were due to the 
 "copy" rather than to the printer. 
 
 Craik, in his English of Shakespeare, says : " As a 
 typographical production it is better executed than 
 the common run of the English popular printing of 
 that date. It is rather superior, for instance, in 
 point of appearance, and very decidedly in correct- 
 ness, to the second folio, produced nine years later. 
 Nevertheless, it is obviously, to the most cursory 
 inspection, very far from what would now be called 
 even a tolerably-printed book. There is probably 
 not a page in it which is not disfigured by many 
 minute inaccuracies and irregularities, such as never 
 appear in modern printing. The punctuation is 
 throughout rude and negligent, even where it is not 
 palpably blundering. The most elementary pro- 
 prieties of the metrical arrangement are violated in 
 innumerable passages. In some places the verse is 
 printed as plain prose ; elsewhere prose is ignorantly 
 and ludicrously exhibited in the guise of verse. 
 Indisputable and undisputed errors are of frequent 
 occurrence, so gross that it is impossible they could 
 
Bibliography 497 
 
 have been passed over, at any rate in such numbers, 
 if the proof-sheets had undergone any systematic 
 revision by a qualified person, however rapid. They 
 were probably read in the printing-office, with more 
 or less attention, when there was time, and often, 
 when there was any hurry or pressure, sent to press 
 with little or no examination. Everything betokens 
 that editor or editing of the volume, in any proper 
 or distinctive sense, there could have been none. 
 The only editor was manifestly the head workman 
 in the printing-office." 
 
 Craik goes on to state some of the evidences 
 which a " closer inspection " reveals that the volume 
 not only had no proper editing, but was put in type 
 from imperfect "copy" obtained from the theatre. 
 There are errors which cannot " be sufficiently ac- 
 counted for as the natural mistakes of the com- 
 positor," and which " can only be explained on the 
 supposition that he had been left to depend upon a 
 manuscript which was imperfect, or which could not 
 be read." It is a significant fact that " deformities 
 of this kind are apt to be found accumulated at one 
 place ; there are, as it were, nests or eruptions of 
 them; they run into constellations; showing that 
 the manuscript had there got torn or soiled, or 
 that the printer had been obliged to supply what 
 was wanting in the best way he could, by his own 
 invention or conjectural ingenuity." ^ 
 
 iln an article on "The Text of Shakespeare" in The 
 North British Beview for February, 1854, Craik has shown 
 
498 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 But the case of the folio is in some respects even 
 worse than Craik makes it out. He says, for ex- 
 ample, that "in one instance at least we have 
 actually the names of the actors by whom the play 
 was 'performed prefixed to their portions of the 
 dialogue, instead of those of the dramatis personce ; " 
 and that this " shows very clearly the text of the 
 play in which it occurs (Much Ado About Nothing) 
 to have been taken from the playhouse copy, or 
 what is called the prompter's book." In this play, 
 a stage direction in ii. 3 reads thus in the folio: 
 " Enter Prince, Leonato, Claudio, and lacke Wilson.'' 
 Jack Wilson was evidently the singer who took the 
 part of Balthasar. Again, in iv. 2, we find " Kemp " 
 nine times and " KemP three times prefixed to Dog- 
 berry's speeches, and " Cowley " twice and " Couley " 
 once to the speeches of Verges. William Kemp (see 
 page 351) and Eichard Ccwley are known to have 
 been actors of the time in London. 
 
 There are other instances of the kind apparently 
 not known to Craik, In 3 Henry VI., i. 2, we find, 
 " Enter Gabriel,^' instead of " Enter Messenger,'' and 
 /' Gabriel" is the prefix to the speech that follows. 
 Again, in iii. 1, of the same play, we read "Enter 
 Sinklo and Humfrey, with Crossebowes in their 
 hands,'' where the modern editions have "Enter 
 
 that the number of readings in the folio which " must be 
 admitted to be clearly wrong, or in the highest degree sus- 
 picious, probably amounts to not less than twenty on a page, 
 or about twenty thousand in the whole volume." 
 
Bibliography 499 
 
 two Keepers,^^ etc. ; and in the dialogue following 
 we have " Sink." five times, " Sinklo " twice, and 
 "Sin.'' once for the 1st Keeper, and ''Hum.'' eight 
 times for the 2d Keeper. The same Sinklo appears 
 also in The Taming of the Shrew, scene 1 of induc- 
 tion, " Sincklo " being the prefix to the speech of 
 one of the Players (" I think 'twas Soto," etc.). The 
 1600 Quarto of 2 Henry IV. has also, in v. 4, " Enter 
 Sincklo and three or fours officers." He was evidently 
 an actor of subordinate parts, and nothing else is 
 known of him except that he played in The Seven 
 Deadly Sins and in The Malcontent in 1604. In 
 the Midsummer-Night's Dream, v. 1, the folio has 
 " Tawyer ivith a Truinpet before them " where the 
 actors in the clowns' interlude first enter. Collier, 
 Grant White, Dyce, and others suspected Tawyer 
 to be the name of the actor who filled the part of 
 " presenter " and introduced the characters of the 
 play ; and it has been proved that they were right. 
 There is another class of irregularities in the folio 
 which I do not remember to have seen classified, 
 though the separate facts are referred to by many 
 editors. The Tempest, the first play in the volume, 
 is divided throughout into acts and scenes. We 
 have " Actus primus, Scena prima," " Scena Se- 
 cunda," "Actus Secundus. Sccena Prima," and so on 
 to the end. The next three plays. The Two Gentle- 
 men of Verona, The Merry Wives of Windsor, and 
 Measure for Measiire, are similarly divided. Then 
 come five plays divided only into acts, though the 
 
500 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 first heading in two of them is " Actus primus, Scena 
 prima " — The Comedy of Errors, Much Ado, Love's 
 Labour's Lost, A Midsummer - Night' s DreaTYi, and 
 The Merchant of Venice. As You Like It, which 
 follows, has acts and scenes. In The Taming of 
 the Shrew, the induction is not marked, the play 
 beginning with " Actios primus. Scoena Prima." 
 The next heading is ^^ Actus Tertia" [sic'\ in the 
 proper place ; and further on we find " Actus Quar- 
 tus. Scena Prima," and ^^ Actus Quintus." All 's 
 Well is divided only into acts; The Winte7'''s Tale 
 into acts and scenes. The "Histories" are all 
 divided in full, except Henry V. (acts), 1 Henry VI. 
 (decidedly " mixed "), 2 Henry VI. and 3 Henry VI. 
 (not divided at all). In 1 Henry VI., acts i. and ii. 
 are not divided into scenes; act iii. is rightly 
 divided ; " Actus Quartus. Scena prima." covers 
 the first four scenes of act iv. ; " Scena secunda " 
 corresponds to scene 1 of act v. ; " Scoena Tertia " 
 includes scenes 2, 3, and 4 ; and only the fifth scene 
 is put under the heading " Actus Quintus." 
 
 Of the " Tragedies," Coriolanus, Titus Andronicus, 
 and Julius Ccesar are divided only into acts ; Mac- 
 beth, Lear, Othello, and Cymbeline, into acts and 
 scenes; Troilus and Cressida, Romeo and Juliet, 
 Timon of Athens, and Antony and Cleopatra, into 
 neither. In Hamlet, three scenes of act i. and two 
 of act ii. are marked, the remainder of the play 
 having no division whatever. 
 
 The only plays in the folio which have lists of 
 
Bibliography 501 
 
 dramatis personcB (in every instance at the end) are 
 The Tempest, The Ttvo Gentlemen of Verona, Meas- 
 icre for Measure, The Winter's Tale, 2 Henry IV., 
 Timon of Athens, and Othello. In 2 Henry IV and 
 Timon a full page, with ornamental headpiece and 
 tailpiece, is given to this list of "The Actors 
 Names." The omission in the twenty-nine other 
 plays cannot be due to want of space, as an exam- 
 ination of the book will show. In several instances 
 an entire page is left blank at the end of a play. 
 
 The wretched editing — or want of editing — in 
 the folio is also shown in the retention of mat- 
 ter for which the author had substituted a revised 
 version. We can easily see how this might result 
 from the use of old stage manuscripts for " copy " 
 in the printing-office. The revised passages were ' 
 inserted in the manuscript, but the original form 
 was allowed to remain. It may have been retained 
 for the benefit of an actor who had already learned 
 it, the later and longer version being the one which 
 a new actor would learn. The two may have been 
 distinguished by arbitrary marks in the margin, in- 
 telligible to the actors, but liable to be overlooked 
 or misinterpreted by the compositor. 
 
 A notable example of such duplication of matter 
 occurs in Love's Labour's Lost, iv. 3 (see page 163 
 above). In this instance the blunder of the com- 
 positor was committed in " setting up " the quarto 
 of 1598, which, as the repetition of sundry typo- 
 graphical errors proves, was used as "copy" for 
 
502 ' Life of Shakespeare 
 
 the folio. The title-page of the quarto describes 
 the play as " newly corrected and augmented," and 
 there are many indications of revision besides the 
 one mentioned. 
 
 Again, in the last scene of Timon of Athens, the 
 epitaph of the misanthrope reads thus (except in 
 spelling) in the folio : — 
 
 " Here lies a wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft ; 
 Seek not my name. A plague consume you wicked 
 
 caitiffs left I 
 Here lie I, Timon, who, alive, all living men did hate ; 
 Pass by and curse thy fill, but pass and stay not here thy 
 
 gait." 
 
 We have here the two epitaphs given in North's 
 Plutarch as follows : — 
 
 ''Now it chanced so, that the sea getting in, it 
 compassed his tomb round about, that no man could 
 come to it; and upon the same was written this 
 epitaph : — 
 
 " ' Here lies a wretched corse, of wretched soul bereft : 
 Seek not my name : a plague consume you wicked 
 wretches left.' 
 
 It is reported that Timon himself when he lived 
 made this epitaph; for that which is commonly 
 rehearsed was not his, but made by the poet Calli- 
 machus : — 
 
 « ' Here lie I, Timon, who alive all living men did hate : 
 Pass by and curse thy fill ; but pass, and stay not here thy 
 gait.' " 
 
Bibliography 503 
 
 Shakespeare cannot have meant to use both epitaphs. 
 He seems to have written both in the manuscript 
 while hesitating between them, and afterwards to 
 have neglected to strike one out. 
 
 The printing of words and phrases from foreign 
 languages in the folio indicates wretched editing or 
 proof-reading, or both. Latin is given, with tolerable 
 accuracy, though we meet with cruces like that in 
 Love's Labozcr's Lost, i. 1, where Holofernes is rep- 
 resented as saying : " Borne boon for boon j^rescian, a 
 little scratcht, 'twil serue." This is in reply to 
 Nathaniel's " Laus cleo, bene intelUgo," which Theo- 
 bald conjectures to be misprinted for " Laus deo, bone, 
 intelligo ; " with the response : " Bone ! — bone for 
 bene ! Priscian a little scratched ; 'twill serve ; " 
 that is, Holofernes takes Nathaniel's bone (which he 
 means to be the vocative of the adjective) as a slip 
 for bene, the adverb — which is natural enough, 
 bene intelligo being a common phrase. Some edi- 
 tors, however, retain the bene intelligo in the pre- 
 ceding speech, and put the reply of Holofernes into 
 French, thus : " Bon, bon, fort bon, Priscian ! " etc. 
 But the pedant does not elsewhere use French, and 
 Latin would be more natural here. 
 
 French, Spanish, and Italian are almost invari- 
 ably misprinted in the folio, sometimes ridiculously 
 so. In the Merry Wives, for instance (i. 4), '■Hm 
 boitier vert " appears as " unhoyteene vert ; " and 
 '■'■ Ma foi, il fait fort chaud : je m^envais a la cotir — 
 la grajide affaire " (Rowe's emendation), as " maifoy, 
 
504 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 il fait fort chando, Je man voi a le Court la Grand 
 affaires;'^ and ^^un g argon" (v. 5) as ^^oon gar- 
 soon." In Henry V. (iv. 5) " Seigneur ! le 
 jour est perdu, tout est perdu ! " is perverted into 
 " sigueur le iour et perdia, toute et perdieP The 
 Italian capocchia of Troilus and Cressida (iv. 2) be- 
 comes chipoch^a ; " mercatante," in The Taming of 
 the Shrew (iv. 2), " marcantant ; " and in Lovers 
 Labour's Lost (iv. 2) " Venetia, Venetia, chi non ti vede 
 non tipretia" (as it appears in Howell's Letters and 
 in some modern editions, though, others give it some- 
 what differently) is rendered ^^vemchie, vencha, que 
 non te vnde, que non te per?'eche," which exactly fol- 
 lows the quarto of 1598, showing that neither the 
 folio printer nor the editor or proof-reader made 
 any attempt to correct the fearful distortion of the 
 Venetian proverb in the earlier edition used as 
 " copy." Whether the " Fortuna delarguar " of 
 the same play (v. 2) is corrupt Spanish for fortuna 
 de la guerra, or del agua, or de la guarda, the editors 
 cannot decide ; but it is probably the first, though 
 it does not exactly suit the context. 
 
 It would take too much space to illustrate, even 
 in this brief way, all the faults and defects of the 
 folio, regarded solely from the printer's or proof- 
 reader's point of view, but the facts already given 
 are certainly enough to show that the book had no 
 editing worthy of the name. Heming and Condell 
 doubtless did the work as well as they could, but 
 not as Shakespeare, if he had lived, would have done 
 
Bibliography 505 
 
 it, or as Bacon, if the book had been his, would have 
 done it. 
 
 The folio contains a dedicatory letter addressed 
 thus : — 
 
 " To the Most NoMe and Incomparable Paire of Brethren. 
 William, Earle of Pembroke, &fc. Lord Chamberlaine to the 
 Kings most Excellent Maiesty. and Philip, Earle of Mont- 
 gomery, Sfc. Gentleman of his Maiesties Bed-Chamber. Both 
 Knights of the most Noble Order of the Garter, and our 
 singular good Lords." 
 
 The dedication is followed by the preface of the 
 player-editors, which is partly as follows : — 
 
 "It had bene a thing, we confesse, worthie to have 
 bene wished, that the Author himselfe had liv'd to have 
 set forth and overseen his owne writings; But since it 
 hath bin ordain'd otherwise, and he by death departed 
 from that right, we pray you do not envie his Friends, 
 the ofl&ce of their care, and paine, to have collected and 
 publish'd them ; and so to have publish'd them, as where 
 (before) you were abus'd with diverse stolne, and surrep- 
 titious copies, maimed, and deformed by the frauds and 
 stealthes of injurious impostors, that expos'd them : even 
 those, are now offer'd to your view cur'd, and perfect of 
 their limbes ; and all the rest, absolute in their numbers 
 as he conceived them. Who, as he was a happie imitator 
 of Nature, was a most gentle expresser of it. His mind 
 and hand went together : And what he thought, he uttered 
 with that easinesse, that wee have scarse received from 
 him a blot in his papers." 
 
5o6 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Next comes " The Names of the principal Actors 
 in all these Plays," twenty-six in number, headed 
 by "William Shakespeare" and "Eichard Bur- 
 badge." The editors, " John Hemmings " and 
 " Henry Condell," are also included in the list. 
 
 Then follow commendatory poems by Ben Jonson, 
 Leonard Digges, " I. M." (probably James Mabbe, a 
 fellow of Magdalen College, Oxford, described by 
 Anthony Wood as " a learned man, good author, and 
 a facetious conceited wit "), and Hugh Holland (a 
 Welshman, fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, 
 and author of some poor verse). 
 
 The second folio (1632) was a reprint of the first, 
 with few changes for the better except (as Prof. C. 
 Alphonso Smith, of the Louisiana State University, 
 has shown in the Leipsic Englische Studien for Dec. 
 1901) in syntactical corrections, the majority of 
 which "are to be found in the concord of subject 
 and predicate, and especially in the change of a 
 singular predicate into the plural." 
 
 The commendatory poems of the first folio are 
 reprinted, with three additional poems. The first, 
 which is anonymous, reads thus : — 
 
 " Upon the effigies of my ivorthy friend, the author, Master 
 William Shakespeare and his works. 
 
 Spectator, this Life's Shaddow is ; To see 
 The truer image and a livelier be 
 Turne Reader. But, observe his Comicke vaine, 
 Laugh, and proceed next to a Tragicke straine, 
 
Bibliography 507 
 
 Then weepe ; So when thou find'st two contraries, 
 Two different passions from thy rapt soule rise, 
 Say (who alone effect such wonders could) 
 Rare Shakespeare to the life thou dost behold." 
 
 The second is Milton's well-known "Epitaph on 
 the admirable dramatic poet, W. Shakespeare." 
 The third is a much longer piece (77 lines), of great 
 merit, " On worthy Master Shakespeare and his 
 poems," signed "The friendly admirer of his en- 
 dowments, I. M. S.," who has not been positively 
 identified. No poet or other person of that time 
 whose initials were I, M. S. is known who could 
 have written the lines. They have been ascribed 
 to Chapman, to "John Marston (Student)," to 
 " Jasper Mayne (Student)," and " John Milton 
 (Senior)," or "John Milton (Student)." It has 
 also been suggested that the initials stand for, " In 
 Memoriam Scriptoris." 
 
 The third folio, a reprint of the second with few 
 variations of any value or interest, was first pub- 
 lished in 1663. It was re-issued the next year with 
 this statement on the title-page: "Unto this im- 
 pression is added seven Playes never before printed 
 in folio, viz. : Pericles, Prince of Tyre. The London 
 Prodigall. The History of Thomas Ld. Crotmvell. 
 Sir John Oldcastle, Lord Cohham. The Puritan 
 Widow. A Yorkshire Tragedy. The Tragedy of 
 LocrineP Pericles (see page 454 above) is the only 
 one of these plays in which Shakespeare could have 
 had any hand. 
 
5o8 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 The fourth folio (1685) was a reprint of that of 
 1664 (including the seven plays just mentioned), 
 with the spelling somewhat modernized but no 
 other change. 
 
 Modern Editions. — After the publication of the 
 fourth folio in 1685 no collected edition of Shake- 
 speare's works appeared until 1709, when Nicholas 
 Rowe's, in six octavo volumes, was brought out. It 
 followed the text of the fourth folio, the plays being 
 arranged in the same order. The poems were not 
 included. A second edition was issued in 1714, in 
 eight volumes, and a ninth volume containing the 
 poems was added. Rowe made some corrections of 
 the text, and modernized the spelling and punctu- 
 ation, besides prefixing a list of dramatis personce to 
 each play. His Life of Shakespeare, which appeared 
 in this edition, has been described above (page 8). 
 
 Among other complete editions that are of any 
 critical value, the following may be named: A. 
 Pope's (6 vols., 1723-25 ; other eds. in 1728, 1735, 
 and 1768); Louis Theobald's (7 vols., 1733; other 
 eds. in 1740, 1752, etc.); Sir Thomas Hanmer's (6 
 vols., 1744); Bishop Warburton's (8 vols., 1747); 
 Dr. Samuel Johnson's (8 vols., 1765); Edward 
 Capell's (10 vols., 1768); George Steevens's revi- 
 sion of Johnson's ed. (10 vols., 1773 ; 2d ed. 1778) ; 
 Isaac Reed's revision of the preceding (10 vols., 
 1785); Edmund Malone's (10 vols., 1790); Stee- 
 vens's with Boydell's illustrations (9 vols., 1802 ; in 
 
Bibliography 509 
 
 parts, 1791-1802); Eeed's (first ed. with his name, 
 21 vols., 1803; 2d ed. 1813); Alexander Chalmers's 
 10 vols., 1805) ; the Variorum of 1821, edited by 
 James Boswell from a corrected copy left by Malone 
 (21 vols.) ; S. W. Singer's (10 vols., 1826) ; Charles 
 Knight's Pictorial ed. (8 vols., 1838-43); J. P. 
 Collier's (8 vols., 1842-44; 2d ed. 6 vols., 1858); 
 G. C. Verplanck's (3 vols., 1844-47) ; H. N. Hud- 
 son's (11 vols., 1851-56); J. 0. Halliwell's, after- 
 ward Halliwell-Phillipps's (16 vols, folio, 1853-65 ; 
 only 150 copies printed) ; Singer's 2d ed. (10 vols., 
 1856); R. Grant White's (12 vols., 1857-66); 
 Alexander Dyce's (6 vols., 1857; 2d ed. 9 vols., 
 1864-67 ; 3d ed. 9 vols., 1875) ; Howard Staunton's 
 (3 vols., 1858-60); the Cambridge ed., by W. G. 
 Clark and W. Aldis Wright (9 vols., 1863-66 ; 2d 
 ed., by W. A. Wright, 1891-93) ; Charles and Mary 
 Cowden-Clarke's ed. (3 vols., 1863-66); W. J. 
 Eolfe's (40 vols., 1870-83; Friendly ed. 20 vols., 
 1884); Horace Howard Furness's New Variorum 
 ed. (13 vols, issued, 1871-1901); Clarke and 
 Wright's Globe ed. (the standard for line-numbers, 
 1874) ; H. N. Hudson's Harvard ed. (20 vols., 1880- 
 81) ; E. G. White's Eiverside ed. (6 vols., 1883) ; 
 the Henry Irving ed., by Sir Henry Irving and F. 
 A. Marshall (8 vols., 1888-90) ; the Bankside ed., by 
 Appleton Morgan et al. (20 vols., including the 
 twenty plays of which early quartos exist, 1888-92) ; 
 the Temple ed., by Israel GoUancz (40 vols., 
 1894-96 ; reprinted later in 12 vols.) ; the Leopold 
 
5IO Life of Shakespeare 
 
 ed. (1 vol., 1877, with. Delius's text, and a biograph- 
 ical and critical introduction by F. J. Furnivall); 
 W. J. Craig's Oxford ed. (1 vol., 1894); C. H. Her- 
 ford's Eversley ed. (10 vols., 1899). 
 
 Editions of single plays and series of plays 
 (mostly for educational use) are too numerous to be 
 catalogued here. The Clarendon Press and Rugby 
 series, and Charles Wordsworth's Shakespeare's His- 
 torical Plays (3 vols., 1883), are noteworthy among 
 those which have some critical value. Shakespeare's 
 Comedies, illustrated by E. A. Abbey (4 vols., 1896), 
 deserves special commendation. 
 
 The Poems and Sonistets are included in most of 
 the recent standard editions. The iirst complete edi- 
 tion of both was issued in 1709 (see page 221 above). 
 An incomplete edition appeared in 1640 (page 221). 
 The Sonnets were first collected in 1609 (page 
 328). The best modern edition is Edward Dow- 
 den's larger ed. (1881). Another important one is 
 Thomas Tyler's (1890). G. Wyndham's Poems of 
 Shakespeare (1898) is also valuable. 
 
 The first complete American edition of the works 
 (with life, glossary, and notes by Dr. Johnson) was 
 published in 8 vols, in 1795-96, at Philadelphia. 
 The first Boston edition (including only the plays) 
 was in 8 vols., 1802-04. Three editions of this 
 appeared, each reset, stereotyping being then un- 
 known. An edition in 17 vols, was published at 
 Philadelphia in 1809, and one in 7 vols, (edited by 
 0. W. B. Peabody, though his name does not appear 
 
Bibliography 511 
 
 in it) in Boston in 1836 (reprints of Eeed's text 
 had been issued in 1813 and 1814). An edition of 
 the plays in 10 vols. (Reed's text) appeared in New 
 York in 1821, and again in 1824. The first Ameri- 
 can edition of the Spurious and Doubtful Plats 
 was published at New York, in 1848. 
 
 Life, Birthplace, etc. — S. Neil, Shakespeare, a 
 Critical Biograijhy (1861) ; Halliwell-Phillipps, Out- 
 lines of the Life of Shakespeare (7th ed. 1887) ; F. 
 G. Fleay, Life and Works of Shakespeare (1886) ; 
 D. W. Wilder, Life of Shakespeare (1893); T. S. 
 Baynes, Shakespeare Studies (1894) ; C. M. Ingle- 
 by, Shakespeare, the Man and the Book, parts i. 
 and ii. (1877-81) ; C. Knight, Biography of Shak- 
 spere (in Pictorial ed., but also published sepa- 
 rately); Gr. R. French, Shakespeareana Genealogica 
 (1869; on the Shakespeare and Arden families, 
 persons and places in Warwickshire mentioned by 
 Shakespeare, and characters in the historical plays) ; 
 T. F. Ordish, Early London Theatres (1894), and 
 Shakespeare's London (1897) ; G. W. Thornbury, 
 Shakespeare's England (1856); J. E. Wise, Shake- 
 speare, his Birthplace and its Neighbourhood (1861) ; 
 Karl Elze, Life of Shakespeare (English Translation, 
 1888) ; Sidney Lee, Stratford-on-Avon (1890) ; J. L. 
 Williams, Homes and Haunts of Shakespeare (su- 
 perbly illustrated, 1891-93); C. D. Warner, The 
 People for whom Shakespeare Wrote (1891) ; W. 
 Winter's Shakespeare's England (illustrated ed. 
 
512 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 1893); and Old Shrines and Ivy (1894); F. S. 
 Boas, Shakespeare and His Predecessors (1895) ; 
 A. W. Ward's History of English Dramatic Litera- 
 ture (revised ed. 1899) ; J. Walter's Shakespeare^ s 
 True Life (1890; copiously illustrated, but not 
 always trustworthy) ; W. J. Rolf e, Shakespeare the 
 Boy (1896); H, Snowden Ward's Shakespeareh 
 Town and Times (illustrated, 1896) ; John Leyland's 
 Shakespeare Country (illustrated, 1900) ; Sidney 
 Lee's Life of Shakespeare (1898; also in abridged 
 form, 1899); H. W. Mabie's William Shakespeare 
 (1901) ; Georg Brandes, William Shakespeare 
 (English translation, 1898 ; of unequal merit) ; 
 Mrs. C. C. Stopes, Shakespeare's Wartvickshii'e 
 Contemporaries (1897) and Shakespeare^ s Family 
 (1901). 
 
 Dictionaries and other Eeference Books. — 
 A. Schmidt, Shakespeare Lexicon (2d ed. 1886); 
 Dyce's Glossary (vol. ix. of ed. of Shakespeare pub- 
 lished separately); R. Nares, Glossary (revised ed. 
 1859); Charles and Mary Cowd en-Clarke, Shake- 
 speare Key (1879); J. Bartlett, Concordance to 
 Shakespeare (1895 ; includes both plays and poems, 
 and supersedes all earlier works of its class) ; Mrs. 
 H. H. Furness, Concordance to the Poems of Shake- 
 speare (1874 ; gives every instance of every word) ; 
 E. A. Abbott's Shakespearian Grammar (1873) ; W. 
 S. Walker's Shakespeare's Versification (1854) and 
 Critical Examination of Text of Shakespeare (1860) } 
 
Bibliography 513 
 
 A J. Ellis's Early English Pronunciation (part iii. 
 published separately); E. Dowden's Shakspere 
 Primer (1877 ; small, but invaluable), or his In- 
 troduction to Shakespeare (1894); The Shakespeare 
 Library (for the sources of the plays; revised ed. 
 6 vols., 1875) ; W. G. B. Stone, Shaksjyere's Holin- 
 shed (for English historical sources, 1896); W. W. 
 Skeat, Shakespeare's Plutarch (for sources of Roman 
 plays, 1875) ; L. Booth's facsimile reprint of Folio 
 of 1623 (1864), or H. Staunton's photo-lithographic 
 reproduction of the same (1866), and the Griggs 
 facsimiles of the early quartos, valuable for the 
 original texts (for twenty of the plays see also 
 Bankside ed. of Shakespeare) ; F. Douce, Illustra- 
 tions of Shaliespeare (1807; new ed. 1839); G. L. 
 Craikj The English of Shakespeare (American ed. by 
 W. J. Eolfe, 1867); H. P. Stokes, Chronological 
 Order of Shakespeare's Plays (1878); T. F. T. 
 Dyer, Folk-lore of Shakespeare (American ed. 1884) ; 
 H. N". EUacombe, Plant-lore of Shakespeare (1878; 
 new ed. 1896) ; J. E. Harting, Ornithology of Shake- 
 speare (1871) ; E. Phipson, Animal-lore of Shake- 
 speare (1883); D. H. Madden, The Diary of Master 
 William Silence (a " study of Shakespeare and Eliz- 
 abethan Sport," 1897) ; Lord Campbell, Shakespeare's 
 Legal Acquirements (1859); F. F. Heard, Shake- 
 speare as a Lawyer (1883) ; J. C. Bucknill, Medical 
 Knowledge of Shakespeare (1860); and Mad Folk 
 of Shakespeare (2d ed. 1867); C. Wordsworth, 
 Shakespeare's Knowledge of the Bible (3d ed. 1880); 
 
514 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 J. H. Morison, Great Poets as Religious Teachers 
 (1886); Shakespeare Sermons, preached at Stratford 
 (1901); W. A. Wright, Bible Word-book (2d ed. 
 1884; contains many illustrations from Shake- 
 speare); J. P. N orris, Portraits of Shakespeare 
 (1885; exhaustive); A. Roffe, Handbook of Shaken 
 speare Music (1875); fuller treatment in List of 
 Songs, etc., by Shakspere, set to Music, published by 
 New Shakspere Society, (1884); E. W. Naylor, 
 Shakespeare and Music (1896); L. C. Elson, Shake- 
 speare in Music (1901) ; S. Hartmann, Shakespeare 
 in Art (1901). The Papers of the Shakespeare 
 Society (1844-49) and the Transactions and other 
 publications of the New Shakspere Society (from 
 1874 onward) contain much valuable textual, crit- 
 ical, and illustrative matter. 
 
 Critical Commentaries. — S. T. Coleridge's 
 Notes on Shakespeare (in eds. of his works); Mrs. 
 Charlotte Lennox, Shakespeare Illustrated (the first 
 critical work on Shakespeare by an American; 
 3 vols., 1753-54) ; A. W. Schlegel, Lectures on 
 Dramatic Art (translated by Black, 1815 ; revised 
 by Morrison, 1876); Mrs. A. Jameson's Character- 
 istics of Women (1832; American ed. 1866), also 
 published with the title, Shakespeare Heroines; 
 N. Drake, Shakespeare and his Times (1817) ; Joseph 
 Hunter, New Illustrations of Shakespeare (1845) ; 
 H. Giles, Human Life in Shakespeare (1868); G. 
 El etcher, Studies of Shakespeare (1847) ; W. Haz- 
 
Bibliography ^15 
 
 litt, Characters of Shakespeare's Plays (1817; new 
 ed. by Bohn, with the Lectures on Age of Elizabeth, 
 1870) ; E. Dowden, Shakspere : his Mind and Art 
 (American ed. 1881) ; H. N. Hudson, Life, Art, and 
 Characters of Shakespeare (revised ed. 1882) ; E. G. 
 White, Shakespeare's Scholar (1854) and Studies in 
 Shakespeare (1886) ; J. Weiss, Wit, Humour, and 
 Shakespeare (1876) ; D. J. Snider, System of Shake- 
 speare's Dramas (1877) ; Lady Martin, Some of 
 Shakespeare's Female Characters (1884) ; L. Lewes, 
 Women of Shakespeare (1895) ; Mrs. F. A. Kemble, 
 Notes on Shakespeare's Plays (1882); E. G. Moul- 
 ton, Shakespeare as a Dramatic Artist (3d ed. 1893) ; 
 B. E. Warner, English History in the Plays of Shake- 
 speare (1894) ; B. Wendell, William Shakespeare 
 (1895) ; A. C. Swinburne, Study of Shakespeare 
 (1880) ; T. P. Courtenay, Commentaries on the His- 
 torical Plays of Shakespeare (1840) ; J. W. Hales, 
 Essays and Notes on Shakespeare (1892) ; B. Ten 
 Brink, Five Lectures on Shakespeare (1895) ; G. G. 
 Gervinus, Shakespeare Commentaries, translated by 
 F. E. Bunnett (new ed. 1875); H. Ulrici, Shake- 
 speare's Dramatic Art, translated by L. D. Schmitz 
 (1876) ; H. Corson, Introduction of Study to Shake- 
 speare (1899) ; T. E,. Lounsbury, Shakespeare as a 
 Dramatic Artist (1902) ; L. A. Sherman, What is 
 Shakespeare ? (1902). 
 
 Miscellanea. — R. Farmer, Essay on the Learn- 
 ing of Shakespeare (2d ed. 1767; several times re- 
 
^i6 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 printed) ; L. M. Griffiths, Evenings with Shahespere 
 (1889; very useful in Shakespeare reading-clubs); 
 Charles and Mary Lamb, Tales from Shakespeare 
 (many editions ; one with notes by W. J. Eolfe, 
 2 vols., 1890); Mary Cowden-Clarke, Girlhood of 
 Shakespeare'' s Heroines (best ed. 5 vols., 1891) ; 
 C. M. Ingleby et al., Shakespeare's Centurie of 
 Prayse (references to, Shakespeare between 1591 
 and 1693; 2d ed. 1879, published by New Shak- 
 spere Society); M. E,. Silsby, Tributes to Shake- 
 speare (1892); W. Andrews, Bygone Warivickshire 
 (1893); W. Black, Judith Shakespeare (1884; a 
 novel, but a careful study of the scene and the 
 times) ; J. Bennett, Master Skylark (1897) ; Imogen 
 Clark, Will Shakespeare's Little Lad (1897) ; C. E. 
 Phelps, Falstaffand Equity (1901); J. A. Symonds, 
 The Predecessors of Shakespeare (new ed. 1900) ; 
 E. J. Dunning, Genesis of Shakespeare's Art (1897) ; 
 J. J. Jusserand, The English Novel in the Time of 
 Shakespeare (1890), and Shakespeare in France under 
 the Ancien Regime (1899) ; F. G. Eleay, Biographical 
 Chronicle of the English Drama, 1559-1642 (1891) ; 
 W. H. Fleming, How to Study Shakespeare (2 vols. 
 1898, 1899), and Shakespeare's Plots (1902). 
 
 For the " Collier controversy " concerning the 
 emendations which J. P. Collier asserted that he 
 had found in a copy of the second (1632) folio, see 
 A. Dyce's Strictures on Collier's New Edition of 
 Shakespeare (1858); N. E. S. A. Hamilton's En- 
 quiry into the Genuineness of the Ms. Corrections in 
 
Bibliography 517 
 
 Collier's Shakespeare (1860) ; S. W. Singer's The 
 Text of Shakespeare Vindicated, etc. (1853); and 
 C. M. Ingleby's Complete View of the Shakespearian 
 Controversy (1861). 
 
 For the Baconian theory of the authorship of the 
 plays and poems, see W. H. Wyman's Bibliography 
 of the Bacon- Shakespeare Controversy (1884), and 
 supplements to the same in the magazine Shake- 
 speariana. The most important work on the Bacon- 
 ian side is N. Holmes's Authorship of Shakespeare 
 (3d ed. 2 vols., 1886; sufficiently answered by J. 
 Spedding's letter to the author, printed in the 
 appendix, pp. 612-618); and on the other side 
 Mrs. C. C. Stopes's The Bacon^Shakspere Question 
 Answered (2d ed. 1889) ; Charles Allen's Notes on 
 the Bacon- Shakespeare Question (1900 ; valuable also 
 for its discussion of Shakespeare's legal attain- 
 ments) ; Miss E. Marriott's Bacon or Shakespeare ? 
 (1899). 
 
 Bibliographies. — For these see Lowndes's Li- 
 brary Manual (Bohn's ed.); Franz Thiram's Shake- 
 speariana (1864 and 1871) ; the Encyclopedia 
 Britannica (9th ed.) ; and the British Museum Cat- 
 alogue, the Shakespeariana of which (3680 titles) 
 was published separately in 1897. The Catalogue 
 of the Barton Collection (Boston Public Library) 
 will also be found particularly useful. 
 
NOTES 
 
NOTES 
 
 Page 8. Betterton the actor. — Thomas Betterton was 
 born in Westminster in 1635, and appeared on the stage 
 at the Cockpit in Drury Lane in 1660. He attained to 
 great eminence in his profession, but lost the first collec- 
 tion of his well-earned savings through a commercial 
 enterprise in 1692. In 1700 he acted in Rowe's first 
 tragedy, which may have led to his acquaintance with 
 that dramatist. He died in London in April, 1710, hav- 
 ing nearly completed his seventy-fifth year. The precise 
 time of his visit to Stratford-on-Avon is unknown, but it 
 is not likely to have occurred in his declining years. 
 
 Page 22. Spenser's allusion The quotation is from 
 
 Colin Clout's Come Home Again (1594), and the entire 
 passage reads thus : 
 
 " And there, though last not least is Aetion, 
 A gentler shepheard may no where be found : 
 Whose Muse, full of high thoughts invention. 
 Doth like himself Heroically sound." 
 
 Some have doubted whether the reference is to Shake- 
 speare, but " no other heroic poet (that is, historical 
 dramatist, or chronicler in heroic verse) had a surname 
 of heroic sound." Other writers have similar allusions 
 to the poet's warlike name. Aetion is a Greek proper 
 name, borne by the father of Cypselus of Corinth and by 
 
 521 
 
522 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 two famous artists. It is derived from der6s, an eagle, 
 and is therefore appropriate to one of " high thoughts " 
 and heroic invention. 
 
 Page 39. Garrick's Jubilee. — This was a series of 
 entertainments at Stratford in 1769 devised and arranged 
 by Garrick, ostensibly to do honour to Shakespeare. 
 The opening of the celebration having been duly an- 
 nounced in early morn by a cannonade, the lady visitors 
 were serenaded in rotation by young men attired in 
 fancy costume, and Garrick was presented by the cor- 
 poration with a medal and a wand, both made from 
 relics of the famous mulberry-tree. Then there were 
 public feasts, more serenading, an oratorio at the church, 
 elaborate processions, a masquerade, balls, illuminations, 
 fireworks, horse-races, etc. Garrick also recited an ode 
 in praise of the dramatist in a large wooden theatre that 
 had been erected for the occasion on the Bancroft. 
 
 Page 40. Designs of an unpatriotic character. — The 
 allusion is to the rumour that Barnum wanted to buy the 
 Birthplace and remove it to this country. 
 
 Page 57. Advanced her Bear. — Alluding to the " bear 
 and ragged staff," the badge of the Earls of Warwick. 
 
 Pace 58. Milton's ^'looodnotes wild." — Grant White 
 and other critics who have found fault with this charac- 
 terization of Shakespeare appear to have forgotten that it 
 is his comedies, and especially the rural comedies (^As You 
 Like It, for example), that are referred to, and from the 
 point of view of L' Allegro, the cheerful man, who goes 
 to the theatre as on his morning walk, for innocent 
 recreation, not as a dramatic critic. 
 
 Mr. Edwin Reed says: "Milton was a Puritan, and 
 probably never soiled his fingers with a copy of these 
 wicked works ; " but Milton's familiarity with Shake- 
 
Notes 523 
 
 speare is proved by many passages in his poems which 
 are distinct echoes of the dramatist. That he knew and 
 admired Shakespeare's works is, moreover, clear from his 
 noble Epitaph, written some years earlier than L' Allegro 
 and first printed in the Shakespeare folio of 1632. 
 
 Page 94. The poaching tradition Whether this tradi- 
 tion had any foundation in fact or not, we have abundant 
 proof in even the earliest of Shakespeare's works that in 
 his youth, if not later, he had some experience of country 
 sports, such as hunting, hawking, coursing, fowling, and 
 the like. The famous description of the horse in Venus 
 und Adonis (259 fol.) shows his thorough knowledge of 
 the animal ; and the vivid sketch of hare-hunting in the 
 same poem (679 fol.) must have been based on actual 
 experience in the sport. Professor Baynes remarks : 
 *' Many of these sports were pursued by the local gentry 
 and the yeomen together ; and the poet, as the son of a 
 well-connected burgess of Stratford, who had recently 
 been mayor of the town and possessed estates in the 
 ■county, would be well entitled to share in them, while 
 his handsome presence and courteous bearing would be 
 likely to ensure him a hearty welcome. . . . However 
 this may be, it is clear from internal evidence that the 
 poet was practically familiar with the field sports of his 
 ■day." 
 
 His love for dogs and horses is illustrated by many 
 passages in his works. There was never a more graphic 
 description of hounds than he puts into the mouth of 
 Theseus in the Midsummer-Night's Dream (iv. 1. 108 
 fol.) : " My love shall hear the music of my hounds," 
 «tc. The talk of the hunters about the dogs in The 
 Taming of the Shrew (ind. i. 16 fol.) is in the same vein. 
 
 In The Merry Wives of Windsor (i. 1. 96 fol.) Page 
 
524 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 defends his greyhound against the criticisms of Slender, 
 and Shallow takes his part : — 
 
 " Slender. How does your fallow greyhound, sir ? I heard say he 
 was outrun on Cotsall. 
 
 Page. It could not be judged, sir. 
 
 Slender. You '11 not confess, you '11 not confess. 
 
 Shallow. That he will not. — 'Tis your fault, 'tis your fault ; 'tis 
 a good dog. 
 
 Page. A cur, sir. 
 
 Shallow. Sir, he 's a good dog, and a fair dog : can there be more 
 said ? he is good and fair." 
 
 That Shakespeare was familiar with " Cotsall " — the 
 Cotswold downs in Gloucestershire, celebrated for cours- 
 ing and for other rural sports — has been shown by Mr. 
 D. H. Madden (see page 513 above), as also the poet's 
 " knowledge of the most intimate secrets of woodcraft 
 and falconry, and, above all, of the nature and dispo- 
 sition of the horse." The same writer remarks : " Every 
 lover of the horse who is a student of Shakespeare must 
 have been struck by the number and appropriateness of 
 his references to horses and to horsemanship ; " and he 
 shows that some passages that seem obscure become 
 clear, and others gain a new significance when we get a 
 thorough knowledge of the old-time language of the 
 management and use of the animal. 
 
 Bacon, by the way, seems to have had no taste for 
 
 sport and little knowledge of it. To him the country 
 
 was 
 
 " a den 
 Of savage men," 
 
 as he calls it in the one piece of tolerable verse which he 
 is said to have written, and which the Baconian heretics- 
 are in the habit of quoting to prove that he really was a 
 poet. 
 
Notes 525 
 
 Page 100. The " Bidford challenge." — That Shake- 
 speare was a " teetotaller " of course no one supposes. 
 He would not have refused to help the Puritan preacher 
 (page 461) dispose of those quarts of sack and claret, 
 and he may sometimes have drank more than was good 
 for him ; but that he was intemperate, j adged by the 
 strictest standards of the time, I do not believe. Again 
 and again he goes out of his way to denounce drunken- 
 ness and to show up its evil results, or to commend the 
 opposite virtue with its wholesome fruits; and when 
 moral lessons are introduced in that unnecessary manner 
 by Shakespeare, we cannot doubt that they are intro- 
 duced for their own sake. For example, the long speech 
 of Hamlet (i. 4. 17 fol.) on the "heavy-headed revel" of 
 the Danes has no direct bearing upon the action of the 
 play. It is purely episodical, and its only conceivable 
 raison d'etre is its indirect moral significance. So in As 
 You Like It (ii. 2. 47) when Adam says " Though I look 
 old, yet I am strong and lusty," there was no imaginable 
 reason except this moral one for his adding : — 
 
 " For in my youth I never did apply 
 Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood, 
 Nor did not with unbashf ul forehead woo 
 The means of weakness and debility ; 
 Therefore my age is as a lusty winter, 
 Frosty, but kindly." 
 
 This is not said to Orlando, who was in no need of the 
 admonition it involves, but to the London audience for 
 whom the play was written ; and it is Shakespeare who 
 speaks, as surely as when he acted the part of Adam on 
 the stage. 
 
 Similarly in Twelfth Night (i. 5. 123) Olivia asks Teste, 
 ^' What 's a drunken man like, fool ? " and he replies ; 
 
^26 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 " Like a drowned man, a fool, and a madman. One 
 draught above heat makes him a fool ; the second mads 
 him ; and a third drowns him." 
 
 Note also the comments of Csesar on the drunken revel 
 in Antony and Cleopatra (ii. 7. 95 fol.) : — 
 
 " Pompey. This is not yet an Alexandrian feast. 
 
 Antony. It ripens towards it. — Strike the vessels, ho ! 
 Here is to Caesar ! 
 
 Ccesar. I could well forbear 't. 
 
 It 's monstrous labour, when I wash my brain, 
 And it grows fouler. 
 
 Antony. Be a child o' the time. 
 
 Ccesar. Possess it, I '11 make answer; 
 But I had rather fast from all four days 
 Than drink so much in one." 
 
 Even more striking, from the same point of view, is 
 Cassio's bitter remorse for his drunkenness (Othello, ii. 3. 
 254 fol.) It is not so much the loss of his oflBce that 
 he laments as the personal degradation and disgrace : — 
 
 " Cassio. Reputation, reputation, reputation ! O, I have lost 
 my reputation ! I have lost the immortal part of myself, and what 
 remains Is bestial. My reputation, lago, my reputation ! 
 
 lago. As I am an honest man, I thought you had received some 
 bodily wound ; there is more sense in that than in reputation. . . . 
 
 Cassio. O God, that men should put an enemy in their mouths to 
 steal away their brains ! that we should, with joy, pleasance, revel, 
 and applause, transform ourselves into beasts ! . . . 
 
 lago. Come, you are too severe a moraler. . . . 
 
 Cassio. I will ask him for my place again; he shall tell me I am 
 a drunkard! Had I as many mouths as Hydra, such an answer 
 would stop them all. To be now a sensible man, by and by a fool, 
 and presently a beast ! O, strange ! Every inordinate cup is unblest, 
 and the ingredient is a devil." 
 
 No one who observes how much space is given to these 
 self-reproaches of Cassio will regard them as the mere 
 conventional work of a playwright on a minor incident 
 of his plot. There is a deeper ethical meaning in them. 
 
Notes 527 
 
 Page 100. John Jordan He will be chiefly remem- 
 bered for his forgery of the so-called "will" of John 
 Shakespeare ; ^ but his Original Collections on Shakespeare 
 and Stratford-on-Avon and Historical Accounts of the 
 Families of Shakespeare and Hart (both published about 
 1780) contain much other matter that is more or less 
 suspicious. 
 
 Other Shakespearian forgeries that have been the 
 source of no little trouble and vexation to biographers 
 and editors may be briefly mentioned here. In 1796 
 William Henry Ireland published a volume of forged 
 matter under the title of Miscellaneous Papers and Legal 
 Instruments under the Hand and Seal of William Shake- 
 speare, etc. His father, Samuel Ireland, seems to have 
 been a partner in the fraud. The son wrote a tragedy 
 in blank verse, entitled Vortigern, which he pretended to 
 have found among the dramatist's manuscripts. It was 
 produced at Drury Lane Theatre and afterwards printed. 
 The forgeries were exposed by Malone, and young Ire- 
 land in 1805 acknowledged them in his Confessions. 
 
 John Payne Collier, an editor and critic who had done 
 much excellent work on Shakespeare, was guilty of a 
 series of forgeries between 1835 and 1849 which for 
 a time deceived many of his critical contemporaries, but 
 were subsequently exposed by Hamilton, Ingleby, Wheat- 
 ley, and others. For a list of the more important of the 
 forged papers, see the appendix to the Life of the drama- 
 
 1 This was really what purported to be a long confession of faith, 
 dictated (for it could not have been written) by " John Shakespear, 
 an unworthy member of the Holy Catholick religion." According 
 to Jordan in 1784, " it was found by Mr. Joseph Mosely, a brick- 
 layer of this town [Stratford] some years ago under the tileing of 
 the house where the poet was born." Investigations made by Malone 
 and others proved beyond a doubt that it was spurious. 
 
528 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 tisfc in vol. i. of Dyce's third edition of Shakespeare, or 
 Sidney Lee's Life of Shakespeare (pp. 367-369). For 
 fuller information the books mentioned in the Bibliog- 
 raphy (p. 516 above) may be consulted. 
 
 Page 105. Shakespeare and the Puritans, — Shake- 
 speare's allusions to the Puritans are few and slight. 
 In AWs Well (i. 3. 56, 98) the Clown says, in substance, 
 that both Puritan and Papist are liable to be cuckolded, 
 and again that " honesty " is " no Puritan." In The 
 Winter's Tale (iv. 3. 46) the Clown refers to the psalm- 
 singing of Puritans. The passage in Pericles (iv. 6. 9), 
 " She would make a Puritan of the devil," is not Shake- 
 speare's. In Twelfth Night (ii. 8. 152) Malvolio is not 
 meant to be a Puritan, as many editors and commenta- 
 tors have assumed. Maria says that " sometimes he is 
 a kind of Puritan," that is, somewhat like a Puritan ; 
 but when Andrew and Toby take her to mean that he is 
 one, she denies it : " The devil a Puritan that he is, or 
 anything constantly but a time-pie aser." In the same 
 play (iii. 2. 34) Andrew says, " I had as lief be a Brown- 
 ist as a politician." These are the only allusions to the 
 sect in the plays, and they are all put into the mouths of 
 clowns or a fool worse than the clowns. In 1 Henry IV. 
 (ii. 4) Falstaff mimics a Puritan when he plays the part 
 of the King lecturing Prince Hal. Malvolio never talks 
 like one. 
 
 Page 129. Richard Field. — Another person with 
 whom Shakespeare may have become acquainted during 
 his early days in London was John Florio, the most 
 celebrated teacher of Italian in that time. After leaving 
 Magdalen College, Oxford, he lived for many years in 
 London, engaged in teaching and in literary work, and 
 was intimate with most of the eminent men of letters 
 
Notes 529 
 
 and their noble patrons. The Earl of Southampton was 
 one of his pupils in Italian, and to him (in connection 
 with the Earl of Rutland and the Countess of Bed- 
 ford) Florio, in 1598, dedicated his Italian-English 
 dictionary entitled A Worlcle of Wordes. After the 
 accession of James he was made tutor to Prince Henry, 
 and became the friend and favourite of Queen Anne, 
 to whom he dedicated the second edition of the Worlde 
 of Wordes. 
 
 Page 149. Greene and Chettle Most of the editors 
 
 and commentators have followed Malone in assuming 
 that Greene refers to Shakespeare both as an actor and 
 as an author, and this may be admitted. It is generally 
 agreed that "beautified with our feathers" alludes to 
 acting, though some regard it as insinuating plagia- 
 rism ; but " bombast out a blank verse " (which, taken 
 by itself, might refer to declaiming verse on the 
 stage) appears from the context to mean the writing 
 of such verse. The words, "as the best of you," are 
 evidently addressed to the dramatists, who, though they 
 may all have been actors at some time in their lives, 
 are here viewed by Greene as authors. The "Jo- 
 hannes Factotum" also indicates that Shakespeare is 
 alluded to in some other capacity than that of a mere 
 actor. 
 
 The critics, almost without exception, believe that the 
 <« other " of the two persons who, as Chettle says, were 
 offended by Greene's attack, was Shakespeare, though 
 the reference, on the face of it, seems to be to one of the 
 three playwrights whom Greene addresses. Fleay be- 
 lieves that Chettle " apologizes for the offence given to 
 Marlowe in the Groatsioorih of Wit. To Peele he makes 
 no apology, nor indeed was any required. Shakespeare 
 
53 o Life of Shakespeare 
 
 was not one of those who took offence ; they are ex- 
 pressly stated to have been two of the three authors 
 addressed by Greene, the third (Lodge) not being in 
 England." Dr. Ingleby also doubts whether Chettle 
 refers to Shakespeare, if we take his words as they stand. 
 A writer in the Athenceum (February 7, 1874) contends 
 that the two who took offence were Marlowe and Nash. 
 He regards it as certain that " Shakespeare was not one 
 of them." 
 
 A careful scrutiny of the whole passage, however, in- 
 dicates that Shakespeare is the " other " one meant. The 
 person is complimented first upon his acting (the inter- 
 pretation that all give to "the qualitie he professes"), 
 and the reference to his "facetious [felicitous] grace in 
 writing " comes in at the end of the passage as a part of 
 the credit accorded to him by " divers of worship." It 
 is quite certain that Chettle would not refer in that way 
 to Marlowe or any other of Greene's three dramatists, 
 all of whom had established their reputation as authors. 
 It would be damning them with faint praise, but it was 
 no slight compliment to the 'prentice work of Shake- 
 speare, who, after retouching old plays for the stage, 
 was only just beginning to try his hand at original 
 dramatic composition. The " qualitie he professes " 
 clearly suggests that acting was the regular profession, 
 or occupation, of the person referred to, and this was not 
 true of Marlowe, Peele, or Lodge. At that time they 
 would have regarded it as anything but a compliment to 
 be included among the " puppets " at whom Greene had 
 sneered as noteworthy merely for being " beautified with 
 our feathers." 
 
 Page 150. Quum inscrutabilia, etc. — The misprint 
 of " Quum " for " Quam " is probably in the original 
 
Notes ^2 ^ 
 
 ■work, as it appears in Halliwell-Phillipps's careful re- 
 print, which is followed here. 
 
 Page 170. The shortest of the plays. — Writers on 
 Shakespeare often give inaccurate and conflicting state- 
 ments concerning the length of the plays. Sidney Lee, 
 in his Life of Shakespeare, says that Hamlet is the longest 
 " except Antony and Cleopatra, which exceeds it by sixty 
 lines." Hamlet is almost 900 lines longer than Antony 
 and Cleopatra, having 3930 lines (" Globe " numbering) 
 while that has only 3063. This error dates back to 
 Fleay's tables in the Transactions of the New Shakspere 
 Society, 1874-76, and was repeated in Fleay's Manual, 
 1878. He corrected it in 1881, but its frequent reap- 
 pearance since that time illustrates the persistent vitality 
 of misprints. Mr. Lee also says that The Tempest is the 
 shortest of the plays except Macbeth and The Tioo Gentle- 
 men of Verona; and elsewhere he caUs Macbeth the 
 "shortest of all Shakespeare's plays." The Two Gentle- 
 men of Verona has 2294 lines, being longer than A Mid- 
 summer-Night's Dream (2180). 
 
 Page 197. Lodge's poem Baynes alludes to Lodge's 
 
 tale of Glaucus and Sylla, which Professor Minto sug- 
 gested as the probable model of Shakespeare's Venus and 
 Adonis. Lodge's poem was probably the earlier of the 
 two, but I doubt whether Shakespeare was indebted 
 to it. 
 
 Page 232. Francis Meres. — He was born in Lincoln- 
 shire in 1565, and died in 1647. He was a clergyman 
 and author. He graduated at Pembroke College, Cam- 
 bridge, became rector of Wing, Rutland, and kept school 
 there. His Palladis Tamia, or Wits Treasury (1598) was 
 his most important work. It contains notices of about 
 125 English authors, painters, musicians, etc. 
 
53 2 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 Page 238. Henry V. — It is proper to state that por- 
 tions of the comments on this play were originally con- 
 tributed without my name to an edition of Shakespeare, 
 published in England about fifteen years ago. 
 
 Page 295. Value of money in Shakespeare's day — • 
 The purchasing power of money in the Elizabethan age 
 is variously stated as from seven to twelve times what it 
 is at present. Of course it varied much with different 
 classes of commodities. Some articles cost as much in 
 money then as now ; others were much more than twelve 
 times cheaper. Sidney Lee is probably about right in 
 making the average value eight times what it is at 
 present. 
 
 Page 386. The trade of Noverint. — The profession 
 of law ; alluding to the beginning of legal documents in 
 Latin: '< Noverint universi per presentes," etc. ("Know 
 all men by these presents," etc.). 
 
 The " neck-verse " mentioned a few lines below refers 
 to the old English "benefit of clergy," by which the 
 clergy were exempted from criminal process before a 
 secular judge. This privilege came to be extended, for 
 many offences, to all laymen who could read; and their 
 ability to read was tested by means of a verse from some 
 Latin book. 
 
 Page 394. S. E. — That is, Son Eminence, or His 
 Highness. 
 
 Page 468. Quiney. — The name was pronounced 
 Qmn-ny, not Qui-ny. 
 
 Page 472. The document was signed. — Aside from the 
 three signatures of the poet on the sheets of his will, 
 the only autographs of indisputable authenticity are his 
 signatures to the indenture relating to the Blackfriars 
 purchase in 1613 (see p. 460 above), and to the mort- 
 
Notes ^23 
 
 gage-deed connected with the same transaction. The 
 former document is in the Guildhall Library, London, 
 the latter in the British Museum: A copy of Florio's 
 Montaigne in the Museum has Shakespeare's name on the 
 fly-leaf, but whether he wrote it is uncertain. Another 
 possible autograph was discovered in 1889 in a copy of 
 North's Plutarch (1603) on a sheet of paper which had 
 been used as a part of the filling of the back in bind- 
 ing the volume. It is in the Public Library, Boston, 
 Mass. 
 
 Page 473. Her rights of doioer. — Sidney Lee says : 
 "Her right to a widow's dower — that is, to a third 
 share for life in freehold estate — was not subject to 
 testamentary disposition, but Shakespeare had taken 
 steps to prevent her from benefiting — at any rate to 
 the full extent — by that legal arrangement. He had 
 barred her dower in the case of his latest purchase of< 
 freehold estate, namely, the house at Blackfriars. Such 
 procedure is pretty conclusive proof that he had the in- 
 tention of excluding her from the enjoyment of his pos- 
 sessions after his death." But the London property was a 
 very small part of Shakespeare's real estate. Moreover, 
 it was conveyed to Shakespeare and three other per- 
 sons as joint tenants, and therefore, according to author- 
 ity quoted by Mr. Lee, "the dower of Shakespeare's wife 
 would be barred unless he were the survivor of the four 
 bargainees," which " was a remote contingency," and 
 Shakespeare " always retained the power of making an- 
 other settlement when the trustees were shrinking." 
 But if the dower had been absolutely barred in this 
 particular instance, it cannot be regarded as " conclusive 
 proof" that Shakespeare intended to exclude his wife 
 from the enjoyment of his far mOre valuable possessions 
 
534 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 in Stratford and its vicinity, concerning which no such 
 bar was made. 
 
 Mr. Lee, however, thinks it probable that, so far as 
 the poet may have barred the dower, it was because his 
 wife's " ignorance of affairs and the infirmities of age (she 
 was past sixty) combined to unfit her in his eyes for the 
 care of property, and, as an act of ordinary prudence, he 
 committed her to the care of his elder daughter," who 
 seems to have inherited " some of his own shrewdness, 
 and had a capable adviser in her husband." 
 
 Page 477. A portrait of the poet. — The bvist and the 
 engraved portrait in the folio of 1623, though both poor 
 from an artistic point of view, are the only counterfeit 
 pi-esentments of the poet that can be ascribed to a time 
 within a few years of his death. The folio portrait was 
 the work of Martin Droeshout, who was only fourteen 
 years old when Shakespeare died and twenty-one when 
 he made the engraving. It is probable that he copied it 
 from a painting, and that the latter is now in the Shake- 
 speare Memorial at Stratford-on-Avon. Experts are con- 
 fident that the painting is a work of the early part of the 
 seventeenth century, and that it was anterior to the en- 
 graving, not based upon it. Nothing is known of its 
 history previous to its discovery in 1840, but the critical 
 evidence in its favour is remarkably strong. Artistically 
 it is superior to the engraving. 
 
 Of the many other painted portraits the so-called " Ely 
 House portrait," now in the Birthplace at Stratford, is the 
 only other one that particularly resembles the Droeshout 
 engraving or the bust on the monument. Another famous 
 one is the " Chandos portrait," now in the National Por- 
 trait Gallery, London, which was once the property of 
 Sir William Davenant. According to Oldys, it was 
 
Notes ^^^ 
 
 painted by Burbage the actor, but it is better than any- 
 authenticated painting by him. It varies in its details 
 from the bust and the Droeshout engraving, and was 
 probably painted some years after Shakespeare's death 
 from descriptions given by persons who had known him, 
 but was more or less influenced by the imagination of 
 the artist. 
 
 The " Jansen portrait " has a history dating back to 
 1770, and is a pleasing pictm-e, but quite unlike those of 
 better authority; and the same may be said of the 
 " Felton portrait," which is inscribed " Gul. Shakespear 
 1597, B,. B." (Richard Burbage), but has no pedigree 
 earlier than 1792. 
 
 A portrait bust of black terra-cotta was found in 1845 
 in a wall on the site of the Duke's Theatre in London, 
 built by Davenant. It is supposed to have belonged to 
 the theatre. It appears to be an idealized representation 
 of the poet, based on the early portraits. 
 
 The Kesselstadt death-mask, foimd in a junk-shop in 
 Mayence in 1849, is one that we could fain believe to 
 have been taken from the poet's face, but the evidence in 
 its favour is unfortunately insufficient. 
 
 For fuller information the curious reader may be 
 referred to Sidney Lee's Life, and particularly to Mr. 
 J. P. Norris's Portraits of Shakesjieare (p. 514 above), 
 the most complete and best illustrated of the special 
 works on the subject. 
 
 Page 482. He icas an earnest Puritan. — There is no 
 doubt concerning Dr. Hall's religious views, but biog- 
 raphers and critics have differed widely concerning 
 Shakespeare's. Davies (see p. 15) says that "he died a 
 papist ; " and Halliwell-Phillipps remarks : " That this 
 was the local tradition does not admit of rational ques- 
 
^^6 Life of Shakespeare 
 
 tion. ... At the same time it is anything but necessary 
 to conclude that the great dramatist had very strong or 
 pronounced views on theological matters. If that were 
 the case, it is almost certain that there would have been 
 some other early allusion to them, and perhaps in him- 
 self less of that spirit of toleration for every kind of 
 opinion which rendered him at home with all sorts and 
 conditions of men, — as well as less of that freedom from 
 inflexible preconceptions that might have alfected the 
 fidelity of his dramatic work. . . . Assuming, as we 
 fairly may, that he had a leaning to the faith of his 
 ancestors, we may yet be sure that the inclination was 
 not of a nature that materially disturbed the easy-going 
 acquiescence in the conditions of his surrounding world 
 that added so much to the happiness of his later days." 
 
 Books and essays have been written to prove that, as 
 Davies had asserted, he was a Roman Catholic, a good 
 Churchman, and an infidel. They prove at least that he 
 was no narrow or bigoted sectarian who could be easily 
 labelled. He was no infidel, and his Christianity was 
 too broad to be measured by the foot-rule of any sect. 
 His references to religious subjects seem to me proof of 
 genuine religious feeling. He was no saint, and no 
 preacher ; but when he has occasion to deal with sacred 
 things he shows a reverence and a depth of feeling which 
 are evidently his own. They are not merely put into the 
 mouths of his characters as in keeping therewith ; they 
 are subjective and sympathetic. In many instances they 
 are not necessary to the character. We should not miss 
 them if they were omitted, and an irreligious man would 
 have omitted them — or, rather, they would not have 
 occurred to him. 
 
 Whatever may have been Shakespeare's personal sins 
 
Notes 
 
 537 
 
 or weaknesses, his moral convictions were always sound 
 and healthy. On human duty he speaks with no uncer- 
 tain accent. In his works there is no sophistical confu- 
 sion of the distinctions between right and wrong. It is 
 to be noted, moreover, that " he habitually contemplates 
 human duty and the better human feelings as sacred 
 things, and invests with sanctity the natural and insti- 
 tuted relations of life." The paramount duty of living 
 for others is often set forth ; but never perhaps more 
 eloquently than in Measure for Measure (i. 1. 30-41)^ 
 where the Duke is giving his commission to Angelo : — 
 
 " Thyself and thy belongings 
 Are not thine own so proper as to waste 
 Thyself upon thy virtues, they on thee. 
 Heaven doth with us as we with torches do — 
 Not light them for themselves ; for if our virtues 
 Did not go forth of us, 'twere all alike 
 As if we had them not. Spirits are not finely touch'd 
 But to fine issues ; nor Nature never lends 
 The smallest scruple of her excellence 
 But, like a thrifty goddess, she determines 
 Herself the glory of a creditor, 
 Both thanks and use." 
 
 Henry Morley, in a criticism on As You Like It, 
 speaks of Shakespeare's works as " a Lay Bible ; " and 
 they are such, he believes, not by chance, but of set 
 purpose. He says : " Shakespeare never allows evil to be 
 overcome with evil; he invariably shows evil overcome 
 with good, the discords of life healed only by man's love 
 to God and his neighbour. Love God ; love your neigh- 
 bour ; do your work, making the active business of life 
 subject to the commandments upon which hang all the 
 law and the prophets — Shakespeare's works contain no 
 lessons that are not subordinate to these. Of dogmatism 
 
^2^ Life of Shakespeare 
 
 he is free, of the true spirit of religion he is full ; and it 
 is for this reason that his works are a Lay Bible." 
 
 I may add what Keble, the saintly singer of The 
 Christian Year, says of our poet in one of the lectures 
 he delivered as professor of poetry at Oxford : " Recollect, 
 I beseech you, how you each felt when you read these 
 plays for the first time. Do you not remember that all 
 along, as the drama proceeded, you were led to take the 
 part of whatever good and worthy characters it con- 
 tained ; and more especially, when you reached the end 
 and closed the book, you felt that your inmost heart had 
 received a stimulus which was calculated to urge you on 
 to virtue ; and to virtue not merely such as is apt, with- 
 out much reality, to warm and excite the feelings of the 
 young, but such as consists in the actual practice of a 
 stricter, purer, more upright, more industrious, more 
 religious life ? We need not hesitate, therefore, to con- 
 clude that he favoured virtue from his very soul ; more 
 especially when we consider how widely different is the 
 case with most of his contemporaries who devoted them- 
 selves, as he did, to writing for the stage." 
 
 Page 493. John Heming. — The name also appears 
 in documents of the time as Hemings or Hemmings (see 
 pages 298 and 325 above). In the folio we find Heminge 
 in the signatures to the dedication and the preface, but 
 Hemmings in the list of " the principall actors in all these 
 
 I may add that in quotations, as a rule, I have 
 followed the original spelling of Shakespeare's name 
 and that of other proper names, titles of books, etc. 
 In old letters, documents, etc., I have followed the 
 best accessible authorities. 
 
INDEX 
 
 A-B-C book, 44. 
 
 Abbott, E. A., quoted, 24. 
 
 Accidence, the school-book, 48. 
 
 Actors: at Stratford, 41, 73; boy- 
 companies, 309; adult compa- 
 nies, 309; incomes of, 293-295. 
 
 Adam, in As You Like It, played 
 by Shakespeare, 259. 
 
 Addison, Joseph, 441. 
 
 Ailwin, the Saxon sheriff, 26. 
 
 Alba, Tofte's, quoted, 162. 
 
 Albio7is England, 409. 
 
 Alcester, 62. 
 
 Allen, Charles, on law in Shake- 
 speare, 77. 
 
 Alleyn, Edward, 21 (spelling of 
 name), 310, 313. 
 
 All for Love, Dryden's, 416. 
 
 All 's Well That Ends Well, 366, 
 369, 380, 437, 528. 
 
 Amyot, Bishop, translator of 
 Plutarch, 415. 
 
 Anne and Agnes, interchange- 
 able, 78. 
 
 Anne, Lady, in Richard III., 66. 
 
 Antony and Cleopatra, 414-417, 
 418, 437, 526, 531. 
 
 Apolloniiis and Sylla (or Apolo- 
 nius and Sllla), 168, 270. 
 
 Arcadia, Sidney's, 168, 410. 
 
 Arden, a district of Warwick- 
 shire, 57. 
 
 Arden, Agnes, 89, 109. 
 
 Arden, Edward, 104. 
 
 Arden family, 26, 104. 
 
 Arden, Mary. See Shakespeare, 
 Mary. 
 
 Arden, Robert, 25, 29, 89, 290. 
 
 Arden, Thomas, 26. 
 
 Ardens of Alvanley, 290. 
 
 Ariodante and Ginevra, 261. 
 
 Ariosto's / Suppositi, 252; Or- 
 lando Furioso, 261. 
 
 Arms, Shakespeare's coat of, 
 287-292. 
 
 Armyn, Robert, 325. 
 
 As Tou Like It, 58, 255, 256-260, 
 272, 278, 323, 522, 525, 537. 
 
 Asbies (or Ashbies), 26, 108, 110, 
 283, 296. 
 
 Ascham, Roger, 46. 
 
 Aston, Cantlowe, 109. 
 
 Aston, Edward, 99. 
 
 Aubrey, John, 13, 14, 88, 463. 
 
 Autographs of Shakespeare, 532. 
 
 Aylesbury, 120. 
 
 Ayrer, Jacob, 425. 
 
 Avon, the river, 59, 100. 
 
 Bacon and Shakespeare, 92, 494. 
 Badger, John, 115. 
 Banbury, 120. 
 
 Bancroft, Thomas, quoted, 22. 
 Bandello's Novelle, 174, 262. 
 Baptista Mantuanus, 49. 
 Bardsley, C. "W., quoted, 19. 
 Barnard, Lady. See Hall, Eliza- 
 beth. 
 
 539 
 
540 
 
 Index 
 
 Barnard, Sir Jolan, 486. 
 Barnes, Barnabe, 362. 
 Barnet, battlefield of, 67. 
 Barnflejd, Richard, 220, 336. 
 Barnum, P. T., 522. 
 Bartholomeiv Fair, quoted, 161. 
 Bartlett, John, his Concordance, 
 
 24. 
 Baynes, Thomas S., quoted, 55, 
 
 68, 102, 113, 213, 418, 523, 531. 
 Beauchamp, Richard, 66. 
 Beaumont, Francis, 2, 74 (quoted). 
 Belief orest's Hlstoires Tragiques, 
 
 262, 387. 
 Bfetrothal, or pre-contract, 86-92. 
 Betterton, Thomas, 8, 131, 441, 521. 
 Bibliography of Shakespeare, 491, 
 
 517. 
 Bidford challenge, 100, 525. 
 Bird, Dr. John, quoted, 481. 
 Birthplace, Shakespeare's, 37^0. 
 Black, William, the novelist, 468. 
 Blackfriars, Shakespeare's pur- 
 chase of house in, 460, 533. 
 Blackfriars Theatre, 1, 281, 298, 
 
 307. 
 Blackstone, Sir William, quoted, 
 
 95. 
 Blades, William, quoted, 129. 
 Blount, Edward, 493. 
 Blurt, Master Constable, 167. 
 Boaden, James, quoted, 23. 
 Boar's Head Tavern, 127. 
 Boccaccio, 422. 
 Boisteau, Pierre, 174. 
 Boswell, James, 425. 
 Bosworth Field, 67, 69, 181. 
 Boyle, Robert, quoted, 450. 
 Brae, A. E., 366. 
 Brewer, J. N., quoted, 102. 
 Bright, B. H., 348. 
 Brinsley, John, 50. 
 British Magazine, quoted, 100. 
 Brooke, Arthur, 174. 
 Browning, Robert, quoted, 333. 
 
 Bruce, spelling of the name, 21. 
 
 Brut, Layamon's, 409. 
 
 Buck, Sir George, 429. 
 
 Bucklersbury, 127. 
 
 Bull Theatre, 40, 228. 
 
 Burbage, James, 135, 137, 139, 141, 
 
 298. 
 Burbage, Richard, 141, 181, 192, 
 
 298, 321, 324, 535. 
 Burghley, Lord, 113, 144, 352. 
 
 Caldwell, G. S., 363. 
 
 Camden, William, 409, 418. 
 
 Campbell, Lord, on law in Shake- 
 speare, 77, 85 (quoted). 
 
 Campbell, Thomas, quoted, 265, 
 416, 423. 
 
 Campeggio, Cardinal, 307. 
 
 Canterbury Tales, 258. 
 
 Capell, Edward, 452. 
 
 Cartwright's Shakespeare and 
 Ben Jonson, quoted, 323. 
 
 Castle, William, 15, 135. 
 
 Caxton, William, 377. 
 
 Chalmers, Alexander, 447. 
 
 Chamberlain, The Lord, his Com- 
 pany of Players, 226, 350. 
 
 Chandler, William, 469. 
 
 Chapel, Children of the, 309, 318. 
 
 Chapman, George, 319, 362, 378. 
 
 Charlecote Park, 94. 
 
 Charles I., 5. 
 
 Charles II., 259. 
 
 Charles the Bold, 371. 
 
 Chaucer, 2, 122, 189, 207, 210, 258, 
 377. 
 
 Chester, Robert, his Love's Mar- 
 tyr, 214. 
 
 Chettle, Henry, 140, 153, 377, 529. 
 
 Chipping Norton, 121. 
 
 Cholmondeley, spelling of, 21. 
 
 Gibber, Colley, 130. 
 
 Cinthio, Giraldi, 370, 390. 
 
 Clarke, Charles Cowden, quoted, 
 266. 
 
Index 
 
 541 
 
 Clayton, John, 299. 
 Cleopatra, Daniel's, 415. 
 Clopton, Edward, 487. 
 Clopton, Sir Hugh (1), 117, 286. 
 Clopton, Sir Hugh (2), 287, 486. 
 Clopton, Sir John, 286, 487. 
 Cobham, Lord, 231. 
 Coke, Chief Justice, 468, 473. 
 Cokes Tale of Gamelyn, The, 
 
 258. 
 Colbrand, the Saracen, 70. 
 Coleridge, Hartley, 248, 369. 
 Coleridge, S. T., quoted, 170, 175, 
 185, 200, 201, 219, 378, 396, 414, 
 415, 451. 
 Collier, John Payne, quoted, 197, 
 
 385, 452, 495, 499, 516, 527. 
 Collins, Francis, 47. 
 Collins, William, 425. 
 Combe, John, 462. 
 Combe, William, and the land 
 
 enclosures, 463-468. 
 Comedy of Errors, 125, 169, 187, 
 
 191, 269, 426. 
 Comus, quoted , 124. 
 Condell, Henry, 298, 325, 349, 493. 
 Constable, Henry, 335. 
 Contention betwixt Yorke and 
 
 Lancaster, The, 157, 159. 
 ■Cook, Robert, 288. 
 Cooke, James, 481, 484. 
 Corbet, Bishop, quoted, 181. 
 Coriolanus, 412, 418. 
 Cotsall, or Cotswold, 524. 
 ■Coventry, 17, 18, 70. 
 Cowley, Richard, 325, 498. 
 Cradle of Security, The, 42. 
 Craik, G. L., 251, 276, 277, 366, 496. 
 Crosby Hall, 127. 
 Crosse, Henry, quoted, 296. 
 Crown Inn, at Oxford, 123. 
 Curtain Theatre, 136, 138, 141, 143, 
 
 307, 311, 315. 
 €ymbeline, 185, 258, 278, 420^23, 
 433. 
 
 Cymbeline, King, 66. 
 Cynthia's Revels, 317. 
 
 Daniel, P. A. quoted, 173. 
 Daniel, Samuel, 317, 334, 335, 336, 
 
 362, 415. 
 Davenant, John, 123. 
 Davenant, Sir William, 123, 130, 
 
 441, 534, 535. 
 Davies, John, of Hereford, 209, 
 
 260, 334. 
 Davies, Rev. Richard, 15, 95, 96. 
 Davies, Sir John, 133, 274. 
 Davies, Thomas, quoted, 489. 
 Davison, Francis, 355. 
 Day, John, 445. 
 De Quincey, Thomas, quoted, 
 
 36, 85. 
 Decavieron, The, 422. 
 Dekker, Thomas, 316, 318, 377. 
 Delius, Nikolaus, 157, 333, 445. 
 Delia Corte, Girolamo, quoted, 
 
 173. 
 Dennis, John, 246. 
 Derby, Earl of, his Company of 
 
 Players, 148. 
 Desdemona, derivation of the 
 
 name, 48. 
 Dethick, William, the herald, 
 
 289. 
 Diana, de Montemayor's, 167. 
 Digges, Leonard, 281, 506. 
 Donne, John, 274. 
 Donnelly, Ignatius, 494. 
 Dorastus and Fawnia, 431. 
 Dover, 119. 
 
 Dowdall, John, 15, 475. 
 Dowden, Prof. Edward, quoted, 
 24, 106, 161, 166, 176, 201, 223, 251, 
 252, 323, 331, 334, 346, 362, 366, 
 370, 382, 420, 450. 
 Downes, John, quoted, 136. 
 Di'ake, Nathan, quoted, 171, 422. 
 Drayton, Michael, quoted, 56, 
 124, 333, 362, 474. 
 
542 
 
 Index 
 
 Droeshout, Martin, 534. 
 Drummond of Hawthornden, 316, 
 
 322. 
 Dryden, John, 416, 441. 
 Dugdale, Sir William, 12, 71, 475, 
 
 485. 
 Dlirer, Albert, 380. 
 Dyce, Alexander, quoted, 342, 
 
 437, 451, 499, 528. 
 
 Eastcheap, 127. 
 
 Eastivard Hoe, 181, 319. 
 
 Editions of Shakespeare, Early 
 American, 510; Folio, 49 3; 
 Modern, 508; Poems and Son- 
 nets, 510; Quarto, 491; Vario- 
 rum, 509. 
 
 Education of Shakespeare, 44. 
 
 Edward I., 307. 
 
 Edward II., 185. 
 
 Edivard III., 452. 
 
 Edward VI., and the Stratford 
 Grammar School, 45. 
 
 Edward, Prince of Wales, son of 
 Henry VI., 66. 
 
 Eedes, Richard, 275. 
 
 Emerson, R. W., quoted, 216. 
 
 Elizabeth, Queen, 31, 64, 122, 183, 
 192, 195, 225, 245, 248, 274, 286, 
 324, 350, 363, 447, 455. 
 
 EUacombe, H. N., his Plant-lore 
 of Shakespeare, 61. 
 
 Ely House, 125. 
 
 Elze, Friedrich Karl, quoted, 4, 
 20, 28, 92, 132. 
 
 Essex, Earl of, 184, 237. 
 
 Evans, Sir Hugh, 48, 54. 
 
 Every Man in His Htimour, 255, 
 260, 307. 
 
 Every Man Out of His Humour, 
 317. 
 
 Evesham, battle of, 63. 
 
 Fabyan, Robert, 409. 
 Fair Rosamond, 122. 
 
 Faire Etn, 454. 
 
 Falcon Tavern, 75, 126. 
 
 FalstafE, 235, 245, 248. 
 
 Farmer, Richard, 366. 
 
 Faustus, Marlowe's, 180. 
 
 Feldon, a district of Warwick- 
 shire, 57. 
 
 Felix and Philomena, 167. 
 
 Feltham, Owen, 440. 
 
 Feme, Sir .John, 288. 
 
 Fidessa, Griffin's, 219. 
 
 Field, Henry, 129. 
 
 Field, Richard, 129, 199, 295, 335. 
 
 Fiorentino, Giovanni, 228, 250. 
 
 Fire of London in 1666, 75. 
 
 Fitton, Mary, 350. 
 
 Fitton, Anne, 351. 
 
 Fleay, F. G., quoted, 179, 223, 251, 
 322, 366, 404, 436, 439, 444, 529. 
 
 Fletcher, George, quoted, 406. 
 
 Fletcher, John, 448, 450. 
 
 Fletcher, Lawrence, 324. 
 
 Florio, John, 528. 
 
 Folio editions of Shakespeare, 
 493. 
 
 Forest of Arden, 57, 256. 
 
 Forgeries, Shakespearian, 527. 
 
 Forman, Dr. Simon, quoted, 98, 
 184, 400, 420, 430. 
 
 Fortune Theatre, 313, 315. 
 
 French, G. R., quoted, 21. 
 
 Frolicsome Duke, The, 253. 
 
 Froude, J. A., quoted, 104. 
 
 Fuller, Thomas, 12. 
 
 Furness, Dr. Horace Howard, 
 258, 269, 388, 390. 
 
 Furness, Mrs. H. H., 24. 
 
 Furnivall, Dr. F. J., quoted, 163, 
 180, 202, 225, 240, 250, 266, 340, 
 346, 362, 364, 374, 432, 445, 453. 
 
 Gairdner's Hoiises of Lancaster 
 
 and York, quoted, 69. 
 Garrick Jubilee, 39, 522. 
 Gascoigne, George, 21, 222. 
 
Index 
 
 543 
 
 Gastrell, Kev. Francis, 488. 
 Gawsworth Church, 351. 
 Gentleman's Magazine, quoted, 
 
 102. 
 GeofErey of Monmouth, 409. 
 George, Duke of Clarence, 57. 
 Gerard, John, 125, 136. 
 Gervinus, G. G., quoted, 266, 276, 
 
 279. 
 Gesta Grayorum, quoted, 169. 
 Gesta Romanorum, 227, 439. 
 Ghost in Hamlet, played by 
 
 Shakespeare, 260. 
 GifEord, William, quoted, 322, 
 
 442. 
 Gildon, Charles, 246. 
 Glauciis and Sylla, Lodge's, 531. 
 Globe Theatre, 5, 126, 138, 298, 
 
 306, 313, 315, 325, 448, 461. 
 Godfrey of Viterbo, 439. 
 Godwin, Parke, 363. 
 Godwin, William, quoted, 442. 
 Goethe on Hamlet, 389. 
 Golf, Thomas, 452. 
 Golding, Arthur, translator of 
 
 Ovid, 189, 199. 
 GoUancz, Israel, quoted, 347, 349, 
 
 436. 
 Gosson, Stephen, 228, 275. 
 Gower's Confessio Amantis, 439. 
 Grammar School, the Stratford, 
 
 44-50. 
 Gray's Inn Hall, 127. 
 Great St. Helen's, 128. 
 Greek, Shakespeare's knowledge 
 
 of, 47. 
 Greene, Rev. Joseph, 79. 
 Greene, Robert, 22, 149-157, 294, 
 
 386, 431, 529. 
 Greene, Thomas, town-clerk of 
 
 Stratford, 464. 
 Greenway, the Stratford carrier, 
 
 304. 
 Grendon Underwood, 15. 
 Griffin, Bartholomew, 219, 336. 
 
 Groafsworth of Wit, Greene's, 
 
 149, 294, 529. 
 Guido di Colonna, 378. 
 Guild, the Stratford, 45, 304. 
 Guy of Warwick, 70. 
 
 Hales, Prof. J. W., quoted, 2, 47. 
 
 Hall, Elizabeth, 457, 483, 485-488. 
 
 Hall, Dr. John, 20, 298, 455, 476, 
 480-484, 535. 
 
 Hall, Mrs. Susanna, 93, 455, 460, 
 484. 
 
 Hall, William, 354. 
 
 Hallam, Henry, 382, 442, 451. 
 
 Halliwell-Phillipps, J. O., quoted, 
 3, 9, 13, 15, 16, 20, 22, 28, 32, 33, 
 36, 40, 79, 92, 107, 111, 112, 123, 
 132, 133, 135, 146, 179, 209, 217, 
 261, 296, 297, 385, 457, 459, 465, 
 474, 488, 535. 
 
 Halls of Acton, 455. 
 
 Hamblet, Hystorle of, 387. 
 
 Hamlet, 72, 141, 185, 245, 260, 275, 
 278, 310, 384-391, 426, 525, 531. 
 
 Hamlet's Note-Book, 363. 
 
 Hanmer, Thomas, 168. 
 
 Harsnet, Samuel, 409. 
 
 Hart, Mrs. Joan, 35, 460, 473. 
 
 Hart, William, 362, 460, 470. 
 
 Hathaway, Anne. See Shake- 
 speare, Anne. 
 
 Hathaway Cottage, Anne, 79 fol., 
 107. 
 
 Hathaway, Richard, 78, 83. 
 
 Hatton, Sir Christopher, 274. 
 
 Hawthorne, quoted, 272. 
 
 Haywarde, Sir John, 183. 
 
 Hazlitt, William, 279, 413. 
 
 Hecatommithi, Cinthio's, 370, 
 394. 
 
 Hector of Germ,anie, quoted, 98. 
 
 Heming (or Hemings), John, 298, 
 325, 326, 349, 493, 538. 
 
 Heneage, Sir Thomas, 24. 
 
 Henrietta Maria, Queen, 486. 
 
544 
 
 Index 
 
 Henry TIL, 64. 
 
 Henry IV. Part I., 185, 230-236, 528. 
 
 Henry IV. Part II., 97, 185, 231, 
 
 236, 278, 532. 
 Henry V. at Kenilworth, 64. 
 Henry V., 67, 72, 103, 138, 231, 237- 
 
 245, 255, 278, 532. 
 Henry V., The Famous Victories 
 
 of, 231. 
 Henry VI., Part I., 67, 125, 156, 
 
 157, 176, 180, 191, 278, 435. 
 Henry VI., Parts II. and III., 
 
 156, 157, 176, 180, 191, 278, 435. 
 Henry VII., 67, 289. 
 Henry VIII., 71. 
 Henry VIII., 5, 255, 307, 367, 435, 
 
 446. 
 Henslowe, Philip, 156, 159, 227, 
 
 306, 387. 
 Heptameron of Civil Discourses, 
 
 Whetstone's, 371. 
 Herbert, Henry, 429. 
 Herbert, Philip, Earl of Mont- 
 gomery, 349, 505. 
 Herbert, William, Earl of Pem- 
 broke, 326, 348, 505. 
 Herford, C. H., quoted, 436. 
 Hero and Leander, Marlowe's, 
 
 203, 257. 
 Herod, in the old plays, 72. 
 Hertzberg, W., 251, 366. 
 Heywood, Thomas, 210, 218. 
 High Wycombe, 123. 
 Historia Britonum, 409. 
 Historia Danica, 388. 
 Histriomastix, 22, 317, 321. 
 Holinslied's Chronicles, 96, 179, 
 
 184, 225, 405, 409, 422. 
 Holland, Hugh, 506. 
 Holmes, Nathaniel, 363. 
 Holofernes, 47, 49. 
 Hosmer, Judge H. L., on the 
 
 Sonnets, 363. 
 Hudson, Rev. H. N., 391, 451. 
 Hughes, William, 363. 
 
 Humorous Day's Mirth, Chap- 
 man's, 167. 
 Hundred Merry Tales, A, 98. 
 Hunt, Thomas, 46, 82. 
 Hunter, Rev. Joseph, 366, 397. 
 
 Inganni, GV, 269. 
 Ingannati, GV, 269. 
 Ingeland, Thomas, quoted, 53. 
 Ingleby, C. M., quoted, 465, 530. 
 Ireland forgeries, 527. 
 Ireland, Samuel, quoted, 81, 102. 
 Iter Boreale, Corbet's, 181. 
 
 Jack Drum's Entertainment, 309. 
 Jaggard, Isaac, 493. 
 Jaggard, William, 218, 335, 493. 
 James I., 23, 125, 148, 247, 315, 319, 
 
 324-327, 400, 424, 455, 488. 
 Jameson, Mrs. Anna C, quoted, 
 
 264, 267, 417. 
 Jew of Malta, Marlowe's, 180. 
 Jew, The, old play of, 228. 
 John, King, 44, 192, 223. 
 John, The Troublesome Raigne 
 
 of King, 22i, 225. 
 Johnson, Dr. Samuel, 15, 131, 133, 
 
 157, 422. 
 Johnson (or Jansen), Gerard, 476. 
 Jonson, Ben, 6, 22, 47, 74, 100, 161, 
 
 215, 219, 236, 255, 260, 274, 281, 
 
 307, 316, 318, 319, 321, 440, 447, 
 
 474. 
 Jordan, John, the forger, 100, 
 
 131, 527. 
 Jourdan, Silvester, quoted, 424. 
 Judith Shakesx>eare, Black's, 468. 
 Jidius Ccesar, 274-282, 322, 437. 
 
 Katherine of Arragon, 307. 
 Keble, John, quoted, 538. 
 Keightley, Thomas, 438. 
 Kemp, William, 192, 294, 321, 351, 
 
 403, 498. 
 Kenil worth Castle, 63-65. 
 
Index 
 
 545 
 
 Kind-HaHs Dreame, Chettle's, 
 
 140, 153. 
 King's Players, The, 148, 315, 455, 
 
 457, 458. 
 Kirke, Colonel, 371. 
 Klein, J. L., on Ha^ilet, 390. 
 Knight, Charles, quoted, 132, 157, 
 
 160, 199, 367, 385. 
 Knightes Tale, Chaucer's, 189. 
 Kyd, Thomas, 161. 
 
 Lcelia and Gr Ingannati, 270. 
 
 Lamb, Charles, 258, 451. 
 
 Lambarde, William, 140, 183. 
 
 Lambert, Edmund, 32, 283. 
 
 Lambert, John, 32, 283. 
 
 Lane, Edward W., 253. 
 
 Lane, Nicholas, 110. 
 
 Laneham, Robert, quoted, 64. 
 
 Lang, Andrew, quoted and cor- 
 rected, 49. * 
 
 Langbaine, Gerard, 160. 
 
 Laquei Ridiculosi, quoted, 294. 
 
 Latin, Shakespeare's knowledge 
 of, 47. 
 
 Law, Shakespeare's knowledge 
 of, 77. 
 
 Layamon's Brut, 409. 
 
 Lear, 21, 117, 399, 408^14, 420, 443, 
 455. 
 
 Lee, Jane, on Henry VI. plays, 
 158. 
 
 Lee, Sidney, Life of Shakespeare, 
 16; quoted, 93, 184, 192,227, 288, 
 295, 322, 335, 337, 351, 353, 355, 
 359, 361, 362, 363, 391, 443, 451, 
 453, 528, 531, 532, 533. 
 
 LeFevre, Raoul, 377. 
 
 Legende of Goode Women, 
 Chaucer's, 189, 210. 
 
 Leicester's Company of Players, 
 137, 147, 148. 
 
 Leicester, Robert Dudley, Earl 
 of, 64, 148. 
 
 Lelr, King, the old play, 409. 
 
 Lilly, William, his Latin Gram- 
 mar, 49. 
 Lintot, Bernard, 222. 
 Locrine, 442, 507. 
 
 Lodge, Thomas, 58, 257, 317, 387. 
 London in Shakespeare's time, 
 
 74-76, 124-128. 
 London Prodigal, The, 507. 
 Longfellow, H. W., 411. 
 Lover's Complaint, A, 213, 222, 
 
 329. 
 Love's Labour's Lost, 47, 49, 58, 72, 
 
 162-167, 187, 191,210, 220, 348, 356, 
 
 437, 501, 503. 
 Love's Labour's Won, 232, 366. 
 Love's Martyr, Chester's, 215. 
 Lowell, James Russell, quoted, 
 
 178, 424. 
 Lowndes, W. T., 221, 517. 
 Lucian's Tlmon, 437. 
 Lucrece, 13, 21, 129, 194, 199, 205, 
 
 210, 296, 331, 335, 339. 
 Lucy, Lady Joyce, epitaph of, 98. 
 Lucy, Sir Thomas, 94-99, 103-106, 
 
 111. 
 Luddington, 47, 79, 82. 
 Lydgate, John, 210, 377. 
 
 Mabbe, James, 506. 
 
 Macaulay, T. B., 371, 393. 
 
 Macbeth, 185, 258, 400-408, 420,426. 
 
 Mackay, Charles, quoted, 20. 
 
 Madden, Hon. D. H., 524. 
 
 Malcontent, The, 319. 
 
 Malone, Edmund, quoted, 13, 199, 
 
 214, 403, 423, 429, 438, 476, 527. 
 Manningham, John, his Diary, 
 
 268. 
 Mantuan, The, 49. 
 Marlowe, Christopher, 2, 21, 152. 
 
 158, 179, 180, 185, 203, 251, 257, 
 
 336, 362, 529. 
 Marston, John, 181, 215, 316, 317, 
 
 318, 319. 
 Martin, Richard, 274. 
 
546 
 
 Index 
 
 Massey, Gerald, quoted, 352, 359. 
 Massinger, Philip, 2, 397, 450, 452. 
 Masuccio di Salerno, 174. 
 Mauley, Lord, 292. 
 Measure for Measure, 91, 327, 366, 
 
 368, 370-374, 537. 
 Mencechnii, Plautus's, 169, 269. 
 Menaphon, Robert Greene's, 386. 
 Merchant of Venice, The, 192, 226- 
 
 230, 356. 
 Mercia, Kingdom of, 63. 
 Meres, Francis, 232, 257, 261, 269, 
 
 328, 334, 336, 452, 531. 
 Mermaid Tavern, 74. 
 Merrick, Sir Gilly, 184. 
 Merry Devil of Edmonton, The, 
 
 quoted, 97. 
 Merry Wives of Windsor, The, 
 
 48, 58, 72, 75, 97, 106, 126, 245-250, 
 
 397, 523. 
 Middle Temple Hall, 127, 272-274. 
 Middleton, Thomas, 2, 403. 
 Midsummer - Night's Dream,, A, 
 
 14, 58, 65, 186, 189-191, 203, 326, 
 
 412, 523, 531. 
 Miles Standish, Longfellow's, 
 
 411< 
 Milton, John, 58, 507, 522. 
 Minto, Professor, quoted, 334, 
 
 362. 
 Mirror of Martyrs, quoted, 274. 
 Mlrrour for Magistrates, 409. 
 Money in Shakespeare's day, 295, 
 
 532. 
 Montemayor, Jorge de, 167. 
 Montfort, Simon de, 63. 
 More, Sir Thomas, 127, 179. 
 Morgann, Maurice, on Falstaff, 
 
 235, 249. 
 Morley, Henry, quoted, 537. 
 Mount Tabor, Willis's, quoted, 
 
 41. 
 Mxicedorus, 454. 
 Much Ado About Nothing, 14, 255, 
 
 260-268, 272, 323, 339, 336. 
 
 Mulberry-tree at New Place, 488. 
 Munday, Anthony, 317. 
 
 Nancy, used for Anne and Agnes, 
 79. 
 
 Nash, Anthoay, 485. 
 
 Nash, Edward, 487. 
 
 Nash, John, 485. 
 
 Nash, Thomas, husband of Eliza- 
 beth Hall, 8, 37, 483, 485. 
 
 Nash, Thomas, the dramatist, 
 154, 156, 362, 386. 
 
 Neville, Richard, the "king- 
 maker," 63. 
 
 New Place, 3, 6, 23, 62, 286, 296, 
 487-489. 
 
 Newdigate, John, 351. 
 
 Newdigate-Newdegate, Lady, 
 351. 
 
 Newes out of Purgatorie, quoted, 
 144, 250. 
 
 Newington Butts Theatre, 306. 
 
 Newton, Dr. Thomas, 131. 
 
 Nicholson, Brinsley, quoted, 323. 
 
 Nine Days' Wonder, Kemp's, 
 403. 
 
 Nine Worthies, The, 72, 163. 
 
 Northampton, Mary, Countess 
 of, 24. 
 
 Northbrooke, Rev. John, 138. 
 
 North British Revieiv, quoted, 
 169. 
 
 North's Plutarch, 189, 276, 415, 
 418, 502. 
 
 Noverint, trade of, 532. 
 
 Oberon, 65. 
 
 O'Connor, W. D., on the Sonnets, 
 
 363. 
 Oechelhauser, "W., on Richard 
 
 III, 181. 
 Oldcastle, Sir John, the original 
 
 Falstaff, 231. 
 Old St. Paul's, 127. 
 Oldys, William, 259, 534. 
 
Index 
 
 547 
 
 Ophelia, origin of name, 48. 
 Othello, 323, 327, 370, 392-399, 420, 
 
 526. 
 Ovid, 129, 147, 189, 199, 211. 
 Oxford, Shakespeare at, 123. 
 Oxford students as poachers, 
 
 97, 98. 
 
 Painter (or Paynter), William, 
 368, 437. 
 
 Palladis Tmnia, Meres's, 232, 
 257, 261, 328, 531. 
 
 Pandosto, Greene's, 431. 
 
 Pappe with an Hatchet, quoted, 
 140. 
 
 Parasitaster, quoted, 181. 
 
 Paris Garden, 126, 140. 
 
 Parry, Dr., the conspirator, 104. 
 
 Passionate Pilgrim, The, 217-221, 
 328, 358, 363. 
 
 Paul's, Children of, 309. 
 
 Peachman, Henry, quoted, 45, 52. 
 
 Pecorone, II, Giovanni Fioren- 
 tino's, 228, 250. 
 
 Peele, George, 152, 529. 
 
 Pembroke, Countess of, 415. 
 
 Pembroke, William, Earl of, his 
 Players, 251. 
 
 Penniman, J. H., quoted, 320. 
 
 Pepys, Samuel, 371. 
 
 Pericles, 435, 437-446, 507, 528. 
 
 Petrarch, 361. 
 
 Philipps, Thomas, 304. 
 
 Phillips, Augustine, 298, 325. 
 
 Phillips, Edward, quoted, 12. 
 
 Phcenix and Turtle, The, 213-217, 
 329. 
 
 Pickt-hatch, in London, 127. 
 
 Plague at Stratford, 40 ; at Lon- 
 don, 198, 308, 312, 315, 325, 326. 
 
 Plant-lore of Shakespeare, Ella- 
 combe's, quoted, 61. 
 
 Plautus and The Comedy of Er- 
 rors, 169; Twelfth Night, 269. 
 
 Plays, religious, 70. 
 
 Plutarch, Sir Thomas North's, 
 189, 276, 415, 418, 437, 502. 
 
 Poaching tradition, 94-98, 523. 
 
 Poems, Shakespeare's (1640), 221, 
 329. 
 
 Poems, Shakespeare's (1709), 221. 
 
 Poetaster, Ben Jonson's, 274, 316, 
 318. 
 
 Polydoron, The, quoted, 19. 
 
 Poly-Olbion, Drayton's, 56, 124. 
 
 Pope, Alexander, 15, 246, 274, 438, 
 442. 
 
 Porto, Luigi da, and Romeo and 
 Juliet, 174. 
 
 Portraits of Shakespeare, 534. 
 
 Prior, Matthew, 274. 
 
 Procter, Bryan Waller ("Barry 
 Cornwall "), 443. 
 
 Promos and Cassandra, Whit- 
 stone's, 370. 
 
 Puritan, The, 439. 
 
 Puritanism, 4, 105, 308-315 (oppo- 
 sition to the theatre), 461, 528. 
 
 Puritan Widoiv, The, 507. 
 
 Quartos, The early, 491. 
 
 Queen's Company of Players, 41, 
 147. 
 
 Quiney, Adrian, 34, 302. 
 
 Quiney, Elizabeth, 304. 
 
 Quiney, Richard, 300-304, 468. 
 
 Quiney, Thomas, husband of 
 Judith Shakespeare, 20, 80, 305, 
 468, 532; his children, 470. 
 
 Raleigh, Sir Walter, 363. 
 Ralph Roister Doister, 53. 
 Ratseis Ghost, 293. 
 Ravenscroft, Edward, on Titus 
 
 Andronicus, 160. 
 Reed, Edwin, quoted, 522. 
 Rehearsal, Buckingham's 274. 
 Return from Parnassus, The, 294, 
 
 320, 323. 
 Reynolds, John, quoted, 97. 
 
548 
 
 Index 
 
 Richard II., 182-186, 191, 223, 238, 
 405. 
 
 Richard III., 66, 126, 128, 170, 176- 
 182, 191, 278. 
 
 Richardson, John, 83, 93. 
 
 Riche, Baruaby, 270. 
 
 Robert of Gloucester, 409. 
 
 Rogers, Philip, 299. 
 
 Romeo and Juliet, 172-176, 191, 
 334, 376. 
 
 Romeus and Juliet, Arthur 
 Brooke's, 174. 
 
 Rosalynde, Lodge's, 58, 257. 
 
 Rose Theatre, 306. 
 
 Rowe, Nicholas, his Life of Shake- 
 speare, 8, 94, 133, 245, 260, 296, 307, 
 462, 475; his edition of Shake- 
 speare, 438, 508. 
 
 Rowley, Samuel, 447. 
 
 Rowley, "William, and Pericles, 
 443. 
 
 Ruskin, John, quoted, 48. 
 
 Sackerson, the hear, 126. 
 Sandells, Fulk, 83, 93. 
 Satiromastix, 317, 318. 
 Saxo Grammaticus, 388. 
 Schlegel, A. W., quoted, 170. 
 Schmidt, Alexander, 24, 267. 
 Schoole of Abuse, Gosson's, 
 
 228. 
 Scott, Edward, 465. 
 Scott, Sir Walter, quoted, 63, 65, 
 
 405. 
 Scourge of Folly, John Davies's, 
 
 260. 
 Scourge of Villanie, 181, 317, 
 Sententice Pueriles, 48. 
 Sevin, Adrian, 174. 
 Shakespeare, the name of, 17-24. 
 Shakespeare, Anne, the poet's 
 
 sister, 107. 
 Shakespeare, Mrs. Anne, 78, 82, 85, 
 
 472, 478, 533. 
 Shakespeare, Edmund, 107, 456. 
 
 Shakespeare, Gilbert, 24, 107, 259, 
 458. 
 
 Shakespeare, Hamnet, 93, 286. 
 
 Shakespeare, Henry, the poet's 
 uncle, 25, 60, 286. 
 
 Shakespeare, Joan (1), 35. 
 
 Shakespeare, Joan (2). See Hart, 
 Mrs. Joan. 
 
 Shakespeare, John, 21, 25, 26, 30- 
 35, 37-41, 65, 73, 107-114, 129, 283, 
 291, 304, 305. 
 
 Shakespeare, John, the shoe- 
 maker, 111. 
 
 Shakespeare, Judith, 80, 93, 305, 
 468, 470, 471. 
 
 Shakespeare, Margaret, 35. 
 
 Shakespeare, Mary {nie Arden), 
 26-30, 35, 108, 109, 283, 291, 457. 
 
 Shakespeare, Richard, the poet's 
 brother, 107, 460. 
 
 Shakespeare, Richard, the poet's 
 grandfather, 25. 
 
 Shakespeare, Susanna. See Hall, 
 Mrs. Susanna. 
 
 Shakespeare, Thomas, the poet's 
 uncle, 25. 
 
 Shakespeare, William (for his 
 works see under their respect- 
 ive titles); his birth, 1, 36; 
 infancy, 40; at school, 44 fol.; 
 his homes, 55; Warwickshire 
 education, 57 fol.; at Kenil- 
 worth (?), 65; London educa- 
 tion, 74 fol.; marriage, 78 fol.; 
 betrothal (?), 86 fol. ; birth of 
 children, 93; poaching tradi- 
 tion, 94 fol.; journey to Lon- 
 don, 116 fol. ; the horse-holding 
 tradition, 133-136; in the The- 
 atre, 135, 146; Greene's attack, 
 149; Chettle's defence, 153; his 
 first dramatic work, 156 fol. ; 
 his poems, 194 fol.; visits Strat- 
 ford in 1587 (?), 284; his son 
 dies, 286; buys New Place, 286; 
 
Index 
 
 549 
 
 the coat-of-arms, 288 fol.; his 
 sources of income as actor and 
 author, 292 fol.; purchases of 
 land, etc., 296; investment in 
 tithes, 297; interest in the 
 Globe and Blackfriars Thea^ 
 tres, 298; lawsuits, 299; corre- 
 spondence with Quiney, 300; 
 death of his father, 305; plays 
 at the Blackfriars, 307; acts 
 before Elizabeth, 324; his com- 
 pany licensed by James I., 324; 
 they play at Hampton Court 
 and Whitehall, 326; loses his 
 mother, 457 ; buys more land at 
 Stratford, 457; buys house in 
 London, 460; returns to Strat- 
 ford, 461 ; receives legacy from 
 John Combe, 462; his connec- 
 tion with the plan for enclo- 
 sure of common fields, 463 fol. ; 
 makes his will, 471; his death, 
 473; funeral, 474; his mon- 
 ument, 476; autographs, 532; 
 portraits, 534; a temperate 
 man, 525; his religious views, 
 535. 
 
 Shallow, Justice, and Sir Thomas 
 Lucy, 96, 104, 106. 
 
 Shipton, 121. 
 
 Shottery, 78, 107. 
 
 S., I.M., 507. 
 
 Sidney, Sir Philip, 97, 335. 
 
 Sincklo, an actor, 499. 
 
 Sir John Oldcastle, 442, 507. 
 
 Sly, William, 325. 
 
 Smethwick, John, 493. 
 
 Smith, Prof . C. Alphonso, quoted, 
 506. 
 
 Smith, Ralph, 461. 
 
 Snitterfleld, 88, 109, 283. 
 
 Somerset House, 125. 
 
 Somerville, John, 104. 
 
 Sonnets, Shakespeare's, 21, 205, 
 206, 222, 267, 328-365. 
 
 Southwark, 126. 
 
 Southampton, Henry Wriothes- 
 
 ley. Earl of, 195, 296, 337, 362. 
 Spagnuoli, Giovanni Battista, 
 
 the " Mantuan," 49. 
 Spalding, William, 451. 
 Spanish Tragedy, Kyd's, 161. 
 Spenser, Edmund, 2, 22, 61, 261, 
 
 362, 409, 521. 
 Sport, Shakespeare's knowledge 
 
 of, 523. 
 St. Helen's, Bishopgate, 128. 
 Staunton, Howard, quoted, 163, 
 
 178, 262, 385. 
 Steevens, George, 1, 15; quoted, 
 
 1, 157, 438, 442. 
 Stockwood, Rev. John, quoted, 
 
 142. 
 Stokes, H. P., quoted, 393. 
 Stopes, Mrs. Charlotte C, quoted, 
 
 18, 24, 26, 38, 93, 106, 111, 288, 291, 
 
 349. 
 Stow, John, quoted, 141, 448. 
 Straparola, Giovanni Francesco, 
 
 249. 
 Stratford-on-Avon, 25, 60, 62, 72, 
 
 462. 
 Sturley, Abraham, 300, 302. 
 Supposes, The, by Gascoigne, 252. 
 Suppositi, I, 252. 
 Sussex, Earl of, his company of 
 
 players, 160. 
 Swinburn, Thomas, quoted, 30, 
 
 88. 
 Swinburne, Algernon C, quoted, 
 
 219, 333. 
 
 Tabard Inn, The, 126. 
 Tamburlaine, Marlowe's, 180. 
 Taming of a Shrew, The, 251, 
 Taming of the Shreiv, The, 49, 
 
 250-254, 366, 523. 
 Tarlton, Richard, 144, 250. 
 Tawyer, an actor (?) 499. 
 Tempest, The, 170, 423-429, 531. 
 
550 
 
 Inde:; 
 
 Temple Gardens, 125. 
 Temple Grafton, 92. 
 Tennyson, quoted, 1, 71, 446. 
 Terence, in Taming of the Shrew, 
 
 49. 
 Theatre, The (a playhouse), 136- 
 
 146, 198, 306. 
 Theatres in London, 136. 
 Theatrum Poeticum, Phillips's, 
 
 quoted, 12. 
 Theobald, Lewis (or Louis), 287, 
 
 486. 
 Thomas, Lord Cromwell, 507. 
 Thorpe, Thomas, publisher of the 
 
 Sonnets, 328. 
 Thotisand and One Nights, The, 
 
 253. 
 Timon, Lucian's, 437. 
 Timon of Athens, 323, 356, 376, 
 
 435-437, 502. 
 Tittis Andronicus, 159-161, 191, 
 
 376, 435. 
 Tofte, Robert, quoted, 162. 
 Tourneur, Cyril, 2. 
 Tredici Piacevoli Notte, Le, 249. 
 Troilvs and Cressida, 321, 366, 
 
 374-382. 
 True Tragedie of Richard, Duke 
 
 of York, 157, 159. 
 Tu Quoque, Greene's, 295. 
 Turnbull Street, London, 127. 
 Tusser, Thomas, quoted, 52. 
 Twelfth Night, 89, 127, 255, 269- 
 
 274, 323, 367, 525, 528. 
 Twine, Lawrence, 439. 
 Two Gentlemen of Verona, The, 
 
 59, 167-169, 191, 334, 531. 
 Two Noble Kinsmen, The, 435, 
 
 450^52. 
 Tyler, Thomas, on the Sonnets, 
 
 340, 345, 349. 
 
 Udall, Nicholas, 53. 
 
 Ulrici, Hermann, 157, 367, 398. 
 
 Upton, John, 168. 
 
 Variorum editions of Shake- 
 speare, 16. 
 
 Venesyon Comodey, The, 227. 
 
 Venus and Adonis, 13, 129, 194- 
 207, 296, 331, 335, 337, 523, 531. 
 
 Vere, Lady Bridget, 350, 356. 
 
 Vere, Lady Elizabeth, 352. 
 
 Vernon, Elizabeth, 195, 352. 
 
 Verplanck, G. C, quoted, 168, 186, 
 190, 234, 246, 258, 265, 270, 368, 
 372, 377, 443. 
 
 Verstegan, quoted, 18. 
 
 VeHue's Commonwealth, 296. 
 
 Vortigern, 527. 
 
 Vox Gn'oculi, quoted, 139. 
 
 Walker, Henry, 457. 
 
 Walker, William, a godson of 
 
 Shakespeare, 457. 
 Walton, Izaak, 393. 
 War, The Barons', 63. 
 War of the Theatres, 316. 
 War of the Theatres, Penniman's, 
 
 320. 
 Ward, Rev. John, 12, 299, 473. 
 Warner, William, 409. 
 Wars of the Roses, 63, 68. 
 Warton, Thomas, 13, 425. 
 Warwick Castle, 63, 70. 
 Warwickshire, 56-73, 197. 
 Watson, Bishop, quoted, 88. 
 Watson, Thomas, 335. 
 Webbe, Agnes, 27. 
 Webbe, Robert, 283. 
 Webster, John, 2. 
 Weever, John, 274. 
 Werder, Karl, on Hamlet, 390. 
 Westward for Smelts, 250, 422. 
 Whatcot, Robert, 461. 
 Whately, Anne, 92. 
 Wheler, R. B., quoted, 39, 81, 488. 
 Whetstone, George, 370. 
 White, Richard Grant, quoted, 
 
 162, 175, 176, 187, 229, 248, 252, 
 
 258, 377, 380, 404, 447, 499. 
 
Index 
 
 5S^ 
 
 ■ Wilhelm Meister, 389. 
 Wilkins, George, and Pericles, 
 
 439, 445. 
 "Willis, R., quoted, 41. 
 Wilmecote, home of Mary Arden, 
 
 26-29. 
 Wilson, Jack, 498. 
 Wilson, Rev. Thomas, vicar of 
 
 Stratford, 482. 
 Winter's Tale, The, 92, 397, 420, 
 
 424, 429-434, 528. 
 Wise, J. R., quoted, 60. 
 Witch, The, Middleton's, 403. 
 Wits Miserie, Lodge's, quoted, 
 
 387. 
 Wolsey, Cardinal, 307. 
 Wood, Anthony, 13, 506. 
 
 Woodstock, 122. 
 
 Worcester, Earl of, his company 
 of players, 41. 
 
 Wordsworth, William, quoted, 
 58, 333, 393. 
 
 Wriothesley, Henry. See South- 
 ampton, Earl of. 
 
 Wurmsser von Vendenhagen, 
 Hans Jacob, 394. 
 
 Wurtemberg-Mumpelgard, Duke 
 of, 394. 
 
 Wyndham, George, on Venus 
 and Adonis, etc., 204^207. 
 
 Yonge (or Young), Bartholomew, 
 
 167. 
 Yorkshire Tragedy, The, 507. 
 

 
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