[ The story so far: "It is most consonant with the customs of the time to suppose that Shakespeare was ... a servitor ; and, if that were the case, we should naturally expect to find him raised afterwards to the rank of a sharer in the theatre, not a proprietor, but one who shared in the division of the daily profits of the representations. Mr. Collier's important discovery proves that Shakespeare had attained that rank in the Blackfriar's Theatre in November, 1589." ]
Innumerable theories have been propounded as to the precise period when Shakespeare commenced writing for the stage ; but no certain information having been procured, and the question being capable of several probable solutions, it shall here be passed over, and left to the reader's own judgment, to be formed from what has just been, and will hereafter be stated. But one of the most valuable facts connected with the history of Shakespeare's plays, although recorded on the testimony of Dryden, has not received that prominent notice which it deserves. Dryden, in his corrected prologue to the first play produced by Charles Davenant, 1677, taking the occasion of asserting that no grand effort in this kind was ever the earliest attempt of a dramatist, refers to the productions of Jonson, Fletcher, and Shakespeare, in these terms :—
Your Ben and Fletcher, in their first young flight, Did no Volpone, nor no Arbaces write, But hopped about and short excursions made From bough to bough, as if they were afraid, And each was guilty of some Slighted Maid. Shakespeare's own muse her Pericles first bore; The Prince of Tyre was elder than the Moor. |
--------------------------- * The work was actually published in 1590, for it was entered on the Stationers' Company registers towards the close of that year. --------------------------- |
The thrice three Muses mourning for the death Of learning, late deceas'd in beggary ; |
Where be the sweete delights of learnings treasure, That wont with comick sock to beautefie The painted theaters, and fill with pleasure The listners eyes and eares with melodie ; In which I late was wont to raine as Queene, And maske in mirth with Graces well beseene ?
O all is gone, and all that goodly glee, |
And him beside sits ugly Barbarisme, And brutish Ignorance, ycrept of late Out of dredd darknes of the deep abysme, Where being bredd, he light and heaven does hate : They in the mindes of men now tyrannize, And the faire scene with rudenes foule disguize.
All places they with follie have possest,
All these, and all that els the comick stage
And he the man, whom Nature selfe had made
In stead therof scoffing Scurrilitie,
But that same gentle spirit, from whose pen
So am I made the servant of the manie, |
Mr. Todd, whose opinion and argument I am following, believes this poem to have been written in 1580, and he conjectures Sir Philip Sidney to be the person here alluded to. The notice of Sidney in the ‘ Ruines of Time,’ in which he is also termed gentle spirit, strongly supports this opinion ; and Sidney is known to have been the author of masques. He is several times termed Willy in an elegy quoted by Malone, so that the appellation need be no proof against Mr. Todd's theory :—
We dream'd our Willy aye should live, So sweet a sound his pipe did give. |
And there, though last, not least, is Aetion, A gentler shepheard may nowhere be found ; Whose muse, full of high thoughts invention, Doth, like himselfe, heroically sound. |
If wofull experience may moove you (Gentlemen) to beware, or unheard of wretchednes intreat you to take heed, I doubt not but you will look backe with sorrow on your time past, and endevour with repentance to spend that which is to come. Wonder not, (for with thee will I firste beginne) thou famous gracer of tragedians, that Green, who hath said with thee like the foole in his heart, There is no God, should now give glorie unto His greatnesse : for penetrating is His power, His hand lyes heavy upon me, He hath spoken unto me with a voyce of thunder, and I have left, He is a God that can punish enemies. Why should thy excellent wit, his gift, be so blinded, that thou shouldest give no glory to the Giver ? Is it pestilent Machivilian policie that thou hast studied ? O punish follie ! What are his rules but meere confused mockeries, able to extirpate in small time the generation of mankinde. For if sic volo, sic jubeo, holde in those that are able to commaund, and if it be lawfull fas et nefas, to doo any thing that is beneficiall, onley tyrants should possesse the earth, and they striving to exceed in tiranny, should ech to other be a slaughter-man ; till the mightyest outliving all, one stroke were left for death, that in one age mans life should end. The brother of this dyabolicall atheisme is dead, and in his life had never the felicitie he aymed at, but as he beganne in craft, lived in feare, and ended in dispaire. Quam inscrutabilia sunt Dei judicia ! This murderer of many brethren had his conscience seared like Cayne : this betrayer of him that gave his life for him, inherited the portion of Judas : this apostata perished as ill as Julian : and wilt thou, my friend, be his disciple ? Looke unto mee, by him perswaded to that libertie, and thou shalt finde it an infernall bondage. I know the least of my demerits merit this miserable death, but wilfull striving against knowne truth exceedeth all the terrors of my soule. Deferre not (with mee) till this last point of extremitie ; for little knowest thou how in the end thou shalt be visited. |
--------------------------- * I quote from an undated edition, not being acquainted with one so early as 1592. It appears, however, from ‘ Kind-Harts Dreame,’ that the address here given was substantially, if not literally, the same as in the first edition. It would be very desirable to ascertain whether any alterations were made in it after its first publication. --------------------------- |
With thee I joyne young Juvenall, that byting satyrist that lastly with mee together writ a comedie. Sweet boy, might I advise thee, be advised, and get not many enemies by bitter words : inveigh against vaine men, for thou canst doo it, no man better, no man so well : thou hast a libertie to reproove all, and name none : for one being spoken to, all are offended ; none beeing blamed, no man is injuried. Stop shallow water still running, it will rage ; tread on a worme and it will turne : then blame not schollers who are vexed with sharpe and bitter lines, if they reproove thy too much liberty of reproofe. And thou, no less deserving then the other two, in some things rarer, in nothing inferiour, driven, as myselfe, to extreame shifts, a little have I to say to thee ; and were it not an idolatrous oath, I would sweare by sweet S. George, thou art unworthy better hap, sith thou dependest on so meane a stay. Base minded men, all three of you, if by my misery yee bee not warned : for unto none of you (like me) sought those burs to cleave : those puppits (I mean) that speake from our mouths, those Anticks garnisht in our colours. Is it not strange that I, to whome they all have bin beholding ; is it not like that you, to whom they all have bin beholding, shall (were yee in that case that I am now) be both of them at once forsaken? Yes, trust them not ; for there is an upstart crow beautified with our feathers, that with his Tygres heart, wrapt in a players hyde, supposes hee is as well able to bombast out a blank verse as the best of you ; and beeing an absolute Johannes fac totum, is, in his owne conceyt, the onely Shake-scene in a countrey. Oh that I might intreat your rare wittes to bee imployed in more profitable courses, and let these apes imitate your past excellence, and never more acquaynte them with your admyred inventions. I knowe the best husband of you all will never proove an usurer, and the kindest of them all will never proove a kinde nurse ; yet whilst you may, seeke you better maisters ; for it is pitty men of such rare wits should bee subject to the pleasures of such rude groomes. In this I might insert two more, that both have writte against these buckram gentlemen ; but let their owne work serve to witnesse against theyr owne wickednesse, if they persever to maintaine any more such peasants. For other new commers, I leave them to the mercie of these painted monsters, who (I doubt not) will drive the best minded to despise them ; for the rest, it skils not though they make a jeast at them. But now returne I again to you three, knowing my miserie is to you no newes ; and let me heartilie intreate you to be warned by my harmes. Delight not, as I have done, in irreligious oaths, for from the blasphemers house a curse shall not depart : Despise drunkennes, which wasteth the wit, and making men all equall unto beasts : Flie lust, as the deathsman of the soule, and defile not the temple of the Holy Ghost. Abhorre those epicures, whose loose life hath made religion loathsome to your eares, and when they sooth you with tearms of mastership, remember Robert Greene, whome they have often so flattered, perishes now for want of comfort. Remember, gentlemen, your lives are like so many light tapers, that are with care delivered to all of you to maintaine ; these with wind-puft wrath may be extinguished, which drunkennesse put / p.145 / out, which negligence let fall ; for mans time of itselfe is not so short, but it is more shortened by sinne. The fire of my light is now at the last snuffe, and the want of wherewith to sustaine it, there is no substance for life to feed on. Trust not then (I beseech yee) left to such weake stayes : for they are as changeable in minde, as in many attires. Well, my hand is tyred, and I am forst to leave where I would beginne ; for a whole booke cannot contain their wrongs, which I am forst to knit up in some few lines of words. Desirous that you should live, though himselfe be dying. |
--------------------------- * Having entered into this subject very minutely in my Introduction to the ‘ First Sketches of the Second and Third Parts of Henry VI.’ 8vo. 1843, I am unwilling to repeat the argument in this place. --------------------------- |
/ p.146 /
About three moneths since died M. Robert Greene, leaving many papers in sundry bookesellers hands ; among other his Groatsworth of Wit, in which a letter written to divers play-makers is offensively by one or two of them taken, and because 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 schollers, 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, and with one of them 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 have 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 seene his demeanor no lesse civill than he exelent in the qualitie he professes : Besides, divers of worship have reported his uprightness of dealing, which argues his honesty, and his facetious grace in writting, which 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 sometime 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 briefe, 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.* |
--------------------------- * This extract is taken from the copy of ‘ Kind-Hart's Dreame’ in the Bodleian Library, which formerly belonged to Burton, and differs in some trifling respects from other copies of the same tract. --------------------------- |
The tragedy of Hamlet, Hamlet being perform'd by Mr. Betterton, Sir William, having seen Mr. Taylor of the Black-fryars company act it, who, being instructed by the author, Mr. Shakespear, taught Mr. Betterton in every particle of it ; which, by his exact performance of it, gain'd him esteem and reputation superlative to all other plays. Horatio by Mr. Harris, the King by Mr. Lilliston, the Ghost by Mr. Richards (after by Mr. Medburn), Polonius by Mr. Lovel, Rosencrans by Mr. Dixon, Guilderstern by Mr. Price, first grave-maker by Mr. Underhill, the second by Mr. Dacres, the Queen by Mrs. Davenport, Ophelia by Mrs. Sanderson. No succeeding tragedy for several years got more reputation or money to the company than this. King Henry the 8th. This play, by order of Sir William Davenant, was all new cloath'd in proper habits : the King's was new, all the lords, the cardinals, the bishops, the doctors, proctors, lawyers, tip-staves ; new scenes. The part of the King was so right and justly done by Mr. Betterton, he being instructed in it by Sir William, who had it from old Mr. Lowen, that had his instructions from Mr. Shakespear himself, that I dare and will aver none can or will come near him in this age in the performance of that part. Mr. Harris's performance of Cardinal Wolsey was little inferior to that, he doing it with such just state, port and mien, that I dare affirm none hitherto has equall'd him. Every part, by the great care of Sir William, being exactly perform'd, it being all new cloath'd and new scenes. It continu'd acting 15 days together, with general applause. |
--------------------------- * Notes and Various Readings to Shakespeare, 1779, i. 60. --------------------------- |
--------------------------- * Old men's characters were frequently performed by boys. Ben Jonson has verses on an actor of such parts who died at the age of thirteen.
The Newe Metamorphosis, 1600, MS.
--------------------------- |
One of Shakespeare's younger brothers, who lived to a good old age, even some years, as I compute, after the restoration of King Charles II., 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 brother's fame enlarged, and his dramatick entertainments 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, &c. 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 amongst them. This opportunity made them greedily inquisitive 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 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 almost 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 carried by another person to a table, at which he was seated among some company who were eating, and one of them sung a song. |
Some followed her [Fortune] by acting* all mens parts, These on a stage she rais'd (in scorne) to fall, And made them mirrors by their acting arts, Wherin men saw their† faults, though ne'r so small ; Yet some she guerdond not to their desarts ; ‡ But othersome were but ill-action all, Who, while they acted ill, ill staid behinde, By custome of their maners, in their minde. |
--------------------------- * Stage plaiers. † Shewing the vices of the time. ‡ W. S., R. B. --------------------------- |
Some say, good Will, which I in sport do sing, Had'st thou not plaid some kingly parts in sport, Thou hadst bin a companion for a king, And beene a king among the meaner sort. Some others raile, but raile as they thinke fit, Thou hast no rayling, but a raigning wit : And honesty thou sow'st, which they do reape, So to increase their stocke, which they do keepe. |
--------------------------- * This is surely not a conjectural addition by Oldys, as suspected by Mr. Collier, p. 213. Oldys was contemporary with the publication of the anecdote, and would not state a fact in direct terms such as these, had he not believed it. The note of Oldys has not hitherto been cited properly. † "What inconsiderate distraccion hathe attached the players of our daies, for comedians I cannot call them tyll they leave makeinge hotchepotches of their playes, and begynne to observe decorum dewring the representacion of godds, goddesses, and mightie potentates, promiscuously and confusedly in there interludes, betakeinge themselves to the sock solie, leaveinge the stately buskyn, because they will gett but little, as I suppose, by makeinge men to weepe. What madnesse is it, I saye, that possesseth them under faigned persons to be censureing of their soveraigne : surely thoughe there poets for these many yeares / p.151 / have, for the most part, lefte foles and devills owt of their playes, yet nowe on the suddayne they make them all playe the fooles most notoriouslye and impudently in medlinge with him (in waye of taxacion) by whome they live and have in manner there very beinge."—MS. Sloane 3543, f. 20. This curious extract is taken from a treatise on hunting, dedicated to the Earl of Northampton. --------------------------- |
And though now bent on this high embassy, Yet stoop we to take up our cousin's glove. |
/ p.152 /
Sweet swan of Avon, what a sight it were To see thee in our waters yet appear, And make those flights upon the banks of Thames, That so did take Eliza and our James ! |
“ In maiden meditation, fancy-free,” |
Nor doth the silver-tonged Melicert Drop from his honied muse one sable teare, To mourne her death that graced his desert, And to his laies opend her royall eare, Shepheard, remember our Elizabeth, And sing her Rape, done by that Tarquin, Death. |
Our Shakespear wrote too in an age as blest, The happiest poet of his time and best ; A gracious prince's favour chear'd his muse, A constant favour he ne'er fear'd to lose. Therefore he wrote with fancy unconfin'd, And thoughts that were immortal as his mind. |
/ p.154 /
It has been already said that the Merry Wives of Windsor was written in 1593, and this fact is as well ascertained as any point of the kind can well be, where we have internal evidence alone for a guide.*
---------------------------
*
See my introduction to the First Sketch of Shakespeare's Merry Wives of Windsor, 8vo. 1842. Mr. Knight's account of a contemporary work describing the visit of a German duke to England in 1592, is the most curious illustration of this play yet produced.
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Now, if the tradition above mentioned as recorded by Rowe be correct, it seems probable that the play of Henry IV. was written before this period, for it has been proved that Sir John Oldcastle was originally the name of the well-known character Sir John Falstaff, and there appears every reason for believing the change of name was not made in the case of the Merry Wives of Windsor. "It may not be improper to observe," says Rowe, "that this part of Falstaff is said to have been written originally under the name of Oldcastle ; some of that family being then remaining, the Queen was pleased to command him to alter it, upon which he made use of Falstaff." This statement is confirmed by a very curious dedication prefixed by Dr. James to his ‘ Legend and Defence of the Noble Knight and Martyr, Sir Jhon Oldcastel,’ an unpublished MS., written about the year 1625, in the Bodleian Library,—
Sir Harrie Bourchier, you are descended of noble auncestrie, and, in the dutie of a good man, love to heare and see faire reputation preservd from slander and oblivion. Wherefore to you I dedicate this edition of Ocleve, where Sir Jhon Oldcastell apeeres to have binne a man of valour and vertue, and onely lost in his owne times because he would not bowe under the foule superstition of Papistrie, from whence, in so great light of Gosple and learning, that there is not yet a more universall departure is to me the greatest scorne of men. But of this more in another place, and in preface will you please to heare me that which followes. A young gentle ladie of your acquaintance, having read the |
--------------------------- † This letter was first published by me in a little work "On the Character of Sir John Falstaff, as originally exhibited by Shakespeare in the two parts of King Henry IV." 12mo. 1841, and some of the observations in the text are adopted from that publication, with a few trifling variations. --------------------------- |
/ p.155 /
works of Shakespeare, made me this question : How Sir Jhon Falstaffe, or Fastolf, as it is written in the statute book of Maudlin Colledge in Oxford, where everye daye that societie were bound to make memorie of his soule, could be dead in Harrie the Fifts time and againe live in the time of Harrie the Sixt to be banisht for cowardize ? Whereto I made answeare that this was one of those humours and mistakes for which Plato banisht all poets out of his commonwealtth ; that Sir Jhon Falstaffe was in those times a noble valiant souldier, as apeeres by a book in the Heralds Office dedicated unto him by a herald whoe had binne with him, if I well remember, for the space of 25 yeeres in the French wars ; that he seemes allso to have binne a man of learning, because, in a librarie of Oxford, I finde a book of dedicating churches sent from him for a present unto Bisshop Wainflete, and inscribed with his owne hand. That in Shakespeare's first shewe of Harrie the Fift, the person with which he undertook to playe a buffone was not Falstaffe, but Sir Jhon Oldcastle,* and that offence beinge worthily taken by personages descended from his title, as peradventure by manie others allso whoe ought to have him in honourable memorie, the poet was putt to make an ignorant shifte of abusing Sir Jhon Falstophe, a man not inferior of vertue, though not so famous in pietie as the other, whoe gave witnesse unto the truth of our reformation with a constant and resolute martyrdom, unto which he was pursued by the priests, bishops, moncks, and friers of those dayes. Noble sir, this is all my preface. God keepe you, and me, and all Christian people from the bloodie designes of that cruell religion.
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--------------------------- * In Amends for Ladies, 4to. Lond. 1639, a play by Nathaniel Field, which, according to Mr. Collier, could not have been written before 1611, Falstaff's description of honour is mentioned by a citizen of London as if it had been delivered by Sir John Oldcastle :
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And I to Ford will likewise tell How Falstaff, varlet vile, Would have her love, his dove would prove, And eke his bed defile. |
--------------------------- * The early allusions in other writers to the character of Falstaff being so much more numerous than those to Oldcastle, may be considered as an argument in favour of the opinion that the change of name was made soon after the appearance of the play. Amongst others, I do not think the following have been noticed by writers on this subject :—"His postlike legges were answerable to the rest of the great frame which they supported, and, to conclude, Sir Bevis, Ascapart, Gogmagog, or our English Sir John Falstaff, were but shrimps to this bezzeling bombard's longitude, latitude, altitude, and crassitude, for he passes and surpasses the whole Germane multitude."—Taylor's Workes, ed. 1630, iii. 80. "Sir John Falstaffe robb'd with a bottle of sacke ; so doth hee take mens purses with a wicked roule of tobacco at his girdle."—New and Choise Characters of Severall Authors, 1615. --------------------------- |
--------------------------- † " Shakespear sais he was deeply delighted with the singing of Dowland the lutanist, but Spencers deep conceits he thought surpassed all others. See in his sonnets the Friendly Concord. That . . . John Dowland and Tho. Morley or W. Bird are said to have set several of those sonnets to musick as well as others."—Oldys, MS. notes to Langbaine. In 1597, Weelkes published the music to the poem commencing, " My flocks feed not." --------------------------- |
/ p.158 /
Sweete wth sweetes warre not, joy delights in joy ; Why lovest yu that wch thou receavest not gladly, Or els receavest wth pleasure thine annoy ?
By unions maried, doe offend thy eare, They doe but sweetlie chide thee, whoe confoundes In singlenes a parte wch thou shouldst beare.
Strikes each on each by mutuall orderinge, Resemblinge childe, and syer, and happy mother, Wch all in one this single note dothe singe : Whose speechless songe, beeinge many, seeming one, Singe this to thee, Thou single shalt prove none.
W. Shakspeare.
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There are several of the sonnets which, I think, could only have been produced at a very early age, some most probably before his marriage ; and the quibbling stanza, quoted at p. 110, may be regarded as one amongst many proofs of this which might be pointed out. Many of them were no doubt composed at Stratford.*
/ p.159 /
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*
The boundary elm represented on the next page is one of the few relics of Shakespeare's Stratford, and this summer is the last of its existence, for it has died of old age, and must give way for another. This tree is mentioned in a perambulation dated 1591, and being within a few hundred yards of the poet's birthplace, was doubtlessly a familiar object with him.
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They were anterior to the beautiful poem ‘ Venus and Adonis,’ which was published by Shakespeare in 1593, as "the first heir of my invention," no doubt his first production of any magnitude. This was followed in 1594 by the publication of ‘ Lucrece,’ and both these poems attained great popularity, and were frequently reprinted. It is remarkable that con-
The boundary elm, Stratford.
temporary writers refer to them much oftener than to the plays. In the year in which ‘ Lucrece’ was published, Willobie thus alludes to it in his ‘ Avisa,’ 4to. 1594,—
Though Collatine have deerely bought To high renowne a lasting life, And found that most in vaine have sought To have a faire and constant wife ; Yet Tarquyne pluct his glistering grape, And Shake-speare paints poore Lucrece rape. |
--------------------------- * There is a very curious copy of this work, written in cypher, among the Ashmolean MSS. No. 1153. See Mr. Black's Catalogue, col. 1020. --------------------------- |
And Shakespeare, thou, whose hony-flowing vaine, Pleasing the world, thy praises doth obtaine, Whose Venus and whose Lucrece (sweete and chaste) Thy name in fame's immortall booke have plac't ; Live ever you, at least in fame live ever : Well may the bodye dye, but fame dies never. |
Shakespeare, that nimble Mercury, thy braine, Lulls many hundred Argus-eyes asleepe ; So fit for all thou fashionest thy vaine. At th’ horse-foote fountaine thou hast drunk full deepe ; Vertues or vices theame to thee all one is : Who loves chaste life, there's Lucrece for a teacher , Who list read lust, there's Venus and Adonis, True modell of a most lascivious leatcher. Besides in plaies thy wit windes like Meander, When needy new-composers borrow more Thence (sic) Terence doth from Plautus or Menander : But to praise thee aright I want thy store. Then let thine owne works thine owne worth upraise, And help t’adorne thee with deserved baies. |
--------------------------- * This tradition is also mentioned by Oldys in a commonplace book, MS. Addit. 12523, p. 127, which is apparently an independent authority. --------------------------- |
The humble petition of Thomas Pope, Richard Burbadge, John Hemings, Augustine Phillips, William Shakespeare, William Kempe, William Slye, Nicholas Tooley, and others, servaunts to the Right Honorable the Lord Chamberlaine to her Majestie. Sheweth most humbly, that your petitioners are owners and players of the private house, or theatre, in the precinct and libertie of the Blackfriers, which hath beene for many yeares used and occupied for the playing of tragedies, comedies, histories, enterludes, and playes. That the same, by reason of its having beene so long built, hath fallen into great decay, and that besides the reparation thereof, it has beene found necessarie to make the same more convenient for the entertainement of auditories coming thereto. That to this end your petitioners have all and eche of them put down sommes of money, according to their shares in the said theatre, and which they have justly and honestly gained by the exercise of their qualitie of stage-players ; but that certaine persons, (some of them of honour) inhabitants of the said precinct and libertie of the Blackfriers, have, as your petitioners are infourmed, besought your honourable lordshipps not to permitt the said private house any longer to remaine open, but hereafter to be shut up and closed, to the manifest and great injurie of your petitioners, who have no other meanes whereby to maintain their wives and families, but by the exercise of their qualitie as they have heretofore done. Furthermore, that in the summer season your petitioners are able to playe at their new built house on the Bankside calde the Globe, but that in the winter they are compelled to come to the Blackfriers ; and if your honorable Lordshipps give consent unto that which is prayde against your petitioners, they will not onely, / p.163 / while the winter endures, loose the meanes whereby they now support themselves and their families, but be unable to practise themselves in anie playes or enterludes, when calde upon to perform for the recreation and solace of her Matie and her honorable court, as they have beene heretofore acustomed. The humble prayer of your petitioners therefore is, that your honorable lordshipps will grant permission to finish the reparations and alterations they have begun ; and as your petitioners have hitherto been well ordred in their behaviour, and just in their dealings, that your honorable lordshipps will not inhibit them from acting at their above namde private house in the precinct and libertie of the Blackfriers, and your petitioners, as in dutie most bounden, will ever pray for the increasing honor and happinesse of your honorable lordshipps. |
--------------------------- * See a letter quoted by Mr. Collier, p. 156. † Mr. Collier, however, has not discovered the purport of the document. When Malone mentioned the MS. in 1796, in his Inquiry, p. 215, he probably had other papers with it detailing more particularly the object of complaint, otherwise he could not have concluded from the paper here printed that "our poet appears to have lived in Southwark, near the Bear-garden, in 1596." The incessant noise and tumult raised by this place of amusement must have been a source of great annoyance to the immediate neighbourhood. --------------------------- |
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