In order to make the reader acquainted with the origin of the English stage, such as Shakespeare found it when he became connected with it, it is necessary to mention that a miracle-play, or mystery (as it has been termed in modern times), is the oldest form of dramatic composition in our language. The stories of productions of this kind were derived from the Sacred Writings, from the pseudo-evangelium, or from the lives and legends of saints and martyrs.

Miracle-plays were common in London in the year 1170; and as early as 1119 the miracle-play of St. Katherine had been represented at Dunstaple. It has been conjectured, and indeed in part established^{1 note}, that some of these performances were in French, as well as in Latin; and it was not until the reign of Edward III. that they were generally acted in English. We have three existing series of miracle-plays, all of which have been recently printed; the Towneley collection by the Surtees Club, and those known as the Coventry and Chester pageants by the Shakespeare Society. The Abbotsford Club has likewise printed, from a manuscript at Oxford, three detached miracle-plays which once, probably, formed a portion of

a connected succession of productions of that class and description.

During about 300 years this species of theatrical entertainment seems to have flourished, often under the auspices of the clergy, who used it as the means of religious instruction; but prior to the reign of Henry VI., a new kind of drama had become popular, which by writers of the time was denominated a moral, or moral play, and more recently a morality. It acquired this name from the nature and purpose of the representation, which usually conveyed a lesson for the better conduct of human life, the characters employed not being scriptural, as in miracle-plays, but allegorical, or symbolical. Miracle-plays continued to be represented long after moral plays were introduced, but from a remote date abstract impersonations had by degrees, not now easily traced, found their way into miracle-plays: thus, perhaps, moral plays, consisting only of such characters, grew out of them.

A very remarkable and interesting miracle-play, not founded upon the Sacred Writings, but upon a popular legend, and all the characters of which, with one exception, purport to be real personages, has recently been discovered in the library of Trinity College, Dublin, in a manuscript certainly as old as the later part of the reign of Edward IV.^{2 note} It is perhaps the only specimen of the kind in our language; and as it was unknown to all who have hitherto written on the history of our ancient drama, it will not here be out of place to give some account of the incidents to which it relates, and of the persons concerned in them. The title of the piece, and the year in which the events are supposed to have occurred, are given at the close, where we are told that it is “The Play of the Blessed Sacrament^{3 note},” and that

the miracle to which it refers was wrought “in the forest of Arragon, in the famous city of Araclea, in the year of our Lord God 1461.” There can be no doubt that the scene of action was imaginary, being fixed merely for the greater satisfaction of the spectators as to the reality of the occurrences, and as little that a legend of the kind was of a much older date than that assigned in the manuscript, which was probably near the time when the drama had been represented.

In its form it closely resembles the miracle-plays which had their origin in Scripture-history, and one of the characters, that of the Saviour, common in productions of that class, is introduced into it: the rest of the personages engaged are five Jews, named Jonathas, Jason, Jasdon, Masphat, and Malchus; a Christian merchant called Aristorius, a bishop, Sir Isidore a priest, a physician from Brabant called “Mr. Brundyche,” and Colle his servant^{4 note}. The plot relates to the purchase of the Eucharist by the Jews from Aristorius for 100l., under an assurance also that if they find its miraculous powers verified, they will become converts to Christianity. Aristorius, having possession of the key of the church, enters it secretly, takes away the Host, and sells it to the Jews. They put it to various tests and torments: they stab “the cake” with their daggers, and it bleeds, while one of the Jews goes mad at the sight. They next attempt to nail it to a post, but the Jew who uses the hammer has his hand torn off; and here the doctor and his servant, Mr. Brundyche and Colle, make their appearance in order to attend the

wounded Jew; but after a long comic scene between the quack and his man, highly illustrative of the manners of the time, they are driven out as impostors. The Jews then proceed to boil the Host, but the water turns blood-red, and, taking it out of the cauldron with pincers, they throw it into a blazing oven: the oven, after blood has run out “at the crannies,” bursts asunder, and an image of the Saviour rising, he addresses the Jews, who are as good as their word, for they are converted on the spot. They kneel to the Christian bishop, and Aristorius having confessed his crime and declared his repentance, is forgiven after a suitable admonition, and a strict charge never again to buy or sell.

This very singular and striking performance is opened, as was usual with miracle-plays, by two Vexillators, who explain the nature of the story about to be represented in alternate stanzas; and the whole performance is wound up by an epilogue from the bishop, enforcing the moral, which of course was intended to illustrate, and impress upon the audience, the divine origin of the doctrine of transubstantiation. Were it necessary to our design, and did space allow of it, we should be strongly tempted to introduce some characteristic extracts from this hitherto unseen production; but we must content ourselves with saying, that the language in several places appears to be older than the reign of Edward IV., or even of Henry VI., and that we might be disposed to carry back the original composition of the drama to the period of Wickliffe, and the Lollards.

It was not until the reign of Elizabeth that miracle-plays were generally abandoned, but in some distant parts of the kingdom they were persevered with even till the time of James I. Miracle-plays, in fact, gradually gave way to moral plays, which presented more variety of situation and character; and moral plays in turn were superseded by a species of mixed drama, which

was strictly neither moral play nor historical play, but a combination of both in the same representation.

Of this singular union of discordant materials, no person who has hitherto written upon the history of our dramatic poetry has taken due notice; but it is very necessary not to pass it over, inasmuch as it may be said to have led ultimately to the introduction of tragedy, comedy, and history, as we now understand the terms, upon the boards of our public theatres. No blame for the omission can fairly be imputed to our predecessors, because the earliest specimens of this sort of mixed drama, which remain to us, have been brought to light within a comparatively few years. The most important of these is the “Kynge Johan” of Bishop Bale. We are not able to settle with precision the date when it was originally written, but it was evidently performed, with additions and alterations, after Elizabeth came to the throne^{5 note}

administered to him by a monk. This drama resembles a moral play in the introduction of abstract impersonations, and a historical play in the adaptation of a portion of our national annals, with real characters, to the purposes of the stage. Though performed in the reign of Elizabeth, we may carry back the first composition and representation of “Kynge Johan” to the time of Edward VI.; but, as it has been printed by the Camden Society, it is not necessary that we should enlarge upon it.

The object of Bale's play was, as we have stated, to advance the Reformation under Edward VI.; but in the reign of his successor a drama of a similar description, and of a directly opposite tendency, was written and acted. It has never been mentioned, and as it exists only in manuscript of the time^{6 note}, it will not be out of place to quote its title, and to explain briefly in what manner the anonymous author carries out his design. He calls his drama “Respublica,” and he adds that it was “made in the year of our Lord 1553, and the first year of the most prosperous reign of our most gracious Sovereign, Queen Mary the First.” He was supposed to speak the prologue himself, in the character of “a Poet;” and although every person he introduces is in fact called by some abstract name, he avowedly brings forward the Queen herself as “Nemesis, the Goddess of redress and correction,” while her kingdom of England is intended by “Respublica,” and its inhabitants represented by “People:” the Reformation in the Church is distinguished as “Oppression;” and Policy, Authority, and Honesty, are designated “Avarice,” “Insolence,” and “Adulation.” All this is distinctly stated by the author on his title-page, while he also employs the impersonations of Misericordia, Veritas, Justitia, and Pax, (agents not unfrequently

resorted to in the older miracle-plays) as the friends of “Nemesis,” the Queen, and as the supporters of the Roman Catholic religion in her dominions.

Nothing would be gained by a detail of the import of the tedious interlocutions between the characters, represented, it would seem, by boys, who were perhaps the children of the Chapel Royal; for there are traces in the performance that it was originally acted at court. Respublica is a widow greatly injured and abused by Avarice, Insolence, Oppression, and Adulation; while People, using throughout a rustic dialect, also complain bitterly of their sufferings, especially since the introduction of what had been termed “Reformation” in matters of faith: in the end Justitia brings in Nemesis, to effect a total change by restoring the former condition of religious affairs; and the piece closes with the delivery of the offenders to condign punishment. The production was evidently written by a man of education; but, although there are many attempts at humour, and some at variety, both in character and situation, the whole must have been a very wearisome performance, adapted to please the court by its general tendency, but little calculated to accomplish any other purpose entertained by the writer. In all respects it is much inferior to the “Kynge Johan” of Bale, which it followed in point of date, and to which, perhaps, it was meant to be a counterpart.

In the midst of the performance of dramatic productions of a religious or political characer, each party supporting the views which most accorded with the author's individual opinions, John Heywood, who was a zealous Roman Catholic, and who subsequently suffered for his creed under Edward VI. and Elizabeth, discovered a new species of entertainment, of a highly humorous, and not altogether of an uninstructive kind; which seems to have been very acceptable to the sovereign and nobility, and to have obtained for the author a

distinguished character as a court dramatist, and ample rewards as a court dependent^{7 note}. These were properly called “interludes,” being short comic pieces, represented ordinarily in the interval between the feast and the banquet; and we may easily believe that they had considerable influence in the settlement of the form which our stage-performances ultimately assumed. Heywood does not appear to have begun writing until after Henry VIII. had been some years on the throne; but, while Skelton was composing such tedious eleborations as his “Magnificence,” which, without any improvement, merely carries to a still greater length of absurdity the old style of moral plays, Heywood was writing his “John Tib and Sir John,” his “Four Ps,” his “Pardoner and Friar,” and pieces of that description, which presented both variety of matter and novelty of construction, as well as considerable wit and drollery in the language. He was a very original writer, and certainly merits more admiration than any of his dramatic contemporaries.

To the commencement of the reign of Elizabeth we may refer several theatrical productions which make approaches, more or less near, to comedy, tragedy, and history, and still retain many of the known features of moral plays. “Tom Tiler and his Wife” is a comedy in its incidents; but the allegorical personages, Desire, Destiny, Strife, and Patience, connect it immediately with the earlier species of stage-entertainment. “The Conflict of Conscience,” on the other hand, is a tragedy on the fate of an historical personage; but Conscience, Hypocrisy, Avarice, Horror, &c., are called in aid of the purpose of the writer. “Appius and

Virginia” is in most respects a history, founded upon facts; but Rumour, Comfort, and Doctrine, are importantly concerned in the representation. These, and other productions of the same class, which it is not necessary to particularize, show the gradual advances made towards a better, because a more natural, species of theatrical composition^{8 note}. Into miracle-plays were gradually introduced allegorical personages, who finally usurped the whole stage; while they in turn yielded to real and historical characters, at first only intended to give variety to abstract impersonations. Hence the origin of comedy, tragedy, and history, such as we find them in the works of Shakespeare, and of some of his immediate predecessors.

What is justly to be considered the oldest known comedy in our language is of a date not much posterior to the reign of Henry VIII., if, indeed, it were not composed while he was on the throne. It has the title of “Ralph Roister Doister,” and it was written by Nicholas Udall, who was master of Eton school in 1540, and who died in 1557^{9 note}. It is on every account a very remarkable performance; and as the scene is laid in London, it affords a curious picture of metropolitan manners. The regularity of its construction, even at that early date, may be gathered from the fact, that in the single copy which has descended to us^{1 note} it is divided

into acts and scenes. The story is one of common, every-day life; and none of the characters are such as people had been accustomed to find in ordinary dramatic entertainments. The piece takes its name from its hero, a young town-gallant, who is mightily enamoured of himself, and who is encouraged in the good opinion he entertains of his own person and accomplishments by Matthew Merrygreek, a poor relation, who attends him in the double capacity of companion and servant. Ralph Roister Doister is in love with a lady of property, called Custance, betrothed to Gawin Goodluck, a merchant, who is at sea when the comedy begins, but who returns before it concludes. The main incidents relate to the mode in which the hero, with the treacherous help of his associate, endeavours to gain the affections of Custance. He writes her a letter, which Merrygreek reads without a due observance of the punctuation, so that it entirely perverts the meaning of the writer: he visits her while she is surrounded by her female domestics, but he is unceremoniously rejected: he resolves to carry her by force of arms, and makes an assault upon her habitation; but with the assistance of her maids, armed with mops and brooms, she drives him from the attack. Then, her betrothed lover returns, who has been misinformed on the subject of her fidelity, but he is soon reconciled on an explanation of the facts; and Ralph Roister Doister, finding that he has no chance of success, and that he has only been cajoled and laughed at, makes up his mind to be merry at the wedding of Goodluck and Custance.

In all this we have no trace of anything like a moral play, with the exception, perhaps, of the character of Matthew Merrygreek, which, in some of its features, its love of mischief and its drollery, bears a resemblance to the Vice of the older drama^{2 note}. Were the dialogue

modernised, the comedy might be performed, even in our own day, to the satisfaction of many of the usual attendants at our theatres.

In considering the merits of this piece, we are to recollect that Bishop Still's “Grammer Gurton's Needle,” which, until of late, was held to be our earliest comedy, was written some twenty years after “Ralph Roister Doister:” it was not acted at Cambridge until 1566, nine years subsequent to the death of Udall; and it is in every point of view an inferior production. The plot is a mere piece of absurdity, the language is provincial (well fitted, indeed, to the country where the scene is laid, and to the clownish persons engaged in it) and the manners depicted are chiefly those of illiterate rustics. The story, such as it is, relates to the loss of a needle with which Gammer Gurton had mended Hodge's breeches, and which is afterwards found by the hero, when he is about to sit down. The humour, generally speaking, is as coarse as the dialogue; and though it is impossible to deny that the author was a man of talents, they were hardly such as could have produced “Ralph Roister Doister.”

The drama which we have been accustomed to regard as our oldest tragedy, and which probably has a just claim to the distinction, was acted on 18th January, 1562, and printed in 1565^{3 note}. It was originally called

“Gorboduc;” but it was reprinted in 1571 under the title of “Forrex and Porrex,” and a third time in 1590 as “Gorboduc.” The first three acts were written by Thomas Norton, and the last two by Thomas Sackville, afterwards Earl of Dorset, and it was performed “by the gentlemen of the Inner Temple.” Although the form of the Greek drama is observed in “Gorboduc,” and each act concluded by a chorus, yet Sir Philip Sidney, who admitted (in his “Apology of Poetry”) that it was “full of stately speeches and well-sounding phrases,” could not avoid complaining that the unities of time and place had been disregarded. Thus, in the very outset and origin of our stage, as regards what may be termed the regular drama, the liberty, which allowed full exercise to the imagination of the audience, and which was afterwards happily carried to a greater excess, was distinctly asserted and maintained. It is also to be remarked, that “Gorboduc” is the earliest known play in our language in which blankverse was employed^{4 note}; but of the introduction of blankverse upon our public stage, we shall have occasion to speak hereafter. It was an important change, which requires to be separately considered.

We have now entered upon the reign of Elizabeth; and although, as already observed, moral plays and even miracle-plays were still acted, we shall soon see what a variety of subjects, taken from ancient history, from mythology, fable, and romance, were employed for the purposes of the drama. Stephen

Gosson, one of the earliest enemies of theatrical performances, writing his “Plays confuted in Five Actions” a little after the period of which we are now speaking, but adverting to the drama as it had existed some years before, tells us, that “the Palace of Pleasure, the Golden Ass, the Æthiopian History, Amadis of France, and the Round Table,” as well as “comedies in Latin, French, Italian, and Spanish, have been thoroughly ransacked to furnish the play-houses in London.” Hence, unquestionably, many of the materials of what is termed our romantic drama were obtained. The accounts of the Master of the Revels between 1570 and 1580 contain the names of various plays represented at court; and it is to be noted, that it was certainly the practice at a later date, and it was probably the practice at the time to which we are now adverting, to select for performance before the Queen such pieces as were most in favour with public audiences: consequently, the mention of a few of the titles of productions represented before Elizabeth at Greenwich, Whitehall, Richmond, or Nonesuch, will show the character of the popular performances of the day. We derive the following names from Mr. P. Cunningham's “Extracts from the Revels' Accounts,” printed for the Shakespeare Society:—

These are only a few out of many dramas, establishing

the multiplicity of sources to which the poets of the time resorted^{5 note}. Nevertheless, we find on the same indisputable authority, that moral plays were not yet altogether discarded in the court entertainments; for we read, in the original records, of productions the titles of which prove that they were pieces of that allegorical description: among these are “Truth, Faithfulness, and Mercy,” and “The Marriage of Mind and Measure,” which is expressly called “a moral.”

Our main object in referring to these pieces has been to show the great diversity of subjects which had been dramatised before 1580. In 1581 Barnabe Rich published his “Farewell to Military Profession^{6 note},” consisting of a collection of eight novels; and at the close of the work he inserts this strange address “to the reader:”—“Now thou hast perused these histories to the end, I doubt not but thou wilt deem of them as they worthily deserve, and think such vanities more fitter to be presented on a stage (as some of them have been) than to be published in print.” The fact is, that three dramas are extant which more or less closely resemble three of Rich's novels: one of them “Twelfth Night;” another, “The Weakest goeth to the Wall;” and the third the old play of “Philotus^{7 note}.”

Upon the manner in which the materials thus procured were then handled we have several contemporaneous authorities. George Whetstone, (an author who has principally acquired celebrity by writing an earlier drama upon the incidents employed by Shakespeare in his “Measure for Measure”) in the dedication of his “Promos and Cassandra,” gives a compendious description of the nature of popular theatrical representations in 1578. “The Englishman (he remarks) in this quality is most vain, indiscreet, and out of order. He first grounds his work on impossibilities; then, in three hours, runs he through the world, marries, gets children, makes children men, men to conquer kingdoms, murder monsters, and bringeth gods from heaven, and fetcheth devils from hell: and, that which is worst, their ground is not so unperfect as their working indiscreet; not weighing, so the people laugh, though they laugh them for their follies to scorn. Many times, to make mirth, they make a clown companion with a king: in their grave councils they allow the advice of fools; yea, they use one order of speech for all persons, a gross indecorum.” This, it will be perceived, is an accurate account of the ordinary license taken in our romantic drama, and of the reliance of poets, long before the time of Shakespeare, upon the imaginations of their auditors.

To the same effect we may quote a work by Stephen Gosson, to which we have before been indebted,— “Plays confuted in Five Actions,”—which must have been printed about 1580:—“If a true history (says Gosson) be taken in hand, it is made, like our shadows, longest at the rising and falling of the sun, shortest of all at high noon; for the poets drive it commonly unto such points, as may best show the majesty of their pen in tragical speeches, or set the hearers agog with discourses of love; or paint a few antics to fit their own humours with scoffs and taunts; or bring in a show, to furnish the stage when it is bare.” Again, speaking of

plays professedly founded upon romance, and not upon “true history,” he remarks: “Sometimes you shall see nothing but the adventures of an amorous knight, passing from country to country for the love of his lady, encountering many a terrible monster, made of brown paper, and at his return is so wonderfully changed, that he cannot be known but by some posy in his tablet, or by a broken ring, or a handkerchief, or a piece of cockle-shell.” We can hardly doubt that when Gosson wrote this passage he had particular productions in his mind, and several of the character he describes are still extant.

Sir Philip Sidney is believed to have written his “Apology of Poetry” in 1583, and we have already referred to it in connexion with “Gorboduc.” His observations, upon the general character of dramatic representations in his time, throw much light on the state of the stage a very few years before Shakespeare is supposed to have quitted Stratford-upon-Avon, and attached himself to a theatrical company. “Our tragedies and comedies (says Sidney) are not without cause cried out against, observing neither rules of honest civility, nor skilful poetry . . . . But if it be so in Gorboduc, how much more in all the rest, where you shall have Asia of the one side, and Afric of the other, and so many other under-kingdoms, that the player, when he comes in, must ever begin with telling where he is, or else the tale will not be conceived. Now you shall have three ladies walk to gather flowers, and then we must believe the stage to be a garden: by and by we hear news of a shipwreck in the same place; then, we are to blame if we accept it not for a rock. Upon the back of that comes out a hideous monster with fire and smoke, and then the miserable beholders are bound to take it for a cave; while, in the meantime, two armies fly in, represented with four swords and bucklers, and then what hard heart will not

receive it for a pitched field? Now, of time they are much more liberal; for ordinary it is that two young princes fall in love: after many traverses she is got with child, delivered of a fair boy; he is lost, groweth a man, falleth in love, and is ready to get another child, and all this in two hours' space: which how absurd it is in sense, even sense may imagine, and art hath taught, and all ancient examples justified.” He afterwards comes to a point previously urged by Whetstone; for Sidney complains that plays were “neither right tragedies nor right comedies, mingling kings and clowns, not because the matter so carrieth it, but thrust in the clown by head and shoulders, to play a part in majestical matters with neither decency nor discretion; so as neither the admiration and commiseration, nor right sportfulness is by their mongrel tragi-comedy obtained.”

It will be remarked that, with the exception of the instance of “Gorboduc,” no writer we have had occasion to cite mentions the English Chronicles, as having yet furnished dramatists with stories for the stage; and we may perhaps infer that resort was not had to them, for the purposes of the public theatres, until after the date of which we are now speaking.

Having thus briefly adverted to the nature and character of dramatic representations from the earliest times to the year 1583, and having established that our romantic drama was of ancient origin, it is necessary shortly to describe the circumstances under which plays were at different early periods performed.

There were no regular theatres, or buildings permanently constructed for the purposes of the drama, until after 1575. Miracle-plays were sometimes exhibited in churches and in the halls of corporations, but more frequently upon moveable stages, or scaffolds, erected in the open air. Moral plays were subsequently performed under nearly similar circumstances, excepting that a practice had grown up, among the nobility and wealthier

gentry, of having dramatic entertainments at particular seasons in their own residences^{8 note}. These were sometimes performed by a company of actors retained in the family, and sometimes by itinerant players^{9 note}, who belonged to large towns, or who called themselves the servants of members of the aristocracy. In 14 Eliz. an act was passed allowing strolling actors to perform, if licensed by some baron or nobleman of higher degree, but subjecting all others to the penalties inflicted upon vagrants. Therefore, although many companies of players went round the country, and acted as the servants of some of the nobility, they had no legislative protection until 1572. It is a singular fact, that the earliest known company of players, travelling under the name and patronage of one of the nobility, was that of the Duke of Gloucester, afterwards Richard III.^{1 note} Henry VII. had two distinct bodies of “actors of interludes” in his pay, and from henceforward the profession of a player became well understood and recognised. In the later part of the reign

of Henry VII., the players of the Dukes of Norfolk and Buckingham, and of the Earls of Arundel, Oxford, and Northumberland, performed at court. About this period, and somewhat earlier, we also hear of companies attached to particular places; and in coeval records we read of the players of York, Coventry, Lavenham, Wycombe, Chester, Manningtree, Evesham, Mile-end, Kingston, &c.

In the reign of Henry VIII., and perhaps in that of his predecessor, the gentlemen and singing-boys of the Chapel Royal were employed to act plays and interludes before the court; and afterwards the children of Westminster, St. Paul's, and Windsor, under their several masters, are not unfrequently mentioned in the household books of the palace, and in the accounts of the department of the revels^{2 note}.

In 1514 the king added a new company to the dramatic retinue of the court, besides the two companies which had been paid by his father, and the associations of theatrical children. In fact, at this period dramatic entertainments, masques, disguisings, and revels of every description, were carried to a costly excess. Henry VIII. raised the sum, until then paid for a play, from 6l. 13s. 4d. to 10l. William Cornyshe, the master of the children of the chapel, on one occasion was paid no less a sum than 200l., in the money of that time, by way of reward; and John Heywood, the author of interludes before mentioned, who was also a player upon the virginals, had a salary of 20l. per annum, in addition to his other emoluments. During seasons of festivity a Lord of Misrule was regularly appointed to superintend the sports, and he also was separately and liberally remunerated. The example of the

court was followed by the courtiers, and the companies of theatrical retainers, in the pay, or acting in various parts of the kingdom under the names of particular noblemen, became extremely numerous. Religious houses gave them encouragement, and even assisted in the getting up and representation of the performances, especially shortly before the dissolution of the monasteries: in the account-book of the Prior of Dunmow, between March 1532 and July 1536, we find entries of payments to Lords of Misrule there appointed, as well as to the players of the King, and of the Earls of Derby, Exeter, and Sussex^{3 note}.

In 1543 was passed a statute, rendered necessary by the polemical character of some of the dramas publicly represented, although, not many years before, the king had himself encouraged such performances at court, by being present at a play in which Luther and his wife were ridiculed^{4 note}

plays, rhymes, songs, and other fantasies” of a religious or doctrinal tendency, but at the same time carefully provides, that the clauses shall not extend to “songs, plays, and interludes” which had for object “the rebuking and reproaching of vices, and the setting forth of virtue; so always the said songs, plays, or interludes meddle not with the interpretations of Scripture.”

The permanent office of Master of the Revels, for the superintendance of all dramatic performances, was created in 1546, and Sir Thomas Cawarden was appointed to it with an annual salary of 10l. A person of the name of John Bernard was made Clerk of the Revels, with an allowance of 8d. per day and livery^{5 note}.

It is a remarkable point, established by Mr. Tytler^{6 note}, that Henry VIII. was not yet buried, and Bishop Gardiner and his parishioners were about to sing a dirge for his soul, when the actors of the Earl of Oxford posted bills for the performance of a play in Southwark. This was long before the construction of any regular theatre on the Bankside; but it shows at how early a date that part of the town was selected for such exhibitions. When Mr. Tytler adds, that the players of the Earl of Oxford were “the first that were kept by any nobleman,” he falls into an error, because Richard III., and others of the nobility, as already remarked, had companies of players attached to their households. We have the evidence of Puttenham, in his “Art of English Poesie,” 1589, for stating that the Earl of Oxford, under whose name the players in 1547 were about to perform, was himself a dramatist.

Very soon after Edward VI. came to the throne, severe measures were taken to restrain not only dramatic performances, but the publication of dramas. Playing and printing plays were first entirely suspended; then, the companies of noblemen were allowed to perform, but not without special authority; and finally, the sign manual, or the names of six of the Privy Council were required to their licences. The objection stated was, that the plays had a political, not a polemical, purpose. One of the first acts of Mary's government, was to issue a proclamation to put a stop to the performance of interludes calculated to advance the principles of the Reformation; and we may be sure that the play ordered at the coronation of the queen was of a contrary description^{7 note}. It appears on other authorities, that for two years there was an entire cessation of public dramatic performances; but in this reign the representation of the old Roman Catholic miracle-plays was partially and authoritatively revived.

It is not necessary to detail the proceedings in connexion with theatrical representations at the opening of the reign of Elizabeth. At first plays were discountenanced, but by degrees they were permitted; and the queen seems at all times to have derived much pleasure from the services of her own players, those of her nobility, and of the different companies of children belonging to Westminster, St. Paul's, Windsor, and the Chapel Royal. The members of the inns of court also performed “Gorboduc” on 18th January, 1562; and on February 1st, an historical play, under the name of

“Julius Cæsar,” was represented, but by what company is no where mentioned.

In 1572 the act was passed (which was renewed with additional force in 1597) to restrain the number of itinerant performers. Two years afterwards, the Earl of Leicester obtained from Elizabeth a patent under the great seal, to enable his players, James Burbage, John Perkyn, John Lanham, William Johnson, and Robert Wilson, to perform “comedies, tragedies, interludes, and stage-plays,” in any part of the kingdom, with the exception of the metropolis^{8 note}.

The Lord Mayor and Aldermen succeeded in excluding the players from the strict boundaries of the city, but they were not able to shut them out of the liberties; and it is not to be forgotten that James Burbage and his associates were supported by court favour generally, and by the powerful patronage of the Earl of Leicester in particular. Accordingly, in the year after they had obtained their patent, James Burbage and his fellows took a large house in the precinct of the dissolved monastery of the Black Friars, and converted it into a theatre. This was accomplished in 1576, and it is the first time we hear of any building set apart for theatrical representations. Until then the various companies of actors had been obliged to content themselves with churches, halls, with temporary erections in the streets, or with inn yards, in which they raised a stage, the spectators standing below, or occupying the galleries that surrounded the open space^{9 note}. Just about

the same period two other edifices were built for the exhibition of plays in Shoreditch, one of which was called “The Curtain^{10 note},” and the other “The Theatre.” Both these are mentioned as in existence and operation in 1577^{1 note}. Thus we see that two buildings close to the walls of the city, and a third within a privileged district in the city, all expressly applied to the purpose of stage-plays, were in use almost immediately after the date of the Patent to the players of the Earl of Leicester. It is extremely likely, though we have no distinct evidence of the fact, that one or more play-houses were opened about the same time in Southwark; and we know that the Rose theatre was standing there not many years afterwards^{2 note}. John Stockwood, a puritanical preacher, published a sermon in 1578, in which he asserted that there were “eight ordinary places” in and near London for dramatic exhibitions, and that the united profits were not less than £2000 a year, at least £12,000 of our present money. Another divine, of the name of White, equally opposed to such performances, preaching in 1576, called the play-houses at that time erected “sumptuous theatres.” No doubt, the puritanical zeal of these divines had

been excited by the opening of the Blackfriars, the Curtain, and the Theatre, in 1576 and 1577, for the exclusive purpose of the drama; and the five additional places, where plays, according to Stockwood, were acted before 1578, were most likely a play-house at Newington-butts, or inn-yards, converted occasionally into theatres.

An important fact, in connexion with the manner in which dramatic performances were patronized by Queen Elizabeth, has been recently brought to light^{3 note}. It has been hitherto supposed that in 1583 she selected one company of twelve performers, to be called “the Queen's players;” but it seems that she had two separate associations in her pay, each distinguished as “the Queen's players.” Tylney, the master of the revels at the time, records, in one of his accounts, that in March, 1583, he had been sent for by her Majesty “to chuse out a company of players:” Richard Tarlton and Robert Wilson were placed at the head of that association, which was probably soon afterwards divided into two distinct bodies of performers. In 1590, John Lanham was the leader of one body^{4 note}, and Lawrence Dutton of the other.

We have thus brought our sketch of dramatic performances and performers down to about the same period, the year 1583. We propose to continue it to

1590, and to assume that as the period not, of course, when Shakespeare first joined a theatrical company, but when he began writing original pieces for the stage. This is a matter which is more distinctly considered in the biography of the poet; but it is necessary here to fix upon some date to which we are to extend our introductory account of the progress and condition of theatrical affairs. What we have still to offer will apply to the seven years from 1583 to 1590.

The accounts of the revels at court about this period afford us little information, and indeed for several years, when such entertainments were certainly required by the Queen, we are without any details either of the pieces performed, or of the cost of preparation. We have such particulars for the years 1581, 1582, 1584, and 1587, but for the intermediate years they are wanting^{5 note}.

The accounts of 1581, 1582, and 1584, give us the following names of dramatic performances of various kinds exhibited before the Queen:—

This list of dramas (the accounts mention that others were acted without supplying their titles) establishes that moral plays had not yet been excluded^{6 note}. The “Game of the Cards” is expressly called “a comedy

or moral,” in the accounts of 1582; and we may not unreasonably suppose that “Delight,” and “Beauty and Housewifry,” were of the same class. “The Story of Pompey,” and “Agamemnon and Ulysses,” were evidently performances founded upon ancient history, and such may have been the case with “The History of Telomo.” “Love and Fortune” has been called “the play of Fortune” in the account of 1573; and we may feel assured that “Ariodante and Genevora” was the story told by Ariosto, which also forms part of the plot of “Much Ado about Nothing.” “The History of Ferrar” was doubtless “The History of Error” of the account of 1577, the clerk having written the title by his ear; and we may reasonably suspect that “Felix and Philiomena” was the tale of Felix and Felismena, narrated in the “Diana” of Montemayor. It is thus evident, that the Master of the Revels and the actors exerted themselves to furnish variety for the entertainment of the Queen and her nobility; but we still see no trace (“Gorboduc” excepted) of any play at court, the materials for which were obtained from the English Chronicles. It is very certain, however, that anterior to 1588 such pieces had been written, and acted before public audiences^{7 note}; but those who catered for the court in these matters might not consider it expedient to exhibit, in the presence of the Queen, any play which involved the actions or conduct of her predecessors. The companies of players engaged in these representations were those of the Queen, the Earls of Leicester, Derby, Sussex, Oxford, the Lords Hunsdon and Strange, and the children of the Chapel Royal and of St. Paul's.

About this date the number of companies of actors performing publicly in and near London seems to have been very considerable. A person, who calls himself

“a soldier,” writing to Secretary Walsingham, in January, 1586^{8 note}, tells him, that “every day in the week the players' bills are set up in sundry places of the city,” and after mentioning the actors of the Queen, the Earl of Leicester^{9 note}
, the Earl of Oxford, and the Lord Admiral, he goes on to state that not fewer than two hundred persons, thus retained and employed, strutted in their silks about the streets. It may be doubted whether this statement is much exaggerated, recollecting the many noblemen who had players acting under their names at this date, and that each company consisted probably of eight or ten performers. On the same authority we learn that theatrical representations upon the Sabbath had been forbidden; but this restriction does not seem to have been imposed without a considerable struggle. Before 1581 the Privy Council had issued an order upon the subject, but it was disregarded in some of the suburbs of London; and it was not until after a fatal exhibition of bear-baiting at Paris Garden, upon Sunday, 13 June, 1583, when many persons were killed and wounded by the falling of a scaffold, that the practice of playing, as well as bear-baiting, on the Sabbath was at all generally checked. In 1586, as far as we can judge from the information that has come down to our day, the order which had been issued in this respect was pretty strictly enforced. At this period, and afterwards, plays were

not unfrequently played at court on Sunday, and the chief difficulty therefore seems to have been to induce the Privy Council to act with energy against similar performances in public theatres.

The annual official statement of the master of the revels merely tells us, in general terms, that between Christmas 1586, and Shrovetide 1587, “seven plays, besides feats of activity, and other shows by the children of Paul's, her Majesty's servants, and the gentlemen of Gray's Inn,” were prepared and represented before the Queen at Greenwich. No names of plays are furnished, but in 1587 was printed a tragedy, under the title of “The Misfortunes of Arthur,” which purports to have been acted by some of the members of Gray's Inn before the Queen, on 28 Feb. 1587: this, in fact, must be the very production stated in the revels' accounts to have been got up and performed by these parties; and it requires notice, not merely for its own intrinsic excellence as a drama, but because, in point of date, it is the second play founded upon English history represented at court, as well as the second original theatrical production in blank-verse that has been preserved^{1 note}. The example, in this particular, had been set, as we have already shown, in “Gorboduc,” fifteen years before; and it is probable, that in that interval not a few of the serious compositions exhibited at court were in blank-verse, but it had not yet been used on any of our public stages.

The main body of “The Misfortunes of Arthur” was the authorship of Thomas Hughes, a member of Gray's Inn; but some speeches and two choruses (which are in rhyme) were added by William Fulbecke and Francis Flower, while no less a man than Lord Bacon assisted

Christopher Yelverton and John Lancaster in the preparation of the dumb-shows. Hughes evidently took “Gorboduc” as his model, both in subject and style, and, like Sackville and Norton, he adopted the form of the Greek and Roman drama, and adhered more strictly than his predecessors to the unities of time and place. The plot relates to the rebellion of Mordred against his father, king Arthur, and part of the plot is very revolting, on account of the incest between Mordred and his stepmother Guenevora, Mordred himself being the son of Arthur's sister: there is also a vast deal of blood and slaughter throughout, and the catastrophe is the killing of the son by the father, and of the father by the son; so that a more painfully disagreeable story could hardly have been selected. The author, however, possessed a very bold and vigorous genius; his characters are strongly drawn, and the language they employ is consistent with their situations and habits: his blank-verse, both in force and variety, is superior to that of either Sackville or Norton^{2 note}.

It is very clear, that up to the year 1580, about which date Gosson published his “Plays confuted in Five Actions,” dramatic performances on the public stages of London were sometimes in prose, but more constantly in rhyme. In his “School of Abuse,” 1579, Gosson speaks of “two prose books played at the Bell Savage^{3 note};” but in his “Plays confuted” he tells us, that “poets send their verses to the stage upon such feet as continually are rolled up in rhyme.” With one one or two exceptions all the plays publicly acted, of a date anterior to 1590, that have come down to us, are

either in prose or in rhyme^{4 note}. The case seems to have been different, as already remarked, with some of the court-shows and private entertainments; but we are now adverting to the pieces represented at such places as the Theatre, the Curtain, Blackfriars, and in inn-yards adapted temporarily to dramatic amusements, to which the public was indiscriminately admitted. The earliest work, in which the employment of blank-verse for the purpose of the common stage is noticed, is an epistle by Thomas Nash introducing to the world his friend Robert Greene's “Menaphon,” in 1587^{5 note}: there, in reference to “vain-glorious tragedians,” he says, that they are “mounted on the stage of arrogance,” and that they “think to out-brave better pens with the swelling bombast of bragging blank verse.” He afterwards talks of the “drumming decasyllibon” they employed, and ridicules them for “reposing eternity in the mouth of a player.” This question is farther illustrated by a production by Greene, published in the next year, “Perimedes, the Blacksmith,” from which it is evident that Nash had an individual allusion in what he had said in 1587. Greene fixes on the author of the tragedy of “Tamburlaine,” whom he accuses of “setting the end of scholarism in an English blank verse,” and who, it should seem, had somewhere accused Greene of not being able to write it.

We learn from various authorities, that Christopher Marlowe^{6 note}

“Shakespeare was the first who, to shun the pains of continual rhyming, invented that kind of writing which we call blank-verse.” The distinction belongs to Marlowe, the greatest of Shakespeare's predecessors, and a poet who, if he had lived, might, perhaps, have been a formidable rival of his genius. We have too much reverence for the exhaustless originality of our great dramatist, to think that he cannot afford this, or any other tribute to a poet, who, as far as the public stage is concerned, deserves to be regarded as the inventor of a new style of composition.

That the attempt was viewed with jealousy there can be no doubt, after what we have quoted from Nash and Greene. It is most likely that Greene, who was older than Nash, had previously written various dramas in rhyme; and the bold experiment of Marlowe having been instantly successful, Greene was obliged to abandon his old course, and his extant plays are all in blank-verse. Nash, who had attacked Marlowe in 1587, before 1593 (when Marlowe was killed) had joined him in the production of a blank-verse tragedy on the story of Dido, which was printed in 1594.

It has been objected to “Tamburlaine,” that it is written in a turgid and ambitious style, such indeed as Nash and Greene ridicule; but we are to recollect that Marlowe was at this time endeavouring to wean audiences from the “jigging veins of rhyming mother-wits,” and that in order to satisfy the ear for the loss of the jingle, he was obliged to give what Nash calls “the swelling bombast of bragging blank-verse.” This consideration will of itself account for breaches of a more correct taste to be found in “Tamburlaine.” In the Prologue, besides what we have already quoted, Marlowe tells the audience to expect “high astounding terms,” and he did not disappoint expectation. Perhaps the better to reconcile the ordinary frequenters of public theatres to the change, he inserted various

scenes of low comedy, which the printer of the edition in 1590 thought fit to exclude, as “digressing, and far unmeet for the matter.” Marlowe likewise sprinkled couplets here and there, although it is to be remembered, that having accomplished his object of substituting blank-verse by the first part of “Tamburlaine,” he did not, even in the second part, think it necessary by any means so frequently to introduce occasional rhymes. In those plays which there is ground for believing to be the first works of Shakespeare, couplets, and even stanzas, are more frequent than in any of the surviving productions of Marlowe. This circumstance is, perhaps, in part to be accounted for by the fact (as far as we may so call it) that our great poet retained in some of his performances portions of older rhyming dramas, which he altered and adapted to the stage; but in early plays, which are to be looked upon as entirely his own, Shakespeare appears to have deemed rhyme more necessary to satisfy the ear of his auditory than Marlowe held it when he wrote his “Tamburlaine the Great.”

As the first employment of blank-verse upon the public stage by Marlowe is a matter of much importance, in relation to the history of our more ancient drama, and to the subsequent adoption of that form of composition by Shakespeare, we ought not to dismiss it without affording a single specimen from “Tamburlaine the Great.” The following is a portion of a speech by the hero to Zenocrate, when first he meets and sues to her:—

Fairer than whitest snow on Scythian hills,
Thy person is more worth to Tamburlaine,
Than the possession of the Persian crown,
Which gracious stars have promis'd at my birth.
A hundred Tartars shall attend on thee,
Mounted on steeds swifter than Pegasus:
Thy garments shall be made of Median silk,
Enchas'd with precious jewels of mine own,
More rich and valurous than Zenocrate's:
With milk-white harts upon an ivory sled
Thou shalt be drawn amidst the frozen poles,
And scale the icy mountains' lofty tops,
Which with thy beauty will be soon dissolv'd^{7 note}.”

Nash having alluded to “Tamburlaine” in 1587, it is evident that it could hardly have been written later than 1585 or 1586, which is about the period when it has been generally, and with much appearance of probability, supposed that Shakespeare arrived in London. In considering the state of the stage just before our great dramatist became a writer for it, it is clearly, therefore, necessary to advert briefly to the other works of Marlowe, observing in addition, with reference to “Tamburlaine,” that it is a historical drama, in which not a single unity is regarded; time, place, and action, are equally set at defiance, and the scene shifts at once to or from Persia, Scythia, Georgia, and Morocco, as best suited the purpose of the poet.

Marlowe was also, most likely, the author of a play in which the Priest of the Sun was prominent, as Greene mentions it with “Tamburlaine” in 1588, but no such piece is now known: he however wrote “The Tragical History of the Life and Death of Doctor Faustus,” “The Massacre at Paris,” “The rich Jew of Malta,” and an English historical play, called “The troublesome

Reign and lamentable Death of Edward the Second,” besides aiding Nash in “Dido Queen of Carthage,” as already mentioned^{8 note}. If they were not all of them of a date anterior to any of Shakespeare's original works, they were written by a man who had set the example of the employment of blank-verse upon the public stage, and perhaps of the historical and romantic drama in all its leading features and characteristics. His “Edward the Second” affords sufficient proof of both these points: the versification displays, though not perhaps in the same abundance, nearly all the excellences of Shakespeare; and in point of construction, as well as in interest, it bears a strong resemblance to the “Richard the Second” of our great dramatist. It is impossible to read the one without being reminded of the other, and we can have no difficulty in assigning “Edward the Second” to an anterior period^{9 note}.

The same remark as to date may be made upon the plays which came from the pen of Robert Greene, who died in September, 1592, when Shakespeare was rising into notice, and exciting the jealousy of dramatists who had previously furnished the public stages. This jealousy broke out on the part of Greene in, if not before, 1592, (in which year his “Groatsworth of Wit,”

a posthumous work, was published by his contemporary Henry Chettle^{1 note}) when he complained that Shakespeare had “beautified himself” with the feathers of others: he alluded, as we apprehend, to the manner in which Shakespeare had availed himself of the two parts of the “Contention between the Houses, York and Lancaster,” in the authorship of which there is much reason to suppose Greene had been concerned^{2 note}. Such evidence as remains upon this point has been adduced in our “Introduction” to “The Third Part of Henry VI.;” and a perusal of the two parts of the “Contention,” in their original state, will serve to show the condition of our dramatic literature at that great epoch of our stage-history, when Shakespeare began to acquire celebrity^{3 note}. “The True Tragedy of Richard III.” is a drama of about the same period, which has come down to us in a much more imperfect state, the original manuscript having been obviously very corrupt. It was printed in 1594, and Shakespeare, finding it in the possession of the company to which he was attached, probably had no scruple in constructing his “Richard the Third” of some of its rude materials. It seems not unlikely that Robert Greene, and perhaps some other popular dramatists of his day, had been engaged upon “The True Tragedy of Richard III.^{4 note}”

The dramatic works published under the name or

initials of Robert Greene, or by extraneous testimony ascertained to be his, were “Orlando Furioso,” (founded upon the poems of Boiardo and Ariosto) first printed in 1594^{5 note}; “Friar Bacon and Friar Bungay,” also first printed in 1594, and taken from a popular story-book of the time; “Alphonsus King of Arragon,” 1599, for which we know of no original; and “James the Fourth” of Scotland, 1598, partly borrowed from history, and partly mere invention. Greene also joined with Thomas Lodge in writing a species of moral-miracle-play, (partaking of the nature of both) under the title of “A Looking-Glass for London and England,” 1594, derived from sacred history; and to him has also been imputed “George a Greene, the Pinner of Wakefield,” and “The Contention between Liberality and Prodigality,” the one printed in 1599, and the other in 1602. It may be seriously doubted whether he had any hand in the two last, but the productions above-named deserve attention, as works written at an early date for the gratification of popular audiences.

In the passage already referred to from the “Groats-worth of Wit,” 1592, Greene also objects to Shakespeare on the ground that he thought himself “as well able to bombast out a blank-verse” as the best of his contemporaries. The fact is, that in this respect, as in all others, Greene was much inferior to Marlowe, and still less can his lines bear comparison with those of Shakespeare. He doubtless began to write for the stage in rhyme, and his blank-verse preserves nearly all the defects of that early form: it reads heavily

and monotonously, without variety of pause and inflection, and almost the only difference between it and rhyme is the absence of corresponding sounds at the ends of the lines.

The same defects, and in quite as striking a degree, belong to another of the dramatists who is entitled to be considered a predecessor of Shakespeare, and whose name has been before introduced—Thomas Lodge. Only one play in which he was unassisted has descended to us, and it bears the title of “The Wounds of Civil War, lively set forth in the True Tragedies of Marius and Sylla.” It was not printed until 1594, but the author began to write as early as 1580, and we may safely consider his tragedy anterior to the original works of Shakespeare: it was probably written about 1587 or 1588, as a not very successful experiment in blank-verse, in imitation of that style which Marlowe had at once rendered popular.

As regards the dates when his pieces came from the press, John Lyly is entitled to earlier notice than Greene, Lodge, or even Marlowe; and it is possible, as he was ten years older than Shakespeare, that he was a writer before any of them: it does not seem, however, that his dramas were intended for the public stage, but for court-shows or private entertainments^{6 note}. His “Alexander and Campaspe,” the best of his productions, was represented at Court, and it was twice printed, in 1584, and again in 1591: it is, like most of this author's productions, in prose; but his “Woman in the Moon” (printed in 1597) is in blank-verse, and the “Maid's Metamorphosis,” 1600, (if indeed it be by him) is in rhyme. As none of these dramas, generally composed in a refined, affected, and artificial style, can be said to

have had any material influence upon stage-entertainments before miscellaneous audiences in London, it is unnecessary for our present purpose to say more regarding them.

George Peele was about the same age as Lyly^{7 note}; but his theatrical productions (with the exception of “The Arraignment of Paris,” printed in 1584, and written for the court) are of a different description, having been intended for exhibition at the ordinary theatres. His “Edward the First” he calls a “famous chronicle,” and most of the incidents are derived from history: it is, in fact, one of our earliest plays founded upon English annals. It was printed in 1593 and in 1599, but with so many imperfections, that we cannot accept it as any fair representation of the state in which it came from the author's pen. The most remarkable feature belonging to it is the unworthy manner in which Peele sacrificed the character of the Queen to his desire to gratify the popular antipathy to the Spaniards: the opening of it is spirited, and affords evidence of the author's skill as a writer of blank-verse. His “Battle of Alcazar” may also be termed a historical drama, in which he allowed himself the most extravagant licence as to time, incidents, and characters. It perhaps preceded his “Edward the First” in point of date, (though not printed until 1594) and the principal event it refers to occurred in 1578. “Sir Clyomon and Clamydes” is merely a romance, in

the old form of a rhyming play^{8 note}; and “David and Bethsabe,” a scriptural drama, and a great improvement upon older pieces of the same description: Peele here confined himself strictly to the incidents in Holy Writ, and it certainly contains the best specimens of his blank-verse composition. His “Old Wives' Tale,” in the shape in which it has reached us, seems hardly deserving of criticism, and it would have received little notice but for some remote, and perhaps accidental, resemblance between its story and that of Milton's “Comus^{9 note}.”

The “Jeronimo” of Thomas Kyd is to be looked upon as a species of transition play: the date of its composition, on the testimony of Ben Jonson, may be stated to be prior to 1588^{1 note}, just after Marlowe had produced his “Tamburlaine,” and when Kyd hesitated to follow his bold step to the full extent of his progress. “Jeronimo” is therefore partly in blank-verse, and partly in rhyme: the same observation will apply, though not in the same degree, to Kyd's “Spanish Tragedy:” it is in truth a second part of “Jeronimo,” the story being continued from one play to the other, and managed with considerable dexterity. The interest in the latter is great, and generally well sustained, and some of the characters are drawn with no little art and force.

The success of “Jeronimo,” doubtless, induced Kyd to write the second part of it immediately; and we need not hesitate in concluding that “The Spanish Tragedy” had been acted before 1590.

Besides Marlowe, Greene, Lodge, Lyly, Peele, and Kyd, there were other dramatists, who may be looked upon as the immediate predecessors of Shakespeare, but few of whose printed works are of an earlier date, as regards composition, than some of those which came from the pen of our great poet. Among these, Thomas Nash was the most distinguished, whose contribution to “Dido,” in conjunction with Marlowe, has been before noticed: the portions which came from the pen of Marlowe are, we think, easily to be distinguished from those written by Nash, whose genius does not seem to have been of an imaginative or dramatic, but of a satirical and objurgatory character. He produced alone a piece called “Summer's Last Will and Testament,” which was written in the autumn of 1592, but not printed until 1600: it bears internal evidence that it was exhibited as a private show, and it could never have been meant for public performance^{2 note}. Henry Chettle, who was also senior to Shakespeare, has left behind him a tragedy called “Hoffman,” which was not printed until 1630; and he was engaged with Anthony Munday in producing “The Death of Robert Earl of Huntington,” printed in 1601. From Henslowe's Diary we learn that both these pieces were written subsequent to the date when Shakespeare had acquired a high reputation. Munday had been a dramatist

as early as 1584, when a rhyming translation by him, under the title of “The Two Italian Gentlemen,” came from the press^{3 note}; and in the interval between that year and 1602, he wrote the whole or parts of various plays which have been lost^{4 note}. Robert Wilson ought not to be omitted: he seems to have been a prolific dramatist, but only one comedy by him has survived, under the title of “The Cobbler's Prophecy,” and it was printed in 1594. According to the evidence of Henslowe, he aided Drayton and Munday in writing “The First Part of the Life of Sir John Oldcastle,” printed in 1600; but he must at that date have been old, if he were the same Robert Wilson who was one of Lord Leicester's theatrical servants in 1574, and who became one of the leaders of the company called the Queen's Players in 1583. He seems to have been a low comedian, and his “Cobbler's Prophecy” is a piece, the drollery of which must have depended in a great degree upon the performers.

With regard to mechanical facilities for the representation of plays before, and indeed long after, the time of Shakespeare, it may be sufficient to state, that our old public theatres were merely round wooden buildings, open to the sky in the audience part of the house, although the stage was covered by a hanging roof: the spectators stood on the ground in front or at the sides, or were accommodated in boxes round the inner circumference of the edifice, or in galleries at a greater elevation. Our ancient stage was unfurnished with moveable scenery; and tables, chairs, a few boards for a battlemented wall, or a rude structure for a tomb or an altar, seem to have been nearly all the properties

it possessed. It was usually hung round with decayed tapestry; and as there was no other mode of conveying the necessary information, the author often provided that the player, on his entrance, should take occasion to mention the place of action. When the business of a piece required that the stage should represent two apartments, the effect was accomplished by a curtain, called a traverse, drawn across it; and a sort of balcony in the rear enabled the writer to represent his characters at a window, on the platform of a castle, or on an elevated terrace.

To this simplicity, and to these deficiencies, we doubtless owe some of the finest passages in our early plays; for it was part of the business of the dramatist to supply the absence of coloured canvass by grandeur and luxuriance of description. The ear was thus made the substitute for the eye, and the poet's pen, aided by the auditor's imagination, more than supplied the place of the painter's brush. Moveable scenery was unknown in our public theatres until after the Restoration; and, as has been observed elsewhere, “the introduction of it gives the date to the commencement of the decline of our dramatic poetry^{5 note}.”

How far propriety of costume was regarded, we have no sufficient means of deciding; but we apprehend that more attention was paid to it than has been generally supposed, or than was accomplished at a much later and more refined period. It is indisputable, that often in this department no outlay was spared: the most costly dresses were purchased, that characters might be consistently habited; and, as a single proof, we may mention, that sometimes more than 20l. were given for a cloak^{6 note}, an enormous price, when it is recollected that money was then five or six times as valuable as at present.

We have thus briefly stated all that seems absolutely required to give the reader a correct notion of the state of the English drama and stage at the period when, according to the best judgment we can form from such evidence as remains to us, Shakespeare advanced to a forward place among the dramatists of the day. As long ago as 1679, Dryden gave currency to the notion, which we have shown to be mistaken, that Shakespeare “created first the stage,” and he repeated it in 1692^{7 note}

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