[CHAPTER XIX.]
THE ELIZABETHAN STAGE AND PLAYWRIGHTS.
The rejoicing age of Elizabeth was fond of "variety entertainments". The Court Masques, such as those of Lyly, and George Peele's "Arraignment of Paris," abounded in songs, music, and dancing, and were expensively furnished. The Universities had their own amateur authors and performers. The "children" of St. Paul's and other schools acted so naturally that, as we read in "Hamlet," they became serious rivals of the professional actors.[1] "An aery of children, little eyases, that cry out on the top of question, and are most tyrannically clapped for it, these are now the fashion". Polonius indicates the many sorts of plays, "tragedy, comedy, pastoral, pastoral-comical, historical-pastoral, tragical-historical, tragical-comical, historical-pastoral, scene individual, or poem unlimited. Seneca cannot be too heavy or Plautus too light." From authors of the heavy Senecan school came blank verse: "the light people" continued, when Shakespeare wrote "Love's Labour's Lost," to employ rhymes in many measures; till Peele, and above all Marlowe, introduced a more free and varied and accomplished blank verse. The general taste turned from many imitations of the ponderous Seneca to plays of more freedom, but even moralities and interludes of the old sort continued to be played in the age of the Shakespearean drama.
There were countless troops of players, vagabonds in the eyes of the law—those who held no licence from a noble (as "the Earl of Leicester's men," "the Admiral's men," and many others), "hardly scaped whipping". In "Ratsei's Ghoaste" a company of strollers, Bottoms and Snugs, stage-stricken, are licensed by a highwayman. They acted where they could, mere "barnstormers," mainly in the yards of inns, under the galleries.
The City was puritanic, or, at all events, was adverse to the nuisance caused by crowds of roisterers and hangers-on of the theatre, and by 1577 James Burbage built his theatre beyond the municipal bounds, in Shoreditch. The Curtain and the Fortune were in the same region. Southwark, south of the river, a noisy quarter, gave hospitality to the Rose, and, in 1599, to the Globe, built by Burbage's son, the famous Richard, Shakespeare's friend.
The Diary of Philip Henslowe, who financed players and authors, among his other enterprises, contains the jottings of this avaricious and uneducated patron. There were many small "private theatres," which had a scrambling existence.
The pit was unseated, and open to the rain and sun, the galleries above were less uncomfortable. The noble and wealthy sat in galleries round the pit, or on the stage, which was covered over or partly covered from the air. The arras, or tapestry hangings, concealed the prompter—and Polonius in "Hamlet". Scenes in bedrooms were at the back, and when such a scene closed, the hangings fell over it. There was no scene-shifting, as with us, pasteboard rocks and trees were easily moved about. A painted frame with a name over it in large letters, stood for town-gate, and for the town.[2]
There were no women actors, boys took women's parts till the Restoration.
Such clowns, dancers, singers, and practical jokers as Tarleton and Kemp, and such actors as held shares in their theatres, made good livelihoods. The authors, who sold them dramas for a sum down, and had no more profit from them in any way, were paid sums ranging from £6 to £20: according to modern rate of purchasing power from £50 to £160. The play then became the property of the speculator, like Henslowe, or manager, or company of authors, which had paid for it. Robert Greene, the celebrated literary man of whom we have to speak presently, was accused of selling a copy of a play to one company, and then, when that company went "on tour" through provincial towns, of selling another copy to another company. "He was very capable of having it happen to him." When any speculator or company had once bought a play, they could hand it over to any author with orders to alter it as he pleased. This was annoying to the first author or authors, for sometimes two men, sometimes three, sometimes five or six would combine to make a play. The consequence is that modern critics spend much time and ink in trying to discover which author wrote each part of a comedy or tragedy, and how much of the original work of the first author, or authors, was kept in a play which, perhaps, Shakespeare himself took up and re-wrote.
We have no space for such discussions, which seldom lead to any certain conclusions, but we must remember that the actors much objected to the printing of any plays which they owned, for, once printed, it was not easy to prevent other companies from acting them. But publishers sent shorthand reporters to take down the words during the performance, and wild work they often made of it. These printed plays, small cheap square volumes or "quartoes," may be very correct or very incorrect copies of the author's words; some of Shakespeare's quartos are good texts, some are execrable.