The Elizabethan Stage, Vol. 3

by E. K. Chambers

These being the conditions, let us consider what number and what kinds of plays got into print. It will be convenient to deal separately with the two periods 1557–85 and 1586–1616. The operations of the Company under their charter had hardly begun before Mary died. The Elizabethan printing of plays opens in 1559 and for the first five years is of a retrospective character. Half a dozen publishers, led by John King, who died about 1561, and Thomas Colwell, who started business in the same year, issued or entered seventeen plays. Of these one is not extant. One is a ‘May-game’, perhaps contemporary. Five are translations; four are Marian farces of the school of Udall, one a débat by John Heywood, and five Protestant interludes of the reigns of Henry and Edward, roughly edited in some cases so as to adapt them to performance under the new queen.[577] One more example of earlier Tudor drama, Ralph Roister Doister, in addition to mere reprints, appeared after 1565.[578] And with that year, after a short lull of activity, begins the genuine Elizabethan harvest, which by 1585 had yielded forty-two plays, of which thirty-nine are extant, although two only in the form of fragments. On analysis, the greater number of these, seventeen in all, fall into a group of moral interludes, often controversial in tone, and in some cases approximating, through the intermingling of concrete with abstract personages, on the one hand to classical comedy, on the other to the mediaeval miracle-play. There are also twelve translations or adaptations, including two from Italian comedy. There is one neo-classical tragedy. And there are nine plays which can best be classified as histories, of which seven have a classical and two a romantic colouring.[579] It is of interest to compare this output of the printing-press with the chronicle of Court performances over the same years which is recorded in the Revels Accounts.[580] Here we get, so far of course as can be judged from a bare enumeration of titles, fourteen morals, twenty-one classical histories, mainly shown by boys, twenty-two romantic histories, mainly shown by men, and perhaps three farces, two plays of contemporary realism, with one ‘antick’ play and two groups of short dramatic episodes. It is clear that the main types are the same in both lists. But only one of the printed plays, Orestes, actually appears in the Court records, although Damon and Pythias, Gorboduc, Sapho and Phao, Campaspe, and The Arraignment of Paris were also given at Court, and the Revels Accounts after all only cover comparatively few years out of the whole period.[581] And there is a great discrepancy in the proportions in which the various types are represented. The morals, which were obsolescent at Court, are far more numerous in print than the classical and romantic histories, which were already in enjoyment of their full vogue upon the boards. My definite impression is that these early printed morals, unlike the prints of later date, were in the main not drawn from the actual repertories of companies, but were literary products, written with a didactic purpose, and printed in the hope that they would be bought both by readers and by schoolmasters in search of suitable pieces for performance by their pupils. They belong, like some similar interludes, both original and translated, of earlier date, rather to the tradition of the humanist academic drama, than to that of the professional, or even quasi-professional, stage. There are many things about the prints which, although not individually decisive, tend when taken in bulk to confirm this theory. They are ‘compiled’, according to their title-pages; sometimes the author is declared a ‘minister’ or a ‘learned clerke’.[582] Nothing is, as a rule, said to indicate that they have been acted.[583] They are advertised, not only as ‘new’, ‘merry’, ‘pretty’, ‘pleasant’, ‘delectable’, ‘witty’, ‘full of mirth and pastime’, but also as ‘excellent’, ‘worthy’, ‘godly’, ‘pithy’, ‘moral’, ‘pityfull’, ‘learned’, and ‘fruitfull’, and occasionally the precise didactic intention is more elaborately expounded either on the title-page or in a prologue.[584] They are furnished with analyses showing the number of actors necessary to take all the parts, and in one case there is a significant note that the arrangement is ‘most convenient for such as be disposed, either to shew this comedie in priuate houses, or otherwise’.[585] They often conclude with a generalized prayer for the Queen and the estates of the realm, which omits any special petition for the individual lord such as we have reason to believe the protected players used.[586] The texts are much better than the later texts based upon acting copies. The stage-directions read like the work of authors rather than of book-keepers, notably in the use of ‘out’ rather than of ‘in’ to indicate exits, and in the occasional insertion both of hints for ‘business’ and of explanatory comments aimed at a reader rather than an actor.[587] It should be added that this type of play begins to disappear at the point when the growing Calvinist spirit led to a sharp breach between the ministry and the stage, and discredited even moral play-writing amongst divines. The latest morals, of which there are some even during the second period of play-publication, have much more the look of rather antiquated survivals from working repertories.[588] The ‘May-game’ of Robin Hood seems to me to be of a literary origin similar to that of the contemporary ‘morals’.

Towards the end of the period a new element is introduced with Lyly and Peele, who, like Edwardes before them, were not divines but secular scholars, and presumably desired a permanent life for their literary achievements. The publication of Lyly’s plays for Paul’s carries us on into the period 1586–1616, and the vaunting of their performance before the Queen is soon followed by that of other plays, beginning with The Troublesome Reign of John, as publicly acted in the City of London. During 1586–1616 two hundred and thirty-seven plays in all were published or at least entered on the Stationers’ Register, in addition to thirteen printed elsewhere than in London. Of many of these, and of some of those earlier published, there were one or more reprints. It is not until the last year of the period that the first example of a collective edition of the plays of any author makes its appearance. This is The Workes of Benjamin Jonson, which is moreover in folio, whereas the prints of individual plays were almost invariably in quarto.[589] A second volume of Jonson’s Works was begun in 1631 and completed in 1640. Shakespeare’s plays had to wait until 1623 for collective treatment, Lyly’s until 1632, Marston’s until 1633, and Beaumont and Fletcher’s until 1647 and 1679, although a partial collection of Shakespearian plays in quarto has been shown to have been contemplated and abandoned in 1619.[590] Of the two hundred and thirty-seven plays proposed for publication two hundred and fourteen are extant. Twenty-three are only known by entries in the Stationers’ Register, and as plays were not always entered, it is conceivable that one or two may have been published, and have passed into oblivion. Of the two hundred and fourteen extant plays, six are translations from the Latin, Italian, or French, and seven may reasonably be suspected of being merely closet plays, intended for the eye of the reader alone. The other two hundred and one may be taken to have undergone the test of actual performance. Six were given by amateurs, at Court or elsewhere, and eleven, of which three are Latin and eight English, are University plays. So far as the professional companies are concerned, the repertories which have probably been best preserved, owing to the fact that the poets were in a position to influence publication, are those of the boys. We have thirty-one plays which, certainly or probably, came to the press from the Chapel and Queen’s Revels boys, twenty-five from the Paul’s boys, and eight from the King’s Revels boys. To the Queen’s men we may assign eleven plays, to Sussex’s three, to Pembroke’s five, to Derby’s four, to Oxford’s one, to Strange’s or the Admiral’s and Henry’s thirty-two, to the Chamberlain’s and King’s thirty-four, to Worcester’s and Anne’s sixteen, to Charles’s one. Some of these had at earlier dates been played by other companies. Fifteen plays remain, not a very large proportion, which cannot be safely assigned.[591] There are twenty-seven manuscript English plays or fragments of plays or plots of plays, and twenty-one Latin ones, mostly of a university type, which also belong to the period 1586–1616. There are fifty-one plays which were certainly or probably produced before 1616, but were not printed until later, many of them in the Shakespeare and Beaumont and Fletcher folios. And there are some twenty-two others, which exist in late prints, but may be wholly, or more often partially, of early workmanship. The resultant total of three hundred and seven is considerable, but there is reason to suppose that it only represents a comparatively small fraction of the complete crop of these thirty pullulating dramatic years. Of over two hundred and eighty plays recorded by Henslowe as produced or commissioned by the companies for whom he acted as banker between 1592 and 1603, we have only some forty and perhaps revised versions of a few others.[592] Thomas Heywood claimed in 1633 to have had ‘an entire hand, or at least a maine finger’, in not less than two hundred and twenty plays, and of these we can only identify or even guess at about two score, of which several are certainly lost. That any substantial number of plays got printed, but have failed to reach us, is improbable. From time to time an unknown print, generally of early date, turns up in some bibliographical backwater, but of the seventy-five titles which I have brought together under the head of ‘Lost Plays’ some probably rest upon misunderstandings and others represent works which were not plays at all, while a large proportion are derived from late entries in the Stationers’ Register by Humphrey Moseley of plays which he may have possessed in manuscript but never actually proceeded to publish.[593] Some of the earlier unfulfilled entries may be of similar type. An interesting piece of evidence pointing to the practically complete survival at any rate of seventeenth-century prints is afforded in a catalogue of his library of plays made by Sir John Harington in or about 1610.[594] Harington possessed 129 distinct plays, as well as a number of duplicates. Only 9 of these were printed before 1586. He had 14 out of 38 printed during 1588–94, and 15 out of 25 printed during 1595–99. His absence in Ireland during 1599 probably led him to miss several belonging to that year, and his most vigorous period as a collector began with 1600. During 1600–10 he secured 90 out of 105; that is to say exactly six-sevenths of the complete output of the London press. I neglect plays printed outside London in these figures. There is only one play among the 129 which is not known to us. Apparently it bore the title Belinus and Brennus.

It is generally supposed, and I think with justice, that the acting companies did not find it altogether to their advantage to have their plays printed. Heywood, indeed, in the epistle to his English Traveller (1633) tells us that this was sometimes the case.[595] Presumably the danger was not so much that readers would not become spectators, as that other companies might buy the plays and act them; and of this practice there are some dubious instances, although at any rate by Caroline times it had been brought under control by the Lord Chamberlain.[596] At any rate, we find the Admiral’s in 1600 borrowing 40s. ‘to geue vnto the printer, to staye the printing of Patient Gresell’.[597] We find the King’s Revels syndicate in 1608 entering into a formal agreement debarring its members from putting any of the play-books jointly owned by them into print. And we find the editor and publisher of Troilus and Cressida, although that had in fact never been played, bidding his readers in 1609 ‘thanke fortune for the scape it hath made amongst you; since by the grand possessors wills I beleeue you should have prayd for them rather than beene prayd’. The marked fluctuation in the output of plays in different years is capable of explanation on the theory that, so long as the companies were prosperous, they kept a tight hold on their ‘books’, and only let them pass into the hands of the publishers when adversity broke them up, or when they had some special need to raise funds. The periods of maximum output are 1594, 1600, and 1607. In 1594 the companies were reforming themselves after a long and disastrous spell of plague; and in particular the Queen’s, Pembroke’s, and Sussex’s men were all ruined, and their books were thrown in bulk upon the market.[598] It has been suggested that the sales of 1600 may have been due to Privy Council restrictions of that year, which limited the number of companies, and forbade them to play for more than two days in the week.[599] But it is very doubtful whether the limitation of days really became operative, and many of the plays published belonged to the two companies, the Chamberlain’s and the Admiral’s, who stood to gain by the elimination of competitors. An alternative reason might be found in the call for ready money involved by the building of the Globe in 1599 and the Fortune in 1600. The main factor in 1607 was the closing of Paul’s and the sale of the plays acted there.

Sometimes the companies were outwitted. Needy and unscrupulous stationers might use illegitimate means to acquire texts for which they had not paid as a basis for ‘surreptitious’ or ‘piratical’ prints.[600] A hired actor might be bribed to disclose his ‘part’ and so much as he could remember of the ‘parts’ of others. Dr. Greg has made it seem probable that the player of the Host was an agent in furnishing the text of the Merry Wives.[601] A player of Voltimand and other minor parts may have been similarly guilty as regards Hamlet.[602] Long before, the printer of Gorboduc had succeeded in ‘getting a copie thereof at some yongmans hand that lacked a little money and much discretion’. Or the poet himself might be to blame. Thomas Heywood takes credit in the epistle to The Rape of Lucrece that it had not been his custom ‘to commit my playes to the presse’, like others who ‘have vsed a double sale of their labours, first to the stage, and after to the presse’. Yet this had not saved his plays from piracy, for some of them had been ‘copied only by the eare’ and issued in a corrupt and mangled form. A quarter of a century later, in writing a prologue for a revival of his If You Know not Me, You Know Nobody, he tells us that this was one of the corrupt issues, and adds that

Some by Stenography drew

The plot: put it in print: (scarce one word trew).

Modern critics have sought in shorthand the source of other ‘bad’ and probably surreptitious texts of plays, and one has gone so far as to trace in them the peculiarities of a particular system expounded in the Characterie (1588) of Timothy Bright.[603] The whole question of surreptitious prints has naturally been explored most closely in connexion with the textual criticism of Shakespeare, and the latest investigator, Mr. Pollard, has come to the conclusion that, in spite of the general condemnation of the Folio editors, the only Shakespearian Quartos which can reasonably be labelled as surreptitious or as textually ‘bad’ are the First Quartos of Romeo and Juliet, Henry V, Merry Wives of Windsor, Hamlet, and Pericles, although he strongly suspects that there once existed a similar edition of Love’s Labour’s Lost.[604] I have no ground for dissenting from this judgement.

The question whether the actors, in protecting their property from the pirates, could look for any assistance from the official controllers of the press is one of some difficulty. We may perhaps infer, with the help of the conditional entries of The Blind Beggar of Alexandria and The Spanish Tragedy, and the special order made in the case of Dr. Faustus, that before assigning a ‘copy’ to one stationer the wardens of the Company took some steps to ascertain whether any other stationer laid a claim to it. It does not follow that they also inquired whether the applicant had come honestly or dishonestly by his manuscript.[605] Mr. Pollard seems inclined to think that, although they were under no formal obligation to intervene, they would not be likely, as men of common sense, to encourage dishonesty.[606] If this argument stood alone, I should not have much confidence in it. There is a Publishers’ Association to-day, doubtless composed of men of common sense, but it is not a body to which one would naturally commit interests which might come into conflict with those of members of the trade. It would be another matter, however, if the actors were in a position to bring outside interest to bear against the pirates, through the licensers, or through the Privy Council on whom ultimately the licensers depended. And this in fact seems to have been the way in which a solution of the problem was gradually arrived at. Apart altogether from plays, there are instances upon record in which individuals, who were in a position to command influence, successfully adopted a similar method. We find Fulke Greville in 1586 writing to Sir Francis Walsingham, on the information of the stationer Ponsonby, to warn him that the publication of the Arcadia was being planned, and to advise him to get ‘made stay of that mercenary book’ by means of an application to the Archbishop or to Dr. Cosin, ‘who have, as he says, a copy to peruse to that end’.[607] Similarly we find Francis Bacon, in the preface to his Essayes of 1597, excusing himself for the publication on the ground that surreptitious adventurers were at work, and ‘to labour the staie of them had bin troublesome and subiect to interpretation’. Evidently he had come to a compromise, of which the Stationers’ Register retains traces in the cancellation by a court of an entry of the Essayes to Richard Serger, and a re-entry to H. Hooper, the actual publisher, ‘under the handes of Master Francis Bacon, Master Doctor Stanhope, Master Barlowe, and Master Warden Lawson’.[608] The actors, too, were not wholly without influence. They had their patrons and protectors, the Lord Chamberlain and the Lord Admiral, in the Privy Council, and although, as Mr. Pollard points out, it certainly would not have been good business to worry an important minister about every single forty-shilling piracy, it may have been worth while to seek a standing protection, analogous to the old-fashioned ‘privilege’, against a series of such annoyances. At any rate, this is what, while the Admiral’s contented themselves with buying off the printer of Patient Grissell, the Chamberlain’s apparently attempted, although at first with indifferent success, to secure. In 1597 John Danter, a stationer of the worst reputation, had printed a surreptitious and ‘bad’ edition of Romeo and Juliet, and possibly, if Mr. Pollard’s conjecture is right, another of Love’s Labour’s Lost. He had made no entry in the Register, and it was therefore open to another publisher, Cuthbert Burby, to issue, without breach of copyright, ‘corrected’ editions of the same plays.[609] This he did, with suitable trumpetings of the corrections on the title-pages, and presumably by arrangement with the Chamberlain’s men. It was this affair which must, I think, have led the company to apply for protection to their lord. On 22 July 1598 an entry was made in the Stationers’ Register of The Merchant of Venice for the printer James Roberts. This entry is conditional in form, but it differs from the normal conditional entries in that the requirement specified is not an indefinite ‘aucthoritie’ but a ‘lycence from the Right honorable the lord chamberlen’. Roberts also entered Cloth Breeches and Velvet Hose on 27 May 1600, A Larum for London on 29 May 1600, and Troilus and Cressida on 7 February 1603. These also are all conditional entries but of a normal type. No condition, however, is attached to his entry of Hamlet on 26 July 1602. Now comes a significant piece of evidence, which at least shows that in 1600, as well as in 1598, the Stationers’ Company were paying particular attention to entries of plays coming from the repertory of the Chamberlain’s men. The register contains, besides the formal entries, certain spare pages upon which the clerk was accustomed to make occasional memoranda, and amongst these memoranda we find the following:[610]

My lord chamberlens menns plaies Entred
viz
A moral of ‘clothe breches and velvet hose’

27 May 1600
To Master
Robertes