The amusements of the early portion of Elizabeth's reign for the most part consisted in her dearly-loved bull and bear-baiting, with occasionally the more refined masques and pageants. These latter, however, were of rare occurrence, and usually called forth by some exciting occasion, such for instance as the visit of a foreign ambassador, the celebration of a victory, or the return of some joyous festival. The votaries of the "deformed thief, Fashion," did not then herd together as now. Factions, jealousies, and fears together with the dangerous intrigues which the great carried on against each other, and which oft-times brought the heads of such contrivers to the block, kept the grandees apart. Added to which, those mediums of varied amusement which assemble the élite with one another in our own day, were not in existence.
At the period in which our story had now arrived, however, an event was about to take place which made some little stir, and drew a large concourse from both Court and city into one focus.
This was neither more nor less than a new play, written as was then said, by "a right pleasant and merry conceited companion," named William Shakespeare. It was to be enacted within the walls of an old monastery called the Blackfriars. The performance was entitled "The Lamentable Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet;" and so great was the interest created, that the Queen, with such of her Court as she chose should attend her on the occasion, had signified an intention of being present.
It will doubtless appear somewhat extraordinary to many of our readers to find such a performance taking place within the walls of a religious edifice. But the civic authorities had so often opposed the representation of regular performance in the city that the actors at last sought a place without their jurisdiction, and finally obtained the deserted building within the precincts of the dissolved monastery of the Blackfriars, and fitted some parts up for a theatre.
In the preceding reigns there had been no public buildings exclusively appropriated to dramatic entertainment. The most common places of performance were the yards of the Chaucer-like hostels, in the various towns through which the actors wandered.
Some of these inns are even yet remaining, although altered and modernized, in the city of London, and also along the Old Kent Road. The gateways of such houses formed one side of the quadrangle, whilst the balconies, being accessible from the various chambers, obviated all necessity of descending amongst the vulgar in the yard.
In such galleries kings and nobles, the fierce Norman of the Crusades, the knight, the esquire, and the damsel of high decree, had leant over the rails in the olden time, and witnessed the miracle-plays and mysteries then exhibiting. Such for instance as the miracle-play of the Creation, wherein Adam and Eve appeared "in puris naturalibus," and were, as the play quaintly says, "NOT ASHAMED." The earliest of theatres were churches; the earliest performers, monks and friars; and for the most part their exhibitions being on religious subjects, such as the descent of our Saviour to liberate our first parents, John the Baptist and the prophets from the lower regions. On the accession of Henry the Eighth, acting had become an ordinary profession, and companies of players were attached to each town; but previous to the reign of the bluff monarch, plays on general subjects were unknown, yet long before that period it had been customary for great noblemen to have companies of players attached to their household.
Such, then, is a short summary of theatrical affairs previous to the period in which Shakespeare startled the town by his productions,—making a single vault from the lowest depth of misrule and barbarity to the highest pinnacle of excellence in dramatic art and composition; and, apparently without any ostensible guide whereby to steer his course, at once striking out a path, so exquisitely conceived, so laden with perfumed flowers, so filled with romance and beauty, that all the world of after-times has bowed down in worshipful adoration. Of after-times, however, it is not our hint to speak. The sight and impression of Shakespeare's own play, in the infancy of his career, himself enacting a part, and speaking his own words, is what we have to look upon. To bring before the reader's eye that "poor player, who strutted his hour upon the stage, and then was heard no more." "Heard no more!"—his own words! How "rounded in the ear," and yet how strange to reflect upon.
We have already said that the expected performance had on this occasion drawn together a considerable audience both from Court and city.
Such was indeed the case, and taking into consideration in what consisted a considerable audience at that period, and when accommodation was at best but scant, the concourse of persons hieing to witness Master Shakespeare's new play was very great.