Porters and serving men, together throng.”
These lines were published circa 1596, and have never been quoted before in reference to the stage, and I regard them, on my part, in the light of a discovery. When every nook and cranny of Elizabethan literature has been diligently ransacked in quest of materials for illuminating theatrical matters, it is all the more surprising that this passage should have been overlooked. The reason may be that in this poem some of the verses were too highly coloured for respectable literary folk, but in spite of this obstacle I considered it my duty as a student to read the book diligently from page to page in hopes of finding some reference to the early stage, and in this instance I was amply rewarded. This volume of amorous verses was one of the books condemned to be burnt at Canterbury by Archbishop Whitgift in 1599. By a strange coincidence, the original of this volume was banned from the public libraries by order of the Emperor Augustus.
HOBBY HORSE.
For O, for O, the hobby-horse is forgot.
III, 2, 144.
Although only distantly connected with the stage, the mention of this well-known feature in the May games proves that Shakespeare was well versed in all matters connected with the festivities of the village homes. The hobby-horse was one of the principal actors, taking part in the Morris Dance, this dance being considered the chief attraction of the May games. Hobby was originally the name of a small horse chiefly of Irish breed; when figuring in the festivities under this name it was represented by a paste board painted figure of a horse, attached to a frame of wicker wood or other light material, and was fastened round the waist of a man, his own legs, going through the body of the horse, were concealed by a long foot-cloth, thus enabling him to walk unseen, while false legs appeared where those of the man should have been, at the sides of the horse. Thus equipped, he executed various antics in imitation of a skittish high-spirited animal. The name of the performer was also called the hobby-horse. The phrase is now obsolete, but the word hobby is now associated with the occupation of collecting various works of art or trivial things, which is compared to the riding of a toy horse. The present quotation may be a line now lost from an old ballad, in which the omission of the hobby-horse from the May games was the principal theme. The figure of a man riding a hobby-horse is depicted on a glass window at Betley Church, Staffordshire. This identical sentence is often mentioned in Elizabethan literature, which would indicate that at this period it had ceased to form a part of the rustic games. As an instance showing the disfavour into which the hobby-horse had fallen, Hope-on-high Bomby, a character in “A Woman Pleased,” by Beaumont and Fletcher, throws off his hobby-horse and will no more engage in the Morris Dance. Last summer I witnessed some very interesting Morris Dances performed on the Green in the Hampstead Garden Suburb, but was disappointed in not seeing the hobby-horse. “For O, For O, the hobby-horse is forgot,” I exclaimed in a loud voice, but no one heeded me, and the dances continued.
JIG.
Prithee, say on, he’s for a jig or a tale of bawdry, or else he sleeps.
II, 2, 522.
This is the only instance in which Shakespeare uses the word in its connexion with the dramatic history of the stage. In this sense the word is now obsolete. Until quite lately, no specimen of this form of dramatic literature was extant, yet the early commentators were fully aware of its existence. Very little trustworthy evidence for this class of literary diversion is procurable, but several early references clearly indicate that such fare was usually provided at the public theatres. The jig was a dramatic sketch or ballad drama, of a light or farcical character, written to dance music and accompanied in most instances to dance action. The piece that has survived is without this lasting accessory. The actors in these sketches were chosen from those that played the clowns and comic characters in the regular drama. An idea of the nature of these one-act plays may be imagined by comparing them to the rollicking farces which generally concluded the programme in our theatres in Victorian times. The only extant jig, which has recently been discovered, has been printed in the collection of Shirburn ballads, and edited with much profound learning by Mr. Andrew Clark. The playlet is entitled: