1 at hand, Greene wrote a tract, called A Groat's drunkenness, fly lust, abhor those epicures, whose loose Worth of Wit, bought with a Million of Repentance, life hath made religion loathsome to your ears; and when in which he deplores his fate more feelingly than they soothe you with terms of mastership, remember Nash, and also gives ghostly advice to his acquaint- Robert Greene-whom they have often flattered-perishes ances that spend their wit in making plays. The for want of comfort. Remember, gentlemen, your lives first he styles thou famous gracer of tragedians,' are like so many light-tapers that are with care delivered and he accuses him of atheism: why should thy to all of you to maintain; these, with wind-puffed wrath, excellent wit, His gift, be so blinded, that thou may be extinguished, with drunkenness put out, with shouldst give no glory to the giver?' The allusion negligence let fall. The fire of my light is now at the here is clearly to Marlowe, whom all his contem- last snuff. My hand is tired, and I forced to leave where poraries charge with atheism. The second dramatist I would begin; desirous that you should live, though is addressed as 'Young Juvenal, that biting satirist himself be dying.-ROBERT GREENE.' that lastly with me together writ a comedy: sweet His death was wretched in the extreme. Having, at boy, might I advise thee, be advised, and get not a supper where Nash was a guest, indulged to excess many enemies by bitter words; inveigh against in pickled herrings and Rhenish wine, he contracted vain men, for thou canst do it-no man better, no a mortal illness, under which he continued for a man so well.' Lodge is supposed to be the party month, supported by a poor charitable cordwainer; here addressed; but as he was some years older and he was buried the day after his death in the New then Greene himself, the latter was not likely to Churchyard near Bedlam, the cost of his funeral apostrophise him as 'sweet boy.' Nash was prob- being 6s. 4d. Harvey says Greene's corpse was ably meant, for he was several years younger decked by the cordwainer's wife with a garland than either, and no other contemporary of Greene's of bays, pursuant to his last request!' could inveigh' so well against vain men, or any other class of men. Finally, Greene counsels another dramatist, no less deserving than the other two,' and who was like himself driven to extreme shifts,' not to depend on so mean a stay as the stage. Peele is evidently this third party. Greene then glances at Shakspeare: For there is an upstart crow beautified with our feathers, that, with his tiger's heart wrapt in a player's hide, supposes he is as well able to bombast out a blank verse as the best of you; and being an absolute Johannes Fac-totum, is, in his own conceit, the only Shake-scene in a country.' The punning allusion to Shakspeare is palpable: the expressions, tiger's heart,' &c., are a parody on the line in Henry VI., part third O tiger's heart wrapt in a woman's hide. The Winter's Tale is believed to be one of Shakspeare's late dramas, not written till long after Greene's death; consequently, if this be correct, the unhappy man could not allude to the plagiarism of the plot from his tale of Pandosto. Some forgotten play of Greene and his friend may have been alluded to; perhaps the old dramas on which Shakspeare constructed his Henry VI., for in one of these the line O tiger's heart, &c., also occurs. These old plays, however, seem above the pitch of Greene in tragedy. Shakspeare was certainly indebted to Marlowe, one of the dramatists thus addressed by Greene. The Groat's Worth of Wit was published after Greene's death by a brother-dramatist, Henry Chettle, who, in the preface to a subsequent work, apologised indirectly for the allusion to Shakspeare. 'I am as sorry,' he says, 'as if the original fault had been my fault, because myself have seen his demeanour no less civil than he excellent in the quality he professes. Besides, divers of worship have reported his uprightness of dealing, which argues his honesty, and his facetious grace in writing, that approves his art.' This is a valuable statement: full justice is done to Shakspeare's moral worth and civil deportment, and to his respectability as an actor and author. Chettle's apology or explanation was made in 1593. The conclusion of Greene's Groat's Worth of Wit contains more pathos than all his plays: it is a harrowing picture of genius debased by vice, and sorrowing in repentance: 'But now return I again to you three [Marlowe, Nash, and Peele], knowing my misery is to you no news: and let me heartily intreat you to be warned by my harms. Delight not, as I have done, in irreligious oaths, despise Content-A Sonnet. Sweet are the thoughts that savour of content: A mind content both crown and kingdom is. [Sephestia's Song to her Child, After escaping from Shipwreck.] Fortune changed made him so; Last his sorrow, first his joy. Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee; The wanton smiled, father wept, Weep not, my wanton, smile upon my knee; The Shepherd and his Wife. It was near a thicky shade, That broad leaves of beech had made, He And, for you might her housewife know, That breast and bosom in did wrap, To shroud him from the wet aloft: ween, With drops of blood, to make the white In ambush for some wanton prize; Nor was Phillis, that fair May, She wore a chaplet on her head; [Philador, seeing this couple sitting thus lovingly, noted the concord of country amity, and began to conjecture with himself, what a sweet kind of life those men use, who were by their birth too low for dignity, and by their fortunes too simple for envy: well, he thought to fall in prattle with them, had not the shepherd taken his pipe in hand, and began to play, and his wife to sing out, this roundelay :] Ah! what is love! It is a pretty thing, And sweeter too: For kings bethink them what the state require, If country loves such sweet desires gain, For kings have often fears when they sup, If country loves such sweet desires gain, Upon his couch of straw he sleeps as sound For cares cause kings full oft their sleep to spill, If country loves such sweet desires gain, For kings have wars and broils to take in hand, If country loves such sweet desires gain, THOMAS LODGE. THOMAS LODGE is usually classed among the precursors of Shakspeare; he was a poor dramatist. He wrote one tragedy, The Wounds of Civil War, lively set forth in the True Tragedies of Marius and Sylla, 1594. This is in blank verse, but without modulation, and the play is heavy and uninteresting. The mystery-play,' A Looking-glass for London and England, written by Lodge and Greene, is directed to the defence of the stage. It applies the scriptural story of Nineveh to the city of London, and amidst drunken buffoonery and clownish mirth, contains some powerful satirical writing. CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE. The greatest of Shakspeare's precursors in the drama was CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE-a fiery imaginative spirit, who first imparted consistent character and energy to the stage, in connection with a highsounding and varied blank verse. Marlowe was born at Canterbury, and baptised on the 26th of February 1563-4. He was the son of a shoemaker, but through the aid of some local patron-supposed to be Sir Roger Manwood, chief baron of the Exchequer, on whom he wrote a Latin epitaph-he was admitted into the King's School of Canterbury, founded for the education of fifty scholars, who received each a stipend of £4 per annum, and retain their scholarships for five years. From this institution, Marlowe was enabled to proceed, in 1581, to Bennet College, Cambridge, where he took the degree of B.A. in 1583, and that of M.A. in 1587. Previous to this, he is supposed to have written his tragedy of Tamburlaine the Great, which was successfully brought out on the stage, and long continued a favourite. Shakspeare makes ancient Pistol quote, in ridicule, part of this play Holla, ye pampered jades of Asia, &c. 1 Syth or sithe, SAX. time. quiver to remember that I have been a student here Faust. On God, whom Faustus hath abjured? on God, whom Faustus hath blasphemed? Oh, my God, I would weep, but the devil draws in my tears. Gush forth blood instead of tears, yea, life and soul. Oh, he stays my tongue: I would lift up my hands, but see, they hold 'em, they hold 'em! Scholars. Who, Faustus? Faust. Why, Lucifer and Mephistophilis. gentlemen, I gave them my soul for my cunning. Scholars. Oh, God forbid. Ob, But, amidst the rant and fustian of Tamburlaine, there are passages of great beauty and wild grandeur, and the versification justifies the compliment afterwards paid by Ben Jonson, in the words, 'Marlowe's mighty line.' His lofty blank verse is one of his most characteristic features. Marlowe now commenced the profession of an actor; but if we are to credit a contemporary ballad, he was soon incapacitated for the stage by breaking his leg in one lewd scene.' His second play, the Life and Death of Dr Faustus, exhibits a far wider range of dramatic power than his first tragedy. The hero studies necromancy, and makes a solemn disposal of his soul to Lucifer, on condition of having a familiar spirit at his command, and unlimited enjoyment for twenty-four years; during which period Faustus visits different countries, 'calls up spirits from the vasty deep,' and revels in luxury and splendour. At length the time expires, the bond becomes due, and a party of evil spirits enter, amidst thunder and lightning, to claim his forfeited life and person.it: for the vain pleasure of four-and-twenty years hath Faust. God forbid it indeed, but Faustus hath done Such a plot afforded scope for deep passion and Faustus lost eternal joy and felicity. I writ them a variety of adventure, and Marlowe has constructed bill with mine own blood; the date is expired: this is from it a powerful though irregular play. Scenes the time, and he will fetch me. and passages of terrific grandeur and the most thrilling agony, are intermixed with low humour and preternatural machinery, often ludicrous and grotesque. The ambition of Faustus is a sensual, not a lofty ambition. A feeling of curiosity and wonder is excited by his necromancy and his strange compact with Lucifer; but we do not fairly sympathise with him till all his disguises are stripped off, and his meretricious splendour is succeeded by horror and despair. Then, when he stands on the brink of everlasting ruin, waiting for the fatal moment, imploring, yet distrusting repentance, a scene of enchaining interest, fervid passion, and overwhelming pathos, carries captive the sternest heart, and proclaims the full triumph of the tragic poet. First Sch. Why did not Faustus tell us of this before, that divines might have prayed for thee? Faust. Oft have I thought to have done so; but the devil threatened to tear me in pieces if I named God; to fetch me body and soul if I once gave ear to divinity; and now it is too late. Gentlemen, away, lest you perish with me. Sec. Sch. Oh, what may we do to save Faustus? Faust. Talk not of me, but save yourselves, and depart. Third Sch. God will strengthen me; I will stay with Faustus. First Sch. Tempt not God, sweet friend, but let us into the next room and pray for him. Faust. Ay, pray for me, pray for me; and what noise soever you hear, come not unto me, for nothing can rescue me. Sec. Sch. Pray thou, and we will pray, that God may have mercy upon thee. Faust. Gentlemen, farewell; if I live till morning, FAUSTUS alone.-The Clock strikes Eleven. Now hast thou but one bare hour to live, First Scholar. Now, worthy Faustus, methinks your Fair Nature's eye, rise, rise again, and make looks are changed. Faust. Oh, gentlemen. Second Scholar. What ails Faustus? Faust. Ah, my sweet chamber-fellow, had I lived with thee, then had I lived still, but now must die eternally. Look, sirs, comes he not? comes he not? Perpetual day! or let this hour be but A year, a month, a week, a natural day, The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike, First Sch. Oh, my dear Faustus, what imports this Oh, I will leap to heaven: who pulls me down? fear? Sec. Sch. Is all our pleasure turned to melancholy? Third Scholar. He is not well with being over solitary. Sec. Sch. If it be so, we will have physicians, and Faustus shall be cured. First Sch. 'Tis but a surfeit, sir; fear nothing. Faust. A surfeit of a deadly sin, that hath damn'd both body and soul. Sec. Sch. Yet, Faustus, look up to heaven, and remember mercy is infinite. Faust. But Faustus's offence can ne'er be pardoned. The serpent that tempted Eve may be saved, but not Faustus. Oh, gentlemen, hear me with patience, and tremble not at my speeches. Though my heart pant and See where Christ's blood streams in the firmament: And see a threat'ning arm and angry brow. That when you vomit forth into the air, My limbs may issue from your smoky mouths, But let my soul mount and ascend to heaven. The Watch strikes. Oh, half the hour is past: 'twill all be past anon. A hundred thousand, and at the last be saved: Why wert thou not a creature wanting soul? All beasts are happy, for when they die, The Clock strikes Twelve. It strikes, it strikes; now, body, turn to air, Thunder, and enter the Devils. Oh mercy, heaven, look not so fierce on me. Enter Scholars. First Sch. Come, gentlemen, let us go visit Faustus, For such a dreadful night was never seen Since first the world's creation did begin; Such fearful shrieks and cries were never heard. Pray heaven the Doctor have escaped the danger. Sec. Sch. O help us heavens! see, here are Faustus' limbs All torn asunder by the hand of death. Third Sch. The devil whom Faustus served hath torn him thus: For 'twixt the hours of twelve and one, methought I heard him shriek and call aloud for help; At which same time the house seemed all on fire Sec. Sch. Well, gentlemen, though Faustus' end be such As every Christian heart laments to think on; Yet, for he was a scholar once admired For wondrous knowledge in our German schools, And all the scholars, clothed in mourning black, Chorus. Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight, And burned is Apollo's laurel bough That sometime grew within this learned man: The classical taste of Marlowe is evinced in the fine apostrophe to Helen of Greece, whom the spirit Mephistophilis conjures up 'between two Cupids,' to gratify the sensual gaze of Faustus: Was this the face that launched a thousand ships Her lips suck forth my soul-see where it flies. O thou art fairer than the evening air, And none but thou shall be my paramour. Before 1593, Marlowe produced three other dramas-the Jew of Malta, the Massacre at Paris, and a historical play, Edward II. The more malignant passions of the human breast have rarely been represented with such force as they are in the Jew. [Passages from the Jew of Malta.] [In one of the early scenes, Barabas the Jew is deprived of his wealth by the governor of Malta. While being comforted in his distress by two Jewish friends, he thus denounces his oppressors :] The plagues of Egypt, and the curse of heaven, I ban their souls to everlasting pains [So deeply have his misfortunes imbittered his life, that he would have it appear he is tired of it :] And henceforth wish for an eternal night, [But when his comforters are gone, he throws off the mask of sorrow to shew his real feelings, which suggest to him schemes of the subtlest vengeance. With the fulfilment of these, the rest of the play is occupied, and when, having taken terrible vengeance on his enemies, he is overmatched himself, he thus confesses his crimes, and closes his career :] Then Barabas, breathe forth thy latest fate, Know, governor, 'tis I that slew thy son; I framed the challenge that did make them meet. I would have brought confusion on you all, Edward II. is greatly superior to the two plays mentioned in connection with it: it is a noble drama, with ably-drawn characters and splendid scenes. Another tragedy, Lust's Dominion, was published long after Marlowe's death, with his name as author on the title-page. Mr Collier has shewn that this play, as it was then printed, was a much later production, and was probably written by Dekker and others. It contains passages and characters, however, characteristic of Marlowe's style, and he may have written the original outline. The old play of Taming of a Shrew, printed in 1594, contains numerous lines to be found also in Marlowe's acknowledged works, and hence it has been conjectured that he was its author. Great uncertainty hangs over many of the old dramas, from the common practice of managers of theatres employing different authors, at subsequent periods, to furnish additional matter for established plays. Even Faustus was dressed up in this manner: In 1597-four years after Marlowe's death-Dekker was paid 20s. for making additions to this tragedy; and in other five years, Birde and Rowley were paid £4 for further additions to it. Another source of uncertainty as to the paternity of old plays, was the unscrupulous manner in which booksellers appropriated any popular name of the day, and affixed it to their publications. In addition to the above dramatic productions, Marlowe joined with Nash in writing the tragedy of Dido, Queen of Carthage, and translated part of Hero and Leander-afterwards completed by Chapman-and the Elegies of Ovid. The latter was so licentious as to be burned by order of the Archbishop of Canterbury, yet they were often reprinted in defiance of the ecclesiastical interdict. Poor Marlowe lived, as he wrote, wildly: he was accused of entertaining atheistical opinions, a charge brought against him equally by his associates and by rigid moral censors. He evidently felt what he makes his own Tamburlaine express: Nature that formed us of four elements, unfortunate poet, was by his contemporary and fellow-dramatist, Michael Drayton: Next Marlowe, bathed in the Thespian springs, popularity of Alleyn, the principal actor in them, The great success of Marlowe's plays and the must have influenced Shakspeare in no small degree; and he fortunately possessed in Burbage a tragic performer capable of embodying his finest conceptions and dividing the applause of the town. Marlowe's Jew was in a certain sense the prototype of Shylock, first efforts in the same popular walk of the drama. and his historical plays the foundation of Shakspeare's There could never have been any serious or continued rivalry between the poets, even if death had not prevented it; but there may have been a short period when Shakspeare looked with envy and admiration on the wild, irregular, and towering genius that 'with no middle flight' successfully soared Above the Aonian mount, while it pursued Things unattempted yet in prose or rhyme. Originality, that first attribute of genius, belongs in an eminent degree to the ill-fated Marlowe. We subjoin part of the death-scene of Edward II. in his historical drama, a scene which, Charles Lamb says, moves pity and terror beyond any scene ancient or modern.' It may challenge comparison with Shakspeare's death of Richard II.; but Marlowe could not interest us in his hero as the great dramatist does in the gentle Richard: [Scene from Marlowe's Edward II.] Marlowe came to an early and singularly unhappy end. He was stabbed in an affray in a tavern at Deptford, and buried on the 1st of June 1593, the parish register recording that he was 'slain by Francis Archer.' Marlowe had raised his poniard against his antagonist-whom Meres and Anthony Wood describe as 'a serving-man, a rival of his lewd love'-when the other seized him by the wrist, Scene, Berkley Castle. The KING is left alone with LIGHTBORN, and turned the dagger, so that it entered Marlowe's own head, 'in such sort that, notwithstanding all the means of surgery that could be brought, he shortly after died of his wound.' The old ballad to which we have alluded thus describes the affair: His lust was lawless as his life, With his own dagger slain; He groaned, and word spoke never moe, Thus, condemned by the serious and puritanical, and stained with follies, while his genius was rapidly maturing and developing its magnificent resources, Marlowe fell a victim to an obscure and disgraceful brawl. The last words of Greene's address to him a year or two before are somewhat ominous: 'Refuse not (with me) till this last point of extremity; for little knowest thou how in the end thou shalt be visited.' The warning was Like the sad presaging raven, that tolls The sick man's passport in her hollow beak, And in the shadow of the silent night Doth shake contagion from her sable wings. Jew of Malta. The finest compliment paid to the genius of this *First published in 1834 by Mr Collier, in his New Particulars regarding the Works of Shakspeare. a murderer. Edward. Who's there? what light is that? wherefore com'st thou? Lightborn. To comfort you, and bring you joyful news. Edw. Small comfort finds poor Edward in thy looks. Villain, I know thou com'st to murder me. Light. To murder you, my most gracious lord! And what eyes can refrain from shedding tears, Edw. Weep'st thou already? list a while to me, Edw. And there, in mire and puddle have I stood They give me bread and water, being a king; 1 His keepers. |