LIBRARY OF THK University of California. GIFT OF \Sr>vS3w^.,x3../^.A„^ Vt- ^^tM:.r 20 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE pression— (Camden Society Papers) — Kemp's jig of ^Tlie Kitchen Stuff Woman' was a screaming farce of rude verses, some spoken, others sung; of good and bad witticism ; of extravagant acting and dancing. In the art of comic dancing Kemp was immoderately loved and admired. He paid professional vis- its to all the German and Italian courts, and was even summoned to dance his morris-dance before the Emperor Ru- dolph himself at Augsburg. ^^Kemp combined shrewdness with his rough humor. With a view to extend- ing his reputation and his profits, he an- nounced in 1599, his intention of danc- ing a morris-dance from London to Norwich; but to his annoyance, every inaccurate report of his gambols was hawked about in publication at the time by book-sellers or ballad-makers, like Kemp's farewell to the tune of ^ Kerry Merry Buff. ' In order to check the cir- culation of falsehood, Kemp offered, he tells us, his first pamphlet to the press AND ROBERT GREENE 21 ' (though at the time he was thought to ^have had a hand in writing the Anti- ^Martnist plays and pamphlets — five ^pieces erroneously attributed to his ^pen). The only copy known is in the 'Bodelean Library. The title ran ' ^Kemp's Nine Days Wonder/ the won- ^der referred to being performed in a ^ dance from London to Norwich then ^written by himself to satisfy his friends. ' A woodcut on the title page shows Kemp 4n elaborate costume with bells about 'his knees playing to the accompaniment 'of a drum and tabor, which a man at his 'side is playing. This pamphlet was en- 'tered in the Stationers Book April 22, '1600. The dedicatory salutation to 'Anna Pritton," one of her Majesty's maids of honor, shows us how arrogant and conceited he must have been. "Kemp started at seven o'clock in the "morning on the first Monday in Lent, "the starting point being in front of the "Lord Mayor's house, and half London "was astir to see the beginning of the u a 22 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE ^^ great exploit. His suite consisted of his '^taborer, Thomas Sly; his servant, Wil- ^4iam Bee; and his overseer or umpire, '^George Sprat, who Avas to see that every- ^^ thing was performed according to prom- '4se. According to custom, he put out a ^^sum of money before his departure on ^^ condition of receiving thrice the amount on his safe return. His own fatigues caused him many delays and he did not arrive in Norwich until twenty-three days after his departure. He spent only nine days in actual dancing on the road. Kemp himself on this occasion contrib- uted nothing to the music except the ^' sound of the bells, which were attached ^Ho his gaiters. In Norwich thousands ^^ waited to receive him in the open mar- ^^ket-place with an official concert. '^Kemp, as guest of the town, was enter- 'Hained at its expense and received hand- ^^some presents from the Mayor who '^ arranged a triumphal entry for him. '^The freedom, of the Merchant Adven- ^Hures Company was also conferred upon a AND ROBERT GREENE 23 '^liim, thereby assurins; liim a share in '^the yearly income to the amount of forty ^^ shillings— a pension for life. The very ^'buskins in which he had performed his '^ dance were nailed to the wall in the Nor- ^^wich Guild Hall and preserved in per- ^^petual memory of the exploit, which was "long remembered in popular literature. ^^In an epilogue Kemp announced that he 'Svas shortly to set forward as merrily as ^^I may; whither, I myself know not," and begged ballad makers to abstain from disseminating lying statements about him. Kemp's humble request to the im- pudent generation of ballad-makers, as he terms them, reads in part, "My nota- '^ble Shake-rags, the effect of my suit is ^^ discovered in the title of my supplica- ^^tion, but for your better understanding ^^for that I know you to be a sort of wit- '4ess bettle-heads that can understand ^^ nothing but that is knocked into your ^^ scalp; so farewell and crosse me no '^more with thy rabble of bold rhymes ^^lest at my return I set a crosse on thy 24 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE ^^ forehead tliat all men may know that ^'for a fool." It seems certain that Kemp kept his word in exhibiting his dancing powers on the continent. In Week's ^^ Avers" (1688) mention is made of Kemp's skipping into France. A ballad entitled ^^An Excellent New Medley" (dated about 1600) refers to his return from Rome. In the Elizabethan play ^^Jack Drum's Entertainment" (1616), however, there is introduced a song to which Kemp's morris dance is performed. Hey wood, writing at this period, in his '^Apology for Actors" (1612), says Wil- liam Kemp was a comic actor of high rep- utation, as well in the favor of Her Maj- esty as in the opinion of the general audi- ence. There is also a tribute from the j)en of Richard Rathway (1618). Ben Jonson, William Rowly and John Mar- ston also make mention of him. Pretty much all that relates to the gam- bols of sportive Kemp in the foregoing pages is a mere transcription from the '^Camden Society Papers." AND ROBERT GREENE 25 Our prime object is to establish Kemp's eligibility as claimant for Greene's cen- sure, before alluded to. We are content to advance the claim of another if found more decisive. We would elect to name Robert Wilson, senior, an old enemy, doubtless, of Robert Greene, if we did not think that Kemp has the better claim to that distinction. According to Collier, Wilson was not only an excellent per- former, but also a talented dramatist, especially renowned for his ready re- partee. Some writers affirm that the au- thors of the dramas "Faive Emm" and ^^ Martin Marsixtus" were one and the same person, and that this person was Robert Wilson, senior, author of ^^ Three ^ ^Ladies of London" and ^' Three Lords ^^and Ladies of London," the first pub- lished in 1584, and the other in 1590. ^^Faire Emm" and ^^ Martin Marsixtus" having been posthumously printed, Greene was severe on the author of the former for his blamphemous introduction of quotations from the Bible into his love 26 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE passages. ^^We know that the author at- ^^ tacked Greene's own works in return '^and called them lascivious." He had not read the works, but, then, an anony- mous writer may not very scrupulously confine himself to the truth. ^^Loth I was ^Ho display myself to the world but for ''that I hope to dance under a mask and ''bluster out like the wind, which, though ' ' every man heareth yet none can in sight "descrie." "I must answer in print what "they have offered on the stage" are the words of Greene. Robert Wilson may be advanced as claimant for Greene's reproof by some persons who are of the opinion that "up- start crow" was both actor and play- wright. Supposition says Kemp also wrote pamphlets and plays, although at this time he had not given his first and only work to the press. It matters little at whom he aimed, Kemp or Wilson, so long as Shakespere was not the object of the aimer. In the Parish Register of St. Giles, Cripplegate, we read, "Buried, AND ROBERT GREENE 27 ^^ Robert Wilson, yeoman, a player, 20 ^^Nov., 1600.'' These facts and concurring events in the life of AVilliam Kemp convince us that Shakspere was not, and Kemp very prob- ably was, the person at whom Greene lev- eled his satire by bearing witness to his (Kemp's) extemporizing power and his haughty and insolent demeanor in intro- ducing improvisions and interpolations of his '^own wit into poet's plays." From the foregoing, it is evident that, at the time the letter was written, Wil- liam Kemp enjoyed an unequaled and wide spread notoriety and transient fame, extending not only throughout England, but into foreign countries as well. And further, by reason of his great prominence, in a calling which Greene loathed, and despised, he was brought easily within the range of the latter 's con- temptuous designation, of '^upstart crow." Ill We have now reached the crucial mat- ter of the address which, according to the speculative opinion of many of Shaks- pere's biographers, contains all the words and sentences which they hope, when racked, may be made to yield support to their tramp conjecture that Robert Greene was the first to discover Shaks- pere as a writer of plays, or the amendor of the works of other poets. The identifi- able words, so called, are contained in the following sentences: ^^Yes, trust them ^'not; for there is an upstart crow, beau- 'Hified with our feathers, that, with his ^^Tyger's heart wrapt in a Player's hide." ''Upstart Crow" in Elizabethan Eng- lish m.eant in general, one who assumed a lofty or arrogant tone, a bragging, boast- ful, swaggerer suddenly raised to promi- nence and power, as was Kemp after the death of Richard Tarlton (1589). In an epistle prefixed to Greene's ''Arcadia" AND ROBERT GREENE 29 (1587), Thomas Nash speaks of actors ^^As a company of taifaty fools with their ^^ feathers;" and ''The players decked ''with poets' feathers like Aesop's "Crow" (R. B.) ; and again, "That with "his Tyger's heart wrapt in a Player's "hide." Tiger in the plain language of the day stood for bully, a noisy, insolent man, who habitually sought to overbear by clamors, or by threats. These charac- teristics are identifiable with Kemp; but the biographers of Shakspere are content to conjecture that Robert Greene's par- ody on the line "Oh Tyger's heart wrapt "in a woman's hide" is not only a con- tumelious reference to actor, William Shakspere, but also a declaration of his authorial integrity by their assignment of "Henry VI. Part III," which was in ac- tion at the "Rose," when Greene's cele- brated address was written. There is prima- facie evidence that Greene authored the line, which he semi-parodied in the address, which is found in two places. It appears in its 30 WILLIAM SHAKSIPERE initial form ^^Oli Tyger's heart wrapt in "a serpent's hide" in the play called, '^The Tragedy of Richard, Duke of ^^York," and ^^The Death of Good King ^^ Henry the Sixth/' and later with '^ woman" substituted for ^^ serpent," again, it is found in the third part of •'Henry VI.", founded on the true trag- edy, which was acted by Lord Pembroke's company, of which, as Nash tells us, Greene was chief agent, and for which he wrote more than four other plays. ''Henry VI. Part III" is generally ad- mitted to be the work of Greene, Mar- lowe and perhaps Peele. Furthermore, the catchwords in the lines parodied be- tray their author, which is a confirmatory fact. To borrow a citation from the pages of Dr. A. Grosart, "Every one who "knows his Greene knows that over and "over again he returns on anything of "his that caught on, sometimes abridging "and som^etimes expanding;" and in semi-parodying his own lines, wrapt ''Ty- "ger's heart" in several kinds of hides. AND ROBERT GREENE 31 It was William Kemp, the comic actor and dancer, not Shakspere, whom Greene wanted to hit. He did not consider as an author at all the ^'upstart crow" with his '^Tyger's heart wrapt in a player's hide," who bombasted orally his own improvis- ions and interpolations out in blank verse. In their great desire to discover Shaks- pere as the author, the words ^^ bombast ^^out in blank verse" are seized upon by Shakspere's commentators with evident greediness. But these words yield noth- ing in support of author-craft, for bom- bast or bombastry, in the idiom of the time, stood for high sounding words which might have proceeded from the mouth of a buffoon, clown, jester, monte- bank or actor, whose profession was to amuse spectators b}^ low antics and tricks, and whose improvisions and extemporiz- ings were destitute of rhyme, but pos- sessed of a musical rhythm called ^^ blank ^S^erse." The words ^^ blank verse" were doubtless intended for the ear of Mar- 32 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE lowe, the great innovator, who was thus reminded that the notorious jig-dancer and clown, William Kemp, declaimed his own improvisions and interpolations in the ^^ swelling bombast of a bragging ^^ blank- verse," as Nash called it, and was an absolute ^^ Johannes Factotum in his ''own conceit"— that is, a person em- ployed to do many things. Who could do more ''in his own conceit" than Kemp, who spent his life in mad jigs, as he says'? Who but Kemp, the chief actor in the low comedy scenes, who angered the academic play-writers by introducing "his own wit into their plays and make a merriment of "them?" Greene's address to his fellow crafts- men does not convey plagiary, or a fur- bishable, imputation, nor give color to, nor the slightest circumstance for, the conjecture that Shakspere's authorial career had been begun as the amender of other poet's plays anterior to the putative authorship of "Venus and Adonis." Hal- liwell-Phillips, the most indefatigable AND ROBERT GREENE 33 and reliable member of the Congress of Speculative Biographers, says that not one such play has been found revised, or amended, by Shakspere in his early ca- reer. Still in their extremity, Shaks- pere 's commentators give hospitality to stupid conjectures that are not reason- able inferences from concurrent facts, and construe Greene's censure of Kemp, (inferentially) as the first lit- erary notice of Shakspere. It shows an irrepressible desire without proof to confer authorship upon Shakspere one hundred and fifty years after his death. The Shakspere votaries cannot point to a single word, or sentence, in this celebrated address of Robert Greene which connects the contumelious name ^^Shake-scene" (dance-scene) with the characteristics of either the true, or the traditional, Shaks- pere. The biographers of Shakspere never grow weary of charging Robert Greene with professional jealousy and envy. The charge has no argumentative value, even U WILLIAM SHAKSPERE if granting Shakspere's early productiv- ity as a play-maker, or the amender of the works of other men, for Greene's ac- tivities ran in other lines; play-making was of minor importance, a sort of by- production of his resourceful and versa- tile pen. The biographers of Shakspere are unfortunate in having taken on this impression, because there is prima-facie evidence that Greene had forsworn writ- ing for the stage a considerable time be- fore the letter was written; thus he fol- lowed his friend Lodge, who in 1589 '^vows to write no more of that whence '^ shame doth grow." The biographers and commentators, agreeing in their asperities, charge Rob- ert Greene with that worst of passions, envy, basing it conjecturally on the as- sumption of Shakspere's proficiency as a drama-maker, notwithstanding the sin- cere and earnest words contained in his most pathetic letter, addressed to three friends, in which he counsels them to give up play writing, which he regarded as de- AND ROBERT GREENE 35 grading, placing their very necessities in the power of grasping shareholding ac- tors, and rendering it no longer a fit occupation for gentlemen. They fail to see the dying should be granted immu- nity from this ignoble and base passion. Our own rule of law admits as good evi- dence the testimony of a man who be- lieves himself to be dying, and so the letter states, ^^ desirous that you should ^4ive though himself be dying." Robert Greene's charge against ^^up- ^^ start crow" stands unshaken. Henry Chettle, the hack writer, and self admit- ted transcriber of the letter, does not re- tract Greene's statement. He denies nothing on behalf of an ^^ upstart crow" (Kemp) ; for the author of ^^Kind Hearts Dreams" does not identify '^Shake- ^Sscene" (dance-scene) with Shakspere, or Shakespeare, who was not one of those who took offense. It is expressly stated that there were two of the three fellow dramatists, addressed by Greene (Mar- lowe, Nash and Peele). Still we are told ?? 36 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE by Shakespearean writers that the dying genius was pained at witnessing tlie pro- ficiency of another in the very activity (play-making), which he had come to re- gard as congruous with strolling vaga- bondism. He enjoined his friends to seek better masters ^^for it is a pittie men of ''such rare wit should be subject to the ''pleasure of such rude groomes, "painted monsters, apes, burrs, peasants, "puppets," not play-makers, but actors, who had been beholden to him and his fel- low craftsmen whom he addressed. There is another aspect in which the charge of professional jealousy presents itself to the mind of the reader; those who covet that which another possesses, or envies success, popularity or fortune. To charge Greene with envy is most un- charitable by reason of his versatility. Now what was there in the possession of William Shakspere in 1592 that could have awakened in the mind of Robert Greene so base a passion as envy. The name Shakspere had no commercial value AND ROBERT GREENE 37 in 1592, for Shakspere of the stage is de- scribed many years after this date as merely a ^^man player" and "a. deserving ^'m.an," Note this admission by Dr. In- gleby: ^^4ssuredly no one during the ' century had any suspicion that the gen- ius of Shakespeare was unique." ^'His immediate contemporaries expressed no ^ great admiration for either him, or his ^ works." There is not a particle of evi- dence to show that Robert Greene was envious of any writer of his time ; nor had he cause to be; but the way his contem- poraries and successors robbed and plun- dered him proves the reverse to be true. ^^Nay, more, the men that so eclipst his fame, ^^Purloynde his plumes; can they deny the same?" The fact is, Shakspere passed through and out of life without having attained the distinction, or celebrity, won by Greene in his brief literary career of but nine short years. The more truthful of Shakspere 's biographers concede that the 38 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE subject of their memoirs was not, in his day, highly regarded, and that his obscur- ity in 1592 is obvious. There was not the least danger of the author of '' Hamlet" ^^ driving to penury" the dean of English novelists, Robert Greene, who was su- preme in prose romance, a species of lit- erature, which appealed to the better class of the reading public. Rival-hating envy ! Robert Greene cannot be brought within the scope of such a charge, for in 1592, he was not striving to obtain the same object which play writers were pur- suing. The fame of Robert Greene during his lifetime eclipsed that of his contempor- aries. ^^He was in fact the popular au- "thoT of the day. His contemporaries ^^ applauded the facility with which he ^ turned his talents to account." ^^In a ^^ night and a day," says Nash, ^^ would he '^have yearked up a pamphlet as well as '4n seven years, and glad was that prin- ^Her that might be so blest to pay him ^^dear for the very dregs of Ms wit," AND ROBERT GREENE 39 Even Ben Jonson, '^the greatest man of ^^the last age," according to Dryden, had no such assurance in his day, if we ma}" judge from his own account of his liter- ary life, which shows that he had to strug- gle for a subsistence, as no printer was found glad, or felt himself blest, to pay him dear for the cream, much less the very ^^ dregs of his wit." He told Drum- mond that the half of his comedies were not in print, and that he had cleared but 200 pounds by all his labor for the public theatre. It has been said by one : ^^ In the breadth of his dramatic quality, his range over every kind of poetic excel- lence, Jonson was excelled by Shakes- peare alone." (p. 437, ^'A Short His- tory of the English People.") When not subsidized by the court he was driven by want to write for the London theatres ; he lived in a hovel in an alley, where he took service with the notorious play broker. To such as he, reference is made by Henslow, who in his diary records the grinding toil and the starvation a 40 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE u wages of. Ms hungry and drudging '^bondsmen," who w^ere struggling for the meanest necessities of life. This Ti- tan of a giant brood of playwrights, in the days of his declension wrote mendi- cant epistles for bread, and, doubtless, in his extremity recalled Robert Greene, the admonisher of three brother poets ^^that ^ spend their wits in making plaies." 'Base minded men, all three of you! if by ^my miseries ye be not warned, for unto ^none of you, like me, sought those burrs ^to cleave, those puppits, I mean that 'speak from our m^ouths those antics ' garnisht in our colors. Is it not strange 'that I, to whom they all have been be- ' holding, shall, were ye in that case that 'I am now, be both at once of them for- 'saken? . . . . O that I might in- 'treate your rare wits to be employed in 'm.ore profitable courses, and let those 'apes imitate your past excellence, and 'never more acquaint them with your ad- ' mired inventions." It was one of this breed of puppets, we AND ROBERT GREENE 41 are told, who awakened incarnate envy in the breast of Robert Greene, and engen- dered rivalship against William Shaks- pere, whose votaries, in their dreams of fancy, see him revising the dramatic writings of Robert Greene, the most re- sonrcefnl, versatile, tireless and prolific of literary men. He was a writer of greatest discernment from the viewpoint of the people of his time, '^for he pos- '^sessed the ability to write in any vein "that would sell." He only, of all the writers of his time, gave promise of being able to gain a competence by the pen alone, a thing which no writer did, or could do, in that day, by writing for the stage alone. Hon. Cushman K. Davis in ^'The Law" in Shakespeare" says, "He ^^(Shakspere) is the first English author ^^who made a fortune with his pen." In the absence of credible evidence, Mr. Da- vis assumes that the young man who came up from Stratford was the author of the plays. The senator does not seem aware of the fact that Shakspere of 42 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE Stratford was a shareholding actor, re- ceiving a share in the theatre, or its pro- fits, in 1599 ; a partner in one or more of the chief companies; a play broker who purchased arid mounted the plays of other men; and that he, like Burbage, Henslowe and Alleyn, speculated in real estate. He was shrewd in money matters and became very wealthy, but not by writing plays. Suppose . that William Shakspere of Stratford-on-Avon had au- thored all the plays associated with his name, that alone would not have made him wealthy. The price of a play varied from four to ten pounds, and all Shaks- pere 's labors for the public theatre would have brought no more than five hundred pounds. The diary of Philip Henslowe makes it clear that up to the year 1600 the highest price he ever paid was six pounds. The Shakespeare plays were not exceptionally popular in that day, not be- ing then as now, "the talk of the town." Not one of them equalled in popularity AND ROBERT GREENE 43 Kid's ^'Tlie Spanish Tragedy," or Mar- lowe's ^^Dr. Faustus." Shakespeare was soon superseded by Fletcher in popular regard. Only one of the Shakespeare tragedies, one historical play, and eight comedies were presented at the Court of James First, who reigned twenty-two years. Plays, written by such hack writers as Dearborn, or Chettle, were quite as acceptable to princes. Robert Greene's romances were ^^a bower of delight," a kind of writing held in high favor by all classes. Sir Thomas Overbury describes his chambermaid as reading Greene's works over and over again. It is a pleasure to see in the elder time Greene's writings in hands so full of household cares, since he labored to make young lives happy. Robert Greene's works express every variation in the changing conditions of life. The poetry of his pastoral landscapes are vivid word pictures of English sylvan scenes. The western sky on amorous autumn days is mantled with sheets of burnished gold. 44 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE The soft and gentle zephyr blows over castled crag and fairy 2i;len fragrant with the breath of flowers. In the manuals of our literature great prominence is given to the fact that Greene led a dissolute, or irregular, life, as if the debauchment of the author was transmitted by his writings. There are no indecencies in his works to attest the passage of a debauchee. Like many per- sons born to, and nurtured by, religious parents, Greene doubtless exaggerated his own vices. He was bad, but not alto- gether bad. It may truly be said of him that, in regard to all that pertains to pen- itence and self abasem^ent, he spares not himself, but like John Bun5^an, he was given to selfupbraiding. He (Bunyan) declares that it is true that he let loose the reins on the neck of his lust ; that he delighted in all transgressions against the divine law; and that he was the ring leader of the youth of Elstow in all vice. But, when those who wished him ill, ac- cused him of licentious amours, he called AND ROBERT GREENE 45 God and the angels to attest his purity. No woman, lie said, in heaven, earth, or hell, could charge him with having ever made any improper advances to her. Blasphemy and Sabbath-breaking seem to have been Bunyan's only transgression after all. In Robert Greene's writings, we have the reverse of '^Herrick's shame- ^'ful pleading that if his verse was im- '^pure, his life was chaste." Unlike Her- rick, Greene did not minister to the un- chaste appetite of readers for tainted lit- erature, either in his day, or in the after time. Powerless to condemn Greene's writings, Shakspere's votaries would des- ecrate his ashes. Deplore as we must his dissolute liv- ing, it was of short duration, for he went from earth at the age of two and thirt}^, and the evil effects have been lost in Time's abatements. His associates, doubtless were as dissolute as he himself. Nash wrote: ^^With any notorious crime '^I never knew him tainted, and he inher- '^ited more virtues than vices." The 46 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE reader, at any rate, will give but little credence to the accusations of such a hyena-dog as Gabriel Harvey. Robert Greene was not ^4ip-holy/' nor heart- hollow, for, in regard to his wife and their separation, ^'he took to himself all ^' blame, breathed never a word against ^^her, and did not squander all of his ^^ earnings in dissipation, but sent part of ^'his incom^e to the good woman, the wife ^^of his youth, and addressed to her in ^ Moving trust the last letter he wrote." Gabriel Harvey, drenched in hate, could not rob the ^ ^ Sweet- wife letter of its ^^ pathos." In all the galleries of noble women, Greene's heroines deserve a foremost place, for all the gracious types of wom- anhood belonged to Greene, before they became Shakespeare's. ^'Robert Greene '^is the first of our play-writers to repre- '^sent upon the public stage the purity ^^and sweetness of wife and maiden." Unselfish love and maternity are sketched with feminine delicacy and minuteness of AND ROBERT GREENE 47 touch in all the tenderness of its purit}^ His writings have assauged the sorrow of the self-sacrificing mother, who is always a queen uncrowned, long suffering and faithful. Robert Green "i^ always on the ^^side of the angels." When loud mouthed detraction calls him badhearted, we should not forget that this confessedly dissolute man could, and did, keep invio- late the purity of his imagination; few have left a wealthier legacy in feminine models of moral and physical beauty. What is most characteristic in the pages of Greene is the absence of the indecen- cies which attest the passage of the au- thor of ^^Lear," ^^the damnable scenes ^^ which raised the anger of Swinburn and ^Svhich Coleridge attempted in vain to ''palliate." Little is known of Greene's life; and into the little we do know, his malignant enemy, Gabriel Harvey, has attempted to inject a deadly virus. The inaccurate figurative expressions in his reputed posthumously printed works (an alleged 48 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE description of Iiis manner of life) cannot be interpreted literally, ^'but may be ^^ resolved in a large measure into morbid ^^self-upbraidings like the confession '^made by the revival convert who sees ^^and paints his past in its very darkest ^^ colors." But why should the m.odern reader linger over the irregularities of dissolute-living authors like Greene and Poe, whose writings are exceptionally clean. Remember Robert Burns' noble words, ^^What done we partly may com- ^^pute but know not what resisted." The commentators and pharisaic critics, who have written concerning Greene, are mere computists of the poet's vices; min- isters of hate, who burlesque the poet's soul stiffening with despair, and display their ghoulish instincts ^4n travestying ^^so pathetic and tragical a deathbed as "^^ Greene's." Students of Elizabethan literature know that Robert Greene re- sisted the temptation to write in the best paying vein of the age, that of minister- ing to the unchaste appetites of readers AND ROBERT GREENE 49 for ribaldries. ^^To his undying honor ^^ Robert Greene, equally with James ^'Thompson, left scarcely a line, that, dy- ^4ng, he need have wished to blot out." There is no record extant of his living likeness. Chettle gives this pleasant de- scription of his personal appearance, ^'With him was the fifth, a man of indif- ^^ferent years; of face, amiable; of body, ^Svell proportioned; his attire after the ^^ habit of scholar-like gentleman, onl}^ his ^^hair was somewhat long, whom I sup- '^ posed to be Robert Greene, Master of ^^Arts." ISTash notices his tawny beard, "si jolly long red peake like the spire of "a steeple which he cherished continually ^Svithout cutting, whereat a m.an might ^Miang a jewel, it was so^harp and pend- ^^ant." Harvey, who had never seen Greene, says that he wore such long hair as was only worn by thieves and cut- throats, and taunts Nash with wearing the same ^^ unseemly superfluity." The habit of wearing the hair long is not un- usual with poets. John Milton ^^cher- 50 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE ^4shed the same superfluity" as does also Joaquin Miller. Robert Greene expired on the third of September, 1592. When the dead genius was in his grave, Harvey gloated and leered with hellish glee, and wrote of Greene's '^most woeful and rascal estate, ^4iow the wretched fellow or, shall I saj^, "the prince of beggars, laid all to gage ^^fore some few shillings and was at- ' ' tended by lice. ' ' This is one of Harvey 's malignant, vitriolic, discharges in his at- tempt to spatter the memory and deface the monument of the dead. ^^ Achilles ^^ tortured the dead body of Hector, and, ^^as Antonious and his wife, Fulva, tor- ^'mented the lifeless corpse of Cicero, so '^Gabriel Harvey hath showed the same 'inhumanities to Greene that lies low in ''his grave." The testimony of Gabriel Harvey, whose malignant attacks on the memory of Greene by monstrously exag- gerated statement, is vitiated by his own statement that " he was cheated out of an AND ROBERT GREENE 51 ^^ action for libel against Greene by his ^^ death." Harvey was vulgarly ostentations, courting notoriety by the gorgeousness of his apparel; currying favor with the great, and aping Venetian gentility after his return from Italy. He was a dabbler in astrology, a prognosticator of earth- quakes, and constructor of prophetic al- manacs. The failure of his predictions subjected him to much bitter ridicule. His inordinate vanity is best shown by his publication of everything spoken or w^ritten in commendation of himself, by his obsequious friends and flatterers, who snickered with the public generally, as he was an object of ridicule, the butt on which to crack their jokes. In one of those fanciful studies in Elizabethan literature, which we now hold in our hand, we may read, in a work called ^^A Snip for an Upstart Courtier '^or A Quaint Dispute Between Velvet- ' ' -breeches and Cloth-breeches, ' ' that Greene has very vulgarly libeled Har- 52 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE vey's ancestry; but, when we turn to Greene 's book we learn that the vulgarity consists in calling Gabriel Harvey's father a ropemaker. Only a snob would regard any honest employment as a deg- radation, and furthermore, the passage does not point contumeliously and spite- fully at Gabriel Harvey's father, for the reference is very slight. '^How is he ^^ (Gabriel's father) abused?" writes Nash, ^^ Instead of his name he is called ^^by the craft he gets his living with." Still the lines which so mortally offended Gabriel were suppressed by Greene. Not- withstanding this, those biographers and critics whose sole object is to blacken the poet's memory, conceal from the reader the fact of the detachment of all refer- ence to a rope-maker. Harvey was ex- tremely anxious to push himself among; the aristocrac^y in order to conceal his humble antecedents. With all his faults, there was nothing of this weakness or snobbishness in Robert Greene, who had himself sprung from the AND ROBERT GREENE 53 common people, though born to good con- dition. Eobert Burton, a contemporary, writing in ^^The Spacious Time of the ^^ Great Elizabeth" says that idleness was the mark of the nobility, and to earn mone}^ in any kind of trade was despic- able. Gabriel Harvey flung in Greene's face the fact that he made a living by his pen. Had young Greene lived a longer life, wdth all its wealth of bud and bloom, we should now have in fruition a luxur- iance of imagination and versatility of diction possessed by few. With longer life he would doubtless ^^have gained ^'mastery of himself, when he would have ^'gone forward on the path of moral re- ^' generation;" for there was in the po- et's strivings, during the last few years of his life, the promise and prophecy of a glorious future. His soul enlarged, he battled for the commonweal; his heart was with the lowly and his voice was for the right when freedom's friends were few. In his play '^The Pinner of Wake- 54 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE ''field,'' first printed in 1599, Eobert Greene makes a hero, and a very strenu- ous one, of a mere pound-keeper who proudly refuses knighthood at the hands of the king. In the sketch given by Pro- fessor J. M. Brown we read, ''In the first "scene of the play w^hen Sir Nicolas Man- "nering appears in Wakefield with his "commission from the rebel. Earl of Ken- "dal, and demands victuals for the rebel "army, the stalwart pound-keeper steps "forward, makes the knight eat his words "and then his seal! 'What! are you in '"choler? I will give you pills to cool '"your stomach. Seest thou these seals? '"Now by my father's soul, which was a '"yeoman's when he was alive, eat them "'or eat my dagger's point, proud '"squire !' The Earl of Kendal and other "noblem.en next appear in disguise and "send their horses into the Pinner's corn "to brave him. The pound-keeper ap- "proaches and after altercation strikes "the Earl. Lord Bondfield says, 'Villain, '"what hast thou done? Thou hast struck AND ROBERT GREENE 55 '^'an Earl.' Pinner answers, ^Why, what ^'^care I? A poor man that is true is bet- ^^^ter than an earl if he be false'." A yeoman boxing or cuffing the ear of an earl! This has all the breezy freshness of American democracy. . ^^How different from this is Shakes- '^peare's conception of the place of the ^^working-man in society. In King Lear,\ "si good servant protests against the cru- ^'elty of Regan and Cornwall toward ^^ Gloucester, and is killed for his cour- ^^age." '^Give me my sword," cries Re- gan, "a peasant stand up thus!" The voice of the yeoman is often heard in Greene's drama, not as buifoon and lackey, as in Shakespeare, but as freeman whose voice is echoed at Naseby and ' Marston's gory fields of glory, w^here the sturdy yeomanry of England strove to do and to dare for the eternal right— sol- diers w^ho never cowered from ^^sheen of ^^ spear," nor blanched at flashing steel. With Greene rank is never the measure of merit as with Shakespeare. To peer 56 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE and yeoman alike, he gave equal hospital- ity; for Robin Greene, as his friends called him, was as friendly to the poor man's rags as to the pnrple Robe of King. Greene in his popular sympathies is thoroughly with the working classes, the common people, of whom Lincoln saj^s, ^^God loves most, otherwise he ''would not have made so many of them." His heroes and heroines are taken, many of them, from humble life. In his Pin- ner of Wakefield there is a very clear discernment of democratic principle in the struggle against prerogative. Half of those plays of Greene's which we still possess, are devoted to the representation of the life of the common people which gave lineage to Abraham Lincoln, Ben- jamin Franklin and John Bunyan. If these are any guide to his character, his is one distinguished both by his amicable and by his amiable qualities. We have in the ''Coney-catching se- "ries" Greene's exposure of the practice of sharpers and knaves, who were fleec- AND ROBERT GREENE 57 ing the country people who came to Lon- don. The author of these tracts shows great courage in his effort to abate fool- catching. Greene's life was threatened, and it required the utmost exertion of his friends to prevent his assassination. The Coney-catching knaves, who felt the hal- ter being drawn about their necks, threat- ened to cut off his hand if he would not desist. Greene, notwithstanding these threats, would not be swerved from his noble aim, but met them like a true Ro- man, single-handed and alone, while his literary enemies took advantage of this opportunity to blacken his good name. ^^ Greene made these revelations for the '^good of the commonwealth, and dis- ^ Splayed great courage in facing all risks ^4n so doing. No books are more out- '^and-out sincere." Greene's account of the repentance and reform.ation of a fallen woman, told in a way that discloses the poet's kindness of heart and fullness of humanitarian spirit, reveals his better self. ^^He as- 58 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE ^^sured liis. readers, in the words of the ^^ woman herself, that her first false step ^^gradually led her on to complete ruin, ^^so heavy-burdened with grief and ^^ shame that death seemed to her a bene-. ^ ^faction, and the grave the only place for '^perfect rest/' Not a few there may have been, who, on reading Greene's ac- count of the reformation and redemption of this unfortunate woman, were started on the path of regeneration, while the dim-eyed critic can see nothing but the blurred reputation of the poet. But \yho shall estimate Robert Greene's influence on individual happiness? Who shall say how many thousands have been made Aviser, happier, and better by a writer who held out a kind and friendly hand, and had a heart as true behind it? His statue would crown Trafalgar's towerino; shaft more worthily than the statue of England's greatest naval hero does; for there is more true honor and merit in the man who wrote purely to bring back from evil coursers to a state of moral rec- AND ROBERT GREENE 59 titude, than in a monument for the vic- tory over many enemies. Greene's non-dramatic works are the largest contribution left by any Eliza- bethan writer to the novel literature of the day. ^^He was at once the most ver- ^^satile and the most laborious of literary ^^men." Famous, witty, and brilliant, he Avas one of the founders of English fic- tion, and is conceded to be the author of half a dozen plays for the theatre. In them we have the mere ^^ flotsam and jet- ^^sam" of his prolific pen. What would we not give for all the plays of Robert Greene from whom his contemporaries and successors purloyned plumes! Ac- cording to Ben Jonson, it was as safe to pillage from Greene in his day, as it is to persecute his reputation in ours. He was a graduate of both universities, was a man of genius, but did not live to do his talents full justice. A born story teller, like Sir Walter Scott, he could do good work easily and quickly. We glean the following from the pages 60 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE of '^Tlie English Novel in the Time of ^Shakespeare," by J. J. Jusserand, ^Greene's prose tale, 'Pandosto, the Tri- ^^umph of Time," had an extraordinary ^success, while Shakspere's drama ^Win- ^Her's Tale^ founded on Greene's Pan- ^dosto was not printed, either in authen- ^tic or pirated shape, before the appear- ^ance of the 1623 folio, while Greene's Uprose story was published in 1588 and 'was renamed half a century later, 'The ''History of Dorostus and Fawnia.' So 'popular was it that it was printed, again 'and again. We know^ of at least seven- 'teen editions, and in all likelihood there 'were more throughout the seventeenth 'century, and even under one shape or 'another throughout the eighteenth. It 'was printed as a chap-book during this 'last period and in this costume began a 'new life. It was turned into verse in '1672, but the highest and most extraor- 'dinary compliment of Greene's per- 'formance was its translation into 'French, not only once but twice. The AND ROBERT GREENE 61 '^ first time was at a moment when the ^'English language and literature were ^'practically unknown and as good as ^^non-existent to French readers. In fact ^' every thing from Greene's pen sold. All ^^of his writings enjoyed great popular- ^^ity in their day, and, after the lapse of ''three centuries, have been deemed wor- "thj of publication, insuring the reha- ''bilitation of Greene's splendid genius." We are content to believe that almost all of the so-called posthumous writings of Eobert Greene are spurious, and that but few genuine chips were found in the literary work-shop of the poet after his death. We accept the very striking and impressive address to his brother play- wrights, the after-words to a ''Groats Worth of Wit." We also may shyly ac- cept the sweet wife letter as the authentic product of the poet's mind, heart and hand. Of this letter, there are tw^o ver- sions, neither of which are very trust- worthj^, as both are from posthumed pam- phlets. One, which we believe to be a 62 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE forgery, is found in ''The Repentance." The other is found in a pamphlet written by his malignant enemy, Harvey, which contains an account of the poet's last ill- ness and death. Nash writes about Har- vey, ''From the lousy circumstance of his "poverty before his death and sending "that miserable writt to his wife, it can- "not be but thou lyest, learned Gabriel." We would not set down as auto-biograph- ical the posthumous pamphlets, even though of unquestioned authenticity, for in the repentance Greene is made to sav, "I need not make long discourse of my "parents who for their gravitie and hon- "est life are well known and esteemed "among their neighbors, namely in the "citie of Norwich where I was bred and "borne;" and then he is made to contra- dict all this in "Groats Worth of Wit," where the father is called Gorinius, a de- spicable miser. "Greene is not known to "have had a brother to be the victim of "his cozenage." As "there is a soul of truth in things AND ROBERT GREENE 6'S ^•^ erroneous/' there may be a soul of truth in the following letter contained in ^'The ^^Eepentance": ^^ Sweet wife, if ever there was any ^^good will or friendship between thee ''and me, see this bearer (my host) ''satisfied of his debt. I ow^e him tenne "pounds and but for him I had per- "ished in the streetes. Forget and for- "give my wrongs done unto thee and "Almighty God have mercie on my "soule. Farewell till w^e meet in hea- "ven for on earth thou shalt never see "me more. "This 2nd day of Sept., 1592. "Written by thy dying husband, "ROBERT GREENE." The reader will notice the statement in the posthumed letter that the poet had contracted a debt to the sum of ten pounds, equal to $400 present money, but there is nothing whatever about leaving many papers in sundry bookseller's hands which Chettle averred in the ad- dress "To the Gentlemen Readers Kind "Hearts Dreame." If this were a fact, 64 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE the bookseller doubtless would have been called upon; "see this bearer (my host) '^satisfied of his debt/' and sweet wife would not have bourne the burden while booksellers felt themselves blest to pay dear for the very dregs of her husband's wit. Those writers who express no doubt of the authenticity of the posthumed pam- phlets, leave their readers to set down as auto-biographical whatever^ portions of those pieces he may think proper. At the same time the trend of impulse is given the reader by the critics that he may not fail to read the story of the poet's life out of characters devoid of all faith in hon- esty and in virtue, while the author (Greene) is anxious evidently to point a moral by them and reprove vice. These forged pamphlets and so-called auto- biographical pamphlets make Greene ac- cuse him. self of crimes which he surely did not commit, such as the crime of theft and murder. He says, ^^I exceeded all ^'others in these kinds of sinnes," and he AND ROBERT GREENE 65 is represented as the most atrocious vil- lain that ever walked the earth. There is not an atom of evidence adduced to show Francisco in ^^ Never Too Late" was in- tended by the author for a picture of him- self, and we do not believe that Greene wrote the pamphlet in which Roberto, in ^^ Groats Worth of Wit" is one of the de- spicable characters. Very little is known with any degree of certainty concerning the personal life of Robert Greene, and very little, if any- thing, in regard to his family or ancestry, although much prominence is given by imaginary writers to the history of his person in the manuals of our literature. These writers attach an auto-biograph- ical reality to their dreams of fancy. They take advantage of Greene's un- bounded sincerity and his own too candid confession in the address to the pla}^- writers, and of his irrepressible desire to sermonize, whether in plays or pamphlets, with all the fervor of a devout Methodist having a license to exhort. The closest 66 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE analogy to Greene's position, in fact, is that of the revival preacher— as Prof. Storojenko puts it— '^ who, to make the ^picture of the present as telling as pos- ^sible, sees and paints his past in its very ^blackest colors. This self-flagellation is ^strongly connected with a really attrac- 'tive feature of Greene's character; we ^mean his sincerity, a boundless sincerity Svhich never allowed him to spare him- ^self. Robert Greene was incapable of ^posing and pretending to be what he ^was not. This is whv we may fearlessly ^believe him w^hen he speaks of the an- ^guish of his soul and the sincerity of 'his repentance. A man whose deflection 'from the path of virtue cost him so 'much moral suffering cannot, of course, 'be measured by the same standard as 'the man who acts basely, remains at 'peace with himself and defends his ' faults by all kinds of sophistry. S'peak- 'ing further of his literary labors, he 'never dealt in personalities in exposing 'some of the crying nuisances of London AND ROBERT GREENE 67 ^^and is perfectly silent as to the moral ^^ change in his own character, which was ^'the frnit of his dealing with them. In "si w^ord, he conceals all that might, in his ^^ opinion, modify the sentence that he ^^ pronounces on his own life for the edi- ^'fication of others." IV There is a commendative piece of writ- ing which should be read in connection with Greene's letter to ^^ divers play- '^ makers.'' We refer to the preface to ^^Kind Hearts Dreams," written by Henry Chettle, which was registered De- cember 8, 1592. Chettle says, ^^ About 'Hhree months since died M. Robert ^'Greene, leaving many papers in sundry ^'book-seller's hands, among others, his ^'^ Groats Worth of Wit' in which a letter '^ written to diverse play-makers is offen- ^'sively by one or two of them taken." Chettle 's statement about many papers in sundry book-sellers hands may be dis- credited because of the poet's urgent ne- cessities, and the strong desire on the part of book-sellers to publish Greene's Avritings. Of this we may be sure, that the letter w^as not placed in book-sellers hands by Greene or for him. He would not have called his friends to repentance AND ROBERT GREENE 69 in that way, for it would have given pub- licity to the defects in the lives of his friends as well as his own. The letter evidences the fact of its hav- ing been written as a private letter to three of the poet's friends (Marlowe, Nash and Peele). If sent, it did not reach them, but was surreptitiously procured, doubtless, by some hack-writer, (inferen- tially, Henry Chettle, who transcribed it.) Gabriel Harvey may have been ac- cessory to its procurement, as his ghoul- ish instinct led him to visit the poor shoe- maker's house where Greene died, on the day following the poet's funeral in search of matter foul and defamatory, and with ink of slander to blacken the poet's mem- ory. This snobbish ape of gentility, Ga- briel Harvey, hated Greene because he called his father by "the craft he gets his ^ living with." However, when Greene learned that Harvey was ashamed of his father's humble employment, that of ropemaker, he straightway canceled the offensive allusion, but Harvey still con- 70 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE tinned to manifest the same hatefnl ma- lignity and venomons spite. The letter is a fine character stndy of the three poets addressed. Greene drew out the true feature of every distinguishing mark or trait, both mental and moral, of these, his fellow-craftsmen, who, though he did not name them, are asserted to he Marlowe, Nash and Peele. Greene characterized them indiAddually, and twice he collec- tively admonished them thus, ^^Base ^ ^minded men all three of you, if by my ^'miseries ye be not warned," and, in the concluding part of the letter, ^'But now '^return I again to you three, knowing my ''miseries is to you no news and let me ''heartily entreat you to be warned by "my harm.es." All of Shakspere's biographers and comm.entators aver that Shakspere was not one of the three persons addressed. How then could Chettle's words bear wit- ness to his ( Shakspere 's) civil demeanor or factitious grace in writing. Mr. Pleay stated many years ago (1886) that there AND ROBERT GREENE 71 was an entire misconception of Chettle's language that Sliakspere was not one of those w^ho took offense. They are ex- pressl}^ stated to have been two of the three authors addressed by Greene. The recent Shakespearean writers have evi- dently mistaken Chettle's placation of Nash or Peele, or either of the three play- makers addressed by Greene, it does not matter which, for an apology to Sliaks- pere, who was not the object of Greene's satire or Chettle's placation for were not Nash, Marlowe and Peele each ^^ excellent ^4n the quality he professes?" Had they not lived in an age of compliment they would have merited these complim.ental phrases of Henry Chettle? For their names were in the trump of fame. Christopher Marlowe, the first great English poet, was the father of English tragedy and the creator of English blank verse. He is, by general consent, identi- fied with the first person addressed by Greene, ^^With thee will I first begin, 'Hhou famous gracer of tragedians, who 72 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE ^'hath said in his heart there is no God. ^'Wliy sliould thy excellent wit, His gift, ^^be so blinded that thou should give no ''glory to the giver?" The second per- son referred to is identifiable with Thomas Nash, ''With thee I join, young "juvenall, that by ting satyrist,'' though not with equal accord, as the first with Marlowe, as some few persons prefer to name Thomas Lodge. This prediliction for Lodge is based on their having been co-authors in the making of a play ("That lastlie with me together writ a "comedie"). This fact, however, signi- fies very little, for it is generally conceded that Marlowe, Nash, Peele, Lodge and Greene mobilized their literary activities in the production of not a few of the ear- lier plays called Shakspere's. We are convinced that Lodge was not the person addressed by Greene as young juvenall. He was absent from England at the date of Greene's letter, having left in 1591 and did not return till 1593, Moreover, he had declared his intention AND ROBERT GREENE ,73 long before to write no more for the the- atre. In 1589 he vowed '^to write no more ''of that whence shame doth grow." At Christmas time in 1592 he was in the Straits of Magellan. Born in 1550, Lodge led a virtuous and quiet life. He was seventeen years older than Nash, and four years older than Greene, who would not, in addressing one four years his sen- ior, have used these words, ''Sweet bo}^ "might I advise thee." The youthful- ness of Nash fits well. He was boyish in appearance. Born in Nov., 1567, he was seven years younger than Greene, and was the youngest member of their fellow- ship. The mild reproof "for his too "much liberty of speech" contained in the letter, justifies the belief that Thomas Nash was referred to as "young juvenall, "that by ting satyrist, who had vexed "scholars with bitter lines." The equal unanimity and general con- sent which identifies the first with Mar- lowe, identifies the third and last person, who had been co-worker in drama making 74 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE of the same fellowship, with George Peele, ^^and thou no less deserving than ^^the other two, in some things rarer, in ^^ nothing inferior" driven (as myself) to ^^extreame shifts, a little have I to say to ^Hhee.'' Chettle could, however, have bourne witness to Peele "his civil de- '^meanor and factitious grace in writ- ^4ng." Peele held the situation of city poet and conductor of pageants for the court. His first pageant bears the date of 1585, his earliest known play, ''The ''Arraignment of Paris" was acted be- fore 1584. "Peele was the object of pat- "ronage of noblemen for addressing lit- "erary tributes for payment. The Earl "of Northumberland seems to have pre- "sented him with a fee of three pounds, "In May, 1591, when Queen Elizabeth "visited Lord Burleigh's seat of Thea- "bald, Peele was employed to compose "certain speeches addressed to the queen, "which deftly excused the absence of the "master of the house, by describing in "blank verse in his 'Polyphymnic,' the AND ROBERT GREENE 75 ^4ioiiorable triumph at tilt. Her majesty ^^was received by the Right Honorable ^Hhe Earl of Cumberland." In January, 1595, George Peele, Master of Arts, pre- sented his ^^Tale of Troy" to the great Lord Treasurer through a simple messen- ger, his eldest daughter, ^^necessities ^^ servant." Peele was a practised rhet- orician, who embellished his writings with elegantly adorned sentences and choice fancies. He was a man of pol- ished intellect and social gifts, and pos- sessed of a very winsome personality. ^'His soft, caressing woman voice" low, sweet and soothing, may have had a con- siderable effect upon Chettle, and could not have been unduly honored by Chet- tle 's apology in witnessing '^his civil de- ^^meanor and factitious grace in writ- ^4ng." As Henry Chettle had been brought into some discredit by the publication of Greene's celebrated letter, and his admis- sion that he re-wrote it, we know that the letter must have been surreptitiously pro- 76 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE cured as evidenced by its contents. The letter is as authentic, doubtless, as any garbled or mutilated document may be; but Cliettle's foolish statement contained in his preface to ^'Kind Hearts Dreams" has awakened the suspicion, in regard to the authorship of ^^ Groats Worth of ^'Wit," that, while the letter (or as much as Chettle chose to have published) is genuine, '^I put something out," the pam- phlet ^^ Groats Worth of Wit" is spuri- ous, and evidently not the w^ork of Robert Greene. Who can be content to believe Chettle 's statement that Greene placed this criminating letter in the hands of printers, or that it was left in their hands by others at his request? A private let- ter, written to three friends, who have been co-workers in drama-making, call- ing them to repentance, charging one (Marlowe) with diabolical atheism! This was a very serious charge in those times, when persons were burnt at the stake for professing their unbelief in the doctrine of the Trinity. AND ROBERT GREENE 77 Chettle was the first to make current the charge of atheism against Marlowe, the one of them that took offense, and w^hose acquaintance he (Chettle) did not seek. Chettle reverenced Marlowe's learning, and w^ould have his readers be- lieve that he did greatly mitigate Greene's charge, but the contents of the letter as transcribed by Chettle and printed by the bookm^akers, discredit Chettle 's state- ment, as the charge of diabolical atheism was not struck out, and was, if proven, punishable by death. There is no evidence adduced to show that Marlowe was indignant because of Greene's admonition, contained in a pri- vate letter written to three play-makers of his own fellowship, but resented the public charge of atheism, for which he, Chettle, as accessory and transcriber, was chiefly responsible in making public. We know that Marlowe was in retreat at the time of his death at Deptford, for in May, 1593, following the publication of Greene's letter printed at the end of the 78 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE pamphlet, ^^ Groats Worth of Wit/' the Privy Council issued a warrant for Mar- lowe's arrest. A copy of Marlowe's blas- phemies, so called, was sent to Her High- ness, and endorsed by one Richard Bame, who was soon after hanged at Tyburn for some loathsome crimx. But a few days later, before Marlowe's apprehension, they wrote in the parish-book at Dept- ford on June 1st ^^Christopher Marlowe ^^ slain by Francis Archer." At the age of thirty, he, ^^the first and greatest in- '^ heritor of unfulfilled renown," went where ^'Orpheus and where Homer are." The loss to English letters in Mar- lowe's untimely death cannot be mea- sured, nevertheless, England of that day was spared the infamy of his execution. However, the zealots of those days found a subject, in Francis Kett, a fellow of Marlowe 's college, who was burnt in Nor- wich in 1589 for heresy. Unlike Mar- lowe, he was a pious. God-fearing man Avho fell a victim to the strenuousity with which he maintained his religious convic- AND ROBERT GREENE 79 tions. Another subject was found in the person of Bartholomew Leggett, who was burnt at the stake for stating his confes- sion of faith, which was identical with the religious belief of Thomas Jefferson and President William H. Taft. The times were thirsty for the blood of daring spir- its. The shores of the British Isles were strewn with the wreckage of the great Armada. In Germany, Kepler (he of the three laws) was struggling to save his poor old mother from being burnt at the stake for a witch. In Italy, they burnt Bruno at the stake while Galileo played recanter. That Marlowe was one of the play- makers w^ho felt incensed at the publica- tion of Greene's letter admits of no doubt. He most likely would have resented the public charge of atheism. ^^With neither ^^of them that take offense was I ac- ^'quainted (writes Chettle) and w4th one ^^of them (Marlowe) I care not if I never ^^be." In such blood bespattered times, Chettle could and did write ^^for the first 80 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE ^^ (Marlowe) whose learning I reverence, '^and at the perusing of Greene's book '^(letter) struck out what in conscience I ^ thought he in some displeasure writ, or ^'had it been true yet to publish it was ^intolerable." Chettle's conscience must have been a little seared, for he omitted to strike out the only statement of fact contained in the letter, which could have imperiled the life of Marlowe ! The letter evidences the fact that all of that portion referring to Marlowe w^as not garbled, and that there was not any intolerable something struck out, but instead, as transcriber for the pirate publisher, he retained the fuhninatino: passage, ^^had ^^said in his heart there is no God." .Not- withstanding Chettle's statement, we are of the opinion that the passage about Marlowe was printed in its integrity. Chettle's having failed to omit the charge of diabolical atheism, reveals the strong personal antipathy he had for Marlowe. Few^ there are who set up Mar- lowe as claimant for Chettle's apology, AND ROBERT GREENE 81 and fewer still, who would not regard him worthy of the compliment, '^factitious ''grace in writing," and whose acquaint- ance Chettle did not seek, but whose fas- cinating personality and exquisite feeling for poetry was the admiration of Dray- ton and Chapman, wdio were among the noblest, as well as the best loved, of their time. George Chapman was among the few men whom Ben Jonson said he loved. Anthony Wood described him as " a per- "son of most reverend aspect, religious "and tem^perate qualities." Chapman sought conference with the soul of Mar- lowe: "Of his free soul whose living subject stood "Up to the chin in the Pierian flood." Henry Chettle 's act of placation is of- fered to one of two of the three play- makers addressed, and not to the actor referred to, who was not one of those ad- dressed; therefore, "upstart crow" could not have been the recipient of Chettle 's 82 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE apology, or placation, in whose behalf (^'upstart crow") Chettle retracts noth- ing. The following reference is to one of the offended playmakers pointed at in Greene's address, whom Chettle wishes to placate, ^'The other whonie at that time ^^I did not so mnch spare as since I wish '^I had— that I did not I am as sorry as "if the original fault had been my fault '^because myself have seen his demeanor '^no less civil excellent in the qualities he ^'professes; besides, divers of worship ^'have reported his uprightness of deal- ^4ng, which argues his honesty and his ^^factitious grace in writing that ap- ^^ proves his art." With the votaries of Shakspere, however, these words of Chet- tle chime with their dreams of fancy ; for there is a pre-inclination and a predeter- mination to read Shakspere into them, as if the words of Greene and Chettle were not accessible to all inquirers— words that can be made to comprehend only one of the two playmakers that take offense, who must be one of the three (Marlowe, AND ROBERT GREENE 83 Nash and Peele) admonished by Greene, and who were of his fellowship. The reader, after studying Elizabethan liter- ature and history, is content to believe that the least celebrated of the three playmakers pointed at in Greene's ad- dress (Marlowe, Nash and Peele), stood high enough in the scale of literary merit in 1592 to be the recipient of Chettle's praise. , The word ^'qualit}^," in ^^ excellent in ^^the quality he professes," is by the fan- tastically inclined, made to jdeld a con- venient connotation, but in the ordinary and contextural meaning of the word, may embrace all that makes or helps to make any person such as he is. Are these words of Chettle written in 1592 when the theatre was lying under a social ban, and the actor was still a social outcast, identi- fiable with a vagabond at law, or with Thomas Nash, who took his bachelor's degree at Cambridge in 1585? ^^In the ^^ autumn of 1592, Nash was the guest of '^Archbishop Whitgift at Crogdon, 84 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE '' whither the household had retired for ^'fear of the plague, and, as the official ^ ^ antagonist of Martin Marprelate was ^^constrained to keep up such a character ^^as w^ould enable divers of worship to re- '^port his uprightness of dealing," he cer- tainly was entitled to commendation for his ^^factitious grace in writing." The appropriation of the complimentary re- marks of Chettle on Nash, or any one of the three playmakers addressed, to Shakspere, who was not one of those ad- dressed, and therefore, could not have been the recipient of Chettle 's apology, so called, is one of the fancies in wdiich critics of the highest reputation have in- dulged. There is nothing equal to this in all the annals of literature, unless it be ^'Cicero's famous letter to Lucretius, in ''which he asks the historian to lie a little ''in his favor in recording the events of "his consulship, for the sake of making "him a greater man." Chettle lost no time in transcribing the posthumous letter. Doubts as to "Groats AND ROBERT GREENE 85 "Wovth of Wit" were entertained at the time of publication. Some suspected Nash to have had a hand in the author- ship, otliers accused Chettle. Nash did take offense at the report that it was his. Its publication caused much excitement and the rumor went abroad that the pam- phlet was a forgery. ^' Other news I am ^^ advised of," writes Nash, in an epistle prefixed to the second edition of ^^Pierce- ^^ penniless/' ^Hhat a scald, trivial, lyin,^ '^ pamphlet called ^Greene's Groats Worth '^^of Wit' is given out to be of m}^ doing. ^'God never have care of my soul, but ut- ^^terly renounce me, if the least w^ord or ^^ syllable in it proceeded from my pen, or if I were any way privy to the writing ^^or printing of it." We regard these words confirmatory of the fact that '^Groats Worth of Wit" is not a work of unquestioned authenticity, and, further- more, that Nash did not believe it the Avork of Robert Greene. Prima facie, it is spurious, for Nash spoke in high praise of Greene's writings. He neither would. i i 86 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE nor could, have used the words '^ scald, tri- ^Sial, hdng" of a genuine work of Robert Greene, whose writings w^ere held in high favor by all classes. Nash could not have taken offense at the allusion of Greene, which was rather complimental, though personal, and not intended for publica- tion; but it did, however, contain some slight mixture of censure,— ^^ Sweet boy, ^^ might I advise thee, get not many eni- ^^mies by bitter words. Blame not schol- '^ars vexed with sharp lines if they re- ^^prove thy too much liberty of reproof." Nash was very angry, but only because Greene 's letter was given to the public by Chettle, who felt constrained to placate 'Hhat byting satyrist," whose railler}^ he had reason to fear, by bearing witness to ^^his civil demeanor and factitious grace ' ' in writing. ' ' Votaries of Shakspere may take their choice of one of the three addressed. Which one shall be named? What mat- ter it to them, with Shakspere barred, whether Nash, Peele or Marlowe be I AND ROBERT GREENE 87 named, the least of whom was worthy of Chettle 's commendation ? There is not a crumb of evidence ad- duced for Shakspere as a putative author of plays until 1598, and then only in the variable and shadowy Elizabethan title page. Chettle term.s. Greene "the only ^^ comedian of a vulgar w^riter," meaning he was a writer in the vernacular tongue or common language, a fact which proves Shakspere 's nihility as playmaker in 1592. Nov/ the fact of the matter is that this ^^ lying pamphlet," so called by Nash, was not authored by Greene. It should be called, ^^ Chettle 's Groats Worth of ^^Wit," for the pamphlet proper is from his pen or some other hack writer's. The letter alone was authored by Greene, ad- dressed as a private letter to three fellow poets, and surreptitiously procured for Chettle and transcribed by him. Chettle writes,/^! had only in the copy this '^ share— it was ill written— licensed it ^'must be, ere it could be printed, which ^^ could never be if it might not be read. WILLIAM SHAKSPERE ^ ^ To be brief I writ it over and as nearlj^ ^ ^ as I could follow the copy. Only, in that ^ better I put something out, but in the ^^ whole book, not a word in, for I protest '4t was all Greene's, not mine, nor Mag- ^^ter Nash's, as some unjustly have af- '' firmed." The letter and pamphlet both in Greene's handwriting would have been the best possible evidence of the genuine- ness of its contents and legibility. Chet- tle's not offering in evidence the original letter is strong presumptive proof of the commission of a forgery. He, if not the chief actor in the offense, was an acces- sory after the fact, and should, in his ap- peal to the public in defense of his repu- tation, have brought forward the pam- phlet itself, embracing the whole matter, for examination and comparison; for we feel satisfied that such an examination would prove that the celebrated letter was authored and in the handwriting of Robert Greene, and not so ill written that it could not be read by the printers, who AND ROBERT GREENE 89 must have been familiar with the hand- writing of the largest contributor of the prose literature of his day. For our- selves, what we have adduced convinces us that the tract, '^Groats Worth of Wit," was authored and written by one of Philip Henslowe's hacks, presumedly, Henry Chettle, a literary dead beat, and an indigent of many imprisonments, who was always importuning the old play- broker for money. Since the tract, ^^ Groats Worth of Wit," was in Chettle 's own handwriting, he strove to fool the jDrinters by transcribing Greene's letter and binding both together, through that ^^ disguised hood" to fool the public. Abraham Lincoln is reputed to have said, ^^ You may fool all the people som.e of the '^time, and some of the people all the ^^time, but you cannot fool all the people ^^all of the time." It is possible that Chettle may have fooled some of the peo- ple of his own generation some of the time, but in later times, through the mis- apprehension of his quoted words, he has 90 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE fooled the Sliaksperolators all of the time. Chettle, however, would not permit the letter to come forward in its integrity and speak for itself, disclosing the nature of the intolerable something . ^'stroke ''out," which piques our curiosity, but not in anticipation of any of those inde- cencies that taint the writings of Ben Jonson and the work of many writers of that age, not excepting Shakespeare, who is also amenable in no slight degree to the charge of the same coarseness of taste w^hich excites repulsion in the feelings of Leo Tolstoy. The fact of the whole matter appears to be that Henry Chettle, wishing to profit financially b}^ the great commercial value of Robert Greene's name, w^as ac- cessory to the embezzlement and the com- mission of a forgery, and was the silent beneficiary of the fraud. The mutual connection of hack writer and pirate pub- lisher is so obvious that a jury of discern- ing students, with the exhibits, presented together with the presumptive proofs and AND ROBERT GREENE 91 inferential evidence contextured in both letter and preface, should easily confirm our opinion of the incredibleness of Chet- tle's statements contained in the preface to '^Kind Hearts Dreams." The evidence of their falsity is, prima-facie^ destitute of credible attestations. We are made to see, in our survey of the age of Elizabeth, much that is in striking contrast with the spirit and ac- tivities of our time. There is a notable contrast between the public play house of those days, where no respectable woman ever appeared, and with the theatre of our day— the rival of the church as a moral force. In the elder time ''the per- ''manent and persistent dishonor at- ''tached to the stage," and the stigma attached to the poets who wrote for the public playhouse, attached in like man- ner to the regular frequenters of public theatres, the majority of whom could neither read nor write, but belonged chiefl}^ to the vicious and idle class of the population. At all the theatres, accord- 92 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE ing to Malone, it appears that noise and show were what chiefl}^ attracted an au- dience in spite of the reputed author. There was clamor for a stage reeking Avith blood and anything ministering to their unchaste appetites. The spectacu- lar actor and clown was relatively ad- vantaged, as he could say much more than was set down for him. Kemp's ex- temporizing powers of histrionic buffoon- ery, gagging, and grimacing, paid the running expenses of the playhouse. '^It must be borne in mind that actors ^Hhen occupied an inferior position in ^^ society, and that in many quarters even "the vocation of a dramatic writer was '^considered scarcely respectable." Ben Jonson's letter to the Earl of Salisbury, lets us see very clearly that he regarded playwriting as a degradation. We tran- scribe it in part as follows : ^^I am here, my honored Lord, unex- ^^amined and unheard, committed to a ^^vile prison and with m.e a gentleman *^ (whose name may perhaps have come r AND ROBERT GREENE 93 ^Ho your Lordship), one Mr. George ^^ Chapman, a learned and honest man. ^^The cause (would I could name some ^^ worthier though I wish we had known ^^none worthy our imprisonment) (is ^^the words irk-me that our fortune '^hath necessitated us to so despise a ^^ course) a play, my Lord—." We see how keenly Jonson felt the dis- grace, not on account of the charge of re- flecting on some one in a play in which they had federated, for he protested his own and Chapman's innocence, but he felt that their degradation lay chiefly in writing stage poetry, for drama-making was regarded as a degrading kind of em- ployment, which poets accepted who were struggling for the meanest necessities of life, and were driven by poverty to their production, and to the slave-driving play- brokers, manv of whom became verv rich by making the flesh and blood of poor play-writers their maw. In looking into Philip Henslowe's old note-book, we see how the grasping play- 94 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE brokers of the olden time speculated on the poor play-writers necessities, when plays were not regarded as literature; when the most strenuous and laborious of dramatic writers for the theatre could not hope to gain a competence by the pen alone, but wrote only for bread; when play-writers were in tne employ of the shareholding actors, as hired men; and when their employers, the actors, were social outcasts who, in order to escape the penalty for the infraction of the law against vagabondage, were nominally re- tained by some nobleman. In further proof of the degradation which was at- tached to the production of dramatic composition, '^when Sir Thomas Bodley, ^^ about the year 1600, extended and re- '^ modeled the old university library and ^'gave it his name, he declared that no ^^such riff-raff as play-books should ever ^^find admittance to it." ^^When Ben ^^Jonson treated his plays as literature '^by publishing them in 1616 as his works, ^^he was ridiculed for his pretentions, AND ROBERT GREENE 95 ^^ while Webster's care in the printing of ^'his plays laid himself open to the charge ^^of pedantry." V What Lord Rosebery says of Napoleon is equally true of the author of ''Ham- "le.V^ and ^VKing Lear/' ^^ Mankind will ^'always delight to scrutinize something 'Hhat indefinitely raises its conception of ^4ts own powers and possibilities, and ^Svill seek, though eternally in vain, to ^'penetrate the secrets of this prodigious 'intellect/' and it is to Stratford-on- Avon that many turn for the final glimpse of what Swinburne calls "the most tran- ^^scendent intelligence that ever illumi- ''nated humanity." William Shakspere, the third child and eldest son (probably), of John Shakspere, is supposed to have been born at a place on the chief highway or road leading from London to Ireland, where the road crosses the river Avon. This crossing was called Street-ford or Stratford. This, at any rate, was the place of his baptism in 1564, as is evi- denced by the parish register. The next AND ROBERT GREENE 97 proven fact is that of Ms marriage in 1582, when he was little more than eigh- teen years old. Before this event nothing is known in regard to him. John Shakspere, the father apparently of William Shakspere, is first discovered and described as a resident of Henley Street, where onr first glimpse is had of him in April, 1552. In that year he was fined the sum of twelve pence for a breach of the municipal sanitary regulations. Nothing is known in regard to the place of his birth and nurture, nor in regard to his ancestry. The evidence is, prima- facie^ that the Shaksperes were of the parvenu class. John Shakspere seems to have been a chapman, trading in farmer's produce. In 1557 he married Mary Ar- den, the seventh and youngest daughter of Robert Arden, who had left to her fifty-three acres and a house, called ^^Ashbies" at Wilmecote. He had also left to her other land at Wilmecote, and an interest in two houses at Smitterfield. 98 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE This step gave John Shakspere a repu- tation among his neighbors of having married an heiress, and lie was not slow to take advantage of it. His official career commenced at once by his election in 1557, as one of the ale-tasters, to see to the quality of bread and ale ; and again in 1568 he was made high bailiff of Strat- ford. John Shakspere was the only mem- ber of the Shakspere family who was honored with civic preferment and confi- dence, serving the corporation for the ninth time in several functions. How- ever, the time of his declination was at hand, for in the autumn of 1578 the wife's property at Ashbies was mort- gaged for forty pounds. The money sub- sequently tendered in repayment of the loan was refused until other sums due to the same creditor were repaid. John Shakspere was deprived of his alderman- ship September 6, 1580, because he did not come to the hall when notified. On March 29, he produced a writ of habeas corpus, which shows he had been in AND ROBERT GREENE 99 prison for debt. Notwithstanding his in- ability to read and write, he liad more or less capacity for official business, but so managed his private affairs as to wreck his own and his wife's fortune. At the tim.e of the habeas corpus mat- ter William Shakspere was thirteen years old. ^^In all probability/' says his biographer, "the lad was removed from ^^ school, his father requiring his assist- ^^ance." There was a grammar school in Stratford which was reconstructed on a medieval foundation by Edward VI, though the first English grammar was not published until 1586. This w^as after Shakespere had finished his education. '^No Stratford record nor Stratford tra- ^^dition says that Shakspere attended the ^'Stratford grammar school." But, had the waning fortune of his father made it possible, he might have been a student there from his seventh year— the prob- able age of admission— until his improvi- dent marriage-«when little more than eigh- teen and a half years old. However, a 100 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE provincial grammar school is a conven- ient place for the lad about whose activi- ties we know nothing, and whose educa- tion is made to impinge on conjecture and fanciful might-have-been. We are told that Shakspere must have been sent to the free school at Stratford, as his parents and all the relatives were unlearned persons, and there was no other public education available; never- theless, it was the practice of that age to teach the boy no more than his father knew. One thing is certain, that the scholastic awakening in the Shakspere family was of short duration, for it began and ended with William Shakspere. His 3'oungest daughter, Judith, was as illiter- ate as were her grandparents. She could not even write her name, although her father at the time of her school age had become wealthy, and his eldest daughter ^^the little premature Susanna," as De Quincy calls her, could barety scrawl her name, being unable to identify her hus- band's (Dr. Hall) handwriting, which no AND ROBERT GREENE 101 one but an illiterate could mistake. Her contention with the army surgeon, Dr. James Cook, respecting her husband's manuscripts, is proof that William Shakspere was true to his antecedents by conferring illiteracy upon his daughters. The Shakspere of Stratford-on-Avon was not exceptionally liberal and broad minded in the matter of education in con- trast with many of his contemporaries, notably Richard Mulcaster, (1531-1611), who says that "the girl should be as well ^'educated as her brother," while the real author of the immortal plays had also written, ^^ Ignorance is the curse of God," and, ^^ There is no darkness but ignor- ^'ance." It was not the least of John Shaks- pere 's misfortunes that in November, 1582, his eldest son, William, added to his embarrassments, by premature and forced marriage. It is the practice of Shakespere's biographers to pass hur- riedly over this event in the young man's life, for there is nothing commendable in 102 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE liis marital relations. There is expressed in it irregularity of conduct and probable desertion on his part; pressure was brought to bear on the young man by his wife's relations, and he was forced to marry the woman whom he had wronged. Who can believe that their marriage was a happy one, wdien the only written words contained in his will are not words ex- pressive of connubial endearment, such as ' ' dear wife " or ^ ^ sweet wife, ' ' but ' ' my ^^wife?" He had forgotten her, but by an interlineation in the final draft, she received his second best bed with its fur- niture. This was the sole bequest made to her. We are by no means sure of the iden- tity of his wife. We do not know that she and Shakespere ever w^ent through the actual ceremony of marriage, unless her identity is traceable through Anne Wateley, as a regular license was issued for the marriage of William Shaxpere and Anne Wateley of Temple Grafton, November 27, 1583. Richard Hathaway, AND ROBERT GREENE 103 the reputed father of Shakspere's wife, Anne, in his will dated September 1, 1581, bequeathed his property to seven children, his daughters being Catherin, Margaret and Agnes. No Anne was men- tioned. The first published notice of the name of William Shakspere's (supposed) wife appears in Rowe's ^^Life of Shakes- ^^pere" (1709), wherein it is stated that she ^Svas the daughter of one Hathaway '^said to have been a substantial yeoman 'Mn the neighborhood of Stratford." This was all that Betterton, the actor Rowe's informant, could learn at the time of his visit to Stratford-on-Avon. The exact time of this visit is unknown, but it was probably about the year 1690. This lack of knowledge in regard to the Hathaways shows that the locality of Anne Hathaway 's residence, or that of her parents, was not known at Stratford. The house at Shottery, now known as Anne Hathaway 's cottage, and reached from Stratford by fieldpaths, may have been the home of Anne Hathaway, wife 104 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE of William Sliakspere, before his mar- riage, but of this there is no proof. Shakspere was married under the name ^^Shagspere," but the place of mar- riage is unknown^ as his place of resi- dence is not mentioned in the bond. In the registry of the bishop of the diocese (Worcester) is contained a deed wherein Sandells and Richardson, husbandmen of Stratford, bound themselves in the bish- op's consistory court on November 28, 1582, as a surety for forty pounds, to free the bishop of all liability should any law- ful impediment, by reason of any precon- tract, or consanguinity, be subsequently disclosed to imperil the validity of the contemplated marriage of William Shakspere with Anne Hathaway. Pro- vided, that Anne obtained the consent of her friends, the marriage might proceed with at once proclaiming the bans of mat- rimony. The wording of the bond shows that, despite the fact that the bridegroom was a minor by nearly three years, the consent of his parents was neither called AND ROBERT GREENE 105 for, nor obtained, though necessary ''for ''strictly regular procedure." Sandells and Richardson, representing the lady's family, ignored the bridegroom's family completely. In having secured the deed, they forced Shakspere to marry their friend's daughter in order to save her reputation. Soon afterwards— within six m^onths— a daughter was born. More- over, the whole circumstances of the case render it highly probable that Shakspere had no thought of marriage, for the wan- ing fortune of his father had made him acquainted with the "cares of bread." He was a penniless youth, not yet of age, having neither trade, nor means of liveli- hood, and was forced by her friends into marrying her— a w^oman eight years older than himself. In 1585 she pre- sented him with twins. When he left Stratford for London we do not know positively, but the advent of the twins is the approximate date of the j^outh's Hegira. He lived apart from his wife for more than tw^enty-five years. 106 WILLIAM SHAKSiPERE The breath of slander never touched the good name of Anne (or Agnes), the neg- lected wife of William Shakspere. There is prima-facie evidence that the play- broker's wife fared in his absence no bet- ter than his father and mother, who, dy- ing intestate in 1601 and 1608, respec- tively, were buried somewhere by the Stratford church, but there is no trace of any sepulchral monument, or memorial. If anything of the kind had been set up by their wealthy son, William Shakspere, it would certainly have been found by someone. The only contemporary men- tion made of the wife of Shakspere, be- tween her marriage in 1582 and her hus- band's death in 1616, was as the borrow^er, at an unascertained date, of forty shil- lings from Thomas Whittington, who had formerly been her father's shepherd. The money was unpaid when Whittington died in 1601, and his executor was di- rected to recover the sum from Shakspere and distribute it among the poor of Strat- ford. There is disclosed in this pecuniary AND ROBERT GREENE 107 transaction, coupled with the slight men- tion of her in the will and the barring of her dower, prima facie evidence of Wil- liam Shakspere's indifference to, and neglect of, if not dislike for, his wife. All this is in striking contrast with the con- duct of Sir Thomas Lucy, whom the biog- raphers of Shakespere have attempted to disparage, and whose endearment for his wife is so feelingly expressed in his will. And, in contrast also, is the conduct of Edward Alleyn, famous as an actor, and as the founder of Dulwich College, who lived with his wife in London, and called her ^^ sweet mouse." The tangibility of this Shakspere of Stratford-on-Avon is very much in evi- dence along pecuniary lines, especially as money lender, land-owner, speculator and litigant. In 1597 he bought New Place in Stratford for sixty pounds ; also men- tioned as a holder of grain at Stratford X quarters. The following entry is in Chamberlain's accounts at Stratford in 1598: '^Paid to Mr. Shaxpere for one 108 WILLIAM SHAKSPLRE ^4ode of stone xd;" in the same year Ricliard Quiney Avrote to William Sliakspere for a loan of thirty or forty pounds; in 1599 William Sliakspere was taken into the new Globe Theatre Com- pany as partner; in 1602 Shakspere bought one hundred seven acres of arable land at Stratford for three hundred two pounds (in his absence the conveyance was given over to his brother, Gilbert) ; in the same year he bought a house with barns, orchards, and gardens, from Her- cules Underhill for sixty pounds; also a cottage close to his house, New Place ; in 1605 Shakspere bought the thirty-two- year lease of half Stratford tithes for four hundred forty pounds; in 1613 Shakspere bought a house near Black- friars' Theatre for one hundred and forty pounds, and mortgaged it next day for sixty pounds ; in 1612 Shakspere is men- tioned in a law suit brought before Lord Ellsimore about Stratford tithes ; in 1611 Hamnet, his onlv son, died at Stratford at the age of eleven and half years. The AND ROBERT GREENE 109 father, however, set up no stone to tell where the bo)^ lay. In the autumn of the year 1614 Shaks- 13ere became implicated wdth the land- owners, William Combe and Arthur Man nering, in the conspiracy to enclose the common field in the vicinity of Stratford. The success of this rapacious scheme would have advantaged Shakspere in his freehold interest, but might have affected adversely his interest in the tithes, so he secured himself against all possible loss by obtaining from Riplingham, Combe's agent, in October^ 1614, a deed of indem- nification ; then, in the spirit of his agree- ment, he acted in unison with the tw^o greedy land-sharks to rob the poor people of their ancient rights of pasturage. The unholy coalition caused great excitement. The humble citizens of Stratford were thoroughly aroused, and the town corpor- ation put up a sharp and vigorous oppo- sition to the scheme, for enclosure would have caused decay of tillage, idleness, penury, depopulation, and the subversion no WILLIAM SHAKSPERE of homes. Happily, the three greedy cor- morants Combe, Mannering and Shaks- pere failed in their efforts and the com- mon field was unenclosed. Shakspere is thought to have been penurious for his litigious strivings point in that direction, but this feature of his character was not disclosed in 1596 and 1599, when he sought to have his family enrolled among the gentry, as shown by his extravagance in bribing the officers of the Herald College to issue a grant of arms to his father, "a transaction which ^ involved," says Dr. Farmer, ^^the false- ^^hood and venality of the father, the son ^^and two kings-at-arms, and did not es- ^^cape protest, for if ever a coat was cut '^from whole cloth we may be sure that ^Hhis coat-of-arms was the one." Shaks- pere him^self was not in a position to apply for a coat-of-arms— ^^a player stood ^'far too low in the social scale for the '' cognizance of heraldry." Nevertheless, recent writers on the subject of Shake- speare stamp this bogus coat-of-arms on AND ROBERT GREENE 111 the covers of their books. We know that the Shaksperes did not belong to the Armigerous part of the population, and that they stood somewhat lower in the social scale than either the Halls or Quineys, who bore marital relations with them. Shakspere's son-in-law, John Hall, was a master of arts and an eminent phy- sician. He was summoned more than once to attend the Earl and Countess of Northampton at Ludlow Castle. He was of the French Court School, and was opposed to the indiscriminate process of bleeding. On June 5, 1607, Dr. Hall was married at Stratford-on-Avon to Shak- spere's eldest daughter, Susanna. Strat- ford then contained about fifteen hun- dred inhabitants. One hundred sixty-two 3^ears later, Garrick gave his unsavory description of Stratford-on-Avon as ^'tlie '^ most dirty, unseemly, ill-paved, wretch- ^^ed-looking town in all Britain." Cot- tages of that day in Stratford consisted of mud walls and thatched roofs. '^At 112 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE ^Hliis period and for many generations ^^ afterwards the sanitary conditions of '^tlie thoroughfares of Stratford-on-Avon ^^were simply terrible." On February 10, 1616, Thomas Quiney, a vintner, and also an accomplished scholar and penman, was married at Stratford church to Judith, Shakspere's younger daughter, who could neither read nor write. The marriage ceremony took place without a license or proclaiming the bans. For this breach of ecclesiastical procedure both the parties were sum- m^oned to the court at Worcester and threatened with excommunication. When the fortune hunter goes forth to woe, and is determined to win, he is content to wade through reeking refuse and muck- heaps to marry a rich heiress and does not much care if her histrionic father by XXXIX Elizabeth were a vagabond. If ^' there is a soul of truth in things ^'erroneous," so there ma}^ be a soul of truth in the creditableness of the Shak- spere traditions, for in them are revealed AND ROBERT GREENE 113 the environment in which they had their genesis, and the character of the inventor or fabricator. All of the traditions are comparatively recent or modern, and were made current by people who were, with few exceptions, coarse and densely ignorant. These apocryphal accounts serve to show also how little educated people knew, or cared, about writing with literary or historical accuracy when Shakspere was the subject. Unfortu- nately all of the traditions about Shak- spere are of a degrading character. The poaching escapade of his having robbed a park is one of the invented stories of fancy-mongers. There is very little likelihood that the young husband, with a wife and three babies to support, would voluntarily place himself in a posi- tion where he would have to flee from Sir Thomas Lucy's prosecution; thereby degrading the lowermost rank of life by bringing disgrace upon himself, his wife and children, while his parents in strait- ened circumstances were struggling to 114 • WILLIAM SHAKSPERE keep the wolf from the door. The records show that Sir Thomas Lucy had no park either at Charlecote or Pulbroke, still the Lucys of a later day were not anxious to lose the honor of having spanked Shak- spere for poaching on the ancestral pre- serves. England was called in those clays ^^The ^^ toper's paradise," and tradition informs us that Shakspere was one of the Bedford topers. However, we should not infer from this that William Shakspere, a firm man of business, was at any time a drunken sot. The onty story recorded during Shakspere 's life is contained in John Manningham's note-book. It savors strongly of the tavern, the diarist crimi- nating Shakspere 's morals. This entry was made on March 13, 1601, the refer- ence being to player Shakspere. No wonder that such eminent votaries of Shakspere as Stevens, Hallam, Dyce and Emerson are disappointed and per- plexed, for, while the record concerning the life of the player, money-lender, land- AND ROBERT GREENE 115 owner, play-broker, speculator and liti- gant are ample, they disclose nothing of a literary character ; but the pecuniary litigation evidence, growing out of Shak- spere's devotion to money-getting in Lon- don and Stratford, does unfold his true life and character. The records do not furnish -a single instance of friendship, kindness or generosity, but upon the de- linquent borrow^er of money he rigidly evoked the law, which gave a generous advantage to the creditor, and its vile prison to the debtor. In 1600 Shakspere brought action against John Clayton for seven pounds and got judgment in his favor. He sued Philip Rogers, a neighbor in Stratford Court, for one pound, fifteen shillings and six pence due for malt sold, and two shillings loaned. In August, 1608, Shak- spere prosecuted John Addenbroke to re- cover a debt of six pounds. He prose- cuted this last suit for a couple of years until he got' the defendant into prison. The prisoner was bailed out by Horneby. 116 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE Addenbroke, running away, escaped from the clutches of his tormentor, who then bore down on his security, Horneby. ^^The pursuit of an impoverished man '^for the sake of imprisoning him, and ^'depriving him both of the power of pay- ^'ing his debts and supporting his family, ^^ grate upon our feelings," says Richard Grant White, ^^and," adds this eminent Shakspearean, ^^ we hunger and we receive 'Hhese husks, w^e open our mouths for '^food and we break our teeth against 'Hhese stones." We may be sure that there was left in the impoverished home of John Addenbroke little more palatable than husks and stones, when the father fled to escape from the clutches of his in- sistent creditor, William Shakspere of Stratford. The paltry suits he brought to recover debts do not tend to disclose this Shak- spere 's '^ radiant temperament," or fit him to receive the adjective, ^'gentle, except in contumely for his claim to gentility. It is not known that Shakspere jj AND ROBERT GREENE 117 ever gave liospitality to the necessities of the poor of his native shire, for whom, it appears, there beat no pulse of tender- ness. A man of scanty sensibilities he mnst have been. The poor working peo- ple of Stratford, we may be sure, shed no tear at this Shakspere's departure from the world. We do not envy the man, who can re- gard these harsh pecuniary practices in this Shakspere, as commendable traits of his worldly wisdom, for he was shrewd in monej^ matters, and could have in- vested his mone}^ in London and Strat- ford so as not to have brought sorrow and distress upon his poor neighbors. These matters are small in themselves, but they suggest a good deal, for the}^ bear witness to sorrow-stricken mothers, hungry children and fathers in loathsome prisons, powerless to provide food, warmth and light for the home. The diary, or note-book, of Philip Henslowe, the theatrical manager and play-broker, shows that Henslowe was himself a very 118 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE penurious and grasping man, who, taking advantage of starving play-makers' neces- sities, became very wealthy. William Shakspere. of Stratford-on-Avon, as a theatrical manager, became rich also, but his note-book has not been preserved, so nothing is known of his business methods in dealing with the poor play-makers ; but the literary antiquarians, by ramsacking corporations' records and other public archives, have proven that Shakspere was very much such a man as the old pawnbroker and play-broker, Philip Henslowe, of a rival house. The biographers should record these facts, and not strive to shun them, for the literary antiquaries have unearthed and brought them forward, and they tell the true story of Shakspere 's life, though we do not linger lovingly over them, for, like Hallam, ^'we as little feel the power of ^identifying the young man who came up ^'from Stratford, was afterward an in- ^^ different plaj^er in a London theatre, V^and retired to his native place in middle AND ROBERT GREENE 119 ^^life, with the author of ^Macbeth' and " ^Lear/ " for the Stratford records are as barren of literarj^ matter as the lodg- ings in Silver street, London. Not a crumb for the literary biographer in either place! Professor Wallace has added another non-literary document in the matter of Shakspere's deposition in the case of Bel- lot vs. Mount joy, which he discovered in the public record office, but it in no way contributes to a literary biography. The truth is that, with all their industry, the antiquarians have in this regard not brought to light a single proven fact to sustain the claim that this Sliakespere was either the author of poems or plays. This bit of new knowledge gives us a glimpse of this William Shakspere as an evasive witness, having a conveniently short memory. These depositions dis- close his intermediation in the matter of making two hearts happy, but not the faintest glimpse of the author of poems or plays. When the claim of authorship 120 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE is challenged, new particulars of the life of Shakspere, such as this and others that have been unearthed by antiquarians, whether in the public record office or cor- poration archives, are alike worthless so far as establishing the poet Shakspere's identity. They fail to confirm the iden- tity of the actor Shakspere with the author of the plays and poems that are associated with his name. There are no family traditions, no books, manuscripts, or letters, addressed to him, or by him, to poet, peer or peasant. The credible evidence supplied by contemporaneous, or antiquarian, research do not identify the player and landowner with the author of ^^ Hamlet," ^^Lear" and ^^ Othello." Our belief in the pseudonymity of the author of the poems and plays, called Shakespeare, is strengthened hy the ab- sence of verse commemorative of concur- rent events, such as the strivings of his boldest countrymen in the great Eliza- bethan age. There is, from his pen, neither word of cheer, nor sympathy, with AND ROBERT GREENE 121 the daring and suffering warriors and ad- A^enturers of that time, although his con- temporaries versified eulogies to the heroes of those days for their stirring deeds. There is, in the poems and plays, no elegiac lay in memory of Elizabeth, ^Hhe glorious daughter of the illustrious ^^ Henry," as Robert Greene calls her, nor is there one line of mourning verse at the death of Prince Henry, the noblest among the children of the kins', by a writer who was always a strenuous and consistent supporter of prerogative against the con- ception of freedom. This is another evi- dence of the secrecy maintained as to the authorship of the poems and plays. We cannot discover a single laudatory poem or commendatory verse, or a line of praise of any publication, or writer of his time. All this is in contrast with his contem- poraries, whose personalities are identifi- able with their literary work, and, so liberal of commendation were they, that they literally showered commendatory verses on literary works of merit, or those 122 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE thought to have merit. Of these, thirty- five were bestowed on Fletcher, a score or more on Beaumont, Chapman and Ford, while Massinger received nineteen. Ben Jonson's published works contain thirty-seven pieces of commendation. His Roman tragedy, '^Sejanus," was acclaim- ed by ten contemporary poets. In praise of his comedy, '^Volpone," There are seven poems. The versified compliments bestowed on him by his fellow craftsmen embrace many of the most celebrated names antecedent to his death, which oc- curred in 1637. Early in 1638 a collection of some thirty elegies were published un- der the title of ^^Jonsonus Virbius," or ^^The Memory of Ben Jonson," in which nearly all the leading poets of the day, except Milton, took part. It must appear strange to the votaries of Shakspere that Jonson should have re- ceived so many crowns of mourning verse, while for Shakspere of Stratford- on-Avon, the reputed author of ^^ Ham- let," ^^Lear" and ^^ Macbeth," there AND ROBERT GREENE 123 wailed no dirge. Not a single commen- datory verse was bestowed by a contem- porary poet antecedent to his death, nor was a single elegaic poem written of him in the year of his death, 1616. Already in that fatal year there had been mourn- ing for Francis Beaumont, who received immediate posthumous honors by many poets, in memorial odes, sighing forth the requiem to his name in mournful elegy. Eight and forty days after the death of Francis Beaumont, all that was mortal of William Shakspere of Stratford-on-Avon was buried in the chancel of his parish church, in which, as part owner of the tithes and consequently one of the lay rectors, he had the right of interment. Over the spot where his body was laid, there was placed a slab with the inscrip- tion imprecating a curse on the man who should disturb his bones, ^^Good friend, for Jesus sake forbeare ^'To digg the dust enclosed here '^ Bless be ye man yt spares this stown ^^And curst be he yt moves my bones." 124 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE This rude, absurd and ignorant epitaph has given much trouble to writers on the subject of Shakespeare. The usual ex- planation of the threat is given that the Puritans thought that the church had been profaned by the ashes of an actor. These ignorant words could not have been written as a deterrent to the Puri- tans, for they did not belong to the ignorant section of the population, but to the middle class, nor would they have been deterred from invading Shakspere's tomb by the superstitious fear of a threat contained in doggerel verse cut on the tomb. There was not the least danger that the actor's grave would be violated by the Puritans, for Dr. John Hall, Shak- spere's son-in-law, was a Puritan. If he had had this warning epitaph cut on the tomb it would have been written in scholarly English. The doggerel lines, rude as they are, satisfied, doubtless, the widow and daughters, themselves ignor- ant. The most pleasing epitaph, it seems to us, would have been one expressing a AND ROBERT GREENE 125 known wish of their ^^dear departed" in words, when read by otliers, that would best suit their understandings, for tlie Shal^spere family were uncultured. They could not read the stu]3id epitaph on his tomb, and so their hearts were not sad- dened as they gazed upon an inscription of barbaric rudeness. Some slight circumstance may have given rise to William Hall's conjecture, during his visit to Stratford, in 1694, that Shakspere authored his own epitaph, and that these lines were written to suit the capacity of clerks and sextons, who, ac- cording to Hall, in course of time w^ould have removed Shakspere 's dust to the bone house. This is not improbable from the point of view taken by those who be- lieve that Shakspere of Stratford wrote the doggerel epigram on John Combe, money lender, and the vituperative ballad abusing the gentleman whose park he (Shakspere) robbed, for the three com- positions are of the same grade of ignorant nonsense. But we do know that 126 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE had the author of ^^ Hamlet" written his own epitaph, it would have been as death- less as the one over the Countess of Pem- broke : ^'Underneath this sable hearst ''Lies the subject of all verse "Sidnej^'s sister— Pembroke's mother "Death, ere thou hast slain another "Learned and fair and good as she "Time shall throw a dart at thee," It should be borne in mind that clerks and sextons were not the only ignorant people in and about Stratford. There were some that had a grievance, or thought they had, which parish clerks and sextons had not. We have reference to the poor debtors, who regarded Shak- spere of Stratford as a grasping usurer, hard upon poor people in his power, so the curse inscribed slab was placed over Shakspere's grave as a shield to protect his ashes from those who would not hesi- tate to invade the tomb of one whose memory had become hateful to them. If in pressing his claim the money lender AND ROBERT GREENE 127 elects to be a tormentor, Ms name will be execrated while living and a hateful memory when dead. One thing is evidenced by the maledic- tory epitaph; that the one who wrote it was afraid the tomb might be violated % the removal of the bones to the charnal honse. Who were they that would most likely invade Shakspere's tomb? Ob- viously those, we repeat, who regarded him as a hard-hearted man, who pressed poor debtors with all the rigor of the law to enforce the payment of petty sums; the man who had shown himself supremely selfish in an attempt to enclose the Strat- ford common field; the man who would be made "a gentleman" by misrepresen- tation, fraud and falsehood. The fore- going facts, and the les^al and municipal evidence bound up in dusty records, a bogus coat-of-arms, and a rude epitaph, tell the true story of the life of William Shakspere of Stratford-on-Avon. There is no record of any pretended living likeness of Shakspere better rep- 128 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE resenting him than the Stratford bust. This bust is erected on the north side of the chancel of Holy Trinity Church at Stratford-on-Avon. On the floor of the chancel in front of the monument are the graves of Shakspere and his family. We have no means of ascertaining when the monument and bust were erected. The first folio edition of his reputed works was published in 1623. It contained words from Leonard Diggs prefatory lines ^^and time dissolves thy Stratford moniment," monument being used inter- changeably with tomb; but these words do not prove that the bust was set up be- fore 1623. His image was rudely cut, sensual and clownish in aDpearance. There is not a tittle of evidence adduced to show that a knowledge of Shakspere 's putative authorship of poems and plays was current at Stratford when the first folio edition of his reputed works was published in 1623. The records attest that Shakspere 's fame reputatively as writer is posterior to this event. How AND ROBERT GREENE 129 strange it must seem to those who claim for Shakspere an established reputation as poet and dramatist of repute anterior to the first folio edition in 1623, that Dr. Hall, himself an author and most ad- vantaged of all the heirs by Shakspere 's death, should fail to mention his father- in-law in his ^^ cure-book" or observa- tions ! The earliest dated cure is 1617, the year following Shakspere 's death, but there are undated ones. In ' ' Obs. XIX. ' ' Hall mentions without date an illness of his wife, Mrs. Hall; and we find him making a note long afterwards in refer- ence to his only daughter, Elizabeth, who was saved by her father's skill and patience. ^^Thus was she delivered from. ^^ death and deadly diseases and was well ^^for many years." The illness of Dray- ton is recorded without date in ^^Obs. XXII.," with its wee bit of a literary biography, and he is referred to as ^'Mr. Drayton, an excellent poet." Had Shak- spere received a like mention as a poet or writer bv one who knew him so intimately, 130 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE what a delicious morsel it would have been to all those who have followed the literary antiquarian through the dreary barren waste of Shakespearean research. We have found nothing but husks, and these, eulogists of Shakespeare— Hallam, Stevens and Emerson— refused to crunch! For nearly three centuries the Stratford archives have contained all matters con- cerning Shakspere's life and character, and have given us full knowledge of the man; nothing has been lost; but of his alleged literary life, there is not a crumb, no family traditions, no books, no manu- scripts, no letters, no commendatory verses, plays, masques or anthology. The biographers of Shakespeare have none of the material out of which poets and dramatists are made, but only those facts which are congruous with money lenders, land speculators, play-brokers and actors; also, a good assortment of apocryphal stores and gossipy yarns which have become traditional currency. According to Mark Twain there is some- AND ROBERT GREENE 131 thing more. He says, ^^When we find a ^S^agne file of chipmunk tracks stringing ^^ through the dust of Stratford village ^^we know that Hercules has been ^^ along." Again he proceeds, '^The bust, ^^too, there in the Stratford church, the ^ ^precious bust, the calm bust with a dandy ''mustache, and the putty face unseamed ''with care— that face which has looked "passionlessly down upon the awed pil- ''grim for a hundred and fifty years, and ''will look down upon the awed pilgrim "three hundred more with the deep, deep, "deep, subtle, subtle, subtle expression of "a bladder." Not having found the slightest trace of Shakespeare in 1592 as writer of plays, or as adapter or elaborator of other men's work, his advent into literature must have been at a later date, if at all. In 1593 "Venus and Adonis" appeared in print with a dedication to Lord South- ampton, and signed "William Shake- speare." In 1594 appeared another poem, "Lucrece," also with a dedication to Lord 132 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE Southampton. The poems bore no name of an author on the title page. Here is literary tangibility, but does it establish the identity of their author, or attest the responsibility of the young Stratford man for the poems which were published un- der the name of Shakespeare ? This was the first mention of the now famous name? Was it a pseudonym, or was it the true name of the author of the poem ? The enthusiastic reception of the poems awakens a suspicion when we learn that their popularity was due to a belief in their lasciviency; and that the dedicatee was the rakish Henry^ Worthesley, third Earle of Southampton ; and, furthermore, that the name of the dedicator, '^ Shake- speare," was one of a class of nicknames which in 1593 still retained in some meas- ure that which was derisive in them. In 1487 a student at Oxford changed his own name of ^^Shakespeare" into '^Saun- ders," because he considered it too expres- sive and distinctive of rough manners, and significant of degradation, and as AND ROBERT GREENE 133 such was unwilling to aid in its heredi- tary transmission, when all that is de- risive in the name Shakspere remained fixed and fossilized in the old meaning. In those unlettered times, lascivious per- sons were sometimes branded, so to speak, with the nickname ^^ Shakspere." Pri- marily, the name has no militant signifi- cation. There is no such personal name in any known list of British surnames. They are of the parvenu class without ancestrj^ Mr. Sidney Lee admits that the Earle of Southampton is the only patron of Shakspere that is known to biographical research (p. 126). By what fact, or facts, may we ask, is the authenticity of the Earl's friendship or patronage at- tested? Southampton was the standing patron of all the poets, the stock-dedi- catee of those days. It was the fashion of the times to pester him with dedica- tions by poets grave and gay. They were after those five or six pounds, which cus- tom constrained his Lordship to yield for 134 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE having his name enshrined in poet's lines. All the poets of that age were dependents, and there is, with few exceptions, the same display of pharisaic sycophancy, greediness, and on the part of dedicatee an inordinate desire for adulation. Every student of Elizabethan literature and history should know that the Southamp- ton-Shakspere friendship cannot be traced biographically. The Earl of Southampton was a voluminous corre- spondent, but did not bear witness to his friendship for Shakspere. A scrutinous inspection of Southampton's papers con- tained in the archives of his family, de- scendants and contemporaries, yields nothing in support of the contention that Southampton's friendship, or patronage, is known to biographical research, and it is as attestative as that other apocryphal story preserved by Rowe ^^ which is fast disappearing from Shakespearean bio- graphy." ^' There is one instance so singular in ^4ts munificence that if we had not been AND ROBERT GREENE 135 ^^ assured that the story was handed down ^^by Sir William Davenant, who was ^^ probably very well acquainted with his •^affairs, we should not venture to have ^ inserted that my Lord Southampton at ^^one time gave him (Shakspere) a thous- ^^and pounds, to enable him to go through ^Svith a purchase which he heard he had "si mind to." (Davenant was the man who gave out that he was the natural son of Shakspere). A present of a thousand pounds which equals at least twenty-five thousand dollars to-day! The magnitude of the gift discredits the story neverthe- less, the startled Rowe, is the first to make it current, but does not give his readers the ground for his assurance. Be it what it may, he could hardly satisf}^ the modern reader that this man, a son, who insinuatingly defiles the name and fair fame of his own mother, is a credi- ble witness, or that such a man is "Gi for wolf bait." What purchase did Shaks- pere '\go through with?" Not New Place in 1597, for the purchase money was only 136 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE sixty pounds. Neither could it have been tlie Stratford estate in 1602, for at that time Southampton was a prisoner in the Tower. In fact, the whole sum expended by Shakspere did not amount to a thous- and pounds in all. The truth is, the so- cial Rules of Tudor and Jacobin times did not permit peer and peasant to live on terms of mutual good feeling. Almost all the poets in hope of gain, penned adulatory sonnets in praise of Lord Southampton. In those times they had a summary way of dealing with humble citizens. Jonson, Chapman and Marston, were imprisoned for having displeased the king by a jest in ^'Eastward Ho,"— ^^A nobleman to vindicate rank brought ^^an action in the star-chamber against a ^^ person, who had orally addressed him '^as 'Goodman Morley.'" The literati of those days found in scholastic learning, neither potency, nor prom- ise, to abrogate class distinctions by giving- a passport to high attainment in literature, poetry and philosophy. AND ROBERT GREENE 137 Ben Jonson says, ' ' The time was when ^^men were had in price for learn- ^4ng, now letters only make men vile. He ^4s upbraidingly called a poet as if it ^'were a contemptible nickname." Mr. Lee tells us, that the state papers and business correspondence of South- ampton were enlivened by references to his literary interest and his sympathy with the birth of English Drama. (P. 316.). ^^ However, Mr. Lee has extracted ^'no reference to Shakspere from the ^' paper." Southampton's zest for the theatre is based on the statement contained in the ^^ Sidney Papers" that he and his friend Lord Rut- land ^^come not to court but pass '^away the time merely in going to plays ^^ every day." When a new library for his old college, St. Johns, w^as in course of construction, Southampton collected books to the value of three hundred and sixty pounds wherewith to furnish it. Southampton's literary tastes and sym- pathy with the drama cannot be drawn 138 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE from his gift to the library, for it con- sisted largely of legends of the saints and mediaeval chronicles. When and where did William Shakspere acknowledge his obligations to the only patron of the player? According to Mr. Lee, who is known to biographical research, not one of the Shakespearean plays was dedi- cated to Southampton. The name '^Shakspere" is conspicuously absent from among the distinguished writers of his day, who in panegyrical speech and song acclaimed Southampton's release from prison in 1602. Francis Meres, a pedantic schoolmas- ter and Divinity student, had his '^Pal- ^4adin Tamia" registered September 7,. 1598, and published shortly after. Meres in his ^^Tamia" writes of the mellifluous and honey-tongued Shakespeare, and his ^' Venus and Adonis," and his ^^Lucrece," and his sugared sonnets to his friends, and enumerates twelve plays— though at the time three only had been published with his name. Like others of his con- AND ROBERT GREENE 139 temporaries, Meres writes tritely of the lioney-tongued, the honey sweet and the sugared. With him, everything written is mellifluent, but he says nothing of the man. In fact, no contemporary left on record any definite impression of Shakes- peare 's personal character. Meres as- serted that Ben Jonson was. one of our best poets for tragedy, when at that time (1598) Jonson had not written a single tragedy, and but one comedy. Before, we transcribe, in part, ^^Wits ^'Treasury" by Francis Meres, we ask the readers' pardon for this abuse of their patience, for Meres merely repeats names of Greek, Latin and modern play-makers. ^^As these tragic poets flourished in ^^ Greece— Aeschylus, Euripides" (in all seventeen are named and these among the Latin, Accius, M. Attilus, Seneca and several others). ^^So these are our best '^for tragedy; the Lord Buckhurst, Dr. ^^Leg of Cambridge, Dr. Eds of Oxford, ^^ Master Edward Ferris— the author of ^Hhe 'Merriour for Magistrates,'— Mar- 140 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE ^4owe, Peele, Watson, Kyd, Shakespeare, ^^ Drayton, Chapman, Decker and Benja- ^^min Jonson. The best poets for com- ^^edy"— (Meres proceeds with his enum- eration, naming sixteen Greeks and ten Latins, twenty-six in all.) '^So the best ^^for comedy amongst us be Edward, Ear] ^'of Oxford; Dr. Lager of Oxford; Mas- ^^ter Rowley; Master Edwards: eloquent ^'and wittie John Lilly; Lodge; Gas- ' ' coyne ; Greene ; Shakespeare ; Thomas ''Nash; Thomas Hey wood; Anthony ''Munday. Our best plotters : Chapman, ''Porter, Wilson, Hathaway and Henrj^ "Chettle." Meres does not seem to have considered it necessary to read before reviewing. Had he done so he would not have placed the name of Lord Buckhurst first in his list, giving primacy to this mediocrist, and the author of "Romeo and Juliet," who- ever he was, ninth in his list of dramatic poets which he considered best among the English for tragedy; nor, would he have named for second place on the list Dr. AND ROBERT GREENE 141 Leg of Cambridge, instead of the author of ^^The Jew of Malta" (Marlowe). What has Dr. Eds of Oxford, whose name stands third in the Meres list, written that he should have been mentioned in the same connection with the author of ''The ''White Devil" (Webster) or the author of that classic "The Conspiracy," and "The Tragedy of Charles Duke of By- "ron" (Chapman)? Why this com- mingling of such insignificant writers as Edward, Earl of Oxford, Lord Buck- hurst, Drs. Lager and Leg, with the giant brotherhood? The fact is, so far as at- testing the responsibility of anybody or anything, the Meres averments are as worthless as "a musty nut." What was said of John Aubury is also true of Fran- cis Meres, "His brain was like a hasty "pudding whose memory and judgment "and fancy were all stirred together." Yet this is the writer that many Shakes- pearean commentators confidently appeal to, in part, and whose testimony, in part, they, with equal unanimity impeach. 142 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE The slight mention of Shakespeare by the ^^ judicious Webster," as Hazlet calls him, comprehends no more than that Shakspere was one of the hack writers of the day: ^^ detraction is the sworn friend ^Ho ignorance." For mine own part I have ever truly cherished ^^my good opin- ion of other men's worthy labours, ^especially of that full and heightened ^ style of Master Chapman, the laboured ^and understanding works of Master ^Jonson, the no less worthy composures ^of the both worthily excellent Master ^Beaumont and Fletcher, and lastly ' (without wrong last to be named) the ^ right happy and copious industry of ^Master Shakespeare, Master Dekker ^and Master Heywood." These words written by the third great- est of English tragic poets are very sig- nificant, for Webster wrote for the thea- tre to which Shakspere, the player and play-broker, belonged ; yet industry is the only distinguishing mark in Shakspere which he must share with Dekker, and AND ROBERT GREENE 143 Heywood, hack writers for the stage. Dekker's many plays attest his copious industry, when we remember that this writer spent three years in prison, and Hey wood's industry cannot be doubted for he claimed to have had a hand and main finger in two hundred twenty plays. Copious industry signifies to the reader the existence of an author not utterly unknown, it is true, but it fails to identify him as the author of the immortal plays. What shall we say then ? Were the works called Shakespeare's but little known? Shakspere's biographers say that they were the talk of the town. If that is true, then the writer who was commended for industry was not regarded by Webster as the author of '^Hamlet," '^Lear," and ^^ Macbeth," for Shakespeare's distinctive characteristics are not individualized from those of Dekker and Heywood, while those of Chapman, Jonson, Beau- mont and Fletcher are. In the last four named is perfect interlacement of per- 144 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE sonalitv with authorship, but not so in Shakespeare. John Webster's judgment of his fellow craftsman w^as just, ''I have ever truly ^^ cherished my good opinion of other ^^ men's worthy labours." Webster never conceals or misrepresents the truth by giving evasive, or equivocating, evidence. He reveals the judicial trait of his char- acter in placing Chapman first among the poets then living, assuming that the name Shakespeare was used by printers and publishers, if not by writers, as an impersonal nam^e, masking the name of a true poet. Sidney, Marlowe and Spencer had then descended to the tomb. George Chapman's name has not re- ceived due prominence in the modern hand-books of English literature, but he was a bright torch and numbered by his own generation, among the greatest of its poets. He, whom Webster calls the ^^ Prince's Sweet Homer" and ^^My ^^ Friend," was not unduly honored by the ^^full and heightened style" which Web- AND ROBERT GREENE 145 ster makes characteristic of Mm. ^^Our ^^Homer-Lucan," as he was gracefully termed by Daniel, is a poet much admired by great men. Edmund Waller never could read Chapman's Homer without a degree of transport. Barry is reputed to have said that when he went into the street after reading it, men seemed ten feet high; Coleridge declares Chapman's version of the Odyssey to be as truly an original poem as the ^^ Faerie Queene." He also declares that Chapman in his moral heroic verse stands above Ben Jon- son. ' ' There is more dignity, more lustre, ^^and equal strength." Translation was in those times a new force in literature. By the indomitable force and fire of genius Chapman has made Homer himself speak English by translating the genius, and by having chosen that which prefers the spirit to the letter. It is in his translation that the ^^Hiad" is best read as an English book. Out of it there comes a whiff of the breath of Homer. It is as massive 146 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE and majestic as Homer himself would have written in the land of the virgin qneen. ^^He has added/' says Swinburne, "a monument to the temple which con- '^ tains the glories of his native language, ''the godlike images, and the costly relics ^^of the past." ^^The earnestness and ^^ passion/' says Charles Lamb, ^^ which ^^he has put into every part of these po- ^^ems would be incredible to a reader of ^^mere modern translations. His almost ^^ Greek zeal for the honor of his heroes ' ' is only paralleled by that fierce spirit of ^^ Hebrew bigotry with which Milton, as "it personating one of the zealots of the ^^old law, clothed himself when he sat ^^down to paint the acts of Samson ^^ against the uncircumcised. " It was the reflected Hellenic radiance of the grand old Chapman version to the lifted eyes of Keats flooded with the ^4ight which ^^ never was on sea or shore." This younger poet sang: AND ROBERT GREENE 147 ^^Mucli have I traveled in the reahns of gold, '^And many goodly states and kingdoms seen, ^^ Round many western islands have I been, ^^ Which bards in fealty to Apollo hold; '^Oft of one wide expanse had I been told '^That deep-browed Homer ruled as his demesne ^^Yet did I never breathe its pure serene ^^Till I heard Chapman speak out loud and bold." The preface to Webster's tragedy, ^^The White Devil," which contains a slight mention of Shakespeare, was printed in 1612, after all the immortal plays were written and their reputed au- thor had returned to Stratford, probably in 1611, in his fortj^-seventh year, where he lived idly for five years before his death. John Webster possessed a crit- ical faculty and an independent judg- ment, but the way he makes mention of Shakespeare shows that he knew nothing 148 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE about the individual man, or the work, called Shakespeare. The generous reference to '^The la- ^^boured and understanding works of ^^ Master Jonson" gives a clear idea of the main characteristics of the work of Jon- son, who, not having reached the fruition of his renown in 1611, but in the after time, camic into Dry den's view as ^^The '^ greatest man of the last age, the m.ost ^ learned and judicious writer any thea- 'Hre ever had." John Webster writes of "the no less worthy composures of Beau- ^^mont and Fletcher" then in the morn- ing of life. They present an admirable model for purity of vocabulary and sim- plicity of expression and were of ^4oud- '^est fame." ''Two of Beaumont's and ''Fletcher's plays were acted to one of "Shakespeare's, or Ben Jonson's," in Dry den's time. There is strong presumptive proof that printers and publishers in Elizabethan and Jacobin times were in the habit of se- lecting names or titles that would best AND ROBERT GREENE 149 sell their books. The most popular books or best sellers they printed were books of songs, love-tales, comedies and sonnets of the amorous, scented kind, and it mat- tered not to publishers if the name printed on the title-page was a personal name, or one impersonal. Title-pages were not even presumptive proof of au- thorship in the time of Queen Elizabeth and King James. The printers chose to market their publications under the most favorable conditions, and some writers chose the incognizable name '^Shakes- ^^peare" which had been attached to the voluptuous poem ^' Venus and Adonis." This was published by Richard Field, in whose name it had been entered in the Stationer's Register in 1593. There was no name of an author on the title-page, but the dedication was to the Earl of Southampton and was signed ^^ William ^^Shakespeare." This was the first ap- pearance of the name ^^Shakespeare" in literature, being the non-de-plume, doubt- less, of the writer who gave this erotic 150 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE poem to the world— ^' The first heir of my ^ invention." Not finding ^^Shakespeare" in the an- tliology of his dav^ the most natural in- ference would be that all those who wrote under the name ^^Shakespeare" wrote in- cognito. We know that Marlowe, Beau- mont, Greene, Drayton and many writers of that age wrote anonymously for the Elizabethan stage. Many of the anony- mous writings have been retrieved ; much, doubtless, remains still to be reclaimed from the sif tings of what are named Early Comedy, Early History, and Pre- Shakespearean Group of plays. Mr. Spedding had the good fortune to be the first to demonstrate the theory of a di- vided authorship of ^' Henry VHL," to reclaim for Fletcher ^^Wolsey's Farewell ^Ho all his Greatness." Thirteen out of the seventeen scenes of '^ Henry the ^^ Eighth" are attributed by Mr. Lee (P. 212) to Fletcher. A majority of the best critics now agree with Miss Jane Lee, in the assignment of the second and third AND ROBERT GREENE 151 part of Henry VI. to Marlowe, Greene and Peele. The difficulty of identifying Shakes- peare, the author poet, with the young man who came up from Stratford, has induced Shakespearean scholars to ques- tion the unity of authorship. Mr. Swin- burne tells us that no scholar believes in the single authorship of ^^Andronicus." Mr. Lee admits that Shakespeare drew largely on the ^'Hamlet," which he has attributed to Kyd (P. 182). ^^It is '' scarcely possible," says Mr. Marshall in the '^Irving Shakespeare," ^Ho maintain ^^that the play ' (Hamlet) ' referred to as 'Svell known in 1589, could have been b}^ ^^Shakspere— that is— by the young actor '^from Stratford. Sureh^ not. We see '^the question of the unity of the author '^and authorship involves the question of '4iis identity." It is evident that the au- thor poet, whoever he was, had, in his time of initiation, ^^purloyned plumes" from Marlowe, K3^d and Greene, and, when nearing the close of his literary 152 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE career, according to Prof. A. H. Thorn^ dike, lie was a close imitator of Joliii Fletcher— not so much an innovator as an adapter. AVhat do we know of Shakespeare, the author poet, ''The Man in a Mask?" We know nothing, absolutely nothing. No reputed play by Shakespeare was pub- lished before 1597^ and none bore the name Shakespeare on the title page till 1598. Lodge, in his prose satire ''Wits "Misery," dated 1596, enumerates the wits of the time. Shakspere is not men- tioned. Dr. Peter Heylys was born in 1600, and died in 1662, thus being sixteen years old when Shakspere, the player died. In reckoning up the famous dra- matic poets of England he omits Shaks- pere. Ben Jonson, in the catalogue of writers, also omits Shakspere, and at a later date, writing on the instruction of youth and the best authors, he forgets all about Shakspere. Philip Henslow, the old play-broker, also in writing his note- book during the twelve years beginning AND ROBERT GREENE . 153 in February, 1591, does not even mention Shakspere. Milton's poem on Shakes- peare (1630) was not published in his works in 1645. This epitaph was prefixed to the folio edition of Shakespeare (1632), but without Milton's name. It is the first of his reputed poems that was published. Its pedigree was not at all satisfactory. Milton, having been misled by Ben Jonson's lines on Shakespeare, ^^And though thou hadst small Latin and "less Greek," writes of ^^ Sweetest Shakespeare, Fancy's child, Warbles his native woodnotes wild." Milton's acquaintance with Shakes- peare verse must have been very meager, for had he read ^' Venus and Adonis," so classic and formal, he would agree with Walter Savage Lander that ^^ No poet was ^^ever less a warbler of woodnotes wild." It was never said in the original authori- ties that a Shakespeare play, or one by Shakspere, was played between 1594 and 1614. There were published in quarto 154 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE twenty-three plays in Shakespeare 's name— twelve of which are not now ac- cepted—and nine without his name. The folio (1623) is the sole original authority for seventeen plays, but five writers— four of them very inferior men— refer to Shakespeare, antecedent to the folio of 1623. Search as we may, w^e fail to find the play-actor in affiliation with poets or scholars. How unlike the literary men of that age; for instance, George Chap- man, who had been called the ''blank of ''his age," and not without reason for, in all that pertains to the poet's personal history, absolutely nothing is known in regard to his family, and very little of his own private life. Much, however, is known concerning Chapman's personal authorship of poems and plays for the list of passages extracted from his poems in "England's Parnassus" or the "Choic- "est Flowers of Our Modern Poets" con- tains no less than eighty-one. At the time of this publication (1600), he had pub- AND ROBERT GREENE 155 lislied but two plays and three poems. ^^The proud full sail of his great verse" (Chapman's Homer) had not at this time been unfurled. At the time, this first English anthol- ogy was compiled and published, thirteen of the Shakespeare plays and two poems had been issued. Nevertheless Shakes- peare does not figure in the anthology of his day. Why? The play-actor, Wil- liam Shakspere, in his life time was not publicly credited with the personal au- thorship of the plays and poems called Shakespeare's, except possibly by three or four j)oeticules, Bomfield, Freeman, Meres, and Weaver, who followed each other in the iteration and reiteration of the same insipid and affected compli- ments, not one of them impljdng a per- sonal acquaintance with the author. Some few persons may have believed that the player and play-wright were one and the same person, and were deceived into so believing. This much we do know, that the player Shakspere never openly sane- 156 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE tioned tlie identification, although he may have been accessory to the deception. It should be borne in mind also that no poet was remembered in Shakspere's will, as were the actors. Many writers of that age were com- munistic in the use of the name ' ' Shakes- ^^peare" as a descriptive title, very much like the Italians' pantomime called '^Sil- ^^verspear/' standing for the collocuted works of not one, but several play- makers. Sir Thomas Brown complained that his name was being used to float books that he never wrote. In the list be- fore us there are forty-nine plays which were published with Shakespeare's name. Doubtless there were many others; not one in fifty of the dramas of this period, according to Hallowell-Philips, having descended to modern times. Many writ- ers of that age wrote anonymously and pseudonymously. Edmund Spencer, au- thor of '^The Shepherd's Calendar" re- mained incognito for seven years. Eight years after this work appeared George AND ROBERT GREENE 157 Wliitstone ascribed it to Philip Sidney and a cotemporary writer, mistaking Spencer's masking name for the author of the works. Spencer committed ''The Faerie Queen" to the press after nine 3^ears. Only four of Beaumont and Fletcher's plays were published in Fletcher's lifetime and none of them bore Beaumont's name. Fletcher survived his partner nine years. Robert Burton, author of The Anatomy of Melancholy," maintained his incognito for a time, he avers, because it gave him greater free- dom. Jean Baptiste Popuelin preferred to be known as Moliere. ^Francais-Marie Aronet won enduring fame as Voltaire. Sir Walter Scott maintained his incog- nito as the great unknown for years like ''Junius," "whose secret was intrusted to "no one and was never to be revealed." Sir Walter Scott preserved his secret un- til driven to the brink of financial de- struction. Drayton also had written under the pseudonym of Rowland. Who can doubt that the author of "Hamlet," 158 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE ^^Lear'' and ^'Macbeth," chose to sheath his private life and personality as a man of letters in an impenetrable incognito— "the nothingness of a name." Of the thirty-seven plays assigned by the folio of 1623, not one had received the acknowledgment of their reputed au- thor (Shakespeare). Not a single line in verse or prose assented to for comparison and identification, and in the absence of credible evidence of his authorship of certain poems, there can be no authorita- tive sanction of the assignment. No person writing on the subject of Shakespeare can write a literary life of the individual man, for player Shakspere of Stratford-on-Avon does not offer a single point of correspondence to the ac- tivities of a literary man or scholar. The fantastical critics profess to read the story of the author's life in his works. This is an absurdity, for dramatic art is mainly character creation and cannot be made to disclose a knowledge of his pri- vate life. The artist is an observer and AND ROBERT GREENE 159 paints the thing seen. He, himself, is not the thing which he depicts but he gives the character as it is. In the opinion of the present writer it is a waste of time to attempt to identify Shakspere, the play- actor, with any one of the dramatic per- sonages contained in the plays called Shakespeare's. Forty-six years after the death of Wil- liam Shakspere of Stratford, Thomas Fuller in his '^Worthies," published posthumously in 1662, wrote: ^^Many were the wit-combats between ^^him and Ben Jonson, which two I be- ^^hold like a Spanish great galleon and an ^'English man-of-war." Fuller being born in 1608, was only eight years old when player-Shakspere died, and but two when he quitted Lon- don. If this precocious youngster beheld the ^Svit-combats" of the two, he could only have beheld them as he lay ^^mewl- '4ng and puking in his nurse's arms." VI. We have in conclusion decided to fo- cus the interest of the reader chiefly in the attestation of Ben Jonson for the works which were associated with the name of William Shakspere of Stratford. Ben Jonson presents a contrast to Wil- liam Shakspere, in almost every respect, so striking as to awaken an irrepressible desire to compare the mass of proven facts adduced from authentic records. Being born in the city of London in the early part of 1574, he was ten years younger than Shakspere. He was the son of a clergyman. In spite of poverty he was educated at Westminster School, William Camden being his tutor, to whom Jonson refers as " Camden, most reverend ^'head, to whom I owe all that I am— in arts all that I owe." A recent writer on the subject of Jonson says, '^No other of '^ Shakspere 's contemporaries has left so /'splendid and so enthusiastic an eulogy AND ROBERT GREENE 161 '^of the master." In this statement all must concur, for Jonson is the only writer of eminence among Shakspere's cotemporaries, who has left words of praise or censure, or have taken any no- tice, either of Shakspere, or of the works which bear his name ; notwithstanding, it was the custom among literary men of the day to belaud their friends in verse or prose, Shakspere in his lifetime was hon- ored with no mark of Ben Jonson 's ad- miration. Not a single line of commend- atory verse was addressed to Shakspere by Jonson, although this promiscuous panegyrist was, with characteristic ex- travagance, so indiscriminate in sympa- thy or patronage. What shrimp was there among hack writers who could not gain a panegyric from his generous tongue ? For five and twenty years Shakspere and Jonson jostled in London streets, yet there was no sign or word of recognition as they passed each other by. Writers on the subject of Jonson and Shakspere say 162 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE that we have abundant tradition of their close friendship. There are no credible traditions. The manufactured traditions, so conspicuous in books called, ''A Life of William Shakspere/' are the dreams of fancy, fraud and fiction, used to fill the lacuna, or gap, in the life of the Strat- ford man. The proven facts of William Shaks- pere's life are facts unassociated with au- thor craft— facts that prove the isolation and divorcement of player and poet. The proven facts of Ben Jonson's life are facts interlacing man and poet. Almost every incident in his life reveals his per- sonal affection, or bitter dislike, for his fellow craftsmen, always ready for a quarrel, arrogant, vain, boastful and vul- gar. There is much truth in Dekker's charge, '^'Tis thy fashion to flirt ink in ^^ every man's face and then crawl into ''his bosom." He had many quarrels with Marston, beat him, and wrote his ''Poetaster on him." He was federated in a comedy "(Eastward Ho)" with AND ROBERT GREENE 163 Chapman, and was sent to prison for li- beling the Scottish nobility. Ben Jon- son's personality and literary work are inseparable. Drunk or sober, few have served learning with so much pertinacity, and fewer still, have so successfully chal- lenged admiration even from literary ri- vals, with whom at times he w^as most bit- terly hostile, and at other times, indis- putably open-handed and jovial. Ben Jonson had a literary environ- ment always for there is perfect inter- lacement of man and craft. He became one of the most prolific writers of his age occupying among the men of his day a position of literary supremacy. "In the forty years of his literary career he col- ^4ected a library so extensive that Gif- '^ford doubted whether any library in ' ' England was so rich in scarce and valu- ^^able books." From the pages of Isaac De Israeli we read, ^^No poet has left be- '^hind him so many testimonials of per- ^^sonal fondness by inscriptions and ^'addresses in the copies of his works 164 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE '^ which he presented to his friends." But of all these, as strange as it must seem to the votaries of Shakspere, not a single copy of Jonson's works is brought for- ward to bear witness of his personal re- gard and admiration for Shakspere, and we may add that there is no testimonial by Shakspere of his regard and personal fondness for Ben Jonson, although many of the literary antiquaries have un- earthed in their researches facts or new discoveries, which they have brought for- ward as new particulars of the life of William Shakspere. These, if not incom- patible with authorship, are surely di- vorcing Shakspere, the actor, from Shakespeare, the author poet. They but deepen the mystery that surrounds the personality of the author of the immortal plays— ^^ The shadow of a mighty name.'- At the same time they disclose the true character of Shakspere the actor, money- lender, land-owner and litigant, which is affirmative of John Bright 's opinion that ^^any man who believes that William AND ROBERT GREENE 165 ^^Sliakspere of Stratford wrote 'Hamlet' ''or 'Lear' is a fool." The student reader will perceive that Jonson's verse does not agree with his prose, and that . his "Ode to Shakes- "peare/' which Dry den called "an inso- "lent, sparing, and invidious, panegyric," Avas not the final word of comment which is contained in Ben Jonson's "Discover- "ies"— a prose reference in disparage- ment of Shakespeare, the writer, while laudatory of the man whom, he may have believed was identifiable with the play- Avright. We believe he was mistaken in so believing. Ben Jonson was vulnerable most in his character as a witness. The reader must therefore be indulgent if we make some remarks upon the credibility and competency of this witness. The elder writers on the subject of Jonson and Shakespeare before Gifford's time (1757-1826) were always harping on Ben Jonson 's jealousy and envy of Shakes- peare. Since Gifford's day the antiquary has been abroad in the land without hav- 166 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE ing discovered anything of a literary life of Shakespeare. As if by general consent, all recent writers on the subject regard Jonson's attestation, or his metrical trib- ute, to the ^^ memory of my beloved au- thor, Mr. William Shakespeare, '^an es- ^^sential element in Shakespeare's biog- ^^raphy as the title deed of authorship.'- Having made him their star witness, we shall hear no more of Jonson's jealousy and envy of Shakespeare. A final consideration will show how lit- tle Ben Jonson is to be relied on ''as at- '' testing the responsibility of the Strat- ''ford player for the works which are ''associated with his name." There is not a word or sentence in all Jonson's writ- ings which bear witness to Shakspere as a writer of plays or poems anterior to the Stratford player's death, as all reference to Shakespeare in Jonson's verse and prose are posterior to this event. They refute each other and discredit the writer. "Conversations of Ben Jonson "with William Drummond" are of great ANE) ROBERT GREENE 167 literary and historical value and are im- Ijortant too, as bearing on Ben Jonson's competency and credibleness as a wit- ness. The Drunimond notes were first printed by Mr. David Lang, who dis- covered them among the manuscripts of Sir Robert Sibbald, a well known anti- quarian. '^ Conversations," as we have it on the evidence of Drummond, is in accord with almost every contemporary reference to Jonson and internally they agree with Ben Jonson's own ^ ^Discover- ^4es." There should be no controversy in regard to the justice of the Scottish poet's criticism. From the notes re- corded by Drummond we learn, ^'He ^^(Ben Jonson) is a great lover and ^^praiser of himself, a contemner and ^^scorner of others, especially after drink ' ' which is one of the elements in which he ^4iveth." The conversations recorded by Drummond took place when Jonson vis- ited him at Hawthornden in 1618-19 and disclose the fact that ^^Rare Ben" was a vulgar, boastful, tipsy backbiter, who 168 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE black-guarded many of his fellow crafts- men. The last circumstance recorded of Ben Jonson is where reference is made to his display of self -worship at the expense of others. In a letter dated from West- minster April 5, 1636, James Howell de- scribes a Solem supper giA^en by Jonson at which he and Thomas Carew were present, when Ben seems to have drenched himself with his favorite can- ary wine. How^ell writes, ^^I was invited ^yesternight to a Solem ^^ supper by B. J. whom you deeply re- ' ^member. There was good company, ex- ^^cellent cheer, choice wines, and jovial ^^ welcome. One thing intervened which '^alm.ost spoiled the relish of the rest. '^Ben began to engross all the discourse '^to vapour extremely of himself and by ^Sdlifying others to magnify his own '^muse. Thomas Carew buzzed me in the ^^ear that Ben had barreled up a great '^deal of knowledge, yet seems he had not ^^read the ^Ethiques' which, among other ''precepts of morality, forbid self com- AND ROBERT GREENE. 169 ^^mendation. But for my part I am con- ^^tent to dispense with this Roman infirm- ^4ty of B's now that time has snowed /^upon his pricranium." The reader is not unmindful that the language of Ben Jonson is sometimes grossly opprobrious, sometimes basely adulatory, while his laudatory verses on Shakespeare, Silvester, Beaumont and other cotemporary writers, are in striking contrast by the discrepancy of testimony disclosed by his prose works and conversations. In the memorial verses Jonson tells us Shakespeare stood alone— ^^ Alone for the comparison of all ''that insolent Greece or haughty Rome ^^sent forth or since did from their ashes ^^come." The strictest scrutiny, how- ever, into the life and works of Ben Jon- son fails to denote his actual acquaint- ance with the works of the greatest gen- ius of our world. What became of his enthusiastic eulogy of Shakespeare, when ^^from my house in the Black-Friars this ^'llth day of February, 1607" Ben Jon- 170 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE son writes his dedication— ^^Volpone" to ^^The Two Famous Universities/' which should have disclosed his close friendship with, and admiration for, William Shakespeare, for the great dramatist was then in the zenith of his power. The dedi- cation of ^^Volpone" was written nine years before the death of William Shak- spere, the player, when Jonson declared ' ' I shall raise the despised head of poetry ^^ again and stripping her out of those ^^ rotten and base rags wherewith the '^ times have adulterated her form." It should be remembered, that at the time of this sweeping condemnation of what he terms dramatic or stage-poetry, thirty-one of the thirty-six of the immor- tal Shakespearean plays were then writ- ten. All of the very greatest— ^^ Ham- let," ^'Lear," ^^ Macbeth "—were, in Ben Jonson 's estimation in 1607, ^^ rotten and ^'base rags." While in 1623 in the ''Memorial Verses" he tells us that their reputed author was the ''soul of the age." "It is a legal maxim that a witness AND ROBERT GREENE 171 ^^wlio swears for both sides swears for '^neither, and a rule of common law no *4ess than common sense that his evi- ^^dence must be ruled out." Ben Jonson's egotism would, of course, preclude a just judgment of the work of his fellow craftsman. He felt that his own writings were immeasurably superior. Did he ever read the so-called Shakspere plays before he wrote the ^^Ode to the Memory ''of my Beloved The Author, Mr. Wil- ''liam Shakespeare, and What He Hath ''Left Us" for the syndicate of printers? For the affirmative of the proposition there is not the faintest presumption of probable evidence. Jonson often became the generous panegyrist of poets whose writings in all probability he never had read. He took pleasure in commending in verse the works of men not worthy of his notice, and in lauding and patronizing juvenile mediocrity and poeticules of the gutter-snipe order. In his prefatory remarks to the reader in "Sejanus" there is the same display of excess 172 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE of commendation. Ben Jonson writes, '^Lastly I would inform you that this '^book in all numbers is not the same ^^with that which was acted on the public '^ stage wherein a second pen had good ^^ share, in place of which I have rather ^^ chosen to put weaker and no doubt less '^pleasing of my own than to defraud so '^ happy a genius of his right by my loath- ^^ed usurpations." According to Dry den, Ben Jonson 's ^compliments were left-handed. Neverthe- less, the words ^^so happy a genius" have directed the thoughts of commentators to Shakespeare. Mr. Nicholson, however, has shown that the person alluded to is not Shakespeare, but a very inferior poet, Samuel Sheppard, who more than forty years later claimed for himself the honor of having collaborated in ^^Sejanus" with Ben Jonson. Compliments bestowed on inferior men of the elder time are in later times the reprisal of Shakespearean buccaneers; while many of Jonson 's ver- sified panegyrics on cotemporary poets AND ROBERT GREENE 173 were retrieved by his withering con- tempt for many of them, orally expressed, or contained in his prose works, Shakes- peare being included among these. Still, at the Apollo roonl of the Devil Tavern were numbered the most distinguished men of the day outside of literary cir- cles, as well as within, who sought his f el- ' lowship and would gladly have sealed themselves of the tribe of Ben. Claren- don tells us that ^ ^ his conversations were ''verj^ good and with men of most note." The following is, in part, from the notes recorded by William Drummond, Laird of Hawthornden. ^^Conversations of Ben Jonson. His ^^ censure of the English poets was this: ^^That Sidney did not keep a decorum in '^making every one speak as well as him- ^^self. Spencer's stanzas pleased him not ^^nor his matter. ^^ Samuel Daniel was a good honest ^^man, had no children, but no poet, and '^was jealous of him; that Michael Dray- ^^ ton's long verses pleased him not — 174 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE 'Drayton feared him and he esteemed not 'of him; that Donne's 'Anniversary' was 'profane and full of blasphemies 'that Donne, for not keeping of accent 'deserved hanging; that Shakespeare 'wanted art; that Day, Dekker and Min- 'shew were all rogues ; that Abram Fran- 'cis, in his English hexameters, was a ' fool ; that next to himself only Fletcher 'and Chapman could make a masque. "He esteemeth John Donne the first 'poet in the world in some things; that 'Donne, himself, for not being under- ' stood w^ould perish. "Sir Henry Wotton's verses of a ' 'Happy Life' he hath by heart, and a 'piece of Chapman's translation of the 'thirteen of the 'Iliads,' which he think- 'eth well done. That Francis Beaumont 'loved too much himself and his own 'verse. "He had many quarrels with Marston; 'that Markham was not of the number of 'the faithful, and but a base fellow; that 'such were Day and Middleton; that AND ROBERT GREENE 175 ^Chapman and Fletcher were loved of ^him ; that Spencer died for lack of bread 4n King street; that the King said Sir ^P. Sidney was no poet. Neither did he ^see any verses in England to the Scul- lers, meaning that John Taylor was the 'best poet in England; that Shakespeare 4n a play brought in a number of men ^saying they had suffered shipwreck in ^Bohemia where there is no sea near by ^some 100 miles. '^Sundry times he (Jonson) hath de- voured his books, sold them all for neces- 'sity; that he hath consumed a whole ^ night in lying looking at his great toe, ' about which he hath seen Carthagenians ^and the Romans fighting; that the half 'of his comedies were not in print; he 'said to Prince Charles, of Inigo Jones, 'that when he wanted words to express 'the greatest villain in the world, he 'would call him an 'Inigo,' Jones having 'accused him for naming him, behind his 'back, a fool, he denied it; but, says he, I 'said he w^as an arrant knave, and I 176 WILLIAM SHAKSPERE ^'avouch it; of all his plays he never ^^ gained 200 pounds; he dissuaded me '^from poetry for that she had beggared ^^him when he might have been a rich ^ lawyer, physician, or merchant; that ^ Apiece of the ^Pucelle of the Court' was ^'stolen out of his pocket by a gentleman ^^who drank him drowsy." These occasional infractions of sobriety by Ben Jonson when he conversed with Drummond at Hawthornden in 1618-19 became habitual with him long before James Howell's invitation to a Solem supper by B. J. 1636. Day, Middleton, Dekker and Sir Walter Raleigh could have instituted a civil suit against Ben Jonson for defama- tion of character, because of the defama- tory words in conversation with William Drum.mond of Hawthornden, had the notes recorded by Drummond been pub- lished in the lifetime of the defamed. However, they had come to regard him, doubtless, as a notorious slanderer who would as soon falsifj^ as verify, and was AND ROBERT GREENE 177 not to be believed in unsworn testimony about his fellowmen or as a credible wit- ness as to any matter— one whose testi- mony was none too good under every sanction possible to give it. This is the writer who gave genesis to the Stratford myth. The matter-of-fact to be accen- tuated is that the contemporaries of the writer of the immortal plays did not know positively who wrote them; we do not know positively w^ho wrote them ; and our latest posterity, wdien Holy Trinity's monuments, turrets, and towers shall have crumbled and commingled with the shrined dust of William Shakspere of Stratford-on-Avon, may not know posi- tively w^ho wrote them. In conclusion, it has not been our de- sign to point out, or suggest, who, in fact, wrote the poems and plays, but rather to show that the man of Stratford was by education, temperament, character, repu- tation, opportunity and calling, wholly unequal to so transcendent a task, and that the authorship assumed in favor of 178 WILLIAM SHAKS'PERE this man, rests upon no tangible proof, but to the contrary upon strained and far- fetched conjecture, merely. INDEX, Pages Alleyn Edward 17, 18, 19, 42, 107 Addenbroke John 115, 116 Aubury John 141 Blank Verse 31 Bame Richard 7 8 Burbages 18, 42 Beaumont Francis. .122, 123, 142, 148, 150, 157, 169, 174 Burns Robert .48 Burton Robert 53, 157 Bruno 79 Bodley Sir Thomas 94 Betterton 103 Bright John 164 Brown Sir Thomas 156 Brown Richard 16 Bunyan John 44, 45 Brow^n J. M 54 Camden William 160 Chapman George 81, 93, 122, 136, 140, 141, 142, 143, 144, 145, 146, 147, 154, 155, 163, 174, 175 Chettle Henry 35, 43, 49, 63, 68, 69, 70, 71, 74, 75, 76, 77, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 89, 90, 91 Collier J. P 25 Cook Dr. James 101 Coleridge S. T 47, 144, 145 Cicero 50, 84 Combe WilUam 109, 110, 125 Cromwell Oliver 3 Dryden John 39, 148, 165, 172 Drumrnond Sir William 39, 166, 167, 173, 176 Dearborn 43 Daniel Samuel 145, 173 Davis Cushman K 41 Dowland John 17 Diggs Leonard 128 Dance-Scene 100, 111, 124, 129 Dyce A 114 Davenant Sir William 135 Donne • 174 Dekker 143, 162, 174 ii INDEX Pages Drayton 150, 153, 174 Elizabeth Queen 53, 157 Emerson R. W 114, 130 Fletcher John 43, 122, 142, 148, 150, 152, 157 Fleay , 70 Ford John 122 Farmer Dr 110 Fuller Thomas 159 Garrick David Ill Grosart A 30 Robert Greene 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10, 11, 13, 14, 16, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 40, 41, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 75, 76, 77, 79, 80, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 121, 140, 150, 151 Gifford William 165 Groats Worth of Wit. .6, 9, 61, 62, 65, 68, 76, 85, 87, 89 Galileo 79 Hathaway Richard 102, 103 Howell James 168, 176 Hall Dr. John 100, 111, 124, 129 Hathaway Agnes or Anne 103, 104, 106 Herrick 45 Henry VI 30 Henslowe Diary 17, 19 Henslowe Philip. ..17, 19, 32, 42, 89, 93, 117, 118, 152, 156 Hallam Henry 114, 118, 130 Heywood 24, 143 Halliwell-Phillips 32, 15 6 Harvey Gabriel 18, 40, 47, 49, 50, 51, 52, 53, 62, 69 Ingleby Dr 37 Jonson Ben : 24, 39, 59, 81, 90, 92, 93, 94, 122, 136, 137, 139, 140, 142, 143 145, 148, 152, 153, 159, 160, 161, 162, 163, 164, 165, 166, 167, 168, 169, 170, 171, 172, 173, 175, 176 James First 43, 147 Jusserand J. J 60 Jefferson Thomas 7 9 Kemp William 11, 14, 15, 16 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 31, 32, 33, 35, 92 Kyd 43, 151 Keats John 146 Kind Hearts Dreams 35, 63, 68, 76, 91 Lucy Sir Thomas 107, 113, 114 Lincoln Abraham 89 Lodge Thomas 34, 72, 73, 140, 152 Lee Sidney 133, 137, 151 INDEX iii Pages London 15, 20, 21, 105 Lee Miss Jane .150 Lucrece 131, 138 Lamb Charles 146 Lander Walter Savage 153 Marlowe Christopher 6, 11, 30, 31, S5, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 86, 144, 150, 151 Milton John 49, 122, 146, 153 Mulcaster Richard 101 Miller Joaquin 50 Malone 9 4 Mannering Arthur 109, 110 Middleton 174 Massinger Phillip 122 Marston John 24, 136, 162, 174 Meres Francis 138, 139, 140, 141, 155 Nash Thomas. . . . 7, 11, 15, 18, 29, 30, 32, 35, 38, 45, 49, 52, 62, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 140 Napoleon 96 Nicholson Dr 172 Norwich 20, 22, 62 Overbury Sir Thomas 43 Peele George 7, 11, 30, 35, 69, 70, 71, 72, 74, 75, 83, 86, 151 Poe Edgar Allen 48 Quiney Richard 108, 111, 112 Rathway Richard 2 4 Rosebery Lord . . . • • 9 6 Rowe N 103, 134, 135 William Shakspere the Stratfordian 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 28 29, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 41, 42, 45, 70, 71, 82, 86, 87, 96, 97, 99, 100, 101, 102, 103, 104, 105, 106, 107, 108, 109, 110, 111, 112, 113, 114, 115, 116, 117, 118, 119, 120, 122, 123, 124, 125, 126, 127, 128, 129, 130, 133, 134, 135, 136, 137, 138, 151, 152, 155, 156, 158, 159, 160, 161, 162, 164, 165, 166, 170, 171, 177 Shakespeare the Author Poet 2, 31, 33, 37, 39, 43, 55, 60, 70, 72, 90, 124, 130, 131, 132, 138, 140, 142, 143, 144, 147, 148, 149, 150, 152, 153, 154, 155, 158, 159, 164, 165, 166, 169, 170, 171, 172, 175 Shakspere John 96, 97, 98, 101 Shakspere Susana ioO, 111 Shakspere Judith 100, 112 Shakspere Hamnet • • 108 Shake-scene 5, 6, 8, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16 Shake-rags 16, 23 Spencer Edmund 144, 156, 157, 173 iv INDEX Pages Stratford-on-Avon 1, 12, 41, 90, 99, 100, 101, 103, 104, 105, 107,' 108 Sidney Sir Phillip 18, 144, 157 Stevens George 2, 114, 130 S'winburn A 47, 96, 146, 151 Scott Sir Walter 5 9, 157 Strojenko Prof • • 66 Stratford Bust 12 8, 131 Spedding- James 150 Saunders 132 Southampton Earl of... 132, 133, 134, 136, 137, 138, 149 Tarlton Richard 15, 114, 130 Tyrwhitt Thomas 9 "The Nine Days Wonder" 16, 21 Twain Mark 130 Thompson James 49 Taft William H. 79 Taylor John 175 Thorndike A. H 152 Tolstoy Leo 90 Upstart Crow 5, 9, 2 8, 82 Venus and Adonis 32, 131, 138, 149 Voltair 157 Washington George 3 Wilson Robert, Senior 25, 26, 27 White Richard Grant 116 Wallace Professor 119 Waller Edmund 145 Wately Anna 102 , THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST dS ,isg STAMPED BELOW AN INITIAL PINE OP 25 CENTS THIS BOOK ON THE DATE DUE. THE PENALTY dIy'Ind"™ V° "° ^"^^^ °'^ THE p™ur™ OVERDUE. °'' ^"^ SEVENTH DAY M> 19.1:? OCT la 193/ i^ 22198785 RECEIVED ^Slirt'^SRf- AUG 3 1955 LU -FEE^ZSZ^aBL -^29ife^S3cifL L,-D -.- 3 HB — ~FEs~rmr7~ LUAJsJlUltHI. RECEIVED FEB ^'67 8 PM - LOAN DEPT. LD 21-100m-8,'34 LOAN OEPT , QCL25JSSZ_ ^P62A-50m-7'65 (^5756810) 9412A J. . General Library UmversuyofCalSSrnia Berkeley