and himself had followed the circumstances that led him
to the metropolis, a fact which is established by his con-
currence with them in an endeavor that they were
making in 1587 to obtain favorable terms for a proposed
relinquishment of Asbies. Nine years previously they had
borrowed the sum of £40, on the security of that estate,
from their connection, Edmund Lambert of Barton-on-the-
Heath. The loan remaining unpaid, and the mortgagee
dying in April, 1587, his son and heir, John, threatened
shortly after that event with the institution of a law-suit
for the recovery of the property, was naturally desirous of
having the matter settled, and It was arranged in the folr
56
SHAKESPEARE Life
lowing September that Lambert should, on canceling the
mortgage and paying also the sum of £20, receive from
the Shakespeares an absolute title to the estate, or, to
speak more accurately, the best title which it was in their
power to grant. Having obtained the assent of William,
who was his mother's heir-apparent, they were enabled to
offer all but a perfect security ; but it appears, from the
records of a subsequent litigation, that the intended com-
promise was abandoned.
It clearly appears, from the account given by Rowe,
that Shakespeare returned to his native town after the
dangers from the Lucy prosecution had subsided. The
same writer informs us that the visit occurred subse-
quently to his junction with one of the theatrical com-
panies. The exact dates of these events are unknown, but
it is not likely that he would have ventured into Sir Thom-
as's neighborhood for a considerable time after his esca-
pade. Country justices wielded in those days tremendous
power in adjudication on minor offenses. There were na
newspapers to carry the intelligence of provincial tyranny
to the ears of a sensitive public opinion, and there is no
doubt that a youth in Shakespeare's position, who had
dared to lampoon the most influential magistrate of the
locality, would have been for some time in a critical posi-
tion. However greatly he may have desired to rejoin his
family, it is, therefore, not probable that the poet would
be found again at Stratford-on-Avon before the year
1587, and then we have, in the Lambert episode, a sub-
stantial reason for believing that he had at that time a
conference with bis parents on the subject of the Asbies
mortgage. The sum of £20, equivalent to at least £2*40
now-a-days, to be paid in cash by Lambert, wouM have
57
Life WILLIAM
been an element of serious importance to them all in their
then financial circumstances. It must have been a sub-
ject for anxious deliberation, one that could hardly have
been arranged without a personal interview, and, in the
presence of Rowe's testimony, it may fairly be assumed that
the meeting took place at Stratford, not in London.
In the same year, 1587, an unusual number of companies
of actors visited Stratford-on-Avon, including the Queen's
Players and those of Lords Essex, Leicester, and Staf-
ford. This circumstance has given rise to a variety of
speculations respecting the company to which the poet may
then have belonged; but the fact is that we are destitute
of any information, and have no relative means of form-
ing an opinion on the subject. Even if it be conceded
that Burbage's theater was the first with which Shakespeare
was connected, no progress is made in the enquiry. That
personage, who had retired from the stage, was in the
habit of letting the building to any public entertainers who
would remunerate him either in cash or by a share of prof-
its. There was no establishment at that time devoted for
a long continuous period to the use of a single company.
It is, however, all but certain that the favorite theory
of Shakespeare having been one of the Queen's servants
at this period is incorrect, for his name is not found in
the official hst belonging to the following year; so that,
if he was connected in any way with them, he could at
the latter date have been merely one of the underlings
who were not in a position of sufficient importance to be
included in the register. With the single exception of the
absence of his name from that list, no evidence whatever
has been discovered to warrant a conjecture on the sub-
ject. But although there is no reason for believing that
58
SHAKESPEARE Life
he was ever one of tlie royal actors, we may be sure that
he must have witnessed, either at Stratford or London,
some of the inimitable performances of the company's star,
the celebrated Richard Tarlton. This individual, the
"pleasant Willy" of Spenser, who died in September, 1588,
was the most popular comedian of the day, one of those
instinctive humorists who have merely to show their faces
to be greeted with roars of merriment. It may have been,
when the part of Derick, the clown, was in his hands, that
Shakespeare became acquainted with the Famous Victories
of Henry the Fifth, a lively play, some of the incidents of
which he unquestionably recollected when composing his
histories of that sovereign and his predecessor. There
was another drama that was played in London about the
eame time, one in which Tarlton's personation of a disso-
lute youth was singularly popular and long remembered.
In this latter was a death-bed scene, a notice of which may
be worth giving as an example of the dramatic incidents
that were relished in the poet's early days ; — A wealthy
father, in the last extremity of illness, communicates his
testamentary intentions to his three sons. His landed
estates are alloted to the eldest, who, overcome with emo-
tion, expresses a fervent wish that the invalid may yet
survive to enjoy them himself. To the next, who is a
scholar, are left a handsome annuity and a very large
sum of money for the purchase of books. Affected equally
with his brother, he declares that he has no wish for such
gifts, and only hopes that the testator may live to enjoy
them himself. The third son, represented by Tarlton, was
now summoned to the bed-side, and a grotesque figure he
must have appeared in a costume which is described by an
eye-witness as including a torn and dirty shirt, a one-
59
Life WILLIAM
sleeved coat, stockings out at heels, and a head-dress of
feathers and straw. "As for you, sirrah," quoths the
indignant parent, "you know how often I have fetched you
out of Newgate and Bridewell; — you have been an un-
gracious villain ; — I have nothing to bequeath to you but
the gallows and a rope." Following the example of the
others, Tarlton bursts into a flood of tears, and then, fall-
ing on his knees, sobbingly exclaims, — "O, father, I do
not desire them ; — I trust to Heaven you shall live to enjoy
them yourself."
It may be gathered, from the poet's subsequent history,
that his return to Stratford-on-Avon was merely of a tem-
porary character. The actors of those days were, as a
rule, individual wanderers, spending a large portion of
their time at a distance from their families; and there is
every reason for believing that this was the case with
Shakespeare from the period of his arrival in London
until nearly the end of his lix^e. All the old theatrical
companies were more or less of an itinerant character, and
it is all but impossible that he should not have already
commenced his provincial tours. But what were their di-
rections, or who were his associates, have not been discov-
ered. There is not, indeed, a single particle of evidence
respecting his career during the next five years, that is to
say, from the time of the Lambert negotiation, in 1587,
until he is discovered as a rising actor and dramatist in
1592.
This interval must have been the chief period of Shake-
speare's literary education. Removed prematurely from
school ; residing with illiterate relatives in a bookless neigh-
borhood; thrown into the midst of occupations adverse to
scholastic progress — it is difficult to believe that, when he
60
SHAKESPEARE Life
first left Stratford, he was not all but destitute of polished
accomplishments. He could not, at all events, under the
circumstances in which he had then so long been placed,
have had the opportunity of acquiring a refined style of
composition. After he had once, however, gained a foot-
ing in London, he would have been placed under difFerentj
conditions. Books of many kinds would have been accessi-
ble to him, and he would have been almost daily within
hearing of the best dramatic poetry of the age. There
would also no doubt have been occasional facilities for
picking up a little smattering of the continental languages,
and it is almost beyond a doubt that he added somewhat
to his classical knowledge during his residence in the me-
tropolis. It is, for instance, hardly possible that the
Amoves of Ovid, whence he derived his earliest motto, could
have been one of his school-books.
Although Shakespeare had exhibited a taste for poetic
composition before his first departure from Stratford-on-
Avon, all traditions agree in the statement that he was
a recognized actor before he joined the ranks of the dram-
atists. This latter event appears to have occurred on
March 3, 1592, when a new drama, entitled Henry, or
Harry, the Sixth, was brought out by Lord Strange's Serv-
ants, then acting either at Newington or Southwark under
an arrangement with Henslowe, a wealthy stage manager,
to whom no doubt the author had sold the play. In this
year, as we learn on unquestionable authority, Shakespeare
was first rising into prominent notice, so that the history
then produced, now known as the First Part of Henry the
Sixth, was, in all probability, his earliest complete dramatic
work. Its extraordinary success must have secured for
the author a substantial position in the theatrical world
61
Life WILLIAM
of the day. The play had, for those times, an unusually
long run, so that Nash, writing in or before the following
month of July, states that the performances of it had,
in that short interval, been witnessed by "ten thousand
spectators at least," and, although this estimate may be
overstrained, there can be no hesitation in receiving it as
a valid testimony to the singular popularity of the new
drama. The Second Part of Henry the Sixth must have
appeared soon afterward, but no record of its production
on the stage has been preserved. The former drama was
published for the first time in the collective edition of
1623. A garbled and spurious version of the second play,
the unskillful v/ork of some one who had not access to a
perfect copy of the original, appeared in the year 1594*
under the title of the First Part of the Contention betzvixt
the Houses of York and Lancaster. It was published by
Millington, the same bookseller who afterwards issued the
surreptitious edition of Henry the Fifth.
Robert Greene, a popular writer and dramatist, who
had commenced his literary career nine years previously,
died on September 3, 1592. In a work entitled the
Groatsworth of Wit, written shortly before his death, he
had travestied, in an Interesting sarcastic episode respect-
ing some of his contemporaries, a line from one of Shake-
speare's then recent compositions, — O, tiger's heart,
mrapp'd in a woman's hide! This line is of extreme inter-
est as including the earliest record of words composed by
the great dramatist. It forms part of a vigorous speech
which is as Shakespearean in its natural characterial fidel-
ity, as it is Marlowean in its diction. That speech of the
unfortunate Duke of York's is one of the most striking in
the play, and the above line was probably selected for qua-
62
SHAKESPEARE Life
tfttion by Greene on account of its popularity through
effective delivery. Tlie quotation shows that the Third
Part of Hemy the Sixth was written previously to Sep-
tember, 1592, and hence it may be concluded that all
Shakespeare's plays on the subject of that reign, although
perhaps subsequently revised in a few places by the author,
were originally produced in that year. A surreptitious
and tinkered version of the third part, made up by an
inferior hand chiefly out of imperfect materials, appeared
in 1595 under the title of the Tragedy of Richard Duke
of York, and therein stated to have been "sundry times
acted by the Earl of Pembroke's servants."
There is no reason for wonder in the style of a young
author being Influenced by that of a popular and accom-
plished contemporary, and judgment on the authorship of
much of the above-named plays should not be ruled by a
criticism which can only fairly be applied to the rapidly
approaching period when the great dramatist had out-
lived the possibility of appearing in the character of an
imitative writer. That Shakespeare commenced his lit-
erary vocation as, to some extent, a follower of Marlowe
can hardly be denied, even were the line quoted by Greene
the only remnant of his early plays; and that the three
parts of Henry the Sixth had been some years on the stage,
when Henry the Fifth was produced in 1599, may be gath-
ered from that interesting relic of literary autobiography,
the final chorus to the latter play. No theory respecting
the history of the former dramas is wholly free from
embarrassing perplexities, but that which best agrees with
the positive evidences is that which concedes the author-
ship of the three plays to Shakespeare, their production
to the year 1592, and the quarto editions of the second and
63
Life WILLIAM
third parts as vamped, imperfect, and blundering versions
of the poet's own original dramas.
The Groatsworth of Wit was published very soon after
the unfortunate writer's decease, that is to say, it appeared
towards the end of September, 1592 ; and it is clear that
one portion of it had been composed under the influence
of a profound jealousy of Shakespeare. Greene is ad-
dressing his fellow-dramatists, and speaking of the actors
of their plays, thus introduces his satirical observations
on the author of the Third Part of Hen/ry the Sixth,
with a travesty of the line above mentioned, — "trust them
not, for there is an upstart crow, beautified with our feath-
ers, that, with his Tygers heart wrapt in a Players hide,
supposes he is as well able to bumbast out a blanke verse
as the best of you ; and being an absolute Johannes facto-
tum, is, in his owne conceit, the onely Shake-scene in a
countrie." It was natural that these impertinent remarks
should have annoyed the object of them, and that they
were so far effective may be gathered from an interest-
ing statement made by the editor, Henry Chettle, in a work
of his own, entitled Kind-Heart's Dream, that he pub-
lished a few weeks afterward, in which he specially re-
grets that the attack had proved offensive to Shakespeare,
whom, he observes, — "at that time I did not so much spare
as since I wish I had, for that, as I have moderated tlie
heate of living writers, and might have usde my owne dis-
cretion, especially in such a case, the author beeing dead,
that I did not I am as sory as if the originall fault had
becne my fault, because myselfe have seene his demeanor
no lesse civill than he exelent in the qualitie he professes;
besides, divers of worship have reported his uprightnes of
dealing, which argues his honesty, and his facetious grace
64
SHAKESPEARE Life
in writting, that aprooves his art." Apologies of this
kind are so apt to be overstrained that we can hardly
gather more from the present one than the respectable
position Shakespeare held as a writer and actor, and that
Chettle, having made his acquaintance, was desirous of
keeping friends with one who was beginning to be appreci-
ated by the higher classes of society. The annoyance,
however, occasioned by Greene's posthumous criticism was
soon, forgotten by the poet amid the triumphs of his sub-
sequent career.
Removing now the scene of our fragmentary history
from the metropolis to the country, we find, at the time
of Greene's lampoonry, the poet's father busily engaged
with his counters in appraising the goods of one Henry
Field, a tanner of Stratford-on-Avon, whose inventory,
attached to his will, was taken in August, 1592. This
tradesman's son, Richard, who was apprenticed to a printer
in London in the year 1579, took up his freedom in 1587,
and soon aftenvards commenced business on his own ac-
count, an elegant copy of Ovid's Metamorphoses, 1589,
being among the numerous works that issued from his
press. It is most likely, indeed all but certain, that Shake-
speare participated in his father's acquaintance with the
printer's relatives, and at all events there was the provin-
cial tie, so specially dear to Englishmen when at a dis-
tance from the town of their birth, between the poet and
Richard Field. When, therefore, the latter is discovered,
early in the year 1593, engaged in the production of Vemis
and Adonis, it is only reasonable to infer that the author
had a control over the typographical arrangements. The
purity of the text and the nature of the dedication may
be thought to strengthen this opinion, and although poems
65
Life WILLIAM
were not then generally introduced to the public in the
same glowing terms usually accorded to dramatic pieces,
the singularly brief and anonymous title-page does not
bear the appearance of a publisher's handywork. Field,
however, registered the copyright to himself on April 18,
and the work was offered for sale, at the White Greyhound
in St. Paul's Churchyard, by his friend, John Harrison,
the publisher of the first three editions, and who next year
became the owner both of the Vemis and Lucrece. It may
be well to record that the publication had what was prob-
ably the vicarious sanction of no less an individual than
the Archbishop of Canterbury, who, although no Puritan,
would scarcely have considered its exquisite versification
suflScient to atone for its voluptuous character.
The poem of Vemn and Adords, which was favorably
received and long continued to be the most popular book
of the kind, is termed by the author "the first heir of my
invention.'* If these words are to be literally interpreted,
it must have been written in or before the year 1592; but
Shakespeare may be referring only to works of a strictly
poetical character, which were then held in far higher esti-
mation than dramatic compositions. However that may
be, the oft-repeated belief that Vemis a/nd Adonis was a
production of his younger days at Stratford-on-Avon can
hardly be sustained. It is extremely improbable that an
epic, so highly finished and so completely devoid of patois,
could have been produced under the circumstances of his
then domestic surroundings, while, moreover, the notion is
opposed to the best and earliest traditional opinions. It is
also to be observed that there is nothing in the dedication
in favor of such a conjecture, although the fact, had it
been one, would have formed a ready and natural defense
66
SHAKESPEARE Life
against the writer's obvious timidity. The work was in-
scribed, apparently without permission, to Lord Southamp-
ton, a young nobleman then only in his twentieth year, wiio
about this time had commenced to exhibit a special dispo-
sition to encourage the rising authors of the metropolis.
Literature, in Shakespeare's time, was nearly the only
passport of the lower and middle class to the countenance
and friendship of the great. It was no wonder that the
poet, in days when interest was all but omnipotent, should
have wished to secure the advantages that could hardly
fail to be derived from a special association with an indi-
vidual in the favored position, and with the exceptionally
generous character, of Lord Southampton. Wealthy, ac-
complished and romantic, — with a temperament that could
listen to a metrical narrative of the follies of Venus with-
out yielding to hysterics, — the young nobleman was pre-
sumably the most eligible dedicatee that Shakespeare could
have desired for the introduction of his first poem to the
literary world. It is evident, however, that, when he was
penning the inscription to Venu^ and Adonis, whatever pre-
sentiment he may have entertained on the subject, he was
by no means sure that his lordship would give a friendly
reception to, much less so that he would be gratified by,
the intended compliment. But all doubts upon these points
were speedily removed, and little more than a twelvemonth
elapsed before the poet is found warmly attached to Lord
Southampton, and eagerly taking the opportunity, in his
second address, of tendering his gratitude for favors con-
ferred in the interval.
In the winter season of 1593-4, Shakespeare's earliest
tragedy, which was, unfortunately, based on a repulsive
tale, was brought out by the Earl of Sussex's actors, who
67
Life WILLIAM
were then performing, after a tour in the provinces, at
one of the Surrey theaters. They were either hired by,
or playing under some financial arrangement with, Hens-
lowe, who, after the representation of a number of revivals,
ventured upon the production of a drama on the story of
Titus Andronicus, the only new play introduced during
the season. This tragedy, having been successfully pro-
duced before a large audience on January 23, 1594, was
shortly afterward entered on the books of the Stationers'
Company and published by Danter. It was also per-
formed, almost if not quite simultaneously, by the serv-
ants of the Earls of Derby and Pembroke. Thus it ap-
pears that Shakespeare, up to this period, had written all
his dramas for Henslowe, and that they were acted, under
the sanction of that manager, by the various companies
performing from 1592 to 1594 at the Rose Theater and
Newington Butts. The acting copies of Titus Andronicus
and the three parts of Henry the Sia:th must of course have
been afterwards transferred by Henslowe to the Lord
Chamberlain's company.
Hideous and repulsive as the story of Tamora and
the Andronici is now considered, it was anything but re-
pugnant to the taste of the general public in Henslowe's
day. Neither was it regarded as out of the pale of the
legitimate drama by the most cultivated, otherwise so able
a scholar and critic as Meres would hardly, several years
after the appearance of Titus Andronicus, have inserted
its title among those of the noteworthy tragedies of Shake-
speare. The audiences of Elizabeth's time reveled in the
very crudity of the horrible, so much so that nearly every
kind of bodily torture and mutilation, or even more revolt-
ing incidents, formed part of the stock business of the
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SHAKESPEARE Life
theater. Murders were in special request in all kinds of
serious dramas. Wilson, one of Lord Leicester's servants,
was thought in 1581 to be just the person to write a play
then urgently desired, which was not only to "be original
and amusing," but was also to include "plenty of mys-
tery," and "be full of all sorts of murders, immorality, and
robberies." Nor was the taste for the predominance of the
worst kind of sensational incidents restricted to the pub-
lic stage, as any one may see who will care to peruse the
Misfortunes of Arthur, produced with gi*eat flourish by
the students of Gray's Inn in 1588. This deplorable fancy
was nearly in its zenith at the time of the appearance
of Titus Androiiicus. In the same year, 1594), there was
published the Tragicall Raigne of Sellmus, Emperour of
the Turkes, a composition offering similar attractions, but
the writer was so afraid of his massacres being considered
too insipid, he thus reveals his misgivings to the audience, —
"If this First Part, gentles, do like you well,
The Second Part shall greater murders tell."
The character of the theatrical speculations of Henslowe
was obviously influenced, in common with that of nearly
all managers, by the current tastes of the public, and, in
an age like the one now spoken of, is it wonderful that
he should have considered the story of Titus Andronicus
a fit theme for the dramatist.'' Is it also marvelous that
Shakespeare, a young author then struggling into position,
should not have felt it his duty, on aesthetic grounds, to
reject an off^er the acceptance of which invited no hostile
criticism, while it opened out a prospect of material ad-
vantages.'^ Hcnslowe's judgment, regulated by thoughts
of the money-box, not by those of attempted reforms of
Shk-l-4 QQ
Life WILLIAM
the drama, were no doubt in his own opinion amply
justified by the result. A certain deference to the ex-