of Shakespeare: " but the latter part is in every respect so inferior, that we rise from a perusal of the whole with a feeling akin to disappointment. If the dialogue has little poetry, it has often great force of expression.-That Shakespeare was well acquainted with this tragedy cannot be doubted; but that he caught from it more than a few trifling hints for The Merchant of Venice will be allowed by no one who has carefully compared the character of Barabas with that of Shylock.†-An alteration of The Jew of Malta was brought out at Drury-lane Theatre in 1818, when Kean was in the zenith of his fame, and, owing to his exertions in Barabas, it was very favourably received. Warton incidentally mentions that Marlowe's Edward the Second was written in the year 1590;" and, for all we know, he may have made the assertion on sufficient grounds, though he has neglected to specify them. Mr. Collier, who regards it (and, no doubt, rightly) as one of our author's latest pieces, has not attempted to fix its date. It was entered in the Stationers' Books 6th July 1593, and first printed in 1598. From that heaviness, which prevails more or less in all "chronicle histories" anterior to those of Shakespeare, this tragedy is not quite free; its crowded incidents do not always follow each other without confusion; and it has few of those "raptures," for which Marlowe is eulogized by one of his contemporaries. § But, taken as a whole, it is the most perfect of his plays; there is no overdoing of character, no turgidity of language. On the two scenes which give the chief interest to this drama Lamb remarks; "the reluctant pangs of abdicating royalty in Edward furnished hints which Shakespeare scarce improved in his Richard the Second; and the death-scene of Marlowe's king moves pity and terror beyond any scene ancient or modern with which I am acquainted." || The excellence of both scenes is indisputable; but a more fastidious critic than Lamb might perhaps justly object to such an exhibition of physical suffering as the latter scene affords. The Massacre at Paris was, we are sure, composed after August 2nd, 1589, when Henry the Third, with whose death it terminates, expired in consequence of the wound he had received from Jaques Clément the preceding day. On the *Introd. to the Lit. of Europe, ii. 170, ed. 1843. + See a considerable number of what have been called the "parallel passages" of these two plays in the Appendix to Waldron's edition, and very ingenious continuation, of Jonson's Sad Shepherd, p. 209. Hist. of Engl. Poet. iii. 438, ed. 4to. § See the lines by Drayton quoted in p. liii of this memoir. Spec. of Engl. Dram. Poets, p. 28, ed. 1808. "The Jew of Malta contains, in its original prologue, spoken by Machiavel, an allusion to The Massacre at Paris, which had preceded it." Hist. of Engl. Dram. Poet. iii. 135. But when Mr. Collier made this remark, he had not yet seen Henslowe's MSS. and as to the words in question, "now the Guise is dead,"-they only shew that The Jew of Malta was written after the death of the Duke of Guise. entry in Henslowe's Diary,-" Rd at the tragedey of the guyes [Guise] 30 [January, 1593*]..... iijs. . . . iiijs,"-Mr. Collier observes, "In all probability Marlowe's Massacre at Paris. This entry is valuable, supposing it to apply to Marlowe's tragedy, because it ascertains the day it was first acted, Henslowe having placed ne [i. e. new] in the margin. It was perhaps Marlowe's last play, as he was killed about six months afterwards." Henslowe has several later entries concerning the performance of the same piece (which he also designates The Massacre); but probably, when he notices "the Guise" under the year 1598,† he refers to a revival of the tragedy with additions and alterations.-It appears that in the play as originally written, the character of Guise was supported by Alleyn.-The Massacre at Paris was printed without date (perhaps about 1595 or 1596), either from a copy taken down, during representation, by some unskilful and ignorant short-hand-writer, or from a very imperfect transcript which had belonged to one of the theatres. It would be rash to decide on the merits of a play which we possess only with a text both cruelly mutilated § and abounding in corruptions; I strongly suspect, however, that The Massacre at Paris, even in its pristine state, was the very worst of Marlowe's dramas. We must now turn from his works to the personal history of Marlowe.—It is not to be doubted that by this time he had become acquainted with most of those who, like himself, were dramatists by profession; and there can be little doubt too that beyond their circle (which, of course, included the actors) he had formed few intimacies. Though the demand for theatrical novelties was then incessant, plays were scarcely recognized as literature, and the dramatists were regarded as men who held a rather low rank in society: the authors of pieces which had delighted thousands were generally looked down upon by the grave substantial citizens, and seldom presumed to approach the mansions of the aristocracy but as clients in humble attendance on the bounty of their patrons. Unfortunately, the discredit which attached to dramatic writing as an occupation was greatly increased by the habits of those who pursued it a few excepted, they were improvident, It is quite manifest, both from what precedes and what follows in the Diary, that Henslowe (who was an egregious blunderer) ought to have written here "1592," i. e. 1592-3 (see Diary, p. 30, ed. Shake. Soc.); and with that date the entry has been given by Malone, Shakespeare, by Boswell, iii. 299, as well as by Mr. Collier, Hist. of Engl. Dram. Poet. iii. 132. "Lent Wm Birde, alias Borne, the 27 of novembr [1598], to bye a payer of sylke stockens, to playe the Gwisse in }xx"." "Lent unto W Borne, the 19 of novembr, 1598, upon a longe taney clocke of clothe, the some of xijs, wch he sayd yt was to Imbrader his hatte for the Gwisse }xij." Diary, pp. 110, 113., ed. Shake. Soc. At a later date Webster wrote a drama (now lost) which was called The Guise, and which is more likely to have been an original work than one founded upon Marlowe's tragedy. In an inventory of theatrical apparel belonging to Alleyn is "hose [i. e. breeches] . . . . for the Guises." Collier's Mem. of Alleyn, p. 21. § See note*, p. 239. unprincipled, and dissolute,—now rioting in taverns and "ordinaries" on the profits of a successful play, and now lurking in the haunts of poverty till the completion of another drama had enabled them to resume their revels.-At a somewhat later period, indeed, a decided improvement appears to have taken place in the morals of our dramatic writers: and it is by no means improbable that the high respectability of character which was maintained by Shakespeare and Jonson may have operated very beneficially, in the way of example, on the play-wrights around them.—But among those of superior station there was at least one person with whom Marlowe lived on terms of intimacy: the publisher of his posthumous fragment, Hero and Leander, was induced to dedicate it "to the right worshipful Sir Thomas Walsingham, knight,"t because he had "bestowed upon the author many kind favours, entertaining the parts of reckoning and worth which he found in him with good countenance and liberal affection." Nor is this the only proof extant that Sir Thomas Walsingham cultivated a familiarity with the dramatists of his day; for to him, as to his "long-loved and honourable friend," Chapman has inscribed by a sonnet the comedy of Al Fooles, 1605.§ Among the play-wrights of the time, Robert Greene was far from the meanest in the estimation of his contemporaries. The ill-will which he appears to have borne to Marlowe || when the latter first rose into public favour, had most probably passed away long before the period at which we are now arrived; and we may conclude that they eventually kept up a friendly intercourse with each other, undisturbed by any expression of uneasiness on the part of Greene at Marlowe's acknowledged preeminence. The wretched Greene, reduced to utter beggary, and abandoned by the companions of his festive hours, expired at the house of a poor shoemaker near Dowgate on the 3rd of September 1592;¶ and soon after his decease, his Groatsworth of Wit bought with a million of Repentance was given to the public by Henry Chettle, one of the minor dramatic and miscellaneous writers of the day. The following "Address," which occurs towards the conclusion of that tract, has been frequently *The author of The Atheist's Tragedie has not failed to notice such vicissitudes of fortune in Marlowe's case; "A poet was he of repute, Then begging by the way." See Appendix I. to this volume. Sir Thomas Walsingham, knight, of Chesilhurst in Kent. He married Elizabeth, eldest daughter of Sir Peter Manwood, Knight of the Bath (see ante, note ‡, p. xiii), and died in 1630, aged 69. See Thorpe's Registrum Roffense, p. 933, and Hasted's Hist. of Kent, i. 99. See p. 277. § This poetical dedication is found, I believe, in only a single copy of the play. See ante, note ‡, p. xv. For various other particulars, see the Account of Greene, &c., p. lxxii. sqq., prefixed to his Dram. Works, &'c., ed. Dyce. reprinted but it is a document which must not be omitted in any biography of Marlowe :- "To those Gentlemen his quondam acquaintaince, that spend their wits in making playes, R. G. wisheth a better exercise, and wisedome to preuent his extremities. * "If wofull experience may mooue you, gentlemen, to beware, or vnheard-of wretchednes intreat you to take heed, I doubt not but you will look backe with sorrow on your time past, and endeuour with repentance.to spend that which is to come. Wonder not (for with thee will I first beginne), thou famous gracer of tragedians [i. e. Marlowe], that Green, who hath said with thee, like the foole in his heart, 'There is no God,' should now giue glorie vnto his greatnesse; for penetrating is his power, his hand lyes heauy vpon me, he hath spoken vnto me with a voyce of thunder, and I haue felt he is a God that can punish enemies. Why should thy excellent wit, his gift, be so blinded that thou shouldest giue no glory to the giuer? Is it pestilent Machiuilian policie that thou hast studied? O peevisht follie! what are his rules but meere confused mockeries, able to extirpate in small time the generation of mankinde? for if sic volo, sic iubeo, holde in those that are able to commaund, and if it be lawfull fas et nefas, to doo any thing that is beneficiall, onely tyrants should possesse the earth, and they, striuing to exceed in tiranny, should ech to other be a slaughterman, till, the mightyest outliuing all, one stroke were left for Death, that in one age mans life should end. The brocher‡ of this dyabolicall atheisme is dead, and in his life had neuer the felicitie he aymed at, but, as he beganne in craft, liued in feare, and ended in dispaire. Quam inscrutabilia sunt Dei judicia! This murderer of many brethren had his conscience seared like Cayne; this betrayer of him that gaue his life for him inherited the portion of Judas; this apostata perished as ill as Julian: and wilt thou, my friend, be his disciple? Looke vnto mee, by him perswaded to that libertie, and thou shalt finde it an infernall bondage. I know the least of my demerits merit this miserable death; but wilfull striuing against knowne truth exceedeth all the terrors of my soule. Deferre not (with mee) till this last point of extremitie; for little knowest thou how in the end thou shalt be visited. “With thee I ioyne young Iuuenall [i. e. Lodge], that byting satyrist, that lastly§ * felt] Old ed. “left." + peevish] Old ed. "punish" (the compositor's eye having perhaps caught that word from the preceding sentence). brocher] Old ed. "Brother.". "Probably Francis Kett, A. M., of Winmondham in Norfolk, who was bred at Benet College in Cambridge, and was chosen fellow 1573. In February 1589 he was burnt at Norwich for holding detestable opinions against Christ." MS. Note by Malone. § lastly] Qy. "lately"? Lodge's talent as a satirist may be seen in his Fig for Momus, 1595. The "comedie" which he composed in conjunction with Greene, is A Looking Glasse for London and England (reprinted in Greene's Dram. Works, &c., ed. Dyce).—Malone observes: "Dr. Farmer is of opinion that the second person addressed by Greene is not Lodge, but Nashe, who is often called Juvenal by the writers of that time; but that he was not meant, is decisively proved by the extract from Chettle's with mee together writ a comedie. Sweet boy, might I aduise thee, be aduised, and get not many enemies by bitter words: inueigh against vaine men, for thou canst doo it, no man better, no man so well; thou hast a libertie to reprooue all and name none; for one being spoken to, all are offended,-none beeing blamed, no man is iniuried. Stop shallow water still running, it will rage; tread on a worme, and it will turne; then blame not schollers who are vexed with sharpe and bitter lines, if they reprooue thy too much liberty of reproofe. "And thou [i. e. Peele] no lesse deseruing then the other two, in some things rarer, in nothing inferiour, driuen (as myselfe) to extreame shifts, a little haue I to say to thee; and, were it not an idolatrous oath, I would sweare by sweet S. George thou art vnworthy better hap, sith thou dependest on so meane a stay. Base-minded men all three of you, if by my misery yee bee not warned; for vnto none of you (like me) sought those burs to cleaue; those puppits, I meane, that speake from our mouths, those anticks garnisht in our colours. Is it not strange that I to whome they all haue bin beholding, is it not like that you to whom they all haue bin beholding, shall, were yee in that case that I am now, be both of them at once forsaken? Yes, trust them not; for there is an vpstart crow *[i. e. Shakespeare] beautified with our feathers, that, with his Tygres heart wrapt in a players hyde, supposes hee is as well able to bombast out a blanke-verse as the best of you; and, beeing an absolute Johannes-fac-totum, is in his owne conceyt the onely Shake-scene in a countrey. Oh, that I might intreat your rare wittes to bee imployed in more profitable courses, and let these apes imitate your past excellence, and neuer more acquaynte them with your admyred inuentions! I knowe the best husband of you all will neuer prooue an vsurer, and the kindest of them all will neuer prooue a kinde nurse: yet, whilst you may, seeke you better maisters; for it is pitty men of such rare wits should bee subiect to the pleasures of such rude groomes. "In this I might insert two more that both haue writte against these buckram gentlemen: but let their owne worke serue to witnesse against theyr owne wickednesse, if they perseuer to maintaine any more such peasants. For other new commers, I leave them to the mercie of these painted monsters, who, I doubt not, will driue the best-minded to despise them: for the rest, it skills not though they make a ieast at them. "But now returne I again to you three, knowing my miserie is to you no newes; and let me heartilie intreate you to be warned by my harmes. Delight not, as I haue done, in irreligious oaths, for from the blasphemers house a curse shall not depart. pamphlet [see p. xxx. of this Memoir]; for he [Chettle] never would have laboured to vindicate Nashe from being the writer of the Groatsworth of Wit, if any part of it had been professedly addressed to him. Besides, Lodge had written a play in conjunction with Greene, called A Looking-Glass for London and England, and was author of some satirical pieces; but we do not know that Nashe and Greene had ever written in conjunction." Life of Shakespeare, p. 307, ed. 1821. * This allusion to Shakespeare will be particularly noticed in a later part of the present memoir. |