Chapter 2 of 38 · 4000 words · ~20 min read

Part 2

“Right Honourable,—His Majesty having received satisfaction in your Lordships’ endeavours, and in the signification thereof to him by yours of the 21st of this present, hath commanded me to signify the same to you. And to add further, that his pleasure is, that your Lordships examine by whose direction and application the personating of Gondomar and others was done; and that being found out, the party or parties to be severely punished, his Majesty being unwilling for one’s sake and only fault to punish the innocent or utterly to ruin the company. The discovery on what party his Majesty’s justice is properly and duly to fall, and your execution of it and the account to be returned thereof, his Majesty leaves to your Lordships’ wisdoms and care. And this being that I have in charge, continuing the humble offer of my service and duty to the attendance of your commandments, &c. From Woodstock, the 27th August, 1624.”

The preceding correspondence was originally printed by the late George Chalmers:[24] the following “Letter to the Lords of the Counsell from my Lord Chamberlain about the Players,” indorsed “27 August 1624,” is now for the first time published.[25]

“To the right honᵇˡᵉ my very good Lord, the Lord Viscount Maundeville, Lord President of his Majesty’s most honᵇˡᵉ Privy Counsell, theis.

My very good Lord

Complaynt being made unto his Majesty against the Company of his Comedians, for acting publiquely a Play knowne by the name of a Game at Chesse, contayning some passages in it reflecting in matter of scorne and ignominy upon the King of Spaine, some of his Ministers and others of good note and quality, his Majesty out of the tender regard hee had of that King’s honor and those of his Ministers who were conceived to bee wounded thereby, caused his letters to bee addressed to my Lords and the rest of his most honᵇˡᵉ Privy Council, thereby requiring them to convent those his Comedians before them, and to take such course with them for this offence as might give best satisfaction to the Spanish Ambassador and to their owne Honnors. After examination that honᵇˡᵉ Board thought fitt not onely to interdict them playing of that play, but of any other also, untill his Majesty should give way unto them. And for their obedience hereunto they weare bound in 300^{li} bondes. Which punishment when they had suffered (as his Majesty conceives) a competent tyme, upon their petition delivered heere unto him, it pleased his Majesty to comaund mee to lett your Lordship understand (which I pray your Lordship to impart to the rest of that honᵇˡᵉ Board) that his Majesty now conceives the punishment, if not satisfactory for that their insolency, yet such as since it stopps the current of their poore livelyhood and mainteanance, without much prejudice they cannot longer undergoe. In consideration therefore of those his poore servants, his Majesty would have their Lordships connive at any common play lycensed by authority, that they shall act as before. As for this of the Game at Chesse, that it bee not onely antiquated and sylenced, but the Players bound as formerly they weare, and in that point onely never to act it agayne. Yet nothwithstanding that my Lords proceed in their disquisition to fynd out the originall roote of this offence, whether it sprang from the Poet, Players, or both, and to certefy his Majesty accordingly. And so desireing your Lordship to take this into your consideration, and them into your care, I rest

Yoʳ Loᵖˢ most affectionate Cousin to serve you, PEMBROKE.”

An entry in the Council-register of the 30th August, 1624, declares: “This day Edward [Thomas] Middleton of London, gent. being formerly sent for by warrant from this board, tendred his appearance, wherefor his indemnitie is here entered into the register of counceil causes: nevertheless he is enjoyned to attend the board till he be discharged by order of their Lordships.”[26]

A copy of _A Game at Chess_, which formerly belonged to Major Pearson, contains, in an old hand, the following memorandum:[27]

“After nyne dayse wherein I have heard some of the acters say they tooke fiveteene hundred Pounde the Spanish faction being prevalent gott it supprest the chiefe actors and the Poett Mr. Thomas Middleton that writt it committed to prisson where hee lay some Tyme and at last gott oute upon this petition presented to King James

A harmles game: coynd only for delight was playd betwixt the black house and the white the white house wan: yet still the black doth bragg they had the power to put mee in the bagge use but your royall hand. Twill set mee free Tis but removing of a man thats mee.”

The writer is doubtless mistaken as to the amount of money received at the doors of the theatre.[28] What he states concerning the imprisonment of Middleton, &c. seems to be disproved by the authentic documents already given; and Mr. Collier (who has not noticed the latter part of the memorandum) remarks, that “the reason why no punishment [except the interdiction from acting] was inflicted, either upon the players or poet, was perhaps that they had acted the piece under the authority of the Master of the Revels.”[29]

In a letter by Howel from Madrid, addressed to Sir John North, there is an evident allusion to Middleton’s notorious drama: “I am sorry to hear how other Nations do much tax the English of their Incivility to public Ministers of State; and what Ballads and Pasquils and Fopperies and Plays were made against Gondamar for doing his Masters business.”[30] And in _The Staple of News_, by Ben Jonson, acted 1625, may be found a humorous but rather gross passage about Gondomar and “the poor English play was writ of him.”[31]

_The Triumphs of Health and Prosperity_, 1626, was the last piece composed by Middleton for the entertainment of the city; and it was also, perhaps, the last effort of his pen.

That in 1623 he resided at Newington Butts,[32] has been already shewn; and that there he died, is proved by an entry which I now cite from the Register of the parish-church;

“In Julye 1627 Mr. Thomas Middleton was buried the ... 4[th].”

The following lines have been frequently adduced as a testimony that our author was far advanced in years at the time of his decease; but I have little doubt that they are the invention of Chetwood, who on other occasions is known to have been a most expert and impudent forger:

“Tom Middleton his numerous issue brings, And his last Muse delights us when she sings; His halting age a pleasure doth impart, And his white locks shew Master of his Art.”[33]

Middleton appears to have left no will; nor is it likely that he had any property to bequeath, since, some months after his death, a petition for pecuniary assistance was addressed by his widow to the City:

“Jovis septimo die Februarii 1627 [-8] Anno RRs Caroli Angliæ &c. tertio.

Hamersly Mayor. Item: this daie upon the humble peticion of Rep. No. 42. f. 89. Magdalen[34] Middleton Widdowe late Wife of Thomas Middleton deceased late Chronologer of this Cittie it is ordered by this Court that Mr. Chamberlen shall paie unto her as of the guifte of this Court the some of Twentie Nobles.”[35]

The Register above cited contains an entry which in all probability refers to her:

“July 1628 “Mrs. Midelton buried the ... xviii day.”

Concerning the poet’s son Edward, who, as we have seen[36] was aged nineteen in 1623, I have not succeeded in obtaining any further

## particulars.

The portrait of Middleton (without the engraver’s name) prefixed to _Two New Playes_, 1657, and copied for the present work, is the only one extant; but whether it conveys a true idea of his personal appearance, cannot be determined.

Malone informs us, that “Drayton has commended Middleton;”[37] and though I have searched in vain for the eulogy to which he alludes, it may nevertheless exist. I shall here throw together the few notices of our author by his contemporaries which I have been able to collect.

In Howes’s Continuation of Stow’s _Annales_, 1615, he is included in a list of the Elizabethan poets, which, because I do not remember to have seen it formerly quoted, I subjoin entire:

“Our moderne and present excellent Poets which worthely florish in their owne workes, and all of them in my owne knowledge liued togeather in this Queenes raigne, according to their priorities as neere as I could, I haue orderly set downe (viz.) George Gascoigne Esquire, Thomas Church- yard Esquire, sir Edward Dyer knight, Edmond Spencer Esquire, sir Philip Sidney knight, Sir John Harrington knight, Sir Thomas Challoner knight, Sir Frauncis Bacon knight, and Sir John Dauie[s] knight, Master John Lillie gentleman, Maister George Chapman gentleman, M. W. Warner gentleman, M. Willi. Shakespeare gentleman, Samuell Daniell Esquire, Michaell Draiton Esquire, of the bath, M. Christopher Marlo gen. M. Beniamine Johnson gentleman, John Marston Esquier, M. Abraham Frauncis [Fraunce] gen. master Frauncis Meers gentle. master Josua Siluester gentle. master Thomas Deckers gentleman, M. John Flecher gentle. M. John Webster gentleman, M. Thomas Heywood gentleman, M. Thomas Middelton gentleman, M. George Withers. These following were Latine Poets. Master Gaulter Hadon gentleman, Master Nicholas Carr gentleman, M. Christopher Ocland gentle. Mathew Gwynn doctor of Phisicke, Thomas Lodge doctor of phisike, M. Tho. Watson gentle. Thomas Campion doctor of Phisicke, Richard Lateware doctor of diuinitie, M. Brunswerd gentleman, Master doctor Haruie, and master Willey gentleman.”[38]

In the record of Jonson’s “Conversations at Hawthornden in 1619,” our poet is thus contemptuously mentioned: “That Markam (who added his English Arcadia) was not of the number of the Faithfull, _i. e._ _Poets_, and but a base fellow. That such were Day and Middleton.”[39] There can be no doubt that Ben was strongly possessed by the humour of disparaging, when he chose to couple Middleton with writers so inferior.

In _The Praise of Hempseed_, 1620, by Taylor the water-poet, these lines occur:

“And many there are liuing at this day Which doe in paper their true worth display: As Dauis, Drayton, and the learned Dun, Johnson, and Chapman, Marston, Middleton, With Rowley, Fletcher, Withers, Massinger, Heywood, and all the rest where e’re they are, Must say their lines but for the paper sheete Had scarcely ground whereon to set their feete.”[40]

In _The Hierarchie of the blessed Angels_, 1635, by Heywood, there is a curious passage concerning the disrespectful curtailment of the baptismal names of modern poets, which will probably be new to many readers:

“Greene, who had in both Academies ta’ne Degree of Master, yet could neuer gaine To be call’d more than Robin: who had he Profest ought saue the Muse, serv’d, and been free After a seuen-yeares Prentiseship, might haue (With credit too) gone Robert to his graue. Marlo, renown’d for his rare art and wit, Could ne’re attaine beyond the name of Kit; Although his Hero and Leander did Merit addition rather. Famous Kid Was call’d but Tom. Tom Watson, though he wrote Able to make Apollo’s selfe to dote Vpon his Muse, for all that he could striue, Yet neuer could to his full name arriue. Tom Nash (in his time of no small esteeme) Could not a second syllable redeeme. Excellent Bewmont, in the formost ranke Of the rar’st Wits, was neuer more than Franck. Mellifluous Shakespeare, whose inchanting Quill Commanded Mirth or Passion, was but Will. And famous Johnson, though his learned Pen Be dipt in Castaly, is still but Ben. Fletcher and Webster, of that learned packe None of the mean’st, yet neither was but Jacke. Decker’s but Tom; nor May, nor Middleton. And hee’s now but Jacke Foord that once were [was] John.”[41]

I may add, that in a work of later date, _Wit’s Recreations_, is the following “epigram:”[42]

“TO MR. THOMAS MIDDLETON.

Facetious Middleton, thy witty Muse Hath pleased all that books or men peruse. If any thee dispise, he doth but show Antipathy to wit in daring so: Thy fam’s above his malice, and ’twill be Dispraise enough for him to censure thee.”

Three of our author’s pieces are recorded to have been performed after the Restoration, _A Trick to catch the Old One_, _The Widow_, and _The Changeling_; but at the commencement of the eighteenth century his writings may be considered as forgotten.

The publication of Dodsley’s _Old Plays_[43] in 1744 had some effect in reviving the faded reputation of Middleton; and in 1778 his name was made still more familiar to the literary world, when copies of _The Witch_, printed from a MS. in the possession of Major Pearson,[44] were circulated by Isaac Reed. Besides the less important discovery that D’Avenant had availed himself of this drama in his alteration of _Macbeth_,[45] it was evident that the resemblance between the scenes of enchantment in _The Witch_, and those in Shakespeare’s tragedy as originally written, must have been more than accidental. Steevens maintained that Shakespeare was the imitator. Malone at first coincided in that opinion; but receding from it at a later period of life, he endeavoured to establish by a lengthy dissertation that the performance of _Macbeth_ (which he fixes in 1606[46]), was anterior to that of _The Witch_; and though his reasoning appears to me very far from convincing, I am by no means disposed to assert that the conclusion at which he has so laboriously arrived is not the right one.[47] Gifford, indeed, has unhesitatingly pronounced that Shakespeare was the copyist;[48] but, notwithstanding the respect which I entertain for that critic, his incidental remarks on the present question have little weight with me: he has assigned no grounds for his decision; he had not, I apprehend, considered the subject with much attention; and on two occasions at least, he appears to have alluded to it chiefly for the sake of giving additional force to the blows which he happened to be aiming at the luckless “commentators.” As Shakespeare undoubtedly possessed the creative power in its utmost perfection, and as no satisfactory evidence has been adduced to shew that _The Witch_ was acted at an earlier period than _Macbeth_, he must not be hastily accused of imitation. Yet since he is known to have frequently remodelled the works of other writers, it may be urged, that when he had to introduce witches into his tragedy, he would hardly scruple to borrow from our author’s play[49] as much as suited his immediate purpose. But, after all, there is an essential difference[50] between the hags of Shakespeare and of Middleton; and whichever of the two may have been the copyist, he owes so little to his brother-poet, that the debt will not materially affect his claim to originality. Concerning the tragi-comedy _The Witch_, I have only to add, that its merit consists entirely in the highly imaginative pictures of the preternatural agents, in their incantations, and their moonlight revelry: the rest of it rises little above mediocrity.

In the estimation of an anonymous critic, _Women beware Women_ is “Middleton’s finest play,”[51] and perhaps he has judged rightly. It is indeed remarkable for the masterly conception and delineation of the chief characters, and for the life and reality infused into many of the scenes; though the dramatis personæ are almost all repulsive from their extreme depravity, and the catastrophe is rather forced and unnatural. In this tragedy, says Hazlitt, there is “a rich marrowy vein of internal sentiment, with fine occasional insight into human nature, and cool cutting irony of expression.”[52] To his subsequent observation, that “the interest decreases, instead of increasing, as we read on,” I by no means assent.

_The Changeling_ affords another specimen of Middleton’s tragic powers. If on the whole inferior to the piece last mentioned, it displays, I think, in several places, a depth of passion unequalled throughout the present volumes. According to the title-page, William Rowley, who was frequently his literary associate, had a share in the composition; but I feel convinced that the terribly impressive passages of this tragedy, as well as those serious portions of _A Fair Quarrel_ which Lamb has deservedly praised, and the pleasing characters of Clara and Constanza in _The Spanish Gipsy_, are beyond the ability of Rowley.

Among our author’s works there are few more original and ingenious than _A Game at Chess_. By touches of sweet fancy, by quaint humour, and by poignant satire, he redeems the startling absurdities in which the plan of the drama had necessarily involved him.

Middleton’s “principal efforts,” says an accomplished writer, “were in comedy, where he deals profusely in grossness and buffoonery. The cheats and debaucheries of the town are his favourite sources of comic intrigue.”[53] _A Mad World, my Masters_, and _A Trick to catch the Old One_, are the most perfect of the numerous comedies which Mr. Campbell has dismissed with so slight and unfavourable a notice; and next to them may be ranked _The Roaring Girl_,[54] _A Chaste Maid in Cheapside_, _Michaelmas Term_, and _No Wit, no Help like a Woman’s_. The dialogue of these pieces is generally spirited; the characters, though their peculiarities may be sometimes exaggerated, are drawn with breadth and discrimination; and the crowded incidents afford so much amusement, that the reader is willing to overlook the occasional violation of probability. As they faithfully reflect the manners and customs of the age, even the worst of Middleton’s comedies[55] are not without their value.

A critic, whom I have already quoted, after observing that “it is difficult to assign Middleton any precise station among the remarkable men who were his contemporaries,”[56] proceeds to compare him with Webster and Ford, who were assuredly poets of a higher order. The dramatists with whom, in my opinion, Middleton ought properly to be classed—though superior to him in some respects and inferior in others—are Dekker, Heywood, Marston, and Chapman: nor perhaps does William Rowley fall so much below them that he should be excluded from the list.

ADDENDA AND CORRIGENDA.

ADDENDA AND CORRIGENDA.

In the first volume, and in the greater part of the second volume, I marked the deviations from the old editions with a minuteness which I afterwards saw to be unnecessary; and throughout the remainder of the work I accordingly abandoned that system of annotation.

THE OLD LAW.

Vol. i. p. 23, line 2.

“_Not_ fainting,”

Read

“_Nor_ fainting.”

Vol. i. p. 28, l. 4.

_pan’d hose_] Are, I believe, more correctly described by Gifford as “breeches composed of small squares or pannels.” Note on Massinger’s _Works_, vol. ii. p. 485, ed. 1813. “A kind of trunk breeches, formed of stripes of various-coloured cloth, occasionally intermixed with slips of silk or velvet, stitched together.” Introd. to Ford’s _Works_, p. clxxvii.

Vol. i. p. 50, l. 11.

_Scirophorion_ ... _Hecatombaion_] When I reprinted Gifford’s note on these words, which he calls “a miserable ostentation of Greek literature,” I forgot to observe, that the “Grecian Moneths” were formerly not unfamiliar to the vulgar; see, for instance, the last page of Pond’s _Almanack_, 1610.

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BLURT, MASTER-CONSTABLE.

Vol. i. p. 235, l. 18.

_kerry merry buff_] So Nash, “Yea, without _kerry merry buffe_ be it spoken,” &c. _Haue with you to Saffron-walden_, 1596, sig. F 4; and Kempe, “One hath written Kemps farewell to the tune of _Kery, mery, Buffe_.” Dedication of the _Nine daies Wonder_, 1600.

Vol. i. p. 236, l. 12.

_Cornelius’ dry-fats_] Compare Taylor, the water-poet: “She [the bawd] will harbour no ventred commodity in her warehouse, and if the Informer or Constable doe light vpon one of her conceal’d _dryfats_, Punchions, fardels,” &c. _A Bawd_, p. 103—_Workes_, 1630.

Vol. i. p. 242, l. 19.

“_Enter_ Doyt and Dandyprat.”

Read

“_Re-enter_ Doyt,” &c.

Vol. i. p. 282, last line but one.

“_I’ll_ keep time just to a minute, I.”

Read, for the metre,

“_I will_ keep,” &c.

Vol. i. p. 283, l. 16.

_lantern and candle-light_] “Was anciently accounted one of the cries of London, being the usual words of the bellman:” see Nares’s _Gloss._ in v.

Vol. i. p. 290, l. 23.

“marry, Blurt master-constable.”

Read

“marry, Blurt, master constable!”

a proverbial expression: see p. 225 of the same vol.

Vol. i. p. 292, l. 18.

“_Enter_ Blurt and all his Watch.”

Read

“_Re-enter_ Blurt,” &c.

Vol. i. p. 295.

Dele the note “_sheaths_] Qy. ‘sheathed’?”

Vol. i. p. 298.

Dele the note “_pickst_] Qy. ‘prickst’?”

Vol. i. p. 306, l. 19.

“at _his_ foot I’ll lie That dares touch her.”

For “his” of old ed. the sense requires that we should read “this,”—an alteration which I intended, but by some oversight neglected, to make in the text. As to my note, “_lie_] i. e. lay—for the sake of the rhyme”—the word, I believe, is rightly explained; but I find that Brathwait has used “lies” for “lays,” even in the middle of a line:

“The proudest Peeres he to subiection brings, And prostrate _lies_ the Diadems of Kings.” _Strappado for the Diuell_, 1615, p. 229 [213].

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THE PHŒNIX.

Vol. i. p. 336, l. 28.

_steaks_] That this is the right reading, appears from a passage in _Your Five Gallants_: see vol. ii. p. 287.

Vol. i. p. 351, l. 4.

_Without thee_] I was wrong in supposing that the earlier part of the line had dropt out: see notes on imperfect couplets, vol. i. p. 424, vol. ii. pp. 7, 307, &c.

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MICHAELMAS TERM.

Vol. i. p. 428, l. 17.

_scurvy murrey kersey_] So in _The Two Merry Milke-Maids_, 1620; “foolish, _scuruy_, _course-kersie_, durty-tayl’d, dangling dug-cow.” Sig. C. 3.

Vol. i. p. 455, l. 20.

_i’ th’ wold of Kent_] I ought not to have altered “wild” into “wold:” compare _The Marriage-Broaker by M. W._; “Ride to my Farm _i’ th’ wild_,” p. 27—_Gratiæ Theatrales_, 1662.

Vol. i. p. 473, l. 17.

_a warning-piece_] The text is quite right: so Dekker, “Ther’s _a warning peece_. Away.” _Whore of Babylon_, 1607, sig. C. iv.; and S. Rowley,

“He makes his love to us _a warning-peece_ To arme ourselves against we come to court.” _Noble Spanish Souldier_, 1634, sig. H.

Vol. i. p. 475, l. 26.

_the row_] Perhaps I ought to have printed “row” with a capital letter,—i. e. Goldsmiths’-Row in Cheapside: see Stow’s _Survey_, b. iii. p. 198, ed. 1720; and Gifford’s note on B. Jonson’s _Works_, vol. v. p. 93.

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A TRICK TO CATCH THE OLD ONE.

Vol. ii. p. 3.

We learn from Downes’s _Roscius Anglicanus_ that this play was one of the early dramas revived between 1662 and 1665, p. 36, ed. Waldron.

Vol. ii. p. 5, l. 10.

_Longacre_] The editor of 1816 is mistaken: this word was used for an estate in general; compare _Lady Alimony_, 1659, “It will run like Quicksilver over all their Husbands Demains: and in very short time make a quick dispatch of all his _Long acre_.” Sig. B 3.

A passage of _Gammer Gurton’s Needle_, which stands thus in the various editions of Dodsley’s _Old Plays_,

“Tome Tannkard’s cow (be gog’s bones) she set me up her sail, And flynging about his _halse aker_, fysking with her taile,” &c.

has drawn forth the following extraordinary note from Steevens: “I believe we should read _halse anchor_, or _anker_, as it was anciently spelt; a naval phrase. The _halse_ or _halser_ was a particular kind of cable,” &c., vol. ii. p. 11, last ed.—If Steevens, or the other editors, had only taken the trouble to look at the 4to of 1575, they would have found the true reading—“_halfe aker_,” i. e. small bit of ground.

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THE FAMILY OF LOVE.

Vol. ii. p. 106, l. 32.

_Weber remarks_, &c.] The mistake of Weber may be traced to Langbaine, who says, “This Play is mentioned by Sir Thomas Bornwel in _The Lady of Pleasure_, Act 1. Sc. 1.” _Acc. of English Dram. Poets_, p. 372.

Vol. ii. p. 118, note.

“a corruption of _will_.”

Read

“a corruption of _wilt_.”

Vol. ii. p. 125, l. 1.