actors for all matters, they were entertained into the service of divers great lords; out of which companies there were twelve of the best chosen, and, at the request of Sir. Francis Walsingham, they were sworne the queen's servants, and were allowed wages and liveries as grooms of the queen's chamber: and until this year 1583, the queen had no players."”

The first regular playhouse of which we find any mention is "The Theatre," which was situated in Shoreditch. The earliest reference to it is in an old book, date 1576, quoted by Payne Collier in his "Annals of the Stage: "Those who go to Paris Garden, the Bell Savage,* or The Theatre, to behold bear baiting, interludes or fence play, must not account of any pleasant spectacle unless first they pay one penny at the gate, another at the entry of the scaffold, and a third for a quiet standing." This house, which could only have been a very rude wooden erection, seems to have been abandoned as early as 1578. The "Curtain," in Moor Fields, so called from its sign being a striped curtain, was opened in 1576, and was in use until the commencement of Charles I.'s reign. In Shakespeare's time there were seven regular theatres: the Curtain, the Blackfriars (built in 1578 by James Burbadge), the Whitefriars (1580), the Red Bull, St. John's Street, the Cockpit or Phoenix, Drury Lane, situated in Pitt Street, not opened until James's reign, the Fortune, Golden Lane, built or rebuilt by Alleyn (1599), and the Globe; there were besides, the Swan, the Rose, and the Hope, on Bankside (Southwark), and inn-yards in which dramatic performances continued to be given. For those seven theatres there were only six companies; the Blackfriars was a winter house, the Globe a summer, and one

* One of the inns most famous for dramatic performances.

company sufficed for the two. The Red Bull and the Fortune seem to have been houses something of the class of the Britannia and Grecian of the present day, being chiefly resorted to by citizens and the humbler classes. Blackfriars was "" a private" theatre; that is to say, the performances were given by torchlight, although not at night; it was roofed in, and the pit had seats, which was not the case at the public ones, which were thatched only over the stage, the audience part being uncovered, and without seats for "the groundlings." The aristocratic company had also boxes or rooms, of which they kept the keys, and the privilege of sitting upon the stage. When all the seats were occupied by the ladies, the gentlemen used to lie at their feet, as we are accustomed to see Hamlet lie at Ophelia's. The Bankside theatres must have been of a very low class, the entertainment being probably a mixed one of singing, dancing, fencing, and buffoonery; the Swan and the Rose were shut up early in James I.'s reign. In regard to the size of these buildings, we read that the stage of the Fortune was fortythree feet wide, and, including a dressing-room at the back, thirty-nine and a half feet deep; it was three stories or tiers high, and from floor to ceiling was thirty-two feet; the cost of erecting it was five hundred and fifty pounds. Prices of admission seemed to have ranged from a penny to a shilling. But in the Induction to Ben Jonson's "Bartholomew Fair," produced at the Hope in 1614, the Scrivener, in reciting certain articles of agreement, says, "It shall be lawful for any man to judge his sixpen'worth, his twelvepen'worth, to his eighteenpence, two shillings, half-a-crown, to the value of his place." From various allusions in old books, we gather that the play commenced at three, and that the time of opening was

announced by trumpets and flags. "Each playhouse advances his flag in the air, whither quickly at the waving thereof are summoned whole troops of men, women, and children." Besides the play, there was sometimes given what was called "a jig," that is, some satirical coarse verses which were recited by the clown, to the accompaniment of pipe and tabor, to which he also danced.

Whether any kind of scenery was used in our ancient theatres seems to me still a doubtful question; that it was employed in the entertainments given at Court, we have only to turn to the masques of Ben Jonson and Shirley to be assured of the fact. In a state-paper, under date 1563, we have a list of expenses for the production of a certain masque in that year. Among other entries are a castle, and an arbor covered with painted canvas; in 1574 we find in a similar authority an account of pins for hanging painted cloths for "the carriage of frames and paynted cloths for the players howses," and a charge for the device of making the sun break from behind a cloud. Bacon, in his essay on "Masks and Triumphs," says: "It is true the alteration of scenes, so it be quietly and without noise, are things of great beauty and pleasure." If no scenery of any kind was used in the regular playhouses, why did Shakespeare cumber his plays with a number of stage directions impossible to be carried out? In the folio edition of “King John," 1623, we have the direction, "Enter Arthur on the Walls." In "Henry VI.," "Enter Pucelle on the top of a tower." In Act II., 2, of Jonson's "The Devil Is An Ass," upon the margin of the old copy was printed, "This scene is acted at two windows, as out of two contiguous buildings." Many other instances of such probable use of scenery may be found.

Scene

When a tragedy was represented, the stage was hung with black. Hence the opening line of "Henry VI.," "Hung be the heavens with black." It was also strewn with rushes. Malone says that toward the rear of the stage there appears to have been a balcony, the platform of which was about eight or ten feet from the ground, and probably supported by pillars. From hence, in many of our old plays, part of the dialogue was spoken; in front of this balcony curtains were hung.

Besides the adult actors, there were the children of St. Paul's (the choristers); those of the Chapel Royal, called the children of the Revels, were still more famous; they were formed into a regular company by Elizabeth; all Lilly's, and several of Jonson's and Shakespeare's plays, were originally performed by these boys, and their great popularity caused much jealousy among the professional actors. "Do they hold the same estimation (the players) they did when I was in the city? Are they so followed?" asks Hamlet of Rosencrantz. "There is, sir," is the reply, "an aïery of children, little eyases, that cry out on the top of the question, and are most tyrannically clapped for't: these are now the fashion, and so berattle the common stages (so they call them), that many, wearing rapiers, are afraid of goosequills, and dare scarce come hither." These juveniles attained to great perfection, and several became, in afterlife, admirable comedians at the Blackfriars.

Perhaps the most important player of the earlier drama was the clown. He was introduced into every play, and had unlimited license accorded him; he came on between the acts and scenes, and obtruded himself even upon the action of the play, without any respect to propriety, whenever any new piece of buffoonery

struck him.

Hence Hamlet's advice to the players: "Let those who play your clowns speak no more than is set down for them: for there be of them, that will themselves laugh, to set on some quantity of barren spectators to laugh too; though, in the meantime, some necessary question of the play be then to be considered: that's villainous, and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it."

There is no name among the old players more famous than that of Dick Tarleton. "For a wondrous, pleasant extemporal wit, he was the wonder of his tyme! He was so beloved that men use his picture for their signs," says Howes. Another old author tells us: "For the clown's part he never had his equal." Even Ben Jonson, who never misses an opportunity of a fling at actors, could not refrain from applauding Tarleton. "The self-same words spoken by another would hardly move a man to smile, which uttered by him would force a sad soul to laughter." He is said to have been brought to London from Shropshire by one of Lord Leicester's servants, who found him in the fields tending his father's swine, and was so astonished by the readiness of his answers and the quickness of his intellect, that he proposed he should enter my lord's service—a proposal Dick was willing enough to accept. In a little while he was enrolled among the twelve players who formed the Queen's company, and became a sort of court-jester. "When the queen was serious,” says Fuller, "I dare not say sullen, Tarleton could undumpish her at his pleasure. He told her more of her faults than most of her chaplains, and cured her of her melancholy better than all her physicians." He fell into disgrace at last, however, and was dismissed from Court for scurrilous reflections upon