Shakspere and Montaigne | Page 4

more pamphlets by the State forbidden, then all the bookesellers in London; for only in this Citie is straight search, abroad smale suspition, especially of such petty pedlars.' [2]
Chettle speaks strongly against these 'intruders in the printings misserie, by whome that excelent Art is not smally slandered, the government of the State not a little blemished, nor Religion in the least measure hindred.'
Besides the profit to be derived from the Press by the malcontent travelling scholars, there was yet another way of acquiring the means of sustenance and of making use of mental culture; and in it there existed the further advantage of independence from grumbling publishers. This was the Stage. For it no great preparations were necessary, nor was any capital required. A few chairs, some boards; in every barn there was room. Wherever one man was found who could read, there were ten eager to listen.
A most characteristic drama, 'The Return from Parnassus,' depicts some poor scholars who turn away from pitiless Cambridge, of which one of them says--
For had not Cambridge been to me unkind,?I had not turn'd to gall a milky mind. [3]
After having long since completed their studies, they go to London to seek for the most modest livelihood. Bitter experience had taught these disciples of learning that the employment for which they waited could only be gained by bribery; and bribe they certainly could not, owing to their want of means. Some of them already show a true Werther-like yearning for solitude:--
We will be gone unto the downs of Kent....
STUDIOSO.
So shall we shun the company of men,?That grows more hateful as the world grows old.?We'll teach the murm'ring brooks in tears to flow,?And sleepy rocks to wail our passed woe. [4]
Another utters sentiments of grief, coming near the words of despair of Faust. There is a tone in them of what the Germans call?Weltschmerz:--
Curs'd be our thoughts, whene'er they dream of hope,?Bann'd be those haps that henceforth flatter us,?When mischief dogs us still and still for aye,?From our first birth until our burying day. [5]
In the difficult choice of a calling which is to save them from need and misery, these beggar-students also think of the stage:--
And must the basest trade yield us relief?
So Philomusus, in a woebegone tone, asks his comrade Studioso; and the latter looks with the following envious words upon the players whose prospects must have been brighter and more enticing than those of the learned poor scholars:--
England affords those glorious vagabonds,?That carried erst their fardles on their backs,?Coursers to ride on through the gazing streets,?Sweeping it in their glaring satin suits,?And pages to attend their masterships:?With mouthing words that better wits have framed,?They purchase lands, and now esquires are made. [6]
Shakspere, as well as Alleyn, bought land with the money earned by their art. For many, the stage was the port of refuge to which they fled from the lonely habitations of erudition, where they--
... sit now immur'd within their private cells,?Drinking a long lank watching candle's smoke,?Spending the marrow of their flow'ring age?In fruitless poring on some worm-eat leaf. [7]
Many of these beggar students sought a livelihood by joining the players. That which the poor scholar had read and learnt in books old and new; all that he had heard from bold, adventurous warriors and seamen returning from foreign lands or recently discovered islands; in short, everything calculated to awaken interest and applause among the great mass, was with feverish haste put on the stage, and, in order to render it more palatable, mixed with a goodly dose of broad humour.
The same irreconcilable spirit of the Reformation, which would not tolerate any saint's image in the places of worship, also destroyed the liking for Miracle Plays. The tendency of the time was to turn away from mysteries and abstract notions, and to draw in art and poetry nearer to real life. Where formerly 'Miracles and Moralities' were the delight of men, and Biblical utterances, put in the mouth of prophets and saints, served to edify the audience, there the wordy warfare and the fisticuffs exchanged between the Mendicant Friar and the Seller of Indulgences [8] or Pardoner, whose profane doings were satirised on the stage, became now the subject of popular enjoyment and laughter. Every question of the day was boldly handled, and put in strong language, easily understood by the many, before a grateful public of simple taste.
The drama, thus created anew, soon became the most popular amusement in the whole country. Every other sport was forgotten over it. In every market town, in every barn, a crowd of actors met. In those days no philosophical hair-splitting was in vogue on the boards. Everything was drawn from real life; a breath of freedom pervaded all this exuberant geniality. That which a man felt to-day, tomorrow he was able