Shakespeare and the Stage / With a Complete List of Theatrical Terms Used by Shakespeare in His Plays and Poems, Arranged in Alphabetical Order, & Explanatory Notes

ACT.

III, 2, 83.

V, 2, 346.

ACTED.

II, 2, 455.

ACTOR.

II, 2, 410.

II, 2, 416.

III, 2, 106.

ABRIDGEMENT.

II, 2, 439.

ARGUMENT.

II, 2, 273.

III, 2, 149.

III, 2, 242.

The argument of a play signified the plot or the subject matter under discussion. The word in this sense is now obsolete, although much in use in Elizabethan times, and frequently employed by several dramatists of the period.

AUDIENCE.

V, 2, 398.

CHORUS.

III, 2, 255.

CUE.

III, 2, 587.

TRAGEDY. COMEDY. HISTORY. PASTORAL.

POLONIUS:

The best actors in the world, either for tragedy, comedy, history, pastoral, pastoral-comical, historical-pastoral; tragical-historical, tragical-comical-historical-pastoral, scene individable, or poem unlimited; Seneca cannot be too heavy, not Plautus too light. For the law of writ and the liberty, these are the only men.

II, 2, 415.

By the above speech Polonius must have been fairly well acquainted with the actors, and the repertoire of the tragedians of the city. The list describing the different styles of composition are somewhat exaggerated, but not to such an extent as appears at first sight. Evidence of the lengthy repertory of the Globe can be gleaned from an extract concerning a licence granted in 1603 to the Globe company. Permission is given “freely to use the, and exercise the, Arte and facultie of playing Comedies, Tragedies, Histories, Enterludes, Moralls, Pastoralls and stage plaies, and such other like.” The phrase “scene individable” refers to the dramas, scrupulously adhering to the Unity of Place, a rule so carefully observed by classical writers. “Poem unlimited” may have expressed the antithesis to scene individable. The mention of Seneca and Plautus takes us back to the dramatic writers of antiquity. Seneca’s tragedies were translated into English and published in 1581. There are many allusions in English literature to these blood-curdling dramas. Nash, the Elizabethan dramatist and pamphleteer, thus describes the works of the Latin author: “Yet English Seneca read by candle-light yields many good sentences as ‘Blood is a beggar,’ and so forth, and if you entreat him fair on a frosty morning he will afford you whole Hamlets, I should say handfuls, of tragical speeches. But o grief Tempus edax rerum, what’s that will last always? The sea exhaled by drops will in continuance be dry, and Seneca let blood line by line and page by page at length must needs die to our stage.”

I possess an original edition of Seneca’s work in Latin, printed at Venice in the year 1498. The volume contains the ten tragedies, which were rendered into English by Thomas Newton and other writers. The “Hamlet” here referred to is an older play than Shakespeare’s “Hamlet,” and presumably written by Thomas Kyd, to which Shakespeare was immeasurably indebted. Traces of this play may survive in the 1603 quarto of “Hamlet.” The relation of the 1603 quarto of “Hamlet” to the received text is one of the most puzzling subjects in all Shakesperean literature. The exact relationship still awaits solution. Plautus was a Latin dramatist, one of whose plays had been translated into English. The “Menaechmi” was rendered into the vernacular by William Warner and published in 1595. The translation acquaints us with the fact that before publication the play had been circulated in MS. Shakespeare’s play of the “Comedy of Errors” is founded on Plautus’s comedy. Whether Shakespeare went direct to the original or copied from Warner or any other translation cannot be decided. Somewhat puzzling is the question in discovering the grammatical subject of “these are the only men.” Does Polonius refer to the law of writ and the liberty or the “best actors of the world.” “Writ and liberty” bear the same meaning as “scene individable or poem unlimited.” The phrases may be intended as a compliment to the poets who were distinguished in both classes of composition, or perhaps the actors were the only men, who by their expert knowledge were capable of acting in all kinds of plays, whether a written composition or extempore plays.

CELLARAGE.

I, V, 151.

This quotation possibly refers to some kind of contrivance in use underneath the stage. Trap-doors in the Elizabethan theatre were an indispensable feature of the stage setting. From the stage of to-day they have entirely disappeared, with the exception of pantomime, where they are still much in evidence. The Ghost in “Hamlet” apparently made his entrance and his exit by one of these trap-doors. Several dramatists made use of these doors in introducing their characters upon the stage. The exact spot in which they were situated cannot be indicated; only in one instance can it be clearly defined. Ben Jonson, in his Induction to the Poetaster marks the trap-door in the centre of the stage. One may also have existed in the upper stage, but this suggestion is quite problematical. Spectators at the Blackfriars Theatres allowed stools on the stage. Considering that trap-doors were situated all over the stage, the stool-holders must have had their allotted space marked off, otherwise they would have interfered with the stage setting.

DUMB SHOW.

III, 2, 14.

HAUTBOYS PLAY. THE DUMB-SHOW ENTERS

III, 2, 145.

Enter a King and a Queen very lovingly; the Queen embracing him and he her. She kneels and makes show of protestation unto him. He takes her up and reclines his head upon her neck; lays him down upon a bank of flowers; she, seeing him asleep, leaves him. Anon comes in a fellow, takes off his crown, kisses it, and pours poison in the King’s ears, and exit. The Queen returns; finds the King dead and makes passionate action. The poisoner, with some two or three Mutes, comes in again, seeming to lament with her. The dead body is carried away. The Poisoner wooes the Queen with gifts; she seems loath and unwilling awhile, but in the end accepts, his love.

Exeunt.

I have quoted the dumb-show scene in full, as only in rare instances in English dramatic literature is the action of the play foretold by such means. Why Shakespeare employed this confused method cannot be conjectured. Surely Hamlet exhibiting, through the dumb-show, how his father was murdered would naturally put the King upon his guard; the very thing he sought to avoid. The dumb-show undoubtedly detracts from the climax of the play-scene, and must be considered a serious blunder on the part of the dramatist in having introduced this artless and old-fashioned piece of machinery. The commentators give no valid excuse for its introduction. Halliwell-Phillipps makes the silly suggestion that the King and Queen should be whispering together during the scene, and so escape seeing it. A more ridiculous note by a great Shakesperean scholar has never been printed.

ENACT.

III, 2, 107.

Besides writing a play called “Julius Cæsar,” Shakespeare introduces his name on several occasions; apparently he was one of the poet’s favourite characters. I am afraid Shakespeare did not verify his quotations; many simple errors occur through Shakespeare copying them from other authors, whilst the critics, from sheer ignorance, always lay them on Shakespeare’s shoulders, thus making him the scapegoat for other’s mistakes. Of course, from the point of view of modern scholarship, it is a grave error in placing Cæsar’s assassination in the Capitol; Plutarch expressly states that Cæsar met his death at Pompey’s portico, where a statue of his famous rival stood in the centre. The dramatist was on the right track when Marc Antony, in his oration, describes the place where Cæsar fell:

Julius Cæsar was murdered in the “Curia,” Pompey near the theatre of Pompey, in the Campus Martius. Chaucer commits the same blunder in believing that Cæsar was stabbed in the Capitol. In Shakespeare’s play of “Julius Cæsar” the same error was repeated. An ancient statue, which was discovered in 1553 and now stands in the Sala dell’ Udianza of the Spada Palace at Rome, may be the identical statue of Pompey, at the base of which great Cæsar fell. Plutarch relates how at the very base where Pompey’s statue stood, which ran all gore blood, till he was slain. Plutarch’s celebrated lives of the Grecians and Romans was translated into English by Thomas North in 1579, from the French version of Jacques Amyot, first printed in 1559. Four editions were issued before North made his translation without studying the text very minutely, a difficulty arises in determining which edition North used. This book was Shakespeare’s constant companion, and many of North’s vigorous prose passages are turned into verse with very little alteration. This volume was in the library of Molière’s mother, and was frequently consulted by the great French comic poet. The author was in great vogue during the sixteenth, seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, and it may well be considered the most popular book of those times among educated people. During the last hundred years the work has lost much of its popularity, few people of the present day having read it. I doubt if many who profess themselves readers of good literature know the author, even by name. So much for our educational system. I possess a copy of the first Greek edition, dated 1517, formerly in the possession of the Duke of Sussex; besides the rare first French edition, 1559, which I recently purchased from the catalogue of a lady provincial bookseller.

GROUNDLINGS.

To split the ears of the groundlings, who for the most part are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb-shows and noise.

III, II, 12.

That part of the theatre, corresponding to our pit, was called the yard, and the spectators who stood in the enclosure were dubbed groundlings, the word being associated with the general sense of ground. “Your groundlings and gallery-commoner buys his sport by the penny.” The price of admission to this part of a public theatre, such as the Globe, was one penny. At the Blackfriars, a private theatre, there was no open yard. In Jonson’s play of “The Case is Altered” one of the characters explains: “Tut, give me the penny, give me the penny. I care not for the gentleman, I, let me have good ground.” The same dramatist, in another play, designates these spectators as the understanding gentlemen of the ground. Judging by contemporary accounts, the yard was the most uncomfortable place for enjoying the performance, the enclosure was bare of any sitting accommodation, neither was there any flooring, being generally overcrowded; there was no room for stools. Notwithstanding these disadvantages, the people flocked to this part of the theatre, which, at most of the public theatres, held about a thousand spectators. In proof of this statement I will quote some verses from Marlowe’s Epigrams and Elegies, translated from Ovid’s Amores:

These lines were published circa 1596, and have never been quoted before in reference to the stage, and I regard them, on my part, in the light of a discovery. When every nook and cranny of Elizabethan literature has been diligently ransacked in quest of materials for illuminating theatrical matters, it is all the more surprising that this passage should have been overlooked. The reason may be that in this poem some of the verses were too highly coloured for respectable literary folk, but in spite of this obstacle I considered it my duty as a student to read the book diligently from page to page in hopes of finding some reference to the early stage, and in this instance I was amply rewarded. This volume of amorous verses was one of the books condemned to be burnt at Canterbury by Archbishop Whitgift in 1599. By a strange coincidence, the original of this volume was banned from the public libraries by order of the Emperor Augustus.

HOBBY HORSE.

III, 2, 144.

Although only distantly connected with the stage, the mention of this well-known feature in the May games proves that Shakespeare was well versed in all matters connected with the festivities of the village homes. The hobby-horse was one of the principal actors, taking part in the Morris Dance, this dance being considered the chief attraction of the May games. Hobby was originally the name of a small horse chiefly of Irish breed; when figuring in the festivities under this name it was represented by a paste board painted figure of a horse, attached to a frame of wicker wood or other light material, and was fastened round the waist of a man, his own legs, going through the body of the horse, were concealed by a long foot-cloth, thus enabling him to walk unseen, while false legs appeared where those of the man should have been, at the sides of the horse. Thus equipped, he executed various antics in imitation of a skittish high-spirited animal. The name of the performer was also called the hobby-horse. The phrase is now obsolete, but the word hobby is now associated with the occupation of collecting various works of art or trivial things, which is compared to the riding of a toy horse. The present quotation may be a line now lost from an old ballad, in which the omission of the hobby-horse from the May games was the principal theme. The figure of a man riding a hobby-horse is depicted on a glass window at Betley Church, Staffordshire. This identical sentence is often mentioned in Elizabethan literature, which would indicate that at this period it had ceased to form a part of the rustic games. As an instance showing the disfavour into which the hobby-horse had fallen, Hope-on-high Bomby, a character in “A Woman Pleased,” by Beaumont and Fletcher, throws off his hobby-horse and will no more engage in the Morris Dance. Last summer I witnessed some very interesting Morris Dances performed on the Green in the Hampstead Garden Suburb, but was disappointed in not seeing the hobby-horse. “For O, For O, the hobby-horse is forgot,” I exclaimed in a loud voice, but no one heeded me, and the dances continued.

JIG.

II, 2, 522.

This is the only instance in which Shakespeare uses the word in its connexion with the dramatic history of the stage. In this sense the word is now obsolete. Until quite lately, no specimen of this form of dramatic literature was extant, yet the early commentators were fully aware of its existence. Very little trustworthy evidence for this class of literary diversion is procurable, but several early references clearly indicate that such fare was usually provided at the public theatres. The jig was a dramatic sketch or ballad drama, of a light or farcical character, written to dance music and accompanied in most instances to dance action. The piece that has survived is without this lasting accessory. The actors in these sketches were chosen from those that played the clowns and comic characters in the regular drama. An idea of the nature of these one-act plays may be imagined by comparing them to the rollicking farces which generally concluded the programme in our theatres in Victorian times. The only extant jig, which has recently been discovered, has been printed in the collection of Shirburn ballads, and edited with much profound learning by Mr. Andrew Clark. The playlet is entitled:

“Mr. Attwell’s Jigge
betweene
Francis.  A Gentleman.
Richard.  A Farmer
and their wives.”

The sketch is divided into four acts, each one accompanied to a different tune. The first to the tune of “Walsingham,” the second “The Jewish Bride,” the third to “Buggle-boe,” and the fourth to “Goe from my Window.” This last tune was familiar in Scotland early in Elizabeth’s reign. The first act introduces to us the plot of the piece: the gentleman, who makes love to the farmer’s wife. When her husband returns, she tells him of the gentleman’s intentions; thereupon they concoct a plot to entrap the would-be lover, and inform the gentleman’s wife of his intrigue. In the end the gentleman makes love to his own wife in the belief that she is the farmer’s wife. When he discovers his mistake he is forgiven and all ends happily. We may readily assume that many such pieces still exist in manuscript which have not yet come to light. We owe a debt to Mr. Clark for having published this highly interesting example, illustrating a popular theatrical amusement of the Tudor period. The Spanish dramas of this date also had their jigs, which were called “bayles,” always accompanied by words, either sung or recited, and, of course, by dancing.

LINES.

III, 2, 4.

These lines refer to the delivery of the speech, inserted by Hamlet in the play scene. Apparently Shakespeare did not appreciate this boisterous school of acting, which was of a pompous oratorical style, uttering the words with great distinctness of articulation, amounting almost to affectation; in brief, a species of ranting. In poetry, verses are termed lines. Milton, in his ode to Shakespeare, prefixed to the Second Folio, 1632, writes:

“Unvalued” in the above quotation is here used for our modern word “invaluable.” Shakespeare uses the word in both its ancient and modern definitions, namely, “Inestimable stones, unvalued Jewels,” in “Richard III,” and once in “Hamlet,” “He may not as unvalued persons do Carve for himself.”

An actor of to-day still refers to the words of his part as his lines. A further instance of ranting occurs in Churchill’s “Roliad,” where he speaks disparagingly of an actor in the following couplet:

Shakespeare himself refers to his “untutored lines” in the dedication of “Lucrece” to the Earl of Southampton.

PART.

II, 2, 336.

In this passage the “humourous man” has no connection with the funny or comical character in our present day melodramas. The meaning in this latter sense is first used at the end of the seventeenth century. The Shakesperean sense was moody, peevish, or capricious, ever ready in entering into a quarrel, and represented by such characters as Mercutio, Jacques, and Faulconbridge.

PLAY.

II, 2, 332.

II, 2, 456.

II, 2, 46.

II, 2, 56.

II, 2, 618.

II, 2, 624.

II, 2, 663.

III, 1, 21.

III, 1, 189.

III, 2, 33.

Let those that play your clowns speak no more than is set down for them.

III, 2, 43.

Though, in the meantime, some necessary question of the play be then to be considered.

III, 2, 47.

III, 2, 80.

III, 2, 93.

III, 2, 98.

III, 2, 150.

III, 2, 158.

III, 2, 239.

III, 2, 246.

III, 2, 265.

III, 2, 279.

V, 2, 31.

PLAYED.

III, 2, 104.

PLAYER.

II, 2, 329.

What players are they? Even those you were wont to take such delight in, the tragedians of the city.

II, 2, 365.

II, 2, 373.

II, 2, 386.

II, 2, 391.

II, 2, 406.

II, 2, 547.

II, 2, 577.

II, 2, 623.

III, 1, 16.

III, 2, 3.

III, 3, 32.

III, 2, 54.

III, 2, 111.

III, 2, 162.

III, 2, 289.

PLAYING.

III, 2, 23.

III, 2, 93.

PROLOGUE.

I, 1, 123.

III, 2, 123.

V, 2, 30.

QUALITY.

Will they pursue the quality no longer than they can sing?

II, 2, 268.

We’ll have a speech straight, come give us a taste of your quality, come a passionate speech.

III, 2, 451.

In Shakespeare’s time the word was used technically, as applying to the profession of acting; in this sense the word is now obsolete. “Players, I love ye and your quality,” is a quotation from Davies’ “Microcosm,” 1603.

SCENE.

II, 2, 418.

II, 2, 418.

II, 2, 619.

III, 2, 81.

SHOW.

III, 2, 149.

III, 2, 153.

The word show in both these passages refers to the dumb-show which caused Ophelia to make these remarks. Although in modern slang the word show is used in connexion with a dramatic entertainment, this meaning did not exist in Shakespeare’s time: its only meaning in a theatrical sense, in the sixteenth century was of a spectacular nature, such as pageants, masques or processions on a large scale.

STAGE.

II, 2, 358.

II, 2, 588.

TRAGEDIAN.

II, 2, 324.

TRAGEDY.

II, 2, 416.

III, 2, 159.

TRAGICAL.

II, 2, 417.

VICE.

III, IV, 98.

The vice in the old morality was usually of a humourous and malicious character, deriving his name from the vicious qualities attributed to him in the old morality plays. His nature was wholly mischievous, and this trait permeated his entire being. The vice was generally dressed in a fool’s habit, hence the further reference to a king of shreds and patches. One of the meanings of patch is a piece of cloth sewed together, with others of varying shape and size and colour to form patchwork or adorn a garment. Shakespeare having previously alluded to the vice or fool, by association of ideas refers in a few lines later to his many-coloured garment.

This passage is particularly interesting to Shakesperean students, introducing as it does one of those veiled allusions to the contemporary stage, under the cloak of carrying on the ordinary dialogues of the play. The most unobservant reader will notice that this conversation in no way furthers the action of the play, and was simply brought in on a set purpose to interest the spectators in certain theatrical events of the day. Shakespeare, frequently in his dramas, refers to topical events which were quite clear to his audience, but in the course of ages the allusions were forgotten, and now only have a shadowy existence. A few commentators still squabble over these so-called references, in most instances failing to see any contemporary event embedded in the text, while others would discover contemporary allusions throughout a great majority of the plays. These topical references must be treated sensibly and logically; the safest plan is to completely ignore them without ample evidence is forthcoming of their real existence, otherwise it will surely lead the commentator into various pitfalls. Weaving imaginary theories out of these passages, which many editors of the past most delight in, is simplicity itself, but the modern reader very justly demands conclusive evidence before giving credence to these wild assumptions. In the above passage there can hardly exist a doubt that some stage event of the day is here discussed; the difficulty is to pluck out the heart of the mystery in the words “inhibition” and “innovation.” Although the scene is laid in Denmark, every reader will surely understand that Shakespeare is referring to the stage in London. By the tragedians of the city his own audience would be quick in detecting a reference to the celebrated actors of the Globe Theatre, which included the famous Richard Burbage, the creator of Hamlet and many other leading Shakesperean characters. In the query “how chances it they travel,” there is a reference to the custom of the London companies making their provincial tours. These tours were organized when the London theatres were closed, occurring chiefly through the raging of the plague, or want of funds necessary in carrying out a London season, or by some drastic measure imposed by certain authorities. One fact is certain, every company, whether successful or unsuccessful, made these regular provincial tours, evidence of which is abundant, and can be found in the archives of the principal towns in England.

By Hamlet’s question it would appear that only unsuccessful companies quitted the Metropolis, but on that point I can offer no satisfactory answer, except that Shakespeare in this passage was not alluding to the custom of the theatrical profession of his own times which, I think most readers will agree with me, is most unlikely.

The next quotation presents even greater difficulties. “I think their inhibition comes by the means of the late innovation.” To anyone unacquainted with the theatrical practices of the Elizabethan times, this passage is altogether meaningless, even those possessing the requisite knowledge, the exact interpretation can only be dimly surmised. That there was some definite allusion to some theatrical event of the day, which the audience clearly understood is certain, otherwise the passage would have been explained in a further conversation. Now our duty is to pierce this Cimmerian darkness by discovering the true history of this inhibition, likewise the origin of the innovation. The word inhibition refers to the act of inhibiting or forbidding, a prohibition formally issued by a person or body possessed of civil authority. Innovation means the action of innovating or the introduction of novelties. A change made in the nature or fashion of anything. Something newly introduced, a novel practice or method. Armed with these dictionary explanations we can now proceed in applying them to the present passage.

If we might take a liberty with the text and follow Dr. Johnson’s emendation, we immediately get rid of one of the difficulties. Dr. Johnson proposed to transpose the order of the words to read: “I think their innovation comes by the means of the late inhibition.” By this simple expedient innovation would refer to their new practice of strolling and the inhibition to the cause of it.

In my opinion this new reading is a most ingenious correction, and if adopted would remove the difficulty of making Hamlet grasp immediately the cause of the innovation which was certainly unknown to him. By explaining innovation as referring to their travelling or strolling, and inhibition as a command to quit the Metropolis, for some offence, the answer appears satisfactory and needs no further elucidation. But this tampering with the text is high treason in the Shakesperean sense, and other solutions more in conformity with the rules of the game must be suggested. It is just possible that the word inhibition is a corruption due to the compositor mishearing the word exhibition, meaning that the players were exhibiting themselves in the country for some offence or other.

Theobald, the greatest of all Shakesperean commentators, suggested the word itineration, clearly indicating that he thought the word was a corruption.

The city and local authorities frequently prohibited the actors from playing in their theatres; sometimes refusing permission on account of the plague, on other occasions for disturbances caused by the gathering of a large concourse of people, more often by their prejudice and utter dislike of all theatrical performances. Any light pretext was sufficient to order an inhibition. In this particular instance it is difficult to account for any inhibition by the authorities. The innovation certainly referred to the competition of the child performers, although in Shakespeare’s time it was no innovation, the children having acted for many years previously. The Blackfriars Theatre was given up to the Children of the Queen’s Revels and the Children of the Royal Chapel and other boy companies, which the Queen encouraged not only by her presence at the Blackfriars Theatre but by allowing them several privileges. The Children of St. Paul’s were also a rival company, and acted with great applause, several dramatists of eminence writing plays for them as well as for the Blackfriars brigade. Hamlet bitterly laments these innovations, for which he has my hearty approval, the child performer on the stage or in the drawing room being my bête noire. Shakespeare’s sympathies being entirely on behalf of the men players. Other causes for the closing of the theatres were the custom of introducing matters of state and religion upon the stage, for which cause the Admiral and the Strange companies were severely censured and, no doubt, obliged to retire for a season. Personal abuse was also rampant, and led to the war of the theatres, a controversy carried on with much bitterness on all sides. Satirizing living persons and impersonating their peculiarities was another feature of the stage, which caused the imprisonment of Nash, the well-known dramatist. Lord Strange’s company got into a great scrape for playing the deposition scene in “Richard the Second,” much to the annoyance and anger of the Queen, at the time of the Essex rebellion. The Queen is reported to have said, “Know ye not that I am Richard the Second?” For this offence they were debarred from acting at Court, and also in London. During their prohibition they acted in the provinces, but it is hardly likely that Shakespeare would refer to his own company as being in disgrace. I only cite these instances as showing the theatrical customs of the day, and incidentally throwing light on the topical allusion in this passage. Attentive readers of Shakespeare’s works will in course of their perusal come across several of these tantalizing references, which are all the more interesting on account of the difficulty in solving them. Many a passage which runs so smoothly in the modern text owes its simplicity to the untiring efforts and scholarship of previous editors. One such editor, the famous Theobald, was a genius in restoring the true reading out of a mass of corruption in which he found the text, also in interpreting for later generations out of the way classical allusions and ancient customs. Some of his restorations and interpretations can only be considered as inspired, and all Shakesperean students should revere his memory. Without the aid of Theobald hundreds of passages would still have remained unintelligible, and Shakespeare himself owes him a debt of gratitude.

COMMON PLAYERS.

John Stephens, in his Essays and Characters, 1615, thus describes a common player: “Therefore did I prefix an epithet of ‘common’ to distinguish the base and artlesse appendants of our city companies, which oftentimes start away into rusticall wanderers and then, like Proteus, start back again into the citty number.”