P. 23. ‘Wyll not a fylthye playe, wyth the blast of a Trumpette, sooner call thyther a thousande, than an houres tolling of a Bell, bring to the Sermon a hundred? nay euen heere in the Citie, without it be at this place, and some other certaine ordinarie audience, where shall you finde a reasonable company? whereas, if you resorte to the Theatre, the Curtayne, and other places of Playes in the Citie, you shall on the Lords day haue these places, with many other that I can not recken, so full, as possible they can throng.’ P. 50. ‘We notwithstanding on the Lordes daye must haue Fayers kept, must haue Beare bayting, Bulbayting (as if it wer a thing of necessity for the Beares of Paris garden to be bayted on the Sunnedaye) must haue baudie Enterludes.’ P. 85. Calls on the Mayor, Sheriffs and Aldermen as ‘publike magistrates’ to keep watch against ‘flocking and thronging to baudie playes by thousandes’ on the Lord’s Day, and notes ‘resorting to playes in the time of sermons a thing too manifest’. P. 133. ‘There be not many places where y^e word is preached besides the Lords day (I woulde to God there were) yet euen that day the better parte of it is horriblie prophaned by diuellishe inuentions, as with Lords of Misserule, Morice dauncers, May-games, insomuch that in some places, they shame not in y^e time of diuine seruice, to come and daunce aboute the Church, and without to haue men naked dauncing in nettes, which is most filthie: for the heathen that neuer hadde further knowledge, than the lighte of nature, haue counted it shamefull for a Player to come on the stage without a slop, and therefore amongest Christians I hope suche beastly brutishnesse shal not be let escape vnpunished, for whiche ende I recite it, and can tell, if I be called, where it was committed within these fewe weekes. What should I speake of beastlye Playes, againste which out of this place euery man crieth out? haue we not houses of purpose built with great charges for the maintenance of them, and that without the liberties, as who woulde say, there, let them saye what they will say, we will play. I know not how I might with the godly learned especially more discommende the gorgeous Playing place erected in the fieldes, than to terme it, as they please to haue it called, a Theatre ... I will not here enter this disputation, whether it be vtterly vnlawfull to haue any playes, but will onelye ioine in this issue, whether in a Christian common wealth they be tolerable on the Lords day.... If playing in the Theatre or any other place in London, as there are by sixe that I know to many, be any of the Lordes wayes (which I suppose there is none so voide of knowledge in the world wil graunt) then not only it may, but ought to be vsed, but if it be any of the wayes of man, it is no work for y^e Lords Sabaoth, and therfore in no respecte tollerable on that daye.’ P. 137. ‘For reckening with the leaste, the gaine that is reaped of eighte ordinarie places in the Citie whiche I knowe, by playing but once a weeke (whereas many times they play twice and somtimes thrice) it amounteth to 2000 pounds by the yeare.’

xviii. 1578. John Florio.

Where shal we goe?

To a playe at the Bull, or els to some other place.

Doo Comedies like you wel?

Yea sir, on holy dayes.

They please me also wel, but the preachers wyll not allowe them.

Wherefore, knowe you it:

They say, they are not good.

And wherfore are they vsed?

Because euery man delites in them.

I beleeue there is much knauerie vsed at those Comedies: what thinke you?

So beleeue I also.

xix. 1578. George Whetstone.

... I devided the whole history into two Commedies: for that, Decorum used, it would not be convayde in one. The effects of both, are good and bad: vertue intermyxt with vice, unlawful desyres (yf it were possible) queancht with chaste denyals: al needefull action (I thinke) for publike vewe. For by the rewarde of the good, the good are encowraged in wel doinge: and with the scowrge of the lewde, the lewde are feared from evil attempts: mainetayning this my oppinion with Platoes auctority. ‘Nawghtinesse commes of the corruption of nature, and not by readinge or hearinge the lives of the good or lewde (for such publication is necessarye), but goodnesse (sayth he) is beawtifyed by either action.’ And to these ends Menander Plautus and Terence, themselves many yeares since intombed, (by their Commedies) in honour live at this daye. The auncient Romanes heald these showes of suche prise, that they not onely allowde the publike exercise of them, but the grave Senators themselves countenaunced the Actors with their presence: who from these trifles wonne morallyte, as the Bee suckes the honny from weedes. But the advised devises of auncient Poets, discredited with the tryfels of yonge, unadvised, and rashe witted wryters, hath brought this commendable exercise in mislike. For at this daye, the Italian is so lascivious in his commedies, that honest hearers are greeved at his actions: the Frenchman and Spaniarde folowes the Italians humor: the Germaine is too holye: for he presentes on everye common Stage, what Preachers should pronounce in Pulpets. The Englishman in this quallitie, is most vaine, indiscreete, and out of order: he fyrst groundes his worke, on impossibilities: then in three howers ronnes he throwe the worlde: marryes, gets Children, makes Children men, men to conquer kingdomes, murder monsters, and bringeth Gods from Heaven, and fetcheth Divels from Hel. And (that which is worst) their ground is not so unperfect, as their working indiscreete: not waying, so the people laugh, though they laugh them (for theyr folleys) to scorne: Manye tymes (to make mirthe) they make a Clowne companion with a Kinge: in theyr grave Counsels, they allow the advise of fooles: yea they use one order of speach for all persones: a grose Indecorum, for a Crowe wyll yll counterfet the Nightingales sweete voice: even so, affected Speeche doth misbecome a Clowne. For to work a Commedie kindly, grave olde men should instruct: yonge men should showe the imperfections of youth: Strumpets should be lascivious: Boyes unhappy: and Clownes should be disorderly: entermingling all these actions, in suche sorte, as the grave matter may instruct, and the pleasant delight: for without this chaunge, the attention would be small, and the likinge, lesse. But leave I this rehearsall, of the use, and abuse of Commedies: least that I check that in others, which I cannot amend in my selfe. But this I am assured, what actions so ever passeth in this History, either merry, or morneful: grave or lascivious; the conclusion showes the confusion of Vice, and cherishing of Vertue....

xx. 1579. T. F.

I call to witnesse the Theaters, Curtines, Heauing houses, Rifling boothes, Bowling alleyes, and such places, where the time is so shamefully mispent, namely the Sabaoth daies, vnto the great dishonor of God, and the corruption and vtter distruction of youth.

xxi. 1579. Thomas Twyne.

Joy. I am delighted with sundrie Shewes.

Reason. Perhaps with the Curteine or Theater: which two places are well knowen to be enimies to good manners: for looke who goeth thyther evyl, returneth worse. For that iourney is unknowen to the good, whiche yf any undertake uppon ignoraunce, he cannot choose but be defyled.

xxii. 1579. Stephen Gosson.

[Summary and Extracts.] Epistle to Sidney. Epistle to the Reader.... ‘I take vpon mee to driue you from playes, when mine owne woorkes are dayly to be seene vpon stages, as sufficient witnesses of mine owne folly, and seuere iudges againste my selfe.’ Poetry and Music are first attacked; an apologist for Homer being likened (p. 21) ‘to some of those players, that come to the scaffold with drum and trumpet to profer skirmishe, and when they haue sounded allarme, off go the peeces to encounter a shadow, or conquere a paper monster.’ P. 28. ‘As poetrie and piping are cosen germans: so piping and playing are of great affinity, and all three chayned in linkes of abuse.’ P. 29. ‘I was first instructed in the university, after drawne like a nouice to these abuses.’ Criticism of the theatre by the graver Greeks and Romans and its abuses in Rome. Similar abuses have replaced ‘the olde discipline of Englande’. P. 35. ‘In our assemblies at playes in London, you shall see suche heauing, and shoouing, suche ytching and shouldring, too sitte by the women; suche care for their garments, that they bee not trode on: such eyes to their lappes, that no chippes light in them: such pillowes to ther backes, that they take no hurte: such masking in their eares, I knowe not what: such giuing them pippins to passe the time: suche playing at foote saunt without cardes: such ticking, such toying, such smiling, such winking, and such manning them home, when the sportes are ended, that it is a right comedie, to marke their behauiour, to watche their conceites, as the catte for the mouse, and as good as a course at the game it selfe, to dogge them a little, or followe aloofe by the printe of their feete, and so discouer by slotte where the deare taketh soyle. If this were as well noted, as ill seene: or as openly punished, as secretly practised: I haue no doubte but the cause would be seared to dry vp the effect, and these prettie rabbets very cunningly ferretted from their borrowes. For they that lack customers al the weeke, either because their haunte is vnknowen, or the constables and officers of their parishe watch them so narrowly, that they dare not queatche, to celebrate the Sabboth, flock to theaters, and there keepe a generall market of bawdrie: not that any filthynesse in deede is committed within the compasse of that grounde, as was doone in Rome, but that euery wanton and his paramour, euery man and his mistresse, euery John and his Joan, euery knaue and his queane, are there first acquainted and cheapen the merchandise in that place, which they pay for elsewhere as they can agree.’ Players at least indirectly to blame for London’s wantonness. P. 37. ‘They seeke not to hurte, but desire too please: they haue purged their comedyes of wanton speaches, yet the corne whiche they sell, is full of cockle, and the drinke that they drawe, ouercharged with dregges.’ Advises those who would avoid offence to avoid the theatre. The abuses are contrary to the Queen’s will. P. 39. ‘How often hath her Maiestie, with the graue aduise of her honorable Councell, sette downe the limits of apparell to euery degree, and how soone againe hath the pride of our harts ouerflowen the chanel? How many times hath accesse to theaters beene restrayned, and how boldly againe haue we reentred. Ouerlashing in apparel is so common a fault, that the very hyerlings of some of our players, which stand at reuersion of vi.s by the weeke, iet vnder gentlemens noses in sutes of silke, exercising themselues too prating on the stage, and common scoffing when they come abrode, where they looke askance ouer the shoulder at euery man, of whom the Sunday before they begged an almes. I speake not this, as though euerye one that professeth the qualitie so abused him selfe, for it is well knowen, that some of them are sober, discreete, properly learned honest housholders and citizens well thought on amonge their neighbours at home, though the pryde of their shadowes (I meane those hangebyes whome they succour with stipend) cause them to bee somewhat il talked of abroade. And as some of the players are farre frome abuse: so some of their playes are without rebuke: which are as easily remembered as quickly reckoned. The twooe prose bookes plaied at the Belsauage, where you shall finde neuer a woorde without wit, neuer a line without pith, neuer a letter placed in vaine. The Iew and Ptolome, showne at the Bull, the one representing the greedinesse of worldly chusers, and bloody mindes of usurers: the other very liuely descrybing how seditious estates, with their owne deuises, false friendes, with their owne swoordes, and rebellious commons in their owne snares are owerthrowne: neither with amorous gesture wounding the eye: nor with slouenly talke hurting the eares of the chast hearers. The Blacke Smiths daughter, and Catilins Conspiracies vsually brought in to the Theater: the first contayning the trechery of Turkes, the honourable bountye of a noble minde, and the shining of vertue in distresse: the last, because it is knowen too be a pig of myne owne sow, I will speake the lesse of it; onely giuing you to vnderstand, that the whole marke which I shot at in that woorke, was too showe the rewarde of traytors in Catilin, and the necessary gouernment of learned men, in the person of Cicero, which forsees euery danger that is likely to happen, and forstalles it continually ere it take effect.... These playes are good playes and sweete playes, and of al playes the best playes and most to be liked, woorthy to bee soung of the Muses, or set out with the cunning of Roscius himself, yet are they not fit for euery mans dyet: neither ought they commonly to bee shewen. Now if any man aske me why my selfe haue penned comedyes in time paste, and inueigh so egerly against them here, let him knowe that Semel insaniuimus omnes: I have sinned, and am sorry for my fault: hee runnes farre that neuer turnes, better late than neuer. I gaue my self to that exercise in hope to thriue but I burnt one candle to seek another, and lost bothe my time and my trauell, when I had doone.’ Deprecates the excuse that plays keep idle heads occupied. P. 42. ‘These because they are allowed to play euery Sunday, make iiii or v Sundayes at least euery weeke, and all that is doone is good for Augustus, to busy the wittes of his people, for running a wool-gathering, and emptie their purses for thriuing to fast.’ Has shown the abuses of players out of profane writers rather than out of the Scriptures. Exhorts against vanity; but, p. 44, ‘if players can promise in woordes, and performe it in deedes, proclame it in their billes, and make it good in theaters; that there is nothing there noysome too the body, nor hurtfull to the soule: and that euerye one which comes to buye their iestes, shall haue an honest neighbour, tagge and ragge, cutte and longe tayle, goe thither and spare not, otherwise I aduise you to keepe you thence, my selfe will beginne too leade the daunce’. Briefly reprehends dancers, tumblers, dicers, carders, and bowlers, and more at length fencers. Epistle to Sir Richard Pipe, Lord Mayor, and the Aldermen.... P. 56. ‘I woulde the abuses of my Schoole were as wel knowen of you, to reformation: as they are found out by other to their owne peril. But the fishe Sepia can trouble the water to shun the nettes, that are shot to catch her: Torpedo hath craft inough at the first touch to inchant the hooke, to coniure the line, to bewitch the rod, and to benumme the handes of him that angleth. Whether our players be the spawnes of such fishes, I know not wel, yet I am sure that how many nets so euer ther be layde to take them, or hookes to choke them, they haue ynke in their bowels to darken the water, and sleights in their budgets, to dry vp the arme of euery magistrate. If their letters of commendations were once stayed, it were easie for you to ouerthrow them.... I doubte not but the gouernours of London will vexe mee for speaking my minde, when they are out of their wittes, and banishe their players, when they are beste aduised.’ Epistle to the Gentlewomen Citizens of London.... P. 58. ‘It is not ... your sober countenance, that defendeth your credite; nor your friends which accompany your person, that excuse your folly; nor your modestie at home, that couereth your lightnesse, if you present your selues in open theaters.... Though you go to theaters to se sport, Cupid may catche you ere you departe.... In deede I muste confesse there comes to playes of all sortes, old and young; it is hard to say that all offend, yet I promise you, I wil sweare for none.’

xxiii. c. 1579. Thomas Lodge.

[Summary and Extracts.] P. 3. ‘There came to my hands lately a litle (would God a wittye) pamphelet, baring a fayre face as though it were the Scoole of Abuse.’ Defends against Gosson poetry, music, and thirdly players, for whose art he claims both ‘antiquity’ and ‘use and comoditye’ as an instrument of moral criticism. P. 24. Of comedies he says, ‘Tulley defines them thus, Comedia (saith he) is imitatio vitae, speculum consuetudinis, et imago veritatis’. P. 27. He has concessions to make. ‘I wish as zealously as the best that all abuse of playinge weare abolished, but for the thing, the antiquitie causeth me to allow it, so it be used as it should be. I cannot allow the prophaning of the Sabaoth. I praise your reprehension in that; you did well in discommending the abuse, and surely I wysh that folly wer disclaymed; it is not to be admitted, it maks those sinne, which perhaps if it were not, would have binne present at a good sermon. It is in the magistrate to take away that order, and appoynt it otherwyse. But sure it were pittie to abolish that which hath so great vertue in it, because it is abused.’ P. 28. He turns on the critic. ‘But, after your discrediting of playmaking, you salue upon the sore somewhat, and among many wise workes there be some that fitte your vaine: The Practice of Parasites is one, which I meruel it likes you so well, since it bites you so sore. But sure in that I like your judgement, and for the rest to, I approue your wit, but for the pigg of your owne sow, (as you terme it) assuredly I must discommend your verdit: Tell me, Gosson, was all your owne you wrote there? did you borow nothing of your neyghbours? Out of what booke patched you out Cicero’s Oration? Whence fet you Catilin’s Inuectiue?.... Beleue me I should preferr Wilson’s Shorte and sweete if I were judge, a peece surely worthe prayse, the practice of a good scholler; would the wiser would ouerlooke that, they may perhaps cull some wisedome out of a player’s toye.’ Assents to Gosson’s rebuke of carders, dicers, fencers, bowlers, dancers, and tumblers.

xxiv. 1579. Stephen Gosson.

[Extracts.] Epistle to Sidney.... Sith it hath beene my fortune to bear sayle in a storme, since my first publishing the Schoole of Abuse ... I can not but acknowledge my safetie, in your Worships patronage. The Ephemerides of Phialo.... I think it necessary, before I set downe the discourses of Phialo ... to whippe out those Doggs, which haue barked ... at mee for writinge the Schoole of Abuse.... It is not long since, a friend of mine presented me with straunge newes out of Affrick [in margin, ‘A Libell cast out against the Schoole of Abuse’] requesting me earnestly to shape them an answere.... I ... unfolded the Paper, and found nothing within but guttes and garbage.... And had not the writer himself, which sent these newes into England, reuealed his name to some of his friends by whom I hearde it, I would haue iudged such a Daw to bee hacht in Barbary, and the tydinges that came, to be scribled in post.... This Doctour of Affrike with a straunge kinde of style begins to write thus: To his frinds the Plaiers ... If Players get no better Atturnie to pleade their case, I will holde mee contented where the Haruest is harde, too take Otes of yl debters in parte of payment.... I intende not to aunswere him.... An Apologie of the Schoole of Abuse.... Such is the skirmishe of our players, who perceiuing the truthe to stand on my side as an armour of proofe; and finding them selues vnappointed for the fielde, keepe a farre off, biting me in corners, casting out libels which are but clay, and rattle on mine armour, or tippe me on the shinnes, without farther hurt.... If plaiers take a little more counsel of their pillowe, they shall finde them selues to be the worste and the daungerousest people in the world.... If Diogenes were nowe aliue, to see the abuses that growe by playes, I beleeue hee would wyshe rather to bee a Londoners hounde than his apprentice, bicause hee rateth his dogge, for wallowing in carrion; but rebukes not his seruaunt for resorting to playes, that are ranke poyson.... We perceiue not ... that players counterfaiting a shewe to make vs merry, shoote their nettes to worke our misery; that when Comedie comes vpon the stage, Cupide sets vpp a Springe for Woodcockes, which are entangled ere they descrie the line, and caught before they mistruste the snare.... Our players, since I set out the Schole of abuse, haue trauailed to some of mine acquaintance of both Vniuersities, with fayre profers, and greater promises of rewardes, yf they woulde take so much paine as too write agaynst mee.... When neither of both Vniuersities would heare their plea, they were driuen to flie to a weake hedge, and fight for themselues with a rotten stake.... It is tolde mee that they haue got one in London to write certaine Honest Excuses, for so they tearme it, to their dishonest abuses which I reuealed.... How he frames his excuses, I knowe not yet, because it is doone in hudder mudder. Trueth can neuer be Falsehods Visarde, which maketh him maske without a torche and keepe his papers very secret.... If the Excuser be the man that is named to me, he is as famous a Clarke as Clauitius Sabinus, which was so troubled with a grosse conceite, and as short a memory, that euery minute he forgote the names of Vlisses, Achilles, Priamus, and such as he knew as well as the Begger his dishe.... I was determined to send you greater matters, touching the saleable toung of Curio, but I stay my handes till I see his booke, when I haue perusd it I will tel you more.

xxv. 1580. Anon.

H. Carr, ‘a ballat intituled comme from the plaie, comme from the playe: the house will fall, so people saye: the earth quakes, lett us hast awaye’.

xxvi. 1580. Anthony Munday (?).

A Ringinge Retraite Couragiouslie sounded, wherein Plaies and Players are fytlie Confounded.

xxvii. 1580. Anthony Munday (?).

[Summary and Extracts.] Anglo-phile Eutheo to the Reader.... P. 99. ‘The first blast in my compt is The Schoole of abuse: a title not vnfitlie ascribed vnto plaies. For what is there which is not abused thereby?... that not vnfitlie they are tearmed, as of late The schoole of abuse, by one; The schoole of Bauderie, by another; The nest of the Diuel, and sinke of al sinne, by a third’ [in margin, ‘M^r Spark in his rehersal sermon at Paules Crosse, 29 of April, Ann. 1579’].... ‘I cal them, A second and third blast ... in respect of the time present, wherein none, that I knowe, besides these Autors haue written, though manie, thanked be God, in the principal places of this land haue, and dailie, yea and openlie do speake against plaies and Theaters.... Touching the Autor of the latter blast, thou maist coniecture who he was, but I maie not name him at this time for my promise sake; yet this do I saie of him, that he hath bine, to vse his verie wordes, A great affecter of that vaine Art of plaie making, &c. Yea, which I ad, as excellent an Autor of those vanities, as who was best.... Praise God, I beseech you, for bringing this Autor, and Maister Gosson, who made the Schoole of Abuse, out of Babylon.’ A second blast of retrait. This is translated from Salvian, De Gubernatione Dei, lib. vi. A third blast of retrait. P. 120. ‘Such doubtles is mine opinion of common plaies, vsual iesting, and riming extempore that in a Christian-weale they are not sufferable. My reason is, because they are publike enimies to virtue, & religion: allurements vnto sinne; corrupters of good manners; the cause of securitie and carelesnes; meere brothel houses of Bauderie: and bring both the Gospel into slander; the Sabboth into contempt; mens soules into danger; and finalie the whole Common-weale into disorder.’ Offers his judgement for what it is worth; describes his experience of plays and the reasons that led him to turn from them. P. 123. ‘I confess that ere this I haue bene a great affecter of that vaine art of Plaie-making, insomuch that I haue thought no time so wel bestowed, as when my wits were exercised in the inuention of those follies.’ P. 125. ‘What I shal speake of the abuse of plaies by my owne knowledge, I know maie be affirmed by hundreds, to whom those matters are as wel knowen as to my selfe. Some citizens wiues, vpon whom the Lord for ensample to others hath laide his hands, haue euen on their death beds with teares confessed, that they haue receiued at those spectacles such filthie infections, as haue turned their minds from chast cogitations, and made them of honest women light huswiues; by them they haue dishonored the vessels of holines; and brought their husbandes into contempt, their children into question, their bodies into sicknes, and their soules to the state of euerlasting damnation.... When I gaue my selfe first to note the abuse of common plaies ... the Theater I found to be an appointed place of Bauderie; mine owne eares haue heard honest women allured with abhominable speeches. Sometime I haue seen two knaues at once importunate vpon one light huswife; whereby much quarel hath growen to the disquieting of manie. There seruants, as it is manifestlie to be prooued, haue consented to rob their maisters, to supplie the want of their harlots; there is the practising with married wiues to traine them from their husbands, and places appointed for meeting and conference. When I had taken a note of all these abuses, & sawe that the Theater was become a consultorie house of Satan, I concluded with my selfe, neuer to imploie my pen to so vile a purpose, nor to be an instrument of gathering the wicked together.’ Apologizes for pressing forward in the cause. The abuse of the Sabbath is the first thing to be put down. P. 128. ‘Let therefore the Magistrate but repel them from the libertie of plaieng on the Sabboth daie, For that is the abuse which is generalie found fault withal, & allowed of none but those who are altogether destitute of the feare of God, and without conscience. To plaie on the Sabboth is but a priuiledge of sufferance, and might with ease be repelled, were it throughlie followed. The warrant which Magistrats have to forbid plaies is great, and passed vnto them by such a Prince, whose auctoritie is aboue al auctorities of earthlie gouernors.... Is not the Sabboth of al other daies the most abused?... Are not our eies (there) carried awaie with the pride of vanitie? our eares abused with amorous, that is lecherous, filthie and abhominable speech? Is not our tong, which was giuen vs onelie to glorifie God withal, is not our tong there imploied to the blaspheming of Gods holie Name; or the commendation of that is wicked? Are not our hartes through the pleasure of the flesh; the delight of the eie; and the fond motions of the mind, withdrawen from the seruice of the Lord, & meditation of his goodnes? So that albe it is a shame to saie it, yet doubtles whosoeuer wil mark with what multitudes those idle places are replenished, & how emptie the Lordes sanctuarie is of his people, may wel perceaue what deuotion we haue.... Alas, what folie is in you, to purchase with a penie damnation to your selues?... The Magistrate is therefore to prouide in time a remedie to redresse the mischiefes that are like to ensue by this common plague.... The Magistrates hart must be as the hart of a Lion. He is not to shrinke in the Lordes cause, or to stand in feare to reforme abuses of the Common-weale, because of some particular men of auctoritie.... Alas, that priuate affection should so raigne in the Nobilitie, that to pleasure, as they thinke, their seruants, and to vphold them in their vanitie, they should restraine the Magistrates from executing their office! What credite can returne to the Noble, to countenance his men to exercise that qualitie which is not sufferable in anie Common-weale? wheras it was an ancient custome, that no man of Honor should reteine anie man, but such as was excellent in some one good qualitie or other, whereby if occasion so serued, he might get his owne liuing? Then was euerie noble mans house a Common-weale in it selfe: but since the reteining of these Caterpillers, the credite of noble men hath decaied, they are thought to be couetous by permitting their seruants, which cannot liue of them selues, and whome for neerenes they wil not maintaine, to liue at the deuotion or almes of other men, passing from countrie to countrie, from one Gentlemans house to another, offering their seruice, which is a kind of beggerie. Who in deede, to speake more trulie, are become beggers for their seruants. For commonlie the goodwil men beare to their lordes, makes them drawe the stringes of their purses to extend their liberalitie to them; where otherwise they would not.... Such like men, vnder the title of their maisters or as reteiners, are priuiledged to roaue abroad, and permitted to publish their mametree in euerie Temple of God, and that through England, vnto the horrible contempt of praier. So that now the Sanctuarie is become a plaiers stage, and a den of theeues and adulterers.... And trust me I am of that opinion, that the Lord is neuer so il serued as on the holie-daies. For then hel breakes loase. Then wee permit our youth to haue their swinge; and when they are out of the sight of their maisters, such gouernment haue they of themselues, that what by il companie they meete withal, & il examples they learne at plaies, I feare me, I feare me their harts are more alienated in two houres from virtue, than againe maie wel be amended in a whole yeare.’ P. 135. Players break the first commandment by profanity. P. 137. Appeal against vanities. ‘Those pleasures of the stage, what are they, but the drifts of Satan?... The foole no sooner showeth himselfe in his colors to make men merrie, but straight-waie lightlie there foloweth some vanitie, not onlie superfluous, but beastlie and wicked. P. 139. Whosoeuer shal visit the chappel of Satan, I meane the Theater, shal finde there no want of yong ruffins, nor lacke of harlots, vtterlie past al shame: who presse to the fore-frunt of the scaffoldes, to the end to showe their impudencie, and to be as an obiect to al mens eies. Yea, such is their open shameles behauior, as euerie man maie perceaue by their wanton gestures, wherevnto they are giuen; yea, they seeme there to be like brothels of the stewes. For often without respect of the place and company which behold them, they commit that filthines openlie, which is horrible to be done in secret; as if whatsoeuer they did, were warranted. For neither reuerence, iustice, nor anie thing beside can gouerne them.’ The shamelessness of young men. ‘Seeke to withdrawe these felowes from the Theater vnto the sermon, they wil saie, By the preacher they maie be edified, but by the plaier both edified and delighted.’ P. 142. Plays are a snare to chastity, both through the examples shown on the stage, and the comments of companions on the scaffolds. ‘The nature of these Comedies are, for the most part, after one manner of nature, like the tragical comedie of Calistus; where the bawdresse Scelestina inflamed the maiden Melibeia with her sorceries.’ P. 144. Examples of the intrigues ‘aptlie taught in the Schoole of abuse.... I am sorie this schoole is not pluckt downe by the magistrate; and the schoole-maisters banished this citie.... The reuerend word of God & histories of the Bible, set forth on the stage by these blasphemous plaiers, are so corrupted with their gestures of scurrilitie, and so interlaced with vncleane, and whorish speeches, that it is not possible to drawe anie profite out of the doctrine of their spiritual moralities.’ P. 145. Attacks the authors of plays. ‘The notablest lier is become the best Poet.... Our nature is led awaie with vanitie, which the auctor perceauing frames himself with nouelties and strange trifles to content the vaine humors of his rude auditors, faining countries neuer heard of; monsters and prodigious creatures that are not; as of the Arimaspie, of the Grips, the Pigmeies, the Cranes, & other such notorious lies. And if they write of histories that are knowen, as the life of Pompeie; the martial affaires of Caesar, and other worthies, they giue them a newe face, and turne them out like counterfeites to showe themselues on the stage.... What doe they leaue behind them? monumentes of wanton wicked life, and doting things for men of these latter daies.... But some perhaps wil saie, The noble man delighteth in such things, whose humors must be contented, partlie for feare, & partlie for commoditie: and if they write matters pleasant, they are best preferred in court among the cunning heads.... Those goodlie persons, if they be voide of virtue, maie wel be counted like faire clothes ouer a foule wal; big bladers ful of wind, yet of no waight.’ P. 147. Attacks the actors. ‘When I see by them yong boies, inclining of themselues vnto wickednes, trained vp in filthie speeches, vnnatural and vnseemlie gestures, to be brought vp by these Schoole-masters in bawderie, and in idlenes, I cannot chuse but with teares and griefe of hart lament.... And as for those stagers themselues, are they not commonlie such kind of men in their conuersation, as they are in profession? Are they not as variable in hart, as they are in their partes? Are they not as good practisers of Bawderie, as inactors? Liue they not in such sort themselues, as they giue precepts vnto others? doth not their talke on the stage declare the nature of their disposition?’ Meets divers objections. P. 148. ‘But they perhaps wil saie, that such abuses as are handled on the stage, others by their examples, are warned to beware of such euils, to amendment.... I cannot by anie means beleeue that the wordes proceeding from a prophane plaier, and vttered in scorning sort, interlaced with filthie, lewde, & vngodlie speeches, haue greater force to mooue men vnto virtue, than the wordes of truth vttered by the godlie Preacher.... If the good life of a man be a better instruction to repentance than the tong, or words, why do not plaiers, I beseech you, leaue examples of goodnes to their posteritie?... Are they not notoriouslie knowen to be those men in their life abroade, as they are on the stage, roisters, brallers, il-dealers, bosters, louers, loiterers, ruffins?... To conclude, the principal end of all their interludes is to feede the world with sights, & fond pastimes; to iuggle in good earnest the monie out of other mens purses into their owne handes.’ P. 150. ‘Some haue obiected, that by these publique places manie forbeare to do euil for feare to be publiquelie reprehended. And for that cause they wil saie it was tolerated in Rome, wherein Emperors were touched, though they were present. But to such it maie be answered, first that in disguised plaiers giuen ouer to al sortes of dissolutenes, is not found so much as a wil to do good, seing they care for nothing lesse than for virtue. Secondlie, that is not a good meanes to correct sinne. For that if it be secret, it ought not to be reuealed openlie, but by such meanes to be reformed as Christ himselfe alloweth in his Gospel.’ P. 151. ‘The antiquitie of plaieng is likewise often vsed for an argument to proue it allowable. But the custome of euil is not to be maintained, because of antiquitie.’ P. 152. A final appeal. ‘The citie Marsiles ... would receaue into it no stage-plaiers.... I would to God the Magistrates of our citie of London would haue the like foresight. The permission of plaies so long a time hath alreadie corrupted this citie; and brought the name of the citizens into slander; the examples of Gods iudgement is at this present an example in this citie.’

xxviii. 1581. Anon.

A Treatise of Daunses, wherein it is showed, that they are as it were accessories and dependants (or things annexed) to whoredom: where also by the way is touched and proved, that Playes are ioyned and knit together in a ranck or rowe with them.

xxix. 1581. John Rainolds.

Excitate studia, paene dixeram iacentia, sed spero meliora. Extinguite Sirenes a studiis auocantes, desidiam, dulce malum: delicias, escam Veneris: conuiuiorum luxum, vanitatem vestium, ludos illiberales, symposia intempestiua, pestes scenicorum, Theatralia spectacula.

xxx. 1582. Stephen Gosson.

[Summary and Extracts.] Epistle to Sir Frances Walsingham. ‘So fareth it this present time with me, which giuing forth my Defiaunce vnto Playes, am mightily beset with heapes of aduersaries.... I thought it necessarye to nettle one of their Orators aboue the rest, not of any set purpose to deface hym, because hee hath dealt very grossely, homely, and vncharitably with me, but like a good Surgeon to cut, & to seare, when the place requireth, for his owne amendment. Which thinge I trust shall neither displease your honor, nor any of the godly, in the reading, so long as the person whom I touch is (as I heare by hys owne frendes, to hys repentance if he can perceiue it) hunted by the heauy hand of God, and become little better than a vagarant, looser than liberty, lighter than vanitie it selfe.’ Plays are an Augean stable to be cleansed. ‘If euer so notable a thinge bee brought to passe it must bee done by some Hercules in the Court, whom the roare of the enimy can neuer daunt.’ Hints that this should be Walsingham. ‘The Gentlemen Players in the citie of London, are growen in such a heate, that by their foming, their fretting, their stampinge, my frendes do perceiue how their harts woorke, and enforce me to bring to your honor no common fraighte, but as much as my life and securitie hereafter shall be woorth. If the prouidence of God, who many times scourgeth a man with the sinne that he loued, haue ordeined those players whom I fed with fancies, to be a whippe to my back, and a dagger to my brest, the fault is mine owne, the punishmente due.’ Epistle to the Universities and Inns of Court. P. 165. ‘I was very willing to write at this time, because I was enformed by some of you which heard it with your ears, that since my publishing the Schole of Abuse, two Playes of my making were brought to the Stage: the one was a cast of Italian deuises, called, The Comedie of Captaine Mario: the other a Moral, Praise at parting. These they very impudently affirme to be written by me since I had set out my inuectiue against them. I can not denie, they were both mine, but they were both penned two yeeres at the least before I forsoke them, as by their owne friends I am able to proue: but they haue got suche a custome of counterfaiting vpon the Stage, that it is growen to a habite, & will not be lefte. God knoweth, before whom to you all I doe protest, as I shall answer to him at the last day, when al hidden secrets shal be discouered, since the first printing of my Inuectiue, to this day, I neuer made Playe for them nor any other.... I departed from the City of London, and bestowed my time in teaching yong Gentlemen in the Countrie, where I continue with a very worshipfull Gentleman, and reade to his sonnes in his owne house.... As sonne as I had inueighed against Playes, I withdrewe my selfe from them to better studies, which so long as I liue I trust to follow.’ The Confutation of Playes. The First Action. The Efficient Cause of Plays. Defends his own change of mind. P. 167. ‘When I firste gaue my selfe to the studie of Poetrie, and to set my cunning abroache, by penning Tragedies and Comedies in the Citte of London: perceiuing such a Gordians knot of disorder in euery play house, as woulde neuer bee loosed without extremitie, I thought it better with Alexander to draw y^e sword that should knappe it a sunder at one stroke, than to seeke ouernisely or gingerly to vndoe it, with the losse of my time and wante of successe. This caused mee to bidde them the base at their owne gole, and to geue them a volley of heathen writers: that our diuines considering the danger of suche houses as are set vp in London against the Lord, might better them thoroughly with greater shotts.’ An incomplete remedy. ‘Acknowledging the mischiefe bred by playes wee hope to auoid yt by changing their day yet suffer them still to remaine amonge vs.... The abhominable practises of playes in London haue bene by godly preachers, both at Paules crosse, and else where so zealously, so learnedly, so loudly cried out vpon to small redresse; that I may well say of them, as the Philosophers reporte of the moouing of the heauens, we neuer heare them, because we euer heare them.’ Notes an answer to him. P. 169. ‘Amongest all the fauorers of these vncircumcised Philistines, I meane the Plaiers, whose heartes are not right, no man til of late durst thrust out his heade to mayntaine there quarrell, but one, in witt, simple; in learning, ignorant; in attempt, rash; in name, Lodge: whose booke, as it came not to my handes in one whole yeere after the priuy printing thereof, so I confesse, that to it, before this time, I aunswered nothing, partlie because he brought nothing; partlie because my hearte was to bigge, to wrastle with him, that wanteth armes. Therefore considering with my selfe that such kinde of sores might bee launced to sone, I chose rather to let him ripen and breake of him selfe, that vomiting out his owne disgrace, & being worne out of fauour among his own friends, I might triumph in the cause & shedde no blood.... Some of his acquaintance haue vaunted to cut and hewe mee, I knowe not howe.’ The Devil is the efficient cause of plays, as noted by Tertullian. P. 171. ‘And William [‘Thomas’ on a cancel in some copies] Lodge in that patchte pamphlet of his ... confesseth openly that playes were consecrated by the heathens to y^e honour of their gods.’ Expounds the policy of the Devil in the matter. P. 172. ‘First hee sente ouer many wanton Italian bookes.... Not contented with the number he hath corrupted with reading Italian baudery, because all cannot reade, [he] presenteth vs Comedies cut by the same paterne, which drag such a monstrous taile after them, as is able to sweep whole Cities into his lap.’ Argues that plays are of idolatrous origin, and disliked by Scipio Nasica and other severer Romans. Rome held players infamous. P. 178. ‘Wherefore I beseech God so to touch the heartes of our Magistrates with a perfite hatred of sinne, and feare of Iudgement; so to stirr vp some noble Scipio in the Courte, that these daunsing Chaplines of Bacchus and all such as set vp these wicked artes, may be driuen out of Englande.’ The Second Action. The Material Cause of Plays. P. 179. ‘Yonge Master Lodge thinking to iett vpon startoppes, and steale an ynche of his hight by the bare name of Cicero, allegeth from him, y^t a Play is the Schoolmistresse of life; the lookinge glasse of manners; and the image of trueth.... It seemeth that Master Lodge saw this in Tullie with other folkes eyes, and not his owne. For to my remembrance I neuer read it in him, neither doe I thinke that Master Lodge can shewe it me.’ Cites passages of Cicero against spectacula. Sets down the matter of plays. P. 180. ‘The argument of Tragedies is wrath, crueltie, incest, iniurie, murther eyther violent by sworde, or voluntary by poyson. The persons, Gods, Goddesses, furies, fiendes, Kinges, Quenes, and mightie men. The grounde worke of Commedies, is loue, cosenedge, flatterie, bawderie, slye conueighance of whoredome; The persons, cookes, queanes, knaues, baudes, parasites, courtezannes, lecherous olde men, amorous yong men.’ Criticizes the Lodge-Cicero metaphor in detail. Plays no schoolmistress of life. ‘The beholding of troubles and miserable slaughters that are in Tragedies, driue vs to immoderate sorrow, heauines, womanish weeping and mourning, whereby we become louers of dumpes, and lamentation, both enemies to fortitude. Comedies so tickle our senses with a pleasanter vaine, that they make vs louers of laughter, and pleasure, without any meane, both foes to temperance. What schooling is this? Sometime you shall see nothing but the aduentures of an amorous knight, passing from countrie to countrie for the loue of his lady, encountring many a terible monster made of broune paper, & at his retorne, is so wonderfully changed, that he can not be knowne but by some posie in his tablet, or by a broken ring, or a handkircher, or a piece of a cockle shell. What learne you by that? When y^e soule of your playes is eyther meere trifles, or Italian baudery, or wooing of gentlewomen, what are we taught?’ Aristotle forbade plays to the young. P. 182. ‘If any goodnes were to be learned at Playes it is likely that the Players them selues which committ euery sillable to memory shoulde profitte most ... but the dayly experience of their behauiour sheweth, that they reape no profit by the discipline them selues.’ Thinks Master Lodge found ‘some peeuish index or gatherer of Tullie to be a sleepe.... Wherein I perceiue hee is no changeling, for he disputeth as soundly being from the vniuersitie and out of exercise, as he did when hee was there, and at his booke.’ P. 183. Plays no glass of behaviour. Manners should not be rebuked where no reply is possible, or before such judges as ‘the common people which resorte to Theaters being but an assemblie of Tailers, Tinkers, Cordwayners, Saylers, olde Men, yong Men, Women, Boyes, Girles, and such like’. The Roman law of libel restrained ‘the ouer-lashing of players’. P. 185. Criticizes [Wilson’s] The Three Ladies of London [cf. ch. xxiii] for making Love detest and Conscience allow plays; also a rival play of London against the Three Ladies. Denies that intention either of poets or players is to profit those they rebuke. P. 187. Plays not the image of truth. P. 188. ‘In Playes either those thinges are fained that neuer were, as Cupid and Psyche plaid at Paules; and a greate many Comedies more at ye Blacke friers and in euery Playe house in London, which for breuities sake I ouer skippe: of if a true Historie be taken in hand, it is made like our shadows, longest at the rising and falling of the Sunne, shortest of all at hie noone. For the Poets driue it most commonly vnto such pointes as may best showe the maiestie of their pen in Tragicall speaches; or set the hearers a gogge with discourses of loue; or painte a fewe antickes to fitt their owne humors with scoffes & tauntes; or wring in a shewe to furnish the Stage when it is to bare; when the matter of it selfe comes shorte of this, they followe the practise of the cobler, and set their teeth to the leather to pull it out. So was the history of Caesar and Pompey, and the Playe of the Fabii at the Theater, both amplified there, where the Drummes might walke, or the pen ruffle; when the history swelled and ran to hye for the number of y^e persons that should playe it, the Poet with Proteus [? Procrustes] cut the same fit to his owne measure; when it afoorded no pompe at al, he brought it to the racke to make it serue.... I may boldely say it because I haue seene it, that the Palace of pleasure, the Golden Asse, the Œthiopian historie, Amadis of Fraunce, the Rounde Table, baudie Comedies in Latine, French, Italian, and Spanish, haue beene throughly ransackt to furnish the Playe houses in London.... Forsooth saith the Authour of the Playe of plays showen at the Theater, the three and twentieth of Februarie last: They shalbe nowe purged, the matter shalbe good.... As for that glosing plaie at y^e Theater which profers you so faire, there is enterlaced in it a baudie song of a maide of Kent, and a little beastly speech of the new stawled roge, both which I am compelled to burie in silence, being more ashamed to vtter them than they.’ Thinks the minority of honest plays a trick of the devil. Repeats his points as to the idolatrous origin of plays and the infamy of players at Rome. The devil makes them alluring. P. 192. ‘For the eye, beeside the beautie of the houses and the Stages, hee sendeth in Gearish apparell, maskes, vauting, tumbling, daunsing of gigges, galiardes, morisces, hobbihorses, showing of iudgeling castes.’ The Third Action. The Formal Cause of Plays. P. 195. ‘The Law of God very straightly forbids men to put on womens garments.’ This is not to be explained away as a prohibition of disguises meant to facilitate adultery, but is absolute. P. 197. ‘In Stage Playes for a boy to put one the attyre, the gesture, the passions of a woman; for a meane person to take vpon him the title of a Prince with counterfeit porte, and traine, is by outwarde signes to shewe them selues otherwise then they are, and so with in the compasse of a lye, which by Aristotles iudgement is naught of it selfe and to be fledde.’ Admits that Gregory Nazianzen and Buchanan wrote plays. ‘To what ende? To be Plaied vpon Stages? neither Players nor their friendes are able to proue it.’ Refutes another objection. P. 198. ‘Let the Author of the playe of playes & pastimes, take heede how he reason y^t action, pronuntiation, agility of body are y^e good gifts of God. Ergo, plaies consisting of these cannot be euill.’ Even the heathens condemned the waste of money in spectacles. The Fourth Action. The Final Cause of Plays. P. 201. The end of plays is sinful delight, as is proved by the admissions of Menander and Terence, ‘By the manner of penning in these dayes, because the Poets send theire verses to the Stage vpon such feete as continually are rowled vp in rime at the fingers endes, which is plaucible to the barbarous, and carrieth a stinge into the eares of the common people. By the obiect, because Tragedies and Commedies stirre vp affections, and affections are naturally planted in that part of the minde that is common to vs with brute beastes.’ Analyses the argument of the Author of the Play of Plays, ‘spreading out his battel to hemme me in’. P. 202. ‘He tyeth Life and Delight so fast together, that if Delight be restrained, Life presently perisheth; there, zeale perceyuing Delight to be embraced of Life, puttes a snafle in his mouth, to keepe him vnder. Delight beinge bridled, Zeale leadeth life through a wildernesse of lothsomenesse, where Glutte scarreth them all, chafing both Zeale and Delight from Life, and with the clubbe of amasednesse strikes such a pegge into the heade of Life, that he falles downe for dead vpon the Stage. Life beinge thus fainte, and ouertrauailed, destitute of his guyde, robbed of Delight, is readie to giue vp the Ghost, in the same place; then entereth Recreation, which with music and singing rockes Life a sleepe to recouer his strength. By this meanes Tediousnesse is driuen from Life, and the teinte is drawne out of his heade, which the club of amasednes left behinde. At last Recreation setteth vp the Gentleman vpon his feete, Delight is restored to him againe, and such kinde of sportes for cullices are brought in to nourishe him, as none but Delighte must applye to his stomache. Then time beinge made for the benefite of Life, and Life being allowed to followe his appetite, amongst all manner of pastimes, Life chooseth Commedies, for his Delight, partly because Commedies are neither chargable to y^e beholders purse, nor painful to his body; partly, because he may sit out of the raine to veiwe the same, when many other pastimes are hindred by wether. Zeale is no more admitted to Life before he be somewhat pinchte in the waste, to auoyde extremitie, and being not in the end simply called Zeale but Moderate Zeale a fewe conditions are prescribed to Comedies, that the matter be purged, deformities blazed, sinne rebuked, honest mirth intermingled, and fitte time for the hearing of the same appointed. Moderate Zeale is contented to suffer them, who wyneth with delight to direct life againe, after which he triumphes ouer Death & is crowned with eternitie.’ P. 203. As Fathers and Councils ‘and y^e skilfulst Deuines at this day in England which are compelled in Sermons to cry out against them’ are challenged by this playmaker, will answer him. Distinguishes between carnal and spiritual delight. Plays bring carnal delight, which is contrary to reason and comes of corruption. The Fifth Action. The Effects of Plays. P. 211. Why should he write against plays, when, although famous men in both universities cry out against plays, ‘none of them by printing haue taken the paines to write any full discouery against them’? Partly because, being young, he will be better excused than they if he ‘shoulde speake but one worde against y^e sleepines of Magistrats which in this case is necessary to be toucht’; partly because, ‘hauing once already written against playes, which no man that euer wrote playes, did, but one, who hath changed his coppy, and turned himself like y^e dog to his vomite, to plays againe, and being falsly accused my selfe to do y^e like, it is needfull for me to write againe’. Declares the effects of plays. Wantonness on the stage excites the passions of the spectators. Theatres are ‘markets of bawdry’. P. 215. ‘Our Theaters, and play houses in London, are as full of secrete adulterie as they were in Rome.... In the playhouses at London, it is the fashion of youthes to go first into the yarde, and to carry theire eye through euery gallery, then like vnto rauens where they spye the carion thither they flye, and presse as nere to y^e fairest as they can.... They giue them pippines, they dally with their garmentes to passe y^e time, they minister talke vpon al occasions, & eyther bring them home to their houses on small acquaintance, or slip into tauerns when y^e plaies are done. He thinketh best of his painted sheath, & taketh himselfe for a iolly fellow, y^t is noted of most, to be busyest with women in all such places.’ The players are an evil in the commonwealth. P. 215. ‘Most of the Players haue bene eyther men of occupations, which they haue forsaken to lyue by playing, or common minstrels, or trayned vp from theire childehood to this abhominable exercise & haue now no other way to get theire liuinge.... In a commonweale, if priuat men be suffered to forsake theire calling because they desire to walke gentleman like in sattine & veluet, with a buckler at their heeles, proportion is so broken, vnitie dissolued, harmony confounded, that the whole body must be dismembred and the prince or the heade cannot chuse but sicken.... Let them not looke to liue by playes; the little thrift that followeth theire greate gaine, is a manifest token that God hath cursed it.’ A final appeal to his countrymen, ending, ‘God is iust, his bow is bent & his arrowe drawen, to send you a plague, if you staye too long’.

xxxi. 1583. John Field.