Chapter 12

—————————— "looke ill-favouredlie,And were alwaies tired beggarlie,So as by smelling and thredbare araie,These folke are knowne and discerned alwaie."[155:A]

—————————— "looke ill-favouredlie,

And were alwaies tired beggarlie,

So as by smelling and thredbare araie,

These folke are knowne and discerned alwaie."[155:A]

An insatiablecuriosityfor seeing strange sights, and hearing strange adventures, together with an eager desire for visiting foreign countries, prevailed in an extraordinary degree during the age of Shakspeare, who has, in several parts of his works, satirized these propensities with much humour. In theTempest, for instance, he has held up to scorn the first of these foibles in an admirable strain of sarcasm:—"A strange fish! Were I in England now, (as once I was,) and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver; there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian[155:B];" a passage which Mr. Douce has very appositely illustrated by a quotation from Batman. "Of late years," says the Gothic Pliny, "there hath been brought into England, the cases or skinnes of such crocodiles to be seene, and much money given for the sight thereof; the policy of strangers laugh at our folly, either that we are too wealthy, or else that we know not how to bestow our money."[155:C]

Of the influence arising from the relation of strange adventures, we have a striking proof in the character of Othello, who won the affections of his mistress by the detail of his "hair-breadth scapes:"—

"Wherein of antres vast, and desarts idle,Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose head touch heavenIt was 'his' hint to speak."[155:D]

"Wherein of antres vast, and desarts idle,

Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose head touch heaven

It was 'his' hint to speak."[155:D]

It appears, indeed, that the conversation of this period very frequently turned upon the wonderful discoveries of travellers, whosevoyages to, and travels in the New World then occupied much of the public attention. Exaggeration, from a love of importance, too often accompanied these narratives, a licence which our poet has happily ridiculed in the following lines:—

—————————————— "When we were boys,Who would believe that there were mountaineersDew-lapp'd like bulls, whose throats had hanging at themWallets of flesh? or that there were such men,Whose heads stood in their breasts? which now we findEach putter-out on five for one, will bring usGood warrant of."[156:A]

—————————————— "When we were boys,

Who would believe that there were mountaineers

Dew-lapp'd like bulls, whose throats had hanging at them

Wallets of flesh? or that there were such men,

Whose heads stood in their breasts? which now we find

Each putter-out on five for one, will bring us

Good warrant of."[156:A]

The close of this passage alludes to a practice then common among the numerous travellers of those times, of putting out their money, especially when about to undertake a long and hazardous journey, for the purpose of receiving exorbitant interest on their return; a custom which, Moryson informs us, originated among the nobility, but before 1617 had become frequent even with men of base condition.[156:B]Thus we find Ben Jonson, in 1599, representing Puntarvolo, inEvery Man out of his Humour, disclosing such a scheme:—"I do intend," says he, "this year of jubilee coming on, to travel: and, because I will not altogether go upon expence, I am determined to put forth somefive thousand pound, to be paid mefive for one, upon the return of myself, my wife, and my dog from the Turk's court in Constantinople. If all or either of us miscarry in the journey, 'tis gone: if we be successful, why there will befive and twenty thousand poundto entertain time withal."[156:C]

To such a height had this passion for travelling attained, that those who were not able to accomplish a distant expedition, crossed over to France or Italy, and gave themselves as many airs on their return, as if they had been to the antipodes; a species of affectation which Shakspeare acutely satirizes in the following terms:—"Farewell,monsieur traveller; look, you lisp, and wear strange suits; disable all the benefits of your own country; be out of love with your nativity, and almost chide God for making you that countenance you are; or I will scarce think you have swam in a gondola."[157:A]

An equally severe castigation has been bestowed on these superficial ramblers, inObservations and Discourses, published by Edward Blount, in 1620, who informs us, that their discourse made them every where ridiculous. "The name of English gelding," he adds, "frights them; and thence they take occasion to fall into the commendation of a mule, or an ass. A pasty of venison makes them sweat, and then swear that the only delicacies be mushrooms, or caveare, or snails. A toast in beer or ale drives them into madness; and so to declaim against the absurd and ignorant customs of their own country, and thereupon digress into the commendation of drinking their wine refreshed with ice or snow."

The pernicious habit ofgaminghad become almost universal in the days of Elizabeth, and, if we may credit George Whetstone, had reached a prodigious degree of excess. Speaking of the licentiousness of the stage previous to the appearance of Shakspeare, he adds,—"But there are in the bowels of this famous citie, farre more daungerous plays, and little reprehended: that wicked playes of the dice, first invented by the devill, (as Cornelius Agrippa wryteth,) and frequented by unhappy men: the detestable roote, upon which a thousand villanies grow.

"The nurses of thease (worse than heathenysh) hellish exercises are places calledordinary tables: of which there are in London, more in nomber to honour the devyll, than churches to serve the living God.

"I cõstantly determine to crosse the streets, where these vile houses (ordinaries) are planted, to blesse me from the inticements of them, which in very deed are many, and the more dangerous in thatthey please with a vain hope of gain. Insomuch on a time, I heard a distemperate dicer solemnly sweare that he faithfully beleeved,that dice were first made of the bones of a witch, and cards of her skin, in which there hath ever sithence remained an inchantment ytwhosoever once taketh delight in either, he shall never have power utterly to leave them, for quoth he, I a hundred times vowed to leave both, yet have not the grace to forsake either."[158:A]

No opportunity for the practice of this ruinous habit seems to have been omitted, and we find the modern mode of gambling, by taking the odds, to have been fully established towards the latter end of the sixteenth century; for Gilbert Talbot, writing to his father, the Earl of Shrewsbury, on May the 15th, 1579, after informing His Lordship, that the matter of the Queen's marriage with Monsieur "is growne very colde," subjoins, "and yet I know a man may take a thousande pounds, in this towne, to be bounde to pay doble so muche when Monsr. cum̃ethe into Inglande, and treble so muche when he marryethe the Q. Matie., and if he nether doe the one nor the other, to gayne the thousande poundes cleare."[158:B]

Duelling, at this period, from its frequency, had given rise to a complicated system of rules for its regulation, and to fixed schools for its practice and improvement. The "Noble Science of Defence," as it was called, included threedegrees, aMaster's, aProvost's, and aScholar's, and for each of these a regular prize was played. In order, also, to obviate disputes, "fourAncient Masters of Defence" were constituted, who resided "in the city of London," and to whom not only difficult points of honour were referred, but tribute was likewise paid by all inferior professors of the science.

Nor were books wanting to explain, and to adjust, the causes, and the modes of quarrelling. Of these the two most celebrated werewritten bySavioloandCaranza, authors who are repeatedly mentioned by Shakspeare, Jonson, and Fletcher. The absurd minuteness of Saviolo's treatise, entitled,Of Honour and honourable Quarrels, 4to. 1595, has been ridiculed with exquisite humour inAs You Like It, where Touchstone says

"O sir, we quarrel in print, by the book;—we met, and found the quarrel was upon the seventh cause.Jaq.How did you find the quarrel on the seventh cause?Touch.Upon a lie seven times removed;—as thus: I did dislike the cut of a certain courtier's beard; he sent me word, if I said his beard was not cut well, he was in the mind it was: This is called theRetort courteous. If I sent him word again, it was not well cut, he would send me word, he cut it to please himself: This is called theQuip modest. If again, it was not well cut, he disabled my judgment: This is call'd theReply churlish. If again, it was not well cut, he would answer, I spake not true: This is call'd theReproof valiant. If again, it was not well cut, he would say, I lie: This is called theCountercheck quarrelsome: and so to theLie circumstantial, and theLie direct.—All these you may avoid, but the lie direct; and you may avoid that too, with anIf. I knew when seven justices could not take up a quarrel; but when the parties were met themselves, one of them thought but of anIf, as,If you said so, then I said so; and they shook hands, and swore brothers. YourIfis the only peace-maker; much virtue inIf."[159:A]

"O sir, we quarrel in print, by the book;—we met, and found the quarrel was upon the seventh cause.

Jaq.How did you find the quarrel on the seventh cause?

Touch.Upon a lie seven times removed;—as thus: I did dislike the cut of a certain courtier's beard; he sent me word, if I said his beard was not cut well, he was in the mind it was: This is called theRetort courteous. If I sent him word again, it was not well cut, he would send me word, he cut it to please himself: This is called theQuip modest. If again, it was not well cut, he disabled my judgment: This is call'd theReply churlish. If again, it was not well cut, he would answer, I spake not true: This is call'd theReproof valiant. If again, it was not well cut, he would say, I lie: This is called theCountercheck quarrelsome: and so to theLie circumstantial, and theLie direct.—All these you may avoid, but the lie direct; and you may avoid that too, with anIf. I knew when seven justices could not take up a quarrel; but when the parties were met themselves, one of them thought but of anIf, as,If you said so, then I said so; and they shook hands, and swore brothers. YourIfis the only peace-maker; much virtue inIf."[159:A]

Nor is this much exaggerated; for Saviolo has a chapter on theDiversity of Lies, and enumerates theLie certain, theconditional Lie, theLie in general, theLie in particular, thefoolish Lie, and thereturning back of the Lie.

A taste forgossipping, as well amongst themaleas female sex, was more than usually prevalent at this epoch. An anonymous writer of 1620, speaking ofmale gossips, describes their trifling and vexatiously intrusive manners, in a way which leads us to conclude, that the evil was severely felt, and of great magnitude:—"It is a wonder," says he, "to see what multitudes there be of all sorts that make this their only business, and in a manner spend their whole time in compliment; as if they were born to no other end, bred to no other purpose, had nothing else to do, than to be a kind of living walking ghosts, to haunt and persecute others with unnecessary observation.—

"If these giddy goers be forced to give a reason for their wheeling up and down the streets, their answer is, they know not else how to pass their time. And how tedious it is, for a man that accounts his hours, to be subject to these vacancies, and apply himself to lose a day with such time-passers; who neither come for business, nor out of true friendship, but only to spend the day; as if one had nothing else to do, but to supply their idle time!—

"After they have asked you how you do, and told some old or fabulous news, laughed twice or thrice in your face, and censured those they know you love not (when, peradventure, the next place they go to, is to them—where they will be as courteous to you); spoke a few words of fashions and alterations;—made legs and postures of the last edition; with three or four diminutive oaths and protestations of their service and observance; they then retire."

Thediminutive oaths, mentioned at the close of this quotation, were, unfortunately, considered as ornaments of conversation, and adopted by both sexes, in order to give spirit and vivacity to their language; a shocking practice, which seems to have been rendered fashionable by the very reprehensible habit of the Queen, whose oaths were neither diminutive nor rare; for it is said, that she never spared an oath in public speech or private conversation when she thought it added energy to either. After this example in the highest classes, we need not be surprised when Stubbes tells us, speaking of the great body of the people, that, "if they speake but three or four words, yet they must be interlaced with a bloudie oath or two."

These abominable expletives appear to have formed no small share of the language ofcompliment, a species of simulation which was carried to an extraordinary height in the days of our poet: thus Marston, describing the finished gallant, says,—

———————— "Marke nothing but his clothes,His new stamptcomplement, hiscannon oathes;Marke those."[160:A]

———————— "Marke nothing but his clothes,

His new stamptcomplement, hiscannon oathes;

Marke those."[160:A]

Decker, apostrophising the courtiers of his day, and playing upon a term of Guido's musical scale, exclaims,—"You courtiers, that do nothing but sing the gamut A-Re ofcomplimental courtesy[161:A];" and Shakspeare, painting this

———— "sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth."

represents the Bastard in hisKing John, thus addressing a travelled fop:—

—————————————— "My dear sir,(Thus leaning on mine elbow, I begin,)I shall beseech you—That is question now;And then comes answer like an A B C book:—O sir, says answer,at your best command;At your employment; at your service, sir:—No, sir, says question,I, sweet sir, at yours:And so, ere answer knows what question would,(Saving in dialogue ofcompliment;And talking of the Alps, and Appennines,The Pyrenean, and the river Po,)It draws toward supper."[161:B]

—————————————— "My dear sir,

(Thus leaning on mine elbow, I begin,)

I shall beseech you—That is question now;

And then comes answer like an A B C book:—

O sir, says answer,at your best command;

At your employment; at your service, sir:—

No, sir, says question,I, sweet sir, at yours:

And so, ere answer knows what question would,

(Saving in dialogue ofcompliment;

And talking of the Alps, and Appennines,

The Pyrenean, and the river Po,)

It draws toward supper."[161:B]

"What a deal of synamon and ginger is sacrificed to dissimulation," observes Sir William Cornwallis in 1601, "O, how blessed do I take mine eyes for presenting me with this sight! O Signior, the star that governs my life is contentment, give me leave to interre myself in your arms!—Not so, sir, it is too unworthy an inclosure to contain such preciousness, &c.This, and a cup of drink, makes the time as fit for a departure as can be."[161:C]

A peculiar species of compliment existed among the scientific and literary characters of our author's times, in permitting those who looked up to them with reverence and esteem, to address them by the endearing appellation ofFather; adopting them, in fact, as their literary offspring, and designating them, in their works, by the title ofsons. In conformity with this custom, Ben Jonson adopted not less than twelve or fourteen persons for his sons, among whom were, Cartright, Randolph, Brome, &c.; and the practice continued to be observed until the end of the seventeenth century; for in 1676, Charles Cotton dedicated his Complete Angler to his "most worthyfatherand friend, Mr. Izaak Walton, the elder;" and says in the body of his work, "he gives me leave to call himFather, and I hope is not yet ashamed of hisAdopted Son."[162:A]

This complimental paternity Shakspeare has introduced in hisTroilus and Cressida, where Ajax, addressing Nestor, says,—"Shall I call you father?" to which the venerable Grecian replies, "Ay, my good son."[162:B]

To this sketch of manners, we shall add a brief account of some customs, which more peculiarly belong to the province of Police, commencing with the inaugural ceremonies attendant on the Lord Mayor's entrance on the duties of his office. The pageantry and magnificence which once accompanied this periodical assumption of power, may be estimated from the following description, taken from a manuscript, written in 1575:—

"The day of St. Simon and Jude he (the Mayor) entrethe into his estate and offyce: and the next daie following he goeth by water to Westmynster, in most tryumplyke maner. His barge beinge garnished with the armes of the citie: and nere the sayd barge goeth a shyppbote of the Queenes Matie, beinge trymed upp, and rigged lyke a shippe of warre, with dyvers peces of ordinance, standards, penons, and targetts of the proper armes of the sayd Mayor, the armes of the Citie, of his company; and of the marchaunts adventurers, or of the staple, or of the company of the newe trades; next before hym goeth the barge of the lyvery of his owne company, decked with their owne proper armes, then the bachelers barge, and so all the companies in London, in order, every one havinge their owne proper bargegarnished with the armes of their company. And so passinge alonge the Thamise, landeth at Westmynster, where he taketh his othe in Thexcheker, beffore the judge there, (whiche is one of the chiefe judges of England,) whiche done, he returneth by water as afforsayd, and landeth at powles wharfe, where he and the reste of the Aldermen take their horses, and in great pompe passe through the greate streete of the citie, called Cheapside. And fyrste of all cometh ij great estandarts, one havinge the armes of the citie, and the other the armes of the Mayor's company; next them ij drommes and a flute, then an ensigne of the citie, and then about lxx or lxxx poore men marchinge ij and two togeather in blewe gownes, with redd sleeves and capps, every one bearinge a pyke and a target, wheron is paynted the armes of all them that have byn Mayor of the same company that this newe mayor is of. Then ij banners one of the kynges armes, the other of the Mayor's owne proper armes. Then a sett of hautboits playinge, and after them certayne wyfflers, in velvett cotes, and chaynes of golde, with white staves in their handes, then the pageant of tryumphe rychly decked, whereuppon by certayne fygures and wrytinges, some matter touchinge justice, and the office of a maiestrate is represented. Then xvj trompeters viij and viij in a company, havinge banners of the Mayor's company. Then certayne wyfflers in velvet cotes and chaynes, with white staves as aforesayde. Then the bachelers ij, and two together, in longe gownen, with crymson hoodes on their shoulders of sattyn; which bachelers are chosen every yeare of the same company that the Mayor is of, (but not of the lyvery,) and serve as gentlemen on that and other festivall daies, to wayte on the Mayor, beinge in nomber accordinge to the quantetie of the company, sometimes sixty or one hundred. After them xij trompeters more, with banners of the Mayor's company, then the dromme and flute of the citie, and an ensigne of the Mayor's company, and after, the waytes of the citie in blewe gownes, redd sleeves and cappes, every one havinge his silver coller about his neck. Then they of the liverey in their longe gownes, every one havinge his hood on his lefte shoulder, halfe black andhalfe redd, the nomber of them is accordinge to the greatnes of the companye whereof they are. After them followe Sheriffes officers, and then the Mayor's officers, with other officers of the citie, as the comon sargent, and the chamberlayne; next before the Mayore goeth the sword-bearer, having on his headd, the cappe of honor, and the sworde of the citie in his right hande, in a riche skabarde, sett with pearle, and on his left hand goeth the comon cryer of the citie, with his great mace on his shoulder, all gilt. The Mayor hathe on a long gowne of skarlet, and on his lefte shoulder, a hood of black velvet, and a riche coller of gold of SS. about his neck, and with him rydeth the olde Mayor also, in his skarlet gowne, hood of velvet, and a chayne of golde about his neck. Then all the Aldermen ij and ij together, (amongst whom is the Recorder), all in skarlet gownes; and those that have byn Mayors, have chaynes of gold, the other have black velvett tippetts. The ij Shereffes come last of all, in their black skarlet gownes and chaynes of golde.

"In this order they passe alonge through the citie, to the Guyldhall, where they dyne that daie, to the number of 1000 persons, all at the charge of the Mayor and the ij Shereffes. This feast costeth 400l., whereof the Mayor payeth 200l., and eche of the Shereffes 100l.Imediately after dyner, they go the churche of St. Paule, every one of the aforesaid poore men, bearrynge staffe torches and targetts, whiche torches are lighted when it is late, before they come from evenynge prayer."[164:A]

Had the police of the city been as strictly regulated, as were the ceremonies attending the inauguration of its chief magistrate, the inhabitants of London, in Queen Elizabeth's days, would have had little cause of complaint, with regard to personal protection; but,though theStatutes of the Streetswere numerous and rigid, and sometimes ridiculously minute, for No. 22. enacts, that "no man shall blowe any horne in the night, within this citie, or whistle after the houre of nyne of the clock in the night, under paine of imprisonment[165:A]," yet they were so ill executed, that, even in the day-time, disturbances of the most atrocious kind were deemed matters of common occurrence. Thus Gilbert Talbot and his wife, writing to the Earl and Countess of Shrewsbury, consider the following acts of violence astrifling matters:—"On Thursday laste, (Feb. 13th, 1587,) as my Lorde Rytche was rydynge in the streates, there was one Wyndam that stode in a dore, and shotte a dagge at him, thynkynge to have slayne him; but God p˜vyded so for my L. Rytche, that this Wyndam apoyntynge his servante ytmornynge to charge his dagge wthIIbulletts, the fellow, doubtinge he mente to doe sum myschefe wthit, charged it only wthpowder and paper, and no bullett; and so this L'. lyfe was thereby saved, for otherwyse he had beene slayne. Wyndam was p˜sently taken by my L. Rytche's men, and, beynge broughte before the Counsell, confessed his intende, but the cause of his quarrell I knowe not; but he is com̄ytted to the Towre. Thesame daye, also, as SrJohn Conway was goynge in the streetes, MrLodovyke Grevell came sodenly uppon him, and stroke him on the hedd wtha sworde, and but for one of SrJohn Conwaye's men, who warded the blow, he had cutt of his legges; yet did he hurte him sumwhat on bothe his shynns: The Councell sente for Lodovyke Grevell, and have com̄ytted him to the Marchallcye. I am forced to trouble yorHonors wththestryflynge matters, for I know no greater."[165:B]

Yet a sufficient number of watchmen, constables, and justices of the peace, was not wanting. Of these, the first were armed with halberds, which, in Shakspeare's time, were calledbills, and they usually carried a lanthorn in one hand, and sometimes a bell in theother, resting the halberd on the shoulder.[166:A]Notwithstanding these official characters, however, the peace of the city was frequently more effectually preserved by the interference of the apprentices, than by that of the appointed guardians of public order; for it appears, from Shakspeare's dramas, that the cry ofClubs!was a signal for the apprentices to arm themselves with these weapons, and quell the disturbance. Thus inKing Henry the Eighth, act v. sc. 3., the Porter's man says:—"I hit that woman who cried out,clubs!when I might see from far some forty truncheoneers draw to her succour, which were the hope of the Strand[166:B];" and inHenry the Sixth, Part the First, even the Mayor of London is represented, on occasion of a quarrel between the partizans of the Duke of Gloucester and the Cardinal of Winchester, as threatening to call in similar assistance:—

"I'll call forclubs, if you will not away."[166:C]

We cannot wonder that the inferior officers of the Police should be slack in the performance of their duty, when we recollect, that the Justices of the Peace, in these days, especially those resident in the metropolis, were so open to bribery, that many of them obtained the appellation ofBasket Justices; nor did a member of the House of Commons hesitate, during the reign of Elizabeth, to describe a justice of the peace as "an animal who for half a dozen of chickens would readily dispense with a dozen penal laws."[166:D]

Many customs of a miscellaneous nature might with ease be extracted from the dramas of our poet; but to give them any relative bearing or concatenation would be nearly impossible, and a totally insulated detail of minute circumstances, would prove tedious to themost persevering reader. Enough, we trust, has been collected to throw no feeble light on the general manners and modes of living, of the period under consideration, especially if it be recollected that the full picture is to be formed from a combination of this with the similar chapter, in a former part of the work, on the costume of rural life.

FOOTNOTES:

[89:A]Holinshed, vol. i. p. 289, 290.—Harrison's Description of England.

[90:A]Paul Hentzner's Travels in England: translated by Lord Orford. Edward Jeffery's edit. 8vo. 1797. p. 34, 35.

[91:A]Nugæ Antiquæ apud Park, vol. i. p. 361.

[91:B]Ibid. p. 170.

[91:C]Ibid. p. 118.

[92:A]Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xviii. p. 526, 527. note 2.

[92:B]Ibid. vol. vi. p. 63. Much Ado About Nothing, act ii. sc. 3.

[93:A]Reed's Shakspeare, vol. vii. p. 314. Act iii. sc. 2.

[93:B]Ibid. vol. iv. p. 289. Act iv. sc. 4.

[93:C]"The English Ape, The Italian Imitation, The Foote-Steppes of Fraunce," a black-letter tract, dated 1588; for an account of which see Beloe's Anecdotes, vol. ii. p. 260.

[93:D]Vide Reed's Shakspeare, vol. vi. p. 64. note by Malone.

[94:A]Reed's Shakspeare, vol. v. p. 128.

[94:B]"Christ's Tears over Jerusalem," 4to. 1594.

[94:C]"Quippes for upstart new fangled Gentlewemen: or a Glasse, to view the pride of vain glorious Women," 4to. 1595.—Vide Restituta, vol. iii. p. 255.

[94:D]Vide Strutt's Customs, vol. iii. plate 22. fig. 9.

[94:E]Restituta, vol. iii. p. 256.

[95:A]Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xviii. p. 154.

[95:B]Strutt's Customs, vol. iii. plate 12.

[95:C]Restituta, vol. iii. p. 256.

[95:D]Anatomie of Abuses, 4to. p. 59.

[95:E]Restituta, vol. iii. p. 257.

[97:A]Anatomie of Abuses, 4to. p. 43.

[97:B]Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iv. p. 248.

[97:C]See Katharine's Gown, in Taming of the Shrew, Reed's Shakspeare, vol. ix. p. 157.

[98:A]Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xviii. p. 144.—Mr. Douce has given a plate of thechopine, in his second volume on Shakspeare, p. 234.

[98:B]Restituta, vol. iii. p. 257.

[99:A]"In a list of jewels given to the Queen at New-years tide, 1589, is 'A fanne of fethers, white and redd, the handle of golde, inamaled with a halfe moone of mother of perles, within that a halfe moone garnished with sparks of dyamonds, and a few seede perles on the one side, having her Majestie's picture within it; and on the back-side a device with a crowe over it. Geven by Sir Frauncis Drake.'"—Nichols's Progresses, vol. ii. p. 54. note.

[99:B]Reed's Shakspeare, vol. v. p. 80.; vol. xi. p. 261. &c. &c.

[99:C]Ibid. vol. xv. p. 46. Act i. sc. 3.

[99:D]Ibid. vol. ix. p. 349. 352. Winter's Tale, act iv. sc. 3.

[99:E]Stowe's Annals, by Howes, edit 1614. p. 868.

[99:F]Reed's Shakspeare, vol. vii. p. 72. note.

[100:A]Anatomy of Melancholy, folio, 8th edit. p. 293, 294. 307.—In Vaughan's "Golden Grove," also, the first edition of which appeared in 1600, may be found some curious notices on "superfluitie of apparell" with regard to both sexes; he tells us that the women in the early ages of the world "imitated not hermaphrodites, in wearing of men's doublets. They wore no chaines of gold, &c.—they went not clothed in velvet gownes, nor in chamlet peticotes. They smelt not unto pomander, civet, muske, and such lyke trumperies."

[101:A]The Court and Character of King James. Written and taken by Sir A. W. being an eye, and ear witnesse. 12mo. 1650. p. 180, 181.

[101:B]Nugæ Antiquæ, vol. i. pp. 391, 392.

[102:A]Decker's Gull's Hornbook, reprint of 1812, pp. 83. 87.

[102:B]Reed's Shakspeare, vol. ix. p. 175.

[102:C]Ibid. vol. xvii. p. 467.—Caps were usually worn by the lower class, see vol. vi. p. 89.

[102:D]Ibid. vol. vi. p. 357.

[102:E]Bottom, inMidsummer Night's Dream, mentions also a straw-coloured, an orange-tawny, a purple-in-grain, and a perfect yellow, beard, act i. sc. 2.

[102:F]See Jaques's description of the Seven Ages inAs You Like It, act ii. sc. 7.

[103:A]Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xii. p. 399.

[103:B]Jervis Markham has an allusion to this custom in his Treatise entitledHonour in Perfection, 4to., p. 18.

[103:C]Frequent references to these fashions may be found in our author; vide Reed's Shakspeare, vol. vi. p. 162; vol. ix. p. 242, and vol. x. p. 355. Jonson and Fletcher also abound with them; and see that curious exposition of fashionable follies, Decker's Gull's Hornbook, Reprint, p. 86. 137, &c.

[103:D]Vide Stowe's Annals, p. 869.—The divisions, or pieces of the brim of the collar or ruffe, were, according to Cotgrave's Dictionary, 1611, termedpiccadillies. And the author of London and its Environs described, tells us, that inPiccadilly"there were formerly no houses, and only one shop for Spanish ruffs, which was called thePiccadillyorruffshop." Vide vol. v.

[104:A]Strutt's Customs, vol. iii. p. 85.—The next age saw this absurd mode of dress revived: and Bulmer, in hisPedigree of the English Gallant, relates, that, when the law was in force against the use ofbags for stuffing breeches, a man was brought before a court of justice, charged with wearing the prohibited article, upon which, in order to refute the accusation, he produced from within "a pair of sheets, two table cloths, ten napkins, four shirts, a brush, a glass, a comb, night-caps, &c." p. 548.

[104:B]In the first volume of the Antiquarian Repertory, it is recorded, that "Nailer came through London apparelled in a doublet and galey-gascoigne breeches, all of crimsin satin, cut and raced."

[104:C]Luc.A round hose, madam, now's not worth a pin,Unless you have a cod-piece to stick pins on.Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iv. p. 236.Thomas Wright in his "Passions of the Minde," first published in 1601, speaking of our countrymen's proneness to imitate French fashions, tells us in his chapter entitled "Discoverie of Passions in Apparell,"—"Some I have heard very contemptuously say, that scarcely a new forme of breeches appeared in the French King's kitchin but they were presently translated over into the court of England."

[104:C]

Luc.A round hose, madam, now's not worth a pin,Unless you have a cod-piece to stick pins on.

Luc.A round hose, madam, now's not worth a pin,

Unless you have a cod-piece to stick pins on.

Reed's Shakspeare, vol. iv. p. 236.

Thomas Wright in his "Passions of the Minde," first published in 1601, speaking of our countrymen's proneness to imitate French fashions, tells us in his chapter entitled "Discoverie of Passions in Apparell,"—"Some I have heard very contemptuously say, that scarcely a new forme of breeches appeared in the French King's kitchin but they were presently translated over into the court of England."

[105:A]Bishop's Blossoms.—Vide Reed's Shakspeare, vol. xviii. p. 197.

Back to Index Next