now pay the penalty of his iniquity. In vain his companions proffer their aid:

'2ND SCHOL. Oh, what shall we do to save Faustus? FAUST. Talk not of me, but save yourselves and depart.

3RD SCHOL. God will strengthen me. I will stay with Faustus. IST SCHOL. Tempt not God, sweet friend; but let us into the next room, and there pray for him.

FAUST. Ay, pray for me, pray for me!'

The sequel is almost too terrible, too heartrending to read, and what it can have been to see acted on a stage, and by such a man as Alleyn, is beyond conception. Rising fresh from the perusal of the awful final scene it scarcely seems incredible that what old Prynne has recorded should have found believers. He affirms that in Queen Elizabeth's time the visible apparition of the Devil appeared 'on the stage at the Belsavage Playhouse (to the great amazement both of the actors and the spectators) whilst they were there prophanely playing The History of Faustus, the truth of which I have heard,' avers the old puritan libeller, 'from many now alive, who well remember it, there being some distracted with that fearefull sight.'94

It needed no devil from hell to accentuate the horrors of that play. No finer sermon than Marlowe's Faustus was ever preached! No more terrible an exposition was ever offered of the ruin man can bring upon himself by permitting his grosser passions to overpower him. With the victim's frightful end before us, so impassioned and yet seeming so true to nature-could nature be so tried-that we would wish

to exclude it from our minds; with his agonising cry ringing in our heads; his last despairing shriek echoing in our hearts, we close the book reverently, joining in the solemn monody of Chorus:

'Cut is the branch that might have grown full straight,
And burned is Apollo's laurel bough.'

It is most unfortunate that this splendid apotheosis of Conscience has only been preserved in a disfigured and dislocated condition. 'Fond and frivolous' scenes, and the 'conceits of clownage' were foisted in between the sublime phantasies of the poet, to gain plaudits from the groundlings. This grand conception of genius can now only be beheld bedecked with the tawdry habiliments in which hack hirelings of the period attired it. Lines and pas

sages have been left out, and miserable comicalities inserted, so that what has been left for posterity to judge by is but the mutilated torso of a stupendous broken colossus, overgrown by a network of poisonous weed and hideous fungus. Every one of critical capacity must long for, were it possible, the disentanglement of Marlowe's text from these degrading interpolations.

With reference to the introduction of these buffooneries into the midst of such solemn business as Faustus contains, one of the latest of Marlowe's editors points out that he 'could not don alternately the buskin and the sock. His fiery spirit walked always on the heights; no ripple of laughter reached him as he scaled the "high pyramides" of tragic art.

But while the poet was pursuing his airy path, the actors at the Curtain theatre had to look after their own interests. They knew that though they should speak with the tongues of angels, yet the audience would turn a deaf ear unless some comic business were provided. Accordingly they employed some hack writer, or perhaps a member of their own company, to furnish what was required. How execrably he performed his task is only too plain.'

95

Towards the close of 1588 an incident occurred in Marlowe's career, the cause of which cannot be thoroughly explained, although the following details may suggest a plausible reason for it. As is so well known, the civic authorities of London disapproved of all theatrical entertainments within the metropolis, and during the reign of Elizabeth continually promulgated severe edicts against any such performances taking place within the city boundaries. This was not altogether due to the puritan element in the corporation, although that had no little to do with the evil repute stage-acting bore among sober-minded citizens, as to the idea that such pernicious enticements allured and led into all kinds of vicious company their apprentices and the youthful members of their households.

Mr. William Prynne's work, The Player's Scourge or Actor's Tragedie, is believed to have had not only readers but admirers among the more industrious and godly-minded members of the city companies, and many of them were believers in the author's theory

that popular stage-plays were 'the very Pompes of the Divell,' and that the 'profession of Play-poets, of Stage-players; together with the penning, acting, and frequenting of Stage-playes are unlawfull, infamous, and misbeseeming Christians'; are, indeed, as unlawful as 'Dancing, Dicing, Health-drinking,' and such other disgusting proceedings. This being the confirmed opinion of many of the leading citizens, it is not surprising to find that the civic authorities took very stringent measures to prevent their city being contaminated by the presence of actors within its precincts.

In consequence of certain players about this period having been accused of referring to 'matters of Divinity and State, without judgment or decorum,' and contrary to the Queen's commandment that neither matters of religion nor of the governaunce of the estate of the commonweale shalbe handled or treated,' Edward Tylney, Master of the Revels, wrote to Lord Burleigh, 'that he utterly mislikes all plays within the city.' Thereupon Lord Burleigh informed the Lord Mayor of Mr. Tylney's displeasure with the companies of players in the service of the Lord Admiral and of Lord Strange, and enjoined him to stay them,' which his civic lordship gladly availed himself of the long-desired opportunity to do. He 'sent for both companies and gave them strict charge to forbear playing till further orders. The Lord Admiral's players obeyed; but the Lord Strange's, in a contemptuous manner, went

to the Cross Keyes' (in Gracechurch Street) 'and played that afternoon. Upon which the Mayor committed two of them to the Compter, and prohibited all playing for the future, till the' (Lord) 'Treasurer's pleasure was further known.'96

This proceeding on the part of the Lord Mayor shows what power the city authorities exercised within their own jurisdiction, and should throw some light upon an affair in which Marlowe himself bore a principal part. Meanwhile, in explanation if not in extenuation of the autocratic method exercised by those in authority of dealing with both authors and actors of dramas in those days, it should be pointed out what power, for good or evil, was then exercised by the Stage. At that time the Stage," to a great extent, possessed the influence which in a later age passed to the Press. Having no daily journals or other accessible means of rapid and general communication on topics of common interest, the public looked to and found what it wanted in the Stage. The play supplied references to the political, religious, and social events of the day. Writers and players found their profit in responding to the popular feeling of their audience, and although many times fine and imprisonment rewarded their attempt to meddle with matters of state, they persisted in their efforts. 'Statesmen wanted the Stage to be a mere amusement,' said Richard Simpson, 'to beguile the attention of the hearers from graver matters; the English stage-poets felt they had a