by Robert Nye
We had a great metal bowl with a cannon ball in it. This was our thunder for The Tempest (and King Lear). Ben Jonson makes fun of our effects in the prologue to his Bartholomew Fair, offering ironic excuses for not having sought applause by staging monsters (an allusion to Caliban), and for hesitating to unleash nature, ‘like those that beget Tales, Tempests’. Mr Jonson missed the point, as usual. It was not the stage properties that made The Tempest so moving and so memorable. It was the words.
Too old for Miranda, I took the part of Ariel. But there was more to this casting than the matter of my age. I think that Shakespeare wrote the part of Ariel for me, since Ariel is a spirit, something beyond man or woman. I had served my master well, and I had gone for him through the female and the male. In Ariel he recognised and rewarded my service in the sexual journey, the ways in which I had enacted on the stage the secret dreams and dramas of his heart. He set me forth now as a creature neither male nor female, and beyond either condition. Then, at the play’s end, he set me free, even as he freed himself in the person of Prospero. No doubt it was his recognition that he had ruined my life, even as he had also made me.
If I could, would I fly backwards from the garden and up onto the wall, and unsing Polly Dear, and never know him?
I would not.
I am happy enough to be Ariel.
Call me a little epitome of the leavings of Dame Nature’s workshop, a compound of all sorts and sexes, a wheyfaced hermaphrodite. I shall not care to quarrel with those callings. I am what I am, and William Shakespeare made me.
Note Ariel’s last words to Prospero, my words to Mr Shakespeare in that part:
Was’t well done?
That is the only question I care to ask. His answer to it, spoken aside, still more than contents me:
Bravely, my diligence. Thou shalt be free.
I always took that for my approbation. My master’s approval of my career in his service. Not that I am free, not yet, not quite. Nor shall be till I have finished with this my book.
John Spencer Stockfish played the part of Miranda. John Spencer Stockfish had several qualities in common with Susanna Shakespeare, so shall we say that this part suited him down to the ground?
John Spencer Stockfish was my Caliban, madam.
John Spencer Stockfish was a shit, sir, yes.
Chapter Ninety-Five
Pickleherring’s list of things despaired of
I once heard Dr Donne preaching in St Paul’s. He spoke of ‘that glorious creature, that first creature, the Light.’ The remembrance that the Light was the first created thing has stayed with me since. I always recall it when I get up early and witness the dawn, as today.
This morning I met Pompey Bum on the stairs. The sun not long risen, that greased, cruel, potbelly whoremaster was already drunk. He sat at the turning of the bannisters, his mouth agape and drivelling. He was reading a book, with his bottle beside him. His eyes went to and fro. He read from left to right, lips moving, silently, then bent to kiss the page where he had read it. He wept and trembled. Then he burst out with a lamentable cry, saying, ‘What shall I do to be saved?’
When I asked him what he meant, he wept the more. Then he told me that he was for certain informed that this our city of London will be burnt with fire from heaven, in which fearful overthrow we shall all miserably come to ruin.
I comforted my landlord as I could, and advised him to take more water with it.
Then I came in here to attend to my Aeolian harp. But the day is close and windless, and the strings will not speak.
The end of my book is in sight, yet there are a number of things which I meant to include in it but which now there will be no room for. Fatigue and my lack of competence may be blamed. All these are matters recorded on notes, which I have accumulated in my boxes, but which now it is too late to work into the fabric of my book. Here is a list of things despaired of, things that belong in my Life of William Shakespeare but which now I must leave for others to write about:
Abraham men alarums aprons mountant
artichokes asphodel aspic
aunts bankrout beggars barber-surgeons
Basimecu bat-fowling bed-pressers
bed-swervers Belgia bogs
bona-robas bonfires bottom-grass
breaking wind brewers bubukles
bullets cabbage cabinets
caddis-garters cannibals cataplasm
catastrophe (tickling of) caudle-cups chop-logic
christom children clergy in WS’s works cock-fighting
comfits cony-catchers copyright
cries of London cross-gartering Cutpurse Moll
dropsy Dudley Digges duelling
dulcimers eclipses eglantine
elephants elixirs endives
eringo excursions faggots
fairies falcons fern-seed
fewmets fleas fools (at Court)
fools (on stage) football fustian
galliards ghosts giants
glanders (in horses) glow-worms grace (at meals)
hair-pins handkerchiefs hautboys
heart-burn hedgehogs hemlock
hobby-horses howlets humours (the 4)
impresas Ireland jennets
Jones, Inigo jordans Kendal green
knot gardens l adysmocks lethargy
mackerel maggot-pie mandragora
marchpane medlars mermaids
microcosm motley mumchance
Neapolitan bone-ache novum quinque nutmeg
oats onions oranges
osprey ouches palsy
pantofles partelets passing-bells
passy-measures peasecod pissing-conduits
plainsong poking-sticks politics
poor-laws porcupine potatoes
prickets pricksong progresses (royal)
projection (alchemical) pumpions quotidian fever
ragged robin raisins rascal (deer)
Ratsey the highwayman rebatoes Rhenish
rogero (dance) salamanders shoemakers
silkworms slops slugs
snapdragon snipe soap (cost of)
sorcerers (Lapland) spoons still music
strawberries sublimation (in alchemy) sweating sickness
table manners tadpoles tinkers
tooth-brushes trash (of hounds) troll-my-dames
tuckets valerian Venus’ glove
Vice (in moralities) walnuts wasters
whirligigs wild-goose-chasing wormwood
Chapter Ninety-Six
Shakespeare’s Will* (with notes by Pickleherring)
In the name of god Amen I William Shakespeare of Stratford upon Avon in the countie of Warr gent in perfect health & memorie god be praysed doe make & Ordayne this my last will & testament in manner & forme followeing. That is to saye ffirst I Comend my Soule into the handes of god my Creator, hoping & assuredlie beleeving through thonelie merittes of Jesus Christe my Saviour to be made partaker of lyfe everlasting, And my bodye to the Earth whereof yt is made.
Item I Gyve & bequeath unto my sonne-in-L† daughter Judyth One Hundred & ffyftie poundes of lawfull English money to be paied unto her in manner & forme followeing; That ys to saye, One Hundred Poundes in discharge of her marriage porcion within one yeare after my deceas, with consideration after the Rate of twoe shillinges in the pound for soe long tyme as the same shalbe unpaied unto her after my deceas, & the ffytie poundes Residewe thereof upon her Surrendring of, or gyving of such sufficient securitie as the overseers of this my will shall like of to Surrender or graunte, All her estate & Right that shall discend or come unto her after my deceas or that shee nowe hath of in or to one Copiehold tenemente with thappurtenaunces lyeing & being in Stratford upon Avon aforesaied in the saied countie of Warr, being parcell or holden of the mannour of Rowington, unto my daughter Susanna Hall & her heires for ever.
Item I Gyve & bequeath unto my saied daughter Judith One Hundred & ffytie Poundes more if shee or Anie issue of her bodie be Lyvinge att thend of three Yeares next ensueing the daie of th
e date of this my will, during which tyme my executours to paie her consideracion from my deceas according to the Rate aforesaied. And if she dye within the said terme without issue of her bodye then my will ys & I doe gyve & bequeath One Hundred Poundes thereof to my Neece Elizabeth Hall & the ffiftie Poundes to be sett fourth by my executours during the lief of my Sister Johane Harte & the use & profitt thereof Cominge shalbe payed to my saied Sister Jone, & after her deceas the saied lli shall Remaine Amongst the children of my saied Sister Equallie to be devided Amongst them. But if my saied daughter Judith by lyving att thend of the saied three Yeares or anie yssue of her bodye, then my will ys & soe I devise & bequeath the saied Hundred & ffytie poundes to be sett out by my executours and overseers* for the best benefitt of her & her issue & the stock not to be paied unto her soe long as she shalbe marryed & covert Baron by my executours & overseers, but my will ys that she shall have the consideracion yearelie paied unto her during her lief & after her deceas the saied stock & consideracion to bee paied to her children if she have Anie & if not to her executours or assignes she lyving the saied terms after my deceas. Provided that yf such husbond as she shall att thend of the saied three Yeares be marryed unto or attaine after doe sufficientlie Assure unto her & thissue of her bodie landes Awnswereable to the porcion by this my will gyven unto her & to be adjudged soe by my executours & overseers then my will ys that the said clli shalbe paied to such husbond as shall make such assurance to his own use.†
Item I gyve & bequeath unto my saied sister Jone xxli & all my wearing Apparrell to be paied & delivered within one yeare after my deceas, And I doe will & devise unto her the house with thappurtenaunces in Stratford wherein she dwelleth for her natural lief under the yearelie Rent of xijd.
Item I gyve and bequeath Unto her three sonns Welliam Harte [blank] Hart & Michaell Harte ffyve poundes A peece to be payed within one Yeare after my deceas. to be sett out for her within one Yeare after my deceas by my executours with thadvise & direccions of my overseers for her best proffit thereof to be paied unto her.
Item I gyve & bequeath unto her the saied Elizabeth Hall All my Plate (except my brod silver & gilt bole) that I now have att the date of this my will.
Item I gyve & bequeath unto the Poore of Stratford aforesaied tenn poundes, to mr Thomas Combe my Sword, to Thomas Russell Esquier ffyve poundes, & to ffrauncis Collins of the Borough of Warr in the countie of Warr gent thirteene poundes Sixe shillinges & Eight pence to be paied within one Yeare after my deceas.
Item I gyve & bequeath to mr Richard Tyler thelder Hamlett Sadler xxvjs viijd to buy him A Ringe, to William Raynoldes* gent xxvjs viijd to buy him A Ringe, to my godson William Walker xxs in gold, to Anthonye Nashe gent xxvjs viijd, & to Mr John Nashe xxvjs viijd in gold, & to my ffellowes John Hemynge Richard Burbage & Henry Cundell xxvjs viijd A peece to buy them Ringes.
Item I Gyve Will bequeath & Devise unto my daughter Susanna Hall for better enabling of her to performe this my will & towardes the performans thereofall that Capitall Messuage or tenemente with thappurtenaunces in Stratford aforesaied Called the newe place wherein I nowe dwell & twoe messuages or tenementes with thappurtenaunces scituat lyeing & being in Henley streete within the borough of Stratford aforesaied, And all my barnes stables Orchardes gardens landes tenementes & hereditamentes whatsoever scituat lyeing & being or to be had Receyved and perceyved or taken within the townes Hamlettes villages ffieldes & groundes of Stratford upon Avon Oldstratford Bushopton & Welcombe or in anie of them in the saied countie of Warr, And alsoe All that messuage or tenemente with thappurtenaunces wherein one John Robinson dwelleth, scituat lyeing & being in the blackfriers in London nere the Wardrobe, & all other my landes tenementes and hereditamentes whatsoever; To Have & to hold All & singuler the saied Susanna Hall for & during the terme of her naturall lief, & after her Deceas to the first sonne of her bodie lawfullie yssueing & to the heires Males of the bodie of the saied first Sonne lawfullie yssueing, & for defalt of such issue to the second Sonne of her bodie lawfullie issueing and so to the heires Males of the bodie of the saied Second Sonne lawfullie yssuieing, & for defalt of such heires to the third Sonne of the bodie of the saied Susanna Lawfullie yssueing and of the heires Males of the bodie of the saied third sonne lawfullie yssueing, And for defalt of such issue the same soe to be & remaine to the ffourth sonne ffyth sixte & Seaventh sonnes of her bodie lawfullie issueing one after. Another & to the heires Males of the bodies of the said fourth fifth Sixte & Seaventh sonnes lawfullie yssueing, in such manner as yt ys before Lymitted to be & Remaine to the first second and third Sonns of her bodie & to their heires Males;* And for defalt of such issue the said premisses to be & Remaine to my sayed Neece Hall & to the heires males of her bodie lawfullie yssueing, and for defalt of issue to my daughter Judith & the heires Males of her bodie lawfullie yssueing,† And for defalt of such issue to the Right heires of me the saied William Shackspere for ever.
Item I gyve unto my wife my second best bed with the furniture.*
Item I gyve & bequeath to my saied daughter Judith my broad silver gilt bole.
All the rest of my goodes chattels Leases plate Jewels & householde stuffe whatsoever, after my dettes and Legasies paied & my funerall expences discharged, I gyve devise & bequeath to my Sonne in Lawe John Hall gent & my daughter Susanna his wief whom I ordaine & make executours of this my Last will and testament. And I doe intreat & Appoint the saied Thomas Russell Esquier & ffrauncis Collins gent to be overseers hereof. And doe Revoke All former wills & publishe this to be my last will and testament. In witness whereof I have hereunto put my Seale hand the daie & Yeare first above Written.
By me William Shakespeare.
* WS prepared the first draft of his will in January 1616. A month later, his daughter Judith was married to Thomas Quiney, the ne’erdo-well son of one of his old schoolfellows. A month after that, his new son-in-law was charged before the Church Court at Stratford with getting another local woman pregnant, and sentenced to do public penance in a white sheet. This disgrace may have hastened Mr Shakespeare’s end. The signed will is dated 25th March 1616, the day before Quiney’s disgrace. Within a month, the poet was dead.
†All passages thus have been deleted from the first draft.
* All phrases in italics are additions.
† All this reflects WS’s anxiety about Quiriey, and his wish to protect Judith’s inheritance.
* I believe this should have read Robert Reynolds, and that the passage belongs with the one referring to Shakespeare’s other ‘fellows’ following. I bought a ring at my own expense, and wear it in his memory.
* WS was baffled in his desire to leave New Place and the bulk of his fortune to male descendants. Susanna had no son.
† Judith’s sons died young and without progeny. The first, christened Shakespeare, lived only a few months.
* Why did Mr S leave his wife only his second best bed, and that as an afterthought? I have heard it remarked that no slight or insult was intended and that while the main part of his estate was bequeathed to Susanna, he would have taken it for granted that Anne would continue to live with her daughter at New Place. While there may be something in this, I still say that to claim that it meant nothing to use the term second best bed in connection with your wife is to deny all Mr S’s power and virtue with regard to words. He knew what he meant. And he meant what he said. And the rest of his will (particularly as regards his daughters) is very carefully worded. I think he did not leave Anne Shakespeare that second best bed lightly, even if it was only thought of at the last moment. Did he leave it to her darkly then, remembering Lucy Negro? Mrs Shakespeare smiled when I asked her about the bequest, a most singular smile, but she would say nothing.
Chapter Ninety-Seven
Fire
It had been my intention to write in this chapter of how Mr Shakespeare was dogged by fire in the last years of his life. It was as if the element followed him around, sir. There was first the outbreak of fire that destroyed our Globe theatre, and was respons
ible for the destruction of many of Shakespeare’s manuscripts in the process. Then there was the great fire at Stratford in the summer of 1613, when fifty-four dwellings and numerous barns and stables stacked with hay, wood, and fodder fell a prey to the flames. I have notes on both these conflagrations in this first of my four remaining boxes.
But all such fire past has been overtaken now by another fire, a very present fire, an immediate conflagration. This broke out last night here in London, and already threatens to engulf the city.
Pompey Bum declares his prophecy has come true. He says it is the wrath of God, to kill us. He has all his whores running up stairs and down in a high state of excitement, I can tell you. He roars it is the end of the world, and the poor girls scream. I saw two of them on their knees, and not giving head. There’s no sign of Polly in the general confusion that prevails here.
The fire seems at present confined to the north side of the river. It seems to have broken out somewhere close to the Tower, some say in Pudding Lane, but others in Fish Street. The worst of it is that the wind is high, and that this wind veers about with unaccountable caprice, blowing now east, now north, so that the flames roar before it like the devouring tongue of some marauding dragon. The weather has been hot and dry for weeks now, and the very air seems ready to ignite. The old houses catch the fire and they burn like tinder-boxes. In the middle of the night, last night, I was woken by the sound of the conflagration. The sky was full of forks and spears of flame. How Shakespeare would have liked it! I was reminded as I stood there in my nightcap of the days when he peddled his squibs in Warwick market.
