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of communal Englishness. Recent commentary has in particular noticed
this communal aspect of the shoe-giving. In spite of Ralph™s alteration
and injuries, Hodge welcomes him back enthusiastically (Scene 10). ˜The
shoes commemorate the collaborative work of the guild™, write Peter
Stallybrass and Ann Rosalind Jones, but they also ˜materialise memory™ in
the personal world of Ralph and Jane.58 Every time she puts on the shoes,
she should remember him; this maintains a material as well as psycho-
logical connection between France and England, and it ensures a trans-
lation, an Englishing of international relations and the incoming alien.
Jonathan Gil Harris similarly notes that ˜Ralph ennobles the shoes as the
skilful product of collective craftsmanship™, and adds that ˜In doing so, he
invites the audience to view the shoes less as a love-token for Jane than as
a homage to the artisans™ property of fellowship and association; the
placed product in this passage is just as much the relational property of
Aliens and Englishness in Elizabethan Drama
144
skill, therefore, as the pair of shoes itself.™59 The status of being English is
con¬rmed through communal identity, and the activity of producing
Englishness requires materials of activity “ products of London and
properties of the London stage.
David Kastan writes of the reunion with the shoes: ˜The reaf¬rmation
of Ralph and Jane™s marriage redeems the alienation of working-class
lives.™60 Whether such a concept can be applied with historical accuracy
to an Elizabethan shoemaker is debatable, but Marx™s problem of the loss
of attachment of the worker is helpful for us as readers of culture: ˜The
worker is related to the product of his labour as to an alien object . . .
Whatever the product of his labour is, he is not™,61 writes Marx. This
problem is nicely defeated in Dekker™s play as Ralph and his fellows
combine to produce the pair of love-pricked shoes, ˜pinked with letters™
for Jane™s name. This product contains Ralph™s wife™s and his own
identities in a mingled combination not unlike Donne™s blood-¬lled ¬‚ea.
When Firk exclaims ˜A shoemaker sell his ¬‚esh and blood “ O indignity!™
(18.96) in response to the intrusive Hammon™s offer to ˜buy™ Jane from
Ralph, we cannot help but think again of the shoes she is wearing and
that the purchase of the person and the purchase of the shoes are inex-
tricable. The Ralph who put himself into these shoes has been changed by
the war, and the shoes are the receptacle of his earlier ˜English™ self. ˜I can
know them from a thousand moe™ (1.246), Ralph says of the shoes when
he gets home, a powerfully somatic moment that recognizes their char-
acter(s) “ presumably ˜J D™ for Jane Damport. Ralph ˜aliens™ the shoes in
the legal-economic sense of transferring them as property to another
owner, but simultaneously and paradoxically he secures their possession
for himself since they are both part of himself, and they are going to that
other part of himself, his wife (whom, in another early modern legal
sense, he owns). Thus the personal, emotional, metaphorical ˜alienation™
of the self in Marxist terms can be re-historicized and relocated as a
personal, bodily, actual familiarization (repair, completion, consoli-
dation) of the self in early modern dramatic terms. As Bolingbroke and
Mowbray found their alternative, eternal dramatic lives through their
alien excursions that defeated their talk of death, so Ralph is resurrected.
Jane is told by Hammon that Ralph is included in the list of war dead,
and on his return Ralph works his way back into himself, from and with
the alien to the native. He is a small part of the working-class structure of
London; that structure is one of many represented in the Elizabethan
drama in the act of incorporating the alien into a re-imagining and
ongoing construction of Englishness.
Being the alien in late-Elizabethan London plays 145

jack drum™s entertainment: the bedlam
sans mercy
In Englishmen for My Money, Anthony the ˜Frenchman™ does not end up
in Bridewell, in spite of Pisaro™s threats, because his plans succeed. In The
Shoemaker™ s Holiday, Dekker suppresses the potential moral and personal
dangers of ˜being the alien™ in the ¬gure of Lacy the ˜Dutchman™. These
emphases are in sharp contrast with the anti-alien imperatives of John
Marston™s Jack Drum™ s Entertainment. Mamon, the old usurer, is in love
with a young woman, Katherine. She already has a young lover, however,
called Pasquil, so Mamon attempts to have him killed, and he poisons
Katherine when she refuses to return his amorous advances. The comedy
of attempted sexual liaisons and misplaced trust runs throughout the play,
and indeed the play™s 1601 quarto subtitle and running title is A Pleasant
Comedie of Pasquill and Katherine. But the pleasantry falls away as the
play progresses. Public hatred for the usurer is shown in the burning of
Mamon™s house and all his goods. Finally, he goes mad and is given ˜Jack
Drum™s entertainment™ (OED: ˜a rough reception, turning an unwelcome
guest out of doors™), and sent to ˜Bedlam™ for a whipping.62 Meanwhile,
things get better for the good citizens as Katherine has been cured of
Mamon™s poison by a wondrous ˜Juice of hearbes™ (H4).63
The torture of whips for Mamon is not designed to make the victim
utter comprehensibly, as is the threat against Anthony, but to make him
˜sing™ only the noises that con¬rm madness, unlexical sequences of howls
that bear no relation to any of the human languages spoken outside the
walls of the ˜hospital™. This vocality con¬rms the alien victim™s status of
self as an unlinguistic madman, to be kept isolated from those with
language. Aliens (whose utterances should themselves be illegal, since they
clip the king™s English) are similarly held to be speakers of something
unknown to the proud Englishman, something base, ugly, infectious,
likely to breed, non-English, and non-human. Like madmen, suspect
aliens in this type of fearful, protective response to the threatening other
must be isolated by expulsion (sent out of the gates of London), yet also
by enclosure (sent to sing in Bridewell or Bedlam). Behind the obsession
with expulsion is the hidden acknowledgement that each member of
English society is responsible for articulating the alien element he or she
must thereafter account for, control, contain, and build a self™s identity
around. If Haughton™s ˜prison™ of London is suf¬cient for containing
and teaching a lesson to the aliens, it is not the place for corrupted
Englishmen. In this practical age, London is being reclaimed by the
Aliens and Englishness in Elizabethan Drama
146
English from Wilson™s allegories of rampant alien vice. Until they can be
proven good English citizens, the enclosure for deformed or debased
English subjects is set up as an independent space, such as Bridewell, or
outside the city walls, as is Bedlam.
As both scapegoat for the conscience of the community and ¬gure of
real physical danger, Mamon exists in the play solely to be silenced, albeit
in order to say something about that silencing™s effect on Englishness. The
play is newly working with the expulsions and escapes of non-Englishness
in the early plays; the cries of English representations such as Wilson™s
Hospitality and Conscience before their demise or abomination are
re¬gured as what is left, or what revives, after the evil part of corrupted
Englishness is expelled. Silence follows the cries of protest and pain as one
is forced into submission “ dragged offstage by Usury, bumped comically
by stage-posts or beaten viciously by whips. Marston™s Jonsonian lack of
sympathy for his character is a re¬‚ection of the times and his audience.64
Mamon is all evil: he is the assassin, the lecher, the old seducer, and the
child molester of medieval (anti-Jewish) iconography. That the myths of
Jewish child-abuse and diabolism continued right through the Renais-
sance period, and were ripe for plucking back into the propagandist
forefront at any time, is evident from the writings of the traveller William
Biddulph. Lucid and acute in his observations elsewhere, he slips into
dramatic reportage in his passage on the Turkish Jews:
They observe still all their old Ceremonies and feasts, Sacri¬ces only excepted,
which the Turkes will not suffer them to doe: for they were wont amongst them
to sacri¬ce children, but dare not now for feare of the Turkes. Yet some of them
have confessed, that their Physitians kill some Christian patient or other, whom
they have under their hands at that time, in stead of a sacri¬ce.65

As an English usurer with all the vices of the old Jew ¬rmly stuck in his
breast, Mamon enacts the in¬ltration of what Bacon in ˜Of Usury™ called
the ˜judaising™ vice into English society.66 It is again a ¬gure of
deformation that needs to be overcome while the fruits and inheritance of
apparently alien vices are incorporated (usually by a younger generation)
to ensure a future of Englishness.
This play seems to push more forcefully than any other since Wealth
and Health to eradicate the alien in the manner of the simple ¬rst alien
stage. Mamon™s servant, Flawne, has no qualms about playing his part in
the downfall of his anti-Christian, usurer master: he revels in the privilege
of listing Mamon™s bad fortunes, all working to ˜laie him up in Bedlame,
commit him to the mercie of the whip, the entertainment of bread and
Being the alien in late-Elizabethan London plays 147
water, and the sting of a Usurers Conscience for ever™ (F3v). And the
precious bonds of Mamon as the anti-Christian usurer are shredded. But
we have in fact moved on. The effective poisons used by real Jews, such as
Abraham in Selimus67 or Barabas against the convent, become in Mamon
horri¬c intent ultimately negated, countered by the Arcadian antidote of
˜A skilfull Beldame with the Juice of hearbes™ (H4). Indeed, for all Jack
Drum™s apparent resistance to the second alien stage, the process™ irony
returns: only through the incorporation of the alien, the recognition of
corrupted Englishness, can a response be necessitated that conjures up
notions of England as full of natural healing powers, an idyllic utopia of
safety and purging. In Jack Drum, the context reveals nature™s contra-
puntal matrix: nature marries cures with diseases, medicines with poisons.
The soothing dock leaf grows next to the stinging nettle, and the woman
who ¬nds the cure for Katherine is a ˜Beldame™, the recovery of a name
that has been used twice before in the play, contemptuously on both
occasions; the epithet also strongly points to someone who, thankfully,
will counter the merciless, relentless, and anagrammatical ˜Bedlam™.
In an episode reminiscent of Lincoln™s cries to the crowd in Sir Thomas
More, Flawne tells Mamon, ˜Your house with all the furniture is burnt,
not a ragge left, the people stand warming their hands at the ¬re, and
laugh at your miserie™ (F4“F4v).68 The relation of this act emphasizes the
ideological anti-Englishness of Mamon, in so far as the crowd in Sir
Thomas More was preparing to burn down the houses of the aliens in
London. For some members of the audience, at least, this scene would
have jogged the memory of a whole trend in the history of the Jews: the
¬nal repose of the Jew-like usurer, his house, must be taken, and the Jew
must be sent to some house of correction or conversion.69 In 1215, John
Stow tells us, the walls and gates of London that were wrecked by civil
war were repaired ˜with the stones taken from the Jewes broken houses,
namely, Aeldgate being then most ruinous™.70 For centuries, the homes of
the Jews had been ˜converted™ into the very structures that held them in
subjection. The homes of the Jews of Elizabethan London were their
synagogues, their holy centres, the only domains safe from Christian
oppression.71 One Thomas Wilson (not the writer on usury), a Christian
working for a Jewish family, kept a record of the clandestine Jewish
services that took place in his employer™s household. He mentions that
they moved between parishes for ease of worship, ˜because they have not
been troubled about their Relygyon or use of superstycyous ceremonyes
since they came to dwell there as they now do, where before they were
constrayned to come and heare servyce at Fanchurche when they dwelt in
Aliens and Englishness in Elizabethan Drama
148
Fanchurch streete™.72 From the real world and the tearing down of the
medieval German Judensynagogs and their replacement with Christian
churches, to the literary imagination, with Barabas™ house turned into a
Christian convent, house-taking is the ¬nal invasion of the Jew™s life, the
¬nal destruction of his world within the world.73 So, through Mamon™s
suffering of house-loss and incarceration, London and rural England
purge themselves of the infectious quality they detect in the alien. But
there is no denying the vaccinatory bene¬ts of alien confusion; from a
reformed, London-based, royalist/conservative point of view, we have
seen it make Englishness stronger throughout the plays of the Elizabethan
period. The drama encloses, incorporates, and confuses the alien into
identities of Englishness “ into spaces of urban structure, into acceptable
social and moral behaviour, and into the passing of proper justice against
malefactors and on behalf of victims.
The justice meted out in Jack Drum™ s Entertainment for folly and evil is
the unsatirical story designed to tempt patronage for the recently
re-established Paul™s Boys of 1600/1, but the hyperbole of the play™s
romance reveals the underlying viciousness of the intent to do harm, and
a very thin line is drawn between English revenge and justice. While the
failure of Mamon may be part of Marston™s and the Paul™s Boys™ aim for
ethical and political correctness, the way that the play uses stereotype and
convention to force realism to its limits is an indicator of the unlikeliness
of the play™s situation as a whole, including the successful defeat of
Mamon in England. As Philip J. Finkelpearl has noticed, Mamon™s plots
for dastardly deeds are not, in the end, all that different from those of the
suspicious lover, Brabant Junior, who is not billed directly as a villain,
and who remains at large. Mamon and Pasquil go mad at almost the same
time and this may indicate another parallel between the ˜good™ and ˜bad™
characters that is hard to ignore.74 A continuity clearly arises through
these plays once more as Englishness and alien identity become confused,
from English landlords and foreign immigrants to English and Welsh
partners like Hotspur and Glyndwr. In every play discussed in this book,
we could say there is a trace, a residue of alien threat in spite of the
constant recon¬rmation of ideas of Englishness. If Englishness has always
relied on the alien to construct and con¬rm itself, then the alien is always
present, threatening to mutate and attack the current notion of English-
ness. We have seen, however “ whether through deliberate intent or a
˜weakness™ of national character “ that Englishness adapts in response,
absorbing and building on aspects of the alien that it would have simply
rejected or not have comprehended in a previous decade.
Being the alien in late-Elizabethan London plays 149
From the equivocality of Wealth in a nation as both good and bad,
through Hospitality as a domestic or international phenomenon, to the
˜Hans™ that enables the con¬rmation of mayoral authority in London,
alien confusion lies behind, before, around, and within Elizabethan
English processes of production, exchange, mobility, and authority. The
drama represents the alien consistently, but from various angles, as
ubiquitous, as something to be feared and resisted, but in the end “
whether the plays want to admit it or not “ as something confused with
Englishness, something to live with, and something that is carried into a
new century of outgoing endeavours. The construction of identity that
comes out of Elizabethan dramatic and cultural engagement with the
alien is a phenomenon to which the later colonial English body and mind
must return to take into account its already-altered ideas and ideals of
Englishness. Without an appreciation of the ways in which drama revealed
the pervasive, invasive, and altering effects of physical and ideological alien
confusion, we cannot fully understand English manipulation of otherness
in this period or later. If we do not continue to look closely at the
alienating processes represented in sixteenth-century moral, comic, and
historical drama, we risk misreading and mistaking the rhetorical and
physical activities of the colonized and colonizing English both at home
and abroad as represented in Jacobean romance, travel, and tragic plays.
The postscript builds on this argument for critical awareness of the
confused, hybrid, English identity that is brought forward into post-
Elizabethan drama.
Postscript: Early modern and post-modern
alien excursions



Jeffrey Knapp has argued that England™s belatedness and non-involvement
in the rich colonizing that was the Iberian experience allowed the English
to recast their exclusion from the world of wealthy colonial activity as a
valorization of their ethical and religious superiority. This highlighted
England™s ˜abjuration of material or worldly means to power and its
extraordinary reliance on God™.1 This view of the ˜sceptered™ and
˜blessed™ ˜Isle™ pervades the stance of early modern English superiority in
the plays of the ¬rst alien stage, and it remains as a nostalgic remnant in
Shakespeare™s histories. But the multinational ˜English™ force of Henry V
and the late sixteenth-century popular comedy of foreign contact
reminds us that for all the representation of England as an isolated and
insular country, it was the deliberate incorporation of British foreignness
into ˜England™ and the in¬‚ux of a large community of real Continental
alien bodies to Elizabethan urban centres that lay behind the ongoing
early modern concern to de¬ne English selves. The drama, moreover,
put physical bodies on stage and in front of English men and women to
play out London and England in microcosmic and multivalent reactions
to and critiques of the conditions of that English“alien co-habitation.
While this book has attempted to provide a picture of the popular
perception of alien confusion in English drama set in England before the
permanence of extra-British colonialism, another study might compare
these ¬ndings with plays set outside England and later in time. The large
body of ˜colonial™ criticism on drama “ mostly about Marlowe and
Shakespeare, but increasingly about other playwrights, such as James
Shirley and Robert Daborne2 “ might begin to make use of the processes
of alien confusion in its consideration of English fears, failures, and
triumphs abroad. The effect of the incoming alien “ foreign persons
and in¬‚uences “ forced self-scrutiny, which in turn ignited and contin-
ued to fuel a correlating will to expansion. Emily Bartels, for one, has
argued that the lack of actual English imperial achievement before the
150
Postscript: Early modern and post-modern alien excursions 151
mid-seventeenth century has meant that ˜the importance of imperialism
to the [Elizabethan] era has, until recently, been greatly underestimated™.3
Perhaps the term ˜imperialist™ and the idea of conquest ˜across the globe™
are concepts for later rhetoric, but we can see evidence of the desire
Bartels is thinking of. Hakluyt records Robert Thorne™s suggestion to
Henry VIII, for example, that the king pursue exploration and exploit-
ation of northern climes, ultimately to attempt a circumnavigation
through regions where the Spanish and Portuguese had not yet con-
quered. The plan is extensive and ambitious, but it is clearly exploratory,
preliminary, and aware of England™s position as embarrassingly behind
in the project of expansion.4 By 1553, the journey would be attempted
by Willoughby and Chancellor. The concept of expansion with its
accompanying delights and horrors had been alive for some time when
Elizabeth settled uneasily into the throne; the desire for and the practical
dif¬culties (tragic and comic) of such exploits are discussed in the creative
literature of the period. Such a desire had a need to de¬ne a more
powerful Englishness through the second half of the sixteenth century,
and this involved getting to grips with the alien at home in preparation
for tackling the alien abroad. To ignore this burgeoning Tudor awareness
of ˜imperialism™ in studying later periods is to throw out the baby
of expansionism and alien confusion along with the (post-)colonial
bathwater.
Two useful books by Nabil Matar discuss English ˜imperialist™ ideals in
the context of early modern Anglo-Islamic relations. Matar does tend,
however, to simplify literary contributions to English culture. Thus he
writes, ˜Although there was a momentum for colonization, inspired by
the writings of Raleigh, Hakluyt, Purchas, and others, Elizabethan and
early Stuart Britons were not yet capable of ful¬lling the imperial
enterprise™,5 and this observation leads him to downplay the usefulness of
popular imaginative literary works to historical understanding, because
they do not reveal history, or, as he puts it, ˜they sacri¬ce the truth™.6 But
we can take issue with that ˜theologically™ de¬nitive notion of ˜truth™ in
literature. Is rewriting or inventing historical relations (literary lying?) a
sign of weakness? If the drama is inherently political, is this not at least in
part a call for (or will to) change? As English prisoners in the Ottoman
Empire converted to Islam (in words, but not heart) in an attempt to gain
their freedom and be brought back into the Christian fold, so drama
might be involving itself in a fantasy of re-identi¬cation of self and ˜other™
for the purpose of promoting the hope of future restitution and repair of
the English national psyche. This seems to be what is happening as the
Aliens and Englishness in Elizabethan Drama
152
English draw Britishness into themselves as an essential pre-existing part
of the Anglo-centric identity they construct to take abroad and wield
throughout the ˜British™ empire “ the empire that is Britain itself and the
world into which an early modern Britain expands itself. I would argue
that the literary material in the present book shows us the pervasiveness of
semi-historical fodder for the multi-headed beast that ¬lled the theatre.
Moreover, the very spaces in the fuzzy region between political history
and the claims of imaginative literature are what worried of¬cials like
Edmund Tilney in ˜true history™; the incongruities and allusiveness of
dramatic representations make a literary study of English trading and
(pre-)colonial ideas in the period interesting, just as the spaces between
theatres and the cities, courts, and counties they represented/imagined
provide gaps in which to play out meaning. The dramatic and popular
literature of alien relations in the Elizabethan period seems to me to be
much more aware of contemporary political realities and of its own ability
to move within and without those political-historical realities than over-
bearingly history-bound (rather than appropriately literary-historicized)
readings would allow. As I hope I have demonstrated throughout Aliens
and Englishness, the drama is also more nuanced in its representation of the
˜other™ than some critics would have us believe.
To comprehend the alien is, to a greater or lesser extent, to become the
alien. But, if the evidence of Sir Thomas More from Chapter 3 is anything
to go by, it seems that such an empathetic position is only possible in the
process of incorporating the alien ˜other™ into a dominant narrative of
native identity. In the Elizabethan drama, the English man, woman, or
community acknowledges the ˜alien within™ exclusively for the sake of
expanding and con¬rming Englishness. As critics in the twenty-¬rst
century, we have related problems of personal identity to contend with.
We profess an inability to put ourselves in the place of an early modern
subject, yet we spend our time critically thinking with just such preten-
sions, and in doing so we endanger the integrity of the subject of study.
Historians and literary scholars enter the sixteenth century as alien
archaeologists, likely to disturb (sometimes deliberately, perhaps irrep-
arably) what lies there, in the very process of taking samples for analysis.
Of course “ and with strange, discomforting reverberations of the colonial
past “ it may be just this danger of destroying what we admire or ¬nd
marvellous that makes the endeavour such an equivocally exciting and
weighty one. Steven Mullaney reminds us of the destructive need for
colonial Europe to possess examples or pieces of the alien “ a possession
ending inevitably in the oblivion of the alien bodies and the absorption of
Postscript: Early modern and post-modern alien excursions 153
elements of those ˜others™ (alia, aliens). Indeed, the very observation and
recording of alien cultural elements is a way literally to inscribe them
´
within the dominant culture.7 Rene Girard has argued that by displaying
the ˜differences™ of the alien, a community “ even with comic pretensions “
creates a tragic and violent scenario in which essential (ethnic) differences
are effaced.8 Any book on the alien, then, must in some ways confess to its
kinship with the Wunderkammer, even as it tries to organize the alien
elements it displays and argue for their appreciation and comprehension.
As I write this, I am aware of a further level of fantasy, because this very
concern for disturbing or damaging material history suggests a pre-
existing, recoverable, holistic past that we could understand if only we
lined up our critical ducks in a perfect row. We of course only invent the
material past with the rhetorics of the present and in that process create
more or less convincing illusions of historical ˜truth™.
Aliens and Englishness has been largely concerned with the work that
the dramatic text does once it leaves the author™s hands. Especially in a
historical context where playwrights for the most part sold their plays
exclusively without retaining productive control over them, the creation of
a play™s ˜real™ (in this study, English) identity comes about through a
˜pure™ authorial text bringing into itself the ˜alien™ elements of actors,
material costume and properties, and playing location. Like the centre of
Englishness, the centre of a play™s meaning comes into focus as its
assumed originary identity fuses with new, semi-predictable elements to
create a re-formed world with a new discourse. The text, formally
cohesive and coherent, is alienated from itself incrementally and con-
tinuously by cultural forces alien to it, but which underlie the context of
Englishness. The text, moreover, can be represented as available for
duplication (later editions of the same play), but the trappings put on the
form, the perception of the form by others, and new performance
contexts change its identity as historical event radically (new frontispieces,
revivals of plays alongside sequels, revivals to coincide with major events
such as the defeat of the Armada or the execution of Rodrigo Lopez).
After all we have seen, it is apparent that such alienated dramatic text “
incorporative, changing, reforming “ aligns with an Elizabethan, quint-
essentially English, mode of mutable identity-building and con¬rmation.
The stage may be England, as we read in the character list of Grim, The
Collier of Croydon, but in the end all stages are alien. Players are strange:
Robert Wilson, Will Kemp, William Shakespeare, and Richard Tarlton
convert themselves with apparel, and thereby convert the stage “ itself
deliberately alienated, in the suburbs or liberties, set apart from London
Aliens and Englishness in Elizabethan Drama
154
or town authorities. Characters are more strange: ¬gures like Illwill,
Newfangle, and Fraud in the moralities, Anthony in Englishmen, Roland
Lacy and Hal in the comedies and histories alienate themselves from
themselves to take on disguises and meta-roles. The deliberate nature of
these events lets us know that dramatists and probably playgoers were not
so naive as to think that they had no hand in the process of ˜Anglicizing™
their cities and counties and in the creation of ideas of Englishness.
Wherever dramatic imaginative literature ¬ts into the jigsaw of historical
˜truth™, its premises of action and interaction assure us that we cannot do
without its pieces; to ˜interact™ in the ˜real™ world, after all, is to create
drama between persons with performance and dialogue. To engage
socially upon the stage that is England is to act (and create history) at all
times.
The alien is the alien because it is always out of reach; but that makes it
akin to evasive notions of native identity. Native and foreign language, as
used on the stage and in the streets, are themselves equally alienating
forces: languages control entry of ˜foreigners™ and determine hierarchies
within their native ranks. The plays do the same jobs of national gate-
keeping and organization. Could staging the alien really alienate the stage,
then, as I suggested in Chapter 1? For if the stage was already strange and
offensively non-English to English reformers and city authorities, did
putting the alien on the stage instead con¬rm its status as a very English
mechanism for displaying the ˜other™ and for discovering and delineating
the self? We leap across time to look through these dramatic perspectives,
ourselves the alien among aliens. We search for selves that we can com-
prehend in the early modern and post-modern worlds. If we are afraid
that in our reading of history through drama we just unravel the threads
of a baseless fabric, we also understand that the ideas produced in that
destructive critical process are as substantial as any ¬‚esh and blood.
Notes




PREFACE
1 I am using the translation of the dedicatory letter provided in Jobst Ammon
[i.e. Jost Amman], The Theatre of Women, ed. Alfred Aspland (1586; Man-
chester and London: Holbein Society, 1872). Professors Heather James and
Tina Bowman provided me with translations of the Latin text accompanying
the image of the married woman of London.

1 I NT R O D U C TI O N “ A L I E N S A N D T H E E N G L I S H
I N L O ND O N
1 Lien Bich Luu, Immigrants and the Industries of London 1500“1700 (Aldershot:
Ashgate, 2005), pp. 3“4. ˜Tentative estimates put the immigration to England
at 30,000 people in the six years between 1567 and 1573 alone “ the period of
repression associated with the reign of the Duke of Alva™. Luu estimates the
total number of aliens coming to Elizabethan England at about 50,000; they
did not all stay, however, and it would seem that the coming-and-going alone
of this number of immigrants would give a strong impression among the
English of a massive in¬‚ux of strangers (p. 90).
2 Andrew Pettegree, Foreign Protestant Communities in Sixteenth-Century London
(Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1986), pp. 24“5, Chap. 2, and passim.
3 For a discussion of the arguments between the livery companies, the city, and
the Privy Council over alien and denizen rights, see Ian Archer, The Pursuit of
Stability: Social Relations in Elizabethan London (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1991), pp. 131“40.
4 The figure is from Luu, Immigrants and the Industries of London, p. 90; Luu
discusses the distribution of aliens in London, pp. 121“6. The phrase ˜alien
invasion™ is taken from the title to Chap. 7 of Richard Vliet Lindabury,
Patriotism in Elizabethan Drama (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1931).
5 Luu, Immigrants and the Industries of London, pp. 98“9. Alien ¬gures in most
recent studies of early modern England use Irene Scouloudi™s Returns of
Strangers in the Metropolis 1593, 1627, 1635, 1639: a Study of an Active Minority
(London: Huguenot Society of Great Britain and Ireland, 1985).
6 See Luu, Immigrants and the Industries of London, pp. 37“8.
7 Ian Archer, The Pursuit of Stability, p. 23.

155
Notes to pages 2“8
156
8 For this notion of citizenship in history and Shakespearean representation, see
the Introduction in John Michael Archer, Citizen Shakespeare: Freemen and
Aliens in the Language of the Plays (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005).
9 Robert Wilson, An Edition of Robert Wilson™ s ˜ The Three Ladies of London™ and
˜ Three Lords and Three Ladies of London™ , ed. H. S. D. Mithal (New York and
London: Garland, 1988), p. 48, line 27 (sig. B).
10 John Archer, Citizen Shakespeare, p. 17.
11 The distinction between ˜denizens™, with conflicted rights to escape alien
customs duties on imported and traded goods, and ˜free denizens™ is not
entirely clear, and may not have been consistent in the period. Lien Luu makes
a strong distinction between the ˜free™ denizens and those who remained ˜alien™
in so far as they did not gain freedom of the city and accompanying resident
privileges. (See Lien Luu, ˜Natural-Born versus Stranger-Born Subjects: Aliens
and Their Status in Elizabethan London™, in Immigrants in Tudor and Early
Stuart England, eds. Nigel Goose and Lien Luu (Brighton: Sussex Academic
Press, 2005), pp. 57“75, p. 62). Compare Irene Scouloudi™s de¬nition of a ˜free
denizen™ as one who ˜held the freedom of the City and possibly as well, but not
automatically, a Patent of Denization granted by the crown™ (Scouloudi,
Returns of Strangers, p. 9). This note and my understanding of these alien
identities has been informed by the work of Jacob Selwood. I am very grateful
to Professor Selwood for his helpful correspondence on this issue, including
drafts from his forthcoming book on diversity in early modern London
(Ashgate, 2009).
12 For discussions of the uncertain status of non-native-born English children and
immigrants, and the methods of application for denizenship and citizenship,
see Luu, ˜Natural-Born versus Stranger-Born Subjects™, and Jacob Selwood,
˜ “English-Born Reputed Strangers”: Birth and Descent in Seventeenth-
Century London™, Journal of British Studies 44 (2005): 728“53.
13 Luu, Immigrants and the Industries of London, pp. 142“6.
14 John Florio, First Fruits (London, 1578), N2v.
15 Florio, First Fruits, N2.
16 Michael Neill, ˜Broken English and Broken Irish: Nation, Language, and the
Optic of Power in Shakespeare™s Histories™, Shakespeare Quarterly 45 (1994):
1“32, pp. 3, 14; Andrew Had¬eld and Willy Maley, Introduction in
Representing Ireland: Literature and the Origins of Con¬‚ict, 1534“1660, eds.
Brendan Bradshaw, Andrew Had¬eld, and Willy Maley (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1993), p. 7; Janette Dillon, Language and Stage
in Medieval and Renaissance England (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1998), pp. 162“3; Eric Grif¬n, ˜From Ethos to Ethnos: Hispanizing “the
Spaniard” in the Old World and the New™, The New Centennial Review 2.1
(2002): 69“116, p. 71.
17 Richard Helgerson, ˜Before National Literary History™, Modern Language
Quarterly 64 (2003): 169“79, p. 171.
18 Helgerson, ˜Before National Literary History™, p. 173.
19 Jodi Mikalachki, The Legacy of Boadicea: Gender and Nation in Early Modern
England (London: Routledge, 1998), p. 4.
Notes to pages 10“15 157
20 In July 1596, the Privy Council ordered the deportation of all black servants
and slaves as payment to the transporter, Casper van Selden, for bringing
home English prisoners. (See Great Britain, Acts of the Privy Council
of England, 1452“1628, 32 vols., ed. John Roche Dasent (London: HMSO,
1890“1907), 26, p. 20). A Proclamation of January(?) 1601 again gave van
Selden a warrant for transporting all ˜Negroes and blackamoors™; the job had
been dif¬cult in the earlier case because the order had required the permis-
sion of the masters, which van Selden complained he could not get. See Great
Britain, Tudor Royal Proclamations, 3 vols., eds. Paul L. Hughes and James
F. Larkin (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, (vol. 1) 1964 and
(vols. 2 and 3) 1969), 3, pp. 221“2.
21 Thomas Platter, Thomas Platter™ s Travels in England, trans. and intro. Clare
Williams (1599; London: Jonathan Cape, 1937), p. 170.
22 Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities: Re¬‚ections on the Origin and
Spread of Nationalism, rev. edn (London and New York: Verso, 1991), p. 7.
23 Philip Edwards, Threshold of a Nation: a Study of English and Irish Drama
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1979), p. 68.
24 See also Cathy Shrank™s adjustment of Anderson™s assessment of ˜national™
awareness in Writing the Nation in Reformation England 1530“1580 (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 2004), pp. 3“7.
25 Emily Bartels uses the term ˜self-scrutiny™ as a reminder of the need for
English inward contemplation, and I have made use of it in the present study.
See Emily C. Bartels, Spectacles of Strangeness: Imperialism, Alienation, and
Marlowe (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1993). Oseas
implores London to look ˜with inward eyes™ (4.5.70) to learn the lessons of the
play (see Thomas Lodge and Robert Greene, A Looking Glass for London and
England, in Drama of the English Renaissance i: the Tudor Period, eds. Russell
A. Fraser and Norman C. Rabkin (New York: Macmillan, 1976)).
26 See Louis Montrose, ˜Form and Pressure: Shakespearean Drama and the
Elizabethan State™, in Contextualizing the Renaissance Returns to History, ed.
Albert H. Tricomi (Turnhout, Belgium: Brepols, 1999), pp. 171“99.
27 Richard Helgerson, Forms of Nationhood: the Elizabethan Writing of England
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992), p. 245.
28 Jean Howard, ˜Other Englands: the View from the Non-Shakespearean
History Play™, in Other Voices, Other Views: Expanding the Canon in English
Renaissance Studies, eds. Helen Ostovich, Graham Silcox, and Graham
Roebuck (London: Associated University Presses, 1999), pp. 135“53; Aaron
Landau, ˜“I Live with Bread like You”: Forms of Inclusion in Richard II ™,
Early Modern Literary Studies 11.1 (2005): 3.1“23. Online, available at: http://
purl.oclc.org/emls/11“1/richard.htm (accessed 14 April 2006).
29 Steven Mullaney, The Place of the Stage: License, Play, and Power in Renais-
sance England (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1988).
30 This notion of the ˜performative™ as an imagined ˜soul™ or centre written on
the body for others to read and believe in is drawn from Judith Butler™s
theory of sexuality in Gender Trouble: Feminism and Subversion of Identity
(London: Routledge, 1990).
Notes to pages 15“27
158
31 Mary Floyd-Wilson, English Ethnicity and Race in Early Modern Drama
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), pp. 59, 60.
32 Floyd-Wilson™s argument returns on occasion to the pattern of an essentia-
lized Englishness defined in opposition to the alien. This equation is in danger
of perpetuating an ideology of strong, superior Englishness that somehow
pre-exists and trumps all other identities. Her discussion of ˜nature™ versus
forgetting ˜nature™ and the African as the Briton™s ˜inverse™ relies on con¬‚ict in
contrast to Aliens and Englishness™ emphasis on the sixteenth-century devel-
opment of confusion as con¬‚uence. See Floyd-Wilson, English Ethnicity and
Race in Early Modern Drama, p. 7.
33 Floyd-Wilson, English Ethnicity and Race in Early Modern Drama, p. 60.
34 John Lyly, Euphues: the Anatomy of Wit (1578 and 1580), eds. Morris William
Croll and Harry Clemons (New York: Russell and Russell, 1964), p. 421.
Cited in Sara Warneke, Images of the Educational Traveller in Early Modern
England (Leiden: Brill, 1995), p. 88.
35 See J. G. A. Pocock™s revised version of ˜British History: a Plea for a New
Subject™, The Journal of Modern History 47 (1975): 601“21, p. 610; David
Baker, Between Nations: Shakespeare, Spenser, Marvell, and the Question of
Britain (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1997), p. 12.
36 Willy Maley, Nation, State, and Empire in English Renaissance Literature:
Shakespeare to Milton (London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003), p. 19.


2 DI SC O V E R I N G T H E AL I E N I N E L I Z A B E T H A N
M OR A L D R A MA
1 Andrew Pettegree, Foreign Protestant Communities in Sixteenth-Century Lon-
don (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1986), pp. 113“16. The issue of the cost of
denization is arguable, since the process was worked out on a case-by-case and
petitioning basis, and fees for residency relative to applicants™ incomes do not
seem to have been consistent.
2 Robin D. Gwynn, Huguenot Heritage: the History and Contribution of the
Huguenots in Britain (London: Routledge, 1985), p. 15.
3 Jonathan Gil Harris, Foreign Bodies and the Body Politic: Discourses of Social
Pathology in Early Modern England (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
1998).
4 Laurence Saunders, A Trewe Mirrour or Glasse Wherin we Maye Beholde the
Wofull State of Thys Our Realme of Englande (London, 1556), A8v.
5 Saunders, A Trewe Mirrour, B2.
6 Saunders, A Trewe Mirrour, B2v.
7 Anon., Lamentacion of England (Germany[?], 1557 and 1558), A3.
8 Lamentacion of England, A3v.
9 Lamentacion of England, A7. In 1557 Philip had his thirtieth birthday, whereas
Mary turned forty-one.
10 Lamentacion of England, A6“A6v.
11 Lamentacion of England, A8.
Notes to pages 28“34 159
12 Eric Griffin, ˜From Ethos to Ethnos: Hispanizing “the Spaniard” in the Old
World and the New™, The New Centennial Review 2.1 (2002): 69“116, p. 76.
13 Griffin, ˜From Ethos to Ethnos™, pp. 81“2, 86.
14 Granting monopolies to alien artisans would set up new manufacturing in
England, thus decreasing imports of luxury goods. ˜In the early years of
Elizabeth™s reign such projects almost invariably involved foreign projectors™,
writes Pettegree. William Cecil had a hand in promoting a number of such
ventures involving monopolies by aliens in England, including soap manu-
facture and saltpetre provision (a raw material for dying) (Pettegree, Foreign
Protestant Communities, pp. 140“1).
15 Great Britain, Tudor Royal Proclamations, 3 vols., eds. Paul L. Hughes and
James F. Larkin (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, (vol. 1) 1964
and (vols. 2 and 3) 1969), 1, p. 134.
16 Pettegree, Foreign Protestant Communities, pp. 273“6.
17 Great Britain, Tudor Royal Proclamations, 1, p. 146.
18 Patrick Collinson, ˜Europe in Britain: Protestant Strangers and the English
Reformation™, in From Strangers to Citizens: the Integration of Immigrant
Communities in Britain, Ireland, and Colonial America, 1550“1750, eds. Ran-
dolph Vigne and Charles Littleton (London: Huguenot Society of Great
Britain and Ireland, 2001), pp. 57“67, p. 60.
¨
19 Frederick, Duke of Wirtemberg [i.e. Wurttemberg], A True and Faithful
Narrative. Quoted in W. B. Rye, ed., England as Seen by Foreigners (1865;
New York: B. Bloom, 1967).
20 This event is related by Pettegree, Foreign Protestant Communities, pp. 273“4.
21 Collinson, ˜Europe in Britain™, p. 60.
22 See T. W. Craik, ˜The Political Interpretation of Two Tudor Interludes:
Temperance and Humility and Wealth and Health™, Review of English Studies
n.s. 4 (1953): 98“108; A. J. Hoenselaars, Images of Englishmen and Foreigners in
the Drama of Shakespeare and His Contemporaries: a Study of Stage Characters
and National Identity in English Renaissance Drama, 1558“1642 (London and
Toronto: Associated University Presses, 1992), p. 41.
23 M. Beer, Early British Economics from the XIIIth to the Middle of the XVIIIth
Century (New York: Kelley, 1967), pp. 60“1.
24 Diana Wood, Medieval Economic Thought (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2002), pp. 69“70; Beer, Early British Economics, p. 63.
25 Thomas Hobbes, Leviathan 1651. Renascence Editions. Online, available
at: http://darkwing.uoregon.edu/rbear/hobbes/leviathan2.html (accessed 23
January 2007).
26 See Beer, Early British Economics, pp. 94“8.
27 T. W. Craik, ˜The Political Interpretation™, p. 102; see also Paula Neuss,
˜The Sixteenth-Century English “Proverb” Play™, Comparative Drama 18
(1984): 1“18, p. 14.
28 Anon., The Bayte and Snare of Fortune, A2. STC gives 1556 and 1550 as likely
publication dates.
29 See Sara Warneke, Images of the Educational Traveller in Early Modern
England (Leiden: Brill, 1995), Chap. 3.
Notes to pages 34“44
160
30 Craik, ˜The Political Interpretation™, p. 102 n. 3.
31 See for example William Cecil, Lord Burghley, The Copie of a Letter Sent Out
of England to Don Bernadin Mendoza Ambassadour in France for the King of
Spaine (London, 1588); Anon., A Comparison of the English and Spanish
Nation, trans. from French by Robert Ashley (London, 1589); Anon., Coppie
of the Anti-Spaniard, trans. from French (a French Gentleman, a Catholic)
(London, 1590); Anon., A Pageant of Spanish Humours, trans. from Dutch by
H. W. (London, 1599).
32 Harris, Foreign Bodies and the Body Politic, p. 15.
33 Harris, Foreign Bodies and the Body Politic, p. 33.
34 Harris, Foreign Bodies and the Body Politic, pp. 40“5.
35 Michel Serres, The Parasite, trans. Lawrence Schehr (Baltimore: The Johns
Hopkins University Press, 1982).
36 A. J. Hoenselaars, Images of Englishmen and Foreigners, p. 41.
37 Laura Hunt Yungblut, ˜Strangers and Aliaunts: the “Un-English” among the
English in Elizabethan England™, in Crossing Boundaries: Issues of Cultural and
Individual Identity in the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, ed. Sally McKee
(Turnhout, Belgium: Brepols, 1999), pp. 263“76, p. 274.
38 Elizabeth Hanson, Discovering the Subject in Renaissance England (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1998), p. 26.
39 E. K. Chambers suggests that ˜This might be The Collier played at Court in
1576™, and notes Fleay™s assignation of it to the Paul™s Boys (The Elizabethan
Stage, 4 vols. (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1923), 3, p. 317). In the Introduction
to the Malone Society edition of the text, we read, ˜the phrase “in the
shroudes” (l[ine] 248) may be a hint that Like Will to Like was in fact
originally designed (and perhaps produced) as a boys™ play at St. Paul™s™. A
note then continues, ˜(OED ˜shroud™ sb. I.4). It is possible that the playhouse
of the Paul™s Boys was in the cloister from around 1570™ (Ulpian Fulwell,
Like Will to Like Quod the Devil to the Collier, in Two Moral Interludes, ed.
´
Peter Happe (1568; Oxford: Malone Society, 1991), p. 56). The existing texts
seem primarily aimed at small, professional troupes, and the stage directions
allow for the company™s lack of resources: ˜Nichol Newfangle must have a
Gittorn or some other instrument (if it may be) but if hee have not they
must daunce about the place all three, and sing this song that followeth . . .™
(A4v).
40 David Bevington, From Mankind to Marlowe: Growth of Structure in the
Popular Drama of Tudor England (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University
Press, 1962), p. 157.
41 Hoenselaars, Images of Englishmen and Foreigners, p. 42.
42 Bevington, From Mankind to Marlowe, p. 158.
43 See C. L. Kingsford™s notes in his edition of John Stow, A Survey of London, 2
vols. (1599 and 1603; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1908), 2, pp. 287, 367“8, and
Andrew Pettegree, Foreign Protestant Communities, p. 17.
44 Philip Stubbes, The Anatomie of Abuses (1595 edn), ed. Margaret Jane Kidnie
(Tempe: ACMRS, 2002), pp. 64“5.
Notes to pages 46“56 161
45 Hoenselaars, Images of Englishmen and Foreigners, p. 43.
46 Charlotte McBride, ˜A Natural Drink for an English Man: National
Stereotyping in Early Modern Culture™, in A Pleasing Sinne: Drink and
Conviviality in Seventeenth-Century England, ed. Adam Smyth (Woodbridge:
D. S. Brewer, 2004), pp. 181“91, pp. 182, 186.
47 David Bevington, Tudor Drama and Politics (Cambridge, MA: Harvard
University Press, 1968), pp. 134“5.
48 Wapull™s play may well be a work from earlier in Elizabeth™s reign. While
I describe elements of the play as ˜echoing™ or ˜expanding™ those that we saw
in Like Will to Like, then, I mean to continue the notion of a matrix-like
relationship between the plays rather than a strict chronological development.
49 Hurtful Help is also given the name ˜Hurting Help™ at his entrance at A3v.
50 Jean-Christophe Agnew, Worlds Apart: the Market and the Theater in Anglo-
American Thought, 1550“1750 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1986),
Chaps. 1 and 3.
51 Like the usurer and the broker (a professional type discussed below), the
covetous landlord had become a stock character for which the morally upright
critic could voice disdain, and as a result, the tenant became a common
character too; thus Bernard Beckerman can refer to him as a ˜generic Tenant™;
see Beckerman, ˜Playing the Crowd: Structure and Soliloquy in Tide Tarrieth
No Man™, in Mirror up to Shakespeare, ed. J. C. Gray (Toronto: University of
Toronto Press, 1984), pp. 128“37, p. 134.
52 Neuss, ˜The Sixteenth-Century English “Proverb” Play™, p. 6. William
Wager™s Enough is as Good as a Feast includes a depressed tenant, the idea
taken perhaps from personal experience. As Mark Eccles has discovered,
Wager (being a parson) attended the dying Lancelot Fothergill of the
Blackfriars and heard his grievances. Apparently Fothergill ˜was not able to
prefer his poor boy to the lease of his house, he was tied so hard not to alien
the lease for twenty-one years that had been made to him by Francis Pitcher™,
Fothergill™s ˜leasemonger™ (as Satan gleefully calls the corrupted worldly men
in Enough is as Good as a Feast). (Mark Eccles, ˜William Wager and His
Plays™, English Language Notes 18 (1981): 258“62, pp. 259“60.) This reverses
Paula Neuss™ argument, as the concrete experience produces the dramatic
satire. Of course, this does not go against Neuss, but strengthens the likeli-
hood of maturing mimetic moments in the theatre having an increasingly
realistic effect on the audiences.
53 For a discussion of brokers as usurers, see the Introduction to Three Renais-
sance Usury Plays, ed. Lloyd Edward Kermode (Revels Plays Companion
Library) (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2008), pp. 1“78.
´
54 Peter Happe, ˜The Devil in the Interludes™, Medieval English Theatre 11
(1989): 42“55, p. 46.
55 William R. Dynes, ˜“London, Look On!”: the Estates Morality Play and the
Moralities of Economy™, paper for GEMCS conference, Pittsburgh, 1996.
Online, available at: http://english.uindy.edu/dynes/estatesmorality.htm (ac-
cessed 23 February 2006).
Notes to pages 58“62
162
56 Jonathan Gil Harris, Sick Economies: Drama, Mercantilism, and Disease in
Shakespeare™ s England (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2004),
Chap. 4. My thanks are due to Professor Harris for his personal corres-
pondence on this and other related issues.


3 A C C O M M O D A T I N G T H E A L I E N IN M I D - E L I Z A B E T H A N
L O N DO N P LA Y S
1 References to The Three Ladies of London are from Three Renaissance Usury
Plays, ed. Lloyd Edward Kermode (Revels Plays Companion Library)
(Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2008).
2 Thomas Platter, Thomas Platter™ s Travels in England, trans. and intro. Clare
Williams (1599; London: Jonathan Cape, 1937), p. 153.
3 Nigel Goose, ˜Immigrants in Tudor and Early Stuart England™, in Immigrants
in Tudor and Early Stuart England, eds. Nigel Goose and Lien Luu (Brighton:
Sussex Academic Press, 2005), pp. 1“38, p. 16; see also D. M. Palliser, who
calculates that ˜By 1547 there were perhaps 5 to 6,000 foreigners in London,
amounting to between 5 and 8 per cent of the population; and by 1553 their
numbers had risen to perhaps 10,000 or some 10 per cent™ (The Age of
Elizabeth: England under the Later Tudors 1547“1603, 2nd edn (London and
New York: Longman, 1992), p. 66); Laura Hunt Yungblut ¬nds that later,
˜Despite the increased ¬‚ow of immigrants into England, particularly in the
1560s and 1570s, the aliens on average rarely represented more than about 4“5
per cent of the total population living in areas in and around the City™ (Strangers
Settled Here amongst Us: Policies, Perceptions and the Presence of Aliens in
Elizabethan England (London and New York: Routledge, 1996), p. 29).
4 On Italians in early modern England, see Michael Wyatt, The Italian
Encounter with Tudor England: a Cultural Politics of Translation (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2005), pp. 138, 144, 148. Wyatt notes that this
community ˜maintained a sense of their native cultural identity abroad™ by
closing off a street to create a type of piazza, but ˜at no time during the
Elizabethan period did the Italian community in London exceed more than
several hundred persons, and of them only a very small number were engaged
at any given time in professions associated with the promotion of Italian
culture™; Alan Haynes provides a detailed summary of positions held by
Italians in Elizabethan London “ see his ˜Italian Immigrants in England,
1550“1603™, History Today 27.8 (1977): 526“34.
5 See Lien Bich Luu, Immigrants and the Industries of London 1500“1700
(Aldershot: Ashgate, 2005), p. 90.
6 A. L. Beier, ˜Social Problems in Elizabethan London™, Journal of Interdiscip-
linary History 9 (1978): 203“21, p. 208.
7 Luu, Immigrants and the Industries of London, pp. 150, 156“60.
8 Letter reprinted in Malone Society Collections i .1, ed. W. W. Greg (Oxford:
Oxford University Press, 1907/1908), pp. 48“9. The reference to ˜unclenly™
foreigners is from a separate point in the same letter.
Notes to pages 62“64 163
9 Great Britain, Tudor Royal Proclamations, 3 vols., eds. Paul L. Hughes and
James F. Larkin (New Haven and London: Yale University Press, (vol. 1) 1964
and (vols. 2 and 3) 1969), 2, p. 466. According to the Proclamation, inhab-
itants of London with fewer than seven years™ residency were to leave the city.
Palliser questions the ef¬cacy of such an order and, indeed, it could not have
been easy removing residents who had established themselves in the capital
city several years earlier. Neither was the population increase to be curbed,
and Conrad Russell estimates a population approaching half a million by the
end of the seventeenth century. See Palliser, The Age of Elizabeth, p. 250;
Conrad Russell, The Crisis of Parliaments: English History, 1509“1660 (1971;
Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 1988), p. 172.
10 35 Eliz. I c. 6. A large proportion of this population came from migration
within Britain. Roger Lockyer records the vast in¬‚ux to the city from the
provinces, going as far as to say, ˜The increase in the city™s population was
caused entirely by immigration, for among the residents deaths outnumbered
births, and even to maintain a stable level an in¬‚ow of 7,000 settlers was
needed every year™ (The Early Stuarts: a Political History of England, 1603“1642
(London and New York: Longman, 1989), p. 7).
11 John Stow, A Survey of London, 2 vols., ed. C. L. Kingsford (1599 and 1603;
Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1908), 1, p. 208.
12 Laura Hunt Yungblut, ˜“Mayntayninge the indigente and nedie”: the
Institutionalization of Social Responsibility in the Case of the Resident Alien
Communities in Elizabethan Norwich and Colchester™, in From Strangers to
Citizens: the Integration of Immigrant Communities in Britain, Ireland, and
Colonial America, 1550“1750, eds. Randolph Vigne and Charles Littleton
(London: Huguenot Society of Great Britain and Ireland, 2001), pp. 99“105,
101“3.
13 For the favourable view of English relations with aliens see Steve Rappaport,
Worlds within Worlds: Structures of Life in Sixteenth-Century London
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989). Rappaport makes an
important, if sanguine, analysis on the insigni¬cance of strangers in causing
London™s problems in the 1590s: ˜In 1593 there were 5450 aliens in London
and its environs, mostly French and Dutch, only 2.5 per cent more than in
1573. That area™s total population, however, increased more than ten times as
much between those years, from about 152,000 to 186,000 people, and thus
the alien community actually became relatively smaller by the 1590s when
strangers amounted to less than 3 per cent of all people living in London.
However persuasive their claims, then, it is likely that the “great hurt of
English citizens” which Londoners blamed on aliens was caused instead by
economic problems, especially in the city™s cloth-related crafts and trade,
which began in the early 1560s and for which Dutch, French, and other aliens
were not responsible™ (p. 58). He continues, ˜Indeed the fact that the two
communities coexisted within the walls throughout the Tudors™ reign must be
counted among London™s most important accomplishments. The deaths of
thousands of Protestants and Catholics, royalists and radicals on the continent
Notes to pages 64“68
164
are bloody reminders that in the early modern period brutal repression,
expulsion, and even slaughter were at times the means adopted for dealing
with religious, political, and other minorities. However grudging their
acceptance of foreigners and strangers in their midst, Londoners chose a
different course™ (p. 60). Rappaport is setting his argument against the
˜instability™ argument of Peter Clark and Paul Slack in English Towns in
Transition 1500“1700 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1976). Rappaport™s
study itself has been questioned for its optimism by Ian Archer, in The Pursuit
of Stability: Social Relations in Elizabethan London (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1991).
14 See Joseph P. Ward, ˜Fictitious Shoemakers, Agitated Weavers and the Limits
of Popular Xenophobia in Elizabethan London™, in From Strangers to Citizens,
eds. Vigne and Littleton, pp. 80“7; Nigel Goose, ˜“Xenophobia” in Eliza-
bethan and Early Stuart England: an Epithet Too Far?™, in Immigrants in
Tudor and Early Stuart England, eds. Goose and Luu, pp. 110“35.
15 For a discussion of the geohumoral determination of English identity, see
Mary Floyd-Wilson, English Ethnicity and Race in Early Modern Drama
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003).
16 Emanuel van Meteren, Antwerp merchant, from his A True Discourse
Historicall, of the Succeeding Governours in the Netherlands (Dutch, 1599; trans.
London, 1602). He travelled in England in 1575, qtd in W. B. Rye, ed.,
England as Seen by Foreigners (1865; New York: B. Bloom, 1967), p. 70.
17 Levinus Lemnius, Dutch physician, ˜Notes on England™ (1560), in The
Touchstone of Complexions (London, 1581), qtd in Rye, ed., England as Seen by
Foreigners, p. 78.
¨
18 Frederick, Duke of Wirtemberg [i.e. Wurttemberg], A True and Faithful
Narrative, qtd in Rye, ed., England as Seen by Foreigners, p. 7.
19 Luu, Immigrants and the Industries of London, p. 41.
20 Daryl Palmer, Hospitable Performances: Dramatic Genre and Cultural Practices
in Early Modern England (West Lafayette: Purdue University Press, 1992),
p. 32.
21 Felicity Heal, Hospitality in Early Modern England (Oxford: Oxford
University Press, 1990), pp. 322“4.
22 Note the use of ˜honest™ and ˜poor™ to describe the destitute English living in
the seedy parts of town and following Hospitality at the funeral. It seems that
the practice of an honest living cannot be detached from a life of poverty in
this vision of corrupted society.
23 See Jonathan Gil Harris, ˜(Po)X Marks the Spot: How to “Read” “Early Modern”
“Syphilis” in The Three Ladies of London™, in Sins of the Flesh: Responding to
Sexual Disease in Early Modern Europe, ed. Kevin Siena (Toronto: Center for
Reformation and Renaissance Studies, 2005), pp. 111“34, esp. pp. 123“30.
24 Heal, Hospitality in Early Modern England, pp. 300“1.
25 In a liminal category is the public feasting of dignitaries, nobles, and royalty by
town corporations “ public in profile but private in practice, because hosted in
large private dwellings or, more often, civic halls with controlled admission.
Notes to pages 68“71 165
26 Caleb Dalechamp, Christian Hospitality (London, 1632), D2, p. 11.
27 Dalechamp, Christian Hospitality, F“Fv, pp. 25“6.
28 This problem is illustrated in the ˜Epistle to the Reader™ in I. M., A Health to
the Gentlemanly Profession of Servingmen (London, 1598), qtd in Rye, ed.,
England as Seen by Foreigners, pp. 196“7 n. 27.
29 Yungblut, Strangers Settled Here amongst Us, pp. 56“7.
30 Jeffrey Knapp, ˜Elizabethan Tobacco™, in New World Encounters, ed. Stephen
Greenblatt (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of California Press, 1993),
pp. 273“312, pp. 273“4.
31 Daniel Vitkus, Turning Turk: English Theater and the Multicultural Medi-
terranean, 1570“1630 (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003), esp. Chaps. 1 and
6; for extensive discussions on Anglo-Turkish relations and cultural repre-
sentations, see Nabil Matar, Turks, Moors, and Englishmen in the Age
of Discovery (New York: Columbia University Press, 1999), and Islam in
Britain 1558“1685 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998); Jonathan
Burton, ˜Anglo-Ottoman Relations and the Image of the Turk in
Tamburlaine™, Journal of Medieval and Early Modern Studies 30 (2000):
125“56, esp. pp. 125“38; on the relation of this history to the play, see Daryl
Palmer, ˜Merchants and Miscegenation: The Three Ladies of London, The Jew
of Malta, and The Merchant of Venice™, in Race, Ethnicity, and Power in the
Renaissance, ed. Joyce Green MacDonald (London: Associated University
Presses, 1997), pp. 36“66; Alan Stewart, ˜“Come from Turkie”: Mediterranean
Trade in Late Elizabethan London™, in Re-Mapping the Mediterranean in Early
Modern English Writings, ed. Goran V. Stanivukovic (London: Palgrave
Macmillan, 2007), pp. 157“77.
32 For an overview of the Anglo-Mediterranean trade in the context of the
fraught development of London overseas trade through the early modern
period, see Robert Brenner, Merchants and Revolution: Commercial Change,
Political Con¬‚ict, and London Overseas Traders, 1550“1653 (Princeton:
Princeton University Press, 1993). For a revisionary review of Brenner™s
thesis, see David Harris Sacks, ˜The Metropolis and the Revolution:
Commercial, Urban, and Political Culture in Early Modern London™, in
The Culture of Capital: Property, Cities, and Knowledge in Early Modern
England, ed. Henry S. Turner (New York and London: Routledge, 2002),
pp. 139“62.
33 References to The Three Lords and Three Ladies of London are from Robert
Wilson, An Edition of Robert Wilson™ s ˜ The Three Ladies of London™ and
˜ Three Lords and Three Ladies of London™ , ed. H. S. D. Mithal (New York and
London: Garland, 1988). I give Mithal™s line numbers followed by Q sig.
34 These references are taken from Sara Warneke, Images of the Educational
Traveller in Early Modern England (Leiden: Brill, 1995), pp. 74, 79“82.
35 Philip Stubbes, The Anatomie of Abuses (1595 edn), ed. Margaret Jane Kidnie
(Tempe: ACMRS, 2002), p. 70. The ongoing importance of these concerns in
London seems con¬rmed by the healthy publishing record of The Anatomie of
Abuses: two editions in 1583, a third in 1585, and another in 1595.
Notes to pages 71“76
166
36 John Deacon, Tobacco Tortured (1616; Facsimile. New York: Da Capo Press,
1968). Cited in Sara Warneke, ˜A Taste for Newfangledness: the Destructive
Potential of Novelty in Early Modern England™, Sixteenth Century Journal 26
(1995): 881“96, pp. 894“5.
37 Floyd-Wilson, English Ethnicity and Race; Warneke, Images of the Educational
Traveller.
38 Arthur Freeman, ˜Marlowe, Kyd, and the Dutch Church Libel™, English
Literary Renaissance 3 (1973): 44“52.
39 John Roche Dasent, ed., Acts of the Privy Council of England, n.s. xxiv (1592“3)
(London: HMSO, 1901), p. 222.
40 These sources are listed by Alan Dessen, Shakespeare and the Late Moral Plays
(Lincoln, NE: University of Nebraska Press, 1986), p. 7 and p. 170 n. 11.
41 See Freeman, ˜Marlowe, Kyd, and the Dutch Church Libel™, p. 50. John
Michael Archer relates these lines to The Merchant of Venice. See Citizen
Shakespeare: Freemen and Aliens in the Language of the Plays (New York:
Palgrave Macmillan, 2005), pp. 44“5.
42 The Machiavellian merchant of course also recalls Marlowe™s Barabas: he is
introduced by Machiavel, who asks the audience not to judge Barabas poorly
just ˜because he favours me™.
43 Louis B. Wright, ˜Social Aspects of Some Belated Moralities™, Anglia 54
(1930): 107“48, p. 129 n. The latter point is made by Teresa Nugent, ˜Usury
and Counterfeiting in Wilson™s The Three Ladies of London and The Three
Lords and Three Ladies of London, and in Shakespeare™s Measure for Measure™,
in Money and the Age of Shakespeare, ed. Linda Woodbridge (New York:
Palgrave Macmillan, 2003), pp. 201“17, pp. 203“4, 207.
44 Nugent, ˜Usury and Counterfeiting™, pp. 203“4, 207“8, 213.
45 Angela Stock, ˜“Something done in honour of the city”: Ritual, Theatre and
Satire in Jacobean Civic Pageantry™, in Plotting Early Modern London: New
Essays on Jacobean City Comedy, eds. Dieter Mehl, Angela Stock, and Anne-
Julia Zwierlein (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2004), pp. 125“44, esp. pp. 132“4.
46 Revised by Chettle, Dekker, Heywood, and Shakespeare. See Anthony
Munday et al., Sir Thomas More, eds. Vittorio Gabrieli and Giorgio
Melchiori (Revels) (Manchester and New York: Manchester University Press,
1990), pp. 12“17, 21“7. Line references are from this edition.
47 Complaint from the Lord Mayor and Aldermen to the Privy Council, 13
September 1595. Reprinted in E. K. Chambers, The Elizabethan Stage, 4 vols.
(Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1923), 4, p. 318.
48 By 28 July 1597, theatres were such health and order problems that the Privy
Council ordered ˜the Curtayne and the Theatre nere to Shorditch . . . or anie
other common playhouse™ to be closed for performances and ˜plucke[d]
downe™. It was added that the ˜Justices of Surrey . . . take the like order for the
playhouses in the Banckside, in Southwarke or elswhere in the said county
within iii miles of London™ (see Great Britain, Acts of the Privy Council of
England, 1452“1628, 32 vols., ed. John Roche Dasent (London: HMSO, 1890“
1907) (1597), p. 314). The plucking down order does not seem to have taken
Notes to pages 76“77 167
force, although plays were ordered to stop for the summer of 1597. On 15
August 1597, ˜very seditious and sclanderous matter™ in a play on Bankside
(the mysterious Isle of Dogs) led to the imprisonment of some of the players
and writers. See Great Britain, Acts of the Privy Council (1597), p. 338.
49 Great Britain, Acts of the Privy Council (1591“2), pp. 506“8.
50 See Scott McMillin, The Elizabethan Theatre and ˜ The Book of Sir Thomas
More™ (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1987), p. 67, and Richard
Dutton, Mastering the Revels: the Regulation and Censorship of English
Renaissance Drama (London: Macmillan, 1991), p. 83.
51 Barbara Freedman also encourages careful reading of Elizabethan uses of the
words ˜theatre™, ˜houses™, and ˜apprentices™, all being words “ like ˜riot™ “ with
multiple referents (see ˜Elizabethan Protest, Plague, and Plays: Rereading the
“Documents of Control”™, English Literary Renaissance 26 (1996): 17“45).
52 John Rastell, An Exposition of Certaine Dif¬cult and Obscure Words, and
Termes of the Lawes of This Realme (London, 1592), Y4.
53 Letter from Sir William Webbe, Lord Mayor, to Lord Burghley, 12 June 1592:
˜Beeing informed of a great disorder & tumult lyke to grow yesternight abowt
viij of the clock within the Borough of Southwark, I went thither with all
speed I could, taking with mee on of the Sherifes, whear I found great
multitudes of people assembled togither, & the principall actours to bee
certain servants of the ffeltmakers gathered togither out of Barnsey street &
the Black fryers, with a great number of lose & maisterles men apt for such
pourposes. Whearupon having made proclamation, & dismissed the multi-
tude, I apprehended the chief doers and authors of the disorder, & have
committed them to prison to bee farther punished, as they shall bee found to
deserve. And having this morning sent for the Deputie & Constable of the
Borough with Divers other of best credit, who wear thear present, to examine
the cause & manner of the disorder, I found that it began vpon the serving of
a warrant from my L. Chamberlain by on of the Knight Mareschalls men
vpon a feltmakers servant, who was committed to the Mareschallsea with
certein others, that were accused to his L. by the sayed Knight Mareschalls
men without cause of offence, as them selves doe af¬rm. For rescuing of
whome the sayed companies assembled themselves by occasion & pretence of
their meeting at a play, which bysides the breach of the Sabboth day giveth
opportunitie of committing these & such lyke disorders. The principall doers
in this rude tumult I mean to punish to the example of others™ (reprinted in
Chambers, The Elizabethan Stage, 4, p. 310).
54 My reading of the relatively low level of ˜riot™ could, however, be influenced
by deliberate Elizabethan government policy. Harsh punishment for misde-
meanour offences seems to have been part of a strategy in the period for
preventing escalation of minor disorders. A Proclamation of 1598, for
instance, asserted that ˜divers routs™ have escalated to ˜robberies and murders™
and ordered a round-up of idle persons. A week after the Essex rebellion of
1601, another Proclamation imposes martial law over those who have not
necessarily offended in any signi¬cant way but that sort ˜being of likelihood
Notes to pages 77“79
168
ready to lay hold of any occasion to enter into any tumult and disorder,
thereby to seek rapine and pillage™ (Great Britain, Tudor Royal Proclamations,
3, pp. 196“7, 232). The former document also mentions that the petty dis-
orderlies became violent when confronted with of¬cers of the law; assertions
of power and rebellious responses can spiral upward, requiring more of¬cers
who in turn provoke louder calls by the citizens against oppression. Freedman
also notes a good reason to side with McMillin™s and Dutton™s reading of the
level of violence: ˜One good reason to minimize social disorder in of¬cial
reports was economic. When disorder was reported adequately, the Privy
Council automatically appointed provost-marshals, with the result that
communities such as Southwark were highly taxed for disciplinary services.
Another good reason to minimize disorder was to avoid court interference in
city affairs. Elizabeth™s preference for martial law and exemplary punishment
was well known. So, too, were its incendiary effects™ (Freedman, ˜Elizabethan
Protest™, p. 24).
55 McMillin, The Elizabethan Theatre, p. 72.
56 On 16 April the Privy Council sent a letter to the Lord Mayor of London:
˜Whereas there was a lewde and vyle ticket or placarde set up upon some post
in London purportinge some determynacion and intencion the apprentyces
should have to attempt some vyolence on the strangers, and your Lordship as
we understande hath by your carefull endevour apprehended one that is to be
suspected and thought likelie to have written the same. Because oftentymes it
doth fall out of soche lewde beginninges that further mischeife doth ensue yf
in tyme it be not wyselie prevented . . . wee thincke it convenient that he
shalbe punyshed by torture used in like cases and so compelled to reveale the
same. Wee truste you are so carefull in the government of the citty as yf some
lewde persons had soche wicked purpose to attempt any thinge againste
strangers that by your carefull foresighte the same shalbe prevented™ (Great
Britain, Acts of the Privy Council (1592“3), p. 187). This ¬nal sentence might
imply the existence of a break between the attitude of the central Council and
the of¬cers for the parishes and wards. Some of the local of¬cials may have
been turning blind eyes to acts with which they could sympathize, even if not
publicly approve.
57 Great Britain, Acts of the Privy Council (1592“3), pp. 200“1.
58 Thomas Platter wrote in the final year of the century that the Dutch and
French immigrants ˜have been very kindly received™ (Thomas Platter™ s Travels
in England, p. 156). We can question whether he was thinking of the
behaviour of the aliens™ peers or the protection afforded them by the gov-
ernment against native hostility.
59 Great Britain, Acts of the Privy Council (1592“3), p. 187.
60 Great Britain, Acts of the Privy Council (1592“3), p. 222.
61 Reprinted in Chambers, The Elizabethan Stage, 4, p. 293.
62 In his reprint edition of the play for the Malone Society, W. W. Greg keeps
the Clown™s speech in an appendix (Anthony Munday et al., The Book of Sir
Thomas More, ed. W. W. Greg (Malone Society) (Oxford: Oxford University
Notes to pages 79“86 169
Press, 1911), Addition i i (B, C) (Fol. 7a, b)); see Greg™s explanation of the
revision on p. 69. Gabrieli and Melchiori favour the text of the addition as
intended to replace the original scene. However, this addition was probably
made in 1603, and not during the 1592“3 attempts to get the play through the
Master of the Revels, Edmund Tilney. (See Munday et al., Sir Thomas More,
p. 19, and pp. 37“40, detailing correspondences between Gabrieli™s and
Greg™s edition with the Harley MS 7368; also McMillin, The Elizabethan
Theatre, p. 153ff.)
Jean E. Howard and Phyllis Rackin, Engendering a Nation: a Feminist Account
63
of Shakespeare™ s English Histories (New York: Routledge, 1997), pp. 198“200.
Dutton, Mastering the Revels, pp. 82“3.
64
The relevant crime would be ˜rout™, the stage before ˜riot™. John Rastell writes,
65
˜Rout, is when people do assemble them selves together & after do proceed or
ride, or go forth, or do move by the instigation of one or more . . . that is a
rout & against the law although they have not done or put in execution their
mischevous entent. See the statute 1. Mar. c. 12™ (Rastell, An Exposition of
Certaine Dif¬cult and Obscure Words, Y4“Y4v).
For a fuller discussion of the sensibilities of Tilney, see Dutton, Mastering the
66
Revels, Chap. 3.
Munday et al., Sir Thomas More, p. 30; Tracey Hill, ˜“The Cittie is in an
67
uproare”: Staging London in The Booke of Sir Thomas More™, Early Modern
Literary Studies 11.1 (2005): 2.1“19. Online, available at: http://purl.oclc.org/
emls/11“1/more.htm (accessed 7 April 2006), Para. 5.
Hill, ˜“The Cittie is in an uproare”™, para. 10.
68
Ian Munro, The Figure of the Crowd in Early Modern London: the City and Its
69
Double (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005), pp. 20“4.
Hill, ˜“The Cittie is in an uproare”™, para. 16 (Hill™s argument for the change
70
in character of the rebel leaders runs through paras. 12“19). Hill refers to the
Second Addition as it is set off in W. W. Greg™s Malone Society edition of
the play; in the Gabrieli and Melchiori edition, this addition is in the main
body of the text of Act 2 (see n. 62 above for further details).
Joan Fitzpatrick, ˜Food and Foreignness in Sir Thomas More™, Early Theatre 7
71
(2004): 33“47, esp. pp. 33“40. I examine a couple of the same passages as
Fitzpatrick, and the reader is encouraged to read her essay for comparison.
See Fitzpatrick, ˜Food and Foreignness™ for further discussion of the rela-
72
tionship between food, sex, and masculinity.
Munday et al., Sir Thomas More, p. 85.
73

4 IN CORP ORATING T HE A L IE N IN S HA KE S PE A R E ™S
SECOND TETRALOGY
1 Anon., A Comparison of the English and Spanish Nation, trans. from French by
Robert Ashley (London, 1589), B3, p. 5.
2 Jane Kingsley-Smith, Shakespeare™ s Drama of Exile (London: Palgrave
Macmillan, 2003), p. 29.
Notes to pages 87“91
170
3 See William Shakespeare, The Second Part of King Henry IV (Updated edn),
ed. Giorgio Melchiori (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007),
pp. 55“61.
4 I am alluding to the argument by Scott McMillin and Sally-Beth MacLean
that the Queen™s Men were largely put together as a provincial mouthpiece
for the Elizabethan regime (The Queen™ s Men and Their Plays, 1583“1603
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998)), and to Paula Blank™s
concern with the various competing English dialects and ˜British™ languages
in the early modern period (Broken English: Dialects and the Politics of
Language in Renaissance Writings (London and New York: Routledge, 1996)).
5 John Morrill, ˜The British Problem, c. 1534“1707™, in The British Problem, c.
1534“1707: State Formation in the Atlantic Archipelago, eds. Brendan
Bradshaw and John Morrill (New York: St Martin™s Press, 1996), pp. 1“38,
p. 17.
6 David Read, ˜Losing the Map: Topographical Understanding in the
“Henriad”™, Modern Philology 94 (1997): 475“95, p. 488.
7 Aaron Landau, ˜“I Live with Bread Like You”: Forms of Inclusion in Richard
II ™, Early Modern Literary Studies 11.1 (2005): 3.1“23. Online, available at:
http://purl.oclc.org/emls/11-1/richard.htm (accessed 14 April 2006), Paras.
4“6.
8 Lisa Hopkins, Shakespeare on the Edge: Border-Crossing in the Tragedies and
the Henriad (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2005), p. 18.
9 Bernhard Klein, Maps and the Writing of Space in Early Modern England and
Ireland (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2001), p. 3.
10 John Michael Archer, Citizen Shakespeare: Freemen and Aliens in the Language
of the Plays (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005), p. 97; Kingsley-Smith,
Shakespeare™ s Drama of Exile, p. 62.
11 Kingsley-Smith, Shakespeare™ s Drama of Exile, p. 62.
12 The Chorus uses ˜imaginary™ twice in his first speech; ˜imagined™ and six other
orders to ˜see™ things in the ˜mind™ in his third; in his fourth speech, he
has two calls to ˜mind™ things as they are meant rather than as they are; and
the fifth asks the audience once to ˜imagine™ and three times to use their
˜thought(s)™.
13 I was prompted to think along these lines by Peter Womack™s ˜Imagining
Communities: Theatres and the English Nation in the Sixteenth Century™, in
Culture and History 1350“1600: Essays on English Communities, Identities, and
Writing, ed. David Aers (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1992),
pp. 91“145, pp. 92“3.
14 I am defending my argument here from a possible objection that could arise
from Jonathan Gil Harris and Natasha Korda™s Introduction to Staged
Properties in Early Modern English Drama (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2002), in which they correct the long-standing critical bias for a ˜bare
stage™ over property-¬lled production. On p. 9, they highlight the Chorus™
˜wooden O™ speech as the archetypal nexus for such non-material fetishism.
15 Kingsley-Smith, Shakespeare™ s Drama of Exile, p. 59.
Notes to pages 92“99 171
16 Kingsley-Smith notes that Foxe represents Protestant exile in this way
(Shakespeare™ s Drama of Exile, p. 17).
17 Kingsley-Smith, Shakespeare™ s Drama of Exile, p. 15.
18 Christopher Highley, Shakespeare, Spenser, and the Crisis in Ireland
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1997), p. 86“7.
19 Highley, Shakespeare, Spenser, and the Crisis in Ireland, p. 87.
20 Christopher Highley, ˜Wales, Ireland, and 1 Henry IV ™, Renaissance Drama
n.s. 21 (1990): 91“114, pp. 95, 96“7.
21 Highley, Shakespeare, Spenser, and the Crisis in Ireland, pp. 6“7, 9, 67, 70, 76, 87.
22 Highley, Shakespeare, Spenser, and the Crisis in Ireland, pp. 93“4, 95, 97.
23 Philip Jenkins, ˜The Plight of Pygmy Nations: Wales in Early Modern
Europe™, North American Journal of Welsh Studies 2 (2002): 1“11, p. 1.
24 Terence Hawkes, ˜Bryn Glas™, in Post-Colonial Shakespeares, eds. Ania
Loomba and Martin Orkin (London and New York: Routledge, 1998),
pp. 117“40, pp. 136“7.
25 Mark Netzloff, England™ s Internal Colonies: Class, Capital, and the Literature
of Early Modern English Colonialism (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003),
p. 7; see also Michael Hechter, Internal Colonialism: the Celtic Fringe in
British National Development, 1536“1966 (1975; New Brunswick, NJ: Trans-
action Publishers, 1999).
26 Michael Neill, ˜Broken English and Broken Irish: Nation, Language, and the
Optic of Power in Shakespeare™s Histories™, Shakespeare Quarterly 45 (1994):
1“32, p. 16.
27 Neill, ˜Broken English and Broken Irish™, pp. 4“5.
28 Willy Maley, Nation, State, and Empire in English Renaissance Literature:
Shakespeare to Milton (London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2003) p. 26.
29 Philip Schwyzer, Literature, Nationalism, and Memory in Early Modern
England and Wales (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), p. 6.
30 William Shakespeare, The First Quarto of King Henry V, ed. Andrew Gurr
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), pp. 10, 22.
31 Maley, Nation, State, and Empire, p. 21.
¨
32 The use of the trope ˜mother earth™ is contemporary, Sebastian Munster™s
Cosmographia (1574) employing it (see Klein, Maps and the Writing of Space,
p. 38).
33 Old spelling text cited in Atsuhiko Hirota, ˜The Romanticization of a British
Past: Early Modern English Nationalism and the Literary Representations of
Wales™ (Ph.D. Diss., Claremont Graduate University, 2001), p. 166. (Lines
2817“20, my modernization.)
34 See Blank, Broken English, Chap. 5: ˜Language, Laws, and Blood: the King™s
English and His Empire™.
35 Jacqueline Vanhoutte, Strange Communion: Motherland and Masculinity in
Tudor Plays, Pamphlets, and Politics (Newark: University of Delaware Press,
2003), p. 165.
36 See John Gillies, Shakespeare and the Geography of Difference (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1994), pp. 70“98; John Gillies and Virginia
Notes to pages 101“106
172
Mason Vaughan, eds., Playing the Globe: Genre and Geography in English
Renaissance Drama (Madison: Farleigh Dickinson University Press, 1998).
37 For Tamburlaine™s place in the recognition of a shift in the concepts and uses
of map-making, see Klein, Maps and the Writing of Space, pp. 15“20.
38 David Armitage, The Ideological Origins of the British Empire (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 2000), pp. 7“8.
39 Matthew Greenfield, ˜1 Henry IV: Metatheatrical Britain™, in British Identities
and English Renaissance Literature, eds. David J. Baker and Willy Maley
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), pp. 71“80, p. 72.
40 Andrew Hadfield and Willy Maley, Introduction in Representing Ireland:
Literature and the Origins of Con¬‚ict, 1534“1660, eds. Brendan Bradshaw,
Andrew Had¬eld, and Willy Maley (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1993), p. 11 (citing the Introduction in S. G. Ellis, Tudor Ireland:
Crown, Community and the Con¬‚ict of Cultures, 1470“1603 (London: Long-
man, 1985)).
41 Janette Dillon, Language and Stage in Medieval and Renaissance England
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), p. 178.
42 Claire McEachern, The Poetics of English Nationhood 1590“1612 (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1996), p. 108.
43 Schwyzer, Literature, Nationalism, and Memory, p. 37.
44 Greenfield, ˜1 Henry IV ™, p. 75.
45 Highley, Shakespeare, Spenser, and the Crisis in Ireland, p. 96
46 Bruce Avery, ˜Gelded Continents and Plenteous Rivers: Cartography as
Rhetoric in Shakespeare™, in Playing the Globe, eds. Gillies and Vaughan,
pp. 46“62, p. 57.
47 Glanmor Williams, ˜Religion and Welsh Literature in the Age of the
Reformation™, Proceedings of the British Academy 69 (1983): 371“408, p. 403;
see also Williams, ˜Prophecy, Poetry, and Politics in Medieval and Tudor
Wales™, in British Government and Administration, eds. H. Hearder and
H. R. Loyn (Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 1974), pp. 104“16.
48 Hawkes, ˜Bryn Glas™, p. 119. In his essay, named after the place of battle and
mutilation of the English in Holinshed, Terence Hawkes uses the idea of
interactive juxtaposed texts in Derrida™s ˜Glas™ as the epitome of the cross-
border relationship of ˜Great Britain™ (pp. 117“18). Read from one side to the
other, the ˜texts™ of Wales and England vary, interdepend, cast backward and
forward, and re-signify.
49 Hawkes, ˜Bryn Glas™, p. 135.
50 Patricia Parker, ˜Uncertain Unions: Welsh Leeks in Henry V ™, in British
Identities and English Renaissance Literature, eds. Baker and Maley, pp. 81“
100; Lisa Hopkins, ˜Fluellen™s Name™, Shakespeare Studies 24 (1996): 148“55.
51 After all, Henry Tudor had come with French forces from his exile, and in the
mid 1590s, there were strong rumours about the imminent arrival of Spanish
support for the Irish resistance. For more on Milford Haven as a ˜stand in for
all of Wales™, see Garrett A. Sullivan, The Drama of Landscape: Land, Property,
and Social Relations on the Early Modern Stage (Stanford: Stanford University
Notes to pages 106“111 173
Press, 1998), p. 139; see his Chap. 4, ˜Civilizing Wales™, p. 136 and passim for
the balancing of Milford Haven as port of celebration and fear.
52 Hopkins, Shakespeare on the Edge, pp. 13“33.
53 Hopkins, Shakespeare on the Edge, p. 26.
54 Hopkins points out a similar ever-present but very suppressed threat in the
second tetralogy: the relentless danger of women™s roles through their
equivocal lineage and language, sexuality and violence (˜Fluellen™s Name™,
pp. 150“4).
55 This point about the map in 1 Henry IV is made by Avery, ˜Gelded
Continents and Plenteous Rivers™, p. 58. For further discussion of the com-
pleteness and ˜semiotic residue™ of maps in Henry IV and King Lear, see also
John Gillies, ˜The Scene of Cartography in King Lear™, in Literature,
Mapping, and the Politics of Space in Early Modern Britain, eds. Andrew
Gordon and Bernhard Klein (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
2001), pp. 109“37.
56 Ronald Boling briefly reads this term backward through the lens of
Cymbeline, where Cloten is an ˜irregulous devil™ (4.2.317), reminding us of the
related fear of the ˜irregular™ ˜damned™ ˜devil™ Glyndwr (1.3.82 & 2.5.337); see
˜Anglo-Welsh Relations in Cymbeline™, Shakespeare Quarterly 51 (2000):
33“66, p. 50.
57 See Howard™s footnote to 1 Henry IV 1.1.40 in The Norton Shakespeare, eds.
Stephen Greenblatt et al. (New York and London: W. W. Norton, 1997),
p. 1158.
58 See Paul Brown, ˜This Thing of Darkness I Acknowledge Mine: The Tempest
and the Discourse of Colonialism™, in Political Shakespeare: Essays in Cultural
Materialism, eds. Jonathan Dollimore and Alan Sin¬eld (Ithaca, NY: Cornell
University Press, 1985), p. 54 for a discussion and contextualization of the
˜wild™ man performed for Elizabeth in 1575. See G. M. Pinciss, ˜The Savage
Man in Spenser, Shakespeare, and Renaissance Drama™, The Elizabethan
Theatre 8 (1982): 69“89, for an extended examination of wild man plays. For
the Irish and American wild ˜savage™ connection, see Ronald Takaki, ˜The
Tempest in the Wilderness: the Racialization of Savagery™, Journal of American
History 79 (1992): 892“912. For a reassessment of the English view via non-
dramatic literature of the savagery and uses of Ireland and the Irish, see
Andrew Had¬eld, Edmund Spenser™ s Irish Experience: Wilde Fruit and Salvage
Soyl (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1997), and Willy Maley, Salvaging Spenser:
Colonialism, Culture and Identity (New York: St Martin™s Press, 1997).
59 Morrill, ˜The British Problem™, p. 7.
60 Archer, Citizen Shakespeare, p. 108.
61 Williams, ˜Religion and Welsh Literature™, p. 401. Blank cites George Owen™s
characterization of Pembrokeshire in 1603 as ˜a kind of cultural oasis, another
English island encircled by a (Welsh) “sea” ™ (Blank, Broken English, p. 131).
62 The quotation is from Blank, Broken English, p. 128.
63 Megan Lloyd, ˜ Speak it in Welsh™ : Wales and the Welsh Language in
Shakespeare (Lanham, MD: Rowman and Little¬eld, 2007), p. 1.
Notes to pages 111“113
174
64 Steven Mullaney, ˜Strange Things, Gross Terms, Curious Customs: the
Rehearsal of Cultures in the Late Renaissance™, in Representing the Renais-
sance, ed. Stephen Greenblatt (Berkeley and Los Angeles: University of
California Press, 1988), pp. 65“92, p. 81.
65 Hawkes, ˜Bryn Glas™, p. 127; David Steinsaltz, ˜The Politics of French
Language in Shakespeare™s History Plays™, Studies in English Literature
1500“1900 42 (2002): 317“34, p. 331.
66 Peter Roberts, ˜Tudor Legislation and the Political Status of “the British
Tongue”™, in The Welsh Language before the Industrial Revolution, ed. Geraint
H. Jenkins (Cardiff: University of Wales Press, 1997), p. 136; see also Blank,
Broken English, p. 133.
67 William P. Griffith notes the influence of English language and values in
Wales ˜long before the Acts of Union™. There are men of standing in both
north and south Wales in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries who had courtly
and English upbringings and educations, although the matter should not be
exaggerated (˜Humanist Learning, Education and the Welsh Language™, in The
Welsh Language before the Industrial Revolution, ed. Jenkins, pp. 289“315,
pp. 289“90).
68 Roberts, ˜Tudor Legislation™, p. 123; Williams, ˜Religion and Welsh Litera-
ture™, pp. 392“3. ˜Of¬cial permission to produce the Scriptures in the ver-
nacular was extended to the native Irish as well in the 1560s, following what
appears to have been a general decision of policy to encourage the spread of
Protestantism™, and signi¬cant money was spent on casting new type for the
project before a drop-off in ¬nancial support (Roberts, ˜Tudor Legislation™,
p. 146); see also Peter Roberts, ˜Tudor Wales, National Identity and the
British Inheritance™, in British Consciousness and Identity: the Making of
Britain, 1533“1707, eds. Brendan Bradshaw and Peter Roberts (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1998), pp. 8“42.
69 Roberts, ˜Tudor Legislation™, p. 148.
70 Williams, ˜Religion and Welsh Literature™, pp. 383“4.
71 Williams, ˜Religion and Welsh Literature™, p. 400.
72 There is the intriguing hypothesis that Falstaff originally survived through an
earlier draft of Henry V and that after he is killed off, his potential role was
taken over and shared by the other semi-Welsh characters, Captain Gower
and Williams (Joan Rees, ˜Shakespeare™s Welshmen™, in Literature and
Nationalism, eds. Vincent Newey and Ann Thompson (Liverpool: Liverpool
University Press, 1991), pp. 22“40, pp. 31“2). The folio stage direction that
begins 3.6 reads: ˜Enter Captains, English and Welsh, Gower and Fluellen™
(First Folio 434). The Norton Shakespeare deletes the phrase ˜English and
Welsh™, but the point is being made that Gower, in spite of his Welsh-
sounding name, is English. This is not done, however, for the soldier
Williams. That Falstaff is Captain of a ragged band (1 HIV 4.2) and that one
Captain without accent and one English soldier should be given such Welsh
names seems to lend some support to the substitution hypothesis.
73 Hirota, ˜The Romanticization of a British Past™, p. 167.
Notes to pages 113“120 175
74 See David Baker™s similar reading of this passage in Between Nations:
Shakespeare, Spenser, Marvell, and the Question of Britain (Stanford: Stanford
University Press, 1997), pp. 57“8.
75 Baker observes that the name MacMorris is taken from an Old English family
(Between Nations, p. 36). A foundational reading of this scene is Graham
Holderness, ˜“What Ish My Nation?”: Shakespeare and National Identities™,
Textual Practice 5 (1991): 74“93.
76 Archer, Citizen Shakespeare, p. 117.
77 McEachern, The Poetics of English Nationhood, pp. 109“10.
78 Read, ˜Losing the Map™, p. 485.
79 Schwyzer, Literature, Nationalism, and Memory, p. 126.
80 Willy Maley, ˜Postcolonial Shakespeare: British Identity Formation and
Cymbeline™, in Shakespeare™ s Late Plays: New Readings, eds. J. Richards and
J. Knowles (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 1999), pp. 145“57, p. 146.
81 Maley, ˜Postcolonial Shakespeare™, p. 149.
82 Maley, ˜Postcolonial Shakespeare™, p. 150.
83 Avraham Oz, ˜Extending Within: Placing Self and Nation in the Epic of
Cymbeline™, Journal of Theatre and Drama 4 (1998): 81“97, p. 83.
84 Claire McEachern, The Poetics of English Nationhood 1590“1612 (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1996), p. 30.
85 Jodi Mikalachki, The Legacy of Boadicea: Gender and Nation in Early Modern
England (London: Routledge, 1998), pp. 110“11.
86 See the Introduction to Stephen Greenblatt, Renaissance Self-Fashioning: from
More to Shakespeare (Chicago: Chicago University Press, 1980), pp. 1“9.
87 Moreover, with Jodi Mikalachki™s reading in mind, we have to remain aware
that this play, with its combination of charm and harsh nationalism,
articulates its rejections and incorporations of identity around a strongly
masculinized sense of Roman and British heritage. See Mikalachki, The
Legacy of Boadicea, pp. 96“114.
88 Sullivan cites Humfrey Lluyd™s The Breviary of Britaine (1573). See Sullivan,
The Drama of Landscape, p. 146.
89 Huw Griffiths, ˜The Geographies of Shakespeare™s Cymbeline™, English
Literary Renaissance 34 (2004): 339“58, pp. 352“3.


5 B E I N G T H E AL I E N I N L A T E - E L I Z A B E T H A N
LO NDON P LA YS
1 Jean Howard, ˜Women, Foreigners, and the Regulation of Urban Space in
Westward Ho™, in Material London, ca. 1600, ed. Lena Cowen Orlin (Phila-
delphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2000), pp. 150“67, pp. 152“3.
2 Laura Caroline Stevenson, Praise and Paradox: Merchants and Craftsmen in Eli-
zabethan Popular Literature (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1984), p. 30.
3 Peter McCluskey, ˜“Shall I betray my brother?”: Anti-Alien Satire and Its
Subversion in The Shoemaker™ s Holiday™, Tennessee Philological Bulletin 37
(2000): 43“54, pp. 44“5.
Notes to pages 120“123
176
4 Andrew Fleck, ˜Marking Difference and National Identity in Dekker™s The
Shoemaker™ s Holiday™, Studies in English Literature 1500“1900 46 (2006): 349“70,
pp. 358“9.
5 Quoted in Louis B. Wright, Middle-Class Culture in Elizabethan England
(Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1955), p. 36. Wright quotes
from Thomas Johnson™s Cornucopiae, or Divers Secrets (1596), F2“F2v.
6 For a discussion of Anglo-Jewish contact and relations in this decade,
see Theodore K. Rabb, ˜The Stirrings of the 1590s and the Return of the Jews
to England™, Transactions of the Jewish Historical Society of England 26
(1974“8): 26“33.
7 We have records of sixteenth-century Jewish activity in Seething Lane (Sydon
Lane), Crutched Friars, Hart Street, Fenchurch, and Duke™s Place. For the
return of Jews to England in the late-fifteenth to mid-sixteenth centuries see
Lucien Wolf™s ground-breaking ˜Jews in Elizabethan England™, Transactions of
the Jewish Historical Society of England 11 (1924“7), 1“91; C. J. Sisson, ˜A
Colony of Jews in Shakespeare™s London™, Essays and Studies 23 (1938): 38“52;
Albert M. Hyamson, The Sephardim of England: History of the Spanish and
Portuguese Jewish Community, 1492“1951 (New York: AMS Press, 1951); Cecil
Roth, A History of the Jews in England, 3rd edn (Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1964); Roger Prior, ˜A Second Jewish Community in Tudor London™,
Transactions of the Jewish Historical Society of England 31 (1989“90): 137“52;
James Shapiro, Shakespeare and the Jews (New York: Columbia University
Press, 1996), pp. 68“76 and passim; David S. Katz, The Jews in the History of
England, 1485“1850 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1995).
8 Samuel Purchas, Hakluytus Posthumus, or Purchas His Pilgrimes, 20 vols. (1625;
Glasgow: James MacLehose & Sons, 1905), 10, p. 427. At Coryate™s time of
writing (1613) Amis was sixty years old, and he left London when he was
thirty; so he was in London from 1553 to 1583.
9 All references to Englishmen for My Money are from Three Renaissance Usury
Plays, ed. Lloyd Edward Kermode (Revels Plays Companion Library)
(Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2008).
10 For a very useful study of the features of the stage usurer, see Celeste Turner
Wright, ˜Some Conventions regarding the Usurer in Elizabethan Literature™,
Studies in Philology 31 (1934): 176“97. This work highlights the contemporary
confusions in identifying a ¬gure of the ˜other™ in racial and religious terms,
while pointing to prejudicial behavioural and physical features. For social
issues and the appearance of Jews in Europe see Alfred Rubens, A History of
Jewish Costume (1967; London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1973), and Rubens,
A Jewish Iconography (London: The Jewish Museum, 1954).
11 Pisaro™s oath may suggest conversion to Catholicism, which would do him
little good in Elizabethan England; Marina™s rejection of nunhood pushes in
the other direction. These seem like dramatic commonplaces, however, like
Aaron calling Lucius ˜popish™ in Titus Andronicus (5.1.76).
12 For an extended overview of this non-dramatic context, see the Introduction
to Three Renaissance Usury Plays, ed. Kermode, pp. 1“78, pp. 1“28.
Notes to pages 123“127 177
The better-known extant usury tracts include Thomas Wilson, A Discourse
upon Usury, ed. R. H. Tawney (London, 1572); Phillip Caesar, A General
Discourse against the Damnable Sect of Usurers (London, 1578); Henry Smith,
An Examination of Usurie (London, 1591); the anonymous The Death of Usury,
or the Disgrace of Usurers (Cambridge, 1594); and Miles Mosse, The Arraign-
ment and Conviction of Usury (London, 1595). It is not unreasonable to assume a
sizeable readership for the books printed in London. Mosse makes the point
that printing in London (rather than at one of the universities) makes the work
available to the general “ and usurious “ public.
13 For the play entry, see Philip Henslowe, Henslowe™ s Diary, eds. R. A. Foakes
and R. T. Rickert (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1961), p. 89.
14 The quotation is from Theodore B. Leinwand, The City Staged: Jacobean
Comedy, 1603“1613 (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1986), p. 53.
Stevenson, drawing on Lawrence Stone™s The Crisis of the Aristocracy,
1558“1641 (1965; Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1979), reminds us of this climate of
credit (Stevenson, Praise and Paradox, p. 94).
15 Shapiro, Shakespeare and the Jews, p. 186.
16 For one assessment of the problems of the decade, see M. J. Power, ˜London
and the Control of the “Crisis” of the 1590s™, History 70 (1985): 371“85.
17 A. J. Hoenselaars, Images of Englishmen and Foreigners in the Drama of
Shakespeare and His Contemporaries: a Study of Stage Characters and National
Identity in English Renaissance Drama, 1558“1642 (London and Toronto:
Associated University Presses, 1992), p. 57.
18 Henslowe, Henslowe™ s Diary, pp. 87, 89.
19 For a good study of the place of language in (anti-)alien drama, see Chap. 7 of

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