about the city, or in any public place, during this time of summer." This was a serious blow to the Chamberlain's Men, who were compelled to leave the city during the most profitable months of the year when Falstaff was crowding their house with large audiences, and to go on a tour of the country. But the Privy Council did not stop with this. It ordered that all playhouses in and about London should "be plucked down" to the ground. Fortunately this drastic order, possibly an expression of the Queen's hot temper, was not carried into effect. We may easily guess why. Both the Lord Chamberlain and the Lord Admiral were prominent members of the Privy Council. Ever alert to protect the interests of their "servants," they knew that the players could not maintain an existence without playhouses; and they knew, too, that the Queen herself would not welcome the destruction of the great city troupes which alone were able to supply her with the entertainments she was passionately fond of. So, in all probability, secret instructions were issued to the sheriffs not to carry into effect that part of the order which called for the demolition of the playhouses.

These were uncomfortable times for the actors. But the Queen's anger gradually cooled, and ultimately punishr.lent was limited to the actual offenders. The Pembroke's Company was permanently dissolved by the Council, and the Swan playhouse was closed for dramatic performances throughout the life of the Queen.

More important still, the Privy Council ordered that henceforth license to act in the city should be granted to two companies only, and that these companies should be the Lord Chamberlain's Men, and the Lord Admiral's Men. Upon the passing of this ordinance the chief actors of the Pembroke's Company, including Gabriel Spencer, Robert Shaw, and Ben Jonson, joined the Admiral's Men

at the Rose. The other members of the Pembroke's Company, finding themselves without employment, resolved to defy the order of the Privy Council, and began to act again in the city. But the news of this coming to the Privy Council, on February 19, 1598, the Council dispatched a peremptory order to the Master of the Revels, who had general supervision of the drama, and also to the Justices of both Middlesex and Surrey, "to require you, upon receipt hereof, to take order that the aforesaid third company may be suppressed, and none suffered hereafter to play but those two formerly named, belonging to us, the Lord Admiral and Lord Chamberlain." Thus, through the erection of the Swan and the episode of The Isle of Dogs, the two older companies became more strongly than ever intrenched in their monopoly of acting in the city.

In obedience to the order of the Privy Council forbidding plays in or near London during the summer of 1597, the Chamberlain's Men had gone upon a tour of the provinces; but on November 1, when the inhibition was raised, they returned to the city. Cuthbert Burbage's lease of the land on which the Theatre stood had now expired, and he was having serious trouble with Gyles Alleyn, who for puritanical reasons did not wish the building to be longer used for plays. The Chamberlain's Men, therefore, moved into the adjacent Curtain, while the owner of the Theatre carried on further negotiations with Alleyn in the hope of inducing him to renew the lease on something like reasonable terms. But the Curtain was smaller than the Theatre, probably had not been altered to meet the demands of more modern acting, and in general was ill-suited to the needs of the great Chamberlain's Company. The inadequacy of its accommodations seems to be glanced at in the Prologue to Henry V:

THE LORD HIGH ADMIRAL (LEFT CENTRE, WITH VELVET
SKULL-CAP) AND THE LORD CHAMBERLAIN (CENTRE

FOREGROUND, WITH HIS LEFT HAND CLASPING
HIS SWORD)

The figure at the extreme right, bearing the sword of state, is

Lord Cobham.

UNIV

But pardon, gentles all,

The flat unraised spirits that hath dar'd
On this unworthy scaffold to bring forth
So great an object. Can this cockpit hold
The vasty fields of France? or may we cram
Within this wooden O the very casques

That did affright the air at Agincourt?

The Merry Wives, Henry V, and Julius Cæsar were first presented at this playhouse during 1598–99; and Romeo, as well as Falstaff, we are told, won "Curtain plaudities." Still another notable event marking the company's temporary stay there was the production, in September, 1598, of Every Man in his Humor. In connection with this play Shakespeare, according to tradition, was able to show to its author, Ben Jonson, a small bit of kindness which the latter never forgot.

Jonson, if we may believe his own statement, was of gentle birth: "His grandfather... served King Henry VIII, and was a gentleman. His father losed all his estates under Queen Mary, having been cast in prison and forfeited; at last turned minister. He himself was posthumous born a month after his father's decease." The widow subsequently married a bricklayer in London, and young Ben learned to handle the trowel and lay chimneys. But he had also received an excellent general education and a thorough grounding in the classics under the tuition of William Camden at Westminster School. Later, as did Shakespeare, he threw in his lot with the drama, and became both actor and playwright, thereby endeavoring to improve his pecuniary condition and win a place in the world of letters. Always conscious of his gentle birth, he was unduly sensitive about being called the son of a bricklayer, with the result that his enemies never ceased to twit him with lime-and-mortar jests. As already stated, he was a member of the unfortunate

I William Drummond's Conversations with Ben Jonson.