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Notes and Queries Current Issue

Published: Thu, 15 Jun 2017 00:00:00 GMT

Last Build Date: Thu, 15 Jun 2017 10:46:05 GMT


‘Italian porredge Seasoner’


NEARLY two-thirds of the way through his lengthy, excoriating attack on Gabriel Harvey, Have With You To Saffron Walden (1596), Thomas Nashe calls his victim an ‘Italian porridge seasoner’.11 The reference, like so many in the work, seems obscure, complicated and confusing at first glance. However, it would seem to have a logical explanation, one that reveals the sophisticated and allusive nature of Nashe’s polemic.

Double Play Titles


The titles given to plays in the Shakespearean period vary in some peculiar ways. Through two periods, for instance, their authors and/or publishers tended to provide not one but two names. The second name might be quasi-explanatory, as it was with Philaster, or Love Lies A Bleeding. At the opposite extreme it might offer a complete alternative, representing quite another way of thinking about the play. The Children of Paul’s issued one of their first plays in 1602 under the twin names, ‘BLURT Master-Constable. OR The Spaniards Night-Walke’. In this and plenty of other plays their second titles might well have been designed for an entirely different work from the one signified by its first name.11

N igel L eask (ed.), Robert Burns: Commonplace Books, Tour Journals, and Miscellaneous Prose


LeaskNigel (ed.), Robert Burns: Commonplace Books, Tour Journals, and Miscellaneous Prose. Pp. xvi + 432 (The Oxford Edition of the Works of Robert Burns, 1). Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014. £125.00 (ISBN 978 0 19 960317 6).

Saint Kenelm in an Imaginative Illustration


Oxford, Bodleian Library, MS Douce 368 (mid or late twelfth century) contains one of eight complete surviving copies of the Vita et miracula Sancti Kenelmi (1066–1075).11 The Vita is the earliest substantial account of the career of Kenelm, whose story would go on to feature in the South English Legendary and later English and Anglo-Latin texts. The narrative recounts Kenelm’s premonitory vision, decapitation, surreptitious burial, and posthumous rediscovery. In the climactic scene, the location of the saint’s murdered body is divulged to the pope in Rome by a dove carrying in its beak ‘a snow-white parchment inscribed with golden letters in English’ (‘niueam menbranam aureis litteris anglice inscriptam’, §10). In Douce 368 and other early manuscripts of the Vita, the English inscription is reported as a rhyming Latin couplet. However, three thirteenth- and fourteenth-century manuscripts gloss the passage with an English alliterative couplet: ‘In Klent Koubeche | Kenelm kunebearn/ liy under yorne | heaved bereved’ (‘In Clent Cow-valley, Kenelm the royal scion lies under a thorn-bush, decapitated’).22 The English alliterative couplet survives elsewhere in a free-standing late twelfth-century copy.33 An early eleventh-century application of the epithet cynebearn to Kenelm suggests that the alliterative poem predates the Vita.44 Like Cædmon’s Hymn, another miraculous English poetic utterance, the alliterative snippet on Kenelm seems to have moved from memory (in the earliest manuscripts) to the margins (in later manuscripts) and finally to the main text (in later redactions of the legend).

A New Source for Sonnet 129


Sonnet 129 is an unusual poem within Shakespeare’s collection. The great majority of the poems include personal pronouns, overwhelmingly the second person forms, ‘I’, ‘thou’, and ‘you’, with all their variants (I, me, my, myself, mine; thou, thee, thy, thyself, thine; you, ye, your, yours, yourself). It has been estimated that the Sonnets contain 960 instances of the first person form, 890 instances of the second person, and 115 instances of the third person.11 This simple statistic confirms the reader’s experience that these are predominantly poems of direct address. Sonnet 129 is one of only two poems which contain no personal pronouns. The other is 5, ‘Those howers that with gentle worke did frame’, with its reminder of mortality: ‘For neuer resting time leads Summer on, | To hideous winter and confounds him there’.22 The closest poem to 129 is 116, to which it seems a counterpart, with its laudatio of true love: Let me not to the marriage of true mindesAdmit impediments, loue is not loueWhich alters when it alteration findes But in that sonnet the poet introduces himself in the concluding couplet, to vouch for the truth of his affirmation: If this be error and vpon me proued,I neuer writ, nor no man euer loued. Sonnet 129 is its complement, both in form and substance. While many sonnets handle human sexuality in an open and positive manner, this poem is an example of vituperatio, a sustained invective against unbridled desire: Th’expence of Spirit in a waste of shameIs lust in action, and till action, lustIs periurd, murdrous, blouddy full of blame,Sauage, extreame, rude, cruell, not to trust,Inioyd no sooner but dispised straight,Past reason hunted, and no sooner hadPast reason hated as a swollowed bayt,On purpose layd to make the taker mad.Mad in pursut and in possession so,Had, hauing, and in quest, to have extreame,A blisse in proofe and prou’d a very wo,Before a ioy proposd behind a dreame,    All this the world well knows yet none knows well,    To shun the heauen that leads men to this hell.33 In classical rhetoric, epideictic is the genre of praise and blame, laudatio and vituperatio, so it is fitting that this poem should contain the most intense use of rhetorical figures in the whole collection, or indeed anywhere else in Shakespeare’s works.44 The brilliance with which Shakespeare loads every line with the appropriate figures of emphasis, causation, and (negative) transformation, has suggested to some scholars that his actual source must have been one of the Elizabethan rhetoric books. Douglas Peterson proposed Thomas Wilson’s Arte of Rhetorique (1560, 1585),55 while Paul Hammond’s candidates were a poem by George Puttenham in The Arte of English Poesie (1593) and an earlier poem by either the Earl of Surrey or Lord Vaux.66 Peterson’s parallels were generic, rather than specific, and included some misidentifications of rhetorical figures,77 but Hammond’s seem more plausible. The two poems he cites share an important feature with Sonnet 129, the structural use of antithesis to unify the whole. Vaux’s poem attacks ‘Brittle beautie’, described by a series of attributes: ‘Flowring to day, to morrow apt to faile’; ‘Ah bitter swete infecting as the poison’, and so on. Puttenham’s poem is an imitatio or rather, an emulatio, going beyond its model: ‘Brittle beauty blossome daily fading’; ‘Easie to gripe but cumbrous to weld’; ‘Gay for a while, but little while durable’. As Hammond indicates, Shakespeare may have noticed one complete phrase, also placed at a line ending: ‘O since thou art by trial not to trust’.[...]

What’s in a Date? Alberico Gentili and the Genesis of De legationibus libri tres


It may not be all that much of an exaggeration to suggest that the birth of modern international law was expedited by a happenstance. In November 1583 Francis Throckmorton was arrested on suspicion of participating in a plot to overthrow Queen Elizabeth and to place on the throne in her stead the imprisoned Mary Queen of Scots—a stratagem to be implemented by an invasion of a mercenary army led by the Duke of Guise. The Spanish ambassador to England, Bernardino de Mendoza, was intimately involved, too, which raised the delicate matter of ambassadorial privileges. Twelve years earlier, a panel of five English civil lawyers had determined in the analogous case of the Scottish ambassador to England, John Lesley, Bishop of Ross—who had been implicated in the Ridolfi Plot—that a scheming legate forfeited his immunity: we are of Opynnyon that an Embassador procuringe an Insurrection or Rebellion in the Prince’s Cowntrey towards whome he is Embassador, ought not, Jure Gentium et Civili Romanor. to enjoye the Previleges otherwise dew to an Embassador; but that he maye notwithstandinge be ponished for the same.11

Thomas Middleton’s Entertainments For William Cockayne (1619–1620)


In 1619, Middleton scripted The Triumphs of Love and Antiquity, the show celebrating the inauguration of Sir William Cockayne as London’s new Lord Mayor. The mayoral show includes a speech by ‘Orpheus’, who has ‘over his head an artificial cock, often made to crow and flutter with his wings’ (109–111).11 Addressing the Lord Mayor, Orpheus explains the significance of the cock: Behold yon bird of state, the vigilant cock,The morning’s herald and the plowman’s clock,At whose shrill crow the very lion trembles,The sturdiest prey-taker that here assembles;How fitly does it match your name and power … (165–169) The image of the cock appears again in Entertainment 1 of Middleton’s The Honourable Entertainments, performed in 1620. Here, too, the cock is dubbed a ‘bird of state’ and attention is given to its ‘early morning crowing’, which subdues lions with its speed and strength (15, 21).

Board Game Squares, Face Cards, and Chess in Antony and Cleopatra


In Antony and Cleopatra the trope of competition is announced unambiguously by Octavius Caesar at his first entrance: ‘It is not Caesar’s natural vice to hate / Our great competitor’ (I.iv.2–3) and the competition between the triumvirs will end the republic and see Octavius created Augustus, the first Roman Emperor. Naturally the theme of contest has not gone unnoticed and a number of critics address this theme, with Rick Bowers, who describes it as a ‘manipulative godgame’, and Linda Woodbridge, in particular, commenting on the gaming allusions.11

R ob L atham (ed.), The Oxford Handbook of Science Fiction


LathamRob (ed.), The Oxford Handbook of Science Fiction. Pp. xviii + 620. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 2014. £97.00 (ISBN 978 0 19 983884 4).

Books Received


Victoria Aarons (ed.), The Cambridge Companion to Saul Bellow. Pp. xvi + 199 (Cambridge Companions). Cambridge, New York: Cambridge University Press, 2017. Paperbound £18.99 (ISBN 978 1 107 52091 2).

Faustus Face to Face with Damnation: Another Morality Model


THERE is striking divergence between the ‘A’ (1604) and ‘B’ (1616) texts of Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus in the climactic scene where the protagonist awaits the devils at the stroke of midnight. The earlier, much starker, version prepares for the terrible final soliloquy—one of the landmarks of early modern English tragedy, which derives only partially and indirectly from the English version of the Faustbuch11—simply by a prose conversation between Faustus and the horrified Scholars, who then withdraw to pray for him (A-text, V.ii.56–7).22 The B-text prefaces the equivalent conversation by putting the devils on stage ‘To mark him how he doth demean himself’ (B-text, V.ii.10), and follows it with a brief exchange between Faustus and a taunting Mephistopheles (92–103), then with rebukes from both the Good and Bad Angel. The former exits as ‘Hell is discovered’ (V.ii.120 SD). The ‘jaws of hell’, thus ‘open to receive’ (120) him, torture Faustus’ sight. His line, ‘Ugly hell, gape not’ (190), gains force from this display—in the A-text it may remain merely imaginary33—whose impact has been further increased by the Bad Angel: ‘Now, Faustus, let thine eyes with horror stare / Into that vast perpetual torture-house’ (121–2). Only then does the latter withdraw, casting a final taunt—‘He that loves pleasure must for pleasure fall’ (135)—and promising to return ‘anon’ (136). Nothing indicates that the hell-mouth and the supervising devils have disappeared when Faustus launches into his soliloquy.

Who Wooed Desdemona?: The Crux at Othello, III, III, 94 *


Othello presents editors with different quarto (1622) and Folio (1623) versions and difficult choices. Probably because of its greater length and the odds of authorial revision, recent editors choose F as their copy text and use Q to emend it.

Chaucer’s Cook’s Tale, 4422


… Anon he sente his bed and his arrayUnto a compeer of his owene sort,That lovede dys, and revel, and disport,And hadde a wyf that heeld for contenaunceA shoppe, and swyved for hir sustenaunce.(I, 4418–4422)

Reconsidering the Provenance of the Henry VII and Margaret Tudor Book of Hours


On 8 August 1503, Henry VII’s eldest daughter Margaret Tudor married James IV, King of Scotland, in a symbolic union of the Treaty of Perpetual Peace between England and Scotland. In celebration of this union and her new status as Queen of Scotland, Margaret received the gifts of two luxurious Books of Hours; one from her new husband and the other from her father. Whilst some research has been conducted into the iconography and origins of these personal prayer books, consideration of the provenance and ownership history of these Books of Hours can shed new light on the character, personal relationships, political relationships, and gift-giving practices performed by Margaret Tudor at the Scottish Renaissance court.

Azure, Three Horseshoes Or : The Arms of Fountains Abbey, An Enduring Puzzle


In 1530 the herald Thomas Tonge conducted a visitation of the northern counties of England when he recorded that the arms of Fountains Abbey (Yorkshire) were azure, three horseshoes or surmounted by a mitre and crozier (Figure 1).11 Stone shields sculpted with three horseshoes occur on late medieval building works at the abbey (Figure 2). These arms have long been a source of puzzlement to antiquarians, scholars, and visitors to the monastery. Although they have received occasional comment in the literature, and various theories have been advanced as to their meaning,22 there has never been a thorough analysis of these unusual arms or indeed the wider use of heraldry by Fountains Abbey, something this paper will seek to remedy. It will outline the evidence concerning the abbey’s arms and show that two shields can be firmly associated with the monastery. The earlier of these shields had the blazon gules, a cross between four lions argent and was used by Fountains from at least the early fifteenth century, and as will be shown, can be identified as the arms of St Oswald. These arms were of significance to the religious life of the monastery and were still associated with Fountains when use of the second shield, the arms with the three horseshoes, appears to have emerged during the rule of Abbot Marmaduke Huby (1495–1526). Evidence will be discussed that clearly demonstrates that these later arms were indeed those of the abbey and not, as has sometimes been suggested, Huby’s personal coat. Possible explanations for the adoption of these arms by the monastery will be explored, but as will be seen, a satisfactory reason remains elusive.

A Newly Discovered Manuscript of Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey’s Translation of Martial’s Epigram X


THE flyleaves of Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford, MS Bodley 3 (Bo3) contain a previously unknown partial copy of Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey’s translation of Martial’s Epigram X.11 The codicological and textual details of this copy offer insights into the circulation of Surrey’s verse. Bo3 is of particular interest in that an incomplete version of Martial’s Latin text was copied on a page facing Surrey’s translation, a situation that is, as far as I know, unique.22 What follows is a transcription of the text of Bo3, a collation against McGaw’s recent critical edition of the text, a discussion of the textual affiliations of Bo3, and a brief discussion of the text’s manuscript situation.33

Spenser’s Chrysogone and Euripides’ Medea


In Book III, canto vi, of The Faerie Queene, Spenser tells the story of how Belphoebe and Amoret were immaculately conceived: ‘vpon a Sommers shinie day, / When Titan faire his beames did display’, their mother fell asleep after bathing in a fountain, whereupon ‘[t]he sunbeames bright vpon her body playd, … And pierst into her wombe’.11 In light of her impregnation by Titan’s shining beams, it is fitting that Spenser named this character Chrysogone, from the Greek χρύσεος (golden) and γονή (seed, birth, race).22 Scholars have noted the close parallel between Spenser’s character and the mythological Danaë, who conceives Perseus after Zeus visits her in the form of a shower of gold.33 Somewhat less persuasive are attempts to identify a precedent for her name. Spenser’s combination of Greek words certainly resonates with lemmata found in early modern dictionaries: Sir Thomas Elyot’s of 1538 defines chrysogonum as ‘that bryngeth forth golde’, as does Thomas Cooper’s of 1565, while Randle Cotgrave’s of 1611 defines chrysogone as ‘Gold producing’.44 However, neither of these definitions quite captures the sense intended by Spenser of the golden means by which Belphoebe and Amoret are conceived. Several characters named Chrysogone can be found in ancient and medieval sources (such as the devotee of Aphrodite in Theocritus’ Epigram 13), but again the parallels are inexact at best.55 A potentially more illuminating source, one that combines both the sound and the sense of Spenser’s choice of name, seems to have gone unnoticed.

Speaking ‘by the card’: Hamlet Remembers His Catechism


In Act V of Shakespeare’s Hamlet (c.1601), after the Gravedigger wittily sidesteps four simple questions from the Prince, Hamlet remarks to Horatio, ‘We must speak by the card or equivocation will undo us’ (V.i.129–130).11 The ‘card’ that the Prince would seem figuratively to allude to here, by which to thwart the Gravedigger’s evasive quibbling, has been narrowly glossed by Hamlet editors going back at least as far as John Dover Wilson’s 1936 edition, with little variation. I would like to offer a fresh take on this ‘card’, in its possible allusion to Elizabethan catechisms.

Francis Bacon and ‘The Summe of the Bible’


At some point in 1639, the scholarly Justinian Isham heard of an intriguing manuscript by Francis Bacon (1561–1626) in the possession of Sir Christopher Hatton. Samuel Hartlib recorded Isham’s information in his Ephemerides: it was apparently ‘a MS. of Verulam containing an Epitome of the Histories of the Bibel’.11 In September Isham took the opportunity to see this document. His report to Hartlib does not conceal his disappointment: The Abridgement of the Bible, which I made such Account to see was nothing to that I expected, not aboue 30 lines & whither writt by Verulam tis doubtfull; there is nothing neere that, in it, as in the Preface to most Bibles.22

Exeter Book Riddles , I: Riddles 60 and 17


Riddles 60 and 17 are undamaged in the manuscript and not very difficult, but there are no agreed solutions.11 I take Riddle 60 before 17 because its place outside the two groups of Riddles in the Exeter Book requires first that it is judged to be a riddle. It is a matter of definition. I agree with those who think Riddle 60 goes with the next poem in the manuscript The Husband’s [or Lover’s] Message,22 but I accept that the damage of the latter poem does not rule out the possibility that its damaged end might contain ‘the message’. Message in the modern title need not mean that the poem is or requires a message: the first eight lines of that poem (and some lines later) are so badly damaged that their sense is lost, as is the sense of the runes heard in the final sentence, and that clearly is important.33 What is confusing, because it is unusual, is that the message, if Riddle 60, appears to be in the form of a riddle. That may be why there is no agreement. This is the opening, lines 1–3a: Ic wæs be sonde sæwealle neahæt merefaroþe, minum gewunadefrumstaþole fæst. How it is translated depends on the interpretation of be sonde. The lexicographers and editors take it, s.v. sand, sond, as the neuter noun ‘sand, gravel’, and they extend it in sense to ‘the (sandy) seashore’ to fit in with lines 6b–7a (mec …) yð sio brune | lagufæðme beleolc ‘the dark wave played about me with (its) watery grasp’.44 But the feminine homonym sand, sond ‘message’ also makes good sense, better sense perhaps if the phrase be sonde is interpreted as ‘by way of message’.55Riddle 60 lines 1–3a may be translated: ‘By way of message, I was near the sea-wall close to the traversable ocean remaining secure to (my) home base.’ Difficult words serve only to confuse our understanding, and that may be a good reason for thinking this poetic text a riddle, though it does not end by any request to attempt a solution, such as Saga hwæt ic hatte ‘Say what I am called!’ But then not all riddles have such words at or near the end.

A New Solution to the Exeter Book Riddle 41—Barm, a Dough-starter


Riddle 4111 is one of the more challenging riddles found in the Exeter Book, which was donated by bishop Leofric, the first bishop of Exeter, to the Library of Exeter Cathedral in 1072. With the new solution BARM22 (dough-starter), a coherent thematic structure can be shown, allowing the understanding of these six lines of the manuscript as a complete riddle (Figure 1).

New Dating for The Chronicle from Rollo to Edward IV


The Chronicle from Rollo to Edward IV is a brief Yorkist chronicle written to establish Edward IV’s legitimacy, outlining his claims to the crowns of ‘England and of Fraunce of Castell and of Legeons and to the Duchie of Normandie’.11 The chronicle concludes by explaining Edward IV’s claim to the French crown, but it begins with the foundation of the Duchy of Normandy and traces the English crown genealogically from William the Conqueror up to Edward III. At this point, the structure of the account shifts and it turns to an examination of the descendants of Edward III’s many children.

A Possible Source For sir Thomas More’s ‘Mountainish Inhumanity’


In the additions to to Sir Thomas More written by Hand D, now commonly accepted as Shakespeare’s contribution to the play’s revision, More convinces London citizens to cease their rebellion against the presence of Flemish refugees. He invites them to imagine their wishes granted, the ‘wretched strangers / Their babies at their backs, with their poor luggage, / Plodding to th’ports and coasts for transportation’. Urging the Londoners to imagine themselves in the strangers’ shoes, he flips their perspective on the matter of migration. ‘What would you think / To be thus used?’ he asks the rebels, concluding, ‘[t]his is the strangers’ case, / And this your mountainish inhumanity’.11 The latter two words figure frequently in discussions concerning the authorship of the scene and the date of the revisions. Moreover, the paleography and meaning of the word ‘mountainish’ have troubled editors. A possible source for the phrase throws new light on these discussions.

Replacing Bacchus in Shakespeare’s Anthony and Cleopatra IV.iii


In Act IV, Scene iii, soldiers on watch hear something weird: ‘Music of the hautboys is under the stage’. The First Soldier asks, ‘What should this mean?’ His comrade replies: ‘’Tis the god Hercules, whom Anthony loved, / Now leaves him’ (IV.iii.13–15).11 Plutarch, Shakespeare’s source, depicts the music differently: within litle of midnight, when all the citie was quiet ... sodainly they heard a maruelous sweete harmonie of sundrie sortes of instrumentes of musicke, with the crie of a multitude of people, as they had bene dauncing, and had song as they vse in Bacchus feastes, with mouinges and turninges after the maner of the Satyres … . Now, such as in reason sought the depth of the interpretacion of this wõder, thought that it was the god vnto whom Antonius bare singular deuotion to counterfeate and resemble him, that did forsake them.22 Earlier in the same text, we find ‘that Antonius came of the race of Hercules … and in the manner of his life he followed Bacchus: and therefore he was called the new Bacchus’.33 Although Plutarch’s Antony descends from Hercules, he imitates Bacchus, and it is Bacchus who reportedly abandons him. Shakespeare’s replacement of Bacchus with Hercules ‘at the very least represents deliberate choice between two equal possibilities’.44

A Shakespearean Epitaph in a Bedfordshire Church?


On 23 September 1663, antiquarian Sir William Dugdale visited St Bartholomew’s church in Tong, Shropshire. As part of his account of the church, he wrote: On the north side of the chancel of Tonge church, in the county of Salop, stands a very stately tomb, supported with Corinthian columns. It hath two figures of men in armour thereon lying—the one below the arches and columns, and the other above them—and this epitaph upon it: ‘Thomas Stanley, Knight, second son of Edward, Earl of Derby’, etc. These following verses were made by William Shakespeare, the late famous tragedian.

The Identity of John Hayward’s ‘A.P.’


Asked by Queen Elizabeth I whether there was any treason in John Hayward’s Life and Raigne of King Henrie IIII, Francis Bacon famously replied that in his opinion there was no treason, but much felony: Hayward had lifted most of his political observations from Tacitus. In fact, as Edwin Benjamin observed some sixty years ago, he borrowed these sentences mainly from Henry Savile’s 1591 translation of Tacitus’s Histories.11 Hayward evidently wanted to take advantage of the late sixteenth-century vogue for Tacitean, politic histories. He dedicated his work to the Earl of Essex, whose circle were among the chief proponents of this genre in England. He also included a short epistle, ‘A.P. to the Reader’, which extols the value of history to provide ‘lively patterns, both for private directions and for affayres of state’.22 As Essex’s star fell, Hayward’s text came under scrutiny of the crown: the story of his trial and subsequent imprisonment is well known.33 But there was another theft, which Francis Bacon and other readers of Hayward’s history overlooked. A.P., generally assumed to be a pseudonym for Hayward or a member of the Essex circle, is actually the esteemed fifteenth-century Florentine scholar, Angelo Poliziano. The epistle is a translation of excerpts from the Praefatio in Suetonium, an introduction to a series of lectures on Suetonius delivered by Poliziano in 1490–91.44 This discovery encourages us to reevaluate the significance of Hayward’s history in late Elizabethan historiography.

Francis Bacon’s ‘Speech on a Case of Deer-Stealing’


The editor of the nineteenth-century edition of The Letters and the Life of Francis Bacon included a report of a speech by Bacon concerning illegal hunting in parks.11 The text was accurately reproduced from a manuscript in the British Library.22 That manuscript lacked context and dated the speech simply as given on 23 October. Spedding conjectured that the speech was by Bacon as Attorney-General, prosecuting in the Star Chamber on 23 October 1614, on the basis of instructions sent to Bacon in that year.33 Another report of the speech has been discovered, in a collection of Star Chamber reports in the Folger Shakespeare Library.44 The collection is associated with the barrister and law reporter Francis Moore, but it is not clear if he is the author. It is likely that the manuscript used for the nineteenth century printing extracted the speech from this or another larger collection of Star Chamber reports. No other collection of reports has been found to include Bacon’s speech, although several do include many of the cases in the Folger manuscript.55

Referencing Pliny’s Naturalis Historia in Early Modern England


Pliny the Elder’s Naturalis Historia has long been regarded as one of the most widely read works of natural history in the Western canon. Jonathan Woolfson characterizes the thirty-seven-book tome as the ‘most comprehensive ancient Roman source on the natural world and on natural science’, and evidence of the Natural History’s circulation can be found in every century since its initial publication in 77 ce.11 Yet despite historians’ awareness of Pliny’s potential familiarity with Renaissance readers, literary scholarship charting Pliny’s influence has been slight, especially relative to studies of other Roman authors like Ovid or Plutarch. This circumstance results, at least in part, from Shakespeare’s dominancy in discussions of literary behaviours; Shakespeare’s relatively restricted use of Pliny has caused scholars to overlook the author as a ubiquitous encyclopedic resource in the works of his contemporaries. By outlining the literary and scholarly history of Pliny’s Naturalis Historia in sixteenth- and seventeenth-century England, this note highlights early dramatists’ casual assumptions about their audiences’ familiarity with Pliny.

A shley C hantler and R ob H awkes (eds), Ford Madox Ford’s Parade’s End: The First World War, Culture, and Modernity


ChantlerAshley and HawkesRob (eds), Ford Madox Ford’sParade’s End: The First World War, Culture, and Modernity. Pp. 222 (International Ford Madox Ford Studies 13). Amsterdam, New York: Rodopi, 2014. Paperbound £48.00 (ISBN 978 90 4203863 9).

John Bracebridge and the Catholicon Anglicum


The English–Latin dictionary now called the Catholicon Anglicum was compiled for the use of schoolboys in the fifteenth century. It is, together with an independent English–Latin dictionary called the Promptorium parvulorum, derived from one of the first Latin dictionaries with extensive English interpretamenta, those in the Medulla grammatice tradition, a member or cousin of which was printed in 1500 under the title Ortus vocabulorum. The Latin text of the Medulla tradition is derived from the Catholicon of Giovanni Balbi of Genoa (completed 1286), a grammatical compendium in five parts, of which the first four treated orthographia, accentus, ethimologia, and figurae, and the fifth, which was considerably longer than the other four put together, was an alphabetized Latin dictionary. Balbi’s Catholicon might be copied in two or more volumes, and the first four parts were sometimes transmitted separately from the fifth.11

Silverdale in Lancashire: The Place-name and the Hoard


IN September 2011, a large hoard of Viking silver dating from around ad 905 was found at Silverdale in Lancashire.11 Despite the transparency of the place-name, a reference to buried treasure had never been suspected; and even now, the connection cannot be taken for granted. As David Parsons has warned with regard to the putative meaning ‘place with a smithy’ for Hammerwich, the site of the Staffordshire Hoard, ‘there must be no jumping to conclusions’.22 A literal interpretation of Silverdale is problematized first by the weight of scholarly tradition in favour of an alternative explanation, and secondly by the fact that it seems counter-productive for a place-name to draw attention to a treasure that was buried in order to keep it secret. This article will deal with each of these points in turn, and will conclude by making a case for a direct connection between the Silverdale Hoard and the place-name by which it is known.

Verse and Prose in Henry V


In 1998 I employed neural networks using letter frequencies to explore the authorship of the Shakespeare First Folio. The patterns that emerged presented sections which showed a significant difference from the writing of Shakespeare. These included, for example, the first acts of Henry V, Edward III, 1 Henry VI, and Titus Andronicus—the last three now widely accepted as containing text not by Shakespeare.

Notes on the Religious Element in Hamlet


ALTHOUGH Shakespeare’s Hamlet is now widely acknowledged to be pervaded by references and allusions to matters of religious doctrine and controversy, discussion on their overall import continues. The following notes seek to identify or clarify several such references and allusions. They generally do not replicate information readily available in the established literature, but do draw attention to some neglected or controversial previous commentary.

‘Written in the Margent’ : Shakespeare’s Metaphor of the Geneva Bible Marginal Notes


Shakespeare’s knowledge and frequent use of the Bible have been long known11 although his Biblical allusions still tend to pass unnoticed in scholarly editions of his works in any but the most obvious cases. Shakespeare preferred the Geneva Bible.22 His works display familiarity, not only with the precise wording of its text, but its marginal notes and other explanatory materials and tables.

Samuel Daniel’s Debt to Stefano Guazzo


It has long been known that Stefano Guazzo’s Courtesy Book The Civile Conversation was enormously popular in the Renaissance. Its first three Books were translated from the French of Gabriel Chappuys in 1581 by George Pettie, and a translation of the fourth Book from the original Italian was added by Bartholomew Young in 1586.11 A painstaking study by John Leon Lievsay22 demonstrates that Guazzo was alluded to, or cited by, Richard Brathwaite, Lodowick Bryskett, Robert Burton, William Drummond, Florio, Greene, Patrick Hannay, Gabriel Harvey, George Herbert, Lyly, Barnabe Rich, Shakespeare, Spenser (possibly), and many others. Curiously, however, there is no mention whatever of Samuel Daniel, whose contribution to Elizabethan and Jacobean literature was of far greater importance than several of the writers whose works Lievsay examines.

Dukes, Dogi and Mogógni : Genoa in John Marston’s The Malcontent


To my knowledge, no editor of John Marston’s The Malcontent (c. 1603, publ. 1604) thus far seems to have given much thought to a passage in its introductory epistle ‘To the Reader’, where the playwright warns readers ‘that in some things I have willingly erred, as in supposing a Duke of Genoa, and in taking names different from that city’s families’.11 It is indisputable that the names and events in the play are fictional and do not closely mirror any specific episodes in the history of Genoa. It is also true that Genoa was not a dukedom but an oligarchic republic, as duly noted by George K. Hunter in the Revels Plays edition, whose remark others seem to have followed.22 However, the oligarchic republic of Genoa was in fact ruled by a doge, a title that was commonly translated in early modern English as ‘Duke’, as Marston himself did, for instance, when he listed Doge Piero Sforza among the dramatis personae of Antonio and Mellida as ‘Duke of Venice’.33

A Figure and Fate Shared by Early Poems of Tourneur and Middleton


Cyril Tourneur and Thomas Middleton are now linked primarily by a misattribution: The Revenger’s Tragedy, now assigned by consensus to Middleton, was for centuries thought to be by Tourneur. But they have something else in common, apparently unremarked. Early in their careers, they both wrote long, rather obscure poems on grim topics, Tourneur’s The Transformed Metamorphosis and Middleton’s The Ghost of Lucrece, which were published in the same year, 1600, by the same printer, Valentine Simmes (in both cases without a bookseller specified). Neither book appears in the Stationer’s Register, both survive in a single copy (Tourneur’s now located at the British Library and Middleton’s at the Folger), and both were unknown until discovered by chance, Tourneur’s in 1872 and Middleton’s in 1920.

Spinella’s Name in John Ford’s The Lady’s Trial


Set in Genoa, John Ford’s The Lady’s Trial (1637–38, publ. 1639) features a character named Spinella, the wife of the main character Auria, Ford’s version of the glorious Genoese surname Doria—probably influenced by the spellings ‘Auria’ and ‘D’Auria’ used in Richard Knolles’s The general historie of the Turkes (1603) and in Fynes Moryson’s Itinerary (1617) respectively. Lisa Hopkins, the latest editor of the play, rightly argues that Spinella’s name ‘Probably derives from spinel, a precious stone which is red in colour and resembles a ruby. Ford was interested in jewels’.11

U lka A njaria (ed.), A History of the Indian English Novel


AnjariaUlka (ed.), A History of the Indian English Novel. Pp. xvii + 430. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2015. £74.99 US$120.00 (ISBN 978–1–107–07996–0).

Skelton’s A ballade of the scottishe kynge, lines 11–12, 31–33


THE poem A ballade of the scottishe kynge ([1513] STC 22593) is ascribed to the press of Richard Faques and seems to have been among the earliest responses to the English victory at Flodden in September 1513.11

An Interpretation of John Dee’s ‘Delta’ from his Letter to William Camden


John Dee, Tudor England’s most well-read polymath, was well versed in the disciplines of mathematics, natural philosophy, alchemy, steganography, and a wealth of other subjects found on the shelves of his library at Mortlake—the largest private library in sixteenth-century England. He is perhaps most commonly remembered as astrologer to queen Elizabeth I and for his conversations with angels with the aid of scryer Edward Kelley. He was also a prolific doodler. The annotations of his books and manuscripts indicate that he was an avid reader and researcher. The margins of these tomes are littered with commentary, notae, manicules, and an abundance of illustrations. Amongst these there is one paratextual device that is most prevalent, and arguably the most significant; the Greek delta. The triangular delta (Δ), the fourth letter of the Greek alphabet, serves as Dee’s most prevalent symbolic representation of self, often used in place of his name or signature. As with many early modern symbols, one sigil can provide multiple meanings.11 The most straightforward theory would be that Dee selected the delta as shorthand for his name as the lower case delta (δ) resembles the letter ‘d’ and thus also a phonetic representation of his surname.

La morte del padre : Translating Machiavelli


THE sixteenth-century Huguenot magistrate Innocent Gentillet is best remembered for his attempt to rebut the doctrines espoused within, and subsequently accumulated around, Niccolò Machiavelli’s Il principe, a work written around 1513 but not printed until 1532. Gentillet’s Discours d’état … contre Machiavel (1576) was commonly known as the Anti-Machiavel, and was comprehensively mined by Protestant political theorists not always fully conversant with Machiavelli’s text. In due course, it appeared in English translation.11

Possible Light on the Authorship of Fair Em


THOMAS KYD is traditionally accepted as the author of The Spanish Tragedy (1587), Soliman and Perseda (1588), Cornelia (1594), and a translation of Torquato Tasso’s Padre di Famiglia, known as The Householder’s Philosophy (1588). Kyd also seems to have written a lost Hamlet (1588) play that preceded Shakespeare’s version.11 In a general essay published in the Times Literary Supplement in 2008, Brian Vickers argued for a new Kyd canon, ascribing to him The True Chronicle History of King Leir (1589), Arden of Faversham (1590), and Fair Em, the Miller’s Daughter of Manchester (1590).22 Vickers’s attributions were rejected by several scholars using different systems, largely arithmetico-statistical, based on word frequencies. However, I have devoted several years to scrutinizing the Vickers ascriptions and the arguments against them. The internal evidence I have gathered—encompassing verbal parallels (both common and rare), feminine endings, exclamations, intensifiers, colloquialisms, prefixes, suffixes, rhyme forms, linguistic idiosyncrasies, pause patterns, compound formations, and overall dramaturgy—has led me to endorse Vickers’s ascriptions.33 I have also collected some, albeit less compelling, evidence linking Thomas Nashe’s possible attack against Kyd with Robert Greene’s diatribe against the anonymous author of Fair Em.

‘A Possible Source for Richard III’s Prophetic Nightmare in Guicciardini’


In Shakespeare’s Richard III, V.iii, during the night before his fatal Battle of Bosworth Field, King Richard is visited by the ghosts of those he has slain—Prince Edward of Wales, Henry VI, Clarence, Rivers, Grey, Vaughn, the two young princes Edward V and Richard of Shrewsbury, Hastings, Lady Anne, and Buckingham. As King Richard awakens, he is terrified, as though these visits were real events. Only then does he realize he had a nightmare—‘Soft, I did but dream./ O coward conscience, how dost thou afflict me!’ (V.iii.178–179). His dream prefigures his defeat and death the next day.

Henry V and Mark 9:23


According to Naseeb Shaheen, of the 120 allusions to Mark’s gospel in Shakespeare’s plays only four appear in Henry V.11 However, Shaheen does not record that King Henry also alludes to Mark’s gospel just after his St Crispin’s Day speech before the Battle of Agincourt. Henry’s speech emboldens his men by appealing not only to their patriotism and sense of brotherhood but also to their mental preparedness. Henry asserts that his honour of fighting on this day is such that he would not have ‘one man more … share from me / For the best hope I have’, or in Bevington’s gloss, this is not a day he ‘would exchange for my hope of eternal life’ (IV.iii.33 n).22 Henry’s hope of victory is equally balanced by his rejection of fear: ‘We would not die in that man’s company / That fears his fellowship to die with us’ (IV.iv.38–39). The king then demonstrates the assuredness he has just urged on his men when Salisbury informs him that ‘The French are bravely in their battles set, / And will with all expedience charge on us.’ Henry confidently replies, ‘All things are ready if our minds be so’ (IV.iii.69–71), a statement that does not appear in the chronicles of Hall and Holinshed.

The Walking Forest Motif in Shakespeare’s Macbeth —Origins


The motif of the walking forest present in Shakespeare’s Macbeth, as well as in Holinshed’s and Boece’s chronicles, has a pedigree that can be traced back to ancient times. Not only is it literally a case of a walking forest, which in itself is indicative of myth, but it is also accompanied by a suggestion of military activity. An investigation of the traces of an ancient Celtic culture in the works of William Shakespeare reveals some interesting details that relate to the origins of the walking forest motif. For example, in his book Les Druides,11 the late French specialist in Celtic Studies Christian-J. Guyonvarc’h describes what he calls the ‘vegetal war’.22 He cites three occurrences of the vegetal motif within the corpora of Irish and Welsh texts, and he offers a continental example that appears in Livy’s History of Rome. Another instance of this motif, though not mentioned in Guyonvarc’h, appears in the Welsh Mabinogion. According to Pierre Le Roux,33 the fact that the motif can be found on the continent in Gaul and in Germany, as well as in Wales and Ireland, confirms that it belongs to a homogeneous Celtic culture. This possible Celtic origin of an element in Macbeth has not so far been noticed in any work done on Shakespeare’s sources.

Z oe J aques and E ugene G iddens , Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass: A Publishing History


JaquesZoe and GiddensEugene, Lewis Carroll’s Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking-Glass: A Publishing History. Pp. xiv + 248 (Ashgate Studies in Publishing History). Farnham and Burlington: Ashgate, 2013. £65.00 (ISBN 978 1 4094 1903 7).

A nne E. F ernald (ed.), Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway V ictoria R osner (ed.), The Cambridge Companion to The Bloomsbury Group


FernaldAnne E. (ed.), Virginia Woolf, Mrs. Dalloway. Pp. ciii + 378 (The Cambridge Edition of the Works of Virginia Woolf). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2015. £93.00 (ISBN 978 1 107 02878 4).

E velyn T sz Y an C han , Virginia Woolf and The Professions


Tsz Yan ChanEvelyn, Virginia Woolf and The Professions. Pp. x + 219. Cambridge, New York: Cambridge University Press, 2014. Hardbound £60.00 (ISBN 978–1–107–07024–0).

P ascale A ebischer and K athryn P rince (eds), Performing Early Modern Drama Today


AebischerPascale and PrinceKathryn (eds), Performing Early Modern Drama Today. Pp. xiii + 247. Cambridge, New York: Cambridge University Press, 2012. £60.00 US$99.00 (ISBN 978 0 521 19335 1).

S. J. B ailes and N. T ill (eds), Beckett and Musicality


BailesS. J. and TillN. (eds), Beckett and Musicality. Pp. xvi + 285. Farnham and Burlington: Ashgate, 2014. £65.00 (ISBN 978 1 4724 0963 8).

The Igil and Exeter Book Riddle 15


RIDDLE 15 is one of the longest and most elaborate animal-riddles in the tenth-century Exeter Book of Old English poetry.11 The debate over which animal appears in this compelling tale of a family’s flight and the mother’s final stand against their canine attacker has not yet been put to rest. In a recent, comprehensive analysis of this riddle, Dieter Bitterli comes to the conclusion that the creature in question is a porcupine.22 However, given the fox’s rivalry with dogs and wolves, this animal (or, specifically, a vixen33) also receives wide support.44 I am of the opinion that both solutions have merit and either one could be correct.55 In suggesting that, rather than ‘porcupine’, adherents of Bitterli’s interpretation should solve the riddle as igil,66 this note both supports and nuances his conclusions and reminds solvers that a solution in the language of the riddle is always preferable to one that draws on modern linguistic forms and categorizations.77

An Unrecorded Copy of Wynkyn de Worde’s 1506 Edition of Contemplations of the Dread and Love of God


THE late medieval devotional prose work Contemplations of the Dread and Love of God (also known as Fervor Amoris) was printed by Wynkyn de Worde in 1506 (STC 21259) and reprinted by him [1519?] (STC 21260). De Worde attributed the text (incorrectly) to Richard Rolle.

A Missing Distich in Thomas Drant


THOMAS DRANT (c.1540–78) is best remembered today, if at all, for an audacious metaphor. Drant was the first to translate all of Horace’s Satires into English, and in the preface to this translation, included in his volume A Medicinable Morall (1566), he writes: First, I have done as the people of God were commanded to do11 with their captive women that were handsome and beautiful: I have shaved off his [Horace’s] hair and pared off his nails, that is, I have wiped away all his vanity and superfluity of matter … I have Englished things not according to the vein of the Latin propriety, but of our own vulgar tongue. I have interfarced (to remove his obscurity and sometimes to better his matter) much of my own devising. I have pieced his reason, eked and mended his similitudes, mollified his hardness, prolonged his curtal kind of speeches, changed and much altered his words, but not his sentence; or at least, I dare say, not his purpose.22 Such a swaggering declaration has not gone unnoticed: scholars cite the passage as an especially forceful expression of translation as conquest.33 Horace’s moral purpose, not his poetry, is what matters for Drant.

A New Source for the Chariot Scenes in Marlowe’s Tamburlaine, Part II


According to Louis le Roy, the Renaissance has its origins in the conquests of Tamburlaine. Le Roy’s major work, De la vicissitude ou variété des choses de l’univers, printed in 1571 and translated into English as Of the Interchangeable Course, or Variety of Things in the Whole World in 1594, surveys the extent, nature, and inevitability of change from the paths of the stars to human affairs. He ends, however, with an examination of his own time, arguing that the achievements of the modern world surpass those of the ancients and thus that the world is not doomed to perpetual decay. To start the story of how ‘we in these partes towards the West recouered within these two hundred yeares, the excellency of Learning’ he observes ‘it seemeth that the meruailes of this age ought to begin at the great and inuincible TAMBERLAN’, for ‘During the raigne of TAMBERLAN, began the restitution of the tongues; and of all sciences’ (Le Roy 107v, 108v). At this time, the Turks were threatening Greece, and so the Byzantine emperor sent ‘Emanuel Chrysoloras a gentleman of Constantinople a renowmed personage in learning and all virtue … vnto the kings of Europe, to obtaine succours of them for Greece’ (Le Roy 109r). By the time he arrived in western Europe, however, ‘he was rid of that painfull charge … seeing his country deliuered from the feare of Baiazet whom Tamburlan held prisoner’ (Le Roy 109r). Chrysoloras decided, nonetheless, to stay in Venice, ‘where he taught first the Greeke tongue, which was left off, and vnknowen’ (Le Roy 109r). In short, Tamburlaine, by removing the Turkish threat to Greece, allowed Greek learning to be revived in Italy, thereby enabling the burgeoning of learning and the arts that we now know as the Renaissance.

The Proximity of Hand D of Sir Thomas More and Othello : a Detail


GARY TAYLOR And Rory Loughnane in ‘The Canon and Chronology of Shakespeare’s Works’ assign a date for the Additions to Sir Thomas More of 1603–4 with a ‘best guess’ of 1604;11 the Additions include the well-researched Hand D of Addition II, generally ascribed to Shakespeare. The closest adjacent dating by Taylor and Loughnane is that of Othello, given as 1604 with a best guess of early 1604.22 This is nearer Hand D than Measure for Measure with a best guess of late 160433 or Hamlet with a ‘Revision/Adaptation Best Guess’ of early 1602 or mid-1603.44

The Source of Hrothgar’s Information ( Beowulf , lines 1345–1349a)


The Geatish hero Beowulf comes to the Danish King Hrothgar’s hall in order to rid it of the havoc wrought every night by the monster Grendel. Beowulf achieves the feat, and his victory over Grendel is celebrated by a splendid party. At the conclusion of the festivity, the royals and Beowulf leave the hall and betake themselves to their sleeping quarters, whereas the retainers remain in the hall: wæs seo þeod tilu (line 1250b) ‘this nation was good’.11 During the night, Grendles modor (line 1258b) ‘Grendel’s mother’ enters the hall and kills and drags away one nobleman (æþelinga anne, line 1294). When the next morning Beowulf asks Hrothgar whether his night was getæse (line 1320b) ‘agreeable’, the king answers that the trouble is renewed: Ne frin þu æfter sælum! Sorh is geniwod Denigea leodum (lines 1322b–1323a) ‘do not inquire about happiness! Sorrow is renewed for the Danish people’.

Is OE Laþwendemod really a Compound? A Note on Genesis B , Line 448B


After his expulsion from heaven, Satan devotes a lengthy speech, beginning at line 356 of Genesis B, to bewailing the miserable state into which he and his fellow angels have fallen as a consequence of their rebellion against God. The speech ends abruptly with lare (line 441a), the last word on p. 22. Krapp and Dobbie note, ‘Probably two leaves, i.e., four pages, have been lost between p. 22 and p. 23, containing sections ix and x of the manuscript.’11 With regard to the contents of the lacuna between lines 441a and 442, Thorpe offers the following comment: ‘In the lost part of the poem it would seem that one of Satan’s angels had volunteered to undertake the commission to tempt Adam and Eve.’22 From line 442 onwards, Satan’s emissary’s activities are described as follows: Angan hine þa gyrwan godes andsaca,fus on frætwum, (hæfde fæcne hyge),hæleðhelm on heafod asette and þone full hearde geband,spenn mid spangum; wiste him spræca fela,wora worda. Wand him up þanon,hwearf him þurh þa helldora, (hæfde hyge strangne),leolc on lyfte laþwendemod,swang þæt fyr on twa feondes cræfte;wolde dearnunga drihtnes geongran,mid mandædum men beswican,forlædan and forlæran, þæt hie wurdon lað gode.Genesis, lines 442–452 The following translation of the quoted passage is on the whole acceptable: Then God’s foe began to prepare himself, ready in his trappings; he had a faithless heart. He sat on his head a helmet which made its wearer unseen, and bound it full tightly, fastened it with clasps. He knew many speeches of wicked words. He winged his way thence, passed through the doors of hell; by the fiend’s art the fire was cleft in two. He purposed to beguile God’s followers, men, secretly by evil deeds, to mislead and allure them, so that they should grow hateful to God.33 The last but one clause (‘He winged … in two.’) as the rendering of lines 446b–9 (Wand him up þanon … feondes cræfte) evidently skips three half-lines of the Old English text: (hæfde hyge strangne) (line 447b) ‘he had a stern mind’ is apparently used parenthetically, and in the following clause leolc on lyfte means ‘jumped up into the air’, but the half-line laþwendemod (448b) requires some discussion.[...]

Old English Hreðre Hygemeðe ( Beowulf , Line 2442A)


A dragon, enraged because his treasure has been plundered, violently attacks and devastates Beowulf’s kingdom. The ageing King, embarking on his fight with the dragon, muses about his youth when he was sent to his foster-father Hrethel. Herebeald, Hrethel’s eldest son, was killed accidentally by Haethcyn, Hrethel’s second son (lines 2435–2440): Þæt wæs feohleas gefeoht, fyrenum gesyngad,hreðre hygemeðe; sceolde hwæðre swa þeahæðeling unwrecen ealdres linnanBeowulf, lines 2441–244311 The quoted lines represent a poetic comment on the legal position that ‘Hrethel, the father of both, could not exact vengeance or pay and receive wergild’.22 Thorpe translates the three verse lines as follows: ‘that was a priceless fight, criminally perpetrated, heart-wearying to the soul: yet natheless must the prince unavenged lose his life’.33

Zombie: An Earlier Usage, Antedating the Oxford English Dictionary Entry


The Oxford English Dictionary dates the earliest recorded use of the term ‘zombie’ (noun, ‘In the West Indies and southern states of America, a soulless corpse said to have been revived by witchcraft; formerly, the name of a snake-deity in voodoo cults of or deriving from West Africa and Haiti’) to Robert Southey’s History of Brazil 1810–1819.11 It may be of interest to note, however, that an earlier appearance of the term can be found in The History of Okano: A Fragment of a Voyage to St. Domingo, a fragmentary piece published in 1788 in The Weekly Entertainer, as well as both the Edinburgh and European Magazines.22

Was John Dee ‘The Original 007’?


IT is widely reported that the mathematician, astrologer, and antiquary John Dee (1527–1609) signed his letters to Queen Elizabeth I with a special signature or cipher resembling the digits ‘007’, and that this inspired the writer Ian Fleming in the creation of the fictional spy James Bond.

A Source for Malvolio’s ‘Do Ye Make an Alehouse of My Lady’s House’ ( Twelfth Night II.iii.87–88)


IN the well-known kitchen scene of William Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night Malvolio makes a futile attempt to call Sir Toby and his fellows to order by reproaching them: My masters, are you mad or what are you? Have you no wit, manners nor honesty but to gabble like tinkers at this time of night? Do ye make an alehouse of my lady’s house that ye squeak out your coziers’ catches without any mitigation or remorse of voice? Is there no respect of place, persons nor time in you? (II.iii.85–90).11 Apparently, critics have not noticed in this passage a reference to any particular sources. Yet, I would like to suggest that Malvolio’s phrase ‘Do ye make an alehouse of my lady’s house’ is, in fact, an allusion to Jesus’ cleansing of the temple, which is recorded in Matthew 21:12–13, Mark 11:15–17, Luke 19:45–6, and John 2:13–16.22