REALISTIC COMEDY: THE SHOEMAKERS' HOLIDAY In the development of the drama through the mystery play and the morality it is possible to observe the gradual introduction of little realistic touches which foretell the coming liberation of the type from didacticism and allegory. In the English Nativity plays, for example, the shepherds with their homely dialogue are genuine products of the English soil, and in the Towneley cycle the extended episode of Mak and his sheep stealing is an excellent start in the direction of realistic comedy. It was natural that during the great age of the drama in the reign of Elizabeth the realism of everyday life should be prominently represented. The Shoemakers' Holiday was written by Thomas Dekker in 1599. Stories of shoemakers had appeared in book form the previous year (The Gentle Craft, by Thomas Deloney) and Dekker made his play from various elements in these tales. The love story of Lacy and Rose, which runs as a romantic thread through the play, is structually the central feature of the plot. But no one can doubt that the real interest of the drama centers in the character of Simon Eyre, the exuberant shoemaker, and his band of jolly workmen. They make this lively and boisterous comedy what it is. Their good fellowship and humor, the healthy pride they have in their craft, and their sense of loyalty to each other are responsible for most of the play's unusual charm. Thomas Dekker (c. 1570-c. 1641) was slightly younger than Shakespeare. Born and bred in London, he must have known well the artisan class portrayed in this play. He was the author of many plays, of which a dozen or more are extant. In addition, he was a prolific pamphleteer, writing numerous pieces of a fugitive character and temporary popularity. Most of his work was doubtless done under the urge of necessity and is characterized by an air of haste, but through nearly all of it there is a pervasive atmosphere of kindliness and good feeling that must have been part of the man. THOMAS DEKKER (1570?-1641?) THE SHOEMAKERS' HOLIDAY TO ALL GOOD FELLOWS, PROFESSORS OF THE GENTLE CRAFT, OF WHAT DEGREE SOEVER. KIND gentlemen and honest boon companions, I present you here with a merryconceited Comedy, called The Shoemakers' Holiday, acted by my Lord Admiral's Players this present Christmas before the Queen's most excellent Majesty, for the mirth and pleasant matter by Her Highness graciously accepted, being indeed no way offensive. The argument of the play I will set down in this Epistle: Sir Hugh Lacy, Earl of Lincoln, had a young gentleman of his own name, his near kinsman, that loved the Lord Mayor's daughter of London; to prevent and cross which love, the Earl caused his kinsman to be sent Colonel of a company into France: who resigned his place to another gentleman his friend, and came disguised like a Dutch shoemaker to the house of Simon Eyre in Tower Street, who served the Mayor and his household with shoes: the merriments that passed in Eyre's house, his coming to be Mayor of London, Lacy's getting his love, and other accidents, with two merry Threemen's-songs. Take all in good worth that is well intended, for nothing is purposed but mirth; mirth lengtheneth long life, which, with all other blessings, I heartily wish you. Farewell! THE PROLOGUE As it was pronounced before the Queen's Majesty. As wretches in a storm, expecting day, With trembling hands and eyes cast up to heaven, Make prayers the anchor of their conquered hopes, So we, dear goddess, wonder of all eyes, Your meanest vassals, through mistrust and fear To sink into the bottom of disgrace Dreading the bitter storms of your dislike. Since then, unhappy men, our hap is such, That to ourselves ourselves no help can bring, But needs must perish, if your saint-like ears, Locking the temple where all mercy sits, Refuse the tribute of our begging tongues: Oh grant, bright mirror of true chastity, From those life-breathing stars, your sunlike eyes, One gracious smile: for your celestial breath Must send us life, or sentence us to death. SCENE I: A Street in London (Enter the LORD MAYOR and the EARL OF LINCOLN) Lincoln. My lord mayor, you have sundry times Feasted myself and many courtiers more: you it then a shame, To join a Lacy with an Oateley's name? L. Mayor. Too mean is my poor girl for his high birth; Poor citizens must not with courtiers wed, Who will in silks and gay apparel spend More in one year than I am worth, by far: Therefore your honor need not doubt my girl. Lincoln. Take heed, my lord, advise you what you do! A verier unthrift lives not in the world, Than is my cousin; for I'll tell you what: 'Tis now almost a year since he requested To travel countries for experience; I furnished him with coin, bills of exchange, Letters of credit, men to wait on him, Well to respect him. But to see the end: Then seek, my lord, some honest citizen To wed your daughter to. L. Mayor. I thank your lordship. (Aside) Well, fox, I understand your subtilty. (To LINCOLN) As for your nephew, let your lordship's eye But watch his actions, and you need not fear, For I have sent my daughter far enough. And yet your cousin Rowland might do well, Now he hath learned an occupation; I thank his grace, he hath appointed him See where he comes! (Enter LOVELL, LACY, and ASKEW) Lovell, what news with you? Lovell. My lord of Lincoln, 'tis his highness' will, That presently your cousin ship for France 1 squandered |