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"To kindle an industrious desire": the poetry of work in Lord Mayors' shows.

This study seeks to explore how and why representations of motives to work changed in the poetic speeches for Lord Mayors' Shows. Almost every 29 October during the Renaissance, one of the liveries staged a civic pageant in the streets to celebrate a mayoral election in London. In preparation for this event, it hired playwrights to produce spectacular devices and poetic speeches for performance in front of thousands of spectators. (1) Previous criticism claims that these speeches were inaudible and irrelevant. But archival research reveals that the tradesmen who sponsored the shows commissioned speeches with specific requirements. For example, on 7 September 1611, the Goldsmiths generated a contract with Anthony Munday that specified which characters in their drama would have speeches: Munday had "to make fitt and apt speeches for expressing of the Shew, bothe for Lepston, ffarrington, the Kinges, the boyes, and all the rest." (2) First, what form and content did everyday people such as craftsmen consider "fitt and apt" for poetic speeches for a public, political event? Second, since many of the same playwrights were writing dramas for civic pageants and for the theaters, why did drama written for pageants develop in such contrasting ways, using a wide variety of forms, but predominantly preferring rhyme, while the theater favored blank verse? Finally, how can these speeches help us identify, in the words of Jonathan Gil Harris and Natasha Korda, the "changing relations of economic and ideological production"? (3)

Using New Economic Criticism and New Historical Formalism to focus on "the nexus between economic and quantitative language and the language of literature," (4) I argue that "fitt and apt" speeches in form and content were those expressed in a consciously "labored" verse, often spoken by laboring characters, using themes that emphasized serious industry. The first half of the paper charts the significance and progression of this labored form. I analyze contemporary records to illustrate the audibility of the speeches in spectators' experiences and the importance of the speeches in the liveries' practice of ordering and paying for them.

The second half of the paper examines the idea of labor in the content of the speeches. In particular, these speeches resulted from and shaped the cultural conception of motivations to work. Because of greater economic demand for laborers' work but the lack of an accompanying rise in wages, the liveries tried to increase the incentive of workers to work harder by advertising in the shows the payoffs of work. These motivations, however, varied over time and according to the economic group in the population addressed: those outside the livery, such as consumers; and those inside the livery at both ends of its hierarchy, such as its elite traders and Lord Mayor, and its laborers and apprentices. Early in the period, the shows of Thomas Nelson and Anthony Munday draw attention to labor as a cycle and aim their message at consumers, whose responsibility was to support the cycle in England to avoid national labor crises. Thomas Middleton's speeches embody the personal and community benefits of this cycle to the livery elite. As the depictions of work in the later shows of Thomas Dekker and John Taylor increasingly emulate the actual working experience of London laborers, they change from a notion of work as a repetitive process, a laboring circle of life, to a process with a particular end, namely social mobility. This transformation in the concept of work in the speeches from cyclical to linear deserves notice because it complicates our assumptions about compensation: not only do we realize that the motivation--and thus reward--for work varied for different members of society, but also that these rewards changed over time.

Scholars have ignored the poetry of civic pageants because early critics dismissed the speeches with the assumption that they took a secondary place to the visual spectacle and therefore would have been irrelevant and impossible to hear. In 1933, R. C. Bald commented that "Lavish display was the prime requisite in these processions; the speeches were an elegant decoration palatable to the City Fathers, but inaudible to most of the spectators." (5) Jean Robertson and D. J. Gordon likewise stressed the "predominantly visual appeal" of the pageants, alleging that the speeches "were for the most part inaudible. ... The crowds did not, of course, assemble to listen to poetry; they wanted to see the procession and the pageants" (MSC, xli-xlii). Later critics, such as Muriel Bradbrook, similarly concluded that with the festive sounds of the day from crowds, church bells, musicians, and fireworks, "any speeches made to the Lord Mayor must have been largely inaudible even to him." (6)

Contrary to critical belief, Londoners could have watched the spectacle and listened to pageant speeches simultaneously. Stephen Orgel reminds us that the Renaissance found no inherent opposition between the visual and verbal. (7) While we know from reports that crowd management was difficult--surely no one could have heard everything--in the 1550s, spectator Henry Machyn noted in his diary that the pageant of John the Baptist presented "goodly speches"; (8) similarly, in 1604, pageant-goer Gilbert Dugdale attended to "speeches to the King of that excellent eloquence and as while I live I commend." (9) How could Machyn and Dugdale have judged the quality of the speeches had they not understood them clearly? Bruce Smith insists that we should develop a "cultural poetics of listening": "we need to attend also to cultural differences in the construction of aural experience. The multiple cultures of early modern England may have shared with us the biological materiality of hearing, but their protocols of listening could be remarkably different from ours." (10) We need to perceive pageant speeches the way that contemporaries did.

Not only do we know that spectators heard through other sound effects during the speeches well enough to appreciate them, but also the sponsors of the pageants, the liveries, linked the speeches to the success of the shows; otherwise they would not have continued to pay for them. In fact, they thought about the shows as speeches. In the twelve archived payment listings for the commemorative books the liveries commissioned for each pageant, more than half delineate compensating the poet for the speeches. In fact, the speeches function as the starting point for each pageant. Livery account books supply evidence that the tradesmen ordered the physical design of the shows to fit the speeches. For example, on 6 October 1561, the artificer John Shutte contracts to make a pageant that responds to the poet's speeches, so Shutte receives them recorded in the accounts the same day. The Merchant Taylors agreed with Shutte "That he shall make for this company ageynst the feaste of S[imon] & Iude next a pageant accordyng to suche a patterne as shalbe Devised to answer the speches also here devised & deliuered to hym to be had" (MSC, 41, my italics).

While the liveries repeatedly affirm the necessity of "fitt and apt" speeches, the language in their records does not specify what they deemed "fitt and apt" A formal analysis of the speeches, however, does indicate what the liveries regarded as "fitt and apt." Figure 1 reveals that the total number of spoken lines in each pageant, after increasing in the Jacobean era (1605 and 1611) and again slightly at the end of the period (1628-39), averages 196 lines. Some spread occurs around the average: Thomas Middleton, for example, wrote both the longest complete pageant, The Triumphs of Truth (1613), with 481 lines, and the shortest, The Triumphs of Honor and Industry (1617), with 91 lines. But the most interesting feature depicted in figure 1 is the narrow distribution characterizing most of the values for the number of spoken lines per pageant; that is, neglecting the outliers in 1605, 1611, 1613, and 1617, this distribution ranges only from 100 to 262 lines, with 70 percent of all of the pageants containing more than 150 lines. This indicates that from 1585 to 1639, pageants conventionally incorporate a prominent and vital spoken component. Even as the physical processions grew after 1603 with the addition of ever more devices, or carried floats, the number of words in the speeches in each pageant does not diminish during the Renaissance as it did in the Restoration period. As we can see in figure 2, the number of speeches per pageant declines significantly from fifteen or sixteen in the first extant shows of George Peele and Thomas Nelson in the 1580s and 90s, to five or six in Thomas Heywood's pageants in the 1630s. Combined with the fairly constant total number of lines, this decline in the average number of speeches demonstrates that playwrights lengthened individual speeches. This conveys the speeches' importance.


The verses of the Lord Mayors' Shows vary not only in the number and length of the individual speeches, but the earliest verses also vary considerably in form from show to show and within a particular show, observable in table 1. (11) The Elizabethan Lord Mayors' Shows by George Peele from 1585 and 1591, (12) for example, largely contain six-line stanzas of alternating rhyme, such as ababcc, an all-purpose form George Puttenham calls a "sixaine," with some blank verse. No copies of the Lord Mayors' Shows verses exist between 1591 and Munday's 1605 show, but by this date, Munday distinguishes his shows by the number of different kinds and range of verse over his eight Lord Mayors' Shows, employing prose, blank verse, tetrameter, and particularly rhyme royal, used by no other pageant-writer before or after. (13)


After Munday's experiments in prose and loosening of the set verse forms, one might expect that pageant verse became more like stage verse. While by the 1560s Gorboduc had begun the movement in writing plays toward blank verse and by 1600 Shakespeare's prose and blank verse increase, the pageants' usage of them decreases in favor of rhyme, particularly iambic pentameter couplets. The shows of Dekker (1612) and Middleton (1613), who temporarily supplant Munday as the writer of the Lord Mayors' Shows, correspond to a significant shift to this form, as it becomes widespread throughout the pageants for the rest of the period before the civil war. (14) All of the other pageants of Dekker and Middleton rely on heroic couplets almost exclusively; no other form appears in the pageants of 1621, 1622, 1623, and 1626. John Webster's 1624 pageant and John Taylor's 1634 pageant both employ heroic couplets, as do all of Heywood's pageants (with the exception of one tetrameter speech in 1631). (15) Even Munday, who included many verse forms in his pageants, conforms by the end of his pageant career and begins writing heroic couplets. A crucial reason for this difference between pageants and theater drama verse is the debate about rhyme that occurred at the turn of the century. Pageant verse took one side of the trend toward rhyme, and stage verse took the other.

In 1602, Thomas Campion's essay "Classical Metres Suitable for English Poetry" calls for the abandonment of "the childish titillation of rhyming" in order to emulate the Greeks and Romans. (16) Campion writes a poem to illustrate the superiority of unrhymed verse, and in it he recommends blank verse instead of rhymed verse for pageants (in this case royal entries):
 Tell them that pity or perversely scorn
 Poor English poesy as the slave to rhyme,
 You are those lofty numbers that revive
 Triumphs of princes and stern tragedies. (17)

One year later, Samuel Daniel responds to Campion with a defense of rhyme as fitting for all occasions. Pageant-dramatists would prefer rhyme for several of the practical reasons that Daniel's argument mentions, especially relating to the functions of literature as entertainment and instruction because of rhymes ability to be a "delight to the ear and the hold of memory." (18) More important, Daniel repeatedly claims rhyme requires more work of the writer, and this work has artistic value: "All excellencies being sold us at the hard price of labour, it follows, where we bestow most thereof we buy the best success: and rhyme, being far more laborious than loose measures (whatsoever is objected) must needs, meeting with wit and industry, breed greater and worthier effects in our language. So that if our labours have wrought out a manumission from bondage, and that we go at liberty notwithstanding these ties, we are no longer the slaves of rhyme, but we make it a most excellent instrument to serve us." (19) Pageants eventually completely adopt rhyme because this labored form "serve[s]" or accentuates the labor discussed in the content.

"[F]itt and apt" speeches not only displayed a labored form, but also focused on labor in the content. David Bergeron asks, "What can we learn about the internal workings of London's guilds that can illuminate the negotiations that went on between the guild and the playwrights ...? What intramural struggles or disagreements find their way into the pageant events?" (20) Looking at the liveries' "internal workings" yields new understandings of the purposes of pageants and expands the set of intended audiences. For example, Sergei Lobanov-Rostovsky notes the divisions within the liveries: "the chartered companies through which the mayor and aldermen rose to power were by no means the unified political and economic entities that most literary treatments of the mayoralty pageants suggest." (21) Because several of the pageant-dramatists also belonged to the liveries, such as Munday to the Drapers, Webster to the Merchant-Taylors, and Taylor to the Watermen's Company, (22) by requirement they would have had to pay livery fees and attend meetings to hear announcements about the liveries several times a year, which would have given them a familiarity with livery inner politics. One of the functions of the civic pageant speeches was to solve a major problem the liveries were having with raising the output of work.

This need for more industry and a greater output of work from workers to meet rising demand resulted from an upsurge in London's population. (23) The liveries reacted to the increasing demand for items such as food and clothing, and thus labor, by trying to motivate their workers to produce more output. Today, we might assume that money functions as an incentive to work more. Renaissance workers, however, did not respond to the prospect of higher income by working more, as Peter Musgrave has explained: "The idea that it was even possible to work all the time is a modern rather than a pre-modern one." (24) B.A. Holderness contends that leisure was the preferred reward for work, not more income, in part because of consumers' lack of options.(25)

In addition, built into the livery system itself were restrictions on what the companies could offer as an incentive since they fixed the maximum wages that a worker could earn. (26) Holderness exposes the reasoning behind this: "The authorities set maximum wages because it was their intention to prevent job mobility and migration in search of better wages." (27) Instead of allowing workers to earn or seek higher wages than the maximum, the liveries believed that, according to L. A. Clarkson, "production was most readily increased by employing more hands or compelling the existing workforce to work harder." (28) Given that money did not motivate workers and that, regardless, wages could not increase, how could the liveries "compel the existing workforce to work harder," in other words, invent new incentives to work, in order to respond to this demand?

Other working conditions further complicated how the liveries could develop incentives for London's workforce to work harder: the majority of maximum wages already remained at only subsistence level or worse, (29) seasonal or irregular working conditions usually prevented reaching these maximum wages, (30) and the cost of food had risen twice as fast as wages. (31) Thus, people were already working harder than before, spending more time working just to keep up their standard of living. (32) In fact, more and more people could not maintain it because of sporadic adversity and fell into what Keith Wrightson has labeled "structural poverty": "a diminishing capacity to meet their households' needs. This produced a distinctive life-cycle for labouring people." (33)

While the realities of working in early modern London meant little job security and even a gradual decrease in one's standard of living, the content of pageant speeches promoted the idea of work as ongoing subsistence or a repeated pattern or process. In a 1622 show by Middleton, The Triumphs of Honor and Virtue, Honour holds a globe that he tells us stands for "all that's found /Within the labouring circle of man's days"; and he advises an unchanging course: "The right path you have took then, still proceed, / For 'tis continuance crowns each worthy deed." (34) An example from Thomas Nelson shows that this unchanging circle of labor involved not only workers in the liveries, but also consumers. Pageant speeches attempt to provoke a desire in consumers (inside and outside of the livery) to stimulate industry for the betterment of the country. Consumers can help workers work more by buying certain traditional products, retaining traditional habits, and thus staying on the traditional "path"

Nelson's 1590 Lord Mayor's Show for the Fishmongers' livery, The Device of the Pageant, opens with a speech in fourteeners by a man on a merman who urges the audience to eat more fish and keep the fasts required by custom. To ignore them is foreign to an English identity: "This shape so strange, shew they are strange, & do digres fro[m] reason / That shun in eating fish and flesh." (35) The speaker acknowledges that some people "keep the stablisht law" "And fish dais too," but these same days "many set at naught," "Which fault reformd, our co[m]mon wealth would florish" (10, 12, 12, 19). Not only would there be more food of all kinds, but also more people would have jobs: "And thousands set to worke for fish, that now beg for releefe" (16). This work will prevent Londoners from the loss of physical health as well as from the loss of economic strength, as we see later in the pageant in the dual-voiced verse of Science and Labour: "Labour toiles to bring vs flesh and fish" (116). And Science helps Labor: "that Labor might keepe England from decaie, / Science and Labour still preserues mans health, / and are chiefe props of this our common wealth" (118-20). Interestingly, Nelson's argument worked. Historian Ian Archer, using the research of Steve Rappaport, makes the case that the consumer's decision to start buying fish, a cheaper food source, may have improved the standard of living after the loss of real wages in the 1590S. (36)

Munday intensifies the link Nelson forged between labor in England and the choices of consumers, urging them to maintain industry in England by not succumbing to fashion. While the majority of workers had limited options and little unessential income, the market did offer some choice; and the relative desirability of items derived from cultural trends. Musgrave asserts that early modern consumption fluctuated more than we have assumed, influenced by people's strategic choices about what to consume. (37) Holderness concurs, explaining that even though the desire to buy exceeded purchasing power, "Demand was stimulated by the range of choice available and by the diffusion of ideas about comfort, prestige and fashion." (38) We find an example of this "diffusion of ideas" about fashion in Himatia-Poleos (1614); in it, Munday chooses a shepherd as a symbolic figure for the sponsors of the show, the Drapers. The shepherd's speech contains three different verse styles in four parts. The speech opens in prose: "Why gaze yee so upon me? am I not a man, flesh, bloud, and bone, as you are? Or in these silken sattin Townes, are poore plaine meaning Sheepheards woondred at, like Comets or blazing Starres?" (39) The poem that follows differentiates between "silken sattin" and the wool processed by the Drapers:
 From the Ramme
 we have the Lambe

 From both our finest
 woolies are shorne

 Wooll had thus from
 the Ramme and Lambe,

 Makes the best Cloath,
 that can be worne.

 Thanke then the Draper
 that began:

 To make such Cloathing,
 meete for man.


This simple twelve-line verse consists of three broken rhyming tetrameter couplets, but the broken lines allow Munday to generate internal rhymes emphasizing the relationships, aural and otherwise, among the ram, lamb, and man. The first twelve lines set up this imagined chain of being in emphatic declarative statements; the ram engenders the lamb, providing the Draper with the ability to clothe man. The phrase "meete for man" highlights the criticism embedded in the shepherd's oddity in these "silken sattin Townes" in which people do not dress in "meete" clothing because it does not derive from sheep. After this criticism comes one prose sentence of ifs and nos that takes us through the chain negatively: "For, if wee have no Ramme, wee are sure to have no Lambe: no Lambe, no Wooll: no wooll, no Cloth: no Cloth, no Draper" (229-30). The speech concludes with a four-line "prayer" of mixed alexandrine and pentameter lines:
 Heaven graunt that we may never see these noes,
 For we shall then feele twise as many woes:
 But that of Ram, Lambe, Wooll, Cloth, still we may have store:
 So shah the Drapers then thrive more and more.


Munday ends the chain here and above with the Draper, but the speech intimates that man will not thrive if the Draper does not: no Draper, no Man. While the pageant opens with Munday's image of endless fertility since he describes London as having a "continuall teeming wombe" (8), the shepherd's poem hints that rams potentially could stop producing lambs. The four shifts in verse style and tone taken together warn that more seriously, man may cease to wear wool. As with Nelson's call for consumers to buy fish to uphold England, Munday's poetic speeches convey the message to continue the cycle of labor in order to preserve not only England, but also oneself.

Like Nelson and Munday, who speak about the importance of their products to a consumer audience, contemporary commonwealth liveries, according to Jonathan Gil Harris, emphasized products through props in their mystery plays as representations of their skill: "mystery plays were not inductions into how to spin wool, make nails, or treat leather. What tended to be divulged was not the craft's processes of production, but its products." (40) Middleton's 1617 show thematizes labor, made explicit in the title, The Tryumphs of Honor and Industry;, but Middleton's speakers do not press consumers to purchase more spices from the Grocers. The message shifts from consumers to the elite traders in the audience. Theodore Leinwand has made the case for examining "the lives and mores of the merchants involved" and "the diverse ways in which a pageant addressed itself to the guild." (41) Robert G. Lang has found that successful livery members in the early modern period, namely Sir George Bowles, the new Lord Mayor of the Grocers honored in this show, were growing rich less from spice imports and more from general trade. (42) From London, Bowles sent other English cities items such as iron, paper, soap, wine, oil, prunes, ox bones, and wools. (43) Instead of products or even "processes of production," the pageant celebrates and promotes the cyclical process of motivation, characterized as a "labouring circle."

Middleton's speeches advertise the payoffs of the labor of good works as an incentive to the traders of the livery. Middleton portrays "Good Works,' an emblematic figure depicted by "a college, or hospital," (44) TM in order to demonstrate the relationship between reward and labor. F. J. Fisher argues," if contemporaries are to be believed, there was not always a close relationship between rewards obtained and services rendered, and some men achieved wealth without adding much to the public welfare." (45) The speeches in Middleton's device called "The Castle of Fame or Honour" illustrate this responsibility to the Lord Mayor, as its introduction describes "how many worthy sons of the City and of the same Society have, by their truth, desert, and Industry, come to the like honour before him" (302). The device invites liveried Grocers and the Lord Mayor in particular to observe former Grocer mayors "as an example and encouragement to all virtuous and industrious deservers in time to come" (302).

The dialogue that follows between Reward and Justice explains that reward in the form of honor comes as a consequence of work. In the allegory, Reward wants too quickly to compensate the new Lord Mayor and must wait a year because, according to the speech of Justice: "Great works of grace must be requir'd and done / Before the honour of this seat be won" (303). The types of works he must do concern "good government" (302), especially ensuring justice ("righting wrongs"), preventing slander, and looking after the "oppressed" (303-4). Ultimately, this message embraces all of those in the livery, not just the Lord Mayor. "Honour, Religion, Piety, Commiseration" represent the
 works of brightness able to refine
 All the beholders' minds, and strike new fire,
 To kindle an industrious desire
 To imitate their actions and their fame.


To stimulate wealthy traders to work harder, that is, "To kindle an industrious desire," past grocers from history whose acts benefited the community act as models for current grocers. These exemplars lead to harder work, which begets rewards in the form of honor, which inspires others to more industry, etc.--another laboring circle. Because of the line break after "industrious desire," this speech implies that an industrious desire is an impetus not only to emulate good works, but also to champion industry for its own sake.

In 1629, Dekker's London's Tempe builds a relationship between work and sound repetitions to aim his message at the new Lord Mayor; however, this pageant attempts to "kindle an industrious desire" in him not to imitate past Lord Mayors. This idea parallels one Francis Bacon had described three years earlier. In his New Atlantis, Bacon imagined experimenting with the ability to echo the human voice in places he called "Sound-Houses": "Wee haue also diuerse Strange and Artificiall Eccho's, Reflecting the Voice many times, and as it were Tossing it: And some that glue back the Voice Lowder then it came, some Shriller, and some Deeper; Yea some rendring the Voice, Differing in the Letters or Articulate Sound, from that they receyue," (46) Thomas Dekker's civic pageant made the city streets a spectacular "Sound-House" for his dramatic speeches. In particular,

Dekker echoes a poetic allusion, underscoring the message that cycles of family politics and recycled poetry do not have to repeat the same way. Dekker wrote London's Tempe for the Ironmongers, who celebrated the mayoral inauguration of James Cambell. In a scene in the show entitled "The Lemnian Forge," Dekker sets the world of the Ironmongers in the mythological frame of Vulcan's workshop; as they hammer iron on anvils, Vulcan and his Cyclopes sing a song. According to Cyrus Hoy, this song represents one of the best parts of this pageant: "Such life as the work contains resides in the jolly clatter of the smiths' song." (47) A close look at the verse helps us realize that the song is more than "jolly clatter." In contrast to most poetry in civic pageants, in which formal style dominates, this song embraces the vernacular in its verse. It repeatedly employs onomatopoeia, especially in the refrain:
 Yet Thwick a-Thwack,
 Thwick, Thwac a- Thwac- Thwac,
 Make our Brawny sinewes Crack,
 Then Pit a-pat-pat, pit a-pat-pat,
 Till thickest barres be beaten flat. (48)

The refrain imitates the noise of the hammers on the anvil, and the bodies of the workers mimic the sound of thunder: "Make our Brawny sinewes Crack." Meanwhile, the song supposedly occurs, the description tells us, with "Thunder and Lightning on occasion" so that the heavens echo the work the Cyclopes do for the heavens in the song, such as making studs for the stars (152). This sound effect does not function as a distraction from the song, but as aural punctuation. The thunder and lightning heighten the effects of the poetry as a kind of ornament fusing the visual, aural, and verbal experiences of the audience.

The vernacular operates here as a workers' echo of the exalted, a version of work in the shop that replicates the work of the Lord Mayor. In setting up the song, Dekker calls attention three times to the fact that the Ironmen sing while they work. This work, consequently, produces music and reminds us of its origins. Dekker writes, "As the Smiths are at worke, they sing in praise of Iron, the Anuile and Hammer. by the concordant stroakes and soundes of which, Tuballcayne became the first inuentor of Musicke" (152-55). The first stanza indeed resonates with praise for the "instruments" that produce "a smithes Best Chyme" (160): "Braue Iron! Braue Hammer! from your sound, / The Art of Musicke has her Ground" (157-58). The song recalls the emphasis on work found in the epistle dedicatory to the new mayor, James Cambell, but it also repeats in audible music the new mayor's inner tune. In his opening letter, Dekker praises Cambell's "Industr" and remarks," Yet there is a musicke in your owne bosome, whose strings being touchd yeilds as harmonious a sound to you, as All theis, And that is, to see your selfe heire to that Patrician Dignity with which your Father was Inuested" (17-20). James Cambell's father had served as Lord Mayor of London in 1609. Thus, Dekker suggests that music and harmony spring from the recognition of a repeated pattern, the ability for Cambell to see himself invested in this office like his father. Likewise, the audience's pleasure in this music arises from the aural or outward recognition of harmony (thunder echoing the thundering words of the song) and the inward recognition of harmony (the new Lord Mayor echoing the former Lord Mayor). This outward and inward recognition corresponds to George Puttenham's definition of the two sorts of ornament for poetry: "one to satisfy and delight the ear only by a goodly outward show set upon the matter ..., another by ... sense of such words and speeches inwardly working a stir to the mind." (49)

The idealization of the work of the livery and Lord Mayor sounds like typical civic pageant material, except that the central line in the song's refrain," Thwick a- Thwack" recurring a dozen times, reproduces a much lampooned line from Richard Stanyhurst's "Poetical Conceites" at the end of his 1582 translation of The Aeneid. (50) The line comes from book 8, just before the Cyclopes receive their order to make Aeneas's shield; they work in Vulcan's forge, combining hail, fire, and wind to form lightning bolts. The modern translation, according to Robert Fitzgerald, reads, "Now they were mixing in terrifying lightning, / Fracas, and fear, and anger in pursuit / With flares." (51) Stanyhurst translated these same lines as:
 Now doe they rayse gastly lyghtnings, now grisleye reboundings Of
 ruffe raffe roaring, mens hefts with terror agrysing. With peale
 meale ramping, with thwick thwack sturdelye thundring. Theyre labor
 hoat they follow: toe the flame fits gyreful awarding. (52)

Many of Stanyhurst's contemporaries criticized this poetry, especially its onomatopoeia. In The Garden of Eloquence (1577), Henry Peacham advised "Caution" against this figure, which could become "unseemely and ridiculous, if Art be neglected, and therefore these observations ought to be regarded. First, concerning the imitation of sound, that it be somewhat like to the thing it signifieth, and not unlike, as if one should call the sound of a Cannon a ratling or cracking." (53) In 1589, Thomas Nashe referred to the" Thwick a-Thwack" passage, denouncing just this lack of decorum: "Which strange language of the firmament neuer subject before to our common phrase, makes vs that are not vsed to terminate heauens moueings, in the accents of any voice, esteeme of their triobulare [two-bit] interpreter, as of some Thrasonical huffe snuffe." (54) In a word, men of letters saw "Thwick a-Thwack" as bombast.

Any inaugural show should have provided a formal tone in the celebration of the City's new Lord Mayor; so why then would Dekker incorporate lines from "perhaps the most irresistibly comic of all English Versions of The Aeneid"? (55) We cannot reason that Dekker did not know of the hullabaloo surrounding Stanyhurst because he had reiterated the reference, including some of Stanyhurst's other cruelties to the English language, in his 1622 play The Virgin Martyr. (56) Therefore, in 1629, Dekker parodies Stanyhurst consciously and intentionally. The verbal echo of Stanyhurst returns in an altered form with a playful meaning that relates to the political context.

In this case, the immediate political context is the repetition of a mayor from the Cambell family, Thomas Cambell, who, as it turns out, the City did not consider a popular figure. While most Lord Mayors went through four nominations before they won election to the Court of Aldermen, the prerequisite for the mayoralty, Thomas Cambell required nineteen. (57) Apparently, Cambell sometimes offended people personally, as in 1574 when the Ironmongers' livery fined him "'for unkind words." (58) Thus, perhaps as Dekker perceived the situation, the City did not want James Cambell to exactly replicate the work of his father, but rather, in the words of Bacon, to act as a "Straunge and Artificiall" echo. As Dekker's own show illustrates, a copy of something bad--an egregious translation, an unpopular mayor--can reverberate to produce a pleasant outcome--a "jolly" song or a beloved Lord Mayor. Dekker's 1629 pageant thus signals a shift from an image of work as a repetitive circle to one of a slightly different repetition pattern aimed at the Lord Mayor.

My last example, the 1634 pageant of John Taylor for the Clothworkers, The Triumphs of Fame and Honour, at first sounds similar to the pageants of Nelson and Dekker. Taylor argues, like Nelson, that Clothworkers aid employment: "By picking wooll, thousands releife doe gaine." (59) Like Dekker, Taylor portrays an image of a London workshop, in this instance, "with shops and men at worke upon cloth, as Cloth-workers, fullers, shermen, and others" (sig. A[7.sup.r]). In Taylor's show, however, the motivation to work completely changes. The worker no longer follows a repetitive or circular path, but one that, with hard work, leads to social transformation. The livery aims its new message at a previously neglected audience: apprentices. Even though they could not directly take part in the show since only liveried men could process, apprentices attended. The journal of spectator Lupold Von Wedel notes an open barge expressly for apprentices in the 1629 show: "A very large barge, painted black and white, was called the apprentices' barge." (60) This suggests that the liveries enabled the apprentices to have a better view--or a better hearing--of the show on the water, and they could have done so again in 1634. Berlin argues that ceremonies such as the Lord Mayor's Show "gave tangible expression of the exclusive nature of citizenship, reminding those privileged members of the body politic of their place in the hierarchy as well as those excluded from such formalities: women, non-freemen and apprentices." (61) Taylor's show, though, does not exclude apprentices; in fact, it encourages this "citizenship."

The new attention to apprentices emerges because even though the size of the liveries was growing overall, (62) liveries had difficulty retaining the apprentices who took oaths in London. Fewer than half completed their apprenticeship term and became free of their companies. (63) Apprentices comprised an important segment of the workforce because they consisted of approximately 15 percent of the London population in 1600. (64) Instead of wages, apprentices received the promise of an education as an incentive to work. According to Wrightson, "they were youths in their late teens or early twenties whose parents had bound them by formal indenture to masters who undertook to teach them a trade and to furnish them with 'meat, drink, apparel, lodging and all other necessaries.'" (65) Apprentices might have left because they lacked this promised education and support: "Company records provide numerous cases of apprentices complaining that they had not been provided with food and clothing, that they had not been instructed in the craft, and that they had been subjected to unlawful correction of often horrifying severity." (66) Furthermore, the alternative economic rewards that presented themselves to apprentices may have caused them to decide to leave for greener pastures: "apprentices had 'a reluctance to continue to work for their masters when they could use their skills to pursue their own ends,' and most left service before the end of their seven-year-minimum terms unless their masters could find inducements to keep them." (67)

How could the liveries shape an idea of the reward or "inducements" for work to apprentices when they did not collect wages and could potentially pursue them elsewhere? As a response to this problem, the liveries build into their speeches motives for apprentices to stay with their masters, namely social mobility. The promise of improved social status could rival economic incentives for early modern workers: "Economic success was not the only goal that early modern Europeans thought it worthwhile to pursue. Social status, for instance, could be just as important as economic prosperity." (68) Taylor capitalizes on this social motive in his show for the Clothworkers, who had particularly struggled with apprentice dissatisfaction. (69)

The speech of London in Taylor's second pageant device exemplifies how the speeches incorporate incentives to work based on social mobility. London claims its loyalty to God, king, and law:
 These are the meanes and instruments whereby
 We rise to Honour, painfull Industry.
 An Idle Citizen is like a Moth,
 One spoyles b'example t'oher spoyles the Cloth,
 True Citizens are the true Cities sonnes,

 Worke on my Lads, and you in time may be,
 Good members of this Honour'd Company,
 And though good Freeman (of this Corporation)

 Deceas'd before his halle yeares expiration,
 Yet Heaven hath soone provided for our good
 Another worthy of this Brother-hood.


Taylor specifies that in this speech, London "speaks ... to the Lord Mayor and company" (sig. A[7.sup.V]). The imperative to "Lads" however, specifically addresses apprentices who would like to belong to the company. The "moth" offers a convenient simile for the Clothworkers' apprentices; and on the surface, the speech points out the moth's negative function in society. Yet the moth signifies transformation and also literal consumption, a positive metamorphosis that conveys the social mobility this pageant wished to propose: "Lads" morph into "Good members of this Honour'd Company" The language, though, does not limit possibility only to good membership. An otherworldly transformation in this passage appears in the reference to the "Deceas'd" Ralph "Freeman." Freeman, the previous Lord Mayor from the Clothmakers, died earlier in the year in office (March 1634). Conveniently, the pun "Freeman" reminds apprentices that with industry, they too can become a "Freeman" of this company: a member of the Clothworkers and a man of honor who rose to Lord Mayor, then to heaven.

The third pageant device offers an even more extreme image of social transformation as an incentive to work, making the move from apprentice to Lord Mayor more explicit. For the first time, a civic pageant features an apprentice as a figure in the drama. This device, called the "Tower of Honour" contains a Lord Mayor, a Bishop, a Lawyer, and a Captain (sig. A[8.sup.r]). Each of these also has beneath him other civic figures with lower social standings attached to allegorical figures for the ideals Honor, Piety, Power, and Victory. Under a Lord Mayor sits an apprentice: "In the descent below the Lord Mayor is an apprentice, and by him stands obedience" (sig. A[8.sup.V]). The whole performance, Taylor argues, "shewes that by vertuous actions and true industry meane men have ascended and may be raised to Honourable places, which is an encouragement and paterne for others to pursue and follow those most worthy wayes to Honour and Renowne" (sig. A8V). The "encouragement and paterne" direct themselves particularly to apprentices, the lowest nonmembers of the company. The speech of Honor underscores the visual image by articulating an accessible path of social mobility through membership in the companies:
 And from th'apprentice seven yeares servitude
 Proceeds the grave gowne, and the Livery-Hood,
 Till (in the end) by merit, paines and care,
 They win the Grace to sit in Honours chaire.

 (sig. B[1.sup.r])

For a show so attentive to time, given both the speaking figure Time and its "meaning" (B[5.sup.V]) imparted at the end of the pamphlet, the compressed number of years from the apprenticeship to the livery is surprising. Likewise, the visual arrangement of the apprentice immediately below the Lord Mayor falsely insinuates that no obstacles or other "steps" come between the lowest and the highest. The apprentice, however, would have had to navigate several other company positions just to become a liveryman (such as a journeyman wage-earner, a shop owner, and an officer of the Court of Assistants). Through both the speech and staging, the Clothworkers' livery presents a myth about social mobility that few could actually attain. George Unwin explains: "The growth of wealth and the differentiation of classes within the Livery Company had added many steps to the ladder of promotion," (70) so that, according to Steve Rappaport, "in the sixteenth century social mobility was a long, slow process." (71) In actuality, a promise of the livery was mostly unattainable: "Many of those who undertook apprenticeships--the usual means of entry--did not succeed in establishing themselves independently, and among those who did subsequent business failure was common." (72) I argue that the liveries used pageant speeches as an opportunity to keep alive the possibility for this attainment of an elite position: livery leaders decided to offer "avenues for many to realise their ambitions, thereby perpetuating in turn the fiction of attainable goals for all." (73) Middleton's, Dekker's, and Taylor's ability to represent these different motivations in pageant speeches allowed the liveries to perpetuate myths about working conditions and social mobility as they tried to increase the output of workers across the livery hierarchy.

Studies that acknowledge civic pageants as having an important role in our understanding of drama, such as Frederick Kiefer's Shakespeare's Visual Theatre, still fail to conceive of them as anything more than a static art form to mine for information about the theater. Kiefer marvels that "A treasure trove of information is at hand in texts of civic pageants." (74) Looking at pageant form and content as dynamic allows for an appreciation of pageants' political and economic functions. Alan Liu argues that we cannot have a "fully satisfying historical explanation" of the early modern period without studying "action," namely, "transitions within material, demographic, and social masses with their attendant re-marshalling of practices, methods, and habits." (75) If scholars neglect the form and ideological content of pageant speeches and their "transitions," they risk an unhistorical understanding of this period.

The changes from one poetic form to another in the speeches did not happen randomly, but reflected contemporary discourses about good poetry and about the issue of work. The pageants retained rhyme because of the extra labor it required of the writer. No study has examined the various poetic forms of the speeches, (76) and none has studied archival material to investigate the specific input that livery members had in shaping them. This archival research confirms that contemporaries, both audience members and the livery creators, held a continuing interest in the speeches. In Renaissance Drama and Its Formal Engagements, Stephen Cohen argues that in critics' recent disregard for formal issues, we have lost the value that form held in Renaissance culture: "For at least some Renaissance thinkers and writers, an understanding of the formal features of literature ... enabled an understanding of its social efficacy." (77) Clearly, nonprofessional, everyday people such as audience members and livery members also valued and understood what was "fitt and apt" expression. Pageant speeches thus increase our awareness of who created Renaissance drama--not only playwrights, but also everyday people. The latter's requirements and expectations helped to form a dramatic voice distinct from the theaters.

If we do not investigate the changes in the content of the speeches, then we risk flattening the rewards and corresponding motivations to work harder to one group. For example, even though he cautions that we should not envision the Renaissance in the same economic terms as today, (78) William Ingram argues, "The fact is that sixteenth-century Londoners in great numbers were pushed by the profit motive into maximizing their incomes." (79) This comment dangerously projects Marxist concepts onto the premodern period, a problem Margreta de Grazia has elucidated, since in Renaissance studies, "the economic has ... been under pressure to look modern: to look like the beginning of capitalism." (80) The "profit motive" does not explain the motives of apprentices, who earned no wages. Through their appeals to multiple audiences, pageants call our attention to discrete roles in the economy and diverse workers: the consumers, the elite traders, the political worker (the Lord Mayor), and the apprentices, but also to their motivations by rewards distinct to their status. Rewards for work assumed complex material forms, as those who did depend solely on wages, about half of the workforce, (81) would have received not only cash, but also food, beer, lodging, (82) and someone else's service in the form of bartering. (83)

I have based this essay on Linda Woodbridge's premise that "money, commerce, and economics make a good deal of difference to English Renaissance literature." (84) Why people transformed their economic beliefs and behaviors, such as personal aspirations, is an important question for economic history, as F. J. Fisher has argued; (85) but this question matters to the study of pageants in particular. Aside from the actual rewards they received, workers had what Musgrave calls economic "strategies" influencing their choices about what to consume, how ambitiously to pursue their careers, and how hard to work, all of which "depend upon perceptions and expectations as much as they do on demonstrable facts." (86)

Xavier University


I am grateful to David Bergeron for "kindl[ing]" the initial research for this essay, the Xavier University Summer Fellowship for supporting it during composition, and the Comparative Drama editors for helping to refine the final version.

(1) Copies of these speeches survive in the form of thirty-one published pamphlets.

(2) Malone Society, Collections III: A Calendar of Dramatic Records in the Books of the Livery Companies of London, ed. Jean Robertson and D. J. Gordon (Oxford: Malone Society, 1954), 82; hereafter cited parenthetically as MSC followed by the page number.

(3) Jonathan Gil Harris and Natasha Korda, "Introduction: Towards a Materialist Account of Stage Properties;' in Staged Properties in Early Modern English Drama, ed. Jonathan Gil Harris and Natasha Korda (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2002), 17.

(4) Ivo Kamps, foreword to Money and the Age of Shakespeare: Essays in New Economic Criticism, ed. Linda Woodbridge (New York: Palgrave, 2003), vii.

(5) R. C. Bald, "Middleton's Civic Employments," Modern Philology 31 (1933): 75.

(6) Muriel Bradbrook, "The Politics of Pageantry: Social Implications in Jacobean London," in Poetry and Drama 1570-1700: Essays in Honour of Harold E Brooks, ed. Antony Coleman and Antony Hammond (London: Methuen, 1981), 61.

(7) Stephen Orgel, The Authentic Shakespeare and Other Problems of the Early Modern Stage (New York: Routledge, 2002), 51.

(8) The Diary of Henry Machyn, Citizen and Merchant-Taylor of London from A.D. 1550 to A.D. 1563, ed. John Gough Nichols (London, 1848), 48.

(9) Gilbert Dugdale, The Time Triumphant (London, 1604), sig. B2 v.

(10) Bruce R. Smith, The Acoustic World of Early Modern England: Attending to the O-Factor (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1999), 8.

(11) The variety of pageant verse followed a larger cultural project, advocated by Renaissance literary theorists, to make English more suitable for poetry dealing with serious content. As Glenn Spiegel argues, poets partly solved this problem with decorum by creating a greater variety of stanzaic forms. "Perfecting English Meter: Sixteenth-Century Criticism and Practice," Journal of English and Germanic Philology 79 (1980): 208.

(12) Descensus Astraeae, in The Life and Minor Works of George Peele, ed. David H. Horne (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1952), 214-19; The Device of the Pageant Borne Before Wolstan Dixi, in Life and Works, 209-13.

(13) Anthony Munday, Pageants and Entertainments of Anthony Munday: A Critical Edition, ed. David Bergeron (New York: Garland, 1985).

(14) Dekker and Middleton collaborated on the 1604 royal entry of King James, The Magnificent Entertainment. Thomas Dekker, The Magnificent Entertainment, in The Dramatic Works of Thomas Dekker, ed. Fredson Bowers, 4 vols. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1953-61), 2:253-303. With the exception of some prose contributed by other countries, its speeches contain only heroic couplets; Ben Jonson's Part of the King's Entertainment employs this same form. Ben Jonson, ed. C. H. Herford, Percy Simpson, and Evelyn Simpson, 11 vols. (Oxford: Clarendon, 1941), 7:69-109.

(15) John Webster, Monuments of Honor, in The Complete Works of John Webster, ed. F. L. Lucas, 4 vols. (New York: Gordian, 1966), 3:313-39; John Taylor, The Triumphs of Fame and Honour (London, 1634); Thomas Heywood, Thomas Heywood's Pageants: A Critical Edition, ed. David M. Bergeron (New York: Garland, 1986).

(16) Thomas Campion, "Classical Metres Suitable for English Poetry," in English Renaissance Literary Criticism, ed. Brian Vickers (Oxford: Clarendon, 1999), 432.

(17) Ibid., 436.

(18) Samuel Daniel, "A Defense of Rhyme," in English Renaissance Literary Criticism, 444.

(19) Ibid., 446; my italics.

(20) David M. Bergeron, English Civic Pageantry, 1558-1642, 2nd ed. (Tempe: Arizona State Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies, 2003), 13.

(21) Sergei Lobanov-Rostovsky, "The Triumphes of Golde: Economic Authority in the Jacobean Lord Mayor's Show," English Literary History 60 (1993): 889.

(22) Sheila Williams, "A Lord Mayor's Show by John Taylor, the Water Poet," Bulletin of the John Rylands Library 41 (1959): 529.

(23) L. A. Clarkson, The Pre-Industrial Economy in England, 1500-1750 (London: Batsford, 1971), 105.

(24) Peter Musgrave, The Early Modern European Economy (New York: St. Martin's, 1999), 65.

(25) B. A. Holderness, Pre-Industrial England: Economy and Society, 1500-1750 (London: Dent, 1976), 212.

(26) D. M. Palliser, The Age of Elizabeth: England under the Later Tudors, 1547-1603 (London: Longman, 1983), 240.

(27) Holderness, 195; his italics.

(28) Clarkson, 106.

(29) Holderness, 204.

(30) Ibid.

(31) D. C. Coleman, The Economy of England, 1450-1750 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1978), 23.

(32) Keith Wrightson, Earthly Necessities: Economic Lives in Early Modern Britain (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2000), 194.

(33) Ibid., 197.

(34) Thomas Middleton, The Triumphs of Honor and Virtue, in The Works of Thomas Middleton, ed. A. H. Bullen, 8 vols. (Boston, 1886), 7:366.

(35) Thomas Nelson, The Device of the Pageant, in "The London Lord Mayor's Show of 1590," ed. John Meagher, English Literary Renaissance 3 (1973): 97, lines 17-18; hereafter cited parenthetically by line number.

(36) Ian Archer, The Pursuit of Stability: Social Relations in Elizabethan London (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991), 12.

(37) Musgrave, 60-1.

(38) Holderness, 213,205.

(39) Anthony Munday, Himatia-Poleos, in Pageants and Entertainments, 77, lines 196-98. Hereafter cited parenthetically by line number with Munday's italics.

(40) Jonathan Gil Harris, "Properties of Skill: Product Placement in Early English Artisanal Drama," in Staged Properties, 43; Harris's italics.

(41) Theodore B. Leinwand, "London's Triumphing: The Jacobean Lord Mayor's Show," Clio 11 (1982): 139.

(42) Robert G. Lang, "London's Aldermen in Business: 1600-1625," Guildhall Miscellany 3 (1971): 243, 249. See also Wrightson, 181; William Herbert, The History of the Twelve Great Livery Companies of London, 2 vols., Reprints of Economic Classics (New York: Kelley, 1968), 2:308.

(43) Lang, 250.

(44) Thomas Middleton, The Tryumphs of Honour and Industry, in The Works of Thomas Middleton, 305. Hereafter cited parenthetically.

(45) F. J. Fisher, "Tawney's Century," in Essays in the Economic and Social History of Tudor and Stuart England m Honour of R. H. Tawney, ed. F. J. Fisher (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1961), 11.

(46) Smith, 49; Bacon's italics.

(47) Cyrus Hoy, Introductions, Notes, and Commentaries to Texts in "The Dramatic Works of Thomas Dekker," 4 vols. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1980), 4:47.

(48) Thomas Dekker, London's Tempe, in Dramatic Works, 4:106, lines 161-65. Hereafter cited parenthetically by line number with Dekker's italics. Note that Bowers separately lineates the epistle dedicatory.

(49) George Puttenham, The Art of English Poesie, in English Renaissance Literary Criticism, 224.

(50) Hoy, 3:223.

(51) Virgil, The Aeneid, trans. Robert Fitzgerald (New York: Vintage, 1990), lines 578-80.

(52) Virgil, Translation of the First Four Books of the Aeneis, trans. Richard Stanyhurst, ed. Edward Arber (Westminster, 1895), 138.

(53) Henry Peacham, The Garden of Eloquence, ed. William Crane (Gainesville, Fla.: Scholars' Fascimiles and Reprints, 1954), 15-16.

(54) Edward Arber, in Virgil, Translation, xviii.

(55) Ibid., xxiv.

(56) Hoy, 4:277.

(57) Frank Freeman Foster, The Politics of Stability: A Portrait of the Rulers in Elizabethan England (London: Royal Historical Society, 1977), 74.

(58) Ibid.

(59) Taylor, sig. B2 r. Hereafter cited parenthetically with Taylor's italics.

(60) Lupold Von Wedel, "Journey through England and Scotland Made by Lupold von Wedel in the Years 1584 and 1585," trans. Gottffied von Bulow, Transactions of the Royal Historical Society n.s. 9 (1895): 253.

(61) Michael Berlin, "Civic Ceremony in Early Modern London," Urban History Yearbook 13 (1986): 15.

(62) Archer, 114.

(63) Steve Rappaport, Worlds within Worlds: Structures of Life in Sixteenth-Century London (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1989), 311. See also Illana Krausman Ben-Amos, Adolescence and Youth in Early Modern England (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1994), 130.

(64) Richard Mackenney, Tradesmen and Traders: The World oF the Guilds in Venice and Europe, c. 1250-c. 1650 (London: Croom Helm, 1987), 120.

(65) Wrightson, 33. See also Ben-Amos, 110.

(66) Archer, 217.

(67) Charles Whitney, "'Usually in the werking Daies': Playgoing Journeymen, Apprentices, and Servants in Guild Records, 1582-92," Shakespeare Quarterly 50 (1999): 434. See also Ben-Amos, 214.

(68) Musgrave, 56.

(69) Archer, 217.

(70) George Unwin, The Gilds and Companies of London (London: Cass, 1966), 224.

(71) Rappaport, 362.

(72) Wrightson, 191.

(73) Rappaport, 386-87; his italics.

(74) Frederick Kiefer, Shakespeare's Visual Theatre (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003), 15.

(75) Alan Liu, "The Power of Formalism: The New Historicism," ELH 56 (1989): 735.

(76) Bergeron, 13.

(77) Stephen Cohen, "Between Form and Culture: New Historicism and the Promise of Historical Formalism," in Renaissance Literature and Its Formal Engagements, ed. Mark David Rasmussen (New York: Palgrave, 2002), 31.

(78) William Ingram, The Business of Playing: The Beginnings of the Adult Professional Theater in Elizabethan London (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 1992), 44.

(79) Ibid., 43.

(80) Margreta de Grazia, "Soliloquies and Wages in the Age of Emergent Consciousness;' Textual Practice 9 (1995): 81.

(81) Wrighton, 197.

(82) Holderness, 213.

(83) Musgrave, 267.

(84) Linda Woodbridge, introduction to Money and the Age of Shakespeare, 9.

(85) Fisher, 14.

(86) Musgrave, 57.
Table 1: Types of verse used in civic pageants

 Couplets Blank Verse Tetrameter

1585 Peele *
1590 Nelson *
1591 Peele * *
1605 Munday
1609 Munday
1611 Munday * *
1612 Dekker * *
1613 Middleton * * *
1614 Munday *
1615 Munday * *
1616 Munday *
1617 Middleton *
1618 Munday * *
1619 Middleton *
1620 Squire * *
1621 Middleton *
1622 Middleton *
1623 Middleton *
1624 Webster *
1626 Middleton *
1628 Dekker *
1629 Dekker *
1631 Heywood * *
1632 Heywood *
1633 Heywood *
1634 Taylor *
1635 Heywood *
1637 Heywood *
1638 Heywood *
1639 Heywood *

 Rhyme Royal Alexandrines Prose

1585 Peele
1590 Nelson
1591 Peele
1605 Munday *
1609 Munday *
1611 Munday * *
1612 Dekker
1613 Middleton *
1614 Munday * *
1615 Munday *
1616 Munday *
1617 Middleton *
1618 Munday
1619 Middleton
1620 Squire
1621 Middleton
1622 Middleton
1623 Middleton
1624 Webster
1626 Middleton
1628 Dekker *
1629 Dekker *
1631 Heywood
1632 Heywood
1633 Heywood
1634 Taylor
1635 Heywood
1637 Heywood
1638 Heywood
1639 Heywood

 Fourteeners Sixaines Cross-rhyme

1585 Peele * *
1590 Nelson * *
1591 Peele *
1605 Munday *
1609 Munday
1611 Munday
1612 Dekker
1613 Middleton *
1614 Munday *
1615 Munday
1616 Munday
1617 Middleton *
1618 Munday
1619 Middleton
1620 Squire *
1621 Middleton
1622 Middleton
1623 Middleton
1624 Webster
1626 Middleton
1628 Dekker
1629 Dekker *
1631 Heywood
1632 Heywood
1633 Heywood
1634 Taylor
1635 Heywood
1637 Heywood
1638 Heywood
1639 Heywood
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Author:Northway, Kara
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Article Type:Critical essay
Geographic Code:4EUUK
Date:Jun 22, 2007
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