The Holder of this blog uses no cookies and collects no data whatsoever. He is only a guest on the Blogger platform. He has made no agreements concerning third party data collection and is not provided the opportunity to know the data collection policies of any of the standard blogging applications associated with the host platform. For information regarding the data collection policies of Facebook applications used on this blog contact Facebook. For information about the practices regarding data collection on the part of the owner of the Blogger platform contact Google Blogger.

Wednesday, October 14, 2026

Introduction to Shakespeare's Family

This being the Introduction to the first of a series of Free Online Monographs, it will be a bit more at-large. The immediate subject is Shakespeare's Family. Edward de Vere being the author who went under the pen-name Shakespeare, there will be a great deal to say in this and all of the subjects of all the monographs.

William Shaksper, of Stratford-upon-Avon, will receive his own monograph, as is fitting given his historical role. The pen-name of the author of the plays, while sometimes written William Shake-speare, will generally be written without the hyphen, that sometimes appeared on the title pages of his works, for search engine reasons. When a quote contains the hyphen, it will be retained.

Documentary evidence of the remarkable correlation between the biography of Edward de Vere, the 17th Earl of Oxford, and key characters — generally, the central characters — of the plays of Shakespeare, will be cited in the end-notes to each section, including citations to my own numerous books and monographs. The reader is encouraged to check the citations him- or herself. She or he will discover that such evidence is plentiful. Much of it is available on the Internet.

I will not be including letters to, from or about Vere in the table-of-contents. To include them would make it ungainly. Instead, I will provide a single link to the Virtual Grub Street Edward de Vere Letters Index.1 When a specific letter is the source of information provided in a monograph, it will be cited individually in an end-note. It may also be quoted in excerpt. Personal letters from Edward's correspondents are rare. Only two personal letters from his wife, Anne Cecil, and another from one Thomas Vavasour from among all of his correspondents, would seem to have survived, though his own letters refer to numerous correspondents.2

Readers are welcome to comment on the individual sections of each monograph, or the monograph as a whole, so long as they become a member (unfortunately called “Follower”) of Virtual Grub Street and comment in a civil manner. Sections will also be linked from the Edward de Vere was Shake-speare Facebook Group and from the Bluesky social media accounts, Virtual Vanaprastha and Shakespeare Ink, where comments are also invited on the same basis by members.

Virtual Vanaprastha will only link to a selection of the monograph sections. It will also post links to interesting items of political and economic news, to my contemporary book and media reviews, and to my work in general literary history, philosophy, cultural anthropology and Information Theory.


II.


The history of Edward de Vere's family members is little known. More than a few are subjects of the Sonnets of Shake-speare.3 Edward married Anne Cecil, the daughter of his warder, William Cecil, in December of 1571. It was a grand affair even for a noble wedding. The most powerful commoner in England, Cecil had been raised to the baronage (Baron Burghley) immediately prior, as reward for being Queen Elizabeth's most trusted advisor, and in order that Anne should be of sufficient rank to marry an earl.

Edward refused to set up housekeeping with his wife in favor of continuing residence in chambers at the royal court as the queen's favorite. Elizabeth herself seems clearly to have preferred the arrangement as she glowered upon William Cecil's wife, Mildred, when she complained about it.

Husband and wife did spend enough nights together that Anne was pregnant in 1575. As she expected, for reasons not entirely clear, Edward declared that the child was not his. He returned from a year long trip to Italy to take up lodgings with a friend from which he frequently attended at court.

Edward brought back scented gloves as a gift for the queen. They immediately became the rage of fashion among noble women. His dancing already greatly impressed the queen and her ladies. His “sweet” sonnets had already passed among fellow courtiers for some years. His performance in tournaments was unmatched. He was the heart-throb of the court. The sonnets encouraging the queen to marry and produce an heir to the throne began around this time.

On the more substantial side, he had sent back a great many books from the booksellers of the Frankfort Fair and of Paris and Venice. His favorites were the French and Italian novellas. He was already fluent in French and Latin. His time in Italy went a long way toward fluency in Italian.

Edward became smitten with Anne Vavasour, a fiery lady-in-waiting to the queen. He would write her equally fiery sonnets that we now know as the Dark Lady Sonnets. In 1581, she would deliver their infant son.

Furious, the queen imprisoned Vavasour in The Tower. Realizing his danger, Edward went into hiding. Eventually, he negotiated a return with the agreement that he would be placed under house-arrest while his fate was being decided. His punishment consisted of a token stay in The Tower followed by exile from court until he would agree to set up housekeeping with his wife. Upon her release, Vavasour was also exiled from court. Her biography, from the point of becoming Edward's mistress, is also a remarkable one of boldness and historical importance. She was a feminist centuries before there was any such thing.

There are surviving letters in which his wife, Anne de Vere, pleaded with Vere to be taken back.4 There were clearly replies but all that would seem to have survived of them were the accompanying Shakespeare Sonnets #35 & 120.5 With their proper context restored, they inform us of a great deal. The two did finally establish a household, in 1583.



III.


This being an introduction, we jump to a few key facts as to how Edward de Vere's family was intimately involved in the publication of the Shakespeare First Folio. There is a great deal more family information that occurred before and after the Folio, and the table-of-contents to this monograph links to sections presenting this information.

William Herbert, the 3rd Earl of Pembroke, the brother of Vere's son-in-law, Philip, was the W.H. who collected the sonnets and to whom they were dedicated.6 He wrote a letter, as Chamberlain to King James I, forbidding any further publication of Shakespeare works,7 when an independent publisher had begun assembling a collection of his plays. Immediately thereafter work began on what we now know as the Shakespeare First Folio. A little more than a year later, the completed First Folio was dedicated to him and Philip.8

In earlier years, William Herbert had declared that he did not wish to marry. His parents and Edward de Vere's father-in-law, William Cecil, the Baron Burghley, contracted for him to marry Edward's daughter, Bridget, anyway. Edward wrote to Burghley that he was pleased with the arrangement. Herbert refused, however, saying that the financial terms of the contract were not sufficient.9

With these sample facts to begin to introduce the role of Edward de Vere's family in his life and Shakespeare's works, I invite you to explore the free monograph Shakespeare's Family as the mood strikes.



1English Renaissance Letters Index: Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford. https://gwponlinebibliography.blogspot.com/2020/12/english-renaissance-letters-index.html

2There may well be other letters to Vere yet to be cited. In particular, among the Lansdowne MSS. The search goes on.

3 SHAKE-SPEARES SONNETS. Neuer before Imprinted (1609).

4Ward, B. M. The Seventeenth Earl of Oxford (1928). 226-7. Citing Lansdowne MSS., 104. 63, 64. Ogburn, Carlton. The Mysterious William Shakespeare (no date, 1984). 649.

5Purdy, Gilbert Wesley. Edward De Vere was Shake-speare: at long last, the proof (Digital 2013, Paper 2017). 93, 136. https://www.amazon.com/Edward-Vere-was-Shake-speare-proof/dp/1543136257/

6The dedication was by the publisher as Vere himself had been dead for some 5 years.

7The injunction was against publishing any plays written for the King's Men company (formerly the Lord Chamberlain's Men) in order to avoid awkward questions.

8Purdy, Gilbert Wesley. Edward de Vere was Shake-speare: at long last the proof. Introduction. https://www.amazon.com/Edward-Vere-was-Shake-speare-proof/dp/1543136257/

9Purdy. Edward de Vere was Shake-speare, 242, 258. https://www.amazon.com/Edward-Vere-was-Shake-speare-proof/dp/1543136257/




Also at Virtual Grub Street:




Posted by at No comments:

Monday, October 05, 2026

The Will of Elizabeth Dowager Countess of Oxford, Proved 15 Feb. 1612 [O.S.].

St. Augustine Church, Hackney, 1797.
Among the most informative historical documents from any era are wills and testaments. The will of Elizabeth de Vere née Trentham, the second wife of Edward de Vere, the 17th Earl of Oxford, is no exception.

From it we learn that the countess was struggling to pay her bills. Likely, it is the reason she requests a small private funeral.

I joyfullie committ my bodie to the earth from whence it was taken desiringe to be buried in the Church of Hackney wthin the Countie of Middlesex, as neare unto the bodie of my said late deare and noble lorde and husband as maye bee and that to be done as privately and with as little pompe and ceremonie as possible may be.1

She did still have some personal wealth, as we learn in the body of the will, and she prefered to use it to honor outstanding debts and to give bequests.

We also learn that her husband had been buried in what she refers to as “the Church of Hackney,” and history knows as St. Augustine Church of Hackney, without a proper tomb.2 Church records show that he died June 24, 1604, and was buried on July 6 following. The one special expense she does direct is that they be buried in a proper tomb.

Onlie I will that there bee in the said Church erected for us a tombe fittinge our degree and of such chardge as shall seem good to myne Executors...3

It would seem to be clear that her husband, who had technically died intestate,4 was buried within the church chancel but without a formal tomb. This may also have been the case in order to leave the countess and their young son what resources were left of the earldom of Oxford.

The countess and her 11 year old son, Henry, the 18th Earl of Oxford, were left with some considerable property upon Edward's death, as royal gifts, patents, etc., were not attachable for debts of a decedent. For this reason, we learn to what most of the remaining gifts amounted. Foremost was possession of Hedingham Castle, the hereditary seat of the Earls of Oxford5:

I have devised leased graunted bargained and sould to the said Sr Edward Moore Frauncis Trentham and John Wright all that the great Parke of Hedingham ad Castrum aforesaide and certaine partes and parcells of the Castle Parke and the little Parke there as alsoe the Scite and precincte of the late Priorie there and all the landes Tenementes and hereditaments to the same late belonginge and appertagninge And alsoe the Rectorie or parsonage of Water Belchampe wthin the said Countie of Essex To have and to hold to the said Sr Edward Moore Frauncis Trentham and John Wright their Executors Administrators and Assignes from the feast of St. Michaell the Archangell nowe last past untill the full end and terme of Twentie yeares from thenceforth next ensuinge by and under certaine yearlie Rentes as in and by the saide severall deedes indented more fullie and plainelie maye appeare which saide severall deedes were soe by mee made in trust thereby to enable them to raise such sommes of money as should sufficientlie serve and suffice to dischardge and paye all my debtes and legacies and funerall expences as alsoe all such other paymentes and disbursementes6

The rents and other deeds, indentures, etc., had been awarded to Edward's daughters, as part of a deal to settle his debts to the crown, in order to support them after the death of Edward's first wife, Anne de Vere née Cecil.

Elizabeth, having a good head for economy, bought out the daughter's interest in 1609, such that Henry could have back his prime hereditary possession. But she had had to borrow considerable amounts, in the meantime, to keep up even a minimum of appearances and of a noble quality of life. She apparently had already signed the 20 year lease over the property and associated emoluments some five months before her death.

Upon her passing, Henry and his heirs would still be legally in possession, and would receive (presumably favorable) rents from the new leasees, but the payments from the tenants and the rights of usufruct, etc., would go to the leasees. After 20 years, Henry or his heirs would be free to lease again or to take full possession.

Edward de Vere's Ulysses & Agamemnon (1584)!

Henry would never recover full possession as he died in the Netherlands campaign of 1625. He was seriously overweight and suffered heat stroke during a battle on a hot day. He died some weeks later.7

Neither did his heirs inherit. As he had only married his second cousin, Lady Diana Cecil, a year-and-a-half before, much of which he spent serving the Netherlands campaign, he fathered no heirs, and, for all his mother's deft arrangements, the earldom and Hedingham passed to another branch of the Vere family.

Elizabeth's will also gives bequests to her servants.

Item I give to Margerie flower my wayting woeman my tawney satten gowne I give to Marie my chambermaid one other gowne at the discrečon of myne Executors I give to the said Margerie flower Xli [ten pounds] and to the said Marie my my (sic) chambermaid five poundes And to the said Margerie and Marie equallie to bee devided betweene them all my wearinge lynnen about my bodie I give to my Laundrie maide fortie shillinge [twenty shillings = 1 pound] To Katherine Three poundes To Gallantyne the Frenchman that serveth me five poundes To (sic) Thoroughgood five poundes To Thomas my Taylor dwelling wth mee five markes To Thomas my coachman five markes To John Bill my late servant five poundes8

We learn that even on an excruciatingly tight budget, a countess needed eight servants. The live-in tailor, however, might have been an extravagance.

Beyond clothing, amounts of money were bequeathed that might seem disappointingly small. Until we realize, that is, that a pound was worth some 300 times what it is worth today.

One other servants received a unique bequest:

Item I give unto my dombe man yearelie duringe his life (sic) powndes to be paide him by my Executors quarterlie at the foure most usuall feastes of the yeare by even and equall portions.9

This “dumb” (i.e. “silent”) man is thought, by Oxfordians, to have been William Shakspere of Stratford-upon-Avon. I have stayed away from the subject, all these years, until recently having come upon evidence that all but proves it to be the case. I expect to be announcing it in my upcoming book.



1Ward, B.R. The Mystery of “Mr. W. H.” (1923). 99-100.

2See my ““In this uncarued marble”: Shakespeare’s Tomb”. Virtual Grub Street, Oct. 31, 2021. https://gilbertwesleypurdy.blogspot.com/2021/10/in-this-uncarued-marble-shakespeares.html

3Ward, 100.

4Royal gifts in the possession of a nobleman were bequeathed by law and custom regardless of a will or lack thereof.

5See my “Hedingham Castle Fact Sheet with Virtual Tour Link.” Virtual Grub Street, Jan. 20, 2019. https://gilbertwesleypurdy.blogspot.com/2019/01/hedingham-castle-fact-sheet-with.html

6Ward, 104-5.

7See my [pending]

8Ward, 102-3.

9Ibid. 103.




Also at Virtual Grub Street:




Posted by at No comments:

Monday, September 28, 2026

From Shakespeare to AI: A Midsummer Night's Nightmare?

Studying Shakespeare likely isn't high on your to do list. And studying can mean any number of things. Study what? Sources? Prosody? All those strange words and stranger usages? Booor-iiiing!

I can almost read your thoughts. “Nope. It was his job as an author to be accessible to a reader some 450 years later. And he failed. I can't make heads nor tails of it. And don't even talk to me about his portrayal of women or role in colonialism.

Yadda, yadda, yadda, his plays have a lot of sex jokes in them. Yadda, yadda, yadda, he invented a lot of words and sayings we use today. Whatever. Besides, aren't you one of those nut-cases who believes that the Earl of Oxford actually wrote the works? Why in the world would I want to read anything you write about 30-something plays and 100-and-some poems 400 years past their best by date?”

If anyone is still reading, after these introductory paragraphs, you're my potential audience. Even if you agree with their sentiment.

I've spent years doing research of all kinds. I am indeed a nut-case for knowing the details of any subject that interests me. I do a lot of deep dive. One of those subjects is Shakespeare. In the spirit of my years as a Navy nuke and a computer-based production systems engineer, I apply strict rational analysis to all of my studies.

Deep dive, as it regards Shakespeare, does not mean chasing conspiracy theories or detecting hidden ciphers. In fact, it frequently doesn't mean researching the Authorship Question at all. From my perspective, to know something real about the works of Shakespeare is to know something important toward Authorship. Let the chips fall where they may.

All of this said, deep dive is time consuming and crushingly hard work. In the matter of language alone — and it must be admitted that language is everything — I have painstakingly gathered together scores of physical and above 100 digital facsimile dictionaries. Add half that many again, encyclopedias. Almost as many of other detail-oriented close cultural anthropology studies, of engineering studies, of period cookbooks, of government and guild records, etc.

Upon transitioning to my dream position of hermit, I could only add a few books a year on any of my subjects. Shakespeare related studies, of the necessary depth, were so hard to come by, at an affordable price, or to find on area library shelves, that I pretty much despaired of pursuing the many leads I'd uncovered.

But then matters got considerably better. Libraries began selling large quantities of books from their stacks and donations in order to replace them with CDs, DVDs and computer terminals. They did not sell the popular novels (for which I have no use), but, rather, all of the boring books that no one ever took out — the classics in every field. They were chunked on long tables and sold for pennies on the pound. Fabulous tomes of knowledge were donated to thrift shops and sold for 5-25¢ a volume.

Suddenly, my various studies looked like they could move forward in a meaningful way — Shakespeare among them. Still, I could only be disappointed with the limitations of my resources. I was making headway but constantly jotting memoranda to my future (somehow still better resourced) self.

Then Google started its book digitization project. The Project Gutenberg, it seems, had first come up with the concept some 30 years before. The Internet Archive followed. Millions of digitized books were rapidly becoming available, going back to the end of the 15th century.1 The Internet was suddenly a wonder. 

My years of sheltering-in, with more books than I could read in a lifetime, on every topic of interest, had begun. With a little bit of help from the inter-library loan system the t's were being crossed and the i's dotted. With a little more from Blogger and Amazon Kindle, and the occasional paper-and-ink and digital literary journal, it was finding a modest readership.

I will spare us a recitation of the detriments that come along with the Internet, as well as the benefits. The very fact that none of us can afford to do without it is one such detriment. But that is the subject of another essay.

The most immediately threatening (detriment? benefit?), is the advent of Artificial Intelligence. It promises to create disruption like nothing else the human race has experienced before.

At first, I refused to use its services. But then the most basic of its services that are available now — its use as a super-powerful search engine, that responds to and answers queries in everyday language — was too tempting to resist. I now use it regularly to verify and/or expand my understanding of a wide range of topics, to remind myself of exact dates, etc.

Shakespeare studies have long now sent me down the rabbit hole of western languages as they were written in the Middle Ages through the 17th century. It is a fascinating subject and truly a Shakespeare study. Whoever one might think he was, he clearly loved reading the Italian and French poetry and novellas of his day. As well as classical languages, he was well-read in Chaucer and Gower who wrote in middle English, Pierre de Ronsard who wrote in middle French. His strange, and much commented, depiction of the Greek heroes and the defeat of Troy, in the play Troilus and Cressida, prove to us that he had access and the ability to read Benoit Sainte-Maure's medieval french Roman de Troie (1160)2 — obscure even in his day. The even more obscure Latin Chronicle of John Whethamstede, Abbot of St. Albans, is the only known source for some key details in Henry VI. Shakespeare ransacked the libraries of the Royalty, the nobility, the monasteries and the universities of his day in search of plots for his plays.

Edward de Vere's Ulysses & Agamemnon (1584)!

Many of the cherished dictionaries I have mentioned above specialize in one or another of the period languages of his sources. But, when I come upon a particularly knotty passage, for all I value their knowledge, the time it takes to extract that knowledge is often a matter of simmering frustration. I now merely type an entry such as “middle french domter” to remind myself that this word I constantly forget means “to tame or domesticate”.

In my recent essay on the carnival at Fontainebleau, in 15643, the word “gaillarde,” repeated in works by Ronsard, clearly did not refer directly to the dance called the “galliard,” in english, but likely would tell me from what the name was derived. The AI query “middle french gaillarde” gave the result shown in the screen shot at the head to this essay: “lively, vigorous or brave”. My cherished Ancient French Dictionary was, for some reason, unaware of this definition but did offer:

GALER, galler, gualler, v., s'amuser, se réjouir, danser, faire la noce4

[to amuse onself, to enjoy oneself, to dance, to pass the night away]

On this occasion, AI's definition exactly fitted Ronsard's various uses in the works he wrote for the carnival. But the Ancient French Dictionary only covers through the 15th century. Ronsard wrote in the 16th. The contrast between the two may suggest the history and derivation of the name galliard.

At some point, I will return to research on the relation of Ronsard to Shakespeare or between the 1564 carnival and the play A Midsummer Night's Dream. Or perhaps between Whethamstede's Chronicle and the Henry VI plays. I am almost certain to save precious time by consulting AI about minor but nonetheless essential matters in ancient texts — and to consult my dictionaries when time allows or circumstance requires.

Has AI brought my guard down while it insidiously takes over the world? Perhaps I will ask it. I mean, it would tell me. Right?


Remember to “follow” this blog to receive notifications when new posts go up and to be able to comment on posts. The link is located in the upper righthand corner of the page.



1Manuscript collections were eventually digitized but access largely retracted.

2See my variorum edition of Ulysses and Agamemnon (1584). https://www.amazon.com/Ulysses-Agamemnon-Edward-William-Shakespeare-ebook/dp/B07JD7KM1T/ This is the play that was later expanded into Troilus and Cressida (1609) which first shows up in the famous Diary of Philip Henslowe, as Ulysses and Agamemnon, under the date of 1599.

3See my “Shakespeare and Catherine de Medici's Famous 1564 Carnival at Fontainebleau.” Virtual Grub Street, September, 23, 2026. https://gilbertwesleypurdy.blogspot.com/2026/09/shakespeare-and-catherine-de-medicis.html

4Dictionnaire L'Ancienne Langue Français et de Tous ses Dialectes du IX au XV Siècle (1885). IV.209.




Also at Virtual Grub Street:




Posted by at No comments:

Wednesday, September 23, 2026

Shakespeare and Catherine de Medici's Famous 1564 Carnival at Fontainebleau.

On the last day of January, in the year 1564, the Queen Mother, Catherine de Medici, and her 13 year old son, King Charles IX, departed Paris, to undertake a two year tour of his new kingdom. The season of Lent would soon be upon them so Catherine commissioned the official court poet, Pierre Ronsard, to arrange a grand month-plus-long carnaval at the favorite party-palace of the french nobility, Fontainebleau. It has since become one of history's most famous galas.

Although Charles was his own man now, and his mother no longer Regent, she still made most of the decisions. Including those related to the grand gala. She was so wise as to avoid any public display of her power for all she was at least equal to the king. The ambassadors of England, Thomas Smith and Nicholas Throckmorton, knew to start with the Queen Mother if they wanted an audience with her son.

Smith not only attended the festivities at Fontainebleau but signed the Treaty of Troyes, together with Charles, in the midst of them. He had been tutor to Edward de Vere, heir to the earldom of Oxford, some years before, during the reign of Queen Mary I. He and the young earl's eventual father-in-law, William Cecil, Baron Burghley, were close friends, as well, having risen together as young stars of Henry VIII's secretariat.

Back in England, Smith commissioned allegorical paintings for his country seat, at Hill Hall, similar to those at Fontainebleau. Robert Dudley, the Earl of Leicester, did so in great profusion for his Kenilworth entertainment of Queen Elizabeth I, in 1575. Numerous accounts of various aspects of the Fontainebleau event had been published (including one by the king's wine-steward) in the years immediately after. They were best sellers in terms of the time. Dudley was intent to compete with the famous fête in an effort to convince the queen to marry him.

Dudley may also have learned of the event first hand from Michel de Castelnau, Lord of Mauvissiere, who had attended in person. Castelnau was something of a special ambassador to England and visited many times. He did not become the resident ambassador until several months after Kenilworth, though. He had played perhaps the single most historical role in the French festivities — which we will come to in its proper place.

So then, Fontainebleau featured a massive pleasure garden, with a carved marble fountain, which would serve as portal to the magical world that had been prepared for the guests. Dudley finished a large in-progress garden with carved marble fountain at Kenilworth in time for the visit of his queen. Each celebration featured a man-made lake with temporary-construction enchanted castle in the midst. The forests around the grounds of each featured a resident hermit who recited poetry. Both celebrations included fireworks displays.

While Fontainebleau was simply far larger and more monumental than Kenilworth, and the tournaments more impressive, it was far more impressive still in that its plays and recitations, presented throughout the month, were written by Ronsard. His works are considered among the finest in all of French literature.

Also from the pen of this laureate, and ironically more famous still, is a play that he presented, the text of which has entirely disappeared. We are informed that it was a dramatized translation from Ariosto's Orlando Furioso — the single most celebrated poem of the time.

Kenilworth is thought to have influenced its times, in a signal way, by being remembered by the character Oberon in Shakespeare's A Midsummer Night's Dream.

My gentle Pucke come hither; thou remembrest

Since once I sat upon a promontory,

And heard a Meare-maide on a Dolphins backe,

Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath,

That the rude sea grew civill at her song,

And certaine starres shot madly from their Spheares,

To heare the Sea-maids musicke.1

There is certainly a strong resemblance to such witness accounts as survive of the festivities presented for Elizabeth.

Traditional scholars have imagined 11 year old William of Stratford traveling 14 miles to see the queen and her entertainments the memory of which he brought back to give magic to his most magical play. Oxfordians can take no comfort from such fantasizing, however, as the earl was off visiting Italy at the time and could not himself have witnessed the entertainments, either. Whoever wrote under the name of Shakespeare likely got his information from George Gascoigne's The Princely Pleasures at Kenilworth Castle,2 Robert Laneham's famous letter to his friend Humphrey Martin3 and from other reminiscences that did not find pen and ink.

One detail given by Oberon is not found in any description of the festivities at Kenilworth.

My gentle Pucke come hither; thou remembrest

Since once I sat upon a promontory,

The occasional guess has been made as to when the promontory scene occurred. It seems like it would have caught the attention of those who witnessed the event. But no account remains.

A promontory, it bears mentioning, or rock face of any kind constantly figured in the poetry of Ronsard. It was among his favorite poetical props. Due to the fact that Ronsard wrote nearly all of the entertainment for the fête at Fontainebleau, such rock faces could be found everywhere.

In the opening masque which welcomed the king to the entryway to the world of fable, the gate to the garden at the Orleans' house, his highness stood at the foot of a sheer rock-face.4 Rather than the Lady of the Lake riding a dolphin, a nymph was carried along the water toward the king, riding on a giant seashell, to bid him welcome — presumably a tip of the hat to Botticelli's Birth of Venus.

The nymph explained that the denizens of mythology, facing an increasingly hostile world, bereft of so good a king as he who now stood before them, they had melded into nature, some into the sea, some into the earth, some into caves and crevices. But now that so great a king was crowned, at last, they began, as the nymph spoke, to emerge from all sides. This was the theme of the first masque. Shakespeare may have imagined Oberon, emerging into the famous french scene, to sit looking down from atop the sheer rock-face.

While there is some amount of conjecture to this explanation of the line, there is no doubt that Ronsard was a favorite poet of Shakespeare. The Frenchman's influence is everywhere in his works. We have referred above to perhaps the best known instance. This may be another.

Ronsard wrote two plays for performance before the court at Fontainebleau. One, entitled Le Bergerie, was a play written to be acted by the noble members of the court themselves. The other was a dramatized translation from the most celebrated poem of the day: Ludovico Ariosto's Orlando Furioso. It was entitled La Belle Genièvre.

The text of The Belle Genievre has since been lost. What little is left to us is an epilogue, spoken before the court by the above mentioned Michel de Castelnau, Lord of Mauvissiere. One particular image has become more famous than any in the lavish Fontainebleau fête.

Le monde est le theatre et les hommes acteurs;

La Fortune, qui est maistresse de la Sceine,

Appreste les habits, et de la vie humaine5

This for the fact that, some 25 years later, it would be adapted by William Shakespeare.

                                All the world’s a stage,

And all the men and women merely players;

They have their exits and their entrances;

And one man in his time plays many parts,6


Remember to “follow” this blog to receive notifications when new posts go up and to be able to comment on posts. The link is located in the upper righthand corner of the page.

Edward de Vere's Ulysses & Agamemnon (1584)!


1A Midsummer Night's Dream, II.i.153-59.

2Gascoigne, George. The Princely Pleasures at Kenilworth Castle (1576). I have advanced substantial evidence, in my Shakespeare in 1573: Apprenticeship and Scandal (2021), that Edward de Vere was the poet who went under the moniker Si Fortunatus Infoelix in the anthology section of Gascoigne's An Hundreth Sundrie Flowers (1573). https://www.amazon.com/Shakespeare-1573-Apprenticeship-Authorship-Progress-ebook/dp/B096GSQV14

3Laneham, Robert. A LETTER: Whearin part of the Entertainment unto the Queen's Majesty at Killingworth Castle... (no date, 1576).

4Le Recueil des triumphes et magnificences qui ont estez faictes au logis de monseigneur le duc d’Orléans (1564). No page numbers. “...le Roy s'acheminant plus auant arriua pies d'un grand Rocher...”

5Blanchemain, M. Prosper. Oeuvres Complètes de P. De Ronsard (1860). IV.184.

6As You Like It, II.vii.




Also at Virtual Grub Street:




Posted by at No comments:
Subscribe to: Posts (Atom)