“Dead shepherd, now I find your saw of might:
Whoever loved, that loved not at first sight?”
–Wm. Shakespeare, “As You Like It”
“His life he contemned, in comparison of liberty of speech.”–Thos. Nashe, poet & pamphleteer
On this day in 1593, “with a dagger of the value of 12 pence,” London playwright Christopher Marlowe, 29, was fatally stabbed through the socket of the right eye, at a boarding house in Detford Strand, a London suburb on the Thames River in sight of the Isle of Dogs.
Today, Marlowe is best known as a precursor of Shakespeare, born the same year as the Bard, & pioneer of the “mighty line” Shakespeare would make his signature: pentameter blank verse.
At the time of his death, however, Marlowe was far better known than Shakespeare. He stood as the leading contemporary English playwright, author of six scripts including three mega-hits: “Tamburlaine,” “Tamburlaine II,” & “Doctor Faustus.” He had composed at least one Top Forty lyric, “The Passionate Shepherd to His Love.” He was working currently on a verse mini-epic, “Hero & Leander”--which a colleague was to complete after Marlowe’s death.
In the famous lines of “As You Like It,” quoted above, Shakespeare gave a nod to Marlowe, his “dead shepherd,” referencing “Hero & Leander.” The Marlowe original:
“Where both deliberate, the love is slight:
Whoever loved, that loved not at first sight?”
The circumstances of Marlowe’s death have traditionally been assumed to consist of a tavern brawl over a drinks bill. (The film “Shakespeare in Love” also took this tack.)
Some more recent historians, however, have raised another possibility–in my view, the likelihood–of something else entirely: that Marlowe’s death in fact consisted of a summary execution by agents of Her Majesty’s Government (Elizabeth I).
Among other indicators, certainly his old college friend Thos. Nashe--quoted above--believed that Marlowe’s death was politically motivated.
The English government was just then going through one of its periodic convulsions of extreme fear, not to say hysteria, over secret enemies, foreign & internal. This claimed a number of known victims in the surrounding months.
Marlowe had been placed under arrest 10 days before the murder, released on his own recognizance but required to report to the Privy Council for interviewing on suspicion of heresy (the same thing as treason). There is no evidence, however, that any interview actually took place.
Present at the murder was Robert Poley, professional spy & provocateur with a bone-chilling past record. Wielding the dagger was Ingram Frizer, subsequently pardoned by the Queen herself.
After the murder, a strange silence. Almost the only writer to offer any public tribute to Marlowe for several years after his murder was Tom Nashe. The comment quoted above is from one brief reference in one edition of one Nashe pamphlet–deleted from the next printing.
Meanwhile, Her Majesty’s government put about statements against Marlowe that had been obtained, under torture, from two former associates.
And Puritan divines hastened to make of his death an object lesson in the Wrath of God. Heretic, atheist, sodomite, coiner, sorcerer, closet Catholic–those were some of the imputations.
The altercation in the tavern was reported to have been over “the recknynge.” In Elizabethan English, this can mean a bill. It can also mean a settlement of accounts in a larger sense, or a legal judgement.
What had Marlowe done to become the target of a summary execution? There are multiple possibilities, & not room here for a dissertation. Among other things, it is possible that he had been simply too outspoken in the wrong places at the wrong times–at a moment when politics required the sacrifice of another victim, so that someone might be seen by Her Majesty, or Her Majesty’s advisors, as taking action.
What had he said?
According to informant Richard Baines, Marlowe basically described Christianity as a bunch of flim-flam, taking roughly the same line as some atheists today. He also insulted various personalities of the Bible. Given that the church & state were the same entity, & there was no recognized right to free speech, this would have been treasonous.
Among other particulars, Marlowe reportedly claimed that Jesus & John (Evangelist) were bedfellows, & that “all those who loved not tobacco & boies were fooles.” (Ironically, a similar claim about Jesus & John was to be made before the Privy Council by the next monarch, James I, justifying his own relationship with George Villiers, Duke of Buckingham.)
In addition, Marlowe reportedly said “the New Testament was filthily written” & he could have made a better job of it himself.
Bearing in mind that Baines’s statement may have been extracted under torture, nevertheless this last, at least, has the ring of truth to me. It does not belong to the common stock of the free-thinking tradition. It is also exactly the sort of thing a proud young writer might say.
Was Marlowe gay, & would that have made him an enemy of the State? Quite likely yes to the first question, & perhaps, indirectly, to the second. While technically a hanging matter, homosexual behavior in this decade was rarely considered worth prosecuting. Unless–as perhaps here–in connection with treason, where sodomy could appear as an add-on to the treason charge.
Why would Her Majesty’s Government do away with the nation’s leading playwright in a hugger-mugger fashion, without any form of trial and without the usual hideous ritual of public execution?
I would suggest two possible reasons: first, we are talking about quite possibly the most eloquent speaker in all England–not only an extraordinary writer, but also a formidably witty individual, even able to make correct Latin verses extempore. Such a man would surely give a most effective defense, if allowed to speak for himself. Trials for treason were allowed to end in only one way. An effective defense, even behind closed doors in front of the Privy Council, could be embarrassing.
Second, we are talking about a writer whose work was so loved that a prosecution against him, let alone execution, might rouse up the London population to riot–especially the rowdy crowd of theatre-loving apprentices, with a demonstrated propensity to riot over perceived miscarriages of justice.
Much better to make away with the offender quietly, under color of a private quarrel?
In any case–for whatever reason–England lost its leading playwright tragically young–also, the only individual who, had he survived, might have given Will Shakespeare a run for his money.
What a shame.
Atque in perpetuum, frater, ave atque vale.
# # #
Notes: I’ve done a lot of reading over the past year on Shakespeare and his contemporaries. While there are huge differences obviously, some resonances between the 1590s and current affairs today include issues of freedom of religion, free speech, superstition versus reason, widespread terror of alleged secret plots both foreign and domestic, occurrence of urban protest riots, government practice of torture, pervasive domestic spying, use of agents provocateurs, possible summary executions including of citizens, serious economic problems including widespread debt, considerable downward mobility among the middle class, 1% and 99% split, and more.
Obviously, it’s impossible to do full justice to this subject in short compass. On Marlowe, some valuable biographies are by Park Honan, Charles Nichols, David S. Riggs. By Anthony Burgess, the novel A Dead Man In Deptford has great emotional power. Please forgive a lack of specific footnotes. Some of this is from memory and/or quick checks on Wikipedia. Errors are my own.
