Little is known of the life of Arthur Broke, or Brooke, except that he wrote Romeus and Juliet (1562) and the next year published a book entitled Agreement of Sundry Places of Scripture, seeming in shew to jarre, serving in stead of Commentaryes not only for these, but others lyke; a translation from the French. He died that same year (1563), and an Epitaph by George Turbervile (printed in a volume of his poems, 1567) "on the death of maister Arthur Brooke" informs us that he was "drowned in passing to Newhaven." So far as I am aware, no editor or commentator has referred to the singular prose introduction to the 1562 edition of Romeus and Juliet. It is clear from internal evidence that it was written by Brooke, and it is signed "Ar. Br."—the form in which his name also appears on the title-page; but its tone and spirit are strangely unlike those of the poem. We have seen (p. 25 above) that he refers to the perpetuation of "the memory of so perfect, sound, and so approved love" by the "stately tomb" of Romeo and Juliet, with "great store of cunning epitaphs in honour of their death;" but in the introduction he expresses a very different opinion of the lovers and finds a very different lesson in their fate. He says: "To this end (good Reader) is this tragical matter written, to describe unto thee a couple of unfortunate lovers, thralling themselves to unhonest desire, neglecting the authority and advice of parents and friends, conferring their principal counsels with drunken gossips and superstitious friars (the naturally fit instruments of unchastity), attempting all adventures of peril for the It is curious that there is not the slightest hint of all this anywhere in the poem; not a suggestion that the love of Romeo and Juliet is not natural and pure and honest; not a word of reproach for the course of Friar Laurence. Even the picture of the Nurse, with her vulgarity and unscrupulousness, is drawn with a kind of humour. I have quoted above (note on ii. 2. 142) what Brooke makes Juliet say to her lover in the balcony scene. In their first interview, she says:— "You are no more your owne (deare frend) then I am yours (My honor saved) prest tobay [to obey] your will while life endures. Lo here the lucky lot that sild [seldom] true lovers finde: Eche takes away the others hart, and leaves the owne behinde. A happy life is love if God graunt from above That hart with hart by even waight doo make exchaunge of love." And Romeo has just said:— "For I of God woulde crave, as pryse of paynes forpast, To serve, obey, and honor you so long as lyfe shall last." Of the Friar the poet says:— "This barefoote fryer gyrt with cord his grayish weede, For he of Frauncis order was, a fryer as I reede. Not as the most was he, a grosse unlearned foole: But doctor of divinitie proceeded he in schoole. * * * * * * * The bounty of the fryer and wisdom hath so woune The townes folks harts that welnigh all to fryer Lawrence ronne. To shrive them selfe the olde, the yong, the great and small: Of all he is beloved well and honord much of all. And for he did the rest in wisdome farre exceede The prince by him (his counsell cravde) was holpe at time of neede. Betwixt the Capilets and him great frendship grew: A secret and assured frend unto the Montegue." At the end of the tragic story the poet asks:— "But now what shall betyde of this gray-bearded syre? Of fryer Lawrence thus araynde, that good barefooted fryre? Because that many times he woorthely did serve The commen welth, and in his lyfe was never found to swerve, He was discharged quyte, and no marke of defame Did seeme to blot or touch at all the honor of his name. But of him selfe he went into an Hermitage, Two myles from Veron towne, where he in prayers past forth his age; Till that from earth to heaven his heavenly sprite dyd flye: Fyve yeres he lived an Hermite, and an Hermite dyd he dye." The puzzling prose preface to the poem is followed, in the original edition, by another in verse, similarly headed "To the Reader," from which we learn that Brooke had written other poems, which with this he compares to unlicked whelps—"nought els but lumpes of fleshe withouten heare" (hair)—but this poem, he says, is "the eldest of them" and his "youthfull woorke." He has decided to publish it, but "The rest (unlickt as yet) a whyle shall lurke" (that is, in manuscript)— "Till tyme give strength to meete and match in fight With slaunders whelpes." I suspect that after this poem was written he had become a Puritan,—or more rigid in his Puritanism,—but nevertheless lusted after literary fame and could not resist the temptation to publish the "youthfull woorke." But after writing the verse prologue it occurred to him—or some of his godly friends may have admonished him—that the character of the story and the manner in which The reader may be surprised that Brooke refers to having seen the story "on stage;" but the Puritans did not altogether disapprove of plays that had a moral purpose. It will be remembered that Stephen Gosson, in his Schoole of Abuse (1579), excepts a few plays from the sweeping condemnation of his "plesaunt invective against Poets, Pipers, Plaiers, Jesters, and such like caterpillers of a Commonwelth"—among them being "The Jew,... representing the greedinesse of worldly chusers, and the bloody minds of usurers," which may have anticipated Shakespeare in combining the stories of the caskets and the pound of flesh in The Merchant of Venice. That Brooke was a Puritan we may infer from the religious character of the only other book (mentioned above) which he is known to have published. His death the same year probably prevented his carrying out the intention of licking the rest of his poetical progeny into shape for print. |