Originally published in 1979, this two-volume modern spelling of George Chapman's The Conspiracy and Tragedy of Charles, Duke of Byron is split into two parts: a critical introduction and commentary, and the texts of the double-play, the Conspiracy (contained in Volume I) and the Tragedy (Volume II - not currently available). The Critical Introduction comprises five chapters treating the date, sources, scholarly tradition, interpretation, and unity of The Conspiracy and Tragedy of Byron.

Review: "Echoing Texts: George Chapman's Conspiracy and Tragedy of Charles Duke of Byron is an intertextual study, offering a close comparative exploration of the discourses behind Chapman's text and the text itself with a view to activating the interpretive potential of the intertextual links. Chapter 2 investigates the French chronicle material from Edward Grimeston's General Inventorie and how Chapman's departures from this material influence our reading. Chapters 3 and 4 look at the effects of the classical subtexts, above all transpositions from Homer's Iliad, Plutarch's Moralia and Seneca's Oedipus, but also Lucan's Pharsalia. Chapter 5 deals with the cultural and political negotiations in the double play, tracing references to the earl of Essex and his rebellion and allusions to topical issues of Stuart kingship." "The intertextual reading projects a problematization of the concept of the patriarchical monarch and the absolute state and a veiling of the representative of liberty and individual heroism in a nostalgic light. Together with the overlays of meaning caused by the classical texts, the changes in the chronicle material and the topical allusions register an ideological stance. Repressed, represented in sometimes devious ways, Chapman's version of near-contemporary history nevertheless makes a powerful statement about the relationship between ruler and ruled, pointing to problems of contemporary statecraft."--BOOK JACKET

The succession to the throne, Lisa Hopkins argues here, was a burning topic not only in the final years of Elizabeth but well into the 1630s, with continuing questions about how James's two kingdoms might be ruled after his death. Because the issue, with its attendant constitutional questions, was so politically sensitive, Hopkins contends that drama, with its riddled identities, oblique relationship to reality, and inherent blurring of the extent to which the situation it dramatizes is indicative or particular, offered a crucial forum for the discussion. Hopkins analyzes some of the ways in which the dramatic works of the time – by Marlowe, Shakespeare, Webster and Ford among others – reflect, negotiate and dream the issue of the succession to the throne.

History of boy actors in England during the Elizabethan Age.

In the early seventeenth century, the London stage often portrayed a ruler covertly spying on his subjects. Traditionally deemed 'Jacobean disguised ruler plays', these works include Shakespeare's Measure for Measure, Marston's The Malcontent and The Fawn, Middleton's The Phoenix, and Sharpham's The Fleer. Commonly dated to the arrival of James I, these plays are typically viewed as synchronic commentaries on the Jacobean regime. Kevin A. Quarmby demonstrates that the disguised ruler motif actually evolved in the 1580s. It emerged from medieval folklore and balladry, Tudor Chronicle history and European tragicomedy. Familiar on the Elizabethan stage, these incognito rulers initially offered light-hearted, romantic entertainment, only to suffer a sinister transformation as England awaited its ageing queen's demise. The disguised royal had become a dangerously voyeuristic political entity by the time James assumed the throne. Traditional critical perspectives also disregard contemporary theatrical competition. Market demands shaped the repertories. Rivalry among playing companies guaranteed the motif's ongoing vitality. The disguised ruler's presence in a play reassured audiences; it also facilitated a subversive exploration of contemporary social and political issues. Gradually, the disguised ruler's dramatic currency faded, but the figure remained vibrant as an object of parody until the playhouses closed in the 1640s.