What Shakespeare did not witness at first hand he doubtless heard discussed at great length by those who had. All the theatrical events we have discussed were staged with the clear intention of promoting their patrons and sponsors, of making an impact. Whatever attracted Shakespeare to the world of the theatre – the power of its language, the mystery of mimesis, the potential to travel away from provincial Warwickshire – there were some features of it that must have been apparent from his earliest years. Most particularly, professional acting – especially at its most accomplished levels – was closely associated with royalty and the aristocracy. It reflected Leicester’s magnificence that he could stage such shows for his Queen and her court, as well as patronize the most famous acting troupe of the 1570s (who presumably took some of the roles that required professionals at Kenilworth: see MacLean, 2002). In this association the actors straddled at least two worlds. On the one hand they were formally household retainers, lowly members of an intensely hierarchical unit, organized around the service of their lord – and his representatives whenever they toured in his livery. On the other hand they were entrepreneurs, seeking to make a living in a developing marketplace – though one contested by a number of different parties, notably the Crown (the Queen’s government); Parliament; their own aristocratic patrons; and local authorities, often in the form of their mayors and councils. The piecemeal suppression of the mystery plays shows that these parties did not always see eye‐to‐eye or work harmoniously together.
Much of Shakespeare’s early career was to be overshadowed by tensions between the Privy Council (the Queen’s leading ministers) and the City of London authorities over the control of the players. There is a classic demonstration of this in an incident involving James Burbage, builder of the Theatre and father of Shakespeare’s colleague, Richard. (It is described on p. 31.) The incident resolved itself into a confrontation between Burbage, standing on his dignity as a servant of Lord Hunsdon, a Privy Councilor, and William Fleetwood, the City’s most senior judge. The clash demonstrates the importance the players set by their lords’ patronage: Burbage thought he was untouchable as a member of a Privy Councilor’s household, and was somewhat abashed when Hunsdon himself lent support to Fleetwood. To their chagrin, the City had no authority over the Theatre and its neighbor playhouse, the Curtain (see pp. 83–4). But Fleetwood felt that the disturbance which led to the confrontation sufficiently affected the City (or could be represented as doing so) that it was necessary to take a stand. Hunsdon at least affected to take Fleetwood’s concern seriously enough to allow him to take Burbage to law. The Court and the City sparred endlessly, but always with at least a show of respect for each other’s authority.