From what we shall presently see, it would be unreasonable not to suppose, that by the year 1590 the Poet was well started in his dramatic career; and that the effect of his cunning labours was beginning even then to be felt by his senior fellows in that line.  Allowing him to have entered the theatre in 1586, when he was twenty-two years of age, he must have made good use of his time, and worked onwards with surprising speed, during those four years; though whether he got ahead more by his acting or his writing, we have no certain knowledge.  In tragic parts, none of the company could shine beside the younger Burbadge; while Greene, and still more Kempe, another of the band, left small chance of distinction in comic parts.  Aubrey, as before quoted, tells us that Shakespeare “was a handsome, well-shaped man,” which is no slight matter on the stage; and adds, “He did act exceedingly well.”  Rowe “could never meet with any further account of him this way, than that the top of his performance was the Ghost in his own Hamlet.”  But this part, to be fairly dealt with, requires an actor of no mean powers; and as Burbadge is known to have played the Prince, we may presume that “the Majesty of buried Denmark” would not be cast upon very inferior hands.  That the Poet was master of the theory of acting, and could tell, none better, how the thing ought to be done, is evident enough from Hamlet’s instructions to the players.  But it nowise follows that he could perform his own instructions.

Let us see now how matters stood some two years later.  One of the most popular and most profligate playwriters of that time was Robert Greene, who, having been reduced to beggary, and forsaken by his companions, died miserably at the house of a poor shoemaker, in September, 1592.  Shortly after he died, his Gratsworth of Wit was given to the public by Henry Chettle.  Near the close of this tract, Greene makes an address “to those gentlemen his quondam acquaintance, who spend their wits in making plays,” exhorting them to desist from such pursuits.  One of those “gentlemen” was Christopher Marlowe, distinguished alike for poetry, profligacy, and profanity; the others were Thomas Lodge and George Peele.  Greene here vents a deal of fury against the players, alleging that they have all been beholden to him, yet have now forsaken him; and from thence inferring that the three worthies whom he is exhorting will fare no better at their hands.  After which he goes on thus:  “Yes, trust them not; for there is an upstart crow beautified with our feathers, that, with his ‘tiger’s heart wrapt in a player’s hide,’ supposes he is as well able to bombast out a blank-verse as the best of you; and, being an absolute Johannes Fac-totum, is in his own conceit the only Shake-scene in a country.”