It is to be observed, however, that the early severities and arbitrary caprices to which the players were subjected, were not attributable solely to the action of the Masters of the Revels.  The Privy Council was constant in its interference with the affairs of the theatre.  A suspicion was for a long time rife that the dramatic representations of the sixteenth century touched upon matters of religion or points of doctrine, and oftentimes contained matters “tending to sedition and to the contempt of sundry good orders and laws.”  Proclamations were from time to time issued inhibiting the players and forbidding the representation of plays and interludes.  In 1551 even the actors attached to the households of noblemen were not allowed to perform without special leave from the Privy Council; and the authorities of Gray’s Inn, once famous for its dramatic representations, expressly ordered that there should be “no comedies called interludes in this house out of term time, but when the Feast of the Nativity of our Lord is solemnly observed.”  Upon the accession of Queen Mary, in 1553, dramatic representations, whether or not touching upon points of religious doctrine, appear to have been forbidden for a period of two years.  In 1556 the Star Chamber issued orders, addressed to the justices of the peace in every county in the kingdom, with instructions that they should be rigorously enforced, forbidding the representation of dramatic productions of all kinds.  Still, in Mary’s reign, certain miracle plays, designed to inculcate and enforce the tenets of the Roman Catholic religion, were now and then encouraged by the public authorities; and in 1557 the Queen sanctioned various sports and pageants of a dramatic kind, apparently for the entertainment of King Philip, then arrived from Flanders, and of the Russian ambassador, who had reached England a short time before.

The players had for a long while few temptations to resist authority, whether rightfully or wrongfully exercised.  Sufferance was the badge of their tribe.  They felt constrained to submit without question or repining, when loud-toned commands were addressed to them, dreading lest worse things should come about.  It was a sort of satisfaction to them, at last, to find themselves governed by so distinguished a personage as the Lord Chamberlain, or even by his inferior officer the Master of the Revels.  It was true that he might, as he often did, deal with them absurdly and severely; but even in this abuse of his power there was valuable recognition of their profession—­it became invested with a measure of lawfulness, otherwise often denied it by common opinion.  How it chanced that a member of the royal household ruled not only the dramatic representations of the court, but controlled arbitrarily enough, plays and players generally, no one appeared to know, or thought it worth while to inquire.  As Colley Cibber writes:  “Though in all the letters patent for acting plays, &c., since King Charles I.’s