Born, in London, 1558 (?). At Christ’s Hospital, 1565–70 (?). Matriculated, Broadgates Hall, Oxford, March 1571; removed to Christ Church, 1574; Student, 1574–79; B.A., 12 June 1577; M.A., 6 July 1579. Married, 1580 (?). Became actor and dramatist. Notorious for dissipated life. Died, 1597 (?). Works: “The Araygnement of Paris” (anon.), 1584; “The Device of the Pageant borne before Woolston Dixie, Mayor” (anon.), 1585; “A Farewell … to Sir John Norris & Syr Walter Raleigh,” 1589; “An Eclogue Gratulatory,” 1589; “Polyhymnia,” 1590; “Descensus Astreæ,” 1591; “The Famous Chronicle of King Edward the first,” 1593; “The Honour of the Garter” (1593); “The Battell of Alcazar” (anon.), 1594; “The Old Wives’ Tale” (under initials: G. P.), 1595. Posthumous: “The Love of King David and Fair Bethsabe,” 1599; “Anglorum Feriæ” (priv. pdt.), 1830. Collected Works: ed. by A. Dyce (3 vols.), 1829–39; ed. by A. H. Bullen (2 vols.), 1888.

Personal

  And thou no lesse deseruing then the other two, in some things rarer, in nothing inferiour, driuen as myselfe, to extreame shifts, a little haue I to say to thee; and, were it not an idolatrous oath, I would sweare by sweet S. George thou art vnworthy better hap, sith thou dependest on so meane a stay. Base-minded men all three of you, if by my misery yee bee not warned; for vnto none of you, like me, sought those burs to cleaue; those puppits, I meane, that speake from our mouths, those anticks garnisht in our colours. Is it not strange that I to whome they all haue bin beholding, is it not like that you to whome they all haue bin beholding, shall, were yee in that case that I am now, be both of them at once forsaken?

  As Anacreon died by the pot: so George Peele, by the pox.

  A sad death for one who had sung “The Praise of Chastity.” Had Peele been faithful to his honest wife and borne in mind the words of his Œnone—

	“They that do change old love for new,
	Pray God they change for worse!”

the end might have been different. But he died a long time ago, and possibly Meres was misinformed. He lives as the author of a charming pastoral and some dainty lyrics.

Arraignment of Paris, 1584

  The Araygnement of Paris A Pastorall. Presented before the Queenes Maiestie, by the Children of her Chappell. Imprinted, at London by Henrie Marsh. Anno. 1584.

  I dare commend him to all that know him, as the chiefe supporter of pleasance nowe liuing, the Atlas of Poetrie, & primus verborum Artifex; whose first encrease, the “Arraignement of Paris,” might plead to your opinions, his pregnant dexteritie of wit, and manifold varietie of inuention; wherein (me iudice) hee goeth a step beyond all that write.

  Written in Lyly’s manner, it is, nevertheless, far superior to the best pieces of that author: for Peele possessed all the excellencies of Lyly, in an equal, if not a higher degree, without his faults. Thomas Nash, who flourished about 1588, calls him, with good reason, “primus verborum artifex.” An elegant diction, graceful expression, and an harmonious and flowing versification, are, in fact, his principal merits. On the other hand, in force and depth of thought, in vigour of language and finish of composition, he did not come up to his model, the famous Marlowe.

  Peele’s best work, “The Arraignment of Paris.”… The “Arraignment” is indeed a choice piece of work, quaint and fanciful as some old curiously-knotted garden pranked in all its summer-bravery. It should be read when one is in the mood for appreciating it. If we are seeking in poetry a “criticism of life” it would be idle to turn to the “Arraignment;” but at times when we would fain forget life’s perplexities, we shall find the pretty cadences of Peele’s pastoral as grateful as the plashing of fountains in the dog-days. A variety of metres is employed in the “Arraignment.” Rhymed lines of fourteen syllables (a pleasant measure, when properly handled, for pastoral subjects) and rhymed lines of ten syllables predominate; but there are passages, notably Paris’ oration before the Council of the Gods, which show that Peele wrote a more musical blank verse than had yet been written by any English poet.

Edward I., 1593

  The Famous Chronicle of king Edward the first, sirnamed Edward Longshankes, with his returne from the holy land. Also the life of Llevellen rebell in Wales. Lastly, the sinking of Queene Elinor, who sunck at Charingcrosse, and rose againe at Pottershith, now named Queenehith. London Printed by Abell Jeffes, and are to be solde by William Barley, at his shop in Gratious streete. 1593.

  The only part of “Edward the First” that has a fair claim to the epithet good is its opening, which relates to the arrival of the king from Palestine, and the reception of him by the queen mother. There is a degree of royalty and splendour about the air of this scene which leads us to expect more from the conclusion.

  This play, commonly known as “Longshanks,” was popular; and, after allowance for unusual mangling of the text under all the disadvantages of careless printing from a rough copy that, however obtained, was confused and inaccurate, we cannot think the play into a form that would have any artistic unity.

David and Bethsabe, 1598

  The Love of King David and Fair Bethsabe. With the Tragedie of Absalon. As it hath ben diuers plaied on the stage. Written by George Peele. London, Printed by Adam Islip. 1599.

  The play here presented to the reader, and founded on Scriptural History, abounds with the most masterly strokes of a fine genius; and a genuine spirit of poetry runs through the whole.

  His “David and Bethsabe” is the earliest fountain of pathos and harmony that can be traced in our dramatic poetry. His fancy is rich and his feeling tender, and his conceptions of dramatic character have no inconsiderable mixture of solid veracity and ideal beauty. There is no such sweetness of versification and imagery to be found in our blank verse anterior to Shakspeare. David’s character—the traits both of his guilt and sensibility—his passion for Bethsabe—his art in inflaming the military ambition of Urias, and his grief for Absalom, are delineated with no vulgar skill.

  Bethsabe, with her maid, bathing. She sings: and David sits above viewing her. There is more of the same stuff, but I suppose the reader has a surfeit; especially as this Canticle of David has never been suspected to contain any pious sense couched underneath it, whatever his son’s may. The kingly bower “seated in hearing of a hundred streams,” is the best of it.

  As for “David and Bethsabe,” it is crammed with beauties, and Lamb’s curiously faint praise of it has always been a puzzle to me. As Marlowe’s are the mightiest, so are Peele’s the softest lines in the drama before Shakespere; while the spirit and humour, which the author also had in plenty, save his work from the merely cloying sweetness of some contemporary writers.

  It has been highly praised by critics of distinction, but I confess that I do not care two straws for it…. The play is exasperatingly insipid,—a mess of cloying sugar-plums. As being the only Elizabethan play extant that deals with a purely scriptural subject, it has a certain interest of its own; but judged on its literary merits it is surely a failure.

  Peele’s best play is undoubtedly “David and Bethsabe,” but it is best only in the sense of containing his finest writing. As a drama it is neither better nor worse than the others—that is to say, it is perfectly worthless…. If that noble measure, which is to poetry what the organ is to music, owed its trumpet-stop to Marlowe, it may, we think, with equal truth be said to owe its flute-stop to Peele. The opening scene of “David and Bethsabe” is in mere mellifluousness equal to anything which has been produced in blank verse since.

General

	(?) There eke is Palin worthie of great praise,
	Albe he envie at my rustick quill.

  His comedies and tragedies, were often acted with great applause, and did endure reading with due commendation many years after their author’s death.

  We are told that his works not only succeeded very greatly in his life but that they were read with great pleasure after his death. He is said in particular to have been a good pastoral poet…. He seems to have derived his reputation more from having been the object of patronage to a nobleman, than to the muses, for his merry pranks … lifted him into a degree of public opinion, which his works do not by any means appear to bear out. In short his profligate manners and irregular life but little qualified him for a knowledge of that novelty indispensably necessary in the composition of real dramatic entertainment; and it is, therefore, though one of his plays has been ignorantly attributed to Shakespeare, that the licentious George Peele, like his imitators, Rochester and Killigrew, is little known but by his jests, “which,” an author says, “in literature may be compared to the tricks of a sharper in society, for they are false, specious and imposing.”

  From the specimens which we possess of his dramatic genius, the opinion of Greene will not readily meet with a modern assent; the pastoral and descriptive parts of his plays are the best, which are often clothed in sweet and flowing verse; but, as dramas, they are nerveless, passionless, and therefore ineffective in point of character.

  His genius was not bold and original, and he was wanting in the higher qualities of invention; but he had an elegance of fancy, a gracefulness of expression, and a melody of versification, which, in the earlier part of his career, was scarcely approached.

  The versification of Peele is much inferior to that of Marlowe; and, though sometimes poetical, he seems rarely dramatic.

  Those of Peele’s dramatic works which have come down to us afford evidence that he possessed great flexibility and rhetorical power, without much invention, with very little discrimination of character, and with that tendency to extravagance in the management of his incidents which exhibits small acquaintance with the higher principles of the dramatic art.

  The reader must not imagine that I consider Peele on a par with Marlowe as an improver of the English drama. I cannot but be aware that Marlowe had a far more powerful intellect than Peele, and a far deeper insight into the human heart: yet, though Peele was quite unequal to the production of dramas so full of terror and pity as “Faustus” and “Edward the Second,” it may not be too much to assert that his “David and Bethsabe” vies in tenderness and poetic beauty with any of the plays of his sublime associate.—The superiority of Peele to Greene is, I conceive, on the whole, unquestionable.

  I will, however, notice here the opinion generally received, that Marlowe’s talents were very far superior to those of either Greene or Peele—a judgment to which I cannot entirely assent, as far as Peele is concerned. Peele’s plays, it is true, lack some of Marlowe’s fire and fury; but they are also without much of his fustian. Peele’s characters are less strongly marked than Marlowe’s; but they are also less absurd and extravagant, and, in my opinion they are equally well discriminated, though that is little praise.

  Peele’s want of native refinement kept him from rising high; but many of his verses are tuneful, and some of his thoughts pure and chaste.

	Peele, from whose hand the sweet white locks of age
	Took the mild chaplet woven of honoured hours.

  The truth is that Peele exercised far less influence over the development of our Drama than either Lyly or Greene, not to mention Marlowe…. Peele’s “Old Wives’ Tale” deserves to be remembered because of its resemblance to “Comus.” If Milton borrowed the conception of his Masque from this rustic comedy, he undoubtedly performed the proverbial miracle of making a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.

  His miscellaneous poems show a man by no means given to low company or low thoughts, and one gifted with the truest poetic vein; while his dramas, besides exhibiting a greater command over blank verse than any of his predecessors and than any except Marlowe of his contemporaries can claim, are full of charming passages…. “Edward I.” and “The Battle of Alcazar,” but especially the latter, contain abundance of the hectoring rant which has been marked as one of the characteristics of the school, and which is half-excused by the sparks of valour which often break from its smoke and clatter. But Peele would undoubtedly stand higher, though he might not be so interesting a literary figure, if we had nothing of his save “The Arraignment of Paris and David and Bethsabe.”… As Marlowe’s are the mightiest, so are Peele’s the softest, lines in the drama before Shakspere.

  There were few poets of the Elizabethan age who could write blank verse, for non-dramatic purposes, with Peele’s fluency.

  The merits of Peele have been greatly over-rated. They were ridiculously over-rated by his contemporaries. They have been inexplicably over-rated by modern critics. Gifford classes him with Marlowe. Dyce ranks him above Greene. Campbell, in an often-quoted passage, pronounces his “David and Bethsabe” to be the “earliest fountain of pathos and harmony that can be traced in our dramatic literature,” and goes on to speak of the “solid veracity” and “ideal beauty” of his characters. The tradition, originating from Isaac Reed, that Milton borrowed the plot of “Comus” from “The Old Wives’ Tale,” has, we suspect, greatly contributed to this factitious reputation. The truth is that of Peele’s six plays there is not one which can be said to be meritorious as a drama, or to have contributed any new elements to dramatic composition.

  Peele is one of the most prominent figures among those of Shakespeare’s “predecessors” and earlier contemporaries. In his manipulation of his own language for metrical purposes he was skilful, and now and then wonderfully successful. His blank verse, usually fluent though monotonous, rises here and there to grandeur and force; and scattered through his plays and pastorals are more than one lyric of imperishable charm. His text is so largely corrupt as to make generalisations unsafe, but he seems hardly to have mastered the management of rhyme…. The growth of his powers had been stimulated by a university training, and his works abound in classical allusions; but he was not often markedly felicitous in his employment of them. He had, for better or worse, imbibed something, too, of the spirit of his Italian sources.

  He can scarcely be said to show the instinct of a true master, whether in plot, portraiture, or versification. But his versatility, his urbane and graceful treatment of his themes, his command of imagery and language, his freedom from the sensuous taint—all these combine to give him an honourable place among the lieutenants, not the leaders, of Elizabethan drama.

  Peele’s few lyrics, golden in cadence, that go on murmuring in the memory.

  A man less interesting in his life and character than Greene, but with a finer range of imagination, which gave an impulse of its own to the development of the drama…. His genius was the product of the love of pageantry and masquerade, a legacy of the allegorical tradition of the Middle Ages, which was deeply rooted in the taste of the English people under Elizabeth. He was a master of whatever was pictorial and external in theatrical art. As a dramatic rhetorician he was hardly, if at all, inferior to Marlowe; in wealth of poetic diction, warmth of fancy, and richness of invention, he perhaps excelled all his contemporaries whose names are usually coupled with his own. But in the higher creative powers he was deficient. His plays contain no character that rouses the affection; no imaginative situation that awakens the interest; no universal sentiment that touches the heart.