The image of the prison looms large in early modern literature. By the sixteenth century, the prison was as much a part of everyday life as the public theatre. Although scholars have recently focused on the prison as a cite of cultural production, the depictions of fictionalized prison have not received much attention. Early modern drama in particular frequently resorts to prison as the setting for political struggle, inviting further discourse on authority and its sources. In this thesis, I argue that the prison's liminality allows early modern playwrights to explore the nature of royal privilege. I analyze Marlowe's Edward II, Shakespeare's Richard II, Shakespeare's The Tempest, and Fletcher's The Island Princess through the cultural and historical lens of imprisonment, determining that the prison is a space where relations and power dynamics between the king and his subjects can be questioned and subsequently condemned, upheld, or transformed. / Master of Arts / Much like modern art and popular culture, sixteenth-century English drama comments on both everyday life and political climate of its time. One image that appears frequently in the works of Shakespeare and his contemporaries is the prison. In many plays, the prison appears as a crucial backdrop for political struggle. Setting the action within a prison allows the playwright to ask a series of questions regarding the nature of authority and privilege. In this thesis, I analyze Marlowe's Edward II, Shakespeare's Richard II, Shakespeare's The Tempest, and Fletcher's The Island Princess, focusing on the figure of the royal prisoner.

This study addresses the problem critics have faced in identifying contemporary perceptions of the barber, surgeon and barber-surgeon in early modernity by examining the literature, predominantly the drama, from the period. The name ‘barber-surgeon’ is not given formally to any character in extant early modern plays; only within the dialogue or during stage business is a character labelled the barber-surgeon. Barbers and surgeons are simultaneously separate and doubled-up characters. The differences and cross-pollinations between their practices play out across the literature and tell us not just about their cultural, civic and occupational histories but also about how we interpret patterns in language, onomastics, dramaturgy, materiality, acoustics and semiology. Accordingly, the argument in this study is structured thematically and focuses on the elements of performance, moving from discussions of names to discussions of settings and props, disguises, stage directions and semiotics, and from sound effects and music, to voices and rhetorical turns. In doing so, it questions what it means in early modernity to have a developed literary identity, or be deprived of one. The barber-surgeon is a trope in early modern literature because he has a tangible social impact and an historical meaning derived from his barbery and surgery roots, and consequently a richly allusive idiom which exerted attraction for audiences. But the figure of the barber-surgeon can also be a trope in investigating how representation works. An aesthetic of doubleness, which this study finds to be diversely constructed, prevails in barbers’, surgeons’ and barber-surgeons’ literary conception, and the barber-surgeon in the popular imagination is created from opposing cultural stereotypes. The literature from the period demonstrates why a guild union of barbers and surgeons was never harmonious: they are opposing dramaturgical as well as medical figures. This study has a wide-ranging literary corpus, including early modern play texts, ballads, pamphlets, guild records, dictionaries, inventories, medical treatises and archaeological material, and contributes to the critical endeavours of the medical humanities, cultural materialists, theatre historians and linguists.

This thesis argues that there is an enigma at the heart of Webster's The Duchess of Malfi; a disjunction between the critical history of the play and its reception in performance. Historical disquiet about the status of the play among academics and cultural commentators has not prevented its popularity with audiences. It has, however, affected some of the staging decisions made by theatre companies mounting productions. Allied to other practical factors, these have impacted significantly – and occasionally disastrously – upon performances. It is argued that Webster conceived the play as a meditation on degree and, in aiming to draw out the maximum relevance from the social satire, deliberately created the multi-faceted performative role of Bosola to work his audience in a complex and subversive manner. The role's purpose was determined in response to the structural discontinuity imposed upon the play by the physical realities of staging within the Blackfriars' auditorium. But Webster also needed an agent to serve the plot's development and, in creating the role he also invented a character, developed way beyond the material of his sources. This character proved as trapped as any other in the play by the consequences of his own moral choices. Hovering between role and character, Webster's creation remains liminally poised on ‘the dangerous edge of things.' Part One explores the contexts in which Webster created one of the most ambiguous figures in early modern drama - subverting stock malcontent, villain and revenger - and speculates on the importance of the actor, John Lowin in its genesis. It includes a subsequent performance history of the role. Part Two presents the detailed analysis of a range of professional performances from the past four decades, attempting to demonstrate how the meaning of the play has been altered by decisions made regarding the part of Bosola.