This edition of Anthony Munday's The first book of Primaleon of Greece (1595) includes an introduction, notes, glossary, and critical apparatus that will enable modern readers to enjoy and better appreciate Munday's translation of the Iberian romance already turned into Italian and French before reaching English readers. Munday translated François de Vernassal's L'Histoire de Primaleon de Grece continuant celle de Palmerin D'Olive (1550), out of which he produced two different titles devoted to Emperor Palmerin's sons, Palmendos and Primaleon. The present volume is especially devoted to the coming of age and tournament activity in Constantinople of the main protagonist, prince Primaleon, as well as to Prince Edward of England's adventures throughout European lands, and to their final encounter. These twenty-four chapters follow the previous thirty-two in Vernassal's edition, published by Munday in 1589 and already edited by Leticia Álvarez-Recio (The Honourable, Pleasant and rare Conceited Historie of Palmendos, 2022). It aims to allow those readers interested in romance or Renaissance culture to gain access to texts that have remained so far ignored, in spite of the popularity they once enjoyed.

Munday's translation is based on a Spanish original entitled Primaleon de Grecia I (Salamanca, 1512). This Spanish romance, the second book in the Palmerin cycle, soon became a best-seller in the Spanish market, with several editions published between 1512 and 1588. The work was also translated into many continental languages. Anthony Munday translated his Palmendos from the French version by Francois de Vernassal late in 1588. The Historie of Palmendos comprised the first thirty-two chapters of the French text and focused on the adventures of Palmendos on his journey to Constantinople. It was reprinted in 1653 and 1663 with slight alterations from the 1589 version. This is an original-spelling edition that produces a most reliable text, as close as possible to the author's original manuscript.

This in-depth study of the important but neglected writer Anthony Munday fills a long-standing gap in our knowledge and understanding of London and its culture in the early modern period. It will be of interest to historians, literary scholars and cultural geographers.

In this new study, Donna B. Hamilton offers a major revisionist reading of the works of Anthony Munday, one of the most prolific authors of his time, who wrote and translated in many genres, including polemical religious and political tracts, poetry, chivalric romances, history of Britain, history of London, drama, and city entertainments. Long dismissed as a hack who wrote only for money, Munday is here restored to his rightful position as an historical figure at the centre of many important political and cultural events in sixteenth- and seventeenth-century England. In Anthony Munday and the Catholics, 1560-1633, Hamilton reinterprets Munday as a writer who began his career writing on behalf of the Catholic cause and subsequently negotiated for several decades the difficult terrain of an ever-changing Catholic-Protestant cultural, religious, and political landscape. She argues that throughout his life and writing career Munday retained his Catholic sensibility and occasionally wrote dangerously on behalf of Catholics. Thus he serves as an excellent case study through which present-day scholars can come to a fuller understanding of how a person living in this turbulent time in English history - eschewing open resistance, exile or martyrdom - managed a long and prolific writing career at the centre of court, theatre, and city activities but in ways that reveal his commitment to Catholic political and religious ideology. Individual chapters in this book cover Munday's early writing, 1577-80; his writing about the trial and execution of Jesuit Edmund Campion; his writing for the stage, 1590-1602; his politically inflected translations of chivalric romance; and his writings for and about the city of London, 1604-33. Hamilton revisits and revalues the narratives told by earlier scholars about hack writers, the anti-theatrical tracts, the role of the Earl of Oxford as patron, the political-religious interests of Munday's plays, the implications of Mu

"This collection of original essays examines the publication and reception history of sixteenth-century Iberian books of chivalry in English translation and explores the impact of that literary corpus on Elizabethan culture as well as its connections with other contemporary genres such as native English fiction, chronicle, and epistolary writing. The essays focus mainly on Anthony Munday's work as the leading translator as well as the two main Spanish sixteenth-century cycles-Le., Amadis and Palmerin-from a variety of critical approaches, including cultural studies, book history and reception, material history, translation, post-colonial criticism, and early modern Qender studies."--

Early Modern Catholics, Royalists, and Cosmopolitans considers how the marginalized perspective of 16th-century English Catholic exiles and 17th-century English royalist exiles helped to generate a form of cosmopolitanism that was rooted in contemporary religious and national identities but also transcended those identities. Author Brian C. Lockey argues that English discourses of nationhood were in conversation with two opposing 'cosmopolitan' perspectives, one that sought to cultivate and sustain the emerging English nationalism and imperialism and another that challenged English nationhood from the perspective of those Englishmen who viewed the kingdom as one province within the larger transnational Christian commonwealth. Lockey illustrates how the latter cosmopolitan perspective, produced within two communities of exiled English subjects, separated in time by half a century, influenced fiction writers such as Sir Philip Sidney, Edmund Spenser, Anthony Munday, Sir John Harington, John Milton, and Aphra Behn. Ultimately, he shows that early modern cosmopolitans critiqued the emerging discourse of English nationhood from a traditional religious and political perspective, even as their writings eventually gave rise to later secular Enlightenment forms of cosmopolitanism.

“A book for anyone who loves Shakespeare . . . One of the most scandalous and potentially revolutionary theories about the authorship of these immortal works.” —Mark Rylance, First Artistic Director of Shakespeare’s Globe Theatre It is perhaps the greatest story never told: the truth behind the most enduring works of literature in the English language, perhaps in any language. Who was William Shakespeare? Critically acclaimed historian Charles Beauclerk has spent more than two decades researching the authorship question, and if the plays were discovered today, he argues, we would see them for what they are—shocking political works written by a court insider, someone with the monarch’s indulgence, shielded from repression in an unstable time of armada and reformation. But the author’s identity was quickly swept under the rug after his death. The official history—of an uneducated merchant writing in near obscurity, and of a virginal queen married to her country—dominated for centuries. Shakespeare’s Lost Kingdom delves deep into the conflicts and personalities of Elizabethan England, as well as the plays themselves, to tell the true story of the “Soul of the Age.” “Beauclerk’s learned, deep scholarship, compelling research, engaging style and convincing interpretation won me completely. He has made me view the whole Elizabethan world afresh. The plays glow with new life, exciting and real, infused with the soul of a man too long denied his inheritance.” —Sir Derek Jacobi

Through entries on 291 Italian books (451 editions) published in England during the reign of Queen Elizabeth I, covering the years 1558-1603, this catalogue represents a summary of current research and knowledge of diffusion of Italian culture on English literature in this period. It also provides a foundation for new work on Anglo-Italian relations in Elizabethan England. Mary Augusta Scott's 1916 Elizabethan Translations from the Italian forms the basis for the catalogue; Soko Tomita adds 59 new books and eliminates 23 of Scott's original entries. The information here is presented in a user-friendly and uncluttered manner, guided by Philip Gaskell's principles of bibliographical description; the volume includes bibliographical descriptions, tables, graphs, images, and two indices (general and title). In an attempt to restore each book to its original status, each entry is concerned not only with the physical book, but with the human elements guiding it through production: the relationship with the author, editor, translator, publisher, book-seller, and patron are all recounted as important players in the exploration of cultural significance. Renaissance Anglo-Italian relations were marked by both patriotism and xenophobia; this catalogue provides reliable and comprehensive information about books and publication as well as concrete evidence of what elements of Italian culture the English responded to and how Italian culture was acclimatized into Elizabethan England.

The greatest cultural mystery in the Western World is, "Who wrote the plays and sonnets published under the pen name of William Shakespeare?" For reasons of monarchial succession, greed and power, Robert Cecil, Queen Elizabeth's chief counselor, forced Edward de Vere, 17th Earl of Oxford, to use a pseudonym for his great works. De Vere chose the pen name William Shakespeare. Because of his similar name, Cecil selected Will Shakspere of Stratford-on-Avon as the fraudulent front man. Poor choice: Shakspere was uneducated, never owned a book, never traveled abroad, knew no foreign languages and could not read or write. Because of the tenacious grip of Conventional Wisdom, professors of English still believe Cecil's hoax 400 years later, clinging futilely to their Stratford Man despite abundant evidence against their illogical theory. Soul of the Age contains 28 high-quality articles by a remarkable new generation of authorship experts who clearly establish de Vere as Shakespeare and annihilate the illiterate Will Shakspere's candidacy. Hugh Trevor-Roper, Professor of History, Oxford University, 1962: "Armies of scholars, formidably equipped, have examined all the documents which could possibly contain at least a mention of his (Shakespeare's) name. One hundredth part of this labour applied to one of his insignificant contemporaries would be sufficient to produce a substantial biography. And yet the greatest of all Englishmen, after this tremendous inquisition, still remains so close a mystery that even his identity can still be doubted . . . "During his lifetime nobody claimed to know him. Not a single tribute was paid to him at his death. As far as the records go, he was uneducated, had no literary friends, possessed at his death no books, and could not write. It is true, six of his signatures have been found, all spelt differently; but they are so ill-formed that some graphologists suppose the hand to have been guided. Except for these signatures, no syllable of writing by Shakespeare [Shakspere] has been identified . . . Such is the best the historians can do. Clearly it is not enough. It may be the shell: it is not the man."

In Paper Monsters, Samuel Fallon charts the striking rise, at the turn to the seventeenth century, of a new species of textual being: the serial, semifictional persona. When Thomas Nashe introduced his charismatic alter ego Pierce Penilesse in a 1592 text, he described the figure as a "paper monster," not fashioned but "begotten" into something curiously like life. The next decade bore this description out, as Pierce took on a life of his own, inspiring other writers to insert him into their own works. And Pierce was hardly alone: such figures as the polemicist Martin Marprelate, the lovers Philisides and Astrophil, the shepherd-laureate Colin Clout, the prodigal wit Euphues, and, in an odd twist, the historical author Robert Greene all outgrew their fictional origins, moving from text to text and author to author, purporting to speak their own words, even surviving their creators' deaths, and installing themselves in the process as agents at large in the real world of writing, publication, and reception. In seeking to understand these "paper monsters" as a historically specific and rather short-lived phenomenon, Fallon looks to the rapid expansion of the London book trade in the years of their ascendancy. Personae were products of print, the medium that rendered them portable, free-floating figures. But they were also the central fictions of a burgeoning literary field: they embodied that field's negotiations between manuscript and print, and they forged a new form of public, textual selfhood. Sustained by the appropriative rewritings they inspired, personae came to seem like autonomous citizens of the literary public. Fallon argues that their status as collective fictions, passed among writers, publishers, and readers, positioned personae as the animating figures of what we have come to call "print culture."