In this study of Marlowe's plays A.D. Wraight shows
how he was influenced by Giordano Bruno and the Hermetic principle that man is potentially divine
through the power of his intellect. These ideas were antithetical to the Church of England during Marlowe's time
just as they were to the Catholic Church. The informer Richard Baines' charges of
Heresy brought against Marlowe only a few days before he "died" came at the
height of England's Inquisition.
Influences on Renaissance Free-Thinkers That Labeled Them Atheists
From A.D. Wraight's The Story That The Sonnets Tell
One of the greatest free-thinkers of the age was Giordano Bruno, whose influence on Marlowe was profound. This one time Dominican friar eluded the grasp of the Holy Roman Inquisition by traveling and lecturing in the countries where a more tolerant attitude prevailed under Protestant influence, but returning to Italy in 1592 he was arrested, imprisoned for eight years and finally burnt at the stake in 1600. At his trial before the Inquisition the witnesses called were his fellow prisoners, poor devils who testified that he had uttered scurrilous speeches concerning Jesus Christ, which are on a par with the blasphemies attributed to Marlowe in Baines’ Note. This ‘evidence’ sealed Bruno’s fate as one for burning.
Bronze relief of Giordano Bruno's trial by the Roman Inquisition,
Campo de' Fiori, Rome.
The inquisitorial denigration of this martyr to scientific thinking has been compounded by John Bossy in his book Giordano Bruno and the Embassy Affair (1991). Taking his cue from the testimonies of Bruno’s traducers in the modern trend to credit the evidence of the enemies of the free-thinkers, Bossy has presented this great, original thinker as a renegade priest who was besotted with an implacable hatred of Jesus Christ, much as Kocher presents Marlowe. This false premise is contradicted by the genuine religious opinions of Bruno reported by the Venetian nobleman, Giovanni Mocenigo, who knew Bruno.
‘The world, Mocenigo recorded him as saying, was a terrible state; Catholicism, though better than any other version of Christianity, needed a complete shake-up; if it was to survive it would have to renounce force and return to preaching the gospel.’
This is hardly an anti-Christian declaration, and it is the real Bruno speaking his mind to a friend. He is severely critical of the corruption of the Christian ecclesiastical authorities. Like most free-thinkers he was almost ecumenical in his views on religion, hating narrow, fanatical sectarianism, but certainly neither hating Christ nor Christianity. The obvious question that Bossy does not ask is: Why should an astute and brilliant philosopher like Bruno have been such a fool as to regale his fellow prisoners with opinions guaranteed to bring him to the stake? He omits to compare the testimonies of the pathetic prisoners, who doubtless had no choice in the matter, with Mocenigo’s statement, and the only writings of Bruno’s prolific output to which he pays attention is his Cena de le ceneri. In this Bossy interprets the wine-bibbing scene at the dinner party as a satirical commentary on the Eucharist, claiming that the unflattering picture of the assembled Oxford doctors dribbling into the wine-cup is intended as an anti-Christian lampoon. For this extraordinary assumption there is no evidence at all. Indeed the wine-bibbing scene is all of a piece with Bruno’s typical fastidiousness and misanthropic impatience with such specimens of humanity as he is depicting here. His writings expand on his idiosyncratic, unorthodox views on religion which are passionately and deeply felt; in his Cena these are laced with his fierce intellectual scorn for the bigoted know-alls with whom he came to dispute. It is not surprising that he was advised to expunge the scene from his publication, for it would have made him a host of enemies! But this had nothing to do with an attack on the celebration of the Eucharist with which Bossy imbues the scene in order to inject the fashionable ‘shocking’ element into his book. Whatever else he was, Bruno was a genius, and this does not come across in Bossy’s book which utterly misrepresents both his vision and his heroism.
As a renowned mystical philosopher and adept Renaissance magus, Bruno was warmly welcomed by the English intellectuals. He was invited to lecture and discuss his ideas with them at gatherings including Sir Philip Sidney, Sir Walter Raleigh, and Thomas Watson and his patron Sir Francis Walsingham, with many other distinguished Englishmen. Marlowe was then a nineteen-year-old student at Cambridge, but he doubtless read Bruno’s works, written during his year in England and dedicated to Sir Philip Sidney, which would have been in Walsingham’s library, if not also among Watson’s books and in the great library of the ‘Wizard Earl’ [Northumberland].
Bruno made a deep impression on the circle in London led by Sir Philip Sidney, until his untimely death three years later when Raleigh succeeded him as the head of an esoteric academy. Bruno was a dedicated religious magician, who practiced ‘good’ magic as taught by Hermes Trismegistus, the Thrice-great Messenger of the Gods of Egyptian origin, a personification of Thoth, who among his many facets was also the god of science, hence a cult grew up around this deity on the Renaissance. Bruno sought his aid in the discovery of divine and scientific truth.. This eccentric ex-Dominican monk astounded his listeners when he gave his inspired exposition of the innumerable worlds of the infinite universe, a concept which he had by sheer force of his intuitive imagination attained and grasped (although even four hundred years ago this idea was already ancient). For Bruno this was a religious truth. His vision of a God who was the creator of an infinite universe, whose ineffable purity, omnipotence and omniscience forbade the notion that his Almightiness could be contained in the body of an earthly man, would have dazzled Marlowe. The concept of God as pure Divinity is central to Bruno’s theology which also embraced the heady Hermetic principle of Man as potentially divine through the power of his intellect.
Bruno’s teaching envisaged a universal religious and moral reform, which his ardent spirit longed for. He detested the religious intolerance of the Protestant and Puritan zealots, as much as of the Catholics, and claimed they had destroyed the moral teaching of the ancient philosophers and especially of the old Egyptian religion which gave men moral laws by which to order their lives. He believed that the marvelous magical religion of the Egyptians would one day return, reforming the warring Christian sects, who were creating havoc and dissention in his world. This would eventually be controlled by the restitution of good moral law.
Bruno as a young man
The Nolan, as Bruno liked to call himself, was far from being an Atheist, but rather a deeply and passionately religious crusader whose religion was imbued with occultism. ‘The infinite universe and the innumerable worlds’, write Frances Yates in Giordano Bruno and the Hermetic Tradition, ‘are for him new revelations, intense accentuations of his overpowering sense of the divine. Or they are ways of figuring the unfigurable, of grasping and holding within, the infinite divine reality. For Bruno uses thought in a Hermetic way, a semi-magical way, as a mode of reaching intuitive knowledge of the divine.’
All this is a million miles away from the obscene anti-Christian blasphemies cited by Kocher as being Marlowe’s opinions, of which we find no trace in any of Marlowe’s works. But there are surely echoes of Bruno’s voice heard in Faustus’ passionate cry-
‘Tis magic, magic, that hath ravish’d me. (1.136)
Faustus, too, longs to possess all knowledge by means of magic, but his desire is sinful for he aims to obtain power for himself thereby. Faustus is partly based on a historical personage around whom legends had accrued, but some acquaintance with Bruno’s ideas probably fired Marlowe’s imagination to realize this masterpiece of his dramatic conception. In Prospero there is an even closer link with Bruno, for ‘this irritable magician’, as Frances Yates calls him, ‘regarded himself as a missionary of reconciliation’, and what is the theme of The Tempest but reconciliation? And what is Prospero but a kind of Renaissance magus?
Bruno spent one of the happiest years of his troubled life in London where he found the intellectual climate remarkably congenial under the benign rule of Elizabeth. In the early 1580’s the free-thinkers were fairly unmolested in their intellectual pursuits, and he found himself ‘understood in the innermost recesses of the Queen cult’, and became an ardent admirer of the great Elizabeth. He recorded his London experience in The Ash-Wednesday Supper which he partially fictionalizes, setting it in the house of Sir Philip Sidney’s great friend Fulke Greville (although it actually seems to have taken place at the house of the French Ambassador, de Mauvissiere), recounting in his inimitable mixture of humour, satire and didactic exposition his philosophical encounter with the ‘Aristotelian pedants’, the doctors who came there to dispute with him and heartily disapproved of the Nolan’s unorthodox ideas, which he expounded with great liveliness and originality, employing the imagery of mythological beasts and emblems to illuminate and impart his ideas.
Bruno was burned at the stake as a Heretic
Met with a blank wall of rejection, Bruno asks: How can such intolerant minds be brought to reason? ‘By weakening with argument their conviction that they know, and in a subtly persuasive manner drawing them away as much as possible from their bigotry’. Doubtless the learned pedants found him to be a ‘rather threateningly tolerant writer’, or speaker, as Yates calls him, for Bruno jarred with their assiduously cultivated intolerance to which they clung as to a protective cloak whose thick folds were gathered fearfully around themselves. They were non-plussed by this extraordinary man who grasped knowledge through mystic experience, which fuelled his astonishing, vivid imagination to burst into inspiration.
Bruno's monument stands at the very place he was executed,
Camp de' Fiori, Rome.
Had Marlowe ever heard him lecture he would have been transported by the Nolan’s inspirational poetic leap into infinity, in which he comes a traveler in the infinite reaches of the universe. Something of this is found in Marlowe’s early works, which had doubtless brushed off from his reading of Bruno. 'His concept of God as "a sphere of which the centre is everywhere and the circumference nowhere" is basic for Bruno, for whome the innumerable worlds are all divine centers of the unbounded universe.’ Compare this with Marlowe’s pulsating vision of a God who ‘never sleeps, Nor in one place is circumscriptible’ in the Second Part of Tamburlaine.
This concept, drawing its inspiration from Renaissance Hermetic philosophy in its Christianized form, is here associated with Christ as Godhead in a rich amalgam of religious sources. The Mohammedan King Orcanes rails fiercely against the perfidious Christian King Sigismund for breaking his sacred oath made in Christ’s name by attacking his depleted defenses whilst his main army is away fighting the enemy, the Scythian upstart, Tamburlaine. This episode is based on contemporary histories of Timurane, or Tamburlaine, and is not Marlowe’s invention, but he uses it to expose the hypocritical abuse of religion which he detested. This passage is of great value in shedding light on Marlowe’s thinking.
Orcanes. Can there be such deceit in Christians,
Or treason in the fleshly heart of man,
Whose shape is figure of the highest God?
Then, if there be a Christ, as Christians say,
But in their deeds deny him for their Christ,
If he be son to everlasting Jove,
And hath the power of his outstretched arm,
If he be jealous of his name and honour
As is our holy prophet Mahomet,
Take here these papers as our sacrifice
And witness of thy servant’s perjury!
(He tears to pieces the articles of peace)
Open, thou shining veil of Cynthia,
And make a passage from th’empyreal heaven
That he that sits on high and never sleeps,
Nor in one place is circumscriptible,
But everywhere fills every continent
With strange infusion of his sacred vigour,
May in his endless power and purity,
Behold and venge this traitor’s perjury!
Thou, Christ, that art esteem’d omnipotent,
If thou wilt prove thyself a perfect God,
Worthy the worship of all faithful hearts,
Be now reveng’d upon this traitor’s soul,
And make the power I have left behind
(Too little to defend our guiltless lives)
Sufficient to discomfit and confound
The trustless force of those false Christians!
To arms, my lords! On Christ still let us cry:
If there be Christ, we shall have victory.
Tamburlaine the Great, Part Two Act 2 scene 2 11.36-64
Orcane’s small force is victorious against the perfidious Sigismund, so Christ is vindicated by the Mohammedan prince! Marlowe’s presentation of men of other races and other religions who were reviled by the ‘reputable’ churchmen of Kocher’s thesis is imbued with the broad tolerance of his mind which is in striking contrast to the intolerance of the general Elizabethan attitude. This places Marlowe in direct opposition to such writers as the clerical author Du Plessis Mornay, whom Kocher commends as ‘surely one of the most temperate of men'. Here this ‘most temperate of men’ gives his opinion of Mohammed, the prophet of Allah, which we may compare with Marlowe’s above. In this one example Kocher’s false premise is revealed for the nonsense it is.
‘Whether he were a good man or no, let the people of Mecha (who woorshippe him at this day) judge, which condemned him to death for his Robberies and murthers. And he himself confesseth himself to bee a sinner, an Idolator, an adulterer, giuen to Lecherie, and subject to women.’
Du Plessis reflects the popular view of Mohammed, so that Marlowe, had he been of this mind, would have pandered to popular opinion in flinging mud at the Mohammedans, but never does he indulge in anything of the kind in any of his dramatic works. Quite the contrary, he is concerned to teach his audiences a broader, more tolerant view, and he does this consistently. It is therefore inconceivable that he would have indulged in the kind of blasphemous scurrilities against Christ that are presented by Baines as Marlowe’s ‘opinions’. Marlowe’s credo, like Bruno’s, like Raleigh’s, like Northumberland’s, was religious tolerance and freedom of thought – to question, to examine philosophical and religious concepts, to discover new scientific knowledge by inquiry and experiment. Marlowe spoke for himself and his compeers in his circle of English Renaissance intelligentsia when he wrote this splendid passage:
Nature, that fram’d us of four elements
Warring within our breasts for regiment,
Doth teach us all to have aspiring minds:
Our souls, whose faculties can comprehend
The wondrous architecture of the world,
And measure every wandering planet’s course,
Still climbing after knowledge infinite,
And always moving as the restless spheres,
Will us to wear ourselves, and never rest,
Until we reach the ripest fruit of all,
That perfect bliss and sole felicity,
The sweet fruition of an earthly crown.
Tamburlaine the Great, Part One Act 2 scene 7 11.18-29
Only the last line brings it back to Tamburlaine’s earthly ambition, the rest is pure intellectual aspiration expressing the essence of Renaissance man’s impulse to know and shake off the trammels of medieval strictures on his advance into the realm of science. Compare this with the Baines Note! What had been the real influences on the advanced-thinking Marlowe? This is the crucial question we are addressing, a question which is of even more importance in the light of this thesis which presents him as the pseudonymous Shakespeare.
Giordano Bruno was undoubtedly an important influence on this youthful genius. We also have to consider Marsilio Ficino, the great fifteenth century Florentine scholar, philosopher and theologian, whose writings carried the influence of Italian Renaissance Neoplatonism through Western Europe, and contributed vitally to the development of the lilterature and philosophical-religious thought in Renaissance England, and who had been a tremendous influence on Bruno. Both these men are totally ignored by Kocher.
Ficino’s most famous and influential book, Theologia Platonia de Immortalitae Animae, published in 1482, in which he expounded his synthesis of Platonism and Christianity, would certainly have been avidly read by Marlowe at Cambridge. This book has been described as ‘one of the greatest events in European literary history’, and his influence was largely instrumental in effecting the gradual change from Aritstotle to Plato. The debate was not yet concluded and in Marlowe’s day was still being hotly contended at Cambridge, where Gabriel Harvey became a protagonist in academic battles over Aristotelian principles for which he was accused of nonconformity. I believe that Bakeless is right in suspecting that the relationship between Dr Harvey, then a controversial figure among the Cambridge dons, and the youthful Marlowe were closer than we have as yet been able to discover. If so they would doubtless have discussed Ficino’s ideas together.
Ficino’s most important contribution to the theological-philosophical development of the Renaissance was the reconciliation he established of two distinct concepts, deriving from Thomas Aquinas and Dante, in which he substitutes the Christian God for the Platonic Idea of the Good and Beautiful – ‘the Neoplatonic mystical abstraction of the All as the god off the ladder of love; This is also present in Bruno’s complex philosophy. Ficino managed skillfully to evade accusations of heresy by always clothing his arguments in Biblical language, but when he finally published his essays, Liber de Vita, in 1489, in which he discussed his belief in astrology and necromancy (compare Bruno again) he was sailing dangerously near the wind! The stern displeasure of Rome was aroused, and Ficino only escaped its disastrous consequences y writing his Apologia, but this was not quite enough to mollify the papal ire. His fate might eventually have been that of Bruno but for the staunch loyalty of his powerful patron Lorenzo de’ Medici, whose admiration for his old tutor Ficino was unbounded. He wrote a little volume of eloquent testimonials defending him, and the papal rumblings finally subsided.
Ficino was fortunate from the first in having the munificent patronage of Cosimo de’ Medici, who obtained for him the texts of the Hermetic books for him to translate, all the Dialogues of Plato, and the Enneads of Plotinus. He also gave him a small estate at Careggio, and there Ficino gathered around him an esoteric circle of intellectuals who called themselves ‘The Careggian Academy’. On 7th November 1474 they held a symposium on the lines of Plato’s, which Ficino described in his second Commentary on the Symposium, an event which became famous and spread Ficino’s name far and wide as the alter Plato. Ficino did indeed model his entire life on Plato, even burning his early works as had Plato.
In Ficino’s Neoplatonic philosophy, aesthetics form an essential part, hence the influence his ideas exerted on Renaissance literature. So admired was Ficino by the Elizabethan poets that Edmund Spenser always kept his Commentary by him as his handbook, and its influence pervades the Faerie Queene. George Chapman’s ‘Hymnes’ in his poem The Shadow of Night are full of Ficinian influence. His writings brought the knowledge of Dionysius the Areopagite into the philosophical-literary culture of Elizabethan England, and Sir Philip Sidney’s ardent response is seen in the name he gave to his esoteric club ‘The Areopagus’ in the 1580’s, which was antecedent to Raleigh’s ‘School of Night’. These ‘little academies’ all probably took their inspiration from Ficino’s ‘Careggian Academy’. The tradition for such esoteric clubs had great appeal for Renaissance intellectuals and is delightfully parodies in Love’s Labour’s Lost, in which the “School of Night’ pokes fun at itself. It is impossible that this play could have been written by a rank outsider such as the common actor William Shakespeare, who could not have gained access to their closed circle to write this witty parody.
Ficino’s second patron, Lorenzo de’ Medici, established him as master of The Platonic Academy of Florence, where a flame was kept perpetually alight before the bust of Plato. Ficino was not only a great classical scholar but also a physician and priest, and his influence extended to the theologians of Elizabethan England as well as to poets, writers and the intellectual laymen. His brilliant, handsome and high-born pupil, Count Pico della Mirandola, became his disciple and carried on Ficino’s work after his death exerting also a notable influence. If we compare the writings of these men with Baines’ Note the contrast is so vast that the proverbial coach and horses could be driven through! It is not possible that the same mind could think in such a blatant contradiction, let alone ‘risk his life’ to spread the blasphemous ‘truth’ contained in the Baines Note.
For anyone who knows Marlowe’s works, there can be no doubt as to which of these sources provided him with his inspiration. Not Baines’ obscenities based on the clerical authors, but Ficino, Bruno, Castiglioni, Petrarch, Ovid, Virgil were among the inspirational influences informing his genius. In fact, Kocher himself, when he turns to analyzing the religious ideas expressed in Marlowe’s plays, Tamburlaine, Dr Faustus and The Jew of Malta, finds not an iota of evidence supporting Baines accusations. All he can cite is what he calls the ‘if’ clause in Tamburlaine: ‘if there be a Christ, as Christians say’ (quoted above) and ‘The God that sits in heaven, if any god, For he is God alone, and none but he’, (Tamburlaine Part Two, Act 5 scene 1, 1.1200). Kocher finds that the plays, in fact, present orthodox Christianity. We know from Bakeless’ definitive research on the sources used for Tamburlaine that Marlowe based the conflicts between Christian and Mohammedan forces in detail on his historical sources, as also his depiction of Tamburlaine’s cruelty and monstrous treatment of his vanquished foe, the Turkish emperor Bajazeth.
Marlowe’s chief inspiration for his dramatic works was history, which he adhered to faithfully, unless for valid artistic reasons, to recreate historical characters and their lives for his audiences. The historical Tamburlaine, or Timurlane, had assumed the role and title of ‘The Scourge of God’, giving himself the divine authority to conquer and ruthlessly punish his enemies. This is history which Marlowe dramatized. Tamburlaine was, in any case, not a Christian, and the ‘if’ clauses imply the pagan skepticism of pagan characters in the plays. Kocher himself admits: ‘the philosophy is eminently suitable to the Scythian conqueror and may therefore be a dramatic convention.’
Once Kocher turns his attention to the plays he shows a sensitive responsiveness to the wonderful poetry and dramatic art of Marlowe, and rises to the inspiration of his subject. in fairness to Kocher I give this final quotation from his thesis in which he is really contradicting his own premise regarding the Baines Note as an accurate rendition of Marlowe’s religious opinions. Here he is commenting on Tamburlaine:
‘What is most surprising, in view of the Baines note and other testimonies, is that Marlowe in writing like a Christian theologian should write so magnificently. There is no question but that it is magnificent. And so we arrive at the realization that however bitterly Marlowe may have hated Christian dogma there were some elements in it, notably its teaching about God, which could enlist the highest fervor of his imagination. This truth should warn us not to over simplify the problem of Marlowe’s attitude toward religion.’
It is a great pity that Kocher did not temper his judgment by making a study of Ficino’s and Bruno’s ideas and their influence on Marlowe. This lack of breadth has given his thesis a totally false bias, whilst his whitewashing of Baines as a decent man whose word is to be believed leads him to make some preposterous conclusions. Seeing Marlowe’s mind in the baleful and distorting light cast by Baines, Kocher misrepresents him as ‘the prophet of the new irreligion’. His myopic obsession with Baines’ Note has misled him to misconstrue with a lamentable lack of historical perspective what free thought represented in Elizabethan times. He actually equates ‘free thought’ with the license to slander Christ and debase Christian beliefs, regarding such an expression of ‘free thought’ as (strangely) admirable and courageous, if foolhardy, on the part of Marlowe. By imputing the opinions of the Baines Note to Marlowe he perceives him as some kind of early Marxist-Leninist revolutionary bent on destroying religion as the ‘opium of the people’ which keeps them doped and incapable of revolutionary ardour. This is sadly to compound his error.
Although the free-thinkers were passionately interested in scientific discovery and freedom to pursue the search for knowledge, these men were profoundly conservative in their political allegiance to the Queen. There was no latent revolutionary impulse to rock the boat, or to weaken the organs of state. Not one of them was an extreme Puritan or had political ambitions to change the status quo. They shared only an ardent desire for religious tolerance. Northumberland was a most courageous campaigner for religious toleration, and at his trial in 1606 one of the charges against him was his persistent championship of the Catholics as a persecuted minority, braving the terrible religious intolerance of the time. The King plays for some kind of early Marxist-leftist revolutionary ‘irreligion’ is summed up as follows:
‘For free thought was stirring in England in a vague, unorganized way during the last fifty years of the century. Underneath the intonations of the orthodox writers, one can hear it rising, this mutter of revolutionary dissidence. For the most part is was scattered and anonymous. But in Marlowe we can see the quintessence of it drawn together and revealed. This is the unique historical importance of the Baines Note, to which we have never sufficiently awakened. Of whom among the Elizabethans have we such another record? Not Raleigh, not the scientists, nor any of Marlowe’s fellow dramatists, nor any other literary Englishman whose work we know.. for revolutionary impact and scope it stands alone, an extraordinary document in the history of English free thought.’
This ‘extraordinary document . . of English free thought’ is –the Baines Note!
Kocher’s excited panegyric of meaningless rhetoric in praise of the Baines Note – and informer’s libel that is a mere re-hash of ideas raked up from the ‘immense volume’ of similar obscenities current among ‘reputable, excellent’ ecclesiastical writers as examples of anti-Christian criticism – can be dismissed as glorified dross. There is nothing extraordinary or ‘unique’ about Baines’ Note, for we find the same stock-in-trade indictments added almost as an addendum to the note on Richard Cholmeley (prepared by a rather less skilful anonymous informer who was probably Baines’ underling carrying out his boss’s instruction on how to nail an indictment) showing that responsibility for these scurrilities can be fairly and squarely laid at the door of the informer. They are not mutual confirmation of the informer’s obscene touch, which we can find repeated in the tactics of agents of repression even today. Indeed, their methods have hardly changed over the centuries.
Only compare Baines’ Note with the Nolan’s vision of a reformed religion, purified of intolerance and hypocrisy, bringing with it a more blessed state based on the moral law in which peaceful and useful activities would thrive and all warring between religious sects be banished, and the conclusion is clear. Religious tolerance and hatred of hypocrisy are reflected in Marlowe’s plays, and religious conflicts are exposed as the political tool of powerful factions. This same political acuity allied to this same ethic runs right through the Shakespearean canon.
Academias' Christopher Marlowe Myths
1. Violent: The Distorted Image
The Myth of the Bradley Duel
The Myth of Corkyn v. Marlowe
Kyd's Statements After Being Tortured
3. Blasphemous Atheist
4. The Flimsy Credibility of Baines' Note
A.D. Wraight's Open Letter to Charles Nicholl, Author of The Reckoning, concerning the Murder of Marlowe's Reputation
A.D. Wraight: Her Work
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MARLOWE BOOKS and AUTHORS
Hamlet by Marlowe
David Rhys Williams
Shakespeare Thy Name Is Marlowe
The Clue In The Shrew
Hoffman and the Authorship
The First Man Proclaims It Was Marlowe
William Gleason Zeigler (1895)
The Second Man Asks:
"Was It Marlowe?"
Archie Webster (1923)
Who Was Kit Marlowe?
Benjamin Wham (1961)
Marlowe's Mighty Line: Was Marlowe Murdered at Twenty-Nine?
Marlowe's Extended Canon
Building Blocks of Marlowe's Case
THE AUTHORSHIP DEBATE
The Marlowe-Shakespeare Connection
#1 Web Blog on Christopher Marlowe