Shakespeare and the Emblem Writers an exposition of their similarities of throught and expression, preceded by a view of emblem-literature down to A.D. 1616 — Context and Discussion

Emblem Literature as a Shared Visual Vocabulary

Green devotes the first part of his book to a historical survey of emblem literature from its origins to 1616, establishing the genre's conventions. Emblem books typically paired a symbolic picture (the pictura) with a motto and explanatory verse. The author argues that Shakespeare's audience would have recognized these visual-verbal codes instantly. For instance, the chessboard metaphor in King Lear and elsewhere finds direct counterparts in Corrozet's Hecatomgraphie (1540), where kings and pawns are 'mis dans vng sac, sans ordre ne degré'—a sentiment echoed in old Clifford's dying words. Green's method is to place the emblem text beside the Shakespearean line, letting the reader judge the resemblance.

Verbal Echoes and Proverbial Borrowings

Green identifies dozens of proverbs and phrases common to both the emblem writers and Shakespeare. One striking example is the proverb 'many strokes fell the oak,' which appears in Whitney's address 'to the Reader' as 'with manie blowes the oke is ouerthrowen.' In 3 Henry VI, a messenger reports that York 'stood against them, as the hope of Troy' and that 'many strokes, though with a little axe, / Hew down and fell the hardest-timber'd oak.' Green remarks that 'but for the necessities of the metre, Whitney's words might have been literally quoted.' He also notes the parallel between Whitney's 'manie droppes pierce the stone' and a half-bantering conversation in King Edward, though the excerpt is incomplete.

Direct Quotation of Emblem Mottoes

Beyond shared proverbs, Green claims that Shakespeare sometimes directly quoted emblem mottoes or described emblem devices. He points to the line 'the end crowns all' in Troilus and Cressida as a near-verbatim rendering of the common emblem sentiment 'La fin couronne les œuvres' (the end crowns the works). Similarly, Prince Henry's 'let the end try the man' in 2 Henry IV gives another turn to the same proverb. Green's evidence is cumulative: he assembles multiple instances where the wording aligns too closely for coincidence, while acknowledging that Shakespeare transformed these materials through his dramatic context.

Methodological Caution and Scholarly Precedents

Green is careful to note that he does not claim Shakespeare copied slavishly; rather, he 'interwoven among his own the materials which he had gathered from Emblem writers as their source.' He cites predecessors such as Langlois, Charles Knight, Noel Humphreys, and Dr. Alfred Woltmann, each of whom had pointed out one or two examples. Green's innovation is the systematic scope: he provides 'numerous illustrative devices from the original authors' and organizes the parallels by play and emblem. The work thus serves as a reference tool for readers interested in the visual and verbal culture that shaped Shakespeare's imagination.

Readers approaching this volume should treat it as a sourcebook rather than a continuous argument. The illustrations—reproduced from original emblem plates by Bonasone and Theodore de Bry—are integral to the evidence. Green's commentary is most useful when it lets the juxtapositions speak for themselves; his own interpretations are restrained. For those studying Shakespeare's rhetorical habits or the intellectual background of his age, this work remains a valuable compendium of parallels that illuminate how proverbial wisdom and visual symbols migrated from page to stage.

I remember being startled by Green’s revelation that Shakespeare’s “ravished ears” echoed actual emblem engravings—those tiny, earnest pictures carrying our deepest proverbs. It made me think of other quiet finds, like the marginalia in Fighting for fortune — Reading Notes, where someone else’s pencil strokes felt like a hand reaching across centuries. There is something tender about such kinship, isn’t there?