Samuel Schoenbaum credited the considerable defects of
the Droeshout portrait to the engraver's 'meagre' skills.
Yet other engravings by Martin Droeshaut the Younger do not exhibit the same defects.
His engravings of the Duke of Buckingham,
the Bishop of Durham, Lord Coventry,
the poet John Donne
and many others are of the highest quality,
and adhere to the conventions of the day:
the figures are surrounded by ornamentation,
ribbons inscribed with Latin mottoes,
classical pedestals, and heraldic devices.
Why is the portrait of Shakespeare, by contrast, so utterly unadorned?
Missing even the laurel leaves,
the symbol of poetic triumph considered so essential for a writer's portrait?
Droeshout was only twenty-one when he received the commission,
having learned engraving as an apprentice to his talented father, Michael Droeshaut.
But that doesn't mean that he was an inexperienced or incompetent engraver.
His other engravings, executed at around the same time,
show none of the defects of the First Folio portrait of Shakespeare.
This engraving of Sir William Fairfax, for example,
is signed 'M.D.' and is typically attributed to Martin Droeshout the Younger.
Given the publication date of 1621
it would likely have been executed before the Shakespeare portrait.
It shows far more skill and realism.
Perhaps the problem was that William Shakspere
was dead and Droeshout could not have met him.
Yet his portrait of John Foxe,
who died in 1587,
was executed sometime between 1623 -
the year the First Folio was published - and 1630.
Despite the fact that the subject was dead thirteen years before Droeshout was even born,
the engraving is lifelike and skilfully executed.
Even his circa 1633 portrait of the poet John Donne,
depicted as a dead man in his death shroud,
shows greater three-dimensionality and realism around the face,
and in the draping of the cloth,
an artistic effect that takes considerable skill to accomplish.
Is it possible that Droeshout was working from an inadequate portrait?
The Buttery portrait, owned by the Folger Library,
has been suggested as a possible model,
but it hasn't been dated,
and it's possible that IT was inspired by the engraving, rather than the other way round.
But even if he was working from a bad portrait,
Droeshout's other engravings from the time suggest
he already possessed sufficient skill to compensate for,
and correct, any deficiencies in the model.
So why didn't the publishers of this expensive 900-page Folio volume -
a book it would cost two-thirds of a school-teacher's monthly salary to buy -
reject this crude and bizarre portrait as a suitable adornment for their publication?
Was it, in fact, exactly what they had asked for?