ACT TWO*
n7176
Scene One: This act opens in John and Rebecca Brittleware's household and china-shop. The Brittlewares are new characters and this is a new setting and the decision to bring them onstage at the start of a new act is consistent with the dramaturgic style of indoor theatre plays where separate acts were demarcated by entr'acte music and breaks in the performance.
This kind of shared residential premises was very common at this time; the notebooks of London woodturner, Nehemiah Wallington, from this period indicate exactly this form of living arrangements, including live-in lodgers in the same way that the Brittlewares share their household with Sir Hugh Moneylacks and have done for some time. The interest of this play in the living conditions of 1630s London as well as the practices of community and neighbourhood are explored in more detail in the introductory essay, but it is worth noting here Brome's decision to represent a number of different tenanted lodgings onstage. The play also brings before the audience a whole range of contrasting couples, many of them dysfunctional marriages or relationships in some way. John Brittleware's first words are an attempt to appease his seemingly dissatisfied wife: 'Sweet wife, content thyself'. Her cravings and desires seem to be for a child - so in effect her cravings are 'out of joint', since they come pre-pregnancy. The Brittleware family name presumably reflects the family trade of selling chinawares, which were in vogue in London in the early seventeenth century; Ben Jonson's 1609 play Epicoene had featured a chinashop owner and his wife, Captain and Mistress Otter, and his entertainment written for the opening of Britain's Burse that year makes great play of the chinaware and porcelain to be sold in the New Exchange's retail outlets. Theatre audiences would also have been well aware that china-shops had become synonymous in the public imagination with brothels and, while that allusion is only hinted at here, the general pervasive air of suppressed or thwarted sexuality in the Brittleware household is self-evident. These kinds of loose associations prepare the audience for the next site of capitalist enterprise that we will see in the play, which is the Asparagus Garden itself in which the entire third act is located. There Martha and her husband the gardener clearly run a covert brothel behind the respectable front of a pleasure house and gardens selling the new delicacy of asparagus spears. The secondary implication of the Brittleware name is directly sexual and implies John's impotency - he has 'brittle wares'. This all lends itself to scenes replete with sexual double-entendres of the most knowing kind. Rebecca laments that she has been married for five years and still has no child to show for it. She uses insulting nicknames to draw attention to her husband's failures in the bedroom; he is a 'fribling fumbler' etc. She also uses his own names, John and Jack, as veritable sticks with which to beat him throughout their dialogues and discursive exchanges. Brome is, of course, operating here within the highly recognisable parameters of the clichéd 'upside down marriage' where the husband is henpecked by his stronger wife (the image was common in church misericords from the late medieval period onwards), but he also creates something subtler and more complex from that stage stereotype as the play progresses. As already noted, Moneylacks is a lodger in the Brittlewares' household and often finds himself directly implicated in their marital disputes. He takes advantage of Rebecca's cravings to introduce her to the idea of consuming asparagus at the Asparagus Garden (thereby earning himself the commission we learned in the first act that he makes as a 'gather guest' for Martha and her husband). By extension the audience is invited to think about Sir Hugh's multiple 'projects' including the sedan chairs mentioned in act one as a larger attempt to satisfy (or create) the cravings of London as a consumerist capital, hungry for each new craze and fashion. Moneylacks's description to Rebecca of what asparagus could do for her in terms of increased fertility also allows the play to pick up on and respond to what were lively contemporary debates about formal medicine as promulgated by the College of Physicians and herbalism, which was practised by more independent and itinerant individuals in London in the 1630s (see Woolley, 2004). Key figures in that debate included William Harvey, surgeon to the Caroline Court (and discoverer in this period of the circulation of the blood) and herbalists such as Nicholas Culpeper and John Gerard and the detailed references Brome makes to medicinal and herbalist practice, both here and in plays such as The Antipodes suggest he was knowledgeable in this area. (For a more detailed discussion of the implications of this for the play, see the introductory essay).
Through the course of Moneylacks's sales pitch on behalf of asparagus and its properties the audience gets a first tantalizing description of the Asparagus Garden itself and the diverse company and society that appears to gather there. This also serves to prepare the audience for the third act setting. Rebecca's exit from the stage enables another plot stratagem to come into the audience's view. Moneylacks and his confederate Spring are plotting to deceive a naive young man who has come to London from the West Country of England (from Taunton in Somerset to be precise). The young man, whose name is Timothy Hoyden (his surname meaning rural clown or fool would immediately indicate to the audience his vulnerability in the face of city scammers like Moneylacks) wants to be a gentleman and is prepared to pay for the pleasure of being instructed in the art. Moneylacks and Spring intend to trick him and win the money for themselves in the process and they proceed to involve Brittleware in their plan. They suggest he play the role of a 'barber-surgeon' which was apparently his trade before he opened the china shop. Barber-surgeons, who had their own city guild, were also part of the medical rivalries and attempts at regulation in the 1630s that the earlier discussion of herbalism has already invoked. That the play chooses to offer such a negative portrayal of a barber-surgeon may be an indication of Brome's personal sympathies in these matters.
Spring has apparently waylaid Hoyden and his servant, Coulter (named appositely after an agricultural implement used for ploughing - his name along with his pronounced Somerset dialect in the play means that the audience immediately locate him as existing in a social space quite different to that of the all-knowing Londoners) and these two characters enter onstage during this scene. Tim, we learn, has £400 to spend and this is what Moneylacks and his 'crew' (this pejorative terms is actually used by Coulter to describe the grouping on several occasions in the dialogue) have their eyes on and they immediately make suggestions as to how he might spend it. Continuing the medical frame of reference, they suggest that what Tim needs to do to become a gentleman is to be bled and purged of his coarse rural identity (is there an implicit parody of Harvey's theories of blood and circulation here?). They are also going to put him, quite literally, on a city diet - no more of the rural foodstuffs such as pease-pudding and porridge, but instead shrimps and asparagus, food that is a display of conspicuous consumption and therefore of wealth and status. The fascination of this play with food as a key to social identity should not be underestimated. Several key characters make reference to a longing for particular kinds of diets and that helps the audience to 'place' them socially and culturally. The asparagus at the heart of the play's title and central setting is also part of the way in which the play offers various models or paradigms of consumption to the audience for consideration.
Moneylacks and his crew will also train Hoyden in the behaviour and appearance of a gentleman, teaching him 'The look, the garb, the congee'. In this way their 'education' mirrors that being offered by printed manuals at this time such as Henry Peacham's influential The Compleat Gentleman (first published 1622, but crucially published in second and third editions in 1627 and 1634, the latter being directly relevant for Brome's composition of The Sparagus Garden). In 1637, Peacham (whose Coach and Sedan I also consider to be an important cognate text for this play) also published The Gentleman's Exercise, the language and ideas of which would seem to resonate with the Tim Hoyden scenes of this play. Other print manuals will also be invoked in later scenes such as the fencing and dancing manuals that were considered to be required reading for young gentlemen at this time.
n7176
2.1
BRITTLEWARE [and] REBECCA [enter].
166BrittlewareSweet wife, content thyself.
167RebeccaYes, content myself? Shall I so? With what, you John Bo-peep*n5954
Presumably a reference to Brittleware's sexual impotency - his invisible erection in the marriage bed?
? You must be my husband, and I must content myself, must I? No, sir, ’tis you that must content me*n5772
This heated marital exchange is all about impotency and Rebecca's perception that her husband has failed to get her pregnant. Brome cleverly builds on all the insinuations about Striker's sexual impotency in the first act to present us here with a genuinely childless and impotent marriage. Some of the terms of the exchange seems strikingly modern and it would be fascinating to see how this element of the play would be received in an era of IVF treatment.
, or ’tis your heart must smart†gg2089
(v) suffer pain
for’t.
n5954
n5772
gg2089
168Brittleware*n5773
His surname, of course, indicates not only his profession as the owner of a china-shop in London (that sells 'brittleware' as Moneylacks notes in 2.1) but the supposed impotency he is charged with by his dissatisfied wife.
If you could be content with all that I have, or all that I can do and expect no further I then might hope to pacify you.
n5773
169RebeccaAll has not done it yet you see, nor have you yet found out the way. Five years practice one would think were sufficient*n5955
The Brittlewares have clearly been married for five years.
. So long you have had me, and too long it is unless I had got a better name by’t*n5774
Rebecca is here complaining about her married surname which she now takes to be a public labelling or signifier of her childless marriage.
. To be accounted barren – oh me!
n5955
n5774
170BrittlewareNow ’tis out; zounds†gg382
'by God's wounds' (OED), a strong oath
, what would you have me do? Where’s the defect think you? Is it not probable that you may be defective as well as I?
gg382
171RebeccaThat I may be defective! I defy thee, lubber†gg3866
a big clumsy, stupid fellow
; I defy thee and all that say so, thou fribbling†gg3867
foolish, stumbling
fumbler, thou; I would some honest sufficient*n5786
here with the underlying meaning of sexually competent and fertile.
man might be judge betwixt us whether I be defective.
gg3866
gg3867
n5786
172MoneylacksHow now, always wrangling?
173RebeccaDefective quoth a –
174MoneylacksWhat’s the matter, landlord*n7201
Moneylacks's status as a tenant in the Brittleware household is just one of several examples of urban living arrangements represented in the play.
?
n7201
175RebeccaDo I look like a thing defective?
176MoneylacksLandlady –
177RebeccaOh, fearful!
178MoneylacksMistress Brittleware, what’s the matter?
179RebeccaYou shall be judge, Sir Hugh, whether I be defective; you have lain*n5759
lyen (Q)
here, Sir Hugh these three years – have been our constant lodger off and on as we say – and can you think me defective?
n5759
180BrittlewareYou will not be impudent?
181MoneylacksGood Master Brittleware, what’s the matter?
182BrittlewareThe matter is, sir, she will be content with nothing.
183MoneylacksThe best wife i’the world and if you cannot afford her that to content her, you are a most hard-hearted husband.
184RebeccaWhat nothing? Would you wish him to afford me nothing to content me? I must have something to content me; and something he must find me, or I will make him look out for’t.
185MoneylacksCome, come, I know the quarrel; and I know you will never get a child by falling out.
186RebeccaNor any way else, so long as he is such a jealous beast as he is.
187MoneylacksOh, you must leave your jealousy, Master Brittleware; that’s a main†gg1685
chief, principal (OED main n, 5a)
hindrance.
gg1685
188BrittlewareI am not jealous, I.
189RebeccaNot and stare like a mad ox upon every man that looks upon me?
190MoneylacksFie upon him, is he such a beast to be jealous of his own wife? If every man were so, it would spoil the getting of some children in a year.
191RebeccaAnd denies me all things that I have a mind to.
192BrittlewareThe best is the loss of your longings will not hurt you unless you were with child.
193RebeccaI must have my longings first; I am not every woman, I, I must have my longings before I can be with child*n5788
Rebecca's 'longings' are here directly compared to cravings experienced during pregnancy. This scene is yet further example of Brome's interest in the female body and in particular states associated with pregnancy, fertility and phantom pregnancies. This play will, of course, also feature the fake pregnancy of Annabel, achieved via the ultimate stage property of a cushion (see Act 5). Brome explores related conditions in The Northern Lass through onstage characters such as Holdup and offstage characters such as Mistress Vexham.
, I.
n5788
194BrittlewareYou must not long for every strange thing you see or hear of then.
195RebeccaAs true as I live he fribbles†gg1024
falters, stammers or muddles through
with me, Sir Hugh; I do but now long for two or three idle things scarce worth the speaking of; and do you think he will grant me one of’em?
gg1024
196MoneylacksWhat may they be? He shall grant’em?
197RebeccaOne of my longings is to have a couple of lusty able-bodied men to take me up, one before and another behind as the new fashion is*n5789
The bawdy inference from this description of how people are carried in sedan chair is fairly obvious. This entire scene is replete with sexual innuendo and double meanings.
, and carry me in a man-litter*n5790
Rebecca's striking coinage for the sedan chair which was newly in vogue as a mode of personal transport in London in the 1630s. Audiences will recall that Striker has already mentioned Moneylacks's involvement in a financial project or scheme relating to sedans in the first act. As with his efforts to 'sell' the Asparagus Garden to Rebecca as a concept here, he has clearly worked on her desires in this regard as well. See also Peacham's 1637 pamphlet Coach and Sedan in which a coach and a sedan literally debate who is the most superior in a mini-play and Act 4 of Brome's The Antipodes where a debate is staged between a waterman, a carman, and a sedan-man. The lines of influence here are complicated and are yet to be fully unpacked but both Brome and Peacham are clearly responding to a topical issue of the day. The argument in Peacham's playlet is eventually moderated by a brewer's cart.
into the great bed at Ware*n5791
Ware in Hertsfordshire was a major stop on coaching routes in the 1620s and 1630s and became very famous for a large four poster bed in an inn there, which became a site of popular resort and mythmaking. It is typical that Rebecca would include a longing to visit this site in her list of cravings as it had obvious sexual connotations.
.
n5789
n5790
n5791
198MoneylacksThere’s one, and will you deny her this to hinder a child getting?
199RebeccaThen I do long to see the new ship*n5792
Rebecca could be referring here to a number of new ships, in particular men-of-war, commissioned by Charles I in the 1630s, part of the strengthening of the English Fleet that the ill-fated Ship Money collections were designed to make possible. Chief among these was the Sovereign of the Seas and it is feasible this is Rebecca's point of reference since, although it was not officially launched until 1637, it was a point of interest while it was being built at Woolwich docks and a published guide to its interior authored by Thomas Heywood, who had been involved in writing some of the mottos carved on the imprese and devices of the ship, indicates that guided tours were given of the ship ('A true discription of his Majesties royall and most stately ship called the Soveraign of the Seas, built at Wolwitch in Kent 1637', London, 1638). Other objects of interest Rebecca mentions here such as the new steeple on St Paul's were also incomplete at the time of the play's first performance. This all helps to stress the premature nature of her desires and cravings to a well-informed London audience. Charles I was sufficiently proud of his new ship to have had a scale model made to show to visiting foreign dignitaries (Cust, 2005: 190).
, and to be on the top of Paul’s steeple when it is new built*n5794
The reference is to St Paul's Cathedral which was undergoing major renovations throughout the 1630s. The poor state of repair that St Paul's was in was a major concern of Charles I's government and in 1631 he visited the site 'and instigated plans for its restoration' (Sharpe, 1995: 322). Attempts to raise money for this work were however painfully slow in their effects and so by 1635 when this play is written and performed the work is very much ongoing. Even before its restoration work St Paul's steeple was the most visible landmark in the London skyline and is a point of reference in many plays from the period as a result.
, but that must not be yet; nor am I so unreasonable but that I can stay the time*n7178
wait
. In the meantime I long to see a play, and above all plays The Knight of the Burning*n7179
This was the 1613 Blackfriars play by Francis Beaumont, originally performed by the Children of the Revels. An initial failure, the play was successfully revived in the 1630s: as its 1635 quarto printing tells us it 'was acted by her Majesties Servants at the Private house in Drury Lane', i.e. the Cockpit Theatre. Brome's reference to the play here has been taken by scholars of proof of its success in the Caroline context, though I would also argue that it is a play with specific associations with a female audience in terms of its links to Queen Henrietta Maria's theatrical patronage. Sir Henry Herbert's records also indicate that a court performance took place byt the Queen's Men on 28 February 1636 (Zitner, 1988, p. 43).
Presumably Moneylacks jumps in to complete the play's title to highlight a pun on 'pestle' as 'pizzle' (slang for penis) again implying the sexual undertow to all of Rebecca's cravings for experience.
– what d’ye call’t?
n5792
n5794
n7178
n7179
200MoneylacksThe Knight of the Burning Pestle.*n5795
Rebecca's reference, as Moneylacks's subsequent completion of the full title makes clear is to Francis Beaumont's play The Knight of the Burning Pestle, first published in 1613 and originally performed by the Children of the Revels at the Blackfriars Theatre in 1607. It was revived for the Caroline stage and republished in 1635, when by all accounts it was far more successful with audiences. The titlepage of the 1635 edition declares that it was 'acted by her Majesties Servants at the Private house in Drury Lane', that is the Cockpit Theatre. A court performance also took place on 28 February 1636 and there are also records of a performance in Yorkshire, probably in the great hall of Skipton Castle, owned by the Cliffords and an acknowledged locale of household performances at this time (see Zitner, 1984: 42-3). This widespread interest in the play would also suggest that it suited Caroline tastes.
The particular relevance to Rebecca is that the play features a framing story involve George a citizen and his wife who keep interfering in the 'onstage' action of the play, even to the extent of insisting on a starring role for their son Rafe, an apprentice. What Rebecca is less attuned to, however, is that the play parodies people like herself.
n5795
201RebeccaPestle, is it? I thought of another thing*n7180
i.e. she thought of the word 'pizzle' (slang for penis) rather than the correct word 'pestle' in recalling the play's title.
, but I would fain see it. They say there’s a grocer’s boy kills a giant in it*n5829
A reference to Rafe in The Knight of the Burning Pestle who in the mock-heroic romance plot of the play within a play does exactly this.
, and another little boy that does a citizen’s wife*n5830
In all the references to boy actors in the performance of The Knight of the Burning Pestle Rebecca alludes both to the general practice of Caroline theatre companies of boy actors in women's roles but also to the larger history of this play as a boys' company text (see Munro, 2005).
the daintiliest ――― but
I would fain see their best actor do me: I would so put him to’t, they should find another thing in handling of me*n5835
As ever, Rebecca's statements have a bawdy secondary meaning. Here the act of performance shades readily into the sexual act.
, I warrant ’em.
n7180
n5829
n5830
n5835
202BrittlewareHeyday! So last frost*n5839
There had been a series of particularly hard frosts in London in the early seventeenth century which led to the freezing over of the Thames for several weeks and the creation of frost fairs on the rivers. The most recent, to which Brittleware is presumably alluding, was in 1634-5 (see timeline in Currie, 1996).
she longed to ride on one of the dromedaries*n7181
An especially light breed of camel, good for racing and presumably in context for walking on frozen river ice.
over the Thames*n5840
As part of the frost fairs which took place when the Thames froze over during extreme winter weather conditions, there were several spectacles and theatrical entertainments of this kind made available to a paying public. (See Currie, 1996.)
, when great men were pleased to go over it afoot.
n5839
n7181
n5840
203MoneylacksWell, shall I make a convenient motion†gg941
formal proposal or request (OED n. 13b)
for you both?
gg941
204RebeccaQuickly, sweet Sir Hugh, I long for that before you name it.
205MoneylacksHave you this spring eaten any asparagus yet?*n5842
Asparagus has a short season during which it can be picked and eaten, usually running from late April into mid-May in the UK.
n5842
206RebeccaWhy is that good for a woman that longs to be with child?
207MoneylacksOf all the plants, herbs, roots, or fruits that grow it is the most provocative†gg4833
exciting appetite or lust
, operative†gg4834
effective
and effective.
gg4833
gg4834
208RebeccaIndeed, Sir Hugh?
209MoneylacksAll your best (especially your modern) herbalists conclude*n5844
Though originally published in 1597, John Gerard's Herbal had been republished with major additions in 1633 so may well be the 'modern' authority Moneylacks refers to here. Certainly it has a major entry with accompanying illustrations on asparagus (Gerard, Herbal 1112). This is another instance in the play when references appear to touch on contemporary debates about practice between professional medics and sugeons and herbalists (see Wolley, 2004).
, that your asparagus is the only sweet stirrer*n5847
The sense here is slightly ambiguous; it could simply mean a vegetable used to stir drinks and desserts due to its stick-like shape - certainly the other examples offered by Moneylacks share this appearance with asparagus (gladioli, for example, are flowers that grow on very long straight stems). Alternatively though is the medicinal and homeopathic sense that these plants act as aphrodisiacs - stirring the loins as it were. Certainly Rebecca wants to know if partaking of the fashionable new vegetable will assist in making her pregnant. Steggle (2004: 78) notes that asapragus was widely held to be a diuretic, laxative and aphrodisiac and that the herbalist Nicholas Culpeper discussed it in the following terms as making 'the belly soluble and open' and that it 'stirreth up lust'.
that the earth sends forth, beyond your wild carrots, cornflag, or gladioli*n5754
gladiall (Q)
*n5848
Cornflag is the common name for gladioli communis.
. Your roots of standergrass*n5849
Orchis mascula; also known as standerwort. Still commonly used in medicinal treatments today.
, or of satyrion*n5860
An ancient aphrodisiac made from the plant ragwort.
boiled in goat’s milk are held good; your clary*n5851
Salvia sclarea or clary sage; a common herbal treatment used today as in early modern periods. Often prescribed for stomach ailments and as an essential oil. In early modern times it was also considered a vegetable.
or horminum*n5861
Salvia horminum is traditionally used as a medicinal gargle or antiseptic. As with all the plants named here it tends to grow in the form of long stems; Moneylacks connects this with a phallic interpretation in his catalogue of foodstuffs and liquid concoctions that Rebecca might take to induce fertility.
in diverse ways good, and dill (especially boiled in oil) is also good: but none of these, nor saffron boiled in wine, your nuts*n7182
presumably artichoke hearts
of artichokes, rocket, or seeds of ash-tree (which we call the kite-keys), nor thousand such, though all are good, may stand up for perfection with asparagus.
n5844
n5847
n5754
n5848
n5849
n5860
n5851
n5861
n7182
210RebeccaDo you say so, Sir Hugh?
211MoneylacksI have it from the opinion of most learned doctors, rare physicians*n7183
Moneylacks is presumably referring to the College of Physicians who were active at this time in staking their claim to the control and regulation of certain medical practices (not least to safeguard the financial profits to be made by performing them) (see Wolley, 2004). By making Moneylacks part of this grouping Brome may be implicitly expressing sympathy for the herbalists in the debates. Certainly, Richard Cave in his edition of The Antipodes for this Complete Works has identified parallel positions in that play.
, and one that dares call himself so.
n7183
212BrittlewareWhat doctor is he, a fool on horseback?
213MoneylacksDoctor Thou-Lord; you know him well enough.
214RebeccaYes, we know Doctor Thou-Lord, though he knows none but lords and ladies*n5862
This is a satirical portrait of the medical profession; Doctor Thou-Lord is only interested in patients he knows will be able to settle bills generously. There may also be a specific reference here to William Harvey, the King's physician. Harvey's links to both Charles I and the Duke of Buckingham had provoked considerable envy within the profession. Brome seems elsewhere to criticize Harvey and his fellow physicians and to express sympathy for the more amateur pharmacists and herbalists of the age (see Woolley, 2004). My thanks to Richard Cave for rich discussion on this topic.
, or their companions. And a fine conceited doctor he is, and as humorous I warrant you. And will ‘thou’ and ‘thee’ the best lords that dare be acquainted with him: calls
knights Jack, Will, and Tom familiarly; and great ladies Gills*n5863
A conventional name for a prostitute.
and sluts too and*n5864
if
they cross him. And for his opinion sake, and your good report. Sir Hugh, I will have sparagus every meal all the year long*n5867
An impossibility in view of asparagus's short season.
, or I’ll make all fly for’t. And do you look to’t, Fribble*n5868
A mocking nickname, implying Flounderer or Fumbler (another allusion to Brittleware's limited sexual prowess).
, for it will be for your commodity†gg459
goods, merchandise (OED 6a)
as well as mine.
n5862
n5863
n5864
n5867
n5868
gg459
215BrittlewareAnd sure it is a rare commodity when a knight is become a broker†gg534
a retailer of commodities, a second-hand dealer, pedlar
for to cry it up so.
gg534
216RebeccaAnd let me have some presently for my next meal, or you cannot imagine how sick I will be.
217MoneylacksBut mistake not me, nor the commodity we speak of Mistress Brittleware. Where would you have it? Here in our own house? Fie! The virtue of it is mortified*n5956
The power of it is completely lost
if it pass the threshold from the ground it grows on. No, you must thither to the garden of delight*n5957
Moneylacks describes the Asparagus Garden in terms derived from the genre of romance; see also 'palace of pleasure' in this same scene.
, where you may have it dressed†gg4835
prepared (as in food)
and eaten in the due kind. And there it is so provocative†gg4833
exciting appetite or lust
, and so quick in the hot operation, that none dare eat it, but those that carry their coolers*n5872
Moneylacks's implication here is that people carry portable remedies to dampen their sexual ardour as required.
with ’em presently to delay or take off the delightful fury it fills ’em with.
n5956
n5957
gg4835
gg4833
n5872
218RebeccaIs there conveniency for that too?
219MoneylacksYes, yes; the house affords you as convenient couches to retire to as the garden has beds for the precious plants to grow in. That makes the place a palace of pleasure*n5958
Moneylacks describes the Asparagus Garden in terms derived from the genre of romance. Compare 'garden of delight' a few lines earlier.
, and daily resorted and filled with lords and knights and their ladies, gentlemen and gallants with their mistresses –
n5958
220RebeccaBut do not honest men go thither with their wives too?
221MoneylacksNone other; some to their own costs and some at other men’s.
222RebeccaWhy do we not go then? Or what stay we for, can you tell, Fumbler?
223MoneylacksNay, Mistress Brittleware, not so suddenly. Towards the evening will be the fittest season of the day. Meanwhile go in and fit yourself for the walk*n5901
i.e. put on suitable clothing for the walk to the Asparagus Garden. This mention reflects the newly fashionable mode of fashionable city walking as a leisure pursuit in its own right that has been discussed as a particular phenomenon of the early seventeenth century by Karen Newman (2002). The ways in which this also changed the ways that people understood and practised their city is an interesting consideration.
; your husband and I are first for another business.
n5901
224RebeccaNoble knight, I thank you; I hope my next longing shall be to bespeak you for a godfather.
225MoneylacksYou shall not long long for that.
226RebeccaI take your noble word.[REBECCA] Exit[s].
227BrittlewareShe’s gone, and now, Sir Hugh, let me tell you, you have not dealt well with me, to put this fagary†gg3939
a whim or eccentricity (also fegary, figary)
into her foolish fancy.
gg3939
228MoneylacksWilt thou be an ass now? Do not I know how to fetch it out on her again, think’st thou? She shall not go, and yet be contented too.
229BrittlewareAy, you tell me so.
230MoneylacksWhy, thou wilt not be jealous of me now that has lain in thy house*n5903
i.e. lodged in your house
these three years, wilt thou? Nor think me so foolish to provoke thee with an injury, that knowest me and my ways so well?
n5903
231BrittlewareI know something by your worship worth the price of a new pillory†gg3141
a device for punishment, usually consisting of a wooden framework mounted on a post, with holes or rings for trapping the head and hands, in which an offender was confined so as to be subjected to public ridicule, abuse, assault, etc.; punishment of this kind (OED 1)
.
gg3141
232MoneylacksWhy so then, and will I wrong thee, Jack, think’st thou, ha? No nor mistrust thee neither; for though thou art a jealous coxcomb over thy wife, and she a touchy thing under thee, yet thou and I
Jack, have been always confident of each other, and have wrought friendly and closely together, as ever Subtle and his Lungs did*n5904
The reference is to characters in Ben Jonson's 1610 play The Alchemist in which Face the butler performed the role of 'Lungs', assistant to Subtle's 'alchemist'. There is an irony to Moneylacks's reassurance to Brittleware here that they are as close as these two characters as anyone with a good knowledge of the play would be aware that the pair begin the play arguing and end in anything but mutual amity. Nor are the proceeds of their alchemy scam equally shared out between the two parties since Face, really Jeremy the butler, ends up dividing the spoils with his returned master, Lovewit. As with earlier references to Jonson's 1629 play The New Inn Brome is assuming a theatre-literate audience for this play and one with a confirmed knowledge of the Jonsonian canon at that.
; and shared the profit betwixt us, haven’t we, Jack, ha?
n5904
233BrittlewareI think we have; and that you have some new device, some stratagem in hand now. 'Uds me*n7184
My God
, I now remember – is the party come to town*n5906
This question, and Brittleware's sudden act of remembrance, promulgate a whole new plotline in the play at this point; the story of Timothy Hoyden, the Somerset man, come to be made a gentleman in the city and therefore subject to the scams of Moneylacks.
?
n7184
n5906
234MoneylacksYes; and my Spring has seized him upon the way and here I expect him instantly.
235BrittlewareAnd will he be made a gentleman?
236MoneylacksThat’s his ambition, Jack, and though you now keep a china-shop and deal in brittle commodities (pots, glasses, porcelain*n5761
purslane (Q). The obsolete version of porcelain has been modernised here to avoid confusion with the winter salad of the same name.
dishes, and more trinkets than an antiquary’s study is furnished withal*n5907
Antiquarians at this time were becoming known for collecting 'cabinets of curiosities' or wunderkammer, often including objects from world travels as well as relics of the past. The best known in this period in England was that being established by the gardener and plantsman-traveller John Tradescant and his wife at their Lambeth household (today the Tradescant museum in London). Many of the contents of Tradecant's 'cabinet' can now be viewed as part of the collection on display at the Ashmolean Museum in Oxford (the collection was sold by Tradescant's son to Elias Ashmole in the later seventeenth century).
Since some critics have also seen a reference to Tradescant in the scene with the gardener and his wife Martha, who run the Asparagus Garden business, at the start of Act 3, there may be an embedded allusion here too.
) you must not forget your old trade of barber-surgeon*n5908
The hybrid role of barber-surgeon, which dated from medieval battlefields, was recognised by its own guild and company in the early modern period. In the 1630s Inigo Jones would be commissioned to design an anatomy theatre for their London property which shared many features with his theatrical and masquing designs and with the layout and dimensions of Caroline commercial playhouses. It seems very apt then that part of Brittleware's role in this play is that of performance or feigning of other roles, including his past career as a barber-surgeon.
; ’tis that must stead†gg3961
to be useful or advantageous to (OED, v.)
us now in our new project†gg601
design or pattern according to which something is made (OED n. 1; now obsolete)
.
n5761
n5907
n5908
gg3961
gg601
238MoneylacksWe must make him one, Jack; ’tis such a squab†gg3962
raw inexperienced person (Brome's The Sparagus Garden is OED's only recorded example); also a young pigeon or newly hatched bird
as thou never sawest; such a lump, we may make what we will of him.
gg3962
239BrittlewareThen sure we will make money of him.
240MoneylacksWell said, Jack. Spring has writ me here his full description.
SPRING [enters with Timothy] HOYDEN [and his man] COULTER.
242SpringI come to present a gentleman to you, sir.
243MoneylacksHow, a gentleman? Will you abuse me?
244SpringHe finds your defect already. But, be bold, sir; he desires to be a gentleman, sir; and (though he be but coarse metal yet*n5959
An allusion derived from alchemy. Spring compares Hoyden to the coarse metal that the alchemical process must make into gold (i.e. a gentleman in their schema).
) he has that about him which with your help may quickly make him a clear†gg4836
(adj) bright, splendid, brilliant
gentleman.
n5959
gg4836
245Hoyden†gg3964
a rude, ignorant or awkward fellow; a clown, boor (OED, n; obsolete)
I have four hundred pounds, sir; and I brought it up to town on purpose to make myself a clear†gg4836
(adj) bright, splendid, brilliant
gentleman of it.
gg3964
gg4836
246MoneylacksIt was well brought up; it appears also that you have had some breeding, though but a yeoman†gg4837
a man holding a small landed estate, one who cultivates his own land, usually of respectable standing
’s son?
gg4837
247Hoyden’Tis true, I have a little learning sir, and a little wit, though last night I met with some upon the way at Hammersmith*n326
A village approximately seven miles west of St. Paul's, on the northern bank of the Thames.
that had more: yet I had enough to perceive I was cheated of a
matter of seven pound (almost all the odd money I had about me) at my card afore thy card*n5909
Gambling tricks by which the Hammersmith gang sought to defraud Hoyden of his money.
; a pox take the whole pack on ’em. ’Sdaggers, if ever man that had but a mind to be a gentleman was so noddy pooped†gg3963
fooled
*n5960
utterly fooled. The phrase is somewhat tautologous since 'noddy' = a fool and 'pooped' = fooled according to the OED.
! Oh, how I could chafe†gg4838
(v) become irritated
to think on’t.
n326
n5909
gg3963
n5960
gg4838
248SpringOh, but you must not; it becomes not the temper of a gentleman.
249HoydenSo you told me; then I thank you, friend.
250SpringYour small acquaintance, sir.*n5911
Hoyden misapprehends Spring's overly elaborate discourse here and henceforth rather touchingly refers to him as 'small acquaintance'. Presumably this could be pointed up in performance by casting an actor of dimunitive stature in the role. Since John Brittleware is regularly described as being large and lumpish this would provide a fine visual contrast as well.
n5911
251HoydenI have had more acquaintance where I have found less love, and I thank you again, good small acquaintance. You told me indeed it became not a gentleman to cry for losing his money; and I told you then that I should or would be a gentleman:
Whereupon, small acquaintances (because I was resolved to play no more) you advised me to give over; and you told me you would, upon our coming to the city, here bring me to a
knight that was a gentleman-maker, whom I conceive this to be, and here am I, and here’s my four hundred pound, which my man has here drawn up to town, and here I mean to quarter it*n5961
Hoyden refers to the transportation of his money to town, but Moneylacks will play on his use of the terms 'drawn' and 'quarter' to pun on the violent punishment regularly meted out on felons (and not only on their corposes) at public executions in this period. This all helps to create our sense of Hoyden as the 'victim' of the wiser city characters in this scene.
.
n5961
252Coulter*n5762
Coulter delivers his lines throughout in a basic version of a Somerset dialect with particular distinct markers such as 'z' for 's'. This is comparable to the 'rural' dialect Jonson accords his provincial characters in his 1633 play A Tale of a Tub. Hoyden's discourse has not been marked as a distinct dialect type as Brome makes no phonetic indicator of any slips into his provincial dialect and this is in keeping with his aspirations to become a city gentleman, and presumably therefore to speak in the received pronunciation of the city.
But I will see what pennyworths you bargain for first, by your mastership’s leave.
n5762
253MoneylacksDrawn and quartered! You have a wit, sir; I find that already.
254HoydenYes, sir, I have a downright country wit and was counted a pretty spark†gg1290
young foppish man (gallant) (OED n2. 2a)
at home. Did you never hear of little Tim of Taunton*n5912
Village in Somerset.
? But I now mean to have a finical†gg3940
over-particular or affectedly fastidious
city wit, and a superfinical court wit*n5913
The City Wit is the title of an early Brome play and City-Wit, Court-Wit and Country-Wit are characters in another 1630s playtext The Court Beggar.
too, before I see mine uncle.
gg1290
n5912
gg3940
n5913
255MoneylacksYou may, sir.
256HoydenAnd be able to jest and jeer†gg3211
(v) to treat with scorn (OED 2)
among men of judgement. I have a many small jests, petty Johns, as I call ’em: but I will have a clubbing wit*n5962
The 1620s and 1630s were notable for the rise in numbers of gentlemen's clubs and coterie gatherings (often in taverns). See Raylor (1994) and O'Callaghan (2007) as well as examples of the same in Brome's The Weeding of Covent Garden.
and a drinking wit; and be able to hold play
with the great poets, ay: and with dry jests to maul the malapertest†gg3941
most saucy or impudent
lesser ones (that hold themselves better than the biggest) out o’ the pit of wit I, before I see mine uncle.
gg3211
n5962
gg3941
257MoneylacksYou may have all, sir, if you quarter your four hundred pound discreetly: but who is your uncle, I pray?
258HoydenFor that you shall pardon me, till I am a gentleman. But I assure you he is a great gentleman in the city here; and I neither must nor dare see him till I am one at least: and I will tell you presently how I mean to quarter*n7186
i.e. divide it in quarters (in Tim's case parcelling his four hundred pound into four separate hundreds). The others in the scene quickly pun on this idea taking the term to mean quartering as in the punishment of hanging, drawing and quartering, physicalising Tim's money as well as providing a resonant metaphor for the ways in which they are cheating and humiliating him.
my money.
n7186
259Coulter [Aside] They’ll quarter that and you too*n7187
Coulter here picks up on the fact that Tim's innocent division of his money into quarters will be quickly reinterpreted by the London scammers who aim to cheat him of his fortune. They will effectively 'hang, draw and quarter' the poor man in the process.
, if I zee not the better to the matter.
n7187
260Moneylacks [Aside to SPRING and in BRITTLEWARE'S hearing] Dost thou know the uncle he speaks of?
261Spring [Aside to MONEYLACKS] No, nor cannot learn who it is for my life.
262Brittleware [Aside to MONEYLACKS and SPRING] Some great man sure that’s ashamed of his kindred: perhaps some suburb justice that sits o’ the skirts o’the city and lives by’t.*n5914
Corrupt justices of the peace was a favourite Brome theme. Characters like Sir Paul Squelch in The Northern Lass the Middlesex J.P. who sets up a prostitute as his mistress conforms to the stereotype offered here. 'Skirts' here is both a geographical reference to the city and a literal reference to the women residing in that parish and subject to the corrupt justice's sexual whims.
n5914
263Moneylacks [Aside to MONEYLACKS and in SPRING'S hearing] Well said, Jack!
264HoydenLook you sir, thus had I cast†gg4839
summed it up, reckoned it (OED 6c)
it – small acquaintance, pray do you note it too: I love your advice, that at first sight of me, which was but last night, could relieve me from cheaters –
gg4839
265Brittleware [Aside] From some of his own companions, to cheat you more himself.
266HoydenThe first hundred pound to be for the making of me a gentleman: the second hundred shall be for apparel.
267SpringHe speaks half like a gentleman already.
268BrittlewareRight, there’s half disposed of.
269HoydenThe third hundred I’ll spend in pleasure: Whisper[s to SPRING]. Hark, small acquaintance, we’ll have wenches.
270SpringWhat wants he of a gentleman, and go no further, but save the last hundred.
271HoydenOh, small acquaintance, that must walk too: but all for profit to support my gentility hereafter.
272SpringAs how?
273HoydenI will be cheated of it.
274MoneylacksHow?
275HoydenNot in gross†gg4840
total, whole sum
, but by retail†gg4841
the sale of commodities in small quantities
; to try men’s several wits and so learn to shift for myself in time and need be.
gg4840
gg4841
276BrittlewareDo you hear this?
277Coulter There’s a plot now!
278MoneylacksI protest I admire him: I never found like craft†gg4779
cunning, ingenuity
in a yeoman†gg4837
a man holding a small landed estate, one who cultivates his own land, usually of respectable standing
’s son before.
gg4779
gg4837
279HoydenNo words on’t I beseech you, sir; nor name that foolish word yeoman†gg4837
a man holding a small landed estate, one who cultivates his own land, usually of respectable standing
’s son any more. I came to change my copy†gg2349
model, example, master-copy
and write gentleman: and to go the nighest way to work, my small acquaintance here tells me, to go by the heralds*n5915
i.e. to become a gentleman by identifying a lineage and commissioning a coat of arms from the Herald's office
is the farthest way about.
gg4837
gg2349
n5915
280MoneylacksWell, sir, we will take the speediest course for you that may be possible.
281BrittlewareThe season of the year serves most aptly too,
Both for purging and bleeding*n5916
Traditional actions of a barber-surgeon in administering medical advice.
:
n5916
Give your name into this book, sir.
282HoydenTimothy Hoyden†gg3964
a rude, ignorant or awkward fellow; a clown, boor (OED, n; obsolete)
, sir.
gg3964
283Brittleware [Writes]*n11361
SD appears in the right margin (Q).
Timothy Hoyden.
n11361
284HoydenBut must I bleed, sir?
285MoneylacksYes, you must bleed; your father’s blood must out. He was but a yeoman, was he?
286HoydenAs rank a clown, none dispraised*n7188
spoken of in depracating fashion. Tim's use of the term here is a malaproprism since it would suggest that there is no-one quite as despised as his father was in his home county!
as any in Somersetshire.
n7188
287MoneylacksHis foul rank blood of bacon and pease-porridge*n5917
Porridge or stew made from dried peas; also known as pease-pudding. Here, along with bacon, presented as archetypal rural food as opposed to the fine dining enjoyed by a city gentleman and therefore part of the world that Hoyden must reject.
must out of you to the last dram*n7189
i.e. must be drained out of you to the last drop. This again appears to be an embedded reference to theories of medical practice and the circulation of the blood at this time, most obviously linked to the controversial contemporary figure of William Harvey, the king's physician. This line of conversation continues into Spring's response where he assures Tim his blood will be taken out by degrees and his veins replenished with more noble blood.
.
n5917
n7189
288HoydenYou will leave me none in my body then? I shall bleed to death and you go that way to work.
289SpringFear nothing, sir: your blood shall be taken out by degrees, and your veins replenished with pure blood still as you lose the puddle.
290HoydenHow must that be done?
291CoulterAye, that ich I would hear.
292MoneylacksI commend you that you seek reason. It must be done by meats and drinks of costly price*n5918
all of the items Moneylacks lists are also notably deemed to be aphrodisiacs which creates an interesting link with the foodstuffs Rebecca was being persuaded to partake of earlier in the scene.
: muscadel†gg3942
muscadel wine
, caudles†gg78
(cup of) ‘a warm drink consisting of thin gruel, mixed with wine or ale, sweetened and spiced, given chiefly to sick people, esp. women in childbed; also to their visitors’ (OED n. 1a); aphrodisiac
, jellies, and cock-broths†gg79
broth made from a boiled cock; aphrodisiac
. You shall eat nothing but shrimp porridge*n5963
A very extravagant (and expensive) version of porridge.
for a fortnight, and now and then a pheasant’s egg souped†gg3864
i.e. spooned up with
with a peacock’s feather. Ay, that must be the diet.
n5918
gg3942
gg78
gg79
n5963
gg3864
293HoydenDelicate!
294CoulterThis stands to reason indeed. *n5763
This could be delivered as an acerbic aside, but alternatively Coulter could deliver it for all to hear - he has certainly made such openly witty ripostes in Moneylacks's hearing earlier in the scene. This therefore seemed a place in the text where too impositional a stage direction might close down performative possibilities.
n5763
295MoneylacksThen at your going abroad the first air you take shall be of the Asparagus Garden, and you shall feed plentifully of that.
296HoydenOf the air do you mean?
297MoneylacksNo, of the asparagus. And that with a concoction of goat’s milk shall set you on*n7190
an (Q)
end and your blood as high as any
gentleman’s lineally descended from the loins of King Cadwallader*n5919
7th century Welsh king reputed to be the last to have lordship over all Britain.
.
n7190
n5919
298HoydenExcellent; I like all excellently well, but this bleeding. I could never endure the sight of blood.
299MoneylacksThat shows the malignant baseness of your father’s blood within you!
300HoydenI was bewitched, I think, before I was begot to have a clown to my father; yet, sir, my mother said she was a gentlewoman.
301SpringSaid? What will not women say?
302HoydenNay, small acquaintance, she professed it upon her deathbed to the curate and diverse others that she was sister to a gentleman here in this city; and commanded me in her will and upon her blessing first to make myself a gentleman of good fashion and then to go to the gentleman my uncle.
303SpringWhat gentleman is that?
304HoydenI must not, nor I wo’not, tell you that till I am a gentleman myself: would you ha’me wrong the will o’ the dead? Small acquaintance, I will rather die a clown, as I am, first.
305MoneylacksBe content, sir; here’s half a labour saved; you shall bleed but o’ one side: the father’s side only.
306HoydenSay you so?
307MoneylacksThe mother vein shall not be pricked.
308HoydenI thank you, sir; I would ’twere done [at] once.
309MoneylacksBut when this is done, and your new blood infused into you, you shall most easily learn the manners and behaviour.
311BrittlewareAnd all the compliments of an absolute gentleman*n7191
Cf. Henry Peacham, The Compleat Gentleman, first published in 1622, and which went into a third edition in 1634.
.
n7191
313MoneylacksFor which you shall have best instructions;
And may. Yet, if you please, retain your money,
Cross your mother’s will and die a clown.
314HoydenBy no means, sir.
315Coulter [Aside] I begin to believe honestly of the knight.
316MoneylacksDo you note this skin of his here?
317BrittlewareSkin? ’Tis a hide*n5964
i.e. the toughened skin of an animal. The scammers enjoy constructing Hoyden as a kind of beast in this exchange as they discuss bathing and de-fleaing him.
, sir.
n5964
318Hoyden’Tis somewhat thick and foul indeed, sir.
319MoneylacksHe must have a bath and that will be more charge.
320SpringTis pity he should be flead.
321HoydenI thank you, small acquaintance. Pray let me have a bath, what e’er it cost me, rather than flea*n7192
It is just possible that Tim could hear this as 'flay' especially spoken with a strong London accent by Spring, but the sense works literally as well.
me.
n7192
322Money;acksWell, sir, this house shall be your lodging, and this the master of it, an excellent surgeon and expert in these affairs, shall be your attendant.
323HoydenMy man may attend me too, may he not?
324SpringYes, by all means, and see the laying out of your money,
325Coulter [Aside] I like that best: sure they are honest men.
326MoneylacksIs that your man? What, does he wear a coulter†gg3943
iron blade fixed in front of a plough
by his side?
gg3943
327Coulter No sir, my name is Coulter; I myself am a coulter and this is but my hanger on*n5920
a reference to the sword hanging at Coulter's side, about which Moneylacks has made the disparaging reference that it resembles the blade of a plough thereby emphasising Coulter's rural agricultural background.
, as I am my master’s.
n5920
328MoneylacksThou mayest make a country gentleman in time, I see that by thy wit.
329CoulterAll my friends will be glad on’t.
330MoneylacksCome gentlemen, I’ll lead you the way.[All] Ex[it].
2.2*n7428
Scene 2: This scene returns us to Touchwood's residence, seemingly to a space just outside it. Gilbert and Walter have come to put their plot into action, informing Touchwood that Sam, his son, has done exactly what Touchwood demanded of him in the first act - that he cause harm to the Striker family. They state that Samuel has got Annabel pregnant and now intends to eschew all responsibility for his act and escape to the continent to pursue the foreign travels that were a common ambition for comparable young gentlemen of the day. Touchwood's glee is palpable in this scene and adds to the audience's perception of the casual nastiness, spite and violence of 1630s urban society. Once alone again, Touchwood looks forward to taunting his friend, Striker, on this subject: 'Strike Striker's teeth out with his own abuse'. The truth of the two men's relationship is, however, that they depend on each other for the reassuring rhythms of their arguments. We can tell their encounters are part of a regular routine since Touchwood looks for Striker in his 'usual walk'. We also get a glimpse here into the new walking practices of the seventeenth-century capital that have been the focus of recent study (see Newman, 2002). Touchwood has, however, made an oath to Gilbert and Walter not to reveal his knowledge of the pregnancy, so some of the enjoyment of the scene that ensues between Striker and Touchwood is our knowledge of this and our pleasure in watching him struggle to suppress his words (this leads to a plethora of agonised asides). In a quite brilliantly orchestrated scene of verbal sparring (which we might also see as prefiguring the 'fencing with words' scenarios of the later Hoyden scenes) the two men hurl invective at each other in a scene of seeming hatred but which through its one-line stichomythic exchanges and shared rhythms also renders it a kind of love-duet between the two old men. Add to this the potential for physical humour in their encounter and Brome has created a wonderfully rich set-piece, a kind of mock-duel, which gives the audience the tone for the Striker-Touchwood encounters throughout the rest of the play. Once Touchwood finally exits, just about keeping his 'secret' (which we as audience know to be a false belief), Striker delivers a closing soliloquy in which he admits the extent to which his existence is reliant on Touchwood's constant vexation of him, a position they have maintained for some three decades. The phlegm that we have already been told is central to understanding Striker's personality or 'humour' (in the Galenic system of the four humours) has quite literally been released by the duelling with Touchwood, since we see Striker physically overwhelmed by coughing fits throughout the duologue.
n7428
TOUCHWOOD, WALTER, [and] GILBERT [enter].
331TouchwoodBut how can you assure me, gentlemen, that this is true?
332GilbertWe saw’t not acted, sir, nor had reported it,
But on those terms of honour you have sworn to;
In which you are engaged first to forgive
Your son, then never to reveal to friend
Or foe the knowledge of the fact.
333WalterYou cannot now but receive
Your son into your favour that did urge him
To do some outrage, some villanous shame or mischief,
Upon that family as he would shun your curse.
334TouchwoodThis is a mischief with a witness to it*n7193
That is: Annabel's pregnancy and the resulting child will be very visible and tangible proof of Samuel's actions.
;
n7193
335GilbertSir, can a son
Do his father’s will too fully?
336TouchwoodYou may be pleased to call him.WALTER exits
I would now put on an anger, but I fear
My inward joy’s too great to be dissembled:
Now for a rigid brow that might enable
A man to stand competitor for the seat
Of austere justice –
Sam[uel and] Wa[lter] enter.
Are you come to boast
The bravery of your fact, with a dissembled
Show of obedience, as if you had merited
Forgiveness and a blessing; when my shame
For thy lewd action makes me turn and hide
My face – [Turns] Aside [to hide his] laugh[ter]*n5764
Aside and laugh (Q)
for fear my laughter be descried.
n5764
337GilbertPray turn not from him, sir.
338TouchwoodI have heard, sir, of your workmanship, but may
A man receive it on your word for truth?
339SamuelIt is too true unless you please in mercy
To pardon and preserve me from the rigour
Of justice and the sharper censure
That I shall suffer in all good opinion.
340TouchwoodI mean you out o’ the noise on’t presently:
So – [Gives SAMUEL money] there’s a hundred pieces, get you gone.
Provide you for a journey into France,
Bear yourself well, and look you come not home
Pray wear no falling bands and cuffs*n5921
Sleeve details associated with French and continental European fashions
above
n5921
The price of suits and cloaks, lest you become
341SamuelI hope you shall hear well of me.
342TouchwoodAmen.
343SamuelPray bless me, sir.
344TouchwoodMy blessing be upon thee.
Go, get thee gone, my tenderness will show
Itself too womanish else.
345GilbertGoodness of nature.
346WalterWe’ll help to set you forward.[GILBERT, WALTER and SAMUEL] Ex[it].
347TouchwoodThank ye, gentlemen:
Be but my son, thou shalt not want a father;
Though somebody must seek one; ha, ha, ha –
I’d give another hundred pieces now
With all my heart that I might be untongue-tied
And triumph o’er my adversary now
And dash this business in his angry teeth:
Strike Striker’s teeth out with his own abuse.
Perhaps he knows it already; if he does
This is his usual walk
n5922
Another reference to different kinds of walking in this play. It is clear that Striker takes regular recreation in this place and so Touchwood can be assured of meeting his old adversary there. The codependency of the two men is therefore established for the audience despite the physical and verbal rubbish they will go on to throw at each other during the exchange which follows .
.
n5922
.STRIKER [enters, speaking to himself].
348StrikerI was to blame
To give it so much credit at the first,
As to be troubled at it.
349Touchwood [Aside] ’Tis the rascal.
Should gain of fate a lot to see my niece,
Much less a face to ask her for his wife.
351Touchwood [Aside]n5923
The dynamics of this scene depend on the asides and the different interpretations each man has of the exchange. As our workshopping of the scene proved to the delight of the watching audience, there is a a wonderfully achieved rhythm in the dialogue here and its quasi-operatic movement into and out of duet .
Perhaps he’s casting†gg58
devising, contriving (OED cast, 43b); rolling of dice
of his will.
n5923
.gg58
352StrikerYet the vexation that I was but told so
Lies gnawing in my stomach, that until
I vomit it upon that dunghill wretch;
I cannot eat nor sleep to do me good –[Notices TOUCHWOOD]
And I thank chance he’s here.*n5924
In the best tradition of theatrical odd couples these two old men can neither live with nor without each other. Their sense of self is in part defined by and dependent on these regular heated exchanges between them.
n5924
353TouchwoodHe comes, and so have at him.
354StrikerHum, hum, hum, humh.
355TouchwoodAnd ha, ha, ha to thee old puppy*n5925
Though the old men like to think they are being shocking their insults are invariably of a very tame variety.
.
n5925
356StrikerSirrah, sirrah, how dar’st thou keep a son that dares but look upon my niece? There I am wi’ye, sir.
357TouchwoodSirrah, and sirrah to thy withered jaws and down that wrinkled throat of thine: how dar’st thou think a son of mine dares for displeasing me look but with foul contempt upon thy loathed issue?
358StrikerImpudent villain, I have heard he has seen her.
359TouchwoodHas he but seen her?n7206
We experimented at length in the workshopping with how to deliver these asides in which Touchwood struggles to keep in the 'secret' he has been told by Gilbert and Walter earlier in the scene. As the discussions which emerge here between the actors and director Brian Wolland indicate, a key to the scene was also its physicality (the coughing, the circling of each other by the two elderly men) and its use of strategies of impoliteness and mickey-taking .
[Aside]n7202
This is a scene where the potential for asides is crucial to its operations but where the quarto text is very lightly marked in terms of stage directions. While bearing in mind a wish to keep performance options open, workshopping the scene with actors Philip Cumbus (Touchwood) and Alan Morrissey (Striker) really helped to explore the rhythms of asides and which worked best as words to self or direct address to the audience. My annotations and editorial interventions in this section are a direct result of the actors' input on the day and should be seen as a collaborative outcome. One example of the working with asides can be seen here .
ha, ha, ha, I fear I shall out with it*n5926
Touchwood's asides reveal how tempted he is to make full use of his new knowledge about Annabel's pregnancy. The added enjoyment for the audience is that they suspect he too has been fooled by Samuel and his friends.
: I would not be forsworn. I’ll keep it in if I can.
n7206
.n7202
.n5926
360StrikerYes, malapert†gg1276
impudent, saucy
Jack, I have heard that he has seen her, but better hadst thou pissed him ’gainst the wall than he presume to love her: and there I am wi’ye, sir.
gg1276
361TouchwoodHast thou but heard he has seen her? I tell thee thou old booby thou: if he had seen, felt, heard, and understood her, nay, had he got her with child and then left her, he were my son and I would cherish him.
362StrikerDar’st thou speak so, thou old reprobate?
363Touchwood [Aside] Thou dost not hear me say it is so, though I could wish it were with all my heart because I think it would break thine.
364StrikerHugh, hugh, hugh.Cough[s]*n5928
The workshopping of this scene with Alan Morrissey in the role of Striker helped us to realise how powerful the coughing actions are in the scene. They are a visual (and aural) signal of the physical as well as mental release that the exchange with Touchwood gives the old man. He confirms as much in the next scene with Friswood in which he describes Touchwood as his 'physician'.
.
n5928
365Touchwood [Aside] I hope I shall keep it within the compass of mine oath; yet there was a touch for himn7207
This was a point at which we workshopped the notion of there needing to be a physical catalyst for Striker's coughing in this scene (so visible in the stage directions which the quarto does choose to include) .
.
n7207
.
366StrikerOh, thou hell-bred rascal thou; hugh, hugh.Cough[s] and spit[s].
367TouchwoodSo, so, up with it: lungs, lights, liver and all; choke up, in a churl’s†gg1185
a countryman, often used contemptuously of a low-bred villain, especially (since Jonson's Every Man out of his Humour, first performed 1599) referring to a grain-hoarder, who withheld grain from the market, driving up the price and causing great hardship among the poor (hence the curse of weeds in the field choking out the grain)
name.
gg1185
368StrikerHugh, hugh.
369Touchwood [Aside] I have put him into these fits forty times at least, and not without hope it will throttle*n5765
thratle (Q)
him at last – [To STRIKER] if you do break a gut or a rib or two with straining, a rope will be your only remedy: and so I leave you. [Makes to leave but then returns] By the way, you have not heard me say that I know anything by*n7194
about
your niece . . . but what I know I’ll keep to myself.
n5765
n7194
370StrikerAnd hang thyself, I care not what thou knowest . . . yet thus far take me wi’ye, sirn5929
Workshopping this scene brought to our attention the underlying rhythm of the sequence that meant that Striker could not quite bear to leave the conversation at this point; our actors realised this in a physical turning and crossing towards each other at various stages in the action .
?
n5929
.
371TouchwoodNot a step, unless I were sure I were going to the devil, huh, huh. No, sirn7208
In another brilliant set of interpretations we can witness Philip Cumbus (Touchwood) and Alan Morrissey (Striker) pushing the exchange to its physical and verbal limits, using shouting, comedy, physical action - not least the coughing fit- to consistently punctuate and sometimes dramatically shift the rhythm and register of the scene .
, you shall not trip me. You shall not fetch it out of me. Tush, my son’s my son, and keep your niece to yourself, huh, and if she has anything of his you may keep that
too, huh; and so choke up again with all my heart, and much good do it you*n5965
Usually a form of well wishing at a meal or repast.
.[TOUCHWOOD] Exit[s].
n7208
. n5965
372StrikerHuh, huh – hem! So he’s gonen7203
Striker's soliloquy at this point is one of several moments in the play when a particular character takes the audience into his/her confidence. This is the moment when Striker reveals his absolute dependence on his arch-enemy Touchwood for a sense of self and for a certain sustaining rhythm in his life . The actors discussed this relationshop with real insight during the course of the workshop, a nice example of which is included here .
. The villain’s gone in hope that he has killed me when my comfort is he has recovered me*n5930
Striker's brief soliloquy at the close of this brilliantly crafted scene confirms the sense of interdependence our actors identified in these characters. As Striker will reveal in subsequent lines they have effectively been a couple for thirty years and it is clear that the relationship with Touchwood has compensated for the loss of his wife (with whom he also clearly had a vexatious relationship). In a manner akin to Shakespeare's warring lovers such as Benedick and Beatrice in Much Ado About Nothing or Katherine and Petruccio in The Taming of a Shrew while the surface of their lines is all conflict and invective, the underlying rhythm of the scene is connectedness. This is achieved here mostly through the quickfire banter of stichomythia though another common early modern theatrical strategy would be to deploy shared verse lines to indicate the underlying chemistry acoustically to the audience.
. I was heart-sick with a conceit which lay so mingled with my phlegm†gg3966
one of the four humours, an excess of which in the body was supposed to induce apathy
that I had perished if I had not broke it and made me spit it out; hemh, ’tis gone, and I’ll home merrily.
n7203
. The actors discussed this relationshop with real insight during the course of the workshop, a nice example of which is included here .n5930
gg3966
I would not that he should know the good he has done me
For half my estate; nor would I be at peace with him
To save it all. His malice works upon me,
Past all the drugs and all the doctor’s counsels
That e’er I coped with. He has been my vexation
These thirty years; nor have I had another
E’er since my wife died. If the rascal knew’t,
He would be friends and I were instantly
But a dead man. I could not get another
To anger me so handsomely.[STRIKER exits]
2.3*n7426
Scene 3: There is a strange dramatic issue of a timelag here between Striker's closing soliloquy in the previous scene and his arrival back at his own household where Friswood awaits him. The implication appears to be that he exits the stage and then re-enters with the audience understanding that he has been walking the city streets homewards in the interim moments. Striker repeats his revelations of the soliloquy in his comments to Friswood about feeling light at heart after the encounter with Touchwood even describing its effects in medical and physiological terms - Touchwood is his 'dog-leech' and his 'physician'.
Friswood seizes the moment to 'reveal' Annabel's pregnancy to Striker. Immediately he declares that he will cast his granddaughter out on the street but Friswood stays him via an act of recuperative memory. She reminds him (and in turn fills in further backstory for the audience) that he did just that to his own sister some thirty years previously when she became pregnant before marriage (the thirty year timeline will immediately link to the Touchwood-Striker feud in the audience's mind at this point). In an inset narrative Friswood describes how Audrey Striker was sent away heavily pregnant and has not been heard of since and how Striker appropriated her dowry in the process. She urges him not to do the same to Annabel and, to make doubly sure, she threatens to expose his sexual relationship with her if he does so, making public his 'foul incontinence' to the world. In a brief soliloquy at the end of the scene Friswood confides in the audience that she hopes she has done enough to quell Striker's rage. Her moment of confiding recalls that by other Brome heroines including Trainwell, Holdup and Fitchow in The Northern Lass and creates a level of empathy with her position that is important in the unfolding action.
n7426
FRISWOOD [and] STRIKER [enter].
373FriswoodYou are welcome home, sir.*n5767
Friswood's opening line here is an indicator of a change of scene to Striker's residence, the previous exchange with Touchwood having taken place somewhere outside, where we are informed Striker takes his usual walk.
n5767
374StrikerAnd merrily too, Fid. Hemh, light at heart.*n5768
Much of this scene is set out as verse in the printed version although there seems less internal justification for this shift from the mostly prosaic register of the play at this point than is usual in Brome. Caroline dramas are notoriously varied in their patterns of prose and verse in print and I have taken the decision here where the verse appeared to break up and confuse the sense of what was being said (particularly with Friswood's lines) to retabulate them as prose.
n5768
I met with my physician, dog-leech Touchwood*n5931
Continuing the sense of the previous scene, Striker's implication here is that Touchwood and the tetchy exchanges with him actually keep him in good health. He therefore compares Touchwood to a doctor and to a dog-leech which would commonly have been used in purging exercises. This in turn reminds the audience of the recent scene featuring Tim Hoyden and all the threats of bleeding and purging there. Brome is a master of the internal echo in this way that enables audiences to keep hold of multiple plot-strands.
,
n5931
And cleared my stomach, and now I am light at heart.
And thou shalt hear on’t, Fid, anon perhaps.
375FriswoodYou are the better able then to hear
And bear what I must tell you.
376StrikerWhere’s my niece?
How does she, ha?
377FriswoodAs well as a young woman
In her case may do, sir.
378StrikerHa! How’s that?
379Friswood ’Twill out, and I as fit to tell you as another.
380StrikerOut with it then!
381Friswood’Tis true, I faced you down there was no league
Between young Touchwood and your niece, in hope
To turn her heart from him before the knowledge
Of anything that past should be a grief to you:
But since I have discovered ’tis too late
And she can be fit bride for no man else.
382StrikerHe has not lain with her, has he?
383FriswoodYou speak as just as German’s lips*n7195
Proverbial saying; German's lips were held to be a by-word for truth and reliability (Tilley, G87) (McClure, p. 408).
.
n7195
384StrikerI hope he has not lipped*n5933
Compare 'Leap her! I lip her' in Ben Jonson, The New Inn 3.2.116.
†gg3945
leaped (with a sexual connotation)
her so:
n5933
gg3945
Prithee, what canst thou mean?
385FriswoodSir, if you think the knowledge of a truth of this sad nature may prejudice your health by drawing a choleric†gg3946
having choler as the predominant humour; being of bilious temperament
fit into you you were best to send for your physician, your dog-leech Touchwood*n7196
Frsiwood's repetition of Striker's earlier phrases also serves to imprint them on the audience's memory.
, as you called him, to break your bed of phlegm*n5934
Phlegm was one of the four humours, an excess of which in the body was supposed to induce apathy. We have quite literally seen Touchwood breaking Striker's 'bed of phlegm' in the coughing fit of the previous scene.
by laughing at you.*n5769
Here I have retabulated the lines from verse to prose for clarity since some of the verse line breaks broke up words and therefore sense.
gg3946
n7196
n5934
n5769
386StrikerWhat dost thou mean now? I have asked thee twice.
387FriswoodI say young Touchwood has touched and clapped†gg3947
literally affected with the clap (i.e. a sexual disease), but also seduced sexually
your niece;
gg3947
And (which is worse) with scorn and foul disdain
Has left and quite forsaken; and is gone:
They say sent by his father to travel*n5770
The sense is straightfroward but the early modern spelling 'travail' did allow for an additional sense of a journey of hardship caused by Samuel's (supposed) action in getting Annabel pregnant.
.
n5770
388Striker’Twas this the villain hammered on today,
When he spoke mystically*n7197
literally 'in a mystical manner' but Striker's reference here is to Touchwood's oblique references to this matter in their previous encounter in this act the full import and meaning of which have only now become clear to him.
, doubtful words
n7197
Reflecting on this mischievous sense? Hell, hell, hell.
389Friswood’Twere good you would forsake the thought of hell, sir,
And think upon some timely course to save
Her credit and the honour of your house by marriage.
390StrikerYou counsel very well;
But were you privy in their love’s affair?
391FriswoodIndeed, I knew too much on’t: think of a course, good sir.
392StrikerI know no course for her and you but one,
Young whore and bawd, and that is instantly
To pack you out of doors to seek your living,
And there I will be wi’ye.
393FriswoodSir, that you must not.
394Striker’Sprecious*n7198
One of many strange oaths in the play, this one presumably being a foreshortening of 'God's precious [things?]'.
, dost thou must me in mine own house?
n7198
395FriswoodIn your own house, sir. Kill us if you please,
And take the sin upon you; but out of it
You must not dare to thrust us with your shame:
Which I will so divulge as you shall find
Your house to be no sanctuary for yourself;
And there I’ll be with you.
397FriswoodConsider wisely that I know you, sir,
And can make foul relation of some passages†gg2169
progresses, transitions from one state to another (OED passage n, 3a); episodes, events (OED passage n, 14)
gg2169
That you will shame to hear.
398StrikerHold your peace.
399FriswoodRemember sir, near thirty years ago*n5935
also the timeline of the Touchwood -Striker quarrel so once again a sense of codependency is given historical and psychological justification.
,
n5935
You had a sister whose great marriage portion†gg1143
dowry (monies, goods or lands brought by the wife to augment her husband’s estate on their marriage)
gg1143
Was in your hands. Good gentlewoman, she
Unfortunately loving a false squire,
You know, sir, what I mean.
400StrikerYou’ll hold your peace?
401FriswoodI’ll speak it though I die for’t. Better here
Than in a worse place. So clapped†gg3947
literally affected with the clap (i.e. a sexual disease), but also seduced sexually
I say she was,
gg3947
I know not yet by whom – you do and bear
An inward grudge against somebody to this hour for’t –
But to my story: good gentlewoman she
Was by your most unbrotherly cruel usage
Thrust out o’ doors as now you threaten us:
And, miserably big-bellied as she was,
Leaving her most unjustly, [you] detained her portion†gg1143
dowry (monies, goods or lands brought by the wife to augment her husband’s estate on their marriage)
gg1143
In your false hands. [She] forsook you and the town
To fly the air where her disgrace was spread.
Some jewels and some gold she had concealed,
Nor did you ever care, but wished her out on’t
By any desperate end after her flight,
From portion†gg1143
dowry (monies, goods or lands brought by the wife to augment her husband’s estate on their marriage)
, blood and name; and so perhaps
gg1143
Immediately she was. For which, this judgement
Is justly fallen upon you.
402StrikerYet hold thy peace.
403FriswoodNeither by threats, nor bribes, nor all persuasion,
Until you take your niece into your care:
What will the world say when it hears this story
Of your own natural sister and your cruelty
When you shall second it with your niece’s shame?
Old bullion trunks*n5941
Striker's clothing is presumably somewhat old-fashioned. There is the additional bawdy implication here that what is contained within his trunks is also old coinage (bullion being gold and silver in its lumpen form). The clothing expert Jenny Tiramini observed, in a workshop for the project, Brome's persistent use of slightly antiquated modes of tying trousers or clothing as a means of indicating to the audience old-fashioned views or attitudes on the part of the character and this is a useful instance of that. Presumably Striker would be dressed in the rather full legged trousers that were considered antiquated by a Caroline court with a penchant for tight lacing and clothes that displayed the figure (for both male and female courtiers).
over my truckle-bed†gg3956
a low bed running on castors and usually pushed beneath a higher bed when not in use, often used by servants or children
*n5942
This image of Striker looming over the bed of his female servant is both repulsive and sexually threatening. The implication is that he had her sleep in a trucklebed possibly beneath his own to enable easy access to her in the night. The play is replete with suggestions and implications about the sexual relationship he has enjoyed with Friswood throughout her time of employment and even during his wife's lifetime.
.
n5941
gg3956
n5942
406StrikerThou art not desperate? Wilt thou shame thyself?
407FriswoodI value neither shame, nor name, nor fame;
And wealth I have none to lose. You have enough
To pay for all, I take it?
408StrikerOh, I am sick.
409FriswoodBe of good cheer, I’ll send for your physician.
410StrikerSick, sick at heart; let me be had to bed.[STRIKER] Exit[s].
411FriswoodI hope I have laid the heat of his severity.
So sometimes great offences pass for none,
When severe judges dare not hear their own.[FRISWOOD] Ex[its].
Edited by Julie Sanders