ACT FIVE
5.1*n8575
] ACT. V. Scene I.
*n8573
Like Act 2, Act 5 consists of one long scene in a single location, in this case the ordinary itself. The scene opens with an extended comic sequence in which Magdalen and Jane fulfil their ambition to come to the ordinary and learn about French behaviour and fashions. By this point in the play Magdalen, who has been accustomed to relatively thrifty living, is rather enjoying the introduction to the beau-monde that events have given her. While Alice is in on the plot and knows Frances’ true nationality and gender, Jane probably knows only what Alice has told her – that Frances teaches deportment and fashionable behaviour. The sequence is broken by the appearance of Wat, who after the indignities to which he was subjected in Act 4 is having second thoughts about Dryground’s scheme. The exchange with Magdalen and the other women culminates as Magdalen swoons and its taken off stage, accompanied by the bottle of wine from which she has been drinking throughout the scene. The scene is then set for the final revelations – of identity, allegiance and redemption – which are carefully stage-managed by Dryground and, especially, Valentine. Eventually, all of the play’s four fathers will be on stage simultaneously, and all of the younger generation. The only character not to appear in this scene is Trebasco, and it is possible that his role was doubled with another, perhaps that of Wat. (For further discussion of casting, see the Introduction.)
Dramaturgically, this is another of Brome’s large-scale scenes, but whereas the long scene in Act 2 created an ebb and flow among its characters as they exited and entered, here the energy builds towards the final conglomeration of characters on the stage.
[Enter] FRANCES, MAGDALEN, JANE, [and] ALICE.*n8576
Frances, Magdalen, Jane, Alice.
Wine on a table
864FrancesTrès bien venue, Mesdames.*n8585
] TRes bien venue Madames.
n8577
This is Frances’ most sustained performance as a ‘demoiselle’, and it has the same pattern of phonetic spellings to indicate the accent and snippets of French dialogue as the sequence in Act 3 in which she encounters Oliver. In terms of the play’s narrative, Frances is a young man impersonating a woman, and in the workshop on this scene we experimented with some different casting patterns available to us with our cast of two men and two women. In this reading of the sequence up to the entrance of Wat and Dryground after speech 911 [DM 5.1.speech911], Frances’s part is read by Hannah Watkins, in this version it is read by Joseph Thompson, and in this extract it is read by Alan Morrissey. These clips are in chronological order, and it is possible to see one actor picking up and developing details of performance from another’s reading. The original all-male casting would lend a greater plausibility to the cross-dressed character, as an audience would be conditioned to accept a character played by a male actor as female. This precise effect was not available on the day of the workshop, and instead we have a kind of gender-blind casting: in the first extract, Frances is played by a woman, and Alice and Jane are played by men; in the others Frances and Jane are played by men. It is nonetheless possible to see different effects that casting a man or a woman as Frances might create, and the different effects that actors of the same sex might achieve. See notes on the lines below for further comment on specific details of the scene.
In some ways, the sequence’s closest analogue is the ‘Spanish Lady’ scene in Act 4 of Jonson’s The Devil is an Ass (King’s Men, 1616), in which a young man, Wittipol, impersonates a woman who claims to be able to instruct the women of London in the use of cosmetics. It is therefore possible that an audience member who knew Jonson’s play may have begun to wonder about Frances’s true gender at this point. For further discussion, see the Introduction.
You are very welcome.n8578
(You are) very welcome, ladies (French); Frances translates her own words in the second half of the line. In this extract from the workshop on this scene, Joseph Thompson (reading Frances) experiments with a wavering French accent, saying the first half of the line with a French accent and the second half with an English accent.
865MagdalenGood†gg5382
an exclamation along the same lines as ‘good heavens!’ or ‘good grief!’
lack! And is it you, Mistress Alice? Is’t possible? Are you come to learn
carriage†gs1494
bodily deportment, the correct ways of moving/behaving
too?
I will make bold with*n8579
Make free with, take the liberty (to drink).
t’other glass of wine.n8580
Magdalen drinks regularly throughout the sequence, and various bits of physical business might be added to heighten the comedy. In this extract from the workshop on this scene, Alice (Hannah Watkins) and Jane (Alan Morrissey) attempt to water down the wine, and later take the glass away from Magdalen; see also this extract for another example, this time with Joseph Thompson playing Jane, in which the two younger women hover anxiously, waiting for their chance to take the glass.
At a word,†gs1347
to speak plainly, to be honest (can also mean ‘in short’ or ‘briefly’)
I like your French
carriage†gs1495
behaviour (OED n, 14a)
the better, that it allows elder women to drink wine.
866AliceThey have no other drink, except water. And maids are allowed but that.
867JaneAnd young wives (they say) wine with their water.
868MagdalenMingle†gg5609
mix, blend
your glass, then, daughter.
This*n8581
i.e. the glass of undiluted wine.
for me. Your father has so sought you, Mistress Alice.
869JaneMy father has missed us too, by this time.
870MagdalenBut neither of ’em
can dream French enough*n8582
Either (1) can speak enough French, or (2) have enough interest in French things.
to direct ’em
hither,†gg1268
here (to this place)
I
warrant†gg859
assure, promise
you. And does she learn the carriages very well,
Madam-silly?*n8583
A mispronunciation of Mademoiselle, which Frances corrects in the next line.
871FrancesMademoiselle, s’il vous plaît.n8586
Mademoiselle, if you please (French). See this extract from the workshop for an example of the way in which Frances might correct Magdalen.
*n8584
] Madamoyselle, si vous plaist
872MagdalenWhat do ye call ’t? I shall never hit it. How do you
find†gs1496
regard (OED v, 6a)
your scholar?
873FrancesOh, she is very good.
She learn very well.*n8587
The non-standard grammar here suggests that Frances continues to speak with a strong French accent.
874MagdalenBut how much carriage hath she learned? Hark you, Mistress Alice.
Have you not learned to carry†gg5610
succeed in obtaining (OED v, 15a); manage (OED 22a); bear up (as in sexual intercourse) (Williams, 1: 207-8)
a man?n8588
There is a heavy sexual innuendo in Magdalen’s speech here, which is picked up and intensified by Frances. See this extract from the workshop, in which Jenny McEvoy reads Magdalen.
Has not a good husband stol’n you hither? I can think
waggishly,†gg5611
in a waggish (mischievous or wanton) manner
I tell you, and
an old ape has an old eye.*n8258
This is a proverbial expression (Tilley A272); it also appears in William Rowley’s A Match at Midnight (Revels Company, c. 1622) and Robert Chamberlain’s The Swaggering Damsel (Beeston’s Boys, c. 1639).
Go to.†gs1497
an exhortation, equivalent to ‘come, come’ (OED go v, 93b)
875AliceNo such
matter,†gs1498
thing, affair
Mistress Bumpsey.
877MagdalenI ask you how much carriage she has learned?n8589
In this extract from the workshop on this scene, Magdalen (read by Jenny McEvoy) assumes that Frances’s ‘What is that you say?’ means that she does not speak very much English, and she therefore says this line very slowly and clearly.
879MagdalenHow say by that? Is’t possible? Can she carry both her hands in one day?
880FrancesYes, and before tomorrow
she shall carry the foot as well.*n8592
That is: she shall position her foot correctly too. This carries a strong sexual innuendo, as the English word ‘foot’ sounds very like the French word foutre, which has the slang meaning of ‘to fuck’; compare the language lesson scene in Shakespeare’s Henry V (Chamberlain’s Men, 1599), in which Princess Katherine is informed by Alice, her waiting woman, that the English for pieds (feet) and robe (gown) are ‘De foot ... et de cown’ (Alice mispronounces ‘gown’ in a way that makes it sound like con, the French word for ‘cunt’). Katherine replies, ‘De foot et de cown? O Seigneur Dieu! Ils sont les mots de son mauvais, corruptible, gros, et impudique, et non pour les dames d’honneur d’user. Je ne voudrais prononcer ces mots devant les seigneurs de France pour tout le monde’ (3.4.47-52) (‘De foot and de cown? O Lord God, they are words with the most wicked, corrupting, gross and impudent sound, and not for ladies of honour to use. I would not say these words before the lords of France for all the world’). See [NOTE n8591] for commentary on the potential of this innuendo in performance.
881MagdalenIt seems, then, you teach
handling†gg5614
touching, feeling (OED n, 1a); see also Williams, 2: 642-3, who quotes Shakespeare, Measure for Measure (King’s Men, c. 1604), in which Escalus proposes to question Isabella, ‘You shall see how I’ll handle her’, to which Lucio responds, ‘Not better than he, by her own report’ (5.1.270-1)
before footing†gs1500
dancing (OED n, 2) and by extension other physical interaction; the stable positioning of the feet (OED n, 4a); Williams (3: 1236) notes that in The Family of Love (King’s Revels, c. 1607; published London, 1608), Master Purge, fearing his wife’s adultery, says, ‘I scent your footing, wife’ (sig. F1r); see also Williams 1: 525-6 on the associations between the word ‘foot’ and sexual intercourse
*n8593
Magdalen hammers home the sexual innuendo in Frances’s words.
in your French way.
882FrancesYou may learn
dat*n8595
That (said with a strong French accent).
of
de leetle shild.*n8596
The little child (said with a strong French accent).
De leetle shild, you see, will handle
de ting,*n8597
The thing (said with a strong French accent, and heavy sexual innuendo).
before it can set one foot to
de*n8598
The (said with a strong French accent).
ground. Come, let me see you make a
reverence.†gs1501
a gesture indicative of respect: here a curtsy (OED n, 2)
884Frances’Tis dat you call a curtsy. Let me see you make curtsy.
886FrancesOh, fee, fee—
dat is de gross†gs1448
‘brutally lacking in refinement or decency’ (OED a, 15)
English douck,n8601
Duck: ‘An instantaneous lowering of head or body; a rapid jerky bow or obeisance’ (OED n2, 2); Magdalen may look rather like a duck as she curtsies: see this extract from the workshop on this scene for an example of how it might be performed. See also William Cavendish and James Shirley, The Variety (King’s Men, 1641; published in The Country Captain and the Variety, Two Comedies Written by a Person of Honour, London, 1649), in which the French dancing master, Galliard, denounces Lucy’s reverence. When she protests, ‘’Tis the French fashion as you taught me, Monsieur’, he replies, ‘Oui, ’tis de French fashion, but de French fashion is always to change, and dis reverence displease a me very mush, because you go back, back vid your buttock, as if some vod take you by dat, to vat me vil give a no name’ (sig. C6r)
*n8599
That is the gross English duck (said with a strong French accent).
for de
swag-buttocked-wife†gg5615
‘having large swaying buttocks’ (OED, swag-belly)
of de peasant.
887MagdalenHow like you this then?
[She curtsies.] There’s a reverence, I
warrant†gg859
assure, promise
you.
888FrancesFee, dat is worse.
See how you carry†gs1499
hold, position
de hands like de comedien*n8603
actor (French)
dat act de shangling.n8602
That is: you carry the hands like the comedian [actor] that acts the changeling (said with a strong French accent). This may be a reference to the performance of one of two plays: Thomas Middleton and William Rowley’s The Changeling, first performed by Lady Elizabeth’s Men in 1622 but revived in 1635 (see John R. Elliott, Jr., ‘Four Caroline Playgoers’, Medieval and Renaissance Drama in England 6 [1993], 179-93 [192]), in which Antonio poses as a changeling, or Brome’s own play The English Moor, performed by Queen Henrietta Maria’s Men 1637, in which Buzzard poses as the changeling Timsy (the ‘comedian’ in this case was Timothy Reade, who probably appeared in The Demoiselle). The ‘changeling’ in both of these plays is a character who is posing as someone who is cognitively/intellectually disabled. On the title page of The Wits (1662), a figure labelled ‘Changeling’ appears among other dramatis characters (Falstaff, Bubble from Greene’s Tu Quoque, etc.) [IMAGEEM_4_1]. He may be Buzzard or Antonio, and both of his hands are limp at the wrist: this may be how Brome envisaged Magdalen holding her hands as she curtsies. See these extracts from the workshop, in which Magdalen holds her hands in this manner, curtsying with enormous concentration, and Joseph Thompson and Alan Morrissey, reading Frances, imitate in varying ways the ‘comedian that acts the changeling’
890AliceTake heed she does not take too much.
891JaneI hope she will not. But there’s no
crossing†gg1418
thwarting, opposing, or contravening (OED vbl n, 8)
her.
893MagdalenThere they be. They have been a little too
familiar†gs1502
friendly, over-intimate
with
sea-coal†gg5617
mineral coal (coal in the usual sense), as distinguished from charcoal (OED sea-coal n, 2a)
fires, and much other
coarse†gg2366
rough, unrefined
housewifery,†gg3906
management of household affairs, housekeeping (OED 1); thrift, economy (OED 1b)
which I shall utterly abhor and wash off when I have learnt to carry them
courtly.†gs1503
in a polished or refined manner (as befitting the court)
But shall I ever do it, think you?
895MagdalenI may
win†gg2242
persuade, prevail upon (OED win v1, 9a)
my husband
to love me courtly then.*n8607
i.e. to make love to me (to woo me or to have sex with me) in a courtly fashion.
896FrancesTo love and lie†gs152
sleep with, have sex with
with you courtly.n8608
Frances again makes the innuendo in Magdalen’s speech explicit; in this extract from the workshop on this scene Joseph Thompson (reading Frances) creates intimacy with Magdalen in this line, which suggests the potential pathos of her reply.
897MagdalenThat’s but seldom,*n8610
This suggests that courtiers probably don’t make love to their wives very often; this may also be Magdalen’s wistful comment on the state of her own sex life.
I
doubt.†gs1505
fear
898FrancesYou shall know all de ways to win his love,
Or any man’s, to
multiply†gs1506
increase, augment
your honour.
899MagdalenI will so multiply, then.*n8609
Magdalen repeats Frances’s ‘multiply’, but it picks up an additional meaning, ‘breed’ or ‘cause (a family, population, etc.) to increase in numbers by reproduction or procreation’ (OED v, 3a).
900FrancesNot only in your looks, your smiles and sweet caresses,†gg5619
‘an action of endearment, a fondling touch or action, a blandishment’ (OED)
n8611
At this point Frances takes control of the sequence, as she talks Magdalen through various skills and techniques. See these extracts from the workshop on this scene, in which Frances (read by Joseph Thompson and Alan Morrissey) physically moves Magdalen around the stage.
Besides the help of
painting†gs1507
cosmetics
that adorn
The face, but with the
motion†gs1508
movement (with sexual innuendo); step, gesture
of each
lineament†gg5620
contour, outline (OED 2)
Of the whole
frame†gs1509
structure
of your
well-ordered†gg5621
‘exhibiting good order; rightly regulated; carefully arranged; following good lines of conduct or procedure’ (OED a, 1)
body.
An eye, a lip, a finger shall not move,
A toe trip
unregarded,†gg5622
unseen, without being looked at
but your
geat*n8612
Gait: way of moving (said with a strong French accent: this is the octavo’s spelling).
And your whole graceful presence shall attract
(Beyond affection) admiration,
As I’ll artifice†gg5623
‘make or shape by artifice; to apply artifice to; to construct, contrive’ (OED)
you.
901MagdalenI’ll be a nymph.†gg5624
semi-divine spirit in classical mythology, often the spirit of a river, tree, etc. (OED n1, 1); a slang term for a prostitute (OED n1, 2a); damsel, maiden (OED n1, 2b)
[Sing[s]] *n8614
] [sing.]; in the octavo the stage direction is placed in the right hand margin
‘Diana and her darlings, dear, dear, dear’, etc.n8613
The first line of a ballad titled ‘A New Sonnet, Showing How the Goddess Diana Transformed Acteon into the Shape of a Hart’. The earliest extant copy (London, 1650), specifies the tune ‘Rogero’, which has not been traced. The opening lines read: ‘Diana and her darlings dear / went walking on a day / Throughout the woods and waters clear, / for their disport and play’. See Wood, ‘Music in Caroline Plays’, vol. 2, Appendix 1, 450. An alternative version of the lyric, titled ‘The History of Diana and Acteon’ can be found in Clement Robinson’s A Handful of Pleasant Delights (London, 1584), sig. B4r-6r. For the effect of these sung lines see these extracts from the workshop on this scene, in which Jenny McEvoy (reading Magdalen) improvises a tune for the lyric for the first two lines of the ballad.
But may I paint,†gg5625
use cosmetics
say you?
902FrancesOh, most allowably;†gg5626
excusably, legitimately
Nay, commendably.†gg5627
laudably
*n8615
] this appears as one line in the octavo
903MagdalenT’other glass for that.*n8616
i.e. I’ll drink to that. Magdalen apparently drinks again at this point. See [NOTE n8580] for further comment on these moments.
904FrancesThen for the art of
dressing,†gs1510
getting dressed, or elaborately arranging the hair
setting forth†gg5629
arranging in a certain manner, laying out (set v1, 144a (c)); adorning, decorating (set v1, 144g); exhibiting, displaying (set v1, 144j)
Head, face, neck, breast, with which I will inspire you
To cover or discover any part
Unto de best advantage.
To hide shame, or show all:*n8620
i.e. either hide embarrassing features, or display everything
that’s her meaning.
906FrancesYou shall have no defect
perceived,†gg5630
seen, detected
no
grace†gs1511
‘attractive or pleasing quality or feature’ (OED n, 2a)
concealed.
907MagdalenI am for the naked neck and shoulders, then.*n8621
That is: I am in favour of wearing a garment with a low neck so as to display the neck and shoulders. A low neck-line was fashionable in the 1630s: see, for example, Gilbert Jackson, A Lady of the Grenville Family and her Son (1640), Tate Britain.
For (I tell you, Mistress) I have a white skin
And a round straight neck, smooth and plump shoulders,
Near ’em, though I say’t.
908Frances’T has been suggested by invective†gg5631
abusive, vituperative (OED a, 1)
men,n8623
This speech is rather different in its effect from the previous exchange with Magdalen, as Frances broadens her argument about fashion to examine the origins of masculine stylistic affectations. As Joseph Thompson pointed out in the workshop on this sequence, it is structured rather like the routine of a stand-up comic, as different styles of dress are described and then insulted, with Frances perhaps picking out members of the audience as she speaks. Some of the fashions described are Jacobean rather than Caroline, conjuring the vision of a man of fifty still wearing the ‘long silk hose’ and short breeches of his youth. In this extract from the workshop, Alan Morrissey, reading Frances, makes use of the preceding discussion, picking out for Magdalen’s benefit men in the audience who might be wearing a fringe (‘brow-locks’) for various underhand reasons. Brome utilises this quasi-stand-up technique elsewhere, notably in The New Academy, in which Galliard’s long speech [NA 4.2.speech990] similarly focuses on issues of fashion: see [NOTE n6941] for discussion and extracts from the workshop on that sequence. The speech also parodies the tendency that Farah Karim-Cooper notes in anti-cosmetic tracts to reduce women ‘in long lists, to the parts of their bodies or the accoutrements that they might attach to their frames’ (Cosmetics in Shakespearean and Renaissance Drama [Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2006], 113); for further discussion see the Introduction.
Women, to
justify†gg5632
vindicate
themselves that way,
Began that fashion. As
on*n8624
] one
t’other side,
The fashion of men’s brow-locks*n8625
i.e. wearing a fringe or bangs.
was perhaps
Devised out of necessity to hide
All
ill-graced†gg5633
unattractive
forehead, or besprinkled with
The outward symptoms of some inward†gs1512
inner; intimate
grief,*n8626
This refers to lesions in the skin (chancres), which are a symptom of syphilis.
As, formerly, the
saffron-steeped linen,*n8627
Linen collars dyed with yellow starch were fashionable in the 1610s and 1620s; interestingly, as Ann Rosalind Jones and Peter Stallybrass note, references to yellow starch recur in texts of the 1650s (the period when many of Brome’s plays, including The Demoiselle, were first printed) attacking James I, which draw on its association with the scandalous murder of Sir Thomas Overbury and with Ann Turner, who was hanged in November 1615 for her complicity in the murder. Turner wore a yellow collar and cuffs to her execution, and was widely (and erroneously) credited with having introduced the technique into England. See Renaissance Clothing and the Materials of Memory (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 59-85.
By some great man
found useful against vermin,*n8628
Saffron was supposed to keep parasites away from clothes; Jones and Stallybrass quote Fynes Moryson on the poor folk of Ireland who, he writes, wore shirts ‘coloured with saffron to avoid lowsiness, incident to the wearing of foul linen’ (Renaissance Clothing and the Materials of Memory, 67).
Was
ta’en†gg2156
taken
up for a fashionable
wearing.†gs1513
style of clothing
Some lord that
was no niggard of*n8629
not stingy with
his beauty
Might
bring up†gg5634
bring into fashion (OED bring v, 27c)
narrow brims*n8630
i.e. on a hat
to
publish†gg5635
announce, proclaim
it;
Another, to obscure his, or perhaps
To hide defects thereof, might bring up broad
ones,*n8631
i.e. brims
As,
questionless,†gg5636
unquestionably
the straight,
neat-timbered†gg5637
well-built
leg
First wore
the tronks*n8632
Trunks (said with a strong French accent).
and long silk-hose.*n8633
These are short trunks worn with long silk stockings, revealing the leg. See William Larkin’s George Villiers, 1st Duke of Buckingham (c. 1616), National Portrait Gallery, London.
As likely
The
baker-knees,†gg5638
deformities of the legs (e.g. knock knees) that bakers were supposedly prone to (OED baker 5); in Pus-Mantia, the Mag-Astro-Mancer, or, The Magical-Astrological-Diviner Posed and Puzzled (London, 1652), John Gaule writes that ‘loose-kneed, signifies lascivious, and baker-kneed, effeminate’ (p. 186)
or some strange
shamble-shanks,†gg5639
someone with deformed or ill-shaped legs
Begat the ankle-breeches.†gg5640
breeches covering the whole of the legs
*n8634
Compare James Shirley, The Gentleman of Venice (Queen Henrietta Maria’s Men, 1639 [possibly premiered in Dublin c. 1637]; published London, 1655), in which Malipiero castigates ‘men / Of state, who hide their warp’t legs in long gowns, / And keep their wisdom warm in furs like agues’ (sig. C7r).
Took that
conceit†gs1063
conception, notion, idea
from us. What woman
shows†gg5641
displays; displays ‘deliberately or ostentatiously in order to attract notice or win admiration’ (OED v, 8a)
A leg that’s not a good one?*n8635
The erotic potential of female legs in the Caroline period is suggested in texts such as Robert Herrick’s ‘The Vision’: ‘Her legs were such Diana shows, / When tucked up she a-hunting goes; / With buskins shortened to descry / The happy dawning of her thigh’ (The Poems of Robert Herrick, ed. Leonard Cyril Martin [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1965], 51).
She shows a swaddled†gg5642
wrapped in bandages
leg.*n8637
] in the octavo this direction appears in the margins of this line and the following one
*n8636
Compare the stage business in George Chapman’s The Gentleman Usher (Children of the Chapel, c. 1602), in which the elderly (and increasingly tipsy) Corteza declares, ‘thank God, / I never was more sound of wind and limb’ and displays ‘a great bombasted [padded] leg’, saying, ‘Look you, I warrant you I have a leg, / Holds out as handsomely -’ (The Gentleman Usher, ed. John Hazel Smith [London: Edward Arnold, 1970], 2.1.26-9). Like Chapman’s play, The Demoiselle requires a boy actor to perform a caricature of aging female sexuality.
910FrancesThese, among men, are followed for the fashions,
That were invented for the better grace
(As our
attires)†gg5643
clothing
to set off limb or face.
911MagdalenGood lack!†gg5382
an exclamation along the same lines as ‘good heavens!’ or ‘good grief!’
What knowledge comes from foreign
parts?†gs1514
lands; characteristics, attributes (OED n, 12); genitals
Enter DRYGROUND [and] WAT.*n8638
] Enter Dryground, VVat.
912DrygroundI prithee,*n8639
I pray thee: please
Wat, have patience for an hour.
913WatNot for a minute, sir. I’ll not be kicked
And called
base†gg295
contemptible, degraded, unworthy
pander†gs1385
go-between, bawd
for your
baseness—†gg5644
iniquity, contemptible behaviour
914DrygroundNay, look you,†gs1515
pay attention; listen to me
Wat—
915WatAnd had almost been pumped†gs1516
dunked under a water pump
And made a
sport†gs446
entertainment, amusement, recreation, diversion (OED n1, 1a)
for
watermen†gg454
licensed wherry men who plied for hire on the river (in London on the Thames) (OED 2)
i’th’ Thames.
917WatI’ll hear my father sooner. Give me hence
My sister. Were he a
ravenous†gg5645
ferocious, predatory (OED a, 1a)
beast, a wolf,
I would obey him rather than
trudge†gg4154
walk laboriously or wearily (OED v1, 1)
a foot
Further in your base way.
Heart,†gg3659
mild oath: by God's heart
I am
hip-shot!†gg5646
have a dislocated hip-joint (OED a, 1)
918Dryground [Aside] Now, would his body’s pains convert his soul,
’Twere a good work.
O’th’
mourning of the chine,†gg5647
‘a disease of horses’ (OED chine, n2, 5) (chine: spine, back)
too, with the kicks
And
hunches†gg5648
pushes, shoves (OED n, 1a)
they
o’erlaid†gg5649
overlaid: overwhelmed, oppressed (OED v, 4)
me with. Oh, base!
Without
resistance!†gg5650
the power to resist
Give me hence my sister.
921WatWas’t†gg5651
was it
not your project?
923AliceNo harm, I warrant†gg859
assure, promise
you.
924WatNay, it shall out. Your base inhuman project
To sell your daughter’s maidenhead (I care not
Who hears me, I), and cunningly to make me
Your
hackney-jade†gg5652
an inferior kind of hired horse: a ‘hackney’ is a horse kept for hire (OED n, 2), and ‘jade’ is a contemptuous word for a horse
to fetch your
chapmen†gg5653
merchants, dealers
in.
926JaneWhat did my husband mean to wish us hither?
927WatBaseness! I cannot call it bad enough.
928DrygroundYou were as
forward†gs1517
eager; bold, immodest
in it as myself,
And wooed me you might have her
with*n8640
] without
all faults.
929WatMine eyes are opened now.
They were almost beaten out first.
Ere I will marry so, I’ll take a beggar
And join in trade with her, though I get nothing.
But my name is Vermin already; I
Thank a good father for’t.
932DrygroundA beggar-wench’s breed would
propagate†gg5654
multiply through procreation, spread
Your name most numerously.
933WatMuch better than your
sale-ware,†gs1518
literally means inferior quality goods (ready-made rather than home-made; OED sale n2, 4a), but it is used in early modern texts to refer to women with low moral standards or prostitutes; compare the name of Alicia Saleware in Brome’s A Mad Couple Well Matched, and the statement of Grimundo in James Shirley’s The Grateful Servant (Queen Henrietta Maria’s Men, 1629; published London,1630), who disdains ‘sale-ware, mercenary stuff that ye may have i’th’ suburbs, and now maintenance traffic with ambassadors’ servants’ (sig. G4r)
and more
lasting;†gg5655
enduring, permanent (OED a, 1): used here either to refer to strength of affection or heath
I think I saw her today must be the woman.
[To FRANCES] Good
Madam Polecat,*n8641
'Polecat' is a term often used for a whore or a bawd; Williams (2: 1070) cites the insults aimed by the title-character, Franceschina, in Marston’s The Dutch Courtesan (Queen’s Revels, c. 1604) at her bawd: 'Foutra 'pon you, vitch, bawd, polecat' (David Crane, ed., The Dutch Courtesan [London: A&C Black, 1997], 2.2.35).
the
trim†gs1519
well-equipped; competent; excellent, fine (OED a, 1); elegantly dressed (OED a, 2); good looking (OED a, 2c); fine (said ironically) (OED 3)
schoolmistress!
I’ll carry her and her virginity
Unto
some fitter place of execution.*n8645
Execution is often used in early modern texts to mean ‘copulation’. Williams (1: 451) compares Rowley, All’s Lost by Lust (?Prince Charles’s Men, c. 1619 [later Lady Elizabeth’s Men]; published London, 1633): ‘alas poor maidenhead, th’art cast, i’faith, / And must to execution’ (sig. B1v), and Sharpham’s Cupid’s Whirligig (King’s Revels, 1607; published London, 1607), ‘why do your old judges’ widows always marry young gentlemen, but to show that they love execution better than judgement’ (sigs. F4r-v). Williams writes, ‘the primary sense, giving practical effect to sexual passion, too readily blurs with that of inflicting capital punishment, saying much of the inherent violence of sexuality’.
934AliceYou brought me hither, sir, and here I’ll stay.
936MagdalenOh dear! And is it so? What are we, then? Is this your
bon*n8646
Good (French): spelled ‘boun’ in the octavo.
fashion? Is this the carriage of the body that you would teach us? What, to be whores? We could learn that at home,
and*n8647
if
there were need, without your teaching.
938AliceMistress Bumpsey, pray fear no harm.
939MagdalenOh
good lack!†gg5382
an exclamation along the same lines as ‘good heavens!’ or ‘good grief!’
What will become of us? Where are we now, Jane? Betrayed! Betrayed! Our honours are betrayed. O my poor Bump; how will thou take this
at my hands,*n8648
from me
though I
carry†gs1499
hold, position
them never so courtly?
940Dryground’Sfoot, she’s in her
maudlin†gg5656
the stage of drunkenness in which the drinker is tearfully sentimental (OED a, 2)
fit!†gs1520
mood (OED dates this usage from 1680, but it seems to be the meaning here)
All her wine showers out in tears.
941MagdalenOh, oh, oh—*n8649
This appears to indicate that Magdalen is sobbing, though she could also say ‘oh!’
[She falls.]*n8650
i.e. she swoons and therefore falls to the ground
946DrygroundIn, all, to the next room.
FRA[NCES and] JANE [lead] out MAGDALEN.*n8652
] Exeunt Fra. Jane leading out Magdalen. (in the octavo the direction appears in the margins of [DM 5.1.lines2635-2637]).
947WatSir, she shall with me. I’ll leave her where I found her.
949Wat’Sfoot,†gg578
an oath, short for ‘God’s foot’
gentlewoman, must I kick you
out o’ doors?*n8653
i.e. out of the door.
I am
provided†gg5657
prepared
for you. Friends, come in,
Enter two SERGEANTS.
And do your office.
951SergeantsWe arrest you, sir. Nay, we shall
rule†gg5658
control, govern
you.
952WatHa, ha, ha! Why, this is well, and very hospitably done. Would any man but an old
bawd†gg356
procurer, go-between
ha’ done this?
953DrygroundSir, I
mistrusted your apostasy.†gg5659
abandonment or renunciation of religious or moral allegiance (OED 1); abandonment of principles more generally (OED 2)
*n8654
i.e. suspected that you would abandon your allegiance to me
Since you revolt, I must recall my money,
Or
lay†gs1118
put
you where I found you,
as*n8655
just as
you threatened your
Sister here.
954WatBaser and baser still! Are you a knight?
A knight? A
post-knight!†gg5660
knight of the post: a perjurer or someone who earns a living by making false oaths (OED knight of the post)
A
postilion†gg5661
‘a person who rides the (leading) nearside (left-hand side) horse drawing a coach or carriage, esp. when one pair only is used and there is no coachman; also in extended use: an outrider for a carriage.’ (OED n, 3; the earliest example cited is from Massinger’s The City Madam [King’s Men, 1633; published London, 1658], and this usage appears in a number of Caroline texts)
That rides afore horse,
o’er the ears*n8656
i.e. covered
in dirt,
Three
fingers†gg5662
measurements equal to the breadth of a finger, or three quarters of an inch (OED n, 5)
thick, is not so
base.†gg295
contemptible, degraded, unworthy
You
varlets,†gg2962
knaves, rogues, menials
Do you arrest folks in a
bawdy-house?†gg62
brothel
955SergeantsWe do not
find†gs192
perceive (OED v, 5a)
it so. Or, if it be,
The place may be as honest as our office.
Will you walk, sir?
If now my father (as some in like cases
Have done) would take a fine submission.
I could afford to kneel and
whine,†gg5663
cry as if in pain or distress (OED v, 1)
methinks,
Rather than back to my old
ward†gs1521
imprisonment (OED v, 3); prison (OED v, 17a), department or section within a prison (OED v, 17b)
again.
’Twill ne’er be
handsome,†gs1522
proper, seemly (OED a, 3)
though.
Enter VALENTINE.
958WatMy lucky†gs1523
well-omened (OED a, 3); acquired through good fortune; occurring by chance and producing happy results (OED a, 2)
friend!
Sir, you relieved me lately. Could you now
But add another favour, it might teach
One that ne’er learnt to pray, to pray for you.
Do you not know me, sir? ’Twas I you saved
Out of the Temple suds.*n8657
That is: from being washed under the pump in the Temple Gardens. ‘In the suds’ also means to be in difficulties or to be in disgrace (see OED suds n, 5).
959ValentineHast thou been shaved since?*n8658
Wat is apparently no longer wearing his false beard.
960WatNo, sir, I was disguised.
962WatDisguised in villainy, which I
recant.†gs1524
renounce, abjure (OED v1, 1b); publicly confess as an error (OED v1, 3)
[To DRYGROUND] Pray, sir, a word.
965WatI would you were as wet all over as I was like to have been! Or, as you are
catchpoles,†gg5666
sergeants, especially officers who arrest debtors (OED 2)
I would you had been but in those hands I escaped from.
Out of the house.
Here’s*n8661
i.e. here’s money.
for half an hour’s attendance.
[Gives them money.]
Go into that room with your prisoner.
You shall have wine and smoke†gs1525
tobacco
too.*n8660
] this part of the speech is lined as prose in the octavo
Be
of good cheer,*n8662
cheerful, courageous
friend, if thou canst be honest
I can relieve thee. Fear not.
968WatSir, get my father but to say as much
And you shall be
coheir†gg5667
joint heir
with me. I vow,
You shall have half.
969ValentineWe’ll talk anon.WAT [and] SERGEANTS [exit].*n8663
[Exeunt Wat, Sergeants] In the octavo this direction appears on the previous line, but I have moved it because the first half of Valentine’s line is clearly addressed to Wat.
[To DRYGROUND] The youth appears converted.
970DrygroundThere was no other
means†gs1526
way, method
to
work it by,*n8664
bring it about
But that I used, to
urge*n8666
] urg’d
him
past his nature.*n8665
i.e. to transgress his natural scruples.
He was so
free†gs798
unrestricted, unrestrained
in’s†gg2502
in his
villainy, that I
Giving the spurs ran him beyond his speed,
Quite off his legs, and glad to be led home.*n8667
The image is of Dryground as rider and Wat as horse: Dryground has spurred Wat to run faster and longer than he was capable of, and the latter is now docile and eager to return to his former life.
971ValentineHis father
comes on fairly.*n8668
i.e. is making good progress.
I have followed
All your instructions concerning him
And my fantastic
father-’law,†gg4293
a contraction of father-in-law
both whom
Are hard at hand, with the
wise*n8669
said ironically
western†gg4113
from the west of England
knight;
He too’s content to go to the best
ordinary†gs1572
an establishment where meals were provided at a set price; OED notes that in the seventeenth century ‘the more expensive ordinaries were frequented by men of fashion, and the dinner was usually followed by gambling; hence the term was often used as synonymous with “gambling-house”’ (OED n, 11c)
While ’tis
best cheap*n8670
Most inexpensive (OED cheap a, 1a); most easily obtained (OED cheap a, 3).
he says. Where are the women?
972DrygroundYour
mother-’law,†gg5668
a contraction of mother-in-law
after she had got
As much French carriage as might serve to furnish
A
petty†gs1527
little, subordinate (i.e. to the royal court); there is probably a deliberate choice of ‘petty’ because it sounds like the French petit (little)
court, is fallen into a
fit†gs1528
humour, impulse (OED dates this usage from 1680, but it seems to be the meaning here)
To overthrow it all again.
But is the house clear, sir, of all your
riflers?†gs1529
gamesters, participants in the raffle; those who want to ‘rifle’ Frances
974DrygroundAs I could wish, and
well satisfied,*n8671
extremely contented
For when they understood the
honest†gs1530
respectable, honourable, upright
end†gg2357
purpose, aim
My
project†gs934
scheme
aim’d at, which, by an oration
Well
charged†gg5670
loaded, laden (OED ppl, 1)
with virtuous sentences, I forced
Into the nobler
breasts,†gg5673
hearts (the breast is figuratively thought of as the seat of the affections and emotions) (OED n, 5)
they all
recanted†gg5671
renounced
The
barbarous†gg5672
uncivilised, rough, savage
purpose, and as
freely†gg4014
willingly, unreservedly (OED adv, 1a)
left
Their money for that charitable use,
To which I
pre-intended†gg5674
intended previously, ordained (OED: the earliest citation dates from 1636)
it. The rest
Pursed theirs again.*n8673
i.e. returned their stakes to their purses
But yet I have collected
In this odd
uncouth†gg5675
uncertain; strange; distasteful (OED a, 1, 2 and 3)
way
five hundred pounds*n8674
In today’s money, £500 would be worth around £42,900.
That was laid down
at stake*n8675
as stakes
for a virginity,
To make an honest
stock†gs1531
fund of money (OED n1, 47)
for
Frank.*n8676
Dryground again refers to Frances as ‘Frank’; see [NOTE n5802] and [NOTE n7879] for further comment.
I may fetch in my guests. In the meantime
You may be pleased, sir, to peruse this
paper.*n8678
] Baper
[VALENTINE gives DRYGROUND the letter and] exit[s].*n8679
] Exit.
n8677
Valentine’s exit to fetch the characters that he has picked up during the course of Act 4 sets off the play’s final sequence, in which fifteen characters will eventually gather on the stage. Like many of Brome’s comedies, The Demoiselle finishes with a crowded sequence in which plots are resolved and reconciliations ensured. The ending of The Demoiselle is not as problematic as that of The New Academy, which it in some ways resembles, or as parodic as that of The Sparagus Garden, but it has a very uneven tone, and shifts between verse and prose. The revelations come thick and fast, but it does not necessarily seem exaggerated or farcical, and the comedy is leavened with pathos and wonder, especially surrounding the conversion of Vermin, Bumpsey’s very humane interventions, and the comic treatment of Magdalen’s repentance. See this extract from the workshop for a run-through from this line to the end of Dryground’s final speech [DM 5.1.speech1051]), which gives an impression of how it might work in performance. As in many of Brome’s large-cast scenes, management of the stage is crucial: see [DM 5.1.speech987] for detailed comment on the problematic stage direction.
976DrygroundHow now!†gs1532
exclamation indicating surprise
What’s here? How might he come by this?
It is the scorn I sent my
injured†gg5603
wronged (OED’s first example is from 1634)
love,
My
abused†gs1533
wronged, violated (OED a, 2); deceived
Eleanor, the
hand†gs1534
handwriting (the word ‘hand’ influences the rest of the line, in which the handwriting is imagined as a physical hand that thrusts Eleanor away)
that threw
Her from me. Oh,
that*n8680
if only
at the price of
it*n8681
i.e. the hand that wrote the letter
I could
receive†gs1535
catch in my arms (OED v, 3b); give accommodation or shelter to (OED v, 11a); ‘to admit (a person) into some relation with oneself, esp. to familiar or social intercourse; to treat in a familiar or friendly manner’ (OED v, 8a); greet or acknowledge (OED v, 9a); take or accept (often used in the context of marriage) (OED 13a)
her!
Enter OLIVER [and] AMBROSE.*n8682
] Enter Oliver. Ambrose.
977OliverSir,
by your leave,*n8683
That is: with your permission; according to your instructions.
We come to
sup†gg5318
eat supper
w’†gg5536
with
ye.
Does your rifling hold?*n8684
That is: is your raffle going ahead?
978AmbroseWhat, you are
off o’ the hooks,*n8685
In a bad way (OED hook n1, 15a); put out (OED hook n1, 15c: OED’s earliest citation is from 1662, but the sense may have been current at an earlier date); it is tempting to take the current meaning of ‘off the hook’ (OED hook n1, 15f), but OED dates the earliest usage to 1864). In any case, Ambrose seems to look around and see that there are no hoards of gallants waiting for the raffle. Brome also uses the expression in The Sparagus Garden, Act 5, Scene 1, in which Gilbert says, ‘are we no less sure that Sir Hugh Moneylacks will set his strength to lift Sir Cautious off o’the hooks, in hope of a matter of five pound, though he forfeit the obligation of his throat by’t?’ [SG 5.1.speech1048].
methinks.
979OliverIf there be no such thing,
tell†gs1536
disclose, reveal (OED v, 5a)
us the riddle!
980DrygroundYou shall know all, and
briefly.†gg5676
soon (OED 2); in few words (OED 1)
Frank, come in.
Enter FRANC[ES].*n8686
] Enter Franck. Frances elsewhere appears in the octavo’s stage directions as ‘Frances’, ‘Francis’, ‘Fran.’ and ‘Fra.’; this is the only time at which ‘Frank’ is used (apart from in Dryground’s dialogue). The move to ‘Frank’ would be more disorientating for a modern reader, as ‘Frank’ is often used as a woman’s name in early modern texts. See [NOTE n5802] for further discussion.
Now, gentlemen—
She does not taste of sin!*n8688
] the octavo has the speech prefix ‘Dry.’ here, but it is clearly an error
Fair chastity
Sits crowned upon her brow,*n8689
A similar image of the visibility of chastity in a woman’s face can be found in ‘The Amorous Zodiac’ in George Chapman’s Ovid’s Banquet of Sense (London, 1595), which was reprinted in 1639:
All this fresh April, this sweet month of Venus,
I will admire this brow so bounteous:
This brow, brave court for love, and virtue builded,
This brow where chastity holds garrison,
This brow that (blushless) none can look upon,
This brow with every grace and honour gilded. (sig. F3v)
with an aspect
May beat down lust to hell, from whence it rose.
982FrancesYou
profess†gs1538
undertake this task (OED 2a); declare (OED 2c)
nobly, sir.
983OliverI vow, and do not lie to you, if I find
Your father so inhuman, you against
it,*n8690
i.e. the actions that Dryground will undertake.
We’ll be your rescue, if forty able
swordmen,†gg5677
swordsmen, soldiers
Which we have,
at the signal of a finger,*n8691
That is, they will respond if Oliver makes a gesture with his hand.
Planted in readiness, can
fetch you off.*n8692
Rescue you, deliver you.
Do you approve?
985OliverNow
we are for you,*n8693
i.e. we are ready to hear you (see OED for prep, 12).
sir.
Which your
late†gs1539
recent, former
impatience†gg2173
irritability, restlessness
would not permit.
In that high phrase, or tone, as you did then.*n8694
Ambrose realises that Dryground is not speaking in the affected ‘high’ style that he adopted in his persona of Osbright in Act 3.
Enter VALENTINE [with] BUMPSEY, VERMIN, AMPHILUS, BROOKALL, ELEANOR [and] PHYLLIS.n8696
It is difficult for seven characters to enter quietly, and although Dryground and, perhaps, Frances may be aware of their presence, Oliver and Ambrose apparently are not. The location of the ordinary may help here, as a certain amount of bustle and to-and-fro might be expected. In this extract from the workshop the characters are brought on from two different entrances (the downstage one would not, of course, have existed at Salisbury Court, where The Demoiselle was first performed); they carry glasses and stand in clusters, with their backs to the Dryground-Frances-Oliver-Ambrose group. As this extract demonstrates, the entering group do not make themselves known until [DM 5.1.speech1008], when Alice enters and Vermin and Sir Amphilus are shocked into speaking aloud. I have therefore added ‘aside’ to the speeches of Valentine, Eleanor, Phyllis, Brookall and Vermin that follow over the next ten speeches. Some of these speeches might be self-directed, or addressed to other characters in the group.
*n8695
] Enter Valentine. Bumpsey, Vermine, Amphilus, Brookall, Elynor, Phillis. (in the octavo the stage direction appears in the margins of [DM 5.1.lines2759-2763])
988Valentine [Aside] Stand here, unseen, and hear
attentively.†gg5678
‘with careful consideration; observantly’ (OED)
989DrygroundI am a gentleman that by foul
misdeed†gg5679
offence, evil deed (OED 1)
(Heaven, Heaven I ask thee pardon) once did wrong
To an unfortunate family, by rejecting
After
affiance,†gg4411
solemn engagement; esp. the plighting of troth between two persons in marriage, a marriage contract (OED 3)
and her love
abused,†gs1540
misused, ill-treated, violated (Dryground strongly hints that he took advantage of the marriage agreement to have sex with Eleanor, and Oliver picks him up on this in his reply)
A gentlewoman—
990OliverYou got with child, and then denied her marriage.
993Valentine [Aside] No
passion,†gs1541
expression of emotion; ‘A fit, outburst, or state marked by or of strong excitement, agitation, or other intense emotion’ (OED n, 6c)
gentle soul.
994Phyllis [Aside] If this should prove my father now!
996DrygroundShe,
on the discontent*n8697
That is: on meeting with this cause of discontent or grievance (see OED discontent n1, 2).
(poor
hapless†gg2288
unfortunate
soul),
Now
fourteen winters since,*n8698
Fourteen years is often the length of a period of separation or exile in Jacobean and Caroline plays: see Shakespeare and Wilkins’s Pericles (King’s Men, c. 1607-8), Middleton’s No Wit, No Help Like a Woman’s (?Prince Henry’s Men, c. 1611), William Rowley’s The Thracian Wonder (auspices uncertain, c. 1618?), Fletcher and Massinger’s The Double Marriage (King’s Men, c. 1620-1), Fletcher and Rowley’s The Maid in the Mill (King’s Men, 1623) and Ford’s Perkin Warbeck (Queen Henrietta Maria’s Men, c. 1633). Perhaps not coincidentally for many of these plays (including The Demoiselle), fourteen is often also the age at which many early modern commentators assume that women reach sexual maturity. In Marston’s The Malcontent (Chapel/Queen’s Revels, c. 1603), for instance, the bawd Maquerelle claims that Mendoza has declared that ‘at four, women were fools; at fourteen, drabs [whores]; at forty, bawds; at fourscore, witches; and a hundred, cats’ (George K. Hunter, ed., The Malcontent [London: Methuen, 1975], 1.6.34-6).
though
sadly burdened,*n8699
That is, pregnant (with Phyllis).
Fled, and no more is heard of. At the first
My wildness
took no sense*n8700
That is: had no feeling of (see OED sense n, 5); did not comprehend the general reaction to (see OED sense n, 18b, which includes ‘to take the sense of’ ‘to ascertain the general feeling or opinion of’: OED’s earliest example dates from 1653)
of this
dear loss,*n8701
i.e. loss of something valuable; costly loss
But drew me through the ways of
careless†gs1542
unconcerned (OED 2); inattentive, negligent (OED 3) (for Brome, the word ‘careless’ carries a large degree of moral opprobrium: see the name of the anti-hero of A Mad Couple Well Matched, George Careless)
pleasure,
By
riotous†gg5682
dissolute, extravagant (OED riotous 3)
expense, that mine estate
And
credit†gs1543
financial credit: ‘Trust or confidence in a buyer’s ability and intention to pay at some future time’ (OED n, 9); reputation
ran at waste,*n8702
That is: were brought to ruin. ‘Waste’ is used to describe barren land (OED waste a, 1a), while ‘to run at waste’ is used figuratively to refer to the useless expenditure of wealth (see OED waste n, 10a: the phrase originally refers to the flowing of liquor so as to be wasted); Brome puns on all senses here
and was
nigh†gs1544
nearly
spent,
Until my
trespass†gg319
(n) offence (OED n, 1); minor violation of the law (OED n, 2); crime
cried against my conscience
To
render†gs310
deliver
satisfaction.†gg276
penance, compensation, atonement
But
in vain*n8703
fruitlessly, pointlessly
We
offer*n8704
i.e. offer compensation; make offerings.
to the dead. My
genius†gs1545
guardian spirit (thought in classical belief to govern someone’s fortunes and determine his character (OED 1); ‘Natural ability or capacity; quality of mind; the special endowments which fit a man for his peculiar work.’ (OED 4: the earliest citation dates from 1649, but it may be applicable here)
therefore
Prompts me to
grateful†gs1546
manifesting gratitude (OED 2); pleasing (OED 1)
deeds unto her
blood.†gs1547
family, kindred
997AmbroseWhat can this come to?*n8705
That is, where is this going?, what does this mean?
By law—
1001Vermin [Aside] Ha!
How’s that?*n8706
What was that?
Had nothing left him, but a son—
1003OliverWhat’s all this to your daughter?*n8707
i.e. what does this have to do with your daughter?
1004DrygroundEven all that may be. See: his son’s my daughter.*n8708
] Even all that may be; (see) His Sonne’s my Daughter. The octavo’s punctuation suggests that ‘see’ is delivered in a particular way, and that it is perhaps accompanied by the action of ‘Discover[ing]’ Frances’s true identity. For further comment on the stage direction and on ways of handing it in performance see [NOTE n8709] below.
Discover FRANC[ES].n8709
The revelation of Frances’s identity and true sex is similar to the coup de théâtre at the end of Ben Jonson’s Epicoene, originally performed by the Children of the Queen’s Revels in 1609-10, but revived in the 1630s, in which the ‘silent woman’ of the play’s subtitle is revealed to be a man. The stage direction directs Dryground to ‘discover’ Frances’s identity, and the most straightforward way of doing this would be to have him remove Frances’s wig. This would parallel the stage business in Jonson’s play, which includes the stage direction ’He takes off Epicoene’s peruke’ [wig]’ (L.A. Beaurline, ed., Epicoene [London: Edward Arnold, 1966], 5.4.182) at the point at which Dauphine reveals Epicoene’s true identity. A comparison also might be drawn with the stage business in Nathan Field’s Amends for Ladies (Queen’s Revels, c. 1611; published London, 1618), itself indebted to Epicoene, in which Frank, Ingen’s brother, is required to dress as a woman. Stage directions indicate that he enter ‘like a woman masked’ (sig. D2v) and ‘like a woman’ (sig. D4v), and his identity is finally revealed by Ingen:
No, behold, it is my younger brother dressed: Plucks
A man, no woman, that hath gulled the world, off his
Intended for a happier event headtire
Than this that followed. (sig. E1r)
Interestingly, the brother is not referred to as ‘Frank’ until later in the play, when he appears in man’s clothing. In this extract from the workshop, Dryground (Mike Burrell) removes Frances’s wig with something of a flourish, and the other characters on stage gasp: the importance of this moment for the plot suggests that it should have as much impact on an audience as possible. It would be possible to register it still more through the reactions of the other characters, which are relatively muted here. The removal of a wig could also be paralleled in Dryground’s second revelation at [DM 5.1.speech1012] where the stage direction reads ‘Discovers himself.’
There may be other ways of revealing Frances’s true sex. In The City Wit, Brome has a boy disguised as a woman reveal his identity by revealing breeches under his petticoats [CW 5.1.speech955], but this is unlike the moment in The Demoiselle in that it is a carefully staged and symbolic revelation which comes out of an inset masque sequence. Modern productions might use hats, or items of female clothing which could be removed (the latter would have been hard to achieve in the Caroline theatre, as women’s clothing was complicated and often tightly laced).
Now do you
find†gg1278
discover, understand
my project, gentlemen?
It has,
at charge*n8711
at the expense
of three day’s housekeeping,
Put half a thousand pounds
in’s†gg2502
in his
purse, besides
A fair pull for*n8712
That is: a good shot at. The term is used in relation to card games (see Henry Burton, A Plea to an Appeal [London, 1626]: ‘Yea, all the cards in his hand are black, and he hath a fair pull to rub [...] but the mischief is, after much hard drawing, his ace proves a spade’ [sig. B3r]) and with sexual innuendo (see Williams 2: 1109, who cites Thomas Dekker’s II The Honest Whore [Prince Henry’s Men, c. 1605; published London, 1630]: ‘and when she’s ripe, every slave has a pull at her’ [sig. B3r]).
his father’s land again,
For he has, by a
lawful†gs1548
legally qualified or entitled (OED 2a)
churchman,†gg5683
clergyman
married
The daughter of his father’s adversary.
1005OliverWhy, here are
wonders!†gg5684
miracles, astonishing or astonishing deeds
1006AmbroseBravely,†gg141
worthily; fearlessly; splendidly, handsomely (OED)
nobly done!
1007DrygroundCome, Mistress Alice, and justify your
act.†gs1549
deed, action (with sexual innuendo)
Enter ALICE.
1008VerminMy daughter,
ha!†gg2643
a versatile exclamation which can express surprise, wonder, joy, suspicion, indignation, etc., depending on the speaker’s intonation (OED int, 1)
1009AmphilusMy sweetheart,
ho!†gg5685
‘an exclamation expressing, according to intonation, surprise, admiration, exultation (often ironical), triumph, taunting’ (OED int1, 1); ‘a call to stop or to cease what one is doing’ (OED int2, 1)
She is my wife.
1011VerminBy what
witchcraft?†gg5686
black magic (OED 1); ‘Power or influence like that of a magician; bewitching or fascinating attraction or charm’ (OED 2)
1012DrygroundBy stronger
charms†gg5687
spells, enchantments; ‘any quality, attribute, trait, feature, etc., which exerts a fascinating or attractive influence, exciting love or admiration’ (OED n1, 3)
than your
art†gs1551
cunning, skill
can dissolve.
1014VerminI am struck dumb with
wonder.†gs187
amazement
1015EleanorO ’tis he, ’tis he!
[ELEANOR swoons.†gg5688
faints
]
1016ValentineAlas, she swoons!
[To DRYGROUND] Sir,
cheer you up this lady,*n8715
That is: raise this lady’s spirits with cheering words (see OED cheer v, 10).
While I
appease†gs1552
pacify, calm (OED v, 1)
the rest.
[To AMPHILUS]n8716
This stage direction does not appear in the octavo: it is not altogether clear who Valentine addresses, but it could plausibly be Sir Amphilus, whose next line responds to Valentine’s ‘While I appease the rest’. See this extract from the workshop.
A word with you, sir.
1017AmphilusI will not be
appeased.†gg4862
pacified, quieted, satisfied
1019BumpseySo, cheer her up Sir Humphrey!
To her again,*n8717
‘To’ in this context means ‘towards’: ‘to her’ or ‘to him’ was used as an encouraging cry in hunting or fighting (OED prep, 25b); it is possible that Dryground has embraced Eleanor on [DM 5.1.speech1018], and that Bumpsey encourages him to embrace her again.
Sir Humphrey!
Your son, and mine in law,*n8718
i.e. your son, and my son-in-law
has told me all your story, and reconciled your brother Brookall to you before your interview. I know all,
the full point†gs803
proposition, idea (OED n1, 10a); main subject or focus of a discussion (OED n1, 10b); objective, aim (OED n1, 10c); conclusion (OED n1, 11)
and the whole substance,†gg4027
what the speech amounts to (OED 11a); essence (OED 14); puns on possessions, estate, fortune (OED 16)
*n8719
Bumpsey again, somewhat joyously, reworks one of his favourite phrases.
the
flat†gg5689
(n) plainness, absoluteness
and
plain†gg5690
(n) unambiguousness
of the
business,†gs1553
affair (possibly with sexual innuendo: see Williams 1: 179-80)
and now I love these things again. How now, Sir Amphilus? Drowned in
melancholy?†gs1554
sadness; ‘melancholy’ can also refer to ‘sadness giving rise to or considered as a subject for poetry, sentimental reflection, etc.’ (OED n1, 3d), so Bumpsey may be teasing Sir Amphilus about his poetic vein of Act 3
1021Alice [To VERMIN] Your pardon, and your blessing, I beseech you.
High†gs1555
great; divine, heavenly
Providence†gg2236
God (‘applied to the Deity as exercising prescient and beneficent power and direction’: OED n, 4); divine care or guidance (OED n, 3)
hath made it good. But tell me,
Was love your
chief instructor†gg5691
teacher
to*n8725
i.e. principal motivation in
this marriage?
1027BrookallTurn this way for a blessing, then,
my daughter.*n8726
That is: my daughter-in-law (Brookall’s phrasing is also a calculated snub to Vermin).
1028Bumpsey [To VERMIN] Shall I tell you, neighbour? Law has no relief for you, and conscience and you have a long time been strangers. Could you be friends and embrace conscience now, all would be well. And there’s the
substance.†gs1556
what the speech amounts to (OED 11a); essence (OED 14)
Is it plain?
Enter VAL[ENTINE], WAT, MAGDALEN [and] JANE.*n8727
] Enter Val. Wat. Magdalen, Jane.
1030ValentineHere’s one has brought
her*n8728
i.e. Conscience
in his true conversion.
1031WatSir, if you can forgive, and can obey you—
I now can better kneel than speak—*n8729
Wat is apparently weeping throughout this speech (as the stage direction indicates), which explains its incoherence; the dash after ‘obey you’ appears in the octavo.
He weeps.
1032ValentineDo you note those tears, sir? Had you lost your daughter,
My father had in this made you amends
In finding you a son. His art converted him.
1033VerminSure, all’s but apparition,†gs1557
illusion
or a dream.*n8730
This appears to be the point at which Vermin begins to soften in his attitudes towards his son and daughter.
1034BumpseyHa! Think you so? ’Tis your own flesh and blood. And
by your leave and liking,*n8731
i.e. with your permission and approval.
may prove as honest a man as his father.*n8732
This may be said with some irony.
Is not this
plain†gs775
evident, obvious (OED a1, 7); simple, clear, unambiguous (OED a1, 9); free from ambiguity, straightforward, direct, blunt (OED a1, 12)
now? Forgive and bless ’em all over, and so kiss ’em too. They are your children.
1035MagdalenO my dear Bump!n8733
Magdalen’s speech to Bumpsey introduces a comic note after the potential pathos in Wat’s reconciliation with Vermin. See this extract from the workshop on this scene.
Art thou there? Thou may’st kiss and forgive me all over too, for any
harm†gg5692
damage, mischief
or
dishonesty,†gg5693
dishonour, disgrace (OED 1); lewdness, unchastity (OED 2)
though the place be as they say—*n8734
i.e. even though the ordinary is a brothel.
At a word,†gs1347
to speak plainly, to be honest (can also mean ‘in short’ or ‘briefly’)
Bump, thou may’st believe me, I came but to learn
carriage of the body,*n8736
Bodily deportment; sexual activity (Magdalen picks up her own innuendo in the rest of the speech).
nor to carry nobody’s body, but my own body, Bump. No truly, truly, Bump. Oh! Oh!
That ever I did that!*n8737
As if I would ever do that!
1036BumpseyPeace, peace. All’s well. At least I know your
disease.†gs1558
ailment, malady (OED n, 2); morbid condition of the mind (OED n, 3)
1037MagdalenThink me not drunk, good Bump. A little
fashion-sick,†gg5388
made sick by fashion; compare Thomas Bancroft, ‘To London in Time of Pestilence’, in Two Books of Epigrams and Epitaphs (London, 1639):
the roaring boys I see
Put women down with man-less luxury,
Still to be fashion-sick, and drink, and swear,
And rage, as if they Stygian monsters were (sig. G1v)
or so.
1038AmphilusFashion-sick! A fine
civil†gg4691
educated; well-bred; refined, polished, ‘polite’ (OED a, 9)
word. To be drunk is fashion-sick.
1039VerminI am awaked out of the
lethargy†gg5694
torpor, apathy (OED n, 2)
Of
avarice.†gg3886
greed, desire to acquire and hoard wealth (OED)
Blessed may our friendship be.*n8738
This is probably addressed to Dryground and Brookall, but it may be directed to Bumpsey, who has consistently cajoled Vermin to adopt better behaviour throughout the play.
Has
done the office.*n8739
That is, performed the ceremony of marriage.
Blessing on
my girl!*n8740
i.e. Phyllis
Val, thou hast made me young again, the best
Occurrents†gg5695
events, incidents (OED occurrent n, 1a)
in this project have been thine;
Thy
accidents†gg5696
things that happened by chance
exceeded my design.
Betwixt these long-continued adversaries
Perfectly†gg4211
fully, completely
reconciled, and both have given
The young and
hopeful†gg3892
promising, ‘giving promise of success or future good’ (OED a, 2a)
married pair their blessings.
For it was
nolens volens†gg5697
whether willing or not (OED)
as they say.
1043ValentineThey are
beholden†gs1559
obliged (probably said with some degree of irony)
to you. Master Vermin
Restores unto the son the father’s land
For dowry with his daughter: And is
taken†gs1560
delighted
So†gs1561
to such an extent
with the good you
wrought†gs1562
worked
upon his son,
The
convertite†gs1563
convert
here, that if he
stand firm*n8741
Remain steadfast (i.e. not relapse into dissolute behaviour).
Till the
determination†gg5698
termination, bringing to an end (OED 1)
of your
mortgage,†gg5018
loan secured against property (in this case, Dryground's estate)
He’ll cancel it, and send it
gratis†gg2068
freely, without charge
to you.
1044WatThat’s sure enough. But, sir, the other
business.†gs806
affairs, concerns, tasks to attend to
He loves my sister here, and
has done long,*n8742
This seems an exaggeration, given that the events of the play have taken place during one day, and Wat and Phyllis only met in Act 4.
But now that he perceives her worth (being yours)
And
since you promised him your daughter too,*n8743
Dryground promised that Wat could marry his fake daughter Frances (which was, of course, impossible for a number of reasons); Valentine here substitutes his newly discovered real daughter.
He makes it his
fair†gs1564
honourable
suit.†gs992
petition, specifically in the courtship of a woman (OED n, 12)
And Wat, stand you but firm, and live reformed,
Winning my daughter’s love, you shall have mine.
1048PhyllisThat
Fortune is not blind,*n8744
This contradicts the cliché which asserts that Fortune is blind.
that showed me
way*n8745
i.e. the way
To father,
friends,†gg3527
close companions, or relatives
and husband in one day.
1050BrookallAnd with
a brother’s love*n8746
That is: the love of a brother-in-law (as Dryground will now marry Eleanor, Brookall’s sister).
I now
salutegs1565
greet; honour (this statement may be accompanied by a bow or another physical gesture, possibly an embrace, if Dryground’s line [DM 5.1.speech1051] is direct response to Bumpsey’s: see this extract from the workshop on this scene)
you.
Create
the heart of friendship, not the face.*n8747
That is: genuine friendship, not merely the appearance of friendship.
Come, gentlemen, your
ordinary†gs1568
puns on two meanings of ordinary: the eating/drinking establishment, and the meal served there
stays,†gs579
awaits
’Twill prove good
fare†gs1566
food (OED n1, 8)
(I hope) though no rich feast;
And acceptable to each welcome guest.
Epilogue
1052EpilogueNo way ambitious yet of
vulgar†gg5700
common, general; uncultured (OED a, 13: the earliest example cited for the latter is from 1643, but it may have been in use earlier)
praise,
The writer of these scenes desires to know,
By your fair leave,*n8748
with your gracious permission
though he
assume†gs1567
claims, wears
no
bays,†gg2728
a wreath of laurel or bay leaves: an emblem of victory or of distinction in poetry
Whether he
pulled fair for a leaf,*n8749
That is, made a good attempt to get at least a leaf from the wreath.
or
no.*n8750
not
If yes, then
let your hands assistant be*n8751
i.e. let your applause help.
T’ encourage*n8752
to encourage
him to climb
Apollo’s tree.*n8753
This is the laurel tree on which the leaves that make up the poet’s wreath of ‘bays’ grow.
Edited by Lucy Munro