ACT THREEn4347
3.1
LUCKLESS [enters].

425LucklessWhat has she written here? It is the same hand I read in the morning.
[Reads letter aloud]



I am not your counterfeit or unchaste Constance, but that only Constance, that truly love you; and that will, if you live not for me, die for you.

Oh, that I could at any price or penance now redeem one day! Never was hasty match sooner repented.
WIGEON [and] ANVIL enter.

426Wigeon   [Aside to ANVIL]   He’s melancholygg583, methinks. ’Slid, my sister may lie long enough languishing for a ladyship if this fit hold him; for she has it not really till he go to bed and dubgs547 her.

427AnvilWill not you go to bed, sir? We wait for your pointsgg1722n1842.

428LucklessI will. But is it time? Brother, would you would do me the favour to inquire?

429WigeonYes, I'll go see for the posset’sgg1434 sake.—[WIGEON] ex[its].

430LucklessCaptain, deal fairly with me. By what means joined you with this societyn4356? Or how grew so soon your trust or great acquaintance with them?

431AnvilWithout offence, I’ll tell you. You know this morning at your lodging, there passed some words betwixt me and your sullen kinsman, Master — indeed la — Triedwell? And from him too much indeed for me, a professed soldier, to bear; but the place protected him. Till after, upon mature consideration, I made after him for satisfaction, thus armed as you see.   [Brandishes rope and sword.]   Purposing with this rope's end to right me, and to maintain that right with this sword, which I thank Mars never yet failed men1843; as it hath well been manifested by the effusion of much unworthy blood of my abusers, in France, Spain, Italy, Poland, Sweden, Hungary, all parts of Germany.

432LucklessGood Captain, travel not so far in your relation, but come home again to the business.

433AnvilI have used it in some score or two of sea fights too, by the way.

434LucklessBut to the matter, Captain; where met you my cousin?

435AnvilThe first sight I recovered of him was as he was entering the house of the greasygg1723 knight there; what call you him?

436LucklessSir Paul Squelch?

437AnvilSquelch, aye, a pox squelch him; I waited a quarter of an hour at his door for your kinsman; and longer I would not, had he been kinsman to the emperor, and my enemy. Therefore in I went, told Master Triedwell in his ear my coming was to call him forth, to discharge the office of a gentleman with his sword in answering those wrongs wherewith I held my reputation wounded. Was it not well, ha? Could a poor gentleman say more? And that in civil fashion very privately in respect of the company, not showing any the least distemper, in look or gesture. But the women read presently in his countenance the whole matter, and briefly by their pretty persuasion I took ordinary satisfaction of him.

438LucklessWhat was that, Captain?

439AnvilWhy he confessed he wronged me, was sorry for’t, and so forth.n1844 What should we speak more on’t? This you must not speak of neither. You must promise me that o’your honour, as you desire to hear what follows. I love no ripping up old sores.

440LucklessNot a word I, Captain, upon my word.   [Aside]   What a rascal’s this!   [To ANVIL]   To the point, good captain.

441AnvilThen, thus, sir; I soon perceived their drift to appease and win me to their friendship was for my assistance, and indeed to bear them out in this night’s work, the masque. The whole plot of all which was merely to sow dissension between you and your new married lady; to work if they can a separation before carnal copulationn4357, in which, if they can prevail, and that the dislike continue between you to that height, that a divorce be required equally by the consent of you both, your marriage then is frustrated, and you stand in statu quo priusn4358, d'ye hear? So your cousin Triedwell may lawfully pursue his hopes in your bride, who he loves as eagerly as the melancholygg583 virgin dotes on you.

442LucklessBut may this hold good in law, Captain?

443AnvilThere’s a canongg423n2237 for it, sir, if both parties agree to a divorce after marriage, so it be before copulation.n4278

444LucklessThough the former part of his discourse was a most egregious lie, yet the last hath some sound of pleasure in it, which I may make use of.
TRIEDWELL enters.

445TriedwellCome, give me the instrument. Shall I never find thee anywhere but thou wilt by just desert exact a beating from me? Hast thou no conscience? Wouldst thou have me lame myself or melt my grease upon thee? Come, sir, I have overheard you all; give me the instrument. The instrument, I say. Indeed I’ll have it. So. Now, sir—[Lunges at ANVIL and seizes the rope from him.]

446LucklessNay, cousin, for the service he hath done you tonight, and love of me, pardon him this time. Besides, his charge is in the house at whose charge he livesn1845. You will both shame and undo him.

447TriedwellWell, sir, I shall for this time pardon you and never beat you more, if before Sir Philip here you will subscribe to this   [Hands him a document and a pen]:    ’Tis nothing but a faithful protestation to do reasonable things as I shall appoint, and not to reveal what I shall trust you withall.

448AnvilIf you will covenantgg1724 on your part, in defence of my reputation, to let me rail at you behind your back, I will subscribe.

449TriedwellTake your pleasure, I am content. Write, sir.[ANVIL signs his signature to the document]
        In what without a knave we cannot end,
        A knave employed does the office of a friend.

450AnvilHere, sir, I deliver it as my deed.[Hands him back the signed document]

451TriedwellHere, and I deliver you this again to keep.   [Hands him back the rope]   Indeed you shall for performance of covenantsgg1724.
WIGEON enters.

452WigeonOh, sir, you are defeated! My sister hath fortified her lodging with locks, bolts, bars, and barricadosgg1725.

453LucklessTo what end, brother? For what cause?

454AnvilI know not whither it be discontent or wilfulness that possesses her; but you are to have no entrance there tonight. That she has sufficiently sworn.

455Triedwell   [Aside]   Good.

456LucklessHow am I denied to my wish?

457Triedwell   [To LUCKLESS]   Pray let me speak with you, sir.

458LucklessAt large you shall; for though it be my wedding night, you shall be my bedfellown4279. Lights there.   [To WIGEON]   Goodnight, brother.[LUCKLESS] exit[s].

459Triedwell   [To ANVIL]   Goodnight, Captain.[TRIEDWELL] exit[s].

460WigeonHow now, governor? What has angered thee? Something troubles thy countenance.

461AnvilYour coming and the privilege of this place hath once more preserved that unworthy Triedwell from the justice of my fury, which should have fallen on him had he been twinned with me by this light.

462WigeonBy this light, governor? Would you have fought by candlelight?

463AnvilSir, I dare do it by daylight, moonlight, starlight —

464WigeonOwl-light?

465AnvilAny light under the sun. And that shall be tried well on Triedwell's head, d'ye hear?

466Wigeon   [Aside]   A good jest! Tried well upon Triedwell! He has wit in his anger.   [To ANVIL]   But, governor, laying your anger aside, let me be beholden to your wit in achieving this northern lass. Thy acquaintance with her must be the means. Prithee go lie with men4279, and help me to dream out some course. Nay, look now thy fury blows so high, thou dost not hear me.

467AnvilNot hear? Yes, were I in a combat as great as ever I myself fought any, I could both hear and give counsel. Therefore say unto yourself, by the help of your governor, she is your own.

468WigeonO man past example!

469AnvilBut, d'ye hear?

470WigeonHere, here, thou shalt have anything—.Gives him money.[WIGEON and ANVIL exit.]n4294
3.2
SQUELCH, CONSTANCE, NONSENSE, [and] TRAINWELL enter.

471Squelch   [Dragging CONSTANCE along with him]   Come your ways, huswifegg1940, no more of your whinings, and counterfeit tricks.   [Gestures at NONSENSE]   If this gentleman be not worthy of your love, I am not worthy to be your uncle directly.

472TrainwellAlas, what mean you, sir?

473SquelchAccept of himn4359, you accept of me. If you refuse him, you deny me directly.

474TrainwellShe understands you not a word, sir.

475SquelchIf you will join hands and faith with him, here’s your portiongg1143, there’s your jointuregg1144; if not, your way lies before you: pack directly.

476TrainwellGood sir, consider her diseasen4360. If her understanding were direct, you might speak directly to her. But if I have any discretion, she is too full of melancholygg583 to be purgedn4280 this way.

477SquelchWhat would you have me do? Or how in your discretion would you counsel me?

478TrainwellNot to be mad, sir, because she is melancholy. Not by taking a wrong course for her recovery to ruin her, and forfeit your judgment. Do you think that commands with chidings, threats or stripes, have power to work upon her, when she has neither will nor reason within herself to do, or not to do anything whatsoever?

479SquelchNow the gig’s up!n1847

480TrainwellIf her health in sense and understanding were perfect, yet, as she is woman, her willgg1970 were first to be wrought upon by fair and gentle treaty. But as she is at this time so sick in mind, that knowledge of what she is, what she does, especially of what she should do, is dead in her, her mind must be first recovered. And that by a due course in soft and temperate proceedings, to which fit time, as well as means, must be allowed. Moreover —.

481SquelchOh, no moreovers I beseech you, nor more of hern4361 at this time. I understand your purpose already; I do, directly. Therefore, speedily take what course and use what means shall in your discretion be thought fit. I will subscribe; I will directly subscribe to your discretion.   [Aside]    My wife, when she went out of the world, left me as great a curse behind her in the charge she gave me with this womann1848, this quick-sighted guide of my house; a blind one were better.

482TrainwellYou should first see, if it pleased you, how her affection may be wrought upon by the gentleman’s own fair entreaty.   [To NONSENSE]   Pray, sir, speak to her like a suitor.   [To CONSTANCE]   Look upon him sweetheart; this gentleman loves you.   [To NONSENSE]   Pray speak, sir; do you not?

483NonsenseNever credit me, pretty gentlewoman—

484ConstanceNor will I, fear it not; nor any man that says he loves me. For, alas, I was too lately scorned.

485NonsenseYou are a lass, indeed, I protest and vow; and such a one, as I would be very sorry to appear any way … or in the least degree … as it were please you to understand me … for I’ll be sworn there is not in the world —

486ConstanceTruth in swearing, less in promising.

487NonsenseIf you will believe me, lady —

488ConstanceNor ne man for your sake.

489NonsenseThere is not in the world, I say —

490ConstanceI say so too, sir. What was’t I pray?

491NonsenseThere is not in the world any gentlewoman —

492ConstanceTell that no further, for we are all too gentle lessen men were less cruel.

493TrainwellHear him speak, Constance!

494ConstanceYou shall hear me sing first, by your leave.

495Trainwell   [Aside]   Poor heart.

496SquelchHere’s wise work! Direct lunacy and idiotism. Bless my house from the Ward Master’s informersn1849.

497Constance   [To NONSENSE]   Pray sir, are you Sir Philip?

498Trainwell   [To NONSENSE]   Say you are.

499NonsenseYes, lady, I am Sir Philipn1850

500ConstanceBut you are none of my sparrown1851. Your mouth’s not wide enough for your words.

501Trainwell   [Aside]   She has stopped his mouth there.

502Constancen1723His words would soften adamantinegg1726 ears.n4518
        And’s looks would melt a marble heart to tears.
O wea is me!n4281

503TrainwellNay, you must not weep, sweetheart.

504ConstanceWhat mun I do than? Shall I ever get him by singing trow ye? In troth I would never but sing if I thought that were the gainestgg1727 way.

505TrainwellI had rather hear you sing though, than see you weep.

506ConstanceIt must be of my love, then, my sparrow, as I told you. And thus it goes.
[She sings]
        A bonny, bonny bird I had,n4362n1724
        A bird that was my marrow;
        A bird whose pastime made me glad,
        And Philip ’twas, my sparrow.
        A pretty playferegg1728, chirp it would,
        And hop, and fly to fist,
        Keep cutgg1729, as ’twere a usurer’s gold,
        And billgg1973 me when I list.
        ‘Philip, Philip, Philip’ it cries;n4471
        But he is fled and my joy dies.n4472
        But were my Philip come again,
        I would not change my love
        For Juno’s bird with gaudy trainn1852,
        Nor yet for Venus’s dove.
        Nay, would my Philip come again,
        I would not change my state,
        For his great namesake’s wealth of Spainn1725,
        To be another’s mate.
        ‘Philip, Philip,’ &c

No, no, you cannot be the man. I know him right weell by you sir, as wily as you be. Gingg1613 you had all his trimgg990 geargg476 upon you, and all his sweets about you, yet I should not be so fond to mistake a Jenny Howletgg1730 for a Tassel Gentlegg1731. Ah, ah, ha.

507TrainwellWhy, love, what fault do you find in this gentleman?

508ConstanceFeath, but eene eanegg1732: that he is not Sir Philip. For thus would he do: thus would he kiss his hand; and thus take me by mine.n4515 Thus would he look, and set his eye on mine; and give me leave to see my self in’s eyen. ’Twas the best glass in troth that e’er I saw; I ne’er look weell fine, nor e’r shall I’m sure, until I see me there again.
[S]ing[s].
        But he is geane, alas hee’s geane, and all too late I sorrow.
        For I shall never be well again, till yesterday be tomorrow.
God you good even, sir.—n4282[CONSTANCE] exit[s].

509Trainwell   [To NONSENSE]   Follow her, sir.

510SquelchAnd put her to’tn1856 sir, and out of this humourn1854. I’ll add the tother five hundred to her portiongg1143 and you bring her aboutn1857 handsomelygg61. Oh, when I was a batchelor! — I think I can do somewhat yet in my old days — but when I was a bachelor how I could have handled this geargg2999.

511NonsenseNever credit me, sir, if you will believe me, but —

512SquelchI do believe you, sir, sufficiently. Good Master Nonsense, no more of your impertinent speeches, but follow her and put her to’t I say, to’t directly! Take her into the orchard. ’Twas there she fell in love they say; it may be the place is ominous.NONSENSE ex[its].

513TrainwellSir, there will be no way for her recovery, but to remove her lodgingn4283 and have some good physicians about her.

514SquelchWhere you please, and use whose help you please. She is your own; dispose of her freely, as I will of what is mine. I’ll take a new course of life directly. Let me see: she is lost, past recovery. Say I should marry, I might yet have an heir of mine own.

515TrainwellYes, but of whose getting, sir?

516SquelchThere might rise a fearful question.

517TrainwellThink not of it, sir. A man of your years and gravity, with the respect the world gives you for your place and worship in the commonwealth, together with the riches you have piled up in a mountainous estate. To cast all down with your self and fortune at the foot of a stranger! Think what would be thought of you if such a dotage should possess you.

518Squelch   [Aside]   She’s falling into a tedious lecture.

519TrainwellPray how was Master Spartledirt talked on t’other day for doing such a trick? Yet he was held a wise lawyer. You see a fair example in the late marriage of Sir Philip Luckless and his Fitchow — a match of your own making and cause of your niece’s, and your own, misfortune.

520SquelchNo more, I beseech you.

521TrainwellThere’s tugging for a mastery and buffetting for the breeches. He barks at her, she snaps at him; she breaks his wine-glass, he her looking-glass; she puts away his servants, he turns away hers; she locks her chamber-door, he bolts his, begetting nothing but a world of strife and disorder.

522SquelchI pray, shut up that point. I will not marry. No, directly, I will not; though the truth is my purpose was to have cast my self and fortune wholly upon you, if it might have seem’d well in your discretion; umh umh. —

523TrainwellI pray stay a little, sir, take me along with youn1858.

524SquelchNot a step further;   [Gestures to her to leave the room]   this way, by your leave.   [Aside]   I think I have puzzled her discretion.

525TrainwellUnderstand me, sir. As I would not have you fall rashly upon anything, no more would I have you fly suddenly from any purpose, without advice and sober deliberation. If you should marry one that would be a comfortable nurse unto you, as (though I say’t) you partly know—

526SquelchSay you nothing, for I do know nothing, nor I will know nothing more of this matter directly. For if ever I marry, let me suffer all that the law provides for perjuryn1726; let me be cropped and slitn1727 worse than a french curtalgg1511 or a parliamentaldelinquentgg687 for blaspheming the blood royalgg1512. No, I will now bestow my wealth in monumental good deeds and charitable uses in my lifetime, to be talked well on when I am dead.n1728

527TrainwellYes, build almshouses and hospitals for beggars and provide in Bridewelln11655 and houses of correction for your friends and kindred. Pray give enough to Bedlamn218 you may feel some part of that benefit yourself before you die if these fits hold you.

528Squelch   [Aside]   She would have do me no good with that I have neither.   [To TRAINWELL]   Let me consider, the most I have to say directly hath not been very well gotten. Were it not a point of good conscience to spend that prodigally and save a lewd heir the sin? And that which I have got well and honestly hath been with much care and traveln4285; were it not then a point of equity to myself to spend that with ease and pleasure? ’Tis done directly: what I have is mine own and I will be merry with itn1860.   [Calls offstage to CLERK]   Within there, ho?

529TrainwellWhat’s the toygg1976 now?
CLERK enters.

530SquelchSirrah, take there twenty pieces.   [Hands CLERK money]   Bestow it all presently in choicest meats and richest wines for my supper, this one night’s supper directly. What I have is mine own and I will be merry with it.


532SquelchSix brace of partridges and six pheasants in a dish. Godwits, knots, quails,n1861 and the rest of the meats answerable for half a scoren1862 or a dozen persons of the best quality, whom I will think of presently.

533Clerk   [Aside]   Brain of a downright justice! What means my master to leap out of thirty shillings a week housekeeping into twenty pounds a supper? I may sell my clerk’s place, for sure he means to thrust himself out of the commissionn1863. He can be no justice long, if this humour hold.   [To SQUELCH]   Who shall be the guests, troth?

534SquelchI have it directly. You shall go to the ordinariesgg1733 and from thence invite such young gallants as you find to be gamesters — I mean of the highest cutgg1977.

535TrainwellMen that you do not know, sir?

536SquelchAye, directly. If they know me, or have heard of me, ’tis sufficient; we shall be soon acquainted. Bring not a man with any paid for gold lace or scarletn4286 about him, I charge you, nor without a protectiongg1734 in his pocket.[CLERK exits.]

537TrainwellYou run a great hazard in this, sir. You may perhaps be cheated of all you have, if I have any discretion.

538SquelchAnd much good do’t their good hearts. What I have is mine own, and I will be merry with it directly. You have put me by one or two courses, but not all your discretion shall beat me out of this. If you take some care in the business and housewife the entertainment to make it bravegg343 for my credit, you may get a gown or a jewel by it. If not —

539TrainwellSir, I’ll obey you.   [Aside]   If he be mad, I will not be foolish but strike in for a share.   [To SQUELCH]   And for your guests, sir, let me alone; my man is best acquainted at the ordinaries.n1729

540SquelchWhy, now you speak!

541Trainwell   [Calling offstage to BEAVIS]   Within there, Beavis?   [To SQUELCH]   But in troth, sir, I doubt whether any such guests will come; you have always been so strict and terrible in your justiciary courses.
BEAVIS enters.

542SquelchLet him say mine eyes are opened and their virtue is revealed unto me. And if any of the youngsters have mistresses, let ’em bring ’em. They shall have music; what I have is mine own and I will be merry with it. My flesh, though not in the way of marriage, requires some satisfaction too. Where might a man in all this plentiful town find a choice piecegg508 directly that he might make his own, only his own? A very hard question and custom has made it almost an unreasonable one, though it were in one’s own wife. In a citizen’s or tradesman’s wife a man must suffer the rivalship of a slovenly husband, the stink of his hornsn1864 ever under one’s nose. A castgs209 lady or gentlewoman of courtly acquaintance? To maintain her is to feed a fountain that wants itself through many spouts. What I supply her with will be drawn out by twenty; all her friends must share of my prodigality. To train up an innocent country girl is like hatching a cuckoon1865; as soon as she is ripe and sees the world afore her, she flies at her advantage and leaves me dead i’ the nest. How now?
CLERK enters.

543ClerkSir, here’s a delinquentgg687 brought before your worship to be examined, a gentlewoman, sir.

544SquelchWho brings her?

545ClerkVexhem the constable, sir.

546SquelchLook on his feet; sure ’tis the devil in his likeness. That old bawd knowing how it stood with me has brought me one of his succubaegg1978 art. Sure ’tis Vexhem?

547ClerkSure, sir? The devil himself knows him not better than I know him from the devil. I am sure he has been in feegg1735 with me these nine years, almost ever since he was constable and has brought more profit to my desk than all the honest officers in the counties of your commissionn1866, sir. Oh, he’s a rare fellow; he’ll tickle a whore in coneyn1867.

548SquelchYou know my mind. I will in and handle this gear in privitygg1736.[CLERK and SQUELCH exit.]
NONSENSE [and] CONSTANCE enter. [NONSENSE is nursing a head injury.]

549Trainwell   [Aside to BEAVIS]   Beavis, you understand me; prithee go discreetly about it.

550BeavisPray, let me see a little of this first.

551NonsenseIf I put her to’t or ever offer to put any woman to’t again, never credit me, let me never be trusted. I protest and vow, gentlewoman, she has used me —

552TrainwellVery ill favouredly, methinks.

553BeavisHa’ you put her to’tn1856, sir?

554NonsenseI cannot put her to’tn1856, nor she will not be put to’t.n1730
[CONSTANCE sings]

555ConstanceI wo’ not go to’tn1868, nor I mun not go to’t,
        For love nor yet for free.
        For I am a maid and will be a maid
        And a good one till I die.
        Yet mine intent, I could repent, for any man’s company.

But you are not he, sir. If you be, you are wondrously changed. I am sure his faults were not written on his foreheadn1869. God pardon him.

556NonsenseIf mine be, you can best read ’em; ’tis your own handwritingn1870.

557Beavis   [Aside]   She has done a cure on him, he spoke sense now.   [To NONSENSE]   Alas, sir, that a fair hand should make such blots ! What hand is it? Secretary, roman, court, or text?n1871   [To TRAINWELL]   I have not seen the like; ’tis all dominical letters, red inkn1872. His face is like an almanac of all holy days.

558TrainwellSure ’tis stenographygg1737; every character a word, and here and there one for a whole sentence.

559BeavisHere’s one might serve for a whole history. The Life and Death of Raw-head and Bloody-Bonesn1873.

560NonsenseI see I am not such an ass. I would I might never stir but I am — Where’s Sir Paul? If I do not tell him—

561TrainwellWhat did you to provoke her thus?

562NonsenseNothing but what I can and were in a sort do you see me as well as— never gi’ me credit. I had warrant under his hand.

563BeavisHow, sir?

564NonsenseBy word of mouth, sir.

565BeavisThat’s above hand, by your leave.

566TrainwellIs it so? Good sir, his meaning was you should put her fairly on like a lover, with sweet speeches and gentle behaviourn1874.

567NonsenseShe understands nothing that I can speak.

568Beavis   [Aside]   Nor anybody else, I think.

569TrainwellAnd therefore you fell to express yourself in rude action? She has served you but well. You are a fine putter to’t, indeed.
[CONSTANCE sings]n4288

570ConstanceMun toot Mun toot, Mantar a ra ra Muntar a ra ra ra ree,
        And ever I sigh and cry alack for Philip’s love I die

Just so did our dairy maid at home serve my Lady Fiddledee’s butler, and there I learnt it. But when she had so done, what did she then do? Bestowed a pennyworth of unguentum albumgg1738 and it made him whole presently. Good Mistress Trainwell, send to your ’pothecary for some, ’twill make him weell e’en now.

571TrainwellAye, sweetheart; but first you shall go in the coach with me to the doctor’s.

572ConstanceI know I am not well too. But I’ll have no doctor but Sir Philip.

573TrainwellIt shall be Sir Philip.   [Aside]   Poor soul. All must be Sir Philip.   [To CONSTANCE]   You shall lie at his house.

574ConstanceBut not with him, by my faith, and your leave, in’t we be married. Prithee Beavis, gar himgg1739 wash his face, he’ll scare somebody’s barnsgg1740 else. — TRAINWELL and CONSTANCE exit.n1875.

575Beavis   [Aside]   I’ll throw him into the dock rather than he shall succeed, Jack o’ Dandygg1741.   [To NONSENSE]   Come, sir, all shall be well again. Fear not.

576NonsenseI thank you, sir.[BEAVIS and NONSENSE exit.]
3.3
LUCKLESS and TRIEDWELL enter.

577LucklessCousin, I understand you at full, and am glad that occasion hath pointed out a probability to lead me out of this labyrinth and you to your desired end.

578TriedwellFollow but the way you are in, sir, and you shall arrive at your own wishes.

579LucklessShe has put me into’t herself too.

580TriedwellBy sequestring herself from you the first night.

581Luc.For which, cousin, if I take not occasion to keep myself from her, all nights, days, and times hereafter, may the act of our bodies beget prodigious monsters and nothing else.

582TriedwellA fearful vow! Look to it, and I warrant she sues for the divorce first.

583LucklessMay we prove but as certain as you are confident in our other project for recalling Constance to herself, and me then to her, these fetters being shaken off, may they prove golden ones to you. I shall not envy you.

584TriedwellFor her take no thought, sir. The interest I have in her tutressn1876, with the work I have fashioned upon my Anvil shall bring all to your wish. I expect to hear from him instantly.

585LucklessI’ll freely resign your wish to you and add half I have to augment her estate to you. Oh, I tremble to think on her. Her presence shakes the house like an earthquake. The outrage of ’prenticesn1877 is not so terrible to a bawd or a cutpursen4277 as her voice is to me. Yet to you she may be calm as the breath of friendship and mild as the midnight whispers of chaste love.

586TriedwellSir, I profess my affection flies eagerly at her; she takes me deeply, however you have mistaken one another. Oh, here comes my Anvil! Methinks his very countenance invites me to strike him, though I know he does me good service now.
ANVIL enters.

587Anvil’Tis done, sir. I warrant she’s placed, successfullyn1878, d‘ye hear?

588TriedwellHow, prithee?

589AnvilI have sent her before his worship by a constable.

590LucklessWho has he sent? Before whose worship?

591TriedwellYou shall know all. He has sent your castgs209 whore before Sir Paul.

592LucklessThe mystery, gentlemen?

593TriedwellThe success shall unfold it in good time to your and my benefit. Doubt not, if she but follow her instructions.

594LucklessNay, if she be not mistress of her art there is no deceit among tradesmen, no bribery among officers, no bankrupt out of Ludgaten1879, nor whore out of Bridewelln11655.

595AnvilAnd if I ha’ not fitted her with a second, my friend Vexhem the constable, then say there is no wit among knaves, no want among scholars, no rest in the grave, nor unquietness in marriage, d’ye hear?

596LucklessOf which here comes the truest testimony.
FITCHOW, PATE, WIGEON, [and] HOWDEE enter.

597Fitchow   [Screaming at PATE]   Out of my doors, thou miscreant!

598Wigeon.Nay, sister. Oh, governor, art here?

599Fitchow   [To PATE]   Avoid my house and that presently. I’ll claw your skin off after your livery else and make you so much nakeder than time makes all other serving creatures.

600LucklessDo you talk of turning away my man? You shall give me leave to turn away your Howdee first, and then put off my ‘God a mercy, how dost thou?’

601FitchowAm I jeeredgg724? Flouted to my face? Is this fit usage for a wife?

602LucklessA wife? A witch!

603FitchowA husband? A hangman!

604LucklessOut, Puss!n1880

605TriedwellNay, sir, indeed the fault is yours most extremely now. Pray, sir, forbear to strain beyond a woman’s patience.

606FitchowAm I scorned and reviled?

607LucklessA ha, ha.

608FitchowMade a property for laughter?

609LucklessA ah, ha.

610FitchowHave I no friend? No servant to command?

611LucklessAh, ah, ha.

612FitchowHas my ladyship made me so lamentable a thing that I have lost the power of a mistress?   [To HOWDEE]   You, sir, run and call some friends to succour me or I’ll thrattlen4290 you.

613Luckless   [To HOWDEE]   Stir but a foot, sirrah, or utter but a syllable and I’ll cut your thrattle-pipe.

614Howdee   [Aside]   I shall be carved out betwixt them.

615Fitchow   [To WIGEON]   What will become of me? You woodcockn1881! Ninnihammern1882.

616WigeonHave you forgot my name, sister? Would not Wigeon become your mouth as well? Forget your natural brother’s name?

617FitchowCan you call me sister and see me abused thus?

618WigeonFoutregg1742 for sisters; I am not to meddle with another man’s wife. I am about one for myself; you mentioned her first to me. But I must be beholden to others’ wits and means to compass her or else.

619Luckless   [To HOWDEE]   Do as I bid you, or —

620HowdeeOh, sir, she’ll rend me in pieces, tear me like a larkn4291.

621LucklessDost thou fear her or me? Do’t or I—

622HowdeeSir, there’s Master Walter can sing it rarely.

623LucklessSo he shall, sir, and so will all. But you must put us inn4292. Begin.
[HOWDEE sings]

624HowdeeHey down, down, &cn1731

625WidgeonSister, wife, and all, is a present nothing to this. Come round, gentlemen. Keep her but off and let me alone.
They all take hands and dance round. WIGEON in the midst sings this song.n1883 They all bear the burden, while she scolds and strives to be amongst them. TRIEDWELL holds her off.
[WIGEON sings]

626WigeonHe that marries a scold, a scold.n1732
        He has most cause to be merry,
        For when she’s in her fits, he may cherish his wits,
        By singing down hey down derry.
[All sing]

627AllHey down down derry down down down, &c.
BULFINCH enters.

628BulfinchI cry you mercy, gallants. I apprehendn4293 you would be private.

629LucklessOh no, Master Bulfinch, you shall make one of our council.

630BulfinchI apprehend, gentlemen, you are merrily disposed in good sadness.

631WigeonApprehend a fool’s head! Come into play.

632AllAy, ay in with him, and about again.
They pull him into the round.
[Wigeon sings]

633WigeonHe that marries a merry lass,
        He has most cause to be sad;
        For let her go free in her merry tricks, she
        Will work his patience mad.
        But he that marries a scold, a scold, &c.
        He that weds with a roaring girln1885
        That will both scratch and bite;
        Though he study all day to make her away,
        Will be glad to please her at night.
        And he that copes with a sullen wench,
        That scarce will speak at all,
        Her doggedness more than a scold or a whore,
        Will perpetrategg3221 his gallgg1461.
[All sing]

634All.Hey down down, &c.
        He that’s matched with a turtle dove,
        That has no spleen about her,
        Shall waste so much life in the love of his wife,
        He were better be without her.
        But he that marries a scold, a scold, &c.

635FitchowOh, scorn upon scorn, torment upon torment. Let me rather be buried alive than bear this.   She gets loose.   Slaves, rascals, get ye all out of my doors! By virtue of my nails I charge you. I’ll not leave an eye or a nose amongst you.
Flies upon all.


637LucklessCome bouncing aftern1886, my boys.LUCKLESS exits singing.

638FitchowOh, how am I wronged?All exit, [exceptn1733] FITCHOW, TRIEDWELL [and] BULFINCH.

639BulfinchSure I did apprehend this mirth as right as could be possible the wrong way.

640TriedwellMadam, I see too much of your vexation, and indeed I suffer too much with you. As I am a gentleman, I will give you right friendly counsel if you will hear me.

641FitchowSir, I have perceived humanity in you and do love it in you. But I know not what to do nor whom to hear. I am fallen into the pit of bondage and will take any course for my redemption. Oh, Master Bulfinch!

642Triedwell   [Aside]   This will make to my purpose.

643FitchowSir, I am wronged beyond expression. This gentleman is an eye-witness of my sufferings. Pray come in, sir, I will hear your counsel together with this gentleman’s advice.

644BulfinchMadam, your case is in my apprehension most desperate, yet full of comfort in regard you seek advice and counsel. Mine is ever ready, and more fortunate oftentimes than judicious. For I do nothing but upon good reason and deliberation.[All exit.]

Edited by Julie Sanders



n4347   ACT THREE The central act opens in Luckless's household. Luckless is reading yet another letter from Constance asserting her honour and her undying love for him. Wigeon and Anvil disturb Luckless's peace with ill-judged encouragements to him to consummate (and thereby formalise) his wedding (it is still the evening of the wedding). Luckless asks Anvil how he came to be associated with the group of masquers seen in Act 2, and a typical rewriting of history on Anvil's part ensues in which he claims to have pursued Triedwell, purposing to exact revenge on him. He then betrays Triedwell's plot to Sir Philip saying that it was an attempt to prevent him consummating the match with Fitchow so that Triedwell could have her for himself. At this point a furious Triedwell enters and threatens more violence against the hapless Anvil. Fitchow, it appears, has refused to offer Luckless access to her bed and so Luckless and Triedwell retire to spend the night together (as was customary for male friends in this period). Wigeon now enlists Anvil's help to woo the northern lass. In the second scene we are in Squelch's household and find Sir Paul in a foul mood, insisting that Constance bend to his will and marry the man of his choosing, the young Cornish gentleman Salomon Nonsense. Trainwell tries to counsel more understanding treatment of Constance who has descended into a deep state of melancholy. In an aside we get a little of the back-story of Squelch and Trainwell. Trainwell was the housekeeper when Squelch's wife was alive and so they know each other well. Despite their surface wrangling, there is a sense that this is well-established relationship and that, for all his railing, Squelch values Trainwell’s presence in his life. Nonsense attempts to engage Constance in conversation but his own inarticulacy and her deep state of distress means this attempt founders in a series of half-sentences. At one point Nonsense feigns to be Sir Philip (the second character to do so thus far in the play) in the mistaken belief this may help 'cure' Constance, but this seems only to increase her anger and distress. In her melancholia, a kind of madness in early modern understanding, Constance sings and this brings to mind other Jacobean characters such as Ophelia in Hamlet and the Jailer’s daughter in Shakespeare and Fletcher’s The Two Noble Kinsmen. Nonsense is dispatched to attend to Constance when she runs offstage. In the meantime, Trainwell advises Squelch that Constance be removed from his household and attended to by doctors who might be able to cure her of her love-melancholy. Squelch grudgingly agrees to this and even at one point hints that he had considered marrying Trainwell but will now not marry again having seen what marriage means for Luckless and Fitchow (we hear from Trainwell of a highly unsettled household in which the couple shout at each other, use their servants as pawns in their disputes, and lock their bedroom doors against each other). Trainwell had invoked the Luckless-Fitchow example herself in order to dissuade Squelch from enforcing an arranged marriage on the vulnerable and fragile Constance. Squelch instead embarks upon a fit of spending and profligate behaviour. Summoning his clerk he orders him to arrange a fine supper and invite all the gamblers, gamesters and unreliable people of the town to attend it. He will be 'merry' with his money rather than bestow it on anyone else. This is clearly completely out of character and surprises the clerk. The local constable Vexhem then arrives with a woman to be examined by Sir Paul in his capacity as Justice of the Peace for Middlesex. Squelch instructs the clerk to show them in and in the meantime Nonsense and Constance return to the room, Nonsense clearly nursing a head injury he has received at her hands. Constance's songs have grown ever more confused and distressed and her behaviour has grown erratic. The scene is clearly unsettling for all onstage to witness and this feeling presumably transfers into watching members of the theatre audience. Trainwell takes Constance away to be seen by doctors as arranged with Squelch. In the third scene of this act, we find ourselves back in Luckless's troubled household (he describes Fitchow’s presense as shaking the place 'like an earthquake'). Triedwell appears to have filled Luckless in about his aims and intentions and the two men have become co-conspirators. There is yet more to reveal, however, as becomes apparent when Anvil arrives with news that he has successfully placed Sir Philip’s prostitute (Constance, really Camitha, Holdup as we will learn later is her name) in the J.P.'s household by means of Vexhem the constable. Everyone seems to be in on a very complex plot except Sir Paul and the hapless constable; in this respect Squelch is typical of early modern Justices who easily have the wool pulled over their eyes (compare Justice Adam Overdo in Ben Jonson’s Bartholomew Fair). Fitchow enters onstage screaming at her husband's servant Pate and sacking him on the spot. In retaliation, Luckless offers to sack Howdee. What we are seeing performed before our eyes are the kinds of household battles that defined the Luckless-Fitchow union in Trainwell's account in the previous scene. Wigeon attempts to dispel the tension through group song but Fitchow continues to rail all the while. Even the JP Bulfinch, who arrives belatedly into the scene, is pulled into the noise and chaos of the argument. A distressing sequence ensues in which Fitchow appears to be subjected to a kind of group bullying as the others sing over and against her. With most of the other characters having left the stage, Triedwell eventually offers her his understanding and sympathy and in her state of distress she agrees to accept his help. In an aside Triedwell reveals his pleasure that all his complicated plotting and counter-plotting is going to plan. [go to text]

gg583   melancholy a depressive illness, which in the seventeenth century was thought to be caused by an excess of ‘black bile’, one of the four humours controlling the well-being of the body and the mind [go to text]

gs547   dub To award a knighthood, but with an additional sexual connotation in this context. [go to text]

n1842   We wait for your points ‘Points’ or tagged laces from the bridegroom's clothes (usually fastening breeches to a doublet) were traditionally thrown to the wedding guests as souvenirs at early modern marriage ceremonies. Cf. Ben Jonson, The New Inn, 5.4.35 ‘Give us points, my lord.’ Anvil's meaning here is that everyone is anxious to see the culmination of the wedding ceremony when the bridegroom and bride retire to their bedroom to consummate the match. This follows on from Wigeon's anxiety that the marriage be consummated and his sister's status as wife of a titled gentleman confirmed in law. [go to text]

gg1722   points tagged laces (used as ties on garments, often securing breeches to a doublet) [go to text]

gg1434   posset’s bedtime drink made from hot milk curdled with ale, wine, or other liquor, flavoured with sugar, herbs, and spices; such were used medicinally, but were also commonly prepared for bridegrooms, or served to the whole wedding party in the seventeenth century (the posset pot used for weddings was generally a large two-handled jug with a lid and a spout, which was passed among the guests to toast the bridal pair); the posset settled into three layers after preparation: the milky foam at the top, a custard in the middle, and the alcohol mostly at the bottom (hence the spout for accessing it), the rest of the posset could be eaten with a spoon (several photographs of English posset pots are available on the internet) [go to text]

n4356   this society i.e. the group of masquers who appeared at Sir Philip Luckless's house in Act 2. [go to text]

n1843   which I thank Mars never yet failed me Mars was traditionally regarded as the god of war, hence he is the site of Anvil's appeal in this context. [go to text]

gg1723   greasy used as a contemptuous epithet (OED) [go to text]

n1844   Why he confessed he wronged me, was sorry for’t, and so forth. The audience is of course in the know that this is the opposite of what happened between Anvil and Triedwell and can enjoy his outrageous claims here for what they are. [go to text]

n4357   a separation before carnal copulation It was deemed possible in law to annul a marriage if it could be proven that the match had not been sexually consummated. It is on this legal point that Morose's divorce from Epicoene takes place in Ben Jonson's 1609 Epicoene. [go to text]

n4358   in statu quo prius That is: in your earlier or former (unwedded) state(Latin). [go to text]

gg583   melancholy a depressive illness, which in the seventeenth century was thought to be caused by an excess of ‘black bile’, one of the four humours controlling the well-being of the body and the mind [go to text]

n4278   There’s a canon for it, sir, if both parties agree to a divorce after marriage, so it be before copulation. Compare the divorce plotline in Ben Jonson's Epicoene, [go to text]

n2237   canon Compare the recourse to ecclesiastical law on marriage in Jonson’s Epicoene, 4.4.142-3: ‘Some divine must resolve you in that, sir, or canon lawyer.&8217; [go to text]

gg423   canon law, rule, edict (OED 2a) [go to text]

n1845   his charge is in the house at whose charge he lives i.e. Wigeon, Anvil's ‘charge’ in respect that he is his tutor, but also the person who he lives at the expense or ‘charge’ of. [go to text]

gg1724   covenant formally contract [go to text]

gg1724   covenants formally contract [go to text]

gg1725   barricados a hastily formed rampart of barrels, wagons, timber, stones, household furniture or other materials readily available thrown up to obstruct the advance of an enemy; used figuratively to refer to any barrier or obstruction to passage [go to text]

n4279   you shall be my bedfellow It was not uncommon for men to share a bed in a non-sexual context in this period. Compare Iago and Cassio in Othello and see Wigeon's reference later in the scene inviting Anvil to 'lie with me'. [go to text]

n4279   lie with me It was not uncommon for men to share a bed in a non-sexual context in this period. Compare Iago and Cassio in Othello and see Wigeon's reference later in the scene inviting Anvil to 'lie with me'. [go to text]

n4294   [WIGEON and ANVIL exit.] Exeunt in Q. [go to text]

gg1940   huswife a pejorative term for a hussy or worthless woman (OED housewife n. 2) [go to text]

n4359   Accept of him i.e. agree to marry Nonsense, the husband that Squelch has chosen for his niece. [go to text]

gg1143   portion dowry (monies, goods or lands brought by the wife to augment her husband’s estate on their marriage) [go to text]

gg1144   jointure marriage settlement (usually the part of a husband’s wealth or property that he elected to assign to his wife in the event of his death) [go to text]

n4360   consider her disease Trainwell refers to Constance's melancholia, held by many at this time to be a medical condition requiring curative treatment. [go to text]

gg583   melancholy a depressive illness, which in the seventeenth century was thought to be caused by an excess of ‘black bile’, one of the four humours controlling the well-being of the body and the mind [go to text]

n4280   to be purged An excess of a humour, such as the melancholy Constance is said to be suffering from, was often treated by purging. [go to text]

n1847   Now the gig’s up! A gig was a small carriage so the meaning here appears to be that Trainwell is now up and running in terms of her involvement in the argument with Sir Paul. [go to text]

gg1970   will in an early modern context: desire, longing, liking, inclination [go to text]

n4361   no moreovers I beseech you, nor more of her A fairly clunky pun on 'moreover' occurs in the latter part of this statement. [go to text]

n1848   My wife, when she went out of the world, left me as great a curse behind her in the charge she gave me with this woman This is an interesting little insight into the characters’ back-history. Sir Paul is a widow and Trainwell clearly worked as chambermaid to his late wife. When she died, Trainwell was effectively bequeathed to Sir Paul. This long knowledge of each other in part explains the intimacy between them that Sir Paul’s subsequent consideration of marriage to her implies. [go to text]

n1849   the Ward Master’s informers The Ward Master was a superintendent of Bethlehem Hospital (or 'Bedlam') where the supposedly insane were incarcerated. It was common practice to inform on suspected cases of insanity to the Ward Master (Fried). [go to text]

n1850   Yes, lady, I am Sir Philip The action here, where Nonsense is encoruaged to assume the persona of Sir Philip, the object of Constance's affection and distress, directly mimics that of Shakespeare and Fletcher’s The Two Noble Kinsmen, where in 5.2 the Wooer woos the distracted Jailer's daughter in the guise of Palamon. [go to text]

n1851   sparrow A common popular name for someone called Philip; see Sir Philip Sidney's Astrophil and Stella sonnet sequence where he puns on his own nickname as the sparrow. [go to text]

n1723   Constance Interestingly Constance reverts to a more decorous form of verse-speech here as she thinks of Sir Philip, as if his social status requires of her a different form of discourse. [go to text]

n4518   His words would soften adamantine ears. Video Constance switches into verse register here which seems to be the linguistic mode she adopts when remembering Sir Philip and when seeking to console herself . It is as if verse signifies the past and/or escapism, whereas the prose register is all too obviously located in an unhappy present for her. We explored these shifts of register in the voice workshop with Lynn Darnley and also looked at examples in the scenes of Constance's love-melancholy of what we have come to describe as Brome's tendency to switch into 'metrical prose' if not full verse at comparable moments of high emotion and/or remembrance. Linguistic form itself becomes a site of memory in this way for Constance. We explored other ways in which theatrical memory was also key to this scene, with Constance's state of mind expressed through song drawing obvious parallels for theatre-literate audiences with both Ophelia in Hamlet and the Jailer's Daughter in The Two Noble Kinsmen. The comparison with the latter is further enhanced by Nonsense's instruction to play the role of Sir Philip in this scene to 'cure' her of her melancholy, just as the Wooer is instructed to perform the role of Palamon to soothe the distressed Jailer's daughter in the Shakespeare and Fletcher tragicomedy. We chose to heighten this sense of intertheatricality when workshopping the scene by dressing Constance in a white nightgown and having her carry the salient prop of a bunch of flowers, in an obvious visual reference to Ophelia .

As ever the performing of stage madness is a difficult business for the actor and we experimented with this scene both with Beth Vyse in her sub-Ophelia guise of nightshirt and gown and with Sarah Edwardson in the voice workshop with Lynn Darnley. In both instances the moving quality of the scene - of the songs, but also of watching someone 'rocking' before us as Sarah put it so astutely - was palpable.

In reality, in concentrating on the high emotion of this scene, we did not capture the sense that Nonsense is a comic character in the rest of the play, although Adam Kay's performance as the silent witness of Constance's distress was in its own right very moving .
[go to text]

gg1726   adamantine with the qualities of adamant, i.e. incapable of being broken or penetrated [go to text]

n4281   O wea is me! woe is me (Northern dialect form). [go to text]

gg1727   gainest easiest (dialect) [go to text]

n1724   A bonny, bonny bird I had, 'Song' entered in right-hand margin (Q). [go to text]

n4362   A bonny, bonny bird I had, This song has been identified in New York Public Library MS Drexel 4041, n. 15 and New York Public Library MS Drexel 4257, n. 45 which attributes it to John Wilson (1595-1674) who was the main songwriter for the King's Men in this period, also contributing songs to plays by John Fletcher and John Ford. See Wood, 1991, vol. 2, Appendix 2, no. 4 (pp. 553-4). [With grateful thanks to Lucy Munro for work on the songs in The Northern Lass.] [go to text]

gg1728   playfere playmate (Northern dialect term) [go to text]

gg1729   Keep cut keep one's distance [go to text]

gg1973   bill to peck or kiss (OED v2. 3) [go to text]

n4471   ‘Philip, Philip, Philip’ it cries; ‘Philip, Philip,’ &c in Q. [go to text]

n4472   But he is fled and my joy dies. This repeat line is not actually reproduced in Q. I have repeated the refrain in full for the benefit of performers. The use of presenting text in this way became clear in the workshops when actors were working with the text often at very short notice. The printing convention of using '&c' reveals the intriguing status of songs in early modern playtexts. Often produced on papers separate from the main dialogue of a play they could become separated or confused in the printing house. Brome actually seems very careful to identify the songs in this play and the exact point where they should be performed but he is somewhat unusual in that. James Shirley is more inclined to indicate a 'Song' but no specific lyrics (there are examples of this practice in The Bird in a Cage (1633). Tiffany Stern has recently made the persuasive case for the role of songs as paper properties on the stage and I am indebted to her for sharing her work in this area. [go to text]

n1852   Juno’s bird with gaudy train Argus, the peacock who accompanied and guarded the goddess Juno. [go to text]

n1725   For his great namesake’s wealth of Spain Philip's namesake is Philip IV of Spain. Compare Constance's claim in 2.2 that she would not swap her position for the dowry of the Spanish Infanta. The Spanish court is being deployed proverbially here as both a symbol of great wealth and source of financially supported dynastic marriages. This would have resonated with late 1620s audiences who would have recent recall of James VI and I's attempts to marry the then Prince Charles to the Spanish Infanta in 1623/4. [go to text]

gg1613   Gin if, whether (OED, conj.; Scottish and dialect term; and records 1674 as its earliest example but this is clearly the sense here in Brome's usage) [go to text]

gg990   trim fine, neat, smart (clever) [go to text]

gg476   gear apparel, clothing (OED I, 1a) [go to text]

gg1730   Jenny Howlet a popular name for a small owl (or howlet, or owlet) [go to text]

gg1731   Tassel Gentle male falcon (tassel is an obsolete form of 'tercel') [go to text]

gg1732   eene eane only one (dialect) [go to text]

n4515   thus would he kiss his hand; and thus take me by mine. There seems in this a memory of the references to hands and hand-kissing that played such a central part in Constance's memory of her first encounter with Sir Philip, as she recalled it to Trainwell at 2.2. of the play [NOTE n4342]. [go to text]

n4282   God you good even, sir.— Goodbye. The line is a deliberate echo of Ophelia's mad scene in Hamlet. [go to text]

n1856   put her to’t force her (Fried). [go to text]

n1854   out of this humour Melancholy was believed to be a product of an imbalance of black bile in human physiognomy, one of the four 'humours' of popular medical belief. The representation of these 'humours' had become popular on the early modern stage in the early comedies of Ben Jonson. [go to text]

gg1143   portion dowry (monies, goods or lands brought by the wife to augment her husband’s estate on their marriage) [go to text]

n1857   bring her about restore her to her right mind [go to text]

gg61   handsomely courteously (OED 5a); liberally (5b); cleverly, skilfully [go to text]

gg2999   gear goods, merchandise, stuff (but in a depreciatory sense, meaning rubbish) but also in slang at this date may punningly refer to the sexual organs, much like the twenty-first century use of the word, tackle (OED gear n, 9a, 10 and 5b) [go to text]

n4283   remove her lodging i.e. move her from where she is currently staying [go to text]

n1858   take me along with you inform me of your meaning [go to text]

n1726   if ever I marry, let me suffer all that the law provides for perjury Compare Benedick's declaration against his marrying in Much Ado About Nothing, 1.1.245-50. [go to text]

n1727   cropped and slit The reference is to the common punishment for those convicted of libel, slander, and blasphemy, which was the cropping of the ears and the slitting of the nose, usually carried out in public. It was, famously, the punishment endured twice by the puritan pamphleteer William Prynne in the 1630s; see McRae (2006), pp. 171-88. [go to text]

gg1511   curtal horse with a docked or cropped tail; but also therefore used figuratively of someone whose ears had been cropped as a form of official punishment [go to text]

gg687   delinquent offender [go to text]

gg1512   blood royal royal race or family [go to text]

n1728   I will now bestow my wealth in monumental good deeds and charitable uses in my lifetime, to be talked well on when I am dead. Compare Subtle's account of the plans Sir Epicure Mammon has for how he will spend the exorbitant wealth he expects to acquire from the secrets of alchemy in Ben Jonson's The Alchemist, 1.1.17-29. [go to text]

n11655   Bridewell A former palace on the west side of the Fleet Ditch near the River Thames, originally bequested by Edward IV as a workhouse for the poor, it was by the Caroline period a prison for women and with a particular association with punishment relating to sex crimes and prostitution. [go to text]

n218   Bedlam Bethlehem Hospital, London, formerly the Priory of St. Mary of Bethlehem. After 1402 it became where the mentally infirm were placed. [go to text]

n4285   travel Brome frequently uses this word in a punning sense to suggest travail or hardship. [go to text]

n1860   I will be merry with it This rapidly becomes Sir Paul's second catchphrase in the play. [go to text]

gg1976   toy trick (OED n. 2) [go to text]

n1861   Godwits, knots, quails, All marsh, coastal, or wetland birds which were commonly used in early modern recipes. [go to text]

n1862   answerable for half a score a sum equal to ten (Fried). [go to text]

n1863   to thrust himself out of the commission to get himself removed from the Commission of the Peace which appointed and empowered justices of the peace. [go to text]

gg1733   ordinaries dining places, much favoured by city gallants, who also used the rooms for gambling and other nefarious activities (Caroline dramatist William Cartwright wrote a play called The Ordinary) [go to text]

gg1977   cut fashion (OED n2. III 17a) [go to text]

n4286   paid for gold lace or scarlet Expensive items of clothing (such as gold lace) were regularly hired or rented in this period. [go to text]

gg1734   protection a passport or document of safe conduct, traditionally issued by a monarch [go to text]

gg343   brave splendid [go to text]

n1729   my man is best acquainted at the ordinaries. Her implication is that Beavis hangs out in taverns when not working. [go to text]

gg508   piece a woman, usually with the connotation of being a sexual object (OED II 9b) [go to text]

n1864   his horns i.e. the horns of a cuckold (a husband whose wife has been sleeping around) [go to text]

gs209   cast rejected (here used of a person) [go to text]

n1865   hatching a cuckoo The cuckoo tends to lay its eggs in the nests of other, smaller birds (which means the parents often exhaust themselves and starve their own young to feed their unexpected charge). [go to text]

gg687   delinquent offender [go to text]

gg1978   succubae devilish (a succubus was a devil or spirit, often in female form) [go to text]

gg1735   in fee in league [go to text]

n1866   has brought more profit to my desk than all the honest officers in the counties of your commission This casual reference to the corruption endemic in local government is typical of the satire on JPs and their commissions in Brome's drama. Compare, for example, the role of Justice Clack in A Jovial Crew. Local government was also examined in Ben Jonson's Caroline drama, A Tale of a Tub (see Butler, 1992; Sanders, 1997). [go to text]

n1867   tickle a whore in coney The sense is slightly obscure, but presumably he'll do deals with prostitutes dressed in furs (that is to say those who can cut a financial deal with him). [go to text]

gg1736   privity secret, privacy [go to text]

n1856   put her to’t force her (Fried). [go to text]

n1730   I cannot put her to’t, nor she will not be put to’t. Sing in righthand margin (Q). [go to text]

n1856   put her to’t force her (Fried). [go to text]

n1868   go to’t Copulate (usually applied to animals, though here intended to shock in terms of Constance's sexually explicit reference to herself. In a manner directly akin to Ophelia in her mad scenes in Hamlet, Constance's madness renders her discourse and in particular her ballad-singing full of obscenities. [go to text]

n1869   written on his forehead Constance has, we learn, hit out at Nonsense, so presumably his forehead bears the red marks of her blows and therefore betray his advances to her to the world. [go to text]

n1870   ’tis your own handwriting i.e the marks on my forehead were made by your hands. [go to text]

n1871   Secretary, roman, court, or text? These are all types of handwriting common to the early modern period. The joke continues the notion of Constance's blows acting as handwriting on Nonsense's forehead. [go to text]

n1872   ’tis all dominical letters, red ink Dominical letters were calendar letters, usually in red, used to denote Sundays (hence the modern phrase for holidays as 'red-letter days'). The joke continues the interpretation of the red marks on Nonsense's head caused by Constance's blows as 'handwriting'. [go to text]

gg1737   stenography the art of writing in shorthand [go to text]

n1873   The Life and Death of Raw-head and Bloody-Bones An invented ballad. Ballads and broadsides of this kind celebrating the lives of violent highwaymen and sea pirates were very popular at this time. [go to text]

n1874   his meaning was you should put her fairly on like a lover, with sweet speeches and gentle behaviour Though this is actually an over-generous reading of Sir Paul's instruction to Nonsense to 'put her to't'. [go to text]

n4288   [CONSTANCE sings] This stage direction was placed after Trainwell's preceding line in the right margin in Q. [go to text]

gg1738   unguentum album white salve or ointment [go to text]

gg1739   gar him get him to (dialect) [go to text]

gg1740   barns children or young ones; see also 'bairns' (Northern dialect) [go to text]

n1875   TRAINWELL and CONSTANCE exit. Ex. with Tra. (Q). [go to text]

gg1741   Jack o’ Dandy conceited fellow: a contemptuous name for a fop or a dandy (OED) [go to text]

n1876   tutress The reference is to Trainwell, Constance's governess. [go to text]

n1877   The outrage of ’prentices Apprentices in London were renowned for their violent behaviour especially on public holidays. [go to text]

n4277   not so terrible to a bawd or a cutpurse Compare the Induction to Jonson's Bartholomew Fair, lines 31-3 where reference is made to young Inns of Court men tormenting prostitutes: 'a punk set unnder upon her head, with her stern upward, and ha' been soused by my witty young masters o' the Inns o' Court?'. [go to text]

n1878   she’s placed, successfully The reference, as will become clear, is to Constance [Camitha] Holdup, who has been sent before Sir Paul Squelch in his capacity as a Justice of the Peace. Thankfully for the audience, Sir Philip Luckless is as clueless as we are about the plot at this stage and so asks his interlocuters for an explanation. [go to text]

gs209   cast rejected (here used of a person) [go to text]

n1879   Ludgate Originally one of the old gateways to London. Ludgate was made a debtors' prison during the reign of Richard II. [go to text]

n11655   Bridewell A former palace on the west side of the Fleet Ditch near the River Thames, originally bequested by Edward IV as a workhouse for the poor, it was by the Caroline period a prison for women and with a particular association with punishment relating to sex crimes and prostitution. [go to text]

gg724   jeered mocked [go to text]

n1880   Puss! term of contempt for a woman. [go to text]

n4290   thrattle i.e. throttle [go to text]

n1881   woodcock [go to text]

n1882   Ninnihammer A simpleton. [go to text]

gg1742   Foutre to care not a fouter (jot) for [go to text]

n4291   tear me like a lark Larks were a common foodstuff in the early modern period and their small carcasses were easily torn by hand. [go to text]

n4292   put us in start us off, get us in tune [go to text]

n1731   Hey down, down, &c sing in righthand margin (Q). [go to text]

n1883   They all take hands and dance round. WIGEON in the midst sings this song. This is a fascinating moment of stage business which would seem to confirm Brome's strong interest in musical forms in this play. It does nothing in plot terms as such (unlike some inset dramas and dances in plays by Brome, Massinger, and others in this period) but becomes an interesting image of male bonding (to the physical exclusion of Fitchow in this scene) through ballad singing and jigs. Music's potential to act as a social glue in this play should not be underestimated.
Wigeon has already been identified in the play as an avid collector of ballads so it seems apt that he should be the one to deliver the song on this occasion.
[go to text]

n1732   He that marries a scold, a scold. Song. in righthand margin (Q). [go to text]

n4293   apprehend Bulfinch's use of this term is a character trait that defines him throughout this play. He often uses it to mean 'understand' though in his role as a Justice of the Peace it could also mean to arrest someone. The further irony is that Bulfinch rarely does fully apprehend the situation he is in, a fact brought cruelly and comically to light in the fifth act mock-trial scene. [go to text]

n1885   roaring girl swaggering woman. Middleton's play The Roaring Girl had been published in 1611. [go to text]

gg3221   perpetrate (v) produce, cause, provoke [go to text]

gg1461   gall bitter secretion of the liver, bile; used figuratively to suggest bitterness, rancour, esp. as the result of injury or insult (OED n1. 1 and 3b) [go to text]

n1886   bouncing after Fried speculates that this could also be a line from a ballad or from a children's game (the scene's use of song as a means of the performance of highly gendered acts of social inclusion and exclusion has much kinship with the potential cruelties of children's games). [go to text]

n1733   except proeter (Q) [go to text]