THE SPARAGUS GARDEN
A COMEDY.

The Persons in the Comedy.

GILBERT [Goldwiren7153]
WALTER [Chamletn7154]
}young gentlemen and friends.
[Samson] TOUCHWOODn5624
[William] STRIKER
}old adversaries and Justices.
SAMUEL, son to Touchwood.
[Sir Hugh] MONEYLACKS, a needy knight, that lives by shiftsgg1020.
[John] BRITTLEWARE, confederate with Moneylacks.
Tim[othy] HOYDENgg3964, the new made gentleman.
COULTER, his man.
Thomas [TOM] Hoydengg3964, Tim[othy] Hoyden’s [half] brother.
Sir Arnold CAUTIOUS, a stalegg4083 bachelor and a ridiculous lover of women.
A GARDENER.n7155
[Ambodextern7156] TRAMPLER, a lawyer.
[Master Pancridgen7157, the] CURATE
[Two LITTERMEN or Sedan carriers]
Three COURTIERS.
ANNABEL, daughter to Moneylacks and grandchild to Striker.
[Fid] FRISWOOD, her nurse, and housekeeper to Striker [and also aunt to Rebecca Brittleware].
REBECCA, wife to Brittleware [and Friswood’s niece].
MARTHA, the gardener’s [Dutch] wife.
Three LADIES.
[BOY.]
[SPRING.]
[A CITY WIFE.]
[A GENTLEMAN.]
[A SERVANT]

The Prologue to the Play.


2Prologue.He, that his wontedgg2663 modesty retains,
        And never set a price upon his brains
        Above your judgment,: nor did ever strive
        By arrogance or ambition to achieve
        More praise unto himself, or more applause
        Unto his scenes, than such as know the laws
        Of comedy do give; he only those
        Now prays may scan his verse and weigh his prose:
        Yet thus far he thinks meet to let you know
        Before you see’t: the subject is so low,
        That to expect high language or much cost,
        Were a sure way, now, to make all be lost.
        Pray look for none. He’ll promise such hereafter
        To take your graver judgments; now your laughter
        Is all he aims to move. I had more to say —
        The title, too, may prejudice the play.
        It says 'The Sparagus Garden'. If you look
        To feast on that, the title spoils the book.
        We have yet a taste of it, which he doth lay
        I’th midst o’the journeyn7158, like a bait by th’ way:
        Now see with candour: as our poet’s free,
        Pray let be so your ingenuity.

ACT ONEn7159
1.1
WALTER and GILBERT [enter].n5622

3WalterI fear we shall do no good upon him.

4GilbertWe shall nevertheless discharge the office of friends in our endeavour. I mean to put it home to him.

5WalterAnd so will I.

6GilbertBut be sure you lie at a close wardgg3788 the while; for he is a most subtle and dangerous fencer to deal withal.n7160

7WalterI understand you.

8GilbertHe has not his name for nothing, old Touchwood!n5624 He’s all fire if he be incensed, but so soft and gentle that you may wind him about your finger, or carry him in your bosom, if you handle him rightly. But, still, be wary, for the least spark kindles him. He comes.
[TOUCHWOOD enters.]

9TouchwoodWith me, gentlemen?

10GilbertOnly a few neighbourly and friendly wordsn7161, sir.

11TouchwoodOh, you are most friendly welcome, good Master Gilbert Goldwire.   [Offers his hand to GILBERT and then turns to WALTER]   And Master Walter Chamlet, I take ye to be?

12Gilbert and Walter [together]n9776The same, sir, at your service.

13TouchwoodYour fathers both were my good neighboursn7163, indeed; worthy and well reputed members of the city while they lived. But that may be read upon the hospital walls and gatesn5625; it is enough for me to say they loved me, Samsonn7162 Touchwood. And I were a wretch if I should not honour their memory in their happy succession. Again, gentlemen, you are welcome.

14GilbertYet you may be pleased, sir, to remember, though our fathers were both loving friends to you, yet they were sometimes at odds one with another.

15TouchwoodTrue, true, ever at odds. They were the common talk of the town for a pair of wranglersgg1007. Still at strife for one trifle or other, they were at law loggerheadsgg3850n5626 together in one match that held ’em tugging th’one the t’other by the purse-strings a matter of nine years, and all for a matter of nothing. They coursedgg3851 one another from court to court, and through every court, temporal and spiritual, and held one another playn5708 till they lost a thousand pound a man to the lawyers, and till it was very sufficiently adjudged that your father was one fool, and your father was another fool. And so again, gentlemen, you are welcome. Now, your business?

16WalterYou may now be pleased, sir, to remember that our fathers grew friends at last.

17TouchwoodHeaven forbid else!

18GilbertAnd note the cause, the ground of their reconciliation, which was upon the love betwixt me and this gentleman’s sister. My father’s son married his father’s daughter, and our two fathers grew friends and wise men again.

19TouchwoodTo the point, good gentlemen; yet, you are welcome.

20GilbertTroth, sir, the point is this: you know (and the town has ta’en sufficient notice of it) that there has been a long contention betwixt you and old Master Striker your neighbour –


22GilbertAnd the cause or ground of your quarrel (for aught anybody knows but yourselves) may be as trivial as that which was derided in our fathers.

23TouchwoodAre you there with me?n5709

24GilbertAnd great hopes there are and wagersgg4099, laid by your friends on both sides, that you two will be friends.

25TouchwoodI’ll hold you an hundred pounds o’ that.

26GilbertNay, more, that Master Striker will be willing to give his grandchild to your son, so you’ll give your consent.

27TouchwoodAnd your coming is to persuade that, is it not? If it be so, speak; deal plainly with me, gentlemen, whilst yet you are welcome.

28WalterInsooth it is so, we come to negotiate the match for your son, and your friendship with old Master Striker.

29TouchwoodYou are not welcome.

30GilbertBut when you weigh the reasons and consider the perfect love of the young pair, and how the world will praise your reconciliation and bless the providence that made their loves the means to work their parents’ charity?

31TouchwoodAgain? You are not welcome.

32GilbertYourself but now commended the atonementgg1494
        Of our two fathers, wrought by the same means:
        I mean my marriage with his sister here
        Against as great an opposition.

33WalterBut our fathers loved their children.

34TouchwoodYour fathers were a couple of doting fools, and you a pair of saucy knaves. Now you are not welcome; and more than so, get you out of my doors!

35GilbertWill you sir, by your wilfulness, cast away your son?

36TouchwoodMy son? No son of mine, I have cast him off already for casting an eye upon the daughter of mine enemy. Let him go; let him pack; let him perish. He comes not within these doors; and you, that are his fine spoken spokesmen, get you off o’my ground, I charge you.

37WalterWe are gone, sir: only but wishing you Master Touchwood to remember that your son’s your son.

38TouchwoodIndefinitely not, sir; until he does not only renounce all interest in the love of that baggage, but do some extraordinary mischief in that family to right me for the trespass he has done; and so win my good opinion, till which be done a daily curse of mine he shall not miss; and so you may inform him.[TOUCHWOOD] Exit[s].

39GilbertWhat an uncharitable wretch is this?

40WalterThe touchiest piece of Touchwood that e’er I met withal.

41GilbertI feared we should inflame him.

42WalterAll the comfort is his son may yet outlive him.

43GilbertBut the danger is his father may disinherit him.

44WalterHe cannot be so devilish.    [SAMUEL enters, deep in contemplation.]n5628    Here comes his son, a gentleman of so sweet a disposition and so contrary to his crabbedgg3852 sire that a man who never heard of his mother’s virtue might wonder who got him for him.

45GilbertNot at all I assure you. Sam is his father’s known son, for the old man, you see, is gentle enough till he be incensed; and the son, being moved, is as fiery as the father.

46WalterBut he is very seldom and slowly moved; his father often and o’the sudden.

47GilbertAye, prithee, would’st thou have green woodn5627 take fire as soon as that which is old and seregg3365?

48WalterHe is deep in thought.

49GilbertOver head and ears in his Mistress Contemplation.

50SamuelTo disobey a father is a crimen5629
        In any son unpardonable. Is this rule
        So general that it can bear no exception?
        Or is a father’s power so illimitable
        As to command his son’s affections
        And so control the conqueror of all men
        Even Love himselfn5630? No: he, that enterprises
        So great a work forgets he is a man;
        And must in that forget he is a father,
        And so if he forgogg4202 his nature, I
        By the same law may leave my piety.
        But, stay, I would not lose myself in following
        This wild conceitgg1526.

51GilbertHow now, Sam, whither away?

52SamuelI was but castinggg58 how to find the way
        Unto myself. Can you direct me, gentlemen?

53WalterYes, yes; your father has told us the way.

54SamuelHa’ you had conference with him? Ha’ye? Speak!

55GilbertMarry, sir, ha’we, and I think to purpose.

56SamuelHa’ you won ought upon him to my advantage?

57WalterAs much as may restore you to acquaintance
        With him again, can you but make good use on’t.

58SamuelPray do not trifle with me; tell me briefly.

59GilbertBriefly, he says you must not dare to see him;
        Nor hope to receive blessing to the value
        Of a new threepence, till you disclaim your love
        In your fair Annabel; and not only so,
        But you must do some villanous mischievous act
        To vex his adversary, her grandfather,
        Or walk beneath his curse in banishment.

60SamuelA most uncharitable and unnatural sentence!

61WalterBut think withal it is your father that
        Makes this decree. Obey him in the execution.
        He has a great estate, you are his only son:
        Do not lose him, your fortune, and yourself
        For a frail piecegg508 of beauty: shake her off,
        And do some notable thing against her house.
        To please your father.

62SamuelThe devil speaks it in thee,
        And with this spell I must conjure him out.[SAMUEL] Draw[s his sword].

63GilbertOh, friend, you are too violent.

64SamuelHe’s too desperategg300
        To urge me to an act of such injustice!
        Can her fair love, to whom my faith is given,
        Be answered with so loudgg4823 an injury?
        Or can my faith so broken yield a sound
        Less terrible than thunder to affright
        All love and constancy out of the breast
        Of every virgin that shall hear the breach
        Of my firm faith?

65GilbertBe not so passionate!

66SamuelI have no further power to do an outrage
        Against that family to whom my heart
        Is linked, than to rip out this troubled heart
        The only ominous cause, indeed, of all –
        My over-passionate father’s cruelty. And that
        (If I must needs do an injurious office)
        Alone, shall be my act to calm his fury.

67GilbertPrithee, blow o’er this passion. Thou wert wont
        To affect wit, and canst not be a lover
        Truly without it. Love is wit itself,
        And through a thousand letsgg3285 will find a way
        To his desired end.

68SamuelThe ballet taught you that.n5631
[SAMUEL lets his sword fall again.]

69GilbertWell said. Love will find out the way.
        I see thou art coming to thy self again.
        Can there no shiftgg3164, no witty slight, be found
        (That have been common in all times and ages)
        To blind the eyes of a weak-sighted father,
        And reconcile these dangerous differences
        But by blood-shedding or outrageous deeds,
        To make the feud the greater? Recollect
        Thyself, good Sam; my house, my purse, my counsel
        Shall all be thine, and Wat shall be thy friend.

70WalterLet me entreat your friendship.

71SamuelAnd me your pardon.
[SAMUEL and WALTER shake handsn5711.]

72GilbertSo, so, all friends; let’s home and there consult
        To laygg4824 the tempest of thy father’s fury;
        Which cannot long be dangerous; ’tis but like
        A storm in April, spentgg2965 in swift extremes
        When straight the sun shoots forth his cheerful beams.[GILBERT, SAMUEL, and WALTER] Ex[it].
1.2n7410
STRIKER and MONEYLACKS [enter].

73StrikerYou will not assault me in mine own housen5712? I hope you will not; nor urge me beyond my patience with your borrowing attempts! Good Sir Hugh Moneylacks, I hope you will not.

74MoneylacksI hope I moved you not, but in fair language, sir;
        Nor spoke a syllable that might offend you.
        I have not used the word of ‘loan’ or ‘borrowing’;
        Only some private conference I requested.

75StrikerPrivate conference! A new coined word for borrowing of money. I tell you, your very face, your countenance (though it be glossedn5632 with knighthood) looks so borrowingly that the best words you give me are as dreadful as ‘Stand and delivern5714’ and there I think I was wi’yen5713. I am plain wi’ye, sir, old Will Striker, aye.

76MoneylacksMy father Striker, I am bold to call you.

77StrikerYour father! No, I desire no such near acquaintance with you, good Sir Hugh Moneylacks: you are a knight and a noble gentleman and I am but an esquire and out of debt; and there I think I was wi’ye again.

78MoneylacksI shall be with you, anon, when you have talked yourself out of breath.

79Striker’Tis true I had the honour to be your worship’s father in law when time was that your knighthood married and ladifiedgg3855 a poor daughter of mine. But yet she had five thousand pounds in her purse, if you please to remember it; and, as I remember, you had then fourteen hundred a year: but where is it now? And where is my daughter now? Poor abused innocent; your riotousness abroad and her long night watches at home shortened her days and cast her into her grave – And ’twas not long before all your estate was buried too; and there I was wi’ye again, I take it. But that could not fetch her againn7164.

80MoneylacksNo sir, I wish my life might have excused
        Hers, far more precious. Never had a man
        A juster cause to mourn.

81StrikerNor mourned more justly: it is your only wearingn5633. You have just none other, nor have had means to purchase better any time these seven years as I take it. By which means you have got the name of the mourning knight; and there I am sure I was wi’ye.

82MoneylacksSir, if you will not be pleased to hear my desires to you, let me depart without your derision.

83StrikerEven when you please, and whither you please, good Sir Hugh Moneylacks: my house shall be no enchanted castle to detain your knight-errantship from your adventuresn5634. I hope your errand hither was but for your dinner, and so far forth (and especially at your going forth) you are welcome. Your daughter I do keep, and will for her poor mother’s sake that was my daughter, peace be with her. She shall be no more a trouble to you, nor be your child any longer: I have made her mine. I will adopt her into mine own namen5636 and make her a Striker; she shall be no more a Moneylacks, and if she please me well in matching with a husband, I know what I will do for her.

84MoneylacksI thank you, sir.

85StrikerDo you thank me, sir? I assure you you need not; for I mean so to order her estate and bind it up in that trust that you shall never finger a farthing on’t: am I wi’ye, sir?

86MoneylacksI cannot choose but thank you though in behalf of my child.

87StrikerCall her your child again, or let me but hear that you suffer her to ask you a bare blessing, I’ll send her after you upon adventures, Sir Knight: and who shall give a portiongg1143 with her then? Or what can she hope from a father that groans under the weight of a knighthood for want of means to support it?

88MoneylacksI shall find means to live without your trouble hereafter.

89StrikerYou may, you may. You have a wit, Sir Hugh, and a projective onen5637. What, have you some new projectgg3544 afoot now to outgo that of the handbarrowsn7165 – what call you ’em, the sedansn5638? Oh, cry you mercy, cry you mercy; I heard you had put in for a share at the Asparagus Gardenn5635, or that at least you have a pensiongg4825 thence – to be their gather-guestn7166 and bring ’em custom – and that you play the Fly of The New Innn5639 there and sip with all companies. Am I wi’ye there, sir?

90MoneylacksYou may be when you please, sir. I can command the best entertainment there for your money.

91StrikerIn good time, sir.

92MoneylacksIn the meantime, sir, I had no mind to beg nor borrow of you, and though you will not give me leave to call you father, nor my daughter my daughter, yet I thought it might become my care to advertisegg3856 you (that have taken the care of her from me) of a danger that will much afflict you, if it be not carefully prevented.

93StrikerHow’s this?

94MoneylacksYou have an adversary –

95StrikerBut one that I know, the rascal, my neighbour Touchwood.

96MoneylacksThere I am wi’ye, sir. I am informed that his only son is an earnest suitor to your daughter (I must not call her mine)

97StrikerHow’s that?

98MoneylacksThat there is a deep secret love betwixt ’em; and that they have had many private meetings; and a stolen match very likely to be made if you prevent it not.

99StrikerCan this be true?

100MoneylacksGive me but a piecegg2873 from you, and if by due examination you find it not so, I’ll never see your face again till you send for me.

101StrikerTo be rid of you, take it.Gives [MONEYLACKS the money].

102MoneylacksI am gone, sir, and yet I think I’m wi’ye.[MONEYLACKS] Exit[s].

103StrikerIs the devil become a match-brokern7167? What, who within there? What?[He calls offstage]
        Annabel? What, Friswood?
FRISWOOD [enters]

104FriswoodHere, sir, I am here forsooth.

105StrikerAre you so, forsooth? But where’s your mistress, forsooth?

106Friswood   [Aside]n5640   Listening is good sometimes; I heard their talk, and am glad on’t.

107StrikerWhere is your mistress, I say?

108FriswoodMy mistress, Annabel, forsooth, my young mistress?

109StrikerWhat other mistress hast thou but the devil’s dam herself, your old mistressn5641? And her I ask not for, good Mistress Flibber de Jibbn5642 with the French fly-flapgs710 o’your coxcomb.

110Friswood   [Aside]   Is the old man mad trow?

111StrikerI ask for Annabel.

112FriswoodBless me, how do you look!

113StrikerWhere’s Annabel I say? Fetch her me quickly, lest I beat her out of your old white-leather hiden5643.

114FriswoodHow youthful you are grown! She is not far to fetch, sir; you know you commanded her to her chamber and not to appear in sight till her debauched father was gone out o’the house.

115StrikerAnd is not he gone now forsooth? Why call you her not?

116FriswoodI warrant he has told you some tale on her. That lewdgg733 knight, now he has undone himself by his unthrifty practices, begins to practise the undoing of his daughter too! Is it not so forsooth? Has he not put some wickedness into your head to set you against her?

117StrikerI never knew thee a witch till now.

118FriswoodHa, ha, ha; I warrant he told you that your adversary Touchwood’s son and my mistress Annabel are in love-league togethern7168.

119StrikerMarry did he; and I will know the truth.

120FriswoodHa, ha, ha!

121StrikerDarest thou laugh at me?

122FriswoodNo, no; but I laugh at the poor knight’s officiousness in hope of some great reward for the gullerygg2480 that I put upon him: ha, ha, han5716. Good sir, a little patience, and I will tell you. Ha, ha, ha – ’twas I that devised it for a lie, and told it him in hope that his telling it to you would provoke you to beat him out o’the house for reporting a thing that had had no probability or resemblance of truth in it.

123StrikerIs it but so?

124FriswoodSir, I have been your creaturegg40 this thirty years, down lying and uprisingn5644 (as you know), and you should believe me. You had me in my old mistress’s days ――

125StrikerAye, thou wast a handsome young wench then; now thou art old.

126FriswoodYet not so wondrous old as to be sung in a balletn5645 for’t, or to have been able ere Adam wore beard to have crept into Eve’s bed, as I did into my mistress’sn5646. Heaven pardon you, as I do with all my heart.Weep[s].

127StrikerWhat in thy fooleries now?

128FriswoodNor so old neither but you are content to make a sorry shiftgg3794 with me still, as your abilities will serve youn5717 ――Weep[s].

129StrikerCome, come; thou art not old.

130FriswoodNay that’s not what troubles me; but that I, that served you before your daughter was born – I mean your daughter that was mother to this daughter which now you have made your daughtern5718 – that I that saw the birth, the marriage, and the death of your daughter and have had the governance of this her daughter ever since, till now she is marriageable; and have all this while been as pliant as a twig about you, and as true as the sheath to your steeln5719, as we say, that I should now be mistrusted to connive at an ill match for her, for whom my chiefest care has been from the cradle? There’s the unkindness.Weep[s].

131StrikerEnough, enough; Fidn5648, I believe there is no such matter.

132FriswoodI thought you had known me–Weep[s].

133StrikerI do, I do; I prithee, good Fidn5648, be quiet, it was a witty trick of thee to mock the poor knight withal. But, a pox on him, he cost me a piecegg2873 for his news. There’s another for thee:   [Gives FRISWOOD some money.]   but the best is he hath tied himself by it never to trouble me more; I have that into my bargain.

134FriswoodAnd you would tie me so, too, would you?[She tries to give the money back to him.]

135StrikerNot so, Fid, not so; but look to my girl, and thus far mark me: if ever I find that young Touchwood, the son of that miscreantgg4826 whose hatred I would not lose for all the good neighbourhood in the parishn5720; if ever I say, he and your charge do but look upon one another, I’ll turn her and you both out o’ doors. There I will be wi’ye, look to’t.

136FriswoodAgreed, sir; agreed.

137StrikerLook to’t, I say. I must abroad; my anger is not over yet. I would l could meet my adversary to scold it out; I shall be sick else. [STRIKER] Exit[s].

138Friswood   [Aside]   ’Twas well I overheard’em; my young lovers had been spoiled else. Had not I crossed the old angry man’s purpose before he had met with the young timorous virgin, she had confessed all; and all had been dashed now.
ANNABEL [enters.]

139AnnabelHow now, Fris, is my grandfather gone out of door?

140FriswoodIf he were as safe out o’the world, it were well for you.

141AnnabelNay, say not so, good Fris.

142FriswoodYour unlucky father has destroyed all your hopes in Master Sam Touchwood; in discovering your loves (what devil soever gave him the intelligence) and you must resolve never to see your sweet Sam again.

143AnnabelI must resolve to die first: oh!Sinks.

144Friswood’Ods pity! How now! Why mistress, why Annabel, why mistress Annabel; look up, look up, I say, and you shall have him ’spite of your grandfather and all his works. What, do you think I am an infidelgg4827 to take Master Samuel’s forty pieces and a runletgg3728 of old muscadinegg2803 for nothing? Come, be well, and indeed you shall have him.

145AnnabelOh, Sam, sweet Sam ――

146Friswood   [Aside]   These lovesick maids seldom call upon other saints than their sweethearts.   [To ANNABEL]   Look up I say, your sweet Sam is coming.

147AnnabelHa, where? where is he? Why do you abuse me?

148FriswoodI say he will come presently. Look up, I say. Forgive me, he comes indeed:
SAMUEL entersn5722


   [Aside]   my master thought I was a witch, and I now suspect myself for one.   [To SAMUEL]   Oh master Samuel, how came you hither?   [To ANNABEL]   Here he is, mistress.   [To SAMUEL]   What mean you to come now to undo her and yourself too? Yet she had died and you had not come as you did.   [To ANNABEL]   Why do you not look upon him and be well?   [To SAMUEL]   Get you gone, we are all undone if my master come back and find you. Speak to her quickly, then kiss her and part; you will be parted for ever else.

149SamuelHow fares my love?

150AnnabelBetter than when I was an earthly being,
        This bosom is a heaven to me; through death
        I am arrived at bliss, most happily,
        To be so well revived thou mad’st me die.

151FriswoodI made you not die as you will die if you stand prattlinggg4828 till my master return and take you. For, Master Samuel, I must tell you, Master Samuel, he knows all, Master Samuel.

152SamuelMy father knows as much, and that’s the cause
        Of my adventuring hither to instruct you
        In a strange practice; here it is in writing[Reveals] A paper.
        ’Tis such a secret that I durst not trust
        My tongue with the conveyance of’t; nor have I
        The confidence to hear it read: take it,
        And in my absence join your best advises
        To give it life and action; ’tis rule
        Which (though both hard and grievous to pursue)
        Is all that can our hopes in love renew.

153FriswoodWhat horrible thing must we do trow? Pray, let me see the paper. I hope there is no pistollinggg3795 nor poisoning in it. Though my old Striker come short of the man he was to ben5723 with me, I would be loath to shorten his days with the danger of my neckn5650 or making a bonfire in Smithfieldn5651. Pray, let me see the paper.

154SamuelNot until my departure, gentle Friswood.

155FriswoodIs there such horror in it that you dare not stand the opening of the paper?

156SamuelConsider, sweet, our love is fever sick,
        Even desperately to death;
        And nothing but a desperate remedy
        Is left us. For our bodily health, what sour,
        Unsavoury, loathsome medicines we will taken7169
        But to remove an aguegg3796?
        What sharp incisions, searings, and cruel corsivesgg3797
        Are daily suffered, and what limbs disseveredgg4829
        To keepe a gangrenegg4830 from the vital parts,
        That a dismembered body yet may live?
        We in like case must to preserve our love,
        (If we dare say we love) adventure life,
        Fame, honour, which are all but love’s attendants
        To maintain it.

157AnnabelI understand you, sweet,
        And do, before I read your strong injunction,
        Resolve to give it faithful execution
        What e’er it be. I ha’ got courage now,
        And, with a constant boldness, let me tell you
        You dare not lay that on me I’ll not beargg4831:
        And love, predominant o’er all other passions,
        Shall bear me outn7170 in’t.

158SamuelOh, you have made me happy.

159FriswoodAs I live my master ――n5652
           [To SAMUEL]   Kiss and away; whipgg4832 quickly through the garden –
           [To ANNABEL]   Run you up to your chamber.   [To SAMUEL]   I’ll see you out myself.

160Samuel   [To ANNABEL]   Thus let us breathe that till we’meet again ――

161FriswoodWhoopgg2018, what do ye mean?

162SamuelWe leave for truce at raising of the siegen5724,
        Our interchanged hearts each other’s pledge.

163FriswoodGo, souls; this sets you both but more on edge.

164AnnabelFarewell.[ANNABEL exits by one door]

165SamuelFarewell.[SAMUEL and FRISWOOD] Ex[it by another].

Edited by Julie Sanders



n7153   Goldwire Gilbert's surname associates him with the high fashion of young city gallants, where gold wire's visible presence in textiles and on clothing was a mark of status and wealth. [go to text]

n7154   Chamlet Walter's surname is intriguing - an obvious play, especially in its pronunciation, on Shakespeare's eponymous protagonist in Hamlet. There are other allusions to that play in the course of The Sparagus Garden, most noticeably in Sam Touchwood's Act One claims to feel suicidal. This tallies with other published and manuscript drama of the 1630s, where Hamlet appears in several knowing allusions and intertextual gestures. One intriguing example is a manuscript play held in the Osborne collection at the University of Calgary, sometimes known by the title of its Arbury Hall ms counterpart, The Humorous Magistrate, which dates from the 1630s and has possible links to Brome. Certainly this play alludes at length to A Jovial Crew as well. All of this is a key to the resonance of Shakespeare's play in 1630s theatrical culture but it may go deeper in revealing to us the reading practices of particular groups and networks in which Brome played a significant role. My thanks to the research team at the University of Calgary working on the Osborne ms, in particular Mary Polito and Susan Bennett for the opportunity of a Visiting Fellowship in 2008 to work on this manuscript along with the Canadian Research Council funded team. [go to text]

n5624   TOUCHWOOD Touchwood is the type of wood that easily catches light and is therefore traditionally used as kindling to start fires. In the case of the character Brome is appositely suggesting his volatile temper and nature and there are many punning references to the connection throughout the play. [go to text]

gg1020   shifts clever ploys or expedients, impromptu experiments or displays (in acting) [go to text]

gg3964   HOYDEN a rude, ignorant or awkward fellow; a clown, boor (OED, n; obsolete) [go to text]

gg3964   Hoyden a rude, ignorant or awkward fellow; a clown, boor (OED, n; obsolete) [go to text]

gg4083   stale old, past a marriageable age; no longer fresh [go to text]

n7155   A GARDENER. The gardener is never given a name in the play, whereas his wife Martha is. It is possible that Brome did this to indicate a power dynamic in the relationship that accords all the agency to Martha - certainly it is she who drives the scenes in the Asparagus Garden in Act 3 in terms of transactions and negotiations with the paying guests. [go to text]

n7156   Ambodexter With a pun on the idea of being ambidextrous - in several references, Ambodexter as a lawyer is described as taking money from all sides in an argument. [go to text]

n7157   Pancridge The curate's name seems to refer the area on the edges of London that fell within the parish of St Pancras (or Pancridge). In the 1620s and 1630s it had something of a reputation for marital elopments and for religious leaders who were willing to turn a blind eye to the legality of matches they were being asked to bless. Ben Jonson plays on these associations in his 1633 play A Tale of a Tub which is partly set in this area. [go to text]

gg2663   wonted accustomed [go to text]

n7158   I’th midst o’the journey i.e. in the central act [go to text]

n7159   ACT ONE Scene One: The play opens with Gilbert Goldwire and Walter Chamlet discussing an as yet unnamed character who clearly they have a job to persuade of something. The subject of their discussion turns out to be Samson Touchwood, a choleric, angry old man and Justice of the Peace, who soon enters onstage (the 'least spark kindles him' says Gilbert, referring to Touchwood's suggestive surname). The two young men have come to Touchwood's residence and while a series of formal welcomes and greetings ensue it becomes clear that their topic will inflame Touchwood's volatile temper all too soon. They seek to persuade him that he should allow his son Samuel to marry Annabel Moneylacks-Striker (she is Moneylacks's actual daughter but has been notionally adopted by her grandfather). Striker, however, is Touchwood's old adversary - the two men have been embroiled in a feud that has lasted for some thirty years. Gilbert and Walter's own parents were also similarly at war but were reconciled by Gilbert's marriage to Walter's sister and the two men hope that Samuel and Annabel's relationship might effect a similar entente cordiale between Striker and Touchwood. Furious at their suggestions, Touchwood dismisses them summarily from his house, but as they leave they run into Samuel himself. He is in a deep melancholy at his seemingly impossible romance. Troubled by the need to go against parental law Samuel seems almost suicidal (his lines at this point subtly echoing those of Shakespeare's Hamlet to reinforce this reading). Gilbert and Walter try to calm him down and devise a plot to save the day that will become the basis of the play as it progresses.

Scene Two: We now meet Touchwood's adversary, Striker, another elderly Justice of the Peace. He is in his home conducting a less-than-friendly conversation with Sir Hugh Moneylacks, a destitute knight who we learn is Striker's son-in-law. Striker's daughter is dead, her fortune, it seems having been frittered away by Moneylacks and therefore Striker has taken the daughter of that marriage, Annabel, his grandaughter into his home and is treating her as if she were his daughter (this makes for some confused kinship references in the play). Proving his complete lack of filial care, Sir Hugh is planning to reveal Annabel's secret love affair with Samuel Touchwood in the hope of financial reward. Striker's housekeeper Friswood saves the day, however, in that, having overheard Moneylacks's indiscretions, she claims the whole thing is a plot of her making. In the process of the exchange between Striker and Friswood (another of Brome's striking older female parts, directly comparable to Trainwell in The Northern Lass) the fact that they have a long term sexual relationship is revealed. That Striker addresses Friswood in the aggressive misogynist terms he does seems all the more appalling as a result. The scene ends on a high-pitched emotional note with an onstage encounter between the two young lovers, Samuel and Annabel.
[go to text]

n5622   WALTER and GILBERT [enter]. Massed entry in Q: 'Walter, Gilbert, Touchwood.' In practice, Touchwood enters partway through the scene so I have altered and added stage directions accordingly. [go to text]

gg3788   ward watch or guard [go to text]

n7160   he is a most subtle and dangerous fencer to deal withal. Gilbert's lines here, a metaphorical description of Touchwood, nevertheless prefigure later scenes in the play when verbal fencing takes place when Sir Hugh Moneylacks 'trains' Tim Hoyden to be a gentleman by learning to participate in the thrust and parry of verbal banter and insult that was part of everyday practice at the court. [go to text]

n5624   He has not his name for nothing, old Touchwood! Touchwood is the type of wood that easily catches light and is therefore traditionally used as kindling to start fires. In the case of the character Brome is appositely suggesting his volatile temper and nature and there are many punning references to the connection throughout the play. [go to text]

n7161   a few neighbourly and friendly words The context of the neighbourhood as a concept and social force in this play is discussed at further length in the introductory essay. [go to text]

n9776   Gilbert and Walter [together] Ambo (Q). I have indicated that Gilbert and Walter speak this line together since there is precedent for Brome's use of the latin Ambo in this way elsewhere (for example, in A Mad Couple Well Matched). He also uses the term again in Act 3 to indicate a joint exit by characters. The suggestion that Ambo could have referred to the character Ambodexter Trampler in the play was rejected; there is no evidence for his entry into the play this early and although speech prefixes in the quarto edition are erratic, in his case he is consistently identified by the speech prefix Tram. [go to text]

n7163   good neighbours Again the concept of neighbourliness and the social construct of the neighbourhood is brought into the frame of the audience's consideration. [go to text]

n5625   that may be read upon the hospital walls and gates In the early modern period donators and benefactors to good works such as hospitals had their names recorded on the signs or in the name of the building much as in the present day. Both Goldwire and Chamlet's fathers were clearly social philanthropists. [go to text]

n7162   Samson Touchwood's first name may be a way of indicating the parental relationship to Samuel in the play, or a comic allusion to his ageing masculinity. [go to text]

gg1007   wranglers quarrelsome arguers (in the context: highly litigious individuals) [go to text]

n5626   they were at law loggerheads This back-story of the Chamlet-Goldwire legal tussles that lasted nine years and served only to lose the defendants money is a forerunner of Dickens's notorious Jarndyce vs Jarndyce dispute in Bleak House. [go to text]

gg3850   loggerheads to be contending about differences of opinion (OED 8) [go to text]

gg3851   coursed chased (as a hare would be by a greyhound) [go to text]

n5708   held one another play i.e. made one another stay in the legal game or process [go to text]

n5709   Are you there with me? = Is that what you have come to discuss? [go to text]

gg4099   wagers bet [go to text]

gg1494   atonement forgiveness; restoration of friendly relations between persons who have been at variance; reconciliation (OED 2a) [go to text]

n5628   [SAMUEL enters, deep in contemplation.] In all the references to Samuel's contemplative mood here and in the passionate encounter between him and Annabel in the following scene of the first act, there appear to be a series of self-conscious intertheatrical allusions to the archetypal early modern lovers Romeo and Juliet and to the parental strife they suffered at the hands of. [go to text]

gg3852   crabbed of a disagreeably forward or fractious nature [go to text]

n5627   green wood fresh untreated wood, often left to season before use. Interestingly the early modern theatres were themselves constructed from green oak timbers seasoned in forests. [go to text]

gg3365   sere dried up and withered [go to text]

n5629   To disobey a father is a crime Samuel's register is in verse which differentiates him from the prose of his friends. There is another deliberate recalling of Romeo's first entrance in Shakespeare's tragedy Romeo and Juliet when he converses in Petrarchan poetics distinct from the idiomatic prose of his friends. [go to text]

n5630   Love himself i.e. Cupid [go to text]

gg4202   forgo give up, relinquish, deny oneself [go to text]

gg1526   conceit conception, fancy, whim, clever trick [go to text]

gg58   casting devising, contriving (OED cast, 43b); rolling of dice [go to text]

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

gg300   desperate driven to despair or reckless action [go to text]

gg4823   loud manifest, palpable [go to text]

gg3285   lets obstacles, hindrances [go to text]

n5631   The ballet taught you that. This is one of several references in the play to the newly fashionable art-form of ballet which was enjoying particular prominence at the Caroline court due to the French Queen consort Henrietta Maria's patronage. The French court's predeliction for extravagant spectacular ballets, often with romantic or moral themes, also influenced the English court masque at this time (see Britland, 2006). [go to text]

gg3164   shift an expedient, an ingenious device for effecting some purpose (OED n. III 3a) [go to text]

n5711   SAMUEL and WALTER shake hands This entire scene has been an exploration of the various forms and codes of etiquette that governed male society at this time. [go to text]

gg4824   lay allay, put down [go to text]

gg2965   spent exhausted, worn out [go to text]

n7410   1.2 Scene Two: We are now in Striker's household. Striker is Touchwood's phlegmatic rival (each man to a certain extent embodies a 'humour' or an extreme emotion in a reference back to the humours comedy of Brome's great dramatic mentor, Ben Jonson). Striker's phlegm will quite literally surface on the stage when he is provoked by Touchwood's insults into violent bouts of coughing. In this scene, however, Striker's duologue is with Sir Hugh Moneylacks, his erstwhile son-in-law. Through their somewhat tetchy exchanges the audience receives a considerable amount of information and back-story (a form of embedded exposition that allows for increased dramatic flow compared to some expository beginnings to early modern plays). Sir Hugh's wife, Striker's daughter, died young, but not before Sir Hugh had frittered away her personal fortune of £5,000 a year. Striker has disowned his son-in-law who has apparently become known as the 'mourning knight' because he still wears his mourning black clothes (presumably because he cannot afford to replace them). Striker has also assumed parental guardianship of his granddaughter Annabel (the object of Samuel Touchwood's affection). We also learn in passing of several of Sir Hugh's moneymaking schemes or 'projects' - a very loaded term in the context of Caroline society - sedan chairs among them. These are not only referred to on several occasions in the play but in the fifth act will becomes an important stage property. Sir Hugh is also employed part-time by the tenant managers of the Asparagus Garden after which the play is named. He acts as a 'gather-guest' for the gardener and his wife, Martha, bringing guests and therefore profit to the gardens and taking a cut of proceeds accordingly. Moneylacks has come to Striker's residence to warn him of Samuel and Annabel's liaison in hope of a reward (he demonstrates a calculating lack of loyalty to his daughter in this way). This firmly establishes him as a reprobate with audiences and presumably delimits any sympathy for his position now and later in the play's proceedings. This is very much a play where we as an audience are 'in the know' and invited to make judgements. Friswood, the housekeeper, has been listening in to this whole conversation between Striker and Moneylacks just offstage and by the time she appears onstage is already improvising a plot to protect her young mistress's love interests (she too is not averse to finanacial gain, since we learn Samuel has partly bribed her with gifts of wine). Friswood and Striker, we learn here, have their own backstory. There has been an ongoing sexual relationship between master and mistress for many years. As Friswood herself puts it, 'Sir, I have been your creature this thirty years, down lying and uprising . . .'. This makes their relationship of the same duration as Striker's feud with Touchwood. That 30-year time period will become key to the recollections of this play, to the memories of past actions that are eventually revealed and articulated on the stage and their visible consequences. We then see Annabel and Friswood alone together discussing Samuel and too Annabel's deep love for him. The couple are archetypal thwarted young lovers, even deliberately clichéd in the play's self-conscious allusions to Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet in their brief scenes together. Their verbal exchanges which take place here when Samuel enters onstage also enable the physical exchange of a key stage property and plot catalyst - a letter, which reveals to Annabel the plot devised by Sam's friends and which will now unfold over the following four acts. [go to text]

n5712   in mine own house A typical line to help the audience locate the new location of the scene in Striker's house. [go to text]

n5632   glossed Q (glosled) [go to text]

n5714   Stand and deliver The traditional catchphrase of highwaymen when intending to rob a coach or travellers on horseback. Striker is comparing Moneylacks to a common criminal in this regard. [go to text]

n5713   I think I was wi’ye = I think I understood (or deceiphered) you correctly. This is Striker's tag line throughout this scene. Brome was fond of giving characters linguistic markers in this way; compare Sir Paul Squelch's fondness for the term 'directly' in The Northern Lass. [go to text]

gg3855   ladified i.e. made into a lady (usually by marriage) [go to text]

n7164   fetch her again i.e. bring her back to life [go to text]

n5633   Nor mourned more justly: it is your only wearing The implication is that Sir Hugh appears onstage in mourning attire. This would be highly unusual seven years after his the death of his wife. Mourning clothing was usually worn for a year. Striker suggests that this is less out of intense grief for his late wife than for the fact that Moneylacks cannot afford to replace his wardrobe due to his state of indebtedness. [go to text]

n5634   my house shall be no enchanted castle to detain your knight-errantship from your adventures Striker plays with images and ideas from medieval romance here in order to indicate how far from the ideal of chivalry a knight such as Sir Hugh has fallen. [go to text]

n5636   I have made her mine. I will adopt her into mine own name Striker announces his decision here to adopt Annabel as his formal daughter which explains the confusion of terms in the play. Annabel is both his grand-daughter and his daughter in this respect. Brome seems to make comic capital of the confusion this creates. [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]

n5637   You have a wit, Sir Hugh, and a projective one Striker refers to the financial projects many courtiers became involved in during the early Stuart period, some of them more realistic and successful than others, such as fen-drainage. [go to text]

n5638   some new project afoot now to outgo that of the handbarrows – what call you ’em, the sedans Sedan chairs had recently become a very fashionable mode of transport in the streets with London. Henry Peacham refers to the phenomenon in his pamphlet Coach and Sedan (London, 1637). See also Act 4 of The Antipodes. [go to text]

gg3544   project plan or design a scheme for (OED v1. 1a) (often used by Brome to suggest a scam or cheat of some kind) [go to text]

n7165   handbarrows one of several phrases for sedan chairs in the play; they are also referred to as 'hand-litters' at one point and the men who carry them are described as 'littermen' in the persons of the play. Sedan chairs were a new phenomenon in London in the 1630s and the subject of many references in plays and pamhplets. including Henry Peacham's 1635 pamphlet playlet, Coach and Sedan. [go to text]

n5635   Asparagus Garden This is the first mention of the central setting of the play. We will not actually enter the Asparagus Garden until the third act. The Prologue to the play as published makes a knowing reference to this withholding of the title location until the middle of the play. [go to text]

gg4825   pension regular payment, fee [go to text]

n7166   gather-guest i.e. Sir Hugh brings new custom (he quite literally gathers guests for the gardener and his wife who are its tenant managers) to the Asparagus Garden and presumably gets commission or a share of the profits as a result. [go to text]

n5639   play the Fly of The New Inn Fly is a character in Ben Jonson's 1629 play The New Inn who is at the centre of operations in the inn that forms the setting for the action. He is variously described as having been signed over to the Host in the inventory of the building and as a gypsy but the comparison would ensure that audiences saw Moneylacks as a kind of servant to the owners of The Asparagus Garden. [go to text]

gg3856   advertise warn [go to text]

gg2873   piece coin, usually gold, and at this date the equal of twenty-two shillings (the spending worth in today's currency would be £94.38p.) [go to text]

n7167   match-broker i.e. an arranger of marriages [go to text]

n5640   [Aside] It is interesting that Friswood's first line in the play is an aside (possibly delivered to the audience) indicating that she has overheard the previous scene and will think on her feet to protect Sam and Annabel from the consequences. This immediately positions her somewhat within our sympathies and Brome's decision to give asides and soliloquies to female characters in this way is present in other plays such as The Northern Lass, where it is the female characters alone who speak (albeit brief) soliloquies. Friswood has a direct counterpart in that play in the role of Trainwell, Sir Paul Squelch's housekeeper who has also been in his employ since the days of his late wife. [go to text]

n5641   the devil’s dam herself, your old mistress This is Striker's less than flattering reference to his late wife. [go to text]

n5642   Flibber de Jibb A play on the term flibbertigibit, meaning a gossip or a frivolous woman. [go to text]

gs710   fly-flap headwear or hood [go to text]

n5643   your old white-leather hide Striker's implication is that Friswood has very leathery old skin. This leads into a whole series of ageist references. [go to text]

gg733   lewd vile, evil; worthless; lascivious [go to text]

n7168   in love-league together i.e. conducting an illicit romance [go to text]

gg2480   gullery trickery [go to text]

n5716   ha, ha, ha This phrase or the act of laughing effectively punctuates Friswood's speech enabling her to improvise and think on her feet. It's a form of buying of mental time to process what needs to be done in the situation. [go to text]

n5644   I have been your creature this thirty years, down lying and uprising Friswood implies that there has been a sexual relationship between herself and her employer. [go to text]

gg40   creature one ready to do another's bidding, puppet (through patronage or devotion) (OED 5) [go to text]

n5645   to be sung in a ballet This is one of several references in the play to the newly fashionable art-form of ballet which was enjoying particular prominence at the Caroline court due to the French Queen consort Henrietta Maria's patronage. The French court's predeliction for extravagant spectacular ballets, often with romantic or moral themes, also influenced the English court masque at this time. (See Britland, 2006.) [go to text]

n5646   to have crept into Eve’s bed, as I did into my mistress’s As at other points in the play Friswood implies that she has had a sexual relationship with her employer. [go to text]

gg3794   shift movement (sometimes with a sexual meaning) [go to text]

n5717   as your abilities will serve you There are numerous implications of Striker's impotency or fading sexual prowess in the course of this exchange with Friswood, with whom he appears to have sexual relations of a sort. [go to text]

n5718   I mean your daughter that was mother to this daughter which now you have made your daughter This is an example of a moment where Brome draws comic attention to his own convoluted plotline. [go to text]

n5719   the sheath to your steel A proverbial expression for loyalty although in context there are clearly also bawdy sexual undertones to the phrase. [go to text]

n5648   Fid Possibly Striker's familiar shortening of Friswood's surname (Annabel, however, calls her Fris); possibly an indicator of her first name, perhaps Fidelity, which would certainly describe her loyal thirty years service to her employer. [go to text]

n5648   Fid Possibly Striker's familiar shortening of Friswood's surname (Annabel, however, calls her Fris); possibly an indicator of her first name, perhaps Fidelity, which would certainly describe her loyal thirty years service to her employer. [go to text]

gg2873   piece coin, usually gold, and at this date the equal of twenty-two shillings (the spending worth in today's currency would be £94.38p.) [go to text]

gg4826   miscreant reprobate [go to text]

n5720   for all the good neighbourhood in the parish The importance of parish politics and the ideas of a neighbourhood are palpable in this play. [go to text]

gg4827   infidel an unbeliever (usually in the context of a dominant religion) [go to text]

gg3728   runlet cask or vessel of varying capacity; or the quantity of liquor contained therein [go to text]

gg2803   muscadine a sweet wine made from the muscat grape [go to text]

n5722   SAMUEL enters Placed before Friswood's speech in Q, but in view of her startled response to Samuel's appearance I have relocated the SD as better positioned at this point. [go to text]

gg4828   prattling talking foolishly (OED v.) [go to text]

gg3795   pistolling action of shooting with a pistol [go to text]

n5723   come short of the man he was to be further connotations of Striker's fading sexual prowess in his old age [go to text]

n5650   the danger of my neck i.e. the risk of hanging for the attempted murder of Striker. [go to text]

n5651   making a bonfire in Smithfield i.e. being burned as a witch in the market square (Friswood is being partly hyperbolic here in that witch-burnings had not taken place in London in recent times). [go to text]

n7169   Unsavoury, loathsome medicines we will take There are numerous ways in which this play appears to engage with current medical debates around herbalism, the College of Physicians and the role of the barber-surgeons in London. This is discussed in more detail in the introductory essay to this play. [go to text]

gg3796   ague acute fever [go to text]

gg3797   corsives = corrosive (obsolete seventeenth-century usage) [go to text]

gg4829   dissevered i.e. severed [go to text]

gg4830   gangrene necrosis or mortification (or dying off) of a part of the body [go to text]

gg4831   bear i.e. as in 'bear a burden' [go to text]

n7170   bear me out i.e. prove me right (Sam is punning on his previous use of the term 'bear' in the same speech to mean a 'burden'). [go to text]

n5652   As I live my master ―― Friswood seems to hear noises offstage that would imply Striker is returning to the room. [go to text]

gg4832   whip move briskly [go to text]

gg2018   Whoop an exclamation indicating surprise [go to text]

n5724   We leave for truce at raising of the siege This is yet further example of Samuel's hyperbolic discourse and his sub-Petrarchan idiom throughout the first act. The phrase in full refers to the exchange of pledges to promise loyalty to terms between combatants involved in a siege situation as part of the complex negotations carried out in a truce. In truth they are tokens of love not war that Samuel and Annabel are exchanging and the reference serves to remind the audience once again about the all-important letter that has been handed over during the course of the scene. [go to text]

n6719   Epilogue Indication is not given as to who speaks this Epilogue, which directly addresses the audience. [go to text]

gg409   gamesters one who gambles (OED 3); lewd person of either sex (OED 5) [go to text]

n6717   ’Tis only in your hands to crown a play i.e. by applause. [go to text]