ACT TWO
2.1*n5551
This scene offers a new level of debate on the Nature/Nurture question. Oldrents' daughters discuss the value of freedom of movement and choice (exploring natural inclination) against the conservative values of restraint and decorum (learned social behaviour). Rachel and Meriel want the personal liberty to do whatever they wish, whereas their father tries to restrict them to a regime of duties and staid housebound service to others. The girls' particular demand is not simply freedom from constraint, but more importantly escape from their father's depression. Like Springlove, they want to spread their wings and enjoy their youth, unfettered even by their boyfriends. They are lively and bawdy young women who love to play pranks and tease, and prize their independence far more than the prospect of marriage even to young men they love -- although it is not clear which sister loves which young man.
Neither are the men themselves any clearer on which sister each loves. Vincent and Hilliard seem to be more followers than leaders, and not as restless or spontaneous as the Oldrents sisters. Vincent is willing to travel, but he wants to design a trip for the women, not allow them the freedom of travelling without maps. Both men favour urban centres -- London, or at least Bath -- or the organized games in the Cotswolds, or a visit to a shrine in Wales. Their ideas, in other words, are tame compared to the sisters' outrageous notion -- developed aside in whispers and bursts of laughter, a sequence that shows the sisters at their most charming -- of travelling with beggars. But both young men ultimately approve this plan (more out of fear of losing the sisters' love, than of any desire to beg), and Springlove agrees to act as their guide.
Through his surprising decision to take the foursome with him, Springlove intends to disprove the prophecy that caused Oldrents' depression: he sees the plan as a redemptive journey that will relieve Oldrents of his fear that his daughters will be beggars for life, because the begging will merely be a holiday excursion. The girls and their suitors might learn something too about value systems, and come to no harm in the process.
VINCENT, HILLIARD, MERIEL, [and] RACHEL [enter].
119VincentI am overcome with admiration at the
felicity†gs656
delight or pleasure
they take!
120HilliardBeggars! They are the only people can boast
the benefit of a free state in the full enjoyment of
liberty, mirth, and ease, having all things in common
and nothing wanting of nature’s whole provision
within the reach of their desires. Who would have
lost this sight of their
revels†gs646
merry-making or festivity, usually with lively entertainment
?
121VincentHow think you, ladies? Are they not the only
happy in a nation?
122MerielHappier than we, I’m sure,n10493
When we first started working on the extracts from this scene in the workshop, Helen Ostovich, the editor who had prepared the written text, wanted to explore the nature of the young women’s anger and laughter and to consider the transition between the two. She was interested in what kind of laughter it might be. As we worked on the extracts, however, what became increasingly intriguing was the issue of performance within the fictional world of the play, and how the laughter related to this; how the act of laughing became a kind of performance. This then begged the questions: who is performing for whom and why, and what are the possible functions of these ‘performances’ within the broader context of the play?
This line of experimentation began with discussions of Rachel’s line, “Does he think us whores, trow, because sometimes we talk so lightly as great ladies?” [JC 2.1.speech128]. After the actors had undertaken an initial read-through and discussed various textual issues, Brian Woolland, the director, encouraged Olivia Darnley (Rachel) to use the line playfully, as a trigger for the women to self-consciously perform the next few lines as they might imagine ‘great ladies’ to talk. This had the unforeseen effect of drawing attention to the silence of the men. Whilst the women do not verbally acknowledge the presence of the men in this section of the scene [JC 2.1.speeches125-131], it is important that the men remain theatrically active. As Michael Leslie (the editor who took on the role of Vincent in this enactment) commented, if the young women are impatient with their father’s constraint, what do they feel about Vincent and Hilliard (played by Alan Morrissey)? And what do the men feel about the women? The following extract shows this sense of lively game-playing between the women. In this version, the women draw apart from the men, moving downstage on Meriel’s line – “What’s that to absolute freedom…” (Speech 125). A few moments later Hannah Watkins delivers Meriel’s line, “What tales have been told him of us, or what he suspects, I know not… ” in hushed confidentiality. This creates a strong sense of the sisters egging each other on, performing for each other, excluding the men from the secrecy of their private world and separating themselves from others of their own social class. Brian Woolland thought that this stage positioning created poor sight lines for the audience, many of whom could not see the men’s reactions to the women, and (more importantly in the workshop context) limited the possibilities for unspoken interaction between the women and the men. He asked Hannah and Olivia to think about Meriel’s and Rachel’s intentions and the target for their play acting, so that they might not only perform to amuse each other but also as a more deliberate provocation to the men. The following video extract (which includes intervention from Brian) demonstrates how a slightly different organisation of the stage space enabled a richer, more nuanced and more precisely targeted performance, and created greater opportunities for the actors to experiment with language. In this enactment, for example, Rachel’s “Does he think us whores…?” is both a provocation to Hilliard and an invitation to Meriel to join with her in the game play.
All the actors found this staging more productive and during subsequent discussions, Olivia made an insightful observation, ‘a plot’s hatching which involves them (the men) and not just us’. A plot hatching is an interesting phrase in this context. The work we had done on performance and secrecy in this early extract from the scene served us well in preparation for the second.
that are
pent-up†gg3535
enclosed within narrow limits; closely confined; held in check or held back under pressure (OED 2)
and
tied by the nose*n5377
Metaphorically, this means confined like an animal in a stable; but in this particular case, not simply to a manger, but painfully to the constant filial duty of receiving and entertaining their father's guests.
to the continual
steam of hot
hospitality*n5378
This image suggests the painful burning discomfort of the two daughters, who feel contrained to obey their father in what seems to them to be meaningless activity of entertaining guests they would rather not know. Conversation with such guests is merely hot air, uncomfortable and unengaging to their youthful spirits.
here in our father’s house, when they
have the air at pleasure in all variety.
123RachelAnd though I know we have merrier spirits
than they, yet to live thus confined
stifles†gg3536
suffocates
us.
124HilliardWhy, ladies, you have liberty enough, or
may take what you please.
125MerielYes, in our father’s rule and government,
or by his
allowance†gs647
permission
. What’s that to absolute freedom
such as the very beggars have, to feast and
revel here today and yonder tomorrow, next day
where they please, and so on still, the whole country
or klngdom over? There’s liberty! The birds of
the air can take no more.
126RachelAnd then at home here, or wheresoever he
comes, our father is so
pensive†gg3537
gloomy, sad, melancholy
― What muddy spirit
soe’er possesses him, would I could conjure’t out! ―
that he makes us even sick of his sadness,
that were
wont to see*n5379
That is: who formerly would see.
my gossips cock*n5381
This is the first of a series of games or dances that the girls used to perform for their father to make him laugh, in the days before he became melancholy. The literal reference here seems to be a display of locals (possibly godparents, but more likely familiar acquaintances, as in OED 2a) playing the ‘cock’, or behaving boastfully or defiantly; swaggering, strutting; bragging, tattling, or crowing over each other; or might refer to how local owners train or fight cocks (OED v1, 2, 7). In either definition, the girls imitate the behaviour as a game. The old-spelling text shows no apostrophe, but modern editors have indicated 'my gossip's cock', as though it were a reference to a neighbour's rooster. Such a reference seems out of line with the games and dances that follow in this list. It seems to be stretching the context on a point of grammar that simply is not clear.
today;
mould cockle-bread*n11646
John Aubrey, Remains (1688): 'Young wenches have a wanton sport which they call moulding of Cocklebread: viz. they get upon a table-board, and then gather up their knees and their Coates with their hands as high as they can, and then they wabble to and fro with their Buttocks as if they were kneading of Dowgh with their Arses, and say these words, viz. - "My Dame is sick and gone to bed And I'le go mould my Cockle-bread."' Brome, Jovial Crew, 2.1 has Rachel say she and her sister used to make their father laugh by dancing and performing bawdy jokes. An earlier reference to this lewd game appears in George Peele's The Old Wives Tale, when Zantippa goes to the well to draw a husband, and hears the head rising from the well recite: 'Fair maiden, white and red,/ Stroke me smooth, and comb my head, / And thou shalt have some cockell-bread' (666-68). Insulted, she breaks her pitcher over the head instead, but nevertheless gains a suitable husband. The idea of kneading dough with the buttocks was deemed a magic practice to secure a husband, and in Venice could bring the kneader before the Inquisition.
;
dance
clutterdepouch†gg3538
an old dance. It was possibly accompanied by continuous or repeated noise or clatter, but no description of the dance remains.
and
hannikin booby*n6589
This was an old country dance. A version called 'Half Hannikin' appears in John Playford, The English Dancing Master (1651), p. 43, and regularly reprinted. For a full description of this dance and the tunes associated with it, see The Dancing Master, 1651-1728: An Illustrated Compendium
edited by Robert M. Keller (2000), available online at http://www.izaak.unh.edu/nhltmd/indexes/dancingmaster/ Accessed 23 February 2009.
A ‘longways’ dance like 'Half Hannikin' consists of a line of couples with the men on the left and the women on the right, initially facing forward. To ‘lead up all a D. forwards and back’, as in the Playford description, would mean that each couple, holding hands, dances a double forwards and a double backwards in a processional format. The double forwards would start on the left foot (L, R, L, together), and the double backwards would start on the right foot (R, L, R, together). Then that section is repeated, presumably to the same music. This action is a kind of refrain performed between the variations described next.
‘Sides all’, or ‘siding’, indicates that the couples turn towards each other and perform a double forward starting on the left towards one's partner in such a way that on the 'together' they are side by side, and then a double backwards starting on the right. There would be sides left
first (with right shoulders closest to each other), then sides right (with left shoulders closest), in all amounting to four doubles.
‘Turn your own, or turn your we.’ means take both hands of your partner
and make a 360 degree turn, usually clockwise. The next movement requires the man from the front couple and the woman from the back couple to step out of the dance briefly. The next man in the line, the second man, takes the first woman as his partner, and so on down the line. (This is a common way to enable people to dance with different partners.) The partners keep switching, and the man and woman who have been 'out' move back into the dance to allow others to stand out and change partners.
I am grateful to Emily Winerock, dance historian, for explaining the Playford steps to me.
; bind barrels;
or do anything
before†gs648
in front of
him, and he would laugh at us.
127MerielNow he never looks upon us but with a sigh,
or tears in his eyes, though we
simper†gg3541
smile self-consciously or self-righteously
never so
sanctifiedly†gg3540
patiently, like saints
.
What tales have been told him of us, or what
he suspects I know not ― God forgive him! I do ― but
I am weary of his house.
128RachelDoes he think us whores, trow, because sometimes we talk
as lightly as great ladies?*n6575
Rachel's question simply shows the fashion for vulgar language among the upper classes, whereas many of the middle and lower classes were applying a Puritan ethic to refined speech as a sign of godliness.
I can swear
safely for the virginity of one of us, so far as word and
deed goes. Marry,
thought’s free*n5383
This is proverbial.
.
129MerielWhich is that one of us, I pray? Yourself
or me?
130RachelGood sister Meriel,
charity begins at home*n5384
The phrase is proverbial. Rachel teases that she herself is a virgin, but she isn't so sure about Meriel. She will, however, accept it on faith 'charitably' that Meriel is still intact.
.
But I’ll swear I think as charitably of thee. And not
only because thou art a year younger neither.
131MerielI am beholden to you. But for my father, I
would I knew his grief and how to cure him, or that
we were where we could not see it. It spoils our
mirth†gs649
Gaiety or lightness of mood or mind, especially as manifested in laughter; merriment, hilarity. In early use also: a jest (obsolete). In some early uses, mirth has a connotation of ridicule or mockery (OED 4a), as in the saucy singing and dancing games of Rachel and Meriel [JC 2.1.speech126], deliberately performed for the pleasure of hearing their father laugh. A good personification of such mirth,including song, is Merrythought, in Beaumont's The Knight of the Burning Pestle (1607), a play which had enjoyed a revival in the 1630s by Beeston's Boys, the same company for whom Brome wrote.
, and that has been better than his
meat*n5382
solid food (OED 1a), for the nourishment of the body, as opposed to mirth, for nourishment of the spirit.
to us.
132VincentWill you hear our
motion†gs650
plan of action
, ladies?
133MerielPshaw*n4274
] This edition; Psew Q1. Although OED indicates that Pshaw was not in use until the late eighteenth century, clearly this spelling is a variant and means the same thing.
, you would marry us presently out of
his way, because he has given you a foolish kind of
promise. But we will see him in a better humour first,
and as apt to laugh as we
to lie down*n5385
Does this mean to have sex? The comment seems to be in line with the girls' teasing each other over which of them is still a virgin. But the expression is also paired with 'laugh', suggesting a double reference both to the old card game, 'Laugh and lie down', and to marriage (Tilley, L92, cited in Haaker).
, I warrant him.
134Hilliard’Tis
like†gg2574
(adv) likely
that course*n5386
That is, marriage.
will cure him, would
you embrace it.
135Rachel We will have him cured first, I tell you. And
you shall wait that season and our leisure.
136MerielI will rather
hazard†gs651
gamble, bet; risk
my being
one of the devil’s ape-leaders†gg3542
proverbially, a spinster or old maid (The leading of apes in hell is the opposite of the married woman's leading children in heaven (Tilley M 37). In The Taming of the Shrew, Katherina complains of her father's preference for Bianca: 'She is your treasure, she must have a husband,/ I must dance bare-foot on her wedding-day,/ And for your love to her lead apes in hell' (2.1.32-34).)
than to marry while he is melancholy.
137RachelOr I to stay in his house to give entertainment
to this knight or t’other coxcomb that comes
to cheer him up with eating of his cheer*n5387
This sarcastic repetition of 'cheer' underscores the girls' resentment of unwelcome guests to their father's house; such parasitic guests fail to raise their host's spirits or draw him out of his melancholy, but they do enjoy his food and drink.
; when we
must fetch ’em
sweetmeats†gg475
sweet food such as sugared cakes or pastries, candied fruit or marzipan, or any other confectionary
, and they must tell us,
‘Ladies, your lips are sweeter’, and then fall into
courtship, one in a set speech taken out of
old Breton’s works*n5388
The prose and poetry of Nicholas Breton (1545-1626), whose works include The Arbor of Amorous Devices (1597) and An old man's lesson and a young man's love (1605).
,
another with verses out of
The Academy of Compliments*n5389
First published in 1638, the full title indicates the range of matter for would-be lovers: The Academy of Compliments, being the rarest and most exact way of wooing a maid or widow, ... With passionate love-letters, courtly sentences to express the elegance of love; ... Together with a choice collection of songs.'
, or
some or other of the new poetical pamphleteers, ambitious only to spoil
paper and publish their names in print. And then to
be kissed and sometimes
slavered†gg3543
drooled over, or slobbered
― faugh!
138Meriel’Tis not to be endured. We must out of the
house. We cannot live but by laughing, and that
aloud and nobody sad within hearing.
139VincentWe are for any adventure with you, ladies.
Shall we
project†gg3544
plan or design a scheme for (OED v1, 1a) (often used by Brome to suggest a scam or cheat of some kind)
a journey for you? Your father has
trusted you and will think you safe in our company,
and we would fain be abroad upon some
progress†gs652
an expedition or travel, usually following a specific route and ending in a specific place (OED 6b).
with you. Shall we
make a fling†gg3545
dash off impulsively, rush away impetuously (OED 3)
to London, and
see how the spring appears there in the
Spring Garden*n5390
This was a fashionable resort at the southwest corner of what is now Trafalgar Square, originally designed as a garden house retreat for royalty, and then opened to the public (Haaker). In the pleasure garden was a 'spring' or fountain built in the Elizabethan period as a mechanical curiosity, triggered by pedestrians. Charles I turned the garden into a bowling-green in 1630 with an expensive tavern, which was closed four years later because of unlawfully high prices, 'continual bibbing and drinking wine all day under the trees; [and] two or three quarrels [duels] every week. It was grown scandalous and insufferable' (letter from Mr. Gerrard to Lord Strafford). Aside from bowling and drinking, the garden also kept a small collection of animals: the State Papers contain an 'order dated January 31, 1626, for £75 5s. 10d. a year to be paid for life to Philip, Earl of Montgomery, "for keeping the Spring Gardens, and the beasts and fowls there."' After a rival New Spring Garden opened nearby, the original Spring Garden tavern eventually re-opened and remained open during the interregnum and the reign of Charles II. 'The Mall and Spring Gardens', Old and New London: Volume 4 (1878), pp. 74-85. URL: http://www.british-history.ac.uk/report.aspx?compid=45184 Date accessed: 22 December 2008
,
and in
Hyde Park*n11648
Hyde Park was a new, fashionable leisure resort consisting of pleasure gardens, open in the spring and summer seasons and used for walking, horse-racing, and coach races. See James Shirley's play from 1632, Hyde Park.
to see the races, horse and
foot: to hear the jockeys
crack†gs653
talk big, boast, brag (OED v, 6a)
, and see the
Adamites
run naked*n5391
Adamites were a dissenting sect of nonconformists who flourished briefly under Cromwell. They believed in nudity as a manifestation of Adam and Eve's state of innocence before the fall; they also rejected marriage as hypocritical, and allegedly stripped in order to pray. But verifiable records of this sect are not available, and most information relies on gossip of 1641, when Adamites became a titillating hot topic largely as an allegedly female-dominated group, and evidence of their existence disappears after 1650. They are not the only dissenters to use nudity as a public statement: Ranters and Quakers also did so, and were presumed to follow the Adamite practice. That is, zealous nakedness was stereotyped. See David Cressy, Travesties and Transgressions in Tudor and Stuart England: Tales of Discord and Dissension (New York: Oxford University Press, 2000).
afore the ladies?
140RachelWe have seen all already there, as well as they, last year.
143HilliardWhat think you of a journey to the
Bath*n5392
This city in north-east Somerset got its name from the naturally occurring hot springs revered by the ancient Celts and Romans (who built a temple to Minerva there), and the destination of choice for the sick, since the springs were considered to be curative. The city fell into disrepair frequently during its long history, but revived interest during the Elizabethan and Stuart eras led to its popularity in the eighteenth century.
then?
144RachelWorse than t’other way. I love not to carry
my health where others drop their diseases. There’s
no sport i’that.
145VincentWill you up to the hilltop of sports, then,
and merriments,
Dover’s Olympics or the Cotswold
games*n5393
Annalia Dubrensia. Upon the yeerely celebration of Mr. Robert Dovers Olimpick Games upon Cotswold-Hills (1636), compiled and published by Matthew Walbancke, contains poems by Drayton, Jonson, and Heywood, among many others, all lauding Robert Dover, an attorney from Barton-on-the-heath in Warwickshire, for resurrecting the Cotswold Games of the Elizabethan period. The contests included a variety of athletic exercises (leaping, throwing the bar) and field sports (greyhound coursing). A copy of the text is available on the EEBO database.
?
146MerielNo, that will be too public for our
recreation†gg3546
(place for) pastime or amusement
.
We would have it more
within†gg3547
among (prep.)
ourselves.
147HilliardThink of some course yourselves then.n10494
Helen Ostovich had suggested in advance that her interest in this workshop was primarily in the acting challenge, asking how the women make their plans ‘aside’, with only their laughter audible to the men, who try to figure out what they are laughing at. The scene involves Rachel and Meriel bursting out in laughter as they prepare their plan in whispers; then laughing uncontrollably as they try to explain their plan to the men. In this workshop, the casting remains the same as before: Alan Morrissey as Hilliard, Michael Leslie (an editor) as Vincent, Hannah Watkins as Meriel, Olivia Darnley as Rachel.
The immediate problem to address was the divided focus of the scene (a recurrent feature of Brome’s dramaturgy). In the earlier part of the scene Vincent and Hilliard are silent, although, as we discovered, it is important that the audience are conscious of the extent to which they are being deliberately excluded by the women. In this section, they may be far more active, but the young women’s exuberance is likely to become the focus of an audience’s attention. It is, however, essential that the audience is as aware of the men’s growing discomfort as it is of the women’s effervescent scheming; essential for the dynamic of the comedy and essential for the dialectic of the play. The following video extract is from an early read through. In separating themselves from the men, the women move downstage left, which takes them closer to the video camera. This gives a slightly false sense of foregrounding the women, but the dynamic of the episode is already becoming clear. The men remain relatively static, stolid even, but we are always conscious of their presence. This is partly because of the way that Meriel and Rachel regularly refer across to the men. It is worth noting, in particular, the moments when Rachel has her back to the men. She looks over her shoulder, Meriel follows her lead and points at the men. In terms of character motivation for these gestures, the women are imagining the way that their plans might involve the men; but this is also fine stage craft on the part of Hannah and Olivia: the frequent glances and gestures to the men direct the audience to their reactions and ensure that their own giggling does not pull the focus entirely away from Vincent and Hilliard.
As we reflected on this read-through, Richard Cave initiated a discussion about the sexual innuendo in the scene, wondering about the extent to which the women were aware what they were saying, whether it was a conscious attempt to intimidate and embarrass the men or a sign of their own naïveté. Olivia felt that they were not ‘purposeful puns’, that the sexual innuendo emerged without the women really knowing what they were saying, arguing that if the innuendo were conscious they would need to be less caught up in the excitement of formulating the plan, and that the laughter was itself an indication of their ingenuousness. Alan made the point that the problem for an actor was that you frequently needed to imply sexual innuendo for the audience without compromising the integrity of the characterisation. One way of dealing with this can be seen in the following extract from the next read-through. What is worth noting here is the way that the body language and childlike gestures of the women create a sense that even if they are not really aware of the implications of what they are saying and planning, they recognise it as ‘naughty’ and deliberately encourage each other in this naughtiness.
The discussion then turned to the women’s announcement of their plan, and it was suggested that the element of performance in this might be developed. As Helen Ostovich noted, the business of two people trying to tell a story (“You tell. No you tell. No you tell...”) is an old comic routine that appears in numerous plays of the period (and subsequently). In this instance, it contributes to the sense of the women taunting the men, playing a game to make them (and us) wait for the announcement. It also had the unexpected effect of differentiating between the two male characters. When we first started this workshop both men seemed similarly dull, their main function in the scene being as foils to the volatile impulsiveness of the women. By
developing the comic routine of the announcement, however, we began to notice that the characters of Vincent and Hilliard were revealed through subtle differences in their reactions to the Meriel and Rachel. Look, for example, at the way the two men respond in this short extract. Vincent’s line “Oh, is that all?” betrays his diffidence and exasperation with the situation, whereas Hilliard seems amused and intrigued, if a little anxious. Vincent may repeat Hilliard’s line “When?” in this version, but his tone is very different. After this read through Alan Morrissey observed that he was now getting a much stronger sense that while Meriel and Rachel were furtively hatching their plot about joining the beggars, both men were assuming that they were going to talk about sex; and that their different reactions to this is what is beginning to distinguish the two men. If Vincent fears that every time one of the women comes forward, they are going to broach the subject of sex, Hilliard is excited, if a little wary.
Richard Cave observed that although the characters were becoming much more distinctive, the grouping of the quartet on the stage (with all four bunched together) did not really reflect the complexity of the interaction. The following extract (which includes a brief break in the action as the actors and director work out more specific moves on the stage) is from the final read-through of the episode.. In this version, Hilliard asks, “When” in excited anticipation; Vincent’s echo is now an expression of anxiety; and there is something very defensive about his line, “Oh, is that all?” Hilliard’s tentative enthusiasm also has an effect on the women. In earlier versions, when the women tried to make their announcement, the dominant sense was of girls playing a game for each other. In this version, there is something much more coquettish about them: as each steps forward only to retreat immediately, it is at least partly in response to Hilliard. The movement, as Rachel pairs up with Hilliard and Rachel runs round to make sure that Vincent does not escape, creates a sense that the men have been physically as well as metaphorically ambushed. As Alan said earlier in the workshop, “It feels like the women are driving the men into adulthood, however unconsciously”
Although our intention when we embarked on this workshop had been primarily to explore the mechanics and the theatrical dynamics of young women’s laughter and its effect on the men, we found that what had appeared on paper to be a relatively simple use of comic effects to introduce exposition was richer and more complex than any of us had imagined. Taken together, these two workshops on the opening scene of Act 2 echoed many of the deeper themes of the play, which is centrally concerned with role-play, performance and identity.
We
are for you upon any way, as far as horse and money
can carry us.
148VincentAy, and if those means fail us, as far as our
legs can bear, or our hands can help us.
149RachelAnd we will
put you to’t†gg3548
test you, see if you mean what you say
. Come aside, Meriel ―
They go aside and whisper together.
150Vincent [To HILLIARD] Some
jeer†gs654
(n) scoff, or taunt (OED n2, 1)
, perhaps, to put upon us.
151Hilliard [To VINCENT] What think you of a pilgrimage to
St. Winifred’s Well*n5394
This seventh-century shrine in Holywell, Flintshire, North Wales, commemorates the death and resurrection of Winifred, who was beheaded when she refused to marry a local chieftan. The spring that arose from the spot where her head fell was said to have healing waters; it is the oldest continuously operated and visited pilgrimage destination in the United Kingdom. The site is mentioned in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, and may be familiar to modern readers of Ellis Peters' Brother Cadfael mysteries.
?
152VincentOr a journey to the wise woman at
Nantwich*n5395
This market town in Cheshire is situated 17 miles southeast of Chester. It is not famous for a wise woman; Brome is probably punning on the 'wich'-sound.
,
to ask if we be fit husbands for ’em?
153HilliardThey are not
scrupulous†gg3549
prone to hesitate or doubt; distrustful (OED 1b)
in that, we having
had their growing loves up from our childhoods,
and the old squire’s good will before all men.
155Vincent [To HILLIARD] What’s the
conceit†gg1526
conception, fancy, whim, clever trick
, I marvel?
158RachelAnd then,
sirrah†gs655
comical address to saucy young person, male or female; in this instance, to a saucy younger sister
Meriel
[Whispering to MERIEL] ――
Hark again ― ha, ha, ha! ―
159Vincent [To HILLIARD] How they are taken with it!
160MerielHa, ha, ha! ― Hark again, Rachel.
[Whispering]
161HilliardSome wonderful nothing, sure. They will
laugh as much to see a swallow fly with a white feather
imped†gg3550
grafted, implanted
in her tail.
164Vincent [To HiILLIARD] If it be not some trick upon us, which they’ll
discover in some monstrous shape, they
cozen†gg3551
deceive, dupe, beguile, impose upon (OED 2)
me.
[Loudly, to the ladies]
Now, ladies, is your project ripe? Possess us with
the knowledge of it.
[RACHEL and MERIEL return to the gentlemen.]
165RachelIt is more precious than to be imparted upon
a slight demand.
166HilliardPray, let us hear it. You know we are your
trusty
servant†gg999
professed lover, one attentive to the desires of a beloved
s.
167VincentAnd have kept all your
counsels†gg3554
secrets (OED n, 5, especially 5d)
ever since
we have been infant playfellows.
168RachelYes, you have played at all kinds of small game
with us; but this is to the purpose. Ha, ha, ha! ――
170RachelAnd asks a stronger
tongue–tie†gg3552
oath of silence, of the 'cross my heart and hope to die' variety that children swear by
than tearing
of books, burning of samplers, making dirt-pies,
or piss and paddle in’t.
171VincentYou know how and what we have vowed:
to wait upon you any way, any how, and any whither.
175RachelWhy, gentlemen ― ha, ha! ― Thus it is ―― Tell
it you, Meriel.
177Meriel [To RACHEL] You are the elder. Pray tell it you.
178Rachel [To MERIEL] You are the younger. I command you tell it.
Come, out with it! They long to have it.
181MerielIn troth, you must tell it, sister; I cannot! Pray begin.
182RachelThen, gentlemen,
stand your ground†gg3553
maintain your position, take a firm stand; (colloquially) 'hold onto your hats'
.
184RachelYou seemed e’en now to admire the
felicity*n5396
Rachel is deliberately baiting Vincent by quoting his word back at him. See [JC 2.1.speech119].
of beggars.
185MerielAnd have engaged yourselves to join with us in any course.
186RachelWill you now with us, and for our sakes turn beggars?
187MerielIt is our resolution and our
injunction†gg3754
the action of enjoining or authoritatively directing; an authoritative or emphatic admonition or order (OED 1)
on you.
188RachelBut for a time and a short progress.
189MerielAnd for a spring-trick of youth, now, in the season.
190Vincent [To HILLIARD] Beggars! What
rogues†gg3555
mischievous rascals (common as a playful term of reproof or reproach, though perhaps not so playful here); (literally) vagrants, and hence appropriate usage (OED 5 and 1)
are these?
191Hilliard [To VINCENT] A simple trial of our loves and service!
192Rachel [To VINCENT and HILLIARD] Are you resolved upon’t? If not, goodbye.
We are resolved to take our course.
193Meriel [To VINCENT and HILLIARD] Let yours be to keep counsel.
[MERIEL and RACHEL turn away as if to exit.]
194VincentStay, stay! Beggars! Are we not so already?
Do we not beg your loves and your enjoyings?
Do we not beg to be received your servants?
To kiss your hands, or, if you will vouchsafe,
Your lips? Or your embraces?
That we may fetch the rings and priest to marry us ―
Wherein are we no beggars!
196RachelThat will not serve. Your time’s not come for that yet.
You shall beg victuals first.
197Vincent Oh, I conceive your begging progress is to
ramble out this summer among your father’s tenants;
and ’tis
in request†gg3556
that is, the fashionable thing to do
among gentlemen’s daughters
to devour their cheesecakes, apple pies, cream,
and custards,
flapjacks†gg4383
pancakes, sometimes made with sliced apples on top or folded in (apple-jacks)
, and
pan-puddings†gg3562
heavy savoury puddings baked in a pan
.
200RachelI mean stark,
errant†gg3557
punning on (1) wandering and (2) wicked (Haaker)
, downright beggars, I,
Without equivocation:
statute beggars*n5397
As defined by Statute 39 Eliz., c. 3 (1597/98), and re-issued 17 September 1640, known as the Poor Law Act: Every parish was to appoint overseers of the poor to find work for the unemployed and set up parish-houses for poor people who could not support themselves. 39 Eliz., c. 4, determined that fraudulent vagrancy should be suppressed by imprisonment or correction, including stocks, enforced employment of inmates in a workhouse (for 'sturdy rogues'), whipping, and even banishment for 'incorrigible rogues'. The list of beggars included gipsies, fortune-tellers, minstrels, actors (unless members of a sponsored company like the King's Men), pedlars, bearwards, jugglers, tinkers, and petty chapmen of all kinds.
.
201MerielCouchant and passant, guardant, rampant*n5398
All heraldic terms, chosen to march with 'errant', a term romantically attached to Arthurian knights of the Round Table. Couchant means a heraldic animal lying with the body resting on the legs and (according to most authors) the head lifted up, or at least not sunk in sleep (dormant); passant refers to a heraldic four-legged animal walking (usually towards the dexter or right) and looking ahead, with three paws on the ground and the dexter forepaw raised.
If passant guardant, then it is passant with head turned so as to show the full face; rampant refers to a four-legged animal standing on the sinister [left] hind foot with the forepaws in the air, the sinister above the dexter. A rampant animal is usually represented facing the dexter side, with the head in profile. See OED for the possible secondary non-heraldic punning meanings of each term: lurking, fugitive, and fiercely aggressive.
beggars.
202VincentCurrent and vagrant*n5399
More quasi-heraldic joking. Current in heraldry, spelled courant, means running, but in the given spelling here means prevalent, in the present time, or genuine; vagrant is not a heraldic term, but merely sounds like one, and means idle, straying or roaming from place to place.
―
203HilliardStockant, whippant*n5400
More heraldic-sounding nonce-words: frequently set in the stocks and whipped.
beggars!
204VincentMust you and we be such? Would you so have it?
205RachelSuch as we saw so merry, and you concluded
Were th’only happy people in a nation!
Free above scot–free*n6576
Free far beyond the usual sense of freedom from payment of the ‘scot’, or tavern score, or from paying a fine, etc.; exempt from injury, punishment; scatheless (OED). Meriel's speech continues a clear definition of her expression here: freedom from any law, patriarch, religion, without being rebels against the current government (a political exception pertinent to 1641, just before the civil war).
; that observe no law,
Obey no governor, use no religion
But what they draw from their own ancient custom,
Or
constitute†gg3558
compose, determine
themselves, yet are no rebels.
207RachelSuch as of all men’s meat and all men’s money
Take a free part; and, wheresoe’er they travel,
Have all things gratis to their hands provided.
And feasts on that which others scorn for food.
210MerielThe antidote, content, is only theirs.
And, unto that, such full delights are known,
That they conceive the kingdom is their own.
211Vincent [To HILLIARD] ’Fore Heaven I think they are in earnest, for
they were always mad.
212Hilliard [To VINCENT] And we were madder than they, if we should
lose ’em.
213Vincent [To HILLIARD] ’Tis but a mad trick of youth, as they say,
for the spring, or a short progress; and mirth may be
made out of it, knew we how to carry it.
214RachelPray, gentlemen,
be sudden†gg3559
decide quickly
. Hark, you hear the cuckoo?
Cuckoo [sings].
215HilliardWe are most resolutely for you in your course.
216VincentBut the vexation is how to set it on foot.
217RachelWe have projected it.*n5401
That is, we have come up with the idea. The implication is that the two men have to come up with the practical course of action (the 'means' they mention next) to achieve it.
Now if you be perfect
and constant lovers and friends, search you the
means.
[To MERIEL] We have puzzled ’em.
218Meriel [To RACHEL] I am glad on’t. Let ’em
pump†gg3560
make a persistent effort or exert themselves with hard thinking
.
219VincentTroth, a small stock will serve to set up withal.
This doublet sold off o’ my back might serve
to furnish a
camp-royal†gg3561
great number, originally a military term describing a great body of troops (OED camp n2, 2c)
of us.
220HilliardBut how to enter or arrange ourselves into
the crew will be the difficulty. If we light raw and
tame amongst ’em (like cage-birds among a flight
of wild ones) we shall never pick up a living, but
have our brains pecked out.
Enter SPRINGLOVE.
222HilliardOh, here comes SpringLove. His great benefactorship among the
beggars might
prefer†gg1920
advance, promote, favour
us with authority into a ragged regiment presently.
Shall I put it to him?
223RachelTake heed what you do. His greatness with my father will betray us.
224VincentI will cut his throat then. ―
[To SPRINGLOVE]
My noble Springlove, the great commander of the
maunders†gg3563
beggars
and king of
canters†gg3564
rogues and vagabonds who speak the ‘cant’ or special language of thieves; one of the ‘canting crew’
,
we saw the gratitude of your loyal subjects, the large
tributary†gg3565
paying tribute
content they gave
you in their revels.
226HilliardWe have seen all with great delight and admiration.
227SpringloveI have too, kind gentlemen and
ladies, and overheard you in your
quaint†gs659
ingenious
design,
to new create yourselves out of the worldly blessings
and spiritual graces heaven has bestowed upon
you, to be partakers and co-actors too in those vile
courses, which you call delights, ta’en by those
despicable and abhorred creatures.
Against the maker of those happy creatures
Who, of all human, have priority
In their content ― in which they are so blessed
That they enjoy most in possessing least.
Who made ’em such, dost think? Or why so happy?
229RachelHe grows zealous in the cause. Sure he’ll beg indeed.
230HilliardArt thou an hypocrite, then, all this while?
Only pretending charity; or using it
To get a name and praise unto thyself,
And not to cherish and increase those creatures
In their most happy way of living? Or
Dost thou bestow thine alms with a foul purpose
To
stint†gg3566
cause to cease, bring to an end, check, stop (OED 7)
their begging, and with loss to buy
And
slave†gg3567
reduce to the condition of a slave; enslave
those free souls from their liberty?
231Meriel [To RACHEL] They are more zealous in the cause then we!
232Springlove [To MERIEL and RACHEL] But are you, ladies, at defiance too
With reputation and the dignity
Due to your father’s house and you?
233RachelHold thy peace, good Springlove,
and, though you*n4275
] This edition; And, tho' you Q1. These words start the next verse-line in Q1, but clearly the current verse-line is incomplete. Haaker treats the whole speech as prose.
Seem to dislike this course and reprove us for it,
Do not betray us in it.
Your throat’s in question.*n5402
Rachel refers to Vincent's earlier threat [JC 2.1.speech.224] to kill Springlove if he betrays them to Oldrents. This line is a good opportunity for comic double-takes: Rachel could look meaningfully at Vincent, whom she challenges to make good on his earlier idle threat, while Meriel and Hilliard watch attentively to gauge Vincent's response -- and Springlove's.
I tell you for good will, good Springlove.
234MerielWhat wouldst thou have us do? Thou talk’st o’th’ house.
’Tis a base melancholy house.
Our father’s sadness banishes us out on’t.
And, for the delight thou tak’st in beggars and their
brawls, thou canst not but think they live a better
life abroad than we do in this house.
235SpringloveI have sounded your faith, and I am glad I
find you all right. And for your father’s sadness,
I’ll tell you the cause on’t. I overheard it but this
day in his private discourse with his merry mate,
Master Hearty. He has been told by some wizard that
you both were born to be beggars ―
237Springlove― for which he is so tormented in mind that
he cannot sleep in peace, nor look upon you but
with heart’s grief.
239RachelLet him be griev’d then, till we are beggars;
We have just reason to become so now,
And what we thought on but in jest before,
We’ll do in earnest now.
Would have persuaded it; will be your servant in’t.
For, look ye, ladies:
The sentence of your fortune does not say that you
shall beg
for need, hungry or cold necessity*n6577
] Q. I have retained Q's wording, although it might seem that 'need, hunger, or cold necessity' might have been Brome's intention. On the other hand, in Q he is expanding on 'need' as 'necessity', further described as either 'hungry or cold'; I see no need to emend for three nouns, when the phrase makes sense as it stands.
. If therefore
you expose yourselves on pleasure into it, you
shall absolve your destiny nevertheless, and cure
your father’s grief. I am overjoyed to think on’t,
and will assist you faithfully.
241AllA Springlove! A Springlove!
And will with all conveniencies furnish
And set you forth; give you your
dimensions*n5403
This is a term used in surveying and mapping: 'Lineall dimensions are diuersified according to the custome of the Country', explains W. Folkingham, Feudigraphia. The Synopsis or Epitome of Surveying Methodized (1610) (in LEME), in setting out a system of measurements by which one can understand distances.
,
Rules, and directions. I will be your guide,
Your guard, your convoy, your authority.
You do not know my power; my command
I’th’ beggars’ commonwealth.
244SpringloveI’ll confess all. In my
minority†gg3568
period of life prior to attaining full age
My master took me up a naked beggar,
Bred me at school, then took me to his service ―
You know in what good fashion ― and you may
Collect to memory for seven late summers,
Either by leave, pretending friends to see
At far remote parts of the land, or else
By stealth I would absent myself from service
To follow my own pleasure, which was begging,
Led to’t by nature. My indulgent master,
Yet ignorant of my course, on my submission
When cold and hunger forced me back at winter,
Received me still again. Till, two years since,
He being drawn by journey towards the north,
Where I then quartered with a ragged crew
On the highway, not dreaming of him there,
I did accost him, with a Good your worship,
The gift one small penny to a cripple
(For here I was with him)
[He] halts.*n5404
That is, he limps, re-playing the part of a lame beggar, as he illustrates for his current audience.
―
and the good lord
To bless you and restore it you in heaven.
246SpringloveMy head was dirty
clouted†gg3569
covered with, or wrapped in, a cloth (OED ppl, a1, 4)
, and this leg
Swaddled with rags, the other naked, and
My body clad like
his upon the gibbet*n5405
That is: like a hanged man. What did a man wear to be hanged? His good clothing (doublet, sleeves, points, hose, hat, cloak, for example, possibly including boots or shoes) was the perquisite of the hangman, and so he would probably be dressed only in a shirt; and thus considered 'naked', not properly or fully dressed.
.
Yet he, with searching eyes, through all my rags
And counterfeit postures, made discovery
Of his man Springlove, chid me into tears
And a confession of my
forespent†gg3570
spent previously
life.
At last, upon condition that vagary
Should be the last, he gave me leave to run
That summer out. In autumn home came I
In my home clothes again and former duty.
My master not alone conserved my counsel,
But lays more weighty trust and charge upon me.
Such was his love to keep me a home-man
That he conferred his steward’s place upon me,
Which
clogged†gs658
obstructed, or hindered escape (based on the clogs or blocks of heavy wood, or the like, attached to the leg or neck of a man or beast, to impede motion or prevent release from captivity)
me, the last year, from those delights
I would not lose again to be his lord.
247AllA Springlove, a Springlove!
As the inviting season smiles upon you.
Think how you are necessitated to it
To quit your father’s sadness and his fears
Touching your fortune. Till you have been beggars,
The sword hangs over him.*n5406
The reference is to the sword of Damocles, and refers to an imminent danger, which may at any moment descend upon one. In the legend, Damocles, a flatterer, having extolled the happiness of Dionysius, tyrant of Syracuse, was placed by him at a banquet with a sword suspended over his head by a hair, to impress upon him the perilous nature of that happiness (OED).
You cannot think
Upon an act of greater piety
Unto your father than t’expose yourselves,
Brave volunteers, unpressed by common need
Into this meritorious warfare, whence,
After a few days or short season spent,
You bring him a perpetual peace and joy
By expiating the prophecy that torments him.
’Twere worth your time in painful, woeful steps,
With your lives hazard in a pilgrimage*n5549
That is, with your lives as the hazard or gamble in taking a journey that is an act of religious devotion. The piety here is familial piety, showing such deference to the father as the bible enjoins in commanding us to honour our fathers and mothers.
,
So to redeem a father. But you’ll find
A
progress†gg2992
a journey undertaken by the monarch and his/her court (usually during the summer months, as a kind of holiday; but often to avoid residing in London during a time of year when plague was prevalent)
of such pleasure, as I’ll govern’t,
That the most happy courts could never boast
In all their tramplings on the country’s cost,
Whose envy we shall draw, when they shall read
We
out-beg*n4276
That is: to over-do in begging. OED cites the first use of this word in 1651 (Davenant, Gondibert 3.5.13, but clearly Brome used it first. The context is ironic, and implicit criticism of the court's progress, usually a very expensive undertaking for hosts and royal guests, but at the same time gives the young people an authoritative precedent for frivolous behaviour.
them, and for as little need.
249AllA Springlove! A Springlove!
As ― Birds singing Hark! We are summoned forth.
251AllWe follow thee ―
They exit.
2.2*n5561
Randall has the first and last words in this scene, and on the same topic: the distress and the joy that money can bring. In his opening statement, he reveals his guilt over being tempted to keep for himself the money Springlove has left with him to feed and shelter the poor. By the end of the scene, he is delighted that Oldrents has told him to keep the money as a tip, and that Oldrents himself will bear all charges for dealing with the poor, and repay Springlove as well. The question of what Randall should do with the money entrusted to him has another structural use: he tells Oldrents that he is afraid to keep money for Springlove, because of the temptation to spend it on himself, and Oldrents at first advises him to give the money to his daughters for safe-keeping. But Randall returns to say that the daughters and their lovers have disappeared.
Like Randall in his confusion of feelings over money, Oldrents experiences a confusion of feelings over the missing daughters: sorrow at their loss, but relief that their fates are now out of his hands. He tries hard to follow Hearty's instructions about being merry, but has problems keeping it up. He is shadowed by Randall at first, whose sorrow over the entrusted money loosely echoes Oldrents' depression, although Randall recovers after being given the money outright. But another blow makes us focus again on Oldrents: when he learns that his daughters have gone, he refuses to read the letter they left behind for him. Once more, his fear of even worse news makes him rush into enforced joy, as he hands over money not only to Randall, but to everyone on the estate, including the beggars. Hearty does not see this displaced 'joy' as a good sign.
But the beggars are experiencing real joy at the new life in their community: one of the women has been crying out in birthing pains (perhaps a metaphor for the re-birth of Oldrents) and now is delivered of a healthy child. (The safe delivery of Oldrents from depression and guilt will take much longer.) The whole crew celebrates by eating, drinking, singing, and dancing until they all go back into the barn to sleep. Oldrents enjoys observing this happy ending of the beggars' christening feast, but his meeting with the Patrico that follows burdens him once more with ill feeling, which he describes as an overchilling of his stomach [JC 2.2.speech335]. So, although Randall is happy and the beggars are happy, Oldrents still suffers from depression, oddly post-partum, because he cannot yet identify the new life in store for him.
RANDALL enters, a purse in his hand.
252RandallWell, go thy ways.*n5407
The whole of [JC 2.2.speech 252] seems to be based on the similar servant-debate with an invisible devil in The Merchant of Venice (2.2) when Launcelot Gobbo resolves to quit his current master Shylock, and acquire a job with Bassanio, who has just borrowed a large sum in order to woo Portia in Belmont.
If ever any just or charitable
steward was commended, sure thou shalt be
at the last quarter day*n5408
This refers (figuratively) to the last judgement, when God decides who goes to heaven and who to hell. The English calendar marked four quarter days a year for meeting payments for rent and other costs: traditionally Lady Day (March 25), Midsummer Day (June 24), Michaelmas (Sept. 29), and Christmas (Dec. 25). Since the play takes place in spring, the next quarter day or 'end of this quarter' would be June 24.
. Here’s five and twenty
pounds for this quarter’s beggar-charge. And, if he
return not by the end of this quarter, here’s order
to a friend to supply for the next. If I now should
venture for the commendation of an unjust steward
and turn this money to mine own use! Ha! Dear
devil, tempt me not. I’ll do thee service in a greater
matter. But to rob the poor! A poor trick: every
churchwarden†gg4384
a lay honorary officer of a parish or district church, elected to assist the incumbent in the discharge of his administrative duties, to manage such various parochial offices as by custom or legislation devolve upon him, and generally to act as the lay representative of the parish in matters of church-organization (OED)
can do’t. Now something whispers
me that my master, for his steward’s love, will supply
the poor as I may handle the matter. Then I
rob the steward, if I restore him not the money at
his return. Away, temptation, leave me! I am frail
flesh; yet I will fight with thee. But say the steward
never return. Oh, but he will return. Perhaps he may
not return. Turn from me, Satan; strive not to clog
my conscience. I would not have this weight upon’t
for all thy kingdom.
[He walks aside.]
HEARTY enters singing, [with] OLDRENTS.
253Hearty [Singing] Hey down, hey down a down, etc.
Remember, sir, your covenant to be merry.
Yet something pricks me within, methinks.
255HeartyNo further thought, I hope, of fortune’s tell-tales.
256OldrentsI think not of ’em. Nor will I
presage†gg3571
predict, foretell (OED 2a)
That when a disposition of sadness
O’erclouds my spirits, I shall therefore hear
Ill news, or shortly meet with some disaster.
257HeartyNay, when a man meets with bad tidings, why
May not he then compel his mind to mirth,
As well as
puling†gs660
ailing, sickly; weak
stomachs are made strong
By eating against appetite?
259HeartyIt relishes not, you’ll say. No more does meat
That is most savoury to a long–sick stomach,
Until by strife and custom ’tis made good.
260OldrentsYou argue well.
[He gestures at RANDALL.] But do you see yond fellow?
He neither sings nor whistles.
Can he force mirth out of himself now, think you?
263HeartyWhat, speak you of a clod of earth, a
hind†gg3572
rustic
?
But one degree above a beast, compared
To th’airy spirit of a gentleman?
To meet me on my way.
Suppose the ass be tired with sadness. Will you disburden him
To load yourself? Think of your covenant to be merry
In spite of fortune and her riddle–makers.
266Oldrents [Calling out] Why, how now, Randall! Sad? Where’s Springlove?
267Hearty [Aside] He’s ever in his care. But that I know
The old squire’s virtue, I should think Springlove
Were sure his bastard*n5553
This comment, seemingly offhand, is one of many small hints at the play's resolution.
.
I pray that I be charged with it no longer.
The devil and I have strained courtesy these two
hours about it. I would not be corrupted with the
trust of more than is mine own. Master Steward gave
it me, sir, to order it for the beggars. He has made
me steward of the barn and them while he is gone,
he says, a journey to survey and measure lands
abroad about the countries. Some purchase, I think,
for your worship.
269OldrentsI know
his measuring of land*n5554
This phrase puns on Springlove's surveying of property, and his footsteps taken on a journey wandering the countryside. One implies business, the other merely caprice and selfish pleasure, from Oldrents' point of view.
. He’s gone his old way.
And let him go. Am not I merry, Hearty?
270HeartyYes; but
not hearty merry*n5555
That is: not jocular or cheerful in a way that exhibits warmth of affection or friendly feeling. In other words, he is not happy in the same way that Hearty is. Hearty comments here on Oldrents' bitterness at Springlove's failure to obey his employer's wishes.
. There’s a
whim†gg3573
pun
now.
271Oldrents [To RANDALL] The poor’s charge shall be mine. Keep you the money for him.
Knew you but my temptations and my care,
You would discharge me of it.
274RandallI have not had it so many minutes, as I have
been in several minds about it, and most of them
dishonest.
275OldrentsGo then, and give it to one of my daughters to keep for Springlove.
How hard a task it is to alter custom!
278HeartyAnd how easy for money to corrupt it.
What a pure treasurer would he make!
Which makes me think of Springlove.
He might have ta’en his leave though.
280HeartyI hope he’s run away with some large trust.
I never liked such
demure†gs661
sober, grave, serious; reserved or composed in demeanour (OED 2)
downlooked†gg3574
having downcast looks
fellows.
’Tis well. But
this is from the covenant*n5409
That is: this disagreement about Springlove takes us away from the main point of the promise to be merry.
.
To force my spirit only unto mirth.
Should I hear now my daughters were misled
Or run away, I would not send a sigh
To fetch ’em back.
There was an old fellow at Waltham Cross*n5410
In the heart of the town (about 15 miles south-east of London in Hertfordshire) is one of the three surviving medieval Eleanor Crosses, a striking memorial commemorating the over-night resting place of Queen Eleanor’s coffin on its processional journey to Westminster Abbey in 1290.
,
Who merrily sung when he lived by the loss.
He never was heard to sigh with ‘Hey-ho’,
But sent it out with a ‘Hey trolly lo’.
He cheered up his heart, when his goods went to wrack,
With a ‘Hem*n5411
An interjection like a slight half cough, used to attract attention (OED 1); in this case calling the tapster's boy for more wine.
, boy, hem’ and a cup of old sack.
285OldrentsIs that the way on’t? Well, it shall be mine then.
RANDALL enters [with a letter].
286Randall [To OLDRENTS] My mistresses are both abroad, sir.
288RandallOn foot, sir, two hours since, with the two
gentlemen, their lovers. Here’s a letter they left
with the butler. And there’s a
muttering†gg3576
rumour
in the
house.
Within myself the worst that can befall them:
That they are lost and no more mine. What follows?
That I am happy. All my cares are flown.
The counsel I anticipated from
My friend shall serve
to set my rest upon†gg3577
to stake, hazard, or venture all I have on; to set my final hope or trust upon; to place my whole aim or end in (OED rest n2, 7a, d); the phrase, alternatively, may be an allusion to the card game primero: to make a final gamble with the stakes kept in reserve, which were agreed upon at the beginning of the game, and upon the loss of which the game terminated (6a).
,
Without all further helps, to jovial mirth,
Which I will force out of my
spleen†gg1399
abdominal organ, held by many ages to be the seat of melancholy but in the early seventeenth century more traditionally held to be the seat of laughter or mirth (OED 1c)
so freely
That grief shall lose her name where I have being;
And sadness, from my furthest foot of land
While I have life, be banished.
291OldrentsMy tenants shall sit rent–free for this twelvemonth
And all my servants have their wages doubled;
And so shall be my charge in housekeeping.
I hope my friends will find and put me to’t.
292HeartyFor them I’ll be your
undertaker†gg4385
assistant or helper; one who undertakes a task
, sir.
But this is overdone. I do not like it.*n6578
Hearty may simply speak this line directly to Oldrents, who may or may not appear to have heard him. It might be spoken aside, as though Hearty were keeping his opinion to himself, but that is not how the character has been establsihed. Alternatively, he may be addressing the audience directly, pointing out Oldrents' over-reaction to his daughters' letter.
293Oldrents [To RANDALL] And for thy news, the money that thou hast
Is now thine own. I’ll make it good to Springlove.
Be sad with it and leave me. For I tell thee,
I’ll purge my house of stupid melancholy.
294RandallI’ll be as merry as the charge that’s under me.*n6579
That is, Randall will enjoy himself as much as the beggars who are under his 'charge' or supervision in Springlove's absence. Their laughter and singing can be heard from off-stage.
A confused noise within of laughing and singing, and one crying out.
The beggars, sir. Do’e hear ’em in the barn?
295OldrentsI’ll double their allowance too, that they may
Double their numbers and increase their noise.
These bear not sound enough, and one, methought,
Cried out among ’em.
296RandallBy a most natural cause. For there’s a
doxy†gg2835
the mistress of a beggar or rogue
Has been in labour, sir. And ’tis their custom
With songs and shouts to drown the woman’s cries:
A ceremony which they use, not for
Devotion, but to keep off notice of
The work they have in hand. Now she is in
The straw†gg3578
in childbed, or lying-in (OED straw n1, 2b, which gives the first citation as 1661, but clearly the phrase was in common use earlier); the reference is to the period immediately after giving birth
, it seems; and they are quiet.
297HeartyThe
straw*n5557
Hearty's understanding of what he sees as Randall's pun is not readily communicable now. He may be thinking of straw as something of trifling value or importance; or of such expressions as 'lay a straw' = stop, desist; or 'there a straw!' = here I will stop; or perhaps to straw as an exclamation at a worthless act or event (OED n1, 7a, 9b, 7c). The meaning is not clear, and the other characters do not take Hearty up on it.
! That’s very proper there. That’s Randall’s whim.
A Christ’ning; such
upsitting†gg3230
occasion of a woman's first sitting up to receive company after having given birth
and
gossiping†gg3231
christening party, at which godparents and friends celebrate the birth of a child and survival of the mother
!
I mean to send forty miles circuit at the least
To draw in all the beggars can be found;
And such
devices†gg3579
entertainments; especially devised or fancifully invented for dramatic representation; ‘a mask played by private persons’ or the like (OED 11)
we will have for jollity
As fame shall boast to all posterity!
Am I not merry, Hearty? Hearty merry?
299HeartyWould you were else.
I fear this over-doing.*n6580
Again, Hearty could be speaking aside as to himself, or directly addressing the audience, but Hearty's character seems to be established as forthright, and one who would directly address his friend.
300OldrentsI’ll do’t for expiation of a
crime*n6581
A bit of light foreshadowing: we do not discover Oldrents' 'crime' until the end of the play.
That’s charg’d upon my conscience till’t be done.
301HeartyWhat’s that?
[To RANDALL] What says he?
302OldrentsWe will have such a
festival month†gg3232
celebratory lying-in period, usually four weeks, following birth, in which the mother recuperates and receives visitors
on’t.
Randall ――
303RandallSir, you may spare the labour and the cost.
They’ll never thank you for’t. They’ll not endure
A ceremony that is not their own,
Belonging either to the child or mother.
A month, sir? They’ll not be detained so long
For your estate! Their work is done already.
The
bratling†gg4386
little brat, infant
’s born, the doxy’s in the
strummel†gg3580
straw (thieves' cant)
Laid by an
autem mort†gg3581
married woman (thieves' cant)
of their own crew
That served for midwife, and the childbed woman
Eating of
hasty pudding†gg3582
pudding made of flour stirred in boiling milk or water to the consistency of a thick batter; if the grain used is oatmeal, then it is usually called ‘porridge’
for her supper,
And the child, part of it for
pap†gg3583
pabulum, a watered down version of the porridge fed to the new mother; usually the word refers to the nipple of the nursing mother's breast
,
I warrant you, by this time; then to sleep;
So to rise early to regain the strength
By travel, which she lost by
travail*n11650
In addition to the ongoing use of this word as punning with and pronounced in the same way as travel, the word here carries intimations of labour pains (the context develops this vein of imagery).
.
306RandallShe’ll have the
bantling†gg3758
brat (often used depreciatively, and formerly as a synonym of bastard) (OED)
at her back tomorrow
That was today in her belly, and march
afoot–back†gg3759
a combinative term based on a-horse-back (OED afoot adv. 4, citing
Greene's Groats worth of Wit of 1592, Diijb,: 'When I was fayne to carry my playing fardle afoot-backe')
With it.
308RandallAnd for their gossiping, now you are so nigh,
If you’ll look in, I doubt not but you’ll find ’em
At their high feast already.
RANDALL opens the scene*n5416
This stage direction suggests that Randall opens a curtain or tapestry in front of the much-debated 'discovery space' or small inner stage area to display the beggars' banquet.
: the beggars discovered at their feast. After they have scrambled a while at their victuals, this song.
Here, safe in our skipper†gg3584
barn, outhouse, or shed, used as a sleeping-place by vagrants (cant)
, let’s cly†gg3585
take, or get (cant)
off our peck
And booze†gg3586
meat and drink (cant)
in defiance o’th’ harman–beck†gg3587
constable; the parish-constable or beadle (cant)
.
Here’s pannum†gg3588
bread, or food generally (cant)
and lap†gg3589
drink, such as buttermilk or whey; liquor in general, anything that can be lapped up (thieves' cant)
, and good poplars of yarrum†gg3590
milk pottage (Haaker)
,
To fill up the crib†gg3591
wickerwork basket in which food was stored (OED 7a, 6b)
and to comfort the quarron*n5412
body (thieves' cant). Q1 has 'quarron', but the correct spelling 'quarrons' is not plural, as Brome assumed (OED), perhaps only for the sake of the rhyme.
.
Now booze a round health to the go–well†gg3593
prosperous journey outward (OED go v, VIII)
and come–well†gg3594
come into this world, birth (Haaker); or perhaps simply constructed with go-well as an analogy to 'come and go', a good wish for successful travelling, or the freedom to travel freely
Of Cisley Bumtrinket*n5413
This was a common name or disparaging name for a lower-class female. Haaker cites Dekker's The Shoemakers' Holiday and Jonson's The Gypsies Metamorphosed. Hoy (vol. 1, p. 29) points out that Dekker used the name in Satiromastix as an insult among many uttered by Tucca, to whom Mistress Miniver responds: 'Why dost call me such horrible ungodly names then?' (3.1.186-87). Jonson was mocked for using the name Sisley for the waiting-woman in The New Inn whereupon he changed her name to 'Prudence'.
that lies in the strummel†gg3580
straw (thieves' cant)
.
Now booze a round health to the go–well and come–well
Of Cisley Bumtrinket that lies in the strummel.
Here’s ruff–peck and cassan†gg3595
bacon and cheese (thieves' cant)
, and all of the best,
And scraps of the dainties†gg2189
delicacies
of gentry cove’s*n5415
This means: the gentleman's (cant); that is, Oldrents'.
feast.
Here’s grunter and bleater†gg3597
pork and lamb or mutton
, with Tib of the buttery†gg3598
goose (OED Tib, 3)
And margery–prater†gg3599
hen (cant)
all dressed without sluttery†gg3600
cooked or prepared for guests without drudgery (this is 'Land of Cockaigne' or 'Oleanna' thinking, in which the paradise of the working poor is dreamed of as a place where they lounge at ease, fed and housed without lifting a finger, since the streams run with wine or ale, and animals run around offering perfectly cooked slices of themselves for nourishment)
.
For all this bene cribbing†gg4387
good food (thieves' cant); ("crib" or "cribbing" can also refer to shelter)
and peck let us then
Booze a health to the gentry cove of the ken*n5414
This means: the gentleman of the house (in other words: Oldrents).
.
Now booze a round health to the go–well and come–well
Of Cisley Bumtrinket that lies in the strummel.
At their full happiness. What is an estate
Of wealth and power, balanced with their freedom,
But a mere load of outward compliment,
When they enjoy the fruits of rich content?
Our
dross†gg4388
impure matter, such as scum or extraneous matter thrown off from metals in the process of melting, as in alchemy, in which metals are heated and coolled several times until they are pure, free of all sediment or impurities
but weighs us down into despair,
While their
sublimèd spirits*n6582
This refers to transformed essences; it is another alchemical term. After the dross has been melted out of metal, then the refined or sublimed matter that remains can be reduced to its quintessence, the philosopher's stone, which turns anything it touches to pure gold, and cures all ills. The metaphor Oldrents uses here suggests that people with too many material things and concerns are corrupted with impure matter; but the beggars have no material things, and that fact frees their spirits into a state of pure joy.
dance i’th’ air.
314HeartyI ha’not so much wealth to weigh me down,
Nor so little, I thank chance, as to dance naked.
315OldrentsTrue, my friend Hearty, thou having less than I ―
Of which I boast not ― art the merrier man.
But they exceed thee in that way so far
That, should I know my children now were beggars ―
Which yet I will not read ― I must conclude
They were not lost, nor I to be aggrieved.
316HeartyIf this be madness, ’tis a merry fit.
[The] PATRICO enters. Many of the beggars look out.
317PatricoTour out†gg3602
look out or around (see Richard Head, The Canting Academy (1673) in LEME)
with your
glaziers†gg3601
eyes (cant) (OED 5)
. I swear by the
ruffin†gg3603
devil (cant) (see, for example: 'As the Ruffin nap the Cuffin-quier, and let the Harmanbeck trine with his Kinchins about his Colquarron'; That is, Let the Devil take the Justice, and let the Constable hang with his children about his neck (Head, 1673, in LEME)
That we are assaulted by a
queer cuffin†gg3604
a churlish or contemptible fellow; (also) a justice of the peace (thieves' cant) (OED queer a and n1, special uses).
.
318RandallHold! What d’ye mean, my friends? This is our master,
The master of your feast and feasting–house.
His good worship! Bless his worship![The] Beggars exit.
PATRICO remains.
321Patrico [To OLDRENTS] Now, bounteous sir, before you go,*n6583
This entire speech shifts the verse from iambic pentameter to octosysllabic rhyming couplets, generally a choice in drama of the period for magical foretellings, riddles, or otherworldly utterances. See, for example, the fairy talk in A Midsummer Night's Dream 2.1.
Hear me, the beggar Patrico,
Or priest, if you do rather choose
That we no word of canting use.
Long may you live, and may your
store†gg2245
things with which a household, camp or other base of activities is stored (with food, clothing and other amenities) (OED n, 1a); sufficient or plentiful supply (of something needful) (OED n, 4a); plenty, abundance (OED n, 4b); things owned by someone, or the goods/money they have accumulated (OED n, 5a)
Never decay, nor
balk†gg3605
avoid or shun; refuse (OED v1, 2)
the poor,
And as you more in years do grow,
May treasure to your coffers flow.
And may your care no more thereon
Be set than ours are, that have none,
But as your riches do increase,
So may your heart’s content and peace.
And, after many many years,
When the poor have quit their fears
Of losing you, and that with heaven
And all the world you have made even,
Then may your blessed posterity,
Age after age successively
Until the world shall be untwined,
Inherit your estate and mind.
So shall the poor to the last day,
For you in your succession*n5417
That is, for your sake as you live on in the heirs to your estate.
, pray.
322Hearty’Tis a good vote, Sir Patrico, but you are
too grave. Let us hear and see something of your
merry grigs†gg3508
extravagantly lively people, full of frolic and jest (OED grig n1, 5)
that can sing, play
gambols†gg3606
leaps or springs in dancing or sporting; capers; more generally, frolicsome merrymaking (OED 2a and 2c)
, and do
feats.
And talk as wild and wantonly
As Tom or Tib, or Jack or Jill,
When they at
boozing ken†gg3607
drinking house, or tavern (cant)
do swill.
Will you therefore deign to hear
My autem mort, with throat as clear
As was
Dame Annis’*n5418
This was a spring-fed well, famous for its clear and healthful waters, also known as St Agnes Well or St Agnes Le Clare, formerly on Old Street, West Smithfield. Of the well Stow writes:
Somewhat north from Holy-Well is one other well, curbed square with stone and is called Dame Annis the Clear and not far from it, but somewhat west is also another clear water called Perilous Pond.
(A Survey of London, ch. 3; see also John Strype's version of the Survey online.)
of the name?
How sweet in song her notes she’ll frame,
That when she chides, as loud is yawning
As
Chanticleer*n5419
This is the name of a rooster that appears in the fables of Reynard the Fox, a version of which is told in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales.
waked by the dawning.
324HeartyYes, pray let’s hear her. What, is she your wife?
As well as those o’th’
presbytery*n5420
The term refers to a body of presbyters, elders, or priests, with reference to the early church (OED 3).
,
Take wives and
defy dignity*n6584
That is, reject formal church marriage dignifying couples in favour of free selection of mates in a common-law or beggars-law bond.
.
He exits.
[The] PATRICO enters with his old wife, with a wooden bowl of drink. She is drunk.
327PatricoBy Sol’mon, I think my mort is in drink.
I find by her stink, and the pretty pretty pink
Of her
neyes†gg3608
eyes
, that half wink,
That the tippling feast with the doxy in the nest
Hath turned her brain to a merry merry vein.
328Autem MortGo fiddle, Patrico, and let me sing. First set
me down here on both my
prats†gg3609
buttocks
. Gently, gently, for
cracking of my wind, now I must use it. Hem, hem.
She sings.
This is bene†gg4390
good (thieves' cant)
booze†gg4391
liquor, alcoholic drink of any kind
, this is bene booze,
Too little is my skew†gg3610
cup or wooden bowl (cant) (OED n4)
.
I booze no lage†gg3611
water (cant) (OED)
, but a whole gage†gg3612
quart pot (OED n2, 1)
!
Of this I’ll booze to you.
This booze is better than rum booze†gg3613
wine (OED rum, a1, 2)
;
It sets the gan†gg3614
mouth (cant)
a–giggling;
The autem mort finds better sport
In boozing than in niggling†gg3615
fornicating
.
She tosses off her bowl, falls back, and is carried out.
329PatricoSo, so. Your part is done ―
He exits with her.
[The] PATRICO enters.
332Patrico [To OLDRENTS] I wish we had, in all our store,
Something that could please you more.
The old or autem mort’s asleep,
But before the young ones creep
Into the straw, sir, if you are ―
As gallants sometimes love coarse fare,
So it be fresh and wholesome ware ―
Disposed to doxy, or a
dell†gg3616
young virgin (cant)
That never yet with man did
mell†gg3617
copulate, have sexual intercourse (OED v2, 3)
,
Of whom no
upright–man†gg3618
big, strong, or sturdy vagrant, one trained as a husbandsman but who chooses to beg or thieve rather than work
is taster,
I’ll present her to you, master.
333OldrentsAway!
You would be punished. ― Oh!*n5558
This sudden reversal of 'punishment' intended for the patrico but rebounding onto Oldrents is another clue to the finale of the play. At this point, the Patrico's offer of a virgin for Oldrents to play with merely seems bizarre; by the end of the play we have a better sense of why the Patrico tested Oldrents with the question.
335OldrentsA sudden qualm*n6585
(1) A scruple of conscience; a pang of guilt; a doubt, esp. as to the rightness of one's actions (OED 1c); (2) A sudden feeling or fit of faintness or sickness. In later use: esp. a sudden feeling of nausea (OED 1d). This confusion of pangs striking Oldrents with the mention of sex and punishment suggests that Oldrents is trying to cover up his guilty reaction to sleeping with a virgin by seeming to feel sick to his stomach. The source of this misgiving is sorted out in Act 5.
Overchills my
stomach*n5559
This was thought in the period to be the inward seat of passion (like lechery as well as finer feelings), emotion, secret thoughts, affections, or feelings (OED 6a). The organ feeling the distress and the doubleness of its meaning (that is, the tension between lechery on the one hand and honourable emotions on the other) also offers a clue that Oldrents does not seem to recognize, and that the audience does not grasp until the play's final scenes.
. But ’twill away.
Dancers enter.
336PatricoSee, in their rags, then, dancing for your sports,
Our
clapperdudgeons†gg3619
born beggars (cant)
and their
walking morts†gg3620
older doxies who claim to be widows by misfortune, left penniless with many children (the story told to facilitate begging)
.
Dance.
337Patrico [To the dancers] You have done well. Now let each tripper
Make a retreat into the
skipper†gg3584
barn, outhouse, or shed, used as a sleeping-place by vagrants (cant)
,
And
couch a hogshead†gg3621
lie down to sleep (cant) (OED couch v1, 1e)
till the
darkman†gg3622
night (cant) (Haaker)
’s passed;
Then all with bag and baggage
bing awast†gg3623
go you hence (cant) (Haaker)
.
[The] beggars exit.
338RandallI told you, sir, they would be gone tomorrow.
I understand their canting.
339Oldrents [To the PATRICO] Take that amongst you. ―Gives money.
Though you still give, you ne’er have less.He exits.
341Hearty [Calling after him] And as your walks may lead this way,
Pray strike in here another day.
So you may go, Sir Patrico ―
How think you, sir? Or what? Or why do you think
at all, unless on
sack†gg483
white wine from Spain: sack is derived from 'sec', and usually meant a dry white wine; hence Falstaff's enjoyment of 'sack and sugar'
and supper-time? Do you fall
back? Do you not know the danger of relapses?
342OldrentsGood Hearty, thou mistak’st me. I was thinking
upon this Patrico. And that
he has more soul
then a born beggar in him*n5560
Another clue to Patrico's identity, not revealed until the end of the play. The implication here is that Oldrents half-recognizes something in the Patrico, and is trying to explain it to himself.
.
343HeartyRogue enough, though, to offer us his what–
d’e–call’ts, his doxies! ’Heart and a cup of sack, do we
look like old
beggar–nigglers†gg3624
men who have sex with beggar-women
?
345HeartyWill you then talk of sack, that can drown
sighing? Will you in to supper, and take me there
your guest? Or must I creep into the barn among
your welcome ones?
346OldrentsYou have rebuked me timely and most friendly.
He exits.
347HeartyWould all were well with him.He exits.
For now these pounds are, as I feel them
swag†gg3625
move unsteadily or heavily from side to side
,
Light at my heart, though heavy in the bag*n5421
That is, the money Springlove gave Randall to keep for the beggars is no longer making Randall feel guilty, since Oldrents has ordered him to keep it for a tip. Oldrents will repay the money to Springlove, and has already paid for the beggars.
.
He exits.
Edited by Helen Ostovich, Eleanor Lowe, Richard Cave, Elizabeth Schafer