THE NOVELLA,
A COMEDY.
A COMEDY.
The Persons of the Play.
| [Link] |
PANTALONI* n9250
n9643
GUADAGNI* n9251
|
| FABRITIO, son to Pantaloni |
| PISO, his friend
FRANCISCO, lover of Flavia |
| HORATIO, his friend |
| NANULO*n9252
ASTUTTA* n9253
|
| NICOLO*n9254
|
| VICTORIA*n9255
n9256
|
| JACCONETTA*n9257
|
| FLAVIA, daughter to Guadagni |
| BORGIO (revealed to be Paulo)*n9258
|
| [DON PEDRO]*n9259
|
| SWATZENBURGH*n9260
|
| CHEQUINO*n9261
PROSPERO* n9262
|
| PEDLAR-WOMAN ZAFFI* n9263
|
The Scene: Venice.
PROLOGUE.
2PrologueShould I not speak a prologue
n10118
We decided to explore the prologue to the play in a workshop for a number of reasons. It requires a mode of direct address very different from passages where such address had been investigated previously in workshops. These, being situated within a developing narrative, had often involved a degree of choice for the actor: is this passage better delivered as an aside or directed straight at the audience? Here, however, at the play’s opening Brome is confronting his audience and establishing what their reciprocal relationships will be throughout the coming action. The direct address here is unequivocal. So what kind of tone does this invite the actor to adopt? There is too an idea running through the speech that it is all improvised: the situation supposes that an actor has been pushed on stage by the company because an audience expect a prologue; but, as Brome has not actually written one, the actor has to fall back on his own wits and invent on the spot. The intimation is that Brome has little respect for his spectators. However, though on the one hand the attitude is offhand or even confrontational, by contrast the style is meticulously controlled, the couplets sophisticated in their construction, and the metrics exact. Could one perform such consummate literary artistry as improvised? What can an actor make of all these seeming contradictions? Would it be possible, for example, for the actor to play his own persona off against that which Brome is establishing for himself as dramatist in this moment? How intimate might the tone and relationship between actor and spectator become and on what grounds?
Two actors worked on the prologue, Hannah Watkins and Alan Morrissey; each took a different approach. Hannah decided to stand her ground confidently and speak down to the audience, as if pained at being required to make such overtures to them. She attended to the structuring of the couplets with considerable precision; frankly explained the distasteful situation of there not being a prologue written, which thus necessitates her improvising extempore. Here is a demonstration of coldly framed wit that chooses not to go for local jokes to provoke laughter by the way but builds towards that final couplet with a controlled disdain. Hannah attends to the syntax with punctilious exactitude, playing every punctuation mark for what it is worth, enforcing spectators to hang on her every word to learn precisely where each long sentence is leading. This is a performance that delights in Brome’s calculated logic. The invitation to laugh is withheld right to the very last word and the pause before its utterance holds the whole speech and the exact relationships of actor and of author to audience in suspension till released into the comic threat implicit in “hereafter”. The tone throughout this performance created by the persona Hannah adopts is what one might term Jonsonian: its over-riding tone is combative; it mocks at audiences, at their bogus tastes that reveal they cannot discriminate good from poor artistry, at their demand that their own expectations be fulfilled and established conventions (such as the prologue and how it is presented) be honoured, whether there is any point to such conventions or not. The joke is at all times directed at the docility of spectators for being in thrall to fashionable taste and devoid of real judgement, which renders them all too easy a target for a playwright’s scorn and satire. Such a reading of the prologue prepares an audience to expect that they will have to be alert to the nuanced implications of the comedy which follows (it is to offer a shrewdly pointed commentary on gender relations and patriarchal responsibilities) and not to expect to rest easy in their laughter.
Alan took a very different line, choosing to create for himself the persona of company clown (one might imagine him subsequently in the role of Nicolo). Rather than stand aloof like Hannah, he chooses to dramatise both speech and situation: he starts having a row with his offstage fellows who are forcing him out onstage; but, once he is in the playing space and observing a watching audience, he turns his attention to them and to creating a good relationship with them. Unlike Hannah who loftily addressed spectators, Alan fraternises with them, takes them all into his confidence, selects individuals to tease, share an understanding with, or befriend. He uses the audience throughout and similarly uses his script with the occasional “ums” and “ahs” to create the illusion that he is winging it and making the whole lot up as he goes along. He makes as many incidental jokes as the lines will allow, though without losing the overall direction of the speech. If Hannah’s account was Jonsonian in its inspiration, this is a much more a Shakespearean delivery, akin to the soliloquies of Launce in The Two Gentlemen of Verona or of Young Gobbo in The Merchant of Venice, which are stand-up turns like the lazzi of commedia dell’arte. Gobbo is an interesting presence behind the performance, since Brome’s comedy, makes numerous inter-textual references to Shakespeare’s, as the Introduction and several annotations to the text of The Novella examine in detail. (The persona was wholly of Alan’s devising; he was in no way tutored to act in this way.) What delights in this reading is how the actor balances a decidedly colloquial delivery with maintaining a light hold on the couplets and the stanzaic structures. This seems improvised but one senses Brome’s control underlying it all, which hints exactly at the situation with the play that will follow: on the surface it invites mirth, but to the astute listener there are serious implications to its witty invention.
and appear
n10118
Two actors worked on the prologue, Hannah Watkins and Alan Morrissey; each took a different approach. Hannah decided to stand her ground confidently and speak down to the audience, as if pained at being required to make such overtures to them. She attended to the structuring of the couplets with considerable precision; frankly explained the distasteful situation of there not being a prologue written, which thus necessitates her improvising extempore. Here is a demonstration of coldly framed wit that chooses not to go for local jokes to provoke laughter by the way but builds towards that final couplet with a controlled disdain. Hannah attends to the syntax with punctilious exactitude, playing every punctuation mark for what it is worth, enforcing spectators to hang on her every word to learn precisely where each long sentence is leading.
This is a performance that delights in Brome’s calculated logic. The invitation to laugh is withheld right to the very last word and the pause before its utterance holds the whole speech and the exact relationships of actor and of author to audience in suspension till released into the comic threat implicit in “hereafter”. The tone throughout this performance created by the persona Hannah adopts is what one might term Jonsonian: its over-riding tone is combative; it mocks at audiences, at their bogus tastes that reveal they cannot discriminate good from poor artistry, at their demand that their own expectations be fulfilled and established conventions (such as the prologue and how it is presented) be honoured, whether there is any point to such conventions or not. The joke is at all times directed at the docility of spectators for being in thrall to fashionable taste and devoid of real judgement, which renders them all too easy a target for a playwright’s scorn and satire. Such a reading of the prologue prepares an audience to expect that they will have to be alert to the nuanced implications of the comedy which follows (it is to offer a shrewdly pointed commentary on gender relations and patriarchal responsibilities) and not to expect to rest easy in their laughter.Alan took a very different line, choosing to create for himself the persona of company clown (one might imagine him subsequently in the role of Nicolo). Rather than stand aloof like Hannah, he chooses to dramatise both speech and situation: he starts having a row with his offstage fellows who are forcing him out onstage; but, once he is in the playing space and observing a watching audience, he turns his attention to them and to creating a good relationship with them. Unlike Hannah who loftily addressed spectators, Alan fraternises with them, takes them all into his confidence, selects individuals to tease, share an understanding with, or befriend. He uses the audience throughout and similarly uses his script with the occasional “ums” and “ahs” to create the illusion that he is winging it and making the whole lot up as he goes along. He makes as many incidental jokes as the lines will allow, though without losing the overall direction of the speech.
If Hannah’s account was Jonsonian in its inspiration, this is a much more a Shakespearean delivery, akin to the soliloquies of Launce in The Two Gentlemen of Verona or of Young Gobbo in The Merchant of Venice, which are stand-up turns like the lazzi of commedia dell’arte. Gobbo is an interesting presence behind the performance, since Brome’s comedy, makes numerous inter-textual references to Shakespeare’s, as the Introduction and several annotations to the text of The Novella examine in detail. (The persona was wholly of Alan’s devising; he was in no way tutored to act in this way.) What delights in this reading is how the actor balances a decidedly colloquial delivery with maintaining a light hold on the couplets and the stanzaic structures. This seems improvised but one senses Brome’s control underlying it all, which hints exactly at the situation with the play that will follow: on the surface it invites mirth, but to the astute listener there are serious implications to its witty invention.
In a starched*n9466
Rice starch used for starching ruffs is also a good "hair gel", as it keeps hair or beard in place and can be brushed out quickly. (I am grateful to Dr. Eleanor Lowe for this information.)
formal beard and cloak*n6657
Like many of Ben Jonson's prologues and inductions, Brome's frequently give us insights into staging and performance practices in the seventeeth-century theatre. Actors speaking prologues were clearly recognisable to audiences then by how they appeared. Sometimes, as in the prologue to the play-within-the-play in The Antipodes the actor wears clothing symbolic of the ensuing action: in this particular case, since the play that follows is to be about social inversions, he wears on his feet shoes of beaver fur more suited to a hat and on his head a cap of leather more suited to footwear [AN 2.1.speeches250-254]. Generally, however, the prologue-speaker wore a distinctive cloak. In the Induction to Jonson's Cynthia's Revels (acted 1600) three boy actors fight over who shall speak the prologue, which requires them to fight for possession of the cloak. Prologues were often formal occasions, when the actor made suit to the audience for acceptance of the ensuing play. Brome, however, pretends not to have written an appropriate speech, leaving the company to place onstage an actor who must therefore improvise something appropriate to the occasion. (It is all a joke, of course: Brome has certainly penned what is spoken.) So we are presented with a suitably impressive and stately-looking figure (the cloak is noticeably supplemented with a beard that, being waxed or "starched", would follow the currently popular van Dyck style, where the hairs were gathered or teased to a pointed end below the chin) who nonetheless is unsure how to proceed. His speech is about enacting an expected role that goes with a given, known kind of costuming and about how spectators view and, more importantly, judge a role in relation to current theatrical conventions and their own trained expectations. Cunningly Brome has set up the themes that are central to his comedy, particularly in relation to how spectators will view his main character, Victoria, and her costuming as the Novella.
, I fear,
n9466
n6657
Some of this auditory†gg1694
audience
would be vexed,
gg1694
And say this is a sermon without a text*n6658
It was customary for a preacher to start his sermon by reciting a precise passage from the Bible or another religious work which afforded him his theme. The resulting oration became in consequence a kind of meditation or commentary on the given text.
.
n6658
Some think it so essential, that they say
Nor†gg3457
neither
fool, nor prologue, there can be no play.
gg3457
Our author’s unprovided; and doth vow
Whate’er I say must stand for prologue now.
Then have at wit†gg2674
intelligence, wisdom; quickness, ingenuity
for once, why mayn’t I be
gg2674
Inspired with wit and sense extempore†gg1021
improvised
?
gg1021
But first I’ll tell you that I had commission†gs950
authoritative charge or direction to act in a prescribed manner; order, charge, instruction (OED 1a)
gs950
From him to tell you that he’ll not petition
That nought†gg5954
nothing
should make a man a wit†gs952
a person of lively fancy, who has the faculty of saying smart or brilliant things, now always so as to amuse; a witty person (OED II, 10)
, but wit.
gg5954
gs952
He’ll ’bide†gg5955
abbreviation for abide (meaning to await)
his trial, and submits his cause
gg5955
To you the jury, so*n6659
In the sense: so that (you'll judge) or if (you'll judge).
you’ll judge by laws.
n6659
If pride or ignorance*n6661
(If the audience should be swayed or influenced) by their own egocentricy or stupidity...
should rule*n6660
In the sense: control or influence (the audience, acting as Brome's "jury")
, he fears
n6661
n6660
An unfair trial, ’cause not tried by’s*n9459
That is: by his (peers).
peers*n9267
A peer is defined by the OED (1a) as "a person of the same civil or ecclesiastical status or rank as the person in question; an equal before the law"; or as "a member of the same age group or social set; a contemporary" (1c). Both these meanings reside within this usage by Brome here; but, since the over-riding context concerns sound judgement, the dominant meaning of "peers" is one's equals in terms of intelligence, ability, achievement, cultural sensibility. Behind the image lies the concept of justice as involving trial by a jury of equals.
.
n9459
n9267
Faith†gs953
in faith; truly
, be yourselves awhile, and pass your vote
gs953
On what you understand, and do not dote†gg4424
be overly fond
gg4424
On things ’bove nature or intelligence*n6662
That is: humanity or commonsense.
.
n6662
All we pretend to is but mirth and sense;
And he that looks for more, must e’en go seek
Those poet-bounces†gg4425
poets who are boastful swaggerers (OED bounce, n 4b) or show-offs
that write English Greek.*n6663
These are exhibitionistic poets, probably with a university background, who write in an affected or convoluted, neo-classical style, treating English as if it were Greek.
gg4425
n6663
Our author aims only to gain you laughter,
Which if you wont*n6664
In the sense: resist, will not be open to (laughter)
, he’ll laugh at you hereafter.
n6664
ACT ONE*n9441
The relatively short opening act, divided into two scenes, shows Brome's expertise in the art of exposition. Within a short space of playing time he establishes the two linked plots about which his action will evolve; in the first scene he hints at a motif that will help resolve his comedy; and by the second scene he is set to elaborate one of the plots thematically.
It is night-time in, we are to suppose, a piazza in Venice. Two young men, Fabritio and Piso, enter in deep disagreement about the former’s conduct: he is planning to flee his home rather than enter an arranged marriage (organised by his father) with a girl, Flavia, for whom he entertains no feelings: he is already pledged to another, Victoria, whom he encountered during his travels in Rome. Fabritio’s continuing respect for his father, Pantaloni, appals the cynical opportunitist, Piso: but to stay would involve Fabritio in a loveless marriage, while to return to Rome would risk losing his inheritance. Though much information is rapidly imparted to the audience, it is enlivened by being staged as an amicable disagreement (it is indicative of considerable openness and trust between Fabritio and Piso) and by the strongly contrasting characters of the young men: Fabritio, despairing but morally decent; Piso, frank, shrewd, one who values duty to self above any traditional parental claims. They are interrupted by music and the passage over the stage of numerous serenading young gallants severally drawn in one direction, which Piso identifies as the home of a courtesan newly arrived in Venice. Among those passing by both Piso and Fabritio recognise the elderly Pantaloni, seeking with the aid of a dark lantern to hide his identity and reputation from view as he too makes his way to or from the courtesan’s house. An embarrassed Fabritio silences Piso’s comments about aged lechers in general and Pantaloni in particular. Alone again, the young men discuss the Novella, the courtesan who has claimed the right as a virgin, supposedly a custom in Venice, to establish her own fee (in the event an extremely high one) for taking her maidenhead and to await the choice of an ideal suitor for a period of a month. Piso in telling this to Fabritio reveals a marked misogyny, a quality which Brome is to examine in some detail throughout the play. Two new gallants intent on serenading the courtesan, Francisco and Horatio, appear, causing Fabritio and Piso to hide and overhear the newcomers’ conversation about her. In due course Francisco’s identity is revealed to the listeners, who realise he is the man originally pledged to wed with Flavia, a match that like Fabritio’s with Victoria was broken off by her father, Guadagni, who wished to pursue the more lucrative prospects offered by marriage to Pantaloni’s son. All four lovers are at the mercy of the two old fathers. A fight seems imminent, until Fabritio makes clear to Francisco his lack of interest in Flavia; amity prevails; and the four men withdraw to Horatio’s house nearby to plan ways of resolving what they now appreciate to be a shared predicament.
The second scene moves to the interior of Guadagni’s house, where he is found soliloquising in praise of his deep-rooted concern to husband his wealth, which he sees the intended arranged marriage as augmenting substantially, since it involves a union between two established merchants’ households. In a long sequence with his daughter, Flavia, Guadagni rapidly shifts his mood from amiable geniality when he thinks he is getting his way, through tyrannous fury when he supposes that Flavia is challenging his authority, to excessive generosity when his antagonism is proved by her to be misplaced. (On several occasions later in the play Flavia is to be rendered dumbstruck by his outbursts, so this sequence establishes what is a kind of emotional patterning in their relationship.) What emerges from this is an incisive critique of patriarchal power and the ways that, far from encouraging acquiescence, its abusive insistence encourages modes of duplicity and fosters outright subversion in Flavia. Guadagni departs to join with Pantaloni and their lawyers to finalise the marriage documents, instructing his servant, Nanulo, to admit no one and allow no one to depart from his house. Left a virtual prisoner in her own home, Flavia is in despair and fantasizes about suicide till teased by her maid, Astutta, into a calmer frame of mind when she can review her resources. Nanulo appears with the message that Guadagni is allowing Fabritio to send a woman pedlar to the house to bring betrothal gifts of jewels, costly fabrics and the like. Astutta recognises the woman as a well-known go-between; she encourages Flavia to agree to the pedlar’s visit; and privately admits to seeing how now they might build out of these new circumstances a strategy for Flavia’s escape. The two women leave to work out their tactics.
n9441
It is night-time in, we are to suppose, a piazza in Venice. Two young men, Fabritio and Piso, enter in deep disagreement about the former’s conduct: he is planning to flee his home rather than enter an arranged marriage (organised by his father) with a girl, Flavia, for whom he entertains no feelings: he is already pledged to another, Victoria, whom he encountered during his travels in Rome. Fabritio’s continuing respect for his father, Pantaloni, appals the cynical opportunitist, Piso: but to stay would involve Fabritio in a loveless marriage, while to return to Rome would risk losing his inheritance. Though much information is rapidly imparted to the audience, it is enlivened by being staged as an amicable disagreement (it is indicative of considerable openness and trust between Fabritio and Piso) and by the strongly contrasting characters of the young men: Fabritio, despairing but morally decent; Piso, frank, shrewd, one who values duty to self above any traditional parental claims. They are interrupted by music and the passage over the stage of numerous serenading young gallants severally drawn in one direction, which Piso identifies as the home of a courtesan newly arrived in Venice. Among those passing by both Piso and Fabritio recognise the elderly Pantaloni, seeking with the aid of a dark lantern to hide his identity and reputation from view as he too makes his way to or from the courtesan’s house. An embarrassed Fabritio silences Piso’s comments about aged lechers in general and Pantaloni in particular. Alone again, the young men discuss the Novella, the courtesan who has claimed the right as a virgin, supposedly a custom in Venice, to establish her own fee (in the event an extremely high one) for taking her maidenhead and to await the choice of an ideal suitor for a period of a month. Piso in telling this to Fabritio reveals a marked misogyny, a quality which Brome is to examine in some detail throughout the play. Two new gallants intent on serenading the courtesan, Francisco and Horatio, appear, causing Fabritio and Piso to hide and overhear the newcomers’ conversation about her. In due course Francisco’s identity is revealed to the listeners, who realise he is the man originally pledged to wed with Flavia, a match that like Fabritio’s with Victoria was broken off by her father, Guadagni, who wished to pursue the more lucrative prospects offered by marriage to Pantaloni’s son. All four lovers are at the mercy of the two old fathers. A fight seems imminent, until Fabritio makes clear to Francisco his lack of interest in Flavia; amity prevails; and the four men withdraw to Horatio’s house nearby to plan ways of resolving what they now appreciate to be a shared predicament.
The second scene moves to the interior of Guadagni’s house, where he is found soliloquising in praise of his deep-rooted concern to husband his wealth, which he sees the intended arranged marriage as augmenting substantially, since it involves a union between two established merchants’ households. In a long sequence with his daughter, Flavia, Guadagni rapidly shifts his mood from amiable geniality when he thinks he is getting his way, through tyrannous fury when he supposes that Flavia is challenging his authority, to excessive generosity when his antagonism is proved by her to be misplaced. (On several occasions later in the play Flavia is to be rendered dumbstruck by his outbursts, so this sequence establishes what is a kind of emotional patterning in their relationship.) What emerges from this is an incisive critique of patriarchal power and the ways that, far from encouraging acquiescence, its abusive insistence encourages modes of duplicity and fosters outright subversion in Flavia. Guadagni departs to join with Pantaloni and their lawyers to finalise the marriage documents, instructing his servant, Nanulo, to admit no one and allow no one to depart from his house. Left a virtual prisoner in her own home, Flavia is in despair and fantasizes about suicide till teased by her maid, Astutta, into a calmer frame of mind when she can review her resources. Nanulo appears with the message that Guadagni is allowing Fabritio to send a woman pedlar to the house to bring betrothal gifts of jewels, costly fabrics and the like. Astutta recognises the woman as a well-known go-between; she encourages Flavia to agree to the pedlar’s visit; and privately admits to seeing how now they might build out of these new circumstances a strategy for Flavia’s escape. The two women leave to work out their tactics.
1.1
Enter PISO [and] FABRITIO.
3PisoCome, I protest I’ll have you home again
And tell all to your father, if you go not
More cheerfully on about this business.
4FabritioO Piso! Dearest (dearest?) only friend,
That name of father, ’tis, that checks†gg4426
restrain, hold in check, curb, control (OED check v1, 14a)
my blood†gg4427
passion, temper, anger (OED n. 5)
gg4426
gg4427
And strikes a filial reverence through my soul;
Lays load upon my loins, clogging†gg4428
halting (one's steps), as if hampered by fetters or chains (clogs)
my steps;
gg4428
And like an armèd angel warns me back.
That bears his hue–and–cry†gg4429
the pursuit of a felon (by constables or by a mob of people) with a loud outcries, such as "Stop, thief!"
in’s conscience*n6665
Piso is being ironic. He is asking what the point is of setting out with the clear intention of achieving something, if you feel inwardly guilty about doing so.
.
gg4429
n6665
6FabritioIt is not yet daylight: night will conceal
My secret purposes. I will return.
7PisoDo so; and damn thee blacker than the night,
Thee, and thy father too for company.
8FabritioDear Piso, peace.
9PisoPeace, fond Fabritio?
His and thine own to boot†gg915
also
? Will not thy stay†gs955
a stopping behind, halt, delay, postponement
gg915
gs955
Cut off all hope of blessing, if not being
Of your posterity? And all this by obeying
A wilfull father in a lawless marriage,
More fatal (I foresee’t) than e’er our state
Of Venice yet produced example for.
10FabritioO now thou tear’st my very bowels, Piso!
Should I consent (as I dare not deny
My over-hasty father) to this match,
I should submit myself the most perfidious†gg4430
guilty of breaking faith or violating a confidence
gg4430
No, my Victoria: sooner shall this steel*n9425
Much later in the play when Victoria (Fabritio's love) finds the integrity of her passion and commitment to him under threat, she too resorts to a dagger and threatens she will commit suicide rather than lose the virginity she has pledged to Fabritio (see NV 5.1.speeches 705-706[NV 5.1.speeches705-706]).
†gg4432
dagger, sword
n9425
gg4432
Remove thy hindrance from a second choice*n6667
He means that, while he remains living, he prevents Victoria from marrying another. To kill himself would allow her to pursue another relationship. It must be stressed here that a quite different set of values are at work in this situation than are apparent to twenty-first-century sensibilities. What is implicit behind all these speeches, though never explicitly stated because Brome could assume his contemporary audience would understand Fabritio and Victoria's predicament, is the binding power of handfasting, the pledging of troth between lovers, which was tantamount to marriage, regardless of whether or not it was accompanied by a church ceremony. While the English church had done much to try and stamp out the custom and its codes, it still prevailed and, in terms of theatre, was as here in Brome's comedy a very good basis for a dramatic crisis. Victoria's is the same predicament as that faced by both Juliet and Marianna in Shakespeare's Measure for Measure : the first has taken the social power of the handfast to consummate her union with Claudio; the second has been jilted by Angelo in direct opposition to the traditional expectations of a union that has progressed so far. For a first-rate discussion of the intricate social codes surrounding handfasting, see chapter six of Germaine Greer's Shakespeare's Wife (London: Bloomsbury, 2007). In the immediate context of this line, what has to be understood is that in terms of handfasting Victoria would still be considered married to Fabritio and so only his death would allow her to accept the suit of another man. Much of what follows in the dialogue between Fabritio and Piso has to be understood in this context: hence, for example, Piso's reference to "bastards" as the offspring of any union that either lover might pursue outside or instead of their own handfasted state.
n6667
Than I give word or thought but to be thine.
11PisoWhy fly we not to Rome then, where you left her,
And shun the danger of your father’s plot,
Which would not only force you break your faith*n9426
This is the nearest that Brome comes to being explicit about handfasting and its subsequent demands on both partners to that contract. Over the next few speeches (and passim throughout the play) Brome is to work some interesting oppositions between "faith" and "marriage", in which marriage is conceived as a sin (being in the instance of Fabritio's union with Flavia an arranged match made more for the commercial benefit to both their fathers than to either marital partner, each of whom loves elsewhere).
n9426
With chaste Victoria, but to wed another,
Whose faith is given already to another?
Double damnation! ’Twere a way indeed
To make your children bastards o’ both sides*n6668
This is an idea that runs throughout the play: that children are in effect illegitimate, when they are born into a loveless marriage where both parents love (and in this instance are affianced to) another person. Again the sheer force of terms like "bastard" have to be understood in the seventeenth-century context of the codes of handfasted unions.
.
n6668
12FabritioCan there no way be found to shun the danger
Of this so hastily intended marriage,
But by my flight, and the most certain loss
Of mine inheritance?
13PisoThat would be thought on.
14FabritioStay. Who comes here?
Music*n9435
Such a simple direction gives no indication of how this sequence was handled in performance. There would have been musicians available in the Blackfriars Theatre but whether they simply accompanied the flow of gentlemen across the stage playing from within their gallery "above" or whether they themselves joined various groups of the actors to swell the scene onstage, it is impossible to gauge. If spectators are to suppose that the gentlemen are suitors to Victoria serenading her in her house, which is to be imagined as situated just offstage, then that would suggest that isolated instrumentalists were deployed, each accompanying one or more gentleman. For such an arrangement to create a continuous flow of music would require expert timing and a developed ensemble. But then Martin White (Renaissance Drama in Action [London and New York: Routledge, 1998], p.154) quotes Bulstrode Whitelock's opinion (1634) that the orchestra at the Blackfriars was "esteemed the best of common musicians in London", so such a treatment of the scene would not be impossible. How close this episode came to the style of Italian commedia is another unaswerable question; but mime of any kind, particularly if involving a number of individuals as here, works best if there is some sense of a shared "beat" amongst the cast to give the action a tight structure and dynamic. The play is set in Venice and perhaps some reference to Carnival might have been deployed in the look of the scene, when again random groups of seen musicians would be more appropriate than a hidden orchestra. Whatever style is adopted in a modern production, it would be important to establish a mood and rhythm so that a significant change might be effected once Pantaloni arrives, comically endeavouring to remain incognito.
; and divers†gs509
various, sundry
gentlemen pass to and fro with lights.
At last, enter PANTALONI, lighted by NICOLO
with dark-lanterns*n6669
A lantern with a slide or arrangement by which either the light may be concealed or give off a dim, meagre and diffused light over a limited space. Fynes Moryson describes the use of such "close" lanterns in Florence: "...the gentlemen in Companies walked by nights in the streetes, with Rapyers, and close lanthornes, I meane halfe light, halfe darke, carrying the light syde towardes them, to see the way, and the darke syde from them, to be unseene of others" (Shakespeare's Europe, Unpublished Chapters of Fynes Moryson's Itinerary, Being a Survey of the Condition of Europe at the end of the 16th Century, ed. by Charles Hughes [London: Sherrat and Hughes, 1903], p.463).
.
n9435
gs509
At last, enter PANTALONI, lighted by NICOLO
with dark-lanterns*
n6669
15Piso*n9467
The following speech accompanies and in a sense frames the dumbshow that it comments upon, so the actor speaking it must carefully time the development of his dialogue with what occurs on the stage before and about him, particularly so with regard to Piso's first sighting and then recognising the aged Pantaloni.
Some night-walkers*n9460
That is: people walking about the city by night. Repeatedly Brome in the early phases of this opening scene reiterates the idea (by word and then by the use of "lights") that the situation is to be imagined as taking place by night. In the final speeches of this scene reference is made to the near approach of dawn; and in the scene that follows dawn has come and a point is made verbally and through action of snuffiing out a candle. The whole play is to be imagined as occurring within the passage of a single day. Fleay (A Biographical Chronicle of the Engliish Drama, 1559-1642, 2 vols. (London, 1891), I, p.38) argued that this was a topical reference to Fletcher's play of c. 1611, The Night Walker, or The Little Thief, which had been revised by James Shirley for performance by Queen Henrietta Maria's Company. The fact that Shirley's play was not licensed for performance till 11 May, 1633 disproves this claim. Fleay thought that the adjacent usage of "Balls" was a similar topical reference to Shirley's The Ball (licensed 1632), but there is no evidence to support this notion.
, that throw
n9467
n9460
Balls*n6670
Entertainments with dancing. These were often in Venice initiated with a serenade (hence the music) at the mistress's window then evolved into dancing in the street or piazza (if the mistress descended) or within the house (if the lover and his entourage were invited within). In England in the seventeenth century, something was known of carnival time and its traditions of cloaked and masked figures pursuing their amorous activities while protected by the measure of anonymity afforded by wearing masks. English responses alternated between the titillated and the shocked. Interestingly Coryat, Brome's source for details of Venetian life, makes no mention of carnival (though he attended and writes about numerous musical performances, a visit to the theatre for a commedia show and the staged antics and loquacity of mountebanks). Since he was present in the city for only some six weeks, he is likely to have missed an experience of what for many then and now is still the Venetian experience. Fleay in his Biographical Chronicle of the English Drama, 1559-1642, (2 vols. [London: 1891], I, p.38) argued that this was a topical reference to Shirley's play, The Ball, which like The Novella, was also staged in the 1632-1633 season but by Queen Henrietta Maria's Company. Bentley considered the notion unfounded (see G.E. Bentley The Jacobean and Caroline Stage [Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1941], III, p.85).
Fynes Moryson offers a different possible interpretation of the line in observing that courtesans' admirers and patrons would often "in the tyme of Carnovall publickely [...] grace them by flinging egs filled with rosewater at their windowes, where they stand to be seene" (Shakespeare's Europe, Unpublished Chapters of Fynes Moryson's Itinerary, Being a Survey of the Condition of Europe at the end of the 16th Century, ed. by Charles Hughes [London: Sherrat and Hughes, 1903], p.412). The titlepage of Coryat's Crudities contains a number of illustrations, one of which in the bottom righthand corner shows a courtesan throwing eggs at Coryat as he tries to depart in a gondola. (In his account of visiting Margarita Emiliana, Coryat takes meticulous care to suggest that he went there not for licentious reasons but to preach to the woman in the hope of her ending her sinful ways. That she should retaliate by pelting him out of her house in this manner is hardly surprising. Maclehouse's edition of Coryat's Crudities, [Glasgow: University of Glasgow Press, 1905] includes a fine reproduction of the titlepage.)
at their mistresses'*n9427
A noun, such as "homes" or "houses", has to be understood here.
. Well, of*n6831
] Mistresses, well of
all cities
n6670
Fynes Moryson offers a different possible interpretation of the line in observing that courtesans' admirers and patrons would often "in the tyme of Carnovall publickely [...] grace them by flinging egs filled with rosewater at their windowes, where they stand to be seene" (Shakespeare's Europe, Unpublished Chapters of Fynes Moryson's Itinerary, Being a Survey of the Condition of Europe at the end of the 16th Century, ed. by Charles Hughes [London: Sherrat and Hughes, 1903], p.412). The titlepage of Coryat's Crudities contains a number of illustrations, one of which in the bottom righthand corner shows a courtesan throwing eggs at Coryat as he tries to depart in a gondola. (In his account of visiting Margarita Emiliana, Coryat takes meticulous care to suggest that he went there not for licentious reasons but to preach to the woman in the hope of her ending her sinful ways. That she should retaliate by pelting him out of her house in this manner is hardly surprising. Maclehouse's edition of Coryat's Crudities, [Glasgow: University of Glasgow Press, 1905] includes a fine reproduction of the titlepage.)
n9427
n6831
Under the universal reign of venery†gs957
sexuality, lust (but the reference here hints at the astrological influence of the planet, Venus, named after the Roman goddess of love and sex)
,
gs957
The subjects pass by and salute†gg4434
greet, hail, pay one's respects, honour (often with elaborate compliment, gesture or bow)
each other!
gg4434
Stay. What grave beast, what reverend gib is that*n6671
The terms here are delightfully ambiguous. "Grave" can mean both sombre, serious; but also marked for the grave, ancient. The combination with "beast" creates a mixed image of a lusty senior (or dirty old man), which the phrase "reverend gib" amplifies. "Reverend" implies one who is old and so deserving of reverence, but "gib" is a fond term for a pet cat, usually applied to a tom-cat (though in some usages in the seventeenth century a castrated tom was so defined).
n6671
(I’th’ name of darkness!) dropped out of a gutter?
O age, what art thou come to!
16FabritioPray forbear†gs524
stop (this behaviour), desist
.*n9428
Fabritio has clearly recognised his father the moment he appears and now tries to hush Piso's outburst.
gs524
n9428
17PisoLook there, Fabritio. Venus*n6672
Venus was the Roman goddess of love, sex, lust and desire.
! Can it be?
n6672
18FabritioCome, you’re deceived.
19PisoNay, now I know I am not,
For by that little loving glimpse of light*n6673
This is a precise description of the quality of light spilling out from a dark-lantern.
n6673
That leads him on, Fabritio, ’tis thy father.
20FabritioI pray thee, peace.
21PisoWhat will this city come to?
A young man shall not shortly venture to
A vaulting school*n6675
A riding academy is the superficial meaning here. But "vaulting" with its connotations of leaping onto a horse's back or into the saddle has obvious sexual resonances, so that a "vaulting school" may be interpreted as a brothel, where in this instance young and old vie for the attentions of the inmates. "Vaulting-house", according to the OED (vbl.n2, 4) had been used to reference a brothel from the 1590s and "vaulting-school" (OED vbl.n2, 5) similarly from c.1606. It recurs in drama of the 1630s: when Silius, for example, in Nathaniel Richards's Messallina (c.1635) attacks the whores in Rome, he accuses them of inhabiting "the divels vaulting-school" (l.438).
for fear he jump in the
n6675
Same saddle with his father to the danger
Of his old bones.*n6832
The 1653 text gives this as an incomplete half-line and, after the following stage direction marking Francisco and Horatio's entrance, creates a new verse line for what is the continuation of Piso's speech: "Stay, here comes more. This is..." Metrically the two half lines taken together create a single verse line and so they have been set out as such in this edition.
n6832
Enter FRANCISCO and HORATIO.
Stay, here comes more. This is
Some special haunt! Sure, ’tis the habitation
Of the Novella, lately come to town,
Which draws the admiration of all
The rampant†gg4435
lustful (but often with connotations of vicious)
gallantry*n6676
Here the word is used with irony or with a degree of opprobrium to mean men who fancy themselves to be gallants, showy exhibitionists when courting women.
about the city!
gg4435
n6676
22FabritioThey say she’s yet a virgin.
23PisoAnd is like
So to continue till she prove stale fish*n6677
A fish was often used as a pejorative term for a whore; and an ageing prostitute was commonly referred to as "stale fish" (a fish that has lost its savour, lively eye and firm flesh).
,
n6677
At the rate she’s stamped for*n6678
Several meanings underlie this usage. The basic meaning is obviously "priced at"; but "stamped" can carry the meaning "printed" so the phrase here would signify "advertised" about Venice (though the OED does not record a usage in this way after 1624). Other meanings relevant in the context are "to give authority to by giving a mark of approval" (and, as we learn later in the play, Victoria is calling on the authority of a precise ruling in Venice in calling herself a Novella). This last usage often also carried with it the sense of "assigning a distinct quality to". That these last usages were generally deployed in material or mercantile contexts is fitting, given the pejorative cast of most of Piso's comments about both Victoria and women generally, until finally he learns a new language as the fifth act evolves.
: for she has set
n6678
Such a large price upon her new nothing*n6679
This is the tone of the jaded man about town who has seen it all before, which is a neat piece of characterisation on Brome's part: Piso thinks he can easily place Victoria as just another courtesan in Venice (there have been far too many predecessors for him to get excited about the new girl). Experience of her will steadily prove him wrong.
,
n6679
That venery†gs957
sexuality, lust (but the reference here hints at the astrological influence of the planet, Venus, named after the Roman goddess of love and sex)
and prodigality†gg4437
wasteful and reckless extravagance
are at odds†gg4438
in conflict, at variance
gs957
gg4437
gg4438
About her. It seems thy father could not bargain.
24FabritioFie! ’Twas not he.
25PisoNot he! Peace, and stand close.*n9429
At this moment Brome sets up a typical metatheatrical strategy, which he will repeat and make increasingly complex as the comedy evolves. He takes two characters to the margins of the playing space ("stand close"), where they observe and comment on two more, who are in earnest discussion. Effectively, he creates a small play-within-the-play so that the theatre audience respond to the proceedings through the framing commentary of the onstage spectators. In the process he creates too a divided focus of interest for his theatre audience, as they shift their attention between two groups of speakers. What both audiences quickly learn is that Francisco is Fabritio's rival and a tense conflict might ensue, except that Brome has other objectives in mind for his plot-line.
n9429
27HoratioRare? Above excellent, man! It is impossible*n6833
] unpossible (OED cites this usage as common up to 1660 but present only in dialect thereafter)
n6833
In aiming to augment her beauty: for
I saw her that can judge.
28PisoNow if a man
In Venice, let him follow these dogs. Sure,
She is earthed†gs962
hiding within its burrow or den
hereabouts. They have the scent*n6680
Piso's speech here plays with the punning resonances of the term, venery, which can mean both the sport of hunting and the pursuit of sexual pleasure.
.
gs962
n6680
29FranciscoYou have not seen her often?
30HoratioOnly thrice
At church*n6685
This is a neatly ambiguous statement. By the end of the play when we have come to learn Victoria's moral nature, we know that attending mass is for her a highly likely occupation. It was, however, a social fact about Venice in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries that church was a good situation in which a courtesan might advertise herself. Most citizens would attend a church regularly and particularly on Sundays, and courtesans would be conspicuous presences there, given their dress and elaborate ways of offsetting their beauty. During the period of the sermon given at certain masses, they would provide a particular focus of attention for the wandering male gaze. Gazing might well then lead to the making of assignations via a courtesan's servant or bravo.
: that’s once for every day that she
n6685
Has beautified this city.
31PisoWhat rare†gs965
exceptional, unusual, remarkable, excellent (but here used with profound irony)
help
gs965
May this be to devotion, that he speaks of!
32FranciscoAnd all this beauty and this seeming virtue
Offered to sale?
33PisoI thought ’twas such a piece†gg508
a woman, usually with the connotation of being a sexual object (OED II 9b)
.
gg508
Mark but the price she’s cried at†gg4450
proclaimed, advertised, offered for sale (OED cry v, 5a and 5b)
: two thousand ducats
gg4450
For her maidenhead, and one month’s society†gg4451
exclusive access, association, relationship, sexual union
.
gg4451
35PisoWhat a way, now, would that money reach
In buttock-beef*n6686
A pejorative term for a prostitute. Piso means that for the money required to purchase the Novella's maidenhead a man could acquire access to endless common whores. OED lists a similar usage in Brome's The Queen's Exchange: "I would I had but this fellow's weight in buttock beef" [QE 2.3.speech351].
!
n6686
36HoratioShe is indeed for beauty,
Person and price, fit only for a prince:
I cannot think a less man than the Duke*n9644
That is: the Doge, the most senior member of the Venetian governing system. Unusually amongst the Italian states, the office was held by election not by inheritance or force of arms. It was the only Venetian office of state that was held for life.
n9644
Himself must bear†gs966
maintain, support, sustain (the cost or responsibility of); but there is also resonant in this usage the sense of "bearing the weight of (a woman)" during sex
her; and indeed ’twere pity
gs966
That she should sin at less advantage*n6687
This is part of the male characters' double thinking in the play. Horatio sees it as a "sin" if Victoria loses her maidenhead and honour. Given the price set on its loss, he argues that such a "sin" in her case deserves no less a taker of her chastity than the doge (duke) himself.
.
n6687
37FranciscoWhy do we then make way to visit her
38PisoA wary whore-master! I like him well:
A pennyworth for a penny would be looked for.
39HoratioWhy, Francisco? Why?
40PisoFrancisco! Is it he?
41HoratioAlthough her price be such to be sold for
To give herself for love, if she be pleased.
Who knows how well she may affect a man
(As here and there a woman may by chance)
Only for virtue? That’s worth our adventure*n6688
He means that, given the fact that a courtesan may well give herself to a first lover purely for affection (and not ready money), then it is worth their while to chance gaining access to Victoria in this hope, since they cannot afford the required fee. They will rely on their sheer bravado and gallantry. Horatio and Piso will make such an attempt in Act Three.
.
n6688
But I wish rather we could purchase her
At the set price betwixt us for a twelvemonth.
At one another’s good turns*n6689
There is a neat pun here: the men will share Victoria's favours ("turn" here meaning sexual union as in "the best turn in the bed"), while taking turns in being with her.
.
n6689
What whelps†gg4454
ill-conditioned or low fellows; saucy or impertinent young louts; ‘unlicked cubs’, ‘puppies’ (OED n1. 3b)
are these? Sure, this Francisco is
gg4454
The late–forsaken lover, betrothed to Flavia,
Whom now thy father would so violently
Force thee to marry.
43FabritioWould*n9461
That is: would that (he had her); if only.....
he had her, Piso.
n9461
44PisoO, here they pitch†gg4455
place, situate, establish (themselves)
. Stand close†gs967
two senses are apt here: nearby (close to) and also covert, hidden (closed to view)
, we’ll hear their music.
gg4455
gs967
Song.*n9436
No lyric is suggested by Brome and no song is inserted after the epilogue as is sometimes the case with printed texts of Caroline plays. While the text of Horatio's composed lyric in 3.1 is first read aloud before being sung and so is printed in full in the 1653 volume, this is not the case with the other incidental songs used in the course of the play.
n9436
45HoratioCome, sad Francisco, we’ll tomorrow see
This miracle of nature, whose mere sight
Will wipe away the injury thou suffered’st
46Piso’Tis he, and I will speak to him.
48PisoFrancisco must not so forget his Flavia.
49HoratioWhat are you?
50PisoMen that would have you be so,
And not to wanton out your holy vows*n6692
Piso's next speech (52) offers an apt precis of these words.
[He] draws [his sword.]
n6692
Dancing yourselves to th’devil.
51FranciscoWhat do you mean?
52PisoI mean, Francisco, you too much forget
The love you bore to Flavia, she to you.
53HoratioShe has forsaken him, and is bestowed
(Forced by the torrent of her father’s will*n6693
"Will" here means not only desire but also intent, ambition, which is seen as overbearing all opposition and so is likened to a "torrent".
)
n6693
54PisoHere stands the man denies it. Speak, Fabritio.
55FabritioNot that I undervalue Flavia’s worth,
Of mine, were all this signory†gg4458
a governing body, especially deployed with reference to that of Venice or other mediæval Italian republics (derived from the Italian, signoria (OED 4).
her dowry†gg2208
as used here, dowry means the same as ‘jointure’: a piece of a husband’s estate left to the wife to sustain her during her widowhood (OED dowry n, 1; and dower n2, 1); ‘dowry’ can also mean a present or gift given by the husband to the wife (OED n. 3)
.
gg4458
gg2208
56FranciscoI must embrace you, sir.
57HoratioAnd gentlemen,
My lodging is not far. Please you*n9462
That is: would it please you to (retire); would you care to...?
retire
n9462
And there repose yourselves, until the light
That now is near at hand shall point you forth
A way to future comfort*n6839
] comfort;
.*n6697
There is the primary meaning of "ease" in this context but it shades into the sense of "future bliss", "sexual union" and "a happy ending".
You shall find
n6839
n6697
Good wine and welcome. Please you to accept it.
If we may rest securely*n6702
There is a spectrum of meanings in this usage: safely, free from care, threat or anxiety, undiscovered.
for a day,
n6702
Lurk†gg4460
hide, live concealed, be secret, furtive
close†gs500
hidden (OED a and adv, 4a)
and private till the appointed hour
gg4460
gs500
In case that our necessity may require it?
59HoratioI understand you. Take mine honour of it*n6707
That is: I give my word of honour (as pledge for what you ask and for your safety).
.
n6707
60PisoBe cheered, Fabritio, thou shalt not to Rome:
Now night we thank, and follow thee away
(As being thy servants)*n6709
Piso imagines the group of men as being like a lord's entourage who must shadow his every movement; and so they hide away with the night from daylight which might expose them and their plotting, if their identities and whereabouts became known.
from th’ approaching day*n6841
] approach day (Some emendation is necessary here as the 1653 text does not make sense as it stands and is metrically short-changed. Two possible readings might be offered: "approaching day", as given; or "approach of day". The former reading is preferred here, since in Horatio's earlier speech (57) there is a description of "the light /That now is near at hand", while in the ensuing scene Guadagni ends his short soliloquy by snuffing his taper to denote that daylight has fully arrived.)
.
n6709
n6841
61HoratioYou conclude well: lovers and spirits*n6842
] sprights (This is the 1653 reading, which is defendable. The metrics of the line, however, are in consequence somewhat infelicitous. "Spirits" gives a more musical rendering to the line and to modern ears more readily conjures up images of ghosts, which is clearly the relevant meaning here, than imps and elves which are what "sprites" or "sprights" imply, though they are in folklore seen as "night-walkers" too.)
†gg4463
spirits, ghosts, fairies, imps or elves
are
n6842
gg4463
Night-walkers, warned away by th’ morning star*n6714
Renaissance drama abounds in instances where supernatural visitations or manifestations vanish with the approach of daylight. Hamlet's father's ghost departs with the crowing of a cock or when "the glow-worm shows the matins to be near", while Oberon and Titania's retinue must leave with "the break of day". Invocations to the morning star were often the signal that one of Jonson's masques was nearing its end. The "morning star" was in fact the planet Venus, which is visible in the east immediately before sunrise. Such a reference to Venus is wholly appropriate in a comedy about the trials and tribulations of lovers.
.[They] ex[it]
n6714
1.2
Enter GUADAGNI in his study. A taper, bags, books, etc.*n6722
This direction may indicate the use of a discovery space, set out as described with Guadagni seated within it. Brome, however, throughout his career often created a specific environment for a scene by having a table carried in already covered with a number of items to indicate the kind of room in which the scene was set (see, for example, the opening of 5.2 in The Antipodes [AN 5.2.speech983]). If one consults in Dessen and Thomson's A Dictionary of Stage Directions, 1580-1642 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1999) under "study" (pp.220-221), one quickly appreciates that this direction is so common in its features as to have almost iconic status: bags and books indicate more a workroom or counting house than a study, while the taper indicates a night-time setting. Similar features can be found listed in the Dictionary in directions for Satiromastix, Two Merry Milkmaids, Thomas Lord Cromwell etc..
n6722
62GuadagniWhilst yet the leaden-fingered god of sleep*n6723
Hypnos (in Roman mythology, Somnus) was the god of sleep whose twin was Thanatos (death); his three sons, Morpheus, Phobetor and Phantasos, were controllers of human dreaming. The deepest level of sleep is often described as "leaden" and the gods bringing sleep or death are often figured as touching the eyes of humans till they succumb to either state.
n6723
Keeps close†gs1012
closed, shut (OED a and adv, 1a)
the eyelids of fantastic*n6724
This is an interesting juxtaposition with the "god of sleep" in the previous line and the "airy fancies" and "light dreams" of the following one. Phantasos, the third son of the god of sleep, induced fantastic dreams in humans, according to Greek mythological thinking and the adjective derives from his name.
†gs969
here used in the sense of "prone to fantasy"
youth,
gs1012
n6724
gs969
Feeding their airy fancies with light dreams*n6725
One recalls here Mercutio's account of the kinds of dreams induced in love-sick youths by Queen Mab (Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet 1.4.55ff). His lengthy peroration concludes: "I talk of dreams, /Which are the children of an idle brain, /Begot of nothing but vain fantasy, /Which is as thin of substance as the air, /And more inconstant than the wind..." (1.4.96-100). There is also Theseus' account of the madness that overtakes the lunatic, the lover and the poet (A Midsummer Night's Dream 5.1.16-17) with its particular reference to the poet's pen as giving to "airy nothing /A local habitation and a name".
n6725
Of wanton pleasures, giddy, vain delights,
The ever-watchful†gg4469
vigilant, sleepless, continually on the watch, wakeful
cares of aged parents
gg4469
Throw ope’ the gates and windows of soft rest*n6726
A fanciful depiction of the eyes and other senses that are normally dulled in sleep.
,
n6726
Making our midnight noon, to guard and order
The wholesome fruits of our continual labour.
Wholesome and happy off-springs*n6727
Guadagni's thoughts are more for his bags of gold that will buy him status than for the daughter, Flavia, he is about to sacrifice to his ambitions. His salutation to his gold has echoes of the hymn to his wealth that Ben Jonson gives to Volpone at the start of his comedy (1606), which is also set in Venice. As Dr. Eleanor Lowe reminded me: the situation of a father more concerned for his money than his daughter is not only akin to that of Shylock and Jessica in Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice (staged c.1597-8), but also that of Jaques de Prie and his daughter, Rachel, in Ben Jonson's early success, The Case Is Altered (acted c.1598).
of my pains
n6727
And thus, that you may rest, grow and increase,
Mine eyes prevent†gg4462
hinder, thwart, forestall, frustrate (OED v. II 8)
the breakers†gg4470
disturbers, disrupters
of your peace.
gg4462
gg4470
But see the morning hastens to relieve†gs971
offer release, free from an obligation (derived from the sense of being relieved from one's guard-duty, which is applicable here)
me!
gs971
Enter NANULO [and] ASTUTTA.
63NanuloYour servants are all here and ready, sir.
64GuadagniAbout†gs972
bestir (yourselves); get a move on
, about, you drowsy-headed drones†gg4474
non-workers, lazy idlers, sluggards (derived from "drone" as the male of the honey-bee, a non-worker in the hive)
.
gs972
gg4474
Where is my daughter?
65AstuttaUp and ready too, sir.
67NanuloThe rich magnifico†gg4475
a great or noble person (generally deployed as an honorary title for any of the magnates of Venice who held high office)
?
gg4475
68GuadagniWho else, you rat†gg4476
(you) contemptible individual, (you) rag, (you) scrap (perhaps here used as a pejorative reference to Nanulo's dwarf-like stature)
?
gg4476
69NanuloIt shall be done, sir, please you give me passage.
70Guadagni [To ASTUTTA] Here, take the keys, lock the door after him,
Then call my daughter to me.
[Enter FLAVIA]
71AstuttaSee, she’s here, sir.NANULO [and] ASTUTTA exit
72GuadagniFlavia, my girl, see how my early care
Provides for thee. The toil of many years
By daily travail†gs973
effort, exertion
and my nightly watches†gg4478
vigilance, staying on guard, attentiveness
gs973
gg4478
Lies here in readiness to build thy fortune.
And take it willingly, since thou consent’st
To match†gg1250
(v) marry
unto my will†gs491
here used specifically in the sense of intent and inclination
, whereby this coin*n9430
Guadagni's priorities are all too clear: "coin" is far dearer to him than his daughter.
,
gg1250
gs491
n9430
Thyself and both our joys may find increase*n9431
Perversely Guadagni couples his delight in a good business transaction that promises to augment his wealth with Flavia's sexual satisfactions leading to her pregnancy ("increase").
.
n9431
I can no less than thank thee, Flavia,
Although, I must confess, my suit was long
For whom (with no small joy I speak’t) thou didst
Cast off (indeed) the offscum†gg4480
that which is skimmed off, scum or dross; that which is rejected as vile or worthless, a contemptible person, scum
of his blood†gs974
family line, lineage
,
gg4480
gs974
The poor, degenerate†gg4481
a person of debased breeding, one who has fallen on hard times
in fortune, fellow―――*n9269
] fellow, (The 1653 text runs the sentence on, but the punctuation must attempt to take account of the fact that Guadagni cannot bring himself to voice the word, Francisco; and throughout the previous line and a half has been vainly trying to avoid saying his name by using all manner of epithets, such is his disgust at the very idea of a man without money wanting to marry Flavia. This edition has endeavoured by careful choice of punctuation to capture the drama of the moment.)
gg4481
n9269
I scorn to name him.
73Flavia [Aside]*n9432
There is no such direction in the 1653 text; but, given how rapidly and angrily Guadagni picks up later intimations that Flavia is anything but happy with the arranged marriage (see [NV 1.2.speech78] onwards), then by no means should Guadagni overhear this sighed utterance of her lover's name (the very name he cannot bring himself to utter).
Alas, my Francisco!―――
n9432
In all this wealthy city.
75FlaviaSir, ’tis not
(Both which are equal blessings unto me)*n6844
] Both which are equal blessings unto me (The lack of punctuation in the 1653 text leads to a degree of grammatical confusion unless an actor point the speech particularly well. The brackets around what is an inserted clause make for greater clarity and are designed to assist the actor shape the meaning more precisely.)
n6844
Can add unto my present happiness
More than the thought of your paternal wisdom,
76GuadagniIt will be so: I find it, my dear child,
For though thy joy I know will be abundant,
Mine must exceed that includes thine with it.
Why smil’st thou, Flavia? To think how near*n6845
] deare (The topic of the ensuing dialogue between father and daughter is continually referring to the temporal proximity of the intended wedding. Hence this emendation, especially given how close the usage is here to the word, "tomorrow". The 1653 reading of "dear", whether used in the sense of "heartfelt, affectionate" or as meaning "costly", does not seem appropriate for the context, though that reading might be allowed, if "dear" were taken to mean "glorious" or "noble", implying that Flavia is smiling to imagine how grand an occasion the wedding will be.)
n6845
77FlaviaNo, I could weep for that.
78GuadagniHow! Ha! What’s that?
This money’s mine again and thou art not,
Degenerate†gg4481
a person of debased breeding, one who has fallen on hard times
brat! Changeling†gg4485
a fickle or inconstant person; a waverer, turncoat
!*n6846
] Degenerate brat, changeling
―――
gg4481
gg4485
n6846
79FlaviaDear Father!――Father!――
80GuadagniThou’st seen thy last of happiness: all content,
81FlaviaSir, I beseech you hear me―――
Into what endless misery I’ll cast thee;
To call thee back from torment.
83FlaviaSir――dear sir―――
85FlaviaIndeed you will be sorry.
86GuadagniSorry! For what?
88GuadagniDidst thou not say thou wept’st, because tomorrow
Was come so nigh?*n6849
The 1653 text prints this as prose: "Didst thou not say thou wept'st, because to mor- /row was come so nigh?" The confusion may have arisen as a consequence of the way that "to morrow" spills over into the following line of printed matter. "Was come so nigh?" makes a complete, if divided, verse line when taken with Flavia's response: "So nigh and yet not come, sir". Hence the emendation turning prose into verse in the current text.
n6849
Fearing how many dangerous†gs978
hazardous, risky, unsafe
hours are thither†gs1670
up to that time; until then; between now and then (OED 3a)
.
gs978
gs1670
90GuadagniHa! I begin to be now sorry indeed.
91FlaviaLove’s minutes, sir, are days, and hours are years
92GuadagniNow I am sorry with all my heart; and here’s a
Thousand chequins†gg4488
gold coins, a currency in Italy and Turkey (each was valued by Hakluyt c.1599 as the equivalent then of "seven shillings and two pence sterling" (OED), which in today's currency would equal roughly £36
to expiate†gg4793
make amends or reparation for
my trespass†gg319
(n) offence (OED n. 1); minor violation of the law (OED n. 2); crime
.
gg4488
gg4793
gg319
But do not let thy husband know of them*n6740
Traditionally in most European countries in the seventeenth century, all a wife's possessions became on marriage the property of the husband, except for the dowry. Guadagni is here encouraging his daughter in subterfuge, by advising her to keep a secret store of money that she is to offer to her future husband only if she commits some fault and requires to buy his good opinion again.
n6740
Till he redeem a fault to their full value.
Oh, mine own girl! My honey†gg4489
a term of endearment: sweetheart, darling (OED n. 5a)
, honey girl!
gg4489
93FlaviaWas not I, sir, applauding of your wisdom,
And giving you the glory of my comfort
In this approvèd†gs979
commended (but also in this instance with the meanings, sanctioned, agreed, contracted)
match?
gs979
94GuadagniThou didst, thou didst,
With tears of joy I must confess, thou didst.
96GuadagniSpeak yet, and I will hear attentively.
97FlaviaFirst then, how first your admirable wisdom,
Weighing how I had settled my affection
Of noble blood, however low in fortune,
You gave your free consent (knowing your estate†gs1671
property, possessions, fortune, capital (OED n. 12a)
gs1671
To be a portion†gg1143
dowry (monies, goods or lands brought by the wife to augment her husband’s estate on their marriage)
fitter†gg5956
better suited, more appropriately used
to restore him
gg1143
gg5956
Unto the dignity of his ancestors,
Than to be added to another’s muckhill†gg4492
heap of refuse, dung, filth
*n6741
Flavia subtly offers a disparaging reference to hoarded wealth, thereby criticising the future husband and father-in-law that Guadagni has chosen for her.
)
gg4492
n6741
That I should be his wife――――
98GuadagniWhat’s this you say?
100GuadagniWell, on then, on.
101FlaviaI say you gave consent that I should be
Wife to that noble gentleman (pray sit still*n9463
The words are capable of two slightly different meanings. Guadagni is seated when spectators first see him at the start of the scene and it may be at this point that he rises in anger from the table that is serving as his desk. Or it may be that the actor would prefer to squirm in his seat with both anger and discomfort at what his daughter is saying.
, sir)
n9463
As you had foreseen my future happiness
Only in him consisted――― sir, until
This wealthy heir, young Fabritio,
Your neighbour tradesman’s son*n6742
This is another subtle hit at Guadagni's want of insight and taste. Flavia might have used the more flattering word, "merchant" (with its connotations in the Venetian context of shipping, trading overseas, the source of much Venetian wealth and international culture) but instead she deploys the more mercenary term, tradesman, for Pantaloni and Fabritio, which with the earlier use of "muckhill" conjures up an image of father and son as money-grubbing artisans or usurers.
, of great estate,
n6742
Was by his father tendered†gg4494
offered for approval and acceptance (but with a suggestion of contractual obligation)
unto you
gg4494
For me a husband, then unseen by me:
But since, I must confess, a *n6852
] since I must confesse a
proper†gs148
handsome, distinctive, really masculine (the modern equivalent would be 'sexy')
man,
n6852
gs148
Worthy a fitter wife―――
102GuadagniSweet modesty!*n9434
] Modesty.
n9434
103FlaviaBut that your wisdom needs will have it so,
By reason that his heaps*n6743
Flavia picks up and develops her earlier disparaging reference to Pantaloni's accumulated wealth as his "muckhill".
may purchase honour,
n6743
Which tother’s*n6853
] to'thers
wants†gg4808
needs (OED v. 4a)
can never wash away.*n6854
] away, (Given the abrupt dismissal of Francisco envisaged here, a full stop marks a more definite end to the relationship than the comma deployed in the 1653 text.)
*n6744
Flavia hints that Fabritio's "honour" is so innate and fundamental a part of his nature that, however impoverished he may become, it cannot be suppressed, compromised or lost.
n6853
gg4808
n6854
n6744
But farewell him: I must look this way now;
That, whereas I betrothed was to Francisco
You force me on this man, the fittest husband
104GuadagniAnd is’t not a sound policy, my Flavia?A bell rings
But now no more: old Pantaloni comes,
I take it. Enter NANULO*n9464
This direction is placed in the 1653 text after the end of Guadagni's speech, but clearly Nanulo's arrival must anticipate the change of direction in Guadagni's thinking that is signified by his sudden exclamation.
How now! Does he not come?
n9464
105NanuloSignor Pantaloni, sir, entreats you
Meet him on the Rialto*n6745
An exchange or mart. The OED cites Coryat's Crudities ([Glasgow: James MacLehose for Glasgow University Press, 1905], Vol. 1, p. 312), which gives a very exact description: "The Rialto which is at the farther end of the bridge as you come from St. Marks, is a most stately building, being the Exchange of Venice". It was the place where Venetian merchants did their business twice a day. Coryat describes the Rialto as "of goodly heigth, built all with bricke as the Palaces are, adorned with many faire walkes or open galleries [...] and [it] hath a prety quadrangular court adjoyning to it " (Ibid). He thought the building inferior to London's Exchange "though, indeede there is a farre greater quantity of building in this then in ours" (Ibid).
instantly,
n6745
106GuadagniIt is, my Flavia, interchangeably†gg4497
mutually, reciprocally, in turn, one after the other
gg4497
To seal your marriage covenants†gg4498
contracts
. Make*n6857
] covenants; make thee happy, (There is an abrupt shift in Guadagni's speech, as he turns from mention of the occasion of his leaving to instruct his daughter to stay within the house and guard his "havings"; and some break needs to be made grammatically to mark that shift of intention. It would be feasible to leave the semi-colon after "covenants" as in the 1653 text, but then a full stop would be required after "happy". The inference of the speech with such a reading is that the "covenants" would be the source of Flavia's future happiness. However, it would seem equally feasible to mark the turn in Guadagni's thinking with "covenants", after which he instructs Flavia to enjoy her own company and thoughts before advising her to guard his property in his absence. This is the preferred reading here.
thee happy,
gg4498
n6857
Look to†gg3994
look after
my house and havings†gg4499
that which one has or possesses: one's possessions, property, wealth, belongings (OED vbl. n, 2)
, keep all safe.*n6858
] havings; keepe all safe, (Again there is an abrupt shift of subject after "safe", as Guadagni informs Flavia how long he supposes he will be absent; and so a stronger pause than is provided by a comma would seem to be required here. Hence the emendation.)
*n9270
There is a distinct echo here of Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice when Shylock bids his daughter, Jessica, farewell on the night that he is invited to feast with Bassanio (2.5). He too is anxious for the safety of his house and three times warns Jessica to watch over it carefully in his absence: "Jessica, my girl, /Look to my house..." (ll.15-16); "Hear you me, Jessica, /Lock up my doors..." (ll.28-29); and "Do as I bid you. Shut doors after you. /Fast bind, fast find --- /A proverb never stale in thrifty mind" (ll.52-54). This is the first of many inter-textual references to Shakespeare's play, which establish a kind of dialogue between the comedies for the informed spectator.
gg3994
gg4499
n6858
n9270
I shall be absent most part of this day.
Be careful, girl: thine own special good
Requires thee to’t; and therefore I dare trust thee.
107FlaviaHappy success attend you, sir, whilst I
Rest here in prayers for you.
108GuadagniThanks, my child.
[To NANULO] Come, sirrah, lock the door. But first (d’ye hear)
Beware that none have entrance in my absence
Except Fabritio, Pantaloni’s son;
109NanuloWith due respect.
110GuadagniCome lock the door, I say.[GUADAGNI] exits [with NANULO].
111FlaviaAy, Ay, *n6859
] I. I, ("I" is regularly deployed in texts of the period in place of the "ay" that indicates assent, as is required by the context here.)
be sure of that; and I could wish
n6859
My thoughts were prisoners too*n6746
Flavia is aware that her thoughts have a freedom to roam where they will but always they bring her nothing but sadness, given her current plight. She wonders whether it would make matters easier for her, if her thoughts were as imprisoned within the house as is her body.
: that they might fly
n6746
Where they (loose†gg740
free from moral restraint, wanton (OED adj. 7)
things) get out, and nothing bring
gg740
O, my Astutta!――――
Enter ASTUTTA.
112AstuttaNow or never help me!*n6747
Astutta hears the end of Flavia's speech as she enters and from that and the tone of Flavia's "O, my Astutta!" guesses that her charge is going to beg her aid. Throughout the play Astutta shows a wickedly satirical streak in her nature, as if she wishes continually to deflate the emotionalism of both her master and his daughter. An actress might make a great deal of this running character-trait.
n6747
113FlaviaAs thou didst ever dream what true love was,
Or else contrive this hour to be my last.
114AstuttaWhat! Would you disobey your father? What!
So good, so careful, and so wise a parent?
115FlaviaO, do not vex†gs982
torment; but also with the suggestion of urging (that which is painful to undertake) or teasing (OED v. II 6c and I 4c)
me into longer life!
gs982
Either speak help, or let me die in silence.
116AstuttaYes, at sixteen! You would die at sixteen?
117FlaviaElse let thy pity of my youth preserve me.
118AstuttaO Cupid*n6748
In Roman Mythology, the god of love, son of Mercury and Venus, identified with the Greek Eros.
! What a termagant†gg4504
boistrous, overbearing, bullying
tyrant art thou
n6748
gg4504
Over poor subjects of sixteen! There is not one
Among a hundred of those ticklish trifles*n6749
Astutta is being ironically scathing again, referring to Flavia as being like all sixteen-year-olds: giggling triflers (silly chits of girls).
n6749
But is more taken with a toy at sixteen
Than six-and-twenty, because by that time
The edges of most maidenheads are allayed†gg4505
tempered, modified (with the intimation of sexually experienced)
.
gg4505
119FlaviaNay, dear Astutta, hast thou thought a course*n6750
That is: a course of action, a plan or plot.
?
n6750
120AstuttaWhat, to *n9271
] what to
prevent†gg4462
hinder, thwart, forestall, frustrate (OED v. II 8)
your father, my good master?
n9271
gg4462
Think you I can turn traitor to his trust
And cross†gg2445
(v) thwart, forestall; contradict; afflict, go against
his purpose for your marriage?
gg2445
121FlaviaIf knife or poison, fire or water may
122AstuttaYes, you were best leap from the top o’th’ house
Into the Canal*n6860
] Cavail (The context clearly indicates that an emendation is necessary here, and OED lists no word akin to "cavail". However, Coryat frequently in his Crudities [Glasgow: James MacLehose for Glasgow University Press, 1905] refers to the "Canal il grande", as, for example, on pp. 310 and 313. It may be that Brome, a scribe or the compositor misread or compressed that phrase to produce the 1653 reading.)
Grande*n6751
The reference is to Venice's Grand Canal; but the Italianate pronunciation would seem necessary for the rhythm of the line.
: and there perhaps
n6860
n6751
Some courteous gondolier†gg4506
one who rows a gondola about the canals of Venice, steering with a single oar from the rear of the boat
*n6752
This is somewhat ironic. Gondolas were generally believed in the popular imagination to be the means of pursuing illicit sexual liaisons and Coryat in his Crudities (1611) describes gondoliers as "seducing and tempting" and warns English visitors especially to avoid the gondoliers that trade around the Rialto as being "vicious and licentious". (See Coryat's Crudities, 2 vols. [Glasgow: James MacLehose for Glasgow University Press, 1905], Vol. 1, p.311.)
may catch you up
gg4506
n6752
And waft†gs984
to convey safely by water (OED v. 2)
you to some house of dear delight*n6753
This may refer to the home of her lover, Francesco, or, more ironically, to a brothel.
.
gs984
n6753
123FlaviaThou tortur’st me.
124AstuttaYou see the door is shut,
And Go-by-ground*n6754
The resonances to this abusive nick-name are many: the reference may be to Nanulo as a kind of devil and so he is likened to the snake which after the Fall from the Garden of Eden was made by God to go upon its belly on the ground; or it may be a cruel reflection on Nanulo's want of size as a dwarf.
, your father’s giant*n6755
An ironic reflection on Nanulo's size as a dwarf. Astutta may be trying to joke Flavia out of her fears by making their enemy appear laughably puny and not worth worrying about.
here,
n6754
n6755
More stern than Cerberus*n6756
A frightening, three-headed dog who, according to Greek mythology, guarded the entrance to Hades, the kingdom of the dead.
, holds fast the key:*n6861
] Key,
n6756
n6861
You can make no excursion†gg4562
an issuing forth; an escape from confinement (OED n. 1a and 3)
; nor let in
gg4562
No letter or a message can approach you,
But by this giant-dwarf, your father’s agent,
Though I myself were wicked to assist you.
125FlaviaO, could’st thou be so virtuous! Then, I know,
Thou know’st I have command of gold and jewels
(Enough to buy a senator’s large conscience):
Do thou command it all to win him to us,
That petty thing. Does he appear bribe-free?
Is he the only officer uncorrupted?
Enter NANULO.
126NanuloMadonna Flavia, news.
127FlaviaWhat, I beseech you?
129Astutta [To FLAVIA] Dissemble†gg4507
put on an act, mimic
patience, as you are a woman*n6757
In the medieval and renaissance periods, patience was considered one of the chief virtues to be cultivated by women, along with submission to the will of the men in their lives. The story of Patient Griselda, who was subjected to numerous tests of her submissiveness by her lordly husband, was a familiar trope in art and literature, best known in English literature through Chaucer's "Clerk's Tale".
gg4507
n6757
130FlaviaHow does he, Nanulo?
131Astutta [To FLAVIA] That was well said.
132NanuloWell and respectful towards you, it seems,
As I could wish you would not――――
133FlaviaInsolent†gg4508
offensively contemptuous of the rights or feelings of others (OED I, 1)
slave!
gg4508
You know I may not stir beyond the key
You keep, and yet you wish me stay within.
A Mercadante†gg4509
a tradeswoman, (female) seller of goods (Italian)
from the Merceria*n9645
The Merceria in Venice occupied what Coryat describes as "the fairest street in all Venice saving Saint Markes"; it was so called because "many Mercers dwell there, as also many Stationers, and sundry other artificers". He describes it as reaching from near the Rialto to the piazza of St. Mark's; as wide enough for "five or sixe persons to walke together side by side"; and as "paved with Bricke and adorned with many faire buildings of a competent height on both sides". (See Thomas Coryat, Coryat's Crudities, 2 vols. [Glasgow: James MacLehose for Glasgow University Press, 1905], Vol. 1, p.328).
†gg4510
generally the Italian term for a market, but to English ears this aptly suggests also "mercery" a market or shops given over to the sale of fine haberdashery and quality ornamental materials and wear
,
gg4509
n9645
gg4510
The famous pedlar-woman of this city
With her most precious wares, for you to choose
What you shall like and take them as his presents
(A ceremony used on wedding eves*n6758
It was customary, certainly in Italy, for wealthy bridegrooms to visit their intended brides on the eve of the marriage day, bringing rich gifts (often silks, damasks, fine linens and decorative materials like ribbons and laces and sometimes jewels or money) in specially craftsman-made wooden chests or cassoni, which were exquisitely gilded and painted. For details of the ceremony and examples of cassoni, see Graham Hughes, Renaissance Cassoni (Polegate and London: Starcity Publishing with Art Books International, 1997).
)
n6758
Such rings, such things, such knacks†gg4511
ingenious contrivances; toys, trinkets, trifles, knick-knacks (OED knack n2, 3)
, such knots†gg4512
an ornament or adjunct to a dress made from a complicated interweaving or bows of ribbon; sometimes in the form of a cockade or epaulette
and bobs†gg4513
bunches of coloured yarn, ribbons; ornamental pendants or ear-drops
,
gg4511
gg4512
gg4513
Such curls†gg4514
locks of hair of a spiral or convolute form either used as a hair-extension or as a keepsake if made of the lover's own hair; wreaths of jewels on wires to adorn the hair
, such purls†gg4563
threads or cords made of twisted loops, especially of gold or silver wire, used for bordering and embroidering (OED n. I 1)
, such tricks†gg4515
ingeniously constructed toys or pieces of artifice, baubles
and trillibubkins†gg4516
used generally in alliterative collocation, such as "tricks and trillibubs"; "trilly bubkins" is a nonce diminutive (OED cites Brome's usage in this play)
gg4514
gg4563
gg4515
gg4516
As maids would turn no maids almost to see ’em!*n9465
That is: at the sight of them [the valuable trinkets] maidens would almost be willing to lose their virginity to possess them.
n9465
And can you yet be angry at such news,
With me the gladsome†gg4517
cheerful, joyous
bringer?
gg4517
136AstuttaVery good!
[Aside to FLAVIA] I have heard of this rare pedlar-woman
And that she is much used in close affairs*n6759
secret liaisons (the implication is that the pedlar-woman is a known go-between)
n6759
[To NANULO] Pray let her come.
137FlaviaWell sir, you know I shall not stir abroad;
When she is come, she’s welcome with my thanks.
Return†gg4564
say or state by way of reply or answer (OED v1. 19b)
so by the messenger.
gg4564
138NanuloMost readily.[NANULO] exit[s]
139AstuttaNow mistress, if I chance to set the saddle
On the right horse (that is, to place your maidenhead
Out of your store reward me with a dowry†gs704
the money or property which the wife brings to her husband; the portion given with the wife (OED dowry n, 2; dower n2, 2)
gs704
140FlaviaYes, and wish there a second maidenhead
On the condition†gs989
something demanded or required as a prerequisite to the granting or performance of something else (OED I, 1a)
*n6761
In the context, Flavia means that as part of her agreement with Astutta (a proviso within the contract) she will hope that Astutta may successfully fake a second hymen or maidenhead to grace her marriage bed. Devices to fake the loss of a hymen were deployed in the brothels in Venice as elsewhere in this period when so much social, ritual and iconic importance was invested in a woman's virginity.
.
gs989
n6761
141AstuttaWell, be cheerful then
And clear those cloudy looks, awake your senses,
Refresh your temples*n6762
That is: wash your face and eyes. Cold water would make the skin appear fresh and, as the temples are pressure points, to bathe them would be generally reinvigorating.
, rouse invention†gs1672
capacity for scheming
up.
n6762
gs1672
I have found ground to build on*n6763
The reference is to the parable in the New Testament of the man who built his home safely on rock as distinct from he who built unwisely on sand. When the storms came, the first withstood the blasts while the second sank without trace. The terms of the parable of the wise and foolish builders, which is to be found in the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 7: 24-27), underlie the whole of Astutta's speech. It is tempting to emend "found ground" to "sound ground" in light of the content of the parable, but the 1653 text decidedly has the former reading; there is no long "s" to make the word an epithet rather than a verb.
; but there lacks†gg4522
needs, is in need of, requires, wants
n6763
gg4522
Much rewing†gg4520
scoring or marking out in lines (for foundations)
, squaring†gg4521
setting square or true
, jointing†gg4523
making of firm joints to support a structure
, to make sure†gs762
firm, immovable (OED adj. 5)
*n6864
] sure,
gg4520
gg4521
gg4523
gs762
n6864
Against all storms, our lofty architure†gg4524
an early obsolete form of the word, architecture (OED records no usage after 1594)
.
gg4524
Come up to counsel†gg4525
deliberate, consult (together)
?
gg4525
Edited by Professor Richard Cave