ACT FIVE
5.1*
n8575
] ACT. V. Scene I.
*n8573
Like Act 2, Act 5 consists of one long scene in a single location, in this case the ordinary itself. The scene opens with an extended comic sequence in which Magdalen and Jane fulfil their ambition to come to the ordinary and learn about French behaviour and fashions. By this point in the play Magdalen, who has been accustomed to relatively thrifty living, is rather enjoying the introduction to the beau-monde that events have given her. While Alice is in on the plot and knows Frances’ true nationality and gender, Jane probably knows only what Alice has told her – that Frances teaches deportment and fashionable behaviour. The sequence is broken by the appearance of Wat, who after the indignities to which he was subjected in Act 4 is having second thoughts about Dryground’s scheme. The exchange with Magdalen and the other women culminates as Magdalen swoons and its taken off stage, accompanied by the bottle of wine from which she has been drinking throughout the scene. The scene is then set for the final revelations – of identity, allegiance and redemption – which are carefully stage-managed by Dryground and, especially, Valentine. Eventually, all of the play’s four fathers will be on stage simultaneously, and all of the younger generation. The only character not to appear in this scene is Trebasco, and it is possible that his role was doubled with another, perhaps that of Wat. (For further discussion of casting, see the Introduction.)
Dramaturgically, this is another of Brome’s large-scale scenes, but whereas the long scene in Act 2 created an ebb and flow among its characters as they exited and entered, here the energy builds towards the final conglomeration of characters on the stage.
n8575
n8573
Dramaturgically, this is another of Brome’s large-scale scenes, but whereas the long scene in Act 2 created an ebb and flow among its characters as they exited and entered, here the energy builds towards the final conglomeration of characters on the stage.
864FrancesTrès bien venue, Mesdames.*n8585
] TRes bien venue Madames.
n8577
This is Frances’ most sustained performance as a ‘demoiselle’, and it has the same pattern of phonetic spellings to indicate the accent and snippets of French dialogue as the sequence in Act 3 in which she encounters Oliver. In terms of the play’s narrative, Frances is a young man impersonating a woman, and in the workshop on this scene we experimented with some different casting patterns available to us with our cast of two men and two women. In this reading of the sequence up to the entrance of Wat and Dryground after speech 911 [DM 5.1.speech911], Frances’s part is read by Hannah Watkins, in this version it is read by Joseph Thompson, and in this extract it is read by Alan Morrissey. These clips are in chronological order, and it is possible to see one actor picking up and developing details of performance from another’s reading. The original all-male casting would lend a greater plausibility to the cross-dressed character, as an audience would be conditioned to accept a character played by a male actor as female. This precise effect was not available on the day of the workshop, and instead we have a kind of gender-blind casting: in the first extract, Frances is played by a woman, and Alice and Jane are played by men; in the others Frances and Jane are played by men. It is nonetheless possible to see different effects that casting a man or a woman as Frances might create, and the different effects that actors of the same sex might achieve. See notes on the lines below for further comment on specific details of the scene.
In some ways, the sequence’s closest analogue is the ‘Spanish Lady’ scene in Act 4 of Jonson’s The Devil is an Ass (King’s Men, 1616), in which a young man, Wittipol, impersonates a woman who claims to be able to instruct the women of London in the use of cosmetics. It is therefore possible that an audience member who knew Jonson’s play may have begun to wonder about Frances’s true gender at this point. For further discussion, see the Introduction.
You are very welcome.n8578
(You are) very welcome, ladies (French); Frances translates her own words in the second half of the line. In this extract from the workshop on this scene, Joseph Thompson (reading Frances) experiments with a wavering French accent, saying the first half of the line with a French accent and the second half with an English accent.
n8585
n8577
, Frances’s part is read by Hannah Watkins, in this version it is read by Joseph Thompson, and in this extract it is read by Alan Morrissey. These clips are in chronological order, and it is possible to see one actor picking up and developing details of performance from another’s reading. The original all-male casting would lend a greater plausibility to the cross-dressed character, as an audience would be conditioned to accept a character played by a male actor as female. This precise effect was not available on the day of the workshop, and instead we have a kind of gender-blind casting: in the first extract, Frances is played by a woman, and Alice and Jane are played by men; in the others Frances and Jane are played by men. It is nonetheless possible to see different effects that casting a man or a woman as Frances might create, and the different effects that actors of the same sex might achieve. See notes on the lines below for further comment on specific details of the scene.In some ways, the sequence’s closest analogue is the ‘Spanish Lady’ scene in Act 4 of Jonson’s The Devil is an Ass (King’s Men, 1616), in which a young man, Wittipol, impersonates a woman who claims to be able to instruct the women of London in the use of cosmetics. It is therefore possible that an audience member who knew Jonson’s play may have begun to wonder about Frances’s true gender at this point. For further discussion, see the Introduction.
n8578
from the workshop on this scene, Joseph Thompson (reading Frances) experiments with a wavering French accent, saying the first half of the line with a French accent and the second half with an English accent.
865MagdalenGood†gg5382
an exclamation along the same lines as ‘good heavens!’ or ‘good grief!’
lack! And is it you, Mistress Alice? Is’t possible? Are you come to learn carriage†gs1494
bodily deportment, the correct ways of moving/behaving
too? I will make bold with*n8579
Make free with, take the liberty (to drink).
t’other glass of wine.n8580
Magdalen drinks regularly throughout the sequence, and various bits of physical business might be added to heighten the comedy. In this extract from the workshop on this scene, Alice (Hannah Watkins) and Jane (Alan Morrissey) attempt to water down the wine, and later take the glass away from Magdalen; see also this extract for another example, this time with Joseph Thompson playing Jane, in which the two younger women hover anxiously, waiting for their chance to take the glass.
At a word,†gs1347
to speak plainly, to be honest (can also mean ‘in short’ or ‘briefly’)
I like your French carriage†gs1495
behaviour (OED n, 14a)
the better, that it allows elder women to drink wine.
gg5382
gs1494
n8579
n8580
from the workshop on this scene, Alice (Hannah Watkins) and Jane (Alan Morrissey) attempt to water down the wine, and later take the glass away from Magdalen; see also this extract for another example, this time with Joseph Thompson playing Jane, in which the two younger women hover anxiously, waiting for their chance to take the glass.gs1347
gs1495
866AliceThey have no other drink, except water. And maids are allowed but that.
867JaneAnd young wives (they say) wine with their water.
868MagdalenMingle†gg5609
mix, blend
your glass, then, daughter. This*n8581
i.e. the glass of undiluted wine.
for me. Your father has so sought you, Mistress Alice.
gg5609
n8581
869JaneMy father has missed us too, by this time.
870MagdalenBut neither of ’em can dream French enough*n8582
Either (1) can speak enough French, or (2) have enough interest in French things.
to direct ’em hither,†gg1268
here (to this place)
I warrant†gg859
assure, promise
you. And does she learn the carriages very well, Madam-silly?*n8583
A mispronunciation of Mademoiselle, which Frances corrects in the next line.
n8582
gg1268
gg859
n8583
871FrancesMademoiselle, s’il vous plaît.n8586
Mademoiselle, if you please (French). See this extract from the workshop for an example of the way in which Frances might correct Magdalen.
*n8584
] Madamoyselle, si vous plaist
n8586
from the workshop for an example of the way in which Frances might correct Magdalen.n8584
872MagdalenWhat do ye call ’t? I shall never hit it. How do you find†gs1496
regard (OED v, 6a)
your scholar?
gs1496
873FrancesOh, she is very good. She learn very well.*n8587
The non-standard grammar here suggests that Frances continues to speak with a strong French accent.
n8587
874MagdalenBut how much carriage hath she learned? Hark you, Mistress Alice. Have you not learned to carry†gg5610
succeed in obtaining (OED v, 15a); manage (OED 22a); bear up (as in sexual intercourse) (Williams, 1: 207-8)
a man?n8588
There is a heavy sexual innuendo in Magdalen’s speech here, which is picked up and intensified by Frances. See this extract from the workshop, in which Jenny McEvoy reads Magdalen.
Has not a good husband stol’n you hither? I can think waggishly,†gg5611
in a waggish (mischievous or wanton) manner
I tell you, and an old ape has an old eye.*n8258
This is a proverbial expression (Tilley A272); it also appears in William Rowley’s A Match at Midnight (Revels Company, c. 1622) and Robert Chamberlain’s The Swaggering Damsel (Beeston’s Boys, c. 1639).
Go to.†gs1497
an exhortation, equivalent to ‘come, come’ (OED go v, 93b)
gg5610
n8588
from the workshop, in which Jenny McEvoy reads Magdalen.gg5611
n8258
gs1497
876FrancesWhat is that you say?
877MagdalenI ask you how much carriage she has learned?n8589
In this extract from the workshop on this scene, Magdalen (read by Jenny McEvoy) assumes that Frances’s ‘What is that you say?’ means that she does not speak very much English, and she therefore says this line very slowly and clearly.
n8589
from the workshop on this scene, Magdalen (read by Jenny McEvoy) assumes that Frances’s ‘What is that you say?’ means that she does not speak very much English, and she therefore says this line very slowly and clearly.
878FrancesShe come but dis*n8590
This (said with a strong French accent).
day, and she carry†gs1499
hold, position
both the hands already.n8591
That is: she can already position her hands correctly. See this extract from the workshop on this scene, in which Joseph Thompson reads Frances’s lines with a great deal of attention to the sexual innuendo in this and the following lines: it is accompanied by physical business, as Frances positions the arms and feet of Hannah Watkins’s Alice, and a sense of intimacy between the characters is created. An audience may be unsure as to the meaning of the innuendo: they may read it as female bawdy, as homosocial or lesbian intimacy between two women, or they may suspect Frances’s true gender. As Jenny McEvoy commented during the workshop, we have here two competing kinds of bawdy, one from Magdalen and one from Frances.
n8590
gs1499
n8591
from the workshop on this scene, in which Joseph Thompson reads Frances’s lines with a great deal of attention to the sexual innuendo in this and the following lines: it is accompanied by physical business, as Frances positions the arms and feet of Hannah Watkins’s Alice, and a sense of intimacy between the characters is created. An audience may be unsure as to the meaning of the innuendo: they may read it as female bawdy, as homosocial or lesbian intimacy between two women, or they may suspect Frances’s true gender. As Jenny McEvoy commented during the workshop, we have here two competing kinds of bawdy, one from Magdalen and one from Frances.
879MagdalenHow say by that? Is’t possible? Can she carry both her hands in one day?
880FrancesYes, and before tomorrow she shall carry the foot as well.*n8592
That is: she shall position her foot correctly too. This carries a strong sexual innuendo, as the English word ‘foot’ sounds very like the French word foutre, which has the slang meaning of ‘to fuck’; compare the language lesson scene in Shakespeare’s Henry V (Chamberlain’s Men, 1599), in which Princess Katherine is informed by Alice, her waiting woman, that the English for pieds (feet) and robe (gown) are ‘De foot ... et de cown’ (Alice mispronounces ‘gown’ in a way that makes it sound like con, the French word for ‘cunt’). Katherine replies, ‘De foot et de cown? O Seigneur Dieu! Ils sont les mots de son mauvais, corruptible, gros, et impudique, et non pour les dames d’honneur d’user. Je ne voudrais prononcer ces mots devant les seigneurs de France pour tout le monde’ (3.4.47-52) (‘De foot and de cown? O Lord God, they are words with the most wicked, corrupting, gross and impudent sound, and not for ladies of honour to use. I would not say these words before the lords of France for all the world’). See [NOTE n8591] for commentary on the potential of this innuendo in performance.
n8592
881MagdalenIt seems, then, you teach handling†gg5614
touching, feeling (OED n, 1a); see also Williams, 2: 642-3, who quotes Shakespeare, Measure for Measure (King’s Men, c. 1604), in which Escalus proposes to question Isabella, ‘You shall see how I’ll handle her’, to which Lucio responds, ‘Not better than he, by her own report’ (5.1.270-1)
before footing†gs1500
dancing (OED n, 2) and by extension other physical interaction; the stable positioning of the feet (OED n, 4a); Williams (3: 1236) notes that in The Family of Love (King’s Revels, c. 1607; published London, 1608), Master Purge, fearing his wife’s adultery, says, ‘I scent your footing, wife’ (sig. F1r); see also Williams 1: 525-6 on the associations between the word ‘foot’ and sexual intercourse
*n8593
Magdalen hammers home the sexual innuendo in Frances’s words.
in your French way.
gg5614
gs1500
n8593
882FrancesYou may learn dat*n8595
That (said with a strong French accent).
of de leetle shild.*n8596
The little child (said with a strong French accent).
De leetle shild, you see, will handle de ting,*n8597
The thing (said with a strong French accent, and heavy sexual innuendo).
before it can set one foot to de*n8598
The (said with a strong French accent).
ground. Come, let me see you make a reverence.†gs1501
a gesture indicative of respect: here a curtsy (OED n, 2)
n8595
n8596
n8597
n8598
gs1501
883MagdalenReverence! What’s that?
884Frances’Tis dat you call a curtsy. Let me see you make curtsy.
885MagdalenLook you here then.[She curtsies.]
886FrancesOh, fee, fee— dat is de gross†gs1448
‘brutally lacking in refinement or decency’ (OED a, 15)
English douck,n8601
Duck: ‘An instantaneous lowering of head or body; a rapid jerky bow or obeisance’ (OED n2, 2); Magdalen may look rather like a duck as she curtsies: see this extract from the workshop on this scene for an example of how it might be performed. See also William Cavendish and James Shirley, The Variety (King’s Men, 1641; published in The Country Captain and the Variety, Two Comedies Written by a Person of Honour, London, 1649), in which the French dancing master, Galliard, denounces Lucy’s reverence. When she protests, ‘’Tis the French fashion as you taught me, Monsieur’, he replies, ‘Oui, ’tis de French fashion, but de French fashion is always to change, and dis reverence displease a me very mush, because you go back, back vid your buttock, as if some vod take you by dat, to vat me vil give a no name’ (sig. C6r)
*n8599
That is the gross English duck (said with a strong French accent).
for de swag-buttocked-wife†gg5615
‘having large swaying buttocks’ (OED, swag-belly)
of de peasant.
gs1448
n8601
from the workshop on this scene for an example of how it might be performed. See also William Cavendish and James Shirley, The Variety (King’s Men, 1641; published in The Country Captain and the Variety, Two Comedies Written by a Person of Honour, London, 1649), in which the French dancing master, Galliard, denounces Lucy’s reverence. When she protests, ‘’Tis the French fashion as you taught me, Monsieur’, he replies, ‘Oui, ’tis de French fashion, but de French fashion is always to change, and dis reverence displease a me very mush, because you go back, back vid your buttock, as if some vod take you by dat, to vat me vil give a no name’ (sig. C6r)n8599
gg5615
887MagdalenHow like you this then? [She curtsies.] There’s a reverence, I warrant†gg859
assure, promise
you.
gg859
888FrancesFee, dat is worse. See how you carry†gs1499
hold, position
de hands like de comedien*n8603
actor (French)
dat act de shangling.n8602
That is: you carry the hands like the comedian [actor] that acts the changeling (said with a strong French accent). This may be a reference to the performance of one of two plays: Thomas Middleton and William Rowley’s The Changeling, first performed by Lady Elizabeth’s Men in 1622 but revived in 1635 (see John R. Elliott, Jr., ‘Four Caroline Playgoers’, Medieval and Renaissance Drama in England 6 [1993], 179-93 [192]), in which Antonio poses as a changeling, or Brome’s own play The English Moor, performed by Queen Henrietta Maria’s Men 1637, in which Buzzard poses as the changeling Timsy (the ‘comedian’ in this case was Timothy Reade, who probably appeared in The Demoiselle). The ‘changeling’ in both of these plays is a character who is posing as someone who is cognitively/intellectually disabled. On the title page of The Wits (1662), a figure labelled ‘Changeling’ appears among other dramatis characters (Falstaff, Bubble from Greene’s Tu Quoque, etc.) [IMAGEEM_4_1]. He may be Buzzard or Antonio, and both of his hands are limp at the wrist: this may be how Brome envisaged Magdalen holding her hands as she curtsies. See these extracts from the workshop, in which Magdalen holds her hands in this manner, curtsying with enormous concentration, and Joseph Thompson and Alan Morrissey, reading Frances, imitate in varying ways the ‘comedian that acts the changeling’
gs1499
n8603
n8602
, in which Magdalen holds her hands in this manner, curtsying with enormous concentration, and Joseph Thompson and Alan Morrissey, reading Frances, imitate in varying ways the ‘comedian that acts the changeling’
889MagdalenShall I ever hit on’t,*achieve it trow?†gs833
do you think
I must take t’other glass.n8605
Magdalen has apparently emptied her glass at this point, and reaches for another one. See these readings of the full sequence up to the entrance of Dryground and Wat after speech 911 [DM 5.1.speech911] for the effect in performance of the constant replenishment.
achieve it trow?†gs833
n8605
for the effect in performance of the constant replenishment.
890AliceTake heed she does not take too much.
891JaneI hope she will not. But there’s no crossing†gg1418
thwarting, opposing, or contravening (OED vbl n, 8)
her.
gg1418
892FrancesLet me see your hands.
893MagdalenThere they be. They have been a little too familiar†gs1502
friendly, over-intimate
with sea-coal†gg5617
mineral coal (coal in the usual sense), as distinguished from charcoal (OED sea-coal n, 2a)
fires, and much other coarse†gg2366
rough, unrefined
housewifery,†gg3906
management of household affairs, housekeeping (OED 1); thrift, economy (OED 1b)
which I shall utterly abhor and wash off when I have learnt to carry them courtly.†gs1503
in a polished or refined manner (as befitting the court)
But shall I ever do it, think you?
gs1502
gg5617
gg2366
gg3906
gs1503
894FrancesYes, yes, and all your other parts†gs1504
characteristics, attributes (OED n, 12); genitals
and members.†gg5618
parts of the body; sexual organs
n8606
In this extract from the workshop on this scene, Alan Morrissey (reading Frances) makes the innuendo clear.
gs1504
gg5618
n8606
from the workshop on this scene, Alan Morrissey (reading Frances) makes the innuendo clear.
895MagdalenI may win†gg2242
persuade, prevail upon (OED win v1, 9a)
my husband to love me courtly then.*n8607
i.e. to make love to me (to woo me or to have sex with me) in a courtly fashion.
gg2242
n8607
896FrancesTo love and lie†gs152
sleep with, have sex with
with you courtly.n8608
Frances again makes the innuendo in Magdalen’s speech explicit; in this extract from the workshop on this scene Joseph Thompson (reading Frances) creates intimacy with Magdalen in this line, which suggests the potential pathos of her reply.
gs152
n8608
from the workshop on this scene Joseph Thompson (reading Frances) creates intimacy with Magdalen in this line, which suggests the potential pathos of her reply.
897MagdalenThat’s but seldom,*n8610
This suggests that courtiers probably don’t make love to their wives very often; this may also be Magdalen’s wistful comment on the state of her own sex life.
I doubt.†gs1505
fear
n8610
gs1505
898FrancesYou shall know all de ways to win his love,
899MagdalenI will so multiply, then.*n8609
Magdalen repeats Frances’s ‘multiply’, but it picks up an additional meaning, ‘breed’ or ‘cause (a family, population, etc.) to increase in numbers by reproduction or procreation’ (OED v, 3a).
n8609
900FrancesNot only in your looks, your smiles and sweet caresses,†gg5619
‘an action of endearment, a fondling touch or action, a blandishment’ (OED)
n8611
At this point Frances takes control of the sequence, as she talks Magdalen through various skills and techniques. See these extracts from the workshop on this scene, in which Frances (read by Joseph Thompson and Alan Morrissey) physically moves Magdalen around the stage.
gg5619
n8611
, in which Frances (read by Joseph Thompson and Alan Morrissey) physically moves Magdalen around the stage. The face, but with the motion†gs1508
movement (with sexual innuendo); step, gesture
of each lineament†gg5620
contour, outline (OED 2)
gs1508
gg5620
Of the whole frame†gs1509
structure
of your well-ordered†gg5621
‘exhibiting good order; rightly regulated; carefully arranged; following good lines of conduct or procedure’ (OED a, 1)
body.
gs1509
gg5621
An eye, a lip, a finger shall not move,
A toe trip unregarded,†gg5622
unseen, without being looked at
but your geat*n8612
Gait: way of moving (said with a strong French accent: this is the octavo’s spelling).
gg5622
n8612
And your whole graceful presence shall attract
(Beyond affection) admiration,
As I’ll artifice†gg5623
‘make or shape by artifice; to apply artifice to; to construct, contrive’ (OED)
you.
gg5623
901MagdalenI’ll be a nymph.†gg5624
semi-divine spirit in classical mythology, often the spirit of a river, tree, etc. (OED n1, 1); a slang term for a prostitute (OED n1, 2a); damsel, maiden (OED n1, 2b)
gg5624
[Sing[s]] *n8614
] [sing.]; in the octavo the stage direction is placed in the right hand margin
‘Diana and her darlings, dear, dear, dear’, etc.n8613
The first line of a ballad titled ‘A New Sonnet, Showing How the Goddess Diana Transformed Acteon into the Shape of a Hart’. The earliest extant copy (London, 1650), specifies the tune ‘Rogero’, which has not been traced. The opening lines read: ‘Diana and her darlings dear / went walking on a day / Throughout the woods and waters clear, / for their disport and play’. See Wood, ‘Music in Caroline Plays’, vol. 2, Appendix 1, 450. An alternative version of the lyric, titled ‘The History of Diana and Acteon’ can be found in Clement Robinson’s A Handful of Pleasant Delights (London, 1584), sig. B4r-6r. For the effect of these sung lines see these extracts from the workshop on this scene, in which Jenny McEvoy (reading Magdalen) improvises a tune for the lyric for the first two lines of the ballad.
n8614
n8613
, in which Jenny McEvoy (reading Magdalen) improvises a tune for the lyric for the first two lines of the ballad. But may I paint,†gg5625
use cosmetics
say you?
gg5625
902FrancesOh, most allowably;†gg5626
excusably, legitimately
gg5626
903MagdalenT’other glass for that.*n8616
i.e. I’ll drink to that. Magdalen apparently drinks again at this point. See [NOTE n8580] for further comment on these moments.
n8616
904FrancesThen for the art of dressing,†gs1510
getting dressed, or elaborately arranging the hair
setting forth†gg5629
arranging in a certain manner, laying out (set v1, 144a (c)); adorning, decorating (set v1, 144g); exhibiting, displaying (set v1, 144j)
gs1510
gg5629
Head, face, neck, breast, with which I will inspire you
To cover or discover any part
Unto de best advantage.
905MagdalenThat is to say,
To hide shame, or show all:*n8620
i.e. either hide embarrassing features, or display everything
that’s her meaning.
n8620
906FrancesYou shall have no defect perceived,†gg5630
seen, detected
no grace†gs1511
‘attractive or pleasing quality or feature’ (OED n, 2a)
concealed.
gg5630
gs1511
907MagdalenI am for the naked neck and shoulders, then.*n8621
That is: I am in favour of wearing a garment with a low neck so as to display the neck and shoulders. A low neck-line was fashionable in the 1630s: see, for example, Gilbert Jackson, A Lady of the Grenville Family and her Son (1640), Tate Britain.
n8621
For (I tell you, Mistress) I have a white skin
And a round straight neck, smooth and plump shoulders,
Free from French flea-bites,n8622
Although Magdalen is talking about flea-bites, the addition of the word ‘French’ may suggest that she is also talking about the symptoms of venereal disease; compare Brome’s own The Jovial Crew, in which Oliver compares city women with female beggars: ‘Why, beggars are flesh and blood, and rags are no diseases. Their lice are no French fleas. And there is much wholesomer flesh under country dirt than city painting, and less danger in dirt and rags than in ceruse and satin’ [JC 3.1.speech467]. The line might be delivered to Frances, as it is in this extract from the workshop on the scene, or as an aside: see this extract, in which it is addressed to Alice and Jane. The latter reading encourages an audience to assume that Magdalen is thinking about the pox.
and never a wrinkle
n8622
from the workshop on the scene, or as an aside: see this extract, in which it is addressed to Alice and Jane. The latter reading encourages an audience to assume that Magdalen is thinking about the pox. Near ’em, though I say’t.
908Frances’T has been suggested by invective†gg5631
abusive, vituperative (OED a, 1)
men,n8623
This speech is rather different in its effect from the previous exchange with Magdalen, as Frances broadens her argument about fashion to examine the origins of masculine stylistic affectations. As Joseph Thompson pointed out in the workshop on this sequence, it is structured rather like the routine of a stand-up comic, as different styles of dress are described and then insulted, with Frances perhaps picking out members of the audience as she speaks. Some of the fashions described are Jacobean rather than Caroline, conjuring the vision of a man of fifty still wearing the ‘long silk hose’ and short breeches of his youth. In this extract from the workshop, Alan Morrissey, reading Frances, makes use of the preceding discussion, picking out for Magdalen’s benefit men in the audience who might be wearing a fringe (‘brow-locks’) for various underhand reasons. Brome utilises this quasi-stand-up technique elsewhere, notably in The New Academy, in which Galliard’s long speech [NA 4.2.speech990] similarly focuses on issues of fashion: see [NOTE n6941] for discussion and extracts from the workshop on that sequence. The speech also parodies the tendency that Farah Karim-Cooper notes in anti-cosmetic tracts to reduce women ‘in long lists, to the parts of their bodies or the accoutrements that they might attach to their frames’ (Cosmetics in Shakespearean and Renaissance Drama [Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2006], 113); for further discussion see the Introduction.
gg5631
n8623
, as different styles of dress are described and then insulted, with Frances perhaps picking out members of the audience as she speaks. Some of the fashions described are Jacobean rather than Caroline, conjuring the vision of a man of fifty still wearing the ‘long silk hose’ and short breeches of his youth. In this extract from the workshop, Alan Morrissey, reading Frances, makes use of the preceding discussion, picking out for Magdalen’s benefit men in the audience who might be wearing a fringe (‘brow-locks’) for various underhand reasons. Brome utilises this quasi-stand-up technique elsewhere, notably in The New Academy, in which Galliard’s long speech [NA 4.2.speech990] similarly focuses on issues of fashion: see [NOTE n6941] for discussion and extracts from the workshop on that sequence. The speech also parodies the tendency that Farah Karim-Cooper notes in anti-cosmetic tracts to reduce women ‘in long lists, to the parts of their bodies or the accoutrements that they might attach to their frames’ (Cosmetics in Shakespearean and Renaissance Drama [Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2006], 113); for further discussion see the Introduction. Devised out of necessity to hide
The outward symptoms of some inward†gs1512
inner; intimate
grief,*n8626
This refers to lesions in the skin (chancres), which are a symptom of syphilis.
gs1512
n8626
As, formerly, the saffron-steeped linen,*n8627
Linen collars dyed with yellow starch were fashionable in the 1610s and 1620s; interestingly, as Ann Rosalind Jones and Peter Stallybrass note, references to yellow starch recur in texts of the 1650s (the period when many of Brome’s plays, including The Demoiselle, were first printed) attacking James I, which draw on its association with the scandalous murder of Sir Thomas Overbury and with Ann Turner, who was hanged in November 1615 for her complicity in the murder. Turner wore a yellow collar and cuffs to her execution, and was widely (and erroneously) credited with having introduced the technique into England. See Renaissance Clothing and the Materials of Memory (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2000), 59-85.
n8627
By some great man found useful against vermin,*n8628
Saffron was supposed to keep parasites away from clothes; Jones and Stallybrass quote Fynes Moryson on the poor folk of Ireland who, he writes, wore shirts ‘coloured with saffron to avoid lowsiness, incident to the wearing of foul linen’ (Renaissance Clothing and the Materials of Memory, 67).
n8628
Might bring up†gg5634
bring into fashion (OED bring v, 27c)
narrow brims*n8630
i.e. on a hat
to publish†gg5635
announce, proclaim
it;
gg5634
n8630
gg5635
Another, to obscure his, or perhaps
First wore the tronks*n8632
Trunks (said with a strong French accent).
and long silk-hose.*n8633
These are short trunks worn with long silk stockings, revealing the leg. See William Larkin’s George Villiers, 1st Duke of Buckingham (c. 1616), National Portrait Gallery, London.
As likely
n8632
n8633
The baker-knees,†gg5638
deformities of the legs (e.g. knock knees) that bakers were supposedly prone to (OED baker 5); in Pus-Mantia, the Mag-Astro-Mancer, or, The Magical-Astrological-Diviner Posed and Puzzled (London, 1652), John Gaule writes that ‘loose-kneed, signifies lascivious, and baker-kneed, effeminate’ (p. 186)
or some strange shamble-shanks,†gg5639
someone with deformed or ill-shaped legs
gg5638
gg5639
Begat the ankle-breeches.†gg5640
breeches covering the whole of the legs
*n8634
Compare James Shirley, The Gentleman of Venice (Queen Henrietta Maria’s Men, 1639 [possibly premiered in Dublin c. 1637]; published London, 1655), in which Malipiero castigates ‘men / Of state, who hide their warp’t legs in long gowns, / And keep their wisdom warm in furs like agues’ (sig. C7r).
gg5640
n8634
909MagdalenSure, the men
Took that conceit†gs1063
conception, notion, idea
from us. What woman shows†gg5641
displays; displays ‘deliberately or ostentatiously in order to attract notice or win admiration’ (OED v, 8a)
gs1063
gg5641
A leg that’s not a good one?*n8635
The erotic potential of female legs in the Caroline period is suggested in texts such as Robert Herrick’s ‘The Vision’: ‘Her legs were such Diana shows, / When tucked up she a-hunting goes; / With buskins shortened to descry / The happy dawning of her thigh’ (The Poems of Robert Herrick, ed. Leonard Cyril Martin [Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1965], 51).
She shows a swaddled†gg5642
wrapped in bandages
leg.*n8637
] in the octavo this direction appears in the margins of this line and the following one
*n8636
Compare the stage business in George Chapman’s The Gentleman Usher (Children of the Chapel, c. 1602), in which the elderly (and increasingly tipsy) Corteza declares, ‘thank God, / I never was more sound of wind and limb’ and displays ‘a great bombasted [padded] leg’, saying, ‘Look you, I warrant you I have a leg, / Holds out as handsomely -’ (The Gentleman Usher, ed. John Hazel Smith [London: Edward Arnold, 1970], 2.1.26-9). Like Chapman’s play, The Demoiselle requires a boy actor to perform a caricature of aging female sexuality.
n8635
gg5642
n8637
n8636
910FrancesThese, among men, are followed for the fashions,
That were invented for the better grace
911MagdalenGood lack!†gg5382
an exclamation along the same lines as ‘good heavens!’ or ‘good grief!’
What knowledge comes from foreign parts?†gs1514
lands; characteristics, attributes (OED n, 12); genitals
gg5382
gs1514
913WatNot for a minute, sir. I’ll not be kicked
And called base†gg295
contemptible, degraded, unworthy
pander†gs1385
go-between, bawd
for your baseness—†gg5644
iniquity, contemptible behaviour
gg295
gs1385
gg5644
914DrygroundNay, look you,†gs1515
pay attention; listen to me
Wat—
gs1515
And made a sport†gs446
entertainment, amusement, recreation, diversion (OED n1, 1a)
for watermen†gg454
licensed wherry men who plied for hire on the river (in London on the Thames) (OED 2)
i’th’ Thames.
gs446
gg454
916DrygroundBut hear me, Wat.
917WatI’ll hear my father sooner. Give me hence
Further in your base way. Heart,†gg3659
mild oath: by God's heart
I am hip-shot!†gg5646
have a dislocated hip-joint (OED a, 1)
gg3659
gg5646
918Dryground [Aside] Now, would his body’s pains convert his soul,
’Twere a good work.
919WatI am in desperate fear
O’th’ mourning of the chine,†gg5647
‘a disease of horses’ (OED chine, n2, 5) (chine: spine, back)
too, with the kicks
gg5647
And hunches†gg5648
pushes, shoves (OED n, 1a)
they o’erlaid†gg5649
overlaid: overwhelmed, oppressed (OED v, 4)
me with. Oh, base!
gg5648
gg5649
920DrygroundBut how was it my fault?
922JaneWhat may this mean?
924WatNay, it shall out. Your base inhuman project
To sell your daughter’s maidenhead (I care not
Who hears me, I), and cunningly to make me
Your hackney-jade†gg5652
an inferior kind of hired horse: a ‘hackney’ is a horse kept for hire (OED n, 2), and ‘jade’ is a contemptuous word for a horse
to fetch your chapmen†gg5653
merchants, dealers
in.
gg5652
gg5653
925MagdalenWhere are we now?
926JaneWhat did my husband mean to wish us hither?
927WatBaseness! I cannot call it bad enough.
929WatMine eyes are opened now.
930DrygroundBut I believe
They were almost beaten out first.
931WatAnd I vow,
Ere I will marry so, I’ll take a beggar
And join in trade with her, though I get nothing.
But my name is Vermin already; I
Thank a good father for’t.
Your name most numerously.
933WatMuch better than your sale-ware,†gs1518
literally means inferior quality goods (ready-made rather than home-made; OED sale n2, 4a), but it is used in early modern texts to refer to women with low moral standards or prostitutes; compare the name of Alicia Saleware in Brome’s A Mad Couple Well Matched, and the statement of Grimundo in James Shirley’s The Grateful Servant (Queen Henrietta Maria’s Men, 1629; published London,1630), who disdains ‘sale-ware, mercenary stuff that ye may have i’th’ suburbs, and now maintenance traffic with ambassadors’ servants’ (sig. G4r)
and more lasting;†gg5655
enduring, permanent (OED a, 1): used here either to refer to strength of affection or heath
gs1518
gg5655
I think I saw her today must be the woman.
[To FRANCES] Good Madam Polecat,*n8641
'Polecat' is a term often used for a whore or a bawd; Williams (2: 1070) cites the insults aimed by the title-character, Franceschina, in Marston’s The Dutch Courtesan (Queen’s Revels, c. 1604) at her bawd: 'Foutra 'pon you, vitch, bawd, polecat' (David Crane, ed., The Dutch Courtesan [London: A&C Black, 1997], 2.2.35).
the trim†gs1519
well-equipped; competent; excellent, fine (OED a, 1); elegantly dressed (OED a, 2); good looking (OED a, 2c); fine (said ironically) (OED 3)
schoolmistress!
n8641
gs1519
I’ll make bold with*n8642
Presume; behave in a bold manner; take liberties with.
your scholar.*n8643
i.e. Alice
What! You have more?*n8644
Wat apparently spies Magdalan and Jane at this point.
n8642
n8643
n8644
I’ll carry her and her virginity
Unto some fitter place of execution.*n8645
Execution is often used in early modern texts to mean ‘copulation’. Williams (1: 451) compares Rowley, All’s Lost by Lust (?Prince Charles’s Men, c. 1619 [later Lady Elizabeth’s Men]; published London, 1633): ‘alas poor maidenhead, th’art cast, i’faith, / And must to execution’ (sig. B1v), and Sharpham’s Cupid’s Whirligig (King’s Revels, 1607; published London, 1607), ‘why do your old judges’ widows always marry young gentlemen, but to show that they love execution better than judgement’ (sigs. F4r-v). Williams writes, ‘the primary sense, giving practical effect to sexual passion, too readily blurs with that of inflicting capital punishment, saying much of the inherent violence of sexuality’.
n8645
934AliceYou brought me hither, sir, and here I’ll stay.
935WatWhat! In a bawdy-house?
936MagdalenOh dear! And is it so? What are we, then? Is this your bon*n8646
Good (French): spelled ‘boun’ in the octavo.
fashion? Is this the carriage of the body that you would teach us? What, to be whores? We could learn that at home, and*n8647
if
there were need, without your teaching.
n8646
n8647
937JaneMother, what do you mean?
938AliceMistress Bumpsey, pray fear no harm.
939MagdalenOh good lack!†gg5382
an exclamation along the same lines as ‘good heavens!’ or ‘good grief!’
What will become of us? Where are we now, Jane? Betrayed! Betrayed! Our honours are betrayed. O my poor Bump; how will thou take this at my hands,*n8648
from me
though I carry†gs1499
hold, position
them never so courtly?
gg5382
n8648
gs1499
940Dryground’Sfoot, she’s in her maudlin†gg5656
the stage of drunkenness in which the drinker is tearfully sentimental (OED a, 2)
fit!†gs1520
mood (OED dates this usage from 1680, but it seems to be the meaning here)
All her wine showers out in tears.
gg5656
gs1520
941MagdalenOh, oh, oh—*n8649
This appears to indicate that Magdalen is sobbing, though she could also say ‘oh!’
[She falls.]*n8650
i.e. she swoons and therefore falls to the ground
n8649
n8650
942DrygroundPray have her in. Look carefully to her.
943MagdalenOh, oh, oh—
944DrygroundTake the bottle with ye.
946DrygroundIn, all, to the next room.FRA[NCES and] JANE [lead] out MAGDALEN.*n8652
] Exeunt Fra. Jane leading out Magdalen. (in the octavo the direction appears in the margins of [DM 5.1.lines2635-2637]).
n8652
947WatSir, she shall with me. I’ll leave her where I found her.
948DrygroundSir, no such matter.
949Wat’Sfoot,†gg578
an oath, short for ‘God’s foot’
gentlewoman, must I kick you out o’ doors?*n8653
i.e. out of the door.
gg578
n8653
950DrygroundNo, nor depart yourself, but by authority.
Enter two SERGEANTS.
And do your office.
952WatHa, ha, ha! Why, this is well, and very hospitably done. Would any man but an old bawd†gg356
procurer, go-between
ha’ done this?
gg356
953DrygroundSir, I mistrusted your apostasy.†gg5659
abandonment or renunciation of religious or moral allegiance (OED 1); abandonment of principles more generally (OED 2)
*n8654
i.e. suspected that you would abandon your allegiance to me
gg5659
n8654
Since you revolt, I must recall my money,
Sister here.
954WatBaser and baser still! Are you a knight?
A knight? A post-knight!†gg5660
knight of the post: a perjurer or someone who earns a living by making false oaths (OED knight of the post)
A postilion†gg5661
‘a person who rides the (leading) nearside (left-hand side) horse drawing a coach or carriage, esp. when one pair only is used and there is no coachman; also in extended use: an outrider for a carriage.’ (OED n, 3; the earliest example cited is from Massinger’s The City Madam [King’s Men, 1633; published London, 1658], and this usage appears in a number of Caroline texts)
gg5660
gg5661
Three fingers†gg5662
measurements equal to the breadth of a finger, or three quarters of an inch (OED n, 5)
thick, is not so base.†gg295
contemptible, degraded, unworthy
You varlets,†gg2962
knaves, rogues, menials
gg5662
gg295
gg2962
The place may be as honest as our office.
Will you walk, sir?
956WatStay. Let me consider
If now my father (as some in like cases
Have done) would take a fine submission.
Rather than back to my old ward†gs1521
imprisonment (OED v, 3); prison (OED v, 17a), department or section within a prison (OED v, 17b)
again.
gs1521
Enter VALENTINE.
957ValentineThe business, gentlemen.
958WatMy lucky†gs1523
well-omened (OED a, 3); acquired through good fortune; occurring by chance and producing happy results (OED a, 2)
friend!
gs1523
Sir, you relieved me lately. Could you now
But add another favour, it might teach
One that ne’er learnt to pray, to pray for you.
Do you not know me, sir? ’Twas I you saved
Out of the Temple suds.*n8657
That is: from being washed under the pump in the Temple Gardens. ‘In the suds’ also means to be in difficulties or to be in disgrace (see OED suds n, 5).
n8657
959ValentineHast thou been shaved since?*n8658
Wat is apparently no longer wearing his false beard.
n8658
960WatNo, sir, I was disguised.
961ValentineDisguised!
962WatDisguised in villainy, which I recant.†gs1524
renounce, abjure (OED v1, 1b); publicly confess as an error (OED v1, 3)
gs1524
963ValentineWho knows but he may prove an honest man?
[To DRYGROUND] Pray, sir, a word.
964SergeantsWe do not use to wait dry-fisted,†gg5664
i.e. without being paid (see OED dry-fist: a stingy person; OED defines dry-fisted as stingy, but the meaning in this context seems clear)
*n8659
i.e. we are not used to waiting
nor dry-throated.†gg5665
without being offered drink
gg5664
n8659
gg5665
965WatI would you were as wet all over as I was like to have been! Or, as you are catchpoles,†gg5666
sergeants, especially officers who arrest debtors (OED 2)
I would you had been but in those hands I escaped from.
gg5666
966DrygroundYou have prevailed, sir.
967ValentineSergeants, you shall not
Go into that room with your prisoner.
You shall have wine and smoke†gs1525
tobacco
too.*n8660
] this part of the speech is lined as prose in the octavo
gs1525
n8660
I can relieve thee. Fear not.
968WatSir, get my father but to say as much
You shall have half.
969ValentineWe’ll talk anon.WAT [and] SERGEANTS [exit].*n8663
[Exeunt Wat, Sergeants] In the octavo this direction appears on the previous line, but I have moved it because the first half of Valentine’s line is clearly addressed to Wat.
n8663
[To DRYGROUND] The youth appears converted.
But that I used, to urge*n8666
] urg’d
him past his nature.*n8665
i.e. to transgress his natural scruples.
n8666
n8665
Giving the spurs ran him beyond his speed,
Quite off his legs, and glad to be led home.*n8667
The image is of Dryground as rider and Wat as horse: Dryground has spurred Wat to run faster and longer than he was capable of, and the latter is now docile and eager to return to his former life.
n8667
All your instructions concerning him
Are hard at hand, with the wise*n8669
said ironically
western†gg4113
from the west of England
knight;
n8669
gg4113
He too’s content to go to the best ordinary†gs1572
an establishment where meals were provided at a set price; OED notes that in the seventeenth century ‘the more expensive ordinaries were frequented by men of fashion, and the dinner was usually followed by gambling; hence the term was often used as synonymous with “gambling-house”’ (OED n, 11c)
gs1572
While ’tis best cheap*n8670
Most inexpensive (OED cheap a, 1a); most easily obtained (OED cheap a, 3).
he says. Where are the women?
n8670
As much French carriage as might serve to furnish
A petty†gs1527
little, subordinate (i.e. to the royal court); there is probably a deliberate choice of ‘petty’ because it sounds like the French petit (little)
court, is fallen into a fit†gs1528
humour, impulse (OED dates this usage from 1680, but it seems to be the meaning here)
gs1527
gs1528
To overthrow it all again.
973ValentineThe better.
But is the house clear, sir, of all your riflers?†gs1529
gamesters, participants in the raffle; those who want to ‘rifle’ Frances
gs1529
Into the nobler breasts,†gg5673
hearts (the breast is figuratively thought of as the seat of the affections and emotions) (OED n, 5)
they all recanted†gg5671
renounced
gg5673
gg5671
The barbarous†gg5672
uncivilised, rough, savage
purpose, and as freely†gg4014
willingly, unreservedly (OED adv, 1a)
left
gg5672
gg4014
Their money for that charitable use,
To which I pre-intended†gg5674
intended previously, ordained (OED: the earliest citation dates from 1636)
it. The rest
gg5674
In this odd uncouth†gg5675
uncertain; strange; distasteful (OED a, 1, 2 and 3)
way five hundred pounds*n8674
In today’s money, £500 would be worth around £42,900.
gg5675
n8674
To make an honest stock†gs1531
fund of money (OED n1, 47)
for Frank.*n8676
Dryground again refers to Frances as ‘Frank’; see [NOTE n5802] and [NOTE n7879] for further comment.
gs1531
n8676
975Valentine’Tis good;
I may fetch in my guests. In the meantime
You may be pleased, sir, to peruse this paper.*n8678
] Baper
[VALENTINE gives DRYGROUND the letter and] exit[s].*n8679
] Exit.
n8677
Valentine’s exit to fetch the characters that he has picked up during the course of Act 4 sets off the play’s final sequence, in which fifteen characters will eventually gather on the stage. Like many of Brome’s comedies, The Demoiselle finishes with a crowded sequence in which plots are resolved and reconciliations ensured. The ending of The Demoiselle is not as problematic as that of The New Academy, which it in some ways resembles, or as parodic as that of The Sparagus Garden, but it has a very uneven tone, and shifts between verse and prose. The revelations come thick and fast, but it does not necessarily seem exaggerated or farcical, and the comedy is leavened with pathos and wonder, especially surrounding the conversion of Vermin, Bumpsey’s very humane interventions, and the comic treatment of Magdalen’s repentance. See this extract from the workshop for a run-through from this line to the end of Dryground’s final speech [DM 5.1.speech1051]), which gives an impression of how it might work in performance. As in many of Brome’s large-cast scenes, management of the stage is crucial: see [DM 5.1.speech987] for detailed comment on the problematic stage direction.
n8678
n8679
n8677
for a run-through from this line to the end of Dryground’s final speech [DM 5.1.speech1051]), which gives an impression of how it might work in performance. As in many of Brome’s large-cast scenes, management of the stage is crucial: see [DM 5.1.speech987] for detailed comment on the problematic stage direction. My abused†gs1533
wronged, violated (OED a, 2); deceived
Eleanor, the hand†gs1534
handwriting (the word ‘hand’ influences the rest of the line, in which the handwriting is imagined as a physical hand that thrusts Eleanor away)
that threw
gs1533
gs1534
I could receive†gs1535
catch in my arms (OED v, 3b); give accommodation or shelter to (OED v, 11a); ‘to admit (a person) into some relation with oneself, esp. to familiar or social intercourse; to treat in a familiar or friendly manner’ (OED v, 8a); greet or acknowledge (OED v, 9a); take or accept (often used in the context of marriage) (OED 13a)
her!
gs1535
We come to sup†gg5318
eat supper
w’†gg5536
with
ye. Does your rifling hold?*n8684
That is: is your raffle going ahead?
gg5318
gg5536
n8684
978AmbroseWhat, you are off o’ the hooks,*n8685
In a bad way (OED hook n1, 15a); put out (OED hook n1, 15c: OED’s earliest citation is from 1662, but the sense may have been current at an earlier date); it is tempting to take the current meaning of ‘off the hook’ (OED hook n1, 15f), but OED dates the earliest usage to 1864). In any case, Ambrose seems to look around and see that there are no hoards of gallants waiting for the raffle. Brome also uses the expression in The Sparagus Garden, Act 5, Scene 1, in which Gilbert says, ‘are we no less sure that Sir Hugh Moneylacks will set his strength to lift Sir Cautious off o’the hooks, in hope of a matter of five pound, though he forfeit the obligation of his throat by’t?’ [SG 5.1.speech1048].
methinks.
n8685
980DrygroundYou shall know all, and briefly.†gg5676
soon (OED 2); in few words (OED 1)
Frank, come in.
gg5676
Enter FRANC[ES].*n8686
] Enter Franck. Frances elsewhere appears in the octavo’s stage directions as ‘Frances’, ‘Francis’, ‘Fran.’ and ‘Fra.’; this is the only time at which ‘Frank’ is used (apart from in Dryground’s dialogue). The move to ‘Frank’ would be more disorientating for a modern reader, as ‘Frank’ is often used as a woman’s name in early modern texts. See [NOTE n5802] for further discussion.
n8686
Now, gentlemen—
981OliverLet us salutegs1537
greet, hail, pay one's respects, honour (often with elaborate compliment, gesture or bow). The following dialogue suggests that Oliver greets Frances by kissing her: this may be on the mouth or on the hand. See [NOTE n94] on The Queen and Concubine’s stage directions for detailed discussion of the signification of such gestures, and A Mad Couple Well Matched [MC 4.1.speech730] for a similar example of saluting (see [NOTE n2104] and [NOTE n2105] for commentary and video clips). Brome also uses ‘Salute’ to indicate a kiss in The New Academy: see [NOTE n5147]. In this extract from the workshop on this scene, Oliver kisses Frances on the hand
her first.Salute, then whisper.n8687
Oliver’s use of the third person (‘She does not taste of sin!’ [DM 5.1.speech981] suggests that Ambrose may hear his exchange with Frances, but it is important that Dryground does not hear it. See this extract from the workshop, in which Oliver addresses Ambrose.
gs1537
from the workshop on this scene, Oliver kisses Frances on the handn8687
from the workshop, in which Oliver addresses Ambrose. She does not taste of sin!*n8688
] the octavo has the speech prefix ‘Dry.’ here, but it is clearly an error
Fair chastity
n8688
Sits crowned upon her brow,*n8689
A similar image of the visibility of chastity in a woman’s face can be found in ‘The Amorous Zodiac’ in George Chapman’s Ovid’s Banquet of Sense (London, 1595), which was reprinted in 1639:
with an aspect
n8689
All this fresh April, this sweet month of Venus,
I will admire this brow so bounteous:
This brow, brave court for love, and virtue builded,
This brow where chastity holds garrison,
This brow that (blushless) none can look upon,
This brow with every grace and honour gilded. (sig. F3v)
May beat down lust to hell, from whence it rose.
983OliverI vow, and do not lie to you, if I find
Which we have, at the signal of a finger,*n8691
That is, they will respond if Oliver makes a gesture with his hand.
n8691
Do you approve?
984FrancesYes, and admire your goodness.
986DrygroundThen hear the story
Which your late†gs1539
recent, former
impatience†gg2173
irritability, restlessness
would not permit.
gs1539
gg2173
987AmbroseYou speak not now
In that high phrase, or tone, as you did then.*n8694
Ambrose realises that Dryground is not speaking in the affected ‘high’ style that he adopted in his persona of Osbright in Act 3.
n8694
Enter VALENTINE [with] BUMPSEY, VERMIN, AMPHILUS, BROOKALL, ELEANOR [and] PHYLLIS.n8696
It is difficult for seven characters to enter quietly, and although Dryground and, perhaps, Frances may be aware of their presence, Oliver and Ambrose apparently are not. The location of the ordinary may help here, as a certain amount of bustle and to-and-fro might be expected. In this extract from the workshop the characters are brought on from two different entrances (the downstage one would not, of course, have existed at Salisbury Court, where The Demoiselle was first performed); they carry glasses and stand in clusters, with their backs to the Dryground-Frances-Oliver-Ambrose group. As this extract demonstrates, the entering group do not make themselves known until [DM 5.1.speech1008], when Alice enters and Vermin and Sir Amphilus are shocked into speaking aloud. I have therefore added ‘aside’ to the speeches of Valentine, Eleanor, Phyllis, Brookall and Vermin that follow over the next ten speeches. Some of these speeches might be self-directed, or addressed to other characters in the group.
*n8695
] Enter Valentine. Bumpsey, Vermine, Amphilus, Brookall, Elynor, Phillis. (in the octavo the stage direction appears in the margins of [DM 5.1.lines2759-2763])
n8696
from the workshop the characters are brought on from two different entrances (the downstage one would not, of course, have existed at Salisbury Court, where The Demoiselle was first performed); they carry glasses and stand in clusters, with their backs to the Dryground-Frances-Oliver-Ambrose group. As this extract demonstrates, the entering group do not make themselves known until [DM 5.1.speech1008], when Alice enters and Vermin and Sir Amphilus are shocked into speaking aloud. I have therefore added ‘aside’ to the speeches of Valentine, Eleanor, Phyllis, Brookall and Vermin that follow over the next ten speeches. Some of these speeches might be self-directed, or addressed to other characters in the group.n8695
988Valentine [Aside] Stand here, unseen, and hear attentively.†gg5678
‘with careful consideration; observantly’ (OED)
gg5678
(Heaven, Heaven I ask thee pardon) once did wrong
To an unfortunate family, by rejecting
After affiance,†gg4411
solemn engagement; esp. the plighting of troth between two persons in marriage, a marriage contract (OED 3)
and her love abused,†gs1540
misused, ill-treated, violated (Dryground strongly hints that he took advantage of the marriage agreement to have sex with Eleanor, and Oliver picks him up on this in his reply)
gg4411
gs1540
A gentlewoman—
990OliverYou got with child, and then denied her marriage.
991Dryground’Twas so.
993Valentine [Aside] No passion,†gs1541
expression of emotion; ‘A fit, outburst, or state marked by or of strong excitement, agitation, or other intense emotion’ (OED n, 6c)
gentle soul.
gs1541
994Phyllis [Aside] If this should prove my father now!
995OliverWell, sir, your gentlewoman!
996DrygroundShe, on the discontent*n8697
That is: on meeting with this cause of discontent or grievance (see OED discontent n1, 2).
(poor hapless†gg2288
unfortunate
soul),
n8697
gg2288
Now fourteen winters since,*n8698
Fourteen years is often the length of a period of separation or exile in Jacobean and Caroline plays: see Shakespeare and Wilkins’s Pericles (King’s Men, c. 1607-8), Middleton’s No Wit, No Help Like a Woman’s (?Prince Henry’s Men, c. 1611), William Rowley’s The Thracian Wonder (auspices uncertain, c. 1618?), Fletcher and Massinger’s The Double Marriage (King’s Men, c. 1620-1), Fletcher and Rowley’s The Maid in the Mill (King’s Men, 1623) and Ford’s Perkin Warbeck (Queen Henrietta Maria’s Men, c. 1633). Perhaps not coincidentally for many of these plays (including The Demoiselle), fourteen is often also the age at which many early modern commentators assume that women reach sexual maturity. In Marston’s The Malcontent (Chapel/Queen’s Revels, c. 1603), for instance, the bawd Maquerelle claims that Mendoza has declared that ‘at four, women were fools; at fourteen, drabs [whores]; at forty, bawds; at fourscore, witches; and a hundred, cats’ (George K. Hunter, ed., The Malcontent [London: Methuen, 1975], 1.6.34-6).
though sadly burdened,*n8699
That is, pregnant (with Phyllis).
n8698
n8699
Fled, and no more is heard of. At the first
My wildness took no sense*n8700
That is: had no feeling of (see OED sense n, 5); did not comprehend the general reaction to (see OED sense n, 18b, which includes ‘to take the sense of’ ‘to ascertain the general feeling or opinion of’: OED’s earliest example dates from 1653)
of this dear loss,*n8701
i.e. loss of something valuable; costly loss
n8700
n8701
But drew me through the ways of careless†gs1542
unconcerned (OED 2); inattentive, negligent (OED 3) (for Brome, the word ‘careless’ carries a large degree of moral opprobrium: see the name of the anti-hero of A Mad Couple Well Matched, George Careless)
pleasure,
gs1542
And credit†gs1543
financial credit: ‘Trust or confidence in a buyer’s ability and intention to pay at some future time’ (OED n, 9); reputation
ran at waste,*n8702
That is: were brought to ruin. ‘Waste’ is used to describe barren land (OED waste a, 1a), while ‘to run at waste’ is used figuratively to refer to the useless expenditure of wealth (see OED waste n, 10a: the phrase originally refers to the flowing of liquor so as to be wasted); Brome puns on all senses here
and was nigh†gs1544
nearly
spent,
gs1543
n8702
gs1544
Until my trespass†gg319
(n) offence (OED n, 1); minor violation of the law (OED n, 2); crime
cried against my conscience
gg319
To render†gs310
deliver
satisfaction.†gg276
penance, compensation, atonement
But in vain*n8703
fruitlessly, pointlessly
gs310
gg276
n8703
We offer*n8704
i.e. offer compensation; make offerings.
to the dead. My genius†gs1545
guardian spirit (thought in classical belief to govern someone’s fortunes and determine his character (OED 1); ‘Natural ability or capacity; quality of mind; the special endowments which fit a man for his peculiar work.’ (OED 4: the earliest citation dates from 1649, but it may be applicable here)
therefore
n8704
gs1545
Prompts me to grateful†gs1546
manifesting gratitude (OED 2); pleasing (OED 1)
deeds unto her blood.†gs1547
family, kindred
gs1546
gs1547
998DrygroundShe had a brother that lost his estate
By law—
999Brookall [Aside] Means he not me?
1000DrygroundTo a corrupt oppressor—
1002DrygroundWas stripped out of the very coat he wore,
Had nothing left him, but a son—
1003OliverWhat’s all this to your daughter?*n8707
i.e. what does this have to do with your daughter?
n8707
1004DrygroundEven all that may be. See: his son’s my daughter.*n8708
] Even all that may be; (see) His Sonne’s my Daughter. The octavo’s punctuation suggests that ‘see’ is delivered in a particular way, and that it is perhaps accompanied by the action of ‘Discover[ing]’ Frances’s true identity. For further comment on the stage direction and on ways of handing it in performance see [NOTE n8709] below.
Discover FRANC[ES].n8709
The revelation of Frances’s identity and true sex is similar to the coup de théâtre at the end of Ben Jonson’s Epicoene, originally performed by the Children of the Queen’s Revels in 1609-10, but revived in the 1630s, in which the ‘silent woman’ of the play’s subtitle is revealed to be a man. The stage direction directs Dryground to ‘discover’ Frances’s identity, and the most straightforward way of doing this would be to have him remove Frances’s wig. This would parallel the stage business in Jonson’s play, which includes the stage direction ’He takes off Epicoene’s peruke’ [wig]’ (L.A. Beaurline, ed., Epicoene [London: Edward Arnold, 1966], 5.4.182) at the point at which Dauphine reveals Epicoene’s true identity. A comparison also might be drawn with the stage business in Nathan Field’s Amends for Ladies (Queen’s Revels, c. 1611; published London, 1618), itself indebted to Epicoene, in which Frank, Ingen’s brother, is required to dress as a woman. Stage directions indicate that he enter ‘like a woman masked’ (sig. D2v) and ‘like a woman’ (sig. D4v), and his identity is finally revealed by Ingen: , Dryground (Mike Burrell) removes Frances’s wig with something of a flourish, and the other characters on stage gasp: the importance of this moment for the plot suggests that it should have as much impact on an audience as possible. It would be possible to register it still more through the reactions of the other characters, which are relatively muted here. The removal of a wig could also be paralleled in Dryground’s second revelation at [DM 5.1.speech1012] where the stage direction reads ‘Discovers himself.’
There may be other ways of revealing Frances’s true sex. In The City Wit, Brome has a boy disguised as a woman reveal his identity by revealing breeches under his petticoats [CW 5.1.speech955], but this is unlike the moment in The Demoiselle in that it is a carefully staged and symbolic revelation which comes out of an inset masque sequence. Modern productions might use hats, or items of female clothing which could be removed (the latter would have been hard to achieve in the Caroline theatre, as women’s clothing was complicated and often tightly laced).
n8708
n8709
No, behold, it is my younger brother dressed: PlucksInterestingly, the brother is not referred to as ‘Frank’ until later in the play, when he appears in man’s clothing. In this extract from the workshop
A man, no woman, that hath gulled the world, off his
Intended for a happier event headtire
Than this that followed. (sig. E1r)
, Dryground (Mike Burrell) removes Frances’s wig with something of a flourish, and the other characters on stage gasp: the importance of this moment for the plot suggests that it should have as much impact on an audience as possible. It would be possible to register it still more through the reactions of the other characters, which are relatively muted here. The removal of a wig could also be paralleled in Dryground’s second revelation at [DM 5.1.speech1012] where the stage direction reads ‘Discovers himself.’There may be other ways of revealing Frances’s true sex. In The City Wit, Brome has a boy disguised as a woman reveal his identity by revealing breeches under his petticoats [CW 5.1.speech955], but this is unlike the moment in The Demoiselle in that it is a carefully staged and symbolic revelation which comes out of an inset masque sequence. Modern productions might use hats, or items of female clothing which could be removed (the latter would have been hard to achieve in the Caroline theatre, as women’s clothing was complicated and often tightly laced).
A fair pull for*n8712
That is: a good shot at. The term is used in relation to card games (see Henry Burton, A Plea to an Appeal [London, 1626]: ‘Yea, all the cards in his hand are black, and he hath a fair pull to rub [...] but the mischief is, after much hard drawing, his ace proves a spade’ [sig. B3r]) and with sexual innuendo (see Williams 2: 1109, who cites Thomas Dekker’s II The Honest Whore [Prince Henry’s Men, c. 1605; published London, 1630]: ‘and when she’s ripe, every slave has a pull at her’ [sig. B3r]).
his father’s land again,
n8712
For he has, by a lawful†gs1548
legally qualified or entitled (OED 2a)
churchman,†gg5683
clergyman
married
gs1548
gg5683
The daughter of his father’s adversary.
Enter ALICE.
1008VerminMy daughter, ha!†gg2643
a versatile exclamation which can express surprise, wonder, joy, suspicion, indignation, etc., depending on the speaker’s intonation (OED int, 1)
gg2643
1009AmphilusMy sweetheart, ho!†gg5685
‘an exclamation expressing, according to intonation, surprise, admiration, exultation (often ironical), triumph, taunting’ (OED int1, 1); ‘a call to stop or to cease what one is doing’ (OED int2, 1)
gg5685
1010FrancesYour ‘ha’s and ‘ho’sn8713
That is: your exclamations of ‘ha!’ and ‘ho!’. See this extract from the workshop on this part of the scene.
cannot draw†gs1550
drag, pull; lure
her from me.
n8713
.gs1550
She is my wife.
1011VerminBy what witchcraft?†gg5686
black magic (OED 1); ‘Power or influence like that of a magician; bewitching or fascinating attraction or charm’ (OED 2)
gg5686
1012DrygroundBy stronger charms†gg5687
spells, enchantments; ‘any quality, attribute, trait, feature, etc., which exerts a fascinating or attractive influence, exciting love or admiration’ (OED n1, 3)
than your art†gs1551
cunning, skill
can dissolve.
gg5687
gs1551
You know me now, sir, and my project, do you not?Discovers himself.n8714
As suggested in [NOTE n8709], this revelation of identity might parallel that of Frances at [DM 5.1.speech1004]. In this extract from the workshop, having removed Frances’s wig Dryground now removes his own, to the general amazement of the other characters.
n8714
, having removed Frances’s wig Dryground now removes his own, to the general amazement of the other characters.
1013Oliver [and] AmbroseSir Humphrey Dryground!
1015EleanorO ’tis he, ’tis he![ELEANOR swoons.†gg5688
faints
]
gg5688
1016ValentineAlas, she swoons! [To DRYGROUND] Sir, cheer you up this lady,*n8715
That is: raise this lady’s spirits with cheering words (see OED cheer v, 10).
n8715
While I appease†gs1552
pacify, calm (OED v, 1)
the rest. [To AMPHILUS]n8716
This stage direction does not appear in the octavo: it is not altogether clear who Valentine addresses, but it could plausibly be Sir Amphilus, whose next line responds to Valentine’s ‘While I appease the rest’. See this extract from the workshop.
A word with you, sir.
gs1552
n8716
.
1018DrygroundMy love! My Eleanor!
1019BumpseySo, cheer her up Sir Humphrey! To her again,*n8717
‘To’ in this context means ‘towards’: ‘to her’ or ‘to him’ was used as an encouraging cry in hunting or fighting (OED prep, 25b); it is possible that Dryground has embraced Eleanor on [DM 5.1.speech1018], and that Bumpsey encourages him to embrace her again.
Sir Humphrey! Your son, and mine in law,*n8718
i.e. your son, and my son-in-law
has told me all your story, and reconciled your brother Brookall to you before your interview. I know all, the full point†gs803
proposition, idea (OED n1, 10a); main subject or focus of a discussion (OED n1, 10b); objective, aim (OED n1, 10c); conclusion (OED n1, 11)
and the whole substance,†gg4027
what the speech amounts to (OED 11a); essence (OED 14); puns on possessions, estate, fortune (OED 16)
*n8719
Bumpsey again, somewhat joyously, reworks one of his favourite phrases.
the flat†gg5689
(n) plainness, absoluteness
and plain†gg5690
(n) unambiguousness
of the business,†gs1553
affair (possibly with sexual innuendo: see Williams 1: 179-80)
and now I love these things again. How now, Sir Amphilus? Drowned in melancholy?†gs1554
sadness; ‘melancholy’ can also refer to ‘sadness giving rise to or considered as a subject for poetry, sentimental reflection, etc.’ (OED n1, 3d), so Bumpsey may be teasing Sir Amphilus about his poetic vein of Act 3
n8717
n8718
gs803
gg4027
n8719
gg5689
gg5690
gs1553
gs1554
1020AmphilusNo, but and†gg857
if
I were at the ducking-pond— I know what I know.n8721
This may be a veiled threat (a similar usage can be found in Brome’s The Lovesick Court [LS 1.2.speech91]; in this extract from the workshop it has something of this quality.
*n8720
] But and I were at the Duckingpond, I know what I know. It is difficult to make sense of the octavo’s punctuation, as ‘I know what I know’ does not seem to emerge logically from ‘and [if] I were at the ducking-pond’, and I have therefore re-punctuated the line to indicate that Sir Amphilus breaks off and then says ‘I know what I know’. It could be effective in performance to have Sir Amphilus be inarticulate with sorrow or rage at this point.
But when I drown myself, I’ll give you leave to hang me.*n8722
A typically nonsensical misuse of a cliché: if Sir Amphilus had drowned himself there would be no point in hanging him.
gg857
n8721
it has something of this quality.n8720
n8722
1021Alice [To VERMIN] Your pardon, and your blessing, I beseech you.
1022VerminHence.VALENTINE [exits].n8724
Valentine is directed to exit here in the octavo, and so it is not entirely clear whether Vermin’s ‘hence’ is directed at Alice or at Valentine. It seems more likely, however, that it is directed at Alice, especially as Vermin addresses the line ‘Away’ at her in [DM 5.1.speech1026] below. See this extract from the workshop on the scene.
*n8723
] Exit Valentine.
n8724
.n8723
1023BrookallWas this thy journey into France, my boy?
High†gs1555
great; divine, heavenly
Providence†gg2236
God (‘applied to the Deity as exercising prescient and beneficent power and direction’: OED n, 4); divine care or guidance (OED n, 3)
hath made it good. But tell me,
gs1555
gg2236
1024FrancesIndeed it was equal in her and me.
1025AlicePray, sir, your blessing.
1026VerminAway.
1027BrookallTurn this way for a blessing, then, my daughter.*n8726
That is: my daughter-in-law (Brookall’s phrasing is also a calculated snub to Vermin).
n8726
1028Bumpsey [To VERMIN] Shall I tell you, neighbour? Law has no relief for you, and conscience and you have a long time been strangers. Could you be friends and embrace conscience now, all would be well. And there’s the substance.†gs1556
what the speech amounts to (OED 11a); essence (OED 14)
Is it plain?
gs1556
1029VerminConscience! Do you know where she is?
1031WatSir, if you can forgive, and can obey you—
I now can better kneel than speak—*n8729
Wat is apparently weeping throughout this speech (as the stage direction indicates), which explains its incoherence; the dash after ‘obey you’ appears in the octavo.
He weeps.
n8729
1032ValentineDo you note those tears, sir? Had you lost your daughter,
My father had in this made you amends
In finding you a son. His art converted him.
1033VerminSure, all’s but apparition,†gs1557
illusion
or a dream.*n8730
This appears to be the point at which Vermin begins to soften in his attitudes towards his son and daughter.
gs1557
n8730
1034BumpseyHa! Think you so? ’Tis your own flesh and blood. And by your leave and liking,*n8731
i.e. with your permission and approval.
may prove as honest a man as his father.*n8732
This may be said with some irony.
Is not this plain†gs775
evident, obvious (OED a1, 7); simple, clear, unambiguous (OED a1, 9); free from ambiguity, straightforward, direct, blunt (OED a1, 12)
now? Forgive and bless ’em all over, and so kiss ’em too. They are your children.
n8731
n8732
gs775
1035MagdalenO my dear Bump!n8733
Magdalen’s speech to Bumpsey introduces a comic note after the potential pathos in Wat’s reconciliation with Vermin. See this extract from the workshop on this scene.
Art thou there? Thou may’st kiss and forgive me all over too, for any harm†gg5692
damage, mischief
or dishonesty,†gg5693
dishonour, disgrace (OED 1); lewdness, unchastity (OED 2)
though the place be as they say—*n8734
i.e. even though the ordinary is a brothel.
At a word,†gs1347
to speak plainly, to be honest (can also mean ‘in short’ or ‘briefly’)
Bump, thou may’st believe me, I came but to learn carriage of the body,*n8736
Bodily deportment; sexual activity (Magdalen picks up her own innuendo in the rest of the speech).
nor to carry nobody’s body, but my own body, Bump. No truly, truly, Bump. Oh! Oh! That ever I did that!*n8737
As if I would ever do that!
n8733
.gg5692
gg5693
n8734
gs1347
n8736
n8737
1036BumpseyPeace, peace. All’s well. At least I know your disease.†gs1558
ailment, malady (OED n, 2); morbid condition of the mind (OED n, 3)
gs1558
1037MagdalenThink me not drunk, good Bump. A little fashion-sick,†gg5388
made sick by fashion; compare Thomas Bancroft, ‘To London in Time of Pestilence’, in Two Books of Epigrams and Epitaphs (London, 1639):
or so.
gg5388
the roaring boys I see
Put women down with man-less luxury,
Still to be fashion-sick, and drink, and swear,
And rage, as if they Stygian monsters were (sig. G1v)
1038AmphilusFashion-sick! A fine civil†gg4691
educated; well-bred; refined, polished, ‘polite’ (OED a, 9)
word. To be drunk is fashion-sick.
gg4691
Of avarice.†gg3886
greed, desire to acquire and hoard wealth (OED)
Blessed may our friendship be.*n8738
This is probably addressed to Dryground and Brookall, but it may be directed to Bumpsey, who has consistently cajoled Vermin to adopt better behaviour throughout the play.
gg3886
n8738
1040DrygroundI will not sleep before the holy priest
Has done the office.*n8739
That is, performed the ceremony of marriage.
Blessing on my girl!*n8740
i.e. Phyllis
n8739
n8740
Val, thou hast made me young again, the best
1041ValentineThey do not yet cease here. For, see, the strife
Betwixt these long-continued adversaries
The young and hopeful†gg3892
promising, ‘giving promise of success or future good’ (OED a, 2a)
married pair their blessings.
gg3892
1042AmphilusTo which I have given my consent most freely,
1043ValentineThey are beholden†gs1559
obliged (probably said with some degree of irony)
to you. Master Vermin
gs1559
Restores unto the son the father’s land
The convertite†gs1563
convert
here, that if he stand firm*n8741
Remain steadfast (i.e. not relapse into dissolute behaviour).
gs1563
n8741
Till the determination†gg5698
termination, bringing to an end (OED 1)
of your mortgage,†gg5018
loan secured against property (in this case, Dryground's estate)
gg5698
gg5018
1044WatThat’s sure enough. But, sir, the other business.†gs806
affairs, concerns, tasks to attend to
gs806
1045DrygroundWhat’s that?
1046ValentineThe most to be admired of all.
He loves my sister here, and has done long,*n8742
This seems an exaggeration, given that the events of the play have taken place during one day, and Wat and Phyllis only met in Act 4.
n8742
But now that he perceives her worth (being yours)
And since you promised him your daughter too,*n8743
Dryground promised that Wat could marry his fake daughter Frances (which was, of course, impossible for a number of reasons); Valentine here substitutes his newly discovered real daughter.
n8743
He makes it his fair†gs1564
honourable
suit.†gs992
petition, specifically in the courtship of a woman (OED n, 12)
gs1564
gs992
1047DrygroundI’ll talk with his father.
And Wat, stand you but firm, and live reformed,
Winning my daughter’s love, you shall have mine.
1048PhyllisThat Fortune is not blind,*n8744
This contradicts the cliché which asserts that Fortune is blind.
that showed me way*n8745
i.e. the way
n8744
n8745
1049DrygroundThis binds us all into a brotherhood.
1050BrookallAnd with a brother’s love*n8746
That is: the love of a brother-in-law (as Dryground will now marry Eleanor, Brookall’s sister).
I now salutegs1565
greet; honour (this statement may be accompanied by a bow or another physical gesture, possibly an embrace, if Dryground’s line [DM 5.1.speech1051] is direct response to Bumpsey’s: see this extract from the workshop on this scene)
you.
n8746
gs1565
) Create the heart of friendship, not the face.*n8747
That is: genuine friendship, not merely the appearance of friendship.
n8747
Come, gentlemen, your ordinary†gs1568
puns on two meanings of ordinary: the eating/drinking establishment, and the meal served there
stays,†gs579
awaits
gs1568
gs579
And acceptable to each welcome guest.
Epilogue
1052EpilogueNo way ambitious yet of vulgar†gg5700
common, general; uncultured (OED a, 13: the earliest example cited for the latter is from 1643, but it may have been in use earlier)
praise,
gg5700
The writer of these scenes desires to know,
By your fair leave,*n8748
with your gracious permission
though he assume†gs1567
claims, wears
no bays,†gg2728
a wreath of laurel or bay leaves: an emblem of victory or of distinction in poetry
n8748
gs1567
gg2728
Whether he pulled fair for a leaf,*n8749
That is, made a good attempt to get at least a leaf from the wreath.
or no.*n8750
not
n8749
n8750
T’ encourage*n8752
to encourage
him to climb Apollo’s tree.*n8753
This is the laurel tree on which the leaves that make up the poet’s wreath of ‘bays’ grow.
n8752
n8753
Edited by Lucy Munro