ACT THREE*
n7217
This central act is all one flowing scene. There are a great many characters and small vignettes as the audience effectively sees different aspects and angles of The Asparagus Garden, its visitors, the tenant-managers, and their respective desires and issues. One of the best ways to think about Brome's dramaturgy here is in terms of dance: this is a carefully choreographed sequence involving different groupings of couples, trios, and quartets. That the scene embeds references to dance at its heart underscores this reading. In terms of staging it is very simple, as befits maintaining the flow between the different compositional moments in the social 'dance' it represents. The only props necessary to have onstage or bring onstage at some point would be the table with requisite drinks and food (not least asparagus) for the scene between Gilbert, Walter and Samuel in which they discuss Sir Arnold Cautious, whose arrival they are awaiting. Otherwise all the required properties would appear to be handheld, such as the gardener's tools, the money which changes hands at various points during the scene, and of course the aspragus spears being consumed at various times. The scene is also important for the ways in which it invites the audience to imagine the offstage space, just out of sight. The scenes onstage all take place outdoors in the garden and arbours of the 'hotel'; what the audience has to imagine as characters enter the stage is where they have been in the various bedrooms and chambers of the building, and what they have been up to while there. The act opens with new characters and a deal of exposition to manage. The Gardener and his Dutch wife Martha (who presumably speaks in a heavily accented way to make sense of these references to her nationality and her Dutch way of doing things, not least totting up the bills) are the tenant-managers of the Asparagus Garden. It is Martha, the named half of the couple, who appears to have the most agency in that it is she who greets guests and assigns them rooms and also she who reckons the totals and deals with the finances. The gardener appears to concentrate rather more on growing the produce to feed the guests - not only asparagus but also strawberries, presumably to sell later in the year when the asparagus season is over. He also indulges in growing cut flowers in particular tulips which were considered a major retail commodity in the 1630s. All of this is alluded to in the opening exchange between the couple. Then we begin to meet various guests or incomers to the Garden (which, as the introductory essay to this play examines, was based on real life pleasure gardens along the sides of the River Thames at this time). One Gentleman and his female companion complain about the price they have had to pay for room and food, railing against Martha's 'Dutch accounting' which refuses to provide an itemised bill, only a reckoned total which is usually reckoned in her favour. Brome had made comparable attacks on pricing regimes in taverns and inns in The Weeding of Covent Garden. Gilbert, Walter and Samuel (now in disguise as a poetical soldier) arrive. Martha seems disappointed that they do not have any women with them since that will limit what they spend. She therefore declares the hotel itself full and insists they eat outside. Gilbert and Walter are much put out by what they see as an insult to their status and there is much happenstance allusion to issues of rank in this scene. In some respects the Asparagus Garden acts as a social leveller akin to the forest of Arden in Shakespeare's As You Like it or perhaps even more pertinently, the innhouse in Jonson's The New Inn, a site where people of many social stations gather and temporarily intermingle. The serving boy has great fun being rude to Gilbert and Walter suggesting they must be French to challenge the price of wine and asparagus. A pleasurable exchange follows in which the three male friends playfully describe Walter's lecherous uncle, Sir Arnold Cautious, who is the main reason they have come here (we have already learned from Martha that Cautious likes to hang around the property and leer at the beautiful young women who visit). Cautious is allergic to marriage, convinced that all women are corrupt, sexually and morally. In an hilarious inset performance Gilbert performs the 'character' of Sir Arnold, which is fun for the audience who can then, when he finally appears onstage, measure the reality against the role-play. The scene also helps to establish the deep friendship and understanding between this particular male grouping. These are rather different to the usual 'roaring boys' of Brome's city comedies and, since they effectively drive the (very complicated) plot, it is important that the audience gets the measure of this in order to be able to read the tone of other scenes and exchanges accurately. Cautious enters and is quickly inveigled into a marriage plot. Told by Gilbert that Walter is anxious to marry someone, he is asked to intervene on his nephew's behalf (he will be told that the object of Walter's affection is Annabel Striker).
The young men also stage a mock-fight between Walter and 'Bounce', the name rapidly assumed for Samuel's disguise as the poetical soldier, after Bounce takes physical umbrage at something Cautious has said. The audience knows the fight to be 'staged' because they have shared the friendly intimacies of this group only moments earlier. The staged fight makes Walter look heroic for saving his uncle and so Cautious agrees to act on his behalf to secure the match to Annabel Striker. These characters exit and the next vignette is of six courtiers (three male, three female) who are feasting on asparagus. They suggest a dance in the gardens, which creates for an intriguing little exchange. Brome is renowned for being a non-courtly writer, but several of his plays are clearly influenced by courtly theatrical culture not least the masque to which dancing was central. Here he seems to mock the courtly excesses of language in the structured exchanges between this group. The next set of charaters to appear includes Sir Hugh Moneylacks and his 'gull' Timothy Hoyden and his servant Coulter, as well as Rebecca and John Brittleware, whose reasons for coming to the Garden were made clear to the audience in the second act. Rebecca's cravings for sexual satisfaction and a resulting pregnancy seem greater than ever and she and John swiftly exit to their hired room to dine on asparagus and hope that its aphrodisiac qualities, as cited by Sir Hugh, work. Moneylacks has brought Timothy Hoyden here to enjoy a city diet of asparagus following his purging experiences, which have obviously happened offstage in the interim between the second and third acts. Tim, presumably looking pretty bedraggled and confused by this stage, explains what he has been put through and how he has been starved so that he is famished and ready to spend anything to get access to food (theatregoers might well compare him to Bartholomew Cokes in Jonson's 1614 play Bartholomew Fair who is steadily stripped of all his belongings and his dignity by the more savvy Londoners who work the fair at Smithfield). One hundred pound of his personal money has already gone on clothes and a further hundred on food. Coulter meanwhile is growing ever more suspicious and shares several cynical asides with the audience in this scene. As a result Moneylacks conpires to have him dismissed from Tim's company and Coulter leaves the stage with the typically biting dialect assertion of 'a vart for a varewell'.
The Brittlewares return to the stage, with John in particular looking and sounding exhausted. Presumably there is also some comic mileage in performance in that he hasn't been gone that long - the sexual act is over all too quickly for Rebecca, as she makes clear in her statement 'you have not done your part, John'. We have a kind of stage forerunner here of the Restoration poetic subgenre of poems of sexual disappointment and premature ejaculation, examples of which were published by Lord Rochester and Aphra Behn among others. Rebecca declares that she will resort to adultery if necessary and torments John with descriptions of what she will do. The couple briefly stand aside to witness some other guests converse - this time, a Gentleman and a city wife, though not his wife it seems, who are altercating with a servant or employee of the Garden. The servant complains that they have underpaid (adding to the audience's sense that the underlying rhythms and themes of this central act are money, sex, and consumption). There is more dialogue on the price fixing tendencies of resorts such as the Asparagus Garden but it also becomes clear that the city wife is reluctant to complain lest her adulterous behaviour in coming here becomes public. This is why Martha can charge such high prices - she can rely on the wishes of her clients to keep their illicit practices private and therefore pay up rather than face the humiliations of the small claims court.
Moneylacks and company now return with Martha as well. Rebecca stresses that she is still dissatisfied. Martha pays Sir Hugh for his good work in gathering guests for her and a kind of female bonding occurs between her and Rebecca to close the scene. It is interesting that the act ends as it began on a note of female agency, which is not insignificant in terms of an overall understanding of this play and where the real social dynamics are being created and fostered.
n7217
3.1
Enter GARDENER and MARTHA, his wife.*n6114
The gardener is never given a name in the play and we were intrigued in the workshops at the power dynamic this creates. Martha, his named Dutch wife, is clearly in control of the happenings, financial and otherwise, in the Asparagus Garden resort.
n6114
412GardenerPray, let’s agree upon’t, good wife – you are my wife
n7243
What we explored in the workshopping of this section Act 3 was the way in which exposition might be played. Jeremy Lopez has recently argued that such heightened exposition scenes were such a common convention on the early modern stage that it behoves us to consider the audience pleasure involved in recognising the dramatist's tricks in this way (esp. 2003, Chapter 4, pp. 78-81). We played around with the lines here seeing how far we could ask the actors to go in being explicit about the expostory nature of certain lines which give details of Martha's Dutch origins and the nature of their joint employment at the Asparagus Garden itself .
, I take it, and I should have the command*n6115
Following on from the power dynamic created by the decision only to give Martha a first name, the Gardener draws attention to the fact that his wife is very much in control of the business and the marriage, against assumed conventions.
, yet I entreat*n7222
deal with you. The gardener is making the point that in a traditional marriage he should have the command but instead he treats his wife equally, if not allowing her control. This is another example of marriage in the play, one that contrasts sharply in some ways with the dysfunctional and sometimes painful exchanges between Rebecca and John Brittleware. In that respect we could see this as a model of a Protestant companionate marriage - Martha's Low Countries origins would signify that she was a Protestant exile to early modern audiences. Yet in another sense this is another version of a marriage in which the female partner has all the agency and this may explain the bonding that takes place between Martha and Rebecca when they meet onstage at the end of the scene. As the workshopping of this section with actors Philip Cumbus and Olivia Darnley as the Gardener and Martha respectively indicated there are a number of ways of playing this scene.
and am content you see.
n7243
. n6115
n7222
413Marthan6116
Several references are made in this act to Martha's Dutch provenance. Unusually for Brome who tended to indicate linguistic difference phonetically in his playtexts, there is no textual marker of how Martha's lines might be delivered differently as a result. Nevertheless we were fortunate enough to have a performer in the workshops, Olivia Darnley, who, after a period in a play called Vincent in Brixton, had experience of delivering lines in a Dutch accent, and it became clear after a morning working in accent how that helped both to differentiate Martha from the Londoners in the scene as the dialogue dictates but also how it gave a particular rhythm to the distinct vocabulary and idiom of her lines (several terms, for example, I have been unable to locate in the OED; these may be Brome coinages to suggest linguistic difference or indicators of Dutch loan-words in early modern English at this time) .
[Speaking in a heavy Dutch accent throughout] And so would any man I think that has such a help and comings in by his wife as you have: ’tis not your dirty ’sparagus,*n6117
Asparagus was often regarded as a 'dirty' vegetable because it thrived in manure patches and indeed was traditionally grown in the Lambeth Marshes region of London in this period where it benefitted from the barrowloads of human manure that was brought out of the city each morning on handcarts. Steggle notes that Gerard made reference to this in his Herbal where he describes 'manured or garden Sperage' (Steggle, 2004: 79). This all serves t create a strange blend between the sexual and the excretory in the associations of asparagus in the play.
your artichokes, your carps, your tulips*n6118
Tulips had obviously Dutch connotations as do many of the other things grown or produced in the Gardener's plot - carp were a mainstay of the Dutch diet at this time, for example, and strawberries, then as now, grew well in the Low Countries. Ironically though tulips could well have been as big a money-spinner for the couple as asparagus in the 1630s when 'Tulipomania' had hold and bulbs were being sold for the equivalent of thousands of pounds on the European market. Eventually this bubble would burst with spectacular financial results and the ruin of many investors but in 1635-6 when this play was first performed the frenzy to collect tulips was still gathering momentum (Steggle, 2004: p. 76; Pavord, 1999: 114-16).
The best-known English gardener at this time was John Tradescant and it is possible that audiences would have seen a link between this onstage couple and Tradescant and his wife whose Lambeth property was a place of resort partly due to the museum they had established there. He was also strongly linked to the interest in rare tulips species at this time.
, your strawberries, can bring you in five hundred pound a year if my helping hand, and brain too, were not in the business.
n6116
. n6117
n6118
414GardenerLet us agree upon’t: and two or three years toil more while our trade is in request and fashion will make us purchasers*n6119
i.e. will make us property owners ourselves. The implication is that they are only tenants of the Asparagus Garden rather than owners of the plot. Interestingly, this adds to the community of tenants and lodgers that seems to populate this play and suggests the codependency of many living arrangements in the fast growing London of the 1630s. An alternative reading might be that the fashion for asparagus and tulips will bring in buyers but in view of the play's emphases elsewhere on tenants and lodgers as a key aspect of London living at this time, my instinct leans towards the former reading.
. I had once a hope to have bought this manor of marshland*n6120
This reference gives us the clear indication that the Asparagus Garden is located somewhere such as Lambeth or Deptford Marshes where asparagus was grown in the 1630s. It also links this landscape to the East Angliah fens where much land was being reclaimed for farming crops and for London property owners such as the Earl of Bedford by the controversial process of fen drainage. That much of this work was carried out by Dutch engineers adds to the layered references here and accounts for the topical edge of the presence of Dutch people in London and the southeast at this time.
for the resemblance it has to the Low Country soil you came fromn6121
A reference to Martha's Dutch origins, which may also have been signified in the accent of the boy actor delivering her lines. The Low Countries are, as their name suggests, low lying and in large part land reclaimed from the sea. The Gardener compares the Thamesside marshlands to this geography. In the clip you can see an attempt to play up this double meaning although, as the subsequent discussion reveals, in the end both actors and spectators felt the scene worked better when not heavily emphasised in this way .
– to ha’made you a Bankside lady*n6122
The surface meaning of this is that, by purchasing land, in the Bankside area of London the gardener hoped to make a lady of his wife. There is a double meaning to the phrase 'Bankside lady', however, which early modern theatre audiences would have recognised, which was 'prostitute'. There is a sense in which the couple have had to prostitute themselves and others for financial gain in the operations of the Asparagus Garden.
. We may in time be somewhat. But what did you take yesterday, Mat? In all, what had you, ha?
n6119
n6120
n6121
.n6122
415MarthaPoor piddling doings; some four and twenty pound.
416GardenerWhat did the rich old merchant spend upon the poor young gentleman’s wife in the yellow bedchamber?
417MarthaBut eight and twenty shillings, and kept the room almost two hours. I had no more of him.
418GardenerAnd what the knight with the broken†gg4133
bankrupt (OED 7)
citizen’s wife that goes so lady-like in the blue bedchamber?
gg4133
419MarthaAlmost four pound.
420GardenerThat was pretty well for two.
421MarthaBut her husband and a couple of servingmen had a dish of ’sparagus and three bottles of wine, besides the broken†gg4134
fragments (usually of leftover food, OED 1b)
meat, into one o’the arbours.
gg4134
422GardenerEverything would live*n6285
Proverbial (Dent).
, Mat. But here will be great courtiers and ladies today, you say?
n6285
423MarthaYes, they sent last night to bespeak a ten pound dinner, but I half fear their coming will keep out some of our more constant and more profitable customers.
424Gardener’Twill make them the more eager to come another time then, Mat. Ha’they paid their reckoning†gg2898
account, computed sum owing or due to someone; used especially of a bill at a tavern, but here implying a paying-back or settling of differences between parties (OED vbl. n, 3a and 5)
in the parlour?
gg2898
425MarthaYes, but hutchingly*n6123
grudgingly (though there is no record of this term in the OED). This may be an example of a loan-word from Dutch included to indicate Martha's status as an incomer to the city to the audience.
, and are now going away.
n6123
GENTLEMAN and Gentlewoman [enter] to them.
426GardenerOh, here they are going!
427GentlemanI protest, Master Gardener, your wife is too dear*n6124
The very personal terms in which people describe their debts to Martha does appear to continue the association of her trade with a form of prostitution begun with the gardener's own 'Bankside lady' reference earlier. For actors there is a question as to how knowingly to point up all this innuendo. We found the scene played well in different tones, but was completely different in effect.
. Sixteen shillings for a dish of ’sparagus, two bottles of wine, and a little sugar? I wonder how you can reckon it.
n6124
428MarthaThat was your reckoning†gg2898
account, computed sum owing or due to someone; used especially of a bill at a tavern, but here implying a paying-back or settling of differences between parties (OED vbl. n, 3a and 5)
in all, sir; we make no account of particulars*n6131
This system of refusing to itemise bills and only offering an overall reckoning is heavily criticized throughout the act that takes place in the Asparagus Garden. Brome also attacked unduly heavy prices in ordinaries and taverns in the The Weeding of Covent Garden so it was clearly a popular concern at the time of these plays. See Kaufmann, 1961: 71-2.
, but all to mall*n6125
all in one overall sum; a version of the Dutch 'allermaal' meaning 'all at one' (the phrase appears to link to a German or Low Countries term for a general assembly, so here the general assembly of sums owed). In February 1634 a royal proclamation had attempted to set limits on the prices that could be charged in taverns and alehouses (CSPD CCXX, Charles I, 1633-4, p. 462), but by not presenting an itemised bill Martha can circumvent the law. Brome made similar attacks on the high prices being charged in taverns and ordinaries in The Weeding of Covent Garden (McClure, 1980: 409; Kaufmann, 1961: 71-2).
as they do in the Netherlands.
gg2898
n6131
n6125
429GentlemanYour Dutch account*n6287
Quite literally the Dutch way of reckoning bills, but there is a latent xenophobia that should not be ignored. The heavy presence of Dutch engineers in London in the 1630s due to the fen drainage schemes that characterised the decade was the subject of ballads and social satire.
, mistress, is too high for us to trouble you any more.
n6287
430MarthaThat’s as you please, sir. A fair day after you. GENTLEMAN [and Gentlewoman exit]. Who would be troubled with such pinching†gg4135
mean, niggardly (OED adj.)
guests?
gg4135
431GardenerAye, tis good to misreckon such to be rid of ’em.
432MarthaThey are e’en as welcome as the knight that comes hither alone always and walks about the garden here half a day together to feed upon ladies’ looks as they pass
to and fro; the peeping knight, what do you call him?
433GardenerOh, Sir Arnold Cautious*n7223
We will see this character later in the scene but not until after a second narrative portrait has been painted of him by his own nephew Walter which confirms his reputation for lechery and spying on women.
.
n7223
434MarthaYou may call him Cautious – I never saw five shillings of his money yet.
435GardenerNo, he comes but to feed his eyes, as you say, with leering at good faces and peeping at pretty insteps.
436MarthaSir Hugh Moneylacks, our gather-guest*n7224
This phrase was also used in Act One and describes how Sir Hugh Moneylacks has effectively been hired by Martha to bring clients to the Garden. She pays him in return for the increase in profits he helps to deliver. This whole scene is punctuated by the rhythms of monetary transactions.
as we call him sends us no such dull customers. Oh, that good gentleman! Never did any tavern, inn, or new ordinary†gg4137
an inn or tavern at which a meal (usually also called an ordinary) was served
*n6126
Also the subtitle of Brome's play The Demoiselle. Along with earlier allusions in Act 1 to Jonson's play The New Inn Brome seems to be interested in other plays from this period that use a central inn or gathering place for guests as their focal setting.
give tribute†gg4136
tax, usually paid by one state to another
to a more deserving gentleman – oh, here come gallants.
n7224
gg4137
n6126
gg4136
GILBERT, WALTER, and SAMUEL (disguised) enter to them.
Three, and ne’er a woman? Strange! These are not the courtiers we look for.*n6127
Martha is only interested in those who will pay for rooms at a high price to service their sexual encounters with women. Three men alone represent poor takings to her.
n6127
438GilbertThis is his daily haunt. I warrant thee we find him.
439WalterAnd it shall take, ne’er fear it, Sam.
440GilbertBy your leave, master and mistress, or rather lord and lady of the new plantation*n6128
Gilbert's language here creates a sense of the Asparagus Garden as a new colony or settlement. It also continues the notion of confused ownership begun by the Gardener and his wife's earlier discussions about their desire to become landowners and 'purchasers' (for a useful discussion of the confused issues of landrights raised in this exchange, see Steggle, 2004: 76-7).
here.
n6128
441WalterNay, prince and princess of the province*n6129
This term would conjure up further Dutch associations with the United Provinces.
of Asparagus.
n6129
442SamuelThe island of two acres here more profitable than twice two thousand in the fens till the drainers have done there.*n6130
A direct allusion to the Dutch engineers currently draining the fens in accordance with Caroline land policies. Cornelius Vermuyden, who led the drainage projects in Cambridgeshire on behalf of Charles I and the Earl of Bedford (who was also responsible for property in the Covent Garden region of London) was also involved in schemes to drain London marshland so the topic would have resonances very close to home for some members of the audience. Fen drainage would become one of the major grievances around questions of common rights and local privileges as the decade progressed.
Some critics have extrapolated from this that the Asparagus Garden was situated across the Thames from Whitehall on boggy or marshy land that resembled the East Anglian fens or the Somerset Levels.
n6130
443MarthaYou are pleasant, gentlemen. What is your pleasure?
444GilbertSaw you Sir Arnold Cautious here today?
445MarthaNot yet, sir.
446GilbertHa’you a room i’your house for us?
447MarthaHave you any more company to come to you?
448WalterYes, we expect some gentlemen.*n6132
Not the answer Martha was looking for since it reduces the likelihood in their case of making lots of money from men anxious to pursue illicit sexual affairs in her hired rooms.
n6132
449MarthaGentlemen did you say?
450GilbertYes, indeed, gentlemen; no gentlewomen I assure you.
451MarthaIn truth, sir, all the rooms within are gone.
452GilbertWhat they are not gone abroad, are they?
453MarthaYou are always pleasant, sir: I mean they are all taken up.
454GilbertThere are some taken up in’em, is’t not so?
455MarthaStill you are pleasant, sir: they are indeed bespoken for great courtiers and ladies that are to dine here.
456GardenerIf you will bestow yourselves in the garden and make choice of your arbour you shall have the best cheer the house can afford ye, and you are welcome.
457GilbertBe it so then; let’s walk about, gentlemen.
Pray send us some wine.
458Walter.And a dish of your ’sparagus.
459MarthaYou shall have it, gentlemen.[GARDENER and MARTHA] Exit.
460GilbertDid you note the wit o’the woman?
461WalterAye, because we had no wenches we must have no chamber-room for fear she disappoint some that may bring ’em.
462SamuelShe spake of great courtiers and ladies that are to come.
463WalterSome good stuff perhaps?
464GilbertWhy, I assure you, right noble and right virtuous persons, and of both sexes, do frequent the place.
465SamuelAnd, I assure you, as ignoble and vicious do pester it too much; and these that respect profit merely have not the wit and less the virtue to distinguish betwixt the best and the worst*n6133
Walter and the others are clearly offended at Martha's lack of interest in their business and scorn her capitalist approach to relationships. There is, however, a pomposity in their attitude that is equally apparent to any audience.
, but by their purses.
n6133
466Walter’Tis enough for them to weed their garden not their guests – Oh, here comes our collation†gg3227
light meal
.
gg3227
Two boys enter; they cover a table, [and set down] two bottles of wine, dishes of sugar, and a dish of asparagus.
467GilbertAnd what’s the price of this feast, boy?
468BoyPlaist ill, monsieur.*n6134
A parodic version of the French 'S'il vous plait, monsiuer'. The boy explains why he mockingly speaks French in the lines immediately following.
n6134
469GilbertWhat, art thou a Frenchman?
470BoyNo, I took you for one, sir. To bargain for your meat before you eat it, that is not the generous English fashion. You shall know anon ,sir.*n6135
i.e. you will be told the price at the end, sir. This is another example of the unfair pricing regime in the Asparagus Garden (although it should be added that few are dissuaded from being seen in this ultra-fashionable place as a result and Brome makes his own social commentary in this also).
n6135
471GilbertGo get you gone with your wit, and tell your prodigal fools*n7225
i.e. individuals who are excessive or wasteful with their wit (Gilbert is in a slightly oblique manner trying to insult the boy for his presumption in mocking him - as with the exchange earlier with Martha in this scene, he seems acutely sensitive to his sense of status being challenged in any way).
so.
n7225
472WalterGo, we’ll call when we want attendance.[The] BOY [exits].
473GilbertSamuel, you are too sad; let not your disguise alter you with us. Come here’s a health to the Hans in Kelder*n6136
i.e. the child that Annabel is purported to be expecting. The phrase is a version of the Dutch 'Jack in the cellar' (a modern equivalent would be a phrase such as 'bun in the oven').
, and the mother of the boy, if it prove so.
n6136
474SamuelI’ll pledge it.
475WalterWe want Sir Hugh Moneylacks here to discourse the virtues of this precious plant asparagus and what wonders it hath wrought in Burgundy, Allemagne*n6137
Germany
, Italy, and Languedoc before the herborists had found the skill to plant it here.
n6137
476SamuelWhat’s he to whom we seek?
477WalterWho mine uncle, Sir Arnold Cautious? He’ll come, ne’er doubt him. He seldom misses a day to pry and peer upon the beauties that come to walk here.
478GilbertTis such a knightling, I’ll but give ye his charactern6139
There was a trend for publishing collections of 'characters' such as these; see, for example, Wye Saltonstall, Picturae loquentes; or Pictures drawne forth in characters (London, 1635). What was brilliant in the workshopping was the way that the actors brought this 'character' to life through performance and interaction, helping in the process to establish the close-knit friendship between this young male grouping .
and he comes I warrant thee*n6138
What might easily be passed over on the page as a brief description of a character just prior to their entrance onstage became in the workshopping process a wonderful opportunity to play out the dynamic between these young male friends as Gilbert 'performed' his description to the others, who in turn provided a willing and responsive audience. There are obvious influences here from Jonson's fondness for playacting young gallants in plays such as Epicoene.
. He is an infinite admirer of beauty and dares not touch a woman: he is aged about fifty and a bachelor: he defies wedlock because he thinks there is not a maidenhead in any marriageable beauty to be found among women.
n6139
.n6138
479SamuelYet you say he is an admirer and hunter after the sight of beauty?
480GilbertHe gets a crick in his neck oft-times with squinting up at windows and balconies; and as he walks the streets he peeps on both sides at fair breasts and faces as he were seeking birdsnests; and follows pretty feet and insteps like a hare trackern7226
A hare tracker would have tracked the object of his prey via his pawprints; Cautious pursues his female prey in a similar manner .
.
n7226
.
481WalterThis is still mine uncle!
482GilbertAnd when he sees a coach of ladies about to alight, he makes a stand in hope to see a delicate leg slip through a laced smock†gg3378
a common shift or undergarment
, which if he chance to discover he drivels.
gg3378
483SamuelWell, how your plot may hold to my purpose I cannot see: he is the unlikeliest man to have a wench put upon*n6289
McLure (1980) glosses this as 'be taken in by a low woman'.
that you can mention.
n6289
484GilbertI grant the attempt is hard but the higher will be the achievement. Trust my experience, Sam, for as in every instrument are all tunes to him that has the skill to find out the stops*n6140
Compare Hamlet, 3.2.356-7: 'You would seem to know my stops'.
, so in every man there are all humours to him that can find their facets and draw’em out to his purpose.
n6140
485WalterFear not the plot as we have cast it, nor the performance in the comedy, though against mine own natural uncle.
486GilbertThy unnatural uncle thou wouldst say! He ne’er did thee good in’s life. Act but thine own part and be not out, Sam, and fear nothing.
487WalterHe’s somewhat too young to act a roarer†gg478
a noisy, riotous bully or reveller; a wild roisterer; the term was particularly associated with tavern culture in the Caroline period (OED, 1b)
, but what lads have we seen pass for soldiers?
gg478
Three COURTIERS and LADIES enter [with Sir Arnold] CAUTIOUS [standing] aloof.
488SamuelOh, here come the great guests.
489GilbertAnd these are nobles ones, indeed; these are courtiers clinquant†gg1343
glittering with gold or silver (OED a and n)
and no counterfeit stuff upon ’em. I know’em all. Every lady with her own husband too: what a virtuous honest age is this! And see if thine uncle be not at his old game Bo-peep i’the tail of’em*n7227
i.e. pursuing women from behind. The image is oddly sexual and oddly comic. Cautious is like a shepherd who follows behind his sheep but this also suggests that he is leering at the women's backsides in the process.
. He shall follow’em no further: [Moving away from SAMUEL and WALTER and towards CAUTIOUS] Sir Arnold Cautious, noble knight you are well encountered.COURT[IERS] and LADIES exit.
gg1343
n7227
490CautiousGood Master Goldwire, do you know these ladies; or be they ladies, ha?
491GilbertYes, and noble ones, the three Graces*n6141
Aglaia, Euphrosyne and Thalia who were meant to be the personification of grace and beauty.
of the Court: the Lady Stately, the Lady Handsome, and the Lady Peerless; do not you know’em?
n6141
492CautiousNo, not I.
493Gilbert [Aside] How the slave twitters! [To CAUTIOUS] You look not up at greatness, you mind too much the worldly things that are beneath you: if you had such a lady under you (of your own I mean) you would mind her.
494CautiousOh fie, fie, fie.
495GilbertLook no more after’em, they are gone; besides they are virtuous, and too great for you. When will you get a convenient wife of your own to work out the dry itch of a stale batchelor?
496CautiousGo, go, you are a wag. I itch not that way.
497GilbertWill you go this way with me then and hear what I will say to you?
498CautiousWith all my heart, I am free from business.
499GilbertYou have a nephew whose sister I married, a virtuous wife she is, and I love him the better for’t. He is a younger brother and born to no great fortune. Now you are very rich, a bachelor, and therefore I think childless –
500CautiousIn troth, Master Goldwire, you must pardon me, I may not stay with you: I had almost forgot a most important business.
501Samuel [Aside to WALTER] E’en now he had none.
502GilbertNay, good Sir Arnold Cautious, you know not what I’ll say.
503CautiousI say he is an unthrift, a squanderer, and must not expect supplies*n7228
i.e. financial support
from me.
n7228
504GilbertHe does not, shall not, not to the value of a token*n7229
A token was a small object sometimes given in personal exchange as a pledge. Gilbert's meaning here is that walter expects not even this from his uncle.
: pray stay and hear me, sir; tis no ill air to stay in.
n7229
505CautiousAye, with all my heart good Master Goldwire, I like the air well, and your motion†gg941
formal proposal or request (OED n. 13b)
hitherto.
gg941
506GilbertWill you be pleased to do your kinsman the favour to further him in a match? I mean an honest lawful marriage match ― but with your countenance and a good word at most.
507CautiousThe most unthankful office in the world: pray use some other friend in’t. Indeed I stay too long.
508GilbertHear but who it is that he loves, how likely he is to obtain, what abundant profit the match may bring him, and the desperate undoing danger he falls into if he be not matched, and then do your pleasure.
509CautiousWhy what new danger is he towards, more than the old ill company he was wont to keep?
510GilbertOh, sir, he is now in league with a companion more dreadful than ’em all, a fellow that is in part a poet and in part a soldier.
511CautiousBounce, bounce.
512GilbertYou have hit upon his name: his name is Bounce*n6142
Gilbert improvises this in the moment.
, do you know him, sir?
n6142
513CautiousNot I, nor desire acquaintance with either of his qualities.
514GilbertHe is a gentleman, sir, that has been upon some unfortunate late services*n6290
i.e. military services
that have not answered his merit.
n6290
515CautiousAnd now he is come home to right himself by writing his own meritorious acts, is he?
516GilbertGood in troth, I wish you would see ’em, to come over ’em with a jeer†gg4848
(n) disparaging remark
or two; I know you are good at it. They are in an arbour here close by, drinking to their muses, and glorifying one another for either’s excellency in the art most poetically.
gg4848
517CautiousGlorify do you say? I have heard poets the most envious detractors of one another of all creatures next to the very beggars.
518GilbertAbroad perhaps and asunder, but together there’s no such amity. You never saw ’em drink; pray see ’em, sir, it may take your nephew off of his ningle†gg4188
close male friend, confidant (but also used in derogatory way to suggest a subservient homosexual lover)
*n6292
Cf. Ben Jonson's Epicoene, 1.1.22-3: 'What between his mistress abroad and his ingle at home . . .'.
, who hath infected him with poetry already. And twenty to one, if he fail in the match which I was about to mention he will win him away to the wars too, and then he may be lost for ever.
gg4188
n6292
519CautiousGood Master Goldwire, go you to your company. I am not a man of reckoning†gg4138
reputation
amongst such; besides I seldom drink betwixt meals.
gg4138
520Walter [Aside to SAMUEL] At his own cost he means.
521GilbertI commend your temper: you shall not be in the reckoning*n6143
in the business, part of the business. Brome is playing throughout this scene with the multiple meanings of 'reckoning' and its cognate words and phrases.
. But I beseech you, let me prevail with you: see, we are upon ’em. [To SAMUEL and WALTER] Save you, gentlemen. I have brought you a noble friend, your uncle. I know he is welcome to you brother Walter; and you I am sure will make him so, Master Bounce, when you shall hear he is an admirer of poetry and war.
n6143
522CautiousEven afar off I assure ye: I never durst approach near the fury of either of the fiery qualities.
523SamuelIt is your modesty not fear that keeps you at distance I imagine.
524CautiousPoets may imagine any thing: imagination is their wealth. Some of ’em would be but poor else. [To WALTER] Are you turned poet, nephew?
525WalterFor my private recreation, sir.
526CautiousWhat by writing verses to win some mistresses to your private recreation, mean you so?
527SamuelYou dare not, sir, blaspheme the virtuous use
Of sacred poetry, nor the fame traduce
Of poets, who not alone immortal be,
But can give others immortality.
Poets that can men into stars translate,
And hurl men down under the feet of Fate:
’Twas not Achilles’ sword, but Homer’s pen
That made brave Hector die the best of men:
And if that powerful Homer*n7230
Greek author classical texts of love and war such as The Iliad. Samuel is using some fairly hyperbolic comparisons for his situation befitting the kind of Petrarchan lover he is playing at this moment.
likewise would
n7230
Helen had been a hag and Troy had stood*n6144
Helen of Troy was, of course, reckoned to be the most beautiful woman in the world. Troy and the wars raged over it was the setting for Homer's epic The Iliad.
.
n6144
528GilbertWell said, poet, thou tumblest out old ends as well as the best of ’em.
529SamuelPoets they are the life and death of things,
Queens give them honour, for the greatest kings
Have been their subjects.
530CautiousEnough, enough; you are the first good poet that e’er I saw wear so good a countenance. Leave it, I would not have a gentleman meddle with poetry for spoiling of his face: you seldom see a poet look out at a good physiognomy*n6293
Q (visnomy)
.
n6293
531SamuelThink you so, sir?
532CautiousYes, and that is a poetical policy: where the face is naturally good without spot or blemish, to deface it by drinking or wenching, to get a name by’t . . .
533SamuelA death deserving scandal.
[SAMUEL and CAUTIOUS] scuffle
534GilbertHold, hold.
535SamuelThy malice, and thy ignorance
Have doomed thee.*n6253
In a modernised text this slightly odd lurch by Samuel (and subsequently Walter) into versification could be smoothed out by turning it into prose, but here it seems an indicator of the performative nature of their quarrel so I have retained it to suggest a slightly hyperbolic mode of delivery.
WALTER throws SAMUEL and offers to stab him.*n6145
This is all a very carefully managed stage fight, of course.
n6253
n6145
536GilbertGentlemen, what mean ye?
GILBERT holds his dagger.
537WalterMy blood must not endure it.
538GilbertYou have wronged us all and me the most.
539WalterThe wrong is chiefly mine; yet you add to it
By hindering my just vengeance.
541Walter [Calling after SAMUEL] My next sight of thee is thy death:
[To CAUTIOUS] I fear you are hurt, sir; are you? Pray, sir, tell me.
542CautiousLet me first admire thy goodness and thy pity:
My own true natural nephew.
543Gilbert [Aside] Now it works*n7231
The resemblance to the Careless scam in A Mad Couple Well Matched is noticeable here.
!
n7231
544CautiousI now consider and will answer thee
In a full measure of true gratitude.
545WalterBut, good sir, are you not hurt? if you bleed, I bleed with you.
546CautiousOh, sincere nephew, good boy, I am not hurt,
Nor can I think of hurt. My thoughts are bent
Upon thy good; [To GILBERT] You were speaking of a choice, sir,
My nephew would be matched to; let me know the party.
547GilbertWill you, sir, stand his friend?
548CautiousLet me but know the party and her friend,
And instantly about it.
549Gilbert [Aside] He is catched.
550WalterHow am I bound to you?
551CautiousNephew, I am yet bound to thee and shall not rest till I am disengaged by doing this office for thee: what is she, let me know?
552GilbertSir, as we walk you shall know all; I’ll pay the reckoning†gg2898
account, computed sum owing or due to someone; used especially of a bill at a tavern, but here implying a paying-back or settling of differences between parties (OED vbl. n, 3a and 5)
within as we pass.
gg2898
553CautiousBut by the way, nephew, I must bind you from poetry.
554WalterFor a wife you shall, sir.
555GilbertPoetry, though it be of a quite contrary nature, is as pretty a jewel as plain dealing*n6294
Proverbial (as Gilbert goes on to suggest).
, but they that use it forget the proverb.[GILBERT, WALTER and CAUTIOUS] ex[it].
n6294
Three COURTIERS and three LADIES enter [feasting on asparagus].
5561 CourtierCome, madam[s], now if you please after your garden
To exercise your numerous*n7233
That is: many. This is why I have amended 'madam' to 'madams' here, since the references appear to be plural.
feet and tread†gg4845
(v) step (as in a dance or measure)
n7233
gg4845
A curious knot*n7232
Dance movements were often modelled on geometric patterns at this time and the knot was a recognised formation. There is a double reference here however in that small courtly gardens were often set out in intricate knot patterns too.
upon this grassy square;
n7232
You shall fresh vigour add unto the spring,
And double the increase, sweetness and beauty
Of every plant and flower throughout the garden.
5571 LadyIf I thought so, my lord, we would not do
Such precious work for nothing; we would be
Much better huswifes†gg1940
a pejorative term for a hussy or worthless woman (OED housewife n. 2)
and compound†gg2814
(v) strike a deal
for shares
gg1940
gg2814
O’th’ gardener’s profit.
Our ’sparagus dinner reckoning†gg2898
account, computed sum owing or due to someone; used especially of a bill at a tavern, but here implying a paying-back or settling of differences between parties (OED vbl. n, 3a and 5)
.
gg2898
5592 CourtierI commend your worldly providence†gg2149
foresight, preparation for the future (OED n. 2); divine care or guidance (OED n. 3)
:
gg2149
Madam, such good ladies will never dance
Away their husbands’ lands.
5601 CourtierBut, madams, will ye dance?
5611 LadyNot to improve the garden, good my lord;
A little for digestion, if you please.
5621 Courtier [Calling to offstage musicians] Music, play.They dance*n6147
This interlude in which three male courtiers dance with three female courtiers has been seen by some, such as McClure (1980) as mere theatrical ornamentation, yet it does deliberately bring courtly conventions into the heart of the Asparagus Garden by reproducing elements of a masque in this way. In Brome's play all sections of society fall prey to the magnetic allure of the fashionable resort. On the symbolism of early modern courtly dance steps, see Ravelhofer (2006). Jonson's plays share this understanding of the courtly aesthetics and symbolic practice of dance and may well be the direct influence for Brome's treatment of the topic here.
.
n6147
5631 CourtierYou have done nobly, ladies, and much honoured
This piece of earth here with your graceful footing.
5641 LadyBy your fair imitation, good my lords.
5651 CourtierMay the example of our harmless mirth
And civil recreation purge the place*n6255
The excesses of courtly discourse are gently parodied in the hyperboles of this exchange where the mere act of dancing it is suggested will 'purge' the ground of its (presumably lower-class) associations. This is an interesting variation on the earlier uses of 'purge' in scenes involving Tim Hoyden.
n6255
Of all foul purposes.
5661 LadyTis an honest wish:
But wishes weed no gardens*n7235
Brome had of course himself used this imagery and idea as the title for his play The Weeding of Covent Garden punning on the place-name and the site's former existence as a convent garden.
. Hither come
n7235
Some wicked ones they say.
Nor can their ill hurt us. We are safe.
5681 LadyBut let us walk, the time of day calls hence.
5691 CourtierAgreed.[The COURTIERS and LADIES] ex[it].
MONEYLACKS, [Timothy] HOYDEN, SPRING, BRITTLEWARE, REBECCA, [and] COULTER [enter].
570MoneylacksYou are now welcome to the Asparagus Garden, landlady.
571RebeccaI have been long a-coming for all my longings, but now I hope I shall have my belly full*n6295
Both in the sense of having a full stomach from eating and being pregnant.
on’t.
n6295
572MoneylacksThat you shall, fear not.
573RebeccaWould I were at it [at] once.*n6256
Literally 'I wish I could be eating asparagus immediately' but with an obvious double entendre on the sexual act. This kind of layered joke continues throughout the scene and characterises Rebecca's discourse throughout the play.
n6256
574MoneylacksWell, because she desires to be private, go in with your wife, Master Brittleware, take a room, call for a feast, and satisfy your wife, and bid the mistress of the house to provide for us.
575BrittlewareI will, sir.BRITTLEWARE [and REBECCA exit].
576MoneylacksAnd how do you feel yourself, Master Hoyden, after your bleeding, purging, and bathing, the killing of your gross humours†gg222
mood, temper, attitude, frame of mind
by your spare†gg4177
abstinent, self-denying (OED, adj.)
diet and your new infusion of pure blood by your quaint feeding on delicate meats and drinks? How do you feel yourself?
gg222
gg4177
577HoydenMarry, I feel that I am hungry and that my shrimp diet and sippings†gg4846
mere tastes of something
have almost famished me, and my purse too. ’Slid I dare be sworn, as I am almost a gentleman, that every bite*n6258
Pearson; bit (Q)
and every spoonful that I have swallowed these ten days has cost me ten shillings at least.
gg4846
n6258
578SpringIs it possible that you consider this and be almost a gentleman?
579HoydenSmall acquaintance, I do not lie to you: truth’s truth as well in a gentleman as a beggar, or I am both almost and perhaps not the first that can write so.
580SpringDo you note how his wit rises?
581HoydenThere’s one of my hundred pounds gone that way, all but these twelve pieces†gg80
of gold or silver, i.e. money (OED n. 1b)
.
gg80
582CoulterYou see now what a fine hand you have made of your money, since you got it out of my clutches?
583HoydenThen, there’s my apparel, a hundred pound went all in three suits, of which this is the best.
584SpringBut what do you think of your wit hundred pound*n6259
i.e the hundred pound you invested in purchasing 'wit'
?
n6259
585HoydenMarry, I think that was the best laid out. For by it I have got wit enough to know that I was as clearly cozened†gg1611
beguiled, deceived
out of it as heart can wish. Oh my soul and conscience, and as I am almost a gentleman, and*n7237
if
a man had come to London for nothing else but to be cheated, he could not be more roundlier†gg4847
thoroughly
rid of his money.
gg1611
n7237
gg4847
586MoneylacksWell, sir, if you repine†gg4178
to feel or manifest discontent or dissatisfaction (OED, v.)
at your expenses now that you want nothing but your bellyful of ’sparagus to finish my work of a gentleman in you, I will, if you please, in lieu of that stuff up your paunch†gg4179
stomach (OED, n.)
with bacon and bag-pudding†gg4180
a pudding boiled in a bag and often served with bacon (usually made from sausage meat stuffed into a bag made from intestines, as is the case with haggis)
*n6262
Foodstuffs meant to indicate a rural diet as opposed to the fine dining of a city gentleman on which Hoyden is being encouraged to spend his savings.
and put you back again as absolute a clown as ever you came from plough.
gg4178
gg4179
gg4180
n6262
587CoulterI would here come to that once.
588Spring [To HOYDEN] Take heed how you cross him.
589HoydenNay pray, sir, be not angry, though to the shame of a gentleman I say it, my teeth do even water at the name of the sweet country dish you spoke of (bacon and bag-pudding*n6262
Foodstuffs meant to indicate a rural diet as opposed to the fine dining of a city gentleman on which Hoyden is being encouraged to spend his savings.
) yet I will forbear it: but you say I shall fill my belly with this new
daintrel*n6263
Daintrill (Q)
†gg4181
a dainty or delicacy (now obsolete)
that you spake of – these sparrowbills*n6264
This is Hoyden's confused version of 'asparagus' though it should be noted that a popular name for the vegetable was 'sparrowgrass', a kind of Englishing of the term, so his linguistic confusion is less extreme than it might at first seem to modern ears. It just suggests that Hoyden is more used to speaking in a colloquial idiom than the fashionable city discourse that Moneylacks is presumably seeking to 'train' him in (for a fee!).
, what do you call’em?
n6262
n6263
gg4181
n6264
590MoneylacksYou shall have your bellyful.
591HoydenTop full, I beseech you.
592CoulterHumh –
593MoneylacksYou shall. But I must tell you, I must ha’ you turn away this grumbling clown that follows you: he is as dangerous about you as your father’s blood was within you to cross and hinder your gentility.
594HoydenTrue. You said you would help me to a boy no bigger than a monkey*n6265
Aristocratic women in the 1630s were apt to hire and be painted with dwarfs in imitation of Queen Henrietta Maria who employed her own court dwarf, Sir Jeffrey Hudson. Hudson features in several Caroline court masques and was painted alongside Henrietta Maria in a Van Dyck portrait of 1633 when he was just fourteen years old. In the same portrait (now held in the National Gallery of Art in Washington DC) Hudson holds his pet monkey Pug. Some interpretations of the image suggest that Henrietta Maria's visible stroking of the pet is symbolic of erotic passions. Certainly this kind of portraiture created a vogue both for keeping monkeys as pets and the presence of dwarfs and children in households and there are several related references in plays by James Shirley and others to the fashions of female portraiture.
?
n6265
595SpringAnd you shall have him, a pretty little knave, you may put him in your pocket.
596CoulterYes wus, to pick’s money out if he had it. Shortly, ’twill
come to that, bevore’t be long.
597HoydenCoulter, you must to the plough again; you are too heavy a clog*n6296
A weight or hindrance, but with an allusion to wooden rustic shoes, traditionally worn by agricultural workers.
at the heels of a gentleman.
n6296
598CoulterAye, with all my heart, and I con you thanks*n6266
That is: give you thanks too (dialect) (OED con v, 1).
too.
n6266
599HoydenThe clown, my father’s heir will be glad of you.
600MoneylacksHave you an elder brother?
601HoydenYou do not hear me say he is my brother. But the clown my father had a former son by a former wife that was no gentlewoman as my mother was and he is a clown all over, and incurable even get you to him*n7238
i.e. incurable even were you to get to him and try to train him as a gentleman. This is very unusual phrasing probably idiomatic to suggest Tim Hoyden's provincial discourse.
. Like to like will agree well. [Hands COULTER some money.] Here’s a crown†gg2902
a coin (once gold, subsequently silver) to the value of five shillings (its spending power in terms of the currency of 2009 would be £21.45p)
for you; ’twill carry you afoot to Taunton. And so, get you gone, like a clown as you are.
n7238
gg2902
602Coulter’Tis well you allow me some money yet. We shall have you beg all the way home shortly when your cheaters have done wi’ye.
603MoneylacksHow, villain!
604SpringWhy do you not correct him, sir?
605CoulterNay, why do not you? He dares not. Though he could spare his clown blood, he dares not venture his gentleman blood so; nor you yours, tis all too fine I doubt. Therefore keep it, make much on’t: I would be loath a jail should stay my journey or by my cursen†gg4182
Christian (dialect)
soul I would see what colour the best on’t were before I go. But if I don’t your errand to your brother*n7239
i.e. don't take news of what you are doing to your brother. Again the unusual phrasing here is suggestive of idiomatic provincial discourse.
and tellen
how you do vlout’n behind’s back, then say cut’s a cur. And so a vart vor a varewell to the proudest o’ye; and if you be an angered, tak’t in your angry teeth.[COULTER] Exit[s].
gg4182
n7239
606Spring [and] MoneylacksHa, ha, ha!
607SpringWhat a rude rascal ’tis! You are happy that he is gone.
608MoneylacksAnd so am I; he hindered half my work. Seven years’ time is too little to make a gentleman of one that can suffer such a clown within seven mile of him.
609HoydenWould he were beyond Brentford*n6267
Now part of West London, in the 1630s Brentford was a suburb to the west of the city, eight miles from Charing Cross. It stood at the confluence of the Rivers Thames and Brent and was best known as a site of leisure trips and sexual assignations in this period.
on his way then by this time for me. But you forget the way you were in; you said you would fill my belly and then fall to practice fine compliments and congees†gg1747
ceremonial bow (usually as a leavetaking)
to make me a perfect gentleman and fit to see my unknown uncle.
n6267
gg1747
610MoneylacksAll shall be done.
BRITTLEWARE and REBECCA enter to them.
611HoydenSee if my surgeon and his wife have not filled themselves, and come wiping their lips already*n6268
Presumably this is an implied stage direction that the Brittlewards should be wiping their mouths as they re-enter the stage.
?
n6268
612MoneylacksSo shall you presently. Now, landlady, are you pleased with your asparagus?
613RebeccaWith the asparagus I am; and yet but half pleased neither as my husband shall very well know.n7244
In workshopping this scene (with Olivia Darnley as Rebecca and Philip Cumbus as Brittleware) we explored the cruelty embedded in her taunting of her husband's sexual failures and apparent impotency here .
n7244
.
614MoneylacksWell, we will leave you to talk with him about it. Come, sir, let us into the house.[MONEYLACKS, HOYDEN and SPRING] ex[it].
615BrittlewareBut half pleased, sweetheart?
616RebeccaNo indeed, John Brittleware; the asparagus has done its part; but you have not done your part, John*n6269
The implication is that John has suffered a bout of impotency in the highly public arena of the Asparagus Garden and been unable to perform the sexual act that Rebecca his wife so craves.
, and if you were an honest man, John, you would make Sir Hugh’s words good of the asparagus and be kinder to me. You are not kind to your own wife, John, in the asparagus way, you understand me. For aught I see pompeons*n6270
pumpkins
are as good meat for such a hoggish thing as thou art*n6271
As with the bacon and bag-pudding that Hoyden is associated with in this scene, Rebecca invokes a whole class system or hierarchy of food in this statement. Whereas asparagus is considered rare fine dining and carries an appropriate pricetag, pumpkins and squashes are regarded more as food for pigs.
.
n6269
n6270
n6271
617BrittlewareWell when we come at home, Beck, I know what I know.
618RebeccaAt home, is’t come to that? And I know what I know: I know he cannot love his wife enough at home that won’t be kind to her abroad. But the best is I know what my next longing shall be.
619BrittlewareMore longings yet! Now out of the unsearchable depth of woman’s imagination, what may it be?
620RebeccaIt begins to possess me already, still more and more: now tis an absolute longing, and I shall be sick till I have it.
621BrittlewareMay I know it forsooth? Tell it that you may have it.
622RebeccaI dare tell it you, but you must never know that I have it.
623BrittlewareIf you dare, tell it.
624RebeccaDare? Nay be as jealous as you will, thus it is: I do long to steal out of mine own house unknown to you, as other women do and their husbands ne’er the wiser, hither to this same ’Sparagus Garden and meet some friend that will be kind to me*n6272
That is: that will sleep with me and impregnate me.
.
n6272
625BrittlewareHow, how?
626RebeccaIn private, unknown to you, as I told you. ’Tis impossible I shall ever have a child else and you so jealous over me as you are!
627BrittlewareArt thou a woman and speak this?
628RebeccaArt thou a man five years married to me and aske me now if I be a woman?
629BrittlewareArt thou so full of the devil to fly out in this manner?
630RebeccaWhy his horns*n6273
i.e the devil's horns - picking up on Brittleware's preceding line, though Rebecca's line also conjures the image of the cuckold's horns (supposedly visible on the forehead of men who had been sexually deceived by their wives) which her described actions would effectively label Brittleware as wearing.
fly not out of me to fright thee, do they?
n6273
631BrittlewareOh, for a hell that has not a woman in’t!
A GENTLEMAN and a CITY WIFE enter, [embracing and kissing all the while].
632RebeccaLook you there, John Jealousy, there’s an example before your eyes if nothing hang i’your sight*n6274
That is: if nothing obscures your view (with the implication that his 'cuckold's horns' might do just that).
. There you may see the difference between a sour husband and a sweet natured gentleman! Good heart, how kindly he kisses her! And how featly†gg4183
fitly, aptly, elegantly (OED adv. and a.)
she holds up the neb†gg4184
beak or bill of a bird (also used figuratively therefore for the mouth)
to him! Little heart! When will you be so kind to your own wife, John?
n6274
gg4183
gg4184
633BrittlewareIs that his wife, think you?
634RebeccaNo, no, I know her. ’Tis Mistress Hollyhock*n6275
A hollyhock is a tall, often brightly coloured garden flower which may give some indication as to how the boy actor in this role might appear.
, the precise†gg2870
puritanical (from being scrupulous in religious observance)
draper†gg4185
one who made woolen cloth
’s wife. Oh, how my longing grows stronger in me. I see what shift†gg3794
movement (sometimes with a sexual meaning)
soever a woman makes with her husband at home, a friend does best abroad.
n6275
gg2870
gg4185
gg3794
A SERVANT enters to the [GENTLEMAN and the CITY WIFE. REBECCA and BRITTLEWARE stand aside].
635ServantIndeed my mistress will not take this money, there wants two shillings*n6276
i.e. there are two shillings owing in payment of the bill.
.
n6276
636City WifeWhy, is my piece†gg2873
coin, usually gold, and at this date the equal of twenty-two shillings (the spending worth in today's currency would be £94.38p.)
too light*n6277
'Light' coinage (i.e. in terms of weight) could be a sign of forgery or counterfeit.
?
gg2873
n6277
637ServantToo light for the reckoning†gg2898
account, computed sum owing or due to someone; used especially of a bill at a tavern, but here implying a paying-back or settling of differences between parties (OED vbl. n, 3a and 5)
, mistress. It comes to two and twenty shillings, and this is but twenty.
gg2898
638GentlemanUnreasonable! How can she reckon it?
639ServantI know what you had, sir, and we make no bills*n6278
Another reference to the Asparagus Garden's refusal to provide itemised bills to guests, only Martha's (often exorbitant) overall 'reckoning'.
.
n6278
640GentlemanWell fare the taverns yet that though they cozened†gg1611
beguiled, deceived
never so much would down with it one way or other and their Jacks go again*n7240
i.e. would make money one way or another. This is another reference to the current scandal of price fixing in taverns and alehouses that Brome comments on not only in this play but also The Weeding of Covent Garden.
. Now tell your mistress, and that will hinder her somewhat.
gg1611
n7240
641ServantNot a jot, sir.
642GentlemanThen tell her the Countess of Copthall*n6279
McClure suggests in his edition that this was a reference to a notorious prostitute of the day. The Gentleman is suggesting Martha will lose business due to her underhand dealing with customers such as himself (she, of course, relies on the wish of those engaging in illicit sexual affairs not to make a fuss and so keep their activities private). Certainly Copthall is in Barnet, a then suburb of North London that had been the setting for Ben Jonson's 1629 play The New Inn. It featured a tailor's wife, Pinnacia Stuff, who performed the role of a countess in order to enjoy fetishistic sexual intercourse with her husband, a London tailor, at the Barnet inn which forms the centre of the play.
is coming to be her neighbour again and she may decline her trade very dangerously*n6280
i.e. the loss of income from this person could prove fatal to the business.
.
n6279
n6280
643ServantMy mistress scorns your words, sir.
644GentlemanYou rogue!
645City WifeNay, sweet cousin, make no uproar for my reputation’s sake*n6281
This proves Martha's assumption correct that her guests would rather settle exorbitant bills than have their sexual assignations made public by entering any form of legal disputation.
! Here, youth, there’s two shillings more; commend me to your mistress. [The CITY WIFE and Servant] exit together.*n9777
Ex. ambo. (Q). Compare 1.1.13 where a speech prefix suggested 'Ambo' meant characters spoke together. Here they exit together. I have indicated that only the city wife and the servant exit at this point since there is a further exit at 3.648 and this cannot refer to either Rebecca or Brittleware since they appear in the dialogue in the sequence immediately following.
n6281
n9777
646BrittlewareShe pays the reckoning†gg2898
account, computed sum owing or due to someone; used especially of a bill at a tavern, but here implying a paying-back or settling of differences between parties (OED vbl. n, 3a and 5)
it seems.
gg2898
647RebeccaIt seems then he has been kind to her another way*n6282
That is: he has satisfied her sexually.
.[The GENTLEMAN and the CITY WIFE] ex[it].
n6282
MONEYLACKS, HOYDEN, SPRING, [and] MARTHA [enter].
648MoneylacksHow is’t? I hope you are not wrangling now but better pleased than so?
649RebeccaNo, no, Sir Hugh, tis not the ’sparagus can do’t, unless the man were better.
650HoydenBut may I now be confident that I am almost a gentleman?
651SpringWithout that confidence you are nothing.
652MoneylacksThere wants nothing now but that you may learn the rules and rudiments†gg4186
first principles of a branch of knowledge or art
, the principles and instructions, for the carriages, congees†gg1747
ceremonial bow (usually as a leavetaking)
, and compliments which we’ll quickly put into you by practice.
gg4186
gg1747
653HoydenAnd then the spending the little rest of my money and I am a clear gentleman and may see my uncle.
654MoneylacksRight, right.
655HoydenAnd I will write it, and crowd it into as many bonds as I can a purpose to write, gentlemen. Timothy Hoyden of Taunton – no, of London, gentleman. London is a common place for all gentlemen of my rank, is it not?
656SpringExcellent, do you not mark how finely he comes on?
657Hoyden [To MARTHA] But, as I hope to live and die a gentleman, Mistress What-she-call, your reckoning†gg2898
account, computed sum owing or due to someone; used especially of a bill at a tavern, but here implying a paying-back or settling of differences between parties (OED vbl. n, 3a and 5)
was devilish dear: ’sdaggers, three pound for a few cuckoo-pintles†gg4191
penises (of men or animals)
? They were no better, I think.
gg2898
gg4191
658SpringNow you fall back again and derogate†gg174
detract from
from the condition of a gentleman most grossly to think anything too dear you eat or drink.
gg174
659HoydenPox on’t, I had forgot.
660MoneylacksWhen he has his rules and principles, which must be his next study, he will remember.
661HoydenPray, let’s about it quickly.
662MoneylacksNow we’ll go; [To MARTHA] But you forget me, mistress?
663MarthaNo indeed, Sir Hugh, here’s two pieces†gg2873
coin, usually gold, and at this date the equal of twenty-two shillings (the spending worth in today's currency would be £94.38p.)
for last week and this.
gg2873
664MoneylacksTis well. [To BRITTLEWARE and REBECCA] Landlord and landlady, will you go?
665BrittlewareWould you would long to be at home once!
666RebeccaSo I do, perhaps, and to be here again and there again and here and there and here again and all at once.
667BrittlewareHey kicksey-winsey†gg4187
a whim or erratic fantasy; a fantastic device (OED n. a and adv.)
.
gg4187
668RebeccaAnd I do long to go to Windsor*n6283
Town in South-East England close to London, long associated with royal progresses and sojourns.
too to know if the prophecy be as true there as ’tis reported here.
n6283
669MarthaHow did you hear it goes forsooth?
670RebeccaThat all old women shall die and many young wives shall have cuckolds†gg1331
man with an unfaithful wife, traditionally thought of as having horns on his head
to their husbands.
gg1331
671MarthaI heard forsooth that all young wives should die that were pure maids when they were married.
672RebeccaAnd none other?
673MarthaSo report goes forsooth.
674RebeccaYou speak very comfortably. It may be a long journey to the world’s end yet.
675BrittlewareIt seems you are not proscribed by the prophecy then?*n6284
i.e. Brittleware seems to discover at this point that his wife was not a virgin when he married her.
n6284
676RebeccaI thank my destiny.
677HoydenMy first work when I am complete gentleman shall be to get them a child and make ’em friends.
678MoneylacksA most gentlemanly resolution.
679RebeccaAnd truly the city is much bound to such well affected gentlemen.[MONEYLACKS, MARTHA, BRITTLEWARE,
REBECCA, SPRING and HOYDEN] ex[it].
REBECCA, SPRING and HOYDEN] ex[it].
Edited by Julie Sanders