173PhilomelHere in this gallery,n8784 gentlemen, you may at your pleasure, until my lady comes, walk or sit.

174Court-witOr lie down if you please.

175PhilomelIf you so, wrong not my lady’s couch with your spurs,n10231 I pray: take heed you leave not a rowelgg4682 there.

176Swain-witIf one should, your lady has no lord to call her honour to question, whose knighthood it belonged unto.

177PhilomelYou have a good country wit, sir.

178Swain-witMy name is Swain-wit; and for all you twitgg4683 me with the country, I am a gentleman tho’.n7028

179PhilomelI honour you the more, sir, for I am a country maid myself.

180Swain-witThou art a baggage,gg294 and a bold one: I am deceived else. I would be further acquainted with you tho’.
[SWAIN-WIT and PHILOMEL] kiss, [pro]long[edly].n9200

181[Cit-wit]n10226Have you done now? You will have time enough for further and better acquaintance.

182Swain-wit   [To PHILOMEL]n10227   Thou art a jackanapesgg4684 of the basest tricks that ever I saw, for a half-penny.   [To CIT-WIT]   She’s your choice, is she? Could not you let be tho’? I ha’ been acquainted with thee but two days, and forgi’ me for swearing,n10225 I ha’ found thee beating ripe a score o’ times at least. Take heed I begin not now, and handselgg4685 your lady’s house, that is so much talked on, and your gentlewoman’s presence here, with a fist about your ears.

183Court-witNot for a thousand pound.

184Swain-witThat’s a great deal of money. I could find i’my heart to do’t tho’.

185Court-wit‘Slifegg1915! we are all undone then.

186Swain-witHe sets my teeth on edge to look upon him. He looks so like a wildinggg4686 crab,gg4687 good neither for drink nor sauce.

187PhilomelWhy would you pressgg4688 him then?

188Swain-witThou hast a verjuicegg4689 wit.

189PhilomelFor my poor sake forbear,gs1728 sir.

190Swain-witLet him stand further,gg5465 then, and look o’ ton8356 side.

191Cit-witWell, sir, this is no cause nor place to fight in, when–

192Swain-witWhat says he?

193PhilomelNothing: you hear he whistles tothergg1195 way.

194Swain-wit‘Tother way’? What, backwards?n7030

195PhilomelWhat new guest ha’ you brought here, Mr. Court-wit, for my lady to laugh at?

196Court-witOne for that purpose, Phil: you ha’ spokegg4690 the man. But what company has my patroness, that she is yet busy?

197Swain-witAye, that! If she be long busy I will not stay, andgg857 she were ten great Ladies, or one as big as twenty, for all she is your patroness. Must we wait out of our wits, because Chaliveren7031 ran mad for her?

198PhilomelHa’ you heard o’ that, sir?

199Swain-witMy cousin Court-wit’s question was: who’s with her?

200PhilomelO sweet Mr. Court-wit, when will you bring the fine civilgg4691 gentleman that maintains himself so gallantly by picture-drawing?

201Swain-witHere’s a new business!   [starting to leave]   Fare ye well, pray tell your Lady I came not from Penzance to grow here.

202Philomel   [to SWAIN-WIT]   Nay, sweet sir, stay! There is, sir, with my Lady none but the grave and witty talking knight. Some call him the metropolitan wit of Court,n7032 he that loves ladies’ society so much, and yet has vowed virginity.

203Court-witAs much as in man lies, Phil. He is a perpetual vowed bachelor indeed, and as constant to his vow as to his fashion in apparel, which is ever the same: Sir Raphael Winter-plum.n8357

204Cit-witThat old withered piece!gg4696 I know him.

205Swain-witThou wilt bear upgg4695 again.

206Cit-witHe has licked up a living with his tongue, makes all great tables his own, and eats for his talk. He may be conversant with women, for (they say) he geltgg4692 himself beyond sea for spitegg2091 one did himn8359 and now preaches chastity to ladies and love to their husbands. He’s a lay-gospellergg4693 among the married sort and an especial pedant to the youth o’ Court.

207Court-witFie, thou speakest too much!

208Swain-wit   [to CIT-WIT]   There’s another humourgg4694 I could beat thee for with all my heart: thou wilt speak outrageously of all men behind their backs and darst not answer ‘Baaa– ’to the face of a sheep. Oh, I could pommel thee!

209Cit-witThis is not yet a cause to fight for, when —

210PhilomelBut will not that fine gentleman, Mr. Dainty, come, Mr. Court-wit?

211Court-witI expect him presently.gg103

212PhilomelI’ll see if their conferencegg499 be ended, or break it if I can, and hasten my lady to you.Exit [PHILOMEL].

213Swain-witThis wench has a daintygg355 wit.gg2674

214Court-witShe may, living with the prime lady-wit in town.

215Swain-witBut what Dainty is that she talks on so affectionately?

216Court-witTroth, a gentleman that lives at a good rate: very civilgg4691 in conversation, keeps good company; yet none of his acquaintance that I am acquainted with knows his beginning or his present means.

217Swain-witA gentleman born.

218Court-witI know no more but by his portgg4697 and fashion. You saw him with me last night.

219Swain-witForgi’ me for swearing! Is’t he?

220Court-witHe was at the play with us too: do you not remember that?

221Swain-witYes, that I was at the play, by sure token and a sad one.n7033

222Cit-witI’ll show you somewhat of him. A ’gentleman born’, did you ask?

223Swain-witNow he bears upgg4695 again.

224Cit-witHe cannot be a gentleman by birth or place.gg571 A fine-handed, and a fine-headed, fellow he is, and pretends great skill and practice too in picture-drawing, watchmaking, and such like finger-works,gg4699 which he says he uses as a gentleman’s exercise, not as a trade to live upon, when either he does live on’t; or else he has some more secret way, as perhaps pimping or pursinggg4698 for aught I know.

225Swain-witThere he is again!   [to CIT-WIT]   Art thou bound in conscience to wrong all men in their absence, till I beat thee into better manners?

226Court-witHold, hold! I prithee hold.

227Cit-witYet still the cause is insufficient, when —

228Court-witHere comes the gentleman.

229Cit-witIs he come? Noble Mr. Dainty — the welcomest in the world! I protest I suffered by your absence.

230DaintyYou do me too much honour, Mr. Cit-wit.

231Cit-witO sir, your humble servant.

232Swain-witHa, ha! Forgi’ me for swearing: what a spaniel’sgg4700 this?

233DaintyGentlemen, you are well found! I was a little stayedgg1012 by the way upon receipt of monies. Ha’ you seen the lady yet?

234Court-witShe’s yet a little busy. We shall all instantly take the opportunity together.

235DaintyBut gentlemen, you that have better knowledge of this lady, inform,gg4701 if you please, why are we summoned hither.

236Court-witThou speakest as if thou hadst guilt upon thee: fear nothing, man.

237Swain-witAye, that’s the thing that I would understand too. And why me of any man? They say indeed she is a humorousgg150 lady, and loves to busy herself. But what are we to her? Are there not greater men and lords enough for her to fool away the time with, but we must dance attendance on her humours?

238Cit-witI protest, Mr. Swain-wit, I admire your ingenuity.gg4702

239Swain-witYou will be meddling still.

240Cit-wit’Tis to your question, sir, which I will answer.

241Swain-witAye, there’s another of your cockscomblygg5468 tricks, to answer any question, that’s asked another man, out with tho’!

242Cit-witThis lady, sir, this humorousgg150 witty lady is a wit-sponge, that sucks up wit from some, and holds as her own, until she squeeze it out on others. She will make use of ours, or any coarser wits, and search ’em out to sift ’em. She will collect from market-folks and hold conferences with the poor tradespeople that cry their wares about the streets. She will rake wit out of a dunghill rag woman.n7034

243Swain-witSo there he is again!   [To CIT-WIT]   Darest thou abuse a noble lady, in her own house too? I dare not now but beat thee.

244Court-wit   [To SWAIN-WIT]   Forbear,gs1728 good cousin.

245Cit-witStill, still, the cause is naught, when —

246DaintyOdso! The lady’s coming,n7042 I think.

247PhilomelGentlemen, my lady cannot yet be rid of the tedious talking knight, but she will cast him presently.gg103 He is now following her into this room: pray pass into the next, my lady’s music room. There you shall find a collation of good tobacco and sackgg483 and one to attend you. You know the fashionsgg4717 of the house, Mr. Court-wit.

248Court-witCome away, gentlemen.Exit [COURT-WIT, SWAIN-WIT, CIT-WIT and
DAINTY through one stage door].

249PhilomelI could even love and look upon that sweet Mr. Dainty a whole hour, methinks.
Enter STRANGELOVE and RAPHAEL [through the other stage door].n9201

250StrangeloveGo your ways down, maid, and if any ask for Sir Raphael here, say that I hope he will ha’ done anon.gg236[PHILOMEL exits.]n9202

251RaphaelYou would be rid of me; but pardon me, Madam, I must hold your glassgg4642 to you.

252StrangeloveThat’s a poor chambermaid’s office and ill becomes your gravity, Sir Raphael.

253RaphaelI’ll open, then, the book to you of your errors.

254StrangeloveNow you speak scholar-like, and yourself. But have we spent all this while in by- and idle talk,n7043 and have that volume to be opened yet? Pray read me for the first lesson for this morning’s exercise, and my edification, the last chapter of my book of errors as you call it.

255RaphaelYou are a mocker of instruction and good counsel.

256StrangeloveBegins it so? whom is that spoken to?n9206

257RaphaelI speak to only you, to conjuregs1658 (if I can) that spirit of scorn out of you, which you have taken in, and long affected for a humour,gs818 your singulargg4062 own humour, till it is grown so familiar,gs1659 so inherent in you, that you have won the title of the humorousgg150 lady by’t and drawn a scorn upon yourself.

258StrangeloveWhy then, all’s paid and welcome, good Sir Raphael.n9204

259RaphaelI am not gone so, nor is all so paid;
        For there’s a greater reckoning yet of railings,gs1066
        Revilings,n7044 curses by the many that
        You've scorned and slighted, shot at you in hot volleys.n9864

260StrangeloveThey hit me not. I am sure I do not feel ’em.

261RaphaelYou may in time be sensible of their suff’rings,
        Whom you have violently and wilfully abused
        With scorn and pride, if you call to mind the cause,
        Bred merely out of humour:gs1069 ’cause you would have it so.

262StrangeloveYou come too near me, sir: ’cause I ‘would have it so’?n9203

263RaphaelCan it be otherwise? Has it not ever been
        Your practice, since your time of widowhood
        To catch all men’s affections? ’Tis indeed
        An honour to a lady to have many suitors;
        But to lay bait for ’em only to delude ’em
        Is impiouslygg6072 dishonourable.

264StrangeloveHave I done so?

265RaphaelYes, and have gloried in it for your humourgs1069
        To lead men into brakes with foolish fire.n7045

266StrangeloveIf they will follow it, I cannot help it.

267RaphaelYou might, though, have prevented the mishaps
        Of many, by a fair and free resistance
        In the beginnings of their suits of courtships,
        And not to set yourself at gazegg5469 to draw them on,
        And then alluregg5737 them with assurèdgg6029 hopes
        Of love and favour till you have wound their follies
        Into the reach of your disdain, and then
        To torture ’em, or having ta’en ’em captives
        To slave and sell ’em to the world’s derision.

268StrangeloveOh, Sir Raphael!

269Raphael   [Aside]   She feels compunction!gg2375
        I will pursue it to the quick.gs1180

270StrangeloveOn, good Sir Raphael!

271RaphaelConsider then, good Madam, since I know,n10244
        And your own conscience knows, that you have made
        A secret vow from your late husband’s death
        Never to marry, how better and more glorious
        It would be for your honour to declare
        Your constant purpose to a single life,
        Than to fall into the transgression
        Of robbing men so of their wits and reason,
        And all by wilful humour,gs1069 as this late
        Unhappy accident of madness in
        The hopefulgs1660 knight, Sir Ferdinando, cries
        Loudly to your disgrace, and the world’s sorrow.

272StrangeloveHalf the world’s sorrow is mine own
        For that sad accident: I would I could redeem’t
        With half my health or life. But let me tell you
        (Now you have justly chiddengg5218 me) that you
        Have a fault too.

273RaphaelWhat is’t in your construction?gg2284

274StrangeloveAs I concealed my vow of single living,
        And gave men leavegg885 to court me, by which means
        I won them into hopes, and robbed their wits,
        You in declaring to the court and city
        Your vow of chastity and single life,
        Yet daily, nightly, hourly frequenting
        The company of ladies with your sweet,
        No less than grave, discourse and conversation,
        Have robbed (nay, I may say defloweredgg6030) more ladies
        Of chaste and honourable thoughts, than all
        The cavalrygg4718 of court.

275RaphaelWho, I, Madam?

276StrangeloveEven you, Sir Raphael (if unchaste desires
        Must be held sinful)! I know some of them,
        And one (I fear) too well, that have been subject
        Unto the breachgg2319 of any vow for you;
        Yet you don7046 vow a single and chaste life,
        And publish your intent!

277Raphael’Tis with intent,
        And a religious purpose to decline,gg4732
        And divertgg5436 woman’s fond affections from me.

278StrangeloveOh, but forbidden things are women’s longings!
        You have read, you have read, Sir Raphael, you have read.n9210
[STRANGELOVE] falls on[to] her couch.n9209

279[Raphael]n9211And traveled too, yet never could discover
        Such an example.

280StrangelovePray sit down by me.

281RaphaelGood thoughts possess you, Madam. I must hence.n9212

282StrangeloveI’ll not be tedious to you. One word, I pray, sir?

283Raphael   [Aside]   Virtuen10245, be thou my armour.   [To STRANGELOVE]   Briefly, then,
        Let me intreat you, Madam.

284StrangelovePray refuse not
        To sit down by me.

285Raphael   [Aside]   Sanctitygg6031 protect me.
[RAPHAEL] sit[s].

286StrangeloveSir, you are famous, and cried upgg1017 by all
        For your great wisdom, moral and divine:
        You are the Ipse dixitn7051 of the Court,
        As I have heard you styledgg6032 by men of learning,
        The Court Philosopher——

287RaphaelMadam, to the point.

288StrangeloveWhat is our strength, and what is not our frailty?

289Raphael   [Aside]   Where is she wandering now?   [To STRANGELOVE]   Be plainer, Madam.n9213

290StrangeloveDo not my blushes, which I hope you pardon,
        Deliver you a message from my heart?
        Which I wantgg491 words to utter? Oh, these vows!
        These rash and ill-made vows! Does not your judgement
        Read something on this face? Pray look upon me.

291RaphaelI am no good interpreter of looks.

292StrangeloveI dare not speak till you have first removed
        A weighty scruplegs1323, which doth much perplex me.

293RaphaelYou must first speak it, Madam.

294StrangeloveWhether these vows
        (I mean your own, and mine, for single life)
        May safely be dispensed with, or absolved,
        And we become a lawful pair in marriage?
        Pray, sir, resolve and bless me in a match.

295RaphaelMadam, I’ll pray for you.   [RAPHAEL] starts up.   

296StrangeloveYou will first kill me
        With your disdain, and then you’ll pray for me!
        Is that your charity?

297RaphaelI dare not hear you.

298StrangeloveLeave me not so.

299RaphaelWho waits upon my Lady here?Exit [RAPHAEL].

300StrangeloveI had no other way to shiftgs1719 him. Would he would make
        An errand now to Rome to quit my scruplen7052
        And rid the court of an officious fool.
        Women sometimes have sent wise men to school.
Enter PHILOMEL.n7110

        Is the knight gone?

301PhilomelAnd blessinggg4734 of himself,
        As witchcraft were i’th’ house.

302StrangeloveBut where’s my favourite Court-wit? Has he brought his country kinsman and the rest?

303PhilomelThey are all in your wit-office, Madam, as you call the room, passing the time among the pipesgg4735 and bottles, and singing catches.gg4736 Here you may hear ’em, Madam.n9216
A catch [is heard being sung offstage].

304StrangeloveMarry, this takesgg5479 past all Sir Raphael’s lectures,
        Go call ’em down.   Exit PHIL[OMEL].   This madmann7053 troubles me:
        Would he were rightgs1720 again or I quit of the scandal.

        O Gentlemen! You're welcome,
        And   [To SWAIN-WIT]   chiefly you that are the only stranger!
        I ha’ been so troubled with an overtalking sir, that he
        Has woundgg6033 me into melancholy —

305Swain-witI wish you mirth, Madam. I come not as one o’ your fools to make you any tho’n7054
[SWAIN-WIT] offer[s] to go away.

306StrangeloveBe not so brief with me, let me intreat you tho’.n7054

307Swain-witForgi’me for swearing: do you mock me tho’?

308StrangeloveMistake me not, sweet sir —

309Swain-wit‘Sweet’ with a mischief! How sweet am I? I come not as a suitor to your great ladyship. I am a gentleman of two hundred a yearn7069 tho’.

310StrangeloveNot as a suitor to me, sir?

311Swain-witNo, you are too great for me. Nor to your mopsygg4737 without,gg1432 though she be snout-fairgg4738 and has some wit: she’s too little for me. I understand degree and quality, respect and difference, and am scholar enough to know my unde and my quare.n7062

312StrangeloveYou ga’ me his true character. You are a complete gentleman, sir — if I mistake not, the kinsman of my favourite here, who has given me an ample relationgg161 of your worth and virtue.

313Court-witYes, patroness, ’tis he, who though not throughly versed or conversant i’th’ court or city garb,gg5470 he understands both men and manners.

314Swain-witPrattlegs1721 for yourself, sir.

315StrangeloveBut to the business, gentlemen.

316Swain-witAye, that I would fain know if it be any.

317StrangeloveYou have heard, I doubt not, of a disastrous blot lately cast upon my fame, out of my own freeness.gg4745

318Cit-witConcerning the mad courtier, Madam, when ’tis as likely that his tailor made him mad as you, for not hitting the fashion right in his last rich suit. But ’tis most like he fell from a reasonable man by over-studying himself what lord he should be at the next creation,gg5680 whether of gleekgg3407 or cribbage,gg4740 in-and-ingg4741 or hazard.gg4742n8710

319Swain-witHark how this shotten-headedgg4744 coxcombgg3016prates!gs1722 And how he, that can endure beating, dares speak anything, or abuse all men!   [to CIT-WIT]   Canst not give the lady leave to speak tho’?

320StrangeloveSince there is an aspersiongg6034 laid upon my freenessgg4745 in giving entertainment unto persons of great and noble quality, the world deeming it to be done by me merely for ostentation, to cry my own humour up, by drawing them into love-knots,gg4746 and then to slight or scorn them, my resolution is from henceforth to exclude those great resorts,gg4749 and friendly and freely be merry within ourselves. I have four thousand a year to spend,n10125 and will be housewifegg4747 good enough to keep in compass.gg4748 I will not entertain a servant, friend or guest above your rank or fortunes —

321Swain-witWhy —forgi’ me for swearing — what do you think of us?

322StrangeloveI think you gentlemen of worth and quality, and therefore welcome. I think you able to maintain yourselves middlesized gent[lemen].n9219

323Cit-witI am Middlesex indeed: born i’ th’ City. n8672

324Swain-wit   [to CIT-WIT]   Give the lady leave to speak tho’.

325StrangeloveI’ll give access to none that the censoriousgg6035 world shall dare to judge a suitor to me, or to find favour further than meat and wine.n9220

326Swain-witYes, faith, a little money too, and make’s your fiddlers.n9774

327Cit-wit   [to SWAIN-WIT]   Pray give the Lady leave to speak tho’.   [Aside]   Whew!n7076

328StrangeloveMaugregg3389 the greatness of my former visitants
        I give you my election for the chiefs
        Of my familiar society.
        I may perhaps call in, at least admit,
        People of meaner garb, without (I hope)
        Your grudge or envy; but they shall be men
        Of science, art, and action.n10126

329Swain-witOf action, Madam? who do you mean? the players?

330StrangeloveWhy not? I love their qualitygg917 and them, and mean to have the use of some of ’em shortly, besides musicians (poets in the first place) and painters: in which last-mentioned art   [to DAINTY]    I hear you are excellent, though all this while so silent.n10127n9221

331DaintyI boast no skill or practice, Madam, but I have drawn some piecesn8371 that have been worth my pains in my rewards.

332StrangeloveI must commend their ingenuitygg5474 for whom you took those pains. But (where I left) I must make use of wits, of arts, and actions.gg4750

333Swain-witHere in your house, Madam, I would be glad to see the actors, but I saw ’em at their own too lately, for I lost my purse there. No matter, let it go. There was fifteen pound in’t tho!

334Cit-wit’Sprecious!gg4751 How now! My fobgg4752 has been fobbedn7077 today of six pieces,gg80 and a dozen shillings at least. Nothing but a bowedgg5475 groatgg75 left, as I hope for my grannam’sgg660 blessing.

335Court-witSure, you have been in some ill company.

336Cit-witPox of ill company, I say! My watch is gone out of my pocket too o’th’ right side.

337DaintyYou rose o’ the wrong side today, it seems. Were you in no crowd or quarrel?

338Cit-witI never was in any quarrel i’my life. I always run from ’em.

339Court-wit   [Aside]   I dare swear thou dost.

340Cit-witI only stood today at the coranto-shopn8735 to read the lastgg4753 great news; and I was hoopedgg4754 in, I remember, by some that seemed to wonder as much as I.

341DaintyThen certainly there was a cutpurse amongst ’em.

342Cit-witI’ll go to honest Molln8374 about it presently.gg103

343Swain-witBut first stay and hear my Lady tho’.

344Court-witAye, Madam, you were speaking of the use you would make of poet, painter, music, actor and the like.

345StrangeloveTrue, favourite. For a masque that I intend to have shortly, you shall perform the poetical part, your servant Cit-wit the musical, and   [to DAINTY]   by your skill and directions, the painter’s officegg352 for the scenes.gg4756 Dancers and speakers I have in store.

346Swain-witI must be something too tho’, must I not, Madam?

347StrangeloveMarry and thank you too, sir.

Now, your news.

348PhilomelSir Andrew Mendicant desires to see you, Madam.

349StrangeloveYou should have told him I would not be seen by him.

350PhilomelI told him you were busy. But he says he is to speak with you upon a weighty business from the court.

351Strangelove ’Tis the court-beggar.   [To COURT-WIT]   You know him, favourite. Go not away: I’ll bring him in amongst you, and (as you love me) put some ridiculous projects to him.n9779Exit [STRANGELOVE].

352DaintyWhat’s that Sir Andrew Mendicant? Do you know him well?

353Court-witThou askest still a question like a guilty person, with a look resembling fear upon thy face.

354DaintyMy countenance is to blame, then, not my conscience.

355Cit-witI’ll tell you what he is.

356Swain-witStill answering others’ questions?

357Cit-witHe is a knight that hankersgg6075 about the Court, ambitious to make himself a lord by begging. His brain is all projects, and his soul nothing but court-suits. He has begun more knavishgg4757 suits at Court than ever the king’s tailor honestly finished, but never thrived by any, so that now he’s almost fallen from a palace beggar to a spittlegg2455 one. His business to my Lady now can be nothing but to borrow money to buy a pair of wheels to set some project a-going to Court for a monopoly.gg6036

358Swain-witThou wert in haste e’en now to look after thy money; but andgg857 thy life lay on’t, thou must stay to abuse a man behind his back, who is a noble gentleman, thou knowst, and I have heard. Yet (speak in thy conscience) wouldst thou not be beaten now?

359Court-witForbear: they come.

360StrangeloveSir, since it is requested by those great ones
        Whose power cannot command me in this case
        (For ’tis my charity and not my duty),
        I am content that the mad Ferdinand
        Shall sojourn in my house for his recovery.

361MendicantTis thought you were the groundworkgs1382 of his frenzygg2746
        The doctors therefore moved their honours to it
        For that your frequent presence may be helpful
        Towards his care.

362StrangeloveHe shall have it, then,
        Towards the expiationgg4949 of the crime
        They charge me with. But in case, Sir Andrew,
        He should be cured by this means, I should then
        Cross you in fortune and your future hopes
        Of his estate, which you have begged, you say,
        If he recover not.

363MendicantI must leave that to fortune, Madam.

364StrangeloveWill you be please, sir, to take notice of
        These gentlemen, my friends.
[MENDICANT bows to them, and they to him.]n9222

        They may be useful,
        For they have all projectivegg4767 brains, I tell you.

365MendicantPray, of what nature are your projects, gentlemen?

366Court-witSir, my affection leans much to poetry, especially the dramatic.

367MendicantWriting of strange plays?

368Court-witI am glad I speak, sir, to your understanding. And myn8756 project is that no plays may be admitted to the stage, but of their making who profess or endeavour to live by the quality, that no courtiers, divines, students-at-law, lawyers’ clerks, tradesmen or prenticesn8755 be allowed to write ’em, nor the works of any lay-poet whatsoever to be received to the stage, though freely given unto the actors, nay though any such poet should give a sum of money with his play, as with an apprentice, unless the author do also become bound that it shall do true and faithful service for a whole term.n8757

369MendicantHere’s a trimgg990 business towards, and as idle as the players going to law with their poets!n10133

370Court-witI have another, sir, to procure a patent for myself to have the only privilege to give instructions to all the actors in the city (especially the younger sort), the better to enable them to speak their parts emphatically and to the life.n8754

371MendicantYou were best take heed in time, then, that you well preserve your own voice, for fear you do a spoil among ’em in teaching ’em to utter in unsavoury tunes. Do I come hither to be mocked?

372Swain-witWill you hear mine tho’?n7054 I am a country gentleman, young, healthful and lusty. I hear complaints of barrenness in the city and of men that cannot get their wives with child. Get me but a patent for’t, I’ll undertake by myself and deputies (provided that the woman be sound and handsome) to make them multiply, and upon reasonable conditions: we will deal with the rich for money, and the poor for charity.

373MendicantThis is foolisher than tother.gg1195 Do you abuse me, gentlemen?

374Swain-witIs that a wise man’s question? You cannot tell tho’.n7093

375Cit-witWe have our projects too, sir.

376Mendicant   [to DAINTY]   I would have yours first: you seem a civil and substantial gentleman.

377DaintyIn more private if you please, sir.
[drawing MENDICANT away from the others in order to steal his purse]

378Mendicant   [Aside]   I like well his reservedness.gg6038

379DaintySir, I am a picture-drawer, limner,gg6039 or painter (if you please) and would gladly purchase authority, by myself and deputies, for the painting of all the king’s- and queen’s-head signsn8375 for taverns, inns, ale-houses, and all houses and shops of trade throughout the kingdom upon this ground:n8376 that they draw and hang up their royal images for signs in so hideous manner that men bless themselves to see’t.

380MendicantAye, marry, this hangs upon some ground.n8377 But are you an exquisitegg3800 workman in that art, sir?

381DaintyI am an artist in that mystery,gg4774 sir, and have drawn some of His Majesty’s pictures, by copy only but so to the life that gentlemen have kneeled to ’em for suits and knighthoods.

382MendicantIndeed, sir!

383DaintyYes, sir, and great lords I have pictured so powerfully, their own followers suddenly rushing into the room have started back and solemnly stood baregg154 to ’em as they hung o’ the walls.

384MendicantIs’t possible?!

385DaintyI drew a stern judge and a civil lawyer so to the life that after their corpses were in the grave, a man durst not look upon their pictures without a bribe, or double fee in’s hand.

386MendicantI do admire you!

387DaintyI ha’ drawn ladies, too, with that alluring beauty, that men have loved their dead pictures for their painted looks, more than their living persons for all their virtues.

388MendicantThou boy!gg5477 In troth, you abuse me most merrily, gentlemen. n8378
[MENDICANT makes to leave but is prevented.]

389StrangeloveAn excellent fellow: I like him for that fancy more than all the rest.

390Cit-witPray hear my project too, sir?

391StrangeloveYes, good sir Andrew, you shall not part so abruptly.

392Cit-witMine is a good commonwealth’s business against the common plague, that reigns i’ th’ City, of pickpockets and cutpurses. I myself ha’ been robbed today, and am going to a good membergg4775 that deals in private for the recoveries of such goods, one that shall undertake, if you’ll but get a patent, for a cutpurse-hall, or office, to help all men to their own again, allowing but the tithes of their losses, and freeing the offending parties.n7099

393MendicantFie, fie! Here’s tithing indeed.

394Cit-witProvided that notice be brought to the office within four and twenty hours after any such loss.

395MendicantEnough, enough.

396Cit-witWe may by the same course secure the counties too, and make the hangman hang himself.n7100

397MendicantLet every man be wise enough to look to his purse, and there will be no cutpurses, nor need of your patent.

398Swain-witAs wise a man as you may lose his purse tho’, as I ha’ done myself in a crowd.

399MendicantHe puts me in mind of a crowd I was in once today of company I liked not— Ha!!!—   [Aside]   Foregg5478 heaven,’tis gone, and I dare not discover it for being laughed at!

400Court-witIt seems none of your projects will pass with you, Sir Andrew.

401StrangeloveCome, sir, they are but (as you said) merry with you.

402MendicantBe you merry with them, good Madam, you know the serious work I came about – in which I suddenlygg4781 shall presume to give you a revisit.

403StrangelovePray do, Sir Andrew, bring your madman. My garden lodgingsgg4782 shall be his Bedlam.gg3160 Come, gentlemen, ’tis dinner-time.

404Court-witWe are your waiters,gg4780 Madam.[All exit.]n7103

Edited by Marion O'Connor

n9617   2.1 Act 2 establishes comic routines which will be repeated, with variations, across the play. The first section opens with the three wits (Cit-wit, Lady Strangelove’s client Court-wit, and his Cornish cousin Swain-wit) being escorted onstage by Lady Strangelove’s chambermaid (Philomel). She flirts with Swain-wit, and he tries to pick fights with Cit-wit, who refuses to rise to any bait, however offensive. Cit-wit and Court-wit together give character sketches of figures who are going to enter the scene: first to be described, though not to come onstage, is a bachelor knight (Sir Raphael Winter-plum) who loves women, platonically, and the sound of his own voice, professionally. At this moment in stage time, he is preoccupying the attention of Lady Strangelove, so Philomel goes off to seek her mistress and send him packing. As she makes her exit, Philomel asks a self-interested question which occasions another character sketch, this time of the picture-drawer (Mr. Dainty): Court-wit talks of him as a gentleman whose company he and Swainwit had kept at the theatre only the night before, but Cit-wit doubts Dainty’s gentility and wonders about his actual source of income. Dainty’s sudden entrance prompts Cit-wit to switch from character assassination to fawning salutation. The next character sketch is of Lady Strangelove, from whom Philomel then returns to send these guests offstage for refreshments elsewherein the house. Strangelove and Raphael now come onstage and, once Philomel has in turn been sent off by her mistress, join in a comic combat which is the second section of the act. Raphael, explicitly resisting all hints that he has exhausted his welcome in the house, reproaches Strangelove for her insubordinate and insensitive demeanour towards men in general and her heartless treatment of Ferdinand in particular. She terminates the lecture, and Raphael’s visit, by making a pass at him, proposing marriage and thereby scaring him away – offstage and out of the house. In the third section of the act, Court-wit, Swain-wit, Cit-wit and Dainty return and, after a bit of bucolic boorishness from Swain-wit, are welcomed by their hostess. Lady Strangelove explains that she has sought their company precisely because they are her social inferiors (who as such cannot be regarded as amorous victims ) and she indicates that she may also bring in skilled performers to stage a masque. Attention now turns to Dainty as a potential painter of scenes. As it is revealed that Swain-wit had been robbed of a purse at the theatre the night before and that Cit-wit has just had his pocket picked, Dainty’s real source of income – as a thief – becomes obvious enough to add innuendo to many of his lines. The fourth and last section is marked by Philomel’s announcement of Mendicant’s approach. Following a character sketch by Cit-wit, Mendicant enters – initially, to ask that Strangelove extend the hospitality of her house to Ferdinand, and then to be the butt of jokes. Court-wit, Swain-wit and Cit-wit mock Mendicant with project proposals, and Dainty picks his pocket. Having discovered his loss (but not revealed it to the others), Mendicant departs, and Lady Strangelove leads the others offstage to dinner. [go to text]

n8784   gallery, In a Tudor or Stuart great house, a gallery is long narrow apartment which serves as a corridor connecting one part of the house to another, a place for displaying paintings and other works of art (family portraits in particular), and -- as here -- a waiting room for visitors to the house. See Lena Orlin, `Galleries', Ch. 6 in Locating Privacy in Tudor London (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007), 226-261 [go to text]

n10231   wrong not my lady’s couch with your spurs, Video A 26 June 2006 workshop session on the beginning of Act 2 discovered comic possibilities in Philomel's warning to mind the upholstery. Actor Alan Morrissey turned the line into a means of initiating a flirtation with Swain-wit: see clip . Then Brome general editor Richard Cave and actor Robert Lister, in the respective roles of Court-wit and Swain-wit, invented visual business which referred back to the initial warning: see clip . [go to text]

gg4682   rowel sharply serrated disc at the extremity of a spur (OED n. 1a) [go to text]

gg4683   twit taunt (OED v. 1) [go to text]

n7028   I am a gentleman tho’. Swain-wit's characteristic tag-word, by 1639 obsolete except as dialect. It had been used both pronominally and adverbially, the latter involving time or series. As uttered by Swain-wit, the word is virtually meaningless but functions as punctuation marking the end of a sentence or speech. It could be modernised as 'then', but the obsolete form marks the speaker as a countryman. Swain-wit says 'tho'' more than 30 times in the play. [go to text]

gg294   baggage, good-for-nothing; strumpet, whore [go to text]

n9200   [SWAIN-WIT and PHILOMEL] kiss, [pro]long[edly]. Video In Octavo of 1653 the corresponding stage direction reads "Kisse long." The subject of this sentence, which is placed after an open parenthesis sign to the right of the second sentence in Swain-wit's speech (No.180), is not stated: see [CB 2.1.line533]. Workshop on 26 June 2006 preferred the hypothesis that Cit-wit rather than Swain-wit should kiss Philomel: see for discussion and for performance. This required the reassignment of that second sentence from Swain-wit to Cit-wit: whichever of the two it is who kisses Philomel, he evidently initiates the embrace with that sentence "I would be further acquainted with you tho'." see video . For the editorial arguments for, and consequences of, giving the kiss to Swain-wit and reassigning other sentences to Cit-wit, see [NOTE n10226] to speech No. 180. [go to text]

n10226   [Cit-wit] Video In Octavo of 1653, these sentences, like the two preceding and the six following, are assigned to Swain-wit [CB 2.1.lines531-543]. The effect, as was pointed out by actor Robert Lister, who played the role in workshop on 26 June 2006, is that he is replying to himself about further acquaintance. (The alternative possibility that Swain-wit is pushing Philomel away seems less plausible still.) The solution which was tried in workshop was to reassign both the immediately preceding sentence (`I would be further acquainted with you tho''), and the kiss which that sentence cues, to Cit-wit: see clips , and [NOTE n9200]. Although that distribution of dialogue and business proved theatrically preferable to the original, the workshop solution has not been adopted in this edition because it is dramatically problematic, being irreconcilable with what Brome indicates about Swain-wit and Cit-wit. On the one hand, it makes no sense for Cit-wit, who is said to have made Philomel his choice already, to be told to await time and place for further acquaintance. It makes even less sense for Cit-wit to be saying `tho'' before that syllable has been firmly established as Swain-wit's verbal tic. (Swain-wit will utter it fully six times in this scene before Strangelove bounces it back to him [CB 2.1.speech306], in an echo at which Swain-wit takes explicit offence. Swain-wit then speaks it another five times before Cit-wit, apparently impressed by his own effrontery, speaks it once [CB 2.1.speech327]. Much later in the play Cit-wit will speak it again when, in Act 5, he recycles Swain-wit's verbal abuse [CB 5.1.speech929].) And on the other hand, it makes sense for Swain-wit, as the only newcomer among the three wits, to express, and enact, a desire for further acquaintance with Philomel, and it makes sense for Cit-wit, as the one with an established interest in her person, to interrupt Swain-wit's intrusion upon it. This dynamic is secured by assigning the kiss to Swain-wit and re-assigning, to Cit-wit, the two sentences which call time: `Have you done now? You will have time enough for further an better acquaintance.' [go to text]

n10227   [To PHILOMEL] Although it would be possible for Swain-wit to turn directly from the kiss and address Cit-wit, the tone of 'Thou art a jackanapes' matches that of 'Thou art a baggage', a line which he has just spoken to Philomel. [go to text]

gg4684   jackanapes someone who resembles an ape in tricks, airs, or behaviour: used playfully of a pert, forward child, a ‘monkey’ (OED 2c) [go to text]

n10225   forgi’ me for swearing, Video Another of Swain-wit's characteristic utterances, this phrase occasioned interesting and lively discussion in workshop on 26 June 2006: see clip . Actor Robert Lister, who played Swain-wit, then put one of his suggestions into practice: see clip . [go to text]

gg4685   handsel to use something for the first time, with befitting ceremony (OED v. 2) [go to text]

gg1915   ‘Slife abbreviation for 'God's life' used as an oath or exclamation [go to text]

gg4686   wilding uncultivated, wild: used of fruit trees, particularly apple and crab-apple [go to text]

gg4687   crab, common name of wild apple, Malus sylvestris [go to text]

gg4688   press importune [someone](OED v. 14b); express, extract [juice] by pressure (OED 3) [go to text]

gg4689   verjuice sour: verjuice is an acidic juice pressed from unripe grapes, crab-apples, or other sour fruit, to be used in cooking, as a condiment, or for medicinal purposes (OED 1) [go to text]

gs1728   forbear, be patient (OED 8c) [go to text]

gg5465   stand further, move away, stand further off (OED `further' adv, 4: at a greater distance in space) [go to text]

n8356   o’ to Octavo of 1653 reads `o'toe': see [CB 2.1.line554]. In context of Swainwit's countrified language, the sense as `out to' or `away to the' seems clear. [go to text]

gg1195   tother other (of two) [go to text]

n7030   he whistles tother way. What, backwards? Video Swain-wit's joke is scatological: to whistle backwards is to fart. In workshop session on 26 June 2006, actor Adam Morrissey as Philomel delivered "whistles tother way" as a directional command to Cit-wit (played by Adam Kay): see clip . [go to text]

gg4690   spoke described (OED speak 14.c) [go to text]

gg857   and if [go to text]

n7031   Chalivere Video Swain-wit's nomination of Sir Ferdinand as `Chalivere' could be a printer's error; but since this distortion of `Chevalier' is peculiar to the speaker, it has been retained from the 1653 octavo. Whether it signals his accent, his hostility, and/or his ignorance would be indicated in performance. (In workshop, Robert Lister communicated some sense of its possibilities: see clip , near the end.) In any case, I am grateful to Michael Leslie for recognising it. [go to text]

gg4691   civil educated; well-bred; refined, polished, ‘polite’ (OED adj. 9) [go to text]

n7032   metropolitan wit of Court, The adjective here signifies `characteristic of a large city, its way of life, etc', with, in 17th-century use, a frequently negative sense as `over-sophisticated, sexually promiscuous, corrupt (OED n, 2b): both general and particular significances here resonate off `Court'. And Sir Raphael's religious pretensions ensure that the now-obsolete sense as `chief, principal', (derived from `metropolitan' as the title of an archbishop in the Christian Church) is also in ironic play. [go to text]

n8357   Winter-plum. The name mocks its bearer's age and his virility: it suggests that his skin is wrinkled, like that of soft fruit stored away over winter, and that his testicles dangle, dried-up and useless, like plums left on a tree after harvest time. See also [NOTE n1967]. [go to text]

gg4696   piece! a person, an individual (generally understood to be male) (OED n. 9a); with the further sense as `firearm' (OED n. 15) here connoting an innuendo as `penis' [go to text]

gg4695   bear up exalt oneself (OED v1. 21b; now obsolete) [go to text]

n8359   he gelt himself beyond sea for spite one did him The nature of the malicious injury or insult which prompted Sir Raphael to seek castration abroad is never divulged. This report of his drastic reaction, however, functions as remote preparation for plot developments in Act 4. [go to text]

gg4692   gelt castrated [go to text]

gg2091   spite injury (OED n. 1) [go to text]

gg4693   lay-gospeller lay person who reads the Gospel during the Anglican Communion service. [go to text]

gg4694   humour whim, caprice (OED n. 6) [go to text]

gg103   presently. immediately (OED adv. 3); without delay [go to text]

gg499   conference conversation [go to text]

gg355   dainty valuable, excellent; rare [go to text]

gg2674   wit. intelligence, wisdom; quickness, ingenuity [go to text]

gg4691   civil educated; well-bred; refined, polished, ‘polite’ (OED adj. 9) [go to text]

gg4697   port bearing, deportment (OED n4. 1a) [go to text]

n7033   by sure token and a sad one. Swain-wit remembers the theft of his purse at the theatre but does not realise that it was Dainty who stole it. [go to text]

gg4695   bears up exalt oneself (OED v1. 21b; now obsolete) [go to text]

gg571   place. rank, position, office [go to text]

gg4699   finger-works, work executed with the fingers [go to text]

gg4698   pursing stealing purses, robbing [go to text]

gg4700   spaniel’s fawning person (OED n1. 2b) [go to text]

gg1012   stayed held up, delayed [go to text]

gg4701   inform, give information, report (OED v. 7a; the three examples which the OED gives for this absolute or intransitive sense, now obsolete, are all 17th-century ones) [go to text]

gg150   humorous moody, whimsical [go to text]

gg4702   ingenuity. high or distinguished intellectual capacity; quickness of wit (OED 4) [go to text]

gg5468   cockscombly foolish: professional fools had worn caps which resembled cocks' combs in shape and colour (OED `cockscomb' 1) [go to text]

gg150   humorous moody, whimsical [go to text]

n7034   rag woman. A rag woman, like a ragman, is a person who collects or deals in rags or old clothes. The 1653 octavo reads `Ragwoman' [CB 2.1.line676], here emended to match the OED, which treats the female of the species as a compound phrase, and the male as a noun unto himself. The earliest OED example, from 1654, occurs in a title: `The new brawle, or, Turnmill-street against Rosemary Lane Being a mock comedy By two actors, viz. John Hold my-staff, rope-maker and Doll Doe-little Ragg woman.' The earliest OED example of `ragman' in the corresponding sense is 1679. [go to text]

gs1728   Forbear, be patient (OED 8c) [go to text]

n7042   Odso! The lady’s coming, The initial word is an interjection expressing surprise or affirmation. The OED examples (the earliest of which dates from 1660) are variously a single disyllabic word, as here, or two words, as in the 1653 octavo, which reads `Ods so the ladies comming' [go to text]

gg103   presently. immediately (OED adv. 3); without delay [go to text]

gg483   sack white wine from Spain: sack is derived from 'sec', and usually meant a dry white wine; hence Falstaff's enjoyment of 'sack and sugar' [go to text]

gg4717   fashions manners and customs (OED n. 8b) [go to text]

n8361   [COURT-WIT, SWAIN-WIT, CIT-WIT andDAINTY through one stage door]. Octavo of 1653 reads: `Exit Gentlemen.' [go to text]

n9201   Enter STRANGELOVE and RAPHAEL [through the other stage door]. Octavo of 1653 reads: `Enter Strange-love, and Sir Raphael.' [go to text]

gg236   anon. soon; immediately; in good time [go to text]

n9202   [PHILOMEL exits.] Octavo of 1653 does not provide an exit, but the need for one is indicated both by Lady Strangelove's command here [CB 2.1.speech 250] and then by the [re-]entrance for Philomel at [CB 2.1.speech 300]. [go to text]

gg4642   glass mirror [go to text]

n7043   by- and idle talk, The first word here reads `by' in the octavo of 1653. The hyphen has been added to advertise the word's function as an adjective modifying (as does the second word) `talk' and meaning `casual, minor': see OED `by-'. [go to text]

n9206   Begins it so? whom is that spoken to? In Octavo of 1653, the compositor set this line as prose; but it is a regular iambic pentameter line. Brome's versification is erratic enough to invite caution in commenting on it; but it does appear to indicate Lady Strangelove's control of the dramatic situation. With this speech ([CB 2.1.speech256]) and her next ([CB 2.1.speech258]) she shifts the dialogue into verse. [go to text]

gs1658   conjure call upon or summon (an evil spirit) (OED v. 5a) [go to text]

gs818   humour, temperament, disposition [go to text]

gg4062   singular unique; remarkable; strange [go to text]

gs1659   familiar, habitual (OED adj. 6b), here with some connotation of the word's sense as a noun designating a witch's on-call evil spirit (OED n. 3) [go to text]

gg150   humorous moody, whimsical [go to text]

n9204   Why then, all’s paid and welcome, good Sir Raphael. In Octavo of 1653, the compositor set this line as prose; but it is a tolerable alexandrine (12-syllable) line of verse. [go to text]

gs1066   railings, railings: instances of railing; rants, taunts (OED n2. 2) [go to text]

n7044   Revilings, Octavo of 1653 reads `reviling': the plural has been adopted for parity with the words in series with it here. All four of the 16th- and 17th-century examples in the OED entry for this verbal noun are in the plural. [go to text]

n9864   shot at you in hot volleys. Shifting the topic of conversation from Lady Strangelove's failings to the feelings of men whom she has teased, Sir Raphael shifts the dominant figure of speech from moral book-keeping to emotional battle-fighting. He imagines her victims as a line of artillery simultaneously discharging verbal gunshot at her. (See OED volley n, 1a.) [go to text]

gs1069   humour: inclination or disposition for some specified action, etc.; fancy (to do something) (OED n. 6b) [go to text]

n9203   You come too near me, sir: ’cause I ‘would have it so’? In Octavo of 1653, the compositor set this line as prose; but it is a regular alexandrine (12-syllable) line, to which Raphael replies with another of the same kind. [go to text]

gg6072   impiously with presumptuous wickedness (OED) [go to text]

gs1069   humour inclination or disposition for some specified action, etc.; fancy (to do something) (OED n. 6b) [go to text]

n7045   To lead men into brakes with foolish fire. The image is of men led into thorny thickets (`brakes') by ignis fatuus (literally `foolish fire'), a phosphorescent light seen hovering or flitting over marshy ground. OED entry adds: `When approached, the ignis fatuus appeared to recede, and finally to vanish, sometimes reappearing in another direction. This led to the notion that it was the work of a mischievous sprite, intentionally leading benighted travellers astray.' The notion, which survives in popular names for the phenomenon such as `Will-o'-the-wisp' `Jack-a-lantern', informs Sir Raphael's image: he is accusing Lady Strangelove of malicious deception. [go to text]

gg5469   set yourself at gaze make yourself attractively conspicuous (from OED `set' v1, 25a) [go to text]

gg5737   allure draw forth, attract (OED v. 4) [go to text]

gg6029   assurèd confident (OED 6) [go to text]

gg2375   compunction! remorse [go to text]

gs1180   quick. the tenderest part (of a person's body or soul) [go to text]

n10244   Consider then, good Madam, since I know, Video At the 26 June 2006 workshop session on Sir Raphael's Act 2 conference with Lady Strangelove, actor Alan Morrissey commented on the ponderousness of the speeches which he had to pronounce as Raphael. Video material from the session, however, shows how powerful those speeches were even on first read-through: for example see . [go to text]

gs1069   humour, inclination or disposition for some specified action, etc.; fancy (to do something) (OED n. 6b) [go to text]

gs1660   hopeful full of hope, expectant of something desired (OED adj. 1) [go to text]

gg5218   chidden scolded, rebuked [go to text]

gg2284   construction? arrangement of words (OED 5a); translation (OED 6); interpretation (OED 7) [go to text]

gg885   leave permission [go to text]

gg6030   deflowered ravaged, despoiled (OED deflower 2) [go to text]

gg4718   cavalry knighthood; an order of chivalry (OED 2, where Brome's The Court Beggar> is the latest example given for this now-obsolete sense) [go to text]

gg2319   breach breaking, violation [go to text]

n7046   do 1653 octavo reads `to vow' [go to text]

gg4732   decline, turn aside from; shun; avoid (OED v (trans), 12 and 13a) [go to text]

gg5436   divert turn away (OED v. 3 and 5) [go to text]

n9210   You have read, you have read, Sir Raphael, you have read. In Octavo of 1653, the compositor set this line as prose: its 13 syllables cannot be forced into iambic pentameter, but it is verse. Had it been set as a single line of type, however, there would not have been enough room to cram in the beginning of the stage direction after it. [go to text]

n9209   [STRANGELOVE] falls on[to] her couch. Video In Octavo of 1653 this stage direction reads `Falls on her Couch', and the compositor has placed it to the right, across three lines, the last two of which are Raphael's: see [CB 2.1.line794] and [CB 2.1.speech278]. What he says is a response to what he sees -- Lady Strangelove displayed across her couch -- as much as it is to what he hears. The business which is required by the stage direction must therefore occur as or immediately after Strangelove speaks the second sentence of speech 278. As performed by actors Alan Morrisssey as Raphael and Adam Kay as Strangelove in the workshop session on 26 June 2006, the business required by this direction proved very funny. [go to text]

n9211   [Raphael] Octavo of 1653 reads `La.' but the assignment of this speech to Strangelove is impossible: compositorial grip seems to have been slipping at this point. [go to text]

n9212   Good thoughts possess you, Madam. I must hence. In Octavo of 1653, the compositor set this line as prose; but it is a perfectly regular line of iambic pentameter verse. [go to text]

n10245   Virtue Video Raphael's style of speech has suddenly been transformed, not least by being broken up with asides. The workshop session on this sequence considered whether these should be played to the audience and improvised business for the last of them. [go to text]

gg6031   Sanctity holiness, saintliness [go to text]

gg1017   cried up extolled, praised [go to text]

n7051   Ipse dixit `He himself has spoken' -- an acknowledgment of authority. The Latin phrase here is a translation of a Greek one from Pythagorean philosophy: it can refer either to a magisterial utterance or to the person who has uttered it.(OED) Lady Strangelove's compliment is more than a little ambivalent. [go to text]

gg6032   styled called (OED style v, 1a) [go to text]

n9213   Where is she wandering now?[To STRANGELOVE]Be plainer, Madam. In Octavo of 1653, the compositor set this line as prose; but by Brome's standards it is a tolerably regular line of iambic pentameter verse. [go to text]

gg491   want lack [go to text]

gs1323   scruple doubt, uncertainty or hesitation in regard to right and wrong, duty, propriety (OED n2. 1) [go to text]

gs1719   shift get (a person) out of the way (OED v. 16a) [go to text]

n7052   errand now to Rome to quit my scruple An errand to Rome in search of a papal dispensation releasing Lady Strangelove and Sir Raphael from their vows and permitting them to marry would keep him far away for a long time. The joke may be informed by memories of delays in papal dispensations and permissions around international negotiations for Catholic princesses to marry Charles I -- the aborted match with the Spanish Infanta in 1623, the achieved one with Henrietta Maria in 1625. [go to text]

n7110   Enter PHILOMEL. Octavo of 1653 puts Philomel's entrance half a line later, after Lady Strangelove asks her about Sir Raphael's departure. [go to text]

gg4734   blessing making the sign of the cross (OED vbl n, 1b) [go to text]

n9216   They are all in your wit-office, Madam, as you call the room, passing the time among the pipes and bottles, and singing catches. Here you may hear ’em, Madam. Octavo of 1653 presents Philomel's speech ([CB 2.1.speech303]) as prose (`They are all...the Roome'), then verse (`Passing...Bottles'), and then prose again (`And singing...Madam'). Rather than shift thus, not just mid-speech but even mid-sentence, it seems preferable to cast the entire speech as prose, which is anyhow the usual medium between these two characters. [go to text]

gg4735   pipes casks for storing wine with a capacity of 126 gallons (OED n2. 1) [go to text]

gg4736   catches. rounds in which the words are so arranged that one singer picks up the word[s] of another (OED n1. 14) [go to text]

gg5479   takes overtakes, surpasses [go to text]

n7053   madman Octavo of 1653 has `Madam', a word which appears twice in the immediately preceding speech, but which would have Lady Strangelove talking to herself (and the audience) about herself rather than about Sir Ferdinand, for whom she has evinced concern earlier in the scene [go to text]

gs1720   right sane (OED adj. 13a) [go to text]

n7066   [DAINTY,] COURT-WIT, SWAIN-WIT and CIT-WIT. ] Enter Court-Swain, and Cit-wit. [go to text]

gg6033   wound drawn, brought (OED wind v1, 11b) [go to text]

n7054   tho’ Octavo of 1653 has `though' [go to text]

n7054   tho’. Octavo of 1653 has `though' [go to text]

n7069   gentleman of two hundred a year Swain-wit's self-description is an assertion of his own social status and financial independence. As usual, however, the speaker marks himself as a provincial outsider: Swain-wit's unearned income of £200 a year would have been no very great sum in early 17th-century London. Writing of gentry incomes in The State of England (1600) Thomas Wilson remarked geographical disparities: `Especially about London and the Countyes or adioyning...he is not counted of any great reckning unless he be betwixt 1000 marks [= £666] or £1,000, but Northward and farr off a gentleman of good reputacion may be content with 300 and 400 yerly.' [go to text]

gg4737   mopsy familiar term for a woman, especially a young one [go to text]

gg1432   without, outside [go to text]

gg4738   snout-fair comely, handsome -- according to OED `frequent in 16th and 17th centuries, usually with some disparaging suggestion' [go to text]

n7062   unde and my quare. `wherefore...why': translating a familiar doublet into Latin, Swain-wit reverses the order of these interrogatives as given in catchphrases (`the Why and the Wherefore') and proverbs (`Every Why has its Wherefore'; `There never is a Why but there is a Wherefore'). See Tilley W331 and W332. [go to text]

gg161   relation narration, account [go to text]

gg5470   garb, prevailing mode or fashion; style of living, form of behaviour (OED n2. 3) [go to text]

gs1721   Prattle chatter at length (OED v. 2a) [go to text]

gg4745   freeness. readiness; generosity, liberality (OED n. 2) [go to text]

gg5680   creation, conferring of titles, ennobling [go to text]

n8710   whether of gleek or cribbage, in-and-in or hazard. This list of possible titles for Sir Ferdinand is another swipe at Sir John Suckling, whose cardgamesmanship was well known. Near the beginning of the brief biography which he wrote of Suckling in 1680, John Aubrey recorded: `He was the greatest gallant of his time, and the greatest that no Shopkeeper would trust him for 6d, as today, for instance, he might, by winning, be worth 200 pounds, and the next day might not be worth half so much, or perhaps sometimes be minus nihilo.....He played at Cards rarely well, and did use to practise by himselfe a-bed, and there studyed how the best way of managing the cards could be.' In a separate manuscript note, Aubrey amplified this account: `Sir John Suckling -- from Mr. William Beeston -- invented the game of cribbidge. He sent his Cards to all Gameing places in the countrey, which were marked with private markes of his; he gott twenty thousand pounds by this way.' (Brief Lives, chiefly of Contemporaries, set down by John Aubrey, between the Years 1669 and 1696', edited from the author's MSS by Andrew Clark (Oxford: Clarendon, 1898) II, 240-1, 245. The longer quotation comes from Bodleian MS Aubrey 6, fol. 110, and the shorter from Bodleian MS Aubrey 8, fol 10v.) [go to text]

gg3407   gleek a card game involving 3 players and 44 cards [go to text]

gg4740   cribbage, card game involving 2 to 4 persons and full pack of 52 cards (OED), said by Aubrey to have been invented by Sir John Suckling [go to text]

gg4741   in-and-in gambling game played by 3 persons with 4 dice (OED n. 1a) [go to text]

gg4742   hazard. game at dice in which chances are complicated by arbitrary rules (OED 1) [go to text]

gg4744   shotten-headed from `shotten' = `having spawned', hence `exhausted', `worthless'(OED 3): numbskull, blockhead [go to text]

gg3016   coxcomb conceited ass (the term is derived from the cap worn by professional fools, which was shaped like a cock's crest or comb, which came to be the natural substitute for the word "fool", the emblem representing the man) [go to text]

gs1722   prates! tells tales against someone (OED prate v, 2a) [go to text]

gg6034   aspersion calumny, slander, false insinuation (OED 6) [go to text]

gg4745   freeness readiness; generosity, liberality (OED n. 2) [go to text]

gg4746   love-knots, literally, complex, ornamental knots used as love-tokens; figuratively, ties or bonds of love (OED) [go to text]

gg4749   resorts, habitual visitors, associates [go to text]

n10125   I have four thousand a year to spend, Lady Strangelove is deftly informing Swain-wit that her net annual income is at least twenty times his own. (See [CB 2.1.speech309].) The sum which she has to spend falls short of the £5,000 a year which Lawrence Stone estimates that an earl would need to `maintain a suitable establishment at the top of the scale'; but it compares with the annual expenditure, estimated at £4,339, of James Howard, 3rd Earl of Suffolk, in 1649 - 1651. (See Lawrence Stone, The Crisis of the Aristocracy [Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1965], 548 and Appendix XXIII.) [go to text]

gg4747   housewife a woman who manages her household with skill and thrift, a domestic economist (OED 1) [go to text]

gg4748   compass. due limits, moderation (OED n1. 2) [go to text]

n9219   gent[lemen]. Octavo of 1653 reads `Gent.' [go to text]

n8672   Middlesex indeed: born i’ th’ City. Geographically correct: the southern boundary of Middlesex was formed by the River Thames between its junctures with the Colne to the west (just upriver from Staines) and the Lea to the east (just downriver from the Isle of Dogs). Thus while Southwark, south of the Thames, was part of Surrey, the City of London was within Middlesex, and so was Westminster. John Norden's maps of both Westminster and London were printed in his chorography of Middlesex (1593), and they were recycled as insets to the map of Middlesex in John Speed's Theatre of the Empire of Great Britain (1612). [go to text]

n9220   I’ll give access to none that the censorious world shall dare to judge a suitor to me, or to find favour further than meat and wine. Octavo of 1653 presents this speech ([CB 2.1.speech325]) as prose (`I'll give access...suitor to me') and then a line of verse (`Or to find...meat and wine'). [go to text]

gg6035   censorious faultfinding, severely critical (OED adj. 1) [go to text]

n9774   Yes, faith, a little money too, and make’s your fiddlers. Swainwit turns Strangelove's line into a catchphrase: meat, drink and money were said to be fiddlers' fare. (See F.Grose, Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue, ed. Pierce Egan [London: Sherwood, Neely & Jones, 1823].) In context, the rejoinder is characteristically churlish. Strangelove has just said that she will welcome only guests who, being known to have resources of their own, cannot be thought to have any ulterior motive for accepting her hospitality, which will be limited to food and drink. Offered welcome on an as-if-equal footing, Swain-wit insists on the inequality of the arrangement: Strangelove will expect her guests to entertain her, so Swain-wit mockingly anticipates that she will pay them with a little cash as well as meat and wine. If he is to sing for his supper, he wants a cash tip. [go to text]

n7076   tho’.[Aside]Whew! Octavo of 1653 reads: `though. (Whew'. That the printer (or his copy text) construed the word `Whew' as a stage direction is evident from its italicisation, its punctuation with an open-parenthesis sign, and its placement at line's end. However, the word perfectly completes the iambic pentameter of the line. It could be played as Cit-Wit's response to a blow or physical threat from Swain-wit, but such business would have to be so staged as to go unremarked by the others onstage. On balance, it seems safest to present the exclamation as an aside in which Cit-wit sighs in exasperation at Swain-wit's impudence and/or applauds himself for his own audacity in defending their hostess and in throwing the countryman's tag-word at him. [go to text]

gg3389   Maugre despite [go to text]

n10126   action. The sequence which this word concludes suggests that Lady Strangelove here uses it to mean `deeds[s]' (OED n, 3) in general, and perhaps also `fighting' (OED n, 10) in particular. Swain-wit, however, responds to the word as meaning `histrionic impersonation, acting of plays', and Strangelove, batting back her guest's response, carries on with the now-obsolete sense (OED n, 12) which he has introduced. [go to text]

n9221   Why not? I love their quality and them, and mean to have the use of some of ’em shortly, besides musicians (poets in the first place) and painters: in which last-mentioned art[to DAINTY] I hear you are excellent, though all this while so silent. Although this speech is set as prose in Octavo of 1653, it includes capitalisations (for `besides' and for `in') which suggest that the compositor may have tried to set it as verse but abandoned the attempt in favour of prose and thereby managed to fit the entire speech into the last bit of space on this page. [go to text]

gg917   quality a word with multiple possible meanings including profession and professional standing or ability (when reference is to actors); also referring to class and social standing (OED 3a [pertaining to class]; OED 1b and 2b [pertaining to ability]) [go to text]

n10127   though all this while so silent. The concessive clause may cue stage business for which the text provides no other, clearer and more particular indication. Dainty has been silent since his re-entry with the Wits: ee [CB 2.1.speech304] and [NOTE n7066]. Strangelove here draws audience attention to Dainty's recent silence; he will immediately reply with an equivocation which draws attention to his pickpocketing; and then Cit-wit will soon notice and announce the loss of a purse [CB 2.1.speech333]. The theft may be imagined to have occurred offstage, when the gentlemen were singing catches, and in this case Dainty might be quietly counting his gains after they return to the stage. Another possibility, which would require very careful timing lest it upstage Strangelove's speeches of exposition, is that Dainty steals Cit-wit's purse onstage, after that re-entry. [go to text]

n8371   drawn some pieces A double quibble: on the verb `draw' as (a)`steal, pickpocket' (Farmer & Henley, Slang & Its Analogues v 2) and (b) `delineate' (OED v, 60b); and on `pieces' as (a)`items of artistic composition' (OED n, 1c) and as `gold or silver coins' (OED n, 1b). [go to text]

gg5474   ingenuity good judgement (OED 5) [go to text]

gg4750   actions. histrionic personation; acting of plays, performance, a play (OED 12) [go to text]

gg4751   ’Sprecious! Shortened form of `God's precious', used as an asseveration or oath (OED, where The Court Beggar provides the last of three examples, the others being from Jonson's The Alchemist and Bartholomew Fair) [go to text]

gg4752   fob small pocket made in the waistband of breeches and used for carrying a watch, money or other valuables (OED n2. 1 gives this as the earliest example listed for the sense) [go to text]

n7077   fobbed Octavo of 1653 has `fubd'. OED gives `fub' as variant of `fob' (v1 = `to cheat'), the past participle of which has been adopted here to emphasize the verbal play. [go to text]

gg80   pieces, of gold or silver, i.e. money (OED n. 1b) [go to text]

gg5475   bowed bent, crooked (OED ppl.adj, 1) [go to text]

gg75   groat coin valued at roughly fourpence (OED 2), which in today's currency would be worth about £1.43 [go to text]

gg660   grannam’s grandmother's [go to text]

n8735   coranto-shop That is: a newsvendor, specifically of corantoes. This instance is the only example which the OED gives for the attributive sense of `coranto' (n2). Initially imported from Amsterdam but from 1621 to 1632 published by several London printers, corantoes were broadsheet, then pamphlet, serials. They were restricted to foreign news, and for six years from 1632, they were altogether prohibited by a Privy Council decree. In 1638, however, two of the London coranto printers from the 1620s were granted a royal patent for printing and publishing news, which was explicitly restricted to recent foreign affairs. Cit-wit's description of himself standing to read the news in a coranto-shop and being hemmed in by a crowd there suggests that corantoes were posted at eyelevel and that people crowded around to read them. In so doing, of course, they would have made themselves easy targets for pickpockets like Dainty. See Joad Raymond, The Invention of the Newspaper: English Newsbooks 1641-1649(Oxford: Clarendon, 1996), 7-13; and Joseph Frank, The Beginnings of the English Newspaper 1620-1660 (Cambridge, MA.: Harvard University Press, 1961), 1-17. [go to text]

gg4753   last very latest, most recent [go to text]

gg4754   hooped encircled (OED v1. 2) [go to text]

n8374   honest Moll The epithet and the name form an oxymoron. In the 17th century, `Moll', which is a diminutive form of `Mary', was a slang name for a prostitute (OED n2, 1): Middleton plays with this association by giving the name to the titular heroine of A Chaste Maid in Cheapside (1613). The name has also designated a female pickpocket or a criminal's associate. All of the instances which the OED cites for usage in this sense (n2, 2) are from the 19th or 20th century, but Jacobean drama supplies an example in Mary Frith, alias Moll Cutpurse, who appeared onstage at the Fortune Theatre both in her own person and, impersonated by a boy, as the titular heroine of Middleton and Thomas Dekker's The Roaring Girl (1611). [go to text]

gg103   presently. immediately (OED adv. 3); without delay [go to text]

gg352   office service, duty, employment, responsibility [go to text]

gg4756   scenes. Painted hangings, slides, etc., set at the back and sides of stages for the performance of Jacobean and Caroline masques (OED 6a) [go to text]

n9779   ’Tis the court-beggar.[To COURT-WIT]You know him, favourite. Go not away: I’ll bring him in amongst you, and (as you love me) put some ridiculous projects to him. Octavo of 1653 starts this speech in verse but switches to prose after two lines [go to text]

gg6075   hankers `hangs', lingers or loiters with longing or expectation (OED hanker v1, 1) [go to text]

gg4757   knavish fraudulent (OED 3) [go to text]

gg2455   spittle a kind of hospital generally occupied by those of low status or suffering from infectious diseases (OED n1. 1) [go to text]

gg6036   monopoly. exclusive privilege, conferred by the crown, of manufacturing or marketing a particular commodity [go to text]

gg857   and if [go to text]

gs1382   groundwork cause [go to text]

gg2746   frenzy distraction, madness [go to text]

gg4949   expiation making atonement (for) [go to text]

n9222   [MENDICANT bows to them, and they to him.] Octavo of 1653 reads `Salute'. This stage direction is placed in the right margin after the second line of Strangelove's speech (No. 364). The courtesies, however, should be offered immediately on cue from Lady Strangelove. [go to text]

gg4767   projective scheming, inventive (OED adj, 1 which cites Brome's use here and in SG 1.3 as being the earliest examples in this now-obsolete sense) [go to text]

n8756   my Court-wit has just articulated his affection for dramatic poetry and then accepted Mendicant's gloss on the object of his affection as writing of strange plays. His project is for the theatre to become a closed shop for professional playwrights, to the exclusion of all amateurs, from courtiers down to apprentices: were this to be achieved, William Davenant might be excluded as a courtier, or he might just scrape in as an established playwright. His friend Sir John Suckling, however, would certainly be excluded -- even if he were to 'pay' a company to perform his work, as Suckling had done for his first completed play, Aglaura, in 1638. [go to text]

n8755   courtiers, divines, students-at-law, lawyers’ clerks, tradesmen or prentices ] Octavo reads: Courtiers, Divines, Students at Law, Lawyers-clearks, Tradesmen or Prentises. It is notionally possible to split the fourth category in this series in two -- `lawyers, clerks' -- but that emendation would disturb the downward social drift of the series. [go to text]

n8757   unless the author do also become bound that it shall do true and faithful service for a whole term. The condition proposes, by analogy with apprenticeship, that the amateur playwright's play must remain with the company of actors whom he has paid to take it on. The duration of this obligation is uncertain because the sense of `term' as unit of time is ambiguous: it could be a matter of months (as in a law term) or of years (as in an apprentice's term, usually seven years, of training service bound to his master). [go to text]

gg990   trim fine, neat, smart (clever) [go to text]

n10133   as idle as the players going to law with their poets! The topical reference of this comparison makes it a meta-theatrical joke: Brome was a poet whom players had taken to law not long before he wrote The Court Beggar, and those players were the rivals of the ones for whom he wrote this play. In February of 1640 the owners and players of Salisbury Court Theatre sued Brome for breach of contract. According to their bill, in July 1635 Brome had agreed to write three plays a year for them for the next three years, during which time he would write for no other company, while they would pay him 15 shillings a week plus, for each new play, the net profit from one day’s playing. In the month of May following, however, the theatres had been closed on account of plague and, aside from a relaxation of the order in February 1637, remained closed until October 1637. With playing suspended, the Salisbury Court company stopped paying Brome and then, in October 1636, secured his agreement to accept a flat payment of £10 -- a little over half of what was owed him in back salary. Brome, on the other hand, not only owed work to Salisbury Court but was discovered to have taken one of the plays he'd written for that theatre over to the Cockpit or Phoenix Theatre and sold it to the Beestons. In August 1638 a new agreement gave Salisbury Court exclusive rights to Brome’s work. As in the first agreement, he was to write three plays a year for the company; but the deal was somewhat different in other respects. It explicitly covered printing as well as performance; it set a timetable by which Brome was to submit the overdue work; and it stated penalties in case of any future failures to keep his side of the bargain, which gave him fully £1 a week, again plus a day’s net profit for each new play. Even while he collected the new salary, Brome stalled for months on signing the new agreement; and eventually he defected to Beeston’s Boys. Brome’s answer to the charges laid by the Salisbury Court players and owners survives, dated 4 March 1640. Their bill and his answer have been published by Haaker, `The Plague, the Theatre, and the Poet’, Renaissance Drama, n.s.1 (1968), 283-306, and by Wickham et al., eds., English Professional Theatre 1530-1660 (Cambridge University Press, 2000), 657-664. For the context of this legal exchange between players and poet, see Steggle, Richard Brome (Manchester University Press, 2004), 67-71 and 105-109. See also the Introduction to this edition. [go to text]

n8754   a patent for myself to have the only privilege to give instructions to all the actors in the city (especially the younger sort), the better to enable them to speak their parts emphatically and to the life. The reference appears to go in two directions, one cruel and the other complimentary. Inasmuch as Court-wit is a figure for Sir William Davenant (1606-1668), playwright and theatrical entrepreneuer, the notion of him giving elocution lessons to young actors is painful: the damage which syphilis had done to his nose was well known. At the same time, however, Court-wit's statement of this project is a reminder of actors' need to be trained, and the Epilogue of The Court Beggar pays tribute to William Beeston (?1606-1681) for rendering precisely that service to the profession at the Cockpit (alias Phoenix) Theatre in Drury Lane, where the play was performed. The references converge as another protest against Davenant's having been given a patent to build a new theatre in Fleet Street and to recruit and manage a company for it, an eventuality which would have had Davenant poaching actors from Beeston's Boys. [go to text]

n7054   tho’? Octavo of 1653 has `though' [go to text]

gg1195   tother. other (of two) [go to text]

n7093   tho’. Octavo of 1653 has `th'o'. [go to text]

gg6038   reservedness. reticence, caution [go to text]

gg6039   limner, painter, especially of portraits [go to text]

n8375   king’s- and queen’s-head signs Octavo of 1653 has `Kings, and Queenes-head signes' [go to text]

n8376   upon this ground: To this end, for this purpose (OED ground n, 5c). [go to text]

n8377   hangs upon some ground. Serves some purpose (OED hang v, 13a; ground n, 5c). [go to text]

gg3800   exquisite consummate, excellent, perfect [go to text]

gg4774   mystery, craft, art; trade, profession(OED n2. 2a) [go to text]

gg154   bare bare-headed [go to text]

gg5477   boy! rogue (OED n1. 2) [go to text]

n8378   Octavo of 1653 reads `Goe'. The direction is printed in the middle of the last line on a page (sig. P4verso), there preceded by the last word (`Gentlemen') of Mendicant's speech and followed by the tag-word (`Str.') for the next page: see [CB 2.1.line1107]. From subsequent dialogue (the next speeches but one and two, [CB 2.1.speech390] and [CB 2.1.speech391]) it is clear both that this stage direction sets Mendicant in motion and that he does not manage to make his escape. [go to text]

gg4775   member citizen (OED n and a, 9a) [go to text]

n7099   that deals in private for the recoveries of such goods, one that shall undertake, if you’ll but get a patent, for a cutpurse-hall, or office, to help all men to their own again, allowing but the tithes of their losses, and freeing the offending parties. The man to whom Cit-wit plans to go in search of his own purse is a receiver of stolen goods, whose dealings are clandestine (because illegal). Cit-wit's project would turn the man's illicit trade into a legitimate business -- a City company or a public service -- through which the victim of pickpockets and cutpurses would recover property on payment of 10% of its value while the perpetrators would avoid penalty. [go to text]

n7100   by the same course secure the counties too, and make the hangman hang himself. Cit-wit imagines the project expanding beyond London: if pickpockets and cutpurses were no longer condemned to death, hangmen throughout the country would have only themselves to hang. [go to text]

gg5478   Fore before [go to text]

gg4781   suddenly forthwith, promptly (OED adv. 2) [go to text]

gg4782   lodgings rooms for temporary occupancy; guestsuite [go to text]

gg3160   Bedlam. the popular term for the Bethlehem Hospital, where the insane were incarcerated; hence a term for chaos and lack of order [go to text]

gg4780   waiters, attendants [go to text]

n7103   [All exit.] Octavo of 1653 has `Exeunt omnes.' [go to text]