Working Subjects in Early Modern English Drama (Studies in Performance and Early Modern Drama)

Working Subjects in Early Modern English Drama

Edited by Michelle M. Dowd and Natasha Korda

WORKING SUBJECTS IN EARLY MODERN ENGLISH DRAMA

Studies in Performance and Early Modern Drama General Editor’s Preface Helen Ostovich, McMaster University 3HUIRUPDQFHDVVXPHVDVWULQJRIFUHDWLYHDQDO\WLFDODQGFROODERUDWLYHDFWVWKDWLQGH¿DQFH of theatrical ephemerality, live on through records, manuscripts, and printed books. The monographs and essay collections in this series offer original research which addresses theatre histories and performance histories in the context of the sixteenth and seventeenth century life. Of especial interest are studies in which women’s activities are a central feature RIGLVFXVVLRQDV¿QDQFLDORUWHFKQLFDOVXSSRUWHUVSDWURQVPXVLFLDQVGDQFHUVVHDPVWUHVVHV wigmakers, or ‘gatherers’), if not authors or performers per se. Welcome too are critiques of early modern drama that not only take into account the production values of the plays, but also speculate on how intellectual advances or popular culture affect the theatre. The series logo, selected by my colleague Mary V. Silcox, derives from Thomas Combe’s duodecimo volume, The Theater of Fine Devices /RQGRQ   (PEOHP VI, sig. B. The emblem of four masks has a verse which makes claims for the increasing FRPSOH[LW\RIHDUO\PRGHUQH[SHULHQFHDFRPSOH[LW\WKDWPDNHVLQWHUSUHWDWLRQGLI¿FXOW Hence the corresponding perhaps uneasy rise in sophistication: Masks will be more hereafter in request, And grow more deare than they did heretofore. No longer simply signs of performance ‘in play and jest’, the mask has become the ‘double IDFH¶ZRUQµLQHDUQHVW¶HYHQE\µWKHEHVW¶RISHRSOHLQRUGHUWRPDQLSXODWHRUSUR¿WIURP the world around them. The books stamped with this design attempt to understand the complications of performance produced on stage and interpreted by the audience, whose H[SHULHQFHVRXWVLGHWKHWKHDWUHPD\UHÀHFWWKHHPEOHP¶VDUJXPHQW Most men do use some colour’d shift For to conceal their craftie drift. &HQWXULHV DIWHU WKHLU ¿UVW SUHVHQWDWLRQV WKH SRVVLEOH SHUIRUPDQFH FKRLFHV DQG PHDQLQJV they engender still stir the imaginations of actors, audiences, and readers of early plays. The products of scholarly creativity in this series, I hope, will also stir imaginations to new ways of thinking about performance.

Working Subjects in Early Modern English Drama

Edited by MICHELLE M. DOWD University of North Carolina – Greensboro, USA and NATASHA KORDA Wesleyan University, USA

‹7KHHGLWRUVDQGFRQWULEXWRUV All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise without the prior permission of the publisher. Michelle M. Dowd and Natasha Korda have asserted their right under the Copyright, 'HVLJQVDQG3DWHQWV$FWWREHLGHQWL¿HGDVWKHHGLWRUVRIWKLVZRUN Published by Ashgate Publishing Limited :H\&RXUW(DVW   8QLRQ5RDG   Farnham 6XUUH\*837   England

  

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www.ashgate.com British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data :RUNLQJVXEMHFWVLQHDUO\PRGHUQ(QJOLVKGUDPD±6WXGLHVLQSHUIRUPDQFHDQGHDUO\ modern drama) (QJOLVKGUDPD±(DUO\PRGHUQDQG(OL]DEHWKDQ±±+LVWRU\DQGFULWLFLVP :RUNLQJFODVVLQOLWHUDWXUH/DERULQOLWHUDWXUH:RUNLQOLWHUDWXUH/LWHUDWXUH DQGVRFLHW\±(QJODQG±+LVWRU\±WKFHQWXU\/LWHUDWXUHDQGVRFLHW\±(QJODQG± +LVWRU\±WKFHQWXU\ ,6HULHV,,'RZG0LFKHOOH0±,,,.RUGD1DWDVKD ¶GF Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Working subjects in early modern English drama / edited by Michelle M. Dowd and Natasha Korda. SFP²6WXGLHVLQSHUIRUPDQFHDQGHDUO\PRGHUQGUDPD Includes bibliographical references and index. ,6%1KDUGEDFNDONSDSHU ²,6%1HEN  (QJOLVK GUDPD²(DUO\ PRGHUQ DQG (OL]DEHWKDQ ±²+LVWRU\ DQG FULWLFLVP (QJOLVKGUDPD²WKFHQWXU\²+LVWRU\DQGFULWLFLVP:RUNLQOLWHUDWXUH/DERULQ OLWHUDWXUH  &DSLWDOLVP LQ OLWHUDWXUH  &DSLWDOLVP DQG OLWHUDWXUH²(QJODQG²+LVWRU\² WKFHQWXU\&DSLWDOLVPDQGOLWHUDWXUH²(QJODQG²+LVWRU\²WKFHQWXU\7KHDWHU² (QJODQG²+LVWRU\²WK FHQWXU\  7KHDWHU²(QJODQG²+LVWRU\²WK FHQWXU\  7KHDWHUDQGVRFLHW\²(QJODQG²+LVWRU\,'RZG0LFKHOOH0±,,.RUGD1DWDVKD 35:: ¶²GF  ,6%1KEN ,6%1HEN II

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Contents List of Figures Notes on Contributors $FNQRZOHGJPHQWV   Note on Text Introduction: Working Subjects  0LFKHOOH0'RZGDQG1DWDVKD.RUGD

ix xi [v xvii 

 Mythos of Labor: 7KH6KRHPDNHU¶V+ROLGD\ and the Origin of  &LWL]HQ+LVWRU\   Crystal Bartolovich



 &LWL]HQVDQG$OLHQVDV:RUNLQJ6XEMHFWVLQ'HNNHU¶V 7KH6KRHPDNHU¶V+ROLGD\   John Michael Archer



 6WDJLQJ$OLHQ:RPHQ¶V:RUNLQ&LYLF3DJHDQWV   1DWDVKD.RUGa 4 Osmologies of Luxury and Labor: Entertaining Perfumers in  (DUO\(QJOLVK'UDPD   +ROO\'XJDn  (QJOLVKPHQIRU0\0RQH\:RUNDQG6RFLDO&RQÀLFW"   7RP5XWWHr  :LOO.HPSH¶V:RUN3HUIRUPLQJWKH3OD\HU¶V0DVFXOLQLW\LQ .HPSH¶V1LQH'DLHV:RQGHU   5RQGD$UDb  7KH5RJXHV¶3DUDGR[5HGH¿QLQJ:RUNLQ7KH$OFKHPLVW   (OL]DEHWK5LYOLn  'HVLULQJ6XEMHFWV6WDJLQJWKH)HPDOH6HUYDQWLQ(DUO\0RGHUQ  7UDJHG\   0LFKHOOH0'RZd  'RPHVWLF:RUNLQ3URJUHVV(QWHUWDLQPHQWV   Sara Mueller  ³WKDQ@PDQXDOO/DERXUVDQG7UDGHVGLGRUFRXOGHEULQJHWKHP´4 The commercial theater was, according to Stephen Gosson, a “nurserie of idelness” that lured apprentices away from their legitimate trades: Most of the Players have bene eyther men of occupations, which they have forsaken to lyve by playing … or trayned up from theire childehoode to this abhominable exercise & have now no other way to gete theire livinge. We are commaunded by God to abide in the same calling wheirein we were called, which is our ordinary vocation in a commonweale. This is the standing, which as faithfull souldiers we ought to kepe, till the Lord himselfe do call us from it. … If we grudge at the wisedome of our maker, and disdaine the calling he hath placed us in, aspyring somewhat higher then we shoulde, … if privat men be suffered to forsake theire calling because they desire to walke gentleman like in sattine & velvet, with a buckler at theire heeles, proportion is so broken, XQLWLHGLVVROYHG>DQG@KDUPRQ\FRQIRXQGHG«:KHUHIRUH,KRSHWKHZLVHZLOO accompt it necessarie, that such as have lefte theire occupations … be turned to the same againe, … aske God forgivenes for the time so evill spent, and apply them selves speedely to live within the compasse of a common weale. Let them not looke to live by playes, the litle thrift that followeth theire greate gaine, is a manifest token that God hath cursed it.

Unlike Othello, a faithful soldier who fetches his very life and being from his occupation and deeply laments its perceived loss, the professional actors were DFFXVHGRIEOLWKHO\IRUVDNLQJWKHLU*RGJLYHQFDOOLQJV³WRO\YHE\SOD\LQJ´UDWKHU WKDQKRQHVWZRUN7KHLURFFXSDWLRQDOÀH[LELOLW\DQGVRFLDOPRELOLW\DVGHVFULEHG by Gosson recall the rapid ascent of Christopher Sly, who is one minute a mere “rogue,” and the next “gentleman like in sattine & velvet.” In Gosson’s view, players threaten the proportion, unity and harmony of the social hierarchy, and HDUQWKHLUOLYLQJDWWKHH[SHQVHRIWKHFRPPRQZHDOWKUDWKHUWKDQOLNHWKHIDLWKIXO VROGLHU VHUYLQJ WR SURWHFW LW  7KH SURIHVVLRQDOL]DWLRQ RI SOD\LQJ WKXV UHTXLUHG that playwrights actively engage in contemporary debates surrounding the subject of work, and that they defend the status of players as ZRUNLQJ subjects. Unlike Gosson, Othello does not view his own occupation in opposition to that of the professional player. To the contrary, he defends the former by drawing on the YRFDEXODU\RIWKHODWWHU³:HUHLWP\FXHWR¿JKW,VKRXOGKDYHNQRZQLW:LWKRXW DSURPSWHU´± KHVD\VVXJJHVWLQJWKDWWKHRFFXSDWLRQRIWKHVROGLHUDQG 4

Stephen Gosson, 7KH6FKRROHRI$EXVH&RQWHLQLQJD3OHDVDXQW,QYHFWLYH$JDLQVW 3RHWV3LSHUV3ODLHUV-HVWHUVDQG6XFK/LNH&DWHUSLOOHUVRID&RPRQZHOWK/RQGRQ  see also 6WDWXWHVRIWKH5HDOPHG -RKQ5DLWKE\/RQGRQ*(\UHDQG$6WUDKDQ  ±  Gosson, Playes Confuted in Five Actions/RQGRQ *Y±*Y

Introduction



WKHSOD\HUVKDUHFRPPRQVNLOOV,QVXFKLQVWDQFHVSOD\WH[WVVXEWO\FXHGDXGLHQFHV to the players’ claim to occupational legitimacy. Previous scholarship has demonstrated the importance of reading early modern English dramatic literature with and against the vibrant economic and material culture of which it was a part. Attending to the complexities of England’s nascent capitalist economy, including the networks of credit and debt it fostered, the systems of literary patronage it enabled, and the poverty and displacement it produced, has helped to foster a critical practice that illuminates the material conditions in which texts are produced as shaped by historical pressures of the period. :RUNLQJ6XEMHFWV contributes to this body of VFKRODUVKLSZKLOHH[WHQGLQJLWLQVLJQL¿FDQWQHZGLUHFWLRQV2OGHUVFKRODUVKLS such as Louis B. Wright’s Middle-Class Culture in Elizabethan England  and L.C. Knights’s 'UDPD DQG 6RFLHW\ LQ WKH $JH RI -RQVRQ   ZKLOH foundational texts for thinking about early modern dramatic literature in relation WRLWVHFRQRPLFFRQWH[WVWHQGHGWRIRFXVRQFLWL]HQFXOWXUHDQGWKH¿JXUHRI WKH³QHZPDQ´ DVGHSLFWHGLQFLWL]HQDQGFLW\FRPHGLHV These works paved the way for numerous studies of city comedy in particular, a genre that as Jean Howard has shown attempts to make sense of a rapidly changing and expanding city increasingly populated by nonFLWL]HQ VXEMHFWV VXFK DV IRUHLJQHUV DOLHQV and women. The essays in this volume likewise attend to this diverse population  6RPH UHFHQW H[DPSOHV LQFOXGH /LQGD :RRGEULGJH HG  Money and the Age of 6KDNHVSHDUH (VVD\V LQ 1HZ (FRQRPLF &ULWLFLVP 1HZ@  ±$OO references to the play are from this edition and will appear parenthetically in the essay.  Kempe, Nine Daies Wonder/RQGRQ 'Y  6FRI¿QJ DW WKH VXSSRVHG ODFN RI ³FKRLVH ZRUGV´ LQ ERRNV VXFK DV 6WRZ¶V DQG DVVHUWLQJ WKH VXSHULRULW\ RI WKH XQLYHUVLW\ WUDLQHG  ³SRHW´ WR WKH ³FLWL]HQ´ 1DVKH ZDUQV “Noblemen or Gentlemen” readers of Pierce Penilesse/RQGRQ ³LWLVQRW\RXUOD\ Chronigraphers, that write of nothing but mayors and sheriefs and the deare yeere and the *UHDW)URVWWKDWFDQHQGRZH\RXUQDPHVZLWKQHYHUGDWHGJORU\´'Y±'U 

Mythos of Labor



protest to a merchant in Robert Greene’s 6FRWWLVK +LVWRULH: “Hob your sonne, and Sib your nutbrowne childe, / Are Gentle folks, and Gentles are beguiled.” $JDLQVW VXFK FKDUDFWHUL]DWLRQV KRZHYHU D FRXQWHUGLVFRXUVH ZDV HPHUJLQJ which appreciated the contributions of merchants to national, rather than merely individual, wealth, and celebrated merchants for creating jobs, expanding the reach of the English empire, circulating goods and enriching the state. Richard Hakluyt’s PDVVLYHFROOHFWLRQVRIWUDGHDQGFRORQL]DWLRQQDUUDWLYHVZKLFKSRUWUD\HGPHUFKDQWV DVKHURLFDQGQDWLRQDI¿UPLQJZHUHDWHOOLQJV\PSWRPRIWKLVHQWHUSULVHEXWLQWKH seventeenth century an extensive literature would appear on these issues, beginning ZLWK-RKQ:KHHOHU¶VZHOONQRZQGHIHQVHRIWKH0HUFKDQW$GYHQWXUHUV&LWL]HQ history was an early––literary––entrant onto these lists. At a time in which the national allegiance of merchants was often still in doubt, WKHULVHRIDGPLUDEOH(QJOLVKPHUFKDQW¿JXUHVLQOLWHUDWXUHLVE\QRPHDQVQHXWUDO Simon Eyre’s story is particularly interesting in this regard, since he is an accidental merchant, having come into wealth from the ranks of artisan householders, but not through laboring in his trade. In his case—exceptional in Deloney’s collection, which mostly features princes and nobles disguising themselves as lowly VKRHPDNHUV±±DQRUGLQDU\DUWLVDQIURPDQRQHOLWHJXLOGQHLWKHU&RUGZDLQHUVQRU Cobblers were among the twelve principle guilds from which the city’s ruling KLHUDUFK\XVXDOO\GHULYHG EHFRPHVDSULQFHO\FLWL]HQYLDDIRUWXLWRXVLQYHVWPHQW of merchant capital. Wealth is emphatically Eyre’s claim to status, not labor, nor blood. Dekker’s choice to stage this story gives rise to a historical drama concerned not only with the birth of the nation, but of wealth. Accordingly, 6KRHPDNHU¶V+ROLGD\ engages a double gesture: it asserts status SDULW\RIPHUFKDQWVZLWKWUDGLWLRQDOODQGHGHOLWHVZKRE\GH¿QLWLRQZHUHH[HPSW IURP ODERU  ZKLOH DW WKH VDPH WLPH GLVWLQJXLVKLQJ PHUFKDQWV DV FLWL]HQV IURP DUWLVDQVZKR do QHFHVVDULO\ ODERU +HUHWRIRUHHYHQ ZKHQ WKHVLJQL¿FDQFHRI WKHKLVWRULFL]LQJWKUXVWRIWKHSOD\KDVEHHQUHFRJQL]HGFULWLFVKDYHDVVXPHGLW WR EH FRQFHUQHG ZLWK DI¿UPLQJ WKH ³PLGGOLQJ VRUW´ LQ JHQHUDO VR WKDW WKH IXOO FRPSOH[LW\RIWKHKLVWRULFL]LQJJHVWXUHUHPDLQVREVFXUH Dekker’s play does not  3OD\V DQG 3RHPV RI 5REHUW *UHHQH YRO  HG  - &KXUWRQ &ROOLQV 2[IRUG &ODUHQGRQ ±  On Hakluyt, see Richard Helgerson, )RUPVRI1DWLRQKRRG7KH(OL]DEHWKDQ:ULWLQJ of England&KLFDJR8QLYHUVLW\RI&KLFDJR3UHVV ±2QWKHHPHUJHQWWUDGH debates, see Joyce Oldham Appleby, (FRQRPLF 7KRXJKW DQG ,GHRORJ\ LQ 6HYHQWHHQWK Century England 3ULQFHWRQ3ULQFHWRQ8QLYHUVLW\3UHVV   )RU D GLVFXVVLRQ RI XUEDQ JXLOG RUJDQL]DWLRQ KLHUDUFK\ DQG IXQFWLRQLQJ VHH Steve Rappaport, Worlds Within Worlds: Structures of Life in Sixteenth-Century London &DPEULGJH&DPEULGJH8QLYHUVLW\3UHVV WKRXJK,DPQRWFRQYLQFHGDVKHLVDWWKH VXFFHVVRIWKHVHVWUXFWXUHVLQDGGUHVVLQJDVRSSRVHGWRUHSUHVVLQJ VRFLDOWHQVLRQV  Brian Walsh’s interesting “Performing Historicity in Dekker’s 6KRHPDNHU¶V +ROLGD\,” SEL    ± UHFRJQL]HV WKDW D WHUP VXFK DV ³PLGGOLQJ VRUW´ LV problematic, but he insists that it is appropriate for his purposes to describe the “technical GHVLJQDWLRQFRQIHUUHGRQPHPEHUVRIJXLOGVDQGPRUHJHQHUDOO\WRGHVFULEHWKHPHUFKDQW WUDGHVPHQPLOLHX´ZKLOH,WHDVHWKHVHODWWHUJURXSVDSDUWQ ,QGHHGP\DUJXPHQW



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FODLPKLVWRU\IRUDOOFRPPRQHUVKRZHYHUEXWUDWKHUGLVSOD\VPHUFKDQWFLWL]HQV DV PDNLQJ KLVWRU\²WKDW LV EHLQJ LWV UHFRJQL]HG DJHQWV±±DORQJVLGH WUDGLWLRQDO aristocratic elites. 7R XQGHUVWDQG KRZ WKH SOD\ ZRUNV LW LV FUXFLDO WR UHFRJQL]H WKH ÀXLG DQG disorienting status situation of incipient capitalism. The description of England accompanying Holinshed’s Chronicles observes that by the middle sixteenth century, merchants “often change estate with gentlemen, as gentlemen doo with them, by a mutuall conversion of the one into the other.” The reason for this “mutuall conversion” was not only the limits imposed on the aristocracy by primogeniture, which sent younger sons of traditional landed elites in search of alternative routes to livelihood, but the substantial—and increasing—economic power of merchants, which could put them in means, if not in rank, above Peers. Merchant wealth tapped by marriage, mutual investment, or loans, could bolster WKHFRQFHQWUDWHGRUÀDJJLQJIRUWXQHVRIWUDGLWLRQDOHOLWHVWRPXWXDOEHQH¿WKRZHYHU ambivalently experienced, while also generating tensions among those excluded from this dynamic as wealth and power continue to concentrate among a very few. $OWKRXJKWKHUHZDVQRFOHDUFXWVWUXJJOHWKHQEHWZHHQDVWDWLFODQGHG³IHXGDO´ class and a dynamic, bourgeois “commercial” class in the transition to capitalism, as an earlier group of Marxist scholars had claimed, we can nevertheless track the transformation of an increasing proportion of elites, both rural and urban, into SURWRFDSLWDOLVWVDSURFHVVWKDWHQJHQGHUHGPXOWLSOHUHODWLYHO\GLVWLQFWVSKHUHV RI FRQÀLFW²DPRQJ WUDGLWLRQDO DQG HPHUJHQW HOLWHV IRU SRVLWLRQ DQG EHWZHHQ these elites and the subordinated.7RVROYHWKHVHFRQÀLFWV6KRHPDNHU¶V+ROLGD\ proposes an alliance RIROGDQGQHZHOLWHVRYHUDQGDJDLQVWODERUIURPZKLFK ERWKFRXUWLHUVDQGFLWL]HQVDUHGHSLFWHGDVKDYLQJSURSHUO\IUHHGWKHPVHOYHV DQG FRXQWHUIDFWXDOO\ GHSLFWVDKLJKO\XQOLNHO\¿JXUH²DVKRHPDNHU²ULVLQJLQWRWKH urban elite, as if any lowly artisan might do the same. The play then anxiously tempers its own mythmaking with “holiday” exceptionality, acknowledging that such trajectories are uncommon without quite conceding that they are impossible. In the process, it introduces another counterfactual gesture: subordinated subjects DQGHOLWHVFRKDELWLQD/RQGRQHYDFXDWHGRIWHQVLRQEHWZHHQHOLWHFLWL]HQVDQG the rest. provides a direct counterpoint to his claim that “7KH6KRHPDNHU¶V+ROLGD\ helps to reveal WKDWWKHSUHVHQWDWLRQRIDULVWRFUDWLFFHQWHUHGQDWLRQDOKLVWRULHVLVDOVRGULYHQE\PLGGOLQJ sort labor²ERWKLPDJLQDWLYHDQGERGLO\´QHPSKDVLVPLQH 7RWKHFRQWUDU\ERWK sorts of history plays do their best to exclude labor as such from history altogether. Ronda Arab’s “Work, Bodies and Gender in 7KH6KRHPDNHU¶V+ROLGD\” provides a more nuanced account of the role of “work” in the play, 0HGLHYDODQG5HQDLVVDQFH'UDPDLQ(QJODQG  ±  Raphael Holinshed, Chronicles /RQGRQ    )RU D GLVFXVVLRQ RI VWDWXV mobility, see Keith Wrightson, (DUWKO\ 1HFHVVLWLHV (FRQRPLF /LYHV LQ (DUO\ 0RGHUQ Britain 1HZ+DYHQKLV@VLPSOHV´7KHSHUIXPHUUHWRUWV 6LPSOH"«,KDYHLQLWPXVNHFLYHWDPEHUSKRHQLFREDODQXVWKHGHFRFWLRQV of tumericke, sesame, nard, spikenard, clamus, odoratus, stacte, opobalsamum, amomum, storax, ladanum, aspalathum, opoponax, oenanthe. And what of all WKHVHQRZ":KDWDUH\RXWKHEHWWHU"

$QVZHULQJ$OEDQR¶V DULVWRFUDWLF YHQWULORTXL]HG FU\ RI ³:KDW GR \RX ODFN"´ LQ Marston’s play with a stunning array of complex, perfume ingredients, Jonson’s perfumer ridicules the courtier’s desire for “simple” simples. Distilling his disdain, WKHSHUIXPHU¶V³VLPSOHV´DUHDQ\WKLQJEXWKLVSURIHVVLRQDOPDVWHU\RISHUIXPLQJ FKDOOHQJHV$PRUSKRXV¶DVVHUWLRQRIVRFLDOSULYLOHJH'HVSLWHVXFKPDVWHU\KH¿QDOO\ asserts his expertise through the consumer’s direct experience of the commodity. When Amorphous queries if the perfume is “rich,” the perfumer commands him WR³WDVWHLWVPHOOLW´DQGFRQFOXGHV³,DVVXUH\RXLWLVSXUH%HQMDPLQ´;Y 7KH play thus associates perfume with hedonistic pleasure and ultimate luxury. Earlier 

See Geckle, -RKQ 0DUVWRQ¶V 'UDPD 7KHPHV ,PDJHV 6RXUFHV 0DGLVRQ 1- )DLUOHLJK'LFNLQVRQ8QLYHUVLW\3UHVV $OOFLWDWLRQVRIWKHSOD\DUHIURP0DUVWRQ :KDWTo Post@*HWKRPH \HSDWFK&DQQRW\RXVXIIHUJHQWOHPHQMHVWZLWK\RX" Post,¶GWHDFKKLPDJHQWOHWULFNDQ,KDGKLPRIWKHEXUVHEXW,¶OOZDWFKKLPD JRRGWXUQ,ZDUUDQWKLP±



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The gentlemen’s belief that the Post’s complexion gives them license to ridicule KLP GHULYHV IURP WKH ZD\ LQ ZKLFK DV .LP ) +DOO REVHUYHV ZKHQ GLVFXVVLQJ Mary Wroth’s Urania) white skin in the Renaissance served to articulate class difference as well as racial difference. Whiteness is “the sign of membership of RU DVSLUDWLRQ WR  D OHLVXUHG DULVWRFUDWLF FODVV LQ ZKLFK ERGLHV DUH SXUHVW ZKLWH because they can escape signs of labor such as exposure to the sun.” Conversely, the Post’s tanned skin is the sign of his status as a worker. It is not clear whether the merchant Browne’s dismissal of him, “Cannot you suffer gentlemen jest with \RX"´ LQGLFDWHV DFFHSWDQFH RI WKLV LGHRORJ\ RU PHUHO\ WKH VHQVH WKDW IRU WKRVH involved in merchandise and its related activities, being mocked by gentlemen goes with the territory. At any rate, the gentlemen themselves are ready to invoke their class status as a rationale for their treatment of Pisaro, Harvey describing as “a gallant jest” the idea of taking him up on the invitation to dinner he inadvertently H[WHQGHGWRWKHP  6RFLDO WHQVLRQV OLNH WKHVH DUH LGHQWL¿DEOH LQ WKH SOD\ DQG ZKLOH WKH\ PLJKW EH FDOOHG FODVVEDVHG RU VWDWXVEDVHG FODVV DOOHJLDQFH LQHVFDSDEO\ LQYROYHV D particular relationship with work. Pisaro’s servant Frisco complains in his opening speech that “A man were better to live a lord’s life and do nothing, than a serving FUHDWXUHDQGQHYHUEHLGOH´± DQGKLVDVVRFLDWLRQRIKLJKVRFLDOVWDWXV ZLWKLGOHQHVVHFKRHV6LU7KRPDV6PLWK¶VGH¿QLWLRQRIDJHQWOHPDQDVVRPHRQH able to “live idly and without manuall labour.”+RZHYHUVXFKOLQHVRIFRQÀLFW YLVLEOH WKRXJK WKH\ DUH DUH PXFK OHVV QRWLFHDEOH WKDQ WKH QDWLRQDO FRQÀLFWV WR which critics of the play have tended to devote more space. To an audience, much more striking than the fact that Pisaro’s preferred suitors are merchants is the fact that they are foreign, since we are reminded of it whenever they open their mouths: Alvaro. Me dincke such a piculo man as you be sal have no de such grande lucke madere. Delion 1RQ GD 0RQVLHXU DQ KH EH VR JUDQGH DPRURXV RS GH GDPRLVHOOD he sal have Mawdlyn de witt wenshe in de Kichine by maiter Pisaro’s leave. ±

It is their status as foreigners, more than their status as merchants, that Pisaro’s GDXJKWHUV¿QGREMHFWLRQDEOHDQGWKHLUVDWLULFDOGHVFULSWLRQVRIWKHLUVXLWRUVSDUWDNH of the play’s general atmosphere of crass xenophobia: Mathea. My Frenchman comes upon me with the ‘sa, sa, sa. Sweet madam pardone moy I pra.’ And then out goes his hand, down goes his head, 6ZDOORZVKLVVSLWWOHIUL]]OHVKLVEHDUG±  Hall, 7KLQJVRI'DUNQHVV(FRQRPLHVRI5DFHDQG*HQGHULQ(DUO\0RGHUQ(QJODQG ,WKDFD&RUQHOO8QLYHUVLW\3UHVV   Smith, 'H 5HSXEOLFD $QJORUXP HG  0DU\ 'HZDU &DPEULGJH &DPEULGJH 8QLYHUVLW\3UHVV 

Englishmen for My Money



Not only is national rivalry central to the play’s dramatic effect: it cuts across class boundaries to unite the English characters against the foreign threat to English maidenhood. At the beginning of the play, Anthony, the tutor to the three sisters, SDVVHVRQOHWWHUVDQGJLIWVIURPWKHLU(QJOLVKORYHUVDVZHOODVXUJLQJWKHLUVXLWV Pisaro’s accusation that Anthony has favored them “all because they are your FRXQWU\PHQ´ LVFRQ¿UPHGE\$QWKRQ\¶VODWHUH[SODQDWLRQ³7RKHOSP\ FRXQWU\PHQ , FDVW DERXW  )RU VWUDQJHUV¶ ORYHV EOD]H IUHVK EXW VRRQ EXUQ RXW´ ± 7KLVVROLGDULW\EHWZHHQWKHQHHG\VFKRODUDQGWKHLGOHJDOODQWVSHUVLVWV throughout the play and contrasts noticeably with the social disengagement and class envy evident in scholars like Asper/Macilente in Jonson’s Every Man Out RI +LV +XPRXU   DQG /DXUHR LQ 'HNNHU &KHWWOH DQG +DXJKWRQ¶V Patient Grissil± )RUKLVSDUW)ULVFR3LVDUR¶VVHUYLQJPDQH[SUHVVHVKRVWLOLW\ towards his master’s intentions and encourages Heigham, Harvey and Walgrave to take advantage of his master’s absence: “My master is abroad and my young mistresses at home. If you can do any good on them before the Frenchman come, why so! Ah, gentlemen, do not suffer a litter of languages to spring up amongst us” ± $V(PPD6PLWKQRWHVLQ)ULVFR¶VLQYRFDWLRQRI³DOLWWHURIODQJXDJHV´ “the unspeakable possibility of international marriage and its mongrel offspring is transferred to the resultant linguistic progeny.” Charged with leading Vandal by night from Bucklersbury to his master’s house, Frisco asks, “what wise man in a NLQJGRPZRXOGVHQGPHIRUWKH'XWFKPDQ"'RHVKHWKLQN,¶OOQRWFR]HQKLP"´ ± 7ULFNLQJIRUHLJQHUVVHHPVWREHVRPHWKLQJDQ\ULJKWWKLQNLQJ(QJOLVK VHUYLQJPDQZRXOGGRRQSULQFLSOH²DOWKRXJK)ULVFRGRHVVXEVHTXHQWO\H[SUHVV KLVLQWHQWLRQWR³KDYHDÀLQJDWWKHZHQFKHV´LQ9DQGDO¶VSODFH± 7KH English gentlemen similarly misdirect the foreign suitors to prevent them from keeping the nocturnal meeting with his daughters that Pisaro has arranged: Alvaro,SUD\GHJUD]LDZDWEHGLVSODVKH":DWGR\HFDOOGLWVWUHHW" +HLJKDP:KDWVLUZK\/HDGHQKDOOFRXOG\RXQRWVHHWKHIRXUVSRXWVDV\RX FDPHDORQJ" Alvaro. Certenemento Leadenhall. I hit my hed by de way—dare may be de voer VSRXWV,SUD\GHJUD]LDZLVKEHGHZH\WR&UXWFKH)ULDUV" +HLJKDP+RZWR&UXWFKHG)ULDUV"0DUU\\RXPXVWJRDORQJWLOO\RXFRPHWR WKHSXPSDQGWKHQWXUQRQ\RXUULJKWKDQG±

/HJJDWWMXVWL¿HVKLVFODLPWKDW(QJOLVKPHQIRU0\0RQH\LVWKH¿UVWFLWL]HQFRPHG\ ZLWKWKHREVHUYDWLRQWKDW+DXJKWRQVHHPV³WRXVHKLVORFDOFRORXUZLWKWKHVHOI FRQVFLRXVQHVVRIDQLQQRYDWRU´DQGKHUHWKHIHWLVKL]LQJRI/RQGRQ¶VVWUHHWVDQG VWUHHW IXUQLWXUH WKH VSRXWV WKH SXPS  LV PXFK LQ HYLGHQFH Like their broken  

6PLWK³µ6RPXFK(QJOLVKE\WKH0RWKHU¶´ Leggatt, &LWL]HQ&RPHG\

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English, the inability of the foreigners to decipher this topography symbolically excludes them from the community the play celebrates, as well as presenting a practical obstacle to success with Pisaro’s daughters. :KLOH ULYDOULHV EHWZHHQ ZRUNHUV DQG QRQZRUNHUV DUH FHUWDLQO\ GLVFHUQLEOH in (QJOLVKPHQ IRU 0\ 0RQH\, then, they are both less obvious than national rivalries and to some extent mitigated within the play by those rivalries, as SRWHQWLDOO\DQWDJRQLVWLFJURXSVJHQWOHPHQVFKRODUVVHUYLQJPHQ FROODERUDWHLQ vanquishing the alien threat. The critics to whom I have already referred offer a variety of explanations for the play’s treatment of foreigners: the need to “lay the blame for England’s economic problems at the door of some hated Other” .HUPRGH  WR ³FRQVWUXFW OHJLEOH DQG UHFRJQL]DEOH ¿FWLRQV RI ERWK (QJOLVKQHVV DQG QRQ(QJOLVKQHVV LQ RUGHU WR SURGXFH DQ LGHD RI QDWLRQDO LGHQWLW\´ 6PLWK  to “negotiate … the alien presence at the heart of London’s merchant world” +RZDUG  I do not wish to dispute any of those suggestions, but as to the more VSHFL¿F TXHVWLRQ RI ZK\ FODVV DQWDJRQLVPV VKRXOG EH VXERUGLQDWHG WR QDWLRQDO ones, I would offer a further explanation that relates to the circumstances of the /RQGRQWKHDWUHLQ %HWZHHQ WKH \HDUV  DQG  WKH /RQGRQ WKHDWULFDO PDUNHWSODFH ZDV dominated by the Lord Chamberlain’s Men, who performed mainly at the Theatre prior to the opening of the Globe, and the Lord Admiral’s Men at the Rose. 7KH &KLOGUHQ RI 3DXO¶V KDG FHDVHG SOD\LQJ LQ  DSSDUHQWO\ IROORZLQJ WKH 0DUSUHODWHDIIDLUDQGIRUPRVWRIWKHV/RQGRQ¶VWKHDWHUJRLQJFXOWXUHGRHV QRWVHHPWRKDYHEHHQSDUWLFXODUO\VWUDWL¿HGRQVRFLDOJURXQGVWKH&KDPEHUODLQ¶V and the Admiral’s running “a similar repertoire of plays” that tried to appeal to “a KRPRJHQHRXVDOOLQFOXVLYHVRFLDOUDQJH´3HUIRUPLQJDVWKH\GLGLQODUJHRSHQ air theatres that could seat thousands at a time, it did not make sense for either company to seek to restrict its audience appeal to one particular group, and indeed 5RVO\Q/DQGHU.QXWVRQKDVDUJXHGWKDWDVLJQL¿FDQWHOHPHQWRIHDFKFRPSDQ\¶V commercial strategy was to copy the successes of the other. However, when the &KLOGUHQRI3DXO¶VUHFRPPHQFHGSOD\LQJLQWREHIROORZHGE\WKH&KLOGUHQ RIWKH&KDSHOLQERWKFRPSDQLHVVHHPWRKDYHDWWHPSWHGWRFDSLWDOL]HRQWKH VPDOOVL]HRIWKHLUSOD\KRXVHVDQGWKHUHODWLYHO\KLJKFRVWRIHQWUDQFHE\SUHVHQWLQJ 

Howard points out, however, that “The joke seems to depend on what in truth was an unstable distinction between aliens and native Londoners that obscures not only how long many stranger merchants resided within the city and how extensive their knowledge of LWFRXOGEHEXWDOVRKRZPDQ\(QJOLVKVSHDNLQJ/RQGRQHUVZHUHIRUHLJQHUVWKDWLVSHRSOH ERUQ HOVHZKHUH LQ (QJODQG DQG QRW RI¿FLDOO\ PDGH IUHH RI WKH FLW\ DQG DW OHDVW LQLWLDOO\ KDYLQJOLWWOHIDPLOLDULW\ZLWKLW´Theater of a City±   .HUPRGH ³$IWHU 6K\ORFN´  6PLWK ³µ6R PXFK (QJOLVK E\ WKH 0RWKHU¶´  Howard, Theater of a City  Andrew Gurr, 3OD\JRLQJ LQ 6KDNHVSHDUH¶V /RQGRQ QG HGLWLRQ &DPEULGJH &DPEULGJH8QLYHUVLW\3UHVV   Roslyn Lander Knutson, 7KH 5HSHUWRU\ RI 6KDNHVSHDUH¶V &RPSDQ\ ± )D\HWWHYLOOH8QLYHUVLW\RI$UNDQVDV3UHVV 

Englishmen for My Money



their drama as socially exclusive, as in the following extract from -DFN'UXP¶V (QWHUWDLQPHQW  Sir Edward. … I sawe the Children of Powles last night, And troth they pleasde mee prettie, prettie well, The Apes in time will do it hansomely. Planet. Ifaith I like the Audience that frequenteth there With much applause: A man shall not be choakte With the stench of Garlicke, nor be pasted 7RWKHEDUP\-DFNHWRID%HHUEUHZHU Brabant Junior. Tis a good gentle Audience …

:KLOH LW LV IDU IURP FHUWDLQ WKDW VXFK SDVVDJHV UHÀHFWHG D JHQXLQH DEVHQFH RI workers from the playhouses of the children’s companies, it can more safely be said that plays written for both companies sought to depict their performance spaces as socially elevated and to distance their form of theatre from the idea of work, with its connotations of social inferiority. :RUN WRRN RQ D VLJQL¿FDQFH in distinguishing between different theatrical cultures that it had not had before. Furthermore, it has been argued that one effect of this attempt by the children’s companies to align themselves with the social elite was to encourage a divergence between the repertories of the adult companies, the Admiral’s and the Earl of :RUFHVWHU¶V 0HQ ³FDWHULQJ IRU DQ LQFUHDVLQJO\ QDUURZ DQG FRQVHUYDWLYH FLWL]HQ taste,” the Chamberlain’s “competing with the boys and their new fashions” while trying to maintain a broad audience base. The subordinating of social rivalries to national ones that I have tried to identify in (QJOLVKPHQIRU0\0RQH\FDQEHVHHQDVUHÀHFWLQJDQHDUOLHUSHULRGZKHQERWK main adult companies attempted to appeal to a wide range of theatergoers and ZKHQDVWUDLJKWIRUZDUGDOLJQPHQWHLWKHUZLWKDQRQODERULQJHOLWHRUZLWKODERULQJ commoners would have been undesirable. A comparable dynamic can be observed in Thomas Dekker’s play 7KH 6KRHPDNHU¶V +ROLGD\ $GPLUDO¶V 0HQ   ZKHUH LQ 'DYLG 6FRWW .DVWDQ¶V ZRUGV  ³WKH VRFLDO DQG HFRQRPLF WHQVLRQV WKDW are revealed”—in particular, friction between classes, and between English and foreign artisans—are obscured by a festive conclusion in which “Rafe and Jane DUHUHXQLWHG/DF\DQG5RVHDUHZHGDQGFODVVFRQÀLFWVGLVVROYHLQWKHKDUPRQLHV FHOHEUDWHG DQG FRQ¿UPHG LQ WKH 6KURYH 7XHVGD\ EDQTXHW LQ /HDGHQKDOO´



Gurr, 3OD\JRLQJ LQ 6KDNHVSHDUH¶V /RQGRQ ± -RKQ 0DUVWRQ -DFNH 'UXPV (QWHUWDLQPHQW/RQGRQ +Y  Tom Rutter, :RUNDQG3OD\RQWKH6KDNHVSHDUHDQ6WDJH&DPEULGJH&DPEULGJH 8QLYHUVLW\3UHVV ±  Gurr, 3OD\JRLQJLQ6KDNHVSHDUH¶V/RQGRQ  Kastan, “Workshop and/as Playhouse: Comedy and Commerce in 7KH6KRHPDNHU¶V +ROLGD\,” Studies in Philology 

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$ VRPHZKDW GLIIHUHQW YLHZ RI 7KH 6KRHPDNHU¶V +ROLGD\, not dissimilar to my own reading of (QJOLVKPHQIRU0\0RQH\, is put forward in the current collection by John Archer, who sees the play’s cartoon xenophobia as contributing to its festive atmosphere.) In (QJOLVKPHQIRU0\0RQH\, national oppositions help to SDSHURYHUFODVVFRQÀLFWVUDWKHUWKDQEHLQJUHVROYHGZLWKWKHPDWWKHHQGRIWKH SOD\EXWKHUHDVLQ'HNNHUWKHSORWOHDGVWRDURPDQWLFHQGLQJLQZKLFK3LVDUR allows himself to be brought into the festive community: ,VLWHYHQVR":K\WKHQ,VHHWKDWVWLOO Do what we can, women will have their will. >      @ And, gentlemen, I do entreat tomorrow 7KDW\RXZLOOIHDVWZLWKPHIRUDOOWKLVVRUURZ±±

$V.HUPRGHSRLQWVRXW³3LVDURLV¿QDOO\WKHDFFHSWLQJIDWKHURIFRPHG\QRWWKH µ-XGDVOLNH¶ YLOODLQ KLV RZQ ZRUGV SURFODLP KLP DW WKH EHJLQQLQJ´ While the English gentlemen’s contest with the foreign suitors ends with the latter’s defeat, WKHLUVWUXJJOHZLWKWKHVHPL$QJOLFL]HGPHUFKDQWXVXUHUJLYHVULVHWRIHDVWLQJDQG reconciliation. In keeping with her view of (QJOLVKPHQIRU0\0RQH\ as in part a response to the presence of foreign merchants in London, Howard sees the festive conclusion of the play as a defusing of the threat Pisaro poses: “it is the work of the play’s narrative structure to make this powerful alien presence pass—through his daughters’ marriages—harmlessly into the national fabric, trailing his wealth behind him.”:KLOHWKHSOD\¶VQDWLRQDOFRQÀLFWPD\EHUHVROYHGZLWK3LVDUREHLQJ VXEVXPHG LQWR (QJOLVKQHVV KRZHYHU WKH VDPH FDQQRW EH VDLG DERXW WKH VRFLR HFRQRPLFFRQÀLFWVHYLGHQWLQ(QJOLVKPHQIRU0\0RQH\. There is substantially PRUHLQ3LVDUR¶V¿QDOVSHHFKWKDQDPHUHFDSLWXODWLRQWRWKHLQHYLWDEOH Moore. Master Pisaro, ’tis in vain to fret And fume and storm: it little now avails. These gentlemen have, with your daughters’ help, Outstripped you in your subtle enterprises. And, therefore, seeing they are well descended, Turn hate to love, and let them have their loves. Pisaro,VLWHYHQVR":K\WKHQ,VHHWKDWVWLOO Do what we can, women will have their will. Gentlemen, you have outreached me now, Which ne’er, before you, any yet could do. You that I thought should be my sons indeed Must be content, since there’s no hope to speed. Others have got what you did think to gain,  

.HUPRGH³$IWHU6K\ORFN´7KHUHIHUHQFHLVWR Howard, Theater of a City

Englishmen for My Money



And yet, believe me, they have took some pain. :HOOWDNHWKHPWKHUHDQGZLWKWKHP*RGJLYHMR\ And, gentlemen, I do entreat tomorrow That you will feast with me, for all this sorrow. Though you are wedded, yet the feast’s not made: Come, let us in, for all the storms are passed, $QGKHDSVRIMR\ZLOOIROORZRQDVIDVW±

The speeches of Pisaro and Moore interpret the events of the play in terms of commercial competitiveness: Pisaro has been “outstripped” and “outreached” by the English gentlemen, exceeded or surpassed in “subtle enterprises.” He XVHV WKH VWULNLQJ SKUDVH ³KHDSV RI MR\´ WR GHVFULEH WKH SUL]H WKH\ KDYH JDLQHG FRQÀDWLQJPDULWDOEOLVVZLWKWKHKHDSVRIFRLQWKH\PD\H[SHFWDQGLQDUHYHUVDO of his earlier scorn for the idle gentlemen alludes to the labor or “pain” they have undergone in achieving their end. Furthermore, the language of outstripping and outreaching, and the reference to storms in the penultimate line, creates an LPSOLFLWOLQNEHWZHHQ3LVDUR¶VWKUHHGDXJKWHUVRQHRIZKRPRIFRXUVHLVFDOOHG Marina) and the three English ships, “the Fortune, your ship, the Adventure, and *RRG/XFN of London,” he earlier believed had been more literally outstripped by 6SDQLVKJDOOH\V± EXWZKLFKZHUHVDYHGE\WKHZHDWKHU In Alvaro’s description, “after un piculo battalion, for un half hour de come a wind fra de north, and de sea go tumble here, and tumble dare, dat make de galleys run away IRUIHDUEHDOPRVWGURZQHG´± :KLOHRQHPLJKWH[SHFWWKHSLUDWHVWR stand for the Englishmen stealing Pisaro’s daughters from him, their foreignness and their ultimate lack of success mean that they are more closely paralleled by Vandal, Alvaro, and Delion. Pisaro assimilates the industriousness and ingenuity of the English gentlemen to his own mercantile ethic, rather than seeing the two as fundamentally opposed. The sense that there is something in the gentlemen’s amorous intrigues that mirrors Pisaro himself has been quietly anticipated in the play. His comment on the gentlemen in his opening speech, “For though I gild my temples with a smile, ,WLVEXW-XGDVOLNHWRZRUNWKHLUHQGV´± LVUHFDOOHGLQ:DOJUDYH¶VYRZ WR³ZRUNRXUODQGVRXWRI3LVDUR¶VGDXJKWHUV´ 3LVDUR¶VSULGHDWKDYLQJ ³RYHUUHDFKHG WKH (QJOLVKPHQ´   SDUDOOHOV WKH SURPLVH$QWKRQ\ PDNHV WR WKHP³,¶OORYHUUHDFKWKHFKXUODQGKHOSP\IULHQG´ DQGIRUWKHLUSDUW when the gentlemen attempt to extricate Anthony from the predicament his disguise as a Frenchman has placed him in, Harvey’s expression of fear that “all RXUPDUNHWZLOOEHVSRLOHGDQGPDUUHG´ VXJJHVWVWKDWKHKDVLQWHUQDOL]HG the vocabulary of merchandise. The suggestion that the ostensibly idle gentleman PD\KDYHVRPHWKLQJRIWKHPHUFKDQWLQKLPLVVRPHWKLQJZH¿QGHOVHZKHUHLQ FLWL]HQFRPHG\LQWKHVHFRQGSDUWRI7KRPDV+H\ZRRG¶V,IWKH@ODERUWKDWKDGKXUWPHHIRULWFDPHLQD WXUQHDQGVRLQP\GDXQFH,WXUQHGLWRXWRIP\VHUYLFHDJDLQH´4KLV¿QDOGDQFHLQWR Norwich, he tells readers, involves “great labor” and “toyling”: “with great labor ,JRWWKRURZWKDWQDUURZSUHD]HLQWRWKHRSHQPDUNHWSODFH:KHUHRQWKHFURVVH ready prepared, stood the Citty Waytes, which not a little refreshed my weariness ZLWKWR\OLQJWKRURZVRQDUURZDODQHDVWKHSHRSOHOHIWPH´&U 6LJQL¿FDQWO\KH reports with pride that the buskins he wore from London dancing into Norwich were QDLOHGWRWKH*XLOGKDOOZDOO'U KLVODERUWKXVEHFRPHVKRQRUHGE\DQGDVVRFLDWHG with the established institution of respectable, skilled labor. He also consistently describes himself in physical terms, in that way taking part in available discourses economic divisions that are not fully applicable to early modern England. Kastan, “Is There D&ODVVLQWKLV6KDNHVSHDUHDQ 7H[W"´5HQDLVVDQFH'UDPD   63&HUDVDQR³7KH&KDPEHUODLQ¶V.LQJ¶V0HQ´LQ$&RPSDQLRQWR6KDNHVSHDUH HG 'DYLG6FRWW.DVWDQ0DOGHQ0$%ODFNZHOO3XEOLVKHUV  4 Will Kempe, Nine Daies Wonder /RQGRQ %)XUWKHUUHIHUHQFHVDUHJLYHQ parenthetically in the text.

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of the working man. What shows up most explicitly in .HPSH¶V1LQH'DLHV:RQGHU are celebratory discourses of the male working body. As with many working men, Kempe’s physical vitality is a source of celebration—we see in his account how the strength and power of the working body is a crucial component of masculine pride. Morris dancing was physically demanding and highly skilled, and Kempe emphasises his own athleticism in his account: under good conditions he dances WHQPLOHVLQWKUHHKRXUVDQGLV³VROLJKW«RQ>KLV@KHHOHVWKDW>KH@FRXQW>V@WKHWHQ PLOHQREHWWHUWKDQDOHDSH´&U 7KHGLVWDQFHEHWZHHQ/RQGRQDQG1RUZLFKLV more than one hundred miles, and road conditions in the sixteenth century were not good: his endeavor was an impressive one. His fans try to keep up, but with limited success: two young men who dance in the mud with him on day four get stuck there %U DEXWFKHUJLYHVXSDIWHUDKDOIPLOH³HUHHYHUZHKDGPHDVXU¶GKDOIHDPLOH RIRXUZD\KHJDYHPHRYHULQWKHSODLQ¿HOGSURWHVWLQJWKDWLIKHPLJKWJHWD SRXQGKHZRXOGQRWKROGRXWZLWKPH´ %U WKH+RVWRI5RFNODQGPDQDJHVWR IROORZKLPIRURQO\WZR¿HOGVDOWKRXJKKHVHWRXWWREHKLVJXLGHIURP5RFNODQG WR+LQJKDP&U DQGZKHQKHOHDYHV+LQJKDPIRU1RUZLFKWKH¿YH\RXQJPHQ GHWHUPLQHGWRVWD\E\KLVVLGHDUH³UXQQLQJDOOWKHZD\´&U ,QWHUHVWLQJO\WZR ZKRGRUHODWLYHO\ZHOOGDQFLQJZLWK.HPSHDUH\RXQJZRPHQDIRXUWHHQ\HDUROG PDLGDQGD³/XVW\&RXQWU\ODVVH´%XWHYHQWKHIRXUWHHQ\HDUROGLV³UHDG\WRO\H GRZQH´%U DIWHUDQKRXUDQGWKHFRXQWU\ODVVLVLQD³SLWWLRXVKHDWH´DIWHUDPLOH. .HPSH¶VERG\KHWHOOVXVLVRQHZLWK³ZHOOODERU¶GOLPEHV´KLV³SDFHLQGDXQFLQJ LVQRWRUGLQDU\´%U DQG³QRWIRUIRRWHPHQ´&U±&Y 7KXVZKLOHSRVLWLRQLQJ himself within a discourse that celebrates the capacity for physical exertion of the laboring man, he also asserts his professional status: he is a professional at this SDUWLFXODUIRUPRIPDQO\SK\VLFDOZRUNDVHYLGHQFHGE\KLVRXWSHUIRUPDQFHRI these ordinary working folk. He shows the pride of the tradesman at his skill, in this FDVHGDQFLQJLQKLVJRRGQDWXUHGERDVWLQJ .HPSH¶VSURZHVVH[FLWHVFKHHUDQGSOHDVXUHIURPWKHYHU\EHJLQQLQJWKHUH DUHFURZGVRIDGPLULQJZHOOZLVKHUVIROORZLQJ³WKURXJKWKLFNHDQGWKLQ´%U  JLYLQJPRQH\³KDUW\SUD\HUVDQG*RGVSHHGHV´$U %\GD\WKUHHWKH³¿IWLHLQ WKHFRPSDQLH´%U RIWKHSUHYLRXVGD\KDVVZHOOHGWRWZRKXQGUHGRQGD\VL[KLV spectacle hijacks that of the Chief Justice of Bury, who was entering the town at another gate at the same time as Kempe, only to have the “wondring and regardless PXOWLWXGH«>OHDYH@WKHVWUHHWHVZKHUHKHSDVWWRJDSHDW´.HPSHLQVWHDG&U  .HPSH¶VSK\VLFDOO\DFWLYHERG\LVDYLVXDOO\H[FLWLQJRQHDVLWHRIDHVWKHWLFYDOXH 7KLVLVQRWVXUSULVLQJWKHHDUO\PRGHUQWKHDWHURSHUDWHGRQWKHDVVXPSWLRQWKDW there was pleasure in viewing the male body, and many plays make clear that a particular mode of that pleasure was in watching the strong male body at work. Plays such as Thomas Dekker’s 7KH6KRHPDNHU¶V+ROLGD\, William Rowley’s A 6KRHPDNHU $ *HQWOHPDQ, John Lyly’s 6DSSKR DQG 3KDR, and Robert Greene’s *HRUJHD*UHHQHWKH3LQQHURI:DNH¿HOG, to name a few, offer up the laboring man’s body as an interesting and exciting spectacle, visually foregrounding his manly strength and skill and in many instances staging work, foregrounding the tools of skilled labor, or narrating its processes. In 7KH6KRHPDNHU¶V+ROLGD\, for

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instance, which enacts the production of shoes onstage, skilled labor, productivity, DQG YLJRURXV ZRUNKDUGHQHG ERGLHV GH¿QH (QJOLVK PDVFXOLQLW\ DQG FODLPV to political power and social status for artisans are forged on the basis of this masculinity. Despite their trade company associations, the status of professional players as gainfully employed workers was contested, as many scholars of the early modern commercial theater have discussed, most recently Tom Rutter. Players’ performances of manly strength and skilled labor in plays such as the above worked to associate them with the manly working men of the skilled trades ZKHUH PDQ\ RI WKHP LQ IDFW KDG SHUVRQDO FRQQHFWLRQV this alignment might KDYHEHHQLQUHVSRQVHWRDQWLWKHDWULFDOFULWLTXHVRIWKHLULGOHHIIHPLQDF\.HPSH¶V dance participates in this dramatic aesthetic of the physically powerful working body on display and in the ideological work of constructing the player’s body as at one with the vital, skilled, industrious laboring body. 6L[WHHQWKDQGVHYHQWHHQWKFHQWXU\PDVFXOLQLWLHVZHUHGH¿QHGDWRQFHWKURXJK and in opposition to the body. Ideal masculinity, most often associated with elite men, was according to dominant discourses achieved through outward signs RI ERGLO\ VWUHQJWK DQG UH¿QHPHQW DV ZHOO DV WKURXJK FRQWUROOLQJ SDVVLRQV DQG desires that were understood to originate from the body—any excess of sorrow, anger, vengefulness, appetite, lust, etc., could be considered unmanly behavior. Displaying the characteristics of what Mikhail Bakhtin has termed the closed or classical body, ideal masculinity distanced itself from the body’s messy passions



See Ronda Arab, “Work, Bodies, and Gender in 7KH 6KRHPDNHU¶V +ROLGD\,” 0HGLHYDODQG5HQDLVVDQFH'UDPDLQ(QJODQG ±  Rutter, :RUN DQG 3OD\ RQ WKH 6KDNHVSHDUHDQ 6WDJH &DPEULGJH &DPEULGJH 8QLYHUVLW\ 3UHVV   5XWWHU DUJXHV WKDW ³LQ UHSUHVHQWDWLRQV RI DFWRUV RQ WKH SXEOLF VWDJHRIWKHVWKHDWHUSURIHVVLRQDOVPDGHDFRQVFLRXVHIIRUWWRUHVSRQGWR>WKHFKDUJH WKDW DFWLQJ ZDV DQ LOOHJLWLPDWH RFFXSDWLRQ@ SRUWUD\LQJ DFWRUV DV VNLOOHG DQG LQGXVWULRXV FUDIWVPHQ´ 7KLVDVSHFWRIKLVDUJXPHQWLVVLPLODUWRP\DUJXPHQWDERXW:LOO.HPSH although Rutter does not explore the aesthetics and politics of the body of the laboring man ZKHWKHUWKHDWULFDORUFUDIW QRUKLVPDVFXOLQLW\  Trade company membership was widespread among actors, owners, managers, and playhouse builders. See David Kathman, “Grocers, Goldsmiths, and Drapers: Freemen and $SSUHQWLFHVLQWKH(OL]DEHWKDQ7KHDWHU´6KDNHVSHDUH4XDUWHUO\ ±IRUD thorough account of the imbrication of the world of the trade companies and the world of WKHFRPPHUFLDOWKHDWHU6HHDOVR5RVO\Q.QXWVRQIRUHYLGHQFHRIORQJKHOGSHUVRQDODQG professional guild practices that were common among theater workers, who, she argues, probably accepted them as the norm because of their craft guild backgrounds: Playing &RPSDQLHVDQG&RPPHUFHLQ6KDNHVSHDUH¶V7LPH&DPEULGJH&DPEULGJH8QLYHUVLW\3UHVV  3DXOIXVV\@´   about food and drink. Thomas Proctor, in 2IWKH.QRZOHGJHDQG&RQGXFWRI Warres, concurs, railing that “delicate custome, and licentious living spoyled of all valure” and arguing that working men make the best men of war: IRU WKHLU H[HUF\VH RU WUDGH RI O\IH ¿UVW LW LV FOHDUH WKDW WKH VWURQJHU EHWWHU breathed, and harder man of bodie by nature or custome, is the more avaylable for warres: and therefore it is to conclude, that men of such occupations, as are accustomed most to labor with the strength of their armes, are to bee preferred for this purpose, as smythes, butchers, masons, dyggers in mynes, Carpenters, & most principallye the husbandman, both for his wonted enduringe of hardnes in IDUHDQGRIDOOZHDWKHUVDQGWR\OHLQWKH¿HOGHEHHLQJHDOVRIRUWKHPRUHSDUWHRI honest inclination, & thriftie, which be good partes in a souldier. And the daintier VRUWHRIVHUYLQJPHQ ULRWRXVIHOORZVDUHOHDVWSUR¿WDEOHKHUHLQ±

Admiring, respecting, celebrating, or simply acknowledging enhanced strength and vigor built up from physical labor, military and health manuals provide an account of the male worker’s body that underwrites literary representations found in plays, ballads, and Will Kempe’s autobiographical account. In their intersection with new religious discourses promoting activity over monastic learning and



Elyot, &DVWHORI+HDOWK/RQGRQ Y The texts of both Cogan and Elyot were published multiple times in the early modern period. Elyot’s &DVWHO RI +HDOWK ZDV SXEOLVKHG DW OHDVW WHQ WLPHV EHWZHHQ  DQG&RJDQ¶V+DYHQRI+HDOWKZDVSXEOLVKHGDWOHDVWVHYHQWLPHVEHWZHHQDQG   Barry, $'LVFRXUVHRI0LOLWDU\'LVFLSOLQH'HYLGHGLQWR7KUHH%RRFNHV'HFODULQJ WKH3DUWHVDQG6XI¿FLHQFLH2UGDLQHGLQD3ULYDWH6RXOGLHUDQGLQ(DFK2I¿FHU%UXVVHOV  )XUWKHUUHIHUHQFHVDUHJLYHQSDUHQWKHWLFDOO\LQWKHWH[W  Sutcliffe, 7KH3UDFWLFH3URFHHGLQJDQG/DZHVRI$UPHV/RQGRQ   Proctor, 2I WKH .QRZOHGJH DQG &RQGXFW RI :DUUHV /RQGRQ    )XUWKHU references are given parenthetically in the text. 

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work over idleness, accounts such as these directly and indirectly write the active, lowborn body as a particularly English Protestant one. Kempe’s masculine strength, like that of the shoemaker’s in Dekker’s play, -DFNRI1HZEXU\¶VZHDYHUVDQGWKH¿HUFHDSSUHQWLFHVROGLHUVRIVRPDQ\EDOODGV embodies some of the manly traits most valued by cultural authorities, but is of a rougher hue than those associated with elite men in early modern literary representations. Yet high canons of bodily behavior were not uniformly valued: WKHVXDYHFRROFRQWUROOHGFRXUWLHUZLWKKLVSHUIHFWO\UH¿QHGERGLO\FRXQWHQDQFH IRU H[DPSOH ZDV VRPHWLPHV VHHQ DV LQ GDQJHU RI HIIHPLQL]DWLRQ WKURXJK RYHUUH¿QHPHQW. The denial of vulgar corporeality involved cultivating a perfectly groomed exterior that could be seen as dangerously similar to the feminine realm of DUWL¿FHIDVKLRQDQGVXSHU¿FLDOLW\XQGHUPLQLQJWKHVWUHQJWKRIWKHVHOIFRQWDLQHG “classical” body. 7KHURXJKHUFRUSRUHDOLW\RIWKHVWURQJERGLHGZRUNLQJPDQRQWKHRWKHUKDQG evidenced the manly humor of blood, which in turn produced the heat that was UHVSRQVLEOHIRU¿HUFHIHDUOHVVDFWLRQ3DVVLRQDWHDFWLRQZDVDQWLWKHWLFDOWRUHDVRQ the highest achievement of manliness, attained through a perfect balance of the ERGLO\KXPRUV\HWLIDSHUIHFWUHDVRQDEOHWHPSHUDPHQWFRXOGQRWEHDFKLHYHG² DQGDQDWRPLVWVFRQFHGHGWKDWLWUDUHO\FRXOG²³WKHVHFRQGEHVW>ZDV@IRUEORRG to dominate the other humors” because an aggressive, forceful manliness could be a “reviving force.” Thus, in Shakespeare’s +HQU\,93DUW Hotspur’s heated ferocity elicits admiration from the king and is not only compared favorably WRWKHGLVVROXWH3ULQFH+DOXQWLO+DOUHIRUPV EXWDOVRWRWKH³QHDWDQGWULPO\ dress’d”ORUGZKREULQJVPHVVDJHVWRWKHEDWWOH¿HOGDQGLVSUHVHQWHGDVDSDURG\ RIFRXUWO\UH¿QHPHQWZLWK³KLVFKLQQHZUHDS¶G´ KLVERG\³SHUIXPHG OLNHDPLOOLQHU´ DQGKLVVSHHFKSHSSHUHGZLWK³KROLGD\DQGODG\WHUPV´   +RWVSXU H[HPSOL¿HV XQFRQWUROOHG PDVFXOLQH KHDW²DGPLUDEOH \HW WRR excessive to be a perfect exemplar of ideal manliness. Kempe embodies the same admirable, quintessentially English vigor as Hotspur, but without his uncontrolled H[FHVVLQWKLVZD\KHRIIHUVDJUHDWHUFKDOOHQJHWRHOLWHFDQRQVRIPDVFXOLQLW\WKDQ +RWVSXULQWKDWKHLVQHLWKHUWRRKRWOLNHWKHDULVWRFUDWLFZDUULRUQRUWRRUH¿QHG like the perfumed courtier. .HPSH¶V1LQH'DLHV:RQGHU likewise demonstrates how celebrations of the working man might eschew elite dictates of “classical” perfection and instead be grounded in characteristics of the Bakhtinian “open body.” Kempe makes a JUHDW GHDO RI WKH LQMXU\ KH VXVWDLQV HDUO\ RQ LQ KLV MRXUQH\ RQ WKH VHFRQG GD\ RI GDQFLQJ KH VWUDLQV KLV KLS DQG ³LQGXUH>V@ H[FHHGLQJ SDLQH´ EXW GHFLGHV QRW WR ³WURXEOH D 6XUJHRQ´ %U  DQG GDQFHV RQ +HUH WKH ERGLO\ LQWHJULW\ DQG ZKROHQHVV RI WKH LGHDOL]HG HOLWH PDQO\ ERG\ DUH FKDOOHQJHG DV TXDOLWLHV 

Smith, 6KDNHVSHDUHDQG0DVFXOLQLW\ William Shakespeare, +HQU\,9, in 7KH1RUWRQ6KDNHVSHDUH%DVHGRQWKH2[IRUG Edition, HGV 6WHSKHQ*UHHQEODWWHWDO1HZ,@KDGVPDOOUHVWZLWKWKRVHWKDWZRXOGKDYHXUJ¶GPHWRGULQNLQJ%XW,ZDUUDQW you, Will Kemp was wise enough: to their full cups, kinde thanks was my returne, with Gentleman like protestations, as ‘truly, sir, I dare not,’ ‘It stands QRWZLWKWKHFRQJUXLW\RIP\KHDOWK¶$U

Here, Kempe demonstrates his ability to perform the forms of elite, masculine FLYLOLW\ LQ ERWK KLV PRGHUDWLRQ DQG LQ KLV ³JHQWOHPDQ OLNH´ VSHHFK PRGHUDWLRQ was the bulwark of gentility, according to Richard Braithwaite, because it was “a VXEGXHURIRXUGHVLUHVWRWKHREHGLHQFHRI5HDVRQDQGDWHPSHUDWHFRQIRUPHURI DOORXUDIIHFWLRQVIUHHLQJWKHPIURPWKHWRRPXFKVXEMHFWLRQHLWKHURIGHVLUHVRU feare,” and it was “a note of distinction betwixt man and beast.” It was moderate physical appetite that led to balanced bodily humors, and in turn, the desired reasonable temperament. The theme of moderation is again reinforced in Kempe’s recording of a conversation between himself and a gentleman, Master Foskew, “that had before trauailed a foote from London to Barwick.” Foskew, veteran of WKHURDGVJLYHV.HPSH³JRRGFRQVDLOHWRREVHUXHWHPSHUDWHG\HWIRU>KLV@KHDOWK DQG RWKHU DGXLVH WR EHH FDUHIXOO RI >KLV@ FRPSDQ\´ %U  7KH MX[WDSRVLWLRQ RI GLVFRXUVHV DW WKLV PRPHQW LV WHOOLQJ WHPSHUDWH GLHW WKDW LQVXUHU RI PDVFXOLQH reason and health, is discussed alongside a warning about the dangers of Kempe’s mingling in bad company. One begins to see something more in Kempe’s insistence  Braithwaite, 7KH(QJOLVK*HQWOHPDQ/RQGRQ$PVWHUGDP 1RUZRRG1- :DOWHU--RKQVRQ,QF 

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RQKLVPRGHUDWLRQDFRQFHUQZLWKKLVRZQUHSXWDWLRQWKDWPLJKWEHFKDUDFWHUL]HG DVDQLQWHUQDOL]DWLRQRIUHJXODWRU\GLVFRXUVHVRIWKHGRPLQDQWKLHUDUFKLFDOFXOWXUH that constructed the player as dissolute and the working man as indulgent of his bodily appetites. Kempe does not, his account lets us know, pass the time between dances raising a glass in the tavern with bad or good company. This concern with reputation is evident throughout Kempe’s account, and suggests his simultaneous SDUWLFLSDWLRQ LQ DQG PRGL¿FDWLRQ RI FRQWHPSRUDU\ GLVFRXUVHV WKDW GHQLJUDWHG working men’s masculinity. Kempe’s assertion of his moderate habits performs textually a congruence EHWZHHQWKHH[SHULHQFHVRIZRUNLQJPHQDQGHOLWHGLVFRXUVHVRIPDVFXOLQLW\KH FUHDWHVDUH¿QHGZRUNLQJPDQ His assertion of his moderation, with all it suggests DERXW FDUHIXO VHOIUHJXODWLRQ FDQ EH XQGHUVWRRG DV DQ HOHPHQW RI D GHIHQVLYH anxiety that runs through the text. It is clear that Kempe is well aware of certain negative constructions of the working man, and in particular, of the “professional player” that abounded in his society. The respectability of any sort of theatrical DFWLYLW\ZDVGXELRXVWRVRPHVHJPHQWVRIWKHSRSXODWLRQ.HPSH¶VGDQFHIURP London to Norwich occurs at a time when conservative preachers and other social authorities railed against dancing, the theater, and wandering the countryside. Dancing the countryside might easily be construed as akin to wandering it, an activity associated with vagrants and “masterless” men, an association that would have seemed especially threatening when the man dancing was himself a masterless commoner and gathering large crowds—potential breeding grounds of riot, sedition, and all manner of crime—in his wake. In celebrating his own dance as a form of labor, rather than mere roguish idleness, Kempe simultaneously defends himself against these imagined accusations. ,QWKHXQVWDEOHVRFLRHFRQRPLFSHULRGRIVL[WHHQWKDQGVHYHQWHHQWKFHQWXU\ England, enclosures were denying many their traditional access to land, and an impoverished rural SUROHWDULDW ZDV FUHDWHG DV D UHVXOW XQHPSOR\HG RU underemployed craftsmen, farm workers, and other laborers often participated LQIRRGULRWVDQGRWKHUSURWHVWV7KHVLQSDUWLFXODUZHUHDSHULRGRIVRFLDO LQVWDELOLW\DQGXQUHVW 5RJHU%0DQQLQJFLWHVWKLUW\¿YHRXWEUHDNVRIGLVRUGHU LQ/RQGRQEHWZHHQDQG Some of the least privileged of the working classes, along with discharged soldiers, wandered the countryside seeking work, EHJJLQJ RU WKLHYLQJ 6XFK SHRSOH ZHUH IUHTXHQWO\ VWLJPDWL]HG DV YDJUDQWV DQG VXEMHFW WR WKH VWULFWXUHV RI (OL]DEHWKDQ SRRU ODZV$EOH ERGLHV XQWHWKHUHG IURP 

(3&KH\QH\FKDUDFWHUL]HVWKHVDVDSHULRGRIFULVLVSODJXHKDUYHVWIDLOXUH PDVVLYH SULFH LQÀDWLRQ KHDY\ WD[DWLRQ GHSUHVVLRQ LQ RYHUVHDV WUDGH DQG LQ WKH YROXPH RIGRPHVWLFGHPDQGODUJHVFDOHXQHPSOR\PHQWDQGHVFDODWLQJFULPHDQGYDJUDQF\6HH Ian Archer, 7KH3XUVXLWRI6WDELOLW\6RFLDO5HODWLRQVLQ(OL]DEHWKDQ/RQGRQ&DPEULGJH &DPEULGJH8QLYHUVLW\3UHVV (YHQ6WHYHQ5DSSDSRUWZKRDUJXHVIRUWKHHVVHQWLDO VWDELOLW\RI/RQGRQLQWKHVL[WHHQWKFHQWXU\DJUHHVWKDWWKH¿QDOGHFDGHZDVDWXPXOWXRXV one: see Rappaport, Worlds Within Worlds: The Structure of Life in Sixteenth-Century London &DPEULGJH&DPEULGJH8QLYHUVLW\3UHVV ±  Manning, 9LOODJH 5HYROWV: 6RFLDO 3URWHVW DQG 3RSXODU 'LVWXUEDQFHV LQ (QJODQG ±2[IRUG&ODUHQGRQ3UHVV 

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WKHSDWULDUFKDODXWKRULW\RIDKRXVHKROGZRUNVKRSRUXQFRQWUROOHGE\WKHPDVWHUV of the household to which they belonged, were viewed as a potential threat to the social and political order. A description by John Stow makes clear what a formidable force of destruction a crowd of London rioters might unleash: The Apprentices of London are so considerable a Body, that they have sometimes made themselves formidable by Insurrection and Mutinies in the City, getting some Thousands of them together, and pulling down Houses, breaking open the Gates of Newgate, and other Prisons, and setting the Prisoners free. … But they have been commonly assisted, and often egged on and headed by Apprentices RIWKH'UHJVRIWKH9XOJDU)HOORZVYRLGRIZRUWK\%ORRGDQGZRUWK\%UHHGLQJ yea, perhaps not apprentices at all, but forlorn Companions, masterless Men, and Tradeless, and the like.

In this vision of the crowd, protesting tradesmen are joined with and become not fully distinguishable from vagrants, rogues, and thieves. .HPSHLVDPDVWHUOHVVPDQDQGDPRUHWKDQDEOHERG\DWDWLPHZKHQVRFLDO WHQVLRQVPHDQWWKDWWKHFHOHEUDWHGVWURQJORZERUQERG\FRXOGDOVREHDVFDU\ body. Leveraging his claim to respectability through insisting on his professional status, he construes his working masculinity in terms of temperance, moderation, and skill, as well as strength and vigor, and thereby diffuses its threat. Although KH JDWKHUV FURZGV KH LV FOHDUO\ QRW D -DFN &DGH WKH DUWLVDQ UHEHOOHDGHU LQ Shakespeare’s +HQU\9,²DUROHKHOLNHO\SOD\HGLQWKHV²DV&DGHDQGKLV IHOORZDUWLVDQUHEHOVZLWKWKHLUZRUNKDUGHQHGERGLHVDQGWKHWRROVRIWKHLUWUDGHV use their power, skills, and weapons to generate bloody disorder and challenge social hierarchy. For all his obvious exultation in the crowds’ adoration, Kempe insists that he tries to get away from them, and is not, like the charismatic Cade, intentionally creating them: “in the evening I tript to Ingerstone, stealing away from those numbers of people that followed mee: yet do what I could, I had about ¿IWLH LQ WKH FRPSDQ\ VRPH IURP /RQGRQ WKH RWKHU RI WKH &RXQWU\ WKHUHDERXW that would needs when they heard my Taber, trudge after me through thicke and WKLQ´%U $OWKRXJK.HPSH¶VYHQWXUHZRXOGKDYHEHHQDIDLOXUHKDGQRRQHWDNHQ note of it, he nevertheless wants to claim that the crowds gather against his will. Moreover, he reacts vehemently to the arrest of two cutpurses and their companions taken in the crowd that followed him from London, fervently dissociating himself IURPWKHPDQGDOOWKHLUORWZKHQRI¿FHUVTXHU\WKHSRVVLELOLW\RIDQDVVRFLDWLRQ  See Manning, 9LOODJH5HYROWV$/%HLHU0DVWHUOHVV0HQ7KH9DJUDQF\3UREOHP LQ (QJODQG ± /RQGRQ 0HWKHXQ   Buchanan Sharp, ,Q &RQWHPSW RI $OO $XWKRULW\ 5XUDO $UWLVDQV DQG 5LRW LQ WKH :HVW RI (QJODQG ± %HUNHOH\ 8QLYHUVLW\ RI &DOLIRUQLD 3UHVV   DQG 3DWULFLD )XPHUWRQ Unsettled: The Culture of 0RELOLW\DQGWKH:RUNLQJ3RRULQ(DUO\0RGHUQ(QJODQG&KLFDJR8QLYHUVLW\RI&KLFDJR 3UHVV   John Stow, 6WRZ¶V6XUYH\RI/RQGRQ/RQGRQ'HQW ±  See Ronda Arab, “Ruthless Power and Ambivalent Glory: The Rebel Laborer in  +HQU\9,,” Journal for Early Modern Cultural Studies ±

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:KHUHXSRQWKHRI¿FHUVEULQJLQJWKHPWRWKHLQQ,MXVWO\GHQLHGWKHLUDFTXDLQWDQFH VDYLQJ,UHPHPEUHGRQHRIWKHPWREHDQRWHG&XWSXUVHVXFKDRQHDVZHW\H to a poast on our stage, for all people to wonder at, when at a play they are taken pilfering. … To be short, I thought myselfe well rid of foure such followers, and ,ZLVKKDUWLO\WKDWWKHZKROHZRUOGZHUHFOHDURIVXFKFRPSDQLRQV%U

7KDWWKHRI¿FHUVEURXJKWWKHWKLHYHVWRWKHLQQZKHUH.HPSHZDVVWD\LQJVXJJHVWV that they may have suspected a criminal alliance between them, indicating that Kempe may well have had reason to be defensive about his activity. Kempe is DOPRVW DFFXVHG RI EHLQJ DQ DFFRPSOLFH WKH SRWHQWLDO IRU WKH PRUULVGDQFLQJ journeyer to be taken for a vagrant thief is clear here. Perhaps this is the sort of WKLQJ WKH ³O\LQJ %DOODGPDNHUV´ $U  ZURWH DERXW ZKRP .HPSH UDLOV DJDLQVW over and over. Near the beginning, in passages within, and in a “KXPEOHUHTXHVW” 'U DWWKHHQGRIKLVDFFRXQW.HPSHPDLQWDLQVDVRQHRIKLVREMHFWLYHVVHWWLQJ the record straight against these “pittifull papers, pasted on every poast, of that ZKLFK ZDV QHLWKHU VR QRU VR´ 'U  7KH Nine Daies Wonder LV .HPSH¶V VHOI ³VSLQ´KHLVZUHVWLQJFRQWURORIKLVLPDJHIURPRWKHUVZKRKDYHWDNHQKLVSHUVRQ DQG³QHHUKDQGUHQW>LW@LQVXQGHUZLWK>WKHLU@XQUHDVRQDEOHULPHV´'U  Kempe’s other explicit purpose in publishing his account is his “duety to expresse ZLWKWKDQNHIXOQHVVWKHNLQGHQWHUWDLQPHQW>KH@IRXQG´'U 7KLVPRWLYHVHHPV LQWHJUDOO\ERXQGXSZLWKKLVGHVLUHWRSUHVHQWKLPVHOIDVDQKRQHVWVREHUFLWL]HQ,W LVGLI¿FXOWQRWWRUHDGWKHGHGLFDWLRQRIVRPXFKVSDFHWRWKHUHSXWDEOHJHQWOHPHQ DQGJHQWOHZRPHQZKRRIIHUKLPKRVSLWDOLW\DVDQDPHGURSSLQJUHPLQGHUWRKLV detractors that he has worthy supporters. He begins with a dedicatory epistle to 0LVWUHVV$QQH)LWWRQPDLGRIKRQRUWR4XHHQ(OL]DEHWKVHHNLQJKHU³SURWHFWLRQ´ Kempe behaves here like the actor he in fact was, seeking aristocratic endorsement to legitimate his theatrical activity, and to keep it outside of the discursive realm of the vagrant wanderer. He then begins his account by noting that the expedition VWDUWHGRQWKH¿UVW0RQGD\RI/HQW²WKXVPDQDJLQJDQDOOXVLRQWRDVFHWLFLVP²DQG describes it as a journey “from the right Honorable the Lord Mayors of London, WRZDUGVWKHULJKWZRUVKLSIXOODQGWUXO\ERXQWLIXOO 0DVWHU0D\RUVRI1RUZLFK´ $U WKXVIUDPLQJLWEHWZHHQWZRSLOODUVRIUHVSHFWDELOLW\DQGDXWKRULW\'XULQJ the weeks that follow he is given hospitality by many: At Melford, divers gentlemen met mee, who brought me to one master Colts, a very kinde and worshipful Gentleman, where I had unexpected entertainment WLOOWKH6DWWHUGD\%U

After dancing on the Saturday mentioned above, he has dinner at a rich widow’s, with about thirty gentlemen—a “woman of good presence: and if a foole may MXGJH RI QR VPDOO GLVFUHWLRQ´ %U $ ZHHN ODWHU D 6LU (GZLQ 5LFK JLYHV KLP 

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³HQWHUWDLQPHQW LQ VXFK ERXQWLIXOO OLEHUDO VRUW GXULQJ >KLV@ FRQWLQXDQFH WKHUH 6DWWHUGD\DQG6XQGD\´WKDW.HPSHIHHOVKHLVDWDORVVIRUZRUGV³,ZDQW¿WZRUGV WR H[SUHVVH WKH OHDVW SDUW RI KLV ZRUWK\ XVDJH RI P\ XQZRUWKLQHVV´ &U±&Y  Kempe becomes even more effusive when he reaches Norwich and receives “plenty of good chere at the Mayors,” declaring, his bounty, and kinde usage together with the general welcomes of his worshipful brethren, and many other knightes, Ladies, Gentlemen and Gentlewomen, so much exceeded my expectation, as I adjudg’d my selfe most bound to them DOO'U 

,QLWVVHOIQDUUDWLRQDQGVHOISHUIRUPDQFH.HPSH¶V1LQH'DLHV:RQGHU presents the complex, often contested constructions of masculinity mapped onto the male working body in general, and that of the player in particular. Kempe presents himself as a physically powerful man who embodies many of the positive traits WKDW GLVFRXUVHV RI WKH HDUO\ PRGHUQ ZRUNLQJ PDQ FRQVWUXFWHG .HPSH¶V VHOI alignment with discourses of the manly, vigorous working man seems intended to confute contemporary attacks on playing. At the same time, while associating himself with working bodies in general, he must distance himself from the other working bodies he comes into contact with in order to assert playing as a trade. 7KHUHPXVWEHDGLVWLQFWLRQEHWZHHQKLVGDQFLQJDELOLWLHVDQGWKRVHRIWKHZHOO ZLVKHUVZKRMRLQKLPDORQJKLVURXWHIRUKLVDFWLYLW\WREHWKDWRIDSURIHVVLRQDO his skill at it must surpass the skills of his amateur fans. But while Kempe’s text is full of mirth and merriment, it is clear that he is well aware of negative constructions of the working man when he tells his readers of his refusal of all GULQN ZKHQ KH ODPHQWV WKH GLI¿FXOW\ RI GLVSHOOLQJ WKH FURZGV WKDW IROORZ KLP when he vehemently disassociates himself from the cutpurses found in that crowd, and associates himself with as many respectable names as possible. These aspects of Kempe’s pamphlet show his vulnerability to the cultural construction of the powerful working man as a threat to social order, a potential force of destruction. In order to reclaim the player as a respectable working man, he must contend with these discourses. Discursive constructions of the working man have been understudied in scholarship on early modern literary masculinity, and most studies that do exist give little attention to seeking out the means by which working men of the early modern period represented themselves. .HPSH¶V1LQH'DLHV:RQGHU, written by a VHOILGHQWL¿HGZRUNLQJPDQRIIHUVDUDUHJOLPSVHRIDZRUNLQJPDQUHOD\LQJKLV RZQYHUVLRQRIKLVH[SHULHQFHRIPDVFXOLQHVXEMHFWLYLW\DVDFXOWXUDOFRQVWUXFWLRQ RIDZRUNLQJPDQ¶VVXEMHFWLYLW\ZULWWHQE\DVHOILGHQWL¿HGZRUNLQJPDQLWVWDQGV as a particularly valuable historical artifact.

 They show as well how the literary “no bad intentions” topos can emerge out of actual material conditions.

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The Rogues’ Paradox: 5HGH¿QLQJ:RUNLQ7KH$OFKHPLVt (OL]DEHWK5LYOLQ

Ben Jonson’s 7KH $OFKHPLVW opens with a cultural cliché about the dangers of leaving a servant idle. With the plague having descended upon London, a master, Lovewit, leaves his house in the City to the care of his servant, Face. But his trust proves to be misplaced: Ease him corrupted, and gave means to know $FKHDWHUDQGKLVSXQNZKRQRZEURXJKWORZ Leaving their narrow practice, were become &R]HQHUVDWODUJHDQGRQO\ZDQWLQJVRPH House to set up, with him they here contract, Each for a share, and all begin to act.

7KH WUDQVLWLRQ IURP GH¿QDEOH ³SUDFWLFH´ WR ZLGHUDQJLQJ FULPLQDO HQWHUSULVH LV GLVSRVHGRITXLFNO\)DFHPHUJHVVHDPOHVVO\ZLWKWKH³FR]HQHUV´6XEWOHDQG'RO Together, the three move beyond petty crime to pursue a more expansive scheme. The Argument thus presages an apparent evolution: 7KH$OFKHPLVW¶VDQWLKHURHV FKHDWQDUURZGH¿QLWLRQVRIZRUNDQGUHFUHDWHWKHPVHOYHVDVJOHHIXODJHQWVLQD EXUJHRQLQJPDUNHWHFRQRP\RILQYHVWPHQWDQGSUR¿W,GOHQHVVDQGFULPLQDOLW\DUH transformed into a mode of work that paradoxically promises freedom from labor. 2QD¿UVWUHDGLQJ7KH$OFKHPLVWPLJKWWKXVVHHPWREHDERXWUHGH¿QLQJZRUNLQ terms of an emerging capitalist ethos, one that provides greater opportunity for subjects on the periphery of the economy to gain productive entry. Yet the possibility of construing the rogues’ aversion to labor as compatible with this ethos is complicated in 7KH$OFKHPLVW by the continued presence of hierarchical structures of service, which prove indispensable to the livelihoods, and perhaps HYHQWKHVXUYLYDORIWKHVHPDUJLQDO¿JXUHV7KHSOD\LPSOLHVDGLYLVLRQEHWZHHQ older forms of labor, associated with subservience, physicality, and toil, and newer 

Ben Jonson, 7KH$OFKHPLVWHG (OL]DEHWK&RRN/RQGRQDQG1HZ±@ DQGVKHSORWVWRUHOLHYH'DPH 3OLDQW RI KHU MHZHOV   0RUHRYHU 'RO¶V SURVWLWXWLRQ DV WKH SOD\ SRUWUD\V it, involves meticulous planning and work that go far beyond the labors of sex itself. In readying herself for a sexual encounter, Face notes that “she must prepare SHUIXPHVGHOLFDWHOLQHQ7KHEDWKLQFKLHIDEDQTXHWDQGKHUZLW´±  It is evident from such examples that prostitution is part of broader commercial prospects. The prostitute’s lack of circumspection applies as well, Howard maintains, to her ability to work her trade virtually anywhere and in virtually any guise, truisms borne out by Dol as she plies her sexual wares in Lovewit’s “respectable” Blackfriars house and in disguise as a noblewoman. There is an implied fungibility between Dol’s props and skills and those possessed by women of high rank who similarly rely on personal and luxurious enticements to woo suitors on the marriage market. Prostitution proves particularly malleable for Dol, allowing her both to engage in multiple facets of the commercial economy and to translate herself believably from a woman of sexual and other petty commerce to a virginal lord’s sister involved in an elite marital commerce. The interchange between gender and economics allows Dol to impersonate classed identities that are beyond the pale for Face and Subtle. In some ways, Dol is reminiscent of the increasingly FRPPHUFLDOL]HG IHPDOH VHUYDQW ZKRVH WKUHDW RI GLVRUGHUO\ LQGHSHQGHQFH DV Michelle Dowd has shown, is managed through upwardly mobile marriage.  Korda addresses how the “networks of commerce” through which many women sustained themselves with a combination of regulated and unregulated work were intertwined with the early modern stage. See “Women’s Theatrical Properties,” in Staged 3URSHUWLHVLQ(DUO\0RGHUQ(QJOLVK'UDPDHGV -RQDWKDQ*LO+DUULVDQG1DWDVKD.RUGD &DPEULGJH&DPEULGJH8QLYHUVLW\3UHVV ±DQG³/DERUV/RVW´  +RZDUG PDNHV WKH SRLQW WKDW ³ZKRUH´ FLW\ FRPHGLHV GHSLFW ÀXLG FRQYHUVLRQV EHWZHHQSURVWLWXWHVDQGUHVSHFWDEOHZLYHV³6H[DQGWKH(DUO\0RGHUQ&LW\´ -RQVRQ teases at, but does not carry through with, a conversion narrative of this sort in 7KH$OFKHPLVW, not only by stressing the similarities between Dol and elite women, but also through Face DQG6XEWOH¶VSORWWRSURVWLWXWHWKHZLGRZ'DPH3OLDQWZKHQWKH\¿QGWKHPVHOYHVZLWKRQH too many clients on their hands.  Dowd argues that female servants in the period increasingly cultivated “marketable VNLOOV DQG SUR¿FLHQFLHV LQ D FRPPHUFLDO ODERU HFRQRP\´ SUDFWLFHV WKDW ZHUH DW RQFH associated with the prospect of advancement and the threat of women’s “disorderly independence.” “Labours of Love: Women, Marriage and Service in Twelfth Night and The &RPSOHDW6HUYDQW0DLG,” 7KH6KDNHVSHDUHDQ,QWHUQDWLRQDOW@KH WKUHDWHQLQJ ¿JXUH RI the single, pregnant, potentially masterless woman.” Indeed, despite Sir Arthur’s SURGGLQJ :LQLIUHG LV ¿UPO\ UHVROYHG QRW RQO\ WR PDUU\ )UDQN EXW DOVR WR HQG her affair with her master, proclaiming: “I will change my life, / From a loose ZKRUH WR D UHSHQWDQW ZLIH´ ±  %HFDXVH VKH UHIXVHV WR FRPSO\ ZLWK his desires, Winifred is forced to leave Sir Arthur’s service, another event that would mark her as masterless and socially displaced if she hadn’t so fortuitously married Frank. As if to highlight the neat coincidence of her termination as a servant and her fortunate entrée into married life, Winifred marks the occasion by announcing her own parallel moral transformation. In plotting the course from  Amussen, “Punishment, Discipline, and Power: The Social Meanings of Violence in Early Modern England,” Journal of British Studies   $PXVVHQ³3XQLVKPHQW'LVFLSOLQHDQG3RZHU´±)RUWKHVH[XDOYXOQHUDELOLW\ of female servants, see also Garthine Walker, “Rereading Rape and Sexual Violence in Early Modern England,” *HQGHUDQG+LVWRU\ ±0DUMRULH.HQLVWRQ0F,QWRVK ³6HUYDQWV DQG WKH +RXVHKROG 8QLW LQ DQ (OL]DEHWKDQ (QJOLVK &RPPXQLW\´ Journal of )DPLO\+LVWRU\ ±*ULI¿WKV@ $VDVXERUGLQDWHPHPEHURIDKRXVHKROGLQZKLFKVXERUGLQDWHV have rebelled against their master, Susan is positioned in the play as guilty by association. Her own narrative of service and the marriage trajectories in which she is unwittingly inserted are so rigorously controlled that they take shape in the drama almost exclusively through the words of others. However, the silencing of Susan in this tragedy also hints at what is imagined to be the dangerously unpredictable nature of female servants—those “base trulls” who must be carefully PDQDJHGVFULSWHGDQGVFUXWLQL]HGOHVWWKH\LQ$UGHQ¶VZRUGV EHFRPHSDUWRID ³FUHZRIKDUORWVDOOLQORYH´  Rowley and Middleton’s tragedy The Changeling is similarly interested in the potential sexual disorder caused by female servants, but it shares with The :LWFKRI(GPRQWRQ a pattern of deferral and redeployment whereby the story of WKHIHPDOHGRPHVWLFLVPDQLSXODWHGDQGUHGH¿QHGIRUVWUDWHJLFSXUSRVHV+RZHYHU LQWKHRYHUWO\WUDJLFHQGLQJRI5RZOH\DQG0LGGOHWRQ¶VSOD\FRPSDUHGZLWKWKH tragicomic redemption of Winifred) chaos and violence command the stage more viscerally and at greater length. 'LDSKDQWD %HDWULFH¶V ZDLWLQJZRPDQ LQ The Changeling¿JXUHVDVERWKDSDZQLQDODUJHUSORWDQGDVDFKDUDFWHUZKROLNH Susan in $UGHQRI)DYHUVKDP, must be scripted by others in the face of her own silence. Diaphanta’s primary role in the play is to substitute for Beatrice on her ZHGGLQJQLJKWZLWK$OVHPHUR%HDWULFHSD\VWKHYLUJLQ'LDSKDQWDRQHWKRXVDQG GXFDWVWRWDNHRYHUKHU³¿UVWQLJKW¶VSOHDVXUH´LQRUGHUWRKLGHWKHIDFWWKDWVKH KHUVHOILVQRORQJHUDYLUJLQ  Eager to accept Beatrice’s offer, Diaphanta giddily exclaims: “The bride’s place, / And with a thousand ducats! I’m for a MXVWLFHQRZ,EULQJDSRUWLRQZLWKPH,VFRUQVPDOOIRROV´± 7KH 

$UGHQRI)DYHUVKDPHG 0DUWLQ:KLWH/RQGRQ$ &%ODFN $OOFLWDWLRQV will refer to this edition of the play and will be given parenthetically in the text.  For the link between disloyal servants and sexual ambition in the play, see Michael Neill, “‘A woman’s service’: Gender, Subordination, and the Erotics of Rank in the Drama of Shakespeare and his Contemporaries,” 7KH 6KDNHVSHDUHDQ ,QWHUQDWLRQDO LQJ@WKHSOHDVXUHZLWK DJUHHG\DSSHWLWH´ $VIRUPDOVWDJHGHYLFHUXQDPRNWKHEHGWULFNLQWKLV play contorts and parodies the culturally assumed passage of women from service WRPDUULDJHDQGFKDUDFWHUL]HV'LDSKDQWDDVXQUHOLDEOHDQGVH[XDOO\YRUDFLRXV,W also casts doubt on her subservience within the domestic hierarchy, compelling De Flores, Beatrice’s lover and partner in crime, to exclaim in exasperation: ³:KR¶G WUXVW D ZDLWLQJZRPDQ"´   $V WKH FORFN VWULNHV RQH DQG WKHQ two with no sign of Diaphanta, Beatrice joins De Flores in berating her servant, VD\LQJ WKDW ³WKLV ZKRUH IRUJHWV KHUVHOI´   :KLOH WKH SOD\ VXFFHVVIXOO\ paints Diaphanta as a lusty and disobedient servant, a cautionary emblem of the disorder that women’s service can engender in domestic settings, it also offers a fantasy version of that disorder by displacing all blame onto the servant herself and by rerouting her actions to align with marriage—however contrived and unsatisfactory. In Diaphanta’s narrative, as in Sir Arthur’s euphemistic description of his relationship with Winifred, the sexual relationship between a female servant DQGKHUPDVWHULVGH¿QHGLQWHUPVRIODVFLYLRXVDQGGLVRUGHUO\IHPDOHGHVLUHUDWKHU than coercive male prerogative. Furthermore, the play discursively manages even this potentially disruptive sexuality by siphoning it off into a contorted marriage trajectory through the dramatic device of the bed trick. As a substitute and, ultimately, a scapegoat for her mistress, Diaphanta bears a resemblance to Margaret in Shakespeare’s Much Ado About Nothing   At the crucial turning point in that play, Borachio’s wooing of Margaret, Hero’s DWWHQGLQJ JHQWOHZRPDQ ³E\ WKH QDPH RI +HUR´   OHDGV &ODXGLR DQG Don Pedro to denounce Hero publicly as a “rotten orange” who is “but the sign DQG VHPEODQFH RI KHU KRQRU´    2I FRXUVH Much Ado is a comedy DQG WKLV HUURU LV UHFWL¿HG LQ WKH HQG EXW WKH VXEVWLWXWLRQ RI ZDLWLQJZRPDQ IRU mistress nevertheless initiates generic tensions, precipitating the play’s temporary WUDQVLWLRQ LQWR WUDJHG\ HSLWRPL]HG E\ +HUR¶V SUHVXPHG GHDWK 7KRXJK LW LV QRW UHFRJQL]HG DV VXFK XQWLO WKH SOD\¶V FRQFOXVLRQ WKH SUHVXPHG VH[XDO OD[LW\ RI D female servant once again heralds domestic chaos and tragedy. Like Diaphanta, 0DUJDUHW¶VLQGHFRURXVEHKDYLRUDW³KHUPLVWUHVV¶VFKDPEHUZLQGRZ´±  threatens to taint her mistress’s honor. Yet the resolution of this misunderstanding DW WKH FRQFOXVLRQ RI 6KDNHVSHDUH¶V FRPHG\ ZRUNV GRXEO\ WR VDQLWL]H +HUR¶V own reputation, both by clearing her name outright and by rhetorically shifting suspicion onto the schemers Don John and Borachio, as well as onto Margaret herself. As Leonato tells the gathered company, although Claudio and Don Pedro are innocent, “Margaret was in some fault for this, / Although against her will, as LWDSSHDUV,QWKHWUXHFRXUVHRIDOOWKHTXHVWLRQ´± 7UDJHG\LVDYHUWHGEXW only by displacing Hero’s blame onto Margaret, who is both granted agency as a NLQGRIFRQVSLUDWRUVKHZDV³LQVRPHIDXOW´ DQGVLPXOWDQHRXVO\GHQLHGLWWKHDFW

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ZDV³DJDLQVWKHUZLOO´ /LNH:LQLIUHGDQGWKHVKHSKHUG¶VZDLWLQJJHQWOHZRPDQ Margaret is granted a central role in Much Ado’s narrative arc that is directly related to her assumed lasciviousness, but the potentially tragic consequences of her indiscretions are subsumed by the play’s romantic resolution. This resolution, KRZHYHU VWLOO UHTXLUHV D VSHFL¿F YHUVLRQ RI 0DUJDUHW¶V VWRU\ LQ RUGHU WR EH successful. Conveniently at fault “against her will,” Margaret escapes the more extreme penalties imposed on characters such as Don John, yet remains vaguely guilty of sexual improprieties—enough so, at least, to reassure the audience of Hero’s innocence by comparison. As is the case with Margaret in Much Ado, Diaphanta’s sexual escapades have a VLJQL¿FDQWDIWHUOLIHRIWKHLURZQ8OWLPDWHO\'LDSKDQWDPXVWEHNLOOHGEHFDXVHRIKHU FRPSOLFLW\LQ%HDWULFHDQG'H)ORUHV¶VVFKHPLQJ'H)ORUHVVHWV¿UHWR'LDSKDQWD¶V chambers to lure her out of Alsemero’s bed, then meets her in her chambers and shoots her. Yet Diaphanta’s death is not the end of her narrative, as it is for Susan in Arden. When questioned by her father, Vermandero, about Diaphanta’s “accident,” Beatrice concocts an entirely new narrative about her service: 9HUPDQGHUR +RZVKRXOGWKH¿UHFRPHWKHUH>WR'LDSKDQWD¶VFKDPEHU@" Beatrice:

As good a soul as ever lady countenanced, But in her chamber negligent and heavy: She ‘scaped a ruin twice.

9HUPDQGHUR 7ZLFH" Beatrice:

Strangely, twice, sir.

Vermandero: Those sleepy sluts are dangerous in a house,   $QGWKH\EHQH¶HUVRJRRG±

Beatrice and Vermandero rewrite Diaphanta’s death as deserving, or at least as inevitable, by inserting her into the position of the bad, “negligent” servant. By calling her a “sleepy slut”—a phrase that, for contemporary audiences, conjured a range of problematic meanings, including a dirty, slovenly or untidy woman, a troublesome or awkward creature, a drudge, a foul slattern, or a woman of low or loose character—Vermandero implies that not only her sexual behavior but also her lack of diligence in her household tasks is to blame for her death. Vermandero’s LQVXOWWKXVVLPXOWDQHRXVO\HPSKDVL]HV'LDSKDQWD¶VORZHUFODVVVWDWXVKHUIDLOXUH in her household duties, and her sexual improprieties. Beatrice goes even further WKDQLQVXOWLQJ'LDSKDQWDDIWHUKHUGHDWKE\LQYHQWLQJWZRSULRULQFLGHQWVLQZKLFK Diaphanta narrowly “’scaped a ruin,” Beatrice establishes a narrative pattern of slothful service after the fact.  OED, “slut, n´DQG-XGLWK+DEHUDUJXHVWKDW'LDSKDQWD¶VODFNRIVH[XDOIHDUV ³XQGHUVFRUHVKHUORZHUVWDWXV´LQ³µ,W FRXOGQRWFKRRVHEXWIROORZ¶(URWLF/RJLFLQThe Changeling,” 5HSUHVHQWDWLRQV 



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The narrative that Beatrice and Vermandero conveniently provide for Diaphanta GH¿QHVKHULQWHUPVRIOD]LQHVVVH[XDOLQGHFRUXPDQGGRPHVWLFGLVRUGHUFUHDWLQJ a picture of service that, not surprisingly, runs directly counter to advice given to IHPDOHVHUYDQWVE\VHYHQWHHQWKFHQWXU\FRQGXFWERRNZULWHUV+DQQDK:RROOH\ for example, who wrote several books on domesticity later in the century, includes DJUHDWGHDORIVSHFL¿FDGYLFHIRUIHPDOHVHUYDQWVLQKHUPDQXDO7KH&RPSOHDW Servant-Maid :RROOH\ZDUQVKHUUHDGHUVWR³HQFOLQHQRWWRVORWKRUOD]H in bed” and to “be neat, cleanly, and huswifely in your clothes,” and later in the treatise she forbids “wantoning in the society of men,” advice that Diaphanta, the “sleepy slut,” clearly ignores—at least, according to Beatrice. In terms of dramatic effect, Woolley’s practical advice pales in comparison to Beatrice’s racy story and that, of course, is precisely the point. Displacing both the mundane economic details common to treatises like Woolley’s and the historical risk of sexual coercion and abuse, Rowley and Middleton offer up the female servant as both delicious entertainment and crucial mechanism of the tragic plot. Both in the bed trick and after her death, Diaphanta’s narrative is provided to the audience through the mediated language of those characters who need her to function as the “sleepy slut” or negligent servant in order for their own dramatic plots to succeed. The Changeling represents Diaphanta’s story of service as a malleable commodity that can be manipulated to provide closure and an appropriately cautionary PHVVDJHDERXWVH[XDOGLVRUGHU7KHDUWL¿FLDOQDWXUHRI'LDSKDQWD¶VSRVWKXPRXV narrative, however, signals the degree to which this sense of closure is contrived, tentative, and ultimately illusory. The fanciful and nearly excessive scripting of Diaphanta’s service—similar to what we saw with Winifred in The Witch of (GPRQWRQ and Susan in $UGHQ RI )DYHUVKDP—attempts to provide a feeling of FHUWDLQW\DQG¿QDOLW\EXWFDQQRWFRPSOHWHO\HUDVHWKHWKUHDWWRKRXVHKROGRUGHU posed by Diaphanta, the “sleepy” and “dangerous” slut. The dangers implicit in the work of domestic service are writ large in tragedies such as The Changeling and 7KH :LWFK RI (GPRQWRQ DV WKHVH SOD\V EH¿WWLQJ their genre, place sustained attention on the potentially disastrous consequences of female service in the patriarchal household. At a time when the institution of VHUYLFHZDVJUDGXDOO\EHLQJUHGH¿QHGLQWHUPVRIWHPSRUDU\ZDJHEDVHGFRQWUDFWV rather than sustained social relationships, these narratives serve a cautionary function, warning audiences about the uncertainties and instabilities that these female workers potentially bring into English homes. What is more surprising and ultimately more interesting about these plays, however, is the way in which URPDQWLFL]HGSORWVWUXFWXUHVPDQDJHDWWLPHVWRSHUPHDWHWKHWUDJLFPRGH:LQLIUHG as sexual partner and later grieving widow and Diaphanta as “sleepy slut” are GUDPDWLFIDQWDVLHVWKDWGHSHQGRQWKHGHÀHFWLRQRIWKHIDUPRUHFRPPRQKLVWRULFDO narratives of economic hardship and, most notably, sexual subordination and abuse. 7KHUH LV WKHUHIRUH D FXOWXUDO XVHYDOXH WR WKHVH ¿FWLRQV WKDW JRHV EH\RQG WKHLU  Woolley, 7KH &RPSOHDW 6HUYDQW0DLG 2U 7KH V@´EHKLQG,QGRLQJVRKRZHYHUWKHVHSOD\VWXUQVH[XDOYXOQHUDELOLW\LWVHOI LQWR D ¿FWLRQDO QDUUDWLYH UHSODFLQJ WKH UHDO GDQJHU RI FRHUFLRQ WKDW REWDLQHG LQ PDVWHUVHUYDQW UHODWLRQVKLSV ZLWK D GLVFXUVLYH IDQWDV\ RI IHPDOH GHVLUH ,Q WKLV VFHQDULR¿FWLRQDOQDUUDWLYHGRHVWKHZRUNRIGLVWDQFLQJPHVV\VRFLDOUHDOLWLHVE\ rendering them salacious entertainment and therefore of limited social threat. As a result, it becomes far too easy to align ourselves with the shepherd in 7KH:LQWHU¶V TaleDQG³UHDGZDLWLQJJHQWOHZRPDQLQWKHVFDSH´

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Domestic Work in Progress Entertainments Sara Mueller

In a genre noted for its allegorical, mythological, and even typological presentation of the English aristocracy and its country estates, it comes as something of a VXUSULVHWKDWWZRSURJUHVVHQWHUWDLQPHQWVSHUIRUPHGIRU4XHHQ(OL]DEHWKVWDJHG the mundane domestic work of the queen’s aristocratic female hosts. Yet Lady (OL]DEHWK 5XVVHOO¶V  HQWHUWDLQPHQW DW %LVKDP IHDWXUHG KHU RZQ GDXJKWHUV GRLQJ QHHGOHZRUN DQG WKH HQWHUWDLQPHQW VWDJHG DW +DUH¿HOG LQ  E\ 6LU Thomas Egerton and Lady Alice Egerton, Dowager Countess of Derby, explicitly represented Lady Egerton as a demanding, hardworking, and exemplary housewife. Although parts of both entertainments are deeply conventional examples of the progress genre, their focus on the proper, orderly, daily execution of women’s unpaid work is a decidedly novel method of communicating the wealth and noble status of the hosting family, the central aim of any progress entertainment. Admittedly, progress entertainments do routinely boast of the hard work involved in hosting the queen, such as the lengthy list of the Earl of Hertford’s renovations WRKLVHVWDWHLQWKHSULQWHGDFFRXQWRI(OL]DEHWK¶VYLVLWWR(OYHWKDPSXEOLVKHGLQ $Y±$Y  Progress entertainments also regularly include spectacles which required a tremendous amount of labor to execute. Sir Francis Carew, for instance, XQYHLOHGDFKHUU\WUHHDWOHDVWDPRQWKRXWRIVHDVRQIRU(OL]DEHWKDW%HGGLQJWRQ  I would like to thank The Huntington Library, Wilfrid Laurier University, Queen’s University, and the Social Science and Humanities Council of Canada for supporting my work on this project.  Studies of the role of progress entertainments in performing court power and QREOHVWDWXVLQFOXGH-D\QH(OLVDEHWK$UFKHU(OL]DEHWK*ROGULQJDQG6DUDK.QLJKWHGV  7KH 3URJUHVVHV 3DJHDQWV DQG (QWHUWDLQPHQWV RI 4XHHQ (OL]DEHWK , 2[IRUG 2[IRUG 8QLYHUVLW\ 3UHVV   0DU\ +LOO &ROH 7KH 3RUWDEOH 4XHHQ (OL]DEHWK , DQG WKH 3ROLWLFVRI&HUHPRQ\$PKHUVW8QLYHUVLW\RI0DVVDFKXVHWWV3UHVV :LOOLDP/HDK\ (OL]DEHWKDQ 7ULXPSKDO 3URFHVVLRQV $OGHUVKRW $VKJDWH   'DYLG 6FRWW .DVWDQ “‘Shewes of Honour and Gladnes’: Dissonance and Display in Mary and Philip’s Entry into London,” 5HVHDUFK2SSRUWXQLWLHVLQ5HQDLVVDQFH'UDPD ±DQG-DPHV Sutton, 0DWHULDOL]LQJ6SDFHDWDQ(DUO\0RGHUQ3URGLJ\+RXVH7KH&HFLOVDW7KHREDOGV ±$OGHUVKRW$VKJDWH   Hertford’s renovations included enlarging the house, erecting new buildings, FRQVWUXFWLQJDQHZKDOODQGGLJJLQJDODUJHFUHVFHQWVKDSHGSRQGLQZKLFKPDQ\VKLSVDQG ERDWVZHUHSODFHG$±$Y 

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LQ4 While the conceit suggests that the queen’s mere presence was enough to trump nature and bring back spring, it surely would have been obvious that this feat was much more likely to have been achieved by Carew’s labor as well as that of his workers.7KH%LVKDPDQG+DUH¿HOGHQWHUWDLQPHQWVDUHH[FHSWLRQDOLQWKHLU GUDPDWL]DWLRQRIWKHSURFHVV²DQGQRWMXVWWKHUHVXOW²RIZRPHQ¶VODERU,WLVP\ FRQWHQWLRQWKDWMXVWDVWKHWUDQVLWLRQIURPDIHXGDOWRDPHUFDQWLOLVWSURWRFDSLWDOLVW economy and the opportunities for new kinds of work outside of traditional guilds prompted some commercial playwrights to examine this new economy and its ZRUNHUVVRWRRZHUHWKHVHFKDQJHVLQÀXHQWLDO²DOEHLWLQDYHU\GLIIHUHQWZD\²WR %LVKDPDQG+DUH¿HOG¶VSHUIRUPDQFHVRIQRELOLW\DQGFODVVOHJLWLPDF\ Both the Russell and Egerton entertainments depict their estates as fertile, UXVWLFZHOOPDQDJHGIDUPVWKDWDUHPRGHOVRIGRPHVWLFYLUWXH&HQWUDOWRWKHVH UHSUHVHQWDWLRQV RI LGHDOL]HG QREOH KXVEDQGU\ DUH WKH SHUIRUPDQFHV RI GRPHVWLF work by aristocratic women whose dedicated labor demonstrates synecdochically the commitment of the host to the proper governance and care over the estate as a ZKROH7KLVLGHDOL]HGUHSUHVHQWDWLRQRIWKHDULVWRFUDWLFFRXQWU\KRXVHLVLQODUJH part, a conservative reaction to the changes in aristocratic life brought about by new economic and social conditions at the end of the sixteenth century and the beginning of the seventeenth century. New urban and commercial opportunities meant that aristocratic men made less of their incomes from rents from their tenant farmers and spent more of their time away from their country houses pursuing potentially more lucrative sources of income. Aristocratic women assumed the PDQDJHULDOUROHVDEDQGRQHGE\WKHLUKXVEDQGVDQGWRRNRQWKHFRPSOLFDWHGGD\WR 4

Jean Wilson, (QWHUWDLQPHQWVIRU(OL]DEHWK,:RRGEULGJHDQG7RWDZD'6%UHZHU    Hugh Plat’s account of how Carew accomplished this feat dwells on Carew’s labor: ³7KLVVHFUHWKH>&DUHZ@SHUIRUPHGE\VWUDLQLQJD7HQWRUFRYHURIFDQYDVRYHUWKHZKROH tree, and wetting the same now and then with scoope, or horne, as the heat of the weather UHTXLUHG DQG VR E\ ZLWKKROGLQJ WKH VXQEHDPHV IURP UHÀHFWLQJ XSRQ WKH EHUULHV WKH\ grew both great, and were very long before they had gotten their perfect cherry colour: and when he was assured of her Majesties coming, he removed the Tent, and a few sunny days brought them to their full maturity.” The Garden of Eden/RQGRQ ±  Kari Boyd McBride, &RXQWU\ +RXVH 'LVFRXUVH LQ (DUO\ 0RGHUQ (QJODQG $ &XOWXUDO6WXG\RI/DQGVFDSHDQG/HJLWLPDF\$OGHUVKRW$VKJDWH ±0RUHRYHU Felicity Heal and Clive Holmes argue that many members of the gentry who needed to work to supplement traditional agricultural incomes “became involved directly or indirectly LQWUDGHRU¿QDQFH´7KH\GLGVR+HDODQG+ROPHVDUJXH³QRW«DVDQH[RJHQRXVDFWLYLW\ but in an endeavour to exploit the nonagricultural potential of their estates—sinking mines, investing in facilities to process or transport their product, encouraging urban growth in the vicinity of their lands. There are few examples of gentlemen whose involvement in industry or trade was not related intimately to the development of the potential of their estates.” 7KH*HQWU\LQ(QJODQGDQG:DOHV±6WDQIRUG6WDQIRUG8QLYHUVLW\3UHVV  (YHQLIWKHPRWLYDWLRQIRUSDUWLFLSDWLQJLQFRPPHUFLDOYHQWXUHVZDVWRHQULFKRQH¶V country estate, such ventures still compromised the ideal of the gentleman as patriarch whose wealth came from the management of his tenant farmers.

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day administration of country estates. These changes in aristocratic life fostered a ZLGHVSUHDGUHSUHVHQWDWLRQDOFULVLVVLQFHQREOHVHOISUHVHQWDWLRQGDWLQJEDFNWRWKH Tudors was founded upon patriarchal possession, presence, and governance of their estates.7XGRULGHRORJ\KHOGWKDWRQDQREOHFRXQWU\HVWDWH³HYHU\LQGLYLGXDO>KDG@ DQLPPXWDEOHVRFLDODQGJHRJUDSKLFSODFHDQG>ZDV@¿[H>G@«ZLWKLQDQHWZRUN of duties and responsibilities.” Since the physical presence and governorship of the patriarch had become less of a condition of country life, and since his ties to WKHODQGZHUHQRORQJHUVHOIHYLGHQWLWEHFDPHQHFHVVDU\WRSHUIRUPWKHVHLGHDOV of nobility even though the social conditions behind the ideals were no longer a reality. Indeed, according to Kari Boyd McBride in &RXQWU\ +RXVH 'LVFRXUVH, ³HDUO\PRGHUQ(QJODQGLQYHQWHG«WKHODWHPHGLHYDOFRXQWU\HVWDWHDVWKHV\PERO of good housekeeping.” With the diminished presence of noblemen on the country estate, women began to play a greater role in performing noble ideology, just as they assumed a greater UROHLQHVWDWHPDQDJHPHQW%LVKDPDQG+DUH¿HOG¶VQRYHOUHSUHVHQWDWLRQDOVWUDWHJ\ of focusing on women’s work is, then, a canny response to changing social and economic conditions. In terms of the performance of noble ideology, aristocratic women were increasingly associated with their country estates to the extent that ³WKH¿FWLRQRIWLPHOHVVYDOXHVRIDFKLYDOULFFXOWXUHWKDWGH¿QHGQREOHVWDWXV´ZDV accomplished by the enclosure of women in the country house. 7KH LGHDOL]HG aristocratic household depended on the performance of conservative gender politics because, as McBride writes, nobility and legitimacy were understood to be fundamentally and ontologically male. That is, the exercise of power depended on a distinction between masculinity and femininity or, more accurately perhaps, on the control of everything associated with the feminine by those who claimed the fullness RI PDVFXOLQH SULYLOHJH « >$@V FRXQWU\ KRXVH SRHPV FRQGXFW OLWHUDWXUH DQG private writings demonstrate again and again, the virtuous wife is central to WKHLGHDOHVWDWHKHUYLUWXHERWKGHSHQGHQWRQDQGVLJQL¿FDQWRIKHUKXVEDQG¶V particularly noble virility.  Felicity Heal writes that there was so much anxiety about the departure of elites IURP WKH FRXQWU\ WKDW SURFODPDWLRQV ZHUH LVVXHG ³IURP WKH V WR WKH ODWHU V « >ZKLFK@IRUEDGHWKHJHQWU\WROLYHLQRUDERXWWKHFLW\RXWVLGHWKHODZWHUPVDQGVSHFL¿FDOO\ required them to return to their country houses for the Christmas period.” +RVSLWDOLW\LQ Early Modern England2[IRUG&ODUHQGRQ   Andrew McRae, “Husbandry Manuals and the Language of Agrarian Improvement,” in Culture and Cultivation in Early Modern England: Writing the Land HGV  0LFKDHO Leslie DQG7LPRWK\5D\ORU/HLFHVWHUDQG/RQGRQ/HLFHVWHU8QLYHUVLW\3UHVV   McBride, &RXQWU\+RXVH'LVFRXUVH, 0F%ULGH¶VERRNIRFXVHVRQFRXQWU\KRXVH poems, miniatures, and portraits, all of which she describes as “pocketbook icons of the signifying landscape that served to legitimate authority apart from the land itself, which ZDVQRQHWKHOHVVHIIHFWLYHO\SUHVHQWLQLWVUHSUHVHQWDWLRQV´ 7KHSURJUHVVHQWHUWDLQPHQW GRHVQRW¿JXUHLQWR0F%ULGH¶VDQDO\VLV  ,ELG±  ,ELG

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$OWKRXJK 0F%ULGH IRFXVHV RQ KRZ ZRPHQ H[HPSOL¿HG WKH YDOXHV RI WKH FRXQWU\ KRXVH E\ WKHLU SDVVLYH HQFORVXUH LQ LW %LVKDP DQG +DUH¿HOG HPSOR\ D GLIIHUHQWVWUDWHJ\²GUDPDWL]LQJZRPHQ¶VODERU²WRGHPRQVWUDWHWKHKRXVHKROG¶V HPERGLPHQWRILGHDOL]HGQRELOLW\0RUHRYHUDOWKRXJKERWKHQWHUWDLQPHQWVGH¿QH the country estate as a place of unchanging noble values and patriarchal presence and control, the entertainments by their very focus on women’s domestic labor— and not men’s—resist an uncomplicated endorsement of nostalgic noble ideals. Instead, the entertainments acknowledge in their focus on women’s active labor the new realities of country life in the changing economy. Alongside Bisham and +DUH¿HOG¶V QHFHVVDU\ DVVHUWLRQ RI WUDGLWLRQDO SDWULDUFKDO DQG QREOH OHJLWLPDF\ both entertainments foreground a very timely recognition of women’s importance and changing roles on country estates, a recognition that acknowledges the material and symbolic contributions of women to their estates. While Bisham and +DUH¿HOG DUH ODUJHO\ UHDFWLRQDU\ DULVWRFUDWLF FXOWXUDO SURGXFWLRQV WKDW VKUHZGO\ VWURYHWRSHUIRUPIDPLOLDOVWDWXVE\LPDJLQLQJDQLGHDOL]HGQREOHUHDOLW\WKDWQR longer existed, both entertainments also invoke the very social and economic changes they appear to deny. They assert the presence of nostalgic ideals on their land, but the entertainments articulate with their focus on female labor that these LGHDOVDUHQRWKLQJEXW¿FWLRQDQGLQVWHDGLQWLPDWHWKDWWKHQHZUHDOLWLHVRIOLIHRQ country estates presented powerful and even potentially radical possibilities for early modern women. The performance of domestic work in progress entertainments had the potential then to promote both familial status and personal power. It was essential, though, WKDW %LVKDP DQG +DUH¿HOG¶V GHSLFWLRQ RI IHPDOH ODERU VXFFHVVIXOO\ QHJRWLDWH DULVWRFUDWLF SUHMXGLFHV DJDLQVW ODERU VLQFH SDUW RI ZKDW GH¿QHG QRELOLW\ LQ WKH early modern period was living a life of leisure free from work. Certain kinds of unpaid labor—including household management, husbandry, and chaste pursuits like needlework—were forms of work appropriate for those of high rank, and WKHVHZHUHMXVWWKHNLQGVRIDULVWRFUDWLFZRUNGHSLFWHGDW%LVKDPDQG+DUH¿HOG According to Andrew McRae, however, even these kinds of work had to overcome base associations. In husbandry manuals, the subject of McRae’s study, the work of husbandry was transmuted into an occupation suitable for the gentle classes “by commuting physical labor into the daily rounds of supervision. In this VHQVH WKH ODQGORUG FDQ FODLP KLPVHOI D µKXVEDQGPDQ¶ LQ D VOLJKWO\ SDVWRUDOL]HG WUDQVIRUPDWLRQ RI 9LUJLO¶V ¿JXUH IURP WKH Georgics.” %LVKDP DQG +DUH¿HOG employ representational strategies similar to those of the husbandry manuals. Both HQWHUWDLQPHQWVXVHHOHPHQWVRIWKHJHRUJLFHPSKDVL]LQJWKHODQGDVDFXOWLYDWHG farm, focusing on its proper management, and celebrating dutiful labor on the estate. The entertainments also incorporate pastoral elements more familiar in



0F5DH³+XVEDQGU\0DQXDOV´ The garden was a far more common way of describing the cultivated, controlled environment in progress entertainments. See Jayne Elisabeth Archer and Sarah Knight, (OL]DEHWKD 7ULXPSKDQV, in 7KH 3URJUHVVHV 3DJHDQWV DQG (QWHUWDLQPHQWV RI 4XHHQ Elizabeth IHGV $UFKHU*ROGULQJDQG.QLJKW 

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progress entertainments, including Russell’s daughters’ roles as shepherdesses and the investment of both entertainments in rusticity and elevated language. 7KH SHUIRUPDQFHV RI ZRPHQ¶V ODERU DW +DUH¿HOG DQG %LVKDP DGPLW QR EDVH associations, instead encoding the Russell and Egerton households as on the one KDQGYLUWXRXVZHOOJRYHUQHGDQGQREOHZKLOHRQWKHRWKHUKDQGPDNLQJFOHDU just how valuable and authoritative women’s work was in their country houses. In addition to the necessity for nobles in general to perform a nostalgic conception of their identity, the Russell and Egerton households both had particular reasons for asserting their noble legitimacy. Neither the Russell nor the Egerton KRXVHKROGFDPHFORVHWRHPERG\LQJWKHIHXGDOLGHDOVWKDWZHUHYDORUL]HGLQWKH period, and the conservative identities performed by the women of the Russell and Egerton households were not accurate representations of their lives. Both Russell and Egerton led remarkable, privileged lives that were far from ordinary. 5XVVHOOZDVDSDWURQWUDQVODWRUDQGRQHRIWKHIDPRXVO\ZHOOHGXFDWHGGDXJKWHUV of Sir Antony Cooke. Egerton was a noted patron of Spenser, Milton, and RWKHUVVKHZRXOGODWHUSHUIRUPLQDWOHDVWWZR-DFREHDQFRXUWPDVTXHVDQGVKH was a central part of the Northern court of the Stanley family before her second marriage to Egerton. Accordingly, performances of conservative noble ideology OLNH %LVKDP DQG +DUH¿HOG¶V ZHUH HVSHFLDOO\ LPSRUWDQW JLYHQ WKH LQFRQJUXLW\ RI these families to the noble ideal and of these women to conservative domestic ideals. Moreover, the genre of the progress entertainment was a particularly potent medium for articulating familial meaning. In addition to staging one’s wealth and status for the queen, for other aristocrats, for local onlookers, and for readers of accounts of the entertainment, progress entertainments featured a conceptual transformation of house and household into a stage upon which the ideals, values, status, and aspirations of the host were performed. For Alison Findlay, women’s performances in the household always manifest this kind of “spatial practice” where lived reality and imagined reality collide, and where the performance is at once a representational space and a representation of space, in Henri Lefebvre’s terms. 

For more on Russell, see Mary Ellen Lamb, “The Cooke Sisters: Attitudes Toward Learned Women in the Renaissance,” in 6LOHQW%XWIRUWKH:RUG7XGRU:RPHQDV3DWURQV 7UDQVODWRUVDQG:ULWHUVRI5HOLJLRXV:RUNVHG 0DUJDUHW3DWWHUVRQ+DQQD\.HQW.HQW 6WDWH8QLYHUVLW\3UHVV ±  For details about Egerton, see French R. Fogle, “‘Such a Rural Queen’: The Countess Dowager of Derby as Patron,” in 3DWURQDJHLQ/DWH5HQDLVVDQFH(QJODQG3DSHUV5HDG DW&ODUN/LEUDU\6HPLQDU0D\/RV$QJHOHV:LOOLDP&ODUN0HPRULDO/LEUDU\  ±  See Helen Cooper, “Location and Meaning in Masque, Morality, and Royal Entertainment,” in The Court Masque HG  'DYLG /LQGOH\ 0DQFKHVWHU 0DQFKHVWHU 8QLYHUVLW\ 3UHVV    DQG 0LFKDHO /HVOLH ³µ6RPHWKLQJ QDVW\ LQ WKH ZLOGHUQHVV¶ (QWHUWDLQLQJ 4XHHQ (OL]DEHWK RQ KHU 3URJUHVVHV´ 0HGLHYDO DQG 5HQDLVVDQFH 'UDPD LQ England    Alison Findlay, 3OD\LQJ6SDFHVLQ(DUO\:RPHQ¶V'UDPD&DPEULGJH&DPEULGJH 8QLYHUVLW\ 3UHVV   ±  +HQUL /HIHEYUH GH¿QHV UHSUHVHQWDWLRQV RI VSDFH DV WKH ³GRPLQDQWVSDFHLQDQ\VRFLHW\´ ZKHUHDVUHSUHVHQWDWLRQDOVSDFHVDUHLQVWHDGVSDFHVWKDW are “directly livedWKURXJK>WKHLU@DVVRFLDWHGLPDJHVDQGV\PEROV´ 5HSUHVHQWDWLRQVRI



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At the same time, however, the performances of domesticity by these women move EH\RQG D VLPSOH UHLPDJLQLQJ RU UHFRQFHSWXDOL]DWLRQ RI GRPHVWLF VSDFH 7KH women’s performances of feminine domesticity in the explicitly theatrical context of the progress entertainment obscure the line between performance and reality to assert a particular understanding of their familial—and even personal—meaning. In such an important state context, and in a genre with incredible potential to shape familial reputation and social status, women’s performances of labor at Bisham DQG+DUH¿HOGGLGQRWKLQJOHVVWKDQDFFRPSOLVKWKHPRVWLPSRUWDQWFXOWXUDOZRUN required of the aristocracy in this time of economic and social change. While the progress entertainment was a powerful venue to assert familial propaganda, it is essential that both entertainments prevent their audiences from easily accepting WKH ¿FWLRQ RI WKDW IDPLOLDO SURSDJDQGD ,QVWHDG WKH SHUIRUPDQFH FRQWH[W RI WKH %LVKDPDQG+DUH¿HOGHQWHUWDLQPHQWVZRUNVWRVXJJHVWWKDWQRWRQO\DUHWKHIDPLOLHV OHJLWLPDWHO\QREOHEXWVRWRRLVWKHDXWKRULW\RI(OL]DEHWK¶VDULVWRFUDWLFIHPDOHKRVWV 7KLVDVSHFWRIWKHSHUIRUPDQFHVDW%LVKDPDQG+DUH¿HOGVXJJHVWVWKDWDORQJVLGHWKH conservative aim of these performances lies a radical acknowledgement of social FKDQJHDVZHOODVDYDOLGDWLRQRIWKHGLIIHUHQWVRFLDOFRQ¿JXUDWLRQVPDGHSRVVLEOH by economic change. Women’s performances of domestic work thus signify doubly in progress entertainments. While the performances’ manifest object was to declare the legitimacy of the host family, the subtext strove to legitimate, value, and give credit to the power of women’s labor on the country estate. Bisham, 1592 5HPDLQLQJ UHFRUGV RI 4XHHQ (OL]DEHWK¶V YLVLW WR %LVKDP LQGLFDWH WKDW VKH ZDV JUHHWHG ZLWK DQ HQWHUWDLQPHQW ZULWWHQ E\ /DG\ (OL]DEHWK 5XVVHOO KHUVHOI DQG SHUIRUPHG LQ SDUW E\ 5XVVHOO¶V RZQ GDXJKWHUV$QQH DQG (OL]DEHWK Most of space are linked to order, power, and the relations of production, but representational spaces are “linked to the clandestine of underground side of social life, as also to art.” The Production RI6SDFHWUDQV'RQDOG1LFKROVRQ6PLWK2[IRUG%ODFNZHOO /HIHEYUHH[SODLQV how a single space can hold radical and conservative connotations at once.  $OH[DQGUD -RKQVWRQ ¿UVW HVWDEOLVKHG 5XVVHOO¶V OLNHO\ DXWKRUVKLS ³7KH µ/DG\ RI WKHIDUPH¶7KH&RQWH[WRI/DG\5XVVHOO¶V(QWHUWDLQPHQWRI(OL]DEHWKDW%LVKDP´Early Theatre 7KHHQWHUWDLQPHQWZDVSXEOLVKHGDQRQ\PRXVO\ZLWKWZRRWKHU entertainments given for the queen’s progress that summer. Johnston’s argument about Russell’s authorship has been accepted by Alison Findlay, 3OD\LQJ6SDFHV±&ODLUH McManus, :RPHQRQWKH5HQDLVVDQFH6WDJH$QQDRI'HQPDUNDQG)HPDOH0DVTXLQJLQ WKH 6WXDUW &RXUW  0DQFKHVWHU 0DQFKHVWHU 8QLYHUVLW\ 3UHVV    DQG 3HWHU 'RQDOGVRQ DQG -DQH 6WHYHQVRQ ³(OL]DEHWK ,¶V 5HFHSWLRQ DW %LVKDP   (OLWH Women as Writers and Devisers,” in 7KH 3URJUHVVHV 3DJHDQWV DQG (QWHUWDLQPHQWV RI 4XHHQ(OL]DEHWK,HGV $UFKHU*ROGULQJDQG.QLJKW±7KHFDVHIRU5XVVHOO¶V daughters being the performers who play “the Virgins keeping Sheepe, and sowing their VDPSOHUV´$LL LVVXSSRUWHGE\3DQ¶VGHVFULSWLRQRIWKHPDVGDXJKWHUVRIWKHRZQHUVRIWKH IDUP³\RXDUHEXWWKH)DUPHUVGDXJKWHUVRIWKH'DOH,WKHJRGRIWKHÀRFNVWKDWIHHGHXSRQ WKHKLOOV´$LL 

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Bisham’s critics understand the objective of Russell’s daughters’ performance WREHDQDWWHPSWWRSURPRWHWKHJLUOVDVSRWHQWLDOODGLHVLQZDLWLQJWRWKHTXHHQ SRVLWLRQV WKH\ HYHQWXDOO\ DWWDLQHG  Russell’s daughters’ performance also presented Bisham as a model of Protestantism, feminine virtue, proper governance, and nobility. Such a performance was especially important for Russell because aristocratic anxieties about noble status hit particularly close to home in her case. 5XVVHOOZDVWZLFHZLGRZHGKHUVHFRQGKXVEDQG-RKQ/RUG5XVVHOOGLGQRWOLYH ORQJHQRXJKWRLQKHULWWKHHDUOGRPRI%HGIRUGVKLUHVKHGLGQRWSRVVHVVDYHU\ ODUJHHVWDWHLQ%LVKDPDQGKHUDLPVIRUKHUGDXJKWHUV³GHPDQGHGJUHDWUHYHQXHV´ and even greater social status. For a woman of limited means, but with limitless ambition for her daughters, performing the ideals of nobility was very important for Russell. At the same time, the pride Russell takes in her dominion over her estate is evident throughout the entertainment, not in the least when at the end of WKHHQWHUWDLQPHQWWKHJRGGHVV&HUHVVSHDNVIRU5XVVHOODQGZHOFRPHV(OL]DEHWKWR KHUKRPH$LLLMY $OWKRXJKVKHPXVWSHUIRUPFRQYHQWLRQDOFRQVHUYDWLYHQRWLRQV of nobility, Russell’s entertainment also registers just how different her realm is from that ideal. As an aristocratic widow living in her own home, Russell enjoyed an unusual position in her household and had far more freedom than would have been afforded most married or never married women. Despite, and perhaps because of her widowhood and exceptional status, Russell’s entertainment is in many ways very conventional in its promotion of the nobility and legitimacy of her family through feminine virtue. The entertainment staged at Bisham consisted of three scenes that took place on the queen’s approach to the house: a “Wilde” man greeted the queen WKHIXUWKHVWGLVWDQFHIURPWKHKRXVH5XVVHOO¶VGDXJKWHUVSHUIRUPHGWKHLUGLDORJXH DWWKHKDOIZD\SRLQWRQWKHTXHHQ¶VDSSURDFKDQGDWWKHHQWU\WRWKHKRXVH&HUHV delivered the personal message from Russell, presented a crown of wheat to the TXHHQDQGFHGHGWR4XHHQ(OL]DEHWKKHUDXWKRULW\RYHUWKHHVWDWH7KHIRUPRI entertainment coincides with the conventions of the genre and the entertainment promotes, as it must, traditional ideals of nobility, but Bisham does not let its

 6HH HVSHFLDOO\ -RKQVWRQ ³7KH µ/DG\ RI WKH )DUPH¶´  DQG )LQGOD\ Playing 6SDFHV  Felicity Heal, “Reputation and Honour in Court and Society,” in Transactions of the 5R\DO+LVWRULFDO6RFLHW\ 5XVVHOO¶VDQ[LHW\RYHUODQGSRVVHVVLRQZRXOGFRPH WRDKHDGLQKHU¿JKWZLWK&KDUOHV+RZDUGRYHU'RQQLQJWRQ&DVWOH7KH&DVWOHKDGEHHQ ZLOOHGWR5XVVHOOEXWZDVJLYHQE\4XHHQ(OL]DEHWKWR+RZDUGLQWRUHZDUGKLPIRU KLVQDYDOVHUYLFH6HH+HDO³5HSXWDWLRQDQG+RQRXU´  Alice Friedman writes that wealthy aristocratic widows “exercised considerable independent authority over their families and households” since they were “no longer subject to either parental authority or their husbands’ control and too old to serve as intergenerational or interfamilial conduits through their offspring.” “Architecture, Authority, and the Female *D]H3ODQQLQJDQG5HSUHVHQWDWLRQLQWKH(DUO\0RGHUQ&RXQWU\+RXVH´$VVHPEODJH  

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audience forget Russell’s own power and the extent to which her reign over her estate undermines the very noble ideology it performs. The scene performed by Russell’s daughters is the most pertinent to my discussion of the performance of aristocratic women’s work in progress entertainments. In the scene, Russell’s daughters perform needlework, and they fend off Pan’s advances by describing their work. The images they sew are so YLUWXRXVDQGFRPSOLPHQWDU\WR(OL]DEHWKWKDWRQFHWKH\GHFLSKHUWKHLUZRUNIRU 3DQ KH EUHDNV KLV SKDOOLF SLSH DQG GHFODUHV KLV DOOHJLDQFH WR WKH TXHHQ $LLLM  &ODLUH0F0DQXV¿QGVWKDWWKH%LVKDPHQWHUWDLQPHQWSUHVHQWVQHHGOHZRUNLQJDV ³DTXDVLOLQJXLVWLFPHGLXPSUHGLFDWHGWKURXJKJHQGHU´VLQFHWKHFRQWHQWRIWKH women’s dialogue is so closely related to the images they sew on their samplers. ,QGHHGRQFRPLQJXSRQWKHJLUOVDWZRUNRQWKHLUVDPSOHUVLQWKH¿HOG3DQDVNV them to explain the meaning of their work to him. The girls respond by deciphering WKHDOOHJRULFDOVLJQL¿FDQFHRIHDFK¿JXUHWKH\KDYHPDGH 3$1«ZKDWLVZURXJKWLQWKLVVDPSOHU" SYB. The follies of the Gods, who became beastes, for their affections. 3$1:KDWLQWKLV" ISA. The honour of Virgins who became Goddesses, for their chastity. 3$1%XWZKDWEHWKHVH" SYB. Mens tongues, wrought all with double stitch but not one true. 3$1:KDWWKHVH" ,6$ 5RVHV (JOHWLQH KDUWVHDVH ZURXJKW ZLWK 4XHHQHV VWLWFK DQG DOOULJKW $LLL

Despite the pastoral nature of this scene, its interest in the girls’ proper execution of their work is more georgic. The girls demonstrate their mastery not only of different kinds of stitches, hence displaying their sound education and hard work at mastering their craft, but they also reveal their mastery of the precepts of IHPLQLQHYLUWXHVLQFHWKHLUZRUNJORUL¿HVFKDVWHYLUJLQVDQGFDVWLJDWHVGRXEOH speaking men and foolish gods. The content of the girls’ speeches would have DSSHDOHG SDUWLFXODUO\ WR (OL]DEHWK ERWK EHFDXVH WKH NLQG RI YLUWXH HYLGHQFHG E\ WKH VSHHFKHV ZDV MXVW ZKDW VKH ORRNHG IRU LQ KHU ODGLHVLQZDLWLQJ EXW DOVR because the powerful model of virginity articulated by the girls so closely echoes (OL]DEHWK¶VUHSUHVHQWDWLRQRIKHURZQYLUJLQLW\ 

McManus, :RPHQRQWKH5HQDLVVDQFH6WDJH The girls also reveal in this passage their education in the classics and the ways in ZKLFKWKDWHGXFDWLRQVKDSHGWKHLUYLUWXHSRVLWLYHO\(OL]DEHWK5XVVHOOZDVIDPRXVO\ZHOO educated, and the value of humanist education to shape the virtue of women is an important and polemical subtext to this exchange between Pan and Russell’s daughters. 

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(PEURLGHU\ZDVDKLJKVWDWXVRFFXSDWLRQEXWWKLVLVQRWWRVD\WKDWLWZDVQRW work, and necessary work, for elite women. According to Marla Miller, it was “skilled work—requiring skills that not every woman possessed—but also … was GLI¿FXOWPLQGQXPELQJH\HVWUDLQLQJEDFNEUHDNLQJODERU´ Early modern usage RIWKHZRUG³ZRUN´LQIDFWRIWHQUHIHUUHGVSHFL¿FDOO\WRZRPHQ¶VQHHGOHZRUN Bisham itself is emphatic that needlework constitutes proper aristocratic work. Pan asks the women, “How doe you burne time, & drowne beauty in pricking of clouts, ZKHQ\RXVKRXOGEHSHQQLQJRI6RQQHWV"'HOSKLD@GDLO\DQGEULQJLQ)HDVWVZKLOHVKHVLWVIDUWLQJDWXVDQGEORZLQJRXW KHU3URSKHFLHVDWERWKHQGV´ +HVDWLUL]HVWKHRWKHUZRUOGO\SKHQRPHQRQ RISURSKHF\E\UHORFDWLQJLWLQWKHERGLO\RQHRIÀDWXOHQFH0D[LPLQLDQ¶VWDFWLFV here are reminiscent of those employed by Samuel Harsnett in the possession controversy at the end of the sixteenth century. As Katharine Maus notes, Harsnett discredits both the possessed and the dispossessor through satire, which “from time immemorial has operated by uncovering a ‘base’—that is, bodily, WKLVZRUOGO\VHOILQWHUHVWHGDQGORFDO²H[SODQDWLRQIRUEHKDYLRUVWKDWSUHWHQGWR be spiritual, transcendent, altruistic, or universal.” Here, Delphia’s prophecies are reduced to the scatological. As the “transcendent” prophecy takes the form RI D VSHFL¿F ERGLO\ IXQFWLRQ 'HOSKLD EHFRPHV DQRWKHU H[DPSOH RI WKH ZRPDQ as a “leaky vessel.” Maximinian further implies that it is Delphia’s excessive consumption of food and wine that reveals her to be a fraud. Twould make a fool prophesie to be fed continually :KDWGR\RXJHW"\RXUODERXUDQG\RXUGDQJHU Whilst she sits bathing in her larded fury, ,QVSLU¶GZLWKIXOOGHHS&XSVZKRFDQQRWSURSKHVLH"

7UXHSURSKHWVGLGQRWHDWRUGULQNWRH[FHVVMXVWWKHRSSRVLWHWKH\IDVWHG 0D[LPLQLDQGRHVQRWVWRSWKHUHKHIXUWKHUGHPRQL]HV'HOSKLDLQWHUPVVWURQJO\ LQÀXHQFHGE\FRQWLQHQWDOGHPRQRORJLFDOWKHRU\DQGHVSRXVHGE\-DPHV, ,ZRXOGKDYH>PDOLFH@ $JDLQVWWKHVHSXUEOLQG3URSKHWVIRUORRN\H6LU 2OGZRPHQOLHPRQVWURXVO\VRZLOOWKH'HYLO 2UHOVHKHKDVKDGPXFKZURQJXSRQP\NQRZOHGJH 2OGZRPHQDUHPDOLFLRXVVRLVKH 7KH\DUHSURXGDQGFRYHWRXVUHYHQJHIXOOHFKHURXV $OOZKLFKDUHH[FHOOHQWDWWULEXWHVRIWKH'HYLO 7KH\ZRXOGDWOHDVWVHHPKRO\VRZRXOGKH $QGWRYDLORYHUWKHVHYLOODLQLHVWKH\ZRXOGSURSKHVLH He gives them leave now and then to use their cunnings, Which is, to kill a Cow, or blast a Harvest, Make young Pigs pipe themselves to death, choak poultry, 

6HH 3KLOLS $OPRQG HG  'HPRQLF 3RVVHVVLRQ DQG ([RUFLVP LQ (DUO\ 0RGHUQ England&DPEULGJH&DPEULGJH8QLYHUVLW\ 3UHVV ):%URZQORZ6KDNHVSHDUH +DUVQHWWDQGWKH'HYLOVRI'HQKDP1HZDUN8QLYHUVLW\RI'HODZDUH3UHVV DQG Stephen Greenblatt, “Shakespeare and the Exorcists,” in 6KDNHVSHDUHDQ 1HJRWLDWLRQV %HUNHOH\DQG/RV$QJHOHV8QLYHUVLW\RI&DOLIRUQLD3UHVV ±  Katharine Eisaman Maus, “Sorcery and Subjectivity in Early Modern Discourses of Witchcraft,” in +LVWRULFLVP 3V\FKRDQDO\VLV DQG (DUO\ 0RGHUQ &XOWXUH HGV  &DUOD 0D]]LRDQG'RXJODV7UHYRU1HZW@KHWLPHµWZL[WVL[DQGQRZ0XVWE\XVERWKEHVSHQWPRVW SUHFLRXVO\´± $ULHO¶VLQLWLDOUHOXFWDQFHLQGLFDWHVWKDWKLVODERULVDOLHQ to him, owned by another, and directed towards Prospero’s purposes rather than his own. Yet the temporary nature of his bondage transforms his attitude towards it, making his “drudgery divine,” as George Herbert put it. Prospero reminds him of the distinction between permanent and temporary servitude, recalling his subjection to the tyranny of the witch Sycorax: “Thou, my slave,/ As thou report’st WK\VHOIZDVWWKHQKHUVHUYDQW´OO± +HUHFDOOVWKDW6\FRUD[FRPPDQGHG Ariel to perform earthy, material labor, but that he refused, being “a spirit too GHOLFDWH´ O  $ULHO DFKLHYHV SUDFWLFDO HIIHFWV E\ PDJLFDO V\PEROLF PHDQV rather than through material labor of the kind performed by Caliban. With this distinction in mind, Ariel is happy to be Prospero’s “industrious servant,” the OLYLQJHPERGLPHQWRIWKHSRZHUH[HUFLVHGE\³P\SRWHQWPDVWHU´  Shakespeare conducts a second, subsidiary debate about the nature of ODERU WKURXJK WKH ¿JXUH RI )HUGLQDQG7KH IRUFH RI VH[XDO DWWUDFWLRQ ZDV RIWHQ connected to both slavery and magic: erotic sympathy was an irrational appetite that attempted, frequently with success, to usurp the reign of reason over the will. Prospero redeems sexual appetite from its magical taint by making it the product RIODERU³OHVWWRROLJKWZLQQLQJ0DNHWKHSUL]HOLJKW´± 7KHORYHRI



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0LUDQGDPXVWEH)HUGLQDQG¶VZDJHVLWPXVWQRWEHJDLQHGE\WKHTXDVLPDJLFDO IRUFHRIVH[7KHYDOXHRIKLV³SUL]H´DULVHVIURPKLVODERU There be some sports are painful, and their labour Delight in them sets off: some kinds of baseness Are nobly undergone and most poor matters Point to rich ends. This my mean task Would be as heavy to me as odious, but The mistress which I serve quickens what’s dead $QGPDNHVP\ODERXUVSOHDVXUHV±

)HUGLQDQG¶VODERULVQRWDXWRWHOLFLQ$ULVWRWOH¶VWHUPVLWLVQRWSHUIRUPHGDVDQHQG LQLWVHOID@OOWKLQJVLQFRPPRQQDWXUH VKRXOGSURGXFH:LWKRXWVZHDWRUHQGHDYRXU´ /DERUSHUVHLVJRRGWKH point is not to avoid it but to redeem it from its alienated condition. Ferdinand’s predicament alludes to the Biblical story of Jacob, who earned the hand of Rebecca by performing seven years’ labor. However, while Jacob’s labor remained servile and irksome to him, the prospective reward transforms Ferdinand’s attitude to his work itself. Shakespeare is redeeming wage labor from its traditional association with servility. At the same time, he is attempting to redeem magic in general from its association with the Satanic. Like William Perkins, he denies the distinction between “white” and “black” magic, but reverses Perkins’s conclusion in suggesting that all magic is “white”: harmless, ethically neutral, or even good. By WKHVWDQGDUGVRIWKHZLWFKKXQWHUVWKHPDJLF3URVSHURSUDFWLFHVLVEODFNRUDVKH SXWVLW³URXJK´>@ QRWEHQLJQRUZKLWH+HFRPPDQGVWKHODERUQRWRQO\RI $ULHO&DOLEDQDQG)HUGLQDQGEXWDOVRRIWKH³HOYHV´DQG³GHPLSXSSHWV´  ZKRPDQXIDFWXUH³JUHHQVRXUULQJOHWV´O DQG³PLGQLJKWPXVKURRPV´O  He practices necromancy: “graves at my command/ Have waked their sleepers, RSHG DQG OHW µHP IRUWK %\ P\ VR SRWHQW DUW´ OO ±  %\ WKH VWDQGDUGV RI WKHHDUO\VHYHQWHHQWKFHQWXU\3URVSHURLVXQHTXLYRFDOO\DVRUFHUHUDQGKLVUHDO life counterparts would be subjected to criminal prosecution for many years after Shakespeare’s death. 7KH7HPSHVWhowever, directs the attention of its audience towards the future, holding out the prospect of a new, different evaluation of practical magic. :KDW3URVSHURFDOOVKLV³SUHVFLHQFH´ LQYROYHVNQRZOHGJHRIWKHIXWXUH But his magic is also the knowledge of the future in the sense that the performative  A point made in a different context by William Rockett in “Labor and Virtue in The 7HPSHVW,”6KDNHVSHDUH4XDUWHUO\ ±

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HI¿FDF\ RI DXWRQRPRXV UHSUHVHQWDWLRQ ZRXOG RYHU WKH FHQWXU\ IROORZLQJ WKH composition of 7KH7HPSHVW, grow into the world’s dominant power. Those with NQRZOHGJHRIWKDWSRZHUWKRVHDEOHWRPDQLSXODWH¿QDQFLDOUHSUHVHQWDWLRQWRWKHLU RZQEHQH¿WDV6KDNHVSHDUHDQGKLVIDWKHUGLGLQUHDOOLIH ZLOOFRQWUROWKHZRUOG of the future just as Prospero controls events on the little world of his island, and by the same means. The dominance that autonomous representation would VRRQDFKLHYHIUHHGLWIURPPRUDOWDLQWDQGWKHHUDRI(XURSHDQZLWFKKXQWVZRXOG draw to a close within the lifetime of the youngest among 7KH 7HPSHVW¶V ¿UVW DXGLHQFHV$VDUHVXOWRIH[FKDQJHYDOXH¶VWULXPSKRYHUXVHYDOXHSHRSOHZRXOG soon stop noticing the reality lurking beneath representation. They would, in other words, cease to “believe in magic,” as Prospero predicts when he discards his cape and books. As generations of political economists have pointed out, however, H[FKDQJHYDOXHLVPHUHO\DVLJQRIDOLHQDWHGODERU)LQDQFLDOYDOXHLVODERUSRZHU in symbolic form. This awkward fact is forgotten and ignored as far as possible in the interest of the market economy’s smooth functioning, but it will not go away. Shakespeare prophesied as much when, in the midst of Prospero’s exultant triumph over his enemies, the magician turns to his slave and admits, with as much foreboding as resignation, “this thing of darkness I/ Acknowledge mine” ± 

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Custom, Debt, and the Valuation of Service Within and Without Early Modern England Amanda Bailey

Let there be freedoms from custom till the plantation be of strength: and not only freedom from custom, but freedom to carry their commodities where they make their best of them. ²)UDQFLV%DFRQ³2I3ODQWDWLRQV´

The Custom of the Colony Although colonial servitude has long been regarded as an extension rather than an aberration of English apprenticeship, recent scholarship has suggested that 1HZ :RUOG ODERU SUDFWLFHV PDUNHG D VLJQL¿FDQW EUHDN ZLWK 2OG :RUOG RQHV. $FFRUGLQJWR(GPXQG0RUJDQ³VHUYLWXGHLQ9LUJLQLD¶VWREDFFR¿HOGVDSSURDFKHG closer to slavery than anything known at the time in England.” Planters, as Hilary McD. Beckles stresses, as a matter of course “freely bought, sold, gambled away, mortgaged, taxed as property, and alienated in wills their indentured servants.”4 

Francis Bacon, “Of Plantations,” in The Genesis of the United StatesYROVHG  $OH[DQGHU%URZQ1HZKHUERG\@´ =HQRFLDKHUVHOIEHJVKLPWR³VHW >KHU@RZQSULFH´ DQGKHUIDWKHUODWHUSOHDGVZLWK&ORGLRWR³OHW>KLP@SD\ WKHUDQVRP´ =HQRFLD¶V@ERG\ZLOOFRQWHQW>KLP@´  :KHQ EULGH JURRP DQG EURWKHULQODZ ÀHH 5RPH &ORGLR GHHPV WKHLU ÀLJKW D crime of property, protesting to Zenocia’s husband Arnoldo, “thou hast robb’d me, YLOODLQRIDWUHDVXUH´  Once the setting of the play shifts from Rome to Lisbon, the interplay of sexual exploitation and threat of enslavement become even more pronounced as the plight of the virgin bride, who construes the trial of her honor as a test of KHU ³PDOH FRQVWDQF\´   LV OLQNHG WR WKDW RI WKH PDOH IRUHLJQ FDSWLYH:KHQ Portuguese pirates hijack the ship carrying the wedding party, the bride’s husband and his brother leap into the ocean to ensure that they will “never” have to “taste WKHEUHDGRIVHUYLWXGH´ V@´ ³IUHHO\´ ,QVWHDGLWLVWKH³HDUQHVWRIWKDWZKLFKLVWRIROORZ´DQGKHH[SODLQV to Antonio that this is “the bond which you must seal for ‘tis your advancement”

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 +DYLQJEHHQJUDQWHGDQDGYDQFH$QWRQLRLVWKHQH[SHFWHGWRZRUNRIIKLV debt by servicing the Jew’s mistress, the ravenous Hippolyta whose “touches” are described as “fetters” and whose “locks” are “soft chains to bind the arms of SULQFHV´ $UQROGRRQO\QDUURZO\HVFDSHVHQVODYHPHQWDVVKHGHFODUHV³8SRQ my conscience, I must ravish thee!” and attempts “to bind him” in literal chains  /LNH&ORGLR+LSSRO\WDVWULYHVWRSRVVHVV$UQROGRVRWKDWVKHPD\³HQMR\ >KLP@LQGHHG´ :KHQKHÀHHVKHUFRXUW+LSSRO\WD¶VH[FODPDWLRQVHFKRWKDWRI &ORGLRZKHQVKHGHHPVWKLVDVDQRIIHQVHDNLQWRWKHZURQJIXOVHL]XUHRISURSHUW\ DQGKDV$UQROGRLPSULVRQHGIRUWKHIWSUHVXPDEO\RIKLPVHOI   Hippolyta, however, undergoes a miraculous transformation after being advised by the Governor of Lisbon that her bondwoman Zenocia cannot be counted as ³DODZIXOSUL]H´EHFDXVHVKHLV³RIWKDWFRXQWU\ZHKROGIULHQGVKLSZLWK´  Suddenly willing to marshal rather than exhaust her resources, Hippolyta generously GHFLGHV WR ³UHGHHP DOO´   DV VKH FRPHV WR UHFRJQL]H WKDW ³,W LV LQ YDLQ 7R VWULYHZLWKGHVWLQ\´ 7KHXOWLPDWHVLJQRIKHUFRQYHUVLRQRFFXUVZKHQVKH acknowledges her place in Lisbon’s credit economy and, as “recompense” for the suffering she has caused, offers to forgive Lisbon “the hundred thousand crowns WKHFLW\RZHV>KHU@´ 6KHVXPPDULO\³GLVFKDUJH>V@´=HQRFLDIURPKHUERQGV   DQG ³XQORRVH>V@´ WKH LPSULVRQHG$UQROGR IURP ³>KLV@ ERQGV´ DV ZHOO   allowing him to “redeem” himself in exchange for his bride. Although no longer enslaved, her charges remain indebted to her. While Arnoldo has been released from his shackles, he must now “pay dearly for her favour,” as one character wryly REVHUYHV   :LWK D NLVV KH SXEOLFO\ SOHGJHV KLPVHOI WR +LSSRO\WD DQG DVNV WKDW VKH ³DFFHSW >KLV@ UHDG\ VHUYLFH´   )RUPDOO\ DFNQRZOHGJLQJ KLV GHEW WR KHUKHDJUHHV³IRUHYHUWREHIHWWHU¶GWR>KHU@´ VRWKDWVKHPD\³FRPPDQG >KLP@WKURXJKZKDWGDQJHU´ 7KLVWLPHLWLVZLWKKLVYROXQWDU\VXEPLVVLRQ WKDW VKH ³PDNHV KLP >KHU@ VODYH´ DV KH ³JLYH>V@ >KLV@ IUHHGRP´ RYHU WR KHU LQ DFNQRZOHGJHPHQWRIKLVGHEW  While Arnoldo successfully staves off Hippolyta’s advances, his brother Rutillio faces an even more dangerous trial when he agrees to serve in a male brothel. The main function of the play’s infamous brothel scene would seem to be the generation of material for a subplot involving the rakish brother of the morally upright protagonist. Yet this scene occupies a more central function in the SOD\WKDQSUHYLRXVVFKRODUVKLSKDVDOORZHGLQWKDWLWDPSOL¿HVWKHSHULOVRIODERU LQDQH[RWLFORFDOHE\GUDPDWL]LQJWKHDVVRFLDWLRQRIFRHUFHGVH[XDOSHUIRUPDQFH and compulsory service. Brothels appear frequently on the early modern English stage, but unlike the majority of plays featuring bawdy houses, &XVWRP does not present a tale of female fall and redemption. Fletcher and Massinger instead use the male stews as a means to show the brutal effects of a market economy on the impressed young man. Although the brothel revolves around the laboring male body, in relinquishing rights to both his capacities and the product of his labor, WKHPDOHVH[ZRUNHUDOLHQDWHVKLPVHOI8QGHUPLQLQJWKHIDQWDV\RIWKHVWHZVDVD proving ground for male stamina, here the brothel is a work site determined by the relationship between the dispossessed worker and the intemperate overseer.



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+XPDQ WUDI¿F LV LQLWLDOO\ SRVLWHG DV DQ DOWHUQDWLYH WR SHQDO ERQGDJH :KHQ 5XWLOOLR LV DSSUHKHQGHG IRU KDYLQJ ³ZDQG¶U>HG@´ LQWR WKH FLW\¶V PXQLWLRQV VWRUHKRXVH   KH LV JLYHQ WKH FKRLFH RI HLWKHU ³VL[ \HDUV WXJ>JLQJ@ DW DQ RDU L¶WK¶JDOOH\V´ RUDOORZLQJ6XOSLWLDWKHEURWKHOPDGDPWRSXUFKDVHKLPIRU GXFDWV+HJODGO\DFFHSWVWKHPDGDP¶VRIIHUDQGLQUHWXUQYRZVWR³JLYHKHU>KLV@ whole self,” which she concurs she “has reason to expect … considering the great VXPVKHSD\VIRULW´ 5XWLOOLRHUURQHRXVO\DVVXPHVWKDWKLVSRWHQF\ZLOODOORZ KLPWRH[FHODVDKHZKRUHDQGKHERDVWV³,DPH[FHOOHQWDWLW´  Bring me a hundred of ‘em: I’ll dispatch ‘em. I will be none but yours. Should another offer Another way to redeem me, I should scorn it. What women you shall please: I am monstrous lusty, 1RWWREHWDNHQGRZQ:RXOG\RXKDYHFKLOGUHQ" ,¶OOJHW\RXWKRVHDVIDVWDQGWKLFNDVÀ\EORZV

)URPWKH¿UVWDFWRIWKHSOD\5XWLOOLR¶VHQWKXVLDVPIRUVH[XDOFRQTXHVWLVHVWDEOLVKHG as he admits his envy of the Count’s plan to enact the “admirable, rare custom” of EULGDOUDSH :KHQKRZHYHULWEHFRPHVHYLGHQWWKDWKHKDVFRQVLJQHGKLPVHOI WRDOLIHRI³WXJ>JLQJ@LQDIHDWKHUEHG´ KHPRGHUDWHVKLVSDVVLRQZLVKLQJ WR EH ³KRQHVWO\ PDUULHG´ VR WKDW KH PLJKW EH ³FLYLOO\ PHUU\´ ±  :RUN LQ the stews, it turns out, is another form of chattel bondage, since his clientele, the ³PHQOHHFK>LQJ@´ FLW\ ZRPHQ RI /LVERQ DUH UHOHQWOHVVO\ GHPDQGLQJ DQG QHYHU VDWLV¿HG  'HVSLWHWKHEURWKHO¶VODERUIRUFHRIDEOHERGLHG\RXQJPHQGHPDQGSXVKHV production to its breaking point. One worker bemoans the grueling conditions and ZDUQVWKHXQ\LHOGLQJ0DGDP³LV@VRPXFK«DQGVRIHZWRSHUIRUPLW´ 7KH\FXUVHWKHFOLPDWHZKLFKLV GHVFULEHGDVVXOWU\WKH³GDPSLVKDLU´FDXVLQJ³DVQXI¿QJLQ>WKH@KHDG´ DQG ³WRRZDUPIRU>WKHLU@FRPSOH[LRQV´ 7KH'DQLVKDQG*HUPDQPHQDUHEURNHQ RQHLVGHVFULEHGDVLQ³¿WWHUV´RUIUDJPHQWVDQG³FKLQ¶G´ RUEURNHQEDFNHG DQGDQRWKHULVLQKRVSLWDODQGQRORQJHUDEOHWR³ODERXUOLNHDWKUHVKHU´ 7KH (QJOLVKZRUNHUVIDUHQREHWWHUDQGDUHOHIWWR³GUDZWKHLUOHJVOLNHKDFNQH\V´  In the end, even Rutillio complains bitterly: 1RZGR,ORRNDVLI,ZHUHFURZWURGGHQ Fie, how my hams shrink under me! Oh, me, ,DPEURNHQZLQGHGWRR,VWKLVDOLIH" … I had a body once, a handsome body, And wholesome too. Now I appear like a rascal That had been hung a year or two in gibbets. Fie, how I faint. … 3ODFHPHEHIRUHDFDQQRQµWLVDSOHDVXUH

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Stretch me upon a rack. … 1RJDOOH\VWREHJRWQRU\HWQRJDOORZV"

$PDQZKR³GUDZ>V@>KLV@OHJVDIWHU>KLPVHOI@OLNHDODPHGRJ´DQGZKRLV³WRR IHHEOH´WRUXQDZD\ 5XWLOOLRLVRXWGRQHDWWKHSURVSHFWRISOHDVLQJ³DQROG GHDGSDOVLHGODG\LQDOLWWHU´ +HUHDOL]HVWKDWWKHEURWKHOFDQQRWVHUYHDVDQ opportunity for adventure and empowerment since value does not inhere in the skills he offers but rather in his body’s capacity to endure. Pleasing the women of /LVERQSURYHVPRUHGHPDQGLQJWKDQ³ODERXULQJLQ>WKH@IXOOLQJPLOOV´ DQG KHJURZVZLVWIXODWWKHWKRXJKWRIZDJHODERUZKHUHE\KHFRXOGOHDVHKLVSHUVRQ while still retaining proprietorship of himself: “Death, if I had but money, / Or any friends to bring me from this bondage, / I would thresh, … keep hogs / … Thatch IRUWKUHHKDOISHQFHDGD\DQGWKLQNLWORUGO\)URPWKLVEDVHVWDOOLRQWUDGH´  The Madam’s response to Rutillio’s request for liberty parodies that of the SODQWHUFXPVODYHRZQHU If you be so angry, Pay back the money I redeem’d you at And take your course. I can have men enough. You lost me an hundred crowns since you came hither, In broths and strength’ning caudles. Till you do pay me, If you will eat and live, you shall endeavour. ,¶OOFKDLQ\RXWR¶WHOVH

7KURXJK WKH ¿JXUH RI WKH 0DGDP ZH DUH VKRZQ WKH GLUH UHVXOWV RI WKH JURVV PLVPDQDJHPHQW RI OLTXLG DVVHWV LQ WKLV FDVH RI VHPHQ UDWKHU WKDQ FDVK RU WREDFFR $GHPRUDOL]HGDQGSRWHQWLDOO\UHEHOOLRXVZRUNIRUFHDQGDQHQWHUSULVH always hovering on the verge of extinction. Labor performed outside the stable context of the guild or household devolves into a promiscuous arrangement when the worker’s performance is compelled by threats of an emasculating authority, misogynistically coded as female. The moral problem of male prostitution as presented in &XVWRP spoke to the most VWDUWOLQJH[DPSOHRI(QJODQG¶VLQYROYHPHQWLQKXPDQWUDI¿FLQWKHFRORQLHV7KH VHOOLQJRIIRIDVHUYDQW¶VFRQWUDFWZDVQRWHQWLUHO\XQNQRZQLQHDUO\VHYHQWHHQWK FHQWXU\(QJODQGZLWKWKHSHUPLVVLRQRIJXLOGPHPEHUVDPDVWHUFRXOGVHOOKLV apprentice to another company member. But by the time Fletcher and Massinger’s play was performed, the binding of an apprentice with the intent to sell him was considered a gross abuse of authority.,QDFDVKSRRUFRORQ\KRZHYHUWKHERGLHV of young men, in the words of Virginian planter John Pory, were understood to VHUYH DV WKH FRORQ\¶V ³SULQFLSDOO ZHDOWK´ 59&   ,Q RI¿FLDO UHSRUWV DQG personal letters, young men tell of being equated with pounds sterling or pounds of WREDFFR59& 'HVSLWHEHLQJUHFRJQL]HGDVYDOXDEOHLQYHVWPHQWVFRORQLDO  Jocelyn O. Dunlop, (QJOLVK $SSUHQWLFHVKLS DQG &KLOG /DERXU $ +LVWRU\ 1HZ HU@VRQV DQG RWKHUV LJQRUDQW DQG XQVNLOOIXOO LQ VXFK PDWWHUV  WR VHUYH WKHP XSRQ intollerable and unchristianlike condicons upon promises of such rewards and recompence, as they were no wayes able to performe nor ever meant. 59&

Rutillio’s delusions of unlimited sexual potency mirror the misguided hopes of the beguiled young men who slavishly labored on plantations, clinging to the promise RIUHFRPSHQVHWKDWZRXOGQHYHUPDWHULDOL]H Rutillio’s problem is solved, however, not simply by his own change of heart but also by the introduction of yet another economic arrangement. He is released from the “base trade” into which he has been impressed when he is redeemed E\WKHRQFHKRWKHDGHGDULVWRFUDWLF'XDUWHZKROLNH+LSSRO\WDKDVXQGHUJRQHD PLUDFXORXVWUDQVIRUPDWLRQ-X[WDSRVHGERWKWRWKHOXVW\KHZKRUHDQGWKHJUHHG\ 0DGDP'XDUWHLVWKHHPERGLPHQWRIWHPSHUDQFHH[HPSOL¿HGE\KLVPDJQDQLPRXV offer to pay the Madam the entire balance due, despite the fact that the amount of Rutillio’s debt has inexplicably doubled. The character of Duarte represents the SURFHVVE\ZKLFKSDVVLRQPD\EHUH¿QHGDVKHFRPHVWRREWDLQDQDZDUHQHVVRI the virtue of exchange over and above possession. Once his extremities are calmed, Duarte’s interest in gain overtakes his unbridled passion for pleasure. He effectively IRUVZHDUVREVHVVLYHVHOIORYHH[HPSOL¿HGE\FRPSXOVLYHERDVWLQJDQGGXHOLQJDQG in seeking to achieve a temperate existence based on an understanding of the self as embedded within economic and social networks, he demonstrates that appetite may prove to be a socially useful channel for the production of consensual community. Rutillio is redeemed, but he is not free. He ends his days as Duarte’s stepfather when he agrees to marry his creditor’s mother, the woman to whom he declares KLPVHOIERXQGE\³WKHLQ¿QLWHGHEW>KH@RZH>V@>KHU@´ +HKDVDOVRDFFHSWHG DORDQRIFURZQVIURPKHU>@ 7KURXJKKLV¿QDQFLDOGHSHQGHQFHRQERWK mother and son, Rutillio is inserted into a credit economy that requires him to LGHQWLI\KLPVHOIDV³DFUHDWXUHERXQG>WRWKHP@´ ,QWKHHQGWKHGLVWLQFWLRQ between degrading labor and economic bondage turns on the temperament of the consenting parties. In heralding economic obligation as socially restorative, Fletcher and Massinger echo Aristotle who advocates redemption as mediated by considerations of the status and disposition of the participating parties: If, for instance, someone has ransomed you from pirates, should you ransom him in return, QRPDWWHUZKRKHLV"2ULIKHGRHVQRWQHHGWREHUDQVRPHGEXWDVNVIRU KLVPRQH\EDFNVKRXOG\RXUHWXUQLWRUVKRXOG\RXUDQVRP\RXUIDWKHULQVWHDG" Here it seems that you should ransom your father, rather than even yourself. 

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This example further illustrates Aristotle’s discussion of proportionate reciprocity DVVXLWHGQHLWKHUWRGLVWULEXWLYHMXVWLFHH[HPSOL¿HGE\WKHFRPPXQDOGLVSHQVDWLRQ RI ZHDOWK QRU WR UHWL¿FDWRU\ MXVWLFH ZKLFK RIIHUV UHWULEXWLRQ &RQMRLQLQJ the concerns of social justice and economic obligation in Aristotelian terms, &XVWRPrejects exploitation and equality alike demonstrating that only a mutual arrangement devised between a rational superior and an economically beholden, VHOISRVVHVVHGLQIHULRUEXWWUHVVHVDKDUPRQLRXVVRFLDORUGHU In this respect, the play offers a psychological primer for a functional commercial society based on relations of credit. Although a social order founded on the speculative prospect of redeeming one’s bonds may inspire speculation, fantasy, and passion, it also creates the conditions in which the subject may transcend his primitive appetites, allowing him to abandon barbarous custom and embrace mutual agreement. Conclusion &XVWRPEHJLQVZLWKWKHFDOOWR³PDNHZLWKDOOPDLQVSHHGWRWK¶SRUW´ DQGDW its bleakest moments its protagonist muses “my life’s so full of various changes WKDW,QRZGHVSDLURIDQ\FHUWDLQSRUW´ ,WHQGVKRZHYHUZLWK³WKHHYHQLQJ «VHWFOHDUDIWHUDVWRUP\GD\´ DQGHYHU\RQH¶VEDUNDWODVW³KDYLQJIRXQG DTXLHWKDUERXU´ &HUWDLQO\E\QRKDUERUZDVTXLHWDVORQJDVLWZDV SDUWRIDQRFHDQLFZRUOGGULYHQE\SXUVXLWRISUR¿W$WWKHPRPHQWRI&XVWRP’s ¿UVW SHUIRUPDQFH WKH ¿QDQFLDO DQG OHJDO VFDIIROGLQJ WKDW XSKHOG D WKULYLQJ credit economy within England tied London to a world of commerce beyond its ERUGHUVDQGDQHZHSLVWHPRORJLFDORUGHUWKDWLGHQWL¿HGFHUWDLQERGLHVDVYLDEOH commodities. Through &XVWRP¶V GUDPDWL]DWLRQ RI WKH DPELJXLW\ RI WKH SRUW insofar as oceanic travel leads to travail, the play speaks to both the unlimited potential of the colonial expansion and the limits of colonial imaginary. In volume one of &DSLWDO, Marx argues that the slave can only exist in underdeveloped relations of production in which a person unable to lay claim to his or her own labor may be possessed by others. The difference between the slave and the worker marks a key moment in the evolution of the capitalist PRGH RI SURGXFWLRQ EDVHG RQ WKH LQWHUGHSHQGHQF\ RI ZDJHODERU DQG SULPLWLYH accumulation, providing Marx with the theoretical means by which to integrate the history of labor into that of capital. By arguing that only those who exercise the ULJKWWREX\DQGVHOOFRPPRGLWLHVLQFOXGLQJWKHPVHOYHV DUHIUHH0DU[LGHQWL¿HV the market as determinative of the valuation of workers, rather than the quality



Meikle in $ULVWRWOH¶V(FRQRPLF7KRXJKW makes a convincing case for proportionate reciprocity, exchange premised on inequity, as a distinct kind of justice rather than a species RIHLWKHUFRUUHFWLYHRUGLVWULEXWLYHMXVWLFH±  Karl Marx, &DSLWDO$ &ULWLTXH RI 3ROLWLFDO (FRQRP\ YRO  WUDQV %HQ )RZNHV 1HZKLV@VSLFH´DQGWKDWKHSODQV WRUREKLPDQGWKHVKHHSVKHDUHUVDWWKHIHVWLYDOKHH[SHFWV³WKHVKHDUHUV>ZLOO@ SURYH VKHHS´    8QOLNH WKH UHODWLRQVKLS EHWZHHQ VSLFHV DQG WKRVH WKH\ SUHVHUYH RU SHDUOV WKDW HQKDQFH WKH YDOXH RI YHQWXUHUV VKHHSVKHDUHUV DUH collapsed into the commodity they produce, but do not sell. Moreover, the other VKHHSVKHDUHUVEX\IULYRORXVLWHPVDQGLQDXWKHQWLFEDOODGVIURP$XWRO\FXVZKR DOVRXVHVWKHPHVPHUL]LQJHIIHFWVRIKLVSURGXFWVWRGLVWUDFWKLVDXGLHQFHDQGSLFN their pockets. The cycle of reproduction and investment is stalled through theft, and if the festival is supposed to bring different classes together, the focus of this one is the outrage of the king at his son’s desire for Perdita, who is believed to be just a shepherd’s daughter. And yet, the old shepherd still has an unspeakable estate, produced in part by his investment in sheep enabled by Leontes’s sending of Perdita and a box of gold across the sea. Leontes’s action is careless, but the play transforms all RI WKHVH ORVVHV LQWR SUR¿WDEOH LQYHVWPHQW ZKLFK LV QRQHWKHOHVV DOVR FRPSOH[O\ intertwined with theft and particularly theft from those who labor. This complexity is at least partially attributable to the paradox at the heart of accounting for labor in DFDSLWDOLVWHFRQRP\²DSUREOHPZLWKZKLFKWZHQW\¿UVWFHQWXU\HFRQRPLVWVDQG politicians are still grappling. On the one hand, if we fully account for the value RIODERUWKHUHLVQRSUR¿WIRULQYHVWRUVDQGWKHF\FOHRISURGXFWLYLW\LVKDOWHGRQ the other, discounting labor goes against a principle gaining ground in the early seventeenth century: putting people to work and valuing their labor is fundamental to the wellbeing of the commonwealth. The play calls attention to this paradox through Autolycus’s discounting of his own labor, which is nonetheless necessary to the play’s prosperous resolution. Though the plot depends on Autolycus’s actions to bring all of the characters back to Sicilia, he generously disowns his role in the ¿QDOGLVFRYHULHV³%XW¶WLVDOORQHWRPHIRUKDG,EHHQWKH¿QGHURXWRIWKLVVHFUHW LWZRXOGQRWKDYHUHOLVKHGDPRQJP\RWKHUGLVFUHGLWV´±  What the play imagines, however, is not the mere elision of Autolycus’s ODERUEXWLWVWUDQVIRUPDWLRQVRWKDWVXUSOXVUHPDWHULDOL]HVHOVHZKHUH7KLVVFHQH LV IROORZHG E\ WKH SOD\¶V ¿QDO RQH ZKLFK FHQWHUV RQ WKH UHYLYL¿FDWLRQ RI WKH VXSSRVHGO\GHDG+HUPLRQH¶VVWDWXH7KHVWDWXHLVDW¿UVWFUHGLWHGLQUHODWLRQWRWKH value of the labor necessary to produce it. It is “a piece many years in doing and QHZO\SHUIRUPHGE\WKDWUDUH,WDOLDQPDVWHU*LXOLR5RPDQR´± 0RUHRYHU LWLV³PDVWHUO\GRQH´WKHSURGXFWRIWKH³FDUYHU¶VH[FHOOHQFH´