Love and a woman's will in Hyde Park

Hyde Park’s three subplots focus on marital relationships (existing or potential), but we do not see much romance in the play. Carol falls in “love” with Fairfield when he appears to be what she can’t have, while Julietta chooses Bonvile because she values his apparent desire to become virtuous over Trier’s jealous affection. Mistress Bonavent responds to the letter revealing that her husband has returned to her after seven years by simply exclaiming, “Blessed delivery!” and proceeding to conceal/ignore his arrival without difficulty (4.3). Her switch from new to old husband in the play’s final scene is a swift decision that seems unaffected by emotion. Does love exist in this play? If not, what replaces it in the decision to marry?

Regardless of the existence of love in these relationships, though, it is significant that the marital decisions are made by women. Each woman must choose between two or three competing suitors, who are competing for her heart rather than her fortune, her father’s approval, etc. The play places much emphasis on a woman’s will, especially in Carol’s insistence on keeping her “humour” (among other things), and in Julietta’s self-assertion in rejecting Trier and standing up to Lord Bonvile to defend virtue (“’Tis the first liberty / I ever took to speak myself; I have / Been bold in the comparison, but find not / Wherein I have wrong’d virtue, pleading for it” 5.1). These women clearly hold more power than the women of most of the comedies we’ve read, but are we to see them as independent? Julietta rejects Trier, but she puts up with his suspicion and thus deals with Bonvile’s unwelcome advances throughout the play. Mistress Bonavent chooses to remarry, but this choice stems from her desire to not “Be held a cruel woman” (1.2). Do the women make choices based on what they desire, or is female agency undermined by male and societal influence?

Male constancy

We have talked on several occassions about tests of constancy as they have been employed on women in several of the plays this semester, and this one is no exception. But I think Hyde Park offers us a new kind of constancy test for a man as well. In Act I scene ii, Mistress Bonavent lays out her reason for finally accepting Lacy's marriage proposal, "And therefore I resolve, upon so large / A trial of his constancy, at last / To give him the reward of his respects / To me" (469). She is speaking of Lacy's constancy in waiting out her seven year oath to confirm the death of her lost husband, and it seems he passes with flying colors and so is rewarded with her agreement to marry. In the case of Julietta, who also passes her constancy test, she is "rewarded" with a marriage proposal from Trier, but she refuses. Lacy's constancy, however, is little-considered with the quick reestablishment of the Bonavent's marriage at the end of the play. Are tests of constancy, then, subverted in some way in Hyde Park? Are these consequences of these tests merely commentaries on their foolishness or is there something more interesting being claimed about the implications of such tests on the two different genders?

Domestic tyranny

We have discussed the nature of tyranical kings somewhat over the course of this semester, but in Hyde Park, a different kind of tyranny is explored in Mistress Carol. In Act I scene 1, Trier describes says of her, "Why, I hear she is / A very tyrant over men." The use of this term seems to imply that Mistress Carol's shrewish (or perhaps merely threateningly intelligent?) manner carries somewhat dangerous consequences. Based on our previous discussions about what makes a leader tyrannical, can we agree with Trier's description of Mistress Carol using this term? What are the implications of moving tyranny to the domestic rather than the political sphere and assigning it to an unmarried and unwidowed female?

Tokens: The Money of "Love"

As Venture is trying to convince Trier (and himself) that he has successfully wooed Carol, Trier asks, "You are not yet contracted?"  Venture replies uncertainly, "No, she chang'd / Some amorous tokens; do you see this diamond? / A toy she gave me...and in exchange / She took a chain of pearl...These to the wise are arguments of love, / And mutual promises" (p. 463).  Of course, we find out later that Carol has merely exchanged tokens between two suitors and kept nothing for herself.  However, she gives the impression to both that she has entered some kind of "contract" of love.  How do these exchanges and Carol's own question to Venture of, "Because I took your diamond, must you presently bound like a ston'd-horse," complicate the place of objects between lovers?  Can Carol only pursue this kind of play because she is an autonomous woman?

Spaces, Races and Give Up the Chases

I'm thinking about the way space functions in the play. In the city comedies that we have read, there is a strong sense of being in a commercial space; as we discussed in relation to Cymbeline, there is the opposition of nature and a kind of "placelessness." Hyde Park likewise presents a kind of vague "placelessness " in opposition to nature, but the unlike the natural caves and hillsides of Cymbeline, nature takes the form of a man-made park. What, then, are we to make of this modified opposition? Additionally, the park being the place of various races and gambling transforms it into a place of commerce. What is the impact of a quasi-pastoral space overrun (oops, sorry) with this particular kind of monetary exchange?

I was also struck by Carol's speech to Mrs. B. (I.II) in which Carol berates her for wanting to give up her life of "plenty and command" in exchange for "I, Cicely, take thee, John, to be my husband." With words such as "command," "rule," "control," "chid," "catechis'd," and "subjects," I'm mindful of our discussions of the intersection between the domestic and the political (good kings making good husbands, etc.) So, I guess I wondering about the absence of the monarchy in this play. Is it just that we're back to comedy, and so this language serves to suggest the "political" power with which the play is concerned (marriage), or are there broader implications to Carol's imaginings of a "new world" of like-minded women who prefer the "tedious tales / Of Hollingshed, than any thing that trenches / On love" ?

The Love Gamble

1. The practice and language of gambling is recurrent throughout Hyde Park. Most obviously, we see quite a bit of gambling in its most literal sense during the races that take place in Act 4 Scene 3. Reference to gambling also occurs during the play’s witty dialogue, as seen in the “advice” that Mistress Carol gives to Fairfield: “you should look big, and swear you are no gamester; practice dice and cards a little better, you will get many confusions and fine curses by’t” (1.2). Fairfield takes her advice, and by metaphorically playing his “cards” better, wins her love. Gambling then is not only a recurring image but also a theme that can be expanded to represent the “gambling” involved in courtship and love. How is each character’s courtship a “gamble”? Which characters win? Which characters lose? How are the characters characterized by their method of courtship gambling? How does the result of their gambling affect their futures, and our final view of them? What is the overall effect of using gambling as a metaphor for courtship and love?
2. At the conclusion of the play, Julietta discovers that Trier has been testing her “virtue.” Angered by this test, she declares that “if men be at such a loss of goodness, I will value myself, and think no honour equal to remain a virgin” (5.2). If she were to remain a virgin for the rest of her life, her particular subplot would mark a deviation from the formulaic comic ending characterized by the promise of future generations. However, at the very end of the play, Lord Bonvile suggests his intention to win her and marry her, stating in the play’s final lines: “By thy cure I am now myself, yet dare call nothing mine, till I be perfect blest in being thine” (5.2.). Why does Julietta reject Trier in a move uncharacteristic of female characters involved in the “virtue test” plot? Why is her future transferred to Lord Bonvile? What does this change do for a reading of the three characters involved in the love triangle? Why does Shirly choose to end the play with this subplot, and in this fashion?

Real Men Don't Love

In I.ii., Carol chastises Fairfield as one of the many men who, "neglect / Yourselves, the nobleness of your birth and nature, / By servile flattery of this jigging, / And that coy mistress; keep your privilege, / Your masculine property" (p. 472).  This is a woman's perspective of the definition of masculine identity as something above the obligations of courtship (and love).  If Carol is indeed giving us a definition of "maleness," what does this do to the patrilineal inheritance system and her place in it as the mother?  I think she's having dangerous thoughts here, and throughout the first three acts, about the irrelevance and perhaps even outdatedness of love in a society that revolves around a familial structure which demands marriage and children.  She is not just a coy female playing with the hearts of her admirers, she is challenging the masculinity of almost every man in the play because she reduces their words and actions of "love" to meaningless dribble.  Why, then, is she "conquered" in the end by a simple act of reverse psychology?  Does "love" win out or is she merely bested by the denial of "having her desires"?

A Horse by Another Name

Dancing seems a loaded pursuit in Hyde Park. “Choose your firk” (II.II) is not offered as a choice, but at least an obligation and at most a threat. The word “jigging” is scorned and is connected with flattery as a kind of social evil. Bonavent is forced to perform, “You shall shake your heels” (II.II) and maligned for refusing but devises a kind of revenge that seems to offer a different amusement. Bonavent dislikes the awkward predicament of having to dance at his own wife’s second wedding, so he says to Lacey, “Where’s my sword, sir? I have been your hobby-horse.” (II.II) The pressure to strut around in the city seems contrasted against the horse and foot scenes in the park. "Let you and I venture a pair of gloves/Upon their feet." (III.I). Yet the garland/Morris Dance embarrassment that Bonavent serves up appears to be a far greater insult. Overall the humiliation placed on Bonavent seems to overstretch the situation. What is Shirly saying about ‘civilized sport’ between folk?

“I do not like myself.” (V.I)

Why does Julietta place so much importance on the appearance of Lord Bonvile honor? “Because he is your noble friend, and one/ In whom was hid so much perfection/ of honor, for at first ‘twas most invisible, But it begins to appear, and I do perceive /A glimmering, it may break out a flame.” (III.I) It is simply from Trier’s estimation or is she too swayed by his title? Despite his forward advances and “Lord me no lords” (V.I), Julietta holds Lord B. at a higher standard because of his nobility, but this measurement is one which appears weak. The ironic condition between ancestral gentility and moral composition is on display here in Hyde Park. Julietta: “On that which you proponded, sir, your honor:/It is above all other obligation,/and be that’s truly noble, will not stain it.” (III.I.)

If Lord B. encompasses one kind of hubris, then Trier, by comparison, seems to possess a self-loathing by distancing himself from Julietta. In addition, Trier is holding up the bond between Lord B’s might and right as a kind of currency, a gold standard, which can be used as barter; this kind of “security” is played against Julietta’s virtue. Julietta, in the middle of this jeu de trois, emerges as the hero. By revealing both her suitors worse traits, she makes possible their transformations. Trier remarks of her abilities, “I know thou art proof against a thousand engines.” (III.1) How does this City Comedy reveal human and social ills against an urban setting? What is Shirly saying about the potential for renewal?

1.) How can we compare the romantic dynamic between Julietta, Trier and Lord Bonvile to others we have seen so far, especially in regards to issues of social status, the idea of virtue, and the sexual double standard?

2.) Multiple characters within Hyde Park express the opinion that the only way to deal with the opposite sex is to sever themselves from it. (Fairfield, for example, gives a very dramatic interpretation of this sentiment when he suggests that the only way he can "triumph" over women is to geld himself.) How does wit and/or witty duplicity undercut or exacerbate this tension, and do the pairings at the play's conclusion reconcile or simply obscure the expressions of the (social) incompatibilities between men and women?

There's little euphemism about talking of maidenheads in Hyde Park. It's a popular topic for lords and pages alike. What's the mannerly way to talk about physical virginity in England beyond the play, or what would it be in the play? Would anyone talk about it in this way or is this just an exaggeration for the sake of the comedy? Also, I know we've talked about the importance of virginity and chastity for inheritences but how about the physical part of it? That part seems to beespecially important in Hyde Park I think.

The jests and wit in Hyde Park seem more about almost lighthearted contests between peers rather than spiteful cunning. Maybe comparable to the three wits in Epicene. Is this fair to say? What does that mean? Also, there's alot of Ha Ha Ha. Are they having more fun in this play than in the others? Maybe because of the nature of friendly contest rather than vengeful cunning?

Hyde Park and the Blazon as Vitriol

At one point, Carol directs at Fairfield a blazon of her suitor's head, elaborating on the rough appearance of his nose, eyes, and lips. Full of unrequited love, her responses to his advances act out a Pretrarchan conceit, though they may be especially contemptuous and vitriolic. What is Shirley doing with the archetypes of romantic comedy, sadomasochism being often deployed in the genre (see Taming of the Shrew), and to gender relations?

Hyde Park and Letter-writing

Once again, one of the key plot-threads in a Jacobean play is complicated by the "manipulation" of a written letter: that of Fairfield to Carol about his supposed malcontentment and potential suicide. This, of course, drives them closer together near the end. He suggests that the letter was in fact forged. In an era 200 years before letter delivery was rationalized and beaureaucratized, what does this apprehension and doubt surrounding the delivered "mail" suggest about beliefs in the cycle of communication and interpretation?

Liberty

Julietta states at the play's conclusion that "I pray deny me not that liberty: / I will have proof, too, of the man I choose / My husband; [and ,] believe me, if men be / At such a loss of goodness, I will value / Myself, and think of no honour equal to / Remain a virgin." (V.ii)

Her language seems bold and nearly matriarchal (if it weren't concerned with marriage). To what extent is this small speech a microcosm of the women in the play as a whole? Are the women in the play choosing the men? Are they being manipulated? Who controls who in this play?

Trier, Julietta, and Lord Bonvile

I am a bit confused about how we are supposed to react to the relationship between Lord Bonvile and Julietta. The irony that Trier loses her is obvious, but is it supposed to be funny or tragic...or both? Bonvile isn't all that noble but he suddenly becomes such; is that transformation comedic? And is Trier's position at the end tragic or humorous? In line with this reasoning, what is the role of jealously in the play and to what extent are all the subplots about jealously?

Prose departure?

Why does Venture claim "Ladies, I take this leave in prose, / You shall see me next in other feet" when his speech is in (admittedly highly irregular) verse? Is he being shown as a liar with his language use? Or should this speech be set as prose (it's verse in my edition) and did the compositor of the 1637 quarto (the copy-text for my edition) decide to expand the speech slightly for the purposes of casting off properly?

Repetition and Service in 'Hyde Park'

One of the things that struck me in Hyde Park was the amount of repetition, particularly the number of times one character parrots back another character's lines. I also found it interesting that our 19th century editor italicized these repetitions. Why does this trope appear so often in this play? Is this a tendency of Shirley's writing? Does it serve a non-comic function in addition to its obvious comic effect? Is this play, in someway, about the way that characters repeat each other?

As I read through the seduction and romantic scenes, I was struck by the vast quantity of references to 'service.' I'll admit that this was seeded in my brain because of the amount of time I spent reading The Changeling, but it occurs to often to ignore. Here are some examples: "her servant" (II.i), "command me", "servant", "in [your servant's] number pray write me" (II.iii), "your servant" (IV.iii), etc. How is love in this play related to different understandings of service? Is Bonvile's winning of Julietta, though she is originally with Trier, based on his rhetorical attempt to position himself as 'servant'? How does that contrast with her relationship with Trier? Does Trier position himself as her 'master'?

"I'll take the Irish"

If the "green world" of Hyde Park's pastoral interior is representative of an enclosed, quintessentially "English" (and artistocratic) space that is at once both interior and exterior (like the double nature of the stage of the playhouse), what does it say for the effectiveness of the supposed boundaries drawn around the Park that so many transnational references pervade the play? From the victorious Irish racer (though Shirley himself had been in Dublin in the early 1630s when the London playhouses were closed due to plague) to the constant discussion of language and the danger of "mistranslation" (that is, the failure of language -- plain English -- to communicate meaning), the idea of Englishness as something fixed, defensible, and final seems challenged by the play. Of particular interest in this context is Mistress Carol's fantastic speech in III.ii in which she dissects the anatomy of Fairfield's face in explicitly transnational terms, her light mockery haunted by a distinct racial anxiety:

"Would I had art enough to draw your picture,
It would show rarely at the Exchange; you have
A medley in your face of many nations:
Your nose is Roman, which your next debauchment
At tavern, with the help of pot or candlestick,
May turn to Indian, flat; your lip is Austrian,
And you do well to bite it; for your chin,
It does incline to the Bavarian poke,
But seven years may disguise it with a beard,
And make it more ill favored; you have eyes,
Especially when you goggle thus, not much
Unlike a Jew's, and yet some men might take 'em
For Turk's by the two half moon that rise about 'em. --
[Aside] I am an infidel to use him thus."

songs and singing

What is the purpose or function of the songs interjected in "Hyde Park"? Is there a significance beyond wit/humor?

Questions of Character

At the beginning of the play, Carol is a fiercely independent woman who makes a mockery of her suitors. Later, she promises Fairfield that she shall never love him, and then quickly succumbs to a desire for him. This bit of reverse psychology is interesting because it mirrors our current belief in the power of reverse psychology, especially in regards to children. Does Fairfield’s plot infantilize Carol? Does she become less like a woman and more like a child in this instance? Or, does she become more of a woman due to her adult desire for Fairfield and her rejection of ‘playing games?’ How does an exchange of independence for dependence construct Carol as ‘a woman’ in the context of the period?

At the end of the play, Bonavent reveals himself as the husband ‘lost at sea’ who is in fact alive and well. His wife is ecstatic over this turn of events, although she is married to Lacy. Surprisingly, Lacy is also happy with Bonavent’s return, as he says “I was not ripe for such a blessing; take her, And with an honest heart I wish you joys” (Act V.2). Lacy’s generosity seems astounding. He loses his wife, but implies that he didn’t deserve her, while Bonavent does. Why is Lacy so honorable in this situation? Are there hints of his noble character earlier in the play that make this scene possible? Why doesn’t the loss of his wife upset him more?

empty rhetoric and false words

There are a lot of instances of in which characters openly accuse others of not meaning what they say, or words are somehow portrayed as false: "I'll not believe ... you mean so wantonly what you say" (Julietta, 3.1); "How far thy tongue and heart do live asunder!" (Fairefield, 3.2); the letter signed with Fairefield's name, but he knows nothing about at the very beginning of 5.1; "Talk, and talk out thy heart" (Fairefield, 5.1).

What's the significance of this theme? What work does it do within the context of the play?

Fashion & Bodies; Pleasure & Nobility

As Hyde Park investigates manners and what is fashionable in West End London, how do bodies enter into that conversation? Bodies, body parts (e.g. eyes, lips, hands, legs, feet, shoulders), and bodily engagements (e.g. dancing, kissing, running) are prevalent throughout the play, but for what social purpose? It seems having a stylish mastery over one's body--being able to dance or sing--is counterposed by fumbling off a horse and into mud. With Carol's speech in 3.2 ("Would I had art enough to draw your picture/ It would shew rarely at the Exchange") and other bodily matters, is there some sort of divide being created between one's physical constitution and a social body/a body that serves fashionable purposes?

Greg's second question makes me reexamine the first mention of Lord Bonvile in 1.1:

Venture: What's he?
Trier: A sprig of nobility,
That has a spirit equal to his fortunes;
A gentleman that loves clean napery.
Venture: I guess your meaning.
Trier: A lady of pleasure; 'tis no shame for men
Of his high birth to love a wench; his honor
May privilege more sins; next to a woman,
He loves a horse.--
Setting aside these recreations,
He has a noble nature, valiant, bountiful.

Is Bonvile's behavior excused from the beginning? "Pleasure" seems to be the guiding principle for Bonvile. He identifies Julietta as a "woman of pleasure" in 2.3 and in 5.1 puns on the word as he speaks with Julietta. What is important about Bonvile's tastes, as they are defined, considering he is the only member of the nobility in the play?

"A question most untoothsome."

The moment in Act IV, scene iii, where Bonavent challenges Lacy to dance, rather than duel, is very amusing to me. I suppose that, as the audience, we should expect him to desire to cross swords with Lacy as he (Lacy) has married Bonavent's wife. But that's not what happens. Instead, Bonavent hires a bagpiper to play music and, declining Lacy's offer of a duel, insists only that Lacy owes him a dance. Can we connect this displacement of violence for revelry (of a sort) to the Green space that Hyde Park represents? Is there a connection to be made wherein the natural world obeys a different logic, perhaps a celebratory logic rather than a vengeful logic? Or is this just the place where the play becomes a tragic-comedy rather than a revenge play?

The thwarted marriage between Julietta and Trier seems to be the most tragic aspect of this play. We can surmise that Trier's uncouth test of Julietta's faithfulness is what brought about the breaking-off of the engagement. However, the third part of this love triangle, Lord Bonvile, is what troubles me. Of all the characters, he seems to make the most sexual puns and solicits Julietta sexually near the end of the play. Essentially, his transgressions, on the surface, seem to me to be worse than Trier's test. There is one important difference; Lord Bonvile purports to see how vile he appears and promises to change. Julietta accepts this and promises to honor Lord Bonvile at the end of the play. My question, going along with Ann's about the Comedy of Manners, is this: do we see the beginning of a change in the trend of plays with various tests (virginity, faithfulness, etc.) that shows they will not be tolerated? Is Lord Bonvile believable when he says that he will change even though throughout the whole play he has made many sexual puns? Does his change of heart endear him to us more than Trier, who seems a very stock character in his desire to test his fiance?

On a short side note, doesn't it seem interesting that his name is Lord Bon-vile? Good-vile? Tragic-comedy personified?

Mistress Jeer-all in the Park

Wit and Jeering

Hyde Park seems to place special emphasis on “wit.” The word occurs quite often, usually in a complimentary tone, and much of the play’s subplot concerning Lady Carol is devoted to verbal games in which she and Fairfield try to out-wit each other. Wit seems to be placed in contrast, and sometimes in alignment with the notion of “jeering.” Lady Carol has a “jeering wit” (467) and Fairfield calls her “madam jeer-all” (534). He later commends the Milkmaid for her purity, lamenting “That wit and good clothes should infect a woman” (517).

How does wit function in this play? Is it gendered (i.e., men have wit, women can jeer)? Does it relate to love? To the “games”? How does it compare to other plays (specifically Epicene) in which the notion of “wit” seems to be prominent?

Hyde Park as Pastoral Space?

We have noticed in most of our other tragicomedies elements of the pastoral or green world, in which characters escape and/or become something else (e.g. Philaster, Cymbeline). I was wondering if this might relate to Hyde Park? I’m not terribly familiar with the geography of 17^th century London, but it seems from the text that Hyde Park was (as it is now) a large wooded or open area in the midst of urban London. If I believe my brief internet research, it was originally used as a private hunting ground for the king and other gentlemen, and it was opened to the general public in 1637.

Does this help us understand the workings of Hyde Park? Acts 3 and 4 of the play take place entirely in the park (so that the characters might see the races). It is also in the park that all the lovers begin to find their “true” partners a la Midsummer Night’s Dream. Is this “natural” space in the center of an urban environment the same as a pastoral space in the other plays? Although the park is a place removed from the city, and it at least has some nightingales, the horserace constantly disrupts the calm of the park, and is obviously muddy and dirty [s.d. Enter Venture, covered with mud (520)]. Is Shirley's use of the park a satirical comment on the pastoral in general?

Carol tries to guess the "one boon at parting"; or, Don't make her wear a hairy smock

After exhausting the obvious choices when guessing Fairfield's parting request in II.iv, Carol begins a list of strange favors that are unlikely to match the suitor's wish. Many of these speak to Carol's strong sense of independence (also evinced in her catalog of "the pros of widowhood," mentioned in my other post). Some of them are just plain weird: don't steal her parrot and don't make her imitate a religious ascetic. My question, why the weird stuff? What is the connection between retaining the freedom to see plays and gamble and not having to run through London naked or dress like St. John the Baptist? What do these "list" passages say about Carol's character, especially when considering the play in its entirety?

"A monkey, squirrel and a brace of islands" (not the beginning of a "..walk into a bar" joke)

During her berating of Mistress Bonavent for surrendering her widow-status too soon, Mistress Carol catalogs the various benefits the "supposed" widow currently enjoys. For one thing, Mistress Bonavent will be able to behave in a carefree and independent manner; she "may sing a wanton ditty, and not be chid" or "dance, and go late to bed." Yet Carol places more emphasis on the widow as consumer, as one with purchasing power enabled by both financial and social independence. Mistress Bonavent's ability to own a coach and hire a personal tailor suggests that she has a disposable income; this reminds me of the gallants' purchasing power in many of the plays we have read. In particular, widows and gallants have a knack for purchasing exotic goods. It is also interesting that in many city comedies, gallants pursue the hands of wealthy widows. What does the economic link between gallants and widows mean in terms of social relations in early modern England? What in particular does this connection say about gender and social agency in the period?

Getting Lucky in Hyde Park

How and why are betting, finding "love" and the world of Park connected in this play?

Although we have classed this play as a "tragicomedy," in what ways does this play anticipate the Comedy of Manners that will become so popular in the Restoration (with, for example, Sheridan) and beyond (Austen, Shaw, Wilde, Coward, etc)?

Nervous Ghosts and a Post-It Note God

There is something curious, I think, in the way Shakespeare uses the deus-ex-machina scene with Jupiter in Cymbeline. Whereas conventionally the deus-ex-machina swoops down during the most crucial scene either to rescue a character or at the very least to impose his or her will in a dispute, here we see a god who does not seem to effect any change in his visit to earth: he merely chides the distressed ghosts for thinking he would let one of his most beloved servants suffer unduly, then comforts them, and leaves a sort of encouraging note for Posthumous. How are we to read this moment? Is this just a more narratively elegant version of the deus-ex-machina? Are we to see Jupiter’s hand stretching out from this dream sequence into the revelations and recognitions which follow, or are we to accept these as the “natural” consequences of the characters’ behavior? What are we to make of the god’s brief appearance and then disappearance before matters get resolved, and in a dream sequence, nonetheless?

On a related note, I'm absolutely fascinated by the appearance of Posthumous's ghost family in V.5. As we see Posthumous for the first time being part of a family unit, and being looked after in his sleep by respectable and loving elders, he becomes vulnerable and childlike in a touching way. How does this dreamy (and rhyming!) representation of family life respond to other iterations of the family unit in the piece?

Green Space, Wager's, and Bodies as Evidence

Rather than in the plays we've read up until now, Cymbeline spends almost a third of its time in green space. There, as I think Brian has pointed out, some of the most virtuous although deviant characters live. It is in this green space where the character of princeliness is learned, where true valor is proved, and so on. Is Shakespeare using the notions of green space in a different way than his contemporaries; perhaps less as a temporary readjustment of norms and conventions than as a real and permanent standard against which most if not all virtue can be measured?

Also, how are we to read Posthumous' wagering on Imogen's purity and chastity? Initially, he describes her as beyond material measure, a constant motif in the play (baseness, luster, common garments, gold, diamonds, etc.) yet he reduces her to such materiality by allowing a wager to be placed between her and her honor. Is this significant for a reading of the play and for a characterization of Posthumous?

Lastly, - continuing some of the discussion on the proofs regarding Imogen's supposed adultery - why does Iachimo continue to offer evidence to Posthumous long after the latter has admitted defeat? Is this just to torture Posthumous or is the evidence regarding Imogen's body, and thus all bodies, the end all of judicial and moral investigation and control in the play? I guess I'm asking about the general tactics of the various investigations in Cymbeline and how they might provide us with some reading of the play.

Words by which to Live and Die

Cloten is an abuser of language.  He swears, vows, and makes oaths too often, and is quick to the sword when someone attempts to control his language: "...and then a whoreson jackanapes must take me up for swearing, as if I borrowed mine oaths of him, and might not spend them at my pleasure" (II.i.3-6).  This is just one of the many duals that Cloten attempts and fails.  In scene iii of the same act, he swears that he loves Imogen and is thwarted by his own words yet again as the princess argues for the use of stating feelings instead of swearing.  Finally, it is Cloten's vow to cut off the heads of Belarius and sons that results in his own beheading.  Does this underlying discussion of the misuse of language offer any insight toward a reading of preferment for plain language?  Maybe a better question is, how can we use this play to help us navigate the references to Arbaces's need to control words in "A King and No King"?  What is there to be said for the economy of language in our plays thus far?

While we're discussing economics...the use of economic, and most often debtor-creditor dichotomous, language is prolific in the play.  We get our first taste of the lasting metaphor in the initial conversation between Imogen and Posthumus when they exchange love tokens.  A few lines later, Imogen defends her love of Posthumus by calling him "A man worth any woman: [who] overbuys me / Almost the sum he pays" (I.ii.77-8).  Although the monetary references are used for several characters and situations, they are most abundant when Posthumus is spoken of or speaking.  As the "lesser" in the court of Cymbeline, Posthumus is continually trying to make up for his inherent "lack" of birth right.  Considering the end of the play and his initial success in wooing and wedding the princess, what conclusions can we draw about the purpose of the economic metaphor in relation to Posthumus?  What larger context is being drawn on here?  Can we relate this back to an anxiety (one that is being worked and re-worked throughout the acts) about what makes nobility noble and royalty royal?

Cymbeline

The city of Rome is a crucial setting of this play, but one that seems very rarely represented. It is in Act 1, scene 4 that Posthumus makes the bet with Iachimo in Philario's house. Rome is also the place where Iachimo falsely recounts his conquering of Imogen. While it may be conventional to ascribe Posthumus's failings to his type of character, what effect might the setting of Rome have on his culpability? Can we agree with the editor of Bevington's edition when she says, "Humanity's own wavering heart chooses evil," as she personifies Posthumus as humanity? In other words, what effects can we ascribe to Posthumus's banishment, his place in Rome as opposed to the British court?

The last scene of the play takes place at the British camp after the military encounter with the Roman forces. It may be the amount and variety of characters that make appearances in this scene, but I couldn't help feeling that this was almost a replication of the British court. Does Cymbeline represent an attempt to impose a type of social order on what seems to be an otherwise ungoverned landscape? Though the battlefield is different from the forest, I get a sense that this location allows certain tropes of the tragic-comedy to be enacted, such as Posthumus forgiving Iachimo and Cymbeline reconciling with Belarius and re-promising tribute to Rome. How much does the proxy setting of the court change what we, the audience, might expect to happen in the final scene? Are there uncharacteristic elements of forgiveness or capitulation? Does the battlefield represent the chance for the court to act as if it had a clean slate (independent of our expectations), or is it more action according to popular expectation (doing the things that we wish had been done all along)?

Cymbeline II

The insidious figure of the Queen is counter-poised with the figure of Innogen (sounding roughly like "innocence"). It would seem that there are only really two roles for women to play in this political drama; juxtaposed against one another, is the play illuminating the chauvinism of the political arena or embodying it? Are there other ways that that discourse (and its actors) is gendered?

Cymbeline I

Shakespeare's late play "Cymbeline" incorporates many different genres and has variously been labelled "tragedy," "tragicomedy," and "Romance." What does this experiment reflect about Renaissance ideas of genre and how do those same ideas reflect on the experiment? How have Jacobean playwrights altered the models that the Elizabethans articulated?

Confusion and Discomfort in Cymbeline

1. As proof of his supposed seduction of Imogen, Iachimo cites a mole under Imogen’s breast. Posthumous accepts this as the ultimate proof, and declares that Iachimo has won the bet. Yet Posthumous claims never to have had sex with Imogen: “Me of my lawful pleasure she restrained / And prayed me oft forbearance” (2.5.9-10). In view of the fact that he presumably has not yet seen her naked, and therefore would not know whether she had this mole or not, his acceptance of this “proof” seems strange. Two acts later we witness Imogen completely convinced that the body of the beheaded Cloten is that of Posthumous. The fact that he is missing his head and wearing Posthumous’s clothing makes this mistake understandable, but the dialogue here complicates matters as Imogen claims the following: “I know the shape of’s leg; this is his hand, / His foot Mercurial, his Martial thigh, / The brawns of Hercules” (4.2.309-311). Imogen believes that she knows every part of Posthumous’s body so well that even without his head she can unmistakably identify him. The fact that the body is actually that of the man she most loathes makes this scene extremely bizarre. How does this lack of physical/sexual familiarity affect the characters and our reading of them? How does corporeal confusion operate as both a plot device and as a theme throughout the play?
2. Corporal punishment arises as an issue more than once in this play. First, Belarius suggests that Cloten receive proper burial after his beheading: “Our foe was princely, / And though you took his life as being our foe, / Yet bury him as a prince” (4.2.249-251). Later, the jailer bringing Posthumous to his execution states the following: “I would we were all of one mind, and one mind good. O, there were desolation of jailers and gallows! I speak against my present profit, but my wish hath a preferment in’t” (5.4.203-5). The jailer wishes that no one needed to go to the gallows, even though he would lose his job. While neither Belarius nor the jailer pass judgment on whether or not Cloten and Posthumous deserve to die, they do express a discomfort with the idea of execution. What is the effect of this uneasiness with violent death? How might it extend to other parts of the play? (i.e. the ongoing war, the doctor’s suspicion of the queen and refusal to give her the poison she requests . . .)

Nature vs. Nurture, and Who's Play is This, Anyway?

I've been thinking about the ways in which the play offers commentary on the nature versus nurture issue, specifically related to the way that Guiderius and Arvinagus function in the play. Are we to believe Belarius and his repeated remarks about G. & A.'s emergent princely natures ("The time seems long, their blood thinks scorn / Till it fly out and show them princes born") ? This seems to support the accepted notion of royal lineage and the inborn divinity of kings. Furthermore, Belarius scorns the "art of the court," seeming to nearly vaunt the "honest freedom" he has lived in since his banishment. Is this just Belarius' bitterness coming out, or does he function to make a more explicit statement about the role of nature versus nurture in kingship? Is he saying the natural divinity (?goodness) of kings is corrupted by the court? It occurs to me that Cymbeline's behavior may support such an opinion. That leads me to my next question, which may seem petty or just obtuse on my part - but why is this play called Cymbeline? Is it because Cymbeline functions as an agent for the three plots (to which Innogen is more central)? His agency appears to be predicated on his poor judgment: his treatment of Innogen at her marriage to Posthumus and the latter's banishment (no doubt under the manipulation of the queen and Cloten); his willingness to engage in war with Rome (also a result of the queen's and Cloten's wishes); and finally his banishment of Belarius (apparently upon the word of "two villians"). Not to mention, unlike his heroic sons who inspire the Britons to fight, Cymbeline is described in retreat (I hear Monty Python, "Run away...run away...). Anyway, if Cymbeline is such a lousy king, why does he get the title (of the play, that is)? And in what way does this relate to my earlier question about the nature versus nurture issue?

"Render to me some corporal sign"--unless, of course, you are a doctor

In contrast to many of the plays we’ve seen in class, Cymbeline features characters who accept “truth” based on physical evidence (authentic or, in Iachimo’s case, crafted) rather than mere hearsay. In 5.4.364-7, Cymbeline fully accepts that his sons have returned due to the presence of a mole on Guiderius’s neck; Posthumous, in 2.4, remains convinced of Innogen’s loyalty until Iachimo presents the bracelet from her arm (Posthumous: “…’tis true – I am sure / She would not lose it.” 123-4). Even Jupiter’s message of truth comes in written form on a tablet. This value on “hard evidence” is reinforced by Innogen’s words of wisdom in 4.2.34: “Experience, O, thou disprov’st report!” With this emphasis in mind, I was shocked to see how quickly and easily Cymbeline (and others) took the doctor’s words for truth in 5.4. Cornelius arrives with a remarkable report of the Queen’s hidden feelings about everyone and everything—Cymbeline immediately accepts each revelation and asks for more. This is not the first presentation of Cornelius as all-knowing; he understands the Queen’s true nature as early as 1.5, and because of this knowledge, he is ultimately responsible for preventing Innogen’s death through poison. Why does Cornelius—a particularly marginal character in terms of stage appearance—hold so much power? What can we understand about sources of knowledge and truth in the play?

Nationalism and Male Desire in Cymbeline

Britain vs. Italy

Issues of British nationalism seem to be at the heart of the play, but I’m unsure what to make of the characters and their reactions to Rome. Both Posthumus and Innogen “defect” to the Romans when they leave Britain, even though Innogen is a member of the British royal family. In 3.1, Cymbeline and the Queen and Cloten meet with the Romans who demand tribute of 3,000 pounds per year because the last king paid it to Caesar. But each nation has a new king now, and it seems exploitive. Interestingly, the two most villainous characters offer the most fervent accounts of national pride. Cloten wants to refuse paying on the seemingly logical grounds that “our kingdom is stronger than it was…and there is no more such Caesars” (3.1.35-6). In 3.5, Cymbeline refused the tribute because “our subjects, sir, / will not endure this yoke, and for ourself / To show less sovereignty than they must needs / appear unkinglike” (4-7). When the Romans invade, Cymbeline plainly is at a loss for what to do, and wishes he had “the counsel of my son and queen! / I am amazed with matter” (4.4.27-8). Arviragus and Guiderius, who are the rightful princes, seem eager to engage the Italians and show great bravery…further proof of their inherent royal-ness.

Yet after the Britons win the battle, Cymbeline states that “although we (Britain) the victor, we submit to Caesar / and to the Roman empire, promising / to pay our wonted tribute, from the which / We were dissuaded by our wicked queen” (5.6.460-3). Why would he decide to pay the Roman tribute if he has won the battle? Is this just another (national or cultural) unification in the end of the tragicomedy? Is Cymbeline a weak king, allowing his Queen to influence national decisions that are against his presumably better judgment? Was it really the Queen who told him to resist payment, and was that necessarily an evil act, especially since Britain won the battle?

Male Sexual Desire in Cymbeline

Although a villain, the arrogant, rude, and somewhat dull-witted Cloten initially provides much of the comedy in Cymbeline. His early scenes are quite funny as he brags about his prowess to his flatterers (all the while with some excellent asides from what may be my favorite character in the play, the “Second Lord”). His attempts at wooing Innogen are likewise ridiculous and quite funny. He reminded me somewhat of Bergetto in ‘Tis Pity at first, but by 3.5 he is planning to rape and beat Innogen. It seems that he becomes more violent as the play progresses, using his unsatisfied desire for Innogen explode into rage, for which he is punished. Yet is not Posthumus also guilty of the exact same emotions? When Giacomo offers proof of her infidelity, his rage is equally extreme, and he orders her put to death (his character seemed like a less noble Othello to me). And Giacomo himself violates Innogen by creeping into her chamber while she sleeps.

It seems that these three men are solely motivated and/or consumed by their desire for Innogen, which leads them to commit desperate or devious acts. How does this male sexual desire function in the play? Is it dangerous?

Life in the mountains - "a cell of ignorance"?

Does the play make a clear statement on the distinction between pastoral and courtly life? We see similar statements (but from opposite perspectives) from Innogen and from Cymbeline’s two stolen sons on the ignorance that results from isolation in one of these spheres. In 3.3, Arviragus complains that through a secluded life of “bondage” in the mountains, he and his brother are “beastly,” and “have seen nothing” (33-43). Innogen later notes her own blindness to life and experience outside the court; after interacting with Guiderius and Arviragus, her “experience…disprov’st report” that “all’s savage but at court” (4.2.33-34). The goodness Innogen values in the pastoral world, though, is centered on the kindness of her brothers, and the reader knows them to be of royal blood. The only character who seems to praise the “quiet life” for its own sake is Belarius—a banished kidnapper. These points clearly undermine the value of the pastoral in the play, but is the view a complete rejection?

How is the fragile separation between reality and perception within Cymbeline enacted on and through physical bodies? How do bodies act both as reliable markers of "truth" and sites over/through which one can enact deception?

What function does Philarmonus serve within the play? Especially in the final scene -- wherein everyone seems to have a piece of the narrative puzzle to contribute -- what effect does a soothsayer tying all the strands together have?

Thanks Jupiter, you're the greatest!

In last class the comment arose of how people in pastoral scenes should never be trusted. Why was Shakespeare clearly making these the most kind and judicial group of people? Belarius was sent off wrongly, and yes he did kidnap the children wrongly (obviously) and had bad intentions for them. But, when you feel that they will follow through and commit an injustice, they act in a good manner and are rewarded for it. Does the fact that Belarius is forgiven show him using the children once again for his benefit, or does it show him as a kind, just person who is incapable of doing bad? Does the fact that the kids were of royal decent make a difference here?

Two more short questions: why the bells and whistles and songs? The play (and I liked this one) seemed like a giant alarm clock.

And finally, why the grand decent of Jupiter? I seriously laughed out loud when this scene came up--would the 17th century crowd have done the same?

Is Shakespeare kidding?

As we read last week (in our handout), John Fletcher defined tragicomedy thus: "it wants deaths, which is inough to make it no tragedie, yet brings some neere it, which is inough to make it no comedie." If we are to take Fletcher's definition of tragicomedy as accurate, how can we classify this play as a tragicomedy since both the Queen, Cloten and presuably several soldiers die (the latter all for naught since Cymbeline, like Arbaces, undermines the original reason for war and agrees to pay the tribute)? Consider the outrageous things that happen in this play: Guiderius/Polydore walks onstage with a actual severed head; a literal deus ex machina occurs; the female lead slathers herself in blood for seemingly no plot advancement; the reveal at the end is clumsy at best (the height of which is Cornelius' last minute rememberance of important information from the Queen's deathbed confession, expressed "O gods! / I left out one thing which the Queen confessed" - 5.6.243-4). Shakespeare seems, to me at least, to be taking these conventions to their ludicrous extreme. Might we then classify this play as something more like parody (of revenge tragedy, for example) in which case it belongs squarely in comedy (despite the deaths of the aforementioned characters who, as John Wayne might have said, needed killin' anyway)?

There are no women onstage at the end of this play. (Technically, Innogen is a woman, but she is still dressed as a boy.) Yet the men in this play have proved vacillating, prone to passion, impetuous, bloody. Should we feel good about England's future?

Poly-Olbion

Poly-Olbion is a topographical poem describing Engand and Wales, written by Michael Drayton in 1612 but started at least by 1598. "Poly-Olbion" means "England wich is blessed in many ways," or "England's Blessed Variety."

"Wherein I am false I am honest: not true, to be true" (IV.3.42)

In certain situations in Cymbeline, lying seems justified. Innogen's lie to cover up the identity of who she believes is the dead Posthumous in IV.2 and Pisanio's continued deception to carry out his "right" duty are two specific examples. However, lying and deception are also villified, as is the case with the Queen's behavior throughout the play. We do know, however, that honesty is valued by several characters, including Posthumous and Cloten. Under what circumstances is it OK to lie in this play? Perhaps taking into consideration the chastity test to which Nate has referred, what constitutes honesty in this play? Is it rewarded, punished, or perhaps both?

"With that suit upon my back will I ravish her" (III.5.135-6)

As is laid out in III.5, Cloten's revenge for his unrequited love and the perceived false character of Innogen is to force her to witness her husband's murder and then rape her while wearing her husband's clothes, which she once claimed to hold in higher regard than Cloten himself. In donning Posthumous's base clothes, Cloten transgresses the social boundaries between court and country, enacting, in an odd way, a sort of revenge that includes Innogen's own transgression of social boundaries in her marriage to Posthumous in the first place. Moving beyond the obvious use of Posthumous's clothes to make the rape more emotionally painful for the victim, how can we understand this intentioned rape since it is to be done in disguise? Is there something more threatening in this proposed act than the violation of Innogen's body? How does the fact that hers is a royal body come into play?

By Jove?

I would like to begin by addressing the trope that I will refer to as the 'Chastity Test.' In other words, a scheme or plot that involves tricking a woman into revealing her true character. This trope seems to run through a number of Jacobean plays (The Changeling, The Widow's Tears, obviously Cymbeline, and even a bit in Philaster), but why is it so predominant in this period? Is it something we should be associating with the rise of Tragicomedy? Is Cymbeline unique in the way that a confederate (in this case Giacomo) is used to test the woman's (Innogen's) honesty and then reports falsely to the husband (Posthumus)?

I would also like to ask about the way that the 'deus ex machina' is dealt with in Cymeline. When Jupiter descends his entrance is preempted by the entrance of the dead ancestors of Posthumus. Is this meant to tap into the Roman cultural practice of ancestor worship? Why is that connected, in this case with an obvious reference to the Ancient Greek practice of 'deus ex machina'? Is Shakespeare mixing his classical metaphors or does 'deus ex machina' appear in Roman drama? Is Shakespeare taking a shot at Aristotle, who attacked the use of 'deus ex machina' in his Poetics?

A Royal Nature and The Unknowable Woman

In Shakespeare’s “Cymbeline,” Belarius repeatedly comments on his ‘adopted’ sons’ royal bearing. Even though they were not raised at court, the nobility of the boys shines through their attitudes and actions. For example, Belarius notes “Tis wonder that an invisible instinct should frame them to royalty unlearned, honor untaught, civility not seen from other, valor that wildly grows in them but yields a crop as if it had been sowed” (4.2 225-229). Belarius upholds the concept of nature over nurture – royal blood runs in the brother’s veins, and it makes them act as princes. It seems that Shakespeare is enforcing a ‘natural’ hierarchy amongst the populace. This contrasts with a scene from “The Alchemist” where Mammon comments on Dol’s nobility when she is wearing rich clothing and pretending to be of a higher class. Unlike Shakespeare’s treatment of the brothers, this scene seems subversive to the social order. Does Shakespeare’s writing reinforce class and governmental hierarchies? Why would he want to reinforce class and nobility in “Cymbeline?” Are there other readings of Shakespeare’s brothers that would make them seem more subversive?

When Cymbeline learns of the queen’s misdeeds, he asks an important question: “Who is ‘t can read a woman?” (5.5 58). This question reflects much anxiety over the shifting roles of women and women’s potential to gain and exert power. The king’s sentiments also support the idea that women are duplicitous and finally unknowable. How does this scene reinforce stereotypes and prejudices against women at the time? Is there also power in ‘the unknowable,’ a power that women might use to gain more control in life? And, are powerful women like the queen inherently corrupters and schemers?

"go so[x]" -3.2.70

Where does tragicomedy derive its power? We have seen several plays where characters die and come back to life, where characters fall from grace and are inexplicably redeemed. Does tragicomedy work because of scenes like Imogen popping back up after Guiderius and Arvigaus's funeral song? Or is it a spirit better captured in the language? I'm thinking of Lucius's line at the end of 4.2, and the sentiment it essentializes: "Some falls are means the happier to arise" (406). Or even better, Pisanio's "Fortune brings in some boats that are not steered" (4.3.46). What is tragicomedy's backbone? What makes it work? The spectacle or the spoken?

How can representations of the body--as well as the disembodied, in the case of Cloten--inform our reading of political life in Cymbeline? In 5.5, Cymbeline refers to Belarius, Guiderius, and Arviragus as the "liver, heart, and brain of Britain" (14). The king frames his response to reports of the Queen's death in bodily terms; he vows that he will not fault his eyes, ears, or heart (63-6). Guiderius tests the boundaries of political action when he decapitates Cloten, decrying him as an "arrogant piece of flesh" (4.2.149). Where does body end and Body Politic begin? How does Shakespeare render political life as reliant upon bodily life and bodily needs? Does bodily life restrict or enable the movement and power of political agents?

Cymbeline's Model of Kingship

There are a couple points in the play at which Cymbeline seems to avoid matters of state in order to focus on those of the family (III.v.27-30; IV.iii.27-35); in these passages, the condition and advice of his daughter and queen outweigh the importance of Britain's deteriorating relationship with Rome. We later find out that Cymbeline took bad advice from his wife when he refused to pay tribute to Rome. At the end of the play, Cymbeline comes very close to punishing Belarius, Guiderius, and Lucius, but eventually frees everyone (or at least invites everyone to be merry, in the case of Lucius). Belarius complains that Cymbeline didn't have much of a reason to banish him. Finally, is Cymbeline's decision to remain subordinate to Rome a good one for his land? Considering all of these aspects, are we to consider Cymbeline a good king? His power is hardly ever critiqued, but he seems as fickle as Arbaces in the majority of A King and No King. How does Shakespeare handle kingship differently in this play in comparison to Beaumont and Fletcher in Philaster and A King and No King?

Dismemberment, Tapestries, Diana, and Imogen

During Giacomo's description of Imogen's chamber, he mentions the "chimney-piece [of] Chaste Dian bathing." On one level, this image mirrors Imogen's chastity. Yet one must remember that the view of "Chaste Dian bathing" is the substance of the transgression that results in Actaeon's transformation and grisly death in Ovid's Metamorphoses. So the picture could also signify the defilement of chastity. If this is the case, then Imogen figuring herself as a tapestry that must be "ripped" (if she indeed is false) coincides with Actaeon being torn apart by his own hounds. Posthumus contributes to the dismemberment imagery by vowing to "tear her [Imogen] limb-meal." Since the textual evidence supports a multivalent interpretation of the Diana picture in Imogen's chamber, does a similar indeterminacy surround the Antony and Cleopatra tapestry? How are we to read this tapestry?

With his own sword... I have ta'en / His head from him

How are we meant to classify Cymbeline? (This question assumes something that I think we all -- with apologies to Philip Sidney -- now have difficulty accepting: that plays can be sturdily classified at all.) In the folio of 1623 (there is no earlier quarto text), Heminges and Condell group the play with the tragedies and it is called, in fact, The Tragedy of Cymbeline (it has the privilege of ending the collection, immediately following that other knee-slapper Antony and Cleopatra) -- but it lacks the kind of catastrophe all the other tragedies have (revelations and reversals, here, lead to marriage and political unity, not to death and the collapse of the state). Modern editors try to identify the genre as "romance", or "tragicomedy", grouping it with Pericles, The Tempest, and The Winter's Tale, all from the end of Shakespeare's career. But if we take Fletcher's definition of tragicomedy -- that "it wants [lacks] deaths" -- Shakespeare's play seems, from the instant Guiderius enters proudly displaying Cloten's severed head, to defy that generic decorum as well. Cloten -- like, in The Winter's Tale, the famously unfortunate Antigonus (food for bears, to paraphrase Prince Hal) -- is the blood sacrifice that seems to problematize the question of genre. Bevington suggests there is a hybridity to the world of Shakespeare's late plays that is somehow a nostalgic retrospective on his preceding career: "In his late tragicomic romances, Shakespeare is revisiting the imaginary landscape of his earlier romantic comedies, while still preoccupied with the emotional and spiritual crises of his tragedies." (Shakespeare; Blackwell, 2002; p.202)

I think, actually, that now, looking back over what I've just written (and what Bevington states rather plainly), I would like to rephrase my question and play the devil's advocate: Instead of how are we meant to classify the play?, I feel that it may be more useful to first ask Why are we meant to classify the play? Did Shakespeare think and write generically? If so, does this process help us imagine ourselves closer to the taboo authorial intention? And, if that's true, are we really succeeding at that? If not, are we merely imposing a critical structure in an attempt to, like Sidney, control the work in the name of decorum? Does the act of classification -- from Heminges and Condell's categorical arrangement of the 1623 folio to the present day -- in some way deny the innovative power of the writer, insert the play into a formulaic system of dramatization, and, as Hamlet warns, pluck out the heart of his mystery? Is the decapitation of Cloten (and the consumption of Antigonus) Shakespeare throwing down the gauntlet before tragicomedy? Has he, with its own sword, taken the genre's very head?

Describing a "New" relationship

In Act 2, scene v, Posthumus redefines the notion of family and commitment. He cries, "We are bastards all," (2) and lists the faults of women. According to this soliloquy, then, no one has any real familial relations and partnerships are bound to fail. As such, is this play about the boundaries of family and kin being left too vague. The Queen dies at the end because she violated the "rules" of family and confessed, feeling bound to do so by those "rules." Consequently, where are the boundaries of family in the play?

Frontispiece from "A King and No King," 1619

Another picture! Here's the image from the first printed edition of the play. I think there may be some symbolism involved.

I think it's interesting in relation to the ideas of kingship as divine that occur in the play. The image also suggests two possible readings: is God crowning him or removing the crown? For this play, I'd wager God is removing the crown from the king (Arbaces), but I wonder if the image was used for anything else.

Men and wars

What I found most interesting in A King and No King was the use of battles to show characteristics. Bessus is said to have been beaten so badly through life that he had "at least 300 daggers set in's head" in Act V. But, while this is going on, the assumed king, Arbaces, was merely "saved from the arrows of malice and ambition..." by Gobrias in Act V. In fact, Bessus seems to arm himself with arrows of malice and ambition, and uses them to avoid true battles. Which is a more desired quality through the play?

Capitalism and Masculinity in "A King and No King;" Nature

I find myself thinking about IV.3. in "A King and No King," the scene in which Bessius consults with the two laughably pedantic sword-men about the extent of the injuries he's suffered at the hands of his enemies. That this interaction serves to emphasize Bessius' cowardice and mock the sorts of specious arguments which could justify his behavior and profess him a "valiant man" seems clear. I wonder, however, to what extent we can further see the presence of these characters as a criticism of a sort of burgeoning commercialization of honor and/or manhood. Does their presence in the text, though comical, point to an underlying anxiety about the position of masculine honor in the city's growing capitalist economy?

In reading "Philaster," I was struck by the action in Act IV moving so very briefly into the forest. This rural space seems far from any idealized "green world" that allows for identity play or revelation; how, then, does the forest function in the piece? How does it compare to the environment of the palace and the city?

Rumor and Inconstancy in Philaster and A King and No King

In Philaster, both Pharamond and Arethusa are accused of having affairs—these rumors elicit strikingly different responses from the king, Dion, and others. Upon hearing report (from his own daughter) that Pharamond plans to sleep with Megra, the king warns Arethusa, “Look your intelligence be true,” continues to qualify the knowledge with the phrase “if it be true,” and sets out to find proof of the accusation. Dion and Cleremont follow suit. The king is even so cautious as to inspect Megra’s lodging first, as “if she be there, [they should] not need to make a vain discovery of [their] suspicion” (II.iv). The news of Arethusa’s supposed affair, on the other hand, is met with Cleremont’s affirmation that “doubtless, ‘tis true,” and Dion’s willingness to swear he saw it in order to make Philaster believe him (III.i). The king immediately confronts Arethusa and, since she does admit to having a waiting-boy, he accepts the claim that the boy has done to Arethusa “that good service / Shames me to speak of” (III.ii). Why do these men more willingly accept accusations against Arethusa, the princess, than those against the prince of a foreign land? Is this a gendered reaction? How is this reaction situated in a play that seems to invert typical gender representations by featuring inconstant men (Pharamond, Philaster) and loyal women (Arethusa)?


In A King and No King, characters refer to inconstancy and yielding to one’s passions by using metaphors of weather—one is likened to natural phenomena such as the wind or a raging sea (Spaconia notably reproaches Tigranes for his “faith as firm as raging overflows, / That no bank can command…The wind is fixed to thee” (IV.ii). It is interesting that Arbaces constantly likens his kingly power and control to the same elements (he claims his “word / Sweeps like a wind” in III.i and speaks of his servant “whom [his] breath / Might blow about the world” in III.iii). Is the use of wind and weather to symbolize both control (the king’s power) and the lack of resistance to a controlling force (which one should, in fact, resist) in sexual disloyalty to be seen as a challenge to the authority of the king/monarch’s word?

Rumors and Comic Truth in Beaumont and Fletcher

"'Tis past speech, she lives dishonestly"

Arethusa's virtue and reputation are subjected to ruthless gossip and conjecture in Philaster. The characters seem to take her dishonesty with her "boy" Bellario as truth based on the debauched Megra's verbal accusations, and yet they refuse to believe hereforto virtuous Arethusa's denials. In III.i.28, Cleremont declares that "'tis past speech itself, she lives dishonestly," implying that the scandal stretches beyond words into truth in imagined action. He later participates in a plot to ensure that the king beleieves the accusation based on an entirely constructed witnessed scene of debauchery. The validity of the spoken word - especially the words of women - is both vehemently adhered to and vehemently denied in different instances in the play. I wonder what we can make of the role of the verbal nature of sexual scandal, particularly in terms of the the way it upholds gender stereotypes of women as untrustworthy, yet somehow the carriers of secrets. There also seems to be an important connection between the spoken word and a perceived action - real or constructed - that must verify it.

" I told you once she was not your sister: I, and she lookt nothing like you"

In King and No King, Bessus provides much of the comic relief and is rendered ridiculous by his accidental bravery in battle and following impending swordfights. However, though he is catering to Arbaces's strange mood swing to deny his sister, Bessus is the character who acknowledges that the once-thought sister and brother are actually not related. True to form, he does not miss the opportunity to remind Arbaces of this at the end of the play when the convoluted plot is uncovered, saying " I told you once she was not your sister: I, and she lookt nothing like you." What does it say that the fool of this play has a sort of fore-knowledge that the other characters don't? The wise fool in this period is certainly not unique to this play, but I think Bessus's accidental knowledge (and, perhaps his accidental bravery?) does something that calls attention to the convoluted nature of the court in King and No King. Can we connect this notion to the tragicomedy genre in some way?

Philaster

The Woodmen, the Captain, and the Citizens exist on the margins of this play, often functioning as external foils in plot contrivances. What can be said about their social function and can they be taken seriously as indicators toward contemporary ideas of class or mass culture?

Expressing the Self

In "A King and No King," letter-writing is crucial: Arbaces claims that letters ignited his passion and Panthea tries to calm him through letters. In another scene, Arbaces alludes to incest, but it is only when it is directly "uttered" that he has a physical/emotional reaction to the idea. How does writing/utterance function in this play?

Natural Setting in "Philaster"

Early in scene II, Philaster's monologue equates nature with virtue and society with corruption: "that I had been nourish'd in these woods / ... and not known / the right of crowns nor the dissembling trains of women's looks; ... then had taken me some mountain-girl, ... , chaste as the harden'd rocks." With the idea of nature = virtue/chastity, society = corruption in mind, how does the forest setting of Act IV, scenes II, III and IV function?

To The Letter

The epistolary form of communication is both esteemed and subversive in A King and No King. For the reader, letters can instigate sudden passions as well as stir emotions slowly over time. However the reaction, the sender is responsible for the behavioral response, no matter if it betrays other underwritten laws. Words on paper, more so than those spoken, have a tacit request that the reader is required to perform and “with haste.” No wonder that they are viewed with such force, they are proof:

Y'are very welcome, you have got a letter to put you to me, that
has power enough to place mine enemy here; then much more you
that are so far from being so to me that you ne're saw me. (Act II, sc. I)

And, letters betray the evidence behind which all else is held in secret:

"Thou knowst the evils thou hast done to me; dost thou remember
all those witching letters thou sent'st unto me to Armenia,
fill'd with the praise of my beloved Sister, where thou extol'st
her beauty, what had I do with that? what could her beauty be to me?
and thou didst write how well she lov'd me, dost thou remember this?
so that I doted something before I saw her. " (Act V, sc. IV)

What is the power of words delivered to our hands, aimed to our eyes rather than our ears?

my father’s old fox

In Act. III, sc. III, The Country Fellow, another citizen in Philaster, is walking in the forest. He is both admired as honest and judicious as well as ridiculed for his groupie tastes. Carrying his sword, he tries to hunt down a view of the king and instead finds much to criticize; among other complaints, “These kings had need of good brains; this whooping is able to put a mean man out of his wits.” As another representative of more common stock, he clearly has more conscience than those who rule and achieves success as a kind of mini-hero. Yet to keep a kind of balanced mockery, this fellow is, nonetheless, concerned that his sisters won’t laugh at him when he returns home. What do we make of the way average characters appear against those of more noble stock?

The Value of Fidelity

I've been thinking about the ways in which fidelity is maintained and broken in both this week's plays and the others we have read. In Philaster, Arethusa struggles to make herself believed, as does Bellario - both essentially insisting on their fidelity. In A King and No King we have Tigranes falling in love with Panthea but then rededicating himself to Spaconia. Is there a consistent view of fidelity and its value that is being portrayed here? Is there a difference in value between sexual fidelity (never physically being with another) and "romantic" fidelity ("it didn't mean anything - I don't love her"). Obviously, fidelity is a prominent plot device in the comedies as well - is it the genre that determines the acceptability of sexual/romantic betrayal - the source of humor in comedies and the source of, well, tragedy in tragedies? If so, what are we to make of it in tragicomedy?

The other issue, closely tied with this, that I was wondering about in Philaster is the idea of credibility. As I mentioned above, Arethusa and Bellario make such impassioned pleas about their innocence, and it struck me as I was reading what an intense case of "he said, she said" this would be if Philaster ever came right out and explained how he knew what he thought he knew (or did I miss that flipping that small print upside down and back over and over?). What are we to make of the way in which integrity is questioned in this play and the ways it isn't (there are no suggestions of veiled inspections by woman jurors)?

Parallel Characters in Philaster and A King and No King

Bessus and Arbaces

Nate brought up the idea of the “divine right of kings” and I was thinking more about this idea of essential nature as it is represented in A King and No King. Is there a parallel between Bessus and Arbaces, considering they both deal with conflicts of essential selfhood? Both men seem to boast and brag about their exploits and both men have some sort of exaggerated or glorified place in society that we find is not correct. In Act 3 scene 2, we find that Bessus has been challenged to a great number of duels upon returning from Armenia. Bacurius has a quarrel with him based on the fact that Bessus, who is essentially a coward, is now hailed as a returning hero. Bessus admits and relishes in his cowardice, stating that “a base spirit has this vantage of a brave one; it keeps always at a stay, nothing brings it down, not beating” (p. 325). The conflict arises from Bessus’ “true nature” as a coward and his newly formulated reputation for heroism. Is this like Arbaces, who occupies the role of triumphant king but (as we later find out) is not a king and therefore courageousness is not in his essential nature? Are Arbaces and Bessus the tragic and comic versions of the same sort of character, and what do we make of how each character ends up in the play?

Megra and Arethusa

I’m interested in the character of Megra as she functions in Philaster. She embodies the role of a whorish lady of the court, and in the very first scene Dion says that she would “lie with a whole army…she loves to try the several constitutions of men’s bodies” (p. 162). In Act 2 scene 2, she and Pharamond arrange a rendezvous and Megra is eager to meet with him—and as Galatea says of their plans, “Your prince, brave Pharamond, was so hot on’t!” (p. 170). When Megra is caught with Pharamond, she is called “a troubled sea of lust…ripe mine of all diseases” (p. 173).

Megra is a deceitful character, lying about Arethusa’s affair with Bellario, and yet she is unapologetic for her actions. Of her sexual desire, she says that she is “not the first / That nature taught to seek a fellow forth; / Can shame remain perpetually in me, / And not in others?” (p. 192). Pharamond, who is also guilty of lust, is allowed return to Spain, and yet Megra “is seized” (p. 193) and is forced out of her life at court. I’m not sure I understand how she functions in the play. Is she a comic / satirical figure—a lusty court lady who lives to sleep with many men? Does the act of purging her from court offer a satisfying conclusion to the play? Are her machinations that different from Arethusa’s in Act 2 scenes 3 and 4, when Arethusa ensures that the King find out about Megra’s meeting with Pharamond?

Kings who don't know the rules...

The plays for this week offer two kings who obviously haven't read the "how to be a good king" book.  Arbaces is a vain-glorious ruler who's praise for his soldiers generally goes something like this: "I grant, you were my instruments, and did / As I commanded you; but 'twas this arm / Mov'd you like wheels; it mov'd you as it pleas'd" (I.i).  Not only does he deny them their earned gratitude for service, but he also desires them to be flatterers to him, not good counselors.  These actions are detrimental because they upset the delicate "gift cycle" balance in the relationship between king and servant (this demands service, acknowledgment by words, titles, and gifts, and acceptance of advise from those most dutiful).  Before we reach the end of the play, it is apparent that Arbaces cannot be a "true" king because he is unfamiliar with the proper way to rule.  Can any man be taught to rule in the "correct" manner?  Can this play be read in support of the rule of divine right?  If so, why is this important to stress at this period in English history?  (Is there a reading here between "King and No King" and "Tamburlaine"?)

The King in "Philaster" also struggles to fully control his role.  From the beginning, we are aware that he has obtained his reign through dubious means and that his people have more confidence and love for Philaster.  Our opinion of the King's ruling capabilities is further damaged when he acquiesces to Megra's blackmail and later to Arethusa's plea for the lives of Philaster and Bellario.  Here is a king who commands things that are not "possible and honest" and are therefore impossible to perform (IV.iii).  Why are we once again presented with a king who cannot fulfill his role; who is essentially deficient in all kingly qualities?  Is this intended to be a comic trope?  Or are we being presented with a pessimistic view of what monarchies have become since the days of "true" kings and knights and wars?  How can we connect this with references to "noble" blood and actions throughout the play?  Finally, are we presented with a better option for king in Philaster by the end of the play?

What is the difference between how legitimate authorities are theoretically constructed and how they actually play out within Philaster? The king's final advice, for example, is for princes to "rule the passions of their blood," and within the play characters speak about legitimate authority as ideally held by calm, rational men in control of themselves and their surroundings. Yet, the actual character representations of royalty within the play are all prone to passionate effusion -- not to mention disturbingly quick to turn that passion towards extreme violence, especially towards the objects/subjects of their affection. What is the significance of this difference?

How, besides in terms of lineage, is Arbaces revealed to be both a king and no king -- and does the issue of incest (whether it be real or presumed) inform that dual position? What does it mean, for example, when the political and symbolic head of a social group is no longer capable of embodying coherent social order? What happens within the world of the play when the king no longer wants to follow the rules?

Philaster
What are we to make of the strange threesome of Bellario / Euphrasia, Arethusa and Philaster, especially given the gender switch that happens at the end? I'm tempted to say this is some sort of commentary on Platonic friendship being the best basis for marriage or male - female relationships in general, were it not for 1) the fact that Arethusa and Philaster are technically not a "Platonic" relationship (although they seem to trend that way) and 2) Philaster's passing comment about Euphrasia's chosen celibacy: "I grieve such virtue should be laid in earth / Without an heir" (5.5.final page) Does he intend to fix that problem himself? That's it; I'm just wondering.

A King and No King
At the end of the play, Arbaces is beside himself with joy to discover that he is no king and can therefore marry Panthea. Presumably, the audience is supposed to be overjoyed as well since he has shown himself to be so vacillating and, at times, unhinged, and now we all know why: he's not really a king by nature. Yet in marrying Panthea, he becomes the king again (if conventional marriage rules apply among royalty). Are we supposed to feel uneasy about his kingship to come?

"A King and No King"

Act II, scene II shows interactions between commoners -- the shopmen, a woman, Philip and two Citizens' Wives -- immediately before Arbaces' return to the city. What purpose does this scene serve within the greater context of the play? It seems tangential and doesn't seem to advance the plot -- is such a scene characteristic of the tragicomedy genre, and therefore serves a particular function?

My large coarse issue!

Hopefully this will be neither large nor coarse.

A King, and No King

Taking my cue from last week's discussion regarding the unstable subject-positions of women in Renaissance drama, I started thinking about the way this idea seems to work with the male characters in this play. In IV.ii.pg. 329, Spaconia says that Tigranes is "More unconstant / Than all ill women ever were together." Like him, Arabaces often speaks kindly to Panthea but then is immediately quite harsh with her. Similarly, Arabaces promises not to treat Tigranes like his prisoner, but ends up putting Tigranes in jail anyway. Both these men speak "With equal conviction from incompatible subject-positions" (Belsey). Do the problems in the play, especially those that complicate ideas of kingship and the proper treatment of prisoners, arise because of the male characters' eschewing of stable subject-positions? Is the unconstant male a common figure in Tragicomedy?

Philaster

This plays seems more comic and less tragic, even with all the wounding going on (is anyone else surprised by how many people are stabbed or wounded or offer to stab themselves, yet still no one dies?). With this in mind, I began thinking about the political and economic reasons behind some of the characters' desires. The two people that appear to end the play with the least advantage are Pharamond and Bellario. Can this be because their desires are, at heart, carnal rather than economic or political? Pharamond loses the chance to join politically Sicily and Calabria as well as Arethusa's hand in marriage. The King, ever true to his first promise, says "'Twas your faults that lost you her, / And not my purpos'd will" (V.v.pg. 194). Maritally and politically, Pharamond appears to have lost out because he was caught sleeping with Megra. In the same speech, the King sends Bellario away from the court, "But leave the court; / This is no place for such." This, too, appears to result from her desire to be close to Philaster, even though she recognizes that they cannot be married. Thus, can we ascribe Pharamond and Bellario's fate to their carnal desires? Is erotic desire worse than political or economic desire? Or are they too hard to separate most often?

Lacking Logic

1. What is the point of keeping Arbaces and Panthea so long in ignorance of their true identities? Gobrias admits that he has encouraged Arbaces to fall in love with Panthea even before telling him that she is not his sister: “I sought to kindle / Some sparks of love in you to fair Panthea, / That she might get part of her right again” (5.4.). The horror expressed by Mardonius regarding incestuous behavior reveals that incest is not at all acceptable in the court. Thus Gobrias’s actions present a moral dilemma for the characters that very nearly results in tragic results. Why does an otherwise noble character take such questionable steps towards restoring Panthea’s birthright?
2. In Act 3, Scene 1 of “Philaster,” Bellario asks “Oh, what boy is he / Can be content to live to be a man, / That sees the best of men thus passionate, / Thus without reason?” The volatile and illogical temperament to which she refers is prevalent in men throughout the play and can be seen not only in Philaster but also in the king, the townspeople, and in Philaster’s loyal followers. Even plots with good intent are illogical and misguided, and judgments are made and changed quickly and erratically. The women on the other hand are constant. Arethusa and Bellario are loyal and virtuous, Galatea soundly resists Pharamond’s advances, and even Megra remains consistent in her vice and viciousness. How does this inversion of the stereotypical views on male and female behavior work in this play? What are we supposed to make of this very obvious difference between the male and female characters?

Beaumont and Fletcher

I must apologize. I couldn't resist writing questions that dealt with both plays.

I wanted to start out by asking a general question that I would like to discuss: why Spain? Both A King and No King and Philaster feature an unlikable Spainish (Iberian in one case) Prince, Arbace and Pharamond respectively. Are these negative portrayals of Spainish nobility in line with other attacks on the Spainish in the period? Is A King and No King questioning the legitimacy of the Spainish King? Were Spainards seen by the English in the period as the sort of womanizers that we see in the portrayal Pharamond in Philaster? What is the state England's political relationship with Spain when these plays are being written?

What is Beaumont and Fletcher's stance on kingship? Both of these plays put an extrordinary empahsis on who is a "rightful" monarch and who is not. This empahasis is so extreme that Philaster, who is not king, acts like a king but Arbace, who is king but is not "rightfully" king (though he is not aware of this fact at first), does not act like a king. What does is mean to act like a king? Are Beaumont and Fletcher trying to reinforce the idea of 'the divine right of kings'? Is this a critique of the current English monarch? Do they see James as not 'rightful'?

Tragi-Comedy

Philaster and the Role of Nonfatal Woundings

To what extent is tragi-comedy reliant upon misinformation, deceit, and then as a denouement, a reversal of the consequences (namely executions halted and informed relationships to desires that are reaffirmed)? Philaster seems to follow this layout: the tragedy begins when Pharamond accuses Arethusa of having an affair with Bellario. Philaster believes the rumor, echoing Othello quite strongly. But then during the hunting incident Philaster wounds Arethusa and then in turn is wounded by the Country Fellow. All parties live, however. That is the significant break, to me. Thus, to what extent is the wounding significant in the play? The play possesses a sense of recoverability as do the characters; redemption is possible, albeit only through the revelation that Bellario is in fact a woman (which I am sure can lead to an innumerable amount of questions). Consequently, what role do nonfatal woundings play in tragi-comedies?

A King and No King: Failed Violence or Nonexistent Violent?

Like Philaster, A King and No King does not end with bloodshed but it does revolve around it, mostly in regards to Arbaces desire to murder Gobrias. He has the desire but refuses to play into such rage; his rage does not get the “better” of him, although he is still filled with hatred. As a result, where does tragic-comedy separate itself from the desirous nature of comedies and the bloody endings of tragedies?

The Citizenry in A King and No King / The Confession in Philaster

Adding to what's being noted about the introduction of the citizenry in A King and No King, it seems like the scene is for the most part unnecessary for the plot unless the authors had a particular motivation - outside of the plot - for the general framing of the play. But why this conflict between the country and the city? Why is the country so detested by certain characters? Is it important for any understanding of the play as a whole? Are these characters introduced to show individuals of some relative constancy, a virtue that is lacking in nearly every other character in the court of the play?

Is there something important to be said about the placement of Arethusa's confession very early in Philaster in contrast to the later confessions of the incestuous characters of A King and No King and 'Tis Pity? We don't really get a sense of the torture, self-depreciation, or even conflict that plays such an important role in the period of the play before Abraces' confession in A King and No King. How do the conditions and manners under which the incestuous confession occurs change our judgment as observers regarding the sinfulness or moral appropriateness of the characters involved? Would we as an audience rather see a tortured character struggling with the reality of sin than one who's struggles are either hidden from view or simply not there?

Morality and Religion in A King and No King and Philaster

In Beaumont and Fletcher’s “A King and No King,” it seems that Arbaces blames everyone but himself for his predicament. He transfers an abhorrence of himself onto other characters: when Bessus agrees to help him, Arbaces responds “Hast thou no greater sense of such a sin? Thou art too wicked for my company…” (327). Later, Arbaces blames his father for encouraging his relationship with his sister. Why does Arbaces try to blame everyone but himself? What does this say about his moral character, and the picture that Beaumont and Fletcher create in relation to morality? How are agency, sin, and responsibility intertwined? Are we to believe that Arbaces lacks agency, and thus his sin is reduced? Or, do we place the responsibility of sin within Arbaces himself?

In “Philaster,” the characters are constantly calling on and referring to ‘the gods.’ For example Arethusa says “In seeking how I came thus: ‘tis the gods, the gods that make me so…” (166). Later, Philaster thinks he heard Arethusa pray for “the gods to guard me” (183). ‘The gods’ are invoked throughout the play, rather than the Christian God. Why do the characters refer to a more pagan notion of multiple gods rather than the one Christian God? Does their type of paganism challenge traditional notions of religion? Were Beaumont and Fletcher commenting on the immorality of the characters by their reference to Greek-like gods? And/or, were Beaumont and Fletcher rejecting traditional notions of morality through the characters’ references?

A plague upon these sharp-toed shoes!

Mardonius and Bessus present us with competing models of service in the courtly realm of A King and No King. Mardonius speaks for traditional values and Bessus is exposed, over and over, for his uber-pathetic, Falstaffian shamelessness. Yet at play's end, Bessus is quick to note to Arbaces, "I told you once she was not your sister...and she looked nothing like you." Arbaces confirms this, calls him "good captain," and my neat binary is muddled a bit. Might Beaumont and Fletcher be suggesting, as Shakespeare does in the Act 3 trial scene in King Lear, that a sovereign needs both philosophers and fools to help rule well? How else might Mardonius and Bessus compliment each other in the play?

As Phil notes, the city and the crowd figure prominently from the first scene to the conclusion of Philaster. In fact, as is the case in The Knight of the Burning Pestile, members of the general populace take the stage and take over the dramatic action. As they fantasize about how to mutilate Pharamond, what do the citizens hold most significant? One citizen wants his liver to feed ferrets. Another thinks that if Spanish prince's shin bones are "sound," they'll serve him well. Does the crowd ultimately value the idea of rebellion against an unfavorable sovereign, or the economic-ish use they can put this transgressor to? Why do the playwrights invoke one idea of the "multitude," the "people," the "city" throughout and then complicate that by actually staging the angry mob?

Gendered Citizenship in Philaster and A King and No King

II.ii of A King and No King and V.iv of Philaster--set in urban spaces such as the street-- are scenes that focus primarily on the actions of citizens. Yet in one aspect, these scenes are very different: in Philaster, Beaumont and Fletcher portray aggressive male citizens and in A King and No King, they show talkative citizens' wives. It is obvious that typical gender stereotypes operate in each scene. Yet these scenes avoid the usual pairing of citizens and their wives found in city comedy. What is the effect of the playwrights cutting citizens or their wives off from the relationship that defines them in comedy, namely marriage? Does this separation have sociopolitical ramifications?

Canst thou know grief, and never yet knew'st love?

Many critics of early modern drama have taken an interest in weeping or crying in plays of this period. Semioticians, in particular, look at how the action of weeping comes to represent an absolute failure of language, with tears substituting for words as signifiers of meaning. Often this failure of language is couched in gender terms: crying is a womanish gesture, even if the character weeping is a man. In this context, I am curious as to why Philaster, in particular, is so concerned with tears and weeping? The idea of crying – either in figurative language, as a threat, or through literal action – is woven throughout the play, coming from several characters – Eufiasia (disguised as the male Bellario), Arethusa, and (quite often) Philaster. Or, since our class has taken an interest in explicating the genre identities of these plays: What is the function of tears in a comedy like Philaster?