Part 3

. Cant. 1, l. 1415.

[25] Cf. _Devil in Britain and America_, ch. 2.

[26] _Geschichte des Teufels_ 1. 316, 395.

[27] Hazlitt, _Tales_, pp. 39, 83.

4. _Friar Rush and Dekker_

It was the familiar legend of Friar Rush which furnished the groundwork of Jonson’s play. The story seems to be of Danish origin, and first makes its appearance in England in the form of a prose history during the latter half of the sixteenth century. It is entered in the _Stationer’s Register_ 1567-8, and mentioned by Reginald Scot in 1584.[28] As early as 1566, however, the figure of Friar Rush on a ‘painted cloth’ was a familiar one, and is so mentioned in _Gammer Gurton’s Needle_.[29] The first extant edition dates from 1620, and has been reprinted by W. J. Thoms.[30] The character had already become

## partially identified with that of Robin Goodfellow,[31] and this

identification, as we have seen, Jonson was inclined to accept.

In spite of many variations of detail the kernel of the Rush story is precisely that of Jonson’s play, the visit of a devil to earth with the purpose of corrupting men. Both Rush and Pug assume human bodies, the former being ‘put in rayment like an earthly creature’, while the latter is made subject ‘to all impressions of the flesh’.

Rush, unlike his counterpart, is not otherwise bound to definite conditions, but he too becomes a servant. The adventure is not of his own seeking; he is chosen by agreement of the council, and no mention is made of the emissary’s willingness or unwillingness to perform his part. Later, however, we read that he stood at the gate of the religious house ‘all alone and with a heavie countenance’. In the beginning, therefore, he has little of Pug’s thirst for adventure, but his object is at bottom the same, ‘to goe and dwell among these religious men for to maintaine them the longer in their ungracious living’. Like Pug, whose request for a Vice is denied him, he goes unaccompanied, and presents himself at the priory in the guise of a young man seeking service: ‘Sir, I am a poore young man, and am out of service, and faine would have a maister’.[32]

Most of the remaining incidents of the Rush story could not be used in Jonson’s play. Two incidents may be mentioned. Rush furthers the amours of his master, as Pug attempts to do those of his mistress. In the later history of Rush the motive of demoniacal possession is worked into the plot. In a very important respect, however, the legend differs from the play. Up to the time of discovery Rush is popular and successful. He is nowhere made ridiculous, and his mission of corruption is in large measure fulfilled. The two stories come together in their conclusion. The discovery that a real devil has been among them is the means of the friars’ conversion and future right living. A precisely similar effect takes place in the case of Fitzdottrel.

The legend of Friar Rush had already twice been used in the drama before it was adopted by Jonson. The play by Day and Haughton to which Henslowe refers[33] is not extant; Dekker’s drama, _If this be not a good Play, the Diuell is in it_, appeared in 1612. Jonson in roundabout fashion acknowledged his indebtedness to this play by the closing line of his prologue.

If this Play doe not like, the Diuell is in’t.

Dekker’s play adds few new elements to the story. The first scene is in the infernal regions; not, however, the Christian hell, as in the prose history, but the classical Hades. This change seems to have been adopted from Machiavelli. Three devils are sent to earth with the object of corrupting men and replenishing hell. They return, on the whole, successful, though the corrupted king of Naples is finally redeemed.

In certain respects, however, the play stands closer to Jonson’s drama than the history. In the first place, the doctrine that hell’s vices are both old-fashioned and outdone by men, upon which Satan lays so much stress in his instructions to Pug in the first scene, receives a like emphasis in Dekker:

... ’tis thought That men to find hell, now, new waies have sought, As Spaniards did to the Indies.

and again:

... aboue vs dwell, Diuells brauer, and more subtill then in Hell.[34]

and finally:

They scorne thy hell, hauing better of their owne.

In the second place Lurchall, unlike Rush, but in the same way as Pug, finds himself inferior to his earthly associates. He acknowledges himself overreached by Bartervile, and confesses:

I came to teach, but now (me thinkes) must learne.

A single correspondence of lesser importance may be added. Both devils, when asked whence they come, obscurely intimate their hellish origin. Pug says that he comes from the Devil’s Cavern in Derbyshire. Rufman asserts that his home is Helvetia.[35]

[28] _Discovery_, p. 522.

[29] _O. Pl._, 4th ed., 3. 213.

[30] _Early Eng. Prose Romances_, London 1858.

[31] See Herford’s discussion, _Studies_, p. 305; also _Quarterly Rev._ 22. 358. The frequently quoted passage from Harsnet’s _Declaration_ (ch. 20, p. 134), is as follows: ‘And if that the bowle of curds and cream were not duly set out for Robin Goodfellow, the Friar, and Sisse the dairy-maide, why then either the pottage was burnt the next day, or the cheese would not curdle’, etc. Cf. also Scot, _Discovery_, p. 67: ‘Robin could both eate and drinke, as being a cousening idle frier, or some such roge, that wanted nothing either belonging to lecherie or knaverie, &c’.

[32] Cf. Pug’s words, 1. 3. 1 f.

[33] See Herford, p. 308.

[34] A similar passage is found in Dekker, _Whore of Babylon_, _Wks._ 2. 355. The sentiment is not original with Dekker. Cf. Middleton, _Black Book_, 1604:

. . . And were it number’d well, There are more devils on earth than are in hell.

[35] Dekker makes a similar pun on Helicon in _News from Hell_, _Non-dram Wks._ 2. 95.

5. _The Novella of Belfagor and the Comedy of Grim_

The relation between Jonson’s play and the novella attributed to Niccolò Machiavelli (1469-1522) has been treated in much detail by Dr. Ernst Hollstein. Dr. Hollstein compares the play with the first known English translation, that by the Marquis of Wharton in 1674.[36] It is probable, however, that Jonson knew the novella in its Italian shape, if he knew it at all.[37] The Italian text has therefore been taken as the basis of the present discussion, while Dr. Hollstein’s results, so far as they have appeared adequate or important, have been freely used.

... And were it number’d well, There are more devils on earth than are in hell.

]

Both novella and play depart from the same idea, the visit of a devil to earth to lead a human life. Both devils are bound by certain definite conditions. Belfagor must choose a wife, and live with her ten years; Pug must return at midnight. Belfagor, like Pug, must be subject to ‘ogni infortunio nel quale gli uomini scorrono’.

In certain important respects Machiavelli’s story differs essentially from Jonson’s. Both Dekker and Machiavelli place the opening scene in the classical Hades instead of in the Christian hell. But Dekker’s treatment of the situation is far more like Jonson’s than is the novella’s. Herford makes the distinction clear: ‘Macchiavelli’s Hades is the council-chamber of an Italian Senate, Dekker’s might pass for some tavern haunt of Thames watermen. Dekker’s fiends are the drudges of Pluto, abused for their indolence, flogged at will, and peremptorily sent where he chooses. Machiavelli’s are fiends whose advice he requests with the gravest courtesy and deference, and who give it with dignity and independence’. Further, the whole object of the visit, instead of being the corruption of men, is a mere sociological investigation. Pug is eager to undertake his mission; Belfagor is chosen by lot, and very loath to go. Pug becomes a servant, Belfagor a nobleman.

But in one very important matter the stories coincide, that of the general character and fate of the two devils. As Hollstein points out, each comes with a firm resolve to do his best, each finds at once that his opponents are too strong for him, each through his own docility and stupidity meets repulse after repulse, ending in ruin, and each is glad to return to hell. This, of course, involves the very essence of Jonson’s drama, and on its resemblance to the novella must be based any theory that Jonson was familiar with the latter.

Of resemblance of specific details not much can be made. The two stories have in common the feature of demoniacal possession, but this, as we have seen, occurs also in the Rush legend. The fact that the princess speaks Latin, while Fitzdottrel surprises his auditors by his ‘several languages’, is of no more significance. This is one of the stock indications of witchcraft. It is mentioned by Darrel, and Jonson could not have overlooked a device so obvious. Certain other resemblances pointed out by Dr. Hollstein are of only the most superficial nature. On the whole we are not warranted in concluding with any certainty that Jonson knew the novella at all.

On the other hand, he must have been acquainted with the comedy of _Grim, the Collier of Croydon_ (c 1600). Herford makes no allusion to this play, and, though it was mentioned as a possible source by A. W. Ward,[38] the subject has never been investigated. The author of _Grim_ uses the Belfagor legend for the groundwork of his plot, but handles his material freely. In many respects the play is a close parallel to _The Devil is an Ass_. The same respect for the vices of earth is felt as in Dekker’s and Jonson’s plays. Belphegor sets out to

... make experiment If hell be not on earth as well as here.

The circumstances of the sending bear a strong resemblance to the instructions given to Pug:

Thou shalt be subject unto human chance, So far as common wit cannot relieve thee. But whatsover happens in that time, Look not from us for succour or relief. This shalt thou do, and when the time’s expired, Bring word to us what thou hast seen and done.

So in Jonson:

... but become subject To all impression of the flesh, you take, So farre as humane frailty: ... But as you make your soone at nights relation, And we shall find, it merits from the State, You shall haue both trust from vs, and imployment.

Belphegor is described as ‘patient, mild, and pitiful’; and during his sojourn on earth he shows little aptitude for mischief, but becomes merely a butt and object of abuse. Belphegor’s request for a companion, unlike that of Pug, is granted. He chooses his servant Akercock, who takes the form of Robin Goodfellow. Robin expresses many of the sentiments to be found in the mouth of Pug. With the latter’s monologue (Text, 5. 2) compare Robin’s exclamation:

Zounds, I had rather be in hell than here.

Neither Pug (Text, 2. 5. 3-4) nor Robin dares to return without authority:

What shall I do? to hell I dare not go, Until my master’s twelve months be expir’d.

Like Pug (Text, 5. 6. 3-10) Belphegor worries over his reception in hell:

How shall I give my verdict up to Pluto Of all these accidents?

Finally Belphegor’s sensational disappearance through the yawning earth comes somewhat nearer to Jonson than does the Italian original. The English comedy seems, indeed, to account adequately for all traces of the Belfagor story to be found in Jonson’s play.

[36] A paraphrase of _Belfagor_ occurs in the Conclusion of Barnaby Riche’s _Riche his Farewell to Militarie Profession_, 1581, published for the Shakespeare Society by J. P. Collier, 1846. The name is changed to Balthasar, but the main incidents are the same.

[37] Jonson refers to Machiavelli’s political writings in _Timber_ (ed. Schelling, p. 38).

[38] _Eng. Dram. Lit._ 2. 606.

6. _Summary_

It is certain that of the two leading ideas of Jonson’s comedy, the sending of a devil to earth with the object of corrupting men is derived from the Rush legend. It is probable that the no less important motive of a baffled devil, happy to make his return to hell, is due either directly or indirectly to Machiavelli’s influence. This motive, as we have seen, was strengthened by a body of legend and by the treatment of the devil in the morality play.

7. _The Figure of the Vice_

It is the figure of the Vice which makes Jonson’s satire on the out-of-date moralities most unmistakable. This character has been the subject of much study and discussion, and there is to-day no universally accepted theory as to his origin and development. In the literature of Jonson’s day the term Vice is almost equivalent to harlequin. But whether this element of buffoonery is the fundamental trait of the character, and that of intrigue is due to a confusion in the meaning of the word, or whether the element of intrigue is original, and that of buffoonery has taken its place by a process of degeneration in the Vice himself, is still a disputed question.

The theory of Cushman and of Eckhardt is substantially the same, and may be stated as follows. Whether or not the Vice be a direct descendant of the devil, it is certain that he falls heir to his predecessor’s position in the drama, and that his development is strongly influenced by that character. Originally, like the devil, he represents the principle of evil and may be regarded as the summation of the seven deadly sins. From the beginning, however, he possessed more comic elements, much being ready made for him through the partial degeneration of the devil, while the material of the moralities was by no means so limited in scope as that of the mysteries. This comic element, comparatively slight at first, soon began to be cultivated intentionally, and gradually assumed the chief function, while the allegorical element was largely displaced. In course of time the transformation from the intriguer to the buffoon became complete.[39] Moreover, the rapidity of the transformation was hastened by the influence of the fool, a new dramatic figure of independent origin, but the partial successor upon the stage of the Vice’s comedy part. As early as 1570 the union of fool and Vice is plainly visible.[40] In 1576 we find express stage directions given for the Vice to fill in the pauses with improvised jests.[41] Two years later a Vice plays the leading rôle for the last time.[42] By 1584 the Vice has completely lost his character of intriguer[43], and in the later drama he appears only as an antiquated figure, where he is usually considered as identical with the fool or jester.[44] Cushman enumerates the three chief rôles of the Vice as the opponent of the Good; the corrupter of man; and the buffoon.

The Vice, however, is not confined to the moralities, but appears frequently in the comic interludes. According to the theory of Cushman, the name Vice stands in the beginning for a moral and abstract idea, that of the principle of evil in the world, and must have originated in the moralities; and since it is applied to a comic personage in the interludes, this borrowing must have taken place after the period of degeneration had already begun. To this theory Chambers[45] offers certain important objections. He points out that, although ‘vices in the ordinary sense of the word are of course familiar personages in the morals’, the term Vice is not applied specifically to a character in ‘any pre-Elizabethan moral interlude except the Marian _Respublica_’, 1553. Furthermore, ‘as a matter of fact, he comes into the interlude through the avenue of the farce’. The term is first applied to the leading comic characters in the farces of John Heywood, _Love_ and _The Weather_, 1520-30. These characters have traits more nearly resembling those of the fool and clown than those of the intriguer of the moralities. Chambers concludes therefore that ‘the character of the vice is derived from that of the domestic fool or jester’, and that the term was borrowed by the authors of the moralities from the comic interludes.

These two views are widely divergent, and seem at first wholly irreconcilable. The facts of the case, however, are, I believe, sufficiently clear to warrant the following conclusions: (1) The early moralities possessed many allegorical characters representing vices in the ordinary sense of the word. (2) From among these vices we may distinguish in nearly every play a single character as in a preëminent degree the embodiment of evil. (3) To this chief character the name of Vice was applied about 1553, and with increasing frequency after that date. (4) Whatever may have been the original meaning of the word, it must have been generally understood in the moralities in the sense now usually attributed to it; for (5) The term was applied in the moralities only to a character in some degree evil. Chambers instances _The Tide tarrieth for No Man_ and the tragedy of _Horestes_, where the Vice bears the name of Courage, as exceptions. The cases, however, are misleading. In the former, Courage is equivalent to ‘Purpose’, ‘Desire’, and is a distinctly evil character.[46] In the latter he reveals himself in the second half of the play as Revenge, and although he incites Horestes to an act of justice, he is plainly opposed to ‘Amyte’, and he is finally rejected and discountenanced. Moreover he is here a serious figure, and only occasionally exhibits comic traits. He cannot therefore be considered as supporting the theory of the original identity of the fool and the Vice. (6) The Vice of the comic interludes and the leading character of the moralities are distinct figures. The former was from the beginning a comic figure or buffoon;[47] the latter was in the beginning serious, and continued to the end to preserve serious traits. With which of these two figures the term Vice originated, and by which it was borrowed from the other, is a matter of uncertainty and is of minor consequence. These facts, however, seem certain, and for the present discussion sufficient: that the vices of the earlier and of the later moralities represent the same stock figure; that this figure stood originally for the principle of evil, and only in later days became confused with the domestic fool or jester; that the process of degeneration was continuous and gradual, and took place substantially in the manner outlined by Cushman and Eckhardt; and that, while to the playwright of Jonson’s day the term was suggestive primarily of the buffoon, it meant also an evil personage, who continued to preserve certain lingering traits from the character of intriguer in the earlier moralities.

[39] Eckhardt, p. 195.

[40] In W. Wager’s _The longer thou livest, the more fool thou art_.

[41] In Wapull’s _The Tide tarrieth for No Man_.

[42] Subtle Shift in _The History of Sir Clyomon and Sir Clamydes_.

[43] In Wilson’s _The Three Ladies of London_.

[44] He is so identified in Chapman’s _Alphonsus, Emperor of Germany_ c 1590 (_Wks._, ed. 1873, 3. 216), and in Stubbes’ _Anat._, 1583. Nash speaks of the Vice as an antiquated figure as early as 1592 (_Wks._ 2. 203).

[45] _Med. Stage_, pp. 203-5.

[46] Eckhardt, p. 145.

[47] Sometimes he is even a virtuous character. See Eckhardt’s remarks on _Archipropheta_, p. 170. Merry Report in Heywood’s _Weather_ constantly moralizes, and speaks of himself as the servant of God in contrast with the devil.

8. _Jonson’s Use of the Vice_

The position of the Vice has been discussed at some length because of its very important bearing on Jonson’s comedy. It is evident, even upon a cursory reading, that Jonson has not confined himself to the conception of the Vice obtainable from a familiarity with the interludes alone, as shown in Heywood’s farces or the comedy of _Jack Juggler_. The character of Iniquity, though fully identified with the buffoon of the later plays, is nevertheless closely connected in the author’s mind with the intriguer of the old moralities. This is clear above all from the use of the name Iniquity, from his association with the devil, and from Pug’s desire to use him as a means of corrupting his playfellows. Thus, consciously or unconsciously on Jonson’s part, Iniquity presents in epitome the history of the Vice.

His very name, as we have said, links him with the morality-play. In fact, all the Vices suggested, Iniquity, Fraud, Covetousness, and Lady Vanity, are taken from the moralities. The choice of Iniquity was not without meaning, and was doubtless due to its more general and inclusive significance. In Shakespeare’s time Vice and Iniquity seem to have been synonymous terms (see Schmidt), from which it has been inferred that Iniquity was the Vice in many lost moralities.[48]

Of the original Vice-traits Iniquity lays vigorous claim to that of the corrupter of man. Pug desires a Vice that he may ‘practice there-with any play-fellow’, and Iniquity comes upon the stage with voluble promises to teach his pupil to ‘cheat, lie, cog and swagger’. He offers also to lead him into all the disreputable precincts of the city. Iniquity appears in only two scenes, Act 1. Sc. 1 and Act 5. Sc. 6. In the latter he reverses the usual process and carries away the devil to hell. This point has already been discussed (p. xxiv).

Aside from these two particulars, Iniquity is far nearer to the fool than to the original Vice. As he comes skipping upon the stage in the first scene, reciting his galloping doggerel couplets, we see plainly that the element of buffoonery is uppermost in Jonson’s mind. Further evidence may be derived from the particularity with which Iniquity describes the costume which he promises to Pug, and which we are doubtless to understand as descriptive of his own. Attention should be directed especially to the wooden dagger, the long cloak, and the slouch hat. Cushman says (p. 125): ‘The vice enjoys the greatest freedom in the matter of dress; he is not confined to any stereotyped costume; ... the opinion that he is always or usually dressed in a fool’s costume has absolutely no justification’. The wooden dagger, a relic of the Roman stage,[49] is the most frequently mentioned article of equipment. It is first found (1553-8) as part of the apparel of Jack Juggler in a print illustrating that play, reproduced by Dodsley. It is also mentioned in _Like Will to Like_, _Hickescorner_, _King Darius_, etc. The wooden dagger was borrowed, however, from the fool’s costume, and is an indication of the growing identification of the Vice with the house-fool. That Jonson recognized it as such is evident from his _Expostulation with Inigo Jones_:

No velvet suit you wear will alter kind; A wooden dagger is a dagger of wood.

The long cloak, twice mentioned (1. 1. 51 and 85), is another property borrowed from the fool. The natural fool usually wore a long gown-like dress,[50] and this was later adopted as a dress for the artificial fool. Muckle John, the court fool of Charles I., was provided with ‘a long coat and suit of scarlet-colour serge’.[51]

Satan’s reply to Pug’s request for a Vice is, however, the most important passage on this subject. He begins by saying that the Vice, whom he identifies with the house fool, is fifty years out of date. Only trivial and absurd parts are left for Iniquity to play, the mountebank tricks of the city and the tavern fools. Douce (pp. 499 f.) mentions nine kinds of fools, among which the following appear: 1. The general domestic fool. 4. The city or corporation fool. 5. Tavern fools. Satan compares Iniquity with each of these in turn. The day has gone by, he says:

When euery great man had his _Vice_ stand by him, In his long coat, shaking his wooden dagger.

Then he intimates that Iniquity may be able to play the tavern fool:

Where canst thou carry him? except to Tauernes? To mount vp ona joynt-stoole, with a _Iewes_-trumpe, To put downe _Cokeley_, and that must be to Citizens?

And finally he compares him with the city fool:

Hee may perchance, in taile of a Sheriffes dinner, Skip with a rime o’ the table, from _New-nothing_, And take his _Almaine_-leape into a custard.

Thus not only does Jonson identify the Vice with the fool, but with the fool in his senility. The characteristic functions of the jester in the Shakespearian drama, with his abundant store of improvised jests, witty retorts, and irresistible impudence, have no part in this character. He is merely the mountebank who climbs upon a tavern stool, skips over the table, and leaps into corporation custards.

Iniquity, then, plays no real part in the drama. His introduction is merely for the purpose of satire. In _The Staple of News_ the subject is renewed, and treated with greater directness:

‘_Tat._ I would fain see the fool, gossip; the fool is the finest man in the company, they say, and has all the wit: he is the very justice o’ peace o’ the play, and can commit whom he will and what he will, error, absurdity, as the toy takes him, and no man say black is his eye, but laugh at him’.

In _Epigram 115, On the Town’s Honest Man_, Jonson again identifies the Vice with the mountebank, almost in the same way as he does in _The Devil is an Ass_:

... this is one Suffers no name but a description Being no vicious person but the Vice About the town; ... At every meal, where it doth dine or sup, The cloth’s no sooner gone, but it gets up, And shifting of its faces, doth play more Parts than the Italian could do with his door. Acts old Iniquity and in the fit Of miming gets the opinion of a wit.

[48] This designation for the Vice first appears in _Nice Wanton_, 1547-53, then in _King Darius_, 1565, and _Histriomastix_, 1599 (printed 1610).

[49] Wright, _Hist. of Caricature_, p. 106.

[50] Doran, p. 182.

[51] _Ibid._, p. 210.

II. THE SATIRICAL DRAMA

It was from Aristophanes[52] that Jonson learned to combine with such boldness the palpable with the visionary, the material with the abstract. He surpassed even his master in the power of rendering the combination a convincing one, and his method was always the same. Fond as he was of occasional flights of fancy, his mind was fundamentally satirical, so that the process of welding the apparently discordant elements was always one of rationalizing the fanciful rather than of investing the actual with a far-away and poetic atmosphere. Thus even his purely supernatural scenes present little incongruity. Satan and Iniquity discuss strong waters and tobacco, Whitechapel and Billingsgate, with the utmost familiarity; even hell’s ‘most exquisite tortures’ are adapted in part from the homely proverbs of the people. In the use of his sources three tendencies are especially noticeable: the motivation of borrowed incidents; the adjusting of action on a moral basis: the reworking of his own favorite themes and incidents.

[52] See Herford, p. 318.

1. _General Treatment of the Plot_

For the main plot we have no direct source. It represents, however, Jonson’s typical method. It has been pointed out[53] that the characteristic Jonsonian comedy always consists of two groups, the intriguers and the victims. In _The Devil is an Ass_ the most purely comic motive of the play is furnished by a reversal of the usual relation subsisting between these two groups. Here the devil, who was wont to be looked upon as arch-intriguer, is constantly ‘fooled off and beaten’, and thus takes his position as the comic butt. Pug, in a sense, represents a satirical trend. Through him Jonson satirizes the outgrown supernaturalism which still clung to the skirts of Jacobean realism, and at the same time paints in lively colors the vice of a society against which hell itself is powerless to contend. It is only, however, in a general way, where the devil stands for a principle, that Pug may be considered as in any degree satirical. In the particular incident he is always a purely comic figure, and furnishes the mirth which results from a sense of the incongruity between anticipation and accomplishment.

Fitzdottrel, on the other hand, is mainly satirical. Through him Jonson passes censure upon the city gallant, the attendant at the theatre, the victim of the prevalent superstitions, and even the pretended demoniac. His dupery, as in the case of his bargain with Wittipol, excites indignation rather than mirth, and his final discomfiture affords us almost a sense of poetic justice. This character stands in the position of chief victim.

In an intermediate position are Merecraft and Everill. They succeed in swindling Fitzdottrel and Lady Tailbush, but are in turn played upon by the chief intriguer, Wittipol, with his friend Manly. Jonson’s moral purpose is here plainly visible, especially in contrast to Plautus, with whom the youthful intriguer is also the stock figure. The motive of the young man’s trickery in the Latin comedy is usually unworthy and selfish. That of Wittipol, on the other hand, is wholly disinterested, since he is represented as having already philosophically accepted the rejection of his advances at the hands of Mrs. Fitzdottrel.

In construction the play suffers from overabundance of material. Instead of a single main line of action, which is given clear precedence, there is rather a succession of elaborated episodes, carefully connected and motivated, but not properly subordinated. The plot is coherent and intricate rather than unified. This is further aggravated by the fact that the chief objects of satire are imperfectly understood by readers of the present day.

Jonson observes unity of time, Pug coming to earth in the morning and returning at midnight. With the exception of the first scene, which is indeterminate, and seems at one moment to be hell, and the next London, the action is confined to the City, but hovers between Lincoln’s Inn, Newgate, and the house of Lady Tailbush. Unity of action is of course broken by the interference of the devil-plot and the episodic nature of the satirical plot. The main lines of action may be discussed separately.

In the first act chief prominence is given to the intrigue between Wittipol and Mrs. Fitzdottrel. This interest is continued through the second act, but practically dropped after this point. In Act 4 we find that both lovers have recovered from their infatuation, and the intrigue ends by mutual consent.

The second act opens with the episode of Merecraft’s plot to gull Fitzdottrel. The project of the dukedom of Drownedland is given chief place, and attention is centred upon it both here and in the following scenes. Little use, however, is made of it in the motivation of

## action. This is left for another project, the office of the Master of

Dependencies (quarrels) in the next act. This device is introduced in an incidental way, and we are not prepared for the important place which it takes in the development of the plot. Merecraft, goaded by Everill, hits upon it merely as a temporary makeshift to extort money from Fitzdottrel. The latter determines to make use of the office in prosecuting his quarrel with Wittipol. In preparation for the duel, and in accordance with the course of procedure laid down by Everill, he resolves to settle his estate. Merecraft and Everill endeavor to have the deed drawn in their own favor, but through the interference of Wittipol the whole estate is made over to Manly, who restores it to Mrs. Fitzdottrel. This project becomes then the real turning-point of the play.

The episode of Guilthead and Plutarchus in Act 3 is only slightly connected with the main plot. That of Wittipol’s disguise as a Spanish lady, touched upon in the first two acts, becomes the chief interest of the fourth. It furnishes much comic material, and the characters of Lady Tailbush and Lady Eitherside offer the poet the opportunity for some of his cleverest touches in characterization and contrast.[54] The scene, however, is introduced for incidental purposes, the satirization of foreign fashions and the follies of London society, and is overelaborated. The catalogue of cosmetics is an instance of Jonson’s intimate acquaintance with recondite knowledge standing in the way of his art.

Merecraft’s ‘after game’ in the fifth act is of the nature of an appendix. The play might well have ended with the frustration of his plan to get possession of the estate. This act is introduced chiefly for the sake of a satire upon pretended demoniacs and witch-finders. It also contains the conclusion of the devil-plot.

_The Devil is an Ass_ will always remain valuable as a historical document, and as a record of Jonson’s own attitude towards the abuses of his times. In the treatment of Fitzdottrel and Merecraft among the chief persons, and of Plutarchus Guilthead among the lesser, this play belongs to Jonson’s character-drama.[55] It does not, however, belong to the pure humor-comedy. Like _The Alchemist_, and in marked contrast to _Every Man out of his Humor_, interest is sought in plot development. In the scene between Lady Tailbush and Lady Eitherside, the play becomes a comedy of manners, and in its attack upon state abuses it is semi-political in nature. Both Gifford and Swinburne have observed the ethical treatment of the main motives.

With the exception of Prologue and Epilogue, the doggerel couplets spoken by Iniquity, Wittipol’s song (2. 6. 94), and some of the lines quoted by Fitzdottrel in the last scene, the play is written in blank verse throughout. Occasional lines of eight (2. 2. 122), nine (2. 1. 1), twelve (1. 1. 33) or thirteen (1. 1. 113) syllables are introduced. Most of these could easily be normalized by a slight emendation or the slurring of a syllable in pronunciation. Many of the lines, however, are rough and difficult of scansion. Most of the dialogue is vigorous, though Wittipol’s language is sometimes affected and unnatural (cf. Act 1. Sc. 1). His speech, 1. 6. 111-148, is classical in tone, but fragmentary and not perfectly assimilated. The song already referred to possesses delicacy and some beauty of imagery, but lacks Jonson’s customary polish and smoothness.

As a work of art the play must rely chiefly upon the vigor of its satiric dialogue and the cleverness of its character sketches. It lacks the chief excellences of construction--unity of interest, subordination of detail, steady and uninterrupted development, and prompt conclusion.

[53] Woodbridge, _Studies_, p. 33.

[54] Contrasted companion-characters are a favorite device with Jonson. Compare Corvino, Corbaccio, and Voltore in _The Fox_, Ananias and Tribulation Wholesome in _The Alchemist_, etc.

[55] It should be noticed that in the case of Merecraft the method employed is the caricature of a profession, as well as the exposition of personality.

2. _Chief Sources of the Plot_

The first source to be pointed out was that of Act 1. Sc. 4-6.[56] This was again noticed by Koeppel, who mentions one of the word-for-word borrowings, and points out the moralistic tendency in Jonson’s treatment of the husband, and his rejection of the Italian story’s licentious conclusion.[57] The original is from Boccaccio’s _Decameron_, the fifth novella of the third day. Boccaccio’s title is as follows: ‘Il Zima dona a messer Francesco Vergellesi un suo pallafreno, e per quello con licenzia di lui parla alla sua donna, ed ella tacendo, egli in persona di lei si risponde, e secondo la sua risposta poi l’effetto segue’. The substance of the story is this. Il Zima, with the bribe of a palfrey, makes a bargain with Francesco. For the gift he is granted an interview with the wife of Francesco and in the latter’s presence. This interview, however, unlike that in _The Devil is an Ass_, is not in the husband’s hearing. To guard against any mishap, Francesco secretly commands his wife to make no answer to the lover, warning her that he will be on the lookout for any communication on her part. The wife, like Mrs. Fitzdottrel, upbraids her husband, but is obliged to submit. Il Zima begins his courtship, but, though apparently deeply affected, she makes no answer. The young man then suspects the husband’s trick (e poscia s’incominciò ad accorgere dell’ arte usata dal cavaliere). He accordingly hits upon the device of supposing himself in her place and makes an answer for her, granting an assignation. As a signal he suggests the hanging out of the window of two handkerchiefs. He then answers again in his own person. Upon the husband’s rejoining them he pretends to be deeply chagrined, complains that he has met a statue of marble (una statua di marmo) and adds: ‘Voi avete comperato il pallafreno, e io non l’ho venduto’. Il Zima is successful in his ruse, and Francesco’s wife yields completely to his seduction.

A close comparison of this important source is highly instructive. Verbal borrowings show either that Jonson had the book before him, or that he remembered many of the passages literally. Thus Boccaccio’s ‘una statua di marmo’ finds its counterpart in a later scene[58] where Mrs. Fitzdottrel says: ‘I would not haue him thinke hee met a statue’. Fitzdottrel’s satisfaction at the result of the bargain is like that of Francesco: ‘I ha’ kept the contract, and the cloake is mine’ (omai è ben mio il pallafreno, che fu tuo). Again Wittipol’s parting words resemble Il Zima’s: ‘It may fall out, that you ha’ bought it deare, though I ha’ not sold it’.[59] In the mouths of the two heroes, however, these words mean exactly opposite things. With Il Zima it is a complaint, and means: ‘You have won the cloak, but I have got nothing in return’. With Wittipol, on the other hand, it is an open sneer, and hints at further developments. The display of handkerchiefs at the window is another borrowing. Fitzdottrel says sarcastically:

... I’ll take carefull order, That shee shall hang forth ensignes at the window.

Finally Wittipol, like Il Zima, suspects a trick when Mrs. Fitzdottrel refuses to answer:

How! not any word? Nay, then, I taste a tricke in’t.

But precisely here Jonson blunders badly. In Boccaccio’s story the trick was a genuine one. Il Zima stands waiting for an answer. When no response is made he begins to suspect the husband’s secret admonition, and to thwart it hits upon the device of answering himself. But in Jonson there is no trick at all. Fitzdottrel does indeed require his wife to remain silent, but by no means secretly. His command is placed in the midst of a rambling discourse addressed alternately to his wife and to the young men. There is not the slightest hint that any part of this speech is whispered in his wife’s ear, and Wittipol enters upon his courtship with full knowledge of the situation. This fact deprives Wittipol’s speech in the person of Mrs. Fitzdottrel of its character as a clever device, so that the whole point of Boccaccio’s story is weakened, if not destroyed. I cannot refrain in conclusion from making a somewhat doubtful conjecture. It is noticeable that while Jonson follows so many of the details of this story with the greatest fidelity he substitutes the gift of a cloak for that of the original ‘pallafreno’ (palfrey).[60] The word is usually written ‘palafreno’ and so occurs in Florio. Is it possible that Jonson was unfamiliar with the word, and, not being able to find it in a dictionary, conjectured that it was identical with ‘palla’, a cloak?

In other respects Jonson’s handling of the story displays his characteristic methods. Boccaccio spends very few words in description of either husband or suitor. Jonson, however, is careful to make plain the despicable character of Fitzdottrel, while Wittipol is represented as an attractive and high-minded young man. Further than this, both Mrs. Fitzdottrel and Wittipol soon recover completely from their infatuation.

Koeppel has suggested a second source from the _Decameron_, Day 3, Novella 3. The title is: ‘Sotto spezie di confessione e di purissima coscienza una donna, innamorata d’un giovane, induce un solenne frate, senza avvedersene egli, a dar modo che’l piacer di lei avessi intero effetto’. The story is briefly this. A lady makes her confessor the means of establishing an acquaintance with a young man with whom she has fallen in love. Her directions are conveyed to him under the guise of indignant prohibitions. By a series of messages of similar character she finally succeeds in informing him of the absence of her husband and the possibility of gaining admittance to her chamber by climbing a tree in the garden. Thus the friar becomes the unwitting instrument of the very thing which he is trying to prevent. So in Act 2. Sc. 2 and 6, Mrs. Fitzdottrel suspects Pug of being her husband’s spy. She dares not therefore send Wittipol a direct message, but requests him to cease his attentions to her

At the Gentlemans chamber-window in _Lincolnes-Inne_ there, That opens to my gallery.

Wittipol takes the hint, and promptly appears at the place indicated.

Von Rapp[61] has mentioned certain other scenes as probably of Italian origin, but, as he advances no proofs, his suggestions may be neglected. It seems to me possible that in the scene above referred to, where the lover occupies a house adjoining that of his mistress, and their secret amour is discovered by her servant and reported to his master, Jonson had in mind the same incident in Plautus’ _Miles Gloriosus_, Act. 2. Sc. 1 f.

The trait of jealousy which distinguishes Fitzdottrel was suggested to some extent by the character of Euclio in the _Aulularia_, and a passage of considerable length[62] is freely paraphrased from that play. The play and the passage had already been used in _The Case is Altered_.

Miss Woodbridge has noticed that the scene in which Lady Tailbush and her friends entertain Wittipol disguised as a Spanish lady is similar to Act 3. Sc. 2 of _The Silent Woman_, where the collegiate ladies call upon Epicoene. The trick of disguising a servant as a woman occurs in Plautus’ _Casina_, Acts 4 and 5.

For the final scene, where Fitzdottrel plays the part of a bewitched person, Jonson made free use of contemporary books and tracts. The motive of pretended possession had already appeared in _The Fox_ (_Wks._ 3. 312), where symptoms identical with or similar to those in the present passage are mentioned--swelling of the belly, vomiting crooked pins, staring of the eyes, and foaming at the mouth. The immediate suggestion in this place may have come either through the Rush story or through Machiavelli’s novella. That Jonson’s materials can be traced exclusively to any one source is hardly to be expected. Not only were trials for witchcraft numerous, but they must have formed a common subject of speculation and discussion. The ordinary evidences of possession were doubtless familiar to the well-informed man without the need of reference to particular records. And it is of the ordinary evidences that the poet chiefly makes use. Nearly all these are found repeatedly in the literature of the period.

We know, on the other hand, that Jonson often preferred to get his information through the medium of books. It is not surprising, therefore, that Merecraft proposes to imitate ‘little Darrel’s tricks’, and to find that the dramatist has resorted in large measure to this

## particular source.[63]

The Darrel controversy was carried on through a number of years between John Darrel, a clergyman (see note 5. 3. 6), on the one hand, and Bishop Samuel Harsnet, John Deacon and John Walker, on the other. Of the tracts produced in this controversy the two most important are Harsnet’s _Discovery of the Fraudulent Practises of John Darrel_,[64] 1599, and Darrel’s _True Narration of the Strange and Grevous Vexation by the Devil of 7 Persons in Lancashire and William Somers of Nottingham_, ... 1600. The story is retold in Francis Hutchinson’s _Historical Essay concerning Witchcraft_, London, 1720.

Jonson follows the story as told in these two books with considerable fidelity. The accompaniments of demonic possession which Fitzdottrel exhibits in the last scene are enumerated in two previous speeches. Practically all of these are to be found in Darrel’s account:

... roule but wi’ your eyes, And foam at th’ mouth. (Text, 5. 3. 2-3) ... to make your belly swell, And your eyes turne, to foame, to stare, to gnash Your teeth together, and to beate your selfe, Laugh loud, and faine six voices. (5. 5. 25 f.)

They may be compared with the description given by Darrel: ‘He was often seene ... to beate his head and other parts of his body against the ground and bedstead. In most of his fitts, he did swell in his body; ... if he were standing when the fit came he wold be cast headlong upon the ground, or fall doune, drawing then his lips awry, gnashing with his teeth, wallowing and foaming.... Presently after he would laughe loud and shrill, his mouth being shut close’. (Darrel, p. 181.) ‘He was also continually torne in very fearfull manner, and disfigured in his face ... now he gnashed with his teeth; now he fomed like to the horse or boare, ... not to say anything of his fearfull staring with his eyes, and incredible gaping’. (Darrel, p. 183.) The swelling, foaming, gnashing, staring, etc., are also mentioned by Harsnet (pp. 147-8), as well as the jargon of languages (p. 165).

The scene is prepared before Merecraft’s appearance (Text, 5. 5. 40. Cf. _Detection_, p. 92), and Fitzdottrel is discovered lying in bed (Text, 5. 5. 39; 5. 8. 40). Similarly, Somers performed many of his tricks ‘under a coverlet’ (_Detection_, p. 104). Sir Paul Eitherside then enters and ‘interprets all’. This is imitated directly from Harsnet, where we read: ‘So. [Somers] acting those gestures M. Dar. did expound them very learnedlye, to signify this or that sinne that raigned in Nott. [Nottingham].’ Paul’s first words are: ‘This is the _Diuell_ speakes and laughes in him’. So Harsnet tells us that ‘M. Dar. vpon his first comming vnto Som. affirmed that it was not So. that spake in his fitts, but the diuell by him’. Both Fitzdottrel (Text, 5. 8. 115) and Somers (_Narration_, p. 182) talk in Greek. The devil in Fitzdottrel proposes to ‘break his necke in jest’ (Text, 5. 8. 117), and a little later to borrow money (5. 8. 119). The same threat is twice made in the _True Narration_ (pp. 178 and 180). In the second of these passages Somers is met by an old woman, who tries to frighten him into giving her money. Otherwise, she declares, ‘I will throwe thee into this pit, and breake thy neck’. The mouse ‘that should ha’ come forth’ (Text, 5. 8. 144) is mentioned by both narrators (_Detection_, p. 140; _Narration_, p. 184), and the pricking of the body with pins and needles (Text, 5. 8. 49) is found in slightly altered form (_Detection_, p. 135; _Narration_, p. 174). Finally the clapping of the hands (Text. 5. 8. 76) is a common feature (_Narration_, p. 182). The last mentioned passage finds a still closer parallel in a couplet from the contemporary ballad, which Gifford quotes from Hutchinson (p. 249):

And by the clapping of his Hands He shew’d the starching of our Bands.

Of the apparatus supplied by Merecraft for the imposture, the soap, nutshell, tow, and touchwood (Text, 5. 3. 3-5), the bladders and bellows (Text, 5. 5. 48), some are doubtless taken from Harsnet’s _Discovery_, though Darrel does not quote these passages in the _Detection_. We find, however, that Darrel was accused of supplying Somers with black lead to foam with (_Detection_, p. 160), and Gifford says that the _soap_ and _bellows_ are also mentioned in the ‘Bishop’s book’.

Though Jonson drew so largely upon this source, many details are supplied by his own imagination. Ridiculous as much of it may seem to the modern reader, it is by no means overdrawn. In fact it may safely be affirmed that no such realistic depiction of witchcraft exists elsewhere in the whole range of dramatic literature.

[56] Langbaine, _Eng. Dram. Poets_, p. 289.

[57] _Quellen Studien_, p. 15.

[58] 2. 2. 69.

[59] Mentioned by Koeppel, p. 15.

[60] So spelled in 1573 ed. In earlier editions ‘palafreno’.

[61] _Studien_, p. 232.

[62] See note 2. 1. 168 f.

[63] Gifford points out the general resemblance. He uses Hutchinson’s book for comparison.

[64] This book, so far as I know, is not to be found in any American library. My knowledge of its contents is derived wholly from Darrel’s answer, _A Detection of that sinnful, shamful, lying and ridiculous Discours, of Samuel Harshnet, entituled: A Discoverie, etc.... Imprinted 1600_, which apparently cites all of Harsnet’s more important points for refutation. It has been lent me through the kindness of Professor George L. Burr from the Cornell Library. The quotations from Harsnet in the following pages are accordingly taken from the excerpts in the _Detection_.

3. _Prototypes of the leading Characters_

The position of the leading characters has already been indicated. Pug, as the comic butt and innocent gull, is allied to Master Stephen and Master Matthew of _Every Man in his Humor_, Dapper of _The Alchemist_, and Cokes of _Bartholomew Fair_. Fitzdottrel, another type of the gull, is more closely related to _Tribulation Wholesome_ in _The Alchemist_, and even in some respects to Corvino and Voltore in _The Fox_. Wittipol and Manly, the chief intriguers, hold approximately the same position as Wellbred and Knowell in _Every Man in his Humor_, Winwife and Quarlous in _Bartholomew Fair_, and Dauphine, Clerimont, and Truewit in _The Silent Woman_. Merecraft is related in his character of swindler to Subtle in _The Alchemist_, and in his character of projector to Sir Politick Wouldbe in _The Fox_.

The contemptible ‘lady of spirit and woman of fashion’ is one of Jonson’s favorite types. She first appears in the persons of Fallace and Saviolina in _Every Man out of his Humor_; then in _Cynthia’s Revels_, where Moria and her friends play the part; then as Cytheris in _Poetaster_, Lady Politick in _The Alchemist_, the collegiate ladies in _The Silent Woman_, and Fulvia and Sempronia in _Catiline_. The same affectations and vices are satirized repeatedly. An evident prototype of Justice Eitherside is found in the person of Adam Overdo in _Bartholomew Fair_. Both are justices of the peace, both are officious, puritanical, and obstinate. Justice Eitherside’s denunciation of the devotees of tobacco finds its counterpart in a speech in _Bartholomew Fair_, and his repeated ‘I do detest it’ reminds one of Overdo’s frequent expressions of horror at the enormities which he constantly discovers.

4. _Minor Sources_

_The Devil is an Ass_ is not deeply indebted to the classics. Jonson borrows twice from Horace, 1. 6. 131, and 2. 4. 27 f. The half dozen lines in which the former passage occurs (1. 6. 126-132) are written in evident imitation of the Horatian style. Two passages are also borrowed from Plautus, 2. 1. 168 f., already mentioned, and 3. 6. 38-9. A single passage (2. 6. 104 f.) shows the influence of Martial. These passages are all quoted in the notes.

The source of Wittipol’s description of the ‘Cioppino’, and the mishap attendant upon its use, was probably taken from a contemporary book of travels. A passage in Coryat’s _Crudities_ furnishes the necessary information and a similar anecdote, and was doubtless used by Jonson (see note 4. 4. 69). Coryat was patronized by the poet. Similarly, another passage in the _Crudities_ seems to have suggested the project of the forks (see note 5. 4. 17).

A curious resemblance is further to be noted between several passages in _The Devil is an Ass_ and _Underwoods 62_. The first draft of this poem may have been written not long before the present play (see Fleay, _Chron._ 1. 329-30) and so have been still fresh in the poet’s mind. The passage _DA._ 3. 2. 44-6 shows unmistakably that the play was the borrower, and not the poem. Gifford suggests that both passages were quoted from a contemporary posture-book, but the passage in the epigram gives no indication of being a quotation.

The chief parallels are as follows: _U. 62._ 10-14 and _DA._ 3. 3. 165-6; _U. 62._ 21-2 and _DA._ 3. 3. 169-72; _U. 62._ 25-6 and _DA._ 3. 2. 44-6; _U. 62._ 45-8 and _DA._ 2. 8. 19-22. These passages are all quoted in the notes. In addition, there are a few striking words and phrases that occur in both productions, but the important likenesses are all noted above. In no other poem except _Charis_, _The Gipsies_, and _Underwoods 36_,[65] where the borrowings are unmistakably intentional, is there any thing like the same reworking of material as in this instance.

III. SPECIFIC OBJECTS OF SATIRE

_The Devil is an Ass_ has been called of all Jonson’s plays since _Cynthia’s Revels_ the most obsolete in the subjects of its satire.[66] The criticism is true, and it is only with some knowledge of the abuses which Jonson assails that we can appreciate the keenness and precision of his thrusts. The play is a colossal exposé of social abuses. It attacks the aping of foreign fashions, the vices of society, and above all the cheats and impositions of the unscrupulous swindler. But we miss its point if we fail to see that Jonson’s arraignment of the society which permitted itself to be gulled is no less severe than that of the swindler who practised upon its credulity. Three institutions especially demand an explanation both for their own sake and for their bearing upon the plot. These are the duello, the monopoly, and the pretended demoniacal possession.

[65] See Introduction, Section C. IV.

[66] Swinburne, p. 65.

1. _The Duello_

The origin of private dueling is a matter of some obscurity. It was formerly supposed to be merely a development of the judicial duel or combat, but this is uncertain. Dueling flourished on the Continent, and was especially prevalent in France during the reign of Henry III. Jonson speaks of the frequency of the practice in France in _The Magnetic Lady_.

No private duel seems to have occurred in England before the sixteenth century, and the custom was comparatively rare until the reign of James I. Its introduction was largely due to the substitution of the rapier for the broadsword. Not long after this change in weapons fencing-schools began to be established and were soon very popular. Donald Lupton, in his _London and the Countrey carbonadoed_, 1632, says they were usually set up by ‘some low-country soldier, who to keep himself honest from further inconveniences, as also to maintain himself, thought upon this course and practises it’.[67]

The etiquette of the duel was a matter of especial concern. The two chief authorities seem to have been Jerome Carranza, the author of a book entitled _Filosofia de las Armas_,[68] and Vincentio Saviolo, whose _Practise_ was translated into English in 1595. It contained two parts, the first ‘intreating of the vse of the rapier and dagger’, the second ‘of honor and honorable quarrels’. The rules laid down in these books were mercilessly ridiculed by the dramatists; and the duello was a frequent subject of satire.[69]

By 1616 dueling must have become very common. Frequent references to the subject are found about this time in the _Calendar of State Papers_. Under date of December 9, 1613, we read that all persons who go abroad to fight duels are to be censured in the Star Chamber. On February 17, 1614, ‘a proclamation, with a book annexed’, was issued against duels, and on February 13, 1617, the King made a Star Chamber speech against dueling, ‘on which he before published a sharp edict’.

The passion for dueling was turned to advantage by a set of improvident bravos, who styled themselves ‘sword-men’ or ‘masters of dependencies,’ a _dependence_ being the accepted name for an impending quarrel. These men undertook to examine into the causes of a duel, and to settle or ‘take it up’ according to the rules laid down by the authorities on this subject. Their prey were the young men of fashion in the city, and especially ‘country gulls’, who were newly come to town and were anxious to become sophisticated. The profession must have been profitable, for we hear of their methods being employed by the ‘roaring boys’[70] and the masters of the fencing schools.[71] Fletcher in _The Elder Brother_, _Wks._ 10. 283, speaks of

... the masters of dependencies That by compounding differences ’tween others Supply their own necessities,

and Massinger makes similar comment in _The Guardian_, _Wks._, p. 343:

When two heirs quarrel, The swordsmen of the city shortly after Appear in plush, for their grave consultations In taking up the difference; some, I know, Make a set living on’t.

Another function of the office is mentioned by Ford in _Fancies Chaste and Noble_, _Wks._ 2. 241. The master would upon occasion ‘brave’ a quarrel with the novice for the sake of ‘gilding his reputation’, and Massinger in _The Maid of Honor_, _Wks._, p. 190, asserts that he would even consent ‘for a cloak with thrice-died velvet, and a cast suit’ to be ‘kick’d down the stairs’. In _A King and No King_, B. & Fl., _Wks._ 2. 310 f., Bessus consults with two of these ‘Gentlemen of the Sword’ in a ridiculous scene, in which the sword-men profess the greatest scrupulousness in examining every word and phrase, affirming that they cannot be ‘too subtle in this business’.

Jonson never loses an opportunity of satirizing these despicable bullies, who were not only ridiculous in their affectations, but who proved by their ‘fomenting bloody quarrels’ to be no small danger to the state. Bobadill, who is described as a Paul’s Man, was in addition a pretender to this craft. Matthew complains that Downright has threatened him with the bastinado, whereupon Bobadill cries out immediately that it is ‘a most proper and sufficient dependence’ and adds: ‘Come hither, you shall chartel him; I’ll shew you a trick or two, you shall kill him with at pleasure’.[72] Cavalier Shift, in _Every Man out of his Humor_, among various other occupations has the reputation of being able to ‘manage a quarrel the best that ever you saw, for terms and circumstances’. We have an excellent picture of the ambitious novice in the person of Kastrill in _The Alchemist_. Kastrill, who is described as an ‘angry boy’, comes to consult Subtle as to how to ‘carry a business, manage a quarrel fairly’. Face assures him that Dr. Subtle is able to ‘take the height’ of any quarrel whatsoever, to tell ‘in what degree of safety it lies’, ‘how it may be borne’, etc.

From this description of the ‘master of dependencies’ the exquisite humor of the passage in _The Devil is an Ass_ (3. 3. 60 f.) can be appreciated. Merecraft assures Fitzdottrel that this occupation, in reality the refuge only of the Shifts and Bobadills of the city, is a new and important office about to be formally established by the state. In spite of all their speaking against dueling, he says, they have come to see the evident necessity of a public tribunal to which all quarrels may be referred. It is by means of this pretended office that Merecraft attempts to swindle Fitzdottrel out of his entire estate, from which disaster he is saved only by the clever interposition of Wittipol.

[67] Cf. also Gosson, _School of Abuse_, 1579; Dekker, _A Knight’s Conjuring_, 1607; Overbury, _Characters_, ed. Morley, p. 66.

[68] See _New Inn_ 2. 2; _Every Man in_ 1. 5; B. & Fl., _Love’s Pilgrimage_, _Wks._ 11. 317, 320.

[69] Cf. _Albumazar_, _O. Pl._ 7. 185-6; _Rom. and Jul._ 2. 4. 26; _Twelfth Night_ 3. 4. 335; _L. L. L._ 1. 2. 183; Massinger, _Guardian_, _Wks._, p. 346. Mercutio evidently refers to Saviolo’s book and the use of the rapier in _Rom. and Jul._ 3. 1. 93. Here the expression, ‘fight by the book’, first occurs, used again by B. & Fl., _Elder Brother_, _Wks._ 10. 284; Dekker, _Guls Horne-booke_, ch. 4; _As You Like it_ 5. 4. Dekker speaks of Saviolo, _Non-dram. Wks._ 1. 120.

[70] Overbury, ed. Morley, p. 72.

[71] _Ibid._, p. 66.

[72] _Every Man in_, _Wks._ 1. 35.

2. _The Monopoly System_

Jonson’s severest satire in _The Devil is an Ass_ is directed against the projector. Through him the whole system of Monopolies is indirectly criticised. To understand the importance and timeliness of this attack, as well as the poet’s own attitude on the subject, it is necessary to give a brief historical discussion of the system as it had developed and then existed.

Royal grants with the avowed intention of instructing the English in a new industry had been made as early as the fourteenth century,[73] and the system had become gradually modified during the Tudor dynasty. In the sixteenth century a capitalist middle class rose to wealth and political influence. During the reign of Elizabeth a large part of Cecil’s energies was directed toward the economic development of the country. This was most effectually accomplished by granting patents to men who had enterprise enough to introduce a new art or manufacture, whether an importation from a foreign country or their own invention. The capitalist was encouraged to make this attempt by the grant of special privileges of manufacture for a limited period.[74] The condition of monopoly did not belong to the mediaeval system, but was first introduced under Elizabeth. So far the system had its economic justification, but unfortunately it did not stop here. Abuses began to creep in. Not only the manufacture, but the exclusive trade in certain articles, was given over to grantees, and commodities of the most common utility were ‘ingrossed into the hands of these blood-suckers of the commonwealth.[75] A remonstrance of Parliament was made to Elizabeth in 1597, and again in 1601, and in consequence the Queen thought best to promise the annulling of all monopolies then existing, a promise which she in large measure fulfilled. But the immense growth of commerce under Elizabeth made it necessary for her successor, James I., to establish a system of delegation, and he accordingly adapted the system of granting patents to the existing needs.[76] Many new monopolies were granted during the early years of his reign, but in 1607 Parliament again protested, and he followed Elizabeth’s example by revoking them all. After the suspension of Parliamentary government in 1614 the system grew up again, and the old abuses became more obnoxious than ever. In 1621 Parliament addressed a second remonstrance to James. The king professed ignorance, but promised redress, and in 1624 all the existing monopolies were abolished by the Statute 21 James I. c. 3. In Parliament’s address to James ‘the tender point of prerogative’ was not disturbed, and it was contrived that all the blame and punishment should fall on the patentees.[77]

Of all the patents granted during this time, that which seems to have most attracted the attention of the dramatists was one for draining the Fens of Lincolnshire. Similar projects had frequently been attempted during the sixteenth century. In the list of patents before 1597, catalogued by Hulme, seven deal with water drainage in some form or other. The low lands on the east coast of England are exposed to inundation.[78] During the Roman occupation large embankments had been built, and during the Middle Ages these had been kept up partly through a commission appointed by the Crown, and partly through the efforts of the monasteries at Ramsey and Crowland. After the dissolution of these monasteries it became necessary to take up anew the work of reclaiming the fen-land. An abortive attempt by the Earl of Lincoln had already been made when the Statute 43 Eliz. c. 10. 11. was passed in the year 1601. This made legal the action of projectors in the recovery of marsh land. Many difficulties, however, such as lack of funds and opposition on the part of the inhabitants and neighbors of the fens, still stood in their way. In 1605 Sir John Popham and Sir Thomas Fleming headed a company which undertook to drain the Great Level of the Cambridgeshire fens, consisting of more than 300,000 acres, at their own cost, on the understanding that 130,000 acres of the reclaimed land should fall to their share. The project was a complete failure. Another statute granting a patent for draining the fens is found in the seventh year of Jac. I. c. 20, and the attempt was renewed from time to time throughout the reigns of James and Charles I. It was not, however, until the Restoration that these efforts were finally crowned with success.

When the remonstrance was made to James in 1621, the object of the petitioners was gained, as we have seen, by throwing all the blame upon the patentees and projectors. Similarly, the dramatists often prefer to make their attack, not by assailing the institution of monopolies, but by ridicule of the offending subjects.[79] Two agents are regularly distinguished. There is the patentee, sometimes also called the projector, whose part it is to supply the funds for the establishment of the monopoly, and, if possible, the necessary influence at Court; and the actual projector or inventor, who undertakes to furnish his patron with various projects of his own device.

Jonson’s is probably the earliest dramatic representation of the projector. Merecraft is a swindler, pure and simple, whose schemes are directed not so much against the people whom he aims to plunder by the establishment of a monopoly as against the adventurer who furnishes the funds for putting the project into operation:

... Wee poore Gentlemen, that want acres, Must for our needs, turne fooles vp and plough _Ladies_.

Both Fitzdottrel and Lady Tailbush are drawn into these schemes so far as to part with their money. Merecraft himself pretends that he possesses sufficient influence at Court. He flatters Fitzdottrel, who is persuaded by the mere display of projects in a buckram bag, by demanding of him ‘his count’nance, t’appeare in’t to great men’ (2. 1. 39). Lady Tailbush is not so easily fooled, and Merecraft has some difficulty in persuading her of the power of his friends at Court (Act 4. Sc. 1).

Merecraft’s chief project, the recovery of the drowned lands, is also satirized by Randolph:

I have a rare device to set Dutch windmills Upon Newmarket Heath, and Salisbury Plain, To drain the fens.[80]

and in _Holland’s Leaguer_, Act 1. Sc. 5 (cited by Gifford):

Our projector Will undertake the making of bay salt, For a penny a bushel, to serve all the state; Another dreams of building waterworkes, Drying of fenns and marshes, like the Dutchmen.

In the later drama the figure of the projector appears several times, but it lacks the timeliness of Jonson’s satire, and the conception must have been largely derived from literary sources. Jonson’s influence is often apparent. In Brome’s _Court Beggar_ the patentee is Mendicant, a country gentleman who has left his rustic life and sold his property, in order to raise his state by court-suits. The projects which he presents at court are the invention of three projectors. Like Merecraft, they promise to make Mendicant a lord, and succeed only in reducing him to poverty. The character of the Court Beggar is given in these words: ‘He is a Knight that hanckers about the court ambitious to make himselfe a Lord by begging. His braine is all Projects, and his soule nothing but Court-suits. He has begun more Knavish suits at Court, then ever the Kings Taylor honestly finish’d, but never thriv’d by any: so that now hee’s almost fallen from a Palace Begger to a Spittle one’.

In the _Antipodes_ Brome introduces ‘a States-man studious for the Commonwealth, solicited by Projectors of the Country’. Brome’s list of projects (quoted in Gifford’s edition) is a broad caricature. Wilson, in the Restoration drama, produced a play called _The Projectors_, in which Jonson’s influence is apparent (see Introduction, p. lxxv).

Among the _characters_, of which the seventeenth century writers were so fond, the projector is a favorite figure. John Taylor,[81] the water-poet, furnishes us with a cartoon entitled ‘The complaint of M. Tenterhooke the _Projector_ and Sir _T_homas Dodger the Patentee’. In the rimes beneath the picture the distinction between the projector, who ‘had the Art to cheat the Common-weale’, and the patentee, who was possessed of ‘tricks and slights to pass the seale’, is brought out with especial distinctness. Samuel Butler’s character[82] of the projector is of less importance, since it was not published until 1759. The real importance of Jonson’s satire lies in the fact that it appeared in the midst of the most active discussion on the subject of monopolies. Drummond says that he was ‘accused upon’ the play, and that the King ‘desired him to conceal it’.[83] Whether the subject which gave offense was the one which we have been considering or that of witchcraft, it is, however, impossible to determine.

[73] Letters to John Kempe, 1331, Rymer’s _Foedera_; Hulme, _Law Quarterly Rev._, vol. 12.

[74] Cunningham, _Eng. Industry_,