The Northern Lass by Richard Brome

First produced: 1632

First published: 1632

Type of work: Drama

Type of plot: Comedy of manners

Time of work: Early seventeenth century

Locale: London

Principal Characters:

  • Sir Philip Luckless, an indiscreet gentleman
  • Master Tridewell, Sir Philip’s kinsman
  • Mistress Fitchow, Sir Philip’s fiancee
  • Master Widgine, her brother
  • Anvile, Widgine’s boastful tutor
  • Sir Paul Squelch, a justice and friend of Mistress Fitchow
  • Constance, the northern lass, Squelch’s niece
  • Mistress Traynwell, her governess
  • Constance Holdup, a cunning prostitute

Critique:

Richard Brome, first the servant and later the friend of Ben Jonson, wrote fifteen plays, alternating between romantic comedy and comedy of manners. THE NORTHERN LASS, catalogued in the latter group, often borders on pure farce because of its ridiculous situations and practical jokes. The plot twists and winds until it appears impossibly complicated, but Brome manipulates its several threads with great skill. The play does not concern itself very actively with social comment, though its romantic situations involve some indirect gibes at marriage customs and standards among the English upper middle class.

The Story:

Sir Philip Luckless, engaged to marry the rich widow, Mistress Fitchow, refused to listen to the protests of his companion, Master Tridewell. Tridewell insisted that the lady was too old and too domineering for the match to be successful, but his warning made no impression upon his friend and kinsman. Doubts did begin to enter the mind of Sir Philip, however, when he was presently brought face to face with Master Widgine, the foolish brother of his bride-to-be, and with Widgine’s equally foolish tutor, the braggart Anvile.

The encounter between this pair and Sir Philip was soon interrupted by the abrupt arrival of a stranger, Mistress Traynwell, who upset Sir Philip by the charge that, in marrying Mistress Fitchow, he was ignoring a prior marriage contract with a young girl under Mistress Traynwell’s care. To strengthen this accusation, the gentlewoman handed him a note signed with the single name, Constance. Sir Philip, confused, immediately thought of a prostitute named Constance Holdup, with whom he had had some previous acquaintance; he hastily assumed that Mistress Traynwell was the prostitute’s unscrupulous agent and unceremoniously dismissed her, calling her a bawd.

Meanwhile, Tridewell boldly decided to intervene in the affairs of Sir Philip by paying a visit to Mistress Fitchow. Hoping to find some way to block the impending marriage, he began to criticize the character and habits of Sir Philip; but Mistress Fitchow proved too clever to be taken in by his line of attack. Instead, she assumed an attitude of such sweet reasonableness and such devoted constancy to her lover that Tridewell, completely deceived, found himself falling in love with the woman whom he had previously scorned.

Sir Philip, still nervous from his interview with Mistress Traynwell, decided to forestall what he considered blackmail by hastening his marriage. Consequently, he took a coach to the house of his fiancee and sent in word of his desire to wed immediately. Somewhat surprised, but not unwilling, Mistress Fitchow made preparations to leave the house and join her lover in the coach. While completing her toilette she took the necessary time to inform her brother Widgine of her desire to marry him to a northern lass named Constance, the niece of Sir Paul Squelch, a well-known justice. Widgine, though he had never even heard of Constance before, became enthusiastic when he learned that the girl would receive a large dowry from her childless uncle.

The attractive subject of this conversation, the northern lass, was meanwhile being questioned by her governess, Mistress Traynwell. To the latter’s chagrin, she discovered that the young girl had mistaken flowery compliments from Sir Philip for an actual marriage proposal. As they talked, they were disturbed by an odd train of events which they eventually perceived to be a hoax planned by Pate, Sir Philip’s servant. Pate, having observed his master’s treatment of Mistress Traynwell and concluding that she was of the same ilk as Constance Holdup and therefore to be held in light regard, had prompted the boorish Anvile to call upon Mistress Traynwell and make improper advances to her. Constance and her governess, resenting the affront, tricked him into entering a closet, where they held him prisoner while awaiting the arrival of Tridewell. The latter, who thoroughly detested Anvile, beat him until he confessed not only the hoax but also Sir Philip’s hasty marriage. This news dismayed, for different reasons, both Tridewell and Constance; but Tridewell asked the women to trust him in his efforts to salvage the situation, especially since Sir Philip’s marriage would not be irrevocable until it had been consummated.

When Sir Philip and his bride returned to her house, they were greeted by Sir Paul Squelch and others. Squelch, in a peevish mood because his niece was not present, reaffirmed his intention of marrying her to Master Nonsense, a Cornish gentleman, instead of to Widgine. Disguised as masquers, Constance, Tridewell, Mistress Traynwell, and Anvile presently entered and entertained the company; after they had finished, Anvile lingered behind the others for the purpose of revealing their true identities. Learning that Constance had been present gave Sir Philip a shock; he quickly realized that it had been she, rather than Constance Holdup, who had fallen in love with him. Mistress Fitchow, so recently transformed into Lady Luckless, grew angry at Sir Philip’s obvious interest in Constance and flounced off in a huff.

A note from Constance increased Sir Philip’s feeling that his hasty marriage might have been a terrible mistake. A gleam of hope appeared, however, when he received the news, through Widgine, that Mistress Fitchow had barred her door against the bridegroom. Reacting swiftly to this information, Sir Philip and Tridewell began to confer, with the object of bringing about a divorce.

Even though Constance found Master Nonsense inarticulate and empty-headed, Squelch insisted that she yield to his suit; at Mistress Traynwell’s importunity, however, it was decided that Constance could have more time to become amenable to this courtship. Squelch demonstrated his obstinacy in still other ways. Enamored of Mistress Traynwell, he had secretly intended to make her his wife. When, however, she had the misfortune to anger him inadvertently, his pique was so great that he decided to throw his fortune away on merrymaking and self-indulgence. Because of this fit of spleen, Squelch fell victim all the more easily to a practical joke which was planned and executed with elaborate care by Tridewell and Sir Philip. It involved the justice’s deception by the prostitute, Constance Holdup, who was coached in her words and actions by the two jokesters.

While his reckless mood still prevailed, Squelch was persuaded that Constance Holdup, of whom he had been cleverly made aware, was a simple country girl who would accept his amorous advances. Installing her, soon afterward, in an inconspicuous apartment, he instructed her to assume the identity of his niece so that his visits to her would attract no comment. But Widgine, in his determination to win the real northern lass, succeeded in locating this hideaway of Constance Holdup. Since he had never seen Squelch’s niece, the real object of his search, except as a masquer, he was now convinced that his pursuit had successfully ended. The prostitute, spying unexpected dividends from this turn of the game, responded to his advances and agreed to elope with him.

Meanwhile, her irritation with Sir Philip led Mistress Fitchow to declare that she would allow him to divorce her only after Constance—whom she suspected to be the real object of his affection—was safely married to someone else. This person, she hoped, would be her own brother. She was greatly pleased, therefore, when Tridewell brought her a report that Widgine and Constance had succeeded in eloping. Not so pleased, naturally, was Squelch, who had heard the same report but who, as yet, did not realize just which Constance had flown with Widgine. Squelch took the occasion to upbraid Mistress Fitchow for being her brother’s accomplice; they occupied themselves in trading violent insults while Tridewell sought vainly to restrain them.

Squelch, disguised as a Spaniard, went to keep a previously made assignation with Constance Holdup. He still did not know that Widgine had spirited her away; least of all did he suspect that Mistress Traynwell, disguised, was waiting in her place as part of the plot to cozen him still further. By prearrangement, a constable broke in on them, arrested the supposed Spaniard and his companion, and took them to Squelch’s own house for arraignment. There the rest of their acquaintances awaited them, masked as merrymakers.

After sufficiently enjoying Squelch’s confusion, Mistress Traynwell disclosed her identity and persuaded him that she was, after all, the right mate for him. The others also unmasked and began to set straight their tangled relationships. First, Widgine purchased his freedom from Constance Holdup for a hundred pounds. Then both Sir Philip and Mistress Fitchow were surprised to learn that their marriage ceremony had been performed by a prankish impostor, rather than a licensed minister; consequently, both Sir Philip and Tridewell were free to wed the ladies of their choice.

Further Critical Evaluation of the Work:

John Addington Symonds, the Victorian critic, observed that “the cock in the fable scratched up a pearl from the dunghill, and it is possible that some ingenious student may discover pearls in what is certainly the rubbish heap of Brome’s plays.” That harsh judgment may be unfair when applied to Brome’s entire dramatic canon, but it is difficult to find much in THE NORTHERN LASS in the way of refutation. Just about everything Brome does in this early play-—his characterizations, his dramatizations of contemporary mores and manners, his satiric jabs at various human and social targets—has been done better by such contemporaries as Middleton, Dekker, and Jonson. Still, this was a popular work in its time, and the commendatory verses preceding the play (by such contemporaries as Jonson, Dekker, and Ford) testify to the esteem in which Brome was held by playwrights of very high repute indeed.

All critics agree that Brome is a skillful plotter; and it is primarily the frenetic pace of the action, as the misunderstandings multiply, that holds the reader’s interest. At one point, for instance, we have the spectacle of a false Sir Philip (actually Widgine) wooing a false northern lass (actually Constance Holdup). In addition, the activities of scheming underlings, working at various cross purposes, including Pace (Sir Philip’s man), Howdee (Mistress Fitchow’s man), Beavis (Mistress Trainwell’s man), and Anvile (Widgine’s tutor), among others, fuel the confusion even further. The numerous zig-zaggings of the action, however, may obscure the fact that even by comic standards, the chief ends to which the plot is working are precariously flimsy. The domineering and manipulative Mrs. Fitchow is hardly the type of woman who could make a man like Tridewell happy. Certainly the proposed union between the starry-eyed lovers, Sir Philip and Constance, seems to stand on not much less shaky ground. But with such an unusually complicated plot on his hands, Brome has little time to attend to the niceties of dramatic or thematic logic.

Beyond such stock comic conventions as making fun of country ignoramuses and marrying off the fool to a common prostitute, we can glimpse some of the deeper realities of contemporary life. For instance, divorce is one of the key motifs in the play. It is possible to sense Brome’s indignation with the fact that divorce (after consummation of the marriage) was all but impossible to obtain, and even if it were obtained, as Mrs. Fitchow points out, neither partner could remarry while both still lived. In the comic resolution, of course, this potentially lethal problem is solved by a convenient deus ex machina (the false priest), and peace and happiness are restored to all. But the patent improbability of this resolution is highlighted by Nonsense, who vows to make a stage play out of the events that have transpired when he gets back to Cornwall.