What do I want to say about John Marston’s The Malcontent
(1603, maybe 1604)? It is unusual. Marston is unusual, with a distinct poetic
and dramatic sensibility. No one else
could have written it.
The Duke of Genoa has been tossed out by an usurper, so he
infiltrates the court disguised as Malevole, the Malcontent of the title, not
exactly a courtier, not exactly a jester, but given license by the usurper. It is as if Diogenes (the dog man) was
somehow an attendant of Alexander.
PIETRO [current Duke]: Come down, thou ragged cur, and snarl here. I give thy dogged sullenness free liberty; trot about and bespurtle whom thou pleases.
MALEVOLE: I’ll come among you, you goatish-blooded toderers, as gum into taffeta, to fret, to fret. I’ll fall like a sponge into water, to suck up, to suck up. Howl again. I’ll go to church, and come to you. (I.2, 16)
A nice example of Marston’s original language, including his
taste, that Jonson mocked in The Poetaster, for obscure words with a
pleasing mouth-feel. Bespurtle. Toderers.
The latter is a bit of a mystery, but “tod” is “fox,” if that helps.
The Malcontent sometimes feels like it should be played by Groucho Marx:
BILIOSO: Out, ye cur! [again, a dog]
MALEVOLE: Only let’s hold together a firm correspondence. [the Groucho line]
BILIOSO: Out!
MALEVOLE: A mutual, friendly-reciprocal, perpetual kind of steady-unanimous-heartily-leagued –
BILISOSO: Hence, ye gross-jawed peasantly – out, go!
MALEVOLE: Adieu, pigeon-house! Thou burr that only stickest to nappy fortunes; the serpigo, the strangury, an eternal, uneffectual priapism seize thee! (II.3, 41-2)
That ends a little too obscene for a Marx Brothers joke. The Malcontent has a number of
outstanding vocabulary-expanding insult passages.
Malevole is the star part, played by Richard Burbage, Hamlet
his own self. Around the same time
Burbage was also playing the Duke in Measure for Measure, another duke
in disguise. What fun to be a theater-goer
in London in 1603. Malevole is out for
revenge, in some sense, and the restoration of his office, but the play takes a
turn at the end of Act III when rather than shoving Duke Pietro off a cliff, he
instead converts Pietro to – to what – not his cause, exactly, but to his malcontent
vision of life.
PIETRO: Lord Malevole, if this be true –
MALEVOLE: If? Come, shade thee with this disguise. If? Thou shalt handle it; he shall thank thee for killing thyself. Come, follow my directions and thou shalt see strange sleights.
PIETRO: World, whither wilt thou?
MALEVOLE: Why, to the devil. (III.v, 66-7)
Soon enough this duke is disguised as a friar (exactly
like Measure for Measure) and the two dukes in disguise scheme to disgrace
the play’s villain, The Malcontent
is a genuine revenge comedy. No one is
murdered, the adulterous wife is forgiven, and the worst characters are barely
even punished.
The Malcontent has a number of strong comic parts
with their own great bits, but I think what elevates this play is the
psychology of the Malcontent. He falls
into his disguise, into his role, too easily.
It is who he really is. Similarly
this is why Pietro is so easy to convert from enemy to ally, and for that
matter why revenge is pointless. Marston
has found language and characters that express his, or a, view of the world, a refreshed Cynicism.
I will try one more Marston play, The Dutch Courtesan,
later this spring; I hope it is at least
half as interesting, and a quarter as good.
Next up, soon I hope, is Thomas Heywood’s A Woman Killed
by Kindness (1603), which I remember as a weepy melodrama, quite
interesting as a genre example but not a great play. We’ll see.
Text and page numbers are from the New Mermaids edition.

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