Your son is old enough to govern himself . . .
Knowell, Edward’s father, is unsure of what to do with his son and whether he should allow him to rule over his own life or if he should continue to try and control him. Knowell does not trust his own judgment and as such he talks with someone whom he respects, namely Justice Clement, the person who has legal power in the city where Knowell lives. Clement uses the word "govern’’ to show that Edward is mature enough and old enough to be left on his own and for his father to be assured he is doing the right thing by giving his son freedom. The word is commonly used in relation with political power or with the power owned by the King and thus, Justice Clement is also suggesting that whether Knowell wants to admit or not, he no longer has any type of power over his son.
He that is so respectless in his courses, / Oft sells his reputation at cheap market.
Jonson's famous prologue lays out his views on what a good play/poetry does: it tells it like it is, essentially. He says he will not use antiquated or silly plots, and will use real language and speak of men's real deeds. In these lines he suggests that a playwright/poet who does not respect himself or his work will sell himself short, no doubt in terms of money but also in terms of his reputation. He will not be helping himself or his audience, and history will be less inclined to remember him.
Nay, more than this, brother, if I should speak / He would be ready from the heat of humour / And over-flowing of the vapour in him, / To blow the ears of his familiars / With the false breath of telling what disgraces / And low disparagements I had put upon him.
The term "humour" is used several times in the play, this being one of the most conspicuous usages. Kitely is talking with Downright about Wellbred and suggesting it is his role as the elder brother to step in and tell Wellbred his behavior is inappropriate. Downright asks why Kitely does not do it himself, and this quote is Kitely's reply. He is essentially suggesting that Wellbred has a distinct humour that motivates him and overflows within him, and because of that Kitely already knows exactly how he will act. He knows Wellbred will become angry and prone to spreading lies about him, and Kitely certainly wants to preclude this. This quote thus articulates Jonson's comedy of humours, in which characters are driven by their excess humour and behave poorly.
Now shall I / be possess'd of all his counsels: and, by that conduit, my / young master.
Brainworm is a more complex character than he might initially appear to be. Certainly, yes, he seems to be a trickster of sorts, enjoying his machinations and his control over others. But this quote shows that there is much more to it: Brainworm has to look out for himself because he doesn't have money, property, or power, and he knows that if he throws his lot in with Edward, he is likely to be taken care of. His power over Knowell is ultimately, as Brainworm knows, false, yet he still enjoys it while it lasts.
For fear I sink! the violence of the stream / Already hath transported me so far, / That I can feel no ground at all!
Kitely is rather obnoxious and absurd, but he is still fascinating in that he is relatable to the audience/reader even if we do not wish it to be so. This is because Kitely is actually perspicacious and self-aware, knowing how his thoughts are tending and, as this quote suggests, that he has moved far from his ideal self. Yet, what makes him relatable is that he also knows he cannot stop himself. His thoughts are running away with him and he knows he's being ridiculous and unfair but it seems impossible to listen to his rational self. This no doubt seems familiar to us in that we often know our conduct or thoughts are not conducive to a happy ending yet we feel as if we cannot alter their course.
And they must come here to read / ballads, and roguery, and trash!
Downright has little patience for anything, it seems. He certainly has a legitimate reason to disapprove of his brother's behavior if it is disrupting a household, but much of Downright's complaints are similar to Knowell's in that they merely seem the ravings of one who does not like the young or the gallant or the fun-loving. In particular, he singles out "ballads" and calls them "roguery" and "trash." It's not hard to sympathize with him if he's talking about the absurd Matthew, but overall, Downright's disapproval of poetry seems unfair and representative of his own close-mindedness. Jonson ultimately makes a case for poetry, not only through the implicit condemnation of Downright and others who don't get it, but through Clement's promulgation of it at the end of the play.
You are ripe for a husband; and a minute's loss / to such an occasion is a great trespass in a wise beauty.
It is not at all surprising that patriarchal assumptions and practices rule the day in a late 16th-century play—we really should expect no less—but that does not mean a contemporary audience/reader cannot pause to inspect the unfortunate and antiquated nature of Wellbred's words here. He essentially says that Bridget is nearing her expiration point, that her goal in life is to marry and that she must take advantage of the opportunities that come her way. Edward's putative love for her seems irrelevant; she is to marry and he's better than Matthew. Bridget and Dame Kitely are only in the play to be married or get married, to be suspicious or beguiling.
O, god's precious! is this the soldier? here, take / my armour off quickly, 'twill make him swoon, I fear . . .
Clement is clearly a wise, intelligent, and professional man, but what makes him appealing beyond that is his sometimes cutting sense of humor. Here, he sees Bobadil introduced as the "soldier" he'd been somewhat apprehensive about upon announcement—enough to don his own armor—but based on Bobadil's looks alone, Clement can see that he is essentially a fake. Clement scoffs that he should take this armor off immediately since it will both be unneeded and perhaps conducive to Bobadil becoming flustered at the sight of real power. It's an amusing moment, and one that shows why Clement really is the one to puncture the inflated pride of many of these characters.
. . . you sign o' the soldier, and picture o' the poet / (but, both so false, I will not ha' you hang'd out at my door / till midnight), while we are at supper, you two shall peni- / tently fast it out in my court, without . . .
Clement resolves conflicts but also doles out appropriate punishments. Here he says that Bobadil and Matthew, the fake soldier and the fake poet, are not allowed to come in to supper because they need to meditate on their shortcomings. Clement is merciful here, not doing anything above and beyond keeping them out of a celebratory dinner, but his command is nonetheless, the audience assumes, effective. Those who create disharmony in society need to be punished so they do not continue to do so.
This night we'll dedicate to / friendship, love, and laughter.
At the end of the play Clement helps resolve the various conflicts, misunderstandings, and grievances. He punishes bad behavior and sets courses aright. And, here, in this brief quote, he articulates what really matters in life—friendship, love, and laughter. Though everyone has tendencies toward bad behavior (on account of their humours, of course), they should work to moderate those behaviors in order to promote a harmonious society. At the end of the day, Clement affirms, people really only want the same things.
