Summary
Act V
Scene 1
The scene is at Clement’s house, and Clement, Knowell, Kitely, Dame Kitely, Tib, Cash, Cob, and various servants are present. Clement asks the parties—Knowell, Kitely, and Dame Kitely—why they were at Cob’s house. Clement sees that Tib in particular has done nothing wrong because she did not solicit anyone coming to her house.
A servant announces that a soldier is here to see the Judge. Clement demands his armor and sword and arms himself. Bobadil and Matthew enter. Bobadil declares that he and Matthew have been wronged and beaten by Downright, a “coarse fellow about the town” (88). Clement is incredulous that this man is the “soldier,” and takes his armor off in annoyed amusement.
The servant re-enters and says there is a varlet here and two gentlemen, brought hence by Clement’s warrant. Clement is confused, but says to bring them in.
Downright, Stephen, and the disguised Brainworm appear. Stephen cries out to his uncle, and Knowell identifies him as a kinsman. Stephen complains that Downright accosted him for his cloak but he found it in the street by chance. Downright, disgusted, says he thought Stephen said he bought it.
Clement tells them to cease and asks to see the warrant. Downright admits he never saw it but allowed himself to be brought here. Clement flourishes his sword and tells Brainworm he must cut off his legs. Brainworm begs him not to. Clement shrugs and says he must cut off his legs, his ears, his nose, and his head. Then he declares Brainworm must go off to jail.
At this, Brainworm throws off his varlet’s disguise and everyone gasps. Knowell recognizes his man, and Clement laughs that he knew there must be “some device” (90) at work. Brainworm asks Knowell for patience and pardon, and Knowell gives it, but says he suspects Brainworm of “being of counsel with my son against me” (91). Brainworm admits to it, and admits to being Fitz-sword and also the form of Formal. He did this to draw Kitely away so Wellbred could take Bridget to meet Edward.
Kitely and Knowell are surprised at this revelation and Brainworm says indeed they are married and are getting ready to have their wedding supper at the Windmill. Clement smiles and says they all ought to drink to this good news. He asks the couple to be brought here. He then asks where Formal is. Brainworm tells him, and Clement admires his wit.
A servant enters and says Formal has come home. When Formal enters, Clement lightly scolds him for being drunk but the distressed Formal tells him he was made drunk and then stripped of his clothes.
Edward, Bridget, and Wellbred arrive, and Clement welcomes them and wishes them joy. Edward says humbly that they are bound to his humanity. Wellbred points to Matthew and says that he “belongs to my sister, the bride” (92). Clement asks how so, and Wellbred says he is her poet. Clement says he shall challenge him without preparation, and quotes a few lines. Wellbred says that Matthew has to have preparation, and suggests searching his pockets.
They search Matthew’s pockets and Clement laughs that Matthew “carries a whole realm, a commonwealth of paper, in ‘s hose” (93). He reads two lines and proclaims that they’re stolen.
Clement groans and asks for fire to set it all ablaze. As the flames flicker, he says that all should see “how our poet’s glory shines! Brighter and brighter!” (93). Clement says that poets are not born every year like aldermen are, and there “goes more to the making of a good / poet, than a sheriff” (93). As an aspiring poet, Edward appreciates the support for his craft, and Clement tells him he will speak to Knowell more about it.
While they are talking, Stephen asks what he shall do. Clement tells him he needs to give Downright his cloak back. He also says Cob and Tib must be reconciled; it will “be their bridal night / too. They are married anew” (94). All others, he adds, must put off their discontent.
Clement gestures to Brainworm, calling him his mistress and the focus of all of his addresses. He praises his adventures and says in the future, grandchildren will love to hear his story.
Analysis
Act Five is short, but it brings together the estranged characters, calms disputes, unmasks Brainworm, and reasserts the values of justice, harmony, and balance. Almost all of this is due to the mediation of Justice Clement, commonly viewed as a deus ex machina figure in that he resolves all the disputes and delivers rewards and punishments. Clement redeems the wrongly accused Tib, pushes her and Cob and Kitely and Dame Kitely to reconcile, punishes the false poet Matthew, forces Stephen to give Downright his cloak back, chastises Downright for letting himself be brought in without seeing the warrant, tells Knowell to give Edward the benefit of the doubt, ridicules the pompous Bobadil, and congratulates Edward and Bridget on their union.
Clement also forces Brainworm to unmask himself but instead of being upset at him, calls him a “merry knave” and laughs, “I told you there was some device!” (90). And at the very end, he says, “Here is my mistress, Brainworm! to whom all my addresses of court- / ship shall have their reference. Whose adventures, this / day, when our grandchildren shall hear to be made a fable, / I doubt not, but it shall find both spectators, and applause” (94). Critic Matthew Kendrick explains that “by making Brainworm the ‘reference’ of courtship, Clement’s remarks acknowledge the central importance of Brainworm’s labor to the events of the play. And indeed, in terms of plot development, Brainworm’s tricks have facilitated the events that lead to Clement’s intervention and the ‘friendship, love, and laughter’ that conclude the play. To this extent, Brainworm has gone from signifying the ‘diseased riot’ that threatens London social order, to being the only person capable of preserving that social order.”
In his article on the play, Lawrence A. Levin looks more closely at the character of Clement. His name, of course, refers to “clemency” or “mercy,” and he does exhibit intelligence, rationality, and a strong understanding of what his job as a man of the law entails. His “experiential understanding of other individuals enables him intuitively to diagnose their merits and defects” and “his ability to pierce disguises and deal objectively with others . . . [makes him stand] out in sharp contrast to the irrational characters around him.”
The play ends, Levin notes, “with a formal, ritualistic ceremony followed by an orderly procession off stage.” The wedding, the renewing of vows, the meted justice—all of these emphasize Jonson’s commitment to order, harmony, and balance. Levin sees Jonson claiming in this play that he is a “poet-reformer” whose attitude toward the public was different than others like Shakespeare. Poetry can instruct, uplift, and cure; bad poetry can inflict disease, misunderstanding, and corruption.
