Though its primary function
is usually plot driven--as a source of humor and a
means to effect changes in characters through disguise
and deception—cross dressing is also a sociological
motif involving gendered play. My earlier essay on
the use of the motif in Shakespeare's plays pointed
out that cross dressing has been discussed as a symptom
of "a radical discontinuity in the meaning of the
family" (Belsey 178), as cul-tural anxiety over the
destabilization of the social hierarchy (Baker, Howard,
Garber), as the means for a woman to be assertive
without arousing hostility (Claiborne Park), and as
homoerotic arousal (Jardine). This variety of interpretations
suggests the multivoiced character of the motif, but
before approaching the subject of this essay, three
clarifica- tions are necessary at the outset.
First, no matter what is
represented on stage, the fact that boys are
actually playing cross dressing men and women is insistently
metaphorical; the literal fact of trans-vestism (that
is, the boy actor impersonating either a woman, a
woman cross dressed as a man, or a man cross dressed
as a woman, not the represented character)
is divided between the homoerotic and the blurring
of gender. On the other hand, the represented
female character who cross dresses functions literally
to relieve the boy actor, at least for a time, from
impersonating a woman. Represented characters who
cross dress may pre-sent a variety of poses, from
the misogynist mockery of the feminine to the adroitly
and openly homoerotic. In the case of the title character
of Jonson's Epicoene, the motif is utilized
as disguise intended to effect a surprise ending for
Morose and his heterosexual audience, for whom the
poet also provides the mockery of gender-blurred characters
in the personae
of the Collegiate Ladies. Thus the motif may reify
either the heterosexual or homosexual as a representation,
the interpretation of which depends entirely upon
context. That the disguise is dropped in most renaissance
plays as part of reassuring a con-ventional audience
or as part of the enactment of a process of gender
individuation (Greenblatt 92) does not invalidate
the insistent metaphor which is the ground of the
re-presentation; nor does this kind of claim account
for other uses to which poets put the motif during
this period.
Second, the transvestism
of the English renaissance theatre creates a "space
of possibility" for "structuring and confounding culture"
as well as enacting a "category crisis" which reflects
a potential destabilization of the dominant hierarchy
(Garber 16, 17). Greenblatt points out that the enactment
of such difference is an instrument to increase audience
anxiety before reifying the normative and conventional
in the play's res-olution, a pattern played out in
The Merchant of Venice, As You Like It,
and Twelfth Night; yet this cannot
account for the defiant and yet compassionate resolution
of Dek-ker's The Roaring Girl, where the mannishly
clad Moll blesses the marriage of Sebastian and Mary
Fitz-Allard and their reconciliation with their fathers,
at the same time refusing the conventional solution
for herself.
Third, Vern and Bonnie Bullough
claim that cross dressing has signified both homosexual
and heterosexual patterns at various times in history
(viii), but as I have already noted, homoerotic content
is always present on the literal level, even if submerged
and/or divided with the blurring of gender. Further,
plays of the same era may make drastically different
uses of the motif. The homoerotic overtones in the
relationship of
Orsino and Cesario in Twelfth Night, for example,
are quite different from the "most mas-culine or rather
hermaphroditical authority" of the Collegiate Ladies
and from the cross dressing of Morose's bride-to-be,
the function of which has already been noted. Shake-speare's
use of cross dressing as a device for the process
of gender individuation in the empowerment of romance
is sufficiently discussed in Greenblatt and others,
but the complexity of the motif and the variety of
dramatic uses that it has served are perhaps most
clearly displayed in Thomas Dekker's Moll and in the
various gender representations of Jonson's Epicoene.
The Roaring Girl
Any account of The Roaring
Girl must center on the title character, an "astonishing
creation" that "provides one of the period's only
clear-sighted comments on the economic pressures being
exerted on contemporary women," especially those of
the poor and middle class (Woodbridge 254-55). But
Moll is more--as a Venus who "passes through the play
in doublet and breeches" (Prologue 14-15), she is
both a participant in the stages of the plot and,
with Lord Nolan, its justice figure in the final comic
arraignment, performing the unmasking of villains,
blessing the marriage of the lovers, and reconciling
senex and son. Most important for the purposes of
this essay, she is openly defiant of dressing regulations
and proscribed "feminine" behavior; her cross dressing
is a badge of identity. Unlike the cross dressing
of Shakespeare's and other renaissance comedies, hers
is not disguise for the sake of romance; her clothing
is nominally the attire of her trade as a cutpurse,
and though nowhere might one find references to her
as a woman whose seeming masculinity derives from
bodily form rather than attire, she is physically
strong, able
to beat both the fellow in the seamster's shop and
Laxton with the rapier. Nevertheless, her identity
as a woman is never in doubt, though she refuses the
attentions of men attracted to her. She is far more
concerned with justice in gendered relationships and
in relationships involving social class than with
her own personal affairs, though she is car-ing and
loyal to those she considers friends. Most significantly,
she never drops the cross dressed stance, and unlike
other cross dressed women of the period, she is not
reconciled to the typical fate of women in comedy,
that is, acceptance of a patriarchal marriage. She
transcends both the confinements of marriage and the
role of the gull played by so many women, as seen
in her relationships with Sebastian and with the courtling,
Laxton.
Moll dallies with Sebastian,
yet clearly states at the outset of their represented
relationship that she will have nothing to do with
marriage; her interest is in helping the young man
and his true love find their way, but Sebastian "must
looke for nothing but thankes of me" (3.1.34-35)..
She loves "to lye aboth sides ath bed my selfe; and
againe ath'other side" (2.2.35-36), a speech suggesting
either that she prefers to sleep alone or at least
that her role in bed not be circumscribed by the traditional
place to which women are assigned. Also, while
she accepts the patriarchal character of marriage,
she is "too headstrong to obey" in any relationship
where "a wife . . . ought to be obedient" (36- 37).
She loves her friendship with Sebastian too much to
make him miserable. Besides, "mar-riage is but a chopping
and changing, where a maiden looses one head, and
has a worse ith place" (2.2.41-43)
Moll also pretends to dally
with Laxton, who beguiles Mistress Gallipot into thinking
she is having an affair with a gallant even as he
milks her purse, and who
privately dismisses women as "apple eaters all, deceivers
still" (3.2.249). When Moll meets him in assignation,
she roundly castigates him as one "that thinkes each
woman thy fond flexable whore, if she but cast a liberall
eye on thee" (3.1. 69-70), damning him as one that
has blasted the reputations of countless women:
How
many of our sex, by such as thou
Have
their good thoughts paid with a blasted name
That
never deserved loosly or did trip
In
path of whooredom, beyond cup and lip. (3.1.77-80)
Further, she upbraids him for those women who have
fallen as a result of the temptation offered in the
name of social class and influence:
In
thee I defye all men, their worst hates,
And
their best flatteries, all their golden witchcrafts,
With
which they intangle the poore spirits of fooles,
Distressed
needlewomen and trade-fallne wives.
Fish
that must needs bite, or themselves be bitten,
Such
hungry things as these may soone be tooke
With
a worme fastned on a golden hooke. (3.1.88-94)
Moll transcends gender and
class expectations in other ways as well. As interpreter
of Trap Dore's and Teare Cat's gutter language for
Lord Nolan, she moves among the various social classes
with ease, knitting differences together in a way
that surprises and delights her hearers, but the occasion
also displays old conflicts at the heart of her identity.
When Nolan asks how she knows the likes and language
of Trapdore and Teare Cat, she confesses that when
she was younger, she learned their tricks and paid
for that knowledge with her own loss of reputation.
Because of that loss, her interest now is in righting
things: "how many are whores, in small ruffes and
still lookes" and "how many chast, whose names fill
slanders bookes?" (5.1.314-15). Her experience has
further taught her to "please myself, and care not
else who love mee" (319), and thus her clothing represents
an identity earned through the pain of social and
sexual injustice. At the same time, she is not programmatic
in her choice of dress; if dressing as a bride will
advance Sebastian's hope of converting his father,
she will do it. Through all of this, her humor is
evident: when Old Wengrave finally says he's sorry
he ever condemned her, Moll laughs that the old man
"was in feare his sonne would marry mee, but never
dreamt that I would nere agree" (5.2.223-24).
Moll's cross dressing thus
represents a defiance of convention in which the homoerotic
content is ambiguously reified. She is attractive
to men because of her unconven-tionality, but
she is not attracted to any person in the play and
thus, though her role is somewhat eroticized, she
cannot be confined within the limits of the erotic.
As an empowerer, her Venerian characteristics are
evident; and though she refuses both the change of
attire and the behaviors that would signify her acceptance
of the traditional feminine role, she empowers the
normative solution for others and thus only minimally
threatens the patriarchal hierarchy of values. Nevertheless,
she is a liberator of women who works not as a goddess
(though she generally sees through the deceptions
and traps laid in her way with an almost ominiscient
prescience) but as one who cleverly outwits the unjust
with their own deceptions, practicing deceptions of
her own to advance the justice she in-tends (see Appendix
A). Laxton's deceptions, for example, are utilized
to expose the cruelty of using women for sexual purposes.
Moll is, in a word, a being liberated far beyond even
a Rosalind or Viola, one who despite her erotic attractiveness
refuses gendercategorization altogether, because she
pursues a higher justice regarding the relationships
of the sexes and of social class.
Epicoene
Ben Jonson's Epicoene
utilizes cross dressing in a way that differs
dramatically from both the Shakespearean model of
disguise and Dekker's model of liberation. Here, the
poet develops a burlesque scenario: Morose, a character
obsessed with silence and with marrying a silent woman
to provide himself with heirs as a means to disinherit
his nephew, falls into his nephew's trap by marrying
such a woman, who proves first to be stereotypically
talkative and is later revealed to be a man. Cross
dressing here functions as a homoerotic motif only
in exposure—and even then it is turned, as a surprise
ending, to signify relief from female chatter and
the empowerment of Dauphine. Up to that point, Epicoene,
whose name means "androgynous" (Woodbridge 181), functions
primarily to comically reify the stereotypes men have
traditionally believed concerning women: that they
are neither obedient nor quiet, that the whole purpose
of the talkative woman is to dominate males. Despite
its dominant pattern of the clever youth outwitting
a villainous senex in a plot involving male empowerment,
the play is essentially a valorization of mis-ogyny1
in which Epicoene's cross dressing merely affirms
the opinions more completely reified in Mistress Otter,
a dominatrix who must be brought to heel with Morose's
sword. Misogyny is also implicit in the "masculine
or rather hermaphroditical authority" of the Collegiate
Ladies (1.1.74-76), and in Truewit's declamations
on and advice to women.
It should be noted that,
though the secret of Epicoene's identity is a textual
necessity at least until the moment of exposure, a
director might influence the audience's perceptions
either through partial exposure (supposing an unusually
robust Epicoene, whose wig occasionally slips off)
for the sake of increased laughter, as well as through
complete concealment. The character herself implies
at least a partial exposure through the meaning of
her name and through Dauphine's admission to Clerimont
that all is not what it seems: "this gentlewoman was
lodg'd here by me o' purpose, and to be put upon my
uncle, hath profess'd this obstinate silence for my
sake" (2.4.35-38).
This guessing game is complicated
when the "silent woman" becomes talkative, the point
at which Morose accuses her of being "Penthesilea,
a Semiramis" (3.4.51-52)—Amazonian (lesbian) or masculine
and perverse (n. 51-52). She is castigated for "Ama-zoian
impudence" when she later crosses him, a point that
highlights Morose's misogyny and the peculiarity that
a secretly cross dressed man should as a woman embody
either the lesbian or the masculine woman.
The truly mannish women of
the play, the Collegiate Ladies, are immediately seen
as repulsive to the men, yet they also serve the function
of a female chorus, first as oglers of Dauphine, backstabbing
each other in their pursuit of him. Their aggressiveness
is dismissed by Clerimont when he says that he "would
not give a fly's leg . . . against all the women's
reputations here" (5.2.68-69). Later, they appear
as the choral mockers of Morose's impotence, adding
to his chagrin when Mistress Otter suggests that the
women might search him to prove that he is impotent.
As women, their assertive qualities are connected
to sexual desire in a way that reduces the openness
Moll had spoken of to the claim that "all their actions
are governed by crude opinion, without reason or cause"(4.6.56-57).
Finally, in the scene of
exposure and recognition, the device of transvestism
is also clearly exposed for the first time. After
exposure, Epicoene is now himself, "a gentleman's
son" that Dauphine has raised "this half year at my
great charges" (5.4.183-84), yet one who again has
no voice, no clear identity as the play ends. The
device has been used to put money into the hands of
Dauphine, utilizing behaviors repugnant to the mis-ogynist
to reify male stereotypes concerning women as a means
to drive Morose insane. In this play, then, cross
dressing functions on the representative level to
engage a presum-ably male heterosexual and yet misogynistic
audience, deflating their presumptions when the woman
is in fact revealed to be a man and simultaneously
fulfilling their desire to be freed of the chattering
dominatrix. Represented homerotic content is briefly
revealed and contextually turned to other purposes
when Dauphine lifts Epicoene's periwig, but the useof
cross dressing does not, as in The Roaring Girl,
represent a deliberate (if somewhat mitigated) challenge
to traditional categories. Nor does it, as in Shakespeare's
plays, serve the function of advancing either individuation
or a romantic resolution.
Conclusion
The Roaring Girl and
Epicoene reveal two uses of the cross dressing
motif which are dramatically different from the sexual
sub-text and process of individuation enacted in Shakespeare's
comedies utilizing the motif. Dekker's Moll is represented
as a woman whose cross dressing is the clear signifier
that she will not be assimilated in the normative
hierarchy either as wife or female gull; nor may she
be fixed as representative only of one social class,
for she moves freely and familiarly among lords, shop
keepers, and street people. Though somewhat eroticized
as a woman in terms of male sexual fascin-ation for
her and in the tenderness of her affections for Sebastian
(even as she refuses him), she also affirms the masculine
both in her dress and her ability to beat men with
a rapier;
yet she neither clearly negates the type of the lesbian
nor affirms the heterosexual. Rather, she is a firm
spokeswoman for women's rights while at the same time
affirming the goodness of hetersexual love.
Epicoene, on the other
hand, utilizes cross dressing and the representation
of mannish women to present an essentially misogynist
drama in which the stereotypical faults of women are
excoriated as a source of humor. As a represented
character, Epicoene serves as the means to empower
Dauphine in the pursuit of his inheritance: Morose
is first lured to her by her silence and, after the
wedding, frustrated to the point of madness by her
talkativeness and domination of his household. Morose's
madness allows Dauphine to propose a solution involving
his own empowerment: once the documents reinheriting
him are signed, he exposes the bride's cross dressing
as the way that Morose might be delivered from the
marriage. In this context, homoerotic content is present
only in the exposure of Epicoene, and here serves
to surprise and instantly fulfill the hopes of Morose
(even as he gives in to his nephew) and the misogynist
audience, whose arousal has been accomplished by reifying
male stereotypes about women not only through Epi-
coene's behavior, but through the actions of the dominatrix,
Mistress Otter, and the repul-siveness of the Collegiate
Ladies.
Appendix A: Traps and Deceptions in The Roaring
Girl.
1. Mary Fitz-Allard in disguise as a seamstress.
2. Sebastian plans to use Moll to force his father
to let him marry Mary Fitz-Allard.
3. Old Wengrave hires Trapdore to snare Moll and
foil his son's apparent intention to
marry her.
4. Openwork deceives Goshawk by claiming to be cozening
his wife and engaging in "forraine wenching" (2.1.274-75)
5. Laxton dallies with Mistress Gallipot to soak
her for money.
6. Mrs. Gallipot tries to deceive her husband in
order to get money for Laxton.
7. Sebastian, knowing his father is overhearing him,
uses this to plant further deceptions in Old Wengrave's
mind.
8. Moll deceives Laxton into thinking she'll be his
whore in order to humiliate him later.
9. Knowing Trapdore to be a spy, Moll tests him and
uses him for her own purposes.
10. Old Wengrave tries to trap Moll with watch and
chain and ruff band with diamond.
11. Sebastian and Moll deceive the overhearing Old
Wengrave into thinking she is a musician demanding
payment.
12. Moll impersonates the musician to Old Wengrave.
13. After the exposure of Goshawke and Openwork,
Laxton sends Greenwit, disguised as a summoner, to
deceive Gallipot and Mistress Gallipot.
14. Trapdore and Teare-cat, disguised as soldiers,
try to hit up Lord Nolan for money; Moll exposes them.
15. Moll appears as a masked bride to drive Old Wengrave
to agree with
Sebastian's demands.
End Notes
1 The attentive reader coming
to Ben Jonson's comedies for the first time is immediately
struck by the absence of that festive and sincere love
that enlivens most of his great rival's comedies. His
women characters, far from being the clever Rosalinds
and Violas of Shakespeare's festive period, present
us with a very different description of the woman's
part. Among the court ladies, Saviolina of EMO is
a shallow and heartless hind, as are the women of Cynthia's
Revels or the famous Lady Would-be of Volpone.
Commoners fare no better: Dol Common, albeit clever,
is a prostitute whose alliances are all based squarely
on material self-interest, and the women of Bartholomew
Fair vary from Ursula, the uproarious pig-woman,
to similar spirits like Punk Alice and Joan Trash, to
the scheming Dame Purecraft and the mindless and easily
cozened London housewives, Win Littlewit and Dame Overdoo.
In the comedies
of his early and middle periods, only EMI's Mistress
Bridget, Volpone's Celia and Bartholomew Fair's
Grace Welborn retain any purity. The first of these
is uncharacterized; she is merely the object of a gull's
poetry and the young hero's love. The second is a victim,
first of her husband's jealousy, then of Volpone's attempted
rape (from which she is rescued by Bonario), and finally
of the court, where via the ma-chinations of Volpone
and Mosca she is accused of adultery by Voltore, her
husband, and Lady Would-be. Eventually, of course, she
is vindicated, though not through any will or actions
of her own; like the heroine of The Perils of Pauline,
she is paralyzed by threats, swoons in response, and
must be rescued by a male or through dumb luck. Grace
Wellborn, though shallowly mirroring her name, is a
bit more active than Celia, winning a
husband by proposing a test in which a madman determines
which of two suitors will win her.
Last among the
early and major comedies, Epicoene presents an
unusual set of women characters: the Collegiate Ladies,
a trio who "cry down or up what they like or dislike
. . . with most masculine or rather hermaphroditical
authority" (1.1.74-76); Mistress Otter, a dominatrix
whose clamoring might only be quieted with a sword;
and Epi-coene herself, a man posing as a "silent woman"
as part of Dauphine's plot to force his misanthropic
uncle to give him his inheritance. The play trades on
the stereotypical no-tion that wives are duplicitous,
disobedient, and that they talk too much, but its turning
of these conventions is complex in a plot whose dominant
motifs are the vindication of the young man's right
and the corresponding exposure and repentence of the
aging misanthrope.
Thus, one may
claim that in these plays Jonson's attitude toward women
and toward love itself varies between tepid and cold.
When love is presented sincerely, as in the cases of
Edward Knowell and Bridget, it is not developed enough
to give us a sense of its growth and passion. Generally,
however, marriage is seen as a confining institution
in which women deceive or are deceived by their husbands.
What is most interesting is that in the plays, Jonson
effectively closes us off from any deeper meditation
on the subject; there, he is like the one who adopts
countless disguises to keep others from discovering
his true persona.
Many of the
poems, however, display the genuine and the heartfelt.
Among these are the elegies for his son and daughter
(Epigrammes XXII and XLV), the epigrammes and
epistles to Mary Wroth and to other individual ladies,
the paean To Penshurst with its praise for the
pure and chaste marriage of its lord and lady, and in
the erotic vein, the var-ious songs to Celia (The
Forrest V, VI, IX). Also notable is the Epode
(Forrest XI) defining virtue in love as "a
golden chaine let downe from heaven" and "a calme, and
god-like unitie"
(lines 47, 53) unlike that kind of love which is "blinde
Desire, arm'd with bow, shaftes, and fire" (37-38)—in
which reason sleeps and the emotions swell "like a storme"
(40).
Works Cited
Belsey, Catherine. "Disrupting Sexual
Difference: Meaning and Gender in the Comedies."
Alternative Shakespeares. Ed. John Drakakis. London
and New York: Methuen, 1985.
Bullough, Vern L., and Bonnie Bullough.
Cross Dressing, Sex, and Gender.
Philadelphia: U of Pennsylvania, 1993.
Claiborne Park, Clara. "As We Like It:
How a Girl Can Be Smart and Still Popular." The
Woman's Part: Feminist Criticism of Shakespeare. Ed.
Carolyn Ruth Swift Lenz et al. Urbana and Chicago:
U of Illinois, 1983.
Dekker, Thomas. "The Roaring Girle, or
Moll Cut-Purse." Thomas Dekker: Dramatic Works.
Ed. Fredson Bowers. Cambridge: Cambridge U P, 1955.
Garber, Marjorie. Vested Interests:
Cross-Dressing & Cultural Anxiety. New York
and London: Routledge, 1992.
Greenblatt, Stephen. Shakespearean
Negotiations: The Circulation of Social Energy in
Renaissance England. Berkeley and Los Angeles:
U of California, 1988.
Howard, Jean. "Cross-dressing, The Theatre,
and Gender Struggle in Early Modern Eng- land." Shakespeare
Quarterly 39 (1988): 418-40.
Hunt, Mary Leland. Thomas Dekker: A
Study. New York: Russell & Russell, 1964.
Jonson, Ben. Epicoene, or The Silent
Woman. Ed. L. A. Beauline. Lincoln: U of Nebraska,
1966.
Woodbridge, Linda. Women and the English
Renaissance: Literature and the Nature of Womankind,
1540-1620. Urbana and Chicago: U of Illinois, 1986.
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