“Of one so young, so rich in nature’s store,

Who could not say, ‘Tis pity she’s a whore?” (5.6.160-1).

These words, which bring the play to a close, deserve some more attention: 

First of all, we might ask ourselves whether the Cardinal’s choice of the word “pity” is appropriate.  Is pity the right word?  In my opinion, no.  Stating the phrase “’Tis pity she’s a whore,” and entitling the play so, is far too simple.  Indeed, the playful rhyme of these last lines is in keeping with this notion.

As for the word “pity” itself, which gets thrown around a lot throughout the play, especially when Vasques talks about Soranzo (e.g. 4.3.131, 5.6.117)—further trivializing its significance—there are actually several alternative words used earlier in the play that might better describe what we feel.  In addition, Vasques uses pity, in these cases, as a verb (e.g. “so much I pity him” at 4.3.131).  Vasques pities Soranzo.  Notice the distinction between this “pity,” as a verb, and the Cardinal’s “’Tis pity she’s a whore,” where “pity” is used as a noun and is not really directed at Annabella at all but, rather, at the situation that her being a “whore” has created.  Further, calling Annabella a “whore” is, arguably, an unjustified and simplified remark, as Annabella never intentionally uses her sexuality to “whorish” ends.

The friar, with an, arguably, less simplistic interpretation, blames the city itself: “Parma, farewell! Would I had never known thee, / Or aught of thine!” (5.3.67-8).  Believing there is nothing he can do, the friar further leaves Giovanni “to despair” (5.3.69).  Would “’Tis pity Parma is corrupt,” or something along those lines, be more appropriate?  Or, alternatively, does simply fleeing Parma reveal the friar’s even more oversimplified take on the situation?  After all, Giovanni does experience relief through death, which he describes as “a guest long looked for” (5.6.106).  Even Soranzo claims to be “well pleased” in his death (5.6.91).

Giovanni calls Annabella and himself “traitors” (5.3.37).  In the scene with the letter on the balcony, Annabella herself describes the situation as “A wretched, woeful woman’s tragedy!” (5.1.8).  In the familiar playful fashion of the Cardinal, Annabella concludes this balcony scene with the couplet: “Thanks to the heavens, who have prolonged my breath / To this good use! Now I can welcome death” (5.1.58-9).  Does Annabella herself oversimplify the “real problem”?

Instead of thinking about what the “right” response (pity? woe? etc.) might be, maybe the better question is: what ist the “real problem” in Parma?  Is it really Annabella?  Is it the incest?  Social norms?  If possible, think back to what you felt the “real problem” might be in other revenge tragedies.  For example, The Jew of Malta ends with the strange and unfulfilling couplet delivered by Ferneze: “So, march away, and let due praise be given / Neither to fate or fortune, but to heaven” (5.5.23).  We discussed the notion that this ending falls flat and that we do not necessarily believe that all is finally well in Malta. So, was Barabas himself really the problem, or was it Malta?  Or something else?

Feel free to talk about any of the other plays we have read as well.  For example, is there something in The Spanish Tragedy, which also has a scene with a letter written in blood, that can help us make sense of ‘Tis Pity?  It may be helpful to compare these scenes side-by-side.

Bibliography

To get us started in compiling our bibliography, I'm posting Will's sources here. (Will, you're not locked into using these, of course.) As you leaf through different sources and start developing ideas / questions, please add your thoughts as comments to this post. Though the bibliography will be most useful for those of you who are writing research papers, it should still prove handy for everybody -- including those of you who are writing revenge tragedies / city comedies of your own. You might leaf through a source or two to help you think about how best to use / rework the generic conventions we've been discussing.

Beauregard, David N. “‘That Great Supremacy’: Kings and Cardinals in Kings John and Henry VIII.” Catholic Theology in Shakespeare’s Plays. Newark: Newark University of Delaware Press, 2008. 124-144.

Hamilton, Donna B. “Henry VIII: The Protestant-Catholic Court in 1613.” Shakespeare and the Politics of Protestant England. Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 1992. 163-190.

Mayer, Jean-Cristophe. “Revisiting the Reformation: Shakespeare and Fletcher’s King Henry VIII.” Shakespeare’s Hybrid Faith: History, Religion and the Stage. Early Modern Literature in History. Reading: University of Reading, 2006.

What Are Your Children Doing?

John Ford's 'Tis Pity She's a Whore contrasts the generic tragedy in more ways than one. Beginning with Giovanni's incestouous relationship with Annabella, the reader gets the sense that we are dealing with a playwright prone to opposing all that is conventional. Naturally, one might ask how this controversial subject of incest would be received at the time, as today it seems to be a taboo subject.

More specifically I was interested in the father, Florio, and his treatment of his scandalous children. Rather than presenting the typical overbearing father, who is concerned with his own financial well-being, Ford presents a father intent on allowing a certain freedom to his daughter. He outlines this very clearly in Act I when he says to Donado, "As for worldly fortune, I am, I thank my stars, blessed with enough. My care is how to match her to her liking. I would not have her marry wealth, but love, and, if she like your nephew, let him have her. Here's all that I can say" (1.3, 8-13).

It seems, from this speech, that this is the very type of father that we would have wished to see in plays such as The Merchant of Venice or The Jew of Malta, one that only wishes for the happiness of his daughter; however, it seems that Ford is criticizing this patriarchal type. This father, whose only wish is the happiness of his children, is, in the end, punished for the freedom he allows his children. In fact, his death is induced by the shock from such an unspeakable and sinful act. What is Ford's intention in constructing this seemingly good-natured father and then tearing him down in the end of the play? What does this say about the control, or lack thereof, fathers exhibit over their children? Should Florio have taken more control over his children as Donado did with Bergetto?

Other things to think about might be the way the Christian Church is conveyed, and its overall involvement with the law. Ford presents some controversial instances, such as the Cardinal pardoning Grimaldi's murder of Bergetto, and the Church seizing all the wealth of the deceased at the end of the play. Why might Ford insert these instances, and what is he inferring about the Church's involvement in the law?