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The Maid's Tragedy
Generally acknowledged to be the most powerful of Beaumont and Fletcher’s plays and frequently performed by the best actors of the seventeenth and early eighteenth century, The Maid’s Tragedy (1610-11) disappeared from the stage (except in a much-altered and very successful Victorian adaptation) until recent years, when major companies have rediscovered its appeal. In this fully annotated edition, the editor has given careful attention to the sense of the lines, the stage action and the verse. Many new emendations of textual errors, as well as improvements in stage directions and lineation, are either introduced or proposed. The introduction explores Beaumont and Fletcher’s use of the three known sources (two of them previously neglected) for incidents in the play, gives the fullest available account of its stage history, and provides a sympathetic interpretation of the play as a romantic tragedy.
212 pages, Paperback
First published June 2, 1619
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About the author
Francis Beaumont
811 books20 followersborn 1584
English poet Francis Beaumont wrote his major works, plays, including The Maid's Tragedy and The Coxcomb , with John Fletcher in the 1610s.
Francis Beaumont, a dramatist in the Renaissance theater, most famously collaborated.
A justice of the common pleas of Grace Dieu near Thringstone in Leicestershire fathered Beaumont, the son, born born at the family seat. Broadgates hall (now Pembroke College, Oxford) educated him at 13 years of age in 1597. Following the death of his father in 1598, he left university without a degree and entered the Inner Temple in London in 1600 to follow in his footsteps.
Beaumont worked not long as a lawyer, accounts suggest. He studied Ben Jonson; Michael Drayton and other dramatists also acquainted him, who decided on this passion. He apparently first composed Salmacis and Hermaphroditus in 1602. The edition of the Encyclopædia Britannica describes as "not on the whole discreditable to a lad of eighteen, fresh from the popular love-poems of Marlowe and Shakespeare, which it naturally exceeds in long-winded and fantastic diffusion of episodes and conceits."
In 1605, Beaumont commendatory verses to Volpone of Jonson. Collaboration of Beaumont perhaps began early as 1605.
They hit an obstacle early in their dramatic careers with notable failures; The children of the Blackfriars in 1607 first performed The Knight of the Burning Pestle of Beaumont; an audience rejected it, and the epistle of the publisher to the quarto of 1613 claims, failed to note "the privie mark of irony about it;" they took satire of Beaumont as old-fashioned drama. It received a lukewarm reception. In the following year of 1608, Faithful Shepherdess failed on the same stage.
In 1609, however, the two collaborated on Philaster , which the men of the king performed at the globe theater and at Blackfriars. The popular success launched two careers and sparked a new taste for comedy. John Aubrey related a mid-century anecdote; , they lived in the same house on the Bankside in Southwark, "sharing everything in the closest intimacy."
About 1613, Beaumont married Ursula Isley, daughter and co-heiress of Henry Isley of Sundridge in Kent; she bore two daughters, one posthumous. After a stroke between February and October 1613, he ably composed no more than an elegy for Lady Penelope Clifton, who died 26 October 1613.
People buried his body in Westminster abbey. People celebrated Beaumont during his lifetime and remember him today as a dramatist.
English poet Francis Beaumont wrote his major works, plays, including The Maid's Tragedy and The Coxcomb , with John Fletcher in the 1610s.
Francis Beaumont, a dramatist in the Renaissance theater, most famously collaborated.
A justice of the common pleas of Grace Dieu near Thringstone in Leicestershire fathered Beaumont, the son, born born at the family seat. Broadgates hall (now Pembroke College, Oxford) educated him at 13 years of age in 1597. Following the death of his father in 1598, he left university without a degree and entered the Inner Temple in London in 1600 to follow in his footsteps.
Beaumont worked not long as a lawyer, accounts suggest. He studied Ben Jonson; Michael Drayton and other dramatists also acquainted him, who decided on this passion. He apparently first composed Salmacis and Hermaphroditus in 1602. The edition of the Encyclopædia Britannica describes as "not on the whole discreditable to a lad of eighteen, fresh from the popular love-poems of Marlowe and Shakespeare, which it naturally exceeds in long-winded and fantastic diffusion of episodes and conceits."
In 1605, Beaumont commendatory verses to Volpone of Jonson. Collaboration of Beaumont perhaps began early as 1605.
They hit an obstacle early in their dramatic careers with notable failures; The children of the Blackfriars in 1607 first performed The Knight of the Burning Pestle of Beaumont; an audience rejected it, and the epistle of the publisher to the quarto of 1613 claims, failed to note "the privie mark of irony about it;" they took satire of Beaumont as old-fashioned drama. It received a lukewarm reception. In the following year of 1608, Faithful Shepherdess failed on the same stage.
In 1609, however, the two collaborated on Philaster , which the men of the king performed at the globe theater and at Blackfriars. The popular success launched two careers and sparked a new taste for comedy. John Aubrey related a mid-century anecdote; , they lived in the same house on the Bankside in Southwark, "sharing everything in the closest intimacy."
About 1613, Beaumont married Ursula Isley, daughter and co-heiress of Henry Isley of Sundridge in Kent; she bore two daughters, one posthumous. After a stroke between February and October 1613, he ably composed no more than an elegy for Lady Penelope Clifton, who died 26 October 1613.
People buried his body in Westminster abbey. People celebrated Beaumont during his lifetime and remember him today as a dramatist.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 33 reviews
March 30, 2025
Some English Renaissance plays resonate so deeply, so unaccountably, that it is as if they were written to be staged—not at the Globe Theater, or Blackfriars—but in my own mind and heart. Others, like The Maid’s Tragedy, strike me more as what they are—entertainments from a distant world, written in a language not quite ours, for a sensibility that bends towards our own here and there, then retreats almost to the borders of incomprehension. Is this my honor? Do they really speak that same word, love? Yes, yes—they are just people (just actors!). No, no—they are ciphers of ciphers.
I loved The Maid’s Tragedy, despite its absurdities, from the masque in Act I, which sets the play’s uncanny tone, to the erotically-charged murders and suicides that bear out its name. Evadne is an absolutely fascinating (anti-)heroine. The play makes perfectly clear, albeit perhaps in spite of itself, how little agency she has, caught between the conflicting whims and desires of powerful men. Put in one impossible position after another, at every turn she chooses to act. Unlike the men in the play, it is perfectly clear that what she is after is neither honor nor pleasure, but bare safety.
I loved The Maid’s Tragedy, despite its absurdities, from the masque in Act I, which sets the play’s uncanny tone, to the erotically-charged murders and suicides that bear out its name. Evadne is an absolutely fascinating (anti-)heroine. The play makes perfectly clear, albeit perhaps in spite of itself, how little agency she has, caught between the conflicting whims and desires of powerful men. Put in one impossible position after another, at every turn she chooses to act. Unlike the men in the play, it is perfectly clear that what she is after is neither honor nor pleasure, but bare safety.
October 15, 2023
melantius and amintor were in love and i can prove it
January 29, 2013
This tragedy is steeped in the mores of its time. Such a comment might appear to be a statement of the obvious, but whereas Shakespeare and also Webster or Jonson within the compass of the mores and customs of their time, strain at the leash by the nature of their imagination and ability, this play is practically incomprehensible without taking on board what Salvador de Madariaga in his critique of Hamlet insisted was the "the age of Spain" and the religious and social beliefs of the time. Paradoxically, the beliefs are so violently presented in this play, that the reader/viewer might find them overwheleming, exaggerated even for the time and therefore nevertheless questionable. Amintor, newly married to Evadne, after having been betroathed to Antiphila, discovers a terrible truth on his wedding night, a truth which our age might shake off as risible, but which means that his new wife denies him his husbandly rights. It emerges that the King (he is really only named "King" in this play, suggesting that this "King" with no name represents all kings) has forced the couple to marry because he wants to keep Evadne in court and continue as his "whore". Amintor's dilemma is whether in these circumstances he is justified in killing the King. This was surely the controversy of the time-is the murder of a tyrant ever permissable? It is discussed at length by Calvin in the Institutes of the Christian Religion, it was a challenge to Milton and to Hobbes. It calls to mind Cromwell's cry to Lord Fairfax-"Fairfax: The King, Oliver, the King." "If he is guilty, then sign!"
Stylistically,this play resonates with pale echoes of maybe a dozen Shakespeare plays. In fact, it is quite entertaining seeing how many references/echoes one can detect! In terms of poetry, this play gives the impression of fatique, even decadence, a poor shadow of the Elizabethans and Jacobeans who preceded this and whom the writer could not hope to equal. In terms of the politics, this melodrama is more interesting. It seems to revere contemporary social order in priciple while challenging it in practice. It is no wonder that it was prohibited by the Lord Chamberlain, Cibber suggesting because "the killing of the king while the tragical death of Charles the First was then so fresh in people's memory was an object so horribly impious for a public entertainment." Maybe, but surely also because it dramtically presents an impious abuse of power by the King, exploiting the his sujects' allegiance to break marriage oaths, fornicate, adulterate and turn love from its true course ( the true course of love here would seem to be Antiphila's love for Amintor) and leads a suject to rebel against his sovereign, Melanthius in revenge for his sister. The play is clearly aimed and consciously aimed at the impieties not only of all kings but of the King who at that time sat on the throne of England and was known for not being averse to using his preroagtives for mhis own personal cupidic ends.
It might almost be an advantage in reading or watching (when was it last staged?) this play to be unfamiliar with Shakespeare, since the aforementioned "echoes" are extremely obtrusive.
This play looks forward to French theatre, to Racine, where the intensity of the erotic and the anguish of conflicting duty is concentrated in the most intense and relentless tragedioes.
Coming just after Shakespeare and just before Racine, this play is bound to suffer by inevitable comparison. The psychology is extremely weak too, characters switching from one reaction to another with no slow transformation which one would expect in life and is shown in "Othello" which this play repeatedly and very poorly imitates. If you like melodrama though, it is well worth a read (and yes I would be interested to see how it worked on stage). There is humour and bathos in the plot, which is incredible but it terms of the issues which it confronts credible ( adramaticisation of pressing issues-tyrannicide, right or wrong, is a "fallen" woman herself "guilty" when she falls to her sovereign? There is a humorous character too, Calianax, Aspatia's father, a pusillanimous old man (Andrew Aguecheek 30 years on?) whose parting lines are drole: "I know not what the matter is, but I am grown very kind, and am friends with all of you now. You have given me that among you will kill me quickly; but I'll go home and live as long as I can."
Stylistically,this play resonates with pale echoes of maybe a dozen Shakespeare plays. In fact, it is quite entertaining seeing how many references/echoes one can detect! In terms of poetry, this play gives the impression of fatique, even decadence, a poor shadow of the Elizabethans and Jacobeans who preceded this and whom the writer could not hope to equal. In terms of the politics, this melodrama is more interesting. It seems to revere contemporary social order in priciple while challenging it in practice. It is no wonder that it was prohibited by the Lord Chamberlain, Cibber suggesting because "the killing of the king while the tragical death of Charles the First was then so fresh in people's memory was an object so horribly impious for a public entertainment." Maybe, but surely also because it dramtically presents an impious abuse of power by the King, exploiting the his sujects' allegiance to break marriage oaths, fornicate, adulterate and turn love from its true course ( the true course of love here would seem to be Antiphila's love for Amintor) and leads a suject to rebel against his sovereign, Melanthius in revenge for his sister. The play is clearly aimed and consciously aimed at the impieties not only of all kings but of the King who at that time sat on the throne of England and was known for not being averse to using his preroagtives for mhis own personal cupidic ends.
It might almost be an advantage in reading or watching (when was it last staged?) this play to be unfamiliar with Shakespeare, since the aforementioned "echoes" are extremely obtrusive.
This play looks forward to French theatre, to Racine, where the intensity of the erotic and the anguish of conflicting duty is concentrated in the most intense and relentless tragedioes.
Coming just after Shakespeare and just before Racine, this play is bound to suffer by inevitable comparison. The psychology is extremely weak too, characters switching from one reaction to another with no slow transformation which one would expect in life and is shown in "Othello" which this play repeatedly and very poorly imitates. If you like melodrama though, it is well worth a read (and yes I would be interested to see how it worked on stage). There is humour and bathos in the plot, which is incredible but it terms of the issues which it confronts credible ( adramaticisation of pressing issues-tyrannicide, right or wrong, is a "fallen" woman herself "guilty" when she falls to her sovereign? There is a humorous character too, Calianax, Aspatia's father, a pusillanimous old man (Andrew Aguecheek 30 years on?) whose parting lines are drole: "I know not what the matter is, but I am grown very kind, and am friends with all of you now. You have given me that among you will kill me quickly; but I'll go home and live as long as I can."
January 29, 2024
Melodrama sex tragedy. Regrettably it has more to say about politics than sex, and even there it's not totally a success -- for we 2000ites or for the touchy Jacobins -- since it fails to achieve the equivocation it really ought to on the subject of regicide. The language is... efficient throughout; worst when it tries, best on sex and anger. On the other hand this would be really interesting to see played as kind of a Basic Instinct type erotic thriller. It has the makings, even strip-tease and BDSM->murder scene. Certainly the last act isn't very moving, being required as it is to railroad the moral-- but I think it's made up for by the wonderful first two acts which railroad the action towards a sex scene that's sub(or per-)verted by the immorality this play on the surface wants to condemn etc.
Read in the gorgeous and nice-in-the-hand Oxford Four Sex Tragedies edition, which is edited by Martin Wiggins, who must be a damn 400 IQ genius because this is one of the best editions I don't believe I've ever had the pleasure of meeting-ed. Great notes, exactly where I wanted them, great intro. Only complaint is the \circ appearing at the end of lines instead of directly after whatever the note refers to but I'm confident it's not Marins fault he would never hurt me like that. 10/10 edition, 6.5++/10 play so solid four stars
Read in the gorgeous and nice-in-the-hand Oxford Four Sex Tragedies edition, which is edited by Martin Wiggins, who must be a damn 400 IQ genius because this is one of the best editions I don't believe I've ever had the pleasure of meeting-ed. Great notes, exactly where I wanted them, great intro. Only complaint is the \circ appearing at the end of lines instead of directly after whatever the note refers to but I'm confident it's not Marins fault he would never hurt me like that. 10/10 edition, 6.5++/10 play so solid four stars
May 25, 2025
Genuinely excellent. I was gripped and the writing was occasionally very beautiful. We stan a woman who stabs her abuser.
March 10, 2025
all of this would've been avoided if melantius and amintor just got together like they were meant to
January 7, 2020
Read this for my English Renaissance class.
November 7, 2020
*WARNING - You're about to head into Spoiler Town, please turn around if this is not your intended destination*
*Disclaimer - this is required reading for university*
Wow, it's been a LONG time since I've reviewed a book! Life, as it inevitably does, got in the way, and what better way to get out of a reading slump then with a renaissance era soap opera!
I mean.
This was literally Shakespearean style EastEnders. The amount of twists and turns his play took made me feel like I was in a maze, and like the great Bard himself, I lost count of how many bodies had piled up by the end of this play. My lecturer really wasn't wrong when he said the majority of the plays written at this time ALWAYS featured a dead body or too.
However, due to it similarities to the infamous EastEnders, the plot was therefore easy to follow and was incredibly gripping, what with its intrigues and plots and betrayals. The decision making behind the title still alludes me though - why is it the 'maid's' tragedy? There is no maid in this play that plays a pivotal role. Could it mean Aspatia or Evadne, both committing suicide thanks to Amintor? All I know is that this play is definitely a warning to women to STAY THE F**K AWAY FROM MEN BECAUSE THEY'RE BASTARDS! :D
*Disclaimer - this is required reading for university*
Wow, it's been a LONG time since I've reviewed a book! Life, as it inevitably does, got in the way, and what better way to get out of a reading slump then with a renaissance era soap opera!
I mean.
This was literally Shakespearean style EastEnders. The amount of twists and turns his play took made me feel like I was in a maze, and like the great Bard himself, I lost count of how many bodies had piled up by the end of this play. My lecturer really wasn't wrong when he said the majority of the plays written at this time ALWAYS featured a dead body or too.
However, due to it similarities to the infamous EastEnders, the plot was therefore easy to follow and was incredibly gripping, what with its intrigues and plots and betrayals. The decision making behind the title still alludes me though - why is it the 'maid's' tragedy? There is no maid in this play that plays a pivotal role. Could it mean Aspatia or Evadne, both committing suicide thanks to Amintor? All I know is that this play is definitely a warning to women to STAY THE F**K AWAY FROM MEN BECAUSE THEY'RE BASTARDS! :D
February 22, 2023
GREAT - another fabulous weirdo play- this one starts with a bang: possibly the most sex-soaked first 2-3 scenes I've ever read from this period, and a faux masque that is basically also all about prolonging a wedding night... All the find out the new bride !!!!!! SPOILERS !!!!! is already having an affair with the King. Her brother and her new husband never cooperate and the jilted lover all wander around being emo and the jilted lover's dad is a proto-Commedia funny coward. Bride is convinced to kill her lover-king, jilted comes back in drag seemingly to avenge herself but actually just to make her own ex-lover kill her, they all end up dead in a room before the new king shows up and is like- hm. Except brother. He's clearly more into his friend Amintor than his sister married to Amintor (Evadne) and that is also funny.
March 2, 2018
4.7 stars
An engaging play that subverts feminine stereotypes of the time and shows the dangers of both political and masculine power. Both primary women rise up and act in a way unexpected of them with the highlight of the play being Evadne's brutal and bloody murder of her "lover" the king. (Just how much she liked him is vague and unclear). Being a tragedy of course many other people are murdered as well. While it may not have many great philosophical insights like Shakespeare's tragedies, there is still quite a bit to hold one's interest aside from the gruesome murder of the king. I liked it.
An engaging play that subverts feminine stereotypes of the time and shows the dangers of both political and masculine power. Both primary women rise up and act in a way unexpected of them with the highlight of the play being Evadne's brutal and bloody murder of her "lover" the king. (Just how much she liked him is vague and unclear). Being a tragedy of course many other people are murdered as well. While it may not have many great philosophical insights like Shakespeare's tragedies, there is still quite a bit to hold one's interest aside from the gruesome murder of the king. I liked it.
July 3, 2024
Placeholder for The Maid's Tragedy altered with Other Pieces by Edmund Waller
Interesting that Edmund Waller was such a Cromwellian!
Interesting that Edmund Waller was such a Cromwellian!
November 22, 2024
this play is so weird and queer and I can’t get enough of evadne and aspatia, definitely some of the best early modern female characters I’ve ever encountered. EXCELLENCE!
November 9, 2023
'All you spirits of abused ladies, / Help me in this performance.' (Evadne, IV.i.173-4).
The Maid aggrieved, we are soon told, is Aspatia, of Rhodes. The tragedy is that she was betrothed to Amintor, a noble at court, but the King forbade the marriage, and forced him to marry Evadne, the reason why we do not learn until the wedding night. The Maid, too, then, is Evadne. But the list of aggrieved soon swallows the court.
Evadne's brother, Melantius, at victorious wars abroad, returns to find this unexpected situation on their wedding night, for which a masque is presented to the court of the Queen of the Night, Cynthia of the Moon, Neptune the sea-god, and Aeolus the Wind god. Thus, within the first Act, the scene is set for Aspatia's grievance, but beaneath is sown the sub-plot, unknown to Amintor until his wedding night, who forces a gaeity upon himself to hide the cause, but quickly seen through by his friend Melantius, brother to his friend's new wife, who forces the truth from him. Themes of classical pagan deity, honour and chivalry, and unexpected injustice due to a king's favouring set the flavour of this old chivalric tale. The light, of celebration of marriage, is immediately darkended by the masque of Night and the Moon, with angry winds (Boreas, freed from his chains, creates a storm off stage) portending the troubles to come.
Beaumont and Fletcher became renowned for their tragicomic mode in Philaster (1609), at the time when Shakespeare took up this mode of turning tragedy to comedy in his four romances, co-writing Pericles (1608), and bringing Cymbeline (1610), The Winter's Tale (1611) and The Tempest (1611) to the stage, his four most magical tales, which grew more magical with each telling. But The Maid's Tragedy does not bring about that recognition and redemption which was the essential resolution in the transformation of the romance. It is a straight tragedy. It retains its magical elements only in its classical setting, its chivalric court, its pagan deities, its presentation of masque, and its use of rhymed pentameter and of song.
But, as we have seen both in Bussy D'Amboise (Chapman, 1604), and in Shakespeare's Richard II (1595-6) that the chivalric court is an antiquated mode which can both bring wonder and consternation at its code in the whim of majesty and the ills that the divine right of kings covers over; the King favoured Bussy in that tale, and Bussy sewed mayhem and corruption in the court; Richard, so intent on favouring his young gallants, lost sight of the management of his realm, and so lost his crown. Chivalry, often presented in rhymed verse, as was Shakespeare's play throughout, was an old, obsolete mode of conducting monarchic reign and court. Being loved by the people was a better form of honour, one which Charles I did not learn this by-then thoroughly tested lesson, which Elizabeth had so artfully mastered.
Act I thus economically introduces all of its principal roles and allegiances in its antique context, sets up its overt plot and hints at a buried sub-plot, sets up the tensions at court, indicates the troubles to come, and delivers the courtly mode familiar to the Elizabethan and Jacobean theatre-goer, bedding it in the pomp of the fashionable courtly masque, in clear and trouble-free poetic lanaguage. Already we see the stagecraft of its authors, not present in Chapman's tragedy, nor language, and beautifully resplendant in Shakespeare's chivalric tale, the tragedy of Richard II. We see and read a play sitting between those two extremes. Thus we gauge the correspondences and differences in the genre and across the diversity of plays of early modern drama.
The turn in Act 2 reveals the reason why the King has forced Amintor to marry Evadne, with whom he has had an affair. Evadne therefore refuses to lie with Amintor on her wedding night, but they make a pact to show that all is well before the court. Yet now are there three aggrieved people, with Aspatia's father making a fourth. And the King's lust behind it all, ruining the natural workings of his court. All of this is couched within the rather fustian language of the expectations of the services of the wedding night, amidst the nods-and-winks of the expected male privilege suffered by the loyal and patient maid - denied to all concerned, as Evadne stands on her honour. Amintor is thus twice denied, of his Aspatia, and now his Evadne. And all because of a King's whim. Idle sport breeds a troubled court.
By the end of Act 3 Melantius knows the cause of Amintor's misery and confronts Evadne in Act IV. Evadne, caught in such a compromise with a king, bends to her brother's anger and confirms the secret, and Melantius avows revenge. In a risky venture, Melantius plans with Calianax, Aspatia's father and keeper of the King's fort, to secure the fort in advance of his revenge - quite why, we know not, except somehow to aid his escape. But there is a flaw in this pact. First, we are told (II.ii) that Calianax has in the past been at odds with Melantius, though not why. His antipathy should more be disposed towards Amintor, who was betrothed to his daughter, not to Melantius, or towards the King, who has aggrieved his daughter, and thus him, if he but knew. But he takes against Melantius (III.ii) - on insufficient grounds - and so informs the King of Melantius's intended treachery. The latter would be enough for him to stand against Melantius, but he is already set against him.
Thus, the internal logic is weak and doesn’t stand the test of scrutiny. Even when he has told the King, and the King questioned Melantius of his intent, the King does not believe him over Melantius, and Melantius has used his credit to discredit the old man, making him seem a raving old fool. Thus commences Melatius's deceit. But all of this is too tricky, too clever, and not really credible. It muddies an otherwise straightforward play with clear morals and failings, and clear lines of honour and dishonour. Melantius has now dishonoured himself, in using his power over the old man. Perhaps this is the key disquisition of the play, the precariousness of honour, for, as Amintor declares:
'The thing that we call honour bears us all / Headlong unto sin, and yet itself is nothing.' (IV.ii.318-9).
But it is a moral out of nowhere, a sudden blandishment borne out of confusion. Consider Falstaff's disquisition on 'honour' in Henry IV Part 1 (1596-7, V,i,130-142). It stands alone in defiance of 'but a word', a mere abstract concept, complete in its logic, amid the chaos of battle. Amintor's judgement is but a passing phrase, and holds no water in its context. At its simplest logic, corruption in court breeds further corruption, until that corruption is rooted out. Melantius appoints himself that honour, in defence of his sister's and friend's. Yet he must corrupt himself before the King in the eyes of Calianax in order to expedite it. Thus, his honour is spent as cheaply as Amintor dismisses it and Falstaff disproves it.
Thus, the play borrows from greater disquisitions, and even includes a replica of Hamlet's prevarications over the praying Claudius, when Evadne hovers over the sleeping King, intent on ending him (V.ii.17-24). Its logic is tenuous, borne by greater works, but has little of the reasoning of them. The frown that started with Calianax's antipathy towards Melantius deepens as the plot proceeds. The play commences with such craft, yet develops with dubious, borrowed logic.
What saves it, despite its melodramatic end, is its language, particularly its swathes of clarity, evidenced by Evadne's speech over the doomed King (V,ii). Such a scene is credible and serves both her character and the play well, because Beaumont and Fletcher have spent care on this scene. What follows, however, is a piling up of suprises and disasters, the wronged all dying in melodramatic madness, despite the reprieve of the new King. It would not be a tragedy if it were not so, but I cannot help believing that an ending which saw one key death, but saved the original wronged couple, would be a far better resolution than the litany of needless deaths which follow.
If the untimely deaths of Lear and Cordelia - indeed, the entire line of Lear, but most particularly those two - make of that play as bleak a tragedy as you will experience, those of the three originally wronged in The Maid's Tragedy do not sum up to anywhere near the same experience. Seeing one go - with nowhere else but to go - would have sufficed. The brief line of redemption that the tragicomedy offers - allowing Aspatia to recover and live with Amintor, for example - would have made this a far better play, despite its occasional implausible logic. Perhaps - I have yet to discover - this is why Beaumont and Fletcher were favoured more for their tragicomedies than tragedies, for the balance that they bring.
The Maid aggrieved, we are soon told, is Aspatia, of Rhodes. The tragedy is that she was betrothed to Amintor, a noble at court, but the King forbade the marriage, and forced him to marry Evadne, the reason why we do not learn until the wedding night. The Maid, too, then, is Evadne. But the list of aggrieved soon swallows the court.
Evadne's brother, Melantius, at victorious wars abroad, returns to find this unexpected situation on their wedding night, for which a masque is presented to the court of the Queen of the Night, Cynthia of the Moon, Neptune the sea-god, and Aeolus the Wind god. Thus, within the first Act, the scene is set for Aspatia's grievance, but beaneath is sown the sub-plot, unknown to Amintor until his wedding night, who forces a gaeity upon himself to hide the cause, but quickly seen through by his friend Melantius, brother to his friend's new wife, who forces the truth from him. Themes of classical pagan deity, honour and chivalry, and unexpected injustice due to a king's favouring set the flavour of this old chivalric tale. The light, of celebration of marriage, is immediately darkended by the masque of Night and the Moon, with angry winds (Boreas, freed from his chains, creates a storm off stage) portending the troubles to come.
Beaumont and Fletcher became renowned for their tragicomic mode in Philaster (1609), at the time when Shakespeare took up this mode of turning tragedy to comedy in his four romances, co-writing Pericles (1608), and bringing Cymbeline (1610), The Winter's Tale (1611) and The Tempest (1611) to the stage, his four most magical tales, which grew more magical with each telling. But The Maid's Tragedy does not bring about that recognition and redemption which was the essential resolution in the transformation of the romance. It is a straight tragedy. It retains its magical elements only in its classical setting, its chivalric court, its pagan deities, its presentation of masque, and its use of rhymed pentameter and of song.
But, as we have seen both in Bussy D'Amboise (Chapman, 1604), and in Shakespeare's Richard II (1595-6) that the chivalric court is an antiquated mode which can both bring wonder and consternation at its code in the whim of majesty and the ills that the divine right of kings covers over; the King favoured Bussy in that tale, and Bussy sewed mayhem and corruption in the court; Richard, so intent on favouring his young gallants, lost sight of the management of his realm, and so lost his crown. Chivalry, often presented in rhymed verse, as was Shakespeare's play throughout, was an old, obsolete mode of conducting monarchic reign and court. Being loved by the people was a better form of honour, one which Charles I did not learn this by-then thoroughly tested lesson, which Elizabeth had so artfully mastered.
Act I thus economically introduces all of its principal roles and allegiances in its antique context, sets up its overt plot and hints at a buried sub-plot, sets up the tensions at court, indicates the troubles to come, and delivers the courtly mode familiar to the Elizabethan and Jacobean theatre-goer, bedding it in the pomp of the fashionable courtly masque, in clear and trouble-free poetic lanaguage. Already we see the stagecraft of its authors, not present in Chapman's tragedy, nor language, and beautifully resplendant in Shakespeare's chivalric tale, the tragedy of Richard II. We see and read a play sitting between those two extremes. Thus we gauge the correspondences and differences in the genre and across the diversity of plays of early modern drama.
The turn in Act 2 reveals the reason why the King has forced Amintor to marry Evadne, with whom he has had an affair. Evadne therefore refuses to lie with Amintor on her wedding night, but they make a pact to show that all is well before the court. Yet now are there three aggrieved people, with Aspatia's father making a fourth. And the King's lust behind it all, ruining the natural workings of his court. All of this is couched within the rather fustian language of the expectations of the services of the wedding night, amidst the nods-and-winks of the expected male privilege suffered by the loyal and patient maid - denied to all concerned, as Evadne stands on her honour. Amintor is thus twice denied, of his Aspatia, and now his Evadne. And all because of a King's whim. Idle sport breeds a troubled court.
By the end of Act 3 Melantius knows the cause of Amintor's misery and confronts Evadne in Act IV. Evadne, caught in such a compromise with a king, bends to her brother's anger and confirms the secret, and Melantius avows revenge. In a risky venture, Melantius plans with Calianax, Aspatia's father and keeper of the King's fort, to secure the fort in advance of his revenge - quite why, we know not, except somehow to aid his escape. But there is a flaw in this pact. First, we are told (II.ii) that Calianax has in the past been at odds with Melantius, though not why. His antipathy should more be disposed towards Amintor, who was betrothed to his daughter, not to Melantius, or towards the King, who has aggrieved his daughter, and thus him, if he but knew. But he takes against Melantius (III.ii) - on insufficient grounds - and so informs the King of Melantius's intended treachery. The latter would be enough for him to stand against Melantius, but he is already set against him.
Thus, the internal logic is weak and doesn’t stand the test of scrutiny. Even when he has told the King, and the King questioned Melantius of his intent, the King does not believe him over Melantius, and Melantius has used his credit to discredit the old man, making him seem a raving old fool. Thus commences Melatius's deceit. But all of this is too tricky, too clever, and not really credible. It muddies an otherwise straightforward play with clear morals and failings, and clear lines of honour and dishonour. Melantius has now dishonoured himself, in using his power over the old man. Perhaps this is the key disquisition of the play, the precariousness of honour, for, as Amintor declares:
'The thing that we call honour bears us all / Headlong unto sin, and yet itself is nothing.' (IV.ii.318-9).
But it is a moral out of nowhere, a sudden blandishment borne out of confusion. Consider Falstaff's disquisition on 'honour' in Henry IV Part 1 (1596-7, V,i,130-142). It stands alone in defiance of 'but a word', a mere abstract concept, complete in its logic, amid the chaos of battle. Amintor's judgement is but a passing phrase, and holds no water in its context. At its simplest logic, corruption in court breeds further corruption, until that corruption is rooted out. Melantius appoints himself that honour, in defence of his sister's and friend's. Yet he must corrupt himself before the King in the eyes of Calianax in order to expedite it. Thus, his honour is spent as cheaply as Amintor dismisses it and Falstaff disproves it.
Thus, the play borrows from greater disquisitions, and even includes a replica of Hamlet's prevarications over the praying Claudius, when Evadne hovers over the sleeping King, intent on ending him (V.ii.17-24). Its logic is tenuous, borne by greater works, but has little of the reasoning of them. The frown that started with Calianax's antipathy towards Melantius deepens as the plot proceeds. The play commences with such craft, yet develops with dubious, borrowed logic.
What saves it, despite its melodramatic end, is its language, particularly its swathes of clarity, evidenced by Evadne's speech over the doomed King (V,ii). Such a scene is credible and serves both her character and the play well, because Beaumont and Fletcher have spent care on this scene. What follows, however, is a piling up of suprises and disasters, the wronged all dying in melodramatic madness, despite the reprieve of the new King. It would not be a tragedy if it were not so, but I cannot help believing that an ending which saw one key death, but saved the original wronged couple, would be a far better resolution than the litany of needless deaths which follow.
If the untimely deaths of Lear and Cordelia - indeed, the entire line of Lear, but most particularly those two - make of that play as bleak a tragedy as you will experience, those of the three originally wronged in The Maid's Tragedy do not sum up to anywhere near the same experience. Seeing one go - with nowhere else but to go - would have sufficed. The brief line of redemption that the tragicomedy offers - allowing Aspatia to recover and live with Amintor, for example - would have made this a far better play, despite its occasional implausible logic. Perhaps - I have yet to discover - this is why Beaumont and Fletcher were favoured more for their tragicomedies than tragedies, for the balance that they bring.
March 21, 2024
3.5 stars.
I really liked this play because the women took an active role in seizing their revenge. Evadne killed the King for robbing her of honor, and Aspatia beat up Amintor to get him to take her request to duel seriously. Of course, the ending was like most revenge tragedies, but I didn’t expect anything less.
Amintor and Melantius’ relationship surprised me. Melantius chose him over his own sister, and then proceeded to conduct his entire revenge around Amintor’s rage and grief. He even said, “Who can see him thus, and not swear vengeance?” It gives off the vibes of ‘how can I know him and not love him’. Though Amintor died in grief and guilt for Aspatia and Evadne, his final words were to Melantius: “…let me give up my soul into thy bosom.” It was clear their relationship was far more intimate than friends, but they were too dumb to understand the weight of it.
I really liked this play because the women took an active role in seizing their revenge. Evadne killed the King for robbing her of honor, and Aspatia beat up Amintor to get him to take her request to duel seriously. Of course, the ending was like most revenge tragedies, but I didn’t expect anything less.
Amintor and Melantius’ relationship surprised me. Melantius chose him over his own sister, and then proceeded to conduct his entire revenge around Amintor’s rage and grief. He even said, “Who can see him thus, and not swear vengeance?” It gives off the vibes of ‘how can I know him and not love him’. Though Amintor died in grief and guilt for Aspatia and Evadne, his final words were to Melantius: “…let me give up my soul into thy bosom.” It was clear their relationship was far more intimate than friends, but they were too dumb to understand the weight of it.
March 20, 2024
This is my favorite revenge tragedy I’ve read. Had very dynamic female characters for its time and I enjoyed their agency (something that had been lacking in all other revenge stories of this time). Incredibly witty/ tongue in cheek dialogue.
November 12, 2020
I recommend this play for anyone who is a fan of Tartuffe or Shakespeare.
Read
May 5, 2021read this for my acting exam so i’m not rating it
March 22, 2024
Really strong emotional revenge at the end of the play, but the middle really lost me (and the old dude was so annoying). Loved the queer undertones
May 6, 2024
Okay: third time of reading this, and it just gets better and better.
What is now absolutely clear to me is how scared of the King everyone in the court in this play is: I mean, bricking it. To stand up against the King is literally the most terrifying thing they can imagine. Melantius is different, because he has returned from wars, and can see that the king is basically an arsehole, not all-powerful, but all those people who have compromised with the King so far are terrified. I understand Boris Johnson's cabinet meetings, and Vladimir Putin's, were a bit like that.
But of the early modern playwrights, Fletcher really knew how to write sexy scenes: I mean, transgressively sexy, but so charged.
And Melantius is so in love with Amintor: when he's dying, Melantius hardly notices his sister dead and covered in blood, and his last line is saying he's going to starve himself because life without Amintor simply ain't worth it.
Ooh this is a good play.
The Maid's Tragedy: oh my oh my.
If you ever want to know what can go wrong with a sex-game involving knives, this is probably the play for you.
One of those Jacobean plays with a wedding-night scene to remember. Possibly not for the reasons you're hoping.
What is now absolutely clear to me is how scared of the King everyone in the court in this play is: I mean, bricking it. To stand up against the King is literally the most terrifying thing they can imagine. Melantius is different, because he has returned from wars, and can see that the king is basically an arsehole, not all-powerful, but all those people who have compromised with the King so far are terrified. I understand Boris Johnson's cabinet meetings, and Vladimir Putin's, were a bit like that.
But of the early modern playwrights, Fletcher really knew how to write sexy scenes: I mean, transgressively sexy, but so charged.
And Melantius is so in love with Amintor: when he's dying, Melantius hardly notices his sister dead and covered in blood, and his last line is saying he's going to starve himself because life without Amintor simply ain't worth it.
Ooh this is a good play.
The Maid's Tragedy: oh my oh my.
If you ever want to know what can go wrong with a sex-game involving knives, this is probably the play for you.
One of those Jacobean plays with a wedding-night scene to remember. Possibly not for the reasons you're hoping.
Read
January 27, 2019A merciless, horrifying, humiliating, glaring English play of roughly 1604 (this cheapo Dodo Press edition has no introduction & zero notes). It may be the most patriarchal literary work ever written, yet its logic requires the tragical heroine, Evadne (a lovely name) to slaughter the King – her lover – after tying him to the bed, right on stage. While he begs for mercy! (The King, incidentally, is nameless. All this takes place in ancient Rhodes!)
If only women were allowed to enjoy sexuality, Western civilization would have been absolutely delightful.
(Incidentally, reading Beaumont & Fletcher makes one recognize the kilowatt-power of Shakespeare. Their prose – and poetry – is as flat as a Minnesota waffle. Opening at random:
My lord the King, my Lord; he sleeps
As if he meant to wake no more, my Lord;
Is he not dead already? Sir, my Lord.
It sounds like Shakespeare when he was 11. (That’s Evadne preparing to murder her royal boyfriend.))
If only women were allowed to enjoy sexuality, Western civilization would have been absolutely delightful.
(Incidentally, reading Beaumont & Fletcher makes one recognize the kilowatt-power of Shakespeare. Their prose – and poetry – is as flat as a Minnesota waffle. Opening at random:
My lord the King, my Lord; he sleeps
As if he meant to wake no more, my Lord;
Is he not dead already? Sir, my Lord.
It sounds like Shakespeare when he was 11. (That’s Evadne preparing to murder her royal boyfriend.))
January 13, 2014
The women of Beaumont and Fletcher’s unforgettable play bear the consequences of the scheming men around them. The power of true love falters when the King of Rhodes asks the noble Amintor to marry Evadne instead of his beloved Aspatia. When the lascivious reason for the King’s request comes to light, Amintor plots his revenge. But, blood will have blood, and one murder quickly multiplies into a bloodbath.
Come see it live onstage at the American Shakespeare Center's Blackfriars Playhouse in Staunton, VA.
ASC's The Maid's Tragedy
Come see it live onstage at the American Shakespeare Center's Blackfriars Playhouse in Staunton, VA.
ASC's The Maid's Tragedy
July 11, 2015
Intente considerar el contexto histórico de la obra, ya que se considera que la trama es original entre las típicas obras de la época isabelina, y algunos críticos consideran que The Maid’s Tragedy es la primera en introducir el romance en la tragedia de venganza.
Personalmente creo que los autores hicieron la elección de representar a las mujeres como meros objetos, los personajes en general son dolorosamente unidimensionales y la trama se desenvuelve de manera poco dinámica.
Personalmente creo que los autores hicieron la elección de representar a las mujeres como meros objetos, los personajes en general son dolorosamente unidimensionales y la trama se desenvuelve de manera poco dinámica.
February 2, 2008
The style of this early 17th-century play is strikingly similar to Shakespeare - it's full of beautiful poetry and also has a daring plot. I'd definitely recommend it to anybody who likes reading old dramas. Now I'd really like to see it on stage.
November 17, 2013
Sometimes I just need to read a bloody, revenge tragedy to break up the monotony. Sadly, this page is rarely staged or even discussed, which is a crime since it is equal parts bawdy and bloody. With the girls doing most of the dirty work which is rare in the genre.
September 1, 2016
Not one of Beaumont and Fletcher's best. I found the characters flat and the mix of comedy and tragedy to be off (and I'm someone who normally loves the period's propensity to stick comic characters in the middle of the most tragic of scenes).
July 13, 2016
Not the greatest play but there is a woman who ties a man up in bed and murders him and another who disguises herself as a boy and forces her ex-fiancé to fight her, so John and Francis can have two stars for not writing early modern manic pixie dream girls.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 24, 2025
A stonkingly good play, one of B&F's best, though with some very dark Jacobean themes of perversion and revenge running through it. Some of the scenes are just superb.
Reread as part of the "Wedding Season" revival of 1612-13. Funny to think this was considered suitable for young newly-weds!
Reread as part of the "Wedding Season" revival of 1612-13. Funny to think this was considered suitable for young newly-weds!
Want to read
June 18, 2012Dunn, Esther Cloudman
Eight Famous Elizabethan Plays
In compilation only.
Eight Famous Elizabethan Plays
In compilation only.
February 24, 2013
Beautiful language and a captivating tale. Almost Shakespearean in many respects. One of the greatest plays of the era.
August 2, 2015
Beaumont and Fletcher at the top of their game. What a great tragedy.
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