EVERYMAN
 
 BY MONTROSE J. MOSES 
 
 CHILDREN'S BOOKS AND READING 
 HENRIK. IBSEN THE MAN AND HIS PLAYS 
 FAMOUS ACTOR FAMILIES IN AMERICA 
 LITERATURE OF THE SOUTH In preparation 
 
 EDITED BY MR. MOSES 
 
 EVERYMAN A Morality Play
 
 EVERYMAN.
 
 EVERYMAN 
 
 A Morality 
 Play 
 
 Edited with an introduction 
 notes and bibliography by 
 
 MONTROSE J. MOSES 
 
 With illustrations 
 
 NEW YORK 
 MITCHELL KENNERLEY
 
 Copyright iqo8 by 
 Mitchell Kennerley 
 
 Mjty.i 
 
 i f. r i / r
 
 To My Mother 
 
 2227549
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 EVERYMAN ...... Frontispiece 
 
 Character Group ...... 83 
 
 EVERYMAN. Commaunded I Am to Go a 
 
 Journaye ...... 95 
 
 KNOWLEGE. Everyman, I Wyll Go with The 
 
 and Be Thy Gyde . . . .109 
 
 CONFESSYON. Here Shall You Receyve That 
 
 Scourge of Me . . . . .ill 
 
 EVERYMAN. O Eternal God, O Hevenly Fygure 112 
 
 EVERYMAN. I Go before, There I Wolde Be : 
 
 God Be Our Gyde . . . .122 
 
 GOOD DEDES. Nay, Everyman, I Wyll Byde 
 
 with The 126
 
 THE PREDECESSORS OF EVERYMAN 
 
 A COMPREHENSIVE appreciation of Every- 
 man involves some knowledge of the dramatic 
 development of which it is a part. The Moral- 
 ity was no sudden form of play, sprung into exist- 
 ence; it was based upon an historic tradition of rare 
 interest, involving centuries of social progress. 
 Changes in civilization, in thought, in form, are not 
 sharply defined, but grade, one into the 
 THE other, and follow evolutionary laws. The 
 CHURCH, student of medieval literature, of the lit- 
 erature of any epoch, will find reasons 
 for the existence of a particular genre only in so 
 far as he understands the social forces that called it 
 forth. 
 
 In the early history of the drama this fact is strik- 
 ingly illustrated, since the drama became an accessory 
 of the Church, to satisfy a social want. Scholars are 
 now well agreed that the sources of the modern 
 drama are not to be found in the theatres of Greece 
 and of Rome. Mention is made of a Greek play, deal- 
 ing with the Passion of Christ, which was probably 
 written in the IVth century by St. Gregory Ndzian- 
 zen, who died A. D. 390; one Latin comedy, con- 
 structed along the lines of Plautus; and six Latin 
 comedies by Hroswitha, a nun of the Gandersheim 
 convent, Saxony. But save for the fact that Greg-
 
 2 INTRODUCTION 
 
 ory drew his form from Euripides, and Hroswitha 
 from Terence, there is little in spirit or in purpose to 
 show any deeper influence from the classic drama. 
 These plays were more on the order of the later 
 Scholar pieces which rarely reached any other atmos- 
 phere than that of the monastery. It is to the 
 Church that the modern drama owes its life, and 
 in the Church that dramatic beginnings were nur- 
 tured. 
 
 Christianity, from the first, had some vital and con- 
 flicting forces with which to contend. On the one 
 hand, there were paganism and Judaism, with their 
 countless forms and customs ; and on the other hand, 
 a people, unthinking and ignorant, who were at- 
 tracted toward the licentious amusements encour- 
 aged by paganism. Against this opposing tide, the 
 Christian Church set an art which would help allay 
 the restless ignorance of her converts. The congre- 
 gations that listened to the Latin sermon did not un- 
 derstand Latin; the Bible was not an open book to 
 them, since they could not read ; it was natural there- 
 fore that form alone became symbolical of all that 
 the priest was saying in a strange tongue. 
 
 To this new form the character of the service lent 
 itself readily. In the IVth and Vth centuries, " the 
 public worship of God assumed, if we may so speak, 
 a dramatic, theatrical character which made it at- 
 tractive and imposing to the mass of the people, who 
 were as yet incapable of worshipping God in spirit 
 and in truth." There was one underlying motif 
 throughout the service, a deep religious strain which 
 became more profound as each step in the life of
 
 INTRODUCTION 3 
 
 Christ was magnified through the desire to live again 
 the life of the Crucified. Deeper and deeper this 
 desire became, until the Divine Presence rose before 
 His people in the transubstantiation of the bread and 
 wine. An examination of the Mass will show this 
 steady increase in intensity and in dramatic content. 
 The questions of the priest and the responses of the 
 congregation made definite divisions, not unlike char- 
 acter divisions. The service was necessarily dramatic 
 since the Life was fraught with passion. 
 
 The term dramatic, applied to religious ceremony, 
 is only a term after all, inclusive in its meaning, and 
 used to impress a material fact. Man, himself made 
 after the image of God, is to his fellow men flesh 
 alone, through whose outward action the spirit be- 
 comes manifest. The religious impulse, awakened by 
 the historic fact of the life of Christ, found expres- 
 sion through action, through physical, human means. 
 
 To the people, the early Church was the home of 
 intellectual and moral training. It was well for 
 them to hear the Biblical stories ; it was better for 
 them, the clergy argued, to see the stories repre- 
 sented. During the service, the attitudes assumed 
 by the priests soon resulted in traditional poses sim- 
 ilar to those portrayed in figures on the walls of 
 the church, and by such tableau effects, the soil for 
 the drama was prepared. We read in the Ordinary 
 of the Mass : " Standing at the foot of the Altar, 
 and having bowed to the Cross or the Altar, the 
 Priest signs himself with the sign of the Cross from 
 the forehead to the breast, and says in a distinct 
 voice . . , J? Again the instructions are : " First
 
 4 INTRODUCTION 
 
 extending, then joining his hands, the Priest 
 says . . ." and so on throughout the service. 
 
 As the Church grew in power, her magnificence of 
 outward pomp soon equalled that of the State. The 
 temporal and spiritual dignitaries vied, one with the 
 other, for the ascendency. The vestments and orna- 
 ments of the Church assumed a symbolism in har- 
 mony with the symbolism of the service. The color 
 generally used was white to typify salvation. Long 
 coats richly embroidered, royal purple vestments to 
 signify a majesty above the temporal power every- 
 thing tended to supplement some part of the service 
 and to vivify the impression made upon the people. 
 
 It was the object of the early Christian Church to 
 present to the congregation pictures which would 
 illustrate the story of Christ's Life and Resurrection 
 in such a way as to be understood by the people. 
 They were simple folk, these converts of the early 
 centuries ; their great pleasure was in spectacles where 
 action alone revealed the content. A simple nature 
 is thus easily impressed, and display produces its 
 usual amount of awe. Music, costume, action, three 
 dramatic essentials, were adopted by the Church, and 
 the service became more ornate, while its spirit re- 
 mained unchanged. The people could not, as yet, 
 distinguish between the outward and the inward in- 
 terpretations. So the drama and religion co-oper- 
 ated to produce spiritual results. The one was a 
 mere element of the other, until the two spirits dra- 
 matic and religious began to struggle for ascend- 
 ency and finally separated. The Church service 
 sought expression through dramatic means. It was
 
 INTRODUCTION 5 
 
 not drama until the presence of extraneous dialogue 
 made it so. Then was it that the strictly liturgical 
 drama was evolved from and formed part of the 
 Church service. 
 
 Some writers have given as a reason for the estab- 
 lishment of Easter before Christmas that the former 
 had its counterpart in the Jewish Passover, while 
 Christmas had no corresponding fes- 
 EASTER AND tival in the calendar of the Old Tes- 
 CHRISTMAS tament faith. But certain it is that 
 
 PLAYS. the religious impulse of the early 
 Church clung at first to what in his- 
 toric time was nearest the Crucifixion and the events 
 attendant upon it. The first dramatic indications, 
 therefore, are Easter plays, based upon what are 
 commonly called tropes. These are defined by Leon 
 Gautier (Hist. Poes. Liturg. au Moyen Age: Les 
 Tropes) as new and unauthorized passages intercal- 
 ated among the words of the authentic and official 
 text, expanding the original theme, and often ex- 
 ceeding the original text in length. 1 Probably the 
 earliest trope extant was done in the Xth century by 
 Tutilon, a monk of the Swiss monastery of St. Gall.* 
 
 Space will not permit of more than a cursory ex- 
 amination of the Easter and Christmas plays. 
 Tendencies must be looked at broadly, and from the 
 mass of material those salient points must be con- 
 sidered that will best illustrate the development lead- 
 ing to Everyman. 
 
 The early Easter plays dealt with the incidents 
 
 *Gayley, Forefathers, p. IB; Chambers, II., 15; Frere, W. 
 H., The Winchester Troper.
 
 6 INTRODUCTION 
 
 centering about the Resurrection. The choir which, 
 in the Church service, had split in twain for question 
 and response, now further separated. Three person- 
 ages, representing the Marys, proceed to the altar, as 
 the symbolic grave of Christ, where they are met by 
 two figures singing : " Whom seek ye in the sepul- 
 chre, O Christians " (Quern quceritis in sepulchro, O 
 christicolce) ? The Marys answer : " Jesus of Na- 
 zareth, the crucified, O dwellers in heaven " (Jesum 
 Nazarenum crucifixum, O ccdicolai) ! And the reply 
 follows : " He is not here ; He is risen, as He has 
 prophesied ; go, proclaim that He has risen from the 
 sepulchre " (Non est hie, surrexit sicut prosdixerat; 
 ite, nuntiate quia surrexit de sepulchro). 
 
 This primitive dialogue followed directly the third 
 response given with the three lessons of the day. 
 The special significance was that the clergy intro- 
 duced extraneous material into the liturgy, accom- 
 panied by limited but definite action. This might 
 increase by means of accretion and of incorporation 
 with other dialogues, but in the germ it was the be- 
 ginning of the drama represented. 
 
 A manuscript of the Xth century, coming from 
 England, contains the following description : " While 
 the third lesson is being recited," it reads, " four 
 brethren [of the monastery] shall costume them- 
 selves, and one of these, who is to act a different 
 part from the rest, shall enter, clothed in a long, 
 white garment [alb], and, going to a position at the 
 side of the tomb [altar], shall sit there quietly, hold- 
 ing a palm-branch in his hand. And when the third 
 response has been completed, the other three shall
 
 INTRODUCTION 7 
 
 come up, dressed in long, flowing garments [copes], 
 and bearing illuminated censers in their hands [thur- 
 ibles] ; and they shall go to the tomb slowly, as if 
 looking for something. And now, when he who is 
 sitting at the tomb observes these approach ... he 
 shall begin by singing softly, ' Whom geek yeT * 
 
 Finding the linens from Christ's body, " they shall 
 put down their censers, take up the linens and spread 
 them out before the clergy, as if they wished to show 
 that the Lord had risen, and was no longer wrapped 
 in them. Having sung the antiphony, * the Lord is 
 risen from the tomb/ they shall place the linens upon 
 the altar." 
 
 This simple dialogue and action ultimately resulted 
 in the numerous Passion plays of a later date; the 
 writers seem to have been bound to the progress of 
 the Biblical text, and though certain liberties were 
 taken with the characters of Pilate, Herod, and the 
 soldiers, the plays show, above all, the hand of the 
 established ecclesiastic, rather than that of the em- 
 bryo artist. 
 
 Hence the Christmas plays illustrate better than 
 the Easter plays the development of the dramatic 
 impulse, because they allowed the ecclesiastic a freer 
 and more diversified treatment. In them are found 
 for the first time an attempt at some plot and the 
 introduction of something more human than the 
 Resurrection scene would permit. The limitations of 
 the Easter commemoration were due to the fact that 
 its subject-matter touched the most sacred point in 
 the Christian worship; for this reason, and also be- 
 cause the mystery of the Resurrection was impossible
 
 8 INTRODUCTION 
 
 to represent, there was not enough scope for dra- 
 matic action. 
 
 There is no doubt that the Christmas plays were 
 based on tropes similar in form to those of the 
 Easter plays. The question comes : " Tell us, 
 shepherds, whom seek you in the manger? " with the 
 answer : " The Saviour, who is Christ the Lord, a child 
 wrapped in swaddling-clothes, according to the word 
 of the angel." Then follows another speech, telling 
 of the birth and recalling the prophecy of Isaiah. 
 
 Reaching back into the Old Testament, and look- 
 ing upon all that occurred before the birth of Christ 
 as a preparation for His coming, the material for the 
 Christmas plays becomes centred about five main 
 topics the Magi, the Shepherds, Herod, Rachel, 
 and the Massacre of the Innocents. These were de- 
 picted in many forms, first as single actions or 
 dramas, and then they became incorporated bodily 
 with other plays. A piece, The Office of the Star, 
 given at Rouen, on the Epiphany, bears traces of two 
 plays, The Office of the Magi (Limoges, MS. XlVth 
 c.) and The Office of the Shepherds (Rouen, MS. 
 XlVth c.), and shows the beginning of that cyclic de- 
 velopment which is so well exemplified in the Pro- 
 phetes du Christ. The part these plays occupied in 
 the Church service is in many cases indicated at the 
 beginnings of the manuscripts. The directions for one 
 such piece state that on the sacred night of the birth 
 of the Lord, after the Te Deum is sung, the play of 
 The Shepherds shall begin, followed by the Mass ; the 
 directions for another that on the Epiphany, after the 
 third response, three priests of high rank, represent-
 
 INTRODUCTION 9 
 
 ing the Magi, shall come to the altar, and that after 
 the play has ended the service shall begin. 
 
 The manner in which these plays were presented 
 depended at first on what accessories the Church had 
 at hand. The star of Bethlehem was attached to a 
 cord ; the manger was built near the altar ; and a 
 statue represented the Christ. The angel who an- 
 nounced the birth was a child, suspended on a high 
 platform. The costliness of their gowns and gold 
 ornaments distinguished the Magi from the Shep- 
 herds. 
 
 The plays dealing with Herod made the material 
 freer to handle, since the dramatist here felt himself 
 dealing with an historical character rather than a 
 religious figure. The Lament of Rachel likewise was 
 treated purely from the human standpoint. In these 
 plays there is evident a nearer approach to dramatic 
 ideals, and a farther removal from the liturgical re- 
 quirements. What is most striking to the student 
 is the utter lack of any new view-point in the work- 
 ing over of old material by these writers. It never 
 seemed necessary to them to give proportion to the 
 progress of the plot; to exert much originality. 
 What was done was done, and would serve the pur- 
 pose of another writer, provided a continuous picture 
 was shown, or an uninterrupted story told. 
 
 First came The Shepherds, and then The Adoration 
 of the Magi. These were united by some new hand, 
 with a visible line of joining, and placed further 
 in a Herod drama, which in its turn led the way to 
 The Massacre of the Innocents. A manuscript of 
 the Xlth century, entitled Ordo Rachaelis, indicates
 
 10 INTRODUCTION 
 
 that the unknown author reached back to the Shep- 
 herds, the Magi, and the Herod dramas for material, 
 and, in addition, introduced a scene, new to the litur- 
 gical drama, entitled The Flight of the Holy Family. 
 
 No account of these plays would be complete with- 
 out mention of the Prophetes du Christ (Limoges, 
 MS. Xlth c.). It was the purpose of the early 
 clergy, notably in the case of St. Augustine, to show 
 that the Old Testament was but a preparation for the 
 New. The play is what its literal name implies ; 
 among the prophets, Israel, Moses, Isaiah, Jeremiah, 
 Daniel, David, Simeon, Elizabeth, John the Baptist, 
 Virgil, and Aaron, each in turn, and in answer to 
 doctrinal questions propounded, presumably by Au- 
 gustine, tells of Christ's coming. The dialogue 
 takes place in the middle of the nave of the church. 
 In one or two cases the prophets argue with Jews who 
 dispute with them. The play is based upon a sermon 
 of St. Augustine, and many smaller dramas were like- 
 wise founded upon the same subject. A Rouen manu- 
 script more developed than the Limoges manu- 
 script bears the title, Procession de VAne, and 
 shows a marked advance over any others in the intro- 
 duction of the popular characters of Nebuchadnezzar, 
 and Balaam and his ass. 
 
 The actors who presented these plays were clerics. 
 One by one, the prophets, coming from the cloister, 
 advanced, guided by two clerks of the second order. 
 In the nave was placed the throne of Nebuchadnezzar, 
 and near it a furnace, not far from which three young 
 Jews were seated. These were to await their turn to 
 be thrown into the flames for their obstinancy in not 
 believing in Nebuchadnezzar's idols. When his time
 
 INTRODUCTION 11 
 
 came, Balaam rode forth, astride an ass, which 
 stopped and refused to move, despite blows and kicks ; 
 we hear of complaints of severe treatment from the 
 man hidden in the animal's skin. Among the prophets, 
 Moses held the law and a rod in his hand; he wore 
 an alb and a cope, and had horns and a long beard. 
 Isaiah, bearded, was clad in an alb, and a red stole 
 surrounded his forehead; Aaron wore his episcopal 
 ornaments, held a flower in his hand, and was mitred 
 and bearded; Jeremiah had his sacerdotal vestments 
 and held a parchment roll; John the Baptist's feet 
 were bare, and in his hands was the text of the Evan- 
 gel. The costumes of the others were not much more 
 diversified. Each prophet, when he had finished, 
 stepped behind Nebuchadnezzar's furnace to await 
 the processional which was finally to take them all to 
 the choir. 
 
 The growth of plays by accretion, by assimilation, 
 constituted the cyclic development. The unknown 
 dramatist did not use particular plays as models, but 
 the plays themselves were taken, as we have seen, and 
 worked into the plot and progress of the story. In 
 the beginning, the Christmas dramas were simply 
 types, similar almost to the answer and response of 
 the Church service. Presented on days of great ec- 
 clesiastical importance, these pieces were subjected to 
 an atmosphere of growing magnificence. But as the 
 plays increased, textually, and had introduced into 
 them a greater number of characters, necessity 
 pushed the purely religious elements away from the 
 dramatic, and the latter being most popular, became 
 dominant. As play after play was amalgamated, 
 new points were brought in and accentuated, showing
 
 12 INTRODUCTION 
 
 a change of hand and a constructive mind behind the 
 completed work. Through a period, from 900 to 
 1200 A.D., this evolution continued. 
 
 Wilhelm Creizenach (Geschichte des Neueren 
 Dramas') summarizes the general character of the de- 
 velopment just traced. So clear and suggestive are 
 his remarks that in part they are here translated : 
 
 " We have seen that in spite of the varying char- 
 acteristics of these festivals, and of the dramas 
 that developed from them, many analogies between 
 them are apparent. Above all is evident the effort 
 to enlarge the texts more and more, at first merely 
 by means of adding, mosaic fashion, pieces from 
 the Gospels or from Church songs, but afterward 
 by including pieces, which in prose or verse were 
 especially composed for the purpose. In the verse 
 is illustrated the gradual progress of these cen- 
 turies in the art of Latin rime, and though for 
 some time, especially in plays of the Three Kings, 
 hexameter was used in addition to rime, yet the 
 ascendency was held by rhythmic poetry, which 
 was steadily growing in beauty and elaborateness. 
 Above all, a solemn and earnest tone is at the basis 
 of the dramas; though, on the other hand, there 
 are already apparent passages intended to touch 
 the emotions, as in the parts of Mary Magdalen, 
 of Herod, and of the foolish Virgins. 
 
 " The manner of representation was at first the 
 simplest imaginable. There was no attempt to go 
 further than to costume the personages of the ac- 
 tion according to their parts, by aid of the various 
 garments of the clergy. Nevertheless there also 
 appeared new requirements, as a palm-branch for
 
 INTRODUCTION 13 
 
 the angel at the grave, or crowns for the kings. 
 When, however, the devil, the soldiers of Herod, and 
 the many different characters of the Prophet play 
 appeared on the stage, a greater variety in costum- 
 ing was necessary. With the development of the 
 plays and their separation from the Church service, 
 it is probable that more care was devoted to the 
 adornment of the places where each individual 
 stood, but nevertheless it seems that people were 
 satisfied with a treatment which merely indicated 
 the places symbolically. 
 
 " It has frequently been noticed that the early 
 medieval drama in its development out of Church 
 usages offers a certain analogy to the commence- 
 ment of Greek tragedy. Yet in the very first 
 stage of the medieval drama, a mark of distinction 
 is apparent, one which ever becomes of greater sig- 
 nificance. The dramatic portrayal of events from 
 sacred history had the same aim as the paintings of 
 the church, the same aim which the English liber 
 consuetudinum connects with the ceremonial of the 
 burial of the Cross on Good Friday of strength- 
 ening the unlettered people in their belief. Such 
 representations [as the liturgical plays] can be de- 
 scribed as a sort of instruction by observation, in 
 which the people, knowing no Latin, drank in with 
 their eyes what could not come to them by merely 
 listening. . . . Since as little as possible was or could 
 be put behind the scenes, the spectator might see 
 everything, and, as it were, grasp all in hand. . . . 
 
 " There was an inconvenience connected with the 
 fact that all persons must appear and take their 
 places on the stage at the beginning of the play,
 
 14 INTRODUCTION 
 
 for it was not possible thus to produce any effect 
 of surprise by making a new personage come un- 
 expectedly into view. Hence the medieval poets 
 frequently excluded individual persons from the 
 mass of the great procession at the play's opening. 
 For instance, the composer of the French Morality 
 Charity (XVth, XVIth c. vide Petit de Julleville 
 Repertoire du theatre comique) does not bring 
 forward the terrible figure of Death at the general 
 display with which the drama begins, but waits 
 till the proper time in the course of the action. 
 Scenes like the appearance of Antichrist and of 
 King Darius, prove, however, that this effect [of 
 surprise] was made use of at a much earlier time. 
 Also in the oldest French play of Adam, the pro- 
 phets are told in the stage directions to remain 
 out of sight till the time for their Dart is at hand." 
 
 Concerning the manner in which the text of these 
 liturgical plays was delivered, M. Coussemaker has 
 collected music from these dramas, showing that most 
 of the dialogues must have been chanted or sung. 
 The music was not decorative, however much it might 
 have entered into the spirit of the play. 
 
 In the tentative period, foreshadowing that of the 
 transition and that of the XlVth and XVth centuries, 
 when the well-known Mystery cycles were in the as- 
 cendency, the student of medieval literature will meet 
 
 with great changes due to social 
 
 THE TRANSITION evolution. For instance, the 
 
 PERIOD. adoption of the vernacular was 
 
 not sudden ; it came slowly, intro- 
 duced by means of fragmentary and explanatory 
 passages in plays and sermons.
 
 INTRODUCTION 15 
 
 Starting with a purely religious motive, the drama 
 followed the lines of social development, and was af- 
 fected by social changes. The popularization of 
 plays which were religious in character, but which 
 were not religious plays, was coincident with the em- 
 phasis of a new class of people, which during the 
 Xllth, XHIth, and XlVth centuries, became a vital 
 factor in the social organism. The dramatic ele- 
 ments, at first accepted as the visible exposition of a 
 faith, and interpreted in a language unknown, save 
 in the Church, now became in themselves an end. 
 From the simplest suggestion, illustrative of a re- 
 ligious text, they developed, by enlargements and 
 additions of various kinds, into independent plays. 
 
 On the other hand, the Church had to meet a neces- 
 sity upon which her very existence was to depend. 
 The need of making herself understood by an illit- 
 erate people brought on a gradual modification in 
 the language, coincident with the introduction of the 
 dramatic elements. These elements were used through 
 necessity, but after being accepted as essential, their 
 further development became wholly independent, cor- 
 responding with the increase of the dramatic interest 
 of the people. 
 
 The few instances in which the vulgar tongue was 
 used in the liturgical drama show the stress to which 
 the clergy were put. They were either forced to meet 
 a social demand, or to relinquish one means of their 
 social influence, and while among themselves the 
 Latin language might be used, they realized that a 
 dividing line must be drawn intellectually between 
 what was intended for the Church and for the world.
 
 16 INTRODUCTION 
 
 The rise of the Scholar plays, written in the Latin 
 tongue especially for the clergy, was a partial re- 
 sult of this division. 
 
 The change in language hastened a period of tran- 
 sition in spirit, a transition from the dramatic in the 
 religious to the religious in the dramatic. The 
 Church became a prey to outside influences which 
 sought to degrade the clergy; but, attacking both 
 religious institutions and religious literature, it was 
 easier, in the end, to restore order in the Church 
 through canonical proscriptions of these extraneous 
 influences than to root out from the literature a 
 popular spirit drawn from the life of the time. 
 
 In 1125, when Abelard was offered the abbotship 
 of the monastery of St. Gildas de Ruys, in Lower 
 Brittany, it is said that he found the country wild; 
 the inhabitants half-barbarous, and speaking a lan- 
 guage unintelligible to him ; the monks violent, un- 
 ruly, and dissolute, openly living with concubines; 
 the lands of the monastery subjected to intolerable 
 burdens by the neighboring lord; and the monks in 
 poverty and discontent. " Instead of finding a home 
 of God-fearing men, eager for enlightenment, he 
 found a nest of greed and corruption." 
 
 Feudalism, the foundation of the life of the Middle 
 Ages, affected the ecclesiastical world, and class dis- 
 tinction among the clergy, as among the laity, made 
 it possible for the religious office to become one of per- 
 sonal aggrandizement, with a power which even the 
 nobles, which even the monarch himself, did not have ; 
 the spiritual power of salvation or damnation. 
 And while the heads of the Church were thus vying
 
 INTRODUCTION 17 
 
 with the temporal power, the subordinates, seeing the 
 lax condition of their religious orders, took advan- 
 tage, and, through negligence, often sank into ig- 
 norance and vice. 
 
 Elinand wrote : " Every prelate is established by 
 God, above nations and above kingdoms. From the 
 beginning, God has desired that all secular dignity 
 should be subject to ecclesiastical authority, and 
 dwell face to face with it in the relation of inferior 
 to superior, of the lowest to the highest." This was 
 the position which the Church claimed to hold, and the 
 stronger men of the clergy, fearing that their au- 
 thority was in jeopardy, soon realized the necessity 
 of checking the degradation of the priesthood. Thus 
 there arose the spirit of reform. The clergy began 
 to be condemned by the clergy; the unworthy criti- 
 cized by the worthy. Cardinal de Vitry taxed the 
 prelates because of incontinency, and added : " How 
 are we to blame the women . . . when they [the pre- 
 lates] delight themselves in the weakness of gorgeous 
 costumes. The women, at least, have for an excuse 
 to please their husbands." Another exclaimed : " See 
 how the bishops live, how they travel! Is it thus 
 that their predecessors, Peter and Paul, did? " And 
 so the more alert and the more pious began to impose 
 restrictions upon the subordinates under their charge, 
 and the seriousness of their calling began to be more 
 forcibly impressed. 
 
 The allurements of the outside world had entered 
 the cloister, and by the side of the religious and 
 scholarly spirit of the plays there slowly developed 
 coarser elements, which lightened the hours, and af-
 
 18 INTRODUCTION 
 
 forded a suspicious kind of amusement for the monks. 
 Finding that this was detracting from the Church's 
 chief object, restrictions were vigorously imposed. 
 
 From this it is readily seen what effect such condi- 
 tions must have had upon the literature of the time. 
 If the drama, which was to be used by the Church as 
 a means toward an end, was to maintain the early 
 ecclesiastical traditions, it must return to its purely 
 religious purpose, which had formerly been fostered 
 by the intensity of the religious spirit of the clergy. 
 On the other hand, social conditions had so changed 
 that the clergy found themselves confronted by ele- 
 ments which could not be consistently adopted, be- 
 cause they were fundamentally opposed to the re- 
 ligious spirit. Religious tradition and the new-born 
 individuality, therefore, contended and resulted in 
 a separation into two distinct genres of the drama, 
 one for the clergy and the other for the people. 
 
 In the long history of the Church, the Church 
 Fathers constantly opposed actors, and limited their 
 religious privileges.* They were assisting, so the 
 clergy contended, in perpetuating the very amuse- 
 ments which paganism had fostered, and which, with 
 so much difficulty, the early Church had opposed 
 and partly subdued. 
 
 In a letter of 791, Alcuin, Abbot of Tours (735?- 
 804), wrote: 
 
 " One who brings into his house actors and mimes 
 and dancers little knows how much impurity comes 
 in with them." 
 * Vide Bibliography under H. S. Symmes [French period ].
 
 INTRODUCTION 19 
 
 Agobard, Archbishop of Lyons, in 836, contrasted 
 the state of the actor with that of the poor, in this 
 manner : 
 
 " The actors, the mimes, and the deceiving and 
 infamous joculators are given money to get drunk 
 on, while the poor of the Church are dying in the 
 agonies of hunger." 
 
 The pleasures of the noble class, catered to by the 
 wandering minstrel, resulted in the neglect of the 
 poor, and became a source of constant annoyance to 
 the Church. Otto von Freisingen, a German chron- 
 icler, describes the marriage of Kaiser Heinrich II. 
 (reigned 1002-1024) in these words : 
 
 " When the royal marriage was in its due course 
 of celebration at the Castle of Ingelheim, a crowd 
 of actors and joculators flocked there, as they had 
 been accustomed to do. But the King sent them 
 away empty-handed, and distributed freely among 
 the poor what he had rescued from the servants of 
 the devil." 
 
 The Council of Aachen decreed that when priests 
 went to marriages or officiated at other social func- 
 tions, they must leave the house as soon as actors 
 (" histriones, musici, out mimi ") appeared. The 
 Fourth Lateran Council (1215), on the other hand, 
 decreed that all Christians (including the actors 
 themselves) should confess at least once a year, and
 
 20 INTRODUCTION 
 
 were there no cause for the priest to refuse, even the 
 latter might receive communion. But if this was de- 
 nied, the actor must not be allowed to enter the 
 church, nor could he thereafter be given Christian 
 burial. While the tone of opposition was strong, it 
 was only the opposition of the religious spirit of the 
 Church to a coarse and popular spirit which was be- 
 coming manifestly more imminent. Thomas Aquinas 
 (d. 1274), in his Summa Theologies, wrote: 
 
 " As has been said, the drama is necessary in 
 human society, . . . and the function of the 
 actors, which is to give recreation to mankind, is 
 neither in itself improper, nor do those persons sin 
 who exercise it with moderation in a play. How- 
 ever, they must not use forbidden words, nor depict 
 improper events, nor represent their drama at im- 
 proper times. In so far as actors observe these 
 restrictions, there is no sin in assisting them, and 
 it is only just, moreover, to pay them for their 
 services." 
 
 But the prohibition against the use of coarse 
 words, the due consideration for the content of the 
 subject, and the time and place of presentation were 
 disregarded; the decrees soon became couched in 
 stronger and more imperative language. Innocent 
 III., in 1210, issued the following: 
 
 " It is occasionally the custom to give dramatic 
 representations in the church, and not only are
 
 INTRODUCTION 21 
 
 hideous masks employed, which make a mockery of 
 the spectacle, but at some festivities the deacons, 
 priests, and sub-deacons themselves perform these 
 outrageous sports. Therefore, lest the honor of 
 the Church be stained by such iniquity, we com- 
 mand that ye shall either take heed to root out 
 from your churches that favorite custom, or see to 
 the removal of every trace of corruption in those 
 plays." 
 
 The prohibitions at first referred principally to the 
 social status of the actor; but later the attitude of 
 the Church becoming more aggressive, these prohibi- 
 tions were aimed against the presentation of the 
 drama within the church edifice, and, furthermore, 
 against the priests taking part in any presentation 
 whatsoever. 
 
 Examples of such restrictions came from the Coun- 
 cil of Treves (1227) and the Utrecht Synod (1293). 
 The former stated: 
 
 " Priests are not permitted to give dramatic rep- 
 resentations, or other plays of improper character, 
 within the church." 
 
 The latter decreed: 
 
 " We forbid that dramatic representations, 
 spectacles, and the use of masks shall take place in 
 the churches." 
 
 The restrictions have one point in common a
 
 22 INTRODUCTION 
 
 determined opposition to the coarseness and the buf- 
 foonery which had entered the liturgical drama. The 
 same spirit which emphasized the part of Balaam and 
 his ass in the Prophetes du Christ was on the alert 
 to take advantage of every opportunity that pre- 
 sented itself to increase the farce element. When 
 the prohibitions were finally enforced, the liturgical 
 drama did not leave the church, but that popular 
 part, from which the priests as actors were excluded, 
 was pushed into the open, where, in a freer atmo- 
 sphere, it readily assumed an independent and rapid 
 growth. This fact, that the church now served no 
 longer as a complete setting for the play, is one of 
 the chief characteristics of the transition period. 
 Within the sanctuary, whatever development there 
 was, discordant with the religious spirit, was neces- 
 sarily limited. But outside of the cloister, there 
 were agents in the medieval life which were influenc- 
 ing the desires of the people, and which were serving 
 as a stimulus to imagination. These elements acted 
 as a foil to ecclesiastical self-restraint. And once 
 in the churchyard, the atmosphere throughout the 
 drama changed, became freer, became more preg- 
 nant with the individuality of the people, and began 
 immediately to expand. 
 
 While the new characteristics introduced into the 
 plays were opposed to the religious spirit, and aided 
 in driving the drama into the churchyard, the clergy 
 soon saw the necessity for retaining certain details 
 of a popular nature, as essential to the Church as to 
 the dramatic representations. The drama, because 
 of its popular touches, has always appealed to the
 
 INTRODUCTION 23 
 
 more or less illiterate class. This the Church real- 
 ized, and in order to preserve her power began to 
 institute certain radical changes along lines similar 
 to the changes being made in the drama she had re- 
 lentlessly condemned. 
 
 Humor had to be introduced into the sermons in 
 order to create interest. Moreover, the priest, when 
 before his congregation, was forced to adopt some 
 means of keeping his hearers awake. One monk gave 
 as his reason for the non attention of the people, that 
 their souls were not pure. Another, in the midst of 
 his sermon, seeing tired faces and drooping eyes 
 around him, even among his brothers of the monas- 
 tery, stopped, and in a loud voice began: 
 
 " Once there was a king named Arthur." 
 
 The effect was instantaneous; heads were raised 
 and all showed themselves eager for the tale. But 
 after the cure came the priestly indignation : 
 
 " When I speak of God you sleep ; but to hear 
 fables, you keep yourselves awake." 
 
 We read of Jacques de Vitry (b. circa 1180; d. 
 circa 1240-1260), who rose to the rank of Cardinal, 
 advising the people before him to stick pins into those 
 who slept. Some priests announced at the beginning 
 of the sermon that they would be brief. In many 
 instances, the men of the congregation left before 
 the sermon, only to return when it was through. 
 The cause for this seeming lack of interest was due 
 to the fact that the congregation at first was not
 
 24. INTRODUCTION 
 
 considered a vital participant in the service. But 
 when question and response were introduced into the 
 Church liturgy, and the adoption of the vernacular 
 in the sermon made the service partially coherent and 
 understandable to the crowd, voices in the congrega- 
 tion were often raised during the progress of the ser- 
 mon, disputing assertions made by the priest. 
 Women especially took exception to the free mention 
 of their sex in the priestly censure. Penetrating 
 even to the cloister, these interruptions came from 
 the clergy likewise, and were constant and vociferous. 
 
 Outside of the monastery, those of the ecclesiastical 
 brotherhood who travelled from place to place, look- 
 ing after the welfare of the people, resorted to stories 
 or exempla, with which to give pungency to the moral 
 of the sermon. So childlike, in many respects, were 
 the people of the Middle Ages ; so credulous, that it is 
 not only reconcilable how a drama, based upon their 
 belief, and intensified by what now seems to be super- 
 stition, should have gradually developed, but it is 
 natural that the clergy should now reach out beyond 
 their dogmatic prejudices, and make use of the over- 
 weening childlike desire for a story. 
 
 Among the most famous exempla to be found are 
 those of Jacques de Vitry. The character of the 
 priest's hearers necessitated a change in his method 
 of delivery, and his tales became so much sought after 
 that he made a collection of his exempla for the use 
 of clerics and preachers. The sarcasm, the aptness, 
 the moral behind the apparent lightness, may well 
 be seen by quoting a few anecdotes which are of spe- 
 cial interest because of their distinct local color:
 
 INTRODUCTION 25 
 
 " A certain holy man, while in choir, saw the 
 devil loaded down with a full sack. He adjured 
 the devil to tell him what he was carrying, and the 
 devil replied that the sack was full of the syllables 
 and words and verses of the psalms, abbreviated or 
 omitted by the clergy, during that service. ' These 
 I diligently preserve for their accusation.' ' 
 
 " When Jacques de Vitry was preaching the cru- 
 sade in a certain town, a man was persuaded by his 
 wife to absent himself from the sermon. From 
 curiosity, however, he stood by the window, and 
 heard of the great rewards in the way of indul- 
 gences, etc., promised to those who took the Cross. 
 Moved at length by what he heard, he lowered him- 
 self from the window, because his wife was guard- 
 ing the door, and took the Cross. His example 
 was followed by many." 
 
 " A knight, about to embark on the crusade, had 
 his little children, whom he dearly loved, brought 
 before him, in order that his departure might be 
 made more bitter, and his merit increased." 
 
 " St. Gregory tells of a woman who ate lettuce 
 without making the sign of the Cross, and swal- 
 lowed the devil. When a holy man tried to exor- 
 cise him, the devil said: ' What fault is it of mine? 
 I was sitting on the lettuce, and she did not cross 
 herself, and so ate me too.' ' 
 
 What these exempla emphasize is above all that 
 even in the Church human interest was held virtually 
 by the same means as in the religious plays. The 
 primary purpose was to create interest; at the same
 
 26 INTRODUCTION 
 
 time the stories retained, to a less important degree, a 
 touch of the religious spirit. 
 
 Once outside the church, the drama was furthered 
 by an innate love of pomp, and by a gradual increase 
 in local individuality, which became manifest in the 
 establishment of gilds. But before reaching the 
 people and becoming vital to them, the plays had to 
 undergo another change, which came simultaneously 
 with the introduction of the humorous elements above 
 mentioned, and which increased their popular charac- 
 ter. This was the change from the Latin tongue to 
 the vernacular. In the drama, previous to this pe- 
 riod, French or German had been used to explain the 
 Latin text, but the ecclesiastical tongue prevailed, 
 and examples of the popular speech were few and 
 far between. 
 
 The innovation in language met a popular demand, 
 and the Church realized that its power would aug- 
 ment only so soon as her service was understood. In 
 different localities, various dialects of the French and 
 German tongues had long ago developed. Natu- 
 rally this had resulted in Latin becoming alien to 
 every one, except to the ecclesiastics. At first the 
 vernacular was simply used to translate particular 
 portions of the Latin text, then to paraphrase them. 
 Forming at times entire refrains, the popular speech 
 at last predominated, with here and there a passage 
 remaining in Latin. Finally, as in the case of two 
 plays, Adam and the Resurrection, which are typical 
 of this period, the drama was written entirely in the 
 popular tongue. 2 
 
 A similar evolution took place in the sermons. The
 
 INTRODUCTION 27 
 
 mixture called the macaronic style was used as early 
 as 1262, the sermons of the XHIth century being 
 divided into those addressed to the faithful, which, 
 though written in Latin, were preached in French; 
 and those addressed to the clerks, which were delivered 
 in Latin. In Charlemagne's time (742-814), he ad- 
 vised that lessons (predications) be given in the dia- 
 lects which the common people could understand. 
 In 813 at Rheims, Tours, and Mayence, councils de- 
 creed that not only should the homilies of the Fathers 
 be translated into the ordinary or popular tongue of 
 the country (" in rusticam romanam Imguam, aut 
 theotiscam"), but that they should be preached in 
 an intelligible fashion to all people, in accordance 
 with the necessities of their language (** secundum 
 proprietatem Imguce "). From the Xth to the Xllth 
 centuries other changes were perfected. First the 
 sermons were delivered in Latin, sections being trans- 
 lated by the officiant to aid the people in following 
 the thread of the discourse; then the sermons were 
 translated entirely, and in the Xllth century, they 
 were circulated among the clergy. The effect of 
 such translations in France was either to lengthen or 
 to shorten the original, and at the head of the Xlllth 
 century manuscripts appeared the descriptions : ** in 
 vulgari, in latino "; the themes, however, according to 
 LeCoy de la Marche (La Chaire Francaise), were 
 announced in Latin, as they are often done to-day. 
 Jacques de Vitry said: 
 
 " When we speak in the convents and the assem- 
 blies, en langue latine, we are able to say many
 
 28 INTRODUCTION 
 
 things, because we are not obliged to descend to 
 minute explications ; but with the laity it is always 
 necessary to be precise, and to put dots over the 
 i's ; for the sacred word should be as clear and as 
 lucid to them as is the carbuncle stone." 
 
 There are instances of the clergy becoming ig- 
 norant of Latin, due to this introduction of the ver- 
 nacular ; and in the cloister it often became necessary 
 to have the Latin sermon followed by a French 
 translation. 
 
 This adoption of the vernacular in the Church 
 showed a desire on the part of the clergy to take the 
 people more into consideration. As the drama, out- 
 side of the church, was afforded vast scope in the 
 selection of details not purely reh'gious, so the use 
 of the vernacular lent a pliability to the treatment 
 of religious material that tended to vary, rather than 
 to fix, the dramatic forms. It likewise occasioned 
 another change from the sung questions and responses 
 of the Christmas and Easter celebrations to the 
 spoken play. Music that had a vital connection with 
 the service continued its growth; but the dramatist, 
 through the increased dramatic instinct to write 
 plays for their special dramatic value, evidently real- 
 ized the importance of speech in the development of 
 character. The change to the vernacular resulted 
 in a local and personal individuality that infused 
 renewed life into the drama, where the sung questions 
 and responses had tended to keep all within pre- 
 scribed religious bounds. 
 
 During the Middle Ages the theory of music had
 
 INTRODUCTION 29 
 
 attained a high development. In the Church it took 
 the form of a chant, and in the liturgical plays it 
 was used as a means of dramatic expression. But 
 the earlier liturgical dramas, the tropes, were actual 
 parts of the intoned service; and M. Coussemaker 
 (L'Art Harmon, aux XII* et XIII* Siecles) be- 
 lieves that the music for them was only a liturgical 
 chant, with the addition of a special melody for that 
 section of the drama which was not based upon the 
 liturgical text. On particular Church festival-days, 
 likewise, special musical features were added as or- 
 ganic parts of the representations. It must be borne 
 in mind that the liturgical music was to the Church a 
 means toward an end, a dramatic means, moreover, 
 of holding the interest of the people chiefly through 
 the emotions. 
 
 At Paris, Poitiers, Treves, Bourges, and Rouen ; 
 in the many abbeys throughout France, the most 
 famous being that of Saint Gall (the home of the 
 Gregorian Chant), not only religious but popular 
 music and the dance were taught. The instructor, 
 or leader of the choir, had as his scholars* those who 
 in the liturgical plays were the angels and the chil- 
 dren gathered about the Jews. It was his duty to 
 compose music for feast-days, and to see that noth- 
 ing objectionable was introduced therein. 
 
 Popular influence soon manifested itself in the 
 music ; the Gregorian Chant, admitting of little vari- 
 ation, and change being characteristic of the transi- 
 tion period, extraneous melodies were written to 
 
 * Vide Chapel boys [Babees Boke, E. E. T. S.] and Cham- 
 bers, Medieval Stage, I, 336, The Boy Bishop.
 
 gO INTRODUCTION 
 
 satisfy the growing popular fancy. Several agents 
 were at work in accomplishing this innovation, and in 
 creating a demand for it. The troubadours, the trou- 
 veres, and the jongleurs were factors that hastened 
 a definite separation of the religious from the popular 
 elements in the music. As in the development of the 
 drama, there had resulted the formation of two types 
 rather than the entire disappearance of the parent 
 form, so in the music a popular spirit was fur- 
 thered, which did not replace the religious music, but 
 created alongside of it a popular form, largely of 
 the wandering minstrels' making. Indirectly this was 
 another cause which tended to hasten the transplant- 
 ing of the drama from the altar to the churchyard. 
 " In 1227," says Leon Gautier, " the Council of 
 Treves launched a severe anathema against vagabond 
 scholars, truants, and * goliards,' " who appeared in 
 the churches and monasteries, singing and bringing 
 with them the ways of the outside world. As early 
 as the Xth century, errant clerks among the clergy, 
 becoming a disgrace to their orders, were made to 
 flee the monasteries. Incensed, they spread evil in- 
 fluences among the people and evil reports concerning 
 the Church among the poor. They introduced love 
 songs of a ribald character into plays, and many 
 elements antagonistic to the religious spirit; they 
 entered the churches and sang the Sanctus and Agnus 
 Dei in such a manner as to lead the congregations 
 astray. After services, beneath the walls of the 
 cloister, they harangued against Rome and the Pope. 
 Into the plays they introduced obscenities and pas- 
 sions worldly in the extreme, and set religious words
 
 INTRODUCTION 31 
 
 to a new form of music, which the people readily 
 grasped and enjoyed. 
 
 The jongleurs, as these outcasts were sometimes 
 called, were an ancient class. They were in demand 
 in the Middle Ages to create amusement for the 
 people. They produced chansons de gestes, plays, 
 and light songs, and sang them before lords and peo- 
 ple. On the battle-field, in the castle, upon the street 
 they found their audiences, and were showered with 
 gifts and flattered with the deepest attention. They 
 depicted life and action of the most varied kind; in 
 their persons they exemplified freedom ; and with 
 these characteristics they opposed the old religious 
 spirit of the liturgical plays. 
 
 The constant association of the jongleurs with the 
 people began through popular allusions and local 
 touches to affect their work. While there is extant 
 no definite description of a French audience witness- 
 ing a drama, still there must have been no very wide 
 difference between such an audience and the crowd 
 surrounding the jongleurs in the street and at the 
 Court. 
 
 In the introduction to their songs, these wandering 
 minstrels very frequently address those about them in 
 the following manner: 
 
 Seignors Roi, Prince et Comte, Chevalier et Baron, 
 Bourgois, canoine prestre, gent de religion, 
 Dames et damiselles et petit enfanchon, etc. 
 (Rom. des VOBUX du Paon.) 
 
 Seignors or entendez chevaliers et sergents, Bour- 
 goises et bourgois et saiges clercs lisant, etc. 
 (Rom. d'ogier le Danois.)
 
 32 INTRODUCTION 
 
 But it is to be noted with interest that the common 
 people are not even mentioned in this quotation. The 
 minstrels, especially the trouveres and troubadours, 
 were nothing if not aristocratic in their tastes, and 
 knowing this, it must not be inferred that the people, 
 other than those of high rank, were not gathered 
 around the bard in the public squares. 
 
 Within the church the congregation was ranged 
 in a circle, and was divided, the men on one side 
 and the women on the other The noble ladies, when 
 they came, brought with them soft seats, carried by 
 their attendants, while the other seats were furnished 
 by the church; previous to the Xlllth century, in 
 France, all people had been compelled to stand, and 
 the nobles and chevaliers were consequently not over- 
 enthusiastic in attending service. Jacques de Vitry 
 exclaims: 
 
 " You, on the contrary, would force the priest to 
 finish the Mass promptly, to abandon yourself lei- 
 surely to the pleasures of the table." 
 
 This mixed character of the worshippers within 
 the church, was also marked among the crowd out- 
 side; all classes of the feudal system were repre- 
 sented. Lord and lady, knight and squire, monk, 
 merchant, artisan, and serf came to divine worship, 
 and when the plays developed in dramatic content, 
 more and more people flocked to see them until they 
 overflowed the church limits, causing the drama to 
 pass into the churchyard. Again we find an analogy 
 in the placing of pulpits in the churchyard, and in
 
 INTRODUCTION 33 
 
 the clergy haranguing the crowd from the church 
 steps or gate. 
 
 Written in the vernacular, with only the stage 
 directions in Latin; spoken rather than sung, with a 
 definite attempt on the part of the author to depict 
 character in his dialogue, and played outside of the 
 church these are the points about the drama most 
 important in this transitional period, especially as il- 
 lustrated by the play of Adam transitional, because 
 as yet fresh from the Church, it retains some of the 
 religious atmosphere. 
 
 The Adam play is the product of the cyclic devel- 
 opment showing in crystallization what, step by 
 step, the German plays better exemplify. The Re- 
 surrection (Xllth century) is a fragment, but in it 
 is found the first example of a play entirely spoken 
 rather than intoned. Both of the plays are French, 
 and are in part still semi-liturgical, for they were 
 represented within the shadow of the church edifice, 
 the actors in many cases coming from the church 
 into the yard. 
 
 The Adam play, represented, in all probability, at 
 the feast of Christmas, begins with the scenic back- 
 ground of a terrestrial paradise, built upon a scaf- 
 fold to the right of the church and to the left of 
 the spectators, and reached by ladders. The plat- 
 form was spacious, surrounded by curtains and silken 
 hangings, so arranged as to conceal all but the heads 
 and shoulders of those who were in paradise. Trees, 
 laden with fruits, leaves, and flowers, pictured a gar- 
 den of " marvelous beauty," in the midst of which 
 a great tree, the acme of medieval art, was placed
 
 34 INTRODUCTION 
 
 with a mechanical serpent wound around its trunk. 
 To the left of the church and to the right of the 
 spectators was hell, with a grilled window and having 
 for an entrance the enormous mouth of a dragon, 
 which opened and shut mechanically. From the stage 
 directions we learn: 
 
 *' The Saviour shall come, clad in the habit of a 
 bishop ; before him Adam and Eve. Adam shall be 
 dressed in a red tunic, Eve in a white costume for a 
 woman, with a silk cloak also of white. Adam shall 
 stand nearer to God in an attitude of respectful 
 fear, while Eve shall be placed lower. Adam must 
 be properly taught when to make his replies, for 
 fear of speaking too soon or too late ; not only he 
 but all the others should be instructed to speak 
 suitably, and to match their gestures to their 
 words ; in the recitations they shall neither add nor 
 take away a syllable, but needs must pronounce 
 clearly, and speak one after the other, following 
 the order indicated. Every time any one of them 
 mentions Paradise, he shall turn from the side 
 where he finds himself, and shall point to it with 
 his hands. The play shall begin by reading the 
 verses: In principle creavit Deus ccdum et ter- 
 ram. . . . After which the choir shall sing: R. 
 Formavit igitur Dominus. . . . This done, God 
 shall say Adam, and the latter shall reply Sei- 
 gneur." 
 
 The Biblical text is adhered to closely. The story 
 of Adam and Eve is followed by that of Cain and
 
 INTRODUCTION 35 
 
 Abel, and the scene with the prophet is reminiscent 
 of the Proplietes du Christ. Satan flatters Eve in 
 the following figurative way: 
 
 You are such a feeble and tender thing, 
 You are as fresh as the rose, 
 You are whiter than the crystal, 
 Like the snow on the ice in the valley. 
 The Creator has mated you badly; 
 You are tender, Adam is stern. 
 You are so much wiser than he, . . . 
 That is why it is good to be near you. 
 
 In the presentation of the Resurrection, the plat- 
 form was divided into many stations or fixed posi- 
 tions where the actors stood, supposed to be invisible 
 during the progress of that part of the action in 
 which they had no share. There was a place for the 
 Crucifix and one for the tomb; there was a jail for 
 the prisoners, and a heaven and a hell. Here stood 
 Caiaphas, there Pilate; on one side the disciples, on 
 the other side the three Marys. Galilee was in the 
 middle of the platform. It is to be noted that in 
 England there were often required several pageant 
 wagons for a single play, each one fulfilling the 
 same object as the so-called station. 
 
 The plot of the drama unfolds, and the climax is 
 reached in the scene with Joseph and Nicodemus be- 
 fore the Cross. Nicodemus, taking his tools, bemoans 
 the fact that the Jews, his own people, should have 
 aided in the Crucifixion ; Joseph says to him : " Go 
 first to the feet." To which Nicodemus rejoins:
 
 36 INTRODUCTION 
 
 " Willingly, sir, and most carefully." Again Joseph 
 speaks: "Climb to the hands and remove the nails." 
 And Nicodemus replies : " Sir, I shall certainly re- 
 move both of them." This done, Nicodemus says to 
 Joseph, who holds the body, " Take it gently in your 
 arms." " That is what I am doing," he says, and 
 together they descend from the Cross, and call for 
 the ointments which their servants bring. The play 
 ends with the scene preceding the realization of the 
 Resurrection. 
 
 In Adam not only are the stage directions written 
 in Latin, but also the verses introducing each proph- 
 ecy. While the representation was given in the 
 churchyard, God, the sacred character in the action, 
 came from the church. The people still considered 
 the church, as M. Sepet has said, consecrated to re- 
 ligion as the terrestrial image of a celestial region. 
 The play must be regarded as the product of a con- 
 sistent development, constructed by an unknown au- 
 thor, probably an ecclesiastic ; written in pure Nor- 
 man dialect, and acted somewhere in the neighbor- 
 hood of Caen, or Rouen, or Bayeux by an organiza- 
 tion called the puy. s 
 
 Adam is the result of the union of three pieces. 
 It is evolved from the Prophet play, since Adam was 
 considered a prophet. His sin was looked upon as 
 a necessary event preceding the birth of Jesus, and 
 God expressed as much when turning Adam out of 
 paradise. Abel likewise symbolized the Redeemer. 
 It is thus natural that Eve and Cain should be in- 
 cluded by the medievals as among the prophets. 
 Having then these four in the procession of the
 
 INTRODUCTION 37 
 
 prophets, the next step was the development, in 
 length, of the several prophecies and the gradual 
 assertion of the details in each, terminating in a 
 separation of the two groups into two distinct plays. 
 But as we have seen in our study of the cyclic devel- 
 opment of the Christmas and Easter plays, borrow- 
 ing was a favorite practice among clerical dramatists, 
 and soon the author of Adam, finding material al- 
 ready at hand, fused the Adam and Cain and Prophet 
 plays into one, and added thereto his individual 
 touch. 
 
 It is probable that the Adam play is the product, 
 therefore, of four distinct moves, which M. Sepet 
 (Les Proph. du Christ) , groups as follows: 
 
 1. Adam and Abel are introduced into the Pro- 
 phetes du Christ. 
 
 2. Their roles increase, becoming two small scenes 
 analogous to those of Nebuchadnezzar and Balaam. 
 
 8. These scenes increase and separate, forming 
 two distinct dramas. 
 
 4. Then these two dramas, still more developed, 
 are placed side by side, the scene of the prophets be- 
 ing added. 
 
 5. In turn the Adam play becomes the germ of a 
 greater Mystery of the XVth century. 
 
 Outside of the church the drama still clung to 
 Biblical subjects, and was followed by the choir, 
 which remained for some time an essential feature. 
 Sepet says, however, it is easily seen that " the actor 
 is able to move freely in the framework " and to pro- 
 duce the play, not only as an officiant, but as a true
 
 S8 INTRODUCTION 
 
 artist. Nevertheless he adds that the actors of the 
 Adam play " appear still singularly rigid, singularly 
 dominated by the exigencies of the liturgy, if com- 
 pared with the actors of Shakespeare's time, or even 
 with those of the large Mysteries of the XVth and 
 XVIth centuries." 
 
 A greater departure from the liturgical drama is 
 further seen in the Resurrection play. Notwithstand- 
 ing that it is a fragment of only 366 verses, it shows 
 a more pronounced development in design and char- 
 acter sketching ; the Latin, likewise, has entirely dis- 
 appeared, save in the names of the characters. It 
 reveals an evident aim at realism, at portraying 
 sacred subjects not simply for the religious story's 
 sake, but because of an undisguised interest in the 
 characters themselves. The play begins with the 
 words, Let us recite, and inasmuch as the action is 
 told in the directions, it might be inferred that it 
 was recited or read, rather than represented. 
 
 Adam and the Resurrection are typical in their 
 religious content of the plays of the earlier centuries. 
 But a certain change in spirit, furthered by the ad- 
 dition of purely dramatic outward details, marks 
 them as of the transition period. The two manu- 
 scripts contain thorough directions for acting, as 
 thorough as those declaimed by Hamlet to the play- 
 ers ; everywhere there is evidence of the fact that the 
 writer was striving for artistic effect. To the church 
 building, that had once been sufficient as scenic back- 
 ground, were added mechanical contrivances, which 
 were used primarily for theatrical purpose: to make 
 the progress of a Biblical story realistic, more life-
 
 INTRODUCTION 39 
 
 like. Coming from the church, the actors brought 
 with them the costumes of the holy celebrants, which 
 rapidly assumed a mixed character, due to the in- 
 fluence of other than the religious spirit. It is true 
 that the vital religious incidents in the plays retained 
 their serious character even after the drama had 
 passed entirely from Church control. Not one touch 
 of humor can be found in the Resurrection centering 
 about the Crucifixion; but in Adam, freed from re- 
 ligious restraint and dogmatic reserve, the touch of 
 the dramatist became bolder. The art side of the 
 Resurrection is nevertheless apparent in the uncon- 
 scious childlike realism of the Cross scene; while in 
 the Adam play there is evident the hand of a play- 
 wright who knows much of human character, and aims 
 to portray it. No more natural, no more crafty scene, 
 is to be met with than that in which Satan obtains 
 control over Eve ; nothing more human can be found 
 than the rapid dialogue between Cain and Abel, in 
 which the latter hears of his approaching death. In 
 the mortification of Adam, in the humiliation of Eve 
 after the Fall, there is no mere paraphrasing of the 
 Biblical text. There is creative force that knows the 
 value of human emotion, that realizes a situation 
 where art can be made effective. 
 
 The plays reveal a double picture : the one, a spec- 
 tacular scene from the Bible; the other, a reflex of 
 the life of the people themselves. The effort to amuse 
 is a conscious one, and it was by dramatic means that 
 such effect was accomplished. The followers of Sa- 
 tan, the demons with their outward antics, satisfied 
 the coarse and awed the timid. Coming forth when
 
 40 INTRODUCTION 
 
 Eve wavers before the forbidden apple, they rush 
 among the people, finally arriving at Eve's side and 
 yelling into her ear, " eat, eat." The popularity of 
 Satan and his confreres is evident by the frequent 
 use made of them. Adam and Eve are both dragged 
 in chains to hell; Cain and Abel are likewise taken 
 and after each prophecy, the prophets meet with the 
 same fate. As the demons have no set speeches in 
 the plays, their random gestures and their roars must 
 have appealed to the audiences. Hell itself was de- 
 picted with elaborateness, and with as many realistic 
 touches as mechanical ingenuity could supply. 
 
 The transition period, if looked upon as a part of 
 a continuous development of the drama, shows all 
 the elements of the modern theatre in the germ. Up 
 to this time there had been a general evolution 
 one stream of the religious drama, wherever the re- 
 ligious spirit was to be found. But once beyond the 
 transition, once beyond the limitations of an unknown 
 tongue, the stream took many courses which devel- 
 oped separately. The nations with the greatest 
 power of assimilation, with the most vigorous ca- 
 pacity for growth, became the most important centres 
 for the new dramatic spirit. The exact time when the 
 national lines were drawn is impossible to state. The 
 drama's growth was a continuous unfolding, the 
 plays of England, France, and Germany becoming 
 distinct just as soon as the dramatist became an 
 individual in the general social life, rather than a 
 mere factor in the life of the Church. The introduc- 
 tion of the several languages would in itself have 
 been sufficient to cause a separate development of
 
 INTRODUCTION 41 
 
 the drama in the different countries, for language 
 was one of the most important of national charac- 
 teristics. England, France, and Germany 4 each had 
 its period of transition, in which a drama was slowly 
 created for the people, and became a part of the local 
 life. The ecclesiastic could not be a dramatist so 
 long as the religious spirit restricted him, but as 
 soon as the plays were taken into the free atmosphere 
 of the world, the dramatist grew in strength and his 
 genius became more dominantly dramatic. 
 
 The effect of this transition period was therefore 
 to emphasize the characteristics due to this national 
 feeling. As long as the dominant note in the existing 
 life was spiritual, so long did the drama remain within 
 the church, with an appeal far above the heads of 
 the average, save for the pantomime introduced. This 
 was the common lot of the beginnings of the drama 
 in England, France, and Germany the three started 
 from the same point in the development, and as the 
 years progressed they diverged into three national 
 branches, each with separate characteristics due to 
 environment, language, and all elements that give the 
 individual stamp to a nationality. But this change 
 was not due to any marked revulsion from the spirit 
 of the early drama. 
 
 Within the free atmosphere of an awakening hu- 
 manity, the drama broadened and began to show 
 something of a more personal nature. In France, 
 during the XHIth century, two plays may be fixed 
 as to authorship ; but to offset these, there are forty 
 Miracles which are subject to conjecture as to com- 
 position. Jehan Bodel and Rutebeuf both lived dur-
 
 42 INTRODUCTION 
 
 ing the reign of Saint Louis (1226-1276) and from 
 autobiographic data we learn that Bodel had leprosy, 
 which cut him off from society, while Rutebeuf, a 
 veritable Villon before Villon's time, courted favor, 
 was extravagant, and loved good cheer. Bodel's St. 
 Nicholas and Rutebeuf's Theophile 6 are valued for 
 their local touches rather than for their art work- 
 manship ; the latter shows no dramatic strength, but 
 contains the Xlllth century spirit and that element 
 dominating nearly all of the French plays of the 
 period namely, " the intervention of heaven and hell 
 in the destiny of a human creature." This is also the 
 particular note throughout the forty Miracles de 
 Notre-Dame. 
 
 Bodel's St. Nicholas, based on the popular legend 
 of the thieves and the treasure hidden in a figure of 
 the saint, is much more pretentious than Rutebeuf's 
 dramatic attempt, and abounds in local color. The 
 author exhibits his skill in a tavern scene where the 
 robbers form their plot, and his situations are varied. 
 The Miracles de Notre-Dame were in all probability 
 presented or written about the middle of the XlVth 
 century, occupying thus a position on the threshold 
 of the medieval drama at its height. And these plays 
 show a firmer treatment than either the plays of 
 Bodel or Rutebeuf a bolder design, a surer dramatic 
 hand, a more psychological analysis ; their presenta- 
 tion is a matter of conjecture, but it is safe to say 
 that they were fostered by one of the numerous puys 
 of the time. 
 
 The separation into distinct national dramas makes
 
 INTRODUCTION 43 
 
 it evident that, in the limits of an Introduction, some 
 proscription must be made. In France 
 ENGLAND, and Germany the material for the student 
 is rich and varied; in England the dra- 
 matic art at its height is best typified in the cycles, 
 mention of which is now to be made. 
 
 It must be understood that the English develop- 
 ment went through the same phases as have just been 
 traced. Individual activity here began at a time when 
 France had passed through its strictly clerical period 
 of drama, and when the infusion of Norman blood 
 immediately after the Conquest, encouraged among 
 the English people a pronounced encroachment of 
 the Norman tongue. The history of the English 
 language shows the struggle between the two for 
 ascendency. 
 
 The religious dramas of France were undoubtedly 
 an influence in the history of the English drama, but 
 it is sufficient to note that notwithstanding all their 
 national characteristics, the general trend of devel- 
 opment in the different countries was the same. 
 
 One of the earliest plays on English soil is of the 
 Xllth century, the Ludus de S. Katharina, played 
 at Dunstable, and probably written in French. It 
 was presented by the pupils of Geoffrey, Abbot of 
 St. Albans. Furthermore, three Latin plays by Hi- 
 larius (circa 1125), dealing with the story of Daniel, 
 the Raising of Lazarus, and the Miracles of St. 
 Nicholas, were presented in the first half of the Xllth 
 century. Of London Miracles (circa 1170-1182), 
 William Fitzstej)hens wrote :
 
 44 INTRODUCTION 
 
 " It [London] has entertainments of a more de- 
 vout kind, either representations of those Miracles 
 which were wrought by holy confessors, or those 
 passions and sufferings in which the martyrs so 
 rigidly displayed their fortitude." 
 
 By the time of Chaucer, the Mystery play, with 
 its pageant in the open, was well established, and 
 formed a most important part in the rise of munici- 
 pal life. The growth of the great cycles was, in 
 fact, coincident with the growth of cities. 
 
 The Mysteries of the XlVth and XVth centuries, 
 no longer controlled by the clergy, were supported 
 by the gilds of England and the puys and confreries 
 of France. Each gild had a patron saint, whose day 
 was observed, and as time went on, rivalry grew 
 among the organizations as to the superior merits 
 of the presentations, resulting thereby in remarkable 
 pageants and wonderful artistic ambitions. If there 
 were nothing more in the Mystery plays than mere 
 interest in local atmosphere, rather than in the work- 
 manship of the playwright, we could not help but 
 admire the stupendous effort of these medieval arti- 
 sans to present graphically and appropriately the 
 story of the Bible. The whole sweep of events in the 
 Great Book was not too much for presentation, even 
 though it took many days. These were the times for 
 the cycles of thousands of verses. France treasures 
 for the zealous student more than one million lines. 
 The Mysore du Vieil Testament, a combination of 
 six Mysteries, is told in fifty thousand verses. Noth- 
 ing seemed to daunt the dramatist; he dealt with
 
 INTRODUCTION 45 
 
 largeness everywhere ; the centre of action was at any 
 place; the extent of time was from the creation of 
 the world to the judgment. 
 
 The development of the gilds is in itself a study of 
 great interest and importance. The rise of the 
 cities was fostered by the mercantile or commercial 
 spirit, which prompted the union of interests to pro- 
 tect trade. But the Gild Merchant, the history of 
 which is ably set forth by Mr. Charles Gross in his 
 The Gild Merchant, was so conservative as to hinder 
 the free progress of trade, and by its very nature 
 became a monopolist of the most oppressive kind. 
 In the XlVth century, the non-gildsman was prac- 
 tically debarred from earning a livelihood ; foreign- 
 ers, entering a city, were subject to the most 
 scrutinizing regulations, except on Fair days, when 
 the restrictions were removed. A reference to the 
 Gild Merchant is found as early as 1087 and by the 
 Xlllth century, at least one-third of the boroughs 
 throughout England could boast of such organiza- 
 tions. The spirit of the gild is well shown by a grant 
 from Edward I., dated 1296, to such a body in 
 Chester. It reads in part: 
 
 " No one who is not sworn and admitted into the 
 aforesaid gild can merchandise in the said town 
 without the license and consent of the said bur- 
 gesses." 
 
 The craft gilds T were a later development than the 
 Gild Merchant, and while an artisan always had the 
 opportunity of becoming a master, the craft was not 
 endowed with all of the important privileges pos-
 
 46 INTRODUCTION 
 
 sessed by the Gild Merchant. This union of the 
 workers of one trade had economic results that were 
 far-reaching, since the desire was to make the very 
 best product, and since the supervision of the work 
 was most rigid and adhered to a high standard of 
 excellence. The members of the Gild Merchant, as 
 time went on, rapidly assumed important positions 
 in municipal life; the craft gilds, being more repre- 
 sentative of the working people, exerted more influ- 
 ence upon the local town life ; the two, however, were 
 alike subject to royal decree and to general municipal 
 orders. 
 
 In those days religious fervor never lost entire 
 control over daily life, and it is easy to imagine how 
 the gilds formed the idea of presenting the Mys- 
 teries. The plays, before they were actually mounted 
 by the gilds, were thoroughly familiar to the people 
 in subject matter. So that on festival-days, especially 
 on the days of patron saints, the gilds gradually took 
 it upon themselves each to present a portion of the 
 Bible story, an incentive to do so having already been 
 found, on the one hand, in the existing dramas which 
 served as models, and, on the other, in the extensive 
 development of magnificent processions, encouraged 
 by royalty and by the body ecclesiastical. 
 
 Royal entries into cities imposed upon such cities 
 the obligation of entertainment and welcome. Among 
 the many entries, the following may be mentioned : 
 
 1293 Welcome to Edward I. upon his return from 
 Scotland. London gilds marched in a pro-
 
 INTRODUCTION 47 
 
 cession with what appear to have been 
 moving pageants indicative of trade. 
 
 1313 Mute play of the history of Jesus Christ 
 from Nativity to Passion, performed at 
 Paris, before Edward II. and his wife. 
 
 1420 Dec. 1 Entry of Charles VI. and Henry 
 V. into Paris; mute Mystery, with sta- 
 tionary pageants representing a connected 
 story, the Passion of Our Saviour. 
 
 1430 Entry of Henry VI. into London; station- 
 ary pageants; verses and some speaking. 
 
 The establishment of the Corpus Christi festival, 
 by Pope Urban IV. (circa 1264), resulted a century 
 later in the founding of gilds under that name. 
 The Fraternity of Corpus Christi of the Skinners 
 of London dates from 1327. Mr. Charles Davidson 
 (Eng. Myst. Plays) quotes as follows from the Sur- 
 vey of London: 
 
 " This fraternity had also once every year, on 
 Corpus Christi day afternoon, a procession which 
 passed through the principal streets of the city, 
 wherein were borne more than one hundred torches 
 of wax (costly garnished) burning light, and 
 above two hundred clerks and priests, in surplices 
 and capes, singing. After the which were the 
 sheriff's servants, the clerks of the compters, 
 chaplains for the sheriffs, the mayor's sergeants, 
 the counsel of the city, the mayor and aldermen in 
 scarlet, and then the Skinners in their best liveries." 
 
 As the interest in these presentations increased, the
 
 48 INTRODUCTION 
 
 gilds assessed their members more and more, in order 
 to defray expenses, and later on the municipal au- 
 thorities themselves fined the gilds for failure to pre- 
 sent their pageants properly. 
 
 A discussion of the English Mysteries necessitates 
 an explanation of the terms Mystery and Miracle. 
 The Mysteries were all narratives based on the Gos- 
 pels, " their object," says A. W. Ward, (Eng. Dram. 
 Lit.) "being primarily to set forth, by an illustra- 
 tion of the prophetic history of the Old Testament, 
 and more particularly of the fulfilling of the New, 
 the central mystery of the Redemption of the world, 
 as accomplished by the Nativity, the Passion, and 
 the Resurrection." The Miracles, on the other hand, 
 deal only with legends of the saints ; no better ex- 
 amples of such can be found than the Miracles de 
 Notre-Dame, already mentioned. 
 
 The progress of the name in France is thus out- 
 lined by Petit de Julleville (Hist. Theat. en Fr: Les 
 Mysteres} : 
 
 Xllth century the liturgical dramas were called 
 ludi, representations, histories reprcesentandce. The 
 Adam drama was designated representation. 
 
 Xlllth century Bodel's St. Nicholas called jeu; 
 Rutebeufs play, however, called a Miracle. 
 
 XlVth century dramas called Miracles. 
 
 It is interesting to note that before the XVth cen- 
 tury the word Mystere was not used in France. In 
 1402 Charles VI. founded the Confrerie de la Pas- 
 sion, and used the term in connection with them. 
 
 In examining a series of plays that form each a 
 part of the same development, and, written prac-
 
 INTRODUCTION 49 
 
 tically with the same object in view, cover the same 
 ground in content, one must expect to find similari- 
 ties, and both conscious and unconscious imitation on 
 the part of the playwrights. 
 
 Of the manuscripts that have come down to us, the 
 greatest interest centres about the cycles of York, 
 Towneley, Chester, and Coventry; but within the 
 limits here prescribed it is best to take whatever will 
 give the most satisfactory picture of the scope and 
 presentation of the Mystery at its height.* 
 
 The York manuscript that is now available bears 
 the probable date of transcribing, circa 1430-1440, 
 and contains forty-eight dramas ; the Towneley plays, 
 in a manuscript likewise of the XVth century, are 
 thirty-two in number; the Chester manuscript dates 
 from 1591f-1607 and numbers twenty-five plays: 
 while the Coventry plays, forty-two in all, are dated 
 in manuscript circa 1468. These dates are most 
 likely many years after the actual first presentation, 
 but they serve the purpose of establishing some defi- 
 nite period, yielding as the limits may be. 
 
 Of these cycles only one bears any indication of 
 probable authorship. While the composition of the 
 Towneley plays has been traced to the cell of the 
 Augustinian or Black Canons at Woodkirk, and 
 while the Coventry Mysteries have been attributed to 
 the Grey Friars of Coventry, in the Chester cycle 
 
 * Vide Chambers, II., 407, Appendix X. 
 
 f- Schelling dates 1475. These indications vary with different 
 authorities. The Chester Manuscript bears interesting com- 
 parison with the French Myter du Vieil Testament: Cham- 
 bers, II, 409; Gayley, Forefathers, 128 teq.
 
 50 INTRODUCTION 
 
 there has been much discussion as to whether or not 
 the author was one " Randall Higgenett, a monk of 
 Chester abbey." There is slight evidence, however, 
 to support his claim. 
 
 It will be seen that despite the national character- 
 istics infused into the drama, the playwrights still re- 
 mained in touch with the Church, and continued to 
 trace, however freely, the same stories that formed 
 the basis of the religious drama at its beginning. 
 While we have a present-day drama, directly evolved 
 from the XVth century development, it was not the 
 whole stream of dramatic art that turned into the 
 channels which were to give us Shakespeare; there 
 came a period when there were two streams running 
 side by side the modern drama as we know it, and 
 the religious drama that still continued its course for 
 some time before its decline. But there is no question 
 that these monks, these playwrights, now handled 
 material for effect; they had the sense of the artist, 
 and though they borrowed, in many cases they im- 
 proved upon the original; though in other instances 
 there was a sad falling-off in workmanship. 
 
 Much profit may be obtained in studying a com- 
 parative table of the four cycles, which is printed in 
 Miss L. Toulmin Smith's edition of the York Mys- 
 teries. 8 At a glance we see the vast scope of this 
 panoramic progress of Bible story, strangely inter- 
 mingled with local color and local allusions. Some- 
 times we find an amalgamation of several plays into 
 one pageant, and we infer by this that a gild, failing 
 to furnish its quota, had its pageant privileges an- 
 nulled and its play transferred to another gild that
 
 INTRODUCTION 51 
 
 could well afford to present two pieces. Miss Smith 
 writes : 
 
 " As business grew, a new craft would spring 
 up, an old one decay and become too poor to pro- 
 duce its play ; a new one must take its share ; one 
 craft trenching on the trade of another must 
 share its burdens; sometimes two or even three 
 plays would be combined into one; sometimes a 
 play would be laid aside, and the craft to which 
 it had been assigned must join in producing 
 some other." 
 
 In Coventry, under date 1494, " it is therefore or- 
 dained that the Mayor, and 8 of his councel shall 
 have authority to join all such Crafts to those that 
 are overburthened with the said Pageants, with power 
 to levey penalties in case of refusal." In Coventry, 
 in 1523, one gild is recorded as offering aid to an- 
 other in presenting a pageant. 
 
 However these plays may have been divided origi- 
 nally, the ones extant show clearly that the idea of 
 the dramatist was to produce something that would 
 be actable. And there was art in his execution ; no- 
 where do we see such variety of poetic form, where 
 lines and rime schemes vie with each other and are 
 consciously introduced in order to gain particular 
 effect. And though the medieval dramatist was still 
 a monk, oftentimes he foreshadowed Shakespeare in 
 his wonderful intermingling of the tragic and the 
 humorous ; not so subtle, nor so fine, perhaps, but 
 used in a way to reveal a due sense of proportion.
 
 52 INTRODUCTION 
 
 These English cycles show that in many of the 
 plays scenes were taken bodily from elsewhere, and 
 were retouched by a newer hand. Miss Smith, with 
 several of her York plays, prints the Towneley texts 
 covering the same subjects, and even a cursory ex- 
 amination reveals convincing similarities. Mr. A. 
 W. Pollard in his edition of the Towneley Mysteries 
 also calls attention to this relation existing between 
 five plays, where the York manuscript served as foun- 
 dation for the Towneley. For example, in The De- 
 parture of the Israelites from Egypt [Y. XI; T. 
 XIII, Pharaoh] the connection between both cycles 
 is striking: 
 
 Towneley. 
 
 Pharao. Peas, of payn that no man pas, 
 
 But kepe the course that I commaunde, 
 And take good hede of hym that has 
 
 Youre helthe alle holy in hys hande; 
 For kyng Pharro my fader was, 
 
 And led thys lordshyp of thys land; 
 I am hys hayre as age wylle has, 
 
 Euer in stede to styr or stand. 
 
 York. 
 
 1 Rex. O pees, I bidde that noman passe, 
 
 But kepe the cours that I commaunde, 
 And take gud heede to hym that hasse 
 
 Youre liff all haly in his hande. 
 Kyng Pharo my fadir was, 
 
 And led the lordshippe of this lande, 
 I am hys hayre as elde will asse, 
 
 Euere in his steede to styrre and stande.
 
 INTRODUCTION 58 
 
 Again : 
 
 Towneley. 
 
 Primus Miles. A, my lord ! 
 
 Pharao. haghe ! 
 
 Secundus Miles. Grete pestelence is comyn ; 
 
 It is like ful long to last. 
 Pharao. In the dwilys name! 
 
 Then is oure pride ouer past. 
 
 York. 
 
 1 Egip. My lorde, grete pestelence 
 
 Is like ful lange to last. 
 Rex. Owe! come that in oure presence? 
 
 Than is oure pride al past. 
 
 This comparison is further illustrated by The Har- 
 rowing of Hell, which is imbedded in the Resurrec- 
 tion of the Coventry cycle. Turning to the Chester 
 plays, evidence of similarity with the Towneley manu- 
 script is likewise illustrated by Mr. Pollard in the 
 following : 
 
 Towneley. 
 
 Erthly man, that I haue wroght, 
 
 Wightly wake, and slepe thou noght! 
 With bytter bayll I haue the boght, 
 
 To make the fre; 
 Into this dongeon depe I soght 
 And all for luf of the. 
 
 Chester. 
 
 Eirthly man that I have wroughte, 
 Awake out of thy slepe;
 
 54 INTRODUCTION 
 
 Earthly man, that I haue wroght, 
 
 Of me thou have no kepe. 
 From heaven man's soule I soughte 
 
 Into a dongion depe 
 My dere lemon from thense I broughte 
 
 For ruthe of her I weepe. 
 
 Thomas Wright, editor of the Chester cycle, sup- 
 ports Collier (Hist. Eng. Dram. Poet.), who calls 
 attention to a partial resemblance between the Ches- 
 ter plays and the French Mysteries. The two French 
 pieces mentioned as typical examples of the transi- 
 tion period have their counterpart in The Creation 
 (T.I.) [Adam] and The Crucifixion (T. XXIII) 
 [Resurrection]. A glimpse into this comparative 
 work will justify the assertion that individual- 
 ity to the XVth century playwright meant the 
 individual stamp on all material whether old or new, 
 rather than the creation each time of new plots 
 and new situations. It likewise shows that, from the 
 constructive side, one may trace, in the partiality to 
 particular metres, the hand of the individual crafts- 
 man through many plays, and Mr. Pollard has 
 applied this analysis in the case of what he calls the 
 " one real genius " of the Towneley cycle. 
 
 M. de Julleville in his illuminating work on Les 
 Mysteres, in dealing with the characteristics of the 
 French plays, writes that the authors probably real- 
 ized the profound unity of their subject, and some- 
 times were successful in sustaining it ; but under the 
 multiplicity of details more often was the unity lost, 
 and for this reason it was easier for the later dra-
 
 INTRODUCTION 55 
 
 matic tinker to amalgamate plays into immense cycles. 
 Wherever the dramatist could, he introduced his local 
 studies and gave to them his own individual touch; 
 for, as the same writer says, the medieval public en- 
 joyed tracing in the characters before them the 
 language, habits, and sentiments of their neigh- 
 bors. The tragic, pathetic, idyllic, comic, realistic, 
 and satiric spoken of by John Addington Symonds 
 (Shakespeare's Predeces. in Eng. Dram.) are all im- 
 portant elements in the Mysteries; the dramatist 
 becomes human in a free atmosphere. 
 
 One has but to read the dialogue that passes be- 
 tween Abraham and Isaac to understand the effect 
 it must have had upon a medieval audience, witnessing 
 a father about to slay his son. Note this from the 
 Chester manuscript (7F. The Sacrifice of Isaac) : 
 
 Abraham. O! comelye creature, but I thee kille, 
 I greve my God, and that full ylle; 
 I maye not worke againste his will, 
 
 But ever obediente be. 
 O! Isaake, sonne, to thee I saie, 
 God hath commaunded me to daye 
 Sacrifice, this is no naye, 
 
 To make of thy bodye. 
 
 Isaake. Is yt Godes will I shalbe slayne? 
 Abraham. Yea, sonne, it is not for to leane; 
 To his byddinge I wilbe bayne, 
 
 And ever to hym pleasinge. 
 But that I do this dilfull deede, 
 My Lorde will not quite me in my nede. 
 Isaake. Marye, father, God forbydde.
 
 56 INTRODUCTION 
 
 But you doe your offeringe! 
 Father, at home your sonnes you shall fynde, 
 That you must love by course of kinde : 
 Be I onste out of your mynde, 
 
 Your sorowe male sone cease; 
 But yet you muste do Godes byddinge. 
 Father, tell my mother for no thinge. 
 
 Here we find the Bible situation, embellished with 
 that simplicity which is art because it is simple. The 
 pathos increases in the scene preceding the one where 
 the angel stays the hand of Abraham : 
 
 Abraham. Fare well, my sweete sonne of grace! 
 
 Here let Isaake kneele downe and speake. 
 Isaake. I praye you, father, torne downe my face 
 A littill, while you have space, 
 
 For I am full sore adreade. 
 Abraham. To doe this deed I am sorye. 
 Isaake. Yea, Lorde, to thee I call and crye, 
 Of my soule thou have mercye, 
 Hartelye I thee praie! 
 
 Isaake. A ! mercye, father, why tarye you soe? 
 Smyte of my head, and let me goe. 
 I praye you rydd me of my woe, 
 
 For nowe I take my leve. 
 
 Abraham. Ah, sonne ! my harte will breake in three, 
 To heare thee speake such wordes to me. 
 Jesu! on me thou have pittye, 
 That I have moste in mynde.
 
 INTRODUCTION 57 
 
 We can further imagine the enjoyment of that hu- 
 mor which smacked of village gossip in such scenes as 
 the one in which Noah, just before the flood, tries to 
 get his wife on board the, Ark. She refuses to stir 
 unless her companions may come with her. Our read- 
 ing is from Chester III., Noah's Flood: 
 
 Noye. Good wyffe, doe nowe as I thee bydde. 
 
 Noyes Wiffe. Be Christe ! not or I see more neede, 
 Though thou stande all daye and stare. 
 
 Noah apostrophizes on the ways of women; the 
 medieval dramatists take especial delight in depict- 
 ing for the benefit of young men the direful results of 
 married life. Noah calls aloud : 
 
 For all the wene that thou arte maister, 
 And soe thou arte, by Sante John ! 
 
 Then after discussing the ways and means of get- 
 ting her aboard, the family group decide to use force : 
 
 Noye. Come in, wiffe, in twentye devilles waye ! 
 
 Or elles stand there without. 
 Cam. Shall we all feche her in? 
 Noye. Yea, sonnes, in Christe blessinge and myne! 
 I woulde you hied you betyme, 
 
 For of this flude I am in doubte. 
 . . . . 
 
 Jeffatte. Mother, we praye you all together, 
 
 For we are heare, youer owne childer, 
 Come into the shippe for feare of the 
 weither,
 
 38 INTRODUCTION 
 
 For his love that you boughtc ! 
 Noyes Wiffe. That will I not, for all youer call. 
 
 But I have my gossippes all. 
 Sem. In faith, mother, yett you shalle, 
 
 Wheither thou wylte or note [not] . 
 Noye. Welckome, wiffe, into this botte. 
 Noyes Wiffe. Have thou that for thy note ! 
 Noye. Ha ! ha ! marye, this is hotte ! 
 
 The realism that marks the French play of the 
 Resurrection of the XHIth century is repeated with 
 great similarity in The Crucifixion of the Towneley 
 cycle, (XXIII) where Longeus pierces Jesus with 
 his knight's spear, and also where Joseph and Nico- 
 demus take the body from the Cross : 
 
 Joseph. Nychodeme, com me furthe withe, 
 ffor I myself shallebe the smythe 
 The nales out for to dray. 
 
 The strange introduction of a humor that is coarse 
 and cruel, yet probably characteristically local and 
 realistic, if it were possible to forget that it was 
 spoken during the Crucifixion, is found in the scene 
 with Christ's torturers, who fight over their share in 
 the work. In that same play there is the scene with 
 John and Mary before the Cross, where the uncon- 
 trollable grief of the mother for her " swete son " re- 
 minds one forcibly of the German Marieriklagen of 
 the latter part of the XHIth century. Here the uni- 
 versal human asserts itself over the religious signifi- 
 cance; the human mother cries aloud with a human
 
 INTRODUCTION 59 
 
 grief, and the medieval audiences shed tears in sym- 
 pathy : 
 
 ffestynd both handys and feete 
 with nalys fulle unmete, 
 his woundes wryngyng wete, 
 Alas, my childe, for care ! 
 
 A student of these Mysteries will find them any- 
 thing but dull reading. They are full of a surpris- 
 ing freshness that blossoms forth when least ex- 
 pected. There is no more delightful dialogue than 
 that found in the Towneley play of The Shepherds 
 (XII [2], XIII [2]), where the atmosphere is as 
 complete, according to our views, as any modern 
 dramatist could have made it. These Mysteries and 
 Miracles afford us a rich field for watching the per- 
 sonality assert itself, irrespective of any religious 
 limitations. 
 
 One finds the village boy as menial to Cain; one 
 notes God vowing " in the name of the holy gast " ; 
 the medieval dramatist did not care for accuracies, 
 and he sought effect through means close to hand and 
 familiar to his time. Considering the Towneley plays 
 alone, a few local allusions are found in the following : 
 
 In The Prophets (T. VII), David says, " Shalle I 
 now syng you a fytt, Withe my mynstrelsy " ; on 
 coming out of the Ark (T. Ill), Noah discovers 
 castles and towns swept away; the Shepherds, on 
 hearing the angel's song announcing the birth, try to 
 imitate it (T. XII) : 
 
 ijus pastor. Now, by god that me boght | it was a 
 mery song;
 
 60 INTRODUCTION 
 
 I dar say that he broght | foure & 
 twenty to a long. 
 
 And when the Child is seen, the Shepherds greet him 
 as Duke and Knight. One speech in the second Shep- 
 herd's play is a dissertation on the Shepherd's lot 
 " no wonder that [they] are poor, they are so op- 
 pressed by the gentle folk." There are also seen 
 the elements of a -farce in the character Mak, who 
 steals a sheep from the Shepherds.* Christ is called 
 King of " towne and towre " and Herod wonders 
 "who the dewill made hym Knyght." Truly the 
 dramatist was a representative of his time, and no 
 richer picture could be drawn than from these stray 
 passages that reveal all but the sweep of life itself, 
 the whole husk with a goodly part of the spirit in it. 
 
 The early Church Fathers sought to give the con- 
 gregation a picture, and the later drama retained 
 this idea; it was a panorama, to be unfolded in a 
 public square, and to be spoken by actors who were 
 paid for their services. It has been said that to the 
 XVth century audience the Ark was as real as are the 
 caravels of Columbus to us of the present time. The 
 theory that drama is a reflex of life is well sup- 
 ported by the fact that the atmosphere of a life over 
 four hundred years ago is still mirrored in the words 
 that brought forth actual tears and laughter from 
 the motley medieval crowd. 
 
 The presentation of the English Mysteries can 
 only be pictured by taking here and there whatever 
 presents itself, and piecing together so as to gain 
 
 * This is one of the first examples of a farce in early Eng- 
 lish literature.
 
 INTRODUCTION 6l 
 
 effect. Much in these plays was left to the imagina- 
 tion of the spectators, the merest suggestion cover- 
 ing an entire scene. The word pageant, which in the 
 Coventry manuscript has been spelt in about twenty- 
 three different ways, was applied to the structure 
 which moved from street to street, as well as to the 
 play itself. Archdeacon Rogers (d. 1595), who wit- 
 nessed a play at Chester, thus describes a pageant: 
 
 " The maner of these plays weare, every com- 
 pany had his paigant, or p'te, w ch paigants weare 
 a high scafolde w'th 2 rowmes, a higher and lower, 
 upon 4 wheeles. In the lower they apparrelled 
 themselves, and in the higher rowme they played, 
 beinge all open on the tope, that all behoulders 
 might heare and see them. The places where they 
 played them were in every streete. They began 
 at the Abay gates, and when the first paigante 
 was played, it was wheeled to the highe crosse be- 
 for the Mayor, and so to every streete, and soe 
 every streete had a paigant playinge before them 
 at one time, till all the paigantes for the day ap- 
 poynted was neere ended, worde was broughte 
 from streete to streete that soe they mighte come 
 in place thereof, exceedinge orderlye, and all the 
 streetes have their paigantes afore them all at 
 one time playeinge togeather; to se w'ch playes 
 was great resorte, and also scafoldes and stages 
 made in the streetes in those places where they 
 determined to playe theire paigantes." 
 
 The following item of expense in the Coventry rec- 
 ords is of interest :
 
 62 INTRODUCTION 
 
 1450 Spend to bryng the pagent in to gosford 
 stret v d 
 
 The gilds of the Cappers and the Drapers each 
 employed twenty men to drag their pageants, which 
 have been compared with the floats used annually dur- 
 ing the New Orleans Mardi Gras festivities. Some 
 accounts show that to accommodate spectators at 
 Coventry and Chester, stages upon wheels were 
 pulled near the pageant for special benefit and better 
 view. 
 
 The French mansions or stations were large enough 
 to show much detail. At Valenciennes, in 1547, a 
 row 1 of columns supported Paradise ; Nazareth was a 
 wall pierced by a door between two Doric pillars; 
 Jerusalem was shown in the same way. A pavilion, 
 with columns, a throne, and the figure of a King, 
 represented the palace, while a square basin holding 
 water was the sea. So simple were these details and 
 yet withal so necessary to correct understanding !* 
 
 The actors in England were usually members of 
 the gilds ; clerics in lower orders of the Church some- 
 times participated. It is curious to notice how the 
 roles in the Biblical story were apportioned accord- 
 ing to a peculiar harmony existing between the part 
 itself and the trade of the individual. In the time 
 of the Mayoralty of William Alne, of York, in the 
 third year of the reign of Henry V., 1415, according 
 to a list compiled by the town clerk, one Roger Bur- 
 ton (the list is quoted in Miss Smith's York Myster- 
 
 *An excellent cut of this is reproduced in Gayley, Fore- 
 fathers, op. p. 216.
 
 INTRODUCTION 63 
 
 ies), the Plasterers were assigned the Creation of 
 the World, the Shipwrights were the builders of the 
 Ark, the Chandlers were the Shepherds who carried 
 the Star, and further down the list we find the 
 butchers assisting in the Crucifixion. 
 
 The actor's art has now become a paying one. Does 
 not God receive ij 8 and Pilate receive 4 d for playing 
 each his part? 
 
 Again we note "It* payd to God, xx a ;" "If 
 payed to the mynstrells ; " and " It' paide to the 
 sprytt of god. . . xvj d ." More often do we hear in 
 the Coventry records of the feasts of the actor. 
 In 1490: 
 
 Itm for IX galons of Ale xviij d 
 
 Itm for a Rybbe of befe & j gose vj d 
 
 Again in another place Pilate is allowed wine while 
 performing, and the pageant drivers are given drink 
 to cheer them on the road. 
 
 In the Xlllth and XlVth centuries the French 
 actors were furnished by the puys and later by the 
 confreries. Before the XVth century organized com- 
 panies were formed, and those who took part in the 
 Mysteries were bound by special contract. A num- 
 ber of rehearsals were given before the public per- 
 formance. On the appointed day the actors re- 
 ported at seven in the morning ; some of the audience 
 arrived at four, so eager were they for a good place 
 near the pageant wagon. 
 
 There was a so-called cry at one time in France, 
 an august person whose object was to beg citizens
 
 64 INTRODUCTION 
 
 to take part in the coming play, and he went about 
 in goodly procession, with trumpeters, archers, sol- 
 diers, and heralds. Even though the drama had left 
 the Church, priests still took important roles : among 
 notices of such we are told that in 1409 and 1437 at 
 Metz, a priest and two curates acted the parts of 
 Christ, St. John and Judas. Women figured very 
 rarely in the English and French presentations. 
 Before 1550 France had but three exceptions, one 
 in especial being in 1468, when a girl of eighteen 
 appeared as St. Catherine (2,300 verses) and was 
 so appealing in her tender beauty as to make a 
 young nobleman fall in love with her and marry her. 
 
 The roles were often long and arduous. Christ, 
 in one French play, had to recite 4,000 verses; in 
 1437, at Metz, during the Crucifixion scene, both 
 Christ and Judas were prostrated on account of the 
 continuous emotional strain. The Christus of the 
 latest performance of the Oberammergau Passion 
 Play (1900) has graphically described his painful 
 sensations while on the Cross. 
 
 The costumes used in the early religious dramas 
 were nothing more than ecclesiastical robes, and in- 
 stances are known, even during the advanced stages 
 of the XVth century, of the clergy lending their 
 vestments to the gild actors. But oftenest in Eng- 
 land the expense of such detail was charged to the 
 gild itself, and from the old records one is able to 
 gain some definite knowledge of the theatrical ward- 
 robe. The Smith's Company of Coventry, in 1449, 
 presenting the Trial, Condemnation, and Crucifixion 
 of Christ, mentioned among their machinery a Cross
 
 INTRODUCTION 65 
 
 and ropes with which to draw it up, besides gallows 
 and a scaffold; the Cross was often painted in gold. 
 Among the dresses we note black buckram hung with 
 nails and dice for the tormentors, and a white leather 
 coat for God: 
 
 God (Jesus) Coat of skin, sometimes painted 
 and gilded. False hair powdered in gold. 
 
 Spirit of God (as distinct from God probably 
 the Holy Ghost?) A coat of buckram, very 
 likely painted. 
 
 Caiaphas and Annas Robes of Christian Bishops ; 
 with hoods (1486) made of red (1487) ; wear- 
 ing " myttyr " painted with " gold foyle & 
 sylv foyle." 
 
 Herod A mask, painted. Satin and blue " boker- 
 am." Sceptre and helmet of gold and silver 
 (1499). 
 
 Judas Red hair and beard. 
 
 The Draper's Pageant presenting Doomsday in 
 1534 required a barrel for the earthquake, three 
 worlds, and " a link to set the world on fire " ; among 
 the dresses there were " coats for the black and white 
 souls," but no mention is made of the costumes for 
 the " two worms of conscience " that figure among 
 the characters. 
 
 The stage manager was ingenious in his settings 
 and costuming, seeking color and splendor in tinsel, 
 such as constitute the modern stage accessories. 
 Where his mechanical inventiveness resulted in a real- 
 istic hellmouth, his enthusiasm knew no bounds; nor
 
 66 INTRODUCTION 
 
 did he fail to express his pleasure over the beauty of 
 Paradise, such as is described in Adam. " Behold," 
 cries the author of a French Passion of 1534, " here 
 is the most beautiful Paradise you have ever seen 
 or ever will see." 
 
 The hellmouth was a pit and demons vanished 
 therein from among the audience, through the me- 
 chanical jaws of a wonderfully constructed dragon, 
 from whose depths groans and even flames and smoke 
 would issue. These latter details were regarded 
 as the acme of medieval scenic art- We read that 
 at one performance, through carelessness, the " fire- 
 works " went off in hellmouth before the appointed 
 time, creating consternation among the people. 
 
 All these details appealed to a childlike simplicity 
 that explains the thunder by the pushing of a table 
 across the floor, and believes the rain comes from a 
 watering-pot sprinkling the world. These plays 
 were witnessed by royalty, and by all sorts and con- 
 ditions of people, even the wanderer along the road- 
 way. We see the crowd in Chaucer's Prologue to 
 the Canterbury Tales, a crowd well-nigh level as 
 regards intellect, if not alike as regards rank, and 
 all of them capable of enjoying the same kind of 
 amusement. The elements that have thus been de- 
 scribed in detail brought this particular drama to its 
 height; already, in the cycles, there were beginning 
 to be shown signs of generalizing rather than of de- 
 fining characters. 
 
 Ward (Eng. Dram. Lit.) claims that while the 
 Morality plays are not unconnected with the Miracle
 
 INTRODUCTION 67 
 
 plays, their origin reaches farther back, even to the 
 Biblical abstractions which are in 
 THE MORALITY themselves the very foundations of 
 AND the Christian worship. " It seems 
 
 EVERYMAN. probable that inasmuch as our lit- 
 erature had more distinctly than 
 that of almost any other modern nation a specifi- 
 cally Christian origin, so it was the Bible itself 
 which implanted in the English mind its ineradicable 
 love for allegory, and for religious or moral allegory 
 in especial." Ten Brink (Hist. Eng. Lit., tr. Rob- 
 inson) writes: "The Moral plays owe their origin 
 to the same spirit that introduces the so-called alle- 
 gorical tendency into religious literature and court 
 poetry; viz., to the effort to illustrate moral doc- 
 trines and present abstract ideas in bodily form"; 
 and further adds : " The Mysteries had undeniably a 
 great influence on the formation of the Moral plays." 
 Certain it is that even before the definite appear- 
 ance of the Moralities* the way was being prepared 
 for them, since we meet with abstractions in the great 
 cycles just examined ; Veritas, Justicia, Pax, and Mis- 
 ericordia appear in the eleventh Coventry play [The 
 Salutation and Conception], and Death is introduced 
 into the same collection. It is not to be doubted 
 that Catholicism and the pending Reformation both 
 reached into literature for some existent vehicle to 
 carry their polemics, and found none better than 
 these Morality plays. 
 
 * Vide Chambers, II, chap, xxiii, p. 149, Bibliographical 
 Note; also ibid, Appendix X, p. 436,
 
 68 INTRODUCTION 
 
 But though religion fell back upon the drama a 
 second time for help, it was an ethical and dogmatic 
 motive, rather than a religious one, that fostered the 
 moral plays ; and, besides, the people were no longer 
 so submissive mentally ; they were alive to the value of 
 the dramatic impulse, and were thinking for them- 
 selves. 
 
 Mr. Pollard, in his interesting collection of speci- 
 mens from the early English drama (Eng. Mir. PL), 
 prints some passages from what may be called a 
 transitional type, which stands between the definite 
 Mystery and Morality, but which includes elements 
 characteristic of all three types Mystery, Miracle, 
 and Morality. It is entitled S. Mary Magdalene, and 
 is preserved in manuscript circa 1480-1490. In part 
 it adheres to the story of Mary's fall, and gives the 
 scene in which Jesus cleanses her of her sin ; it like- 
 wise sounds the note of boasting, characteristic of 
 the heathen monarch who, in so many of the plays, 
 defies Christianity; therein is it purely Mystery. On 
 the other hand, Mary is beset by Flesh, who sends 
 Luxuria to tempt her, and lead her before a galaunt, 
 and Satan rejoices over her fall; therein is it mark- 
 edly a Morality. But in the restoration of the life 
 of a Queen and her Child, through the assistance of 
 Mary, it is characteristically a Miracle, in the sense 
 familiar to the student of the French Miracles de 
 Notre-Dame. 
 
 A list of Morality plays would include, as among 
 the most important, and all of the XVth century: 
 The Castell of Perseverance; Mind, Witt, and Under- 
 standing; Mankind (Humanum Genus) ; Mundus et
 
 INTRODUCTION 69 
 
 Infans; The Pride of Life (Fragment) ; Everyman; 
 and Nature (by Henry Medwall). Mr. Pollard 
 speaks of the didactic Moralities, among which may 
 be mentioned the following groups, enumerated by 
 Miss Bates : 
 
 (a) Dealing with Temptations of Youth: Hycke- 
 Scorner, printed circa 1530 (Interlude). Lusty 
 Juventus, 1547-1553. The Interlude of Youth, 
 1553-1558. 
 
 (b) Written in Praise of Learning: The Nature 
 of The Four Elements (Interlude), 1510-1570. 
 Wyt and Science (by John Redford, circa 1545). 
 
 The very names themselves reveal the character of 
 these dramas. Of them all, none would approach in 
 completeness and unity of development, the Morality 
 play of Everyman. We find abstractions walking 
 across the narrow pageants, and rolling forth long 
 disquisitions on the evils of life of which they them- 
 selves are the symbolical types. Castles are besieged 
 by good and by evil angels; Humanum Genus falls 
 beneath the wiles of Luxuria in female attire, and is 
 saved therefrom by Confession. One of the closing 
 scenes in the Castell of Perseverance is that in which 
 Humanum Genus (Mankind) is debated over in 
 heaven by Mifericordia and Pax, who plead for him, 
 and Veritas and Justitia against him, with the final 
 salvation of Humanum Genus through the mrcy of 
 Pater sedens in trono. The dramatist, with a broad 
 sweep similar to that with which the Miracle play- 
 wright reviewed the entire Bible history from the 
 creation to the judgment, carried man from infancy
 
 70 INTRODUCTION 
 
 to old age ; brought Folly, Lust, Wantonness before 
 him ; had Pity, Misery, Compassion, Repentance, and 
 Confession save him, all in the semblance of person- 
 alities talking in a manner which the unskilled art of 
 the writer could not save from dulness or from 
 verbosity. 
 
 The Castell of Perseverance (middle of the reign 
 of Henry VI) is one of the oldest Moralities extant. 
 However, Miss Smith, in the preface to her York 
 Mysteries, mentions a play that antedates this one 
 considerably. " Once on a time," runs the preamble 
 to the ordinances of the Gild of the Lord's Prayer, 
 " a play setting forth the goodness of the Lord's 
 Prayer was played in the city of York; in which 
 play all manner of vices and sins were held up to 
 scorn, and the virtues were held up to praise." Miss 
 Smith likewise notes that a Creed Play was performed 
 in York "about Lammastide every tenth year, and 
 five such performances, beginning in 1483,* are re- 
 corded." Still another play, the manuscript of 
 which is lost, is mentioned as being given at York in 
 1558 and 1572. Mr. Pollard writes : " In that year, 
 however, Grindal was Archbishop of York, and de- 
 manded that a copy of the play should be submitted 
 to him. The copy was sent, and its return requested 
 three years later, but thenceforward we hear of it 
 no more. The loss is irreparable, for this is the 
 earliest Morality play of which we have any mention, 
 and must have been written nearly a century before 
 the Castell of Perseverance." 
 
 * Chambers (II, 120) says, "bequeathed to the gild of 
 Corpus Christi in 1446"; see also II, 154,
 
 INTRODUCTION 71 
 
 The Moralities were used as a mode of expression, 
 just as the didactic method distinguished the Socratic 
 school. Even as in Everyman, there is detected a 
 strong note of Catholicism, so in later plays the cause 
 of Protestantism was as strongly argued. Not only 
 did obscure writers turn their attention toward this 
 form of literary dramatic expression, but acknowl- 
 edged poets also, such as John Skelton, with his 
 Magnyfycence, adopted it also. The young Shake- 
 speare himself became familiar with the later-day 
 Moralities, and perhaps gained from them the lesson 
 that, after all, drama represents a struggle of soul; 
 he realized this when he became the dramatic poet 
 and put his vivid figures on the stage, producing in 
 them, by the sheer force of his art and craftsmanship 
 not so much the struggle of a world-soul as the strug- 
 gle of the individual " against a sea of troubles." 
 
 The presentation of the Morality plays was al- 
 most similar to that of the Mysteries. Pageants were 
 used, except in those cases where the special purpose 
 was to entertain a noble company in a banquet-hall. 
 Then a short play was selected and a strolling com- 
 pany was hired to give it. Over their wine, the 
 goodly assemblage applauded the slender cast, and 
 because of the fact that these plays were acted dur- 
 ing the course of the meal they derived the name, 
 interlude. 
 
 In Sharp's book on Coventry [Disser. on the Pag. 
 of Cou.], a cut accompanies the manuscript of the 
 Castell of Perseverance, representing a castle. The 
 following directions which accompany the drawing 
 are quoted in Pollard:* 
 
 * Vide Chambers, II, Appendix X, 437.
 
 72 INTRODUCTION 
 
 is the watyre a bowte the place, if any 
 dyche may be mad ther it schal be pleyed ; or ellys 
 that it be strongly barryd al a bowte : & lete nowth 
 over many stytelerys (marshalmen?) be withinne 
 the plase." 
 
 Over the Castle : " This is the castel of persever- 
 anse that stondyth in the myddys of the place ; but 
 lete no men sytt ther for lettynge of syt, for ther 
 schal be the best of al." 
 
 Beneath the Castle is a Bed : " Mankynde is bed 
 schal be under the castel, & ther schal the sowle lye 
 under the bed tyl he shal ryse & pleye." 
 
 On each side of the Castle : " Coveytyse copbord 
 schal be at the ende of the castel, be the beddys 
 feet." 
 
 Five stations for scaffolds are indicated: 
 " Sowth, Caro skaffold West, Mundus skaffold 
 Northe, Belyal skaffold North East, Coveytyse 
 skaffold Est, deus skaffold." ' 
 
 These directions were given to actors : "& he that 
 echal pley belyal, loke that he have gunne powder 
 brennyng in pypys in his hands and in his ers, etc., 
 whanne he gothe to batayle. . . . the iiij dowters 
 schul be clad in mentelys, Mercy in wyth, ryth- 
 wysnesse in red al togedyr, Trewthe in sad grene, 
 & Pes al in blake, and they schul pleye in the place 
 al to gedyr tyl they brynge up the sowle." 
 
 Collier (Hist. Dram. Poet.) has gathered together 
 some scattered details regarding the presentation
 
 INTRODUCTION 73 
 
 of these plays. We learn that Vice, the companion 
 of the Devil, wore a long coat, and was often given 
 a dagger cut from a lath. Of this character much is 
 made; he is the precursor of the court jester and the 
 familiar Fool of Shakespeare. In Moral, Will, and 
 Understanding, Wisdom is clad in " a rich purple 
 cloth of gold," and wears " a beard of gold," a 
 " cheveler," and " a rich imperial crown thereupon, 
 set with precious stones in his left hand a ball of 
 gold with a cross, and in his right hand a regal 
 sceptre." Anima enters " as a maid, in a white cloth 
 of gold, gaily purfled with minever, a mantle of 
 black thereupon, a cheveler like to Wisdom, with a 
 rich chaplet laced behind, hanging down with two 
 knots of gold and side tassels." 
 Mr- Pollard writes: 
 
 " In one part of the play a procession was 
 formed of the Five Wyttes (or, as we should say, 
 jive senses') as * five vyrgynes, with kertyllys and 
 mantelys, and chevelers and chappelettes,' singing 
 an anthem, * and they goyng before, Anima next, 
 and her f olowynge Wysdom, and after hym Mynde, 
 Wyll, and Undyrstondynge, all iii in wyght cloth 
 of golde, cheveleryde and crestyde in sute' ; and in 
 another place there enters a dumb show of ' six 
 dysgysyde in the sute of Mynde, namely, Indigna- 
 tion, Sturdiness, Malice, Hastiness, Revenge (or 
 Wreche), and Discord, ' with rede berdes and lyons 
 rampaunt on here crestes and yche a warder in 
 his honde.' " 
 
 With the exception of Everyman it is conceded
 
 74 INTRODUCTION 
 
 that the Moralities are dull, and without sufficient 
 action to sustain interest. Isolated passages possess 
 considerable literary skill. When Everyman first 
 meets with Dethe, there is a song upon his lips, but 
 no words to that effect are extant in the text as we 
 have it. Songs, however, are not foreign to the Mo- 
 rality ; in the Protestant interlude of Lusty Juventus 
 occurs this happily conceived lyric : 
 
 In a herber green, asleep where as I lay, 
 The birds sang sweet in the middes of the day ; 
 I dreamed fast of mirth and play : 
 
 In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure. 
 
 Methought I walked still to and fro, 
 And from her company I could not go : 
 But when I waked, it was not so : 
 
 In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure. 
 
 Therefore my heart is sorely pight, 
 Of her alone to have a sight, 
 Which is my joy and hearts delight: 
 In youth is pleasure, in youth is pleasure. 
 
 It now remains for us to say a word concerning 
 Everyman and the purpose of this introduction has 
 been accomplished. Ten Brink and Collier assign 
 this Morality to the reign of Edward IV. (1461- 
 1483) ; and as to authenticity, it is regarded by some 
 as the translation from a Dutch play, Elckerlijk. 
 The author of this original has been traced by Dr. 
 Henri Logeman to one Petrus Dorlandus of Diest,
 
 INTRODUCTION 75 
 
 who was probably some theologian, judging by the 
 sectarian spirit breathed throughout the play.* 
 
 Karl Goedeke (Everyman, Homulus, und Hekas- 
 tus) has traced, from the standpoint of international 
 literature, the direct forebears and contemporaries 
 of Everyman. It has been shown by him that the 
 central idea of our Morality that of proving one's 
 friends is traceable in many of the early parables 
 from various countries. Everyman, we find, was 
 itself appended to the Legenda Aurea of Jacobus 
 Voragine (d. 1298), writes Ward, " as a later addi- 
 tion in a brief form derived from the Speculum His- 
 toriale, a compilation of the XHIth century by Vin- 
 centius of Beauvais. But there can be no doubt that 
 the story itself is a parable narrated in the religious 
 romance of Barlaam and Jehosaphat, which has been 
 ascribed to John of Damascus, who died in 780, but 
 is now held to be more probably the work of his 
 younger namesake, afterwards Patriarch of Antioch, 
 who died in 1090." 
 
 Contemporaneously with Everyman stands the 
 Dutch Elckerlijk already mentioned, upon which 
 Christian Ischyrius (circa 1536) based a Latin ver- 
 sion entitled Homulus. This in turn was translated 
 into Dutch and Low German. Ward notes that 
 " the publisher of the Latin Homulus sought to add 
 to its attraction by prefixing to it a series of scenes, 
 taken in part from the contemporary Latin comedy 
 
 *K. H. de Raaf inverts the relation (Of. Chambers, II, 
 439; also Bibliographical Note, Schelling's Elizabethan Drama, 
 I, 57. In Forefathers, Gayley, p. 296, compares Everyman in 
 severity of treatment with Samson Agonistet; cf. also Cham- 
 bers, Academy, April 18, 1903, p. 394.)
 
 76 INTRODUCTION 
 
 of Hekastus, by Macropedius, which was independ- 
 ently derived from the same sources as Everyman, 
 and which was itself followed by a long series of re- 
 productions and imitations in Germany." 
 
 Four early imprints of Everyman are *t present 
 known : 
 
 (a) A fragment consisting of two-thirds of the 
 manuscript, and now preserved in the British 
 Museum : " Imprynted at London in Flete Strete 
 by me Rycharde Pynson prynter to the Kynges 
 moost noble grace." [1509-1530.] 
 
 (b) A second fragment in the Bodleian Library: 
 " Imprynted at London in Flete Strete at the 
 Sygne of the George by Rycharde Pynson prynter 
 unto the Kynges noble grace." [1509-1530.] 
 
 (c) Two manuscripts edited by John Skot, one 
 contained in the library of a Mr. Huth, and the 
 other in the Salisbury Cathedral. [1521-1537.] 
 
 (d) Another Skot edition in the Britwell Library : 
 " Imprynted at London in Poules chyrche yarde 
 by me John Skot." [C/. Chambers: 1529-1537.] 
 
 Of these, Pynson's manuscripts are the older. He 
 himself came to England from Normandy, circa 
 1490, and in 1509 was appointed special printer to 
 King Henry VIII. 
 
 Professor Brander Matthews, in an article on The 
 Mediaeval Drama (Mod. PhiloL, June, 1903) writes: 
 
 " The Morality was an attempt to depict char- 
 acter, but with the aid of the primary colors only,
 
 INTRODUCTION 77 
 
 and with an easy juxtaposition of light and dark- 
 ness. Yet it helped along the development of the 
 drama, in that it permitted a freer handling of 
 the action, since the writer of Moralities had al- 
 ways to invent his plots, whereas the maker of 
 Mysteries had his stories ready-made to his hand; 
 the Morality was frankly fiction, while the Miracle 
 play gave itself out for fact. Then also the ten- 
 dency seems irresistible, for any author who has 
 an appreciation of human nature, to go speedily 
 from the abstract to the concrete, and to substi- 
 tute for the cold figure of Pride itself the fiery 
 portrait of an actual man who is proud." 
 
 And it is in exactly this point that Everyman is 
 superior to other Moralities. Dethe, Knowlege, 
 Good Deeds, Everyman in fact, nearly all the ab- 
 stractions assume individualities that make them 
 moving forces in the drama. There are instances of 
 conventional forms throughout the play, and there 
 are set speeches that show it to be markedly a 
 " morall playe." There may be an overweight in the 
 abstract group of Strengthe, Beaute, and Dyscre- 
 cyon, and touches that are even didactic and dog- 
 matic, but the struggle of Everyman is the struggle 
 of a person as well as of a type. Inasmuch as the 
 play represents a struggle, it is a drama, and it 
 matters little if you call it Hamlet or Everyman, 
 the abstract instantly becomes the concrete, and the 
 symbolism of an idea becomes changed into a human 
 fact. 9 
 
 MONTEOSE J. MOSES.
 
 HERE BEGYNNETH A TREATYSE HOW 
 THE HYE FADER OF HEVEN SENDETH 
 DETHE TO SOMON EVERY CREATURE 
 TO COME AND GYVE A COUNTE OF 
 THEYR LYVES IN THIS WORLDE, AND 
 IS IN MANER OF A MORALL PLAYE. 1
 
 DRAMATIS PERSON^ 2 
 
 MESSENGER 
 
 GOD 
 
 DETHE 
 
 EVERYMAN 
 
 FELAWSHYP 
 
 KYNDREDE 
 
 GOODES 
 
 GOOD DEDES 
 
 KNOWL.EGE 
 
 CONFESSYON 
 
 BEAUTE 
 
 STRENGTHE 
 
 DYSCRECYON 
 
 FYVE WYTTES 
 
 ATTNGELL 
 
 DOCTOUB
 
 
 \
 
 MESSENGER. 8 
 
 I Pray you all gyve your audyence 
 And here this matter with reverence, 
 By fygure a morall playe; 
 The somonynge of Everyman called it is, 
 That of our lyves and endynge shewes 
 How transytory we be all daye. 
 This mater is wonders 4 precyous, 
 But the entent of it is more gracyous 
 And swete to here awaye. 
 The story sayth Man, in the begynnynge 
 Loke well, and take good heed to the endynge, 
 Be you never so gay ; 
 
 Ye thynke synne in the begynnynge full swete, 
 Whiche in the ende causeth the soule to wepe, 
 Whan the body lyeth in claye. 
 Here shall you se how Felawshyp and Jolyte, 5 
 Bothe Strengthe, Pleasure, and Beaute, 
 Wyll fade from the as floure in Maye ; 
 For ye shall here how our heven kynge 
 Calleth Everyman to a generall rekenynge. 
 Gyve audyence and here what he doth saye.
 
 EVERYMAN 
 
 GOD SPEKETH : 6 
 
 IPerceyve here in my majeste 
 How that all creatures be to me unkynde, 
 Lyvynge without drede in worldly prosperyte; 
 Of ghostly 7 syght the people be so blynde, 
 Drowned in synne they know me not for theyr God ; 
 In worldely ryches is all theyr mynde. 
 They fere not my ryghtwysnes, the sharpe rood ; 
 My lawe that I shewed whan I for them dyed, 
 They forgete clene, and shedynge of my blode rede ; 
 I hanged bytwene two it can not be denyed ; 
 To gete them lyf e I suffred to be deed ; 
 I heled theyr fete, with thornes hurt was my heed. 
 I coude do no more than I dyde truely, 
 And nowe I se the people do clene forsake me : 
 They use the seven deedly synnes dampnable, 
 As pryde, coveytyse, wrath, and lechery, 
 Now in the worlde be made commendable. 
 And thus they leve of aungelles the hevenly company ; 
 Every man lyveth so after his owne pleasure, 
 And yet of theyr lyfe they be nothynge sure. 
 I se the more that I them forbere 
 The worse they be fro yere to yere ; 
 All that lyveth appayreth 8 f aste, 
 Therfore I wyll in all the haste 
 Have a rekenynge of every mannes persone. 
 
 [For 
 96
 
 86 EVERYMAN 
 
 For, and I leve the people thus alone 
 
 In theyr lyfe and wycked tempestes, 
 
 Veryly they wyll become moche worse than beestes 
 
 For now one wolde by envy another up ete ; 
 
 Charyte they do all clene forgete. 
 
 I hoped well that every man 
 
 In my glory sholde make his mansyon, 
 
 And therto I had them all electe ; 
 
 But now I se, lyke traytours dejecte, 
 
 They thanke me not for the pleasure that I to them 
 
 ment, 
 
 Nor yet for theyr beynge that I them have lent. 
 I profered the people grete multytude of mercy, 
 And f ewe there be that asketh it hertly ; 
 . . They be so combred with worldly ryches, 
 That nedes on them I must do justyce, 
 On every man lyvynge without fere. 
 Where arte thou, Deth, thou mighty messengere? 
 
 DETHE. 
 
 Almighty God, I am here at your wyll, 
 Your commaundement to fulfyll. 
 
 GOD. 
 
 Go thou to Everyman, 
 And shewe hym in my name 
 A pylgrymage he must on hym take, 
 Whiche he in no wyse may escape ; 
 And that he brynge with hym a sure reckenynge 
 Without delay or ony taryenge. 
 
 [Dethe
 
 EVERYMAN 87 
 
 DETHE. 
 
 Lorde, I wyll in the worlde go renne 9 over all, 
 And cruelly out serche bothe grete and small. 
 Every man wyll I beset that lyveth beestly 
 Out of Goddes lawes, and dredeth not foly. 
 He that loveth rychesse I wyll stryke with my darte, 
 His syght to blynde, and fro heven to departe, 
 Excepte that almes be his good frende, 
 In hell for to dwell, worlde without ende. 
 Lo, yonder I se Everyman walkynge ; 
 Full lytell he thynketh on my comynge! 
 His mynde is on fleshely lusts and his treasure; 
 And grete payne it shall cause hym to endure 
 Before the Lorde, heven kynge. 10 
 Everyman, stande styll. Whyder arte thou goynge 
 Thus gayly ? hast thou thy Maker f orgete ? 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Why askest " thou? 
 Woldest thou wete [know] ? 
 
 DETHE. 
 
 Ye, syr, I wyll shewe you: 
 In grete haste I am sende to the 
 Fro God, out of his mageste. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 What sente to me? 
 
 [Dethe
 
 88 EVERYMAN 
 
 DETHE. 
 
 Ye, certaynly. 
 
 Thoughe thou have forgete hym here, 
 He thynketh on the in the hevenly spere, 
 As, or we departe, thou shalt knowe. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 What desyreth God of me? 
 DETHE. 
 
 That shall I shewe the: 
 A rekenynge he wyll nedes have 
 Without ony lenger respyte. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 To gyve a rekenynge longer layser [leisure] I 
 
 crave ; 
 This blynde mater troubleth by wytte. 
 
 DETHE. 
 
 On the thou must take a longe journey, 
 Therfore thy boke of counte with the thou brynge, 
 For, tourne agayne thou can not by no waye ; 
 And loke thou be sure of thy rekenynge, 
 For before God thou shalte answere and shewe 
 Thy many badde dedes and good but a fewe, 
 How thou hast spente thy lyfe, and in what wyse 
 Before the chefe lorde of paradyse. 
 Have ado 12 we were in that waye, 
 For wete [know] thou well, thou shalte make none 
 attournay. 
 
 [Everyman
 
 EVERYMAN 89 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Full unredy I am suche rekenynge to gyve. 
 I knowe the not! What messenger arte thou? 
 
 DETHE. 
 
 I am Dethe, that no man dredeth. 
 For every man I reste 13 and no man spareth, 
 For it is Goddes commaundment 
 That all to me sholde be obedyent. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 O Dethe, thou comest whan I had the leest in 
 
 mynde ! 
 
 In thy power it lyeth me to save ; 
 Yet of my good wyl I gyve the, yf thou wyl be kynde, 
 Ye, a thousande pounde shalte thou have, 
 And u dyfferre this mater tyll another daye. 
 
 DETHE. 
 
 Everyman, it may not be by no waye ; 15 
 I set not by golde, sylver, nor rychesse, 
 Ne by pope, emperour, kynge, duke, ne prynces; 
 For, and I wolde receyve gyftes grete, 
 All the worlde I myght gete ; 
 But my custome is clene contrary. 
 I gyve the no respyte ; come hens and not tary. 
 
 [Everyman
 
 90 EVERYMAN 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Alas! shall I have no lenger respyte? 
 I may say, Dethe gyveth no warnynge. 
 To thynke on the it maketh my herte seke, 18 
 For all unredy is my boke of rekenynge. 
 But, 17 xn yere and I myght have abydynge, 18 
 My countynge boke I wolde make so clere, 
 That my rekenynge I sholde not nede to fere. 
 Wherfore, Dethe, I praye the, for Goddes mercy, 
 Spare me tyll I be provyded of remedy. 
 
 DETHE. 
 
 The avayleth not to crye, wepe, and praye, 
 But hast [haste] the lyghtly that thou were gone this 
 
 journaye, 
 
 And preve [prove] thy f rendes, yf thou can ; 
 For, wete [know] thou well, the tyde abydeth no 
 
 man, 
 
 And in the worlde eche lyvynge creature 
 For Adams synne must dye of nature. 19 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Dethe, yf I sholde this pylgrymage take, 
 And my rekenynge suerly [surely] make, 
 Shewe me, for saynt Charyte. 
 Sholde I not come agayne shortly? 
 
 DETHE. 
 
 No, Everyman, and thou be ones there, 
 Thou mayst never more come here, 
 Trust me veryly. 
 
 [Everyman
 
 EVERYMAN 91 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 gracyous God in the hye sete celestyall, 
 Have mercy on me in this moost nede! 
 
 Shall I have no company fro this vale terestryall 
 Of myne acqueynte that way me to lede? 
 
 DETHE. 
 
 Ye, yf ony be so hardy 
 
 That wolde go with the and here the company. 
 Hye the that thou were gone to Goddes magnyfy- 
 
 cence, 
 
 Thy rekenynge to gyve before his presence. 
 What, wenest [thinkest] thou thy lyve is gyven the, 
 And thy worldely goodes also? 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 1 had wende [thought] so veryle. 
 
 DETHE. 
 
 Nay, nay ; it was but lende the, 
 For as soone as thou arte go, 
 
 Another a whyle shall have it and than go ther fro, 
 Even as thou hast done. 
 Everyman, thou arte made [mad], thou hast thy 
 
 wyttes fyve, 
 
 And here on erthe wyll not amende thy lyve ! 
 For sodeynly I do come. 
 
 [Everyman
 
 92 EVERYMAN 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 O wretched caytyfe, wheder [whither] shall I flee, 
 That I myght scape this en dies sorowe? 
 Now, gentyll Deth, spare me tyll to morowe, 
 That I may amende me 
 With good advysement ! 
 
 DETHE. 
 
 Naye, therto I wyll not consent, 
 Nor no man wyll I respyte ; 
 But to the herte sodeynly I shall smyte 
 Without ony advysement. 
 And now out of thy syght I wyll me hy ; 
 Se thou make the redy shortely, 
 For thou mayst saye, this is the daye 
 That no man lyvynge may scape a waye. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Alas! I may well wepe with syghes depe! 
 Now have I no maner of company 
 To helpe me in my journey, and me to kepe, 
 And also my wrytynge is full unredy. 
 How shall I do now for to exscuse me? 
 I wolde to God I had never be gete ! 20 
 To my soule a fulle grete profyte it had be,^ 
 For now I fere paynes huge and grete. 
 The tyme passeth Lorde, helpe, that all wrought! 
 For though I mourne, it avayleth nought. 
 The day passeth, and is almost ago [gone] ; 
 
 [I wote
 
 EVERYMAN 93 
 
 I wote not well what for to do. 
 
 To whome were I best my complaynt to make? 
 
 What, and I to Felawshyp thereof spake, 21 
 
 And shewed hym of this sodeyne chaunce! 
 
 For in hym is all myne affyaunce ; 
 
 We have in the worlde so many a daye 
 
 Be good frendes in sporte and playe. 
 
 I se hym yonder certaynely ; 
 
 I trust that he wyll here me company, 
 
 Therefore to hym wyll I speke to ese my sorowe. 
 
 Well mette, good Felawshyp, and good morowe. 
 
 FELAWSHYP SPEKETH : 
 
 Everyman, good morowe, by this daye. 
 Syr, why lokest thou so pyteously ? 
 If ony thynge be amysse, I praye the me saye, 
 That I may helpe to remedy. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Ye, good Felawshyp, ye ; 
 I am in greate jeoparde. 
 
 FELAWSHYP. 
 
 My true f rende, shewe to me your mynde ; 
 I wyll not forsake the to my lyves ende, 
 In the waye of good company. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 That was well spoken and lovyngly. 
 
 [Felawshyp
 
 94 EVERYMAN 
 
 FELAWSHYP. 
 
 Syr, I must nedes knowe your hevynesse ; 
 I have pyte to se you in ony dystresse. 
 If ony have you wronged, 22 ye shall revenged be, 
 Though I on the grounde be slayne for the ; 
 Though that I knowe before that I sholde dye. 
 
 EVEEYMAN. 
 Veryly, Felawshyp, gramercy. 
 
 FELAWSHYP. 
 
 Tusshe! by thy thankes I set not a strawe, 
 Shewe me your grefe, and saye no more. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 If I my herte sholde to you breke, 
 And than you to tourne your mynde fro me, 
 And wolde not me comforte whan ye here me speke, 
 Than sholde I ten tymes soryer be. 
 
 FELAWSHYP. 
 Syr, I saye as I wyll do in dede. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Than be you a good f rende at nede, 
 I have founde you true here before. 
 
 [Felawshyp
 
 EVERYMAN 95 
 
 FELAWSHYP. 
 
 And so ye shall evermore, 
 For, in fayth, and thou go to hell, 
 I wyll not forsake the by the waye. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Ye speke lyke a good f rende, I byleve you well ; 
 I shall deserve it, and I maye. 
 
 FELAWSHYP. 
 
 I speke of no deservynge, by this daye, 
 For he that wyll saye and nothynge do, 
 Is not worthy with good company to go ; 
 Therfore shewe me the grefe of your mynde 
 As to your f rende moost lovynge and kynde. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 I shall shewe you how it is : 
 Commaunded I am to go a journaye 
 A longe waye, harde and daungerous, 
 And gyve a strayte counte 23 without delaye 
 Before the hye judge Adonay. 24 
 Wherfore, I pray you, bere me company, 
 As ye have promysed, in this journaye. 
 
 FELAWSHYP. 
 
 That is mater in dede ! Promyse is duty ; 
 But and I sholde take suche a vyage on me, 
 I knowe it well it sholde be to my payne; 
 Also it makes me aferde, certayne. 
 
 [But
 
 96 EVERYMAN 
 
 But let us take counsel! here as well as we can, 
 For your wordes wolde fere a stronge man. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Why, ye sayd if I had nede, 
 Ye wolde me never forsake, quycke ne deed, 
 Though it were to hell, truely. 
 
 FELAWSHYP. 
 
 So I sayd certaynely ; 
 
 But suche pleasures be set asyde, the sothe 25 to saye, 
 And also, yf we toke suche a journaye, 
 Whan sholde we come agayne ? 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 Nay, never agayne tyll the daye of dome. 
 
 FELAWSHYP. 
 
 In fayth, than wyll not I come there. 
 Who hath you these tydynges brought? 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 In dede, Dethe was with me here. 
 
 FELAWSHYP. 
 
 Now, by God that alle hathe bought, 
 If Dethe were the messenger, 
 For no man that is lyvynge to daye 
 I wyll not go that lothe journaye, 
 Not for the fader that bygate me. 
 
 [Everyman
 
 EVERYMAN 97 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 Ye promysed other wyse, parde. 
 
 FELAWSHYP. 
 
 I wote [know] well I say so, truely, 
 And yet yf thou wylte etc and drynke and make good 
 
 chere, 
 
 Or haunt to women the lusty company, 
 I wolde not forsake you whyle the daye is clere, 
 Trust me veryly. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Ye, therto ye wolde be redy : 
 To go to myrthe, solas, and playe. 
 Your mynde wyll sooner apply 
 Than to here me company in my longe journaye. 
 
 FELAWSHYP. 
 
 Now, in good fayth, I wyll not that waye : 
 But, and thou wyll murder, or ony man kyll, 
 In that I wyll helpe thee with a good wyll. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 O, that is a symple advyse in dede ! 
 Gentyll Felawe, 26 help me in my necessyte ; 
 We have loved longe, and now I nede ! 
 And now, gentyll Felawshyp, remember me. 
 
 FELAWSHTP. 
 
 Wheder ye have loved me or no, 
 By saynt John, I wyll not with the go. 
 
 [Everyman
 
 98 EVERYMAN 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Yet I pray the, take the labour, and do so moche 
 
 for me, 
 
 To brynge me forwarde, 27 for saynt Charyte, 
 And comforte me, tyll I come without the towne. 
 
 FELAWSHYP. 
 
 Nay, and thou wolde gyve me a newe gowne, 
 I wyll not a f ote with the go ; 
 But and thou had taryed, I wolde not have lefte the 
 
 so; 
 
 And as now, God spede the in thy journaye! 
 For from the I wyll departe as fast as I maye. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Wheder awaye, Felawshyp ? wyll you 28 forsake 
 me? 
 
 FELAWSHYP. 
 
 Ye, by my f aye ! To God I betake the ! 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Farewell, good Felawshype ! For this my herte is 
 
 sore. 
 Adewe forever, I shall se the no more ! 
 
 [Felawshyp
 
 EVERYMAN 99 
 
 FELAWSHYP. 
 
 In fayth, Everyman, fare well now at the ende, 29 
 For you I wyll remember that partynge is mourn- 
 ynge. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Alacke ! shall we thus departe in dede? 
 A! Lady, helpe, without ony more comforte, 
 Lo, Felawshyp forsaketh me in my moost nede. 80 
 For helpe in this worlde wheder shall I resorte? 
 Felawshyp here before with me wolde mery make, 
 And nowe lytell sorowe for me dooth he take. 
 It is sayd, in prosperyte men frendes may fynde, 
 Whiche in adversyte be full unkynde. 
 Now wheder [whither] for socoure shall I flee, 
 Syth [since] that Felawshyp hath forsaken me? 
 To my kynnesmen I wyll truely, 
 Prayenge them to helpe me in my necessyte. 
 I beleve that they wyll do so, 
 For kynde wyll crepe where it may not go. 31 
 I wyll go saye; for yonder I se them go: 
 Where be ye now, my frendes and kynnesmen? 32 
 
 KYNEEDE. 
 
 Here be we now at your commaundement. 
 Cosyn, I praye you, shewe us your entent 
 In ony wise, and not spare. 33 
 
 COSYN. 
 
 Ye, Everyman, and to us declare 
 If ye be disposed to go ony whyder ; 
 For, wet you well wyll lyve and dye to gyder. 34 
 
 [Kynrede
 
 100 EVERYMAN 
 
 KYNREDE. 
 
 In welth and wo we wyll with you holde ; 35 
 For over his kynne a man may be bolde. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Gramercy, my f rendes and kynnesmen kynde, 
 Now shall I shewe you the gref e of my mynde. 
 I was commaunded by a messenger, 
 That is a hye kynges chefe offycer; 
 He bad me go a pylgrymage to my payne, 
 And, 36 I knowe well, I shall never oome agayne. 
 Also I must gyve a rekenynge strayte, 
 For I have a grete enemy that hath me in wayte, 
 Whiche entendeth me for to hynder. 
 
 KYNREDE. 
 
 What a counte is that whiche ye must render ? 
 That wolde I knowe. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Of all my workes I must shewe, 
 How I have lyved, and my dayes spent ; 
 Also of yll dedes that I have used 
 In my tyme, syth lyfe was me lent, 
 And of all vertues that I have refused. 
 Therefore, I praye you, go thyder with me 
 To helpe to make myn accounte, for saynt Charyte. 
 
 [Cosyn
 
 EVERYMAN 101 
 
 COSYN. 
 
 "What, to go thyder? Is that the mater? 
 Nay, Everyman, I had lever fast 37 brede and water, 
 All this fyve yere and more. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Alas, that ever I was bore ! 
 For now shall I never be mery, 
 If that you forsake me. 
 
 KYNREDE. 
 
 A ! syr, what, ye be a mery man ! 
 Take good herte to you, and make no mone. 
 But one thynge I warne you, by saint Anne, 
 As for me, ye shall go alone. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 My Cosyn, wyll you not with me go? 
 COSYN. 
 
 No, by our Lady ! I have the crampe in my to : 88 
 Trust not to me ; for, so God me spede, 
 I wyll 39 deceyve you in your moost nede. 
 
 KYNREDE. 
 
 It avayleth not us to tyse [entice] : 
 Ye shall have my mayde, with all my herte; 
 She loveth to go to festes there to be nyse, 
 And to daunce, and abrode to sterte. 
 I wyll gyve her leve to helpe you in that journeye, 
 If that you and she may agree. 
 
 [Everyman
 
 102 EVERYMAN 
 
 . EVERYMAN. 
 
 Now 40 shewe me the very effecte of your mynde 
 Wyll you go with me, or abyde be hynde? 
 
 KYNREDE. 
 
 Abyde behynde ! ye, that wyll I and I maye ; 
 Therfore farewell tyll another daye. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Howe sholde I be mery or gladde ? 
 For fayre promyses men to me make, 
 But, when I have moost nede, they me forsake ; 
 I am deceyved, that maketh me sadde. 
 
 COSYN. 
 
 Cosyn Everyman, farewell now, 
 For, veryly, I wyll not go with you. 
 Also of myne owne 41 an unredy rekenynge 
 I have to accounte, therf ore I make taryenge ; 
 Now God kepe the, for now I go. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 A ! Jesus, is all come hereto ? 
 Lo, fayre wordes maketh fooles fayne ; 42 
 They promyse, and nothynge wyll do certayne. 
 My kynnesmen promysed me f aythfully 
 For to abyde with me stedf astly ; 
 And now fast awaye do they flee : 
 Even so Felawshyp promysed me. 
 What f rende were best me of to provyde ? 
 
 [I lose
 
 EVERYMAN 103 
 
 I lose my time here longer to abyde ; 
 
 Yet in my mynde a thynge there is : 
 
 All my lyfe I have loved ryches ; 
 
 If that my Goodes now helpe me myght, 
 
 He 43 wolde make my herte full light ; 
 
 I wyll speke to him in this distresse. 
 
 Where arte thou, my Goodes and Ryches? 
 
 GOODES. 
 
 Who calleth me? Everyman? what, hast thou 
 
 haste? 44 
 
 I lye here in corners trussed and pyled so hye, 
 And in chestes I am locked so fast, 
 Also sacked in bagges, thou mayst se with thyn eye, 
 I can not styre ; in packes, lowe [low] I lye. 
 What wolde ye have? Lightly me saye. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Come hyder, Goodes, in al the haste thou may, 
 For of counseyll I must desyre the. 
 
 GOODES. 
 
 Syr, and ye in the worlde have sorowe or adversyte, 
 That can I helpe you to remedy shortly. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 It is another dysease that greveth me ; 
 In this world it is not, I tell the so, 
 I am sent for an other way to go, 
 To gyve a strayte counte generall 
 Before the hyest Jupiter of all. 
 
 [And
 
 104 EVERYMAN 
 
 And all my lyfe I have had joye and pleasure in the, 45 
 
 Therfore I pray the 46 go with me ; 
 
 For, paraventure, thou mayst before God almyghty 
 
 My rekenynge helpe to clene and puryfye, 
 
 For it is saide ever amonge, 
 
 That money maketh all ryght that is wronge. 
 
 
 
 GOODES. 
 
 Nay, Everyman, I synge an other songe ; 
 I folowe no man in suche vyages, 
 For, and I wente with the, 
 Thou sholdes fare moche the worse for me : 
 For because on me thou dyd set thy mynde, 
 Thy rekenynge I have made blotted and blynde, 
 That thyne accounte thou can not 4T make truely ; 
 And that hast thou for the love of me. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 That wolde greve me full sore, 
 Whan I sholde come to that ferefull answere. 
 Up, let us go thyder togyder ! 
 
 GOODES. 
 
 Nay, not so ; I am to bry tell, I may not endure : 
 I wyll folowe no man one fote, be ye sure. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Alas ! I have the loved, and had grete pleasure 
 All my lyfe dayes on good and treasure. 
 
 [Goodes
 
 EVERYMAN 105 
 
 GOODES. 
 
 That is to thy dampnacyon without lesynge, 48 
 For my love is contrary to the love everlastynge ; 
 But yf thou had me loved moderately durynge, 
 As to the poore gyve parte of me, 49 
 Than sholdest thou not in this dolour be, 80 
 Nor in this grete sorowe and care. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Lo, now was I deceyved or 51 I was ware, 
 And all I may wyte 62 myspendynge of tyme. 
 
 GOODES. 
 What, wenest [thinkest] thou I am thyne? 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 I had went [thought] so. 
 
 GOODES. 
 
 Nay, Everyman, I saye no : 
 As for a whyle I was lente the; 
 A season thou hast had me in prosperyte ; 
 My condycyon is mannes soule to kyll, 
 If I save one, a thousande I do spyll. 
 Wenest thou that I wyll folowe the? 
 Nay, fro this world not veryle. 03 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 I had wende [thought] otherwyse. 
 
 [Goodes
 
 106 EVERYMAN 
 
 GOODES. 
 
 Therfore to thy soul Good is a thefe, 
 For whan thou arte deed, this is my gyse, 
 Another to deceyve in the same wyse 
 As I have done the, and all to his soules reprefe. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 O false Good, cursed thou be, 
 Thou traytour to God that hast deceyved me 
 And caught me in thy snare. 
 
 GOODES. 
 
 Mary [Marry], thou brought thy self in care, 
 Wherof I am gladde: 
 I must nedes laugh, I can not be sadde. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 A, Good, thou hast had longe my hertely [hearty] 
 
 love; 
 
 I gave the that whiche sholde be the Lordes above ; 
 But wylte thou not go with me in dede? 
 I pray the trouth to say. 
 
 GOODES. 
 
 No, so God me spede ! 
 Therfore fare well and have good daye. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 O ! to whome shall I make my mone 
 For to go with me in that hevy journaye? 
 
 [Fyrst
 
 EVERYMAN 107 
 
 Fyrst Felawshyp sayd he wolde with me gone ; 
 
 His wordes were very plesaunt and gaye, 
 
 But afterwarde he lefte me alone. 
 
 Than spake I to my kynnesmen all in dyspayre, 
 
 And also they gave me wordes fayre; 
 
 They lacked no fayre spekynge, 
 
 But all forsake me in the endynge. 
 
 Then wente I to my Goodes that I loved best, 
 
 In hope to have comf orte : but there had I leest, 
 
 For my Goodes sharpely dyd me tell 
 
 That he bryngeth many in to hell. 
 
 Than of my self I was ashamed, 
 
 And so I am worthy to be blamed: 
 
 Thus may I well my selfe hate. 
 
 Of whome shall I now counseyll take? 
 
 I thynke that I shall never spede 
 
 Tyll that I go to my Good Dede ; 
 
 But, alas ! she is so weke 
 
 That she can nother go nor speke ; 
 
 Yet wyll I venter on her now. 
 
 My Good Dedes, where be you ? 
 
 GOOD DEDES. 
 
 Here I lye colde in the grounde ; 
 Thy synnes hath me sore bounde 
 That I can not stere [stir] . 
 
 EVEBYMAN. 
 
 O Good Dedes, I stande in 54 fere. 
 I must you praye of counseyll, 
 For helpe now sholde come ryght well. 
 
 [Good Dedes
 
 108 EVERYMAN 
 
 GOOD DEDES. 
 
 Everyman, I have understandynge 
 That ye be somoned a counte to make 
 Before Myssyas of Jherusalem kynge, 
 And you do by me that journay with you wyll I 
 * take. 68 
 
 EVEEYMAN. 
 
 Therfore I come to you my mone to make, 
 I praye you that ye wyll go with me. 
 
 GOOD DEDES. 
 I wolde full fayne, but I can not stande veryly. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 Why, is there ony thynge on you fall? 
 
 GOOD DEDES. 
 
 Ye, syr, I may thanke you of 56 all. 
 If ye had parfytely chered me, 
 Your boke of counte full redy nowe had be. 
 Loke, the bokes of your workes and dedes [deeds] 
 
 eke; 
 
 A ! se 6T how they lye under the fete, 
 To your soules hevynes. 
 
 EVEEYMAN. 
 
 Our Lorde Jesus helpe me, 
 For one letter here I can not se. 
 
 [Good Dedes
 
 EVERYMAN 109 
 
 GOOD DEDES. 
 There is a blynde reckenynge in tyme of dystres! 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Good Dedes, I praye you helpe me in this nede, 
 Or elles I am for ever dampned in dede ; 
 Therfore helpe me to make rekenynge 
 Before the Redemer of all thynge, 
 That kynge is, and was, and ever shall. 
 
 GOOD DEDES. 
 
 Everyman, I am sory of your fall, 
 And fayne wolde I helpe you and I were able. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 Good Dedes, your counseyll, I praye you, gyve me. 
 
 GOOD DEDES. 
 
 That shall I do veryly ; 
 Thoughe that on my fete I may not go, 
 I have a syster that shall with you also, 
 Called Knowlege, whiche shall with you abyde, 
 To helpe you to make that dredeful rekenynge. 
 
 KNOWLEGE. 
 
 Everyman, I wyll go with the, and be thy gyde 
 In thy moost nede to go by thy syde. 
 
 [Everyman
 
 110 EVERYMAN 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 In good oondycyon I am now in every thynge, 
 And am hole content with this good thynge, 
 Thanked be God my creator. 
 
 GOOD DEDES. 
 
 'And whan he hath brought the there, 
 Where thou shalt hele the of thy smarte, 
 Than go thou with thy rekenynge and thy good dedes 
 
 togyder, 
 
 For to make the joyfull at herte 
 Before the blessed Trynyte. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 My Good Dedes, gramercy ; 58 
 I am well content certaynly 
 With your wordes swete. 
 
 KNOWLEGE. 
 
 Now go we togyder lovyngly 
 To Confessyon, that clensynge ryvere. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 For joy I wepe : I wolde we were there ! 
 But, I pray you, gyve me cognycyon, 59 
 Where dwelleth that holy man Confessyon? 
 
 KNOWLEGE. 
 
 \sC5> Sc"' 
 
 In the hous of salvacyon ; 
 We shall f ynde hym in that place, 
 That shall us comforte by Goddes grace. 
 
 [Lc
 
 EVERYMAN 111 
 
 Lo, this is Confessyon : knele downe, and aske mercy, 
 For he is in good conceyte with God almyghty. 
 
 EVEBYMAN. 
 
 gloryous fountayne that all unclenenes doth 
 
 claryfy, 
 
 Wasshe fro me the spottes of vyce unclene, 
 That on me no synne may be sene ; 
 I come with Knowlege for my redempcyon, 
 Redempte with herte and full contrycyon, 
 For I am commaunded a pylgrymage to take, 
 And grete accountes before God to make. 
 Now I pray you, Shryfte, moder of salvacyon, 
 Helpe my good dedes for my pyteous exclamacyon. 
 
 CONFESSYON. 
 
 1 knowe your sorowe well, Everyman. 
 Because with Knowlege ye come to me, 
 I wyll you comf orte as well as I can ; 
 And a precyous Jewell I wyll gyve the, 
 Called penaunce, voyce voyder 60 of adversyte; 
 Therwith shall your body chastysed be 
 
 With abstynence and perseveraunce in Goddes ser- 
 
 vyce; 
 
 Here shall you receyve that scourge of me 
 Whiche is penaunce stronge that ye must endure, 
 To remember thy Savyour was scourged for the 
 With sharpe scourges, and suffred it pacyently ; 
 So must thou or [ere] thou scape that paynful pyl- 
 grymage. 
 
 [Knowlege
 
 112 EVERYMAN 
 
 Knowlege, kepe hym in this vyage, 
 
 And by that tyme Good Dedes wyll be with the; 
 
 But in ony wyse be seker [sure] of mercy, 
 
 For your tyme draweth fast and ye wyll saved be ; 
 
 Aske God mercy, and he wyll graunte truely 
 
 Whan with the scourge of penaunce man doth hym 
 
 bynde, 
 The oyle of forgyvenes than shall he fynde. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Thanked be God for his gracyous werke, 
 For nowe I wyll my penaunce begyn ; 
 This hath rej oysed and lyghted my herte, 
 Though the knottes be paynful and harde within. 
 
 KNOWLEGE. 
 
 Everyman, loke your penaunce that ye fulfyll, 
 What payne that ever it to you be ; 
 And Knowlege 61 shall gyve you counseyll at wyll, 
 How your accounte ye shall make clerely. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 O eternal God, o hevenly fygure, 
 O way of ryghtwysnes, o goodly vysyon, 
 Whych dyscended downe in a vyrgyne pure 62 
 Because he wolde every man redeme, 
 Which Adam f orf ayted by his disobedyence ; 
 O blessyd Godheed, electe and hye devyne, 
 Forgyve my grevous offence ! 
 Here I crye the mercy in this presence: 
 O ghostly treasure, o raunsomer and redemer! 
 
 [Of all
 
 O ETERNAL GOD, O HEVENLY FYGURE."
 
 EVERYMAN 113 
 
 Of all the worlde, hope and conduyter, 63 
 
 Myrrour of joye, foundatour [foundation] of mercy, 
 
 Whiche enlumyneth heven and erth therby, 
 
 Here my clamorous complaynt, though it late be ! 
 
 Receyve my prayers ! unworthy in this hevy lyfe, 64 
 
 Though I be a synner most abhomynable, 
 
 Yet let my name be wryten in Moyses table. 
 
 Mary, praye to the maker of all thynge 
 Me for to helpe at my endynge, 
 
 And save me fro the power of my enemy ! 
 
 For Dethe assayleth me strongly: 
 
 And, Lady, that I may, by meane of thy prayer, 
 
 Of your sones glory to be partynere, 
 
 By the meanes of his passyon, I it crave; 
 
 1 beseche you, helpe my soule to save ! 
 Knowlege, gyve me the scourge of penaunce, 
 My flesshe therwith shall gyve acqueyntance ; 65 
 I wyll now begyn, yf God gyve me grace. 
 
 KNOWLEGE. 
 
 Everyman, God gyve you tyme and space! 
 Thus I bequeth you in the handes of our Savyour; 
 Now may you make your rekenynge sure. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 In the name of the holy Trynyte 
 My body sore punyshed shall be, 
 Take this body for the synne of the flesshe; 
 Also thou delytest to go gay and freshe, 
 And in the way of dampnacyon thou dyd me brynge ; 
 Therf ore suffre now strokes of punysshynge ; 
 
 [Now
 
 114 EVERYMAN 
 
 Now of penaunce I wyll wade the water clere, 
 To save me from purgatory, that sharpe fyre. 68 
 
 GOOD DEDES. 
 
 I thanke God now I can walke and go, 
 And am delyvered of my sykenesse and wo! 
 Therfore with Everyman I wyll go, and not spare, 
 His good workes I wyll helpe hym to declare. 
 
 KNOWLEGE. 
 
 Now, Everyman, be mery and glad, 
 Your Good Dedes cometh now, ye may not be sad; 
 Now is your Good Dedes hole and sounde, 
 Goynge upryght upon the grounde. 
 
 EVEEYMAN. 
 
 My herte is lyght and shall be evermore; 
 Now wyll I smyte faster than I dyde before. 
 
 GOOD DEDES. 
 
 Everyman, pylgryme, my special frende, 
 Blessyd be thou without ende ; 
 For the is preparate the eternale glorye. 
 Ye have me made hole and sounde, 
 Therfore I wyll byde by the in every stounde. 67 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Welcome, my Good Dedes ! Now I here thy voyce, 
 I wepe for swetenes of love. 
 
 [Knowlege
 
 EVERYMAN 115 
 
 KXOWLEGE. 
 
 Be no more sad, but ever re Joyce, 
 God seeth thy lyvynge in his trone above; 
 Put on this garment to thy behove, 
 Which is wette with your teres, 
 Or elles 68 before God you may it mysse, 
 When ye to your journeys ende come shall. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Gentyll Knowlege, what do you y t call ? 
 
 KNOWLEGE. 
 
 It is the garment of sorowe, 
 Fro payne it wyll you borowe ; 
 Contrycyon it is, 
 That getteth forgyvenes, 
 It pleaseth God passynge well. 
 
 GOOD DEDES. 
 Everyman, wyll you were it for you hele [health] ? 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Now blessyd be Jesu, Maryes sone, 
 For nowe have I on true contrycyon : 
 And lette us go now without taryenge. 
 Good Dedes, have we clere our rekenynge. 
 
 GOODE DEDES. 
 Ye, in dede, I have them 68 here. 
 
 [Everyman
 
 116 EVERYMAN 
 
 EVEEYMAN. 
 
 Than I trust we nede not fere. 
 Now, frendes, let us not parte in twayne. 
 
 .ce-\ CG>U' vafttu 
 
 KNOWLEGE. 70 
 
 Nay, Everyman, that wyll we not certayne. 
 
 GOOD DEDES. 
 
 Yet must thou leade with the 
 Thre persones of grete myght. 
 
 EVEEYMAN. 
 Who sholde they be? 
 
 GOOD DEDES. 
 
 Dyscrecyon and Strengthe they hyght [are called], 
 And thy Beaute may not abyde behynde. 
 
 KNOWLEGE. 
 
 Also ye must call to mynde 
 Your Fyve Wyttes as for your counseylours. 
 
 GOOD DEDES. 
 ' You must have them ready at all houres. 
 
 EVEEYMAN. 
 Howe shall I gette them hyder? 
 
 [Kynrede
 
 EVERYMAN 117 
 
 KYNREDE. 
 
 You must call them all togyder, 
 And they wyll here you incontynent. 71 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 My frendes, come hyder and be present, 
 Dyscrecyon, Strengthe, my Fyve Wyttes 7 * and 
 Beaute. 
 
 BEAUTE. 
 
 Here at your wyll we be all redy ; 
 What wyll ye that we shulde do? 
 
 GOOD DEDES. 
 
 That ye wolde with Everyman go, 
 And helpe hym in his pylgrymage. 
 Advyse you, wyll ye with hym or not in that vyage ? 
 
 STRENGTHE. 
 
 We wyll brynge hym all thyder 
 To his helpe and comforte, 73 ye may beleve me. 
 
 DYSCRECYON. 
 So wyll we go with hym all togyder. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Almyghty God, loved myght thou be ; 
 I gyve the laude that I have hyder brought 
 Strengthe, Dyscrecyon, Beaute, Fyve Wyttes, lacke 
 I nought 
 
 [And
 
 118 EVERYMAN 
 
 And my Good Dedes, with Knowlege clere, 
 
 All be in my company at my wyll here ; 
 
 I desyre no more to my besynes [business]. 74 
 
 STRENGTHS. 
 
 And I Strengthe wyll by you stande in dystres, 
 Though thou wolde in batayle fyght on the grounde. 
 
 FYVE WYTTES. 
 
 And though it were thrugh the worlde rounde, 
 We wyll not departe for swete ne soure. 
 
 BEATTTE. 
 
 No more wyll I unto dethes houre, 
 Watsoever thereof befall. 
 
 DYSCRECYON. 
 
 Everyman, advyse you fyrst of all, 
 Go with a good advysement and delyberacyon. 
 We all gyve you vertuous monycyon 
 That all shall be well. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 My f rendes, harken what I wyll tell ; 
 I praye God rewarde you in his heven spere. 
 Now herken all that be here, 
 For I wyll make my testament 
 Here before you all present: 
 
 [In almes
 
 EVERYMAN H 9 
 
 In almes, halfe my good I wyll gyve with my handes 
 
 twayne 
 
 In the way of charyte with good entent, 
 And the other halfe styll shall remayne 
 In queth to be retourned 75 there it ought to be. 
 This I do in despyte of the fende of hell, 
 To gon quyte out of his perell 
 Ever after and this daye. 
 
 KNOWLEGE. 
 
 Everyman, herken what I saye ; 
 Go to presthode, I you advyse, 
 And receyve of him in ony wyse 
 The holy sacrament and oyntement 7e togyder, 
 Than shortly se ye tourne agayne hyder ; 
 We wyll all abyde you here. 
 
 FYVE WYTTES. 
 
 Ye, Everyman, hye you that ye redy were. 
 There is no emperour, kynge, duke, ne baron 
 That of God hath commycyon, 
 
 As hath the leest preest in the worlde beynge [being] ; 
 For of the blessyd sacramentes pure and benygne 
 
 [benign] 
 
 He bereth the keyes, and thereof hath the cure 
 For mannes redempcyon, it is ever sure, 
 Whiche God for our soules medycyne 
 Gave us oute of his herte with grete payne, 
 Here in this transytory lyfe for the and me. 
 The blessyd sacramentes vn there be, 
 
 [Baptym
 
 120 EVERYMAN 
 
 Baptym, confyrmacyon, with preesthode good, 
 And the sacrament of Goddes precyous flesshe and 
 
 blood, 
 
 Maryage, the holy extreme unccyon, and penaunce; 
 These seven be good to have in remembraunce, 
 Gracyous sacramentes of hye devynyte. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Fayne wolde I receyve that holy body, 
 And mekely to my ghostly fader I wyll go. 
 
 FYVE WYTTES. 
 
 Everyman, that is the best that ye can do ; 
 God wyll you to salvacyon brynge, 
 For preesthode excedeth all other thynge; 
 To us holy scrypture they do teche, 
 And converteth man fro synne heven to reche ; 
 God hath to them more power gyven 
 Than to ony aungell that is in heaven. 
 With v wordes he may consecrate 
 Goddes body in flesshe and blode to make, 77 
 And handeleth his maker bytwene his handes; 
 The preest byndeth and unbyndeth all bandes 
 Bothe in erthe and in heven ; 
 Thou 78 mynystres all the sacramentes seven ; 
 Though we kysse thy fete thou were worthy, 
 Thou art surgyon that cureth synne deedly ; 
 No remedy we fynde under God, 
 But all onely preesthode. 
 Everyman, God gave preestes that dygnyte, 
 And setteth them in his stede amonge us to be ; 
 Thus be they above aungelles in degree. 
 
 [Knowlege
 
 EVERYMAN 121 
 
 KNOWLEGE. 
 
 If preestes be good it is so suerly, 
 But whan Jesu hanged on the crosse with grete 
 
 smarte, 
 
 There he gave out of his blessyd herte 
 The same sacrament in grete tourment; 
 He solde them not to us, that Lorde omnypotent ; 
 Therfore saynt Peter the apostell dothe saye 
 That Jesus curse hath all they 
 Whiche God theyr Savyour do by [buy] or sell, 
 Or they for ony money do take or tell; 
 Synfull preestes gyveth the synners example bad ; 
 Theyr chyldren sytteth by other mennes fyres, I have 
 
 harde, 
 
 And some haunteth womens company, 
 With unclene lyf e, as lustes of lechery ; 
 These be with synne made blynde. 
 
 FYVE WYTTES. 
 
 I trust to God no suche may we fynde ; 
 Therfore let us preesthode honour, 
 And folowe theyr doctryne for our soules socoure. 
 We be theyr shepe, and they shepeherdes be, 
 By whome we all be kepte in suerte. 
 Peas ! for yonder I see Everyman come, 
 Whiche hath made trewe satysfaccyon. 
 
 GOOD DEDES. 
 Me thynke, it is he indede. 
 
 [Everyman
 
 122 EVERYMAN 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Now Jesu be our 79 alder spede! 80 
 I have receyved the sacrament for my redempcyon. 
 And than myne extreme unccyon. 
 Blessyd be all they that counseyled me to take it ! 
 And now, frendes, let us go without longer respyte; 
 I thanke God that ye have taryed so longe. 
 Now set eche of you on this rodde your honde. 
 And shortely folowe me: 
 I go before, there I wolde be : God be our gyde ! 
 
 STRENGTHE. 
 
 Everyman, we wyll not fro you go, 
 Tyll ye have gone this vyage longe. 
 
 DYSCRECYON. 
 
 I, Dyscrecyon, wyll byde by you also. 
 KNOWLEGE. 
 
 And though this pylgrymage be never so stronge, 
 I wyll never parte you fro. 
 Everyman, I wyll be as sure by the 
 As ever I was by Judas Machabee. 81 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Alas ! I am so f aynt I may not stande, 
 My lymmes under me do f olde. 
 Frendes, let us not tourne agayne to this lande, 
 Not for all the worldes golde, 
 For into this cave must I crepe, 
 And torne to the erthe and there slepe. 82 
 
 [Beaute
 
 EVERYMAN 123 
 
 BEAUTE. 
 What, in to this grave? Alas! 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 , wQ ft- r > 
 
 Ye, there shall ye consume more and lesse. 83 
 
 BEAUTE. 
 And what, sholde I smoder here? 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Ye, by my fayth, and never more appere! 
 In this worlde lyve no more we shall, 
 But in heven before the hyest lorde of all. 
 
 BEAUTE. 
 
 I crosse out all this ! adewe, by saynt Johan ! 
 I take 84 my cappe in my lappe, and ara gone. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 What, Beaute ! whyder wyll ye ? 
 
 BEAUTE. 
 
 Peas ! I am defe, I loke not behynd me, 
 Not and thou woldest gyve me all the golde in thy 
 chest. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Alas! whereto may I truste? 
 Beaute gothe fast awaye fro me, 85 
 She promysed with me to lyve and dye. 
 
 [Strengthe
 
 124 EVERYMAN 
 
 STBENGTHE. 
 
 Everyman, I wyll the also forsake and denye s 
 Thy game lyketh me not at all. 
 
 EVEEYMAN. 
 
 Why, than ye wyll forsake me all! 
 Swete Strengthe, tary a lytel space. 86 
 
 STBENGTHE. 
 
 Nay, syr, by the rode of grace, 
 I wyll hye me from the fast, 
 Though thou wepe till thy hert do brast. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 Ye wolde ever byde by me, ye sayd. 
 
 STRENGTHE. 
 
 Ye, I have you ferre ynoughe conveyde. 
 Ye be olde ynoughe, I understande, 
 Your pylgrymage to take on hande ; 
 I repent me that I hyder came. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Strengthe, you to dysplease I am to blame ; 
 Wyll ye breke promyse that is dette ? 87 
 
 STRENGTHE. 
 
 In f ayth, as for that I care not ! 
 Thou art but a foole to complayne. 
 You spende your spech, and waste your brayne ; 
 Go, thryste [thrust] the into the grounde. 
 
 [Everyman
 
 EVERYMAN 125 
 
 EVEEYMAN. 
 
 I had wende surer I sholde you have founde, 
 But I se well, that trusteth in his Strengthe, 
 She hym deceyveth 88 at the lengthe ; 
 Bothe Strength and Beaute forsaketh me, 
 Yet they promysed me f ayre and lovyngly. 89 
 
 DYSCEECYON. 
 
 Everyman, I wyll after Strength be gone ; 
 As for me, I wyll leve you alone. 
 
 EVEEYMAN. 
 Why, Dyscrecyon, wyll ye forsake me? 
 
 DYSCEECYON. 
 
 Ye, in fayth, I wyll go fro the, 
 For whan Strength goth before 
 I folowe after ever more. 
 
 EVEEYMAN. 
 
 Yet, I pray the for love of the Trynyte, 
 Loke in my grave ones pyteously. 
 
 DYSCEECYON. 
 
 Nay, so nye wyll I not come ! 
 Now farewell fellowes everychone. 
 
 EVEEYMAN. 
 
 O, all thynge fayleth, save God alone : 
 Beaute, Strengthe, and Dyscrecyon ; 
 For, whan Deth bloweth his blast, 
 They all renne fro me full fast. 
 
 [Fyve Wyttes
 
 126 EVERYMAN 
 
 FYVE WYTTES. 
 
 Everyman, my leve now of the I take ; 
 I wyll folowe the other, for here I the forsake. 
 
 EVEEYMAN. 
 
 Alas ! than may I wayle and wepe, 
 For I toke you for my best frende. 
 
 FYVE WYTTES. 
 
 I wyll no lenger the kepe ; 
 Now farewell, and here an ende. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 O Jesu, helpe! all hath forsaken me. 
 
 GOOD DEDES. 
 
 Nay, Everyman, I wyll byde with the, 
 I wyll not forsake the in dede ; 
 Thou shalte fynde me a good frende at nede. 
 
 EVEEYMAN. 
 
 Gramercy, Good Dedes, now may I true f rendes se ; 
 They have forsaken me everychone ; 
 I loved them better than my Good Dedes alone ; 
 Knowlege, wyll ye forsake me also? 
 
 KNOWLEGE. 
 
 Ye, Everyman, whan ye to deth shall go, 
 But not yet for no maner of daunger. 
 
 [Everyman
 
 NAY, EVERYMAN, I WILL BYDE WITH THE.
 
 EVERYMAN 127 
 
 r 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 Gramercy, Knowlege, with all my herte. 
 
 KNOWLEGE. 
 
 Nay, yet I wyll not from hens departe, 
 Tyll I se where ye shall be come. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Me thynke, alas ! that I must be gone 
 To make my rekenynge, and my dettes paye ; 
 For I se my tyme is nye spente away. 
 Take example, all ye that this do here or se, 
 How they that I love best do forsake me, 
 Excepte my Good Dedes that bydeth truely. 
 
 GOOD DEDES. 
 
 All erthly thynges is but vanyte, 
 Beaute, Strengthe, and Dyscrecyon do man forsake, 
 Folysshe frendes and kynnesmen that fayre spake, 
 All fleeth save Good Dedes, and that am I. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Have mercy on me, God moost myghty, 
 And stande by me, thou moder and mayde, holy Mary. 
 
 GOOD DEDES. 
 Fere not, I wyll speke for the. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 Here I crye, God mercy ! 
 
 [Good Dedes
 
 128 EVERYMAN 
 
 GOOD DEDES. 
 
 Shorte our ende and mynyshe our payne ; 
 Let us go and never come agayne. 
 
 EVERYMAN. 
 
 Into thy handes, Lorde, my soule I commende. 
 Receyve it, Lorde, that it be not lost ! 
 As thou me boughtest, so me defende, 
 And save me fro the fendes boost [fiend's boast] 
 That I may appere with that blessyd hoost 
 That shall be saved at the day of dome: 
 In manus tuas, of myghtes moost, 
 For ever commendo spiritum meum. QO 
 
 KNOWLEGE. 
 
 Now hath he suffred that we all shall endure, 
 The good dedes shall make all sure. 
 Now hath he made endynge, 
 Me thynketh that I here aungelles synge, 
 And make grete joy and melody, 
 Where every mannes 91 soule receyved shall be. 
 
 THE AUNGELL. 
 
 Come, excellente electe spouse to Jesu ! 
 Here above thou shalte go, 
 Because of thy synguler vertue. 
 Now thy soule is taken thy body fro, 
 Thy rekenynge is crystall clere ; 
 Now shalte thou into the hevenly spere, 
 Unto the whiche all ye shall come 
 That lyveth well, before the daye of dome 
 
 [Doctour
 
 EVERYMAN 129 
 
 DOCTOUB. 
 
 This morall men 92 may have in mynde : 
 Ye herers, take it of 93 worth, olde and yonge, 
 And forsake pryde, for he deceyveth you in the ende, 
 And remember Beaute, Fyve Wyttes, Strengthe, and 
 
 Dyscrecyon. 
 
 They all at the last do Everyman forsake, 
 Save his Good Dedes, there doth he take. 94 
 But beware, and they be small, 
 Before God he hath no helpe at all ; 
 None excuse may be there for Everyman. 
 Alas! howe shall he do than? 
 For after dethe amendes may no man make, 
 For than mercy and pyte doth hym forsake ; 
 If his rekenynge be not clere whan he doth come, 
 God wyll saye Ite, maledicti, in ignem aeternum. 
 And he that hath his accounte hole and sounde 
 Hye in heven he shall be crounde, 
 Unto whiche place God bringe us all thyder, 
 That we may lyve body and soule togyder ! 
 Therto helpe the Trynyte! 
 Amen, saye ye, for saynt Charyte. 
 
 FINIS 
 
 Thus endeth this morall playe of Everyman. 95
 
 APPENDIX
 
 NOTES TO INTRODUCTION 
 
 1. An example of the trope is well illustrated in 
 the following which is taken from Gautier's Hist, de 
 la Poesie Liturg. au Moyen Age. Les Tropes [pp. 
 2-3]. The Introit to the Mass of Christmas Morn- 
 ing reads (Roman Liturgy) : 
 
 Puer natus est nobis, et filius datus est nobis, cujus 
 imperium super humerum ejus, et vocabitur nomen 
 ejus magni consilii angelus (Isaiah ix. 6). 
 
 In trope: Gaudeamus hodie quia Deus descendit de 
 coelis, et propter nos in terris Puer natus est nobis, 
 quern Prophetse diu vaticinati sunt. Et filius 
 datus est nobis. Hunc a Patre jam novimus ad- 
 venisse in mundum Cujus imperium super humerum 
 ejug, potestas et regnum in manu ejus. Et voca- 
 bitur nomen ejus Admirabilis, consiliarius, Deus 
 fortis, princeps pacis, magni consilii angelus. 
 The relation, however, between the trope and the 
 
 later liturgical and passion plays is a difficult, yet 
 
 an important, one to establish. 
 
 2. In Das Drama des Mittelalters, R. Froning, 
 appear examples of this change to the vernacular, in 
 the German development. From the Trier Easier 
 Play, the following is quoted (vide vol. i, p. 51, 11. 
 50-53) : 
 
 Tune angeli cantant : 
 
 Quern queritis, O tremule mulieres, in hoc tumulo 
 plorantes ? 
 
 133
 
 134 NOTES 
 
 Et primus angelus dicit rickmum : 
 
 Wenen sucht ir drij f rauwen 
 
 myd jamer un myt ruwen 
 
 also frue inn dyessem grabe 
 
 an dyssem osterlychen tage? 
 
 Note the translation is fairly close, with but a slight 
 idea added. 
 From the BenediJctbeur Passion Play, the earliest 
 
 Passion play extant (end of Xlllth century, or 
 
 beginning of XlVth century), the following is 
 
 quoted (vide p. 286, 11. 27-30; 35-41) : 
 Modo vadat Maria cum puellis ad mercatorem can- 
 
 tando: 
 
 Michi confer, venditor, species emendas 
 
 pro multa pecunia tibi iam reddenda ! 
 
 si quid habes insuper ordoramentorum : 
 
 nam volo perungere corpus hoc decorum. . . . 
 Maria Magdalena : 
 
 Chramer, gip die varwe mier, 
 
 diu min wengel roete, 
 
 da mit ich di jungen man 
 
 an ir danch der minnenliebe noete ! 
 Item: 
 
 Seht mich an, 
 
 jungen man! 
 
 Lat mich eu gevallen ! 
 
 Note the free translation, lyrical style, and popular 
 quality. There are two more stanzas in a similar 
 strain. 
 
 3. We quote from Mr. Charles Davidson's invalu- 
 able monograph on the English Mystery Plays (Yale 
 Univ., 1892) concerning the puys:
 
 NOTES 135 
 
 " In France, the puy, that shadowy literary 
 academy of the Middle Ages, was the immediate 
 successor of the clergy. These puys, semi-reli- 
 gious, semi-literary, were very numerous in the 
 west and north of France. During the Xlth and 
 Xllth centuries they were devoted to the service 
 of the Virgin, and the members composed verse in 
 her honor, but in the Xlllth century the influ- 
 ence of the lay members led to a broader literary 
 life, and they cultivated zealously the religious 
 drama. To some puy the cycle of Notre-Dame is 
 attributed. In the Puy d'Arras, it is believed, the 
 comedies of Adam de la Halle were played. These 
 literary societies, about the XVth century, turned 
 to other lines of literary activity, to Moralities, 
 farces, chansons, chants, royaux, etc., the Mys- 
 tery falling to the various societies of confreres, 
 of which the Confreres de la Passion, of Paris, was 
 the most famous." 
 
 4. The development of the drama in Germany is 
 not here considered at length, since the limits and 
 scope of the Introduction would not allow it. The 
 French period of transition, being a typical one and 
 directly influencing the English, must necessarily be 
 treated, since without it, the English Mysteries would 
 appear isolated, and as a growth peculiar to English 
 soil. The reader will see that the Anglo-Norman 
 combine did much to establish the English religious 
 drama. However, Germany is rich in material, and 
 has been worked up by authorities mentioned in the 
 bibliography. 
 
 5. Theophile sells his soul to Satan, and finally
 
 136 NOTES 
 
 repents and is saved ; the play thus had a strong theo- 
 logical motive for those who witnessed it. An anal- 
 ogy is traced in Goethe's Faust. 
 
 6. Some idea of the length of the French Mys- 
 teries may be obtained from the following list, based 
 upon De Julleville : 
 
 Saint Etienne 346 verses (only a fragment). 
 Acts of Apostles 61,908 verses. 
 Old Testament 50,000 verses. 
 New Testament 180,000 verses. 
 
 7. Professor Edwin R. A. Seligman (Med. Gilds 
 of Eng.) thus describes the duties of the Gild Mer- 
 chant : 
 
 " It was instituted solely for the purpose of secur- 
 ing exemptions from commercial burdens and 
 enjoying a practical monopoly of municipal 
 trade. It possessed property, enjoyed the priv- 
 ilege of self-government, often formed conven- 
 tions with the gild of a neighboring town to 
 afford reciprocal rights of free entry and exit, 
 was not without a certain jurisdiction, although 
 always subordinate to the court leet, and often 
 attained sufficient importance to become, to a 
 limited extent, an integral part of the civic ad- 
 ministration [through its members belonging to 
 civic organizations]." 
 
 The craft gilds represented the laboring rather 
 than the merchant class. The members of a par- 
 ticular trade united, writes Professor Seligman, 
 not for political protection, but to obtain economic 
 advantages and supervision of its members ; to pre- 
 vent individuals from gaining unfair advantage
 
 NOTES 137 
 
 over others. It was not developed from the Gild 
 Merchant; it rarely opposed the Gild Merchant. A 
 craftsman could become a member of this higher 
 body. 
 
 8. It must not be inferred that the four cycles 
 here mentioned represent the extent of the Mystery 
 play in England. In the Appendix to The English 
 Religious Drama, Katharine Lee Bates gives a sum- 
 mary of the plays, showing that at one time there 
 existed cycles in London, Worcester, and Beverley; 
 besides the four principal cycles treated of in the In- 
 troduction, there are also extant plays from Corn- 
 wall, Dublin, Newcastle-on-Tyne, Norfolk, Norwich, 
 and Digby. See also E. K. Chambers' The Mediceval 
 Stage, vol. ii., Appendix X., p. 407 seq. 
 
 9. The following is quoted from a letter written 
 by the husband of Edith Wynne Matthison Charles 
 Rann Kennedy, Esquire outlining the method by 
 which his wife arrived at her perfect interpretation 
 of the role of Everyman. The editor wishes to ac- 
 knowledge his indebtedness to Mr. Kennedy for the 
 privilege of quoting it, and for his interest through- 
 out the preparation of this edition : 
 
 " The costumes, scenery, accessories, and the 
 general scheme of the * business ' of Everyman 
 were solely due to Mr. William Poel, the founder 
 of the Elizabethan Stage Society of England, but 
 to Mrs. Kennedy is due everything that translates 
 the part into a living reality not only those lit- 
 tle subtleties of ' business ' and stage-movement 
 that make her performance a model of dramatic 
 technique, but also that deep psychological under-
 
 138 NOTES 
 
 standing, and that spiritual exaltation which give 
 it unity, consistence, and ' grip ' ! In the purely 
 psychological analysis of the play, I suppose I 
 must say that she was partly indebted to myself 
 to four lectures that I delivered in London at Mr. 
 Poel's request, when he first produced the play 
 there. 
 
 " The main points in this analysis took regard 
 (first), of the increasingly narrowing rings of ob- 
 jective influence to which Everyman makes appeal 
 for company on his long journey: commencing 
 with Fellowship the outermost ring of all he 
 finally appeals to Goods of all the objectives (so 
 to speak) of the soul, the term nearest. Then 
 (secondly) the subjective analysis begins, and this 
 also is worked out relentlessly, until finally only 
 the naked soul itself returns to its God, the Good 
 Deeds following after. 
 
 " Again, another thread in the symbolism of the 
 story we discovered in the fact that Everyman, up 
 to the point of penance, seems to be merely man in 
 the single, personal, you-and-I sense of the word; 
 but after that point he takes on a double symbol- 
 ism typifying Christ, the ' All-man ' ; following 
 out which hint, my wife converted (mentally) the 
 great prayer into the agony of Gethsemane, the 
 procession into the way of the Cross, the failure 
 of the soul's outermost functions into the denial of 
 Peter and the forsaking of the disciples, and so 
 forth. Moreover, I should like to say, too, that it 
 matters little whether the audience directly or in- 
 tellectually perceives my wife's intention in these
 
 NOTES 139 
 
 points ; but it means practically everything that she 
 should perceive it else the true unity and con- 
 sistency of the part were impossible. 
 
 " We understood Knowledge to represent prac- 
 tically the Church the Bride of Christ in Hertflf 
 as distinct from the Church in function as sym- 
 bolized through Confession: a mediaeval distinction 
 which I think is worth noticing; Knowledge here, 
 of course, meaning divine knowledge (the Church 
 being the depository thereof) as distinct from Dis- 
 cretion the mere discerning, separating, intellec- 
 tual faculty who fails finally with the rest. . . . 
 
 " The order in which the four abstractions fade 
 away is interesting and my wife tries to convey 
 their import by her acting : Beauty first the out- 
 ermost expression of the soul; then Strength, 
 which underlies and quickens Beauty ; next Discre- 
 tion that which, among other functions, directs 
 Strength, and lastly the five metaphysical wits, or 
 what one may call the instincts of Discretion. Then 
 the soul itself is left free."
 
 NOTES TO EVERYMAN 
 
 [I have to acknowledge my indebtedness, in editing 
 the text of Everyman, to Mr. Alfred Pollard, 
 whose notes in his edition of English Miracle 
 Plays proved of great value; to Hawkins, who, 
 in his The Origin of the English Drama, made 
 some text changes that have been noted ; and to 
 Hazlitt's edition of Dodsley's Old English Plays 
 (vol. i). 
 
 May I add further my appreciation of the helpful 
 suggestions received from Professor Brander 
 Matthews, of Columbia University ; from Dr. 
 Horace Howard Furness, editor of the Variorum 
 Shakespeare; from Rev. Joseph H. McMahon, 
 director of the New York Cathedral Library; 
 and from Mr. Ben Greet, whose artistic insight 
 did much to make the presentation of Everyman 
 an established fact. I also wish to acknowledge 
 the courtesies that have been extended to me by 
 the Libraries of Columbia and Harvard Uni- 
 versities. 
 
 I here desire to express my deep appreciation of the 
 exquisite work of Mrs. Charles Rann Kennedy 
 (Edith Wynne Matthison) in her re-creation of 
 the role of Everyman. It was marked by the 
 rich quality of her reading and by the refined 
 intensity of her spiritual passion. Of her it 
 might be said that in voice and gesture she 
 would have found the rare, keen praise of Lamb. 
 
 140
 
 NOTES Ul 
 
 In editing the text, I have considered carefully the 
 corrections made by the different editors before 
 me, and have adopted those changes I thought 
 consistent. In the following notes I have called 
 attention to important text differences that have 
 peculiar interest in themselves. The abbrevia- 
 tions D., H., and P., wherever they occur, stand 
 respectively for Dodsley, Hawkins, and Pollard. 
 The present editor is alone responsible for de- 
 cisions as to changes in readings and punctua- 
 tions.] 
 
 1. A cut of Everyman and Dethe follows this in the 
 
 old editions. It may be found in Hawkin's 
 The Origm of the English Drama, and in 
 Dodsley's Old English Plays. In Dodsley are 
 likewise given cuts of other characters in the 
 play. 
 
 2. The Dramatis Persona are given in the order in 
 
 which appearance in play is made. 
 
 3. The Messenger is the same character as the Doc- 
 
 tour of the epilogue. 
 
 4. Skot reads wonderous. 
 
 5. Although the capital letter J was not introduced 
 
 until A. D. 1630, it has been used throughout 
 the text to avoid confusion. 
 
 6. Certain lines would lead one to believe Christ the 
 
 Speaker; Hawkins and Percy think so. But 
 the general spirit of the speech indicates the 
 Father. Dodsley (Hazlitt) thinks the Father 
 is meant. 
 
 7. ghostly: vid. ghoste: spirit. 
 
 8. appayreth: impaireth, grow worse (D).
 
 142 NOTES 
 
 9. renne: run. 
 
 10. heven kynge: heaven's kmg (D). 
 
 11. Pollard gives asketh. 
 
 12. Pollard calls attention to Lincoln ed., which in 
 
 place of ado writes / do; Hawkins follows 
 Lincoln; Dodsley does not. 
 
 13. reste: arrest; D. prints 'rrest. 
 
 14. Dodsley inserts thou. 
 
 15. in no way can this be. 
 
 16. seke: sick. 
 
 17. Dodsley inserts for editorially. 
 
 18. And could I have xil years respite. 
 
 19. The touch in this line is characteristically medi- 
 
 eval. 
 
 20. be gete: been born, or been begotten. 
 
 21. What though I should to Fellowship thereof 
 
 speak. 
 
 22. // any have wronged you. 
 
 23. The line is short, whereas account would seem 
 
 consistent. 
 
 24. Adonay: Hebrew for Lord God. 
 
 25. sothe: sooth. 
 
 26. The text might read Felawshyp; Dodsley edits 
 
 fellowship). 
 
 27. To bringe me forwarde reads to escort me (P). 
 
 28. Pollard reads thou for you. 
 
 29. It is thought by some that this should be en- 
 
 dynge to rime with the following line. 
 
 30. With this line, so Dodsley notes, Pynson's edi- 
 
 tion begins abruptly, the rest of the text being 
 given in full. 
 
 31. Proverbial expression.
 
 NOTES 143 
 
 32. In this line the rime is broken ; should there be 
 
 a rime ending? Dodsley adds lo. 
 
 33. Dodsley reads do not spare. 
 
 34. With additions, this line is interpreted by 
 
 Dodsley as follows : We will live and die to- 
 gether. 
 
 35. Hawkins would transpose the rimes holde and 
 
 bolde. Context would not justify this change. 
 
 36. Dodsley reads but. 
 
 37. on understood. 
 
 38. Medieval humor largely reached through bodily 
 
 discomfort. 
 
 39. Skot, according to Hawkins, reads / will not. 
 
 Dodsley does not agree. 
 
 40. Dodsley reads No in place of Now. 
 
 41. Dodsley inserts life, to which the text points. 
 
 42. Proverbial expression. 
 
 43. In place of he Dodsley reads it. 
 
 44. Why, do you hasten? 
 
 45. Dodsley reads / have had my pleasure in thee. 
 
 46. Insertion of now by D. 
 
 47. Pollard has a seemingly arbitrary way of spell- 
 
 ing not; sometimes nat. I have adopted the 
 uniform not. 
 
 48. lesynge: loosing, releasing; inevitably (Far- 
 
 mer). 
 
 49. Dodsley reads for the love of me. 
 
 50. Dodsley reads have be. 
 
 51. or has the force of before; Dodsley reads ere. 
 
 52. wyte: blame (Sidgwick). 
 
 53. Dodsley reads Nay, not fro this world. 
 
 54. Pollard and Dodsley both insert great.
 
 144 NOTES 
 
 55. Pollard reads And you do by me the journay 
 
 with you wyll I take. He further interprets 
 the first part of the line as meaning: If you 
 will act by my advice. Dodsley agrees with 
 above. Hawkins reads what. 
 
 56. Of has the force of for. 
 
 57. Instead of A ! se, Dodsley reads Behold. 
 
 58. Dodsley reads / thank thee heartfully. 
 
 59. Dodsley reads I pray you to instruct me by in- 
 
 tellection (information, knowledge). 
 
 60. Dodsley simply has voider. 
 
 61. Dodsley makes a consistent change to pronoun 
 
 7, since Knowlege is talking ; I leave the name, 
 since it lends the tone of abstractness that 
 makes the play a Morality. 
 
 62. A typical line of the Miracle plays ; as likewise 
 
 the two lines following. 
 
 63. conduyter: conductor. 
 
 64. Dodsley prints this line: prayers of thy benig- 
 
 nity. 
 
 65. Dodsley reads Acquittance. 
 
 66. Dodsley says Skot reads from hell and from the 
 
 fire. 
 
 67. stounde: hour, season; Farmer reads sub sor- 
 
 row, adversity. 
 
 68. In place of or elles, Dodsley reads lest. Fur- 
 
 ther he reads Lest before God it be unsweet. 
 
 69. Pollard gives them, meaning the indications in 
 
 Everyman's book. In Mr. Greet's production, 
 Everyman's " rekenynge boke " is in evidence. 
 
 70. I follow Pollard, in assigning this speech to 
 
 Knowlege. Kynrede, to whom H. assigns it, 
 left with Cosyn some time before.
 
 NOTES 145 
 
 71. incontynent: incontinent. 
 
 72. A note, taken from Hawkins, reads as follows: 
 
 " Five wyttes, i. e., the Five Senses. These 
 are frequently exhibited as five distinct per- 
 sonages upon the Spanish stage (see Ricco- 
 boni, p. 98) but our moralist has represented 
 them all by one character. In Shakespeare's 
 * King Lear,' the Madman says : * Bless thy 
 five wits ! ' meaning the Five Senses." (Percy) 
 Dodsley quotes this also. Thomas Percy, 
 D. D. (Reliq. Ancient Eng. Poetry), writes: 
 "... It may be observed that * Everyman ' 
 is a grave, solemn piece, not without some 
 rude attempts to excite terror and pity, and 
 therefore may not improperly be referred to 
 the class of tragedy. It is remarkable that in 
 this old simple drama the fable is conducted 
 upon the strictest model of the Greek trag- 
 edy. The action is simply one, the time of 
 action is that of the performance, the scene is 
 never changed, nor the stage ever empty. 
 Everyman, the hero of the piece, after his 
 first appearance, never withdraws, except 
 when he goes out to receive the sacraments, 
 which could not well be exhibited in public, 
 and during his absence Knowledge descants 
 on the excellence and power of the priest- 
 hood, somewhat after the manner of the 
 Greek chorus. And, indeed, except in the 
 circumstance of Everyman's expiring on the 
 stage, the ' Samson Agonistes ' of Milton 
 is hardly formed on a severer plan."
 
 146 NOTES 
 
 73. Dodsley reads To help and comfort him. 
 
 74. This note is given by Dodsley : " This portion 
 
 has been collated with the Douce fragment 
 printed by Pynson (Shakespeare Society 
 Papers, III, 149), as well as with the other 
 impression by Pynson in the British 
 Museum." 
 
 75. Dodsley reads / it bequeath to be returned. 
 
 There following would indicate where. 
 
 76. oyntement: unction (D). 
 
 77. Dodsley reads take. 
 
 78. Thou refers to preest; Dodsley gives those* 
 
 which is not consistent. The context could 
 justify the use of pronoun he in lines follow- 
 ing, instead of the direct address as given in 
 Hawkins. Some editions give He. 
 
 79. Skot gives your; so does H. This does not seem 
 
 to be consistent, so I leave our. 
 
 80. Dodsley reads Now Jesus Christ be your alder 
 
 speed. Hawkins omits word Christ. 
 
 81. Skot gives dyde. Pollard refers to /. Mace. 
 
 iii. 3, 4. 
 
 82. Skot reads And tourne to erth and there to 
 
 slepe. This line is assigned to Beaute by 
 Dodsley, and the assignments of lines follow- 
 ing are generally mixed. I have followed the 
 sense of the text. 
 
 83. Instead of ye consume Pollard reads we con- 
 
 sume and interprets more and lesse as mean- 
 ing great people and little. 
 
 84*. Take, meaning doff. 
 
 85. Dodsley reads Beaute doth fast away hie.
 
 NOTES U7 
 
 86. Pynson and Dodsley both read Strength, tary, I 
 
 pray you. 
 
 87. The line as it stands is Skot's; Pollard and 
 
 Dodsley suggest for sake of rime the follow- 
 ing for the proverbial expression : Yet prom- 
 yse is dette, this ye well wot. 
 
 88. Pynson and Dodsley read Is greatly deceived. 
 
 89. For rime, Pynson and Dodsley read Stedfast to 
 
 be; Pollard also. 
 
 90. Dodsley reads Everyman diet. 
 
 91. Dodsley makes this a special reference to Every- 
 
 man. 
 
 92. Dodsley reads This memory all men. 
 
 93. of has the force of for what it is worth. 
 
 94. Dodsley edits: (them he) there doth take. 
 
 95. Two interesting imprints follow the different 
 
 manuscripts, and read: 
 
 Imprynted at London in Poules chyrche yarde 
 
 by me John Skot. 
 Imprynted at London in Flete Strete 1 1 by me 
 
 Rycharde Pynson || prynter to the kynges 
 
 moost noble grace.
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 [The following bibliography is not intended to be 
 exhaustive ; it gives a few works covering the differ- 
 ent periods surveyed in the Introduction. In many 
 of the books mentioned there are to be found .more 
 comprehensive bibliographies for the student who 
 wishes to continue the subject further.] 
 
 THE CHURCH 
 
 ALT, HEINRICH 
 
 Theatre und Kirche in Ihrem Gegenseitigen Ver- 
 haltniss Historisch Dargestellt. (Berlin, 1846) 
 
 BlBLIOTHEaiTE DE I/lSCOLE DBS CHARTES 
 
 Le Clerge Normand au XIIP Siecle. (1846-7, 
 
 p. 479) 
 FISHER, GEORGE PARK 
 
 History of the Christian Church. (N. Y., 1887) 
 LECOY DE LA MARCHE, RICHARD ALBERT 
 
 La Chaire Fran9aise au Moyen Age, speciale- 
 
 ment au XIIP Siecle d'apres les Manuscrits 
 
 Contemporains. (Paris, 1886) 
 MILMAN, HENRY HART 
 
 History of Christianity [bk. iv; vol. iii; ch. i.]. 
 
 (London, 1863) 
 SCHAFF, PHILIP 
 
 History of the Christian Church, from the Birth 
 
 of Christ to the Reign of Constantine. (N. Y., 
 
 1859) 
 
 148
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 149 
 
 FRENCH PERIOD. 
 
 CLEDAT, LEON 
 
 Rutebeuf [Les Grands Ecrivains Francais]. 
 (Paris, 1898) 
 
 COUSSEMAKER, CHARLES EDMOND HENRI 
 
 L'Art Harmonique aux XIP et XIIP Siecles. 
 
 (Paris, 1865) 
 
 Drames Liturgiques du Moyen Age. (Ren- 
 
 nes, 1860) 
 Du MERIL, ^DELSTAND PONTAS 
 
 Les Origines Latines du Theatre Moderne. 
 
 (Paris, 1897) 
 GAUTIER, LEON 
 
 Histoire de la Poesie Liturgique au Moyen Age : 
 
 Les Tropes. (Paris, 1886) 
 JOURNAL DES SAVANTS 
 
 Magnin, C. vide vols. for 1860, 1861. 
 
 JULLEVILLE, LOUIS PETIT DE 
 
 A 
 
 Histoire du Theatre en France au Moyen Age: 
 
 Les Mysteres. [2 vols.] (Paris, 1880) 
 
 Histoire de la Langue et de la Litterature 
 
 Fran9aise des Origines a 1900. [7 vols.] 
 
 (Paris, 1896-99) 
 LA RUE, M. L'ABBE DE 
 
 Essais Historiques sur les Bardes, les Jongleurs, 
 
 et les Trouveres. (Caen, 1834) 
 LAUN, HENRI VAN 
 
 History of French Literature. [3 vols] (N. Y., 
 
 1876) 
 LAVISSE, ERNEST, ET RAMBAUD, A. N. 
 
 Histoire Generale du IV* Siecle a Nos Jour. 
 
 [vol. ii] (Paris, 1893 seq.)
 
 150 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 LEROY, JEAN BAPTISTE ONESIME 
 
 Etudes sur les Mysteres. (Paris, 1837) 
 
 LITTRE, MAXIMILIEN PAUL EMILE 
 
 Etudes sur les Barbares et le Moyen Age. 
 (Paris, 1861) 
 
 LtTCHAIRE, ACHILLE 
 
 Manuel des Institutions Fra^aises, Periode des 
 Capetiens Directs. (Paris, 1892) 
 MAGNIN, CHARLES 
 
 Les Origines du Theatre Antique et du Theatre 
 Moderne; ou, Histoire du Genie Dramatique 
 depuis le I er jusqu'au XVF Siecle. (Paris, 1868) 
 Vide Journal des Savants. 
 
 MONMERQUE ET MlCHEL 
 
 Theatre Fra^ais au Moyen Age [XP-XIV 8 
 
 siecle.] (Paris, 1879) 
 PARIS, GASTON BRUNO PAULIN 
 
 La Litterature Fran9aise au Moyen Age. [XP - 
 
 XIV 6 siecles.] (Paris, 1888) 
 RAYNAUD, GASTON 
 
 Recueil de Motets Fran9ais des XII e et XIIP 
 
 Siecles. [Vol. ii] 
 
 ROY, 13MILE 
 
 Etudes sur le Theatre Francais du XIV e et du 
 XV Siecles .... Les Miracles de Notre- 
 Dame. (Paris, 1902) [This was followed by 
 a second study, " Le Jour du Jugement." Paris, 
 1902.] 
 
 Le Jour du Jugement: Mystere Francais 
 
 sur le Grand Schisme. [6tude sur le Theatre 
 Fran9ais au XIV e siecle.] (Paris, 1902)
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 151 
 
 ROY, EMILE 
 
 Les Mysteres de la Passion en France du XIV* 
 au XVP Siecle (Revue Bourguignonne-Uni- 
 versite de Dijon. 1903, vol. 13, nos. 3-4) [In 
 the second part, vol. 14, 1904, nos. 3-4, the au- 
 thor considers " La Theologie et le Developpe- 
 ment du Mystere de la Passion au XV* siecle.] 
 
 SEPET, MARIUS CYRILLE ALPHONSE 
 
 Le Drame Chretien au Moyen Age. (Paris, 
 1878) 
 
 Les Prophetes du Christ. I^tude sur les 
 
 Origines du Theatre au Moyen Age. (vide Bib- 
 liotheque de 1'ecole des Chartes. Series 6, vols. 
 iii, iv, 1867, 1868) 
 
 Les Plus Anciens Drames en Langue Fran- 
 
 9aise. (Paris, 1894) 
 
 SYMMES, H. S. 
 
 Les Debuts de la Critique Dramatique en Angle- 
 terre. (1893) 
 
 [To quote Professor Schelling : " . . . val- 
 uable material concerning the attitude of the 
 clergy towards the drama."] 
 
 TIVIER, HENRI 
 
 Histoire de la Litterature Dramatique en France 
 depuis ses Origines jusqu'au Cid. (Paris, 1873) 
 
 VITRY, JACQUES DE 
 
 Exempla, or Illustrative Stories from the Ser- 
 moneg Vulgares. (Folk Lore Soc. Pub. ed. 
 Crane.) 
 
 WALLON, HENRI ALEXANDRE 
 
 Saint Louis et Son Temps. (Paris, 1876)
 
 152 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 WlLMOTTE, M. 
 
 La Naissance de 1'Element Comique dans le 
 Theatre Religieux. (In Congres Internationales 
 d'histoire comparee, 1900. Annales interna- 
 tionales d'histoire, 1901, vol. vi, pp. 49-69) 
 
 Les Origines du Drame Liturgique. (Acad. 
 
 Roy. de Belg. Bulletin de la classe des lettres, 
 pp. 715-748, Bruxelles, 1901) 
 
 GERMAN PERIOD. 
 
 BRANDL, A. 
 
 Quellen des weltlichen Dramas in England vor 
 Shakespeare. [Quellen und Forschungen, Ixxx] 
 (1898) 
 
 CEEIZENACH, WILHELM 
 
 Geschichte des neueren Dramas (Halle A. S. 
 verlag von Max Niemeyer) [vol. i Mittelalter 
 und Friihrenaissance (1893) ; vol. ii Renais- 
 sance und Reformation (1901) ; vol iii Renais- 
 sance und Reformation (1903)] 
 
 FRANCKE, KTTNO 
 
 History of German Literature as Determined by 
 Social Forces. (N. Y., 1901) 
 
 FRONING, RICHARD 
 
 Das Drama des Mittelalters. Erster Teil. Die 
 Lateinischen Osterfeiern in Deutschland. Os- 
 terspiele; Passionspiele. (Stuttgart, 1891) 
 
 KLEIN, J. L. 
 
 Geschichte des Dramas. [13 vols.] (Leipzig, 
 1865-76.) [Vol. ii Das Drama der Rdmer; 
 vol. iii Das aussereuropaische Drama und die 
 latein. Schauspiele n. Chr. bis Ende d. X,
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 153 
 
 Jahrhunderts ; vols. xii, xiii Das Englische 
 Drama.] 
 LANGE, CARL 
 
 Die Lateinischen Osterfeiern: Untersuchungen 
 iiber den Ursprung und die Entwickelung der 
 Liturgisch - dramatischen Auferstehnngsfeier. 
 (Munchen, 1887) 
 
 MlLCHSACK, GUSTAV 
 
 Die Oster- und Passionspiele : [vol. i.] Die Lat- 
 einischen Osterfeiern. (Wolfenbiittel, 1880) 
 
 MONE, FEANZ JOSEPH 
 
 Schauspiele des Mittelalters. [2 Bde.] (Karls- 
 ruhe, 1846) 
 
 PEOLSS, KAEL ROBEET 
 
 Geschichte des Neueren Dramas. [3 vols.] 
 (Leipzig, 1880, 1881, 1883) 
 
 WILMOTTE, MAUEICE 
 
 Les Passions Allemandes du Rhin, dans leur 
 Rapport avec 1'Ancien Theatre Fra^ais. 
 [Acad. Roy. de Belgique, Mem. vol. Iv, no. 10] 
 (Brussels, 1896-98) 
 
 WlETH, LUDWIG 
 
 Die Oster- und Passionspiele bis zum XVI Jahr- 
 hundert Beitrage zur Geschichte des Deutschen 
 Dramas. 
 
 ENGLISH PERIOD. 
 
 ASHLEY, WILLIAM JAMES 
 
 Introduction to English Economic History and 
 Theory. (London, 1888-93)
 
 154 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 Beginnings of Town Life in the Middle 
 
 Ages. (Quarterly Journal of Economics, 1896, 
 vol. x, p. 359) 
 
 BATES, KATHARINE LEE 
 
 The English Religious Drama. (N. Y., 1893) 
 
 English Drama : A Working Basis. (Wel- 
 
 lesley College, 1896. Bibliography) 
 
 BATESON, MARY 
 
 Mediaeval England: English Feudal Society 
 from the Norman Conquest to the middle of the 
 Fourteenth Century. [The Story of the Na- 
 tions series.] (Putnam, 1904) 
 The Mediaeval Stage. (Scottish Histori- 
 cal Review, vol. i, pp. 399-406. Glasgow, July, 
 1904) 
 
 The Charters of the Borough of Cam- 
 bridge [ed. F. W. Maitland and Mary Bate- 
 son.]. (Cambridge, 1901) 
 
 CHAMBERS, E. K. 
 
 The Mediaeval Stage. [2 vols.] (Oxford, 1903.) 
 [This is one of the most exhaustive treatments 
 of the subject published in English. List of 
 Authorities, vol. i, pp. xiii-xlii. Complete rec- 
 ords and lists in Appendices, vol. ii, pp. 229- 
 461] 
 
 COLLIER, JOHN PAYNE 
 
 History of English Dramatic Poetry to the 
 Time of Shakespeare. (London, 1831) 
 
 DAVIDSON, CHARLES 
 
 Studies in the English Mystery Plays. (Yale 
 University, 1892)
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 155 
 
 FLEAY, F. G. 
 
 A Chronicle History of the London Stage, 1559- 
 1642. (1890) 
 
 GAYLEY, CHARLES MILLS 
 
 The Star of Bethlehem : A Miracle Play of the 
 Nativity, reconstructed from the Towneley and 
 other old English Cycles (of the XIHth, XlVth, 
 and XVth Centuries), and Supplemented and 
 Adapted to Modern Conditions, as Composed 
 for Mr. Ben Greet, and Presented by his Com- 
 pany. (Fox, Duffield, 1904) [With an intro- 
 duction and wood-cuts; in the same form as 
 same publisher's modernized version of " Every- 
 man."] 
 
 Representative English Comedies. (Mac- 
 
 millan, 1903.) [Introductory Essay: An His- 
 torical View of the Beginnings of English 
 Comedy, pp. xiii-xcii.] 
 
 Plays of Our Forefathers : and some of 
 
 the traditions upon which they were founded. 
 (Duffield, 1907) [A more popular treatment 
 than that by Chambers ; excellent illustrations.] 
 
 The Earlier Miracle Plays in England. 
 
 [The International Quarterly, vol. x, Oct., 1904, 
 pp. 108-129] 
 
 The Later Miracle Plays of England. 
 
 [The International Quarterly, vol. xii, Oct., 
 1905, pp. 67-88] 
 
 GOEDEKE, KARL 
 
 Everyman, Homulus, und Hekastus. (Hanover, 
 1865.) [Containing text]
 
 156 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 GEOSS, CHAELES 
 
 The Gild Merchant. (Oxford, 1890) 
 
 HIBBEET, FEANCIS ALDAN 
 
 Influence and Development of English Gilds, as 
 Illustrated by the History of the Craft Gilds of 
 Shrewsbury. (Cambridge, Eng., 1891) 
 
 HONE, W. 
 
 Ancient Mysteries described, especially the Eng- 
 lish Miracle Plays founded on Apocryphal New 
 Testament Story. (London, 1823) 
 
 JUSSEEAND, J. J. 
 
 Le Theatre en Angleterre depuis la Conquete 
 jusqu'aux Predecesseurs Immediats de Shake- 
 speare. (Paris, 1881.) [See Chap, ii Les 
 Mysteres; Chap, iii Les Moralites] 
 
 A Note on Pageants and ' Scaffolds Hye.' 
 
 [xxiii In " An English Miscellany presented 
 to Dr. Furnivall." Oxford, 1901] 
 
 A Literary History of the English People. 
 
 [2 vols. issued; still in course of publication. 
 Vol. i, chap, vi, The Theatre: Origins Civil 
 Sources ; Religious Sources ; Literary and His- 
 torical value of Mysteries ; Decay of the 
 Mediaeval Stage.] (Putnam, 1895, 1896) See 
 also the same author's " English Wayfaring 
 life in the Middle Ages." 
 
 KLEIN, DAVID 
 
 A Contribution to a Bibliography of the Mediae- 
 val Drama. {Mod. Lang. Notes, xx, 1905, 
 Nov., pp. 202-205) 
 
 LANIEE, SIDNEY 
 
 Shakspere and His Forerunners: Studies in
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 157 
 
 Elizabethan Poetry and Its Development from 
 Early English. [2 vols.] (Doubleday, Page, 
 1902.) [Sumptuous in form and illustration] 
 
 MANLY, J. M. 
 
 Specimens of the Pre-Shaksperean Drama. 
 [With introduction, notes, and glossary.] 
 (3 vols, 1897) 
 
 MANTZIUS, KARL 
 
 A History of Theatrical Art in Ancient and 
 Modern Times. [Translated by Louise von 
 Cossel; vide Greek Theatre, Roman Theatre, 
 Ecclesiastical Plays, Secular Plays. A four vol- 
 ume work of value, with bibliographies.] (Lon- 
 don, 1903, 1904, 1905) 
 
 MATTHEWS, BRANDER 
 
 The Development of the Drama. (Scribner, 
 1903.) [The chapter on "The Mediaeval 
 Drama " appeared originally in Mod. PhiloL, 
 June, 1903.] 
 
 MEYER, DR. HEINRICH 
 
 The Infancy of the English Drama. (Hagen, 
 1873) 
 
 MOORE, E. HAMILTON 
 
 English Miracle Plays and Moralities. (Lon- 
 don, 1907) 
 
 MORLEY, HENRY 
 
 English Writers, [vols, ii, iii (Hilarius), iv.] 
 (London, 1899) 
 
 POLLARD, ALFRED W. 
 
 English Miracle Plays, Moralities, and Inter- 
 ludes [Introduction and Notes]. (Clarendon 
 Press, 1898)
 
 158 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 SELIGMAN, EDWIN R. A. 
 
 Mediaeval Guilds of England. (Am. Econ. 
 Assoc. Pub., 1887) 
 
 SHARP, THOMAS 
 
 Dissertation on the Pageants or Dramatic Mys- 
 teries Anciently Performed at Coventry. (Cov- 
 entry, 1825) 
 
 SCHELLING, FELIX E. 
 
 Elizabethan Drama. [2 vols.] (Houghton, 
 Mifflin, 1908) [Contains chapters on the Old 
 Sacred Drama, the Morality, and the Earlier 
 Secular Plays; also a concise bibliographical 
 chapter which may be used as a working basis] 
 
 The English Chronicle Play : A Study in 
 
 the Popular Historical Literature Environing 
 Shakespeare. (Macmillan, 1902) [This refer- 
 ence is given, since the Chronicle Play, as a 
 type, like the Morality as a type, brings the de- 
 velopment continuously from the Trope to the 
 Elizabethan drama.] 
 
 SMITH, G. GREGORY 
 
 The Transition Period. (Edinburgh, 1900) 
 [Chap, vii Dramatic Origins: The Drama in 
 France; Chap, viii The Drama in England 
 and in Scotland ; Chap, ix The Drama in Ger- 
 many.] 
 
 SMITH, TOULMIN 
 
 English Gilds : The Original Ordinances. (Lon- 
 don, 1870) [This is a collection of significant 
 documents.] 
 
 STODDARD, FRANCIS H.- 
 
 References for Students of Miracle Plays and
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 159 
 
 Mysteries. (University of California. Library 
 Bulletin. No. 8, 1887) 
 
 SYMONDS, JOHN ADDINGTON 
 
 Shakespere's Predecessors in the English 
 Drama. (London, 1884) 
 
 TEN BRINK, BERNHARD 
 
 Geschichte der Englischen Literatur. [vol. ii. ; 
 tr., William Clarke Robinson.] (N. Y., 1889) 
 
 TISDEL, FREDERICK MONROE 
 
 The Influence of Popular Customs on the Mys- 
 tery Plays. (Jour. Eng. and German Phttol., 
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 Comedy in the Mystery Plays of Eng- 
 land. [Harvard University Thesis, 1906] 
 
 WARD, A. W. 
 
 History of English Dramatic Literature to the 
 Death of Queen Anne. (London, 1899) 
 
 WRIGHT, THOMAS 
 
 Early Mysteries, and other Latin Poems of the 
 Twelfth and Thirteenth Centuries. (London, 
 1838) [With an Introduction.] 
 
 EDITIONS OF PLAYS. 
 
 ADAM. Palustre, L. Adam, Mystere du XII* Sie- 
 cle. (Paris, 1877) 
 
 CASTELL OF PERSEVERANCE. Pollard, A. W. Eng- 
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 CHESTER MYSTERIES. Wright, Thomas [ed.] 
 (Shakespeare Society. Issued in 1853 as vol. i. 
 of Supplement to Dodsley's Old Plays.)
 
 160 BIBLIOGRAPHY 
 
 COVENTRY CYCLE. Halliwell-Phillips, J. O. [ed.] 
 Ludus Coventrise. (Shakespeare Society, 1841) 
 EVERYMAN. Farmer, John S. Six Anonymous 
 Plays. First Series (c. 1510-1537) Everyman 
 [pp. 89-122, including woodcuts and notes]. 
 (London: Printed privately for subscribers by 
 the Early English Drama Society, 1905 ; also 
 reproduced separately in " The Museum Dra- 
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 Greg, W. W. (Reprint from ed. by John 
 Skot, preserved at Britwell Court.) 
 [Materialien zur kunde des alteren Eng- 
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 Hawkins, Thomas Origin of the Eng- 
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 Hazlitt's Dodsley. [vol. i] (London, 1874) 
 
 Logeman, H. Elckerlyc Everyman, de 
 
 Vraag naar de prioriteit opnieuw onder- 
 zocht. (Universite de Gand, Recueil de 
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 Museum Dramatists. (Published for 
 Early English Drama Society. Lon- 
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 Fifteenth Century Prose and Verse. 
 
 [An English Garner. Everyman, pp. 
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 Roersch, A. Elckerlijc Everyman 
 Homulus Hekastus. (Archiv. fur das 
 Studium der Neueren Sprachen und 
 Literaturen, cxiii, 1904, pp. 13-16)
 
 BIBLIOGRAPHY 161 
 
 Sidgwick, F. Reprint. (London, 1902) 
 HROTSVITHA, THEATRE DE 
 
 Religieuse Allemande du X* Siecle (en Francais) 
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 Munich. (Introduction et Notes.) Charles 
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 INTERLUDE OF YOUTH. Hazlitt's Dodsley. [vol. ii] 
 LUSTY JUVENTUS. Hazlett's Dodsley. [vol. ii] 
 MARY MAGDALENE. Dr. Furnivall's ed. Digby Mys- 
 teries. 
 
 Pollard, A. W. English Miracle Plays. 
 MIRACLES DE NOTRE-DAME. MS. 2 vols. Bibl. Nat. 
 
 819, 820. 
 
 PROPHETES DU CHRIST. Drama found in MS. Bibl. 
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 Coussemaker, A. Drames Liturgiques. [No. 
 
 2, p. 11] 
 
 Magnin. Journal des Savants. (Feb., 
 1846) 
 
 Du Meril. Origines Latines. [p. 179] 
 RESURRECTION, La. Monmerque et Michel. Thea- 
 tre Fran9ais au Moyen Age. [pp. 10-20] 
 
 (Paris, 1879) 
 ST. NICHOLAS. Monmerque et Michel. Theatre Fr. 
 
 au Moyen Age. [pp. 158-207] 
 THEOPHILE. Monmerque et Michel. Theatre Fr., 
 
 etc. [pp. 136-156] 
 TOWNELEY MYSTERIES. Pollard, A. W. [ed.] [Early 
 
 English Text Society.] (London, 1897) 
 YORK MYSTERIES. Smith, Lucy Toulmin. [ed.] 
 
 [Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1885]
 
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