i . death in the middle ages . . . 1 ii. dance of death .20 iii. … · 1 9 overlord of all duri ng...
TRANSCRIPT
T H E P E R S O N I F I C A T I O N OF DEATH IN
MIDDLE ENGLISH LITERATURE
APPROVED:
Major Professor
Minor Professor
/$. /yistLsi. C o n s u l t i n g Professor
? -s Chairman of the Department of English
Dearf of the Graduate School
THE PERSONIFICATION OF DEATH IN
MIDDLE ENGLISH LITERATURE
THESIS
Presented to the Graduate Council of the
North Texas State University in Partial
Fulfillment of the Requirements
For the Deqree of
MASTER OF ARTS
By
Judith G. Humphries, B. A.
Denton , Texas
May, 1970
TABLE OF CONTENTS
C h a p t e r . Page
I . DEATH IN THE MIDDLE AGES . . . 1
I I . DANCE OF DEATH . 2 0
I I I . MORAL PLAYS 41
I V . THE PARDONER'S TALE . 59
V. CONCLUSION ' 78
BIBLIOGRAPHY . 8 1
i i i
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Figure . , Page
1 . Dancing Death v
IV
If / N\i#
>
W Ml kl:'% I p V / / . ,) h -A •f \7A
1/
-C^v,
F i g . 1 - - D a n e i rig Death
CHAPTER I
DEATH IN THE MIDDLE AGES
Middle English literature is no exception to the rule
that a study of any literature depends a great deal on the
historical backgrounds of its period. This study, which
concentrates specifically on the personi fi cati on of death
in Mi ddle English literature, requi res a knowledge of the
extent to which the people in all of Western Europe were
concerned with death during every day > every moment, of
their lives.
For thi s study, the commonly accepted dates for the
later Middle Ages will be used, 1150 to 1500. These are
the dates of a peri od in whi ch reli gi on was the most notable
feature. In all the Christian world of the Middle Ages, the
church held unchallenged dominion over all aspects of life, 1
and the powers of the next world were held supreme over the
real world. More certai n than anything in the visible world
were the conflicts between God and the Devil, angels and demons,
and between the saved and the damned.^ The church kept constantly
before every man, woman, and child the idea that the world-to-
come was of chief importance, that the world in which they lived
was useless and barren and only a means to achieve a better
1F. J. C. Hearnshaw, ed i tor. Medieval Contributions to Modern Civilization (New York, 19497s P• 28.
^Ibid. , p. 39. ^Ihi d.
1
w o r l d a f t e r d e a t h . T h e y w e r e not a l l o w e d for o n e m o m e n t to
f o r g e t the j o y s of H e a v e n or the t o r t u r e s of Hell , the o n l y
a l t e r n a t i v e s . T h e y w e r e t a u g h t that t h e i r e a r t h l y e x i s t e n c e
w a s m e r e "trial and p r e p a r a t i o n f o r the f u t u r e , w h i c h m i g h t
d e s c e n d u p o n m a n k i n d at any m o m e n t in the f u r y of the J u d g m e n t
D a y . " A g l a n c e at a l m o s t any m e d i e v a l s c u l p t u r e or m u r a l will
r e v e a l the a t t i t u d e of the a g e , a p e r i o d w h e n art s e r v e d as a
r e m i n d e r of m a n ' s v u l n e r a b i l i t y . All s e r m o n s w e r e d e s i g n e d for
one p u r p o s e : to r e m i n d m a n k i n d of his i n e v i t a b l e e n d . As a
r e s u l t of t h i s c o n s t a n t t e a c h i n g , a m a n ' s c h i e f t a s k in l i f e
b e c a m e the p r e p a r a t i o n for e t e r n i t y .
Th e c h a r a c t e r i s t i c lack of s c i e n t i f i c e x p e r i m e n t and
e x p l o r a t i o n in m e d i e v a l E n g l a n d can be t r a c e d to t h i s p r e o c -
c u p a t i o n w i t h the o t h e r - w o r l d l y . ^ S c i e n t i f i c t h e o r y , b a s e d on
t r a d i t i o n , d e p e n d e d upon' the c l a s s i c a l a u t h o r s , e s p e c i a l l y
A r i s t o t l e , for m o s t of its s o u r c e m a t e r i a l . T h e c h u r c h was
o f t e n the e n e m y of o r i g i n a l i t y in r e s e a r c h and l e a r n i n g , p e r s e -
c u t i n g t h o s e w h o d a r e d to e x p e r i m e n t . One e x a m p l e of t h i s is
R o g e r B a c o n of O x f o r d , w h o is c o n s i d e r e d to h a v e b e e n the one
o r i g i n a l s t u d e n t of s c i e n c e d u r i n g the M i d d l e A g e s . He l i v e d
d u r i n g the r e i g n of H e n r y I I I , and s p e n t the last p a r t of
^ G e o r g e B. W o o d s and o t h e r s , e d i t o r s , T h e L i t e r a t u r e of E n g l a n d : An A n t h o l o g y and H i s t o r y , I ( C h i c a g o / 19^"8T7~2 Vol's. , 75
^ I b i d.
^ G . G. C o u l t o n , T h e Medi eval S c e n e : An I n f o r m a l I_n t ro --d u c t i o n to the M i d d l e A g e s ( C a m b r i d g e , 1 9 3 0 7 , P. 16.
^ I b i d. , p. 15.
his life in prison for his experiments, which had offended
the church.^
These general tendencies of society to concentrate on
death and minimize the importance of living can be seen in
the development of medieval English society. Anglo-Saxon
civilization before the Norman Conquest had been that of
warrior and priest. After the Normans conquered England,
this society was replaced by the feudal system, a system
under which every acre of land and every person in the king™ Q
dom belonged to the king. Under the Normans the Anglo-
Saxon "earl" became the knightly "baron," and a "churl" became
a "serf," or "villein," both subordinate to the king. This
system made the king the owner and ruler of all E n g l a n d . ^
He distributed his kingdom among his most deserving nobles
and expected them to repay his favor in the forms of money
and other tangible recompense, such as military service,
whether for defense or aggression.^ Those nobles thus
honored, in turn sub-distributed their assigned lands among
lesser noblemen, requiring of these the same services for
which they were obligated to the king. In a feudal society,
then, everyone except the king owed tangible recompense as
well as obedience to an earthly overlord. The king himself
. F. Salzman, Enqlish Life in the Middle Ages (London, 1950) , p. 182. - -
^Woods, p. 74. 1Qlbid.
1 1 1 b i d . , p. 75.
4
was obligated for spiritual homage to the worldly sovereign
of Chri stendom, the Pope, In effect, then, the Pope was the 1 9
overlord of all duri ng the Middle Ages.
In medieval England the class structure was simple
enough, nobleman and serf. However, one further distinction
was made between clergy and laity, though the dividing lines
were not always clearly drawn. In these two divisions there
were corresponding levels: the Pope and king were in similar
positions; the prelates, that is bi shops, abbots, and priors,
had corresponding rank with the noblemen; the regular clergy,
that is monks and friars, were in similar pos i ti ons with the
very small, but emerging, class of traders; and the parish
priests and chaplains were similar in posi ti on to the
laboring serfs.^ 3 So, when one speaks of a simple class structure
of noblemen and serfs, he is including the clergy in their
various clas s i fi cati ons. Thi s structure was existent for a
long time after the Norman Conquest. Then, about the middle
of the thirteenth century, as industry and commerce gradually
became more important, changing the prevailing agricultural
scheme, commoners, or serfs, occasionally were able to rise
above the masses, either by accumulation of wealth or by
becoming freemen as recompense for some special service to a
feudal l o r d . ^ This slow process gradually began to change
English society.
^ Ib i d. 1 Sal zman , p . 33 .
1^Woods, p. 76.
As England became more industrial, the importance of
cities grew, and tradesmen became more powerful and more
numerous. An increase in industry and commerce created a
middle class, which before the end of the thirteenth
century had not existed. The gradual development of the
middle class culminated in its being represented in the
Great Council of Parliament of 1295, in a separate house
1 5
from the House of Lords, the House of Commons.
As the class of tradesmen developed, so did their
organi zati on. They learned that they were more effective
socially and in their trades if they were banded together
according to trade; thus were formed guilds, organizations
which, as we shall see later, came to play a significant
role in the development of medieval drama.1 6
The feudal system was based on the issuance of land in
exchange for pledges of military and monetary returns, a
necessity for one major reason, to protect the king and
his noblemen in time of war. Fighting was the profession
of the upper classes, so there was always a war. It was
part of the normal condition of life in the Middle Ages, not
unusual or alarmi ng, though always brutal and costly in terms
of human life. Medieval warfare, with its seemingly romantic
array of swords, shields, and arrows, was devastating to that
majority of soldiers who could not afford heavy armour. 1 5 I b i d . 1 6Ibi d.
^ S a l z m a n , p. 86
Even for the wealthier soldiers who had armour, war was
incredibly cruel because weapons more often maimed and crippled
rather than k i l l e d . ^ Often, when more soldiers were needed
than the nobles could accumulate from their lands, the prisons
were emptied of the healthier, sturdier inmates. It is recorded
that in a single year Edward I pardoned 450 murderers for
mi 1i tary servi ce , along with countless lesser offenders.^
Then, as well as now, organized arid casual forms of cruelty
were very much a part of war, and war was very much a part of
life. The nearness of war with its death tolls and cruelties
is one factor contributing to the preoccupation of the people
of the Middle Ages with death and the afterlife.
Another factor contributing to this preoccupation was
the religious teaching of the time. People of the Middle
Ages relied, for social -stability, on the authority of the
church as the basis for all thoughts and a c t i o n . ^ 0 The
medieval church constantly impressed upon Christians the
belief that the only reason for living was that it offered
time to search for salvation and to prepare for death, which,
if one were saved, would transfer him to a better world. The
fact that a man might at any moment be smi tten with unbearable ? 1
pain or even snatched from life could not be ignored. This
was perhaps one of the reasons for such a strong belief in the
^ J o a n Evans, editor, The F1oweri ng of the Middle Ages (New Y o r k , 1 9 6 6 ) , p . 2 0 8 .
1 9Salzman , p. 198. 2 0 W o o d s , p. 75.
^ E v a n s , p. 208.
physical reality of a Hell-fire which the lurid eschatology
of the medieval church proclaimed. So far as Heaven and Hell
were concerned, the Bible was accepted in its strictest
literal sense. 2 2 The medieval Christian believed that hi s
des ti ny for all etern i ty was determined by his spiritual ?'3
state at the moment of death. He might either be marked
for an eternity of unspeakable bliss or of torment beyond mortal
conception, depending on his religious or theological belief
at his last moment. Consequently, every person hoped that
when he died it would be with Christ's name on his lips. To.
the medieval Christian, then, the whole earth was Death's
ki ngdom " . . . and human life, with its ambi ti ons and struggles
was only a macabre dance that led to the grave." 2^
Part of the reason for the belief in the imminent
approach of death can be found in the conditions of society.
As a result of their worldly ways, people of the Middle Ages
seemed always tormented by God with one punishment or another.
Epidemic sickness was well known in England in the Middle Ages.
The great famine of 1315 and 1316 was followed by one pestilence
after another, so that the Black Death of 1348 and 1349, in
which two-fifths of the population are said to have perished, 2^
seemed just another, if more deadly plague, in a long chain of
epi demi cs.26 2 2Coulton , p. 18. 2 31bi d. , p. 20. 2^Evans, p. 206. 2^Vioods, p. 76.
2^Kenneth H. Vickers, Engl and i n the Later Mi ddl e Ages (London, 1921), p. 183.
8
Cities and towns had no systems of sanitation; consequently
when an isolated case of a contagious disease occurred, it
quickly spread to all parts of the town. When the plague was
brought to England in 1348, the dead were at first buried as
usual, but as the number of deaths increased so rapidly, the
bodies were carried in carts and buried in mass graves or
9 7
merely abandoned by those fearing contamination. Mortality
was highest among the poor and among the clergy, who were
probably infected while tending the dying or d e a d . T h e old
and infirm were seemingly immune, while the young and strong. 29
were among the hardest hit. During the plague years, when
death was so constant and real, fantasies concerning death
multiplied, the products of strained imaginations.^® These
fantasies showed up most in the art works in which individuals
were depicted in various stages of decomposition, a reminder
of what death held in store for all. Perhaps visual represent-
ation made the dreadful nightmare easier to face.
There were other cruelties besides disease. Children
often died very young as a result of exposure or under-
nourishment. Many who survived childhood were deformed
because of the poor conditions they had endured. Another
threat to life was the medical practice of the time. If one
were fortunate enough to be wealthy, but unfortunate enough
to contact some disease, his chance for survival was slim 2 7 Evans , p. 209. ^ V i c k e r s , p. 183
2 9 1 b i d . 3 ° E v a n s , p t 2 3 0 .
if doctors were called in and paid to cure him. A poor man
with a mild disease who could not afford professional medical
treatment was probably more likely to recover. In addition to
1 ess harmful preliminary remedies, doctors frequently performed
surgery, which was certain to involve intolerable pain and was
31 unlikely to be successful. During these times pain, peril,
and death were ever-present compani ons of all levels of society 32
life was hard and short.
The Black Death of 1348 and 1349 had two opposite effects
on the minds of m e n : in hopeless abandon, some turned to
worldly wickedness; others turned in desperation and fear to
a more serious concern with religion. 3 , 3 After the universal
terror of the plague, one of many religious movements began in
Flanders, and later was brought to England. This was the
movement of the Flagellants, who believed that God had sent
his judgment and punishment upon man in the form of the
plague and that only desperate measures, in this case self-O A
torture, could save men from the ravages of the judgment.
The constant presence and threat of death caused a
turning to the church for explanation and rationalization.
Clergymen met this challenge with vivid biblical descriptions
Ibid. , p. 209. ' ^ H e a r n s h a w , p. 39.
3 3 S a 1zm a n , p. 110. a Sidney Painter, A History of the Middle Ages: 284-
T500 (New York, 1953), p." 419. (Sin'ce "m 0sif EngTishmen considered them religious madmen, the Flagellants' numbers never grew very large in England, according to Vickers, p. 186.)
10
of the next w o r l d , both P a r a d i s e and Hell. From Dan M i c h e l ' s
A-^enbite of I n w y t , a h o m i l y of about 1 340 , we read this
d e s c r i p t i o n of P a r a d i s e :
Todel -pine gost urain -pine bo dye / be f o-jte / and be w y l n i n g e . guo out of ^ i s e w o r d l e s t e r u i n d e . guo i n-to ye 1 onde of fe 1 i b b y n d e / iper non ne s terf [fj / ne yeal dep. fet is ine p a r a d y s . f e r me lyerne?wel to 1i bbe / and wyt / an c o r t e y s y e . nor f e r ne may guo in: no u y l e y n y e . -per is b l i s f o l l e u e l a ^ r e d e of god. and of a n g l e s , and of hal-^en. f e r o p w e x e p alle g u o d e s . u a y r h e d e . r i c h e s s e . w o r p s s i p e . bliisse. u i r t u e . lone, w y t . ioye w y f o u t e ende. -per ne is non y p o c r i s e . ne b a r a t . ne b l o n d i n g e . ne d i s c o r d , ne e n u y e . ne honger. ne -porst. ne hete. ne chele. ne kuead. ne zor-je. ne drede of v y e n d e s . ac al rieway festes and kinges bredal es. z o n g e s . and b l i s s e w y p o u t e ende. [ S e p a r a t e thy soul from thy body by t h o u g h t and by d e s i r e . Go out of this' w o r l d d y i n g ; go into the land of the living w h e r e none die or grow old. That is in p a r a d i s e ; w h e r e one learns to live well in w i s d o m and c o u r t e s y . For there no v i l l a i n y m a y e n t e r ; there is blissful f e l l o w s h i p of God and angels and s a i n t s . There springs up all g o o d n e s s , b e a u t y , r i c h e s , worshi p , b l i s s , v i r t u e , 1ove , w i s d o m , and joy w i t h o u t end. There is n e i t h e r h y p o c r i s y , f r a u d , f 1 a t t e r y , di scord , erivy, h u n g e r , t h i r s t , h e a t , c h i l l , e v i l , s o r r o w , or dread of e n e m i e s ; but always feasts ^5 and the b r i d a l s of k i n g s , songs and bliss w i t h o u t e n d . ]
The i n d u c e m e n t s used w e r e not always of such a p o s i t i v e
n a t u r e as t h i s , h o w e v e r . Men were also w a r n e d a g a i n s t w h a t
they w o u l d find if their lives had not been good e n o u g h to
m e r i t an e t e r n i t y of p a r a d i s e . In an early h o m i l y e n t i t l e d
S a w l e s W a r d e , the f o l l o w i n g d e s c r i p t i o n of Hell a p p e a r s . The
s p e a k e r is F e a r , the R e m i n d e r of D e a t h :
3 5 Dan M i c h e l , A.jenbi te of In w y t , or R e m o r s e of Consci ence ( L o n d o n , 1 8 9 5 ) , pp. 7T~-T5.~ This "and f ol 1 owing t r a n s l a t i o n s into m o d e r n E n g l i s h are my own.
n
Helle is wyd / wy-p-oute metirige. dyep / wyf-oute botino. Vol of brene on-"j?olynde. Vol of stenche / wy-oute comparisoun. -per is zor-^e. ^?er is ^yesternesse. -per ne is non ordre. -per is groniynge wyf-oute ende. -per ne is non hope of guode. non v/antrokiynge of kueade. Ech -pet e r i nne is: hatef him zelue: arid all e 0"pren. •per i ch yze*, alle many ere tormens. -pe Teste of a 11 e / is more ^anne alle -pe pynen yet moje by y-do i ne yise word! e. -per is wop. and grindinge of t e f . -per me ge-p uram chele in to greate hete of uere. and buofe onpolyi nde. -pere alle be uere / ssolle by uorbernd. [Hell is wide without measure, deep without bottom, full of intolerable fire, full of stench without comparison. There is no order s and there is groaning without end. There is no hope of good and no lack of evil. Each one therein hates himself and al1 others. I saw all manner of torments. The least of them all is more than all the torments that may be done in this world. There is weeping and gnashing of teeth. There I went from chill into great heat of fire and both intolerable. There all shall be consumed by fi re.
Belief in a phys i cal paradi se in the next world or in
the physical tortures of Hell-fire provided the subject for a
yast number of literary works. This was not the only theme,
however; the 1i terature of the later Middle Ages was varied
in nature, with various subjects and forms belonging exclu-
sively to particular levels of society.
The knights and their ladies had their forms of litera-
ture, the courtly lyric and the metri cal romance, such as
the Arthurian legends. The clergy used exempla or stories
to enliven almost al1 of their sermons, and they eventually
developed a kind of moral romance or anti-romance, such as
tales of the quest for the Holy Grail from whi ch the saintly
Sir Galahad emerged as the personification of a spiritual
idea. They also had drama, saints' lives, hymns, and debates,
36 l b i d . , pp. 264-265
12
as well as prose homilies. The common folk had their popular
ballads and 1ai s, their narrative folk songs, and the f a b l i a u . ^
Another important part of the literature of the common people
was medieval drama, which had emerged from its beginnings in
the church.
At its beginning, English medieval drama was entirely
sacred and didactic. There was no dramatic structure or
plot, only the enactment of some familiar episodes of
biblical lore. These brief enactments were used as a part
of the sermon on certain special occasions, such as Corpus
Christi Day, Christmas, and E a s t e r . ^ These first dramas
were enacted by priests who chanted in Latin at the base of
the chancel in the church. The audience consisted mainly of
commoners who did not understand Latin, but who were to
receive some spiritual up-lifting as a result of the dramatic
action which accompanied the Latin chants. 3 9
Medieval drama evolved slowly into what have been later
called miracle and mystery plays. Miracle plays, dealing
with the lives of saints, naturally retained their religious
n a t u r e ; ^ however, the mystery plays underwent great changes.
As the enactments by the priests of the mystery plays
changed from a dignified and sacred mood to one of more
3?Woods, pp. 89 and 94.
3^Ibid . t p. 89. 3 9 1 b i d . , p. 90.
4°Hardi n Crai g , English Religious Drama of the Mi ddle Ages (Oxford, 1955), p. 346."
13
c o n t e m p o r a r y s p i r i t , the l a i t y s l o w l y b e g a n to t a k e the p l a c e
of the c l e r g y m e n , and the L a t i n c h a n t s w e r e c h a n g e d to the
v e r n a c u l a r . ^ G r a d u a l l y the p l a y s b e c a m e m o r e c o m i c and
s a t i r i c a l . T h e s t a g e w a s m o v e d f r o m i n s i d e the c h u r c h
to the m a r k e t p l a c e or a p u b l i c s q u a r e . T h e t r a d e s g u i l d s ,
w h i c h h a v e a l r e a d y b e e n m e n t i o n e d , g r a d u a l l y b e g a n to t a k e o v e r
e n a c t m e n t of the m y s t e r y p l a y s . In f a c t , the two m a i n f a c t o r s
c o n t r i b u t i n g to the d e v e l o p m e n t of E n g l i s h d r a m a d u r i n g the
thri t e e n t h , f o u r t e e n t h , and fi f t e e n t h c e n t u r i es w e r e the
i n c r e a s i n g i m p o r t a n c e of g u i l d s as the t o w n s g r e w l a r g e r and
the e s t a b l i s h m e n t by the C h u r c h of c e r t a i n f e s t i v a l d a y s such
A 9
as t h a t of C o r p u s C h r i s t i , w h i c h w a s e s t a b l i s h e d in 1 2 6 4 .
S i n c e C o r p u s C h r i s t i d a y fell in l a t e s p r i n g w h e n o u t d o o r
c e l e b r a t i o n s w e r e m o s t s u i t a b l e , d r a m a soon b e c a m e a p a r t of
t h e f e s t i v a l .
By the f o u r t e e n t h and f i f t e e n t h c e n t u r i e s the m y s t e r y
p l a y s had d e v e l o p e d i n t o s e r i e s , or c y c l e s , p e r f o r m e d by the
g u i l d s of a g i v e n t o w n . At this t i m e in E n g l a n d t h e r e w e r e
at l e a s t t h r e e m a j o r c y c l e s : the Y o r k , w i t h f o r t y - e i g h t p l a y s ;
the W a k e f i e l d , or T o w n e l e y , w i t h t h i r t y - t w o p l a y s ; and the
C h e s t e r , w i t h t w e n t y - f i v e p l a y s . ^ T h e p l a y s w e r e b a s e d on
b i b l i c a l s t o r i e s f r o m the Old and New T e s t a m e n t s . T h e y
w e r e e n a c t e d on f l a t w a g o n s c a l l e d p a g e a n t s , f r o m w h i c h is
4 1 W o o d s , p. 9 0 . 4 2Ibi_d. , p. 91.
4 3 1 b i d.
14
taken the m o d e r n name for the e n a c t m e n t of c e r t a i n biblical
44
s c e n e s .
M y s t e r y plays from Difcle s t o r i e s and m i r a c l e plays from
s a i n t s ' legends b e c a m e the two most w i d e s p r e a d and popular
forms of m e d i e v a l e n t e r t a i n m e n t , 4 ^ but there was another
kind of medi eval d r a m a w h i c h was a l l e g o r i c a l in n a t u r e and
was based on the t e a c h i n g s of the c l e r g y , p o s s i b l y g r o w i n g Afi
out of the h o m i l i e s . This was the morali ty pi ay, w h i c h
has been defined as ". . . the d r a m a t i c phase of m e d i e v a l
p r e a c h i n g and t e a c h i n g , for it p r e s e n t s the s t r u g g l e between
the f o r c e s of good and evil for the p r e c i o u s guerdon of man's
i m m o r t a l soul , and it is designed to assist the w a v e r i n g to
keep t h e i r feet in the s t r a i g h t and narrow way. . . ." 4
M o r a l i t y plays date only from the last of the f o u r t e e n t h
c e n t u r y and did not t h r i v e long beyond the f i f t e e n t h c e n t u r y .
The f o r m u l a for these a l l e g o r i e s was f a i r l y c o n s t a n t , with
only a few v a r i a t i o n s in their later y e a r s . T h e y d r a m a t i z e d
m a n ' s p r o g r e s s from the cradle to the grave and b e y o n d . The
basic f o r m u l a shows how man is born g r a c e l e s s and in sin; how
his mortal c a r e e r is a c o n s t a n t struggle a g a i n s t his human
f a i l i n g s . The c h a r a c t e r s are p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n s of such a b s t r a c t
q u a l i t i e s as v i r t u e s and v i c e s , and the hero always p r o g r e s s e s
t h r o u g h a s u c c e s s i o n of a d v a n c e s and r e p u l s e s . Death always 4/1 lb id. , p. 92.
4 ^ E . K. Chambers» The Medi eval Stage (Oxford, 1 903), p. 157
46Cra"i g , p. 345. 4 A i o o d s , p. S3 .
15
overtakes him, but in the end his soul is judged and saved
from eternal H e l l - f i r e . ^
Unlike the miracle plays, the morality plays have a
strong dramatic conflict, the struggle between good and evil
for the possession of man's soul. A direct relationship can
be seen between the morality plays and the drama of Sophocles
or later English drama of the Elizabethan s t a g e . ^ They all
deal with the same universal moral conf1i cts.
One of the most constant themes running through the
literature of the later Middle Ages is that of death. It can
be found in didactic tales written by the clergy, in Chaucer's
work, in medieval drama, and even in the lyrics. Perhaps the
knowledge of the nearness of death to the lives of medieval
people can help to explain the death theme in their literature.
Harder to explain is a recurrence of the more specific personi-
fication of death which appears in all forms of medieval
literature. One might expect to find death personified in
the moral plays, which are allegorical by nature and by defini
tion, but its appearance in poetry needs further examination.
There was perhaps a tendency during the Middle Ages for
men to think in allegorical terms in all aspects of life.
There are, in fact, some who would say that medieval poetry
is by nature allegorical because of this t e n d e n c y . ^ This is
48ibid.
^ F . 0. Snell, The Age of Chaucer, 1 346-1400 (London, 1926) , p. 96.
5°D..W. Robertson , A Preface to Chaucer: Studies i n Medi eval Perspectives (New Jersey, 1 962), p. 206.
16
indeed evident in most medieval poetry, from the earliest
lyrics to Chaucer's work. The most widely used form of death's
personification in medieval literature and the fine arts is
the Summons of Death theme, a motif based on the older French
and German versi ons of the Dance of Death, whi ch was itself
originally in Latin. The popular portrayal of the Dance of
Death was that of a skeleton, representing Death, playing a
fiddle, as emperor and commoner alike move uncontrollably to
his tune. This Dance of Death was to remi nd all that there
was no other tune to which one could ultimately dance; Death
had the only melody. This idea that Death mingles with all
sorts, from pope to commoner, had an irony about it which
appealed to fifteenth-centu.ry a r t i s t s . ^
Two of the medieval English lyrics in whi ch the Dance
of Death theme is developed are "Death's Wi ther-CI inch" and
"The Ten Stages of Man's Life." These two early poems are
good illustrations of this motif and have, in addition, some
other characteristic medieval themes.
I n "Death's Wi ther-Cl i rich ," the Dance of Death motif
is used to i11 us trate that Death summons everyone, of all classes
This can be seen in the first two stanzas of the poem:
51 Chambers, p. 153
17
M a n m e i l o n g e h i m l i v e s w a n e * ac o f t e h i m l i y e t f>e w r e i n c h ; f a i r w e d e r o f t e h i m w e n t to r e n e , an f e r l i c h e m a k e t is b l e n c h . • p a r - y o r e , n a n -pu t e b i ^ e n c h , - -al sel va 1 ui -pe g r e n e . w e l a - w e y ! n i s K i n g ne Q u e n e f a t ne sel d r i n k e of d e t h - i s d r e n c h . M a n , e r -pu f all e o f fi b e n c h , •pu s i n n e a q u e n c h .
Ne m a i s t r o n g ne s t a r c h ne k e n e a - ^ l y e d e t h - i s w i f e r - c l e n c h ; -»,ung and o l d and b r i t h a n - s i e n e , al he r i u e t h an hi s s t r e n g . v o x a n d f e r l i c h is f e w r e i n c h , ne m a i no m a n f a r t o - ^ e n e s , w e i - l a - w e i ! ne iwepirig ne b e n e , m e d e , l i s t e , ne l e c h e s d r e i n c h . m a n , let s i n n e and l u s t e s s t e n c h , w e l d o , w e l -pencil!
[ M a n m a y e x p e c t a l o n g l i f e , B u t o f t e n in it t h e r e l i e s a t r i c k ; F a i r w e a t h e r o f t e n c h a n g e s to r a i n , O r s u d d e n l y m a k e s it s u n s h i n e . T h e r e f o r e , m a n , t h i n k on y o u r s e l f , E v e r y t h i n g s h a l l f a d e y o u r y o u t h . W e l 1 a w a y ! T h e r e is no K i n g n o r Q u e e n T h a t s h a l l n o t d r i n k of d e a t h ' s d r a u g h t M a n , b e f o r e y o u fall f r o m y o u r b e n c h Q u e n c h y o u r s i n .
N e i t h e r p o w e r f u l n o r s t r o n g n o r k e e n E s c a p e s d e a t h ' s h o s t i l e g r a s p ; Y o u n g a n d o l d and b r i g h t t o g e t h e r , He b r e a k s e v e r y o n e and h i s s t r e n g t h . R e a d y and s u d d e n is t h e t r i c k , No, m a n m a y go a g a i n s t i t , W e l l away! No w e e p i n g , n o r p r a y e r , R e w a r d , s k i l l , or d o c t o r ' s p o t i o n . M a n , l e a v e t h e s t e n c h of l u s t and s i n , Do w e l l , t h i n k w e l l . ] 5 2
^ C a r l e t o n B r o w n , e d i t o r , E n g l i s h Lyri cs o f t h e Th i r t e e n t h C e n t u r y ( O x f o r d , 1 9 3 2 ) , p p . 1 5 - 1 6 . F u r t h e r r e f e r e n c e to t h i s p o e m w i l l be f r o m t h i s v o l u m e . T h e l i n e n u m b e r s w i l l a p p e a r in p a r e n t h e s e s at t h e e n d of the q u o t a t i o n .
18
The idea of Death's imminence is seen in the thi rd stanza, as
it says: "-par deth 1 uteth in hi s swo / to him for-do" (1 i nes
28 and 29). The third characteristic medieval theme which
appears in this poem is the fascination with the putrefaction
of the body after death: "of fel the -pu ert isowe, / weirmes
m e t e -pu selt ben" (lines 33 and 34].
The second poem, "The Ten stages of Man's Life," contains
the Dance of Death theme and two other characteristic motifs.
The Dance of Death is seen in stanzas six through nine.
As in the other poem, the central idea is that Death takes
e-yeryone, whatever hfs worldly goods or degree may be:
A1 mi 1if ic sorwe & care, for det comit sone , -j?at noman wil spare.
Lore fou hast, bope tonge & minde: as tou hast 1 i u i d , pou ssalt sone finde.
A1 f i s wo[r]l d -pou ssal forsake, for det is comun, -p at wil -pe take.
IA11 my life I grieve and care. For death comes soon, that no man will spare.
Counsel you have, both of tongue and mind: As you have lived, you shall soon find.
All t h i s world shall forsake you,
For death is coming that will take y o u . ] 5 ^
In speaking of the temporary comfort afforded by riches, this
poem says in stanza four, "Nou hastou fondin -pat tou hast
sout: / be wel war; it 1astit nout" (1ines 7 and 8).
Frederick Furnival , editor, Political , Rel i gi ous , an d Loye Poems (London, 1903), p. 267. further reference "to this poem will be from this -volume. The line numbers will appear In parentheses at the end of the quotation.
19
F i n a l l y , t h i s poem a l s o uses t h e i d e a of t h e d e c a y i n g
b o d y ' s wormy f a t e . In s t a n z a t e n t h i s i s seen : "Of -j?i 1 i f
nou 1 i t e l l e t e , / f o r - p o u a r t t o r n i d t o worrni s m e t e " ( l i n e s
19 and 2 0 ) . These poems a r e examples of t h e c h a r a c t e r i s t i c
med ieva l p r e o c c u p a t i o n w i t h d e a t h . In each one Death i s
c o n s i d e r e d , in p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n , as a f o r c e in i t s e l f , r a t h e r
t h a n an a b s t r a c t i o n .
The Dance of Death moti f i11 u s t r a t e s t h e p e r s o n i f i c a t i on
of Death d u r i n g a t ime iri England when d e a t h was e v e r y w h e r e .
The f r e q u e n c y of t h e d e a t h moti f has been no ted in t h e f i n e .
a r t s and in p o e t r y . The p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n of d e a t h in o t h e r
m e d i e v a l l i t e r a r y works w i l l be s t u d i e d in l a t e r c h a p t e r s .
CHAPTER II
DANCE OF DEATH
Death has always been a prominent theme in literature,
and the reason is obvious: it is the one thing which happens
to all men. Because of the universality of dying, there
developed during the Middle Ages a literary and artistic
motif based on the idea that death respects no man. This
motif is the Dance of Death, or danse macabre. The expression
is the same as the French Danse des Morts and the German
Totentanz.1 The same term, Dance of Death, is used to describe
certain mural paintings, moral verses of the same theme, and
later, series of woodcuts and engravings depicting the theme.
This chapter will study the personi fi cati on of Death in
the El 1esmere manuscri pt of the Middle Engli sh poem bearing
the title, "The Dance of Death," written about 1430. To
understand fully the poetic development of the motif, which
was apparently the last stage of the evolutionary process
of the Dance of Death, one must first bri efly study the first
stages. Duri ng the Middle Ages , especially after the Black
Death of the fourteenth century, there was a craze for
dancing, much greater than in former times.^ The dances,
of various lewd natures, were practiced in the streets and in
"'Florence Warren, editor, The Dance erf Death (London 1931), p. ix.
21bi d . , p. xv.
20
21
t h e c h u r c h y a r d s . The o r i g i n of t h e Dance of Death m o t i f i s
a m a t t e r of s p e c u l a t i o n * bu t one t h e o r y i s t h a t i t grew out
of d i r e c t i o n s by t h e c l e r g y t o t he p e o p l e t o r e p l a c e t h e i r
obscene d a n c i n g wi th more d e c o r o u s f o r m s , of a more moral
n a t u r e . ^
The Dance of Death was somet imes p e r f o r m e d as a masque ,
w i t h wen d r e s s e d as s k e l e t o n s d a n c i n g w i t h f i g u r e s , bo th
men and womens who r e p r e s e n t e d v a r i o u s l e v e l s of s o c i e t y . ^
Eyeri b e f o r e t h e s e masques became p o p u l a r , t h e r e i s e v i d e n c e
t h a t a Dance of Death was p e r f o r m e d i n which on ly men a p p e a r e d .
In t h i s e a r l y form t h e g r o t e s q u e f i g u r e r e p r e s e n t i n g Death
was i n t e n d e d no t as a r e p r e s e n t a t i o n of Death in t h e a b s t r a c t ,
b u t of t he dying man h i m s e l f in a f u t u r e s t a t e , u s u a l l y t h a t
of a decomposing c o r p s e r a t h e r than a s k e l e t o n . 5 The use of
t h e s k e l e t o n was p r o b a b l y d e r i v e d f rom the w i d e s p r e a d use of
s a n c t i f i e d human r e l i c s by t h e e a r l y C h r i s t i a n s in t h e i r r
r e l i g i o u s r i t e s . When t h e s k e l e t o n r e p l a c e d t h e decay i ng
c o r p s e , t h e c o n c e p t changed from the i n d i v i d u a l man t o Death
p e r s o n i f i e d .
During t h e p l a g u e y e a r s on t h e C o n t i n e n t , i t i s known
t h a t s o c i a l forms of d a n c i n g were e n c o u r a g e d t o d i s p e l p e r v a d i n g
^ I b i d . , p . x i i i .
^Joan Evans , e d i t o r , The F lower ing o_f t h e M 1_dd1 e Ages (New York , 1 9 6 6 ) , p. 241. " ~ "* " ~
^Warren , p . x .
^Dance of Death (London, 1 8 3 3 ) , p. 5.
22
•gloom. There is specific evidence of this in Flanders, Germany,
Hungary, and the Slavic countries. 7 In Germany, out of this
developed a sect who wandered about dancing half nude in groups
of three, falling down at the end of the dance to be trampled
by the others. Their belief was that by this means they
would be cleansed of disease. In Hungary there existed a
dance wherein a man pretended to be dead while others danced
around him mourning in a jesting way, picking him up and
dancing him about. The fellow playing dead remained rigid
in whatever position the dancers arranged him. A greatly
similar dance is known to have existed in the Slavic countries. 8
From these actual dances evolved the art works depicting
them and the poetry describing or dramatizing them. It is
difficult to know which came first, the art works or the
poetry. Perhaps the first manuscript was i1lustrated with
drawings, making their origin coincidental. Perhaps the
poetry was i nspi red by a mural depicting the dance. One
cannot know for certain. The word macabre itself gives some
clues as to the date of origin and perhaps the order of
development as well. It first, appeared with its present
connotation in France about 1376,® in connection with a
mural at the cloisters of the Holy Innocents at Paris."'®
The most widely accepted theory of the origin of the word
7Warren , p. x, 8Ibid. , p. xiy.
9Evans , p. 241. "^Warren, p. xvi
23
is that It was the surname of the author of the original text
11
whi ch the mural i11ustrated.
Also at the church of the Innocents in Paris are some
carvings depicting the theme. These were ordered by Jean
de Berry, a French nobleman, whose great concern with death
can be seen in the elaborate arrangements he made for his 1 O
own burial chapel. u
In France, however, the best surv iving representations
of the Dance of Death are the wall paintings at La Chaise-
D i e u and at Kenriar i a Nesquit in B r i t t a n y . ^ In England,
depictions of the Dance can still be seen on the walls of
village churches, such as the one at Widford in Oxfords hi re, 1 4
and in manuscripts, such as the Lisle Psalter.
There are two well-known series of woodcuts which helped
to popularize the term Dance of Deaths they are by Guyot
Msrchand and Hans H o l b e i n . ^ The earliest;, by Marchand, was
published in 1485. The more widely known series, that by
Hans Holbein, first appeared in 1538, in a book called Los
$imt.il achres et Hi stori ees faus do l a Mort. ^ In the woodcuts
of both Holbein and Marchand the only dancing figure is
Death himself, giving the series the character!sti cs of a
procession rather than a dance.
In the manuscripts, as in the visual depictions and the
early dances, all levels of medieval society are represented, ^ l b i d . 1 2Evans , p. 241 .
1 3 I b i d . ^Ibiri. , p. 242.
15 H arren 5 p. :xvi i i. 1 6 I b i d . • '
24
each character being lead unv/illingly by Death, The first
written Dance of Death was probably composed in Latin by an
ecclesiastic; and the earliest printed versions are in
German J 7 There are three distinct ideas presented in the
literary Dance of Death of the fifteenth century: first,
the equality of all men in the presence of death; second,
the confrontati on of the living wtth the dead; arid third, 1 H
the actual dance.
The second idea, the 1i y i n g being confronted with the dead >
IS probably the basis for the theory that the Dance of Death.,
as it appears n medieval literature, is derived from a late thi rteenth-century poem in French, Le Di t des Troi s Morts et
19
des' Tfois Vifs. It is this subject which appears in the
fresco at La C h a i s e - D i e u in France arid in the carvings at
the church of the Innocents. Thus, there are actually two
depictions of the motif, both based on the same literary
theme, but on di fferent aspects of it.
One translation of the Dance of_ Death from French into
English was made by Lydgate in 1426. He was apparently
employcd to write the verses for a mural on this theme which o n
is at St. Paul's in France. " There are twelve manuscripts
of the English version of the Dance of Death, and one early
printed version from Tottel 1s press , dated 1 554.^ 1 The ^ 7 Ibid. , p. x. 8Ibi d. , p. x i i
^ 9Evans , p. 241. ^°Warren xxi i
Ibid . , p. xxi v,
25
manuscripts date from the middle to the end of the fifteenth
century, with one excepti on, the Vespasian manuscript, which
is dated later than the fifteenth century.
The twelve manuscripts are arranged in two groups,
diyided according to the general arrangements of the characters
They are labeled Group A and Group B, each group including
six manuscripts. Group A contains the Selden Supra MS, the
El 1esmere MS, the Marleian 116 MS, the Trinity College MS,
the Laud 735 MS, and the Bodley 221 MS. Group B contai ns the
Corpus Christi 237 MS; the Bodley 686 ; the Lansdowne 699 ; the
MS Leyden, Codi com 9, catalogi Voss. g g 4; the Lincoln
Cathedral C.5.4; and the Vespasian A 2 5 . 2 2
The Ellesmere manuscript from Group A, John Lydgate's
translation from the French, will be used for this study. 2 3
The manuscripts in Group A follow the French versions; those
in Group B change the order of characters and add six. The
characters of the El 1esmere manuscript appear in this order:
Death, Pope, Emperor, Cardinal, King, Patriarch, Constable,
Archbishop, Baron, Lady of Great Estate, Bishop, Squire, Abbot,
Abbess, Bailiff, Astronomer, Burgess, Canon, Merchant,
C h a r t e r e r , Sergeant, Monk, Usurer, Poor Man, Physician,
Amorous Squire, Gentlewoman Amorous, Man of Law, Juror,
2 2 1 bid. 23
Ibid. , pp. 2-76. Further reference to this work will be taken"from this volume. The line and stanza, or merely the stanza when applicable, will appear in parentheses at the end of the reference.
26
M i n s t r e l , T r e g e t o u r , P a r s o n , L a b o r e r , Friar M i n o r , C h i l d ,
C l e r k , H e r m i t , dead King* and. M a c h a b r e the D o c t o r . These
t h i r t y - s i x i n d i v i d u a l s from all classes of s o c i e t y are s u m m o n e d
by Death. Death uses four d i s t i n c t a p p r o a c h e s : he is c o u r t e o u s
to a few; he is s a r c a s t i c and -mocking to o t h e r s ; he is vengeful
toward some of the c h a r a c t e r s ; and with some he d e f i a n t l y states
facts w h i c h speak for t h e m s e l v e s .
T h e r e are also four d i s t i n c t ways in w h i c h Death is
recei ved by the t h i r t y - s i x c h a r a c t e r s . Some are ready for
h i m ; others regret b i t t e r l y that they must leave behind their
w o r l d l y l i v e s , l a m e n t i n g that nothing can gain them a repri eve;
some lament that their various p r o f e s s i o n a l skills can do
them no good when Death comes and d e s p i s e being p o w e r l e s s ; and
there are a few who show great fright or d i s m a y . Two indivi-
duals defy c l a s s i f i c a t i o n in their u n i q u e replies to Death.
T h e y are the S e r g e a n t and the M i n s t r e l , who will be studied
along with the others 1ater in the c h a p t e r .
The first group is m ade up of nine c h a r a c t e r s w h o m Death
a p p r o a c h e s with more c o u r t e s y than the o t h e r s . This group can
be d i v i d e d f u r t h e r into three p a r t s : those w h o s e s t a t i o n and
c h a r a c t e r Death r e s p e c t s ; those for whom he shows p i t y ; and
those to w h o m he e x t e n d s an i n v i t a t i o n rather than the e x p e c t e d
s u m m o n s . The c h a r a c t e r s who are arranged in this group are, in
the o r d e r they a p p e a r in the poem, the Pope , the E m p e r o r , the
K i n g , the C h a r t e r e a u x , the Monk, the M i n s t r e l , the L a b o u r e r ,
the Friar M i n o r , and the Child.
27
The Pope is the first person whom Death approaches in
the poem. Death's words show his respectful attitude, a
result of the Pope's high earthly office and his manner of
carrying it out:
Vp-on thi s daunce/ firste beyun shal As rnoste worthi lorde/ and gouernowre For al the worschi p/ of *>cwre astate papal
And of lordschip/ to god"i s the honoure (VIII , 61-64).
A similar form of respect is shown to the Emperor whom
he addresses as "Sir Emperowre/ lorde of all the grounde /
Soueren Prince/ and hyest of noblesse. . ." (X, 73-74). Death
uses titles ironically to some of the other individuals, but
here he seems to be sincere in his respect.
Death is respectful to the character called Chartereaux,
who is a monk. In this case , Death tells the man to give hi m
his hand and to avai1 himself unto the dance. Death seems to
want to comfort the man when he says: "Lenger to lyve/ sette
not <5QWfe memorie / Thowg^ I be lothsome/ as yn apparence /
Above al men/ deth hath the victorie" (XLIV, 350-352). Then,
to the character identified as the Monk, Death shows a similar
form of respect, as he seems to feel compelled to point out
the worthiessness of life and its inevitable end: "To erthe
and asshes/ turneth eueri floure / The life of man/ is but a
thynge of nowght" (XLVIIl", 383-384).
The Friar Minor is approached courteously, as Death
extends his own hand to him; "Sire Cordelere/ to -jow my hande
is rawght / To this daunce/ ^ o w to conveie ande lede. . ." (LXXI
561-562).
28
In a di fferent tone, but still with great consideration*
Death approaches the Child. He offers a comforting thought to
the Child: "Who 1 engest leueth/ trioste shal suffre wo" (LXXIII,
584).
To the Minstrel and to the Labourer Death appears
sympatheti c arid even apologetic. He says to the Minstrel,
"By the fight honde/ [anoone I] shal the gri pe / With these
Other/ to go yp«on m y daunce / Ther is no scape/ nowther
g~yoydaunce" (LXIII , 499-501 ). Death seems not only sympathetic
to the labourer, but indeed explains why he has come for him.
This explanati on is the only one Death gives to any of the
characters.
And cause whi/ that I the assaile Is won!i this/ from the to di sseuere The fa 1s worlde/ that can so folke faile
He is a fole/ that weneth to lyve euere (LXIX, 549-552)
There are several characters to whom Death mentions a
change of dress for the dance; they are the Cardi nal , the King,
the Abbess, the Burgess , and the Hermite. In most cases, the
suggestion is a mocking request. The only one to whom a change
Of dress is suggested in a respectful manner is the King. Death
tells him he must give up his rich clothes and wear only a
single sheet, i.e. a shroud: "Who most haboundeth/ here yn
grete r'ichesse / Shal here with him/ but a sengle shete" (XIV,
111-112).
The second group is the largest, being made up of those
Individuals toward whom Death is sarcastic and mocking. In
this group are, in the order of their appearance in the poem,
29
the Cardinal, the Patriarch, the Baron, the Lady of Great
Estate, the Squire, the Abbot, the Abbess, the Bailiff, the
As tronomer> the Burgess, the Physician, the Amorous Squire,
and the Gentl ev/oman .
Death-mocks the Cardinal's vanity in his dress: " v,owre
grete a-rai/ al shal be-leue here / /jowre hatte of rede/ ^owre
vesture of grete coste. . (XII , 93-94). Sarcastically,
Death approaches the Patriarch with a list of the virtues
wfitch will not help him escape death (stanza XVI). He
addresses the Baron with a mocking tone, telling hiro to forget
trumpets and clarions and dancing with ladies in the shade
Cstqnz^ H U ) . Similarly mocking the Lady of Great Estate,
he calls her to join the dance since none of her lover's
tricks will help her now (stanza XXIV). Death not on 1y mocks
the squire's befng freshly horsed, but he is sarcastic about
the young man 1s knowing all the new earthly dances :
Come fort ho Si re Squyer/ right fressh of ^owre arai That can of daunces/ al the riewe gyse. ?
Thowj -5>e bare amies/ fressh horsed *,isterdai. . ." (XXVIII , 217-219). J
The rotund Abbot is approached in almost a jesting manner
qs Death says; "Grete is *,owre hede/ -^owr be 1 i large & fatte /
3 e mote come daunce/ tohw$-»>e be nothi ng light. . (XXX, 235-236)
Exhibiting the strange, fascination with putrefaction which
medieval people seem to have had, Death points out, "Who that
is fattest/ I haue hym be-hight / In his graue/ shal sonnest
putrefie" (XXX , 239-240).
30
Speaking more sarcastically about the Abbess 1 luxurious
life, Death says she must leave behind her furred mantels ,
her veil and wimple, her great riches, and soft beds (stanza
XXXII).
The neat four individuals are taunted for haying had
power in life, but no defense against Death. They are the
Bailiff, the Astronomer, the Burgess, and the Physician. To
the Bailiff, Death points out the irony of their change of
positions (stanza XXXIV}. He mocks the Astronomer's knowledge
of the stars and all his instruments, none of which is of any
further use to him (stanza XXXVI) , and scolds the Burgess for
trying to tarry (stanza XXXVIII). The recurri ng theme of the
lost fortune is used here when Death tells the latter that
his huge treasure will now go to strangers. He calls him a
fool who does not know for whom he is stuffing his garners.
The same theme appears again in The Castle of Perseverance,
to be studied in a later chapter. Death approaches the Physician
tn much the same manner as the Astronomer, pointing out that
none of the physician's knowledge or skill wi11 help him now
(stanza L111).
Similar approaches are used for the Amorous Squire
(stanza LV) , and the Gentlewoman (stanza LVII). He mocks
their youth and points out that their beauty has been arrested.
The thi rd group, of seven individuals, is made up of those
toward whom Death is vengeful: the Bishop, the Canon, the
Usurer, the Man of Law, the Juror, the Parson, and the Clerk.
31
Death's vengeance toward the Bishop is seen here: "For
to accounte/ ^ e shu.1 be brow^t to lure / No wight is sure/
that clymbeth ouer hye" (XXVI , 207-208). The theme which
appears in Everyman, studied in Chapter III, of Death's
coming when he is least expected , is seen when Death approaches
the Canon (stanza XL). Death's vengeful atti tude toward the
Canon appears in the same stanza: "And ^e Si re Chanoun/ with
many grete prebende / -*>e mai no lenger/ haue distribucioun/
Of golde & silver largeli to dispende. . .11 (XL, 313-315).
Death tells the Usurer that none of his greed or covetous-
ness will help him at death (stanza L). As with the Bailiff,
Death points out to the Man of Law how the tables have been
turned against him. He tells him that the only council now
is truth: "But my fraunchi se/ is so large & huge / That
counceile noon/ a-vaile mai but trouth. . (LIX, 469-470).
Death accuses the Juror of basing decisions on bribery
and vindictively says: "But now 1ete see/ with thi teynte
face / To-fore the Juge howe thow cannest the quyte" (LXI,
487-488). The Parson is accused of thinking only of tithes
and offerings, forgetting his major concerns. Death tells
the Parson, vengefully, that hi s reward will match his desert
(stanza LXVII). Death is also vengeful when he approaches
the Clerk, who, he says, thought himself out of the reach of
Death. Death warns, "Who clymbeth hyest/ somme-tyme shal
dessende. . ." (LXXV, 597).
32
Toward the fourth group Death acts as a firm surnmoner only.
The individuals in this group are given the facts of the summons
but are not ridiculed, accuseds or shown especial respect.
Thi s group includes the Constable, the Archbi shop, the Merchant,
the Sergeant, the Tregetour or Magi ci an, and the Hermit.
Death asserts his right to call the Constable to dance
with him when he says: "Hit is my right/ to reste & yow
constrayn / With vs to daunce/ my maister si re Conestable. . ."
(XVIII , 1 37-138). Death tells the Archbi shop that he should
not withdraw from Death's nearness. He points out his close-
ness: "For dai be dai/ ther is none other geyne / Deth at
honde/ pursueth eueri coost. . ." (XX, 157-158). The Merchant
is asked to give Death hi s hand and to dance, leaving all
vainglory and worldly riches (stanza XL 11). The Sergeant
receives a warning not to rebel (stanza Xi.VI); there is no
champion, Death points out, so sturdy that another cannot
take him.
The Tregetour, or magician, holds the unique position of
being the only one called by name. Death notes his talent,
but summons him to join the dance just the same:
Maister Jon Rikelle/ ^4 some tyme tregetowre Of nobi11e harry/ kynge of Ingelonde And of Fraunce/ the myghti Conquerowre For a 11e the siei ghtes/ and turnyng of thyn honde Thow moste come nere/ this daunce to vnderstonde (LXV,
513-517).
The Hermi t recei ves a very plain summons, whi ch tells him to
dress for the dance: "Atte 1 aste ^itte/ ^e mote ^ow dresse/
^ A l t h o u g h Rikelle is here named, he cannot be identified historically.
33
Of my daunce/ to haue experience / For ther-a^eyne/ is no
resistence / Take now 1 eve/ of thyn Ermytage. . (LXXVII ,
611-614).
The four categories of Death's attitude or approach do
not reveal'a pattern which might group the individuals
according to profession. Death has varying attitudes toward
men of the church, depending upon the individual. It is the
same with all other professional divisions. It might be
noted, however, that he is sarcastic or accusing to al1 three
women who appear in the poem. It must be remembered that the
Dance of Death was originally an all male masque. The women
may have been added for their vulnerability to a rnocking
Death.
It is interesting now to note how the various individuals
react to Death's summons. Only three show dismay or fright:
the Bailiff, the Usurer, and the Child. The Bailiff is
distressed because he has been caught unprepared > and he says:
"0 thou lorde god/ this is an harde Journe / To which a-forne/
I toke but lite! hede" (XXXV, 273-274). The Usurer is grieved
to die: "Now me behoueth/ sodynly to dey / Which is to me/
grete peyrie & grete greuaunce" "(LI, 401 -402). The Child is
frightened and regrets having to leave the v/orld to which it
has so recently come. The infancy of the Child is poignantly
clear: "A a a/ a words I can not speke / I am so ^onge/ I was
bor e T i starc!ai" (LXXIV , 585-586).
34
T h e n e x t g r o u p is m a d e up of t h o s e i n d i v i d u a l s w h o are
r e a d y to a c c e p t D e a t h : the P o p e , the B i s h o p , the A b b o t , the
Man of Lav/, the C h a r t e r e a u x , the J u r o r , t h e L a b o u r e r , and the
H e r m i t . T h e P o p e ' s a c c e p t a n c e of D e a t h is b a s e d on his
k n o w l e d g e of its i n e v i t a b i l i t y :
But for al t h a t / deth I mai not f 1 e e On his d a u n c e / w i t h o t h e r for to t r a c e For w h i c h al h o n o u r e / w h o p r u d e n t l y can see
Is l i t e ! w o r t h e / t h a t d o t h soo s o n e p a c e ( I X , 6 9 - 7 2 ) .
T h e B i s h o p is not h a p p y , but he too s e e s the i n e v i t a b i l i t y
( s t a n z a X X V I I ) . T h e A b b o t d o e s not f e a r D e a t h ' s t h r e a t s , but
d o e s r e g r e t d y i n g a c l o i s t e r e r and l a m e n t s t h a t it is too
l a t e to c h a n g e his p r o f e s s i o n ( s t a n z a X X X I ) .
Th e Man of L a w , r e a l i z i n g t h e r e is no f u r t h e r a p p e a l ,
g i v e s in w i l l i n g l y : "For al m y w i t t e / and my g r e t e p r u d e n c e /
To m a k e a p p e l e / f r o m his d r e d e f u l s e n t e n c e / No t h y n g yn
e r t h e / mai a man p r e s e r u e . . ." (LX, 4 7 6 - 4 7 8 ) .
Th e C h a r t e r e a u x is r e a d y to die and s a y s t h a t he has
long b e e n d e a d to the w o r l d by his own c h o o s i n g ( s t a n z a X L V ) .
T h e J u r o r ' s a t t i t u d e is one of r e s i g n a t i o n to the u n a l t e r a b l e .
He n o t e s t h a t t h e : c will be m a n y w h o will r e j o i c e at his d e a t h
( s t a n z a L X 1 1 ) . T h e L a b o u r e r is not so p a s s i v e , h a v i n g o f t e n
w i s h e d f o r d e a t h . His a t t i t u d e is s u m m e d up in t h i s s t a t e m e n t
" F o r I mai s e y / & t e l l e p l a y n l i h o w e / In t h i s w o r l d e / h e r e
t h e r is r e s t e n o o n " ( L X X , 5 5 9 - 5 6 0 ) . T h e last m e m b e r of t h i s
g r o u p , the H e r m i t , t h a n k s God f o r all his g i f t s and is r e a d y
to d i e , but d o e s r e g r e t t h a t e v e n l i f e in the d e s e r t c o u l d
not s a v e him f r o m D e a t h ( s t a n z a L X X V I I 1 ) .
35
Another group of individuals laments leaving their worldly
possessions, ranging from gold to beauty. Among them are the
Cardinals the Patriarchy the Archbishop, the Squi re, the Abbess,
the Burgess, the Monk, the Amorous Squi re, and the Parson.
The first, the Cardi nal , reveals hi s shallow nature when
he answers Death:
I haue grete cause/ certis this is no faile To be a-basshed/ and gretli drede me Sithen dethe is come/ me sodeynli to assaile That I shal neuer/ here after clothed by In gris ner hermyn/ like eke yn distresse Bi which I have/ [1erned] wel and se
How that al ioye/ endeth yn heuyness (XIII, 97-105).
It is evident that Death's mockery of the Cardinal is fully
justi fi ed.
The Patriarch's atti tude is one of regret that his
worldly possessions have deceived him, but he also laments
that all his happiness is now sadness: "Worldli honowre/
grete tresowre and richesse / Haue me deceyued/ sothfastli in
dede / Myne olde Joies/ ben turned to tristesse. . ." (XVII,
129-131).
The Archbishop replies to Death's summons with great
distress, but his joajor concern is saying adieu to his treasure,
his pomp and pride, his painted chambers, and his good looks
and freshness (stanza XXI). Similarly, the Squire says a final
goodbye to mirth and solace, the ladies, his beauty, and to
pleasure. He then gives a warning which is found again and
jagain in Medieval literature: "Thynketh [on] ^owre sowles/
or that deth manace / For al shal rote/ & no man wote what tyme"
36
(XXIX, 231 -232). In Everyman and in The Castle of Perseverance
that same warning is heard.
The Abbess replies to Death in a resigned tone, noting
only that she is leaving behind all that she has enjoyed:
"Thus cruel dethe/ doth al estats fyne / Who hath no ship/
mote rowe yn bote or barge" (XXXIII, 263-264).
The Burgess says he is greatly displeased to leave behind
his house rents and treasure, and gives the characteristic
warning that a man is a fool who sets his heart on goods which
are only lent to him and which will be given to a stranger at
his death (stanza XXXIX).
The monk's reply is humble, but he says he regrets leaving
his book and his cloister. He then gives a unique warning:
MA1 be not meri/ which that men seen daunce" (XLIX, 392).
This is a particularly appropriate reply to Death's summons to
join the Dance of Death.
The Amorous Squire responds as several others have,
bidding farewell to what he loved in life. He says goodbye
to the lusty, fresh flower of youth, to vainglory of beauty and
pride, to the service of Cupid, and to his ladies (stanza LVI).
The last member of this group who lament leaving their earthly
possessions also says goodbye to what has been his chief
interest: the parson says farewell to his tithes and offerings
(stanza LXVIII).
The next division of reactions to Death has similarities
to the preceding one, chiefly regret at leaving their possessions
37
behind. Although the individuals in this group do indeed
regret leaving their worldly loves, they are more greatly
distressed at being completely powerless before Death. Each
was accustomed in life to some degree of authority or power,
which Death strips away. In this group, a large one, appear
the Emperor, the Canon, the Tregetour, the Merchant, the
Constable s the Clerk, the Gentlewoman, the Physician, the
Astronomer, the Lady of Great Estate, the Baron, the King,
and the Friar Minor.
The first one in this group, the Emperor, states very
succinctly the idea most frequently expressed by them all:
"Ther-Vp-on sore/ I may compleyne / That 1ordes grete/ haue
Title a-vauntage" (XI, 87-88). The Canon says: "Dethe hathe
of me/ so grete a- vantage / A'l my riches se/ mai me not d i s -
porte" (XLI, 323-324). He also gives the warning that men
should prepare to die well.
The Tregetour laments simply that there are no tricks
he can use against Death, and bids farewell to his craft
(stanza LXVI). The merchant warns , characteri sti cally,
against over-valuing earthly treasure. He says that he
regrets that all his travels and experiences have no power
to help him against Death (stanza XLI 11).
The Constable gives in more readily than the others,
but he says it is because he sees, regrettably, that no
worldly powers have sway over Death (stanza XIX). On the
other hand, the Clerk's atti tude is fai rly unique in that he
38
is convinced there must be a better way than Death's summons:
"Is there no geyrie/ ne protcccion / Dethe maketh al weie/ a
short conclusion" (LXXVI, 603-605).
The Gentlewoman is saddened to realize that Death is
indifferent to old and young. She laments that Death has
checked her beauty, which was her major concern in life
(stanza L V111). The Physician says he has devoted his life
to finding cures, but regrets that he is powerless against
Death (stanza LIV). The Astronomer replies in a similar way
when he says all his knowledge is of no help at the end
(stanza XXXVII).
Like those in the preceding group, the Lady of Great
Estate bids farewell to what she has treasured, her beauty
and freshness, but she also notes the inability of anyone to
sway Death:
And on his daunce/ ^itte moste I nedes fote For ther [n]i s quene/ Countesse ne duchesse Flouryng in beaute/ ne yn feirnesse That she of dethe/ mote dethes trace sewe (XXV, 195-198).
The Baron remarks that though he was never beaten by
anything worldly, Death's one stroke has made him lame (stanza
XXIII}. The King's comment is notable; he says he does not
know how to dance: *
I haue not lerned/ here-a-forne to daunce No daunce in sothe/ of fotynge so sauage Where-fore I see/ be clere demonstraunce What pride is worth/ force or hye lynage Deth al fordoth/ this is his vsage. . . (XV, 113-117).
Last in this group is the Friar Minor who sums up the general
39
attitude in his reply: "In grete astate/ ne yn pouerty / In
no thynge founde/ that mai fro dethe defende. . . " (LXX11,
573-574}. He closes hi s reply with one last brief sermon:
"Wise is that synner/ that dothe his 1i f a-mende" (LXXII , 576).
The two individuals not included in any of the groups
discussed above are unique in their replies. The Sergeant's
reply is defiant, making him appear comic in comparison to
the other characters in their gravity:
How dar this dethe/ sette on me a-reste That am the kynges/ chosen officere Which '^esterdai/ bothe este & weste Myn offi ce dede/ ful surquedous of chore But now this dai/ I am a-rested here And mai not fie/ thowgh I had hit sworne Eche man is lothe/ to dye ferre and nere That hath not lerned/ for to dye a-forne (XL VII , 369-376).
The Minstrel's response is unusual in that he analyzes
the dance which Death proposes:
This newe daunce/ is to me so straunge Wonder dyuerse/ and passyngli contrarie The dredful fotyng/ dothe so ofte chaunge And the mesu.res/ so ofte sithes vari e Which now to me/ is no thyng necessarie $it hi t were so/ that I might asterte But many a man/ if I shal riot tarie Oftc daunceth/ but no thynge of herte (LXIV, 505-512).
In retrospect, it may be said that generally the characters
in Dance of Death respond to Death in a way similar to that in
which he approaches them. Death knows the individuals well
and knows how they will react; consequently, the i ndi vi duals
are greatly affected by the tone of the summons.
40
T h e Dance of Death is important not only as a work in
itself, but also as the representation of a motif which
recurs wherever Death is personified in later Medieval English
literature. This poem from the Ellesmere manuscript is an
important stage in the development of the motif. Further use
of the motif, as it appears with Death personified, is studied
in the next two chapters.
CHAPTER III
MORAL PLAYS
Chapter I has already examined the macabre preoccupation
of the Middle Ages with death, because of the great mortality
rates from pestilences, human cruelty, and general poor
health condi ti ons. This concern wi th death is evidenced in
all art forms, especially sculpture, painting, and literature.
As a result of this pre occupation there were formed various '
reli gi ous cults duri ng the plague years. In addition to the
Flagellants, already noted, there existed another, more
popular cult, the cult of Death. It was very prominent in i
England, and, according, to some theories, played a signi-
ficant role in the development of the morality pi ay. 2
Death had always figured prominently in Christian
doctrine, but in the fervently religious fifteenth century O
it reached a much greater intensity. Traditional literary
forms by clergymen included, during the fifteenth century,
many instructive treatises on the art of dying. There was
detailed information on preparing for the final hour of life,
and explanations of death, judgment, heaven, and hell.^ "'Arnold Williams, The Drama of Medieval England (Michigan
1961), p. 147. 21 b i d , 31 bid.
41 b i d .
41
42
The special advice on how to die well was based not so
much on fear of death itself, but rather on the fear of dying
unprepared. If a man were prepared for death by the means
recommended by the church, he would have been in a state of
grace, and he needed to have no fear of undergoing the tortures
of purgatory.^
The means of preparing oneself were very expli ci t, and
the subject matter with which one should be familiar was
definite. It included a knowledge of the Ten Commandments,
the Articles of the Faith, the Pater Noster, the Seven Deadly
Sins, the Seven Cardinal Virtues, and the Seven Sacraments of
the church. Of great importance too was a familiarity with
the ars moriendi , the art of dying.® Knowing this matter
presumably allowed one to live in such a way that death
would not hold pain.
The fine arts of the fifteenth century abound in highly
realistic portrayals of the horrid physical effects of death.
A recurrent subject was the consumption of the decaying body
by worms, a realistically carved or painted reminder of human
mortality. The Dance of Death motif was very popular during
the fifteenth century and can be seen in the fine arts as well
as in poetry and drama.
5Helen Thomas, "Some Analogues of Everyman ," Mi ssissi ppi Quarterly, XVI (Spring, 1963), 97.
6Ibid.
. K. Chambers, The Medieval Stage (Oxford, 1903), p. 153.
43
There is a basic connection between the morality play
and the Dance of Death motif. Both grew out of the same
psychological atmosphere, man's recognition of the inevitability
of death and its consequences. 8
In all medieval treatments of the Dance of Death, including
Holbein's series of woodcuts illustrating this theme, the sum-
mons of Death is used, presenting the warning that Death comes
when least expected and is no respecter of persons.^ This
theme had abundant allegorical possibilities which the medieval
artists and writers recognized and used extensively. There
are some who believe that the early dramatic versions of the
Dance of Death in French, German, and Spanish are really
morality plays lacking only the abstraction of man as hero 1 f)
to be complete.
Two of the extant fifteenth century moral plays in
English, of which there are only six in all, are based on a
theme similar to that of the Dance of Death; they are the 1 1
fragmentary Pryde of Lyfe and Everyman. - A thi rd morali ty
pi ay s The Castle of Perseverance is based themati cally on
the conflict between good and evil for the soul of mankind. 8Wi11i ams , p. 147.
^Albert C. Bauqh, editor, A Literary History of England (New York, 1948) , p. 284.
"^Hardin Crai g, English Religious Draina of the Middle Ages (Oxford, 1 955), p. 346. ~
^ C h a m b e r s , p. 155.
44
b u t i t c o n t a i n s , s e c o n d a r i 1 y , 0 s i m i l a r theme of t h e summons
of D e a t h . In a l l t h r e e p l a y s in which t h i s theme o c c u r s ,
Death a p p e a r s i n p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n .
M y s t e r y p l a y s , b a s e d i n t h e i r b e g i n n i n g s on S c r i p t u r e ,
a r o s e f r o m ' s e r v i c e s on p a r t i c u l a r o c c a s i o n s i n t h e l i t u r g i c a l
y e a r . M i r a c l e p l a y s , on t h e o t h e r h a n d , t r e a t t h e l i v e s of
t h e s a i n t s and m a r t y r s . Both o r i g i n a t e d f r o m t h e same a r t i s t i c
1 ?
i m p u l s e w i t h i n t h e c h u r c h , and in e x a c t l y t h e same way. ~ The
"mora l p l a y , " o r m o r a l i t y , i s d r a m a t i z e d a l l e g o r y . The t e r m
and t h e f o r m i t s e l f have e x i s t e d s i n c e t h e f i f t e e n t h c e n t u r y
and c o n n o t e e t h i c a l and r e l i g i o u s p u r p o s e . ^ ^ The E n g l i s h
mora l p l a y s have one u n i v e r s a l p l o t : t h e m i c r o c o s m of man
r e g a r d e d as t h e e p i t o m e of t h e w o r l d . ^ The m y s t e r y and
m i r a c l e p l a y s were more r e p r e s e n t a t i v e of t h e m a c r o c o s m .
The m y s t e r i e s in p a r t i c u l a r were t h e most c h a r a c t e r i s t i c
t y p e of m e d i e v a l drama and were t h e mos t p o p u l a r d r a m a t i c
f o r m in t h e M i d d l e Ages . ^ However , Dea th was n o t a l l e g o r i z e d
i n e i t h e r t h e m y s t e r y o r t h e m i r a c l e p l a y s .
D u r i n g t h e f i f t e e n t h c e n t u r y , r e l i g i o u s e m p h a s i s s h i f t e d
away f r o m i n s t i t u t i o n a l i z e d f o r m s t o s a l v a t i o n of i n d i v i d u a l
m a n . 1 6 Thi s s h i f t b r o u g h t t h e l a i t y much c l o s e r i n t o t h e
f r a m e w o r k of r e l i g i o n and made t h e mora l p l a y a p e r t i n e n t
f o r m of d r a m a , s i n c e i t d e l i v e r e d u n i v e r s a l e t h i c a l m e s s a g e s
which m i g h t be a p p l i e d i n d i v i d u a l l y .
^ C r a i g , p . 320 . ^ 0 1 b i d . , p . 3 4 3 . -
141 b j d . , p . 3 4 4 . 1 5 Charnbers , p . 1 4 9 .
^ W i 11 i ams , p . 1 47 .
45
The development of the moral pi ay is hard to trace since
the form seems to have sprung forth fully developed. One
theory is that it is an extension of the miracle pi ay in the
1 7
direction of allegory. The changes would have been great,
however, to shift not only from the specific to the abstract
in terms of the characters, but also to change the dramatic
purpose from establishment of faith to religious education.
The strongest theory concerning the origin of the moral
pi ay is that it is a dramatic treatment of the Dance of
Death, with man's struggle for salvation a dominant t h e m e . ^
This chapter will study two moral pi ays as they use the theme
of Death in pers oni fi cati on. The character of Death himself
will be the basis for comparison of the two plays. The first
to be studied will be Everyman, the second will be The Cast!e
of Perseverance. The other extant moralities from this
period are of a different nature and will only be mentioned
here. They are Wisdom, a play built on the temptation of a
monk; Mankind, which is really a comedy in the framework of
a moral i ty and Thjs World and the Child, which traces a
man's progress from cradle to grave.
The moral play has certain characteristic themes which
were used individually or together, depending on the writer's
particular purpose. When only one theme is used, the form is
^ C h a m b e r s , p. 151. ^ C r a i g , p. 345.
1 9Ibid. , p. 348. 2 0 B a u g h , p. 285,
46
p i
called partial; when all are used 3 it is called full-scope.
Everyman is an example of the partial; The Castle of Perseverance
is full-scope. The most characteristic themes of the moral
plays are the Summons of Death; the conflict of Vices and
Virtues for supremacy in man's life and for his soul; 2 2 the
battle between a good and a bad angel for man's soul; and the
Parliament of Heaven, or the Debate of the Four Daughters of 23
God. All of the themes are centered around the problem of
man's salvation and the living of life to achieve salvation.
The moral pi ay Everyman is believed to have been written
during the fifteenth century, probably early in the century,
though the extant versions are dated at the beginning of the 24
sixteenth century. As we have seen, the theme of Everyman
is the Summons of Death, a theme which appears as only part
of the whole scheme in The Cast!e of Perseverance, the longest
and most comprehensive of the moralities.
Everyman covers only the last day in the hero's life.
In a prologue the messenger warns of the imminence of Death
to all men and says that the play is going to tell how God
called Everyman to a reckoning. The play starts with a
speech by God on the sinfulness of mankind. He calls on
Death to deliver a summons to Everyman to prepare for his
great reckoning, and Death obeys. Everyman, who is first 2 1 W i l l i a m s , p. 144. • 2 2 B a u g h , p. 283.
2 3Crai g , p. 349. OA
A. C. Cawley, editor, Everyman and Medi eval Mi racle PI ays (New York, 1962), p. 205.
47
seen walking alone, is greatly shocked by Death's delivering
the summons. Declaring his unreadiness, Everyman tries to
bribe Death to forestall, but Death refuses the bribe and
urges Everyman to get ready his book of accounts.
Everyman then approaches his friends to find someone to
accompany him on hi s journey. He confronts and is turned down
by Fellowship, Kindred and Cousin, and Goods. At last. Good
Deeds says she would gladly go, but she is too weak. She says
her sister Knowledge will give him advice and help him make
his reckoni ng. Knowledge appears and offers to be Everyman 1s
guide. They first go to Confession, who gives Penance to
Everyman. After Everyman scourges himself, Good Deeds is
able to rise and walk. Everyman then puts on the robe of
contrition.
Good Deeds advises Everyman to seek Discretion, Strength,
and Beauty to accompany him. Knowledge tells him to call on
Five Wits as counselors. Everyman calls them all together
and each agrees to go with him on the journey. Everyman
receives the last sacraments and extreme unction; then he
begins to die. As he dies, first Beauty leaves him, then
Strength, then Discretion, then Five Wits; only Good Deeds
remains with her sister Knowledge, but even Know!edge cannot
go to the grave with Everyman.
48
Everyman then dies and goes to his grave accompanied by
Good Deeds. Knowledge says she hears the angels, and from 2 5
within the grave an angel speaks, welcoming Everyman.
Everyman is sub-titled, "Here Begynneth a Treatyse How
Ye Hye Fader of Heuen Sendeth Dethe to Somon Euery Creature
to Come and Gyue Acounte of Theyr Lyves in this Worlde, And
is in Maner of a Moral! PI aye." One theory is that it was
not considered a stage-play, but rather, as the sub-title says, 0
a treatise in the framework of a moral play. There is no
proof that Everyman was ever performed before the nineteenth
century. There are no instructions for staging, costuming,
or action in the extant manuscripts. In other medieval
moralities these things were included, even diagrams in the
case of The Cast!e of Perseverance.
Everyman is known to be much older than the extant
manuscripts of it, which are dated from 1509 to 1535 by
various scholars. Two editions of the manuscripts, printed
by Richard Pynson, are only fragmentary, but two, printed by 9 7
John Skot, are complete. There is controversy over the
question of Everyman's origin. It is not known whether it
is the original or a translation of the Dutch play Elckerlijc, oc Joseph Qui ncy Adams, Chief Pre-Shakespearean Dramas
(New York, 1924), pp. 288-303. All further references to the pi ay Everyman will be taken from this edition and will be identi fi ed by the line numbers, in parentheses, taken there-from. All bracketed material is Adams'.
^ W i l l i a m s , p. 160. 2 7 C a w l e y , p. 205
49
which it closely resembles. A third possibility is that both O O
dramas have a common source.
Whichever came first, the play is, according to most
theories, a product of all Catholic Europe, riot of any one
country in particular.^ 9 The fear of death is universal, \
and Everyman's spiritual victory over death, or over the
fear of death, is obviously a common expression of Christian
doctrine. Everyman does have an unusual moral theology for
3 morality play. The author, obviously an imaginative church-
mans is not concerned with the conversion or saving of non-
Christian souls. His aim is apparently to speak to an audience o n
who are already members of the church. In the play it is
assumed that Everyman is already a baptized Christian, but
that his life has not been lead as it should. The play is
concerned with the means by which he is restored to grace.
The generalized hero and the happy ending are the pro-
ducts pf the play's demonstrating the possibility of salvation
for all of humanity, which is representative of a Catholic
theological perspective."^ Later, when the theology shifted ^ The leading argument that Everyman is the original is
Henry de Vocht's Everyman (Germany, 1 963T; J. M. Manly, in EM'ckefl i j c - Everyman: The Question of Priority," Modern
PhTTVfogyT~VIII (October, 1910), 269-277 , leads the opposing argument."
29 Cawley , p. 205.
3 0Lawrence V. Ryan, "Doctrine and Dramatic Structure in 1Eyeryman' ," Speculum , XXXII (October, 1 957), 723.
Dayid Kaul a, "Time and the Timeless in Everyman and Dr. Faus tus," College English, XXII (October, I960), 9.
50
to P r o t e s t a n t p e r s p e c t i v e s , t h e e m p h a s i s w a s p u t on i n d i v i d u a l
d i l e m m a s , as in M a r l o w e ' s D r . F a u s t u s . ^ W h a t e v e r t h e t h e o -
l o g i c a l b a s i s m a y h a v e b e e n , t h e f a c t t h a t E v e r y m a n a v o i d s any
s e r i o u s c o n f l i c t b e t w e e n g o o d and e v i l f o r t h e soul o f m a n k i n d
ts I r r e l e v a n t to t h i s s t u d y . T h e i m p o r t a n t t h i n g is t h a t t h e
e n t i r e p l a y is b a s e d on a p r e o c c u p a t i o n w i t h d e a t h , f r o m t h e
f i r s t l i n e o f t h e p r o l o g u e , w h i c h is a w a r n i n g , to t h e l a s t
l i n e o f t h e e p i l o g u e , w h i c h d e l i v e r s t h e c o n c i s e m o r a l . T h i s
p r e o c c u p a t i o n t a k e s f o r m in t h e p e r s o n i f i e d D e a t h w h o is p r e -
s e n t e d as a w e l l d e v e l o p e d c h a r a c t e r in t h e p l a y .
D e a t h a p p e a r s in E v e r y m a n as G o d ' s b u s i n e s s - l i k e s u b o r -
d i n a t e and m e s s e n g e r , u n l i k e his a p p e a r a n c e as t h e m a l i c i o u s
3 3
a v e n g e r in o t h e r m o r a l i ty p l a y s . E v e r y m a n is a c t u a l l y o n e
f o r m o f t h e ars m o r i e n d i a l r e a d y m e n t i o n e d . T h e p l a y s h o w s
t h e e l e m e n t s o f D e a t h p e r s o n i f i e d in a p a r t i c u l a r s i t u a t i o n
w h e r e i n a p a r t i c u l a r m a n , r e p r e s e n t i n g all m e n , is s u m m o n e d
to g i v e a c c o u n t of h i s l i f e b e f o r e t h e a l l - h i g h j u d g e .
T h o u g h t h e e n t i r e p l a y s h o w s w h a t E v e r y m a n h a d to d o in p r e p a r -
a t i o n f o r d e a t h , it p o i n t s o u t i n d i r e c t l y h o w he s h o u l d h a v e
l i v e d in o r d e r tc a v o i d t h e l a s t m i n u t e r u s h to s e t a c c o u n t s
in o r d e r .
In k e e p i n g w i t h t h e t r a d i t i o n o f t h e ars m o r i e n d i ,
E v e r y m a n d e a l s s p e c i f i c a l l y w i t h t h e c h u r c h s a c r a m e n t s d i r e c t l y
c o n n e c t e d w i t h d e a t h : P e n a n c e , t h e E u c h a r i s t , and E x t r e m e U n c t i o n . 0 "
^ I b i d . ^ d e V o c h t , p. 1 9 4 .
^ T h o m a s , p. 1 0 3 . ^ ^ I b i d. , p. 9 8 .
51
The universe depicted in Everyman is one ruled by a benevolent
God who has complete control end who gives the sinner every
chance to redeem himself. Here Death is presented as the
inevitable event which all men must face, not a diabolical 36
force; the demonic element is kept safely at a distance.
However, the depiction of Death in the Dance of Death motif
is usually di fferent from the dignified messenger of Everyman.
He is usually a mocking, sadistic character who enjoys the
advantage of playing the only tune, of being inevitable. In
this difference lies the individuality of the character Death
in Everyman. In lines 80 through 181 of the play, Death and
Everyman are speaking to each other. Death does not relent
in his summons, he does not make any apologies, nor does he
flaunt hi s power or act jubilant a
He, in fact, seems to pity the ign
t his dominance over Everyman
orant, unready Everyman:
n walkynge. on my comynge;
Loo, yonder I se Eueryma Full lytell he thynketh Hi s mynde is on f1esshely lustes, and
his treasure; And grete payne it shall
endure Before the Lorde, heuen[
Death in Everyman is not depi
of God, but only as a respectful s
for his master is seen in his ways
as "In grete hast I am sende to th
Mageste" (lines 90-91), and again in his reference to God as
"... , .the Chefe Lorde of paradyse" (line 110).
cause him to
's] Kynge (lines 80-84).
cted as a force independent
ervant of God. His respect
of referring to God, such
e / Fro God out of his
^ K a u l a , p. 11.
52
On the other hand, Death's op in ion of h imse l f i s i n t e r -
e s t i n g : " I am Dethe, t ha t rio man dreacfeth; / For euery man
I r e s t , and no man spareth" ( l i n e s 115-116). He is f i n a l and
i m p a r t i a l in ser ious d i g n i t y . He fears and respects no one
and seems to consider h imse l f a kind of o f f i c i a l of the law
of God. The word res t in l i n e 116 might mean not only " to
s t o p , " but a c t u a l l y " to a r r e s t , " in the sense of a po l i ce
o f f i c e r ' s duty .
Eyeryman 's a t t i t u d e toward Death s h i f t s . He at f i r s t
tsfces him very l i g h t l y , t r y i n g to s t a l l f o r t ime , even o f f e r i n g
a b r i b e : "Yet of my good wyl 1 gyue ye , y f thou wyl be kynde; /
Ye? a thousand pounde sha l te thou haue, / And [ thou3 d y f f e r r e
t h t s mater t y l l an other daye" ( l i n e s 121-123). He becomes
more ser ious as he r e a l i z e s the s i t u a t i o n more f u l l y :
A las ! sha l l I haue no longer respyte? I may saye Deth geueth no warnynge! To thynke on the i t maketh my her te seke, For a l l vnredy is my boke of rekenynqe ( l i n e s 131-134).
The next change is s t i l l in despera t ion , but he has at l a s t
r e a l i z e d t ha t Death cannot be put o f f : "For though I mourne
i t auay1eth nought, / The day passeth, and i s almoost ago. /
I wote not we l l what f o r to do" ( l i n e s 193-195). By the end
of h is search f o r company f o r the j ou rney , when he has had
the advice of Knowledge and the t rue companionship of Good
Deeds, Everyman i s no longer desperate in hts a t t i t u d e toward
De^th:
53
Into thy hancies, Lorde, my soule I commende. Resceyue it, Lorde, that it be not lost. As thou me bough test, so me defende, That I may appere with that blessyd hoost That shall be saved at the day of dome (lines 880-885).
The Dance of Death motif then is used in that Everyman
proceeds on his way to the grave at the summons of Death and
dances to the tune of Death. There are no alternate routes
for Everyman. The character Death in this play, however, is
not in keeping with Death in the usual Dance of Death motif.
This difference is apparently the cause of one scholar's
saying that the Dance of Death is not actually the major
motif, but rather that the pilgrimage motif, known in other 37
1ater medieval non-dramati c works, is the dominant theme.
It is possible to see this point also, since Everyman does
indeed consider his way to the grave a journey or a pilgrimage
on which he wants company, as he states: "Alas! I may well
wepe with syghes depe! / Now have I no maner of company / To
helpe me in my iourney and me to kepe" (lines 184-186). The
two opposing theories need not be reconciled, however, since
they can exist side by side, and give a double meaning doubt! es:
intended by the author.
The effecti venes s of Everyman is in its highly serious
tone, unmarred by comic interlude, and in the simple plot, the
immediate approach of Death.
The second morality play in which Death is personified,
The Castle of Perseverance, is greatly different from Everyman
^^Wi11iams , p. 161
54
in its full-scope treatment of the traditional themes. Whereas
Everyman presents only one theme, the Summons of Death, Castle
presents all themes except, according to one scholar, the O O
pilgrimage motif which is present in Everyman. Cast!e is
dated c. 1405 and is the most extensive and complete of the 39
English moralities, containing not only action and costuming
instructions, but diagrams of the staging. Cast!e contains
a full range of themes: the Struggle of the Virtues and Vices
for the soul of Mankind; a Good and a Bad Angel battling each
other for man's soul; the World, the. Flesh, and the Devil,
assisted by the Seven Deadly Sins, fighting against Confession,
Penitence, Absolution, and the Six Heavenly Graces; and the
Parliament of Heaven or the Debate of the Four Daughters of
God, in which Justice and Truth prosecute and Mercy and Peace
defend M a n k i n d . ^
Cast!e has a somber evenness of structure which gives it
a funereal aspect but Death's summons is not the dominant
motif, as we have noted. The battle between the forces of
good and evil make up most of the action. In Cast!e, as in
Everyman, Death is represented as giving a warning lesson to
humanity by killing Mankind.
The play begins with the traditional banns; then the
World, the Flesh, and the Devil all state their positions.
•^Craig, p. 348. ^ I b i d . ^ 3^3_
4 0 I b i d . , p. 349. ^ W i l l i a m s , p. 153.
55
Next Mankind appears, bemoaning the fate of being born into
this world. He introduces his Good and Bad Angels. The Good
Angel speaks, then the Bad Angel, each giving Mankind advice.
The former advises him to follow God and be saved; the latter
says to follow evil and be rich. Mankind characteristically
chooses to be rich. The Good Angel pleads with him to recon-
sider, to think of his dying day and the welfare of his soul,
but Mankind goes off with the Bad Angel.
Lust and Folly then join Mankind and the Bad Angel in
going to the World, who tells Mankind he must give up all
service to God and be wholly in service to the World alone,
thereby making himself rich and attractive to pretty ladies.
Mankind is then approached and enticed by all of the Seven
Deadly Sins, all of whom he gladly accepts.
He is then approached by Shrift and Penance, who persuade
him to give up his sins. He asks to be given a place safe
from the Seven Deadly Sins, and is taken to the Castle of
Perseverance. The Seven Moral Virtues who reside therein
welcome him.
After he has lived there for a time, the World, the Flesh,
and the Devil, with the help of the Seven Deadly Sins, prepare
to attack the Castle. The Virtues defend it and drive off the
first attackers, the Devil and his followers, by bombarding
them with roses, symbolizing Christ's passion. Next, the Flesh
and his followers attack and are beaten back. As a last resort,
the World has Covetousness approach Mankind alone. He appeals
56
to Mankind's old age, and in his greed Mankind relents,
leaving the Castle and adopting the motto, "More, More."
At last Death enters the action and decides it is Mankind's
time to go. When he delivers the summons, Mankind appeals for
help first'to World, who refuses him. He laments on and on,
only at the last appealing to God; then he dies. The Soul
1 eaves the body and addresses it in an upbraiding tone. The
Bad Angel reappears to take the Soul off to Hell on his back,
but since the Soul had cried for mercy at the last, God's
daughters Mercy and Peace debate with their sisters Truth
and Justice on whether Mankind should go to Hell. The judge, 4?
God, decides in favor of Mankind and allows him into Heaven. *
The character of Death in Cast!e is much nearer the
tradition of the Dance of Death motif. According to the
stage directions, Death "enters the scene carrying a dart.
This is in keeping with the usual visual depiction of a
spear-carrying Death in the Dance of Death motif. He is not
a dignified messenger, but an arrogant, mocking, full-fledged
force in himself. This arrogance can be seen in this speech:
Whanne I com, iche man drede forthi, But yit is ther no geyn [i]-went, Hey hyl , holte, nyn hethe. Ye schul me drede, every-chone; Whanne I com, ye schul grone! My name in londe is left a-lone: I hatte "Drery Dethe". . . (lines 2785-^2791 ).
^ A d a m s , pp. 265-287. All further references to lines from this play will be from this edition. All bracketed, material is Adorns1 except for the modern English translations
57
[When I come, each man shall therefore dread, And yet is there no help hoped for, High hill, holt, n o r he ai h. You shall fear ine, everyone; When I come, you shall groan! I am called "Dreary Death". . . .]
In Cast!e, Death appears as an avenger bringing agony:
I schal hym prove of myn empryse; With this poynt I schal hym breche, And wappyn hym in a woful wyse; No body schal ben hys bote (lines 1236-1239).
[I shall prove my intent to him; With this spear I shall break him, And beat him in a woeful manner; Nobody can help him.]
In contrast to Death in Everyman, Death in Castle flaunts
his power. This is apparent when he approaches Mankind:
I schal thee schapyn a schenful schappe : Now I kylle thee with myn knappe! I reche to thee, Mankynde, a rappe To thyne herte rote! (lines 2840-2843)
[I shall you shape a sorry shape: Now I kill you with my blow! I reach to you, Mankind, a rap To your heart's root!]
Mankind's attitude toward this arrogant avenger is, as
one might expect, immediate despair. Whereas in Everyman
Death had used a firm but quiet summons and Everyman had not
taken him seriously, in Castle, Death boasts and threatens
and Mankind immediately is convinced.
Death, as a character, does not remain long in the
action of Castle. He makes his summons clear and quickly is
gone, though hi s presence i s still felt until the end of the
play. In this play, Death seems -more a messenger of the Devil
58
than of G o d , though he should p r o b a b l y be c o n s i d e r e d i m p a r t i a l .
His a r r o g a n t m a n n e r , his w a r n i n g s and hi*s t h r e a t s , seem more
c h a r a c t e r i s t i c of the m e s s e n g e r from H e l l . This a s p e c t of
his c h a r a c t e r is much closer to the Dance of Death m o t i f
than are t h o s e of Death in E v e r y m a n . Death in C a s t l e refers
r e p e a t e d l y to physical horrors and p a i n s . In' E v e r y m a n he
keeps u r g i n g E v e r y m a n to set s t r a i g h t hi s a c c o u n t s . The
f o r m e r s u g g e s t s the t o r t u r e s of H e l l ; the 1 a t t e r i m p l i e s the
p o s s i b i l i t i e s of H e a v e n .
In c o m p a r i s o n , the c h a r a c t e r of Death in C a s t ! e fits
m o r e n e a t l y into the t r a d i t i o n a l m e d i e v a l a t t i t u d e toward
Death than does Death in Everyman*. A l t h o u g h they serve
d i f f e r e n t p u r p o s e s , the o u t c o m e is the same. In E v e r y m a n ,
D e a t h ' s p u r p o s e , as a c h a r a c t e r , is to f o r c e E v e r y m a n to
come to a r e a l i z a t i o n o f the true God and to m a k e his life
right. In C a s t ! e , the p u r p o s e of Death is to f r i g h t e n
Mankind and to catch him off guard.
T h u s , the S u m m o n s of Death theme is used in two d i f f e r e n t
w a y s , one p e r s o n i f y i n g Death as God's m e s s e n g e r , the o t h e r
p e r s o n i f y i n g Death as the m a l i c i o u s force i t s e l f , as seen in
the Dance of Death theme in all the a r t s , i n c l u d i n g m e d i e v a l
dratna.
CHAPTER IV
THE PARDONER'S TALE
The common medieva l theme of Death was at f i r s t most
p r e v a l e n t i n e c c l e s i a s t i c a l l i t e r a t u r e , but by the end of
the f o u r t e e n t h cen tu ry was w i d e l y used i n popu la r l i t e r a t u r e
as we l l . " " In The Canterbury T a l e s , the c h i e f mas te rp iece o f
popu la r l i t e r a t u r e , Chaucer s k i 11 f u11y uses a l1 forms o f
medieva l l i t e r a t u r e , f rom d i d a c t i c s t o r i e s and 'exempi a t o
bawdy f a b 1 i a u x , by a l l o w i n g the t a l e s to be t o l d by persons
o f every l e v e l o f s o c i e t y . Thje Pardoner ' s T a l e , whi ch t h i s
chap te r w i l l s t u d y , i s an example o f Chaucer 's use o f the
exemplum, a m o r a l i z e d t a l e used by medieval preachers t o
i l l u s t r a t e d o c t r i n e . The moral p o i n t o f t h i s exemplum i s
t h a t A v a r i c e must always lead to an e v i l end, or i n the words O
of the Pardoner , Radix malorum es t Cupid i t a s .
Th is s tudy w i l l not deal w i t h the v a r i o u s i r o n i c f e a t u r e s
of the Pardoner h i m s e l f , h i s c o n f e s s i o n s , or hi s sermon, but
on ly w i t h the t a l e i t s e l f and the use o f the Death m o t i f i n
t h a t t a l e , s p e c i f i c a l l y w i t h the p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n of Death.
1 j . H u i z i n g a , The Waning of the Midd le Ages (London, 1927) , p. 126. ~ " " *
2F. N. Robinson, e d i t o r , The Works of Chaucer (New York , 1933) , pp. 181-187 j l ine 334. "TuYther™"references "made to The Pardoner ' s Tale w i l l be taken from t h i s e d i t i o n ; on ly l i n e numbers V i 11 be c i t e d and those w i l l be g iven i n parentheses a f t e r the q u o t a t i o n .
59
60
The Pardoner's Tale has no one direct analogue, but several
sources were apparently used, the first recorded being of
oriental origin. Chaucer, however, obviously used later
Western versions as his sources, chiefly various novel 1e and
exempla, but he did not 1i mi t himself to those sources only."
Various aspects of The Pardoner's Tale seem to have been
taken f row several di f ferent and largely unidentifiable sources.
It is well known that Chaucer used current oral and written
folklore as sources for The Canterbury Tales. Traditional
motifs appearing in The Pardoner's Tale are the grouping in
three's; the dicing; the quest for death-, the symbolic person-
ification of Death; and the pledge of secrecy.^
In brief summary, The Pardoner's Tale is a story of three
young men who have devoted their lives to drinking and merry-
maMng. In their drunkenness , they are enraged to learn of
the death of a friend, and they swear oaths of brotherhood to
seek out §nd kill the scoundrel , Death, who was responsible
for their friend's untimely demi se. As they set out on their
search for Death, they meet an old man who is himself looking
for Death, 1n vain. He is, however, able to di rect the three
revel 1ers to the pi gee where he says they will find Death.
3W. F. Bryan and .Germai ne Dempster , edi tors , Sources and Analogues of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales (Chicago, 194177" pp." 415-416;
^Robert A. B a r a k a t, "Odi n: Old Man of The Pardoner's Tale," Southern Folklore Quarterly, XXVIII (Sept ember 19 64), 211.
61
The three are directed up a crooked path to a grove of trees
where under an oak tree they find a large quantity of gold
florins. Forgetting their search for Death, they begin to
decide on a plan for taking away the gold. Since the most
sensible plan is to wait until night to transport the gold
to their homes, they draw lots to see who is to bring food
and drink to sustain them until nightfall. After the youngest
of the three has gone for food and wine, the other two plot
his death so that the gold need only be divided in half. The
young roisterer sent for food buys poison for the other two
so that he can have all the gold for himself. Thus avarice
leads to the deaths of all three, for after the two who
remained with the gold have murdered the third, in celebration
they drink the wine which he has poisoned and are soon dead
also.
There are several ways in which the theme of Death appears
in this story. The setting and time of the story are closely
linked with Death. Further, the three revellers in their
drunkenness assume Death to be a literal being. The old man
whom they encounter is very much a part of th§ motif of Death
as are the oak tree, the gold, and the very sin of avarice.
The scene is set during plague time in fourteenth century
Flanders, an area notorious in the Middle Ages for drinking and
an abandoned style of living. The fourteenth century, a time
during which the flemish merchants held great power and fought
62
constantly among themselves for ever more power,^ was a time
of recurring outbreaks of the Bubonic Plague all over the Con-
tinent as well as in England. Chaucer's personal knowledge
of the ravages of the plague made his descriptive power even
more keen -in The Pardoner's Tale. England had large-scale
outbreaks of pestilence four times during the reign of
Edward III, in 1348-49, 1361-63, 1369, and 1375-76. The
three revellers in The Pardoner's Tale are among those all
oyer England and continental Europe who believed in making
the -most of life while there was still time, of taking as much
fooGj drink, and physical pleasure as possible. 7 The Pardoner's
e has an intensity and impressiveness not again reached in
English literature for two hundred years, chiefly because of the
theme of revel 1ry, drunkenness, and foul speech set against the
sordid background of the Black Death. 8
A familiar theme of the 1i terature of Chaucer's England
was that of the three Messengers of Death: Sickness, Disaster,
and Old Age.^ Chaucer uses this motif as part of the scheme
of The Pardoner's Tale by first introducing Sickness in the
form of the Bubonic Plague; then Old Age, character!zed by
6Dorothy M. Norris, "Chaucer's Pardoner's Tale and Flanders," PMLA , XL VI11 (June, 1933)7~6~3T.
7 R . K. Root, The Poetry of Chaucer (Boston, 1922), p. 228.
. M. Manly, Some New Light on Chaucer (Gloucester, Mass. 1959), p. 289. ' _
9Harie P. Hamilton, "Death and Old Age in 'The Pardoner's Tale 1 ," Studies in Philology, XXXVI (October, 1939), 573.
63
t h e o l d m a n , w h o is f o r t h e t h r e e r e v e l l e r s an a d v a n c e a g e n t
o f D e a t h ; t h e n D i s a s t e r , t h r o u g h t h e s u d d e n , v i o l e n t end of
t h e t h r e e r e v e l l e r s . ^
T h e b a s i c c o n c e r n o f t h e P a r d o n e r ' s e x e m p l uni, h o w e v e r ,
is D e a t h i t s e l f . It is t h e l i t e r a l r e s u l t o f all t h e a s p e c t s
o f cupi di tas p r e s e n t e d in t h e tal e. T h e P a r d o n e r is t r y i n g
a l w a y s to s h o c k h i s l i s t e n e r s w i t h t h e p r o f o u n d r e m i n d e r o f
t h e s u d d e n n e s s a n d i m m i n e n c e of D e a t h .
D e a t h is f i r s t i n t r o d u c e d by t h e t i n k l i n g o f a bell
h e a r d by t h e t h r e e r e v e l l e r s as t h e y d r i n k in a t a v e r n . T h e
b e l l is b e i n g c a r r i e d w i t h a c o r p s e . " A n d as t h e y s a t , t h e y
h e r d e a b e l l e c l y n k e / B e f o r n a c o r s w a s c a r i e d to h i s g r a v e "
( l i n e s 6 6 4 - 6 6 5 ) . T h e t a v e r n b o y i d e n t i f i e s t h e d e a d m a n as
a f r i e n d of t h e t h r e e and t h e n n a m e s a l s o t h e m u r d e r e r , " T h e r
c a m a p r i v e e t h e e f , m a n c l e p e t h D e e t h , / T h a t in t h i s c o u n t r e e
al t h e p e p l e s l e e t h " ( l i n e s 6 7 5 - 6 7 6 ) . T h i s is t h e f i r s t
p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n o f D e a t h . A f t e r t h e b o y h a s w a r n e d t h e m to
b e w a r e of D e a t h , t h e t a v e r n k e e p e r f u r t h e r s t h e p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n :
T h e c h i l d s e e t h s o o t h , f o r he h a t h s l a y n t h i s y e e r , H e n n e o v e r a >•: 11 e , w i t h i n n e a g r e e t v i l l a g e , B o t h e m a n and w o m m a n , c h i l d , and h y n e , a n d p a g e ;
I t r o w e h i s habi taci o u n be t h e r e , ( l i n e s 6 8 6 - 6 8 9 ) .
T h e r e v e l l e r s s w e a r an o a t h of m u t u a l fai th t h a t t h e y w i l l
f i n d a n d kill t h e " f a l s e t r a y t o u r D e e t h " ( l i n e 6 9 9 ) . T h i s o a t h
1 0 I b i d . , p . 5 7 4 .
1 1 R o b e r t P. M i l l e r , " C h a u c e r ' s P a r d o n e r , T h e S c r i p t u r a l E u n u c h , a n d t h e P a r d o n e r ' s T a l e , " S p e c u l u m , X X X ( A p r i l , 1 9 5 5 ) 1 9 4 . ~ ~
64
foreshadows their own deaths and marks them for that inevitable f o
end. Their deaths follow swiftly after their breaking of
the vow of brotherhood, thus making the false swearing of oaths 1 O
at least partially responsible for their deaths.
The three revellers, having set out on the road in search
of the personified Death, come upon an old man about whom
there is great critical disagreement. This old man is himself
in search of Death, as he admits in the following lines:
Ne Deeth, alias! ne wi1 nat han my lyf. Thus walke I, lyk a restelees kai tyf, And on the ground, which is my moodres gate, I knokke with my staf, bothe erly and late, . And seye "Leeve mooder, leet me in!" (lines 727-731).
This old man's search for death is in great contrast to the
search by the three young revellers. They are drunk and
excited, impatient to find the foe; he is seeking in a mood 14
of calm, philosophic meditation. The old man is called by
one critic the "one who remains perhaps the most tragic and
mysterious figure ever created in an equal number of lines in 1
any literature." ~ The enigma of the old man's character has
led some to believe he is a personification of Death.
The chief critic among those who consider the old man
as representative of Death says, "The Aged Wayfarer whom the
three ri oters encounter, and whom they treat wi th such rudeness, 1 2 R o o t , p. 229. 1 3 M i 1 l e r , p. 194. P 1 4 R o o t , p. 229.
^ M a n l y , New Li ght, p. 290
65
is undoubtedly Death In person."''6 The principal evidence
given to support this theory is that the old man says, "I
moot go thider as I have to go" (line 749). As one critic
points out, the old man must be on his way, just as Death
must be about its business during plague time. . The old man
as a personification of Death is confident that the three are
already his because he knows that coveting the gold to which 1 7
he has directed them will be their deaths. Other theories
exist, however, concerning the old man. One of these is that
the old man is possibly representative of Death's messenger,
Old Age.^ 8 Another is that the old man is symbolic of Death
in that he points the way to the grove of trees, even to an *1 0
oak tree, rather than merely pointing them toward Death itself. J
All of the studies which identify the old man as Death personi-20
fied use principally three pieces of evidence: that he is
described as wrapped up except for his face, "Why artow al
forwrapped save thy face?" (line 717); that he is called
Death's spy by one of the three revellers, "Thou spak right
now of thi1ke traytour Deeth, / That in thi s countree alle oure
freendes sleeth. / Have heer my trouth, as thou art his 1 6George Lyman Ki ttredge, Chaucer and His Poetry (Cambridge
1915) , p. 215.
Turbid. "^Robinson, p. 836.
19 Barakat, p. 212. 2 0Robert E. Todd,••"•The Magna Mater Archetype in The
r 1s Tale," Li terature and Psychology, XV (Winter, 1965) Pardoner's Tale 33.
66
espye, . . ." (lines 753-7 55); and that he directs the three
up a crooked path to an oak tree in a grove:
To fynde Deeth, turne up this croked wey, For in that grove I lafte hym, by my fey, Under a tree, and there he wole abyde; Noght for youre boost he wole hym nothyng hyde. Se ye that ook? Right there ye shal him fynde (lines 761-765).
Among the scholarship which disagrees with the interpre-
tation of the old man as Death, one specific rebuttal calls
the theory inadequate because the old man himself cannot effect
the deaths of the three, but can only direct them to where
they can find it. In this argument it is suggested that the
gold Itself might easily have accomplished the deaths of the ? 1
three had the old man never appeared. One wonders, of
course, whether the three would have found the gold without
directions from the old man. Another, more tenable argument is that it seems unlikely
that Death himself would be, by his own admission, seeking 22
death. Further disagreement with the theory that the old
man is Death personified is based on the fact that there is
insufficient textual evidence to support it, and that, further,
such an interpretation spoils much of the irony of the tale's o
Death motif.
^ N e l s o n S. Bushnel1 , "The Wandering Jew and the Pardoner's Tale," Studies in Philology, XXVIII (July, 1931 ) , 459.
^ A l f r e d David, "Criticism and the Old Man in Chaucer's Pardoner's Tale," College English, XXV11 (October, 1965), 39.
2 3 W . J. B. Owen, "The Old Man in 'The Pardoner's Tale'," Revi ew of English Studies, 11 ( January, 1 951 ), 49.
67
The old man can be interpreted as 01d Age, one of the
three Messengers of Death. The accusation by one of the
three revellers that the old man is the spy of Death can
be used as supportive evidence for this interpretation.
This moti f"was widely used in other poems of the same time;
it is likely that Chaucer too would employ the theme of the
three Messengers. The theory is basically that the old man
is ". . .clothed as it were in hi s master's Death's 1i very, O C
and hence resembles Death." He is described very clearly
by Chaucer, seven times being called "old man," once "old
churl," and four times "age," meaning Old Age. In this
interpretation, the old man's lack of love for money, or his
lack of greed, in his agedness makes him the perfect one to
direct the greedy, lustful young men to the gold, which he
recognizes as useless to himself but which he knows will bring
death to the three young m e n . ^ The gold is useless to him
not only because he has no more youth on which to spend it,
but also because he has outlived greed, the only way by which
gold can lead to death.
Further, evidence in support of this interpretation is
the idea that the old man must live on and on, thus repre-
sent i n g endless Old Age. If he were simply an old man, he
would die, as the aged die, but Age or Old Age always remains 9 7
as a perpetual reminder of Death.
^ H a m i l t o n , p. 576 . ^ I b i d. , p. 572. 2 6 I b i d . 2 7Tbid.
68
The evidence used to support the interpretation of the
old man as Old Age and the idea that the old man must live
on forever is used equally as effectively to support the
theory that the old man is symbolic of the Wandering Jew.
The legendary figure known as the Wandering Jew is today
identified with the Jew who refused rest to the weary Jesus
as he made his way to Calvary and who was condemned for this
to wander eternally over the earth waiting for the second p o
coming. However, if the Wandering Jew represents Death's
opposite, immortality, and if Chaucer used the Wandering
Jew legend as his source, the old man is not likely to
represent Death.
It is possible that Chaucer did -make use of an actual
model from contemporary tradition, if not the Wandering Jew,
then another. One critic sees a link between Chaucer's old 29
man and the legends of Odin, the Norse god. This connection
is made in part on the basis of the references to the oak tree
which often is used to imply Death, Odin's legendary rela-
tionship with death is certain. He appears in folk literature
as a stranger with a wide-brimmed hat and cloak or as a wild
huntsman. He is known also as the father of the slain, the
leader of souls, and as the god who leads his army of the
homeless dead through the air. Being the oldest of the Norse
gods, Odin is often portrayed -as an old man and is known by 2 8Bushnell , p. 452.
^ B a r a k a t , p. 212.
69
other names which suggest a close link with Chaucer's old man:
Hackeberg, or Hakolberend (mantle-wearer); Ski dskegg (long-
beard); Vafud, or Vegtam (wanderer); Viatorindefessus (Unwearied
traveler); Grimr (hooded); Ganglier (way-weary); Gondlir (staff-o n
bearer); and Vidforull (far-traveler).
If Chaucer did not use an existing tradition as the source
for his old man, and if the old man is not Death personified,
one must assume he might be literally intended as an old man, 31
as at least one study has noted. This study says that one
must accept a literal interpretation.of the old man because
there is no real evidence that the old man is an allegory of
death. In fact, there is strong evidence to the contrary. The
evidence in support of this theory is much like that of other op
theories. First, Chaucer s old man is himself seeking Death.
Further, there is textual proof, seemingly, that the old man
is not immortal. After begging Mother Earth to let him in he
says, "But yet to me she wol nat do that grace" (line 737).
The word "yet" implies that she will presumably allow him in O O
later. The very fact that the old man wishes to be allowed
to return to Mother Earth is further proof used in the argument.
The line, "No lenger thanne after Deeth they soughte" (line 772)
is pointless if the old man characterizes Death, for if he does,
the three have indeed already found Death when they meet him.
^ I b i d. , p. 213. 31W. j. B. Owen, p. 50.
3 2 I b l d . 3 3Ibi d.
3 4Xbi d.
70
As for the i n t e r p r e t a t i o n s of the old man as D e a t h ' s
m e s s e n g e r , this study points out that it is highly i n a p p r o -
p r i a t e that a m e s s e n g e r of Death in the form of Old Age should
a p p e a r to t h r e e y o u n g m e n . It is s u g g e s t e d that the only
a p p r o p r i a t e M e s s e n g e r of Death to this tale would be D i s a s t e r ,
35
w h i c h is m o s t likely and w h i ch in fact does o c c u r .
The i n t e r p r e t a t i o n in the same study of the old m a n ' s
a s s o c i a t i o n w i t h the gold is r a t h e r unusual and highly
q u e s t i o n a b l e : The old -man is s e e k i n g death not f l e e i n g from it, for he does not know i t is in the g r o v e ; he does not know w h e r e it is, m u c h as he would like to know. He does n o t , Indeed c a n n o t , lead the r e v e l l e r s to the gold and point it out to t h e m , for as far as he knows there is n o t h i n g t h e r e . 3 "
A c c o r d i n g to this s t u d y , the old man does not warn them
a g a i n s t w h a t they will find t h e r e , as the tavern boy has
w a r n e d them of e n c o u n t e r i n g D e a t h , b e c a u s e he thinks they
will find n o t h i n g . The e x p l a n a t i o n of this i n t e r p r e t a t i o n
is that s i nce the old man is still s e e k i n g death when he meets
the r e v e l l e r s , he m u s t not have seen the gold h i m s e l f and
m u s t not r e a l l y know it is there. If he knew of the gold
and of D e a t h ' s w a i t i n g under the t r e e , he w o u l d l o g i c a l l y 37
have stayed t h e r e r a t h e r than go on. The only reason
that the old man sent .the three r e v e l l e r s to the oak was
3 5 I b i d . , p. 51. 3 6 I b i d .
3 7 1 bid.
71
that he wanted to be rid of them and be on his way after
they had threatened him:
Thou partest nat so lightly, by Seint John! Thou spak right now of thi'lke traytour Deeth That in this contree alle oure freendes sleeth Have heer my trouthe, as thou art his espye, Telle where he is, or thou shalt it abye, By God, and by the hooly s acrement! For soothly thou art oon of his assent To sleen us yonge folk, thou false theef! (lines 752-759).
There is a theory which accounts for the old man's not
staying with the gold to find his death; greed causes death,
not actually the gold, and the old man has no longer any feelings q o
of greed. If the old man literally seeks death, why should
he fear the threats of the young men and send them on a useless
errand? Would he not more 1ogi cal1y submi t there and then and
find his long-sought-after rest? In the argument that the old
man is not Death personified, it is asserted that if the old
man is in any way allegorical, he knows the meaning of his
own words and consequently the dramatic irony and allegory 39
fail. It also points out the weakness of the irony in the
accusation that the old man is a spy of Death if he is intended
allegorically as t h a t . ^
Chaucer leaves unanswered many questions about the old
man: who he is; where he comes from; where he is going;
whose gold is beneath the tree; how it got there. All of
these points Chaucer has deliberately obscured; they are what 3 8 H a m i 1 ton, p. 572. 39tf. J. B. Owen, p. 52. 4 0 rb id .
72
have led scholars to call the old men mysterious.4"' He is seen
from the limited point of view of the three revellers, who con-
sider him totally unimportant. 4^ They notice only that he is
old, and they immediately forget him when they see the gold.
He is ironically of great importance to the three, since he
shows them exactly the place to find what they have sworn to
find.
Thi s macabre tale clearly shows a fascination with death
on the part of the teller of the tale, the' Pardoner. One
critic has said that the Pardoner and the old man are sym-
bolically the same, and that the Pardoner is representative of
vetus homo, or the "old man" of the flesh, as contrasted with
' rio V us' homo, or "new man" of the spirit, and that likewise the
old man in the tale is also representative of vetus homo and
appropriately directs the three young revellers up the crooked
w a y . ^ The three revellers find their own deaths by following
the advice of vetus homo, in the form of the old man, and not
that of the novus homo, who is in this tale represented by the 45
tavern boy, a symbolic opposite of the old man. He initiates
the search by the three for Death and the old man terminates a &
it. Further symbolism existing in the implied relationship
of the tavern boy and the old man is that both refer to their
mothers. One critic believes that the theory of the womb-tomb 4^Ibi d. , p. 50. 42ibid., p. 49.
4 3 D a v i d , p. 42. 4 4 M i l l e r , p. 197.
4 5 I b i d . 46-r0dd, p. 35.
73
cycle is implied here, that is, that the mother is the first
world of the child and the last world of the a d u l t . 4 7 He
believes this implication can be found in the text: "And on
the ground, which is my moodres gate, / I knokke with my scaf,
bothe erly' and late" (lines 729-730). The words "erly" and
"late" are the key, corresponding to the womb-tomb theory.
However the old man may be interpreted, he is connected
either directly or indirectly with death. As some critics
point out, his pointing the way to the oak tree is specifically
symbolic of his connection with death. In some folktales
there is the belief that Death is excluded from sacred groves;
therefore, the old man, representing Death, can only direct
the three revellers there, but he can not go there himself.
This theory, however, ignores the fact that the old man has
just been in that grove;' he says to the revellers, "For in
that grove I lafte hym, by my fey" (line 762).
The single oak tree itself is sacred to all Aryan nations
in Europe as "the tree of the dead and the abode of the departed
s p i r i t s . " T h e r e was a ceremonial ritual performed in various
parts of Europe in connection with the coming of spring in
which.an effigy of Death was buried u n d e r an oak tree so that
47ik-jd. 4 8 B a r a k a t , p. 212.
. . 4 9 I b i d . , as .quoted, from. Maria Leach, editor, 'Dictions of Folklore , Mythology and 'Legend. (New York, 1950), II, 806.
74
he would depart from the p e o p l e . ^ That ceremony established
an association between the oak tree and death. In other folk
legends the oak tree symboli zes death by its association with C I
the cross, the gallows, and the stake. According to one
scholar, there is a parallel between the "ook" of The Pardoner's
Tale and the tree bearing forbidden fruit in the Garden of
Eden. Both trees change from being life-giving plants to
sources of everlasting death, both as a result of sin committed
at their b a s e s . ^ The "ook" symbolizes cu'piditas , for it is
the tree of evil or of death, at whose roots the three revellers
find earthly treasure, not the treasure of Heaven for which 53
they should have been seeking.
The symbolic advice of the old man to the three revellers
enables them to fi nd Death, but not to si ay Death as they had
vowed. The symbolism in his words is explained by one scholar
who believes the "croked wey" is symbolic because of its being
the opposite of the straight and narrow; the words "in that
grove" really mean in that false paradise of cupidity; and
"under a tree" is symbolic because that is where Adam and Eve
first found Death .
In another interpretation of the Pardoner's story, the
gold florins found at the base of the oak are the symbolic ^ F r e d e r i c k H. Candelaria, "Chaucer's 'Fowle Ok' and The
Pardoner' s Tale," Modern Language Notes, LXXI (.May, 1956), 321.
^ T o d d , p. 38. 52Ib±d.-
5 3Mi H e r , p. 1 96. 5 4Ibid.
75
fruit of the great Mother Earth as is the wine which poisons 5 5
two of the revellers. Thus, if the "mother" about whom
the old man speaks is Mother Earth, she has brought death to
the three by her fruits.
The deaths of the three are foreshadowed by the line,
"No 1enger thanne after Deeth they sought" (line 772), which
appears in the tale after they find the gold and forget their
•vow to slay Death. They need no longer seek Death; though
they do not realize it, they have found him. Although the
old man directs them to where he says Death is waiting, the
gold they find there is not itself Death; Death lies in the
a-varice of men. One specific form of avarice is pointed out
which might be significant, though it would be difficult to
decide if Chaucer intended the implication. Since the laws of
that day allowed that "treasure" belonged not to the finder,
but to the king, the revellers, in their plan to use the gold S7
themselves, also committed thievery. The Pardoner's Tale is not only a tale about physical
life and death, but also about spiritual life and death in C Q
the Christian sense, The three revellers are physically
but not spiritually young, and they represent what has already
5 5 T o d d , p. 38. r £*
. Charles A. Owen, Jr., "The Crucial Passages in Five of the Canterbury Tales: A Study in Irony and Symbol," J E G P , III (July, 1953} P 304.
57 Joel Roach, "Treasure Trove in The Pardoner's Tale,"
JEGP , LXIV (January, 1965), 1. 5^David, p. 41.
76
been called the yetus homo or old man, the man of sin not 59
yet reborn in Christ. Their spiritual blindness prevents
their recognizing Death when they find it under the oak. They
do not notice that they break the oath of brotherhood and become
full of g r e e d . T h e contrast between the quest of Death
personified and what the three find, actual physical death,
emphasizes the spiritual death which the revellers suffer
when they allow greed to overcome them. "Physical death
conies to all; but spiritual death is the root of all evil."®''
The quest of the three to slay Death is not entirely meaningless;
in Christian belief, the virtuous man should slay Death, which
is the inheritance of the vetus homo, or the old man of f l e s h . ^
The Pardoner's Tale has many strong examples of dramatic
irony which develop the theme of Death. Since dramatic irony
requires that a character not recognize the full impact of
what he says or does, the eagerness with which death is sought
by the revellers is in perfect contrast with the ease with
which it is f o u n d . C o n c e r n i n g the old man, there is
dramatic irony in his haste to be on his way in search of
Death, a haste which leads him away from his goal. This
irony is existent only if the old man is considered literally. 6 4
The-.dramatic-irony of the old man's si tuation is intensified 5 9Mi1ler , p. 195. 6 0Ibid., p. 196. 6 1 Ibid. 6 2lbid. , p. 194. 6 3 R o o t , p. 227. 6 4 W . 0. B. Owen, p. 52,
7 7
by hi s portrayal as having outlived all ordinary human desires
and weaknesses , including the vice most characteristic of old f h
age, the love of money.
Death is allegorized in several possible ways in The
Pardoner's Tale, but the theme of the Dance of Death is most
clearly seen if the old man is considered a personification of
Death. It is obvious that he fits rather neatly into the char-
acterization of the shrouded figure in the early depictions of
the Dance of Death. He does not in any way deliver a summons,
but he does lead the revel 1ers to their deaths. The character-
istic moral idea that all mortals must eventually meet Death
is carried out through the personification of Death in the minds
of the three young men. The idea is carried farther to point
out that Death is in different forms for different individuals,
from the plague to avarice.
The use of three young men by Chaucer may have been
related to the Troi s Vi fs of the Dance of Death motif. They,
however, fail to see that the gold under the tree is actually
themselves dead, or their deaths.
As a tale of Death, The Pardoner's Tale is perhaps both
symbolic and literal, for Death is presented on many levels and
in many ways. Chaucer artistically di splays all of these symbols
of Death against a background of literal death resulting from
the universally recognized horror, the Bubonic plague. All of
these images combine to make an intensely macabre tale.
^ H a m i l t o n , p. 512.
CHAPTER V
CONCLUSION
A stucly of the personification of Death in later Middle
English literature makes some conclusions clear. Not only did
the preoccupation with ever-present death lead to its thematic
use in 1i terature, but its frequent use in literature must surely
have nurtured that preoccupation. Although the death theme
itself doubtless 1ost some of its impact in repetition, causing
a shift of attention to the physical changes undergone by the
body after death, the universal inevitability of death kept it
A foremost fear.
When death became personified, some fairly constant trends
were developed, the character Death himself being one example.
In The Dance of Death, Everyman, Castle of Perseverance, and
The Pardoner's Tale, Death appears with various personalities,
but he is always a messenger.
The Dance of Death is the basis for the development of
the character Death. Although portrayed in various ways in
various depictions, he is basically a partially shrouded
figure, usually a skeleton, carrying a spear, who delivers his
summons to everyone. He appears at times sympathetic, at times
vengeful , but always unrelenting.
In the moral plays, personified Death is once again a
messenger or the deliverer of a summons. In Everyman Death
is a c om passionate but firm messenger from God. In The Cast! e
78
79
of Perseverance he is mocking and sarcastic, as though on an
errand for the Devil, but he is nevertheless a messenger.
In The Pardoner's Tale the character of Death is not
so clear-cut. First introduced through the conversation
concerning, his recent ravages, he is characterized as a
vengeful thief. Further in the tale the three revellers
come upon an old man whom they assume to be Death because
of his appearance: he is old, dressed in a shroud, and
going about the countryside. He delivers what may be con-
sidered a message when he directs the three to the gold and
to their deaths.
Besides the character Death himself, there is another
aspect of the personification which is always developed even
more obviously. That is the idea of Death's ultimate power
oyer all men. This idea, is fully developed in The Dance of
Death, in which all social levels are portrayed, from Pope
to Hermit. In the morality plays all levels of society are
represented in the single characters of Everyman and Mankind,
both pf whom represent all men.
In The Pardoner 1 s Tale Death's summons is more subtle and
the tale is more complex, but it is still present. In the
ta-vern boy's warning there is the threat of death even for
three men still in their youth. The medieval idea that no
one is safe underlies the general theme of pestilence arid
mortality in this tale.
80
O n e f u r t h e r d e v e ] opnient of D e a t h ' s p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n , one
s e e n in all the w o r k s s t u d i e d h e r e , is the m o t i f of the p r o -
c e s s i o n f o l l o w i n g D e a t h or m o v i n g t o w a r d D e a t h . T h e b a s i c
t h e m e is a g a i n T h e D a n c e of D e a t h , in w h i c h a d a n c i n g D e a t h
l e a d s a p r o c e s s i o n of u n w i l l i n g i n d i v i d u a l s to t h e i r i n e v i t a b l e
e n d s , a m o t i f a l s o a p p a r e n t in the m o r a l i t y p l a y s s t u d i e d .
E v e r y m a n is m a k i n g a j o u r n e y to the g r a v e , but it is a
p r o c e s s i o n o n l y in the s e n s e that he is o b e y i n g the u n a v o i d a b l e
call to f o l l o w D e a t h and is a c c o m p a n i e d by a d e c r e a s i n g h o s t
pf f o l l o w e r s . M a n k i n d ' s p r o c e s s i o n is m o m e n t a r i l y d e l a y e d
s e v e r a l t i m e s , but it l e a d s e v e r to the i n e s c a p a b l e c o n c l u s i o n .
A p r o c e s s i o n is b e g u n in T h e P a r d o n e r ' s T a l e w h e n the
t h r e e r e v e l l e r s l e a v e the t a v e r n in t h e i r s e a r c h f o r D e a t h .
T h e y p r o c e e d s t r a i g h t to w h a t they s e e k , a l t h o u g h e n r o u t e
t h e y f o r g e t w h a t t h e y are s e e k i n g . T h e c o n c e p t of D e a t h
w h i c h t h e y c a r r y in t h e i r mi rids is. the l e a d e r in t h e i r p r o -
c e s s i o n . T h u s , the p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n of D e a t h in l a t e r M i d d l e
E n g l i s h l i t e r a t u r e f o l l o w s a c l e a r l y t r a c e a b l e p a t t e r n , w h i c h
has its s o u r c e in s e v e r a l c o n t i n e n t a l v e r s i o n s of T h e D a n c e
sof D e a t h .
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