"THERFORE THY BOKE OF COUNTE I,J ITH THE THOU BRYNGE":
A RE-EXAt11NAT10N OF THE t10RALIT1ES
An Honors Thesis (1D 499)
by
Lisa A. t10r r i s
for·
Ball State University
t1uncie, Indiana
Apr i 1 1989
for graduation from the Honors College May 1989
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION
HISTORY
4
CHARACTERI ZATI ON
8
t1anK i nd
I..) ice
Virtue
Death
God
STAGING
Costuming
Proper- ties
t1us i c
Gestures
Scenic Practices
9
12
13
16
18
19
20
20
21
22
22
INTENT
24
CONCLUSION
27
APPENDIX I
2S'
APPENDIX I I
32
BIBLIOGRAPHY
33
the
"When compared wi th
achievements
of
Renaissance
drama in which the supposed evolutionary process was said to
have
to
every form of medieval drama has been found
culmjnated~
be
different
and not only markedly different from
to
infer'ior
(T.::"ylor'
them"
3).
c r' i tic ':;, the' r' eli g i ou s dr' ama
technique
dra,ma tic
or
,;:tf
the
as
drama
the
dramatic
only
Middle
purpose,
of which it
toe x c e l i n in':;:, tan c e s
yet
it
0
far
"had
ha-=:,
Conver':,e 1 y,
dramatic form
is a part.
f c om i c but not
0
f
no
and no a,r't i st i c
been
because of its roots in ritual
been denied acceptance as a full
r' i t u a 1
but
Ages
dr-am.:.,
commonly accepted birthplace of theater.
r' eli g i ou -=:'
progeny
According to many modern
self-consciousness" (Taylor 4).
viewed
i ~::e them,
from its offspring rather than
due
the
it ha':,
to
the
"It has been said
tragic
ar't,
and
has been taken as serious in intent and without any
aim to amuse"
(Taylor 5).
art
And
i r' on i c
,;:0.
1 1 Y,
it-=:,
as art,
it has been denied examin,::"tion" a,s such (TaT"lor' 5).
y
not
most
"since
\..~I.:O'-:'
all egedl
perhaps
intended to be thought of
It is this narrow interpretation of drama that I refute
in this paper'.
colorflJI
a,nd
"The
~.Iar'
centuries to which
and
the
devil
i ed,
thea ter'
as
of
full
it belongs.
the
Middle
Ages
is
=--=
--"-'
of 1 ife and contrast as the
It holds discourse with
God
bui lds its paradise upon four plain posts,
and moves the whole
universe
wi th
a
It amazes me that cri tics can consistently dismiss
228) •
the plays and their characters as "bloodless
as
~.e
<Ber·thol d
windlass"
abstractions~"
if they were nothing more than a series of dreary Sunday
Perhaps in the plays the Virtues
r'mon -=:..
and
moral
Vices who
dr inK i n g,
but
izing~
often
.:~n
stagger
onto
they
often
meeK
could one so readi ly dismiss the
are
l.:..ughing,
stage
d f ':'.r· tin g, 'A,h i 1 e all
Surely
1'"1an 1<: i n d'?
how
are
-=:.hout i ng,
the time sc h em in g to ambu sh
portrayed
as red-blooded and
robust, hardly "bloodless abstractions."
Per'haps
partially
the
at
t e r·m
fault.
and convictions that
instinctively
"r"lcor' .:0. 1 it)'"
in
that
mayor
resent
this
of
j -;:.
r"lorality implies a set of conventions
the
may
beha~.1
not
i ora I
moral
"classroom"
theater, a place where we feel
we
be
our
own.
We
instruction the word
" m0 r' a 1 j t y " imp 1 i e ,:., and t h .:.. t r' e -=:. e n t men t
f.:o.c t
and
i ,:. am p 1 i fie d by
the
is contained within the
should
be
entertained.
The outlook for these plays becomes even worse when the word
" .:0.
i ,:. t h r' o . . . 'n i n tot h e rna t t e r .
lIe gcor' i Cd. 1 "
suggested that to avoid such
call ed
stigma
in ter·l ude,:.,"
"mor' a 1
cor'
audiences, just "interludes."
t e r'm i no 1 og;v' ,
for'
the
per·hap,:.,
Some cri tics have
plays
should
be
in or'der' to dr'aw
But I question the change
in
the de 1 i n eat i on be tt.·.'e e nth e t e r·m-=:. i -=:. h az ::r"
at bes t .
Despite the pejorative nature of the term,
its advantages.
it does have
The term "Moral ity" forces us to accept the
2
claim
thE?
UI,:d
play,:,
instructioral motive or
moral ize.
They
do
are
not
outdated,
They are
dreary
much
sermonize.
farces
these
Indeed,
than
Despite this,
these
"simpl e
fossi I i zed
of
without plot, wi thout character,
a I mc.s t
(,." i thou t
~)
a 1u e
pap e r •
intent.
of the
hope
to
are
... ,
drama,
con f I i c t ,
i ':' the I i f e
trace
wi thin
To do t hi,:, lin ten d to emp I o:~' a, br- i E? f hi,:, t c.r' :~. ,
the n s e gm e r t s de ,3, lin 9
and
do
orations.
modern
i ':, hi,:, t or i c a I" (T ,:.,y lor' 7). I t
and the vigor of these plays that
t hi,:,
plays
te~d(s]
amoeba
on 1 )'
wi th no
plays
unbearably dry, humorless and dull
more
to
They do try to dirE?ct their
undifferentiated
wh c'':,e
I ittlE?
ight-hearted
value.
audiences toward salvation.
in ten t i on
It is not m::.'
plays for what they really are.
l~.1
i t h for' m, c h a r' act e r' i z ,3 t ion ,
staging,
From there I wi I I end wi th a brief discussion
impact of these plays upon later dramatic
Ii ter'a,ture
and the distinctive mark they left upon world theatE?r.
It seems theater and ritual have always traveled hand in
Theater
hand.
ear·ly r·el
the origins of theater to
tie
and r·itual i-=:.tic pr·actice-=:.
i~dou-=:.
v.Ji thin
pr·imi
From there Western theater rose until
soc i e tie·:. •
its.
historians
he i gh t
whi Ie ri tu.=d
in Rome
in the fourth century A.D.
br·ou(~Jht
theater
intc. the ',<Jor·ld,
was
the
Both
church.
that
time
the Church and
invading conquerors served to extinguish the theater.
last
defirite record of a performance in Rome
The
is found in a
let t e r· (>.Jr· itt e n i n
Al though
continued
it does not seem to have survived
on
after that,
the Lombard invasion in 568.
been
the
final
theater
invasion
may
seems
blow which pushed the theater bacK
"obscurity out of which
ea.r·1 i er· n <BrocKett 84).
persecu t i c.r,
That
the
~
it also r·emot.!ed
The theater's major source of opposition at
Christian
it reached
I r· on i c a I 1 y
it.
rising
ti~!e
helped
have
to
have
into the
it had slowly emerged some 900 years
Oddl ::-' enough,
break
down
the
af ter·
Church···s
organized theater,
it also
helped to rebuild it.
Theater· had it-=:. r·ebi r·th
parts
in
the
Chur·ch i -=:
were distributed among "actors"
the point of the Scripture.
It
~"I':'. -=:·n
.:..nd e'·.!en (.<Jhen it did,
4
it
' tun til
wa~·
~
in order to reinforce
the I ate
Ages (c. 1300-1500) that drama began to emerge
church,
1 i tur·gy
~'1
i dd I e
ou t side
the
still hi.;thlY religiou-:.
in nature.
The majority of these extant medieval
drama. t i za. t ions
of
B i bl i cal e'Jen ts.
plays
are
The dr.:'i.ma of th i s time
found its roots in the re-enactment of the Resurrection,
e'·)en t
to
cen tr'a I
the
development
of Christianity.
in
there writers of the time reached back
Creation
and
history
evolved.
At nearly
time, a smaller body of plays was evolving.
k n c'I.··m t 0 d a}' a =. " m0 r' a lit y p I a :;00' .::.•
to
moral i ty
play,
the
the
grew
the
and
same
These plays are
"
secular
form closest to the
cycle plays, first appeared in the late fourteenth
It
From
forward to Armageddon, and the mystery cycles
tracing al I of human history
The
an
century.
flourished along wi th the miracle and mystery
plays durirg the fifteenth century and shared much with them
in the
wa)'
of
staging,
characterization
and
structure.
un like
new genr'e, having no precedent in the e·:'i.r·lier· church
drama.
Perhaps because it was not as firmly rooted in the church it
was
more adaptable to "new ideologies and social condi tions
during the sixteenth century than ... other kinds of
drama,
and thus survived to become a formative
the Renaissance drama while the
found
themse 1 l)eS
cycles
i ncreas i ngl >'
and
under'
medieval
influence on
saints'
.:<.tt.ack
by
the
Reformation Church" (Bevington, Drama 791).
Like
"Chr' i =.t i .:..n,
the
cycle
plays,
the
an 0 n ym 0 u s., and " pop u I a r' ,"
be performed for the general
mor' a lit :;00'
1.~:YS
are
I,. . r' itt e n i n E rll;t Ii:. h t c,
population"
co
~,
p
(Potter 6).
tv lora I
personifications
such
as
Death
and the seven Deadly Sins
.abound not on 1::.- in the all egor' i ca 1 mc,r'a 1 i ty play-=:o bu tin the
N Town pageants and the
,Ju-:.t i ce,
Truth,
moral
j
saint's
r'1er'c)-',
and
play
Peace
of
Mary
a r' e
Magdalene.
in
f eat u r' e d
the
ty play The Castle of Perseverance, but also appear
the N Tow n p age .~. n ton the par' 1 i am e n t
but
virtually
f
(Be I..' i ngton ,
h e a I.! e n
Usually comical Vice figures appear
Drama 791).
plays
0
ar'e not ] i m i ted to them.
every
< Be\! i ngton,
other
Dr' am a
form
of
.Just
7'7' 1 ) •
in moral i ty
IJ ice f i gur·e-:. appear'
medieval
like
as
dr' ·3.m.".
music,
col or'fu 1
They
co:. t um i n g ,
Also,
forms of drama take place "on earth in the midst of an
arena th.". t encompa.sses hea.\!en a.nd
pro i mar',"
The
other
a:.pect.
(Bevington,
he 11 "
di ffer'ence
"Wher'e
the
the
cycles
drama
take
fulfillin';) the totality of huma.n histor:y
cr'ucial
r'hythms,
the
(Pot ter'
,!,).
history
the i r'
2t.nd
on
for'm
defining
an,'
in
its
of
ife
of
the
i nd i v i dual
The mc,r'a 1 it>·· P 1 ·a::.·· te 11,;;, the stc,r'y
of a representative individual
collective
than
moral i ty play takes its shape from a
different figure and pattern--the
be i ng"
Drama
the
concentrates more on the focus of
human
1
the cycle plays the
large crowd scenes, and other features of the cycles.
both
in
1,<Je]
moral ity plays make use of mansion and platea staging.
also incorporate
in
all
play is usual]y named Mankind,
Christian
rather
than
the
men.
or
another
name
evoking
his
Both types of plays,
relationship to all men.
mClr'al and cyel ieal, -=:.eek tel invoh!e the audience member'-=:,
the
dramatic
to provide opportuni ties for them to
action,
"identify
with the characters of the play
may
fully
more
so
The
103).
i n d i '. . i du ali z i n 9
his tor' i cal
plays
c:;.'c 1 i cal
characters,
do
this
whereas
by
the moral
in ter·l udes -;:.tr· i ~}e to un i l,.Ier·-;:..:..l i ze the i r' chara.c ter-:.
O(ahr·l
[they]
that
the nature of the doctrinal message
grasp
pur")eyed" (I<ahr'l
as possible
in
full
:.-:
-'
~,
y
in order to reach every member of their audience
103).
It
i-:. thi-:. str·i'.)ing fClr' uni'Jer·-;:.al i ty that lead-:. to the
use of abstraction-:· and gener·al ized n·:..mes in the play·:;.
mentioned
befor'e,
·:.ome
cri tics
all egor' i ca.l drama call i ng the
ab-:. t r ac t i Clr, -:. ,
today
pl ays,
downgrade
"drama
of
As
t hi·:.
bloodless
of sti lted characterizations, and thus indeed
ani n fer' i 0 r mod e
0
f d r O.m a " <I( a h r' 1 1 0 4).
ace e p tin g ,:. u c h a.
-:.~. . e
Yet be for e
e- pin g g e- n e- r' ali z a t ion
0
r' e ad i 1 y
n e- mu -:. t not e- t hat :
Recen t
rei.) i val s. • • ha~)e rem i nded us, if '. . . e '. . . ere
prone to forget, that whe-ne-ver the- play was acted,
the characters, instead of be-ing dreary types and
ab-:.tr·a.ction-;:., (.\Ier·e a.t once
indil,!idualize-d a,nd
humanized; and the same transformation once
tooK
placein
the case
of eve-ry one- of the other
Moral ities which are now so hastily Judged on
the
basis clf the- pr'inted CCIP~'" (Kahr'l 104).
It
see~T1s
the \)iew that the mor'alities are dully a.llegor·ical
persists because- the plays
acquaintance
only,
pr'clduc t i on .
"Whe-n
speakers"
are
i n·:.tead
one-
re-ads
discusse-d
of
from
such
from
a
reading
fa.m i 1 i ar' i ty'
1..0,1
i th
plaYs,
names down the le-ft margin of the- page- inexorably
7
insists on the allegory through repetition of such names
"'Jor·ld, F'r'ide, cor' Gocllj Angel"
(I<ahr'l
1(4).
ir, productic1n this r'epetition does neat clccur·.
On
Genus,'
~Humanum
HmA.le',.ler·,
stage the actors are
first
a~
infrequently called by name after their
in
except
appe'ara.nce
context of the dialogue.
l.c.I i
1.·<Ja.y·s
th
lh i ch are natur.?-.l
in the
l....
this
in
mind,
i t
be come'S·
to disasseaciate the rigidity eaf the written allegeary
easier'
from the animated actiean of the play.
Characterization is at the very
in
the
e x am i n i rll;l
heart
characters
of
dra.ma,
and
medieval drama one
"should be careful
tea rid (oneself] eaf purely modern notions
of the nature and
function
[One]
cleased,
i ya,j i rna.
eaf
moralities.
l.A.lay "r'ea 1"
not
me t h cld i C a I 1 y
This
96) .
d i 'S·C uS'S. i on
are
characterizatiean.
s h 0 LId e q u .:0. I I y a v 0 i d. . . II his tor' i c a I p 0 sit i I.) i sm" IAI h i c h ,
wi th eyes
(t'1
dr·.ama tic
of
the
The
II
is
clb 1 i t e r' a. t e':·
especially
r' e ali 'S.m"
of
charac ter's ar'e
'S.IJ b,j e c t
relevant
characters
to
"r'ea I
be
"r'e a I "
II
The:)"
in
lack
These
the
in
within
notion that these characters are
i nd i ~.I i dual'S. mu'S.t be ·:.hunned.
mean t
it'S.
any
the
in seame
cha.r·ac ter":.
sense that
Ibsen~s
ps:;,'chol og i ca I
depth.
" the sec h a r act e r' s h.a \,.1 e the i r' m. . 1n " r' e a I i sm ,., but
is inevitably of a different sort" (Miya,jima 96).
Each char'acter
in
the moralities
is
clea.rl:Y·
identified,
without
any
ambiQuity
as a
ster'eot::,1ped be i ng or' an abstr'act qual i t:>/.
Often
the character a.nnc.unce'S· him'S.elf e::<pl ici tly and in
concrete terms.
It is by adding the dimensiean
of
or·d ina r y I i f e
t o t h e per 'S·c.n i f i cat i on s
an d bv
another factor (that of the pre-conception of
the
character' in the ·:.pectator·····:. mind) that the Cl.uthor·
8
II
it
of
the
rT"JCIr'a 1 i b'"
enr' i che-:;.
his
char·",.c ter' i za t i on
(fv1 i :,' .~..j i ma 96).
Thu-:;.,
in clr·der· to
char- .~_C t e r' s ,
one
pr'o',!ide
an
tr'Y'
must
.accur·ate
to
mediet)a1
them
see
In
audience would have viewed them.
account
the
pr-esented
the a. t e r' - goe r-
as
of
the medi
e~!"'.l
mor-a 1 it i e':·
with
five
the
major-
char-acter- types; HumanKind, Vice, Vir-tue, Death, and God.
Al though
un i 'Jer·-:;.e ,
God
"the
was
the
at
Jog i c a.l
center'
of
pr-otagonist of the mor-al
man--never- spir-itua1ly per-fect or- saintly
man--p1aced
in
between good and
fr'eedom
that
choice
of
mor'al
shapes
"man" char-acter- car-r-ies
which
is
emphasized
pI aywr- i gh t-:..
humani ty
by
char-acter"
it
a
most
of
the
of men.
is the play Ever-yman.
r-eason
of
its
(Far-nham 177).
The
r-emar-kable
dual it:,',
medie',!al
mor- ali t >'
often
fr·om
a
man,
The example i1lustr-ating this
Thr-oughout this play the author-
emphasizes the ambiguity of the characterswi tching
simp 1 y
of str-esses and str-ains
wi thin
bv
dr-ama was
bu t
man,
This "man" char-acter- is a man, simply
but also "simply" all
bes.t
wor-ld
wher-e
evil
med i e~·la 1
the
the
sin gu 1 ar'
to
" E~! e r' y'm an. "
the
pI ur'a I ,
the
i n d i t) i du all
and
gener-a.lly.
The se
SI.·'.1
i
t che s
;Of
in number ar-e emphasized
below in God's fir-st speech:
Euer-y.!lliill.. I yueth s·o after' his mvne pI easur-e,
And )'e t clf theYT I ;-"'fe 1.b.ll be nClthynge ·:·ur·e.
I -:;·e the mor-e that I them for'ber-e
The v-.Ior--:;·e the/" be fr'o yer'e to yer·e.
All that 1 ~. . ueth appa>'r-eth f.~.ste;
ThE-r·fc,r·e I v.Jyll , in a.l the ha-:;.te,
Haue a r-ekenynge of euer-y mannes per-sone;
For, and I leue the people thus alone
In theyr lyfe .and I..\»·'cked tempestes,
I.•) e r y 1 y.
the %" 1,0.) ill be c om e mCo C hew CI r set han bee s t e s ,
For· n CIIAI on e wc11 de by en u /. an 0 the r· I.) pet e j
Char::de they do all clene forgete.
I h Clp e d VJe I 1 t hat e u e r· y man
I n my g1or·y shol de mak:e his mans~~·on,
And tt-;er·to I had them all el ecte...
0: 11. 40-54)
When God
summons
Everyman
~e
Death
and
orders
i nth e p 1 u r
·90
l.
to a lesser extent throughout the
It
serves
collective fates.
to
nature manifests itself in
of
being.
play,
emphasize
of
Man
'( e
B.nd
our
f c. r·
in d i vi du a 1
embodies
ethere.:..l
f r· om
and
another
Th i s b i par tit e
placement
in
the
great
inhabits the midpoint on this chain,
the summit of the lower order of being and the base
higher·
with
t (.'..Ih e n De a t h
i -:.
bod:;.-· an d sou I.
man's
return
T his am big u it·:,·· con tin u e s
The "Man" character
t hat
chain
to
speaks of him in the singular.
r· e p lie -:., h e doe s s 0
accident.:..l.
him
or· der· •
His
necessi tated by his body which
placement
on
is "destined to
corruption of death, but his soul
of
the
the chain is
undergo
the
carne only at the moment of
his conception directly from God who created it and destined
it
for· eternal
frees man's soul
soul
flesh.
has
1 ife"
(l'"li::,..-.:..j ima 98).
Thus death of the body
to join the higher order, but only
if
the
been able to win out over the base desires of the
It is thi-:. fight beb.<Jeen bod>' and soul
that
i-:. clften
presented in these plays. The play Wisdom attacks this motif
in perhaps
the
most
char·ac ters
for·
body and
ar·e
obvious
'::.OIJ
1.
pre-:.en ted
way,
bv
offering
In this case the characters
embod i e-:·
10
separate
the
pur·!?
~·ou
1 , i n tel 1 e c t ,
r·ec«.~·on
and
,
represents the soul which
the
rat ion a l.
con~·c
and
i ence;
the
is torn between
The tvJ 0 par'
t~.
Anima,
who
sensua 1
.:<.nd
CI fAn i ma a r' e':· ::im b cd i zed b)/ her'
whi te dress covered by a black mantle.
However',
na.ture,
the
de~.pite
acKnowledgment
of
man's
dual
is held highly accountable for his own actions.
he
No faul t can be blamed entirely upon the body, for the
must
be
a.
pa.rt
of
all
.:<.ct ions as 1,.Jell.
in
ultimate arbiter of action, and
complete
free
will.
the
he
decides his fate.
the
struggle
audience
saw
pla.::.'
it
choice
not
merely
psychomachia,
for the soul of the protagonist conducted by rival
(I{ahrl
their
weaKnesses.
choice
accor'ded
is by his own
these
In~tead,
are
to tluniversal ize the patterns of moral
on
is the
It is impor·tant tCI r'eal ize that
was
armies of good and evil.
I ife tl
is
1
the Virtues and Vices may
Al though
fight for possession of man's soul
that
The soul
~.ou
The
110).
powers
of
de':.igned to
for'ce~.
persuasion
plays
which
choice in man/s
de~.tr·o::,'
man
r'e]';.'·
and trickery and on man's
They can push man toward a
itself belongs to the man alone.
decision,
bu t
the
This is apparent
in
the epilogue by Mercy at the end of ManKind:
Ye may both save and spill yowr sowle,
that is so precius;
'L i ber'e well e, 1 i bere noll e'" God ma.:)··
nClt den::.', i lJ. 1 i ~. ( 1 1. B$';::-4).
This
tran·:lates as,
")'OU
or damnation; God may not
f r eel y
n CI t to c h 00 s e,
ha.ve free v. lill
deny
t r u 1 y"
.::
11
you
to choose salt)ation
freely
to
choose
8 e t,J i n g ton, Dr' am a '7':3 7::'.
or
The s e
plays then, are studies in the choices
oppor' tun it;.'
recur'ren t
tc.
in
fall,
made
"the
men,
by
which man
is no inert
battlefield over which the forces of good and evil march but
a being wi th free wi 1 1
right
the
choose
death" O(ahr·l
created
God
by
whose
chances
to
road to salvation end with the coming of
1(6).
tv 1an·':. fr'ee (.,Ii II
i:. hi:. as:.et
in
these
Although his poor choices lead him to the brink of
pI a>'s.
i :.
damnation, he
acutel~...
a . .·Jar· e c.f the fact the the choice of
salvation (AlaS a 1 ~<Ja:ys possible and could be made up un til
the
time c.f de ... t h .
man . ' .:.
In :·ome ("'Jay:· the focus on
detract
from
the
play
would
(.',1
i t h c.u t them,
disappear,
:.hell of.:co :.aint·'s play.
cruc i 21.1
the
This play begins
pI a.Y.
J.....lor I d,
the
Flesh,
Mankind's fate
()ice:..
ill
se em':·
t c.
and
the
c e n t r .:..1
conflict
leaving nothing behind but the
In The Castle of Perseverance
duty
the
of setting the mood for the
with
the
of
three
vice
De . . • iI,
on
characters,
stage
the
discussing
in much the same way Shakespeare's witches do
in a later period.
the
(-<.I
importance of the Vice characters within
the mor' ali tie:., bu t
the
fr'ee
But a man's fate wasn't entirely
up
to
Since salvation was always possible, the main
task of the Vices was not only to pull man down, but to keep
him down until Death could arrive.
persuasive
Ar·med on 1 y
powers and means for trickery,
to lead man astray.
"Mo:.t of
temp ter' s
only
are
not
the
mascul ine
.-.
1 ..:::..
Deadly
but
(.\1
i th
their
the vices attempt
Sins
and
aggressively
other
so,
boisterous, arr'ogant,
lClud"
camaraderie usually entices Man to join them.
usually
t 0 ken ,:.
0
"opulent
in
presented
The i r'
(Bevington, Castle 161).
f ext r' ·a~) a g ant I u:x: u r' y
They are also
jewels, and other
finery,
(B e v i n g ton, Ca-=:. tIe 1 6 [I).
"
Th e :).
promise Man a multitude of wealth, wi t, and women, and chide
him
for
c om i c .::0. 1
his
0
f
naivete.
In the the play Mankind,
the m0 r a. 1 i tie s,
the i r ,:. h"l i sh c lot h e s ,
Mankind
for
Falstaff
his
and
e·:.t
j
piety
his
the
I)
ice s a r' e
.:o.bout
and
of
in
ma.n >.,
i).
These
transgressions and foibles.
known
form
of
,Ior·k.
Like
the /.
ar'e
of churches"
characters
provided
Their
into lau9hin9 at their own
characters
for their rapport with the audience.
They serve
of Lucifer
fact that he
them
at
vice
to involve the audience
the
jeer'
the centr·.al entertainment.
V.Ja.ys
raucous ways cajoled the audience
are
h 0 f 1 au n t
1....
da t e ,
despoilers
vice
I..V
and
to h.ar·d
1 ate r'
and
(Bev i n9ton, t1acr'0 :x: i
r' 01.....1die s
hangin9,
devotion
companions
hi9hwaymen,
II
the most
In fact,
in the play.
the
A
vice
plan-=:.
f i gu rei s Tit i \. i I Ius.
1
audience while he
in
in Wisdom shares with the audience the
is not the gallant he seems to
hi-=:.
character
(1.
324) .
be,
and
te 1 1·:.
In Mankind the major vice
In the play he remains visible to the
is invisible to Mankind.
Ti tivi llus' cronies lead the audience
in
I nth e':· a.m e pIa :,.
singing
and
also
take up.a ccollection befor'\? the play's climax.
Just
as the vices could not force their ways upon Man,
neither can the virtues.
The seven virtues in
13
directly
"serves
')ir-tue
the
oppose
as
seven
a
Each -:::-er-mcln by -:;.
Deadly Sins.
remedium
the
for
lessons
of
the
appropriate vice, and together they bring ManKind to a state
in
which
he
can
(Sche 1 1 2:3::::).
the
I.)ice-;:-~
the Vices,
receive
God's
Not on 1 ~.-- do the i r- doc tr- i ne-:-
c i r-ec t 1 :~'
oppcl-:-e
their manners and costuming do as well.
Un1 ik:e
the Virtues who aid
Per-se'-}er-ance are
"10\}e1y
as
the
opposed
grace--if he perseveres"
to
in
Mank:ind
The
"robys rounde" and "grete
extravagant
-:;. -:- "-:- e \) e n e -:- i -:- t e r ~.' -;:-
-;:_~\I e
t e"
(1.
The::.'
"bicct-i:;"-:_"
should not be
-:-er-mon-:-
The
between the Vices and Virtues is heightened by the
Vices' description of the sisters as
and
a_roe
20 47 ) and -:;. r- e a 1 -:- 0
1764, 18(6),
refer-r-ed tCI a-:- "ma i d::.'ns" and "1 a_dys" (11
contrast
of
in 1a_ce" (1.2254:3), simp1:-;- dr-es-5ed
gounse" (11. 2072-73) of Pr- i de and hi -;:- cohclr- ts.
de -=- c r- i bed
Castle
<11.
seen
1728-31,
as
of the I.) i r- tues,
dull
"'--\Ienchys, "
1 :384).
didactic
1 i k:e the
i n t r u s ion sin t CI
2:3'7') ,
intr·icateL.'
inst.ead ar·e
:~--e
t,
the I..) i r- t u e s
characters.
"The
i nstr-uc t i cln-:- of the Dead1:-;-
Sin s, a_ r- e not h om i 1 e tic
but
An d
"mo derys,"
l;..lo~Jen
the
pl .... ::.' "
(Schell
into to the
p1a~.,···-:.
ac t i on •
Quite often, as is the case in psychomachia,
and Vices go against each other in one to one
The Castle of Perseverance an all out battle
Vices
c omb-~_ t .
In
is waged as the
attack: the Castle in which ManKind has sought refuge.
Wrath goes into battle intending to use
hoping
the Virtues
to pelt Patience
"~"Iith
14
his
cross-bow
and
stiffe ston:y·s" (11.2111-12).
Envy intends to
inflame
attack
Charity
while
hopes
to
The Virtues go into battle armed only
Abstinence.
with Scriptures, flowers and water.
is
Gluttony
This Christian
paradox
heightened b>' comic incongr'ui t::,t as· the c'I}er·tl::.·· mas.cul ine
!.)ices wince
received
in pain and humi 1 iation
from
such
passive
the
.~t
.IOunds they
weapons.
is.
A:·
moment
free
Mankind~s
wi 1 1
u-:.ua I the
.;:.. t
Ye t
Virtues, with their meeK way, win the battle.
cr'ucial
ha.',.le
1....
interferes
the
with his
salvation as he chooses to go away with Covetousness.
A Ion 9 the s. am e l i n e':;· as· the Iv' i r' t u e -:., but per' hap s·
higher
plane
These four characters appear
of the rrror·a.l it i es, but .:;'.r·e
scene
of
Justitia
et
each clther':
most
effect i vel:)I
used
II
1 i ter.:;..1 i zes the
~Misericordia
1..~le
in
Justice and Peace
The stage
1 i nes
1 1 -knQl..~ln
et Veritas obviaverunt sibi;
hal}e
k: i ss.ed·')
(Bevington,
II
In the scene Truth and Justice argue against
Mankind/s salvation,
defense.
In
the
while
end
Mercy
Mercy's
and
Peace
provide
According
into
at
his
to the stage directions for the play,
these daughters are dressed in colored cloaks
gr'ouping
his
arguments win God over to
Mankind's side, and God invi tes Mankind to join him
their
the
Pax osculatae sunt' ('Mercy and Truth have met
Castle
right.
a
in several
The Castle of Perseverance.
ac t i on dur i ng th i -:. scene
from Psalm 84.11,
n
the four daughters of God; Mercy, Truth,
are
Peace, and Justice.
eli mac tic
0
two
opposing pairs.
wear white and black while Truth and Justice
15
to
s.ymbc11 i ze
Mercy and Peace
wear
red
and
LiKe the
gr·een.
these daughters of God are unable
Virtues~
to maKe man change his ways.
1'"1er·cy
doe=.
been taKen
strictly
·:::.tr· i c t
(a=. a male)
a
accordance
man
and
chance
~
else has
a
ma.tter·
This theme runs in
the
theol og i c.:.. I
plays
be h .... een t"1an and his god.
a
role
a deathbed confession away.
moment of death.
Ii·!
i th
pauper, Knight or knave.
the
2t.=.
Because of
this~
his
Eternal salvation was only
What Man put odds
on
was
his
ittle regard toward salvation.
No
one
was safe, prince or
During
the
Middle
roared
across
discriminate.
dom ina. ted
this relationship
Yet Death himself paid little attention to
the odds and took I i \)es
didn't
in
1'"1an knel}.! tha. t he had up un til
moment of death to repent.
Death
as
period.
Howeve r'
very
his god.
the
IAii th
prod
Even when all
t···lan~~ind.
into consideration, salvation is sti I I
between
medieval
in
They can only gently
plague
Ages
Death
the countryside.
the personage of Death on stage would
send
a chill
through each member of a fifteenth century audience.
Theirs
wa=
an
in
manifests
age
the i r'
i tse If
preoccupied with death, and this comes
dr·ama.
mor'e
the
in the fact that the plays exist at
all
than in the char'acter'ization clf Death within the
In
fact~
in
only two of the Engl ish moral ities does Death
appear on stage; Everyman and
(M i Y·:d i rna.
pla>'=..
109).
As
a
The
Castle
of
Perseverance
whole the plays tend to emphasize
lurks
16
nearby
and
the wages of sin is indeed eternal damnation.
In
qu i te
'5
im i I ar
appear·ance
In
two
the
The
plays
(1'"1 i
)/Ci. .J
the characterizations of Death are
i rna
10':;0;..
In
mor· e r· e IJ e r· e d •
of
to
" If, f r· om the p CI i n t of dr· ama tic
in
Dea. th
t han
Death
.:..pp e c..r·"S.
at
(1·'1 i ::•.. a..i i ma.
imp ·:..c t,
has
left
the wi les of Covetousness.
the
in ter·ven t i en
plague.
( II.
2815-
the .:..p p e ·:..r a.n c e
beginning
i "S.
of
Ii mi ted,
In
10$') •
i mp r· e "S..::;. i
t)
e"
occurs at the moment when ManKind
least expects it, .Just after he
to
Knowe"
i t r· ern.:<. i n"S. n e 1,1 e r· the I e"S· .::;. qui t e
109).
succumbed
the
of
The Castle of Perseverance is less remarKable
i n EI.) e r· ym a. n,
(1'"1 i ya..i i 1Ti.8.
indeed the
the blacK death point to this (Miyajima 109).
"In the grete pestelens/Thanne was I weI
of
DeCi. th·'"S.
i"S. sl ightl)···
This le·:..d·::;. to the r·eal ization th.:..t
that
=.
ct'·liy·:...jima 109).
Per·se\)er·Ci.nce it seems death
play is from a period much closer to
16) •
C .;:t..:.€-
i·::;. "br·ief but ·::;killfull>' managed"
CCistle
Allusions
both
i t
t hi .=.
the
i·::.
c·:..·::·e
play
the
Ca"S.tle
.:..nd
In Everyman Death
and
cruci.:..l
"whi Ie
his
dr· ama tic a I I y"
manner·
i·::;.
·::.tra i gh tfor·'Alard and pr·.:..c t i cal.
His approach
to Everyman
is peremptory.
The
speech by 1..~lhil:h he
intr·oduces himself
j.=.
a
masterpiece of forceful concision.
He tells the
audience he is omnipresent and that he cruelly
pursues the great as well as the humble of the
earth
and
especially
the
rich
and
the
concupiscent.
He exploits Everyman's
initial
sur·pr· i se b:;·· reca.11 i ng God and gi 1,1 i ng Et..'er·::..-rn.:..n
pr·ec i"Se
i n"S.truc t i on
in .a I mo·::;.t mil i tar·y f.a"S.h i on.
'Therfore
thy boKe of counte with
the
thou
brynge,/For tourne agayne thou can not by no waye'
(tyliY.:<.j ima 110).
Death
continues
by
scornfully
17
refusing to be bribed.
He
deals severely wi th Everyman/s tears,
messenger of
covering
then
He
God.
proceeds
insists he
upon
we
see
"I f IAle ana I yze
on the one hand, and the doctrinal
the ars· mor'iendi
The
last
on the other"
form
chain
of
world rotated.
He
force
aI d
being,
Grand
T est am e n t
(l'·li:~'a.jima
110).
point
ima9inin9, for example,
of
man
I il-';e
<•.1 e
their
God
on
of
On one hand God was looKed upon
n9e f u 1 ,
omnipotent, overpowerin9
On the other hand He was reduced
" .' Th e : . .
.j u dge , . '
I. . .!r' 0 t e
the
analogy
of
." II
1a I t e r
century
stage
Bibl ical sanctions a9ainst such
in
the
/of
corporeal
that God in his own nature
their' o(.o.)n, ... '
to
1." •.
0"1
has
i ya.j i ma 106) •
explains why the people of this period felt no qualms
putting
the
in history the concept
Hilton of his contemporaries of the fourteenth
fr'om
of
the center upon which the medieval
anthropomorphic.
thing':;
Leveller
and homiletic aspect from
Yet at this point
in the universe.
somethin9
the author' had
i·::. the culminatinl;::)
God was in a state of flux.
the
of
of characterization to be found in the
plays is that of God.
as
discourse
the speeches.
i n a fev,1 dozen lines.,
how,
brought in the popular concept of Death the
great
a
is the
Original Sin and the Last Judgment. He then leaves
as suddenly as he appeared.
Death,
then
mor·a.l it i es
imp e r' son a t i on s· .
the
This
about
desp i te
I t
a
1':.0
explains why no elaborate special effects were needed by the
God
character
since
the
people
omnipotent even thou9h he moved
<-.
I e.
r'eal ized
about
in
God
could
be
mor ta 1 ma.n.
Th
dua 1 i t::,1 in the na tur·e clf God man i fested i
i~.
the st.:..ge a.s
~",ell
In
•
of God is exempl ified in
God
appears
God
~etween
The
God
Castle
as both the
Mankind/s actions and as
contrast
plays
often
formi dabl e and the mer'c i ful.
the
which
the
God
of
Th
i~.
d1J3.1
merciful
on
natur'e
Perseverance,
as Judge and God as Father
in
Judge of
Father.
ife hangs in the balance.
in
1f
vacillated
intimidating final
the
t~.e
The
is stark,
HOI..'.Ie~Jer
,
the enc gentle prodding from Mercy causes God to embrace
his fal len son,
saying~
My mercy, Mankynd, yeue I the.
Cum s~t at my ryth honde.
Ful wel haue I louyd the,
'..)nK::r'nc thm·,1 I the fonde
.: 11. 3598-36(1).
Yet t hi,;,
of the
~.
h C'[A.I
pla~
0
f mer' c ),- i -;- c 0 u n t e r- e d by h i -;. 1 i n e';· .:.. t the
end
in which he offers a final warning:
& thei that weI do in thys werld, here welthe schal a wake
In heuene thei schal heynyd in bounte and blys
thei that evyl do thei ~.chul to helle laKE'
In byttyr balys to be brent my Judgement it is
t-"1;..- '.)er- tus in heuene thanne ~-cha 1 the i ql.J.Jal(e
ther is no wyth in this werld that may skape this
all men example here at may taKe
to mayntein the goode and mendyn here mys
ex
thus endyth oure gamys.
To saue you fro synnynge,
Evyr 3t the begynnynge
Thynke on youre last endynge '
De ~-p i te
sermonizin~,
~.aving
[.'.Ii th the
the
fact
their
( 1 1. 3638-48)
that sometimes the plays lapse into
the-"dr- i ca.l i t~.--
all,\la/-s
-:;er-I.}es
a.s
the i r'
pub1 i c
speaYer---
9r·ace.
e~,Ie
of
a
sk ill ed
preacher'
1 ~.
or-
balancing rhetoric and earnestness against an awareness that
the
audience
mousetrapped into
the
play:.
re lief.
()er·ba I
de I i gh ted
(Potter 33).
understanding~
the
IJ:.e
and
·:.urpr i :.ed
be
mu:· t
To
.",nd
do
this
effects of low humor and comic
However, much of their theatrical i ty comes from the
Often
visual effects of their staging.
used
elaborate
the p I
a~...
pageantry
times
these
plays
and costuming as is mentioned in
Wi:. d om :
Fyrst enteryde WYSDOME in a ryche
purpul I
clothe
of gold wyth a mantyl I
of
the same ermynnyde
l.<J::.'th in, hawynge abouwt tn's neke a r·ya I I hood
furred wyth ermyn, wpon hys hede a cheweler wyth
browyyys, a berde of golde os sypres curlyed,
a
ryche
imperyall
crown [thJwpon sett wyth precyus
:.ton~.··:, .:t.nd per'l :.':....
(Potter' 34).
Other notable costuming effects are apparent in the
Virtues
their virginal white robes and in the Vic@s with their
sumptuous finery.
the
r' e p r' e ·;:·e n t
Changes in costuming
various
stages
of
are
Man.
represented in The Castle of Perseverance.
this
play
representee
Mankind
is
by an actor
found
also
naked
used
to
Th i:.
At the beginning
and
newly
in flesh-colored tights.
born,
This lack
of ear'thl>' clc.thing r·epr·€'·:,ent·:. hi:. initial pur·ity.
Once the
Vices appear in their finery Mankind becomes concerned about
hi:. appear·,:.nce, .3.nd ·:·oc.n he,
At
v,)
0
this
point
n de" and i n
reI iance
~
one
can
too,
ob':.er'~.'e
r' 0 b : ." .:. r' i'.) e" (I I.
.~.
upon v.,lor·ldl:y· plea,,:.ur'es.
is. dr·e·;:.:.ed in the fu 11
i,;:, dr·e·;:.:.ed
he
a<=·
is clothed in
2 5, 6'7' '7'), a ':. a s i g n
~1.AJelth:Y's
0
f
hi·:.
Later, before he dies, he
loo';:'€' r·obe:· of .:t,n c.l d man.
20
.3.re.
the~.··
"Stage
epochs
1 ike
properties,
costume
changes,
the career of ManKind as he oscillates from good
in
toe ',) iI, an d g i \) e can c r' e t e thE'.;c. t r' i cal f or'm
homiletic
metaphor"
to
can ',! e n t i on a 1
(Be'. . i ngton, Ca:.t 1 e 162).
For E'xample,
the "pricK of conscience and death",:. dart ar'e
to
Juxtapose
is
the plays;
al iKe
ife of
The prick of
qu i te 1 i ter'.:..ll ::,', as .:O.r·e a 11 .;c,c t i on:·
taKen
thus,
enough
two cri tical moments in the
visually
the protagonist" (Bevington, Castle 162).
d.;c.r ts
the
mark
thE' major prop USE'd by both
the
t_~1
i th i n
Penitence
and
Death is a lance wi th which to pricK Mankind.
Props are used also in the battle between the Vices and
I.)
i r' tues.
Gluttony attacKs AbstinencE' with a flaming torch
Lecher'::.--,
(1.15'61).
too, battles. t",lith fir-e, but is r'epelled
by Chast j t:;;- t/Jho quenche:-
II
th.:O.t fOl..'.,Il e he tE'"
0:
Sloth
1. 2:30:3).
proposE's to drain the moat surrounding thE' castle by use
hi·:.
f
sp a.de
(11.
2326-29).
Use of fire abounds as the smoke
r' om "h ell fir' e" r- col 1 s· for' t h f r- om the s· c a f f old c' f
who informs ManKind that there he will
(11. 32076-7:=:).
The
Virtues
burn
banners as do thE' Vices.
rages the Vices can be identified by their
including
lances,
f i r·ebr·a.nds,
and
conversely, fight armed wi th flowE'rs
in
natur·e.
As the b.:O.ttle
weapons
Th e
shields.
and
the de viI ,
in pitch and tar
tvlan::.' of the pr·ops. ar'e mi 1 i tar',,'-
raise
of
water
to
of
t.)
war
i r' t u e -:. ,
quench
rage B.nd hatr·ed.
tvlu ';:. i c ,
plays.
too,
is
used
to
heighten
In many of the plays trumpets are
21
the
impact of the
used,
e sp e c i .;c. 1 1 ::.'
in
battle
In Jhe Castle of Perseverance trumpets
scenes.
are called for by Bel ial who commands, "Clariouns cryith
-3. t
k r -3.k e" (1 1. 2197).
.;:t.
of
Mankind
A 1 so mu sic ''; i gn.::<. 1 s the
t..·.1
inn i n go\.) e r
Thi·:. is. cc.unter·ed later' in
to the side of sin.
the play when the Virtues sing to celebrate ManKind's
i n tot h e c a. s· tIe •
up
entry
A t the end a fin aIm u .:. i c·::<. I pie c e i s calle d
for by God, the Te Deum laudamus.
.Just
ev iI,
SCI
befor'e,
as costumes, props, and music del ineate good from
do the gestures of the charac ter·s.
the
Vices
As
men t i oned
are rowdy, raucous characters, loud and
boisterous, while the Virtues are meek and retiring.
the
Vices
shout
and
laugh,
the
Virtues sigh and cry in
lament for Mankind's wicKed ways.
Yet this is
the
and the Bad Angel
and
end of Castle when the Vices
"s~~'e
klh i Ie
reversed
at
"sobbe"
sore" (11. 1866, 3593) as t"'1ank i nd stands befor'e the
throne of God and they "are beaten down to
hell
[. . Ih i Ie
the
virtuous rejoice" (Bevington, Castle 168).
The
the most
last element of staging to be discussed is perhaps
important one, scenic practices.
the plays follm\led similar' de·:.igns,
Castle
the
0
of
Al though most
of
the s.ta.ge des.ign for' The
Per'severance is the most el.::<.bor·.::<.te.
AI':"::',
it is
n l~... Eng lis. h mc. r' a lit y P I a::,' t 0 c. f fer' an e :x: t .: <. n t d i .;:t. g r' am
the "stage" design (Appendix II).
0
f
For this playa castle is
erected in the center of the platea, or playing space.
This
playing space was outdoors since around i t a di tch was
dug.
This
ditch
had the dual
purpose of serving as the castle's
.-, .-.
Li:..
moat and also the means by
The audience gathered in the area between the
sp e ct·;:.. tor' s •
castle and the ditch.
On the
outside
or "mansions" were built.
sca.ffol ds,
belonged
to
Bel ial,
nor·thea.-:.ter·n tCI
imagery
out
which
the
the
as
was
Fle-:.h,
and
the
scaffold represented Heaven whi Ie the
These
western scaffold represented Hel I
decorated
f i ~.!e
As is appropr i a.te to Bi bl i cal
CO~..Ietousness.
Eastern
di tch
The northern scaffold
tCI
-=:·ou thern
the
of
their
to
appropriate
scaffolds belonging to the Vices were
scaffolds
were
occupants.
The
richly
arrayed,
the
hell scaffold was designed as a "hell-mouth," and the Heaven
scaffold
was
i t·s g I or y mo t if.
in
resplendent
performance the action moved from one
and
so
did
the
audience.
scaffold
Dur'ing the
to
another
"In such a cosmic arena, stage
mol,.' eme n t c a,n not fa i Ito -;:·u gge s t a ·:.e n se of d i r' e c t i on or'
opposite,
wandering,
in man's spiritual pilgrimage through
I ife" (Bevington, C.::o.-:,tle 1(0). Thi-;:. r'esIJlt-=:. in
a.c t i on, on e I.) e r' tic a I, on e h or' i z on t a I.
the
\.-' ice -;:.
into sin.
a -:.c end-=:o •
r"j a
r, ~:: i n d
When
goes
This
e a. s t t CI
into
plane-=:. of
Af t e r h i -:. vis i t
lit e r' all /' f r' om the s c a f f
the
castle
to
repent
t.o,1
ith
0
I d::O
he
movement
changes
to
ascent
yet
as mankind mounts the Heaven scaffold after his final
repentance and death.
moves
0::
h'JO
When he reemerges into the grasp of Covetousness
he descends again.
again
des c end -;:.
he
i t-;:.
horizontally
~~, e
The action throughout the
play
also
as Mankind journeys bacK and forth from
-: t, f r' om He a~! e n t
0
He I I, and b a c k •
emerges o~.Ier·al J is a
theater·
repr·e·:;.entat i ve
of
the d i'.) i ne un i 'er·-:;.e,
l~.I i th lit tIe t·'1an at
i t-:.
center and with vast
contending forces facing
their
opposite numbers on every side.
The
audience
is
everywhere
at
once
and
thus
omniscient;
nothing that Man does escapes notice,
his smal lest acts are cosmically significant.
The
audience, sharing the perception that Man's
trust
i n ~~Ior I dl y pr·osper· i t)-·· is ill usor·::,··, i·:;. pr·epar·ed to
c c.n cur· i nth e .j u -:;. tic e of the fin.:o. I .j u dgme n t sc e n e ,
and to apply the lesson to its own need
to
thinK
on the "end i nge da>'" (Be'v' i ngton, Ca-:.t Ie 170).
~·Jh20.t
I•.•
In plays not as scenically elaborate as Castle the same
principles hold true.
basic
These plays usually begin wi th
a prologue by a speaker, either a character
for·ma I
In
p r· e -:·e n t e r· •
.:o.c k n m. .11 edge
the
t hi·:;.
~··.la ::.'
i·::.
freel;.,,·
the
presence of the audience.
not asked to imagine a fictional
spea.ker·
in the play or a
liKely
to
1 oc a Ie,
The audience
ar·e·:o. ,
normally
a
a. r· e
"The pr·ologue
local it::,. of performa.nce.
The
marKet square or guildhall
become for the moment a model
au die n c e
the
allude to the pla;>··ing space itself,
I ikening it to the greater world (Potter 32).
es.t.:o.bl ishe-: the dual
i nste.:o.d
bu t
is
of the world.
not so mu c h a -:;. KEo d t 0
as invi ted by the actors to
-:. u s
pIa.)'·
or field,
Members of
i ng
had
the
pen d the i r· dis. bel i e f ,
to p,o..r·ticipa.te in a
theatrical
analogy" (Potter 33).
I pray you all give your audience,
And here this mater with reverence,
By figure a moral 1 playe:
Tt-Le Scmoninqe of Ever·yman called it i-:.•.• (II
1-4)
Here shal I you se how Falawship and Jol ite,
Bothe Strengthe, Pleasure, and 8eaute,
Will fade from the[e] as floure in Maye;
For ye shall here how our heven Kinge
Calleth Everyman to a generall reKeninge.
Give audience, and here what he doth saye. (11. 16-21)
24
To force the audience to thinK on its own
is
~endinge
indeed the point of each of these plays.
plays
were
designed
to
teach
while
entertaining
didn't leave their audiences with the bitter
public
which
in the end
the
~produce
i-::.
aftertaste
It i·::. impor·tant to note that a
chastisement.
be i ng-::..
to
call
for
repentance
must
It must define human beings as creatures
attr'acti~)e
of
pla:~"
fir·-::.t
c omm una. 1 a. c k n 0(.<.• 1 e d gm e n t t hat \. ..1 ear' e a I I hum a n
the pleasures of the flesh wi 1 1 always seem more
than the con·:.ideration-::. of E'ter·nit;..·~
In other words,
d.n
their
They were communal cal Is to repentance, yet they
.:..ud i ence .
a'::.
day~
for
whom
immediately
(Potter'
the plays view the fal I of each man
::::.~.).
into sin
ine'Ji table par·t of I ife and thu-::. u:.u.:<.l h' :.pend little
time dea.l i ng . .0 i th the concep t of innocence.
example,
begins
when
Everyman
is summoned by Death, long
.:<. f t e r' E ,,) e r ;"m an" sin i t i .:<. I f a I lin to'::' in.
is always saved from damnation
for
y' e t
in the end.
the p r' 0 t .:.. g 0 n i s t
To
t e d.C h
the
means by which sinners can gain salvation is at the heart of
the dr·ama.
Th e mor' a liz i n g of the mor' a lit i e s· i -::. n G t, the n, a
pur i ta.n den i a I of hum.:..n na tur·e; indeed,
it
is .:<.
dogmatic proclamation of the Adam in al I men.
And
fortunately for
all
men,
their sin may lead to
remorse,
that
remorse may
be
converted
to
contri tion,
and
thus they may be forgiven and
s.aIJed. The dialectical the·:.is. of the mc,ral itie-::.,
stated briefly,
is that God has recognized human
nature and carved out for it a path to salvation,
through repentance (Potter 49).
I
nor' der'
to teach this lesson the play must encourage
its audience to "acknowledge wi th laughter [its] recogni tion
of the common weaknesses of humanity,
which
It
can scarcely be blamed" (Potter 36)
the
mor.:..l it;.··
gu i It.
play
ini tial
" Its.
that
pretension
ser·'.}es
any
as
1
attack
human
members
ar·e
"subtly
unpleasant
(Potter·
prepared
to
being
car i c:.. tur·e
When
c,f
that
1.90,.·
1.....
from i nd i v i dual
h::.··pocr· it i cal
the
can be strong enough to
In this
way
its
as
the
own
the
accept
consequences •••
~:6).
on
general
the
a.udience
into accepting their own weaknesses and
I ur·ed
are
i·:::. in th i s·
i ber.:t. t i on
is
resist being human" (Potter 36)
being
un for· tun a. t e
and
a case of collective guil t"
audience,
behavior,
f r· i gh ten e d
sees
the
the
b;.-·
consequences
brought about by the actions of "Mankind" on the stage,
solution
of
repentance
"collective response
i n d i v i du .901
esc ape
to
from
will
an
become compe 11 i ng, both .9oS a
i
n d i t) i du a I
gu i I t
.9ond
the colle c t i ~J e g u i 1 t"
as
during
the
an
(P 0 t t e r· 36).
And if for any reason the audience missed the point
play
the
of
the
action, an epilogue was presented to spur
their consciences.
Gr·anted,
the mai n pur·po-::.e of the mc,r·al it i es· [.<Jas to
individual souls, but perhaps beneath the surface
intent
to
save
society
through
Richard Southern points this out
fr·om
the
gr·ea t
bi bl i cal
imbedded
which
foundation stones of the drama, we find
constant
i es
the
social satire.
stating,"'In
cycles
s· .... '·. 'e
f
were
that
·9oc t ,
apart
the
ba·:::.ic
there
1.....1·:..5
a
incentive to tel I audiences not only something new,
but i f P 0 s· sib 1 e .:. om e t h i n 9 s t a. r· t lin g.""
0"·1 i : ... ·90 jim a. 1 1 7) •
Light
s..:dire is pr'e':;ent
soc i al
in se'.}eral of the
Wisdom jabs
denounces clerical misconduct.
1 a.I . <)
including
satire
at
perjury, false
bribery,
the
unjus.t jur·ies.•
pla~.,s.
deeply
most
abuses
of
indictment and
rooted
social
is contained within The Castle of Perseverance.
This
P I a)'
appears to be a straightforward account of the
perils of the World, the Flesh,
and
the Devi 1-unt i 1 (" . Ie r'eal i s·e that the 1..'•.Ior··::.t of all the deadl y
sins is not shown (as was usual) to be Pride,
but
Covetousness.
Now this may not startle us; but in
a period when the mercanti Ie classes were rising
at the
expense
of
the
old feudal
order,
and
England was finding a great new prosperi ty through
trade,
it must
have
been
in many quarters an
unwelcome doctrine (Southern in Miyaj ima 117)
As one can easily see,
the moral ities were so much more
Gr·a.nted,
than merely "bloodless abstractions."
was allegory dramatized, but that
)'ield
or'
equal
itself does
not
dullness or rigidi ty as some cri tics would
I nstead
oppo·:. i te .
in and of
the mor'al it)··
8 y dr' am a t i z i n g
.;:<. 1
the
effec t
1,,·.Ia.s
leg 0 r y the m0 r' a lit y
qu i te
the
"0 pen
e d up
tc. the dramat i c author'
in Engl.:r.nd the gr·e.:d pos.si bi 1 it i e'::· of
personification as an
instrument
idea'::, .
It
for
presenting
abstract
is. this. technique, much fr'eer' .:r.nd intellectualJ>'
str·onger· and (.\.Ii th mor'e fl e::< i bl e pos.s.i bi lit i es th.3.t s.epa.r.3.tes.
the moral ity from the miracles and mysteries" of
time
period
(Miyaj ima
4-5).
tha. t
The mora lit i es r'epr'esen t .:r.
9r'eat s.tep fc.r·(J..Ia.r·d for' Engl i s.h dr··:c.ma and 1 i ter·a.tur·e.
The author' of ·3. mor·a.l i t::.-· c.:c.n arr'ange
hi':; subject
freely, attempt construction and unity.
He is led
to
analyse
human qual ities and defects,
to
...·-I~
: ...
·::·ame
emphasize
psychological
characteristics.
t'"li ~.er·l i ne~·s,
for'
i n·:.t.::c.nce,
cannot
be pr·e·:.ented
(.'•.1 i thou t
stu d;. .· of the c h a.r· .:r.c t e r of the m i ':;e r' .
In
this
1••'Jay
the
mor·a.lity,
e'·,'en
the r·eligiou·:.
moral i ty, prepared drama for
emancipation from
r'e 1 i 9 ion.
I t~. theme i~. the ~.tr·lJgl~l e of the for'ces
of goc,d an de'. . i 1 !.-'.Jh i c h con t e':· t for' the h IJman sou 1 .
This problem continued to confront the poet who
was no longer inspired by
the Christian faith.
The
permanent
basis of every dramatic worK had
been discovered
(Emi le LegolJis in Miyaj ima 5).
28
APPENDIX I
Th e Le g CI.C 7' of the t'lor' a lit ;~.
Durino
the
sixteenth
underwent several changes.
became
almost
entirely
the
century
mor'ality
f or'm
In some cases the subject matter
secular,
If
in
3.'::-
John
SKel ton's
t'1agn i f i cence, \A.lh j ch descr' i be'::· the Ii fe·::.t::,"l e .appropr i .::..te to .;:..
ruler, or
in Nicholas de la Chesnaye's Condemnation
Bangue t,
\.'.Ih i ch
warns
especially
(Br'ocKe t t
141 ) .
treats
both mental
against
~Perhaps
pl.;:..:)':. is ,John B'::'.les·"s King ,John,
ruler holds
(Br'ocKe t t
out
141).
of
The plays were also often used as weapons
i nth e r' eli g i ou:. ba ttl e:· of the da;.'.
these
the
and physical heal th and
danger·s
the
of
against
the
e\)jl
the
best
of
in 1..<.Ihich the Engl ish
for'ces
of
This play, marKed by historical
'::'.nd E",Jent:. i nter·mi ngl ed into the mor'al i ty
for'm,
the
pope"
personages
1 t?ad:.
the
way for the chronicle plays of ShaKespeare and others.
More
beh<.Ieen
denounced
and more often though,
Protest.::..nts
.;:..nd
the plays marKed divisions
Cathol i cs.
each other in their plays.
The
Protestant playwright
Thomas Naogeorgus penned perhaps the most forceful
of these,
a.1 mo-=:· t
Cover
: . . e ar' -=:. ,
1 ,000
ending
glorification of Luther as a major target
forces, epi tomized in Bishop Pammachius"
HOI.'.)e I} e r' ,
man::.'
these
of
an tic h r' i,:;, t
.:<.ga. in':;. t
Pammachius, "which treats the
I a. ter' ,
with the
.:<.n tic h r' i s t i an
of
<BrocKett 142).
theoreticall/
more
advanced dramas have fal len by the wayside.
Par·a.dox i call y,
in some ways seems simple
in comparison to
Ever'y-man,
I.J.Jh i c h
some of the later plays, stands now as the perfect
the
.~.ge-
It has had a long and successful
•
modern stage, and has exerted
(Hurt 1547).
dr·ama.
moder'n
ceonsiderable
marK
eof
history on the
influence
upeon
The play was restaged in Londeon
13e r'man
Re i nhar·dt
d i r'ec tor'
pr'oduc t i on.
1911 •
It
Reinhardt's Jedermann was
del}e I opmen t
(Hurt
b::.··
the
Leon don
first
in
is apparent that EverYman, along with other pre-
r' e a lis tic ct r' am a':.,
a-=:. a mode I
i nsp ired
i..I.J.:" S.
of
for'
"h a -:;.
had
.:.
t r' 0 n 9
influence
upon
the
the post-r'ea list i c moder'n dr'ama, espec i a II : ..,
dr' am .:t. t i z i n 9
Per·h.:<.p·:.
154E;' •
d.
inner' ,
though,
moral ities too closely wi th
the
it
P':::"'chol Ol;li cal
.:<.ction"
is e;< tr'eme to
ink the
modern
thea.ter.
It
i -:;.
hm'.Jever·, due to it,:. adaptabi Ii t::.-· tha.t the for'm h.::..s sur· l. . i l}ed,
"since
it·:
ba-=:.ic
eventual recovery
(Bel.}ington
795) .
plot
of
-:;.ou l-,:.tr·uggl e,
could
be
su i ted
and the
coun t I e-=:.·:.
themes"
As Bernard SpivacK proved in ShaKespeare
and the A I I ego r' :~.,
-=o,-,f_-=E:..:~._I=-i.:...1 ,
moralitie':'
pr'o l} i ding
for'
to
f aI I ,
Sh .:<.1< e .:.p ear' e
0[....112'
d
mu c h
to
the
in':. i gh tin tot hen a t u r' e clf e I. . i I .
30
"Pichar',j III,
I a 0;;10 , Edumund (in King Lear'), and to ·:..n extent
Falstaff, all
owe much to the Vice as a
mor'al
it~.'
pla~.,-:.
stage
type.
thu-:. became the chief dr·am.:..tic 1 ink bet . . .Jeen
the medieval stao;;le and the Shakespearian," and at
if
left
The
not
in and of
i t·:.e 1 f,
in
the mc,r'a 1 it)' P 1 .:..~.' ha.-:.
its distinctive mark on world theater (Bevington, Drama
31
APPENDIX I I
IIDtlft'~t
UVtt6J<SfIlH
S'4ff~"
This illustration comes from
Will iams, Arnold. The Drama of Medieval England.
University Press, 1961. 150.
32
Michigan State
~~orks
Ci ted
The PI ay';
Anonymous. ~veryman. The Norton Anthology of Engl ish Literature
New York: W.W. Norton and Company, 1986. 346-365.
Anonymous. ~ankind. Medieval Drama.
Company, 1975. 903-938.
Boston: Houghton Miffl in
Bevington, DClvid, ed. The Macro Plays.
Corporation, 1972.
Eccles, Mark, ed.
1969.
The Macro Plays.
Ne~\)
York:
,John~.on
Repr'int
London: Oxford University Press,
The Sources
Berthold, Margot. A History of World Theater.
Ungar Publ ishing Co., 1972. 301-34.
New York: Frederick
Bevington, David. "Man, Thinke on Thine Endinge Day: Stage Pictures
Of .Just Judgment in The Castle of Perseverance." Homo,
~1eme!jto Finis.
Ed. David Bevington. Kalamazoo, t1ichigan:
Medieval Institute Publications, 1985. 147-178.
Bevington, David, ed.
CompanY,
1975. 75i l-963.
Medieval Drama. Boston: Houghton Miffl in
Brockett, Oscar G. History of the Theatre.
Inc., 1987. 139-143.
Boston: Allyn and Bacon,
Hurt, James and Brian Wilkie, ed. Literature of the Western World. New
York: Macmillan Publishing Co.! Inc., 1984. 1545-68.
Kahrl, Stanle'y ,..T. Tradition clf t1edieval English Drama.
University of Pittsburgh Press, 1975. 99-121.
Pittsbur'gh:
Miyajima, Sumiko. The Theatre of
Pr in tin g Co. Ltd., 1977.
Potter, Robert A. The Engl i,:.h
Kegan Paul, 1975. 1-47.
Ma~.
Mor'~l
Avon, England: Cleuedon
i ty Plat.
London: Routledge and
Schell, Edgar.
"On the Imitation of Life"s Pilgrimage in The
Castle of Perseverance." t1edieval Engl ish Drama.
Ed. Jerome
Taylor ard Alan Nelson.
Chicago: University of Chicago Press,
1972. 27,'-291.
Taylor, Jerome.
"Critics, Mutations, and Historians of Medieval
Engl ish [Irama." t1edieval Engl ish Drama. Ed. Jerome Ta;/lor and
Alan Nelson. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1972.
1-27.