CONTENTS

Page
I.An Historical View of the Beginnings of English Comedy
By Charles Mills Gayley
Of the University of California [xi]
II.John Heywood: Critical Essay. Alfred W. Pollard
Of St. John's College, Oxford, and the British Museum[1]
Edition of the Play of the Wether.The Same[19]
Edition of a Mery Play betweene Johan Johan, Tyb, etc.The Same[61]
III.Nicholas Udall: Critical Essay. Ewald Flügel
Of Stanford University [87]
Edition of Roister Doister.The Same[105]
Appendix on Various Matters.The Same[189]
IV.William Stevenson: Critical Essay. Henry Bradley
Of the University of Oxford[195]
Edition of Gammer Gurtons Nedle. The Same[205]
Appendix. The Same[259]
V.John Lyly: Critical Essay. George P. Baker
Of Harvard University[263]
Edition of Alexander and Campaspe.The Same[277]
VI.George Peele: Critical Essay. F. B. Gummere
Of Haverford College[333]
Edition of The Old Wives' Tale.The Same[349]
Appendix.The Same[383]
VII.Greene's Place in Comedy: A Monograph. G. E. Woodberry
Of Columbia University[385]
VIII.Robert Greene: His Life, and the Order of his Plays.Charles Mills Gayley[395]
Edition of the Honourable Historie of Frier Bacon.The Same [433]
Appendix on Greene's Versification.The Same[503]
IX.Henry Porter: Critical Essay. Charles Mills Gayley[513]
Edition of The Two Angry Women of Abington.The Same[537]
X.Shakespeare As a Comic Dramatist. Edward Dowden
Of Trinity College, Dublin[635]
Index. [663]

An Historical View
OF THE
BEGINNINGS OF ENGLISH COMEDY

By Charles Mills Gayley

AN HISTORICAL VIEW OF THE BEGINNINGS OF ENGLISH COMEDY

I. Liturgical Fragments, Early Saints' Plays and Parodies

The earliest evidence of dramatic effort in England is to be found in Latin tropes of the Easter service, composed for use in churches at different periods between 967 and the middle of the eleventh century. While these are, of course, serious in nature and function, they interest the historian of comedy because they show that the dramatic spirit was at work among our ancestors before the Anglo-Saxons had passed under the yoke of the Normans. Likewise naturally devoid of comic interest, but of vital importance in the development of a dramatic technique, are certain fragments of liturgical plays, belonging to the library of Shrewsbury School, which were published in 1890 by Professor Skeat.[1] Each of these deals, as an integer, with a crisis in the career of our Lord; and, except for occasional choruses and passages from the liturgy in Latin, the plays are English—the English, in fact, translating and enlarging upon the Latin of the service. Though the manuscript is probably not older than 1400, it is a fragment, as Professor Manly has said, of a series of plays of much earlier date, which were "performed in a church on the days and in the service celebrating events of which the plays treat."[2] These fragments are of great importance as constituting a link between the dramatic tropes of the tenth and eleventh centuries and the scriptural pageants presented at a later period outside the church: first by the clergy, with the assistance, perhaps, of townspeople (as may have been the case when a Resurrection play was given in the churchyard of St. John's, Beverley, about 1220); afterward by the civic authorities and the several gilds when church plays had come to be acted commonly in the streets, that is, after the reinstitution of the feast of Corpus Christi in 1311.

The existence of tropes at a period earlier than that in which mention is made of plays based upon the miracles of the saints appears to me to negative Professor Ten Brink's conjecture that in the development of our sacred drama legendary subjects preceded the biblical. Indeed, the fact that dramas on subjects both biblical and legendary, and of a technique even more highly developed than that of the Shrewsbury, were, as early as 1160, produced for liturgical functions in France, not only by Frenchmen, but by one Hilarius, who was presumably an Englishman, favours the opinion that the earliest saints' plays in England, also, were as frequently derived from scriptural as from legendary sources. It is, moreover, likely that the first saints' plays on legendary subjects in England of which we have record were neither the first of their kind in the period attributed to their presentation, nor a notable advance in dramatic art when they were presented. There is nothing in the earliest record of a legendary saint's play, the miracle of St. Katharine, presented by Geoffrey, afterwards Abbot of St. Albans, at Dunstable about 1100, to warrant the inference that it was a novelty, even at that date. Since Geoffrey was at the time awaiting a position as schoolmaster, he was probably within his function, de consuetudine magistrorum et scholarum,[3] when he produced the play; and it is to be noticed that when Matthew of Paris writes concerning the matter, about 1240, he appears to be much more interested in an accident which attended the performance than in the mere composition and presentation of what he calls "some play or other of St. Katharine, of the kind that we commonly call Miracles."[4] Indeed, William Fitzstephen, writing some seventy years before Matthew, speaks of such plays of the saints as in his time quite customary. The probabilities are, then, that this first legendary saint's play recorded as acted in England had been preceded by others of its kind, and they in turn by miracles of biblical heroes and by liturgical plays and dramatic tropes of the services of the church.

It is not unreasonable to surmise that this legendary kind of miracle, although sometimes used as part of the church service on the saint's day, and originally possessed of serious features, speedily developed characteristics helpful in the progress of the comic drama. All we know of the St. Katharine play is that it was written for secular presentation at a date when no mention is yet made of the public acting of scriptural plays. The dramatist would, however, be more likely to adorn the useful with the amusing in the preparation of a play not necessarily to be performed within the sacred precincts; and while the technique of the legendary miracle was presumably akin from the first to that of the biblical, it is natural to suppose that the plot was handled with larger imaginative freedom.

But our knowledge of these early saints' plays need not be entirely a matter of surmise. We may form a fair idea of their character from contemporary testimony, from the style of the Latin or French saints' plays of the time that have survived, from the nature of the legends dramatized, and from the analogy of contemporary biblical plays. To the locus classicus of contemporary testimony in William Fitzstephen's Life of Thomas à Becket (1170-82) I have already made reference. Speaking of the theatrical shows and spectacular plays of Rome, the biographer says that "London has plays of a more sacred character—representations of the miracles which saintly confessors have wrought, or of the sufferings whereby the fortitude of martyrs has been displayed." According to this, the ludi sanctiores, or marvels, as they seem later to be called,[5] are of two classes: the marvel of the faith that removes mountains, the marvel of the fortitude that endures martyrdom. In either case the saint's play is of the stuff that produces comedy; for, whether the miracles are active or passive, the Christian saint and soldier always proceeds victorious, and with increasing merit abides as ensample and intercessor in the church invisible.

This relation of the saint's play to comedy appears the more evident when we read in the Golden Legend and elsewhere the histories of the saints who became favourites in English or foreign drama or pageant,—St. Katharine, St. George, St. Susanna, St. Botulf, and the like. In most cases the triumph of the marvel naturally outweighed the terror; and in the one of the few English plays of the purely legendary kind that survives, the St. George—degenerate in form and now merely a folk drama—the self-glorification of the saint and the amusing discomfiture and recovery of himself and his foes are the only elements that have outlived the stress of centuries. The Miracle of St. Nicholas, written in the middle of the twelfth century, affords still better opportunity of studying the dramatic quality of the kind in question. For the author, Hilarius, wrote also in a like mixture—Latin with French refrains—a scriptural play of Lazarus; and in collaboration with others, but entirely in Latin, a magnificent dramatic history called Daniel. These, like the St. Nicholas, were adapted to performance in church at the appropriate season in the holy year, and no better illustration can be found of the essential difference between the scriptural or so-called 'mystery' play, on the one hand, and the saint's play, on the other, than is offered by them. The two scriptural plays, stately, reverent, adapted to the solemn and regular ritual of which they are an illustration in the concrete betray not a gleam of humour; the play of the other kind, written as it is for the festival of a jovial saint, leaps in medias res with bustle and surprise; and from the speech with which Barbarus entrusts his treasure to the saint even to the last French refrain, after Nicholas has forced the robbers to restitution, we are well over the brink of the comic. By the concluding scene, serious and in Latin of the church, setting forth the conversion of the pagan, the feelings of the congregation are restored to the level of the divine service, momentarily interrupted by the comedy but now resumed.

These, and all saints' plays not, like the St. Anne's play, of a cyclic character, were, from the first, dramatic units; they represented a single general plot, generally of a single hero; the action was focussed on the critical period of his life; and a considerable incitement was consequently offered to invention of incident and development of character. A comparative study of the plays concerning St. Nicholas will justify the statement that the dramatist was by way of taking liberties with, or varying, his selection from legend. The Einsiedeln Nicholas play of the twelfth century deals with a different miracle from that dramatized by Hilarius; and of the four Fleury plays of St. Nicholas, probably composed in the same century, the two that deal with these miracles vary the treatment; the other two are on different themes, but all would appear, from the editions which we have of them, to be promising little comedies. The possibilities of this kind of drama are best displayed in still another play of St. Nicholas, written in the vernacular by a Frenchman of Arras, Jean Bodel, about the year 1205. Throwing the traditional legends entirely overboard, he gives his imagination free course with favouring winds of knightly adventure, but over the waters of everyday life. He produces a play at once comic, fanciful, and realistic, the first of its kind—of so excellent a quality that Creizenach says that it would appear as if dramatic poetry were even then well on the way of development from the ecclesiastical model to a romantic kind of art in the style of the later English and Spanish drama: chivalric, fantastic, and realistic.[6]

Unfortunately, other plays of this kind, like the Theophilus of Rutebeuf, do not always avail themselves of their chances; but we may in general surmise that such plays in English—and we have evidence of many—contributed as much as the biblical miracle to the cultivation of a popular taste for comedy and the encouragement of inventive power in the handling of dramatic fable. I believe that they contributed more than the pre-Reformation morals, and from an earlier period.

I have said that in all probability there was nothing unusual in the presentation of saints' plays by Hilarius and Geoffrey. Latin plays were not a novelty in the twelfth century, at any rate to men of culture and the church. When we consider the history of the Terentian and Plautine manuscripts, how carefully the former were cherished, and with what appreciation a portion at least of the latter, during the Middle Ages, we cannot but apprehend the extent of their influence, even when unapparent, upon taste, style, and thought. Plautus (in whose comedies, with those of Terence, St. Jerome was wont to seek consolation after seasons of strenuous fasting and prayer) was imitated in a Querolus and probably a Geta, as early as the fourth century; and Terence was adapted by Hrosvitha in the tenth. We are, therefore, not at all surprised when we find Latin comedy during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries clothing itself through France and Italy in the verdure of another spring. To be sure the new style of production—a declamation by way of dialogue or conversational narrative, in elegiac verse—was not intended for histrionic presentation; but it was nevertheless of the dramatic genus; little by little the narrative outline dwindled and the mimetic opportunities of the speaker were emphasized. His success was measured by his skill in representing diverse characters merely by changes of voice, countenance, and gesture. He is the impersonator in transition to the actor. These elegiac comedies indicate the continuing influence of Latin comedy upon the literary creativity of the day; they furnish, besides, both the material for the regular drama that was coming, and the taste by which it should be controlled. I am, indeed, of the opinion that from this source the farce interludes of England, France, and Italy drew much of their content during the next three centuries, and that the saint's plays of that period, at least those in Latin, derived therefrom their dramatic technique. The revival of Latin comedy during the twelfth century was partly by way of adaptations, as in the dramatic poems of Vitalis of Blois; partly of independent productions, fashioned upon classical models but dealing with contes, fabliaux or novelle of contemporary quality. Of the latter kind the more interesting examples upon the continent were the Alda of William of Blois, and two elegiac poems, perhaps Italian, of lovers and go-betweens,—a graceful and passionate comedy of Pamphilus and a dramatic version by one Jacobus of the intrigue, so dear to mediæval satirists, between priest and labourer's wife. The subject and treatment of the last of these suggest, at once, a kinship with an Interludium de Clerico et Puella in English of the end of the thirteenth century, and with an earlier English story from which that is derived; also with Heywood's much later play of Johan. That there was a Latin elegiac comedy in England during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries,—comedy of domestic romance with all or some of the characters common to the kind—youth and maid, wife and paramour, enamoured cleric, faithless husband, cuckold, enraged father, parasite, slave, go-between, and double,—is rendered probable by the survival of two such poems, one of which bears internal evidence of its origin in England, while the only manuscripts extant of the other were found in that country. The first lacks a title, but has been called the Baucis after the manipulator of the intrigue, a procuress; the second is named Babio for the unhappy hero who is at one and the same time fooled by his wife whom he doesn't love, and his step-daughter whom he does. Both comedies display the influence of classical Latin, but the latter sparkles with the humour and spontaneity of the comedy of contemporary life.[7]

I agree, therefore, with Dr. Ward that the burden of proof is with those who assert that the Latin comedy of the Middle Ages made no impression upon the earlier drama of England. That the former was one of the tributaries of the farce interlude and the principal source of the romantic play of domestic intrigue I have no doubt whatever. And, considering the influx of French clerics and culture during the eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries, and the French affiliations of Geoffrey of St. Albans and Hilarius, our earliest recorded writers of saints' plays, not to speak of the latinity of our Maps, Wirekers, and other scholars of Henry II.'s reign, and their familiarity with the literature of the Continent, which was Latin,—it would be unreasonable to assume that the authors of our saints' plays, whether in Latin or not, did not derive something of their technique from the elegiac comedies of their contemporary latinists in France and England, or indeed from the adaptations of Plautus and Terence in previous centuries, or from the originals themselves.

When the religious drama passed into the hands of the crafts, it carried with it such individual plays, of both scriptural and legendary kinds, as were suitable to the collective character which it was assuming. The Corpus Christi, Whitsuntide, Easter, or Christmas cycle, though it aimed to illustrate sacred history and so justify God's ways to man, drew its materials, not only from the scriptures of the canon, but from the Apocrypha, the pseudo-Gospels, and mediæval legends of scriptural and sometimes non-scriptural saints. There was no real ground for distinction, and there is none now, dramatic or didactic, between the non-scriptural stories of scriptural characters, St. Joseph, and St. Thomas, stories of the Death, Assumption, and Coronation of the Virgin, stories of St. Paul and St. Mary Magdalene, which happened to be absorbed into this or the other miracle cycle, and the non-scriptural stories of extra-biblical saints in plays which have retained their independence: that of Nicholas, for instance, or of Katharine or Laurence or Christina, except that these and their heroes are concerned with events later than those which conclude the earthly career of our Lord and of the Virgin Mary. All religious historical plays, biblical or legendary, cyclic or independent, of events contemporaneous with, or subsequent to, the scriptural, were miracles, properly so called by our forefathers; and as the didactic intent of the species waned, one was as likely as another to develop material for amusement. Indeed, the authors of the Manuel des Pechiez and The Handlynge Synne,—the preacher of that fourteenth-century attack upon miracle plays which has been preserved in the Reliquiæ Antiquæ,—these, and Chaucer, Langland, and Wyclif make no distinction between miracles of the central mystery from the Old and New Testaments and miracles worked and suffered by saints, whether legendary or biblical. The distinction, if any, made by them, is between miracles acted to further belief by priests and clerks in orders in the church, and those acted for amusement by these or by laymen in the streets and on the greens. And it is safe to say that as soon as a play became more amusing than edifying, it fell under the censure of the church. This happened as early as 1210, when a decretal of Innocent III. forbade the acting of ludi theatrales in churches. Indeed much earlier, for Tertullian and St. Augustine and the Councils had consistently condemned the performances of histriones, mimi, lusores, and others who perpetuated the traditions of the pagan Roman stage. In 1227 the Council of Treves took such action. Gregory IX. attempted to put a stop to the growing participation of the clergy, "lest the honour of the church should be defiled by these shameful practices."[8] And during the succeeding decades more than one Synod issued orders of the same tenor. Now, even though it is practically certain that these fulminations were directed against perversions of divine worship, mock festivals and profane plays with the monstrous disguisings or mummings involved,[9] there is also no doubt that the prohibition came speedily to apply to the use of masks and other disguises in sacred plays, and then to the presentation of plays in church for any other than devotional purposes. Such for instance was the animus with which William of Wadington, in the Manuel des Pechiez, about 1235, called attention to the scandal of the foolish clergy who, in disguise, acted miracles 'ky est defendu en decré.' To play the Resurrection in church, pur plus aver devociun, was permissible; but to gather assemblies in the streets of the cities after dinner, when fools more readily congregate, that was a sacrilege. At this early date, we may be sure that the kind of drama which was extruded from the church had already invested such of its subjects as were biblical or legendary with the realistic and comic qualities which made for popularity, and so was fitting itself for adoption by the crafts. Indeed, we are told by a thirteenth-century historian of the Church of York,[10] that, at a date which must be set near 1220, there was a representation as usual of the Lord's Ascension by masked performers, in words and acting; and that a large crowd of both sexes was assembled, led there by different impulses, some by mere pleasure and wonder, others for a religious purpose. This was the play in the churchyard of St. John's, Beverley, to which I have referred before. The miracula of the story cited by Wright[11] and conjecturally assigned to the thirteenth century, had also passed beyond the sheer didactic stage, for the auditors, who resorted to the spectacle in the "meadow above the stream," expressed their appreciation nunc silentes nunc cachinnantes. When, after the reinstitution of the festival of Corpus Christi, in 1311, these plays began to be a function of the gilds, their secularization, even though the clerks still participated in the acting, was but a question of time; and the occasional injection of crude comedy was a natural response to the civic demand. It would be erroneous, however, to imagine that the church abandoned the drama when the town took it up: the church maintained a liturgical drama, in some places, until well into the sixteenth century; and as late as 1572 individual clergymen are condemned for playing interludes in churches.[12]

If the writers of saints' plays, with their attempt to satisfy the yearning for ideal freedom which is natural in all times and places, took, in their fictions of the religious-marvellous, a step towards what may be called romantic comedy,—a step no less important, though nowadays often unnoticed, was taken toward the comedy of ridicule, satire, and burlesque, at a date quite as remote, by the contrivers of religious parodies. It is curious, though not at all unnatural, that some of the earliest efforts at comic entertainment should proceed from the revolt against ecclesiastical formality and constraint. I cannot in this place do more than remind the reader of the antiquity of three of the most notable of these dramatic travesties: the Feast of Fools, the election of the Boy Bishop, and the Feast of the Ass. The first of these was celebrated on the Continent as early as 1182, one may say with reasonable certainty, 990. It is indeed more than a conjecture that the Feasts of Fools and the Ass inherited the license of the Roman Saturnalia, the season and spirit of which were assimilated by the Christian Feast of the Nativity. Whether adopted by the church in its effort to conciliate paganism, or tolerated for reasons of secular policy, these mock-religious festivals were soon the Frankenstein of Christianity; and it was doubtless against them rather than the seductions of the sacred drama that most of the ecclesiastical prohibitions of the Middle Ages were aimed. With its necessary comic accessories, the Feast of Fools was well established in England before 1226, and it was still flourishing in 1390 when Courtney forbade its performance in London. "The vicars," he said, "and clerks dressed like laymen, laughed, shouted, and acted plays which they commonly and fitly called the Feast of Fools." They travestied the dignitaries of the church, they turned the service inside out, put obscenity for sanctity and blasphemy for prayer. While it does not appear that in England, as on the Continent,[13] the procession of the Boy Bishop was attended with frivolity or profanity, it was certainly celebrated with mummings and plays of suitable kind, not altogether serious. This ceremony dates as far back as St. Nicholas day, 1229, and was still to the fore in 1556. The Feast of the Ass appears to have been recognized by the church as early as the Feast of Fools. I do not know when it was introduced into England, but it was played upon Palm Sunday as late as the middle of the sixteenth century. In France it had been notoriously wanton since the beginning of the thirteenth; and it could not exist anywhere without promoting the spirit of burlesque and farce. Although the initial purpose of these festivals was to satirize the hierarchy and ecclesiastical convention, they applied themselves after they had been repudiated by the church to the ridicule of social folly in general; and, according to the descriptions of Warton, Douce, Hone, Klein, Petit de Julleville, and others, they came to be a vivid interpreter of the popular consciousness, a most potent educator of critical insight and dramatic instinct, an incitement to artistic even though naïve productivity. In France, indeed, the Fraternities of Fools produced national satirists and dramatic professionals in one. In England, if they did nothing else, they helped to stimulate a taste for realistic and satiric drama.