This play, currently known as ‘Abraham,’ but which would be more fitly named ‘Maria,’ marks the climax of Hrotsvith’s power. In form it preserves the simple directness of the classic model, in conception it embodies the moral ideals of Christian teaching.
The last two plays of Hrotsvith are chiefly of historical interest for the learned disquisitions they contain; their dramatic value is comparatively small, and many of the scenes are in a way repetitions of scenes in other plays. In ‘Paphnutius’ we again have the story of a penitent woman, the hetaira Thais, who lived in the 6th century, but whose conversion has little of the interest which attaches to that of Maria. In ‘Sapientia’ we have a succession of scenes of martyrdom which recall those of the play ‘Dulcetius.’ The Lady Sapientia and her three daughters Fides, Spes and Caritas are put to death by order of the Emperor Hadrian, but the horrors of the situation are relieved by no minor incidents. The learned disquisitions in these plays are however extremely curious because they show on the one hand what store Hrotsvith set on learning, and on the other they give an idea of the method of study pursued at Gandersheim in those days.
The play ‘Paphnutius[506]’ opens with passages which Hrotsvith probably adapted from two works of Boëthius: ‘On the teaching of Aristotle,’ and ‘On the study of music[507].’ The philosopher Paphnutius dilates to his assembled pupils on man as the microcosm (minor mundus) who reflects in himself the world, which is the macrocosm (major mundus), and then explains that there is antagonism in the world, which is striving for concord in accordance with the rules of harmony. He explains how a similar antagonism exists in man and is represented by body and soul, which can also be brought into agreement. These thoughts, he says, have been suggested to him by the life of the hetaira Thais whose body and soul are ever at variance. Paphnutius further enlarges on the higher course of study known as the ‘quadrivium’ which includes arithmetic, geometry, music and astronomy[508], and discourses about music and the influence of harmony. His pupils, however, object to being taken along such devious paths and having such knotty questions propounded to them, and at last they quote Scripture in defence of their ignorance, saying that God has chosen the foolish that he may confound the wise. This rouses indignation in Paphnutius, who declares that ‘he who advocates falsehood, be he a fool or a learned man, deserves to be confounded by God.’ And he further utters words which are not devoid of a deeper significance: ‘It is not the knowledge that man can grasp which is offensive to God, but the conceit of the learned.’
The learned disquisitions of the play ‘Sapientia’ are presented in a form still less attractive[509]. The Lady Sapientia, who speaks of herself as one of noble stock, and as the descendant of Greek princes, dilates on the relative value of numbers[510] to the emperor Hadrian till he tires of it and commands her to be gone.
It is sometimes alleged that these two later plays were the productions of earlier years, and that the nun added them to her other more finished productions in order to equal the number of the plays of Terence. However this may be, they were probably the two plays which she submitted to the criticism of three outside but now unknown patrons with a letter in which she states that she has taken threads and pieces from the garment of philosophy to add to the worth of her work. We render this letter in full, since it throws an interesting light on what Hrotsvith thought of her own powers. If it brought advice which led to the composition of the other plays, we must commend the judgment of those who counselled her. But it is just possible that the approval which was accorded to the legends was denied to the plays,—the absence of the name of the abbess Gerberg in connection with them is remarkable,—and that, after writing a number of dramas which found no appreciation, Hrotsvith was moved to compose ‘Paphnutius’ and ‘Sapientia,’ introducing learned disquisitions in hope of giving them a more solid value.
The letter runs as follows:
‘To you, learned men[511], who abide in wisdom and are unenvious of another’s progress and well-disposed towards him as befits the truly learned, I, Hrotsvith, though I am unlearned and lacking in thoroughness, address myself; I wish you health and unbroken prosperity. I cannot sufficiently admire your great condescension, and sufficiently thank you for the help of your liberal generosity and for your kindness towards me; you, who have been trained in the study of philosophy and have perfected yourselves in the pursuit of knowledge, have held my writings, those of a lowly woman, worthy of admiration, and have praised with brotherly affection the power which works in me. You have declared that there is in me a certain knowledge of that learning (scientiam artium) the essence of which is beyond my woman’s understanding. Till now I have dared to show my rude productions only to a few of my nearest friends, and my work along these lines would probably have ceased, for there were few who understood my intentions, and fewer who could point out to me in what I had failed, and who urged me to persevere. But now that threefold approval comes to me from you I take confidence and feel strengthened by your encouragement to devote my energies to work where God permits, and to submit this work to the criticism of those who are learned. And yet I am divided between joy and fear, which contend within me; for in my heart I rejoice, praising God through whose grace alone I have become what I am; and yet I am fearful of appearing greater than I am, being perplexed by two things both of which are wrong, namely the neglect of talents vouchsafed to one by God, and the pretence to talents one has not. I cannot deny that through the help of the Creator I have acquired some amount of knowledge, for I am a creature capable of learning, but I acknowledge there is ignorance in me. For I am divinely gifted with abilities, but were it not for the untiring zeal of my teachers, they would have remained undeveloped and unused through my want of energy (pigritia). Lest this gift of God in me should be wasted through neglect I have sought to pluck threads and pieces from the garments of philosophy, and have introduced them into my afore-mentioned work (praefato opusculo), so that my own moderate knowledge may be enhanced by the addition of their greater worth, and God, who grants power, may be praised by so much the more as a woman’s power is held to be inferior. This is the object of my writing, this alone the purpose of my exertions, for I do not conceal from myself that I am ignorant, and had it depended on myself alone, I should know nothing. But as you urge me on by the possibility of your approval and by your request proffered to me in writing, I now submit to your criticism this little work which I wrote with the intention of sending it to you but which I have hitherto kept concealed on account of its demerits, hoping you will study it with the intention of improving it as though it were your own work. And when you have altered it to a correct standard, send it back to me so that I may profit by your teaching in those points in which I may have largely failed.’
The productions of Hrotsvith in the domain of contemporary history consist of a poem on the emperor Otto the Great, and a history of the monastery of Gandersheim. The history of Otto is thought to have been over sixteen hundred lines in length[512], but only a fragment of about nine hundred lines is preserved. The nun received the materials for this history chiefly if not exclusively by word of mouth from the abbess Gerberg, whose family feeling it seems to reflect in various particulars, for among other distinctive traits, the quarrel between the father of Gerberg and his brother the emperor is passed over; it is rather a history of the members of the ruling family than a description of contemporary events[513]. This detracts from its historic, though hardly from its poetical value, which is considerable. Some of the episodes, such as that of the imprisonment and flight of Queen Adelheid in Italy, are admirably told. Adelheid was the widow of the king of the Langobards, and was afterwards married to Otto I. Her flight and imprisonment in Italy previous to her second marriage are unrecorded except by Hrotsvith.
The last work of the nun was probably that on the foundation and early history of Gandersheim, in which, as in the history of Otto, Hrotsvith enlarges more on persons than on events, and gives a detailed account of Duke Liudolf, his wife and daughters. Many details referred to above, in our chapter on the early history of the settlement, are taken from this account, which is in many ways the most finished and beautiful of Hrotsvith’s compositions.
The interest in Hrotsvith’s writings lay dormant for several centuries. It was revived at the close of the 15th century when the learned abbot Tritheim wrote of her, and the poet Celtes caused her dramas to appear in print. During the last thirty years many writers have treated of her, an appreciative and attractive account of her was written by Köpke[514], and different views have been expressed as to her merits as a poet, a dramatist and a historian[515]. Whatever place be ultimately assigned to Hrotsvith, the reader of her writings cannot fail to be attracted by her modesty, her perseverance, her loftiness of thought, and the directness of purpose which underlies all her work. She stands nearly alone in Saxony, and by her very solitariness increases our respect for her powers, and for the system of education which made the development of these powers possible.