If Udall had been merely a pedantic schoolmaster, one of whose duties it was to superintend an annual Christmas play, he would have been satisfied with an adaptation of—let us say—the Miles Gloriosus, or he would merely have translated the Miles as the Andria had been translated before; perhaps he would even have been satisfied with a performance of the play in the Latin. On the other hand, had he never been obliged to drill boys in Terence, his plays would have remained "interludes" of the old type, and at best, he would now receive honourable mention by the side of Heywood. It was his very position as teacher of the classics, his humanism (apart from the annual necessity of advising the "enterluders" at Christmas time) which must have pointed out to him the way in which the "enterlude" might be outgrown, the way that would lead to a new category of plays: the "comedy."

Udall (if the prologue to Roister Doister is his own, as we have no reason to doubt)[317] seems to have been somewhat doubtful at first about the designation of his play; he calls it at the beginning "thys enterlude"; but he realized the new departure which he had taken, and calls it later "Our Comedie or Enterlude." By the use of this word,—the first time applied correctly to an English comedy,—Udall indicates his aspirations, his sources and classical models: those plays which were the comedies par excellence, the comedies of Terence, and—especially since the discovery of the twelve "new" plays in 1429—those of Plautus. Udall shows himself a genuine disciple of the Renaissance; he "imitates" in that true way in which "imitation" has always ultimately proved "originality": he shows that he had absorbed the spirit of the Roman comedy, that he fully understood the easy movement, the sparkling and refined dialogue, the succinct but full delineation of character, and the clear development of a plot. But besides all this he possessed enough patriotic feeling not to overlook the merits of the modest national "interlude" of England. He did not too anxiously avoid carrying out here and there even a farcical motive; but with the higher ideal before him, he succeeded in fusing the classical and the national elements into a new category, becoming thus the father of English comedy.

Udall's position appears clearly if one compares his work with Gammer Gurtons Nedle on the one hand, and—regarding them as a type—with Heywood's farces on the other.

The good taste and higher art of Roister Doister are at once evident: the play is free from the undeniable vulgarity of Gammer Gurton, and in delineation of character is distinctly superior. The plot, simple as it is, is never as meagre as in the clever dialogues of Heywood; and as much as Udall surpasses Heywood in construction of the plot, I think he surpasses him in delineation of character. For even if, as Ward says,[318] in Heywood's witty plays, the "personified abstractions" of the moralities have been entirely superseded by "personal types," these personal types have not yet matured into individual persons, into men of flesh and blood, as they have in Udall's play.

I take, of course, for granted Udall's absolute superiority over that category of interludes which—bastards of the "Moralities"—seem to have had no other purpose than to introduce dogmatical moralizations, seasoned perhaps with a tavern scene or with some other farcical coarseness, and at best ending with an "unmotived" conversion of the sinner or sinners.

Plot and Characters.—Udall's plot is so simple that its development becomes clear at a glance; it consists of the unsuccessful wooing of Ralph Roister Doister for the hand of Dame Christian Custance, evolved amid various entanglements, and ultimately unsuccessful, not so much because Custance is at the time of Roister's first advances already engaged to another man, as because Roister's folly is so enormous that no success can be possible.

Now the figure of an avowed fool in love would give excellent scenes for a farce, but would not yield the complications of character and situation necessary for a comedy; and in order to bring about this essential complexity, there is introduced a second motive for action in this fool's own character,—that of vainglory. There is also introduced a personage who shall season the play by his wit and produce the necessary entanglements. This is Mathew Merygreeke, who grows gradually under the poet's hands, until he occupies the most prominent place in the play, at least as far as our interest in the different characters is concerned. Despite all that has been said to the contrary, Merygreeke is Udall's own creation,—a figure in itself deserving of high praise. Undoubtedly this character was at first conceived as a mere modern parasite, of a much higher type, however, than the Sempronio, for instance (in Calisto and Meliboea), but as the play advanced the figure outgrew its original limits, and although in the first scenes Merygreeke is scarcely out of the eggshell of the parasite, he proves very soon to be a new character: a character belonging to the class of Pandarus, a "Friend" playing the part of kindly Fate, a Vice certainly mischievous and cruel enough, but directing everything to a good end; as full of humour and fun as of character, and, at the bottom of his heart, of good-nature.

Merygreeke comes indeed to Roister at first "for his stomach's sake" and wants a new coat, but he has on the whole only a few traits of the parasite,[319] and these might be left out without injuring the play in the least. As soon as he sees Roister in love, his humour gains the upper hand; he realizes at once what a capital source of fun this "love" on the part of a vain fool might become, and he determines to bring about such complications as will yield the greatest quantity of amusement. His purpose may, indeed, at first have been merely egotistical, to have the fun himself; but he is forgiven because all the other persons of the play—as well as the audience—are liberally invited to the feast. Merygreeke may appear at times as a false friend and thus as an immoral character, but his flattery is so exaggerated, his lies are so improbable, so enormous, so amusing to all sane people,—Roister so fully deserves (indeed provokes) the cruel treatment,—that any possible wrath of a moralizing censor is entirely disarmed. Supreme folly stands outside the common moral order of things. Even if Merygreeke had not disclosed his motives, we could see from the respect which is shown him by Custance and Trusty, that he is far from being a treacherous parasite. And after all he does not betray his friend. He rather helps him to what he really desires. And what Roister most desires in this world is, after all, not the possession of the fair widow, but the satisfaction of his vanity. How quickly does he forget his love in the delusion fostered by Merygreeke, that Goodluck and Custance desire to live in peace with him because they fear him. The lie is in harmony with poetic justice.

Merygreeke has been characterized[320] as "the Artotrogos of Plautus, the standing figure of the parasite of the Greek new comedy and its Latin reproductions." But, though Merygreeke was doubtless originally planned as the parasite of the play, and though here and there to the very end of the play we find allusions which corroborate this, I note, first, that the classical parasite[321] lacks the element of modern humour, of witty but, after all, good-natured enjoyment of the mischief which he stirs up; secondly, that Merygreeke is free from endless and—to us—tedious allusions to the "stomach"; and, thirdly, from the vulgar, and almost uninteresting, selfishness, revealed in such words as these of Gnatho: