T H E P E R S O N I F I C A T I O N OF DEATH IN

MIDDLE ENGLISH LITERATURE

APPROVED:

Major Professor

Minor Professor

/$. /yistLsi. C o n s u l t i n g Professor

? -s Chairman of the Department of English

Dearf of the Graduate School

THE PERSONIFICATION OF DEATH IN

MIDDLE ENGLISH LITERATURE

THESIS

Presented to the Graduate Council of the

North Texas State University in Partial

Fulfillment of the Requirements

For the Deqree of

MASTER OF ARTS

By

Judith G. Humphries, B. A.

Denton , Texas

May, 1970

TABLE OF CONTENTS

C h a p t e r . Page

I . DEATH IN THE MIDDLE AGES . . . 1

I I . DANCE OF DEATH . 2 0

I I I . MORAL PLAYS 41

I V . THE PARDONER'S TALE . 59

V. CONCLUSION ' 78

BIBLIOGRAPHY . 8 1

i i i

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Figure . , Page

1 . Dancing Death v

IV

If / N\i#

>

W Ml kl:'% I p V / / . ,) h -A •f \7A

1/

-C^v,

F i g . 1 - - D a n e i rig Death

CHAPTER I

DEATH IN THE MIDDLE AGES

Middle English literature is no exception to the rule

that a study of any literature depends a great deal on the

historical backgrounds of its period. This study, which

concentrates specifically on the personi fi cati on of death

in Mi ddle English literature, requi res a knowledge of the

extent to which the people in all of Western Europe were

concerned with death during every day > every moment, of

their lives.

For thi s study, the commonly accepted dates for the

later Middle Ages will be used, 1150 to 1500. These are

the dates of a peri od in whi ch reli gi on was the most notable

feature. In all the Christian world of the Middle Ages, the

church held unchallenged dominion over all aspects of life, 1

and the powers of the next world were held supreme over the

real world. More certai n than anything in the visible world

were the conflicts between God and the Devil, angels and demons,

and between the saved and the damned.^ The church kept constantly

before every man, woman, and child the idea that the world-to-

come was of chief importance, that the world in which they lived

was useless and barren and only a means to achieve a better

1F. J. C. Hearnshaw, ed i tor. Medieval Contributions to Modern Civilization (New York, 19497s P• 28.

^Ibid. , p. 39. ^Ihi d.

1

w o r l d a f t e r d e a t h . T h e y w e r e not a l l o w e d for o n e m o m e n t to

f o r g e t the j o y s of H e a v e n or the t o r t u r e s of Hell , the o n l y

a l t e r n a t i v e s . T h e y w e r e t a u g h t that t h e i r e a r t h l y e x i s t e n c e

w a s m e r e "trial and p r e p a r a t i o n f o r the f u t u r e , w h i c h m i g h t

d e s c e n d u p o n m a n k i n d at any m o m e n t in the f u r y of the J u d g m e n t

D a y . " A g l a n c e at a l m o s t any m e d i e v a l s c u l p t u r e or m u r a l will

r e v e a l the a t t i t u d e of the a g e , a p e r i o d w h e n art s e r v e d as a

r e m i n d e r of m a n ' s v u l n e r a b i l i t y . All s e r m o n s w e r e d e s i g n e d for

one p u r p o s e : to r e m i n d m a n k i n d of his i n e v i t a b l e e n d . As a

r e s u l t of t h i s c o n s t a n t t e a c h i n g , a m a n ' s c h i e f t a s k in l i f e

b e c a m e the p r e p a r a t i o n for e t e r n i t y .

Th e c h a r a c t e r i s t i c lack of s c i e n t i f i c e x p e r i m e n t and

e x p l o r a t i o n in m e d i e v a l E n g l a n d can be t r a c e d to t h i s p r e o c -

c u p a t i o n w i t h the o t h e r - w o r l d l y . ^ S c i e n t i f i c t h e o r y , b a s e d on

t r a d i t i o n , d e p e n d e d upon' the c l a s s i c a l a u t h o r s , e s p e c i a l l y

A r i s t o t l e , for m o s t of its s o u r c e m a t e r i a l . T h e c h u r c h was

o f t e n the e n e m y of o r i g i n a l i t y in r e s e a r c h and l e a r n i n g , p e r s e -

c u t i n g t h o s e w h o d a r e d to e x p e r i m e n t . One e x a m p l e of t h i s is

R o g e r B a c o n of O x f o r d , w h o is c o n s i d e r e d to h a v e b e e n the one

o r i g i n a l s t u d e n t of s c i e n c e d u r i n g the M i d d l e A g e s . He l i v e d

d u r i n g the r e i g n of H e n r y I I I , and s p e n t the last p a r t of

^ G e o r g e B. W o o d s and o t h e r s , e d i t o r s , T h e L i t e r a t u r e of E n g l a n d : An A n t h o l o g y and H i s t o r y , I ( C h i c a g o / 19^"8T7~2 Vol's. , 75

^ I b i d.

^ G . G. C o u l t o n , T h e Medi eval S c e n e : An I n f o r m a l I_n t ro --d u c t i o n to the M i d d l e A g e s ( C a m b r i d g e , 1 9 3 0 7 , P. 16.

^ I b i d. , p. 15.

his life in prison for his experiments, which had offended

the church.^

These general tendencies of society to concentrate on

death and minimize the importance of living can be seen in

the development of medieval English society. Anglo-Saxon

civilization before the Norman Conquest had been that of

warrior and priest. After the Normans conquered England,

this society was replaced by the feudal system, a system

under which every acre of land and every person in the king™ Q

dom belonged to the king. Under the Normans the Anglo-

Saxon "earl" became the knightly "baron," and a "churl" became

a "serf," or "villein," both subordinate to the king. This

system made the king the owner and ruler of all E n g l a n d . ^

He distributed his kingdom among his most deserving nobles

and expected them to repay his favor in the forms of money

and other tangible recompense, such as military service,

whether for defense or aggression.^ Those nobles thus

honored, in turn sub-distributed their assigned lands among

lesser noblemen, requiring of these the same services for

which they were obligated to the king. In a feudal society,

then, everyone except the king owed tangible recompense as

well as obedience to an earthly overlord. The king himself

. F. Salzman, Enqlish Life in the Middle Ages (London, 1950) , p. 182. - -

^Woods, p. 74. 1Qlbid.

1 1 1 b i d . , p. 75.

4

was obligated for spiritual homage to the worldly sovereign

of Chri stendom, the Pope, In effect, then, the Pope was the 1 9

overlord of all duri ng the Middle Ages.

In medieval England the class structure was simple

enough, nobleman and serf. However, one further distinction

was made between clergy and laity, though the dividing lines

were not always clearly drawn. In these two divisions there

were corresponding levels: the Pope and king were in similar

positions; the prelates, that is bi shops, abbots, and priors,

had corresponding rank with the noblemen; the regular clergy,

that is monks and friars, were in similar pos i ti ons with the

very small, but emerging, class of traders; and the parish

priests and chaplains were similar in posi ti on to the

laboring serfs.^ 3 So, when one speaks of a simple class structure

of noblemen and serfs, he is including the clergy in their

various clas s i fi cati ons. Thi s structure was existent for a

long time after the Norman Conquest. Then, about the middle

of the thirteenth century, as industry and commerce gradually

became more important, changing the prevailing agricultural

scheme, commoners, or serfs, occasionally were able to rise

above the masses, either by accumulation of wealth or by

becoming freemen as recompense for some special service to a

feudal l o r d . ^ This slow process gradually began to change

English society.

^ Ib i d. 1 Sal zman , p . 33 .

1^Woods, p. 76.

As England became more industrial, the importance of

cities grew, and tradesmen became more powerful and more

numerous. An increase in industry and commerce created a

middle class, which before the end of the thirteenth

century had not existed. The gradual development of the

middle class culminated in its being represented in the

Great Council of Parliament of 1295, in a separate house

1 5

from the House of Lords, the House of Commons.

As the class of tradesmen developed, so did their

organi zati on. They learned that they were more effective

socially and in their trades if they were banded together

according to trade; thus were formed guilds, organizations

which, as we shall see later, came to play a significant

role in the development of medieval drama.1 6

The feudal system was based on the issuance of land in

exchange for pledges of military and monetary returns, a

necessity for one major reason, to protect the king and

his noblemen in time of war. Fighting was the profession

of the upper classes, so there was always a war. It was

part of the normal condition of life in the Middle Ages, not

unusual or alarmi ng, though always brutal and costly in terms

of human life. Medieval warfare, with its seemingly romantic

array of swords, shields, and arrows, was devastating to that

majority of soldiers who could not afford heavy armour. 1 5 I b i d . 1 6Ibi d.

^ S a l z m a n , p. 86

Even for the wealthier soldiers who had armour, war was

incredibly cruel because weapons more often maimed and crippled

rather than k i l l e d . ^ Often, when more soldiers were needed

than the nobles could accumulate from their lands, the prisons

were emptied of the healthier, sturdier inmates. It is recorded

that in a single year Edward I pardoned 450 murderers for

mi 1i tary servi ce , along with countless lesser offenders.^

Then, as well as now, organized arid casual forms of cruelty

were very much a part of war, and war was very much a part of

life. The nearness of war with its death tolls and cruelties

is one factor contributing to the preoccupation of the people

of the Middle Ages with death and the afterlife.

Another factor contributing to this preoccupation was

the religious teaching of the time. People of the Middle

Ages relied, for social -stability, on the authority of the

church as the basis for all thoughts and a c t i o n . ^ 0 The

medieval church constantly impressed upon Christians the

belief that the only reason for living was that it offered

time to search for salvation and to prepare for death, which,

if one were saved, would transfer him to a better world. The

fact that a man might at any moment be smi tten with unbearable ? 1

pain or even snatched from life could not be ignored. This

was perhaps one of the reasons for such a strong belief in the

^ J o a n Evans, editor, The F1oweri ng of the Middle Ages (New Y o r k , 1 9 6 6 ) , p . 2 0 8 .

1 9Salzman , p. 198. 2 0 W o o d s , p. 75.

^ E v a n s , p. 208.

physical reality of a Hell-fire which the lurid eschatology

of the medieval church proclaimed. So far as Heaven and Hell

were concerned, the Bible was accepted in its strictest

literal sense. 2 2 The medieval Christian believed that hi s

des ti ny for all etern i ty was determined by his spiritual ?'3

state at the moment of death. He might either be marked

for an eternity of unspeakable bliss or of torment beyond mortal

conception, depending on his religious or theological belief

at his last moment. Consequently, every person hoped that

when he died it would be with Christ's name on his lips. To.

the medieval Christian, then, the whole earth was Death's

ki ngdom " . . . and human life, with its ambi ti ons and struggles

was only a macabre dance that led to the grave." 2^

Part of the reason for the belief in the imminent

approach of death can be found in the conditions of society.

As a result of their worldly ways, people of the Middle Ages

seemed always tormented by God with one punishment or another.

Epidemic sickness was well known in England in the Middle Ages.

The great famine of 1315 and 1316 was followed by one pestilence

after another, so that the Black Death of 1348 and 1349, in

which two-fifths of the population are said to have perished, 2^

seemed just another, if more deadly plague, in a long chain of

epi demi cs.26 2 2Coulton , p. 18. 2 31bi d. , p. 20. 2^Evans, p. 206. 2^Vioods, p. 76.

2^Kenneth H. Vickers, Engl and i n the Later Mi ddl e Ages (London, 1921), p. 183.

8

Cities and towns had no systems of sanitation; consequently

when an isolated case of a contagious disease occurred, it

quickly spread to all parts of the town. When the plague was

brought to England in 1348, the dead were at first buried as

usual, but as the number of deaths increased so rapidly, the

bodies were carried in carts and buried in mass graves or

9 7

merely abandoned by those fearing contamination. Mortality

was highest among the poor and among the clergy, who were

probably infected while tending the dying or d e a d . T h e old

and infirm were seemingly immune, while the young and strong. 29

were among the hardest hit. During the plague years, when

death was so constant and real, fantasies concerning death

multiplied, the products of strained imaginations.^® These

fantasies showed up most in the art works in which individuals

were depicted in various stages of decomposition, a reminder

of what death held in store for all. Perhaps visual represent-

ation made the dreadful nightmare easier to face.

There were other cruelties besides disease. Children

often died very young as a result of exposure or under-

nourishment. Many who survived childhood were deformed

because of the poor conditions they had endured. Another

threat to life was the medical practice of the time. If one

were fortunate enough to be wealthy, but unfortunate enough

to contact some disease, his chance for survival was slim 2 7 Evans , p. 209. ^ V i c k e r s , p. 183

2 9 1 b i d . 3 ° E v a n s , p t 2 3 0 .

if doctors were called in and paid to cure him. A poor man

with a mild disease who could not afford professional medical

treatment was probably more likely to recover. In addition to

1 ess harmful preliminary remedies, doctors frequently performed

surgery, which was certain to involve intolerable pain and was

31 unlikely to be successful. During these times pain, peril,

and death were ever-present compani ons of all levels of society 32

life was hard and short.

The Black Death of 1348 and 1349 had two opposite effects

on the minds of m e n : in hopeless abandon, some turned to

worldly wickedness; others turned in desperation and fear to

a more serious concern with religion. 3 , 3 After the universal

terror of the plague, one of many religious movements began in

Flanders, and later was brought to England. This was the

movement of the Flagellants, who believed that God had sent

his judgment and punishment upon man in the form of the

plague and that only desperate measures, in this case self-O A

torture, could save men from the ravages of the judgment.

The constant presence and threat of death caused a

turning to the church for explanation and rationalization.

Clergymen met this challenge with vivid biblical descriptions

Ibid. , p. 209. ' ^ H e a r n s h a w , p. 39.

3 3 S a 1zm a n , p. 110. a Sidney Painter, A History of the Middle Ages: 284-

T500 (New York, 1953), p." 419. (Sin'ce "m 0sif EngTishmen considered them religious madmen, the Flagellants' numbers never grew very large in England, according to Vickers, p. 186.)

10

of the next w o r l d , both P a r a d i s e and Hell. From Dan M i c h e l ' s

A-^enbite of I n w y t , a h o m i l y of about 1 340 , we read this

d e s c r i p t i o n of P a r a d i s e :

Todel -pine gost urain -pine bo dye / be f o-jte / and be w y l n i n g e . guo out of ^ i s e w o r d l e s t e r u i n d e . guo i n-to ye 1 onde of fe 1 i b b y n d e / iper non ne s terf [fj / ne yeal dep. fet is ine p a r a d y s . f e r me lyerne?wel to 1i bbe / and wyt / an c o r t e y s y e . nor f e r ne may guo in: no u y l e y n y e . -per is b l i s f o l l e u e l a ^ r e d e of god. and of a n g l e s , and of hal-^en. f e r o p w e x e p alle g u o d e s . u a y r h e d e . r i c h e s s e . w o r p s s i p e . bliisse. u i r t u e . lone, w y t . ioye w y f o u t e ende. -per ne is non y p o c r i s e . ne b a r a t . ne b l o n d i n g e . ne d i s c o r d , ne e n u y e . ne honger. ne -porst. ne hete. ne chele. ne kuead. ne zor-je. ne drede of v y e n d e s . ac al rieway festes and kinges bredal es. z o n g e s . and b l i s s e w y p o u t e ende. [ S e p a r a t e thy soul from thy body by t h o u g h t and by d e s i r e . Go out of this' w o r l d d y i n g ; go into the land of the living w h e r e none die or grow old. That is in p a r a d i s e ; w h e r e one learns to live well in w i s d o m and c o u r t e s y . For there no v i l l a i n y m a y e n t e r ; there is blissful f e l l o w s h i p of God and angels and s a i n t s . There springs up all g o o d n e s s , b e a u t y , r i c h e s , worshi p , b l i s s , v i r t u e , 1ove , w i s d o m , and joy w i t h o u t end. There is n e i t h e r h y p o c r i s y , f r a u d , f 1 a t t e r y , di scord , erivy, h u n g e r , t h i r s t , h e a t , c h i l l , e v i l , s o r r o w , or dread of e n e m i e s ; but always feasts ^5 and the b r i d a l s of k i n g s , songs and bliss w i t h o u t e n d . ]

The i n d u c e m e n t s used w e r e not always of such a p o s i t i v e

n a t u r e as t h i s , h o w e v e r . Men were also w a r n e d a g a i n s t w h a t

they w o u l d find if their lives had not been good e n o u g h to

m e r i t an e t e r n i t y of p a r a d i s e . In an early h o m i l y e n t i t l e d

S a w l e s W a r d e , the f o l l o w i n g d e s c r i p t i o n of Hell a p p e a r s . The

s p e a k e r is F e a r , the R e m i n d e r of D e a t h :

3 5 Dan M i c h e l , A.jenbi te of In w y t , or R e m o r s e of Consci ence ( L o n d o n , 1 8 9 5 ) , pp. 7T~-T5.~ This "and f ol 1 owing t r a n s l a t i o n s into m o d e r n E n g l i s h are my own.

n

Helle is wyd / wy-p-oute metirige. dyep / wyf-oute botino. Vol of brene on-"j?olynde. Vol of stenche / wy-oute comparisoun. -per is zor-^e. ^?er is ^yesternesse. -per ne is non ordre. -per is groniynge wyf-oute ende. -per ne is non hope of guode. non v/antrokiynge of kueade. Ech -pet e r i nne is: hatef him zelue: arid all e 0"pren. •per i ch yze*, alle many ere tormens. -pe Teste of a 11 e / is more ^anne alle -pe pynen yet moje by y-do i ne yise word! e. -per is wop. and grindinge of t e f . -per me ge-p uram chele in to greate hete of uere. and buofe onpolyi nde. -pere alle be uere / ssolle by uorbernd. [Hell is wide without measure, deep without bottom, full of intolerable fire, full of stench without comparison. There is no order s and there is groaning without end. There is no hope of good and no lack of evil. Each one therein hates himself and al1 others. I saw all manner of torments. The least of them all is more than all the torments that may be done in this world. There is weeping and gnashing of teeth. There I went from chill into great heat of fire and both intolerable. There all shall be consumed by fi re.

Belief in a phys i cal paradi se in the next world or in

the physical tortures of Hell-fire provided the subject for a

yast number of literary works. This was not the only theme,

however; the 1i terature of the later Middle Ages was varied

in nature, with various subjects and forms belonging exclu-

sively to particular levels of society.

The knights and their ladies had their forms of litera-

ture, the courtly lyric and the metri cal romance, such as

the Arthurian legends. The clergy used exempla or stories

to enliven almost al1 of their sermons, and they eventually

developed a kind of moral romance or anti-romance, such as

tales of the quest for the Holy Grail from whi ch the saintly

Sir Galahad emerged as the personification of a spiritual

idea. They also had drama, saints' lives, hymns, and debates,

36 l b i d . , pp. 264-265

12

as well as prose homilies. The common folk had their popular

ballads and 1ai s, their narrative folk songs, and the f a b l i a u . ^

Another important part of the literature of the common people

was medieval drama, which had emerged from its beginnings in

the church.

At its beginning, English medieval drama was entirely

sacred and didactic. There was no dramatic structure or

plot, only the enactment of some familiar episodes of

biblical lore. These brief enactments were used as a part

of the sermon on certain special occasions, such as Corpus

Christi Day, Christmas, and E a s t e r . ^ These first dramas

were enacted by priests who chanted in Latin at the base of

the chancel in the church. The audience consisted mainly of

commoners who did not understand Latin, but who were to

receive some spiritual up-lifting as a result of the dramatic

action which accompanied the Latin chants. 3 9

Medieval drama evolved slowly into what have been later

called miracle and mystery plays. Miracle plays, dealing

with the lives of saints, naturally retained their religious

n a t u r e ; ^ however, the mystery plays underwent great changes.

As the enactments by the priests of the mystery plays

changed from a dignified and sacred mood to one of more

3?Woods, pp. 89 and 94.

3^Ibid . t p. 89. 3 9 1 b i d . , p. 90.

4°Hardi n Crai g , English Religious Drama of the Mi ddle Ages (Oxford, 1955), p. 346."

13

c o n t e m p o r a r y s p i r i t , the l a i t y s l o w l y b e g a n to t a k e the p l a c e

of the c l e r g y m e n , and the L a t i n c h a n t s w e r e c h a n g e d to the

v e r n a c u l a r . ^ G r a d u a l l y the p l a y s b e c a m e m o r e c o m i c and

s a t i r i c a l . T h e s t a g e w a s m o v e d f r o m i n s i d e the c h u r c h

to the m a r k e t p l a c e or a p u b l i c s q u a r e . T h e t r a d e s g u i l d s ,

w h i c h h a v e a l r e a d y b e e n m e n t i o n e d , g r a d u a l l y b e g a n to t a k e o v e r

e n a c t m e n t of the m y s t e r y p l a y s . In f a c t , the two m a i n f a c t o r s

c o n t r i b u t i n g to the d e v e l o p m e n t of E n g l i s h d r a m a d u r i n g the

thri t e e n t h , f o u r t e e n t h , and fi f t e e n t h c e n t u r i es w e r e the

i n c r e a s i n g i m p o r t a n c e of g u i l d s as the t o w n s g r e w l a r g e r and

the e s t a b l i s h m e n t by the C h u r c h of c e r t a i n f e s t i v a l d a y s such

A 9

as t h a t of C o r p u s C h r i s t i , w h i c h w a s e s t a b l i s h e d in 1 2 6 4 .

S i n c e C o r p u s C h r i s t i d a y fell in l a t e s p r i n g w h e n o u t d o o r

c e l e b r a t i o n s w e r e m o s t s u i t a b l e , d r a m a soon b e c a m e a p a r t of

t h e f e s t i v a l .

By the f o u r t e e n t h and f i f t e e n t h c e n t u r i e s the m y s t e r y

p l a y s had d e v e l o p e d i n t o s e r i e s , or c y c l e s , p e r f o r m e d by the

g u i l d s of a g i v e n t o w n . At this t i m e in E n g l a n d t h e r e w e r e

at l e a s t t h r e e m a j o r c y c l e s : the Y o r k , w i t h f o r t y - e i g h t p l a y s ;

the W a k e f i e l d , or T o w n e l e y , w i t h t h i r t y - t w o p l a y s ; and the

C h e s t e r , w i t h t w e n t y - f i v e p l a y s . ^ T h e p l a y s w e r e b a s e d on

b i b l i c a l s t o r i e s f r o m the Old and New T e s t a m e n t s . T h e y

w e r e e n a c t e d on f l a t w a g o n s c a l l e d p a g e a n t s , f r o m w h i c h is

4 1 W o o d s , p. 9 0 . 4 2Ibi_d. , p. 91.

4 3 1 b i d.

14

taken the m o d e r n name for the e n a c t m e n t of c e r t a i n biblical

44

s c e n e s .

M y s t e r y plays from Difcle s t o r i e s and m i r a c l e plays from

s a i n t s ' legends b e c a m e the two most w i d e s p r e a d and popular

forms of m e d i e v a l e n t e r t a i n m e n t , 4 ^ but there was another

kind of medi eval d r a m a w h i c h was a l l e g o r i c a l in n a t u r e and

was based on the t e a c h i n g s of the c l e r g y , p o s s i b l y g r o w i n g Afi

out of the h o m i l i e s . This was the morali ty pi ay, w h i c h

has been defined as ". . . the d r a m a t i c phase of m e d i e v a l

p r e a c h i n g and t e a c h i n g , for it p r e s e n t s the s t r u g g l e between

the f o r c e s of good and evil for the p r e c i o u s guerdon of man's

i m m o r t a l soul , and it is designed to assist the w a v e r i n g to

keep t h e i r feet in the s t r a i g h t and narrow way. . . ." 4

M o r a l i t y plays date only from the last of the f o u r t e e n t h

c e n t u r y and did not t h r i v e long beyond the f i f t e e n t h c e n t u r y .

The f o r m u l a for these a l l e g o r i e s was f a i r l y c o n s t a n t , with

only a few v a r i a t i o n s in their later y e a r s . T h e y d r a m a t i z e d

m a n ' s p r o g r e s s from the cradle to the grave and b e y o n d . The

basic f o r m u l a shows how man is born g r a c e l e s s and in sin; how

his mortal c a r e e r is a c o n s t a n t struggle a g a i n s t his human

f a i l i n g s . The c h a r a c t e r s are p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n s of such a b s t r a c t

q u a l i t i e s as v i r t u e s and v i c e s , and the hero always p r o g r e s s e s

t h r o u g h a s u c c e s s i o n of a d v a n c e s and r e p u l s e s . Death always 4/1 lb id. , p. 92.

4 ^ E . K. Chambers» The Medi eval Stage (Oxford, 1 903), p. 157

46Cra"i g , p. 345. 4 A i o o d s , p. S3 .

15

overtakes him, but in the end his soul is judged and saved

from eternal H e l l - f i r e . ^

Unlike the miracle plays, the morality plays have a

strong dramatic conflict, the struggle between good and evil

for the possession of man's soul. A direct relationship can

be seen between the morality plays and the drama of Sophocles

or later English drama of the Elizabethan s t a g e . ^ They all

deal with the same universal moral conf1i cts.

One of the most constant themes running through the

literature of the later Middle Ages is that of death. It can

be found in didactic tales written by the clergy, in Chaucer's

work, in medieval drama, and even in the lyrics. Perhaps the

knowledge of the nearness of death to the lives of medieval

people can help to explain the death theme in their literature.

Harder to explain is a recurrence of the more specific personi-

fication of death which appears in all forms of medieval

literature. One might expect to find death personified in

the moral plays, which are allegorical by nature and by defini

tion, but its appearance in poetry needs further examination.

There was perhaps a tendency during the Middle Ages for

men to think in allegorical terms in all aspects of life.

There are, in fact, some who would say that medieval poetry

is by nature allegorical because of this t e n d e n c y . ^ This is

48ibid.

^ F . 0. Snell, The Age of Chaucer, 1 346-1400 (London, 1926) , p. 96.

5°D..W. Robertson , A Preface to Chaucer: Studies i n Medi eval Perspectives (New Jersey, 1 962), p. 206.

16

indeed evident in most medieval poetry, from the earliest

lyrics to Chaucer's work. The most widely used form of death's

personification in medieval literature and the fine arts is

the Summons of Death theme, a motif based on the older French

and German versi ons of the Dance of Death, whi ch was itself

originally in Latin. The popular portrayal of the Dance of

Death was that of a skeleton, representing Death, playing a

fiddle, as emperor and commoner alike move uncontrollably to

his tune. This Dance of Death was to remi nd all that there

was no other tune to which one could ultimately dance; Death

had the only melody. This idea that Death mingles with all

sorts, from pope to commoner, had an irony about it which

appealed to fifteenth-centu.ry a r t i s t s . ^

Two of the medieval English lyrics in whi ch the Dance

of Death theme is developed are "Death's Wi ther-CI inch" and

"The Ten Stages of Man's Life." These two early poems are

good illustrations of this motif and have, in addition, some

other characteristic medieval themes.

I n "Death's Wi ther-Cl i rich ," the Dance of Death motif

is used to i11 us trate that Death summons everyone, of all classes

This can be seen in the first two stanzas of the poem:

51 Chambers, p. 153

17

M a n m e i l o n g e h i m l i v e s w a n e * ac o f t e h i m l i y e t f>e w r e i n c h ; f a i r w e d e r o f t e h i m w e n t to r e n e , an f e r l i c h e m a k e t is b l e n c h . • p a r - y o r e , n a n -pu t e b i ^ e n c h , - -al sel va 1 ui -pe g r e n e . w e l a - w e y ! n i s K i n g ne Q u e n e f a t ne sel d r i n k e of d e t h - i s d r e n c h . M a n , e r -pu f all e o f fi b e n c h , •pu s i n n e a q u e n c h .

Ne m a i s t r o n g ne s t a r c h ne k e n e a - ^ l y e d e t h - i s w i f e r - c l e n c h ; -»,ung and o l d and b r i t h a n - s i e n e , al he r i u e t h an hi s s t r e n g . v o x a n d f e r l i c h is f e w r e i n c h , ne m a i no m a n f a r t o - ^ e n e s , w e i - l a - w e i ! ne iwepirig ne b e n e , m e d e , l i s t e , ne l e c h e s d r e i n c h . m a n , let s i n n e and l u s t e s s t e n c h , w e l d o , w e l -pencil!

[ M a n m a y e x p e c t a l o n g l i f e , B u t o f t e n in it t h e r e l i e s a t r i c k ; F a i r w e a t h e r o f t e n c h a n g e s to r a i n , O r s u d d e n l y m a k e s it s u n s h i n e . T h e r e f o r e , m a n , t h i n k on y o u r s e l f , E v e r y t h i n g s h a l l f a d e y o u r y o u t h . W e l 1 a w a y ! T h e r e is no K i n g n o r Q u e e n T h a t s h a l l n o t d r i n k of d e a t h ' s d r a u g h t M a n , b e f o r e y o u fall f r o m y o u r b e n c h Q u e n c h y o u r s i n .

N e i t h e r p o w e r f u l n o r s t r o n g n o r k e e n E s c a p e s d e a t h ' s h o s t i l e g r a s p ; Y o u n g a n d o l d and b r i g h t t o g e t h e r , He b r e a k s e v e r y o n e and h i s s t r e n g t h . R e a d y and s u d d e n is t h e t r i c k , No, m a n m a y go a g a i n s t i t , W e l l away! No w e e p i n g , n o r p r a y e r , R e w a r d , s k i l l , or d o c t o r ' s p o t i o n . M a n , l e a v e t h e s t e n c h of l u s t and s i n , Do w e l l , t h i n k w e l l . ] 5 2

^ C a r l e t o n B r o w n , e d i t o r , E n g l i s h Lyri cs o f t h e Th i r t e e n t h C e n t u r y ( O x f o r d , 1 9 3 2 ) , p p . 1 5 - 1 6 . F u r t h e r r e f e r e n c e to t h i s p o e m w i l l be f r o m t h i s v o l u m e . T h e l i n e n u m b e r s w i l l a p p e a r in p a r e n t h e s e s at t h e e n d of the q u o t a t i o n .

18

The idea of Death's imminence is seen in the thi rd stanza, as

it says: "-par deth 1 uteth in hi s swo / to him for-do" (1 i nes

28 and 29). The third characteristic medieval theme which

appears in this poem is the fascination with the putrefaction

of the body after death: "of fel the -pu ert isowe, / weirmes

m e t e -pu selt ben" (lines 33 and 34].

The second poem, "The Ten stages of Man's Life," contains

the Dance of Death theme and two other characteristic motifs.

The Dance of Death is seen in stanzas six through nine.

As in the other poem, the central idea is that Death takes

e-yeryone, whatever hfs worldly goods or degree may be:

A1 mi 1if ic sorwe & care, for det comit sone , -j?at noman wil spare.

Lore fou hast, bope tonge & minde: as tou hast 1 i u i d , pou ssalt sone finde.

A1 f i s wo[r]l d -pou ssal forsake, for det is comun, -p at wil -pe take.

IA11 my life I grieve and care. For death comes soon, that no man will spare.

Counsel you have, both of tongue and mind: As you have lived, you shall soon find.

All t h i s world shall forsake you,

For death is coming that will take y o u . ] 5 ^

In speaking of the temporary comfort afforded by riches, this

poem says in stanza four, "Nou hastou fondin -pat tou hast

sout: / be wel war; it 1astit nout" (1ines 7 and 8).

Frederick Furnival , editor, Political , Rel i gi ous , an d Loye Poems (London, 1903), p. 267. further reference "to this poem will be from this -volume. The line numbers will appear In parentheses at the end of the quotation.

19

F i n a l l y , t h i s poem a l s o uses t h e i d e a of t h e d e c a y i n g

b o d y ' s wormy f a t e . In s t a n z a t e n t h i s i s seen : "Of -j?i 1 i f

nou 1 i t e l l e t e , / f o r - p o u a r t t o r n i d t o worrni s m e t e " ( l i n e s

19 and 2 0 ) . These poems a r e examples of t h e c h a r a c t e r i s t i c

med ieva l p r e o c c u p a t i o n w i t h d e a t h . In each one Death i s

c o n s i d e r e d , in p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n , as a f o r c e in i t s e l f , r a t h e r

t h a n an a b s t r a c t i o n .

The Dance of Death moti f i11 u s t r a t e s t h e p e r s o n i f i c a t i on

of Death d u r i n g a t ime iri England when d e a t h was e v e r y w h e r e .

The f r e q u e n c y of t h e d e a t h moti f has been no ted in t h e f i n e .

a r t s and in p o e t r y . The p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n of d e a t h in o t h e r

m e d i e v a l l i t e r a r y works w i l l be s t u d i e d in l a t e r c h a p t e r s .

CHAPTER II

DANCE OF DEATH

Death has always been a prominent theme in literature,

and the reason is obvious: it is the one thing which happens

to all men. Because of the universality of dying, there

developed during the Middle Ages a literary and artistic

motif based on the idea that death respects no man. This

motif is the Dance of Death, or danse macabre. The expression

is the same as the French Danse des Morts and the German

Totentanz.1 The same term, Dance of Death, is used to describe

certain mural paintings, moral verses of the same theme, and

later, series of woodcuts and engravings depicting the theme.

This chapter will study the personi fi cati on of Death in

the El 1esmere manuscri pt of the Middle Engli sh poem bearing

the title, "The Dance of Death," written about 1430. To

understand fully the poetic development of the motif, which

was apparently the last stage of the evolutionary process

of the Dance of Death, one must first bri efly study the first

stages. Duri ng the Middle Ages , especially after the Black

Death of the fourteenth century, there was a craze for

dancing, much greater than in former times.^ The dances,

of various lewd natures, were practiced in the streets and in

"'Florence Warren, editor, The Dance erf Death (London 1931), p. ix.

21bi d . , p. xv.

20

21

t h e c h u r c h y a r d s . The o r i g i n of t h e Dance of Death m o t i f i s

a m a t t e r of s p e c u l a t i o n * bu t one t h e o r y i s t h a t i t grew out

of d i r e c t i o n s by t h e c l e r g y t o t he p e o p l e t o r e p l a c e t h e i r

obscene d a n c i n g wi th more d e c o r o u s f o r m s , of a more moral

n a t u r e . ^

The Dance of Death was somet imes p e r f o r m e d as a masque ,

w i t h wen d r e s s e d as s k e l e t o n s d a n c i n g w i t h f i g u r e s , bo th

men and womens who r e p r e s e n t e d v a r i o u s l e v e l s of s o c i e t y . ^

Eyeri b e f o r e t h e s e masques became p o p u l a r , t h e r e i s e v i d e n c e

t h a t a Dance of Death was p e r f o r m e d i n which on ly men a p p e a r e d .

In t h i s e a r l y form t h e g r o t e s q u e f i g u r e r e p r e s e n t i n g Death

was i n t e n d e d no t as a r e p r e s e n t a t i o n of Death in t h e a b s t r a c t ,

b u t of t he dying man h i m s e l f in a f u t u r e s t a t e , u s u a l l y t h a t

of a decomposing c o r p s e r a t h e r than a s k e l e t o n . 5 The use of

t h e s k e l e t o n was p r o b a b l y d e r i v e d f rom the w i d e s p r e a d use of

s a n c t i f i e d human r e l i c s by t h e e a r l y C h r i s t i a n s in t h e i r r

r e l i g i o u s r i t e s . When t h e s k e l e t o n r e p l a c e d t h e decay i ng

c o r p s e , t h e c o n c e p t changed from the i n d i v i d u a l man t o Death

p e r s o n i f i e d .

During t h e p l a g u e y e a r s on t h e C o n t i n e n t , i t i s known

t h a t s o c i a l forms of d a n c i n g were e n c o u r a g e d t o d i s p e l p e r v a d i n g

^ I b i d . , p . x i i i .

^Joan Evans , e d i t o r , The F lower ing o_f t h e M 1_dd1 e Ages (New York , 1 9 6 6 ) , p. 241. " ~ "* " ~

^Warren , p . x .

^Dance of Death (London, 1 8 3 3 ) , p. 5.

22

•gloom. There is specific evidence of this in Flanders, Germany,

Hungary, and the Slavic countries. 7 In Germany, out of this

developed a sect who wandered about dancing half nude in groups

of three, falling down at the end of the dance to be trampled

by the others. Their belief was that by this means they

would be cleansed of disease. In Hungary there existed a

dance wherein a man pretended to be dead while others danced

around him mourning in a jesting way, picking him up and

dancing him about. The fellow playing dead remained rigid

in whatever position the dancers arranged him. A greatly

similar dance is known to have existed in the Slavic countries. 8

From these actual dances evolved the art works depicting

them and the poetry describing or dramatizing them. It is

difficult to know which came first, the art works or the

poetry. Perhaps the first manuscript was i1lustrated with

drawings, making their origin coincidental. Perhaps the

poetry was i nspi red by a mural depicting the dance. One

cannot know for certain. The word macabre itself gives some

clues as to the date of origin and perhaps the order of

development as well. It first, appeared with its present

connotation in France about 1376,® in connection with a

mural at the cloisters of the Holy Innocents at Paris."'®

The most widely accepted theory of the origin of the word

7Warren , p. x, 8Ibid. , p. xiy.

9Evans , p. 241. "^Warren, p. xvi

23

is that It was the surname of the author of the original text

11

whi ch the mural i11ustrated.

Also at the church of the Innocents in Paris are some

carvings depicting the theme. These were ordered by Jean

de Berry, a French nobleman, whose great concern with death

can be seen in the elaborate arrangements he made for his 1 O

own burial chapel. u

In France, however, the best surv iving representations

of the Dance of Death are the wall paintings at La Chaise-

D i e u and at Kenriar i a Nesquit in B r i t t a n y . ^ In England,

depictions of the Dance can still be seen on the walls of

village churches, such as the one at Widford in Oxfords hi re, 1 4

and in manuscripts, such as the Lisle Psalter.

There are two well-known series of woodcuts which helped

to popularize the term Dance of Deaths they are by Guyot

Msrchand and Hans H o l b e i n . ^ The earliest;, by Marchand, was

published in 1485. The more widely known series, that by

Hans Holbein, first appeared in 1538, in a book called Los

$imt.il achres et Hi stori ees faus do l a Mort. ^ In the woodcuts

of both Holbein and Marchand the only dancing figure is

Death himself, giving the series the character!sti cs of a

procession rather than a dance.

In the manuscripts, as in the visual depictions and the

early dances, all levels of medieval society are represented, ^ l b i d . 1 2Evans , p. 241 .

1 3 I b i d . ^Ibiri. , p. 242.

15 H arren 5 p. :xvi i i. 1 6 I b i d . • '

24

each character being lead unv/illingly by Death, The first

written Dance of Death was probably composed in Latin by an

ecclesiastic; and the earliest printed versions are in

German J 7 There are three distinct ideas presented in the

literary Dance of Death of the fifteenth century: first,

the equality of all men in the presence of death; second,

the confrontati on of the living wtth the dead; arid third, 1 H

the actual dance.

The second idea, the 1i y i n g being confronted with the dead >

IS probably the basis for the theory that the Dance of Death.,

as it appears n medieval literature, is derived from a late thi rteenth-century poem in French, Le Di t des Troi s Morts et

19

des' Tfois Vifs. It is this subject which appears in the

fresco at La C h a i s e - D i e u in France arid in the carvings at

the church of the Innocents. Thus, there are actually two

depictions of the motif, both based on the same literary

theme, but on di fferent aspects of it.

One translation of the Dance of_ Death from French into

English was made by Lydgate in 1426. He was apparently

employcd to write the verses for a mural on this theme which o n

is at St. Paul's in France. " There are twelve manuscripts

of the English version of the Dance of Death, and one early

printed version from Tottel 1s press , dated 1 554.^ 1 The ^ 7 Ibid. , p. x. 8Ibi d. , p. x i i

^ 9Evans , p. 241. ^°Warren xxi i

Ibid . , p. xxi v,

25

manuscripts date from the middle to the end of the fifteenth

century, with one excepti on, the Vespasian manuscript, which

is dated later than the fifteenth century.

The twelve manuscripts are arranged in two groups,

diyided according to the general arrangements of the characters

They are labeled Group A and Group B, each group including

six manuscripts. Group A contains the Selden Supra MS, the

El 1esmere MS, the Marleian 116 MS, the Trinity College MS,

the Laud 735 MS, and the Bodley 221 MS. Group B contai ns the

Corpus Christi 237 MS; the Bodley 686 ; the Lansdowne 699 ; the

MS Leyden, Codi com 9, catalogi Voss. g g 4; the Lincoln

Cathedral C.5.4; and the Vespasian A 2 5 . 2 2

The Ellesmere manuscript from Group A, John Lydgate's

translation from the French, will be used for this study. 2 3

The manuscripts in Group A follow the French versions; those

in Group B change the order of characters and add six. The

characters of the El 1esmere manuscript appear in this order:

Death, Pope, Emperor, Cardinal, King, Patriarch, Constable,

Archbishop, Baron, Lady of Great Estate, Bishop, Squire, Abbot,

Abbess, Bailiff, Astronomer, Burgess, Canon, Merchant,

C h a r t e r e r , Sergeant, Monk, Usurer, Poor Man, Physician,

Amorous Squire, Gentlewoman Amorous, Man of Law, Juror,

2 2 1 bid. 23

Ibid. , pp. 2-76. Further reference to this work will be taken"from this volume. The line and stanza, or merely the stanza when applicable, will appear in parentheses at the end of the reference.

26

M i n s t r e l , T r e g e t o u r , P a r s o n , L a b o r e r , Friar M i n o r , C h i l d ,

C l e r k , H e r m i t , dead King* and. M a c h a b r e the D o c t o r . These

t h i r t y - s i x i n d i v i d u a l s from all classes of s o c i e t y are s u m m o n e d

by Death. Death uses four d i s t i n c t a p p r o a c h e s : he is c o u r t e o u s

to a few; he is s a r c a s t i c and -mocking to o t h e r s ; he is vengeful

toward some of the c h a r a c t e r s ; and with some he d e f i a n t l y states

facts w h i c h speak for t h e m s e l v e s .

T h e r e are also four d i s t i n c t ways in w h i c h Death is

recei ved by the t h i r t y - s i x c h a r a c t e r s . Some are ready for

h i m ; others regret b i t t e r l y that they must leave behind their

w o r l d l y l i v e s , l a m e n t i n g that nothing can gain them a repri eve;

some lament that their various p r o f e s s i o n a l skills can do

them no good when Death comes and d e s p i s e being p o w e r l e s s ; and

there are a few who show great fright or d i s m a y . Two indivi-

duals defy c l a s s i f i c a t i o n in their u n i q u e replies to Death.

T h e y are the S e r g e a n t and the M i n s t r e l , who will be studied

along with the others 1ater in the c h a p t e r .

The first group is m ade up of nine c h a r a c t e r s w h o m Death

a p p r o a c h e s with more c o u r t e s y than the o t h e r s . This group can

be d i v i d e d f u r t h e r into three p a r t s : those w h o s e s t a t i o n and

c h a r a c t e r Death r e s p e c t s ; those for whom he shows p i t y ; and

those to w h o m he e x t e n d s an i n v i t a t i o n rather than the e x p e c t e d

s u m m o n s . The c h a r a c t e r s who are arranged in this group are, in

the o r d e r they a p p e a r in the poem, the Pope , the E m p e r o r , the

K i n g , the C h a r t e r e a u x , the Monk, the M i n s t r e l , the L a b o u r e r ,

the Friar M i n o r , and the Child.

27

The Pope is the first person whom Death approaches in

the poem. Death's words show his respectful attitude, a

result of the Pope's high earthly office and his manner of

carrying it out:

Vp-on thi s daunce/ firste beyun shal As rnoste worthi lorde/ and gouernowre For al the worschi p/ of *>cwre astate papal

And of lordschip/ to god"i s the honoure (VIII , 61-64).

A similar form of respect is shown to the Emperor whom

he addresses as "Sir Emperowre/ lorde of all the grounde /

Soueren Prince/ and hyest of noblesse. . ." (X, 73-74). Death

uses titles ironically to some of the other individuals, but

here he seems to be sincere in his respect.

Death is respectful to the character called Chartereaux,

who is a monk. In this case , Death tells the man to give hi m

his hand and to avai1 himself unto the dance. Death seems to

want to comfort the man when he says: "Lenger to lyve/ sette

not <5QWfe memorie / Thowg^ I be lothsome/ as yn apparence /

Above al men/ deth hath the victorie" (XLIV, 350-352). Then,

to the character identified as the Monk, Death shows a similar

form of respect, as he seems to feel compelled to point out

the worthiessness of life and its inevitable end: "To erthe

and asshes/ turneth eueri floure / The life of man/ is but a

thynge of nowght" (XLVIIl", 383-384).

The Friar Minor is approached courteously, as Death

extends his own hand to him; "Sire Cordelere/ to -jow my hande

is rawght / To this daunce/ ^ o w to conveie ande lede. . ." (LXXI

561-562).

28

In a di fferent tone, but still with great consideration*

Death approaches the Child. He offers a comforting thought to

the Child: "Who 1 engest leueth/ trioste shal suffre wo" (LXXIII,

584).

To the Minstrel and to the Labourer Death appears

sympatheti c arid even apologetic. He says to the Minstrel,

"By the fight honde/ [anoone I] shal the gri pe / With these

Other/ to go yp«on m y daunce / Ther is no scape/ nowther

g~yoydaunce" (LXIII , 499-501 ). Death seems not only sympathetic

to the labourer, but indeed explains why he has come for him.

This explanati on is the only one Death gives to any of the

characters.

And cause whi/ that I the assaile Is won!i this/ from the to di sseuere The fa 1s worlde/ that can so folke faile

He is a fole/ that weneth to lyve euere (LXIX, 549-552)

There are several characters to whom Death mentions a

change of dress for the dance; they are the Cardi nal , the King,

the Abbess, the Burgess , and the Hermite. In most cases, the

suggestion is a mocking request. The only one to whom a change

Of dress is suggested in a respectful manner is the King. Death

tells him he must give up his rich clothes and wear only a

single sheet, i.e. a shroud: "Who most haboundeth/ here yn

grete r'ichesse / Shal here with him/ but a sengle shete" (XIV,

111-112).

The second group is the largest, being made up of those

Individuals toward whom Death is sarcastic and mocking. In

this group are, in the order of their appearance in the poem,

29

the Cardinal, the Patriarch, the Baron, the Lady of Great

Estate, the Squire, the Abbot, the Abbess, the Bailiff, the

As tronomer> the Burgess, the Physician, the Amorous Squire,

and the Gentl ev/oman .

Death-mocks the Cardinal's vanity in his dress: " v,owre

grete a-rai/ al shal be-leue here / /jowre hatte of rede/ ^owre

vesture of grete coste. . (XII , 93-94). Sarcastically,

Death approaches the Patriarch with a list of the virtues

wfitch will not help him escape death (stanza XVI). He

addresses the Baron with a mocking tone, telling hiro to forget

trumpets and clarions and dancing with ladies in the shade

Cstqnz^ H U ) . Similarly mocking the Lady of Great Estate,

he calls her to join the dance since none of her lover's

tricks will help her now (stanza XXIV). Death not on 1y mocks

the squire's befng freshly horsed, but he is sarcastic about

the young man 1s knowing all the new earthly dances :

Come fort ho Si re Squyer/ right fressh of ^owre arai That can of daunces/ al the riewe gyse. ?

Thowj -5>e bare amies/ fressh horsed *,isterdai. . ." (XXVIII , 217-219). J

The rotund Abbot is approached in almost a jesting manner

qs Death says; "Grete is *,owre hede/ -^owr be 1 i large & fatte /

3 e mote come daunce/ tohw$-»>e be nothi ng light. . (XXX, 235-236)

Exhibiting the strange, fascination with putrefaction which

medieval people seem to have had, Death points out, "Who that

is fattest/ I haue hym be-hight / In his graue/ shal sonnest

putrefie" (XXX , 239-240).

30

Speaking more sarcastically about the Abbess 1 luxurious

life, Death says she must leave behind her furred mantels ,

her veil and wimple, her great riches, and soft beds (stanza

XXXII).

The neat four individuals are taunted for haying had

power in life, but no defense against Death. They are the

Bailiff, the Astronomer, the Burgess, and the Physician. To

the Bailiff, Death points out the irony of their change of

positions (stanza XXXIV}. He mocks the Astronomer's knowledge

of the stars and all his instruments, none of which is of any

further use to him (stanza XXXVI) , and scolds the Burgess for

trying to tarry (stanza XXXVIII). The recurri ng theme of the

lost fortune is used here when Death tells the latter that

his huge treasure will now go to strangers. He calls him a

fool who does not know for whom he is stuffing his garners.

The same theme appears again in The Castle of Perseverance,

to be studied in a later chapter. Death approaches the Physician

tn much the same manner as the Astronomer, pointing out that

none of the physician's knowledge or skill wi11 help him now

(stanza L111).

Similar approaches are used for the Amorous Squire

(stanza LV) , and the Gentlewoman (stanza LVII). He mocks

their youth and points out that their beauty has been arrested.

The thi rd group, of seven individuals, is made up of those

toward whom Death is vengeful: the Bishop, the Canon, the

Usurer, the Man of Law, the Juror, the Parson, and the Clerk.

31

Death's vengeance toward the Bishop is seen here: "For

to accounte/ ^ e shu.1 be brow^t to lure / No wight is sure/

that clymbeth ouer hye" (XXVI , 207-208). The theme which

appears in Everyman, studied in Chapter III, of Death's

coming when he is least expected , is seen when Death approaches

the Canon (stanza XL). Death's vengeful atti tude toward the

Canon appears in the same stanza: "And ^e Si re Chanoun/ with

many grete prebende / -*>e mai no lenger/ haue distribucioun/

Of golde & silver largeli to dispende. . .11 (XL, 313-315).

Death tells the Usurer that none of his greed or covetous-

ness will help him at death (stanza L). As with the Bailiff,

Death points out to the Man of Law how the tables have been

turned against him. He tells him that the only council now

is truth: "But my fraunchi se/ is so large & huge / That

counceile noon/ a-vaile mai but trouth. . (LIX, 469-470).

Death accuses the Juror of basing decisions on bribery

and vindictively says: "But now 1ete see/ with thi teynte

face / To-fore the Juge howe thow cannest the quyte" (LXI,

487-488). The Parson is accused of thinking only of tithes

and offerings, forgetting his major concerns. Death tells

the Parson, vengefully, that hi s reward will match his desert

(stanza LXVII). Death is also vengeful when he approaches

the Clerk, who, he says, thought himself out of the reach of

Death. Death warns, "Who clymbeth hyest/ somme-tyme shal

dessende. . ." (LXXV, 597).

32

Toward the fourth group Death acts as a firm surnmoner only.

The individuals in this group are given the facts of the summons

but are not ridiculed, accuseds or shown especial respect.

Thi s group includes the Constable, the Archbi shop, the Merchant,

the Sergeant, the Tregetour or Magi ci an, and the Hermit.

Death asserts his right to call the Constable to dance

with him when he says: "Hit is my right/ to reste & yow

constrayn / With vs to daunce/ my maister si re Conestable. . ."

(XVIII , 1 37-138). Death tells the Archbi shop that he should

not withdraw from Death's nearness. He points out his close-

ness: "For dai be dai/ ther is none other geyne / Deth at

honde/ pursueth eueri coost. . ." (XX, 157-158). The Merchant

is asked to give Death hi s hand and to dance, leaving all

vainglory and worldly riches (stanza XL 11). The Sergeant

receives a warning not to rebel (stanza Xi.VI); there is no

champion, Death points out, so sturdy that another cannot

take him.

The Tregetour, or magician, holds the unique position of

being the only one called by name. Death notes his talent,

but summons him to join the dance just the same:

Maister Jon Rikelle/ ^4 some tyme tregetowre Of nobi11e harry/ kynge of Ingelonde And of Fraunce/ the myghti Conquerowre For a 11e the siei ghtes/ and turnyng of thyn honde Thow moste come nere/ this daunce to vnderstonde (LXV,

513-517).

The Hermi t recei ves a very plain summons, whi ch tells him to

dress for the dance: "Atte 1 aste ^itte/ ^e mote ^ow dresse/

^ A l t h o u g h Rikelle is here named, he cannot be identified historically.

33

Of my daunce/ to haue experience / For ther-a^eyne/ is no

resistence / Take now 1 eve/ of thyn Ermytage. . (LXXVII ,

611-614).

The four categories of Death's attitude or approach do

not reveal'a pattern which might group the individuals

according to profession. Death has varying attitudes toward

men of the church, depending upon the individual. It is the

same with all other professional divisions. It might be

noted, however, that he is sarcastic or accusing to al1 three

women who appear in the poem. It must be remembered that the

Dance of Death was originally an all male masque. The women

may have been added for their vulnerability to a rnocking

Death.

It is interesting now to note how the various individuals

react to Death's summons. Only three show dismay or fright:

the Bailiff, the Usurer, and the Child. The Bailiff is

distressed because he has been caught unprepared > and he says:

"0 thou lorde god/ this is an harde Journe / To which a-forne/

I toke but lite! hede" (XXXV, 273-274). The Usurer is grieved

to die: "Now me behoueth/ sodynly to dey / Which is to me/

grete peyrie & grete greuaunce" "(LI, 401 -402). The Child is

frightened and regrets having to leave the v/orld to which it

has so recently come. The infancy of the Child is poignantly

clear: "A a a/ a words I can not speke / I am so ^onge/ I was

bor e T i starc!ai" (LXXIV , 585-586).

34

T h e n e x t g r o u p is m a d e up of t h o s e i n d i v i d u a l s w h o are

r e a d y to a c c e p t D e a t h : the P o p e , the B i s h o p , the A b b o t , the

Man of Lav/, the C h a r t e r e a u x , the J u r o r , t h e L a b o u r e r , and the

H e r m i t . T h e P o p e ' s a c c e p t a n c e of D e a t h is b a s e d on his

k n o w l e d g e of its i n e v i t a b i l i t y :

But for al t h a t / deth I mai not f 1 e e On his d a u n c e / w i t h o t h e r for to t r a c e For w h i c h al h o n o u r e / w h o p r u d e n t l y can see

Is l i t e ! w o r t h e / t h a t d o t h soo s o n e p a c e ( I X , 6 9 - 7 2 ) .

T h e B i s h o p is not h a p p y , but he too s e e s the i n e v i t a b i l i t y

( s t a n z a X X V I I ) . T h e A b b o t d o e s not f e a r D e a t h ' s t h r e a t s , but

d o e s r e g r e t d y i n g a c l o i s t e r e r and l a m e n t s t h a t it is too

l a t e to c h a n g e his p r o f e s s i o n ( s t a n z a X X X I ) .

Th e Man of L a w , r e a l i z i n g t h e r e is no f u r t h e r a p p e a l ,

g i v e s in w i l l i n g l y : "For al m y w i t t e / and my g r e t e p r u d e n c e /

To m a k e a p p e l e / f r o m his d r e d e f u l s e n t e n c e / No t h y n g yn

e r t h e / mai a man p r e s e r u e . . ." (LX, 4 7 6 - 4 7 8 ) .

Th e C h a r t e r e a u x is r e a d y to die and s a y s t h a t he has

long b e e n d e a d to the w o r l d by his own c h o o s i n g ( s t a n z a X L V ) .

T h e J u r o r ' s a t t i t u d e is one of r e s i g n a t i o n to the u n a l t e r a b l e .

He n o t e s t h a t t h e : c will be m a n y w h o will r e j o i c e at his d e a t h

( s t a n z a L X 1 1 ) . T h e L a b o u r e r is not so p a s s i v e , h a v i n g o f t e n

w i s h e d f o r d e a t h . His a t t i t u d e is s u m m e d up in t h i s s t a t e m e n t

" F o r I mai s e y / & t e l l e p l a y n l i h o w e / In t h i s w o r l d e / h e r e

t h e r is r e s t e n o o n " ( L X X , 5 5 9 - 5 6 0 ) . T h e last m e m b e r of t h i s

g r o u p , the H e r m i t , t h a n k s God f o r all his g i f t s and is r e a d y

to d i e , but d o e s r e g r e t t h a t e v e n l i f e in the d e s e r t c o u l d

not s a v e him f r o m D e a t h ( s t a n z a L X X V I I 1 ) .

35

Another group of individuals laments leaving their worldly

possessions, ranging from gold to beauty. Among them are the

Cardinals the Patriarchy the Archbishop, the Squi re, the Abbess,

the Burgess, the Monk, the Amorous Squi re, and the Parson.

The first, the Cardi nal , reveals hi s shallow nature when

he answers Death:

I haue grete cause/ certis this is no faile To be a-basshed/ and gretli drede me Sithen dethe is come/ me sodeynli to assaile That I shal neuer/ here after clothed by In gris ner hermyn/ like eke yn distresse Bi which I have/ [1erned] wel and se

How that al ioye/ endeth yn heuyness (XIII, 97-105).

It is evident that Death's mockery of the Cardinal is fully

justi fi ed.

The Patriarch's atti tude is one of regret that his

worldly possessions have deceived him, but he also laments

that all his happiness is now sadness: "Worldli honowre/

grete tresowre and richesse / Haue me deceyued/ sothfastli in

dede / Myne olde Joies/ ben turned to tristesse. . ." (XVII,

129-131).

The Archbishop replies to Death's summons with great

distress, but his joajor concern is saying adieu to his treasure,

his pomp and pride, his painted chambers, and his good looks

and freshness (stanza XXI). Similarly, the Squire says a final

goodbye to mirth and solace, the ladies, his beauty, and to

pleasure. He then gives a warning which is found again and

jagain in Medieval literature: "Thynketh [on] ^owre sowles/

or that deth manace / For al shal rote/ & no man wote what tyme"

36

(XXIX, 231 -232). In Everyman and in The Castle of Perseverance

that same warning is heard.

The Abbess replies to Death in a resigned tone, noting

only that she is leaving behind all that she has enjoyed:

"Thus cruel dethe/ doth al estats fyne / Who hath no ship/

mote rowe yn bote or barge" (XXXIII, 263-264).

The Burgess says he is greatly displeased to leave behind

his house rents and treasure, and gives the characteristic

warning that a man is a fool who sets his heart on goods which

are only lent to him and which will be given to a stranger at

his death (stanza XXXIX).

The monk's reply is humble, but he says he regrets leaving

his book and his cloister. He then gives a unique warning:

MA1 be not meri/ which that men seen daunce" (XLIX, 392).

This is a particularly appropriate reply to Death's summons to

join the Dance of Death.

The Amorous Squire responds as several others have,

bidding farewell to what he loved in life. He says goodbye

to the lusty, fresh flower of youth, to vainglory of beauty and

pride, to the service of Cupid, and to his ladies (stanza LVI).

The last member of this group who lament leaving their earthly

possessions also says goodbye to what has been his chief

interest: the parson says farewell to his tithes and offerings

(stanza LXVIII).

The next division of reactions to Death has similarities

to the preceding one, chiefly regret at leaving their possessions

37

behind. Although the individuals in this group do indeed

regret leaving their worldly loves, they are more greatly

distressed at being completely powerless before Death. Each

was accustomed in life to some degree of authority or power,

which Death strips away. In this group, a large one, appear

the Emperor, the Canon, the Tregetour, the Merchant, the

Constable s the Clerk, the Gentlewoman, the Physician, the

Astronomer, the Lady of Great Estate, the Baron, the King,

and the Friar Minor.

The first one in this group, the Emperor, states very

succinctly the idea most frequently expressed by them all:

"Ther-Vp-on sore/ I may compleyne / That 1ordes grete/ haue

Title a-vauntage" (XI, 87-88). The Canon says: "Dethe hathe

of me/ so grete a- vantage / A'l my riches se/ mai me not d i s -

porte" (XLI, 323-324). He also gives the warning that men

should prepare to die well.

The Tregetour laments simply that there are no tricks

he can use against Death, and bids farewell to his craft

(stanza LXVI). The merchant warns , characteri sti cally,

against over-valuing earthly treasure. He says that he

regrets that all his travels and experiences have no power

to help him against Death (stanza XLI 11).

The Constable gives in more readily than the others,

but he says it is because he sees, regrettably, that no

worldly powers have sway over Death (stanza XIX). On the

other hand, the Clerk's atti tude is fai rly unique in that he

38

is convinced there must be a better way than Death's summons:

"Is there no geyrie/ ne protcccion / Dethe maketh al weie/ a

short conclusion" (LXXVI, 603-605).

The Gentlewoman is saddened to realize that Death is

indifferent to old and young. She laments that Death has

checked her beauty, which was her major concern in life

(stanza L V111). The Physician says he has devoted his life

to finding cures, but regrets that he is powerless against

Death (stanza LIV). The Astronomer replies in a similar way

when he says all his knowledge is of no help at the end

(stanza XXXVII).

Like those in the preceding group, the Lady of Great

Estate bids farewell to what she has treasured, her beauty

and freshness, but she also notes the inability of anyone to

sway Death:

And on his daunce/ ^itte moste I nedes fote For ther [n]i s quene/ Countesse ne duchesse Flouryng in beaute/ ne yn feirnesse That she of dethe/ mote dethes trace sewe (XXV, 195-198).

The Baron remarks that though he was never beaten by

anything worldly, Death's one stroke has made him lame (stanza

XXIII}. The King's comment is notable; he says he does not

know how to dance: *

I haue not lerned/ here-a-forne to daunce No daunce in sothe/ of fotynge so sauage Where-fore I see/ be clere demonstraunce What pride is worth/ force or hye lynage Deth al fordoth/ this is his vsage. . . (XV, 113-117).

Last in this group is the Friar Minor who sums up the general

39

attitude in his reply: "In grete astate/ ne yn pouerty / In

no thynge founde/ that mai fro dethe defende. . . " (LXX11,

573-574}. He closes hi s reply with one last brief sermon:

"Wise is that synner/ that dothe his 1i f a-mende" (LXXII , 576).

The two individuals not included in any of the groups

discussed above are unique in their replies. The Sergeant's

reply is defiant, making him appear comic in comparison to

the other characters in their gravity:

How dar this dethe/ sette on me a-reste That am the kynges/ chosen officere Which '^esterdai/ bothe este & weste Myn offi ce dede/ ful surquedous of chore But now this dai/ I am a-rested here And mai not fie/ thowgh I had hit sworne Eche man is lothe/ to dye ferre and nere That hath not lerned/ for to dye a-forne (XL VII , 369-376).

The Minstrel's response is unusual in that he analyzes

the dance which Death proposes:

This newe daunce/ is to me so straunge Wonder dyuerse/ and passyngli contrarie The dredful fotyng/ dothe so ofte chaunge And the mesu.res/ so ofte sithes vari e Which now to me/ is no thyng necessarie $it hi t were so/ that I might asterte But many a man/ if I shal riot tarie Oftc daunceth/ but no thynge of herte (LXIV, 505-512).

In retrospect, it may be said that generally the characters

in Dance of Death respond to Death in a way similar to that in

which he approaches them. Death knows the individuals well

and knows how they will react; consequently, the i ndi vi duals

are greatly affected by the tone of the summons.

40

T h e Dance of Death is important not only as a work in

itself, but also as the representation of a motif which

recurs wherever Death is personified in later Medieval English

literature. This poem from the Ellesmere manuscript is an

important stage in the development of the motif. Further use

of the motif, as it appears with Death personified, is studied

in the next two chapters.

CHAPTER III

MORAL PLAYS

Chapter I has already examined the macabre preoccupation

of the Middle Ages with death, because of the great mortality

rates from pestilences, human cruelty, and general poor

health condi ti ons. This concern wi th death is evidenced in

all art forms, especially sculpture, painting, and literature.

As a result of this pre occupation there were formed various '

reli gi ous cults duri ng the plague years. In addition to the

Flagellants, already noted, there existed another, more

popular cult, the cult of Death. It was very prominent in i

England, and, according, to some theories, played a signi-

ficant role in the development of the morality pi ay. 2

Death had always figured prominently in Christian

doctrine, but in the fervently religious fifteenth century O

it reached a much greater intensity. Traditional literary

forms by clergymen included, during the fifteenth century,

many instructive treatises on the art of dying. There was

detailed information on preparing for the final hour of life,

and explanations of death, judgment, heaven, and hell.^ "'Arnold Williams, The Drama of Medieval England (Michigan

1961), p. 147. 21 b i d , 31 bid.

41 b i d .

41

42

The special advice on how to die well was based not so

much on fear of death itself, but rather on the fear of dying

unprepared. If a man were prepared for death by the means

recommended by the church, he would have been in a state of

grace, and he needed to have no fear of undergoing the tortures

of purgatory.^

The means of preparing oneself were very expli ci t, and

the subject matter with which one should be familiar was

definite. It included a knowledge of the Ten Commandments,

the Articles of the Faith, the Pater Noster, the Seven Deadly

Sins, the Seven Cardinal Virtues, and the Seven Sacraments of

the church. Of great importance too was a familiarity with

the ars moriendi , the art of dying.® Knowing this matter

presumably allowed one to live in such a way that death

would not hold pain.

The fine arts of the fifteenth century abound in highly

realistic portrayals of the horrid physical effects of death.

A recurrent subject was the consumption of the decaying body

by worms, a realistically carved or painted reminder of human

mortality. The Dance of Death motif was very popular during

the fifteenth century and can be seen in the fine arts as well

as in poetry and drama.

5Helen Thomas, "Some Analogues of Everyman ," Mi ssissi ppi Quarterly, XVI (Spring, 1963), 97.

6Ibid.

. K. Chambers, The Medieval Stage (Oxford, 1903), p. 153.

43

There is a basic connection between the morality play

and the Dance of Death motif. Both grew out of the same

psychological atmosphere, man's recognition of the inevitability

of death and its consequences. 8

In all medieval treatments of the Dance of Death, including

Holbein's series of woodcuts illustrating this theme, the sum-

mons of Death is used, presenting the warning that Death comes

when least expected and is no respecter of persons.^ This

theme had abundant allegorical possibilities which the medieval

artists and writers recognized and used extensively. There

are some who believe that the early dramatic versions of the

Dance of Death in French, German, and Spanish are really

morality plays lacking only the abstraction of man as hero 1 f)

to be complete.

Two of the extant fifteenth century moral plays in

English, of which there are only six in all, are based on a

theme similar to that of the Dance of Death; they are the 1 1

fragmentary Pryde of Lyfe and Everyman. - A thi rd morali ty

pi ay s The Castle of Perseverance is based themati cally on

the conflict between good and evil for the soul of mankind. 8Wi11i ams , p. 147.

^Albert C. Bauqh, editor, A Literary History of England (New York, 1948) , p. 284.

"^Hardin Crai g, English Religious Draina of the Middle Ages (Oxford, 1 955), p. 346. ~

^ C h a m b e r s , p. 155.

44

b u t i t c o n t a i n s , s e c o n d a r i 1 y , 0 s i m i l a r theme of t h e summons

of D e a t h . In a l l t h r e e p l a y s in which t h i s theme o c c u r s ,

Death a p p e a r s i n p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n .

M y s t e r y p l a y s , b a s e d i n t h e i r b e g i n n i n g s on S c r i p t u r e ,

a r o s e f r o m ' s e r v i c e s on p a r t i c u l a r o c c a s i o n s i n t h e l i t u r g i c a l

y e a r . M i r a c l e p l a y s , on t h e o t h e r h a n d , t r e a t t h e l i v e s of

t h e s a i n t s and m a r t y r s . Both o r i g i n a t e d f r o m t h e same a r t i s t i c

1 ?

i m p u l s e w i t h i n t h e c h u r c h , and in e x a c t l y t h e same way. ~ The

"mora l p l a y , " o r m o r a l i t y , i s d r a m a t i z e d a l l e g o r y . The t e r m

and t h e f o r m i t s e l f have e x i s t e d s i n c e t h e f i f t e e n t h c e n t u r y

and c o n n o t e e t h i c a l and r e l i g i o u s p u r p o s e . ^ ^ The E n g l i s h

mora l p l a y s have one u n i v e r s a l p l o t : t h e m i c r o c o s m of man

r e g a r d e d as t h e e p i t o m e of t h e w o r l d . ^ The m y s t e r y and

m i r a c l e p l a y s were more r e p r e s e n t a t i v e of t h e m a c r o c o s m .

The m y s t e r i e s in p a r t i c u l a r were t h e most c h a r a c t e r i s t i c

t y p e of m e d i e v a l drama and were t h e mos t p o p u l a r d r a m a t i c

f o r m in t h e M i d d l e Ages . ^ However , Dea th was n o t a l l e g o r i z e d

i n e i t h e r t h e m y s t e r y o r t h e m i r a c l e p l a y s .

D u r i n g t h e f i f t e e n t h c e n t u r y , r e l i g i o u s e m p h a s i s s h i f t e d

away f r o m i n s t i t u t i o n a l i z e d f o r m s t o s a l v a t i o n of i n d i v i d u a l

m a n . 1 6 Thi s s h i f t b r o u g h t t h e l a i t y much c l o s e r i n t o t h e

f r a m e w o r k of r e l i g i o n and made t h e mora l p l a y a p e r t i n e n t

f o r m of d r a m a , s i n c e i t d e l i v e r e d u n i v e r s a l e t h i c a l m e s s a g e s

which m i g h t be a p p l i e d i n d i v i d u a l l y .

^ C r a i g , p . 320 . ^ 0 1 b i d . , p . 3 4 3 . -

141 b j d . , p . 3 4 4 . 1 5 Charnbers , p . 1 4 9 .

^ W i 11 i ams , p . 1 47 .

45

The development of the moral pi ay is hard to trace since

the form seems to have sprung forth fully developed. One

theory is that it is an extension of the miracle pi ay in the

1 7

direction of allegory. The changes would have been great,

however, to shift not only from the specific to the abstract

in terms of the characters, but also to change the dramatic

purpose from establishment of faith to religious education.

The strongest theory concerning the origin of the moral

pi ay is that it is a dramatic treatment of the Dance of

Death, with man's struggle for salvation a dominant t h e m e . ^

This chapter will study two moral pi ays as they use the theme

of Death in pers oni fi cati on. The character of Death himself

will be the basis for comparison of the two plays. The first

to be studied will be Everyman, the second will be The Cast!e

of Perseverance. The other extant moralities from this

period are of a different nature and will only be mentioned

here. They are Wisdom, a play built on the temptation of a

monk; Mankind, which is really a comedy in the framework of

a moral i ty and Thjs World and the Child, which traces a

man's progress from cradle to grave.

The moral play has certain characteristic themes which

were used individually or together, depending on the writer's

particular purpose. When only one theme is used, the form is

^ C h a m b e r s , p. 151. ^ C r a i g , p. 345.

1 9Ibid. , p. 348. 2 0 B a u g h , p. 285,

46

p i

called partial; when all are used 3 it is called full-scope.

Everyman is an example of the partial; The Castle of Perseverance

is full-scope. The most characteristic themes of the moral

plays are the Summons of Death; the conflict of Vices and

Virtues for supremacy in man's life and for his soul; 2 2 the

battle between a good and a bad angel for man's soul; and the

Parliament of Heaven, or the Debate of the Four Daughters of 23

God. All of the themes are centered around the problem of

man's salvation and the living of life to achieve salvation.

The moral pi ay Everyman is believed to have been written

during the fifteenth century, probably early in the century,

though the extant versions are dated at the beginning of the 24

sixteenth century. As we have seen, the theme of Everyman

is the Summons of Death, a theme which appears as only part

of the whole scheme in The Cast!e of Perseverance, the longest

and most comprehensive of the moralities.

Everyman covers only the last day in the hero's life.

In a prologue the messenger warns of the imminence of Death

to all men and says that the play is going to tell how God

called Everyman to a reckoning. The play starts with a

speech by God on the sinfulness of mankind. He calls on

Death to deliver a summons to Everyman to prepare for his

great reckoning, and Death obeys. Everyman, who is first 2 1 W i l l i a m s , p. 144. • 2 2 B a u g h , p. 283.

2 3Crai g , p. 349. OA

A. C. Cawley, editor, Everyman and Medi eval Mi racle PI ays (New York, 1962), p. 205.

47

seen walking alone, is greatly shocked by Death's delivering

the summons. Declaring his unreadiness, Everyman tries to

bribe Death to forestall, but Death refuses the bribe and

urges Everyman to get ready his book of accounts.

Everyman then approaches his friends to find someone to

accompany him on hi s journey. He confronts and is turned down

by Fellowship, Kindred and Cousin, and Goods. At last. Good

Deeds says she would gladly go, but she is too weak. She says

her sister Knowledge will give him advice and help him make

his reckoni ng. Knowledge appears and offers to be Everyman 1s

guide. They first go to Confession, who gives Penance to

Everyman. After Everyman scourges himself, Good Deeds is

able to rise and walk. Everyman then puts on the robe of

contrition.

Good Deeds advises Everyman to seek Discretion, Strength,

and Beauty to accompany him. Knowledge tells him to call on

Five Wits as counselors. Everyman calls them all together

and each agrees to go with him on the journey. Everyman

receives the last sacraments and extreme unction; then he

begins to die. As he dies, first Beauty leaves him, then

Strength, then Discretion, then Five Wits; only Good Deeds

remains with her sister Knowledge, but even Know!edge cannot

go to the grave with Everyman.

48

Everyman then dies and goes to his grave accompanied by

Good Deeds. Knowledge says she hears the angels, and from 2 5

within the grave an angel speaks, welcoming Everyman.

Everyman is sub-titled, "Here Begynneth a Treatyse How

Ye Hye Fader of Heuen Sendeth Dethe to Somon Euery Creature

to Come and Gyue Acounte of Theyr Lyves in this Worlde, And

is in Maner of a Moral! PI aye." One theory is that it was

not considered a stage-play, but rather, as the sub-title says, 0

a treatise in the framework of a moral play. There is no

proof that Everyman was ever performed before the nineteenth

century. There are no instructions for staging, costuming,

or action in the extant manuscripts. In other medieval

moralities these things were included, even diagrams in the

case of The Cast!e of Perseverance.

Everyman is known to be much older than the extant

manuscripts of it, which are dated from 1509 to 1535 by

various scholars. Two editions of the manuscripts, printed

by Richard Pynson, are only fragmentary, but two, printed by 9 7

John Skot, are complete. There is controversy over the

question of Everyman's origin. It is not known whether it

is the original or a translation of the Dutch play Elckerlijc, oc Joseph Qui ncy Adams, Chief Pre-Shakespearean Dramas

(New York, 1924), pp. 288-303. All further references to the pi ay Everyman will be taken from this edition and will be identi fi ed by the line numbers, in parentheses, taken there-from. All bracketed material is Adams'.

^ W i l l i a m s , p. 160. 2 7 C a w l e y , p. 205

49

which it closely resembles. A third possibility is that both O O

dramas have a common source.

Whichever came first, the play is, according to most

theories, a product of all Catholic Europe, riot of any one

country in particular.^ 9 The fear of death is universal, \

and Everyman's spiritual victory over death, or over the

fear of death, is obviously a common expression of Christian

doctrine. Everyman does have an unusual moral theology for

3 morality play. The author, obviously an imaginative church-

mans is not concerned with the conversion or saving of non-

Christian souls. His aim is apparently to speak to an audience o n

who are already members of the church. In the play it is

assumed that Everyman is already a baptized Christian, but

that his life has not been lead as it should. The play is

concerned with the means by which he is restored to grace.

The generalized hero and the happy ending are the pro-

ducts pf the play's demonstrating the possibility of salvation

for all of humanity, which is representative of a Catholic

theological perspective."^ Later, when the theology shifted ^ The leading argument that Everyman is the original is

Henry de Vocht's Everyman (Germany, 1 963T; J. M. Manly, in EM'ckefl i j c - Everyman: The Question of Priority," Modern

PhTTVfogyT~VIII (October, 1910), 269-277 , leads the opposing argument."

29 Cawley , p. 205.

3 0Lawrence V. Ryan, "Doctrine and Dramatic Structure in 1Eyeryman' ," Speculum , XXXII (October, 1 957), 723.

Dayid Kaul a, "Time and the Timeless in Everyman and Dr. Faus tus," College English, XXII (October, I960), 9.

50

to P r o t e s t a n t p e r s p e c t i v e s , t h e e m p h a s i s w a s p u t on i n d i v i d u a l

d i l e m m a s , as in M a r l o w e ' s D r . F a u s t u s . ^ W h a t e v e r t h e t h e o -

l o g i c a l b a s i s m a y h a v e b e e n , t h e f a c t t h a t E v e r y m a n a v o i d s any

s e r i o u s c o n f l i c t b e t w e e n g o o d and e v i l f o r t h e soul o f m a n k i n d

ts I r r e l e v a n t to t h i s s t u d y . T h e i m p o r t a n t t h i n g is t h a t t h e

e n t i r e p l a y is b a s e d on a p r e o c c u p a t i o n w i t h d e a t h , f r o m t h e

f i r s t l i n e o f t h e p r o l o g u e , w h i c h is a w a r n i n g , to t h e l a s t

l i n e o f t h e e p i l o g u e , w h i c h d e l i v e r s t h e c o n c i s e m o r a l . T h i s

p r e o c c u p a t i o n t a k e s f o r m in t h e p e r s o n i f i e d D e a t h w h o is p r e -

s e n t e d as a w e l l d e v e l o p e d c h a r a c t e r in t h e p l a y .

D e a t h a p p e a r s in E v e r y m a n as G o d ' s b u s i n e s s - l i k e s u b o r -

d i n a t e and m e s s e n g e r , u n l i k e his a p p e a r a n c e as t h e m a l i c i o u s

3 3

a v e n g e r in o t h e r m o r a l i ty p l a y s . E v e r y m a n is a c t u a l l y o n e

f o r m o f t h e ars m o r i e n d i a l r e a d y m e n t i o n e d . T h e p l a y s h o w s

t h e e l e m e n t s o f D e a t h p e r s o n i f i e d in a p a r t i c u l a r s i t u a t i o n

w h e r e i n a p a r t i c u l a r m a n , r e p r e s e n t i n g all m e n , is s u m m o n e d

to g i v e a c c o u n t of h i s l i f e b e f o r e t h e a l l - h i g h j u d g e .

T h o u g h t h e e n t i r e p l a y s h o w s w h a t E v e r y m a n h a d to d o in p r e p a r -

a t i o n f o r d e a t h , it p o i n t s o u t i n d i r e c t l y h o w he s h o u l d h a v e

l i v e d in o r d e r tc a v o i d t h e l a s t m i n u t e r u s h to s e t a c c o u n t s

in o r d e r .

In k e e p i n g w i t h t h e t r a d i t i o n o f t h e ars m o r i e n d i ,

E v e r y m a n d e a l s s p e c i f i c a l l y w i t h t h e c h u r c h s a c r a m e n t s d i r e c t l y

c o n n e c t e d w i t h d e a t h : P e n a n c e , t h e E u c h a r i s t , and E x t r e m e U n c t i o n . 0 "

^ I b i d . ^ d e V o c h t , p. 1 9 4 .

^ T h o m a s , p. 1 0 3 . ^ ^ I b i d. , p. 9 8 .

51

The universe depicted in Everyman is one ruled by a benevolent

God who has complete control end who gives the sinner every

chance to redeem himself. Here Death is presented as the

inevitable event which all men must face, not a diabolical 36

force; the demonic element is kept safely at a distance.

However, the depiction of Death in the Dance of Death motif

is usually di fferent from the dignified messenger of Everyman.

He is usually a mocking, sadistic character who enjoys the

advantage of playing the only tune, of being inevitable. In

this difference lies the individuality of the character Death

in Everyman. In lines 80 through 181 of the play, Death and

Everyman are speaking to each other. Death does not relent

in his summons, he does not make any apologies, nor does he

flaunt hi s power or act jubilant a

He, in fact, seems to pity the ign

t his dominance over Everyman

orant, unready Everyman:

n walkynge. on my comynge;

Loo, yonder I se Eueryma Full lytell he thynketh Hi s mynde is on f1esshely lustes, and

his treasure; And grete payne it shall

endure Before the Lorde, heuen[

Death in Everyman is not depi

of God, but only as a respectful s

for his master is seen in his ways

as "In grete hast I am sende to th

Mageste" (lines 90-91), and again in his reference to God as

"... , .the Chefe Lorde of paradyse" (line 110).

cause him to

's] Kynge (lines 80-84).

cted as a force independent

ervant of God. His respect

of referring to God, such

e / Fro God out of his

^ K a u l a , p. 11.

52

On the other hand, Death's op in ion of h imse l f i s i n t e r -

e s t i n g : " I am Dethe, t ha t rio man dreacfeth; / For euery man

I r e s t , and no man spareth" ( l i n e s 115-116). He is f i n a l and

i m p a r t i a l in ser ious d i g n i t y . He fears and respects no one

and seems to consider h imse l f a kind of o f f i c i a l of the law

of God. The word res t in l i n e 116 might mean not only " to

s t o p , " but a c t u a l l y " to a r r e s t , " in the sense of a po l i ce

o f f i c e r ' s duty .

Eyeryman 's a t t i t u d e toward Death s h i f t s . He at f i r s t

tsfces him very l i g h t l y , t r y i n g to s t a l l f o r t ime , even o f f e r i n g

a b r i b e : "Yet of my good wyl 1 gyue ye , y f thou wyl be kynde; /

Ye? a thousand pounde sha l te thou haue, / And [ thou3 d y f f e r r e

t h t s mater t y l l an other daye" ( l i n e s 121-123). He becomes

more ser ious as he r e a l i z e s the s i t u a t i o n more f u l l y :

A las ! sha l l I haue no longer respyte? I may saye Deth geueth no warnynge! To thynke on the i t maketh my her te seke, For a l l vnredy is my boke of rekenynqe ( l i n e s 131-134).

The next change is s t i l l in despera t ion , but he has at l a s t

r e a l i z e d t ha t Death cannot be put o f f : "For though I mourne

i t auay1eth nought, / The day passeth, and i s almoost ago. /

I wote not we l l what f o r to do" ( l i n e s 193-195). By the end

of h is search f o r company f o r the j ou rney , when he has had

the advice of Knowledge and the t rue companionship of Good

Deeds, Everyman i s no longer desperate in hts a t t i t u d e toward

De^th:

53

Into thy hancies, Lorde, my soule I commende. Resceyue it, Lorde, that it be not lost. As thou me bough test, so me defende, That I may appere with that blessyd hoost That shall be saved at the day of dome (lines 880-885).

The Dance of Death motif then is used in that Everyman

proceeds on his way to the grave at the summons of Death and

dances to the tune of Death. There are no alternate routes

for Everyman. The character Death in this play, however, is

not in keeping with Death in the usual Dance of Death motif.

This difference is apparently the cause of one scholar's

saying that the Dance of Death is not actually the major

motif, but rather that the pilgrimage motif, known in other 37

1ater medieval non-dramati c works, is the dominant theme.

It is possible to see this point also, since Everyman does

indeed consider his way to the grave a journey or a pilgrimage

on which he wants company, as he states: "Alas! I may well

wepe with syghes depe! / Now have I no maner of company / To

helpe me in my iourney and me to kepe" (lines 184-186). The

two opposing theories need not be reconciled, however, since

they can exist side by side, and give a double meaning doubt! es:

intended by the author.

The effecti venes s of Everyman is in its highly serious

tone, unmarred by comic interlude, and in the simple plot, the

immediate approach of Death.

The second morality play in which Death is personified,

The Castle of Perseverance, is greatly different from Everyman

^^Wi11iams , p. 161

54

in its full-scope treatment of the traditional themes. Whereas

Everyman presents only one theme, the Summons of Death, Castle

presents all themes except, according to one scholar, the O O

pilgrimage motif which is present in Everyman. Cast!e is

dated c. 1405 and is the most extensive and complete of the 39

English moralities, containing not only action and costuming

instructions, but diagrams of the staging. Cast!e contains

a full range of themes: the Struggle of the Virtues and Vices

for the soul of Mankind; a Good and a Bad Angel battling each

other for man's soul; the World, the. Flesh, and the Devil,

assisted by the Seven Deadly Sins, fighting against Confession,

Penitence, Absolution, and the Six Heavenly Graces; and the

Parliament of Heaven or the Debate of the Four Daughters of

God, in which Justice and Truth prosecute and Mercy and Peace

defend M a n k i n d . ^

Cast!e has a somber evenness of structure which gives it

a funereal aspect but Death's summons is not the dominant

motif, as we have noted. The battle between the forces of

good and evil make up most of the action. In Cast!e, as in

Everyman, Death is represented as giving a warning lesson to

humanity by killing Mankind.

The play begins with the traditional banns; then the

World, the Flesh, and the Devil all state their positions.

•^Craig, p. 348. ^ I b i d . ^ 3^3_

4 0 I b i d . , p. 349. ^ W i l l i a m s , p. 153.

55

Next Mankind appears, bemoaning the fate of being born into

this world. He introduces his Good and Bad Angels. The Good

Angel speaks, then the Bad Angel, each giving Mankind advice.

The former advises him to follow God and be saved; the latter

says to follow evil and be rich. Mankind characteristically

chooses to be rich. The Good Angel pleads with him to recon-

sider, to think of his dying day and the welfare of his soul,

but Mankind goes off with the Bad Angel.

Lust and Folly then join Mankind and the Bad Angel in

going to the World, who tells Mankind he must give up all

service to God and be wholly in service to the World alone,

thereby making himself rich and attractive to pretty ladies.

Mankind is then approached and enticed by all of the Seven

Deadly Sins, all of whom he gladly accepts.

He is then approached by Shrift and Penance, who persuade

him to give up his sins. He asks to be given a place safe

from the Seven Deadly Sins, and is taken to the Castle of

Perseverance. The Seven Moral Virtues who reside therein

welcome him.

After he has lived there for a time, the World, the Flesh,

and the Devil, with the help of the Seven Deadly Sins, prepare

to attack the Castle. The Virtues defend it and drive off the

first attackers, the Devil and his followers, by bombarding

them with roses, symbolizing Christ's passion. Next, the Flesh

and his followers attack and are beaten back. As a last resort,

the World has Covetousness approach Mankind alone. He appeals

56

to Mankind's old age, and in his greed Mankind relents,

leaving the Castle and adopting the motto, "More, More."

At last Death enters the action and decides it is Mankind's

time to go. When he delivers the summons, Mankind appeals for

help first'to World, who refuses him. He laments on and on,

only at the last appealing to God; then he dies. The Soul

1 eaves the body and addresses it in an upbraiding tone. The

Bad Angel reappears to take the Soul off to Hell on his back,

but since the Soul had cried for mercy at the last, God's

daughters Mercy and Peace debate with their sisters Truth

and Justice on whether Mankind should go to Hell. The judge, 4?

God, decides in favor of Mankind and allows him into Heaven. *

The character of Death in Cast!e is much nearer the

tradition of the Dance of Death motif. According to the

stage directions, Death "enters the scene carrying a dart.

This is in keeping with the usual visual depiction of a

spear-carrying Death in the Dance of Death motif. He is not

a dignified messenger, but an arrogant, mocking, full-fledged

force in himself. This arrogance can be seen in this speech:

Whanne I com, iche man drede forthi, But yit is ther no geyn [i]-went, Hey hyl , holte, nyn hethe. Ye schul me drede, every-chone; Whanne I com, ye schul grone! My name in londe is left a-lone: I hatte "Drery Dethe". . . (lines 2785-^2791 ).

^ A d a m s , pp. 265-287. All further references to lines from this play will be from this edition. All bracketed, material is Adorns1 except for the modern English translations

57

[When I come, each man shall therefore dread, And yet is there no help hoped for, High hill, holt, n o r he ai h. You shall fear ine, everyone; When I come, you shall groan! I am called "Dreary Death". . . .]

In Cast!e, Death appears as an avenger bringing agony:

I schal hym prove of myn empryse; With this poynt I schal hym breche, And wappyn hym in a woful wyse; No body schal ben hys bote (lines 1236-1239).

[I shall prove my intent to him; With this spear I shall break him, And beat him in a woeful manner; Nobody can help him.]

In contrast to Death in Everyman, Death in Castle flaunts

his power. This is apparent when he approaches Mankind:

I schal thee schapyn a schenful schappe : Now I kylle thee with myn knappe! I reche to thee, Mankynde, a rappe To thyne herte rote! (lines 2840-2843)

[I shall you shape a sorry shape: Now I kill you with my blow! I reach to you, Mankind, a rap To your heart's root!]

Mankind's attitude toward this arrogant avenger is, as

one might expect, immediate despair. Whereas in Everyman

Death had used a firm but quiet summons and Everyman had not

taken him seriously, in Castle, Death boasts and threatens

and Mankind immediately is convinced.

Death, as a character, does not remain long in the

action of Castle. He makes his summons clear and quickly is

gone, though hi s presence i s still felt until the end of the

play. In this play, Death seems -more a messenger of the Devil

58

than of G o d , though he should p r o b a b l y be c o n s i d e r e d i m p a r t i a l .

His a r r o g a n t m a n n e r , his w a r n i n g s and hi*s t h r e a t s , seem more

c h a r a c t e r i s t i c of the m e s s e n g e r from H e l l . This a s p e c t of

his c h a r a c t e r is much closer to the Dance of Death m o t i f

than are t h o s e of Death in E v e r y m a n . Death in C a s t l e refers

r e p e a t e d l y to physical horrors and p a i n s . In' E v e r y m a n he

keeps u r g i n g E v e r y m a n to set s t r a i g h t hi s a c c o u n t s . The

f o r m e r s u g g e s t s the t o r t u r e s of H e l l ; the 1 a t t e r i m p l i e s the

p o s s i b i l i t i e s of H e a v e n .

In c o m p a r i s o n , the c h a r a c t e r of Death in C a s t ! e fits

m o r e n e a t l y into the t r a d i t i o n a l m e d i e v a l a t t i t u d e toward

Death than does Death in Everyman*. A l t h o u g h they serve

d i f f e r e n t p u r p o s e s , the o u t c o m e is the same. In E v e r y m a n ,

D e a t h ' s p u r p o s e , as a c h a r a c t e r , is to f o r c e E v e r y m a n to

come to a r e a l i z a t i o n o f the true God and to m a k e his life

right. In C a s t ! e , the p u r p o s e of Death is to f r i g h t e n

Mankind and to catch him off guard.

T h u s , the S u m m o n s of Death theme is used in two d i f f e r e n t

w a y s , one p e r s o n i f y i n g Death as God's m e s s e n g e r , the o t h e r

p e r s o n i f y i n g Death as the m a l i c i o u s force i t s e l f , as seen in

the Dance of Death theme in all the a r t s , i n c l u d i n g m e d i e v a l

dratna.

CHAPTER IV

THE PARDONER'S TALE

The common medieva l theme of Death was at f i r s t most

p r e v a l e n t i n e c c l e s i a s t i c a l l i t e r a t u r e , but by the end of

the f o u r t e e n t h cen tu ry was w i d e l y used i n popu la r l i t e r a t u r e

as we l l . " " In The Canterbury T a l e s , the c h i e f mas te rp iece o f

popu la r l i t e r a t u r e , Chaucer s k i 11 f u11y uses a l1 forms o f

medieva l l i t e r a t u r e , f rom d i d a c t i c s t o r i e s and 'exempi a t o

bawdy f a b 1 i a u x , by a l l o w i n g the t a l e s to be t o l d by persons

o f every l e v e l o f s o c i e t y . Thje Pardoner ' s T a l e , whi ch t h i s

chap te r w i l l s t u d y , i s an example o f Chaucer 's use o f the

exemplum, a m o r a l i z e d t a l e used by medieval preachers t o

i l l u s t r a t e d o c t r i n e . The moral p o i n t o f t h i s exemplum i s

t h a t A v a r i c e must always lead to an e v i l end, or i n the words O

of the Pardoner , Radix malorum es t Cupid i t a s .

Th is s tudy w i l l not deal w i t h the v a r i o u s i r o n i c f e a t u r e s

of the Pardoner h i m s e l f , h i s c o n f e s s i o n s , or hi s sermon, but

on ly w i t h the t a l e i t s e l f and the use o f the Death m o t i f i n

t h a t t a l e , s p e c i f i c a l l y w i t h the p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n of Death.

1 j . H u i z i n g a , The Waning of the Midd le Ages (London, 1927) , p. 126. ~ " " *

2F. N. Robinson, e d i t o r , The Works of Chaucer (New York , 1933) , pp. 181-187 j l ine 334. "TuYther™"references "made to The Pardoner ' s Tale w i l l be taken from t h i s e d i t i o n ; on ly l i n e numbers V i 11 be c i t e d and those w i l l be g iven i n parentheses a f t e r the q u o t a t i o n .

59

60

The Pardoner's Tale has no one direct analogue, but several

sources were apparently used, the first recorded being of

oriental origin. Chaucer, however, obviously used later

Western versions as his sources, chiefly various novel 1e and

exempla, but he did not 1i mi t himself to those sources only."

Various aspects of The Pardoner's Tale seem to have been

taken f row several di f ferent and largely unidentifiable sources.

It is well known that Chaucer used current oral and written

folklore as sources for The Canterbury Tales. Traditional

motifs appearing in The Pardoner's Tale are the grouping in

three's; the dicing; the quest for death-, the symbolic person-

ification of Death; and the pledge of secrecy.^

In brief summary, The Pardoner's Tale is a story of three

young men who have devoted their lives to drinking and merry-

maMng. In their drunkenness , they are enraged to learn of

the death of a friend, and they swear oaths of brotherhood to

seek out §nd kill the scoundrel , Death, who was responsible

for their friend's untimely demi se. As they set out on their

search for Death, they meet an old man who is himself looking

for Death, 1n vain. He is, however, able to di rect the three

revel 1ers to the pi gee where he says they will find Death.

3W. F. Bryan and .Germai ne Dempster , edi tors , Sources and Analogues of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales (Chicago, 194177" pp." 415-416;

^Robert A. B a r a k a t, "Odi n: Old Man of The Pardoner's Tale," Southern Folklore Quarterly, XXVIII (Sept ember 19 64), 211.

61

The three are directed up a crooked path to a grove of trees

where under an oak tree they find a large quantity of gold

florins. Forgetting their search for Death, they begin to

decide on a plan for taking away the gold. Since the most

sensible plan is to wait until night to transport the gold

to their homes, they draw lots to see who is to bring food

and drink to sustain them until nightfall. After the youngest

of the three has gone for food and wine, the other two plot

his death so that the gold need only be divided in half. The

young roisterer sent for food buys poison for the other two

so that he can have all the gold for himself. Thus avarice

leads to the deaths of all three, for after the two who

remained with the gold have murdered the third, in celebration

they drink the wine which he has poisoned and are soon dead

also.

There are several ways in which the theme of Death appears

in this story. The setting and time of the story are closely

linked with Death. Further, the three revellers in their

drunkenness assume Death to be a literal being. The old man

whom they encounter is very much a part of th§ motif of Death

as are the oak tree, the gold, and the very sin of avarice.

The scene is set during plague time in fourteenth century

Flanders, an area notorious in the Middle Ages for drinking and

an abandoned style of living. The fourteenth century, a time

during which the flemish merchants held great power and fought

62

constantly among themselves for ever more power,^ was a time

of recurring outbreaks of the Bubonic Plague all over the Con-

tinent as well as in England. Chaucer's personal knowledge

of the ravages of the plague made his descriptive power even

more keen -in The Pardoner's Tale. England had large-scale

outbreaks of pestilence four times during the reign of

Edward III, in 1348-49, 1361-63, 1369, and 1375-76. The

three revellers in The Pardoner's Tale are among those all

oyer England and continental Europe who believed in making

the -most of life while there was still time, of taking as much

fooGj drink, and physical pleasure as possible. 7 The Pardoner's

e has an intensity and impressiveness not again reached in

English literature for two hundred years, chiefly because of the

theme of revel 1ry, drunkenness, and foul speech set against the

sordid background of the Black Death. 8

A familiar theme of the 1i terature of Chaucer's England

was that of the three Messengers of Death: Sickness, Disaster,

and Old Age.^ Chaucer uses this motif as part of the scheme

of The Pardoner's Tale by first introducing Sickness in the

form of the Bubonic Plague; then Old Age, character!zed by

6Dorothy M. Norris, "Chaucer's Pardoner's Tale and Flanders," PMLA , XL VI11 (June, 1933)7~6~3T.

7 R . K. Root, The Poetry of Chaucer (Boston, 1922), p. 228.

. M. Manly, Some New Light on Chaucer (Gloucester, Mass. 1959), p. 289. ' _

9Harie P. Hamilton, "Death and Old Age in 'The Pardoner's Tale 1 ," Studies in Philology, XXXVI (October, 1939), 573.

63

t h e o l d m a n , w h o is f o r t h e t h r e e r e v e l l e r s an a d v a n c e a g e n t

o f D e a t h ; t h e n D i s a s t e r , t h r o u g h t h e s u d d e n , v i o l e n t end of

t h e t h r e e r e v e l l e r s . ^

T h e b a s i c c o n c e r n o f t h e P a r d o n e r ' s e x e m p l uni, h o w e v e r ,

is D e a t h i t s e l f . It is t h e l i t e r a l r e s u l t o f all t h e a s p e c t s

o f cupi di tas p r e s e n t e d in t h e tal e. T h e P a r d o n e r is t r y i n g

a l w a y s to s h o c k h i s l i s t e n e r s w i t h t h e p r o f o u n d r e m i n d e r o f

t h e s u d d e n n e s s a n d i m m i n e n c e of D e a t h .

D e a t h is f i r s t i n t r o d u c e d by t h e t i n k l i n g o f a bell

h e a r d by t h e t h r e e r e v e l l e r s as t h e y d r i n k in a t a v e r n . T h e

b e l l is b e i n g c a r r i e d w i t h a c o r p s e . " A n d as t h e y s a t , t h e y

h e r d e a b e l l e c l y n k e / B e f o r n a c o r s w a s c a r i e d to h i s g r a v e "

( l i n e s 6 6 4 - 6 6 5 ) . T h e t a v e r n b o y i d e n t i f i e s t h e d e a d m a n as

a f r i e n d of t h e t h r e e and t h e n n a m e s a l s o t h e m u r d e r e r , " T h e r

c a m a p r i v e e t h e e f , m a n c l e p e t h D e e t h , / T h a t in t h i s c o u n t r e e

al t h e p e p l e s l e e t h " ( l i n e s 6 7 5 - 6 7 6 ) . T h i s is t h e f i r s t

p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n o f D e a t h . A f t e r t h e b o y h a s w a r n e d t h e m to

b e w a r e of D e a t h , t h e t a v e r n k e e p e r f u r t h e r s t h e p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n :

T h e c h i l d s e e t h s o o t h , f o r he h a t h s l a y n t h i s y e e r , H e n n e o v e r a >•: 11 e , w i t h i n n e a g r e e t v i l l a g e , B o t h e m a n and w o m m a n , c h i l d , and h y n e , a n d p a g e ;

I t r o w e h i s habi taci o u n be t h e r e , ( l i n e s 6 8 6 - 6 8 9 ) .

T h e r e v e l l e r s s w e a r an o a t h of m u t u a l fai th t h a t t h e y w i l l

f i n d a n d kill t h e " f a l s e t r a y t o u r D e e t h " ( l i n e 6 9 9 ) . T h i s o a t h

1 0 I b i d . , p . 5 7 4 .

1 1 R o b e r t P. M i l l e r , " C h a u c e r ' s P a r d o n e r , T h e S c r i p t u r a l E u n u c h , a n d t h e P a r d o n e r ' s T a l e , " S p e c u l u m , X X X ( A p r i l , 1 9 5 5 ) 1 9 4 . ~ ~

64

foreshadows their own deaths and marks them for that inevitable f o

end. Their deaths follow swiftly after their breaking of

the vow of brotherhood, thus making the false swearing of oaths 1 O

at least partially responsible for their deaths.

The three revellers, having set out on the road in search

of the personified Death, come upon an old man about whom

there is great critical disagreement. This old man is himself

in search of Death, as he admits in the following lines:

Ne Deeth, alias! ne wi1 nat han my lyf. Thus walke I, lyk a restelees kai tyf, And on the ground, which is my moodres gate, I knokke with my staf, bothe erly and late, . And seye "Leeve mooder, leet me in!" (lines 727-731).

This old man's search for death is in great contrast to the

search by the three young revellers. They are drunk and

excited, impatient to find the foe; he is seeking in a mood 14

of calm, philosophic meditation. The old man is called by

one critic the "one who remains perhaps the most tragic and

mysterious figure ever created in an equal number of lines in 1

any literature." ~ The enigma of the old man's character has

led some to believe he is a personification of Death.

The chief critic among those who consider the old man

as representative of Death says, "The Aged Wayfarer whom the

three ri oters encounter, and whom they treat wi th such rudeness, 1 2 R o o t , p. 229. 1 3 M i 1 l e r , p. 194. P 1 4 R o o t , p. 229.

^ M a n l y , New Li ght, p. 290

65

is undoubtedly Death In person."''6 The principal evidence

given to support this theory is that the old man says, "I

moot go thider as I have to go" (line 749). As one critic

points out, the old man must be on his way, just as Death

must be about its business during plague time. . The old man

as a personification of Death is confident that the three are

already his because he knows that coveting the gold to which 1 7

he has directed them will be their deaths. Other theories

exist, however, concerning the old man. One of these is that

the old man is possibly representative of Death's messenger,

Old Age.^ 8 Another is that the old man is symbolic of Death

in that he points the way to the grove of trees, even to an *1 0

oak tree, rather than merely pointing them toward Death itself. J

All of the studies which identify the old man as Death personi-20

fied use principally three pieces of evidence: that he is

described as wrapped up except for his face, "Why artow al

forwrapped save thy face?" (line 717); that he is called

Death's spy by one of the three revellers, "Thou spak right

now of thi1ke traytour Deeth, / That in thi s countree alle oure

freendes sleeth. / Have heer my trouth, as thou art his 1 6George Lyman Ki ttredge, Chaucer and His Poetry (Cambridge

1915) , p. 215.

Turbid. "^Robinson, p. 836.

19 Barakat, p. 212. 2 0Robert E. Todd,••"•The Magna Mater Archetype in The

r 1s Tale," Li terature and Psychology, XV (Winter, 1965) Pardoner's Tale 33.

66

espye, . . ." (lines 753-7 55); and that he directs the three

up a crooked path to an oak tree in a grove:

To fynde Deeth, turne up this croked wey, For in that grove I lafte hym, by my fey, Under a tree, and there he wole abyde; Noght for youre boost he wole hym nothyng hyde. Se ye that ook? Right there ye shal him fynde (lines 761-765).

Among the scholarship which disagrees with the interpre-

tation of the old man as Death, one specific rebuttal calls

the theory inadequate because the old man himself cannot effect

the deaths of the three, but can only direct them to where

they can find it. In this argument it is suggested that the

gold Itself might easily have accomplished the deaths of the ? 1

three had the old man never appeared. One wonders, of

course, whether the three would have found the gold without

directions from the old man. Another, more tenable argument is that it seems unlikely

that Death himself would be, by his own admission, seeking 22

death. Further disagreement with the theory that the old

man is Death personified is based on the fact that there is

insufficient textual evidence to support it, and that, further,

such an interpretation spoils much of the irony of the tale's o

Death motif.

^ N e l s o n S. Bushnel1 , "The Wandering Jew and the Pardoner's Tale," Studies in Philology, XXVIII (July, 1931 ) , 459.

^ A l f r e d David, "Criticism and the Old Man in Chaucer's Pardoner's Tale," College English, XXV11 (October, 1965), 39.

2 3 W . J. B. Owen, "The Old Man in 'The Pardoner's Tale'," Revi ew of English Studies, 11 ( January, 1 951 ), 49.

67

The old man can be interpreted as 01d Age, one of the

three Messengers of Death. The accusation by one of the

three revellers that the old man is the spy of Death can

be used as supportive evidence for this interpretation.

This moti f"was widely used in other poems of the same time;

it is likely that Chaucer too would employ the theme of the

three Messengers. The theory is basically that the old man

is ". . .clothed as it were in hi s master's Death's 1i very, O C

and hence resembles Death." He is described very clearly

by Chaucer, seven times being called "old man," once "old

churl," and four times "age," meaning Old Age. In this

interpretation, the old man's lack of love for money, or his

lack of greed, in his agedness makes him the perfect one to

direct the greedy, lustful young men to the gold, which he

recognizes as useless to himself but which he knows will bring

death to the three young m e n . ^ The gold is useless to him

not only because he has no more youth on which to spend it,

but also because he has outlived greed, the only way by which

gold can lead to death.

Further, evidence in support of this interpretation is

the idea that the old man must live on and on, thus repre-

sent i n g endless Old Age. If he were simply an old man, he

would die, as the aged die, but Age or Old Age always remains 9 7

as a perpetual reminder of Death.

^ H a m i l t o n , p. 576 . ^ I b i d. , p. 572. 2 6 I b i d . 2 7Tbid.

68

The evidence used to support the interpretation of the

old man as Old Age and the idea that the old man must live

on forever is used equally as effectively to support the

theory that the old man is symbolic of the Wandering Jew.

The legendary figure known as the Wandering Jew is today

identified with the Jew who refused rest to the weary Jesus

as he made his way to Calvary and who was condemned for this

to wander eternally over the earth waiting for the second p o

coming. However, if the Wandering Jew represents Death's

opposite, immortality, and if Chaucer used the Wandering

Jew legend as his source, the old man is not likely to

represent Death.

It is possible that Chaucer did -make use of an actual

model from contemporary tradition, if not the Wandering Jew,

then another. One critic sees a link between Chaucer's old 29

man and the legends of Odin, the Norse god. This connection

is made in part on the basis of the references to the oak tree

which often is used to imply Death, Odin's legendary rela-

tionship with death is certain. He appears in folk literature

as a stranger with a wide-brimmed hat and cloak or as a wild

huntsman. He is known also as the father of the slain, the

leader of souls, and as the god who leads his army of the

homeless dead through the air. Being the oldest of the Norse

gods, Odin is often portrayed -as an old man and is known by 2 8Bushnell , p. 452.

^ B a r a k a t , p. 212.

69

other names which suggest a close link with Chaucer's old man:

Hackeberg, or Hakolberend (mantle-wearer); Ski dskegg (long-

beard); Vafud, or Vegtam (wanderer); Viatorindefessus (Unwearied

traveler); Grimr (hooded); Ganglier (way-weary); Gondlir (staff-o n

bearer); and Vidforull (far-traveler).

If Chaucer did not use an existing tradition as the source

for his old man, and if the old man is not Death personified,

one must assume he might be literally intended as an old man, 31

as at least one study has noted. This study says that one

must accept a literal interpretation.of the old man because

there is no real evidence that the old man is an allegory of

death. In fact, there is strong evidence to the contrary. The

evidence in support of this theory is much like that of other op

theories. First, Chaucer s old man is himself seeking Death.

Further, there is textual proof, seemingly, that the old man

is not immortal. After begging Mother Earth to let him in he

says, "But yet to me she wol nat do that grace" (line 737).

The word "yet" implies that she will presumably allow him in O O

later. The very fact that the old man wishes to be allowed

to return to Mother Earth is further proof used in the argument.

The line, "No lenger thanne after Deeth they soughte" (line 772)

is pointless if the old man characterizes Death, for if he does,

the three have indeed already found Death when they meet him.

^ I b i d. , p. 213. 31W. j. B. Owen, p. 50.

3 2 I b l d . 3 3Ibi d.

3 4Xbi d.

70

As for the i n t e r p r e t a t i o n s of the old man as D e a t h ' s

m e s s e n g e r , this study points out that it is highly i n a p p r o -

p r i a t e that a m e s s e n g e r of Death in the form of Old Age should

a p p e a r to t h r e e y o u n g m e n . It is s u g g e s t e d that the only

a p p r o p r i a t e M e s s e n g e r of Death to this tale would be D i s a s t e r ,

35

w h i c h is m o s t likely and w h i ch in fact does o c c u r .

The i n t e r p r e t a t i o n in the same study of the old m a n ' s

a s s o c i a t i o n w i t h the gold is r a t h e r unusual and highly

q u e s t i o n a b l e : The old -man is s e e k i n g death not f l e e i n g from it, for he does not know i t is in the g r o v e ; he does not know w h e r e it is, m u c h as he would like to know. He does n o t , Indeed c a n n o t , lead the r e v e l l e r s to the gold and point it out to t h e m , for as far as he knows there is n o t h i n g t h e r e . 3 "

A c c o r d i n g to this s t u d y , the old man does not warn them

a g a i n s t w h a t they will find t h e r e , as the tavern boy has

w a r n e d them of e n c o u n t e r i n g D e a t h , b e c a u s e he thinks they

will find n o t h i n g . The e x p l a n a t i o n of this i n t e r p r e t a t i o n

is that s i nce the old man is still s e e k i n g death when he meets

the r e v e l l e r s , he m u s t not have seen the gold h i m s e l f and

m u s t not r e a l l y know it is there. If he knew of the gold

and of D e a t h ' s w a i t i n g under the t r e e , he w o u l d l o g i c a l l y 37

have stayed t h e r e r a t h e r than go on. The only reason

that the old man sent .the three r e v e l l e r s to the oak was

3 5 I b i d . , p. 51. 3 6 I b i d .

3 7 1 bid.

71

that he wanted to be rid of them and be on his way after

they had threatened him:

Thou partest nat so lightly, by Seint John! Thou spak right now of thi'lke traytour Deeth That in this contree alle oure freendes sleeth Have heer my trouthe, as thou art his espye, Telle where he is, or thou shalt it abye, By God, and by the hooly s acrement! For soothly thou art oon of his assent To sleen us yonge folk, thou false theef! (lines 752-759).

There is a theory which accounts for the old man's not

staying with the gold to find his death; greed causes death,

not actually the gold, and the old man has no longer any feelings q o

of greed. If the old man literally seeks death, why should

he fear the threats of the young men and send them on a useless

errand? Would he not more 1ogi cal1y submi t there and then and

find his long-sought-after rest? In the argument that the old

man is not Death personified, it is asserted that if the old

man is in any way allegorical, he knows the meaning of his

own words and consequently the dramatic irony and allegory 39

fail. It also points out the weakness of the irony in the

accusation that the old man is a spy of Death if he is intended

allegorically as t h a t . ^

Chaucer leaves unanswered many questions about the old

man: who he is; where he comes from; where he is going;

whose gold is beneath the tree; how it got there. All of

these points Chaucer has deliberately obscured; they are what 3 8 H a m i 1 ton, p. 572. 39tf. J. B. Owen, p. 52. 4 0 rb id .

72

have led scholars to call the old men mysterious.4"' He is seen

from the limited point of view of the three revellers, who con-

sider him totally unimportant. 4^ They notice only that he is

old, and they immediately forget him when they see the gold.

He is ironically of great importance to the three, since he

shows them exactly the place to find what they have sworn to

find.

Thi s macabre tale clearly shows a fascination with death

on the part of the teller of the tale, the' Pardoner. One

critic has said that the Pardoner and the old man are sym-

bolically the same, and that the Pardoner is representative of

vetus homo, or the "old man" of the flesh, as contrasted with

' rio V us' homo, or "new man" of the spirit, and that likewise the

old man in the tale is also representative of vetus homo and

appropriately directs the three young revellers up the crooked

w a y . ^ The three revellers find their own deaths by following

the advice of vetus homo, in the form of the old man, and not

that of the novus homo, who is in this tale represented by the 45

tavern boy, a symbolic opposite of the old man. He initiates

the search by the three for Death and the old man terminates a &

it. Further symbolism existing in the implied relationship

of the tavern boy and the old man is that both refer to their

mothers. One critic believes that the theory of the womb-tomb 4^Ibi d. , p. 50. 42ibid., p. 49.

4 3 D a v i d , p. 42. 4 4 M i l l e r , p. 197.

4 5 I b i d . 46-r0dd, p. 35.

73

cycle is implied here, that is, that the mother is the first

world of the child and the last world of the a d u l t . 4 7 He

believes this implication can be found in the text: "And on

the ground, which is my moodres gate, / I knokke with my scaf,

bothe erly' and late" (lines 729-730). The words "erly" and

"late" are the key, corresponding to the womb-tomb theory.

However the old man may be interpreted, he is connected

either directly or indirectly with death. As some critics

point out, his pointing the way to the oak tree is specifically

symbolic of his connection with death. In some folktales

there is the belief that Death is excluded from sacred groves;

therefore, the old man, representing Death, can only direct

the three revellers there, but he can not go there himself.

This theory, however, ignores the fact that the old man has

just been in that grove;' he says to the revellers, "For in

that grove I lafte hym, by my fey" (line 762).

The single oak tree itself is sacred to all Aryan nations

in Europe as "the tree of the dead and the abode of the departed

s p i r i t s . " T h e r e was a ceremonial ritual performed in various

parts of Europe in connection with the coming of spring in

which.an effigy of Death was buried u n d e r an oak tree so that

47ik-jd. 4 8 B a r a k a t , p. 212.

. . 4 9 I b i d . , as .quoted, from. Maria Leach, editor, 'Dictions of Folklore , Mythology and 'Legend. (New York, 1950), II, 806.

74

he would depart from the p e o p l e . ^ That ceremony established

an association between the oak tree and death. In other folk

legends the oak tree symboli zes death by its association with C I

the cross, the gallows, and the stake. According to one

scholar, there is a parallel between the "ook" of The Pardoner's

Tale and the tree bearing forbidden fruit in the Garden of

Eden. Both trees change from being life-giving plants to

sources of everlasting death, both as a result of sin committed

at their b a s e s . ^ The "ook" symbolizes cu'piditas , for it is

the tree of evil or of death, at whose roots the three revellers

find earthly treasure, not the treasure of Heaven for which 53

they should have been seeking.

The symbolic advice of the old man to the three revellers

enables them to fi nd Death, but not to si ay Death as they had

vowed. The symbolism in his words is explained by one scholar

who believes the "croked wey" is symbolic because of its being

the opposite of the straight and narrow; the words "in that

grove" really mean in that false paradise of cupidity; and

"under a tree" is symbolic because that is where Adam and Eve

first found Death .

In another interpretation of the Pardoner's story, the

gold florins found at the base of the oak are the symbolic ^ F r e d e r i c k H. Candelaria, "Chaucer's 'Fowle Ok' and The

Pardoner' s Tale," Modern Language Notes, LXXI (.May, 1956), 321.

^ T o d d , p. 38. 52Ib±d.-

5 3Mi H e r , p. 1 96. 5 4Ibid.

75

fruit of the great Mother Earth as is the wine which poisons 5 5

two of the revellers. Thus, if the "mother" about whom

the old man speaks is Mother Earth, she has brought death to

the three by her fruits.

The deaths of the three are foreshadowed by the line,

"No 1enger thanne after Deeth they sought" (line 772), which

appears in the tale after they find the gold and forget their

•vow to slay Death. They need no longer seek Death; though

they do not realize it, they have found him. Although the

old man directs them to where he says Death is waiting, the

gold they find there is not itself Death; Death lies in the

a-varice of men. One specific form of avarice is pointed out

which might be significant, though it would be difficult to

decide if Chaucer intended the implication. Since the laws of

that day allowed that "treasure" belonged not to the finder,

but to the king, the revellers, in their plan to use the gold S7

themselves, also committed thievery. The Pardoner's Tale is not only a tale about physical

life and death, but also about spiritual life and death in C Q

the Christian sense, The three revellers are physically

but not spiritually young, and they represent what has already

5 5 T o d d , p. 38. r £*

. Charles A. Owen, Jr., "The Crucial Passages in Five of the Canterbury Tales: A Study in Irony and Symbol," J E G P , III (July, 1953} P 304.

57 Joel Roach, "Treasure Trove in The Pardoner's Tale,"

JEGP , LXIV (January, 1965), 1. 5^David, p. 41.

76

been called the yetus homo or old man, the man of sin not 59

yet reborn in Christ. Their spiritual blindness prevents

their recognizing Death when they find it under the oak. They

do not notice that they break the oath of brotherhood and become

full of g r e e d . T h e contrast between the quest of Death

personified and what the three find, actual physical death,

emphasizes the spiritual death which the revellers suffer

when they allow greed to overcome them. "Physical death

conies to all; but spiritual death is the root of all evil."®''

The quest of the three to slay Death is not entirely meaningless;

in Christian belief, the virtuous man should slay Death, which

is the inheritance of the vetus homo, or the old man of f l e s h . ^

The Pardoner's Tale has many strong examples of dramatic

irony which develop the theme of Death. Since dramatic irony

requires that a character not recognize the full impact of

what he says or does, the eagerness with which death is sought

by the revellers is in perfect contrast with the ease with

which it is f o u n d . C o n c e r n i n g the old man, there is

dramatic irony in his haste to be on his way in search of

Death, a haste which leads him away from his goal. This

irony is existent only if the old man is considered literally. 6 4

The-.dramatic-irony of the old man's si tuation is intensified 5 9Mi1ler , p. 195. 6 0Ibid., p. 196. 6 1 Ibid. 6 2lbid. , p. 194. 6 3 R o o t , p. 227. 6 4 W . 0. B. Owen, p. 52,

7 7

by hi s portrayal as having outlived all ordinary human desires

and weaknesses , including the vice most characteristic of old f h

age, the love of money.

Death is allegorized in several possible ways in The

Pardoner's Tale, but the theme of the Dance of Death is most

clearly seen if the old man is considered a personification of

Death. It is obvious that he fits rather neatly into the char-

acterization of the shrouded figure in the early depictions of

the Dance of Death. He does not in any way deliver a summons,

but he does lead the revel 1ers to their deaths. The character-

istic moral idea that all mortals must eventually meet Death

is carried out through the personification of Death in the minds

of the three young men. The idea is carried farther to point

out that Death is in different forms for different individuals,

from the plague to avarice.

The use of three young men by Chaucer may have been

related to the Troi s Vi fs of the Dance of Death motif. They,

however, fail to see that the gold under the tree is actually

themselves dead, or their deaths.

As a tale of Death, The Pardoner's Tale is perhaps both

symbolic and literal, for Death is presented on many levels and

in many ways. Chaucer artistically di splays all of these symbols

of Death against a background of literal death resulting from

the universally recognized horror, the Bubonic plague. All of

these images combine to make an intensely macabre tale.

^ H a m i l t o n , p. 512.

CHAPTER V

CONCLUSION

A stucly of the personification of Death in later Middle

English literature makes some conclusions clear. Not only did

the preoccupation with ever-present death lead to its thematic

use in 1i terature, but its frequent use in literature must surely

have nurtured that preoccupation. Although the death theme

itself doubtless 1ost some of its impact in repetition, causing

a shift of attention to the physical changes undergone by the

body after death, the universal inevitability of death kept it

A foremost fear.

When death became personified, some fairly constant trends

were developed, the character Death himself being one example.

In The Dance of Death, Everyman, Castle of Perseverance, and

The Pardoner's Tale, Death appears with various personalities,

but he is always a messenger.

The Dance of Death is the basis for the development of

the character Death. Although portrayed in various ways in

various depictions, he is basically a partially shrouded

figure, usually a skeleton, carrying a spear, who delivers his

summons to everyone. He appears at times sympathetic, at times

vengeful , but always unrelenting.

In the moral plays, personified Death is once again a

messenger or the deliverer of a summons. In Everyman Death

is a c om passionate but firm messenger from God. In The Cast! e

78

79

of Perseverance he is mocking and sarcastic, as though on an

errand for the Devil, but he is nevertheless a messenger.

In The Pardoner's Tale the character of Death is not

so clear-cut. First introduced through the conversation

concerning, his recent ravages, he is characterized as a

vengeful thief. Further in the tale the three revellers

come upon an old man whom they assume to be Death because

of his appearance: he is old, dressed in a shroud, and

going about the countryside. He delivers what may be con-

sidered a message when he directs the three to the gold and

to their deaths.

Besides the character Death himself, there is another

aspect of the personification which is always developed even

more obviously. That is the idea of Death's ultimate power

oyer all men. This idea, is fully developed in The Dance of

Death, in which all social levels are portrayed, from Pope

to Hermit. In the morality plays all levels of society are

represented in the single characters of Everyman and Mankind,

both pf whom represent all men.

In The Pardoner 1 s Tale Death's summons is more subtle and

the tale is more complex, but it is still present. In the

ta-vern boy's warning there is the threat of death even for

three men still in their youth. The medieval idea that no

one is safe underlies the general theme of pestilence arid

mortality in this tale.

80

O n e f u r t h e r d e v e ] opnient of D e a t h ' s p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n , one

s e e n in all the w o r k s s t u d i e d h e r e , is the m o t i f of the p r o -

c e s s i o n f o l l o w i n g D e a t h or m o v i n g t o w a r d D e a t h . T h e b a s i c

t h e m e is a g a i n T h e D a n c e of D e a t h , in w h i c h a d a n c i n g D e a t h

l e a d s a p r o c e s s i o n of u n w i l l i n g i n d i v i d u a l s to t h e i r i n e v i t a b l e

e n d s , a m o t i f a l s o a p p a r e n t in the m o r a l i t y p l a y s s t u d i e d .

E v e r y m a n is m a k i n g a j o u r n e y to the g r a v e , but it is a

p r o c e s s i o n o n l y in the s e n s e that he is o b e y i n g the u n a v o i d a b l e

call to f o l l o w D e a t h and is a c c o m p a n i e d by a d e c r e a s i n g h o s t

pf f o l l o w e r s . M a n k i n d ' s p r o c e s s i o n is m o m e n t a r i l y d e l a y e d

s e v e r a l t i m e s , but it l e a d s e v e r to the i n e s c a p a b l e c o n c l u s i o n .

A p r o c e s s i o n is b e g u n in T h e P a r d o n e r ' s T a l e w h e n the

t h r e e r e v e l l e r s l e a v e the t a v e r n in t h e i r s e a r c h f o r D e a t h .

T h e y p r o c e e d s t r a i g h t to w h a t they s e e k , a l t h o u g h e n r o u t e

t h e y f o r g e t w h a t t h e y are s e e k i n g . T h e c o n c e p t of D e a t h

w h i c h t h e y c a r r y in t h e i r mi rids is. the l e a d e r in t h e i r p r o -

c e s s i o n . T h u s , the p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n of D e a t h in l a t e r M i d d l e

E n g l i s h l i t e r a t u r e f o l l o w s a c l e a r l y t r a c e a b l e p a t t e r n , w h i c h

has its s o u r c e in s e v e r a l c o n t i n e n t a l v e r s i o n s of T h e D a n c e

sof D e a t h .

B I B L I O G R A P H Y

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