Everyman and Other Old Religious Plays, with an Introduction
A >> Anonymous >> Everyman and Other Old Religious Plays, with an IntroductionI have with fearcenesse mankynde oft tymes corrected,
And agayne I have allured hym by swete promes.
I have sent sore plages, when he hath me neglected,
And then by and by, most confortable swetnes.
To wynne hym to grace, bothe mercye and ryghteousnes
I have exercysed, yet wyll he not amende.
Shall I now lose hym, or shall I hym defende?
And what could be finer than the setting he gives to the antiphon, _O
Oriens Splendor_, at the end of the second act?
To turn from Bayle's play to the heart-breaking realities of _Everyman_
is like turning from a volume of all too edifying sermons to the last
chapters of one of the gospels. Into the full history of this play,
opening a difficult question about the early relations between Dutch and
English writers and printers, there is no room here to go. The Dutch
_Everyman_--_Elckerlijk_--was in all probability the original of the
English, and it was certainly printed a few years earlier. Richard
Pynson, who first imprinted the English play at the Sign of the George
in Fleet Street, was printing at his press there from the early years of
the sixteenth century. The play itself may have been written, and first
performed, in English, as in Dutch, a generation or more before.
It was written, no doubt, like most of the plays in this volume, by a
churchman; and he must have been a man of profound imagination, and of
the tenderest human soul conceivable. His ecclesiastical habit becomes
clear enough before the end of the play, where he bids Everyman go and
confess his sins. Like many of the more poignant scenes and passages in
the miracle-plays that follow it, this morality too leaves one
exclaiming on how good a thing was the plain English of the fourteenth
and fifteenth centuries.
The relation of the several miracle-plays here printed to the
town-cycles from which they come will be seen at a glance on reference
to the tables of pageants that appear in the Appendix. We may take it
that all these town and country plays represent continually used and
frequently tinkered texts, that must in some cases have passed through
many piecemeal changes. In making them easy to the average reader of
to-day, who takes the place of the mediaeval playgoer at a Corpus Christi
festival, their latest copyists have but followed in the wake of a
series of Tudor scribes who renewed the prompt-books from time to time.
In this process, apart from the change of spelling, the smallest
possible alteration has been made consistent with the bringing of the
text to a fair modern level of intelligibility. Old words that have been
familiarised in Malory or Shakespeare, or the Bible, or in the Border
Ballads and north-country books, or in Walter Scott, or the modern
dialect of Yorkshire, are usually allowed to stand, and words needed to
keep the rhyme, are left intact. But really hard words, likely to delay
the reader, are glossed. One Towneley play, the _Extractio Animarum_,
another and a most spirited example of the "Harrowing of Hell,"
mysteries that thrilled the people long ago, is given in the original
spelling, as some test of the change effected in the others. Further, in
the Appendix will be found a late example of a _St. George and the
Dragon_ doggerel Christmas play, which comes from Cornwall, and which in
a slightly varying form has been played in many shires, from Wessex to
Tyneside, within living memory. This shows us the last state of the
traditional mystery, and the English folk-play as it became when it was
left to the village wits and playwrights to produce it, without any
co-operation from the trained eye and hand of a parson or a learned
clerk. Of some other forms of our earlier drama, not omitting the Welsh
interludes of Twm o'r Nant, it may be possible to give illustrations in
a later book, companion to this. Only so much is given here as may
interest the reader, who is a playgoer first of all, and asks for
entertainment and a light in these darker passages of the old British
drama.
* * * * *
Finally the amplest acknowledgments are due to those who have worked
upon these present plays, including Mrs. C. Richardson, M.A., Mr.
O'Brien, Mr. Roberts, Miss Hawkins, G. R., and Mr. Ezra Pound; and to
the various editors of the "Early English Text Society," who have made
this book possible. Especially should tribute be paid to Dr. Furnivall
for his permission to make use of the Society's texts, and his interest
in this uncertain attempt to capture the outer public too, and attract
it to that ever-living literature to which he has devoted so many days
of his young old-age.
E. R.
* * * * *
Everyman: a moral play otherwise called: A Treatyse how the hye fader of
heven sendeth dethe to somon every creature to come and gyve a counte of
theyr lyves in this worlde], translated from the Dutch play, Elckerlijk,
1520 (?); published in Dodsley's Select Collection of Old English Plays,
etc., vol. I., 1874; reprint of one of Skot's editions, collated with
his other edition and those of Pynson, Ed. H. Logeman, 1892; with an
introduction by F. Sidgwick, 1902; reprinted by W. W. Greg from the
Edition by John Skot preserved at Britwell Court, 1904; set to music by
H. Walford Davies, etc. (with historical and analytical notes), 1904; J.
S. Farmer, Six Anonymous Plays (Early English Dramatists), 1905; with
designs by Ambrose Dudley, 1906; in Broadway Booklets, 1906; with
introduction, note-book, and word list, J. S. Farmer (Museum
Dramatists), 1906.
Miracle Plays: Towneley Mysteries, ed. by Surtees Society, 1836;
Pollard, Early English Text Society, 1897. York Mysteries, ed. Lucy
Toulmin Smith, 1885. Chester Mysteries, ed. Th. Wright, Shakespeare
Society, 1843-47; Deimling, Early English Text Society, 1893, etc.; T.
H. Markland (two plays), Roxburghe Club, 1818. Coventry Mysteries, ed.
Halliwell, Shakespeare Society, 1841. See also Sharp, Dissertation on
the Coventry Mysteries. For other Mysteries see Davidson, Modern
Language Notes, vii.; E. Norris, Ancient Cornish Drama, 1859.
Selections, or Separate Plays: Harrowing of Hell, ed. Halliwell, 1840;
Collier, Five Miracle Plays, 1867; Dr. E. Mall, 1871; A. W. Pollard,
English Miracle Plays, 1895; Specimens of the Pre-Shakespearean Drama,
1897, 2 vols. (a third vol. to come), Prof. Manly. See J. H. Kirkham
(Enquiry into Sources, etc.), 1885. Abraham and Isaac, ed. L. Toulmin
Smith (Brome Hall MS.), 1886; R. Brotanek (Dublin MS.), Anglia, xxi.
General Literature: Ward, History of English Dramatic Literature,
1875-6; Payne Collier, The History of English Dramatic Poetry, 1879; K.
Hase, Miracle Plays, trans. A. W. Jackson, 1880; C. Davidson, Studies in
English Mystery Plays, 1892; A. W. Pollard, English Miracle Plays,
Moralities, and Interludes, Specimens of pre-Elizabethan Drama, etc.,
1895; K. Chambers, The Mediaeval Stage, 1903; A full bibliography is
given in F. H. Stoddard, References for Students of Miracle Plays and
Mysteries, 1887.
CONTENTS
Introduction vii
Everyman 1
The Deluge 27
Abraham, Melchisedec, and Isaac 39
The Wakefield Second Shepherds' Play 55
The Coventry Nativity Play 79
The Wakefield Miracle-Play of the Crucifixion 105
The Cornish Mystery-Play of the Three Maries 127
The Mystery of Mary Magdalene and the Apostles 137
The Wakefield Pageant of the Harrowing of Hell 147
God's Promises 163
Appendices 193
CHARACTERS
Everyman
God: Adonai
Death
Messenger
Fellowship
Cousin
Kindred
Goods
Good-Deeds
Strength
Discretion
Five-Wits
Beauty
Knowledge
Confession
Angel
Doctor
EVERYMAN
HERE BEGINNETH A TREATISE HOW THE HIGH FATHER OF HEAVEN SENDETH
DEATH TO SUMMON EVERY CREATURE TO COME AND GIVE ACCOUNT OF THEIR
LIVES IN THIS WORLD AND IS IN MANNER OF A MORAL PLAY.
_Messenger._ I pray you all give your audience,
And hear this matter with reverence,
By figure a moral play--
The _Summoning of Everyman_ called it is,
That of our lives and ending shows
How transitory we be all day.
This matter is wondrous precious,
But the intent of it is more gracious,
And sweet to bear away.
The story saith,--Man, in the beginning,
Look well, and take good heed to the ending,
Be you never so gay!
Ye think sin in the beginning full sweet,
Which in the end causeth thy soul to weep,
When the body lieth in clay.
Here shall you see how _Fellowship_ and _Jollity_,
Both _Strength_, _Pleasure_, and _Beauty_,
Will fade from thee as flower in May.
For ye shall hear, how our heaven king
Calleth _Everyman_ to a general reckoning:
Give audience, and hear what he doth say.
_God._ I perceive here in my majesty,
How that all creatures be to me unkind,
Living without dread in worldly prosperity:
Of ghostly sight the people be so blind,
Drowned in sin, they know me not for their God;
In worldly riches is all their mind,
They fear not my rightwiseness, the sharp rod;
My law that I shewed, when I for them died,
They forget clean, and shedding of my blood red;
I hanged between two, it cannot be denied;
To get them life I suffered to be dead;
I healed their feet, with thorns hurt was my head:
I could do no more than I did truly,
And now I see the people do clean forsake me.
They use the seven deadly sins damnable;
As pride, covetise, wrath, and lechery,
Now in the world be made commendable;
And thus they leave of angels the heavenly company;
Everyman liveth so after his own pleasure,
And yet of their life they be nothing sure:
I see the more that I them forbear
The worse they be from year to year;
All that liveth appaireth[7] fast,
Therefore I will in all the haste
Have a reckoning of Everyman's person
For and I leave the people thus alone
In their life and wicked tempests,
Verily they will become much worse than beasts;
For now one would by envy another up eat;
Charity they all do clean forget.
I hoped well that Everyman
In my glory should make his mansion,
And thereto I had them all elect;
But now I see, like traitors deject,
They thank me not for the pleasure that I to them meant,
Nor yet for their being that I them have lent;
I proffered the people great multitude of mercy,
And few there be that asketh it heartily;
They be so cumbered with worldly riches,
That needs on them I must do justice,
On Everyman living without fear.
Where art thou, _Death_, thou mighty messenger?
_Death._ Almighty God, I am here at your will,
Your commandment to fulfil.
_God._ Go thou to _Everyman_,
And show him in my name
A pilgrimage he must on him take,
Which he in no wise may escape;
And that he bring with him a sure reckoning
Without delay or any tarrying.
_Death._ Lord, I will in the world go run over all,
And cruelly outsearch both great and small;
Every man will I beset that liveth beastly
Out of God's laws, and dreadeth not folly:
He that loveth riches I will strike with my dart,
His sight to blind, and from heaven to depart,
Except that alms be his good friend,
In hell for to dwell, world without end.
Lo, yonder I see _Everyman_ walking;
Full little he thinketh on my coming;
His mind is on fleshly lusts and his treasure,
And great pain it shall cause him to endure
Before the Lord Heaven King.
_Everyman_, stand still; whither art thou going
Thus gaily? Hast thou thy Maker forget?
_Everyman._ Why askst thou?
Wouldest thou wete?[8]
_Death._ Yea, sir, I will show you;
In great haste I am sent to thee
From God out of his majesty.
_Everyman._ What, sent to me?
_Death._ Yea, certainly.
Though thou have forget him here,
He thinketh on thee in the heavenly sphere,
As, or we depart, thou shalt know.
_Everyman._ What desireth God of me?
_Death._ That shall I show thee;
A reckoning he will needs have
Without any longer respite.
_Everyman._ To give a reckoning longer leisure I crave;
This blind matter troubleth my wit.
_Death._ On thee thou must take a long journey:
Therefore thy book of count with thee thou bring;
For turn again thou can not by no way,
And look thou be sure of thy reckoning:
For before God thou shalt answer, and show
Thy many bad deeds and good but a few;
How thou hast spent thy life, and in what wise,
Before the chief lord of paradise.
Have ado that we were in that way,
For, wete thou well, thou shalt make none attournay.[9]
_Everyman._ Full unready I am such reckoning to give.
I know thee not: what messenger art thou?
_Death._ I am _Death_, that no man dreadeth.
For every man I rest and no man spareth;
For it is God's commandment
That all to me should be obedient.
_Everyman._ O _Death_, thou comest when I had thee least in mind;
In thy power it lieth me to save,
Yet of my good will I give thee, if ye will be kind,
Yea, a thousand pound shalt thou have,
And defer this matter till another day.
_Death._ _Everyman_, it may not be by no way;
I set not by gold, silver, nor riches,
Ne by pope, emperor, king, duke, ne princes.
For and I would receive gifts great,
All the world I might get;
But my custom is clean contrary.
I give thee no respite: come hence, and not tarry.
_Everyman._ Alas, shall I have no longer respite?
I may say _Death_ giveth no warning:
To think on thee, it maketh my heart sick,
For all unready is my book of reckoning.
But twelve year and I might have abiding,
My counting book I would make so clear,
That my reckoning I should not need to fear.
Wherefore, _Death_, I pray thee, for God's mercy,
Spare me till I be provided of remedy.
_Death._ Thee availeth not to cry, weep, and pray:
But haste thee lightly that you were gone the journey,
And prove thy friends if thou can.
For, wete thou well, the tide abideth no man,
And in the world each living creature
For _Adam's_ sin must die of nature.
_Everyman._ _Death_, if I should this pilgrimage take,
And my reckoning surely make,
Show me, for saint _charity_,
Should I not come again shortly?
_Death._ No, _Everyman_; and thou be once there,
Thou mayst never more come here,
Trust me verily.
_Everyman._ O gracious God, in the high seat celestial,
Have mercy on me in this most need;
Shall I have no company from this vale terrestrial
Of mine acquaintance that way me to lead?
_Death._ Yea, if any be so hardy,
That would go with thee and bear thee company.
Hie thee that you were gone to God's magnificence,
Thy reckoning to give before his presence.
What, weenest thou thy life is given thee,
And thy worldly goods also?
_Everyman._ I had wend so, verily.
_Death._ Nay, nay; it was but lent thee;
For as soon as thou art go,
Another awhile shall have it, and then go therefro
Even as thou hast done.
_Everyman_, thou art mad; thou hast thy wits five,
And here on earth will not amend thy life,
For suddenly I do come.
_Everyman._ O wretched caitiff, whither shall I flee,
That I might scape this endless sorrow!
Now, gentle _Death_, spare me till to-morrow,
That I may amend me
With good advisement.
_Death._ Nay, thereto I will not consent,
Nor no man will I respite,
But to the heart suddenly I shall smite
Without any advisement.
And now out of thy sight I will me hie;
See thou make thee ready shortly,
For thou mayst say this is the day
That no man living may scape away.
_Everyman._ Alas, I may well weep with sighs deep;
Now have I no manner of company
To help me in my journey, and me to keep;
And also my writing is full unready.
How shall I do now for to excuse me?
I would to God I had never be gete![10]
To my soul a full great profit it had be;
For now I fear pains huge and great.
The time passeth; Lord, help that all wrought;
For though I mourn it availeth nought.
The day passeth, and is almost a-go;
I wot not well what for to do.
To whom were I best my complaint to make?
What, and I to _Fellowship_ thereof spake,
And showed him of this sudden chance?
For in him is all mine affiance;
We have in the world so many a day
Be on good friends in sport and play.
I see him yonder, certainly;
I trust that he will bear me company;
Therefore to him will I speak to ease my sorrow.
Well met, good _Fellowship_, and good morrow!
_Fellowship speaketh._ _Everyman_, good morrow by this day.
Sir, why lookest thou so piteously?
If any thing be amiss, I pray thee, me say,
That I may help to remedy.
_Everyman._ Yea, good _Fellowship_, yea,
I am in great jeopardy.
_Fellowship._ My true friend, show to me your mind;
I will not forsake thee, unto my life's end,
In the way of good company.
_Everyman._ That was well spoken, and lovingly.
_Fellowship._ Sir, I must needs know your heaviness;
I have pity to see you in any distress;
If any have you wronged ye shall revenged be,
Though I on the ground be slain for thee,--
Though that I know before that I should die.
_Everyman._ Verily, _Fellowship_, gramercy.
_Fellowship._ Tush! by thy thanks I set not a straw.
Show me your grief, and say no more.
_Everyman._ If I my heart should to you break,
And then you to turn your mind from me,
And would not me comfort, when you hear me speak,
Then should I ten times sorrier be.
_Fellowship._ Sir, I say as I will do in deed.
_Everyman._ Then be you a good friend at need:
I have found you true here before.
_Fellowship._ And so ye shall evermore;
For, in faith, and thou go to Hell,
I will not forsake thee by the way!
_Everyman._ Ye speak like a good friend; I believe you well;
I shall deserve it, and I may.
_Fellowship._ I speak of no deserving, by this day.
For he that will say and nothing do
Is not worthy with good company to go;
Therefore show me the grief of your mind,
As to your friend most loving and kind.
_Everyman._ I shall show you how it is;
Commanded I am to go a journey,
A long way, hard and dangerous,
And give a strait count without delay
Before the high judge Adonai.[11]
Wherefore I pray you, bear me company,
As ye have promised, in this journey.
_Fellowship._ That is matter indeed! Promise is duty,
But, and I should take such a voyage on me,
I know it well, it should be to my pain:
Also it make me afeard, certain.
But let us take counsel here as well as we can,
For your words would fear a strong man.
_Everyman._ Why, ye said, If I had need,
Ye would me never forsake, quick nor dead,
Though it were to hell truly.
_Fellowship._ So I said, certainly,
But such pleasures be set aside, thee sooth to say:
And also, if we took such a journey,
When should we come again?
_Everyman._ Nay, never again till the day of doom.
_Fellowship._ In faith, then will not I come there!
Who hath you these tidings brought?
_Everyman._ Indeed, _Death_ was with me here.
_Fellowship._ Now, by God that all hath bought,
If _Death_ were the messenger,
For no man that is living to-day
I will not go that loath journey--
Not for the father that begat me!
_Everyman._ Ye promised other wise, pardie.
_Fellowship._ I wot well I say so truly;
And yet if thou wilt eat, and drink, and make good cheer,
Or haunt to women, the lusty company,
I would not forsake you, while the day is clear,
Trust me verily!
_Everyman._ Yea, thereto ye would be ready;
To go to mirth, solace, and play,
Your mind will sooner apply
Than to bear me company in my long journey.
_Fellowship._ Now, in good faith, I will not that way.
But and thou wilt murder, or any man kill,
In that I will help thee with a good will!
_Everyman._ O that is a simple advice indeed!
Gentle _fellow_, help me in my necessity;
We have loved long, and now I need,
And now, gentle _Fellowship_, remember me.
_Fellowship._ Whether ye have loved me or no,
By Saint John, I will not with thee go.
_Everyman._ Yet I pray thee, take the labour, and do so much for me
To bring me forward, for saint charity,
And comfort me till I come without the town.
_Fellowship._ Nay, and thou would give me a new gown,
I will not a foot with thee go;
But and you had tarried I would not have left thee so.
And as now, God speed thee in thy journey,
For from thee I will depart as fast as I may.
_Everyman._ Whither away, _Fellowship_? will you forsake me?
_Fellowship._ Yea, by my fay, to God I betake thee.
_Everyman._ Farewell, good _Fellowship_; for this my heart is sore;
Adieu for ever, I shall see thee no more.
_Fellowship._ In faith, _Everyman_, farewell now at the end;
For you I will remember that parting is mourning.
_Everyman._ Alack! shall we thus depart indeed?
Our Lady, help, without any more comfort,
Lo, _Fellowship_ forsaketh me in my most need:
For help in this world whither shall I resort?
_Fellowship_ herebefore with me would merry make;
And now little sorrow for me doth he take.
It is said, in prosperity men friends may find,
Which in adversity be full unkind.
Now whither for succour shall I flee,
Sith that _Fellowship_ hath forsaken me?
To my kinsmen I will truly,
Praying them to help me in my necessity;
I believe that they will do so,
For kind will creep where it may not go.
I will go say, for yonder I see them go.
Where be ye now, my friends and kinsmen?
_Kindred._ Here be we now at your commandment.
_Cousin_, I pray you show us your intent
In any wise, and not spare.
_Cousin._ Yea, _Everyman_, and to us declare
If ye be disposed to go any whither,
For wete you well, we will live and die together.
_Kindred._ In wealth and woe we will with you hold,
For over his kin a man may be bold.
_Everyman._ Gramercy, my friends and kinsmen kind.
Now shall I show you the grief of my mind:
I was commanded by a messenger,
That is an high king's chief officer;
He bade me go a pilgrimage to my pain,
And I know well I shall never come again;
Also I must give a reckoning straight,
For I have a great enemy, that hath me in wait,
Which intendeth me for to hinder.
_Kindred._ What account is that which ye must render?
That would I know.
_Everyman._ Of all my works I must show
How I have lived and my days spent;
Also of ill deeds, that I have used
In my time, sith life was me lent;
And of all virtues that I have refused.
Therefore I pray you go thither with me,
To help to make mine account, for saint _charity_.
_Cousin._ What, to go thither? Is that the matter?
Nay, _Everyman_, I had liefer fast bread and water
All this five year and more.
_Everyman._ Alas, that ever I was bore![12]
For now shall I never be merry
If that you forsake me.
_Kindred._ Ah, sir; what, ye be a merry man!
Take good heart to you, and make no moan.
But one thing I warn you, by Saint Anne,
As for me, ye shall go alone.
_Everyman._ My _Cousin_, will you not with me go?
_Cousin._ No, by our Lady; I have the cramp in my toe.
Trust not to me, for, so God me speed,
I will deceive you in your most need,
_Kindred._ It availeth not us to tice.
Ye shall have my maid with all my heart;
She loveth to go to feasts, there to be nice,
And to dance, and abroad to start:
I will give her leave to help you in that journey,
If that you and she may agree.
_Everyman._ Now show me the very effect of your mind.
Will you go with me, or abide behind?
_Kindred._ Abide behind? yea, that I will and I may!
Therefore farewell until another day.
_Everyman._ How should I be merry or glad?
For fair promises to me make,
But when I have most need, they me forsake.
I am deceived; that maketh me sad.
_Cousin._ Cousin _Everyman_, farewell now,
For verily I will not go with you;
Also of mine own an unready reckoning
I have to account; therefore I make tarrying.
Now, God keep thee, for now I go.
_Everyman._ Ah, _Jesus_, is all come hereto?
Lo, fair words maketh fools feign;
They promise and nothing will do certain.
My kinsmen promised me faithfully
For to abide with me steadfastly,
And now fast away do they flee:
Even so _Fellowship_ promised me.
What friend were best me of to provide?
I lose my time here longer to abide.
Yet in my mind a thing there is;--
All my life I have loved riches;
If that my good now help me might,
He would make my heart full light.
I will speak to him in this distress.--
Where art thou, my _Goods_ and riches?
_Goods._ Who calleth me? _Everyman?_ what haste thou hast!
I lie here in corners, trussed and piled so high,
And in chests I am locked so fast,
Also sacked in bags, thou mayst see with thine eye,
I cannot stir; in packs low I lie.
What would ye have, lightly me say.
_Everyman._ Come hither, _Good_, in all the haste thou may,
For of counsel I must desire thee.
_Goods._ Sir, and ye in the world have trouble or adversity,
That can I help you to remedy shortly.
_Everyman._ It is another disease that grieveth me;
In this world it is not, I tell thee so.
I am sent for another way to go,
To give a straight account general
Before the highest _Jupiter_ of all;
And all my life I have had joy and pleasure in thee.
Therefore I pray thee go with me,
For, peradventure, thou mayst before God Almighty
My reckoning help to clean and purify;
For it is said ever among,
That money maketh all right that is wrong.