'PAYMENTS of ther Wages of Corpus Christi Day.

Imprimis, to God, ij*•

Item, to Cayphas, iij. iiijd.
Item, to Heroude, iijs. iiijd.
Item, to Pilatteis wyffe, ijs
Item, to the bedull, iiijd.
Item, to one of the knights, ijs
Item, to the devyll and to Judas,
xviijd.

Item, to Petur and Malkus, xvjd.

Item, to Anna, ijs. ijd.

Item, to Pilatte, iiijs.

Item, to Pilatteis sonne, iiijd.

ma, xxviijs.

The mynstrell, xiiijd.

Under other dates there are sometimes entries of payments of subordinate performers, of which we give one, because it relates to the same play as the payments just mentioned, and because the duties performed by this particular player are peculiar. It is this:

'pd to Fawston for hangyng Judas, iiijd. pd to Fawston for coc-croyng, iiijd.

The dresses of the characters appear in some cases to have been expensive, and the continual entries of payments for mending or renewing them give us a tolerable idea of their character; but these entries are often made with a naïveté which shocks our notions of propriety, and show us that the Wycliffite preachers were right in urging that the tendency of such performances was rather to spread a feeling of irreverence for things sacred than to promote religious feeling. Thus we have frequently such items as: 'Item, payd for the spret (spirit) of Gods cote, ijs. We learn from these entries that God's coat was of leather, painted and gilt, and that he had a wig of false hair, also gilt. Caiphas and Annas were robed as bishops. Herod appears to have had a mask, which, from the allusions to his character, had probably a ferocious look: there are many payments for mending and painting his head, and he had a helmet and crest, which appear to have

sceptre. Pilate's wife was a more important personage, as she figures in a dream wherein she was admonished to warn her husband as to his proceedings with regard to the SAVIOUR. She was named in the medieval legend Dame Procula, and, as she was dressed in a gown of the first fashion, it seems to have been customary to borrow one for the occasion from the most stylishdressing dame in the town. We have an entry to the following effect: 'Item, to reward to Maisturres Grymesby for lendyng of her geir ffor Pylats wyfe, xija" The devil seems to have been dressed in leather; his head required often mending and painting; fourpence is on one occasion paid for a staff for him, and there are continual charges for painting his club. It is hardly worth our labor to speak in detail of the dresses of the minor characters; it may simply be remarked that the canvas of Judas's coat cost two shillings, and that tenpence was paid for making it; that Peter had a wig, and apparently a long beard; and that the beadle was dressed in a jacket and hood.

The stage, as we have already stated, was raised upon wheels, and it consisted of one, two, and sometimes of three floors, representing respectively heaven, earth, and the infernal regions. The contrivances for producing stage effect seem to have been extremely ingenious, and sometimes complicated. The records we have been quoting throw little light on this part of the subject, but we

learn more from the marginal stage directions in some of the manuscripts of French mysteries of the same date. Thus, in the fall of Lucifer, it is directed in the margin of one of these that 'Lucifer and his angels are now to be let down by means of a wheel secretly contrived to work upon a screw pivot.' In the performance of the Creation, when God separates light from darkness, the stage direction is: 'Now a painted cloth is to be exhibited, one half black, and the other half white!' When God separates the waters: 'Now must be shown, as it were, a sea, which has previously been covered, and fishes in it.' And when God creates the fowls, the stage direction is; Now must some one secretly let fly little birds into the air, and place on the stage swans, geese, ducks, cocks, hens, with the most uncommon animals that can be obtained.' In one of the Coventry books we have the entry: Item, pd for starche to make the storme in the pagente, vjd There are some amusing entries relating to stage machinery in the same books, as, for example:

Company relating to their pageant, we see at once that it could not be the same play they acted. In fact, the substance of their play is broken into one or two smaller ones. These, however, are near enough in subject to allow of a brief analysis in illustration of the characters as described in the books, and of the general plan of these singular compositions. The scene introduces the Saviour leading his favorite disciples to the Mount of Olives, and at first both the dialogue and acting are a mere paraphrase of the Gospel narrative. At length he awakens his disciples, and tells them that his time was come, and that Judas was at hand to betray him. 'Here,' says the stage direction, 'Jesus with his disciples goeth into the place, and there shall come in about ten persons well beseen in white harness and brigandines, and some disguised in other garments, with swords, glaives, and other strange weapons, as cressets with fire, and lanterns and torches light; and Judas foremost of all, conveying them to Jesus by countenance.' The Saviour asks them what they seek, and they reply: 'Jesus of Nazareth.' On his declaring that he is the man, they all fall to the ground, and only rise again at his bidding. After some further contention, Judas kisses Christ, and then his companions rush upon him. It is at this moment that Peter, moved by his zeal, strikes Malchus with his sword,

We have somewhere read that on one occasion the necessity of making 'hell mouth' new arose from an accident in the management of this fire, which involved the infernal regions in a general conflagration. We have in these same books the commemoration of an equally serious and more deliberate case of incendiarism: 'Item, payd for settyng the world of fyer, vd.

It is curious that, when we compare that part of the collection preserved and printed as the Coventry Mysteries with the entries in the books of the Smiths'

mediately heals by a miracle, and expostulates with Peter for using violence in his cause. The Jews now seize upon Christ, and lead him away, with a good deal of vulgar abuse and ribaldry, which was calculated for the taste of the mob. Another scene now opens, in which Herod appears sitting upon his throne, surrounded by his doctors, or courtiers, who greet him with the most abject flattery. When they have concluded, he addresses the audience in a style of exaggerated pomposity, which is best described by Shakspeare's phrase of out-Heroding Herod. Herod may be

truly said to swear like a Turk, for he has nothing in his mouth but Mahom, or Mahomet. He boasts of being the greatest and most powerful personage in the world, talks of every body as his slaves, and declares that if any one dares to speak without his orders he would involve them in immediate and immense destruction. This impotent threatening appears to have been chiefly addressed to the audience, and must, no doubt, have created great amusement. We know from Chaucer that it was a great object of ambition to be thought worthy and capable of performing the part of Herod in the Mysteries. Herod gives orders to his officers to go and effect the capture of Jesus. Another scene introduces to us the two priests, Cayphas and Annas, seated in state, and a messenger arrives with tidings of the capture of the Saviour, and gives an account of the whole transaction. Soon afterwards Christ is led in by the Jews, and witnesses are heard against him, and he is reviled and beaten. One of the maid-servants accuses Peter of being one of the disciples, which he denies, and the cock crows, (Mr. Fawston's part.) This is repeated, and then Peter weeps, and goes out, and makes his lament. Cayphas and Annas, meanwhile, despatch a messenger to Pilate, to require his presence at the 'MootHall,' on account of 'a great matter' that required speed. Judas, in the mean time, is seized with repentance, and, returning to Cayphas and Annas, offers back the money for which he had sold his Redeemer. They refuse it with bitter jeers, and, to use the words of the stage directions, 'then Judas casteth down the money, and goeth and hangeth himself.' We have seen in the books of the Smiths' Company that one of the subordinate actors assisted the traitor in this last act of self-retributive justice. Next day, in consequence of the summons, Pilate takes his seat in the 'MootHall,' and Jesus is brought before him for trial, Cayphas and Annas acting as accusers. After hearing all the wit

nesses, Pilate is of opinion that no crime is proved, and is desirous of setting Jesus at liberty; but this is opposed by the Jews, and after much contention on the subject, a quibble is raised about jurisdiction, and the prisoner is passed over to King Herod. Herod storms and rages considerably, and causes his victim to be scourged and tormented, and then he sends him back to Pilate with full authority to condemn him to death. Pilate was, therefore, considered as a subordinate personage to King Herod. Meanwhile a new scene has begun. 'Here entereth Satan into the place, in the most horrible wise.' Satan outdoes Herod in his profane swearing and boasting, and exults over what he foresees will be the fate of Christ, knowing that he would descend to hell, and believing that he would remain there under his subjection. In his joy, he calls to hell to prepare for his reception:

'HELLE! helle! make redy, for here xal

DYS Sone,

And he xal ben here be the oure of none,
And with the here he xal wone,

And han ful shrewyd rest.'

The subordinate fiends, however, appear to have had more shrewdness than their master, and one of them suggests that it would be better to keep such a guest away. He says, addressing himself to Satan:

'OUT upon the! we conjure the,

That nevyr in helle we may hym se;
For and he onys in helle be,

He xal oure power brest!' An entirely new light now breaks upon Satan's mind, and, in his alarm at the destruction which threatens his own power, he determines to prevent the Saviour from being put to death. He resolves, therefore, to work upon the fears of Pilate's wife:

'To PYLATYS wyff I wele now go,

And sche is aslepe a bed ful fast,
And byd here withowtyn wordys mo,
To PYLAT that sche send in hast.'

'Here,' says the stage direction, 'shall the devil go to Pilate's wife, the curtain drawn as she lieth in bed; and he shall make no din; but she shall, soon after that he is come in, make a 'rewly' noise, coming and running off the Scaffold, and her shirt and her kirtle in her hand, and she shall come before Pilate E like a mad woman, saying thus:

'PYLAT, I charge the that thou take hede!
Deme not JHESU, but be his frende!
Gyf thou jewge hym to be dede,

Thou art dampnyd withowtyn ende!' And she goes on to tell her vision; in consequence of which Pilate determines to have nothing to do with the persecution of Jesus, but, after a vain attempt to persuade the Jews to set him at liberty, he returns him back upon their hands. This seems to have completed the Mystery performed by the Smiths' Company. When it was concluded, the stage, or pageant, on which it was performed, moved forward upon its wheels, and proceeded, no doubt, to recommence in another part of the town, while the next stage in order took its place, and another set of performers acted the Mystery which came next in succession.

The play we have thus briefly described was one of those in which the Scriptural story was least embellished with extraneous incidents. The authors of these compositions, however, were not without reason charged by the moralists with seeking mainly to cater to the taste of the vulgar populace, to do which they found it necessary to introduce comic scenes and burlesque, or at least droll characters. This was effected most frequently by giving the humorous parts to some of the lower personages who belonged to the plot itself; but in some cases personages are introduced purposely as humorous characters, who had otherwise no claim to a place in the story. Thus, in the play of Cain and Abel, in the Towneley collection, an ill-conditioned servant is given to Cain, and the disputes between him and

his master are full of coarse humor. In the play of Noah's Flood, the wife of Noah, instead of obeying the call of her husband to enter the ark, proceeds at the last moment to the tavern to join her gossips, to the great annoyance of the rest of the family, who are eager to get afloat; they remain drinking, gossiping, and singing, until the danger becomes imminent; and, after much mutual abuse, Noah beats his wife soundly, or, according to another version, Noah himself is the vanquished. The play of the Shepherds, in every collection, gives room for the introduction of mirthful pictures of rustic life. In the play of the Slaughter of the Innocents, a laughable scene was always furnished in a skirmish between the slaughterers and the mothers of the victims, who are made to indulge to a considerable degree in what would now be called 'Billingsgate' language. Among the comic characters in these plays, we must not forget the executioners, or, as they are termed here, the tormentors, who are especially distinguished for their drollery; and the various acts of the passion, the scornful treatment, the scourging, and the crucifixion of the Saviour, must have kept the audience in a roar of laughter. Lastly, one of the merriest exhibitions in the whole course was Doomsday, or the Day of Judgment, in which all those individuals who are supposed to have given offence or scandal on earth are exposed to popular satire, and in very popular language. The miller, who stole his share of the corn which was brought to his mill, and the ale-wife, who sold short measure, were among the greatest persecutors of the lower orders during the middle ages, and are here held up to the bitterest scorn; and the people of fashion, who it was pretended spent on fine clothes the money which ought to have gone to the poor, were not spared. It may be remarked, that the gross language which in these plays is put in the mouths of women as well as of men, gives us but

a low opinion of the delicacy of manners among our forefathers of the fifteenth century.

The same humorous scenes, or episodes, are found in the French Mysteries, where they exhibit usually more originality of conception. The characters, too, are here more frequently extraneous, or at least unnecessary, to the plot. In one of the earliest of these, the play of St. Nicholas, by Jean Bodel, the merriment was produced by a vulgar scene between a party of gamblers in a tavern. In the Miracle-plays, which were more abundant in French than in English, thieves, or persons of the lower classes of society in towns, or peasants in the country, or beggars and other vagrants, are introduced for the purpose of humorous scenes of this description. In one of these, which has for its subject the life and miracles of St. Fiacre, the humorous scene is introduced in the form of an interlude, and is called a farcecy est interposé une farsse. This farce consists of five personages, a brigand or robber, a peasant, a sergeant, and the wives of the two latter. The brigand appears first on the stage, and meeting with the peasant, inquires of him the way to St. Omer. The peasant retorts in the style of clownishness which it was then fashionable to ascribe to every one who was born a 'vilan,' or serf, or who was descended of such servile blood. The robber, offended, but putting the most charitable construction on the first offence, repeats his question, and that with sufficient politeness, but he meets with a second rebuff, more offensive even than the first. Finding him thus uncourteous, he avenges himself by robbing the peasant of a capon; but in this conjuncture the sergeant comes up, interposes, and attempts to recapture the capon, and, in the struggle, the brigand strikes him a blow which fractures his, arm. The brigand escapes, and his two antagonists quit the scene for a moment, while their wives come forward to occupy it. The peasant's wife informs the ser

geant's wife of the injury which her husband has sustained, and the latter lady rejoices at an accident which she thinks has deprived him of the power of beating her. In all these scenes the women are made the object of broadest satire, and the picture of married life is not flattering to the domestic character of our forefathers. The two wives adiourn to a tavern, where they call for wine, and make merry, their conversation turning chiefly on the defects of their husbands, who, however, eventually return upon the stage, and give them practical evidence that they are neither of them disabled.

This is one of the earliest instances of the application to these scenes of the word Farce, derived from an old French verb farcer, to make merry, and therefore signifying a drollery or merriment. In the Towneley Mysteries there is a second play of the Shepherds, the plot of which is a perfect farce, and has as little to do with the subject of the Mys tery itself as the French farce just described with the story of St. Fiacre. A party of shepherds meet on the moors, where their sheep-walks lie, and enter into conversation on the evil times in which they live, their own miserable condition, and the inclemency of the weather. In the midst of it enters an individual of very equivocal character, who goes by the popular name of Mak, and who joins in the familiar discourse, and remains with them till they all compose themselves to sleep, it being night. Mak then rises, picks out the fattest sheep in the flock, and carries it home to his wife. They consult on the best means of concealing their booty, and, at the wife's suggestion, they put it in the cradle, and she lays herself beside it, pretending to be just delivered of a child. At early dawn the shepherds awake, visit their flocks, and soon discover that a robbery has been committed. Their suspicion at once falls upon Mak, and they trace him to his house, where the various subterfuges of the offender and his worthy consort,