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
Chapter
I .
II.
III.
IV.
V.
.
Page
DEATH IN THE MIDDLE AGES
.
DANCE OF DEATH
.
1
.20
MORAL PLAYS
41
THE PARDONER'S TALE
CONCLUSION
.
.
'
BIBLIOGRAPHY
59
78
.81
i i i
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Figure
1.
.
,
Dancing Death
Page
v
IV
If
/
N\i#
>
W Mlkl:'%
I p V A/ / . ,) h -A
•f \7
1/
-C^v,
Fig.
1 - - D a n e i rig D e a t h
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 A g e s , 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, w o m a n , and child the idea that the world-tocome 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
world after death. ^
T h e y w e r e n o t a l l o w e d f o r o n e m o m e n t to
f o r g e t t h e j o y s o f H e a v e n or t h e t o r t u r e s o f Hell , t h e o n l y
alternatives.
They were taught that their earthly existence
w a s m e r e " t r i a l and p r e p a r a t i o n f o r t h e 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 a n y m o m e n t in the f u r y of t h e J u d g m e n t
Day."
A g l a n c e at a l m o s t a n y m e d i e v a l s c u l p t u r e o r m u r a l w i l l
r e v e a l t h e a t t i t u d e o f t h e a g e , a p e r i o d w h e n a r t s e r v e d as a
r e m i n d e r of man's v u l n e r a b i l i t y .
one p u r p o s e :
All s e r m o n s w e r e d e s i g n e d f o r
to r e m i n d m a n k i n d o f h i s i n e v i t a b l e e n d .
As a
r e s u l t o f 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 .
T h e c h a r a c t e r i s t i c l a c k o f 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 cupation with 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' t h e 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 , f o r m o s t o f its s o u r c e m a t e r i a l .
The church was
o f t e n t h e e n e m y o f 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 .
O n e e x a m p l e o f t h i s is
R o g e r B a c o n o f 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 o n e
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 t h e r e i g n o f H e n r y I I I , and s p e n t t h e l a s t 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 o f
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 M e d i 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 t h e 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. 1 6 .
^ 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 a g g r e s s i o n . ^
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.
11
1 b i d . , p. 75.
1Qlbid.
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.
were corresponding levels:
In these two divisions there
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 e m e r g i n g , class of traders; and the parish
priests and chaplains were similar in posi ti on to the
laboring s e r f s . ^ 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 m a s s e s , 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^Woods, p. 76.
1 ^Sal zman , p . 33 .
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
15
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
w h i c h , as we shall see later, came to play a significant
role in the development of medieval d r a m a . 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 w a r f a r e , with its seemingly romantic
array of swords, shields, and arrows, was devastating to that
majority of soldiers who could not afford heavy armour.
15
Ibid.
16
I b i 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.^ ^
T h e n , as well as now, organized arid casual forms of cruelty
were very much a part of w a r , 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, w h i c h ,
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 9 S a l z m a n , p. 198.
^ E v a n s , p. 208.
20
W o o d s , p. 75.
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 s e n s e . 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 g r a v e . " 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 w a y s , 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 p e r i s h e d , 2 ^
seemed just another, if more deadly plague, in a long chain of
epi demi cs.26
22
2
2
C o u l t o n , p. 18.
^ E v a n s , p. 206.
23
2
1 b i d. , p. 20.
^Vioods, p. 76.
^ K e n n e t h 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 y e a r s , when
death was so constant and real, fantasies concerning death
m u l t i p l i e d , 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 undernourishment.
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 w e a l t h y , 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 d o c t o r s w e r e called in and paid to cure him.
A poor man
with a mild d i s e a s e who could not afford p r o f e s s i o n a l medical
t r e a t m e n t was p r o b a b l y m o r e likely to r e c o v e r .
In a d d i t i o n to
1 ess harmful p r e l i m i n a r y r e m e d i e s , d o c t o r s f r e q u e n t l y p e r f o r m e d
s u r g e r y , w h i c h was certain to involve i n t o l e r a b l e pain and was
31
u n l i k e l y to be s u c c e s s f u l .
During these times p a i n , p e r i l ,
and death w e r e e v e r - p r e s e n t compani ons of all levels of s o c i e t y
32
life was hard and s h o r t .
T h e Black Death of 1348 and 1349 had two o p p o s i t e e f f e c t s
on the m i n d s of m e n :
in hopeless a b a n d o n , some turned to
w o r l d l y w i c k e d n e s s ; others turned in d e s p e r a t i o n and fear to
a m o r e s e r i o u s c o n c e r n with r e l i g i o n . 3 , 3
A f t e r the universal
t e r r o r of the p l a g u e , one of m a n y r e l i g i o u s m o v e m e n t s began in
F l a n d e r s , and later was b r o u g h t to E n g l a n d .
This was the
m o v e m e n t of the F l a g e l l a n t s , who b e l i e v e d that God had sent
his j u d g m e n t and p u n i s h m e n t upon man in the form of the
p l a g u e and that only d e s p e r a t e m e a s u r e s , in this case selfOA
t o r t u r e , could save men from the r a v a g e s of the j u d g m e n t .
The c o n s t a n t p r e s e n c e and t h r e a t of death caused a
turning to the church for e x p l a n a t i o n and r a t i o n a l i z a t i o n .
C l e r g y m e n m e t this c h a l l e n g e with vivid biblical d e s c r i p t i o n s
Ibid. , p. 209. '
^ H e a r n s h a w , p. 39.
33
a
S a 1zm a n , p. 110.
S i d n e y P a i n t e r , A History of the M i d d l e A g e s : 284T500 (New Y o r k , 1 9 5 3 ) , p." 419. (Sin'ce " m 0sif E n g T i s h m e n
c o n s i d e r e d them r e l i g i o u s m a d m e n , the F l a g e l l a n t s ' n u m b e r s
never grew very large in E n g l a n d , a c c o r d i n g to V i c k e r s , p. 1 8 6 . )
10
of the n e x t w o r l d , b o t h P a r a d i s e and H e l l .
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 a b o u t 1 3 4 0 , we read t h i s
d e s c r i p t i o n of P a r a d i s e :
Todel -pine g o s t 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 - t o
ye 1 o n d e of fe 1 i b b y n d e / iper non ne s t e r f [fj / ne
y e a l dep. fet is ine p a r a d y s . f e r m e l y e r n e ? w e l to
1i bbe / and w y t / an c o r t e y s y e . n o r f e r ne m a y g u o 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 g o d . and
of a n g l e s , and of hal-^en. f e r o p w e x e p a l l e 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 . l o n e ,
w y t . i o y e w y f o u t e e n d e . -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 h o n g e r .
ne -porst. ne h e t e . ne c h e l e . ne k u e a d . ne zor-je. ne
d r e d e of v y e n d e s . ac al rieway f e s t e s and k i n g e s bredal es.
z o n g e s . and b l i s s e w y p o u t e e n d e . [ S e p a r a t e thy soul
f r o m thy b o d y 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 i n t o the land of the l i v i n g w h e r e n o n e
d i e or g r o w o l d . T h a t is in p a r a d i s e ; w h e r e one l e a r n s
to live w e l l in w i s d o m and c o u r t e s y . For t h e r e no
v i l l a i n y m a y e n t e r ; t h e r e is b l i s s f u l f e l l o w s h i p of God
and a n g e l s and s a i n t s . T h e r e s p r i n g s up all g o o d n e s s ,
b e a u t y , r i c h e s , w o r s h i p , b l i s s , v i r t u e , 1ove , w i s d o m ,
and j o y w i t h o u t e n d . T h e r e 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 s c o r d , 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 d r e a d of e n e m i e s ; but a l w a y s f e a s t s
^5
and the b r i d a l s of k i n g s , s o n g s and b l i s s w i t h o u t e n d . ]
T h e i n d u c e m e n t s used w e r e not a l w a y s of s u c h 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 w e r e a l s o w a r n e d a g a i n s t w h a t
t h e y w o u l d find if t h e i r l i v e s had not b e e n good e n o u g h to
m e r i t an e t e r n i t y of
paradise.
In an e a r l y 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 :
35
Dan M i c h e l , A.jenbi te of In w y t , or R e m o r s e of C o n s c i e n c e
( L o n d o n , 1 8 9 5 ) , pp. 7T~-T5.~ T h i s "and f ol 1 o w i n g t r a n s l a t i o n s
i n t o m o d e r n E n g l i s h are my o w n .
n
Helle is wyd / wy-p-oute metirige. dyep / wyf-oute botino.
Vol of brene on-"j?olynde. Vol of stenche / wy-oute
c o m p a r i s o u n . -per is zor-^e. ^?er is ^ y e s t e r n e s s e . -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 m o r e ^ a n n e alle -pe pynen yet moje by y - d o i ne yise
w o r d ! 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
w i t h o u t m e a s u r e , deep without bottom, full of intolerable
f i r e , full of stench without comparison. There is no
o r d e r 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 m a n n e r of
t o r m e n t s . The least of them all is more than all
the torments that may be done in this world. There
is w e e p i n g 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 n u m b e r of literary works.
This was not the only theme,
however; the 1i terature of the later Middle Ages was varied
in n a t u r e , with various subjects and forms belonging exclusively to p a r t i c u l a r levels of society.
The knights and their ladies had their forms of literature, the courtly lyric and the metri cal romance, such as
the A r t h u r i a n 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, h y m n s , and debates,
36 lb i d .
, pp.
264-265
12
as well as prose homilies.
The common folk had their popular
ballads and 1ai s, their narrative folk s o n g s , and the f a b l i a u . ^
A n o t h e r i m p o r t a n t part of the literature of the common people
was medieval d r a m a , which had emerged from its beginnings in
the church.
At its b e g i n n i n g , English medieval drama was entirely
sacred and d i d a c t i c .
There was no dramatic structure or
p l o t , only the e n a c t m e n t of some familiar episodes of
biblical lore.
These brief enactments were used as a part
of the sermon on certain special o c c a s i o n s , such as Corpus
Christi D a y , C h r i s t m a s , 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 c h a n t s . 3 9
Medieval drama evolved slowly into what have been later
called m i r a c l e and mystery plays.
Miracle p l a y s , dealing
with the lives of s a i n t s , naturally retained their religious
n a t u r e ; ^ h o w e v e r , the mystery plays underwent great changes.
As the e n a c t m e n t s by the priests of the mystery plays
changed from a dignified and sacred mood to one of more
3 ? W o o d s , pp. 89 and 94.
3^Ibid.
t
p. 89.
39
1 b i d . , p. 90.
4°Hardi n Crai g , English Religious Drama of the Mi ddle Ages
( O x f o r d , 1 9 5 5 ) , p. 346."
13
c o n t e m p o r a r y s p i r i t , t h e l a i t y s l o w l y b e g a n to t a k e t h e p l a c e
o f t h e c l e r g y m e n , and t h e L a t i n c h a n t s w e r e c h a n g e d to t h e
vernacular.^
satirical.
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
The stage was m o v e d from inside the church
to t h e 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 .
The trades guilds,
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 , t h e t w o 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 o f E n g l i s h d r a m a d u r i n g t h e
t h r i 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 t h e
i n c r e a s i n g i m p o r t a n c e o f g u i l d s as t h e t o w n s g r e w l a r g e r and
t h e e s t a b l i s h m e n t by t h e 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 s u c h
A9
as t h a t o f 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 s o o n b e c a m e a p a r t of
the festival.
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 t h e m y s t e r y
p l a y s h a d 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 t h e
g u i l d s of a given town.
At t h i s 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 , with f o r t y - e i g h t p l a y s ;
t h e 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 t h e
Chester, with twenty-five 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 t h e Old and N e w T e s t a m e n t s .
They
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
41
W o o d s , p. 9 0 .
43
1 b i d.
42
I b i _ d . , p. 9 1 .
14
t a k e n the m o d e r n n a m e f o r the e n a c t m e n t of c e r t a i n b i b l i c a l
44
scenes.
M y s t e r y p l a y s f r o m Difcle s t o r i e s and m i r a c l e p l a y s f r o m
s a i n t s ' l e g e n d s b e c a m e the two m o s t w i d e s p r e a d and p o p u l a r
f o r m s of m e d i e v a l e n t e r t a i n m e n t , 4 ^ but t h e r e was a n o t h e r
kind of medi eval d r a m a w h i c h w a s a l l e g o r i c a l in n a t u r e and
w a s b a s e d 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
o u t of the h o m i l i e s .
T h i s w a s the m o r a l i ty pi a y , w h i c h
has b e e n d e f i n e d as ". . . the d r a m a t i c p h a s e 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 m a n ' 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
k e e p t h e i r f e e t in the s t r a i g h t and narrow way. . . ." 4
M o r a l i t y p l a y s d a t e o n l y f r o m 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 b e y o n d the f i f t e e n t h c e n t u r y .
T h e f o r m u l a for t h e s e a l l e g o r i e s w a s f a i r l y c o n s t a n t , w i t h
o n l y a few v a r i a t i o n s in t h e i r l a t e r y e a r s .
They dramatized
m a n ' s p r o g r e s s f r o m the c r a d l e to the g r a v e and b e y o n d .
The
b a s i c f o r m u l a shows how man is born g r a c e l e s s and in s i n ; how
his m o r t a l c a r e e r is a c o n s t a n t s t r u g g l e a g a i n s t his h u m a n
failings.
T h e 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 a l w a y s 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 .
4/1
lb id. , p. 9 2 .
Death always
4
^ E . K. Chambers» T h e Medi eval Stage ( O x f o r d , 1 9 0 3 ) , p. 157
4
6Cra"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
w o r k , 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 personification 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 m e l o d y .
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 e v e r y o n e , of all classes
This can be seen in the first two stanzas of the poem:
51 Chambers, p. 153
17
Man mei longe him lives 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 ofte him 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 v a 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 f i b e n c h ,
•pu s i n n e a q u e n c h .
N e m a i s t r o n g n e s t a r c h ne k e n e
a-^lye deth-i s wif er-clench ;
-»,ung a n d o l d a n d b r i t h a n - s i e n e ,
al h e 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 mai no m a n f a r t o - ^ e n e s ,
w e i - l a - w e i ! n e iwepirig n e 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!
[Man may expect a long life,
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 shall fade y o u r y o u t h .
W e l 1 a w a y ! T h e r e is n o K i n g n o r Q u e e n
T h a t shall not 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 from y o u r b e n c h
Quench your sin.
Neither powerful nor strong nor keen
Escapes death's hostile grasp;
Y o u n g and old 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 his 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! N o 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 the s t e n c h of lust 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 L y r i 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 , 1932), pp. 15-16.
F u r t h e r r e f e r e n c e to this
p o e m will be f r o m this v o l u m e . T h e line n u m b e r s will 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 o f t h e q u o t a t i o n .
18
The idea of D e a t h ' s i m m i n e n c e is seen in the thi rd s t a n z a , as
it s a y s :
"-par deth 1 uteth in hi s swo /
28 and 29).
to him f o r - d o " (1 i nes
The third c h a r a c t e r i s t i c m e d i e v a l theme w h i c h
a p p e a r s in this poem is the f a s c i n a t i o n with the p u t r e f a c t i o n
of the body after d e a t h :
"of fel the -pu ert i s o w e , /
weirmes
m e t e -pu selt ben" (lines 33 and 34].
The second p o e m , "The Ten stages of M a n ' s L i f e , " c o n t a i n s
the Dance of Death theme and two other c h a r a c t e r i s t i c m o t i f s .
The Dance of D e a t h is seen in stanzas six t h r o u g h nine.
As in the o t h e r p o e m , the central idea is that Death takes
e-yeryone, w h a t e v e r hfs w o r l d l y goods or d e g r e e m a y be:
A1 mi 1if ic sorwe & c a r e ,
for det comit sone , -j?at noman wil s p a r e .
Lore fou h a s t , bope tonge & m i n d e :
as tou hast 1 i u i d , pou ssalt sone f i n d e .
A1 f i s wo[r]l d -pou ssal f o r s a k e ,
for det is c o m u n , -p at wil -pe take.
IA11 my life I grieve and c a r e .
For d e a t h comes s o o n , that no man will s p a r e .
Counsel you h a v e , b o t h of tongue and m i n d :
As you have l i v e d , you shall soon find.
All t h i s w o r l d shall f o r s a k e y o u ,
For d e a t h is coming that will take y o u . ] 5 ^
In s p e a k i n g of the t e m p o r a r y comfort afforded by r i c h e s , this
poem says in s t a n z a f o u r , "Nou hastou fondin -pat tou hast
sout: /
be wel w a r ; it 1astit nout" (1ines 7 and 8).
F r e d e r i c k Furnival , e d i t o r , Political , Rel i gi ous , an^d
Loye Poems ( L o n d o n , 1 9 0 3 ) , p. 267.
f u r t h e r r e f e r e n c e "to this
poem will be from this -volume. The line n u m b e r s will a p p e a r
In p a r e n t h e s e s at the end of the q u o t a t i o n .
19
Finally,
this
poem a l s o u s e s 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 .
nou 1 i t e l
lete,
19 and 2 0 ) .
medieval
/
In s t a n z a t e n t h i s
for-pou art
"Of -j?i 1 i f
t o r n i d t o worrni s m e t e "
(lines
T h e s e poems a r e e x a m p l e s of t h e c h a r a c t e r i s t i c
preoccupation with death.
considered,
i s seen :
In e a c h one Death i s
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 ,
rather
t h a n an a b s t r a c t i o n .
The Dance of Death moti f i 1 1 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 i m e 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 n o t e d in t h e f i n e .
arts
and in p o e t r y .
medieval
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
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:
to all men.
it is the one thing which happens
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.
motif is the Dance of Death, or danse macabre.
This
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 m o t i f , 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
dancing, much greater than in former times.^
craze
for
The dances,
of various lewd natures, were practiced in the streets and in
"'Florence Warren, editor, The Dance erf Death (London
1931), p. ix.
2
1bi d . , p. xv.
20
21
the churchyards.
The o r i g i n of t h e Dance of Death m o t i f
a m a t t e r of s p e c u l a t i o n * b u t one t h e o r y i s t h a t
of d i r e c t i o n s
it
is
grew o u t
by t h e c l e r g y t o t h e p e o p l e t o r e p l a c e t h e i r
o b s c e n e d a n c i n g w i t h more d e c o r o u s
f o r m s , of a more moral
nature.^
The Dance of Death was s o m e t i m e s 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 , b o t h
men and women s 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
that
is evidence
a Dance of Death was p e r f o r m e d i n which o n l y 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 n o t as a r e p r e s e n t a t i o n
b u t of t h e d y i n g man h i m s e l f
of Death in t h e a b s t r a c t ,
in a f u t u r e s t a t e ,
usually that
of a d e c o m p o s i n g c o r p s e r a t h e r t h a n 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 r o m t h e 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
religious
rites.
When t h e s k e l e t o n r e p l a c e d t h e d e c a y i ng
c o r p s e , t h e c o n c e p t changed from t h e i n d i v i d u a l
man t o Death
personified.
D u r i n g 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
that social
i s known
f o r m s 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
pervading
^ I b i d . , p. x i i i .
^ J o a n Evans , e d i t o r , The F l o w e r i n g o_f t h e M 1_dd1 e Ages
(New Y o r k , 1 9 6 6 ) , p. 2 4 1 . " ~
"*
"
~
^ W a r r e n , p. x .
^Dance of Death
( L o n d o n , 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 c o u n t r i e s . 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.
cannot know for certain.
One
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
7
W a r r e n , p. x,
9
E v a n s , p. 241.
8
I b i d . , p. xiy.
"^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
1O
own burial chapel. u
In France, however, the best surv iving representations
of the Dance of Death are the wall paintings at La ChaiseD 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,
14
and in m a n u s c r i p t s , 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 . ^
published in 1485.
The earliest;, by M a r c h a n d , was
The more widely known series, that by
Hans H o l b e i n , 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 m a n u s c r i p t s , as in the visual depictions and the
early dances, all levels of medieval
society are represented,
^lbid .
1 2 E v a n s , p. 241 .
13
Ibid.
15H
arren 5 p. :xvi i i.
^Ibiri. , p. 242.
1 6
Ibid.
•'
24
each character being lead unv/illingly by Death,
The first
written Dance of Death was probably composed in Latin by an
e c c l e s i a s t i c ; 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,
1H
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' T f o i s 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 m o t i f , 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
on
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 T o t t e l 1 s press , dated 1 554.^ 1
8
^ 7 Ibid. , p. x.
Ibi d. , p. x i i
^ 9 E v a n s , p. 241.
Ibid . , p. xxi v,
^°Warren
xxi i
The
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
25.22
The Ellesmere manuscript from Group A, John Lydgate's
translation from the French, will be used for this s t u d y . 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,
22
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
Minstrel, Tregetour, Parson, Laborer, Friar Minor, Child,
C l e r k , H e r m i t , dead K i n g * 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 f r o m all c l a s s e s of s o c i e t y are s u m m o n e d
by D e a t h .
Death uses four distinct a p p r o a c h e s :
he is c o u r t e o u s
to a f e w ; he is s a r c a s t i c and -mocking to o t h e r s ; he is v e n g e f u l
t o w a r d s o m e of the c h a r a c t e r s ; and w i t h s o m e he d e f i a n t l y s t a t e s
f a c t s w h i c h s p e a k for t h e m s e l v e s .
T h e r e are a l s o f o u r d i s t i n c t w a y s in w h i c h D e a t h is
recei ved by the t h i r t y - s i x c h a r a c t e r s .
S o m e are r e a d y for
h i m ; o t h e r s r e g r e t b i t t e r l y that they m u s t l e a v e b e h i n d t h e i r
w o r l d l y l i v e s , l a m e n t i n g that n o t h i n g can g a i n t h e m a repri e v e ;
s o m e l a m e n t that t h e i r v a r i o u s p r o f e s s i o n a l s k i l l s can do
t h e m no good w h e n D e a t h c o m e s and d e s p i s e b e i n g p o w e r l e s s ; and
t h e r e are a few w h o s h o w g r e a t f r i g h t or d i s m a y .
Two indivi-
d u a l s d e f y c l a s s i f i c a t i o n in t h e i r u n i q u e r e p l i e s to D e a t h .
T h e y are the S e r g e a n t and the M i n s t r e l , w h o will be s t u d i e d
a l o n g w i t h the o t h e r s 1 a t e r in the c h a p t e r .
T h e f i r s t g r o u p is m a d e up of n i n e c h a r a c t e r s w h o m D e a t h
a p p r o a c h e s w i t h m o r e c o u r t e s y t h a n the o t h e r s .
be d i v i d e d f u r t h e r i n t o t h r e e p a r t s :
T h i s g r o u p can
those w h o s e s t a t i o n and
c h a r a c t e r D e a t h r e s p e c t s ; t h o s e for whom he s h o w s p i t y ; and
t h o s e 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
summons.
The c h a r a c t e r s w h o are arranged in this g r o u p a r e , in
the o r d e r t h e y a p p e a r in the p o e m , 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 M o n k , the M i n s t r e l , the L a b o u r e r ,
the F r i a r M i n o r , and the C h i l d .
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.
want to comfort the man when he says:
Death seems to
"Lenger to lyve/ sette
not <5QWfe memorie / Thowg^ I be lothsome/ as yn apparence /
Above al m e n / 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.
the Child:
He offers a comforting thought to
"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 M i n s t r e l ,
"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 l a b o u r e r , 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 A b b e s s , the Burgess , and the Hermite.
suggestion is a mocking request.
In most cases, the
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 s h e e t , 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 m a d e up of those
Individuals toward whom Death is sarcastic and m o c k i n g .
In
this group are, in the order of their appearance in the poem,
29
the C a r d i n a l , 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/ ^ o w r e
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 m a n 1 s knowing all the new earthly dances :
Come fort ho Si re Squyer/ right fressh of ^ o w r e arai
?
That can of daunces/ al the riewe gyse.
T h o w j -5>e bare amies/ fressh horsed *,isterdai. . ."
J
(XXVIII , 217-219).
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 w i m p l e , her great r i c h e s , 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
B a i l i f f , the A s t r o n o m e r , 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 m u c h the same manner as the A s t r o n o m e r , 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 covetousness 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.
is truth:
He tells him that the only council now
"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, w h o , he says, thought himself out of the reach of
Death.
Death w a r n s , "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 S e r g e a n t , 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.
ness:
He points out his close-
"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 T r e g e t o u r , 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 ^ o w 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.
same with all other professional divisions.
It is the
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).
to die:
The Usurer is grieved
"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.
clear:
The infancy of the Child is poignantly
"A a a/ a words I can not speke / I am so ^ o n g e / 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 o f t h o s e i n d i v i d u a l s w h o a r e
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
M a n o f Lav/, t h e 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 t h e
Hermit.
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 h i s
k n o w l e d g e o f its i n e v i t a b i l i t y :
B u t f o r al t h a t / d e t h I mai n o t f 1 e e
On h i s d a u n c e / w i t h o t h e r f o r to t r a c e
F o r 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 s e e
Is l i t e ! w o r t h e / t h a t d o t h s o o s o n e p a c e ( I X , 6 9 - 7 2 ) .
T h e B i s h o p is n o t h a p p y , b u t he t o o s e e s t h e i n e v i t a b i l i t y
(stanza XXVII).
The A b b o t does not fear 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 t o o
l a t e to c h a n g e h i s p r o f e s s i o n ( s t a n z a X X X I ) .
T h e M a n 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 :
" F o r al m y w i t t e / and m y g r e t e p r u d e n c e /
T o 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 y n
e r t h e / mai a m a n p r e s e r u e . . ." ( L X , 4 7 6 - 4 7 8 ) .
T h e C h a r t e r e a u x is r e a d y to d i e and s a y s t h a t he h a s
l o n g b e e n d e a d to t h e w o r l d by h i s o w n 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 o n e o f r e s i g n a t i o n to t h e 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 w i l l be m a n y w h o w i l l r e j o i c e at his d e a t h
(stanza L X11).
T h e L a b o u r e r is n o t so p a s s i v e , h a v i n g o f t e n
wished for death.
H i s 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 ) .
The last m e m b e r of this
g r o u p , t h e 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 , b u t d o e s r e g r e t t h a t e v e n l i f e in t h e d e s e r t c o u l d
not save him from Death (stanza 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 A r c h b i s h o p , 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
d i s t r e s s , 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] ^ o w r e 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.
M
He then gives a unique warning:
A1 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 y o u t h , 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 M e r c h a n t , the
Constable s the Clerk, the Gentlewoman, the Physician, the
A s t r o n o m e r , 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/ ^ i t t e 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 w o r l d l y , 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 d e f i a n t , 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
The
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 m o t i f , 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.
i
England,
It was very prominent in
and, according, to some theories, played a signi-
ficant role in the development of the morality pi a y . 2
Death had always figured prominently in Christian
d o c t r i n e , 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 W i l l i a m s , The Drama of Medieval England (Michigan
1961), p. 147.
2
1 bid,
3
1 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 w o r m s , 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.
5
H e l e n Thomas, "Some Analogues of Everyman ," Mi ssissi ppi
Quarterly, XVI (Spring, 1963), 97.
6
Ibid.
. 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 summons 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
11
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 m a n k i n d .
8
W i 1 1 i 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
but
of
it
contains,
Death.
secondari 1 y , 0 similar
In a l l
Death a p p e a r s
in
three
based in t h e i r
f r o m ' s e r v i c e s on p a r t i c u l a r
year.
the
in which t h i s
Miracle plays,
saints
"moral
play,"
and t h e
or m o r a l i t y ,
form i t s e l f
plays
regarded
miracle
is
dramatized
have e x i s t e d
since
and r e l i g i o u s
e p i t o m e of
liturgical
treat
the
lives
from the
plot:
same a r t i s t i c
1?
t h e same w a y .
allegory.
the
of
~
The
The t e r m
f i f t e e n t h century
The E n g l i s h
t h e m i c r o c o s m of man
the w o r l d . ^
The m y s t e r y
of
and
the macrocosm.
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 w e r e t h e m o s t p o p u l a r d r a m a t i c
form in t h e Middle Ages. ^
in e i t h e r
the
purpose.^ ^
p l a y s w e r e more r e p r e s e n t a t i v e
The m y s t e r i e s
H o w e v e r , D e a t h was n o t
allegorized
the mystery or the m i r a c l e p l a y s .
During the
fifteenth century,
away f r o m i n s t i t u t i o n a l i z e d
man.16
hand,
on S c r i p t u r e ,
in
and i n e x a c t l y
h a v e one u n i v e r s a l
as t h e
beginnings
Both o r i g i n a t e d
the church,
and c o n n o t e e t h i c a l
moral
summons
theme o c c u r s ,
occasions
on t h e o t h e r
and m a r t y r s .
impulse within
the
personification.
Mystery p l a y s ,
arose
plays
t h e m e of
Thi s s h i f t
f r a m e w o r k of
brought
religion
f o r m of d r a m a , s i n c e
religious
forms to s a l v a t i o n
the
laity
w h i c h m i g h t be a p p l i e d
^01 b i d . , p.
141 b j d . , p .
344.
15
1 47 .
individual
into
ethical
343.-
Charnbers , p.
shifted
the
a pertinent
individually.
320.
^ W i 11 i ams , p .
play
d e l i vered u n i v e r s a l
p.
^Craig,
of
much c l o s e r
and made t h e m o r a l
it
emphasis
149.
messages
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
17
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.
19
20
I b i d . , p. 348.
B a u g h , p. 285,
46
pi
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 s o u l ; 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 2 1reckoning,
Death • obeys.
22
W i l l i a m s , and
p. 144.
B a u g hEveryman,
, p. 283. who is first
23
OA
C r a i g , p. 349.
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.
guide.
Knowledge appears and offers to be Everyman 1 s
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 E v e r y m a n to seek Discretion, Strength,
and Beauty to accompany him.
Five Wits as counselors.
Knowledge tells him to call on
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
m a n u s c r i p t s of it, which are dated from 1509 to 1535 by
various scholars.
Two editions of the m a n u s c r i p t s , printed
by Richard Pynson, are only fragmentary, but two, printed by
9 7
John S k o t , are complete.
There is controversy over the
question of Everyman's origin.
It is not known whether it
is theoc original or a translation of the Dutch play Elckerlijc,
Joseph Qui ncy A d a m s , Chief Pre-Shakespearean Dramas
(New Y o r k , 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 therefrom. All bracketed material is Adams'.
^ W i l l i a m s , p. 160.
27
C a w l e y , p. 205
49
which it closely resembles.
A third possibility is that both
OO
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 p a r t i c u l a r . ^ 9
The fear of death is universal,
\
and Everyman's spiritual victory over death, or over the
fear of d e a t h , is obviously a common expression of Christian
doctrine.
Everyman does have an unusual moral theology for
3 m o r a l i t y play.
The author, obviously an imaginative church-
m a n s is not concerned with the conversion or saving of nonChristian souls.
His aim is apparently to speak to an audience
on
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 products 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.
30
1
L a w r e n c e V. Ryan, "Doctrine and Dramatic Structure in
Eyeryman' ," 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
t o 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 the theo-
logical b a s i s may have b e e n , the fact that 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 good and evil for the soul of m a n k i n d
ts I r r e l e v a n t t o 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
line of the e p i l o g u e , w h i c h d e l i v e r s the c o n c i s e m o r a l .
This
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 a n d m e s s e n g e r , u n l i k e h i s a p p e a r a n c e as t h e m a l i c i o u s
33
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 .
form of the ars m o r i e n d i
E v e r y m a n is a c t u a l l y o n e
already mentioned.
The play shows
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 his l i f e b e f o r e the 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 t o 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 a r s m o r i e n d i ,
E v e r y m a n deals s p e c i f i c a l l y with the church s a c r a m e n t s d i r e c t l y
connected with death:
P e n a n c e , the 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 "
^Ibid .
^de
V o c h t , p. 194.
^ 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.
H o w e v e r , the depiction of Death in the Dance of Death motif
is usually di fferent from the dignified messenger of Everyman.
He is usually a m o c k i n g , 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
t his dominance over Everyman
flaunt hi s power or act jubilant a
orant, unready Everyman:
He, in fact, seems to pity the ign
Loo, yonder I se Eueryma n walkynge.
Full lytell he thynketh on my comynge;
Hi s mynde is on f1esshely lustes, and
his treasure;
And grete payne it shall cause him to
endure
Before the Lorde, heuen[ 's] Kynge (lines 80-84).
Death in Everyman is not depi cted as a force independent
of God, but only as a respectful s ervant of God.
His respect
for his master is seen in his ways of referring to God, such
as "In grete hast I am sende to th e / Fro God out of his
Mageste" (lines 90-91), and again in his reference to God as
"... , .the Chefe Lorde of paradyse" (line 110).
^ K a u l a , p. 11.
52
On the o t h e r hand, Death's o p i n i o n of h i m s e l f i s i n t e r esting:
" I am Dethe, t h a t rio man dreacfeth; / For euery man
I r e s t , and no man s p a r e t h " ( l i n e s 115-116).
impartial
in serious d i g n i t y .
He i s f i n a l
He f e a r s and r e s p e c t s no one
and seems to c o n s i d e r h i m s e l f a kind of o f f i c i a l
o f God.
and
of the law
The word r e s t i n l i n e 116 might mean not only " t o
s t o p , " but a c t u a l l y
"to a r r e s t , "
i n the sense of a p o l i c e
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 .
tsfces him very l i g h t l y , t r y i n g to s t a l l
a bribe:
He at f i r s t
f o r t i m e , even o f f e r i n g
"Yet of my good wyl 1 gyue y e , y f thou wyl be kynde; /
Ye? a thousand pounde s h a l t e thou haue, / And [thou3 d y f f e r r e
t h t s mater t y l l
an o t h e r daye" ( l i n e s 121-123).
He becomes
more s e r i o u s 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 l a s ! s h a l l I haue no longer respyte?
I may saye Deth geueth no warnynge!
To thynke on the i t maketh my h e r t e seke,
For a l l vnredy i s my boke of rekenynqe
( l i n e s 131-134).
The next change i s s t i l l
i n d e s p e r a t i o n , but he has at l a s t
r e a l i z e d t h a t Death cannot be put o f f :
it
"For though I mourne
auay1eth nought, / The day p a s s e t h , and i s almoost ago. /
I wote not w e l l what f o r to do" ( l i n e s 193-195).
By the end
of h i s search f o r company f o r the j o u r n e y , when he has had
the advice of Knowledge and the t r u e companionship of Good
Deeds, Everyman i s no l o n g e r desperate i n 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.
for Everyman.
There are no alternate routes
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
m o t i f , but rather that the pilgrimage m o t i f , known in other
37
1ater medieval non-dramati c w o r k s , 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 p e r s o n i f i e d ,
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
OO
pilgrimage motif which is present in Everyman.
Cast!e is
dated c. 1405 and is the most extensive and complete of the
39
English m o r a l i t i e s ,
containing not only action and costuming
instructions, but diagrams of the staging.
a full range of themes:
Cast!e contains
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, A b s o l u t i o n , 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
m o t i f , 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
W o r l d , the Flesh, and the Devil all state their positions.
•^Craig, p. 348.
^Ibid. ^
40
^ W i l l i a m s , p. 153.
I b i d . , p. 349.
3^3_
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.
chooses to be rich.
Mankind characteristically
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 W o r l d , 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 W o r l d , 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 r o s e s , 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 m o t t o , "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 W o r l d , 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 d i r e c t i o n s , 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 m e s s e n g e r , but an arrogant, m o c k i n g , 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 b r a c k e t e d ,
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
With this poynt I
And wappyn hym in
No body schal ben
of myn empryse;
schal hym breche,
a woful wyse;
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 y o u , 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 m e s s e n g e r of the Devil
58
t h a n of G o d , t h o u g h he s h o u l d 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 , s e e m m o r e
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 f r o m H e l l .
T h i s a s p e c t of
his c h a r a c t e r is m u c h c l o s e r to the D a n c e of D e a t h m o t i f
t h a n are t h o s e o f D e a t h
in
Everyman.
D e a t h in C a s t l e r e f e r s
r e p e a t e d l y to p h y s i c a l h o r r o r s and p a i n s .
In' E v e r y m a n he
k e e p s 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 .
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
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 D e a t h in C a s t ! e f i t s
m o r e n e a t l y i n t o 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 t o w a r d
D e a t h t h a n d o e s D e a t h in Everyman*.
Although 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 s a m e .
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
c o m e to a r e a l i z a t i o n o f the t r u e God and to m a k e his l i f e
right.
In C a s t ! e , the p u r p o s e of D e a t h is to f r i g h t e n
M a n k i n d and to c a t c h him o f f g u a r d .
T h u s , the S u m m o n s of D e a t h t h e m e 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 D e a t h as G o d ' 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 D e a t h as the m a l i c i o u s f o r c e i t s e l f , as s e e n in
the D a n c e o f D e a t h t h e m e 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 m e d i e v a l
prevalent
theme o f Death was a t f i r s t most
in e c c l e s i a s t i c a l
literature,
b u t by t h e end of
t h e f o u r t e e n t h c e n t u r y was w i d e l y used i n p o p u l a r l i t e r a t u r e
as w e l l . " "
I n The C a n t e r b u r y T a l e s , the c h i e f m a s t e r p i e c e o f
popular l i t e r a t u r e ,
medieval
Chaucer s k i 1 1 f u11y uses a l 1 forms o f
literature,
from d i d a c t i c s t o r i e s
bawdy f a b 1 i a u x , by a l l o w i n g the t a l e s
of every l e v e l
chapter w i l l
of s o c i e t y .
study,
t o be t o l d by persons
Thje P a r d o n e r ' s T a l e , whi ch t h i s
i s an example o f C h a u c e r ' s use o f t h e
exemplum, a m o r a l i z e d t a l e used by m e d i e v a l
illustrate
and 'exempi a t o
doctrine.
preachers to
The moral p o i n t o f t h i s
t h a t A v a r i c e must always l e a d t o an e v i l
exemplum i s
e n d , o r i n t h e words
O
o f t h e Pardoner , Radix malorum e s t C u p i d i t a s .
This study w i l l
n o t deal w i t h the v a r i o u s
o f the Pardoner h i m s e l f , h i s
only w i t h the t a l e
that
tale,
itself
i roni c features
c o n f e s s i o n s , or hi s sermon, but
and t h e use o f the Death m o t i f
in
s p e c i f i c a l l y w i t h t h e p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n o f Death.
1 j . H u i z i n g a , The Waning o f the M i d d l e Ages ( L o n d o n ,
1 9 2 7 ) , p. 126.
~"
"
*
2F. N. R o b i n s o n , e d i t o r , The Works of Chaucer (New Y o r k ,
1 9 3 3 ) , pp. 181-187 j l i n e 334. "TuYther™"references "made t o
The P a r d o n e r ' s T a l e w i l l be t a k e n f r o m t h i s e d i t i o n ; o n l y l i n e
numbers V i 11 be c i t e d and those w i l l be g i v e n i n p a r e n t h e s e s
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 personification 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 merrymaMng.
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.
3
W. 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 w i n e , 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 Continent as well as in England.
Chaucer's personal knowledge
of the ravages of the plague made his descriptive power even
m o r e 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 p o s s i b l e . 7
e
The Pardoner's
has an intensity and impressiveness not again reached in
English literature for two hundred y e a r s , chiefly because of the
theme of revel 1ry, drunkenness, and foul speech set against the
sordid background of the Black D e a t h . 8
A familiar theme of the 1i terature of Chaucer's England
was that of the three Messengers of Death:
and Old Age.^
Sickness, Disaster,
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
6
D o r o t h y 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.
'
_
9
H a r i e P. Hamilton, "Death and Old Age in 'The Pardoner's
Tale ," Studies in Philology, XXXVI (October, 1939), 573.
1
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
of D e a t h ; then D i s a s t e r , t h r o u g h the s u d d e n , v i o l e n t end of
the three 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 a l l t h e a s p e c t s
o f c u p i di t a s 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
the s u d d e n n e s s and 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 b y t h e t i n k l i n g o f a b e l l
h e a r d b y 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 .
bell
is b e i n g c a r r i e d w i t h a c o r p s e .
The
" 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 cors w a s c a r i e d to his g r a v e "
(lines 664-665).
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 the t h r e e and then n a m e s also the 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 "
(lines 675-676).
p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n of D e a t h .
T h i s is t h e f i r s t
A f t e r the boy has w a r n e d them to
b e w a r e of D e a t h , the t a v e r n k e e p e r f u r t h e r s the 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 , a n d h y n e , a n d p a g e ;
I t r o w e his habi taci oun be there, (lines 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 o f m u t u a l fai th t h a t t h e y w i l l
find and kill the "false t r a y t o u r D e e t h " (line 6 9 9 ) .
10
11
This oath
I b i d . , p. 574.
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 , and the P a r d o n e r ' s T a l e , " S p e c u l u m , XXX ( A p r i l , 1955)
194.
~
~
64
foreshadows their own deaths and marks them for that inevitable
fo
end.
Their deaths follow swiftly after their breaking of
the vow of brotherhood, thus making the false swearing of oaths
1O
at least partially responsible for their deaths.
The three r e v e l l e r s , 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 D e e t h , 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 m y staf, bothe erly and late, .
And seye "Leeve m o o d e r , 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
e x c i t e d , 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
12
13
R ooters
o t , Pp.encounter,
229.
M i 1 lthey
e r , p.
194.wi th such rudeness,
three ri
and whom
treat
14
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 w a y , 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
17
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 m e s s e n g e r ,
Old A g e . ^ 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
oak tree, rather than merely pointing them toward Death itself.
All of the studies which identify the old m a n as Death personi-
*1J 0
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
16
G e o r g e Lyman Ki ttredge, Chaucer and His Poetry (Cambridge
1915) , p. 215.
Turbid.
"^Robinson, p. 836.
19 Barakat, p. 212.
20
R o b e r t E. Todd,••"•The Magna Mater Archetype in The
r 1 s Tale
Tale," Li terature and Psychology, XV (Winter, 1965)
Pardoner's
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 w e y ,
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 interpretation of the old man as Death, one specific rebuttal calls
the theory inadequate because the old m a n 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 m i g h t easily have accomplished the deaths of the
?1
three had the old man never appeared.
One w o n d e r s , of
course, whether the three would have found the gold without
directions from the old man.
A n o t h e r , more tenable argument is that it seems unlikely
that Death himself would be, by his own admission, seeking
22
death.
man
Further disagreement with the theory that the old
is Death personified is based on the fact that there is
insufficient textual evidence to support it, and that, further,
such an interpretation spoils m u c h 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.
23
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,
OC
and hence resembles Death."
He is described very clearly
by C h a u c e r , seven times being called "old man," once "old
churl," and four times "age," meaning Old Age.
In this
i n t e r p r e t a t i o n , the old man's lack of love for m o n e y , or his
lack of g r e e d , in his agedness makes him the perfect one to
direct the g r e e d y , 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 represent i n g endless Old Age.
If he were simply an old man, he
would d i e , as the aged die, but Age or Old Age always remains
97
as a perpetual reminder of Death.
^ H a m i l t o n , p. 576 .
^ I b i d. , p. 572.
26
27
Ibid.
Tbid.
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
po
coming.
However, if the Wandering Jew represents Death's
o p p o s i t e , 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
m a n 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,
tionship with death is certain.
Odin's legendary rela-
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
28
B u s h n e l l , 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 (longbeard); Vafud, or Vegtam (wanderer); Viatorindefessus (Unwearied
traveler); Grimr (hooded); Ganglier (way-weary); Gondlir (staffon
bearer); and Vidforull (far-traveler).
If Chaucer did not use an existing tradition as the source
for his old m a n , and if the old man is not Death personified,
one must assume he might be literally intended as an old m a n ,
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
OO
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.
32
Ibld.
33
34
X b i d.
I b i 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 , t h i s s t u d y p o i n t s out that it is h i g h l y i n a p p r o p r i a t e t h a t a m e s s e n g e r of D e a t h in the f o r m of Old A g e s h o u l d
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 t h a t the only
a p p r o p r i a t e M e s s e n g e r of D e a t h to this t a l e w o u l d be D i s a s t e r ,
35
w h i c h is m o s t l i k e l y and w h i c h in f a c t d o e s o c c u r .
T h e i n t e r p r e t a t i o n in the s a m e s t u d y 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 u n u s u a l and h i g h l y
questionable:
T h e old -man is s e e k i n g d e a t h not f l e e i n g f r o m i t , f o r
he d o e s n o t k n o w i t is in the g r o v e ; he d o e s not k n o w
w h e r e it i s , m u c h as he w o u l d l i k e to k n o w . He d o e s
n o t , I n d e e d c a n n o t , lead the r e v e l l e r s to the gold and
p o i n t it o u t to t h e m , f o r as far as he k n o w s t h e r e is
nothing there.3"
A c c o r d i n g to t h i s s t u d y , the old m a n d o e s not w a r n t h e m
a g a i n s t w h a t t h e y w i l l find t h e r e , as the t a v e r n boy has
w a r n e d t h e m 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 t h i n k s they
w i l l find n o t h i n g .
T h e e x p l a n a t i o n of t h i s i n t e r p r e t a t i o n
is t h a t s i n c e the old man is still s e e k i n g d e a t h w h e n he m e e t s
the r e v e l l e r s , he m u s t not h a v e s e e n the gold h i m s e l f and
m u s t not r e a l l y k n o w it is t h e r e .
If he k n e w of the gold
and of D e a t h ' s w a i t i n g u n d e r the t r e e , he w o u l d l o g i c a l l y
37
h a v e s t a y e d t h e r e r a t h e r than go on.
The o n l y r e a s o n
t h a t the old m a n s e n t .the t h r e e r e v e l l e r s to the oak w a s
35
I b i d . , p. 51.
37
1 bid.
36
Ibid.
71
that he wanted to be rid of them and be on his way after
they had threatened him:
Thou partest nat so l i g h t l y , by Seint John!
Thou spak right now of thi'lke traytour Deeth
T h a t in this contree alle oure freendes sleeth
Have heer my t r o u t h e , as thou art his e s p y e ,
Telle w h e r e 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 y o n g e f o l k , thou false theef!
(lines 752-759).
There is a theory which accounts for the old m a n ' s not
staying with the gold to find his d e a t h ; greed causes d e a t h ,
not actually the g o l d , and the old man has no longer any feelings
q o
of greed.
If the old man literally seeks d e a t h , why should
he fear the threats of the young m e n and send them on a useless
errand?
Would he not more 1ogi cal1y submi t there and then and
find his l o n g - s o u g h t - a f t e r rest?
In the argument that the old
man is not Death p e r s o n i f i e d , it is asserted that if the old
man is in any way a l l e g o r i c a l , he knows the meaning of his
own w o r d s and consequently the dramatic irony and allegory
39
fail.
It also points out the w e a k n e s s of the irony in the
a c c u s a t i o n that the old man is a spy of Death if he is intended
a l l e g o r i c a l l y as t h a t . ^
C h a u c e r leaves unanswered many questions about the old
man:
who he is; where he comes from; where he is going;
w h o s e gold is beneath the tree; how it got there.
All of
these points Chaucer has d e l i b e r a t e l y o b s c u r e d ; they are what
38
39
H a m i 1 ton, p. 572.
tf. J. B. O w e n , p. 52.
40
rbid.
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 consider him totally u n i m p o r t a n t . 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 m a c a b r e 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 symbolically the same, and that the Pardoner is representative of
vetus h o m o , or the "old man" of the flesh, as contrasted with
'rioV us' h o m o , 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
way.^
The three revellers find their own deaths by following
the advice of vetus homo, in the form of the old m a n , and not
that of the novus homo, who is in this tale represented by the
45
tavern b o y , 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
^ I b i d. , p. 50.
42ibid., p. 49.
43
D a v i d , p. 42.
44
45
Ibid.
46-r 0 dd, p. 35.
M i l l e r , p. 197.
73
cycle is implied h e r e , that is, that the m o t h e r is the first
w o r l d of the child and the last world of the a d u l t . 4 7
b e l i e v e s this i m p l i c a t i o n can be found in the text:
He
"And on
the g r o u n d , w h i c h is m y m o o d r e s g a t e , / I knokke with my s c a f ,
bothe erly' and late" (lines 7 2 9 - 7 3 0 ) .
The w o r d s "erly" and
"late" are the k e y , c o r r e s p o n d i n g to the w o m b - t o m b t h e o r y .
H o w e v e r the old man m a y be i n t e r p r e t e d , he is connected
e i t h e r d i r e c t l y or indirectly with death.
As some critics
point o u t , his p o i n t i n g the way to the oak tree is s p e c i f i c a l l y
s y m b o l i c of his c o n n e c t i o n with death.
In some f o l k t a l e s
there is the b e l i e f that Death is excluded from sacred g r o v e s ;
t h e r e f o r e , the old m a n , r e p r e s e n t i n g D e a t h , can only direct
the three r e v e l l e r s t h e r e , but he can not go there h i m s e l f .
This t h e o r y , h o w e v e r , ignores the fact that the old man has
just been in that grove;' he says to the r e v e l l e r s , "For in
that grove I lafte h y m , by my fey" (line 762).
The single oak tree itself is sacred to all A r y a n n a t i o n s
in E u r o p e as "the tree of the dead and the abode of the d e p a r t e d
s p i r i t s . " T h e r e was a ceremonial ritual p e r f o r m e d in v a r i o u s
parts of Europe in c o n n e c t i o n with the coming of spring in
w h i c h . a n effigy of Death was b u r i e d u n d e r an oak tree so that
47ik-jd.
of
48
B a r a k a t , p. 212.
. . 4 9 I b i d . , as .quoted, from. Maria L e a c h , e d i t o r , 'Dictions
Folklore , M y t h o l o g y and 'Legend. (New Y o r k , 1 9 5 0 ) , 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, " C h a u c e r ' s 'Fowle Ok' and The
Pardoner' s Tale," Modern Language Notes, LXXI (.May, 1956), 321.
^ T o d d , p. 38.
53
M i H e r , p. 1 96.
52
Ib±d.-
54
Ibid.
75
fruit of the great Mother Earth as is the wine which poisons
55
two of the revellers.
Thus, if the "mother" about whom
the old m a n 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 7 7 2 ) , 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 w a i t i n g , the
gold they find there is not itself Death; Death lies in the
a-varice of m e n .
One specific form of avarice is pointed out
which m i g h t 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 d e a t h , but also about spiritual life and death in
CQ
the Christian sense,
The three revellers are physically
but not spiritually y o u n g , and they represent w h a t has already
55
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
^ D a v i d , 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 m a n , 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 l i t e r a l l y . 6 4
The-.dramatic-irony of the old man's si tuation is intensified
59
61
63
M i 1 l e r , p. 195.
Ibid.
R o o t , p. 227.
60
I b i d . , p. 196.
62
l b i d . , p. 194.
64
W . 0. B. Owen, p. 52,
77
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 T a l e , 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 m u s t 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,
h o w e v e r , fail to see that the gold under the tree is actually
themselves d e a d , 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.
these images combine to m a k e an intensely macabre tale.
^ H a m i l t o n , p. 512.
All of
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 m o r a l 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.
78
In The Cast! e
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 m e s s a g e 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
m o r e obviously.
oyer all m e n .
That is the idea of Death's ultimate power
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 m o r e complex, but it is still present.
In the
ta-vern boy's warning there is the threat of death even for
three m e n still in their youth.
The medieval idea that no
one is safe underlies the general theme of pestilence arid
m o r t a l i t y 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 , o n e
s e e n in all the w o r k s s t u d i e d h e r e , is t h e m o t i f of t h e 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 .
The basic
t h e m e is a g a i n T h e D a n c e o f 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 o f 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 t h e 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 , b u t it is a
p r o c e s s i o n o n l y in t h e s e n s e t h a t he is o b e y i n g t h e 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 , b u t it l e a d s e v e r to t h e 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 t h e
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 t h e y s e e k , a l t h o u g h e n r o u t e
they f o r g e t w h a t they 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 cession.
T h u s , t h e p e r s o n i f i c a t i o n o f D e a t h in l a t e r M i d d l e
English literature follows a clearly traceable pattern, which
h a s 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 o f T h e D a n c e
s
of D e a t h .
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