r ! I J J 1 ^mmmm * -J' fjrr.^T r^J*^.! ^Fx^M^ im n :>\-;%>.> t?:^^: pi It;'!' I.- „.-•**:; ^^'i^" :-^ f: .ss^-^rf- ^.. THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA RIVERSIDE iy^:-.i' ,;■ ^;^jg m-f- ^">?ur Jsfl t.'w" '■ ■■ ?*- J'^^^W* »»-.' - ;,_■".;•?' J -^i- ^&4 ' -3 r^. - -T-L-^-*»^-» 'Ai' ' T;!,"*"^ S fi .- - *» '* '^ r '■^^-'d >^tm ^.: Ex Libris ISAAC FOOT 'fm. ® ^ K ) f,^ > > : / • j^- i :,'j By the same AtitJwr. The Characteristics of the Romantic and Classical Styles, being the Members' Prize Essay for 1879- Deighton, Bell and Co., Cambridge. T/ie First Quarto Edition of Hamlet, being the Essay to which the Harness Prize was jointly awarded, rS8o- Smith, Elder and Co., London. A Sketch of the Social History of the English Drama, lieing the Le Bas Prize Essay for 1880. E. Johnson, Cambridge. The Stoics as Teachers, being the Hare Prize Essay for 1881. E.Johnson, Cambridge. STUDIES IN THE LITERARY RELATIONS OF ENGLAND AND GERMANY IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. ILontion: C. J. CLAY AND SON, CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS WAREHOUSE, AVE MARIA LANE. CambriOge: DEIGHTON, BELL AND CO. Ecipjifl: F. A. BROCKHAUS. STUDIES IN THE LITERARY RELATIONS OF ENGLAND AND GERiVIANY IN THE SIXTEENTH CENTURY. BY CHARLES H. HERFORD, M.A. Ill OV TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE, LATE BERKELEY FELLOW OF THE UWENS COLLEGE, MANCHESTER. C A ATI '.RIDGE: AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS. 1 886 [//// Rif;hts resented."] le patois Qiic le sazietier Sachs init eii gloire autrefois. Ml'sset D. Juan. Bcltraii, satirico estds ! Belt. I En qite discrcto, siriior, No firedomina ese humor? Alarcon. CAMBRIDGE: PRINTED BV C. J. CLAV, M.A. & SON, AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS. PREFACE. THE researches embodied in the present volume were prosecuted during my tenure of one of the Berkeley fellowships of the Owens College ; and I have, at the outset, to express my acknowledgments to the Council, not merely for thus enabling me to follow out a long-formed scheme of investigation, but for the extreme indulgence which I have enjoyed during its pro- tracted execution. An unusually explicit statement of literary obligations is one of the few ways in which those who venture to write books on unfamiliar sub- jects can acknowledge their indebtedness to those who read them. I should otherwise shrink from the egoism of saying that the present volume owes its original stimulus to a few lectures upon the German literature of the sixteenth century, by three masters in it, Professors Erich Schmidt, Geiger and Schercr, tc; which I had the privilege VI PREFACE. of listening (in the last case as a casual visitor) at Vienna and Berlin, in the summers of 1881 and 1882. I do not think that much of the book in its present shape is directly due to them, even where it deals most immediately with German literature; but I owe to their luminous and vivid exposition the sense for the peculiar power of this remarkable literature, without which I should hardly have attempted to trace its reflexions in our own. Among other aids to the study of the German branch of the subject I need scarcely refer to the classical editions of particular books by Zarncke, Adelbert v. Keller, Lappenberg, Hoffmann v. Fal- lerslcben, Oesterley, Schade, the brilliant incidental work done by Scherer and Erich Schmidt on the Latin drama and the novel in scattered articles and lectures, still less to the invaluable Grimdriss of Goedeke, nowhere so invaluable as for exactly this period. In working out the English side, I owe most to a somewhat old-fashioned school of anti- quarians, — Thoms, Wright and Kemble, to various publications of the Percy, Shakspeare, and New Shakspcre Societies, to the editorial work of Dyce, Ward, Wagner, Oesterley, and, finally, to the two admirable essays of Prof K. Elze, — one of them contained in the introduction to his edition of the Alplionsus, — which, excepting perhaps the melan- choly abortions of the late William Bell, are the only previous attempts with which I am ac- quainted to carry out a design somewhat re- sembling that of the present volume. It remains to refer to more personal obligations. I have to thank PREFACE. VI 1 the librarians of the Bodleian, of Queen's College, Oxford, and of the Royal Library at Berlin, for ex- ceptional kindness in sending particulars of books in their possession ; Mr F. Seebohm for making in- quiries about Ralph Radcliff at Hitchin; and Prof. Ward, Dr H. Hager, Dr Furnivall, Dr J. Bolte of Berlin, and Mr A. H. Bullen for incidental help always willingly given. For more ordinary good offices I am indebted to the librarians of Lambeth, the Cambridge Public Library, the Free, Chetham and Owens College libraries in Manchester, and above all to the late and present superintendents of the Reading-room of the British Museum. Superfluous as it may seem, I cannot refrain from expressing the immensity of my debt to the last-named library, some idea of which will be conveyed by my notes. Not only has almost the entire work of research been done there, but a great part of it could have been done nowhere else. There alone, whether in Germany or in England, was it possible to draw upon a collection in which the original literatures of both countries were richly represented, where above all there was an unrivalled store of the German .satires and pasquils of the Reformation. I have accordingly been enabled to attempt through- out a fairly high degree of iniiiutencss in the matter of references. The infinite opportimities of error which this method brings with it I rannfit indeed possibly hope to have escaped; and 1 .iin paiiiliill\- con.scious of needing in this respect as in others an indulgence which I have neither the right to ask, nor the critic, perhaps, to give. It may at least, VI 11 PREFACE. however, be taken, where the contrary is not implied, that every book here referred to I have seen, and that every judgment passed is founded upon first-hand knowledge. I have reserved to the close a special obligation. I have to thank Professor Ward both for the loan of books (for which I am also indebted to my friends Dr H. Hager, and Mr J. Finlayson) and for the great kindness with which, in the midst of multifarious work, he undertook to revise my proof- sheets. Almost all of them owe something to hav- ing passed under the eye of undoubtedly the most competent of living English scholars in the double field which I have attempted to traverse. It is now a considerable number of years since I derived from Prof. Ward the first impulse to literary study; I rejoice at the circumstances which have per- mitted me thus to resume under a new guise some- what of the old forms, and to renew some of the old privileges, of studentship. A book like the present is necessarily addressed mainly to two classes of literary specialists, not precisely identical in character. I have in general avoided dealing at length with matters thoroughly familiar to English as well as to German scholar- ship. In certain parts of the subject however it was necessary to be cither obscure to the one or redundant to the other; and here my German critics will hardly blame me for having, in an English book, considered chiefly the English reader. The introductions, particular!}-, to the various chap- ters, and other portions dealing with German litera- PREFACE. IX ture, though founded throughout on original study, pretend to no originalit}' of result ; but I am not without hope that they may be acceptable to the English student of a too much neglected epoch. Portions of Chapter I. have already appeared in the Academj, of Chapter III. in the EngliscJie sStitdieti, and of Chapter VI. in the Cor nJiill Maga- zine. I have to thank Messrs Smith and Elder in the last case for permission to reprint. London, April, 1886. CONTENTS. Introduction (xix — xxix). Aim of the work; xix. — Nature of the literary influence of Ger- many in the sixteenth century ; xx. — Humanist and Protestant contributions; xxii. — Literary influence of German Protestantism in England; xxiv; — of Secular Satire ; xxv. — Summary; xxviii. PART I. CHAPTER I. Lyrics (i — 20). German and English lyric literature in 1535 ; 1. — Meistergcsang : Historic songs ; 4. — German lyrics in I'ingiand ; 5. — Ballad of Turk- ish defeat at Siseg ; 6. — Lutheran spiritual songs, 1524-1531 ; 8. — Coverdale's ' Goostly songs'; 11. — Taithcr and Covcrdalc ; 12. — Speratus and Coverdale ; 13. — Dachstcin and Coverdak- ; 14 — Novel metres ; i/>. — Conclusion; [5. Taiii.k of Coverdale's Hymns and their orif^inaN ; 17. CHAPTER n. POLKMICAL DlALOGUi:.S (2 I — 69). Introduction (21 — 33). The dialogues of the sixteenth century; 21. — Mediaeval dia- logues; 12. — Dialogue in the hands ol the Humanists: Erasmus and Hutten ; 24. — The German dialogues of the Reformation ; 26. Xll CONTENTS. I. I'llK IMALOOUE IN ENGLAND. FlKST PERIOD: I530 (33— 50)- Roy, Barlow, Tyndale ; 33. — i. ' Rede me and be not wrolhe'; 34. — Its relation to Manuel's Die krankheit der Mcsse ; 40. — 2. 'Dia- logue between a Christian Father, '&c. ; 44. — 3. ' Dialogue between a Gentleman and a Husbandman ' ; 45. — Catholic dialogues : Wing- field, Barlow, Erasmus, Sir T. More ; 46. II. Second period: 1547301. (50 — 69). Scoloker's translation of Sachs' Disputation ; 51. — English dia- logues of the same school : John Bon ; 54. — Robin Conscience ; 55. — The 'drama of debate ' in England ; 56. — The Trial-motive in dia- logue; Witzel; Lycaon; Spiel von der Fassnacht ; 57. — W.Turner: his exile; 61. — His 'Examination of the Mass'; 63. — The ' En- dightment against Mother Messe ' ; 65. — Resch's Dialogue of Tmo Sisters translated by Lynne ; 66. — Dialogues under Mary; 67. — Under Elizabeth ; 68. CHAPTER III. The Latin Drama (70 — 164). Introduction (70—74). Character of the Latin drama of the sixteenth century in Eng- land ; 70. — In Germany ; 71. I. Short History of the Latin Drama in Germany (74—105). 1. The Humanists. — 'Pageants': Celtes's Ludns Dianae; hochtr^s Spectaciiliwi ; 75. — Satiric dramas : Wimpheling's 3'/j'///4o; Codrus ; Reuchlin's Sergius ; 11. — Later 'pageants' and satiric dramas: Schotten and Lemnius ; 78,79. — The ' Christian Terence': Chilianus's Dorothea ; 79. — The Modern Terence ; Reuchlin's Henno; 80. — Italian Humanist comedies in Germany : Aretino, Zambertus, Ugolino ; 83. 2. The Christian Terence. The Dutch School : Gnapheus's Acolastus ; 85. — Crocus's Joseph; 86.— Macropedius's ^jf?/?^, &c.; 87. — The South-west: The Latin and the vernacular drama; 88. — Sixt Birck's Susanna; 91. — T. Kirchmayer's Pammachius ; 93. — Later dramas of the Christian Terence school : Schonaeus ; ib. CONTENTS. Xlll 3. Preponderance of secular subjects and tragic treatment ; 95. — The Senecean Renaissance; 98. — Buchanan; ih. — N. Frischlin ; 100. — The Strassburg School; loi. — C. Briilow; 103. — Conclu- sion; 105. II. Beginnings of Latin Drama in England (105 — 119). First period: 1524 — 1535. Performances at Court; Ritwyse's Dido; 107. — Artour and Hoker ; ib. — Second period : 1535 — 1550. Palsgrave's translation of the Acolastus; 108. — Christoferson. School dramas: N. Udall and Ralph Radcliff; 109. — N. Grimald ; 113 . — H is Archipropheta ; 114. III. KiRCHMAYER AND BaLE (119 — 13S). Life and writings of T. Kirchmayer; lao. — Vl\s Paiiiinachms ; 124. — The Paniiiiachius in England; 129. — Performed at Cam- bridge; //'. — Translated by Bale ; 131. — UtAq's Kytige jfoliaii : 132. — His relation to the Pammachius ; 135. IV. Kirchmayer and Foxe (138 — 149). Foxe at Basel. His Christus Triumphans; 139. — Its Plot; 141. — Its relation to ihc Pammachius; 143. — Biblical dramas of the Protestant Restoration ; 148. V. Gascoigne and the German School-drama (149 — 164). Description of the Glasse of Government ; 150. — The Gcmiaii 'Prodigal Son dramas'; 152. — Macropcdius, Waldis, Gnaplicus; 153.— Schonglish satire ; Rush and Ulenspiegel, translated at one of the keenest crises of the Reforma- tion, became standing figures in English jest and legend. And the two generations which followed developed new points of contact which proved the most fruitful of all. The political triumph of Protestantism was no sooner assured than the literary tide began to ebb away with a / / / XXVI INTRODUCTION. sustained and gathering force to which a far more brilHant and~Tfgorous literature must have succumbed. Court and University sowed the seeds of a new Humanism still less in sympathy than the old with the religion of Luther which most of its disciples ostentatiously professed. The work of a professional literary class, trained on Petrarch and Ovid, Seneca and Boccaccio, Cinthio and Guevara, cheapened the pious testimonies of citizen and divine against the Roman Antichrist. A vigorous and brilliant culture of literary form placed the most formidable ob- stacle in the way of a return to the Egypt of Bale and Coverdale. The monotonous ferocity, the vague and tremulous drawing, of Protestant satire, gave way to a quick and observant humour and a style touched with the vividness and pungency of an etching. The Morality was swept away before a drama which consciously strove to hold up the mirror to nature, and not to a symbolic substitute for it in the didactic mind. ' The result of all these steps was, on a first glance, completely to alienate literary England from literary Germany. If she had imitated feebly and abortively, ' while her course lay parallel, all imitation was now ap- parently put out of the question by her changed aims in art. Nevertheless, it was precisely in this epocli of bril- liant progress in the one country, of slow decay relieved by uncertain symjjtoms of a yet remote recovery in the other, that their literary intercourse bore the richest fruit to the richer, as it notoriously did to the poorer of the two. In literary form Germany could now less than ever teach her rival; but the raw material of satire and tragedy thrown out in three generations of revolution had capaci- ties yet unexhausted, of which the Elizabethan genius, though approaching by a quite different route, was quali- fied to make the most. The gross and drastic realism, INTRODUCTION. XXVU the bold and familiar play with the supernatural, the Grobianism and Titanism, in which Germany of the six- teenth century had uttered her cry of mock exultation or of tragic exasperation at her evil state, fell in with the literary fashions of the most brilliant and sanguine age of English history, and offered acceptable pabulum to a school of satire steadily developing a genius for close observation, and a school of tragedy persistently striving after thrilling effects. The indignant irony, the feverish fancy of the social reformer were taken at their esthetic valuation. The energetic phrases in which character had uttered its protest against evil, found echo and ap- plause where energetic phrases were keenly relished for their own sake. Dedekind's ironical exposure of the gross manners of his countrymen was reproduced in the GuV s Horn-booke; the Ship of Fools, reprinted after an interval of sixty years, was still an unexhausted model of satire. And a new source of dramatic effect, destined to create a prolonged attraction on the English stage, was discovered in the dealings of some specially audacious or specially favoured hero with supernatural Powers : Faustus, by his pact with the devil, Fortunatus by the gifToTTortune, careering with j^rivileged security through a romantically uncritical world ; or a whole convent of ascetics seduced into gluttonous riot by the dissimulated devilry of l-'riar Rush. I'ossibly we ought to add the Shakspercan Prospero, but the German origin of the Tempest is still at most a plausible guess. In this region of half-grandiose, half-humorous supernaturalism lay, beyond a doubt, tlie most important direction of (}erman influence, as of German achievement, both in mass and in result. It was the line of cleavage at which the other- wise difficult barrier of national unlikeness yielded ready passage. Marlowe's Faustus was not only a play of XXVI 11 INTRODUCTIOX. immense popularity ; it was not only, as I hope to render l)robable, the starting-point of a series of related dramas, the Fortunatus among them, all more or less evidently coloured l)y its influence. It introduced a new class of situations into English drama, by substituting, as a tragic motive, for the ferocious murders and ill-omened love- intrigues of the Italian novel, for the family feuds and incests of Seneca, and the military casualties of the English chronicle, the exciting suspense of a diabolic pact. To sum up in a single trait. If the extraordinarily gifted, yet relatively barbarous, Germany of the sixteenth century was, in pure literature, of any moment for its neighbours, it was chiefly in so far as it made literary capital of its barbarism. Its moods of ideal aspiration, its laborious efforts to honour virtue and nobility, its pictures of pure women and heroic patriots, counted for little. The end- less Susannas and Josephs of its stage remained as un- known as Fischart's brilliant celebration of the peaceful league of Switzerland and Alsace, or Hans Sachs' quaint retelling of the most famous stories of all literature, or the unpretending beauties of the popular song. Even the Humanists of Germany, proficients though they were in the graces of Humanist style, commonly arrived at European fame, if at all, by some other channel. Had Horace, like Frischlin's Cicero, revisited the upper world, northern Europe could have shown him no Latin lyrics so graceful and sparkling as those of Celtes and Hessus ; but Celtes and Hessus remained provincial stars when Markolf and Ulenspiegel and the Ship of Fools had the ear of Europe ; and all the fascinating brilliancy of Hutten did not save him from being celebrated abroad chiefly as the advocate of an unedifying drug. It was not in her casual and fitful wooing of beauty that Germany caught the attention of the world, but when she grappled INTRODUCTION. XXIX with ugliness, plunging breast-high in the slough and de- risively impaling its creeping population of foul things. Clowns and fools, rogues and necromancers, were, so far as most Englishmen knew, the staple literary product of the German people. They heard only the harsher and fiercer notes of its voice ; in Grobianus, its ironical scoft' at brutal manners; in the S/u'p of Fools, its harsh rebuke of presumption and of brutality in the name of sober self-concern and civil decorum ; in Ulenspiegel, its robust effort to capitalise the humour of every conceivable offence against decency ; in Faustus, its cry of blended horror and exultation at the boundless aspirations of emancipated intellect. I need hardly add a word upon the plan of the present volume. The two parts are devoted to the two wholly distinct regions of literary intercourse which I have in- dicated. The first three chapters attempt to follow out in detail the brief and, on the whole, abortive Uterary influence of German Protestant art. in its several branches, — the hymn, the dialogue, the drama. The seconJ part deals with the more fruitful influence of secular literature, — roughly grouped under four heads, — which for the purj)ose of international intercourse are fairly adequate, — the literature of sorcerers, of jesters, of * fools ' and of Grobians. ADDENDA ET CORRIGENDA. p. 3, n. for Oegier read Oeglin. p. 8, 1. II. for Goostly Psalmes and Spiritual songs read Goostly Songs and Spiritual Psalmes. p. 9, 1. 14. for Masculus read Musculus. p. 9, 1. 15. for Hubert read Ruber. p. 17,1. 16. for YLoXtosq read ¥i.o\xoss. p. 32. (English polemical dialogues). A reference should here have been added to the grammarian Lily's Anti-borricon against Whittington. p. 44, n. for Enser read Emser. p. 63, n. for Shraxton read Shaxton. p. 88, 1. 2. For it belongs quite to the type of the.. Acolasius. read li was drawn not less than the... A colasttis. p. 93, marg. Dele I. p. 95, 1. 7. for ille read\S\\. p. 97, 1. 2. for Birch read Birck. p. 97, 1. 25. for Caleminus read Calaminus. p. 113 n. RadclifPs work, like the Oxford play, was doubtless based on A. Guarna's Grammaticale Belliun, Nominis et Verbi Regum de principalitate oratiottis inter se contendentium (Argent, et Lips. 1512). It was translated into English 1569, (2nd edition 1576). p. 167 n. y^r yon... yon ;ra^ you... you. ib. for Becarus read Becanus. p. 173. ('News-sheets from Germany'). This paragraph is well illustrated by a passage in Earle's description of the 'pot-poet': 'His frequentest works go out in single sheets, and are chanted from market to market to a vile tune and a worse throat; whilst the poor country-wench melts like her own butter to hear them. And these are the stories of some men of Tybum, or a strange monster oiit of Germany.'' p. I79n. I am glad to learn that the latter part of this note is no longer in point, a new edition of Prof. Ward's Faustus and Friar Bacon being in the press. p. 243. (Bebel and Pauli). A reference should here be in- troduced to Ottomar Luscinius' Joci et Sales, 1524. p. 264 n. 2. for 1574 read 1474. PART I. CHAPTER I. Lyrics. In introducing the first printed edition of Wyatt and German Surrey to his readers, the pubHsher, Tottell, thought it EtKrlish necessary to dwell with some emphasis on the strange ^>'^'^ fashion of the new poetry. ' If perhappes some mislike the statelinesse of stile removed from the rude skill of common earcs, I exhort the unlearned, by reading to leame to be more skilfull, and to purge that swine- like grossenesse that makcth the swete maieromc not to smell to their delight '.' And in a great degree the implied judgment was true. If Wyatt and Surrey did not found the English lyric, as popular criticism is apt to assume, they undeniably gave it a new development very sharply distinguished from the old. No such definite turning-point can be found in tlie course of the contemporary lyric literature of Germany. The tide was no doubt setting gradually in the same direction; and the growing cultivation (jf music at the courts told entirely in favour of a more refined and artificial lyric style. lUit courtly Humanists like Surrey, or Ronsard, did not yet write in German ; Conrad Celtis, ^ Totlell's Miscellany, ed. Arbcr. II. I L YRICS. [CHAP. perhaps the nearest parallel to Surrey among the German Humanists, was only the first of Lathi poets, and Ronsard had nearly a century to wait for the doubtful honour of inspiring Opitz'. The superiority of England is less clear when we compare the unreformed songs from which Tottell strove to wean his readers, with the abundant stores of con- temporary Germany. It is true that Tottell was far too contemptuous; in his zeal to commend the dainty refinement of the new songs, he was a little blind to the genuinely lyrical quality of many of the old. There are quite enough vivacious carols ^ tender and graceful love-songs^, spiritual-songs*, lays of summer and spring*, to vindicate the often nameless poets of the 15th and early 1 6th century from the charge of complete barbarism. But such a charge would be still more out of the question as applied to the lyrics currently familiar among Tottell's contemporaries in Germany. It may even be said that if there was one branch of literature in which, in the first quarter of the century, F-ngland might distinctly have learnt from Germany, it was that of the popular lyrics, — those Volkslicder which are, after all, among the chief glories of German poetry. In range of subject, in variety of emotion, in beauty and vigour of line, in •^ Cf. his Biich dcr deutschcn Poctcrcy. * Cf. Wright, Songs and Carols of tlic i-,tk cent my. Ritson, Ancient Songs and Ballads : e.g. No. 6 (Syr Christenmasse). ' E.g. ' My hart, my mynde and my hole powre, ' witli music by Tavemer, in the unique ' Boke ' of 1530 (Br. Mus.), which deserves to be reprinted entire. Some quotations are made by Ritson, u.s. and Chappell Music of the 0. T. * E.g. the beautiful ' In youth and age in welth and woo Auxilium meum in domino,' — in the above Bo/::e. Cf. also Wright, Songs and Carols of the i ^th centwy. ^ E. g. ' Pleasure yt ys To here I wys ' in the Boke. I.] GERMAN AND ENGLISH LYRICS. 3 sure, instinctive acquaintance with the inexhaustible wells of lyric inspiration, very little that existed in England at the same time can compare with the treasure of songs first collected on a large scale by Georg Forster'. They are the result of natural lyric faculty working in the presence of a very rich literary tradition, now wholly independent of it, now involuntarily catching its likeness. They are unsurpassed in that artless utterance of simple feelings which goes so far towards lyric pathos, — the mere 'Ach Got wie weh thut scheiden!' or brief snatches of verse such as this, which, for simple intensity, could not easily be paralleled in the English lyrics of the time, Ach Elslein, lieber bule, wie gem \var ich bei dir; so flicssen zwei tiefe wasser wol zwischen mir und dir". But this natural lyric style is enriched at a number of points by traits caught from that Minnc-o.wX'i which in England was at most an exotic and short-lived growth. The writers of these lyrics were certainly not a race of laborious epigoni like the Meistcrsiinger, but something of the quality of the extinct Mituielied reappears in not a little of their verse, its union of refined artifice of form with artless unreserve of expression, its singing and lilting lines, its unsought distinction of manner, its gracious and noble passion. They continually recal tlic beautiful ' Ein auszup putcr alter un newer Tcutscher lic(lli;in...Niirn- t'crg, 1539. 'he first extant printed collection is Ucgicr's, 1512 (Gocdeke § no). I have used Uhland's great collection [,Die deutschcn Volkiliclcr) and Tittmann's excellent LiaUrbiich dcs i6(cn y. The well-known Dcs Knabai Wtindcrhorn of Arniin and Brentano is of course more comprehensive than the latter, but useless for critical study. ' YoxsiQr'a Samliittg, 1540, pt. it., Tittmann Ldk/i i. 84. Z YRICS. [CHAP. but half conventional symbolism of the Minnelied, by which the red rose, the nightingale, the daisy, the falling leaf served to interpret the play of love. Classic situations of the Minnelied — such as that of the Togeiveiseox Atibade the parting song of lovers at dawn, upon the 7vdchier's cry, — are transferred from the feudal society to which they naturally belong into close company with peasant courtships by the spring or the Fcnsterk still familiar in Tyrol. Meisterge- And, apart from such suggestions of a past which ^toruches^' '^"^ England had scarcely existed, the lyric of the 15 th Lied.' and 1 6th centuries underwent peculiar developments of its own. Nothing in English society quite resembled two institutions which first took definite shape in the age * of Maximilian I., and each of which set its stamp upon the national lyric. The poetic gilds, of which the Meister- sanger were the highest rank, carried it into a scholastic region in which all sense of the true value of form was lost in excessive elaboration of it, and the elaborate metrical machinery of the canzone applied unconcernedly to the homeliest bit of genre'^. On the other hand, no small number of the ' historic songs ' of Germany proceeded from the very different school of the Lafidsktiec/iie". Wholly careless of niceties of style, often barely satisfying the simplest laws of verse, writing hastily in the intervals of action ^, their strength lay in literal narrative, in the ^ E.g. Von einem Freiheit undvon Cttnz Zwergen (Leipzig 1521), and Vo7i einetn Schneider tmd Sc}mh?nachcr (o. O. u. J.) (repr. Tittmann, Licderhuch, pp. 363, 374); — the one relates a grotesque village incident, the other a neighbours' quarrel, in stanzas of four- teen lines. ^ The Tlistorische Lieder are collected in the great work of Liliencron. ' Cf. e.g. the French account of the siege of Metz, where the author, a lansquenet who had taken part in it, describes himself as I.] GERMAN LYRICS IN ENGLAND. 5 eloquence of bare facts. Instead of the business-like assiduity of the Meister, their cultivation of poetry was a casual and perfunctory service, of which the reward was a style rugged and graceless enough, but natural, and with all its dryness, not incapable of a certain stern pathos. The germs of the INIeistersanger school no doubt existed in the annual performances of Mysteries by the English Gilds, and perhaps nothing in Middle English literature is so like the normal Meistergesang as the occa- sional strophic passages in the Towneley plays. But the germ did not develope ; the culture of poetry never passed, among the English craftsmen, from an extra- ordinary and ceremonial effort into a systematic occupa- tion. The analogy of the English political ballads to those of Germany is no doubt closer. But, apart from the vastly greater mass of the latter, the fundamental social differences of the two countries are in themselves a ground of contrast. The enormous complexity of German politics, the divisions of states, the open feuds of city, noble, peasant, knight, the predominance in war of personal loyalty and class-feeling over patriotism, make German historic song a genus apart, with an atmosphere, scenery, and motives almost wholly strange to that of England. And, finally, with still less of precise analogy to any Gcistlichcs literary growth yet known in England, was the Si)iritual ■'^'"■"'• Song, as renewed and recreated by Luther, which must be discussed more at large. Reserving for a moment the class last mentioned, German scarcely a stray ballad or two, out of this immense harvest ■''.''"f '", of songs, can be shown to have crossed the sea. J^ouce writing beside the town fountain, over a dish of bacon. (Leroux de Lincy, Chants hisloriqucs, li.). Z YRICS. [chap. was inclined to connect the famous Nut-brown Maid with the equally famous ' ich stund an einem morgan an' translated by Bebel in his Facetiae (' Vulgaris ca?itio^); the resemblance is however as he says only general, and appears to me quite inconclusive. The ' ich stund ' is an ordinary lovers' parting in dialogue, differing from the ox6.m^ry A u bade chiefly in the 'friiulein's' eagerness to fly with her 'knabe': the essence of the Nut-brown Maid'is that the parting is only feigned. A more certain, though less important, instance has I believe never been noticed. The Stationers' Register, under 14 Sep. 1593, gives the mutilated titles of two German ' bookes,' in the following form : [i.] John Wolf. Entred for his Copie under thandes of Master Harwell and Master Woodcoke a booke intituled Warer erhaltenen underlang ten victori, so undter derfurst, &c/ [2.] Thos. Creede. Entred for his Copie under thandes of Master Harwell and Master Woodcoke a descripcon intituled Mar/iastige gluckliche Reittung aufs Crabatcu, von Don Sigder Christen, &c.^ In the margin of (2), where the name of 'John Wolf has been crossed out, is a note stating that * this ballad of the overthrowe of the Turke ' is turned over to Creede, with Wolf's consent. We have then clearly the trace of a German ballad, itself apparently not known ^ About its subject however there is no doubt. In September 1593 'the overthrowe of the Turks' could only refer to the great rout before Siseg the same summer. It ^ I.e., probably ' Warer [Bericht einer] erhaltenen und erlangten victorie, so unter dem furst ' &c. - Warhaftige [? Beschreibung einer gliicklichen] &c. •^ It is not to be found in Liliencron. I.] THE SPIRITUAL SONG. 7 was still fresh in memory when Knolles ^^TOte, and he has described it at length'. Hassan the ' Bassa of Bosna' came with an army of 20,000 men to attack the convent of Siseg in Croatia which was at the same time a fortress. Auersberg, governor of Carolstadt, collected forces from Carinthia, Croatia and Silesia, marched upon Siseg, and, after a momentary check, succeeded in putting the Turks to flight, with a computed loss of 18,000 of their number, as well as rich treasure and arms. 1 turn to consider more specially the Spiritual Song^ Ceistliclu-s The phrase itself happily expresses the close kinship ^" with the ' Song' to which almost every good Hymn bears witness, and the literature of Spiritual Songs, to which Luther gave the most vigorous impulse, reflected almost every feature of the secular lyric. At a national crisis like the Reformation lyric inspiration of a certain order was indeed not difficult to catch, and it is not surprising that even when it takes the form of a mere statement of doctrine, as in the Creeds, the Hymn resembled rather a war-song of the Protestant host than a piece of prescribed ritual. But there was also, as in Catholic times, a syste- matic imitation of the secular song. Not only their rhythms, not only tlicir favourite situations, but even their special phraseology were adopted. There were spiritual Hunting and Drinking songs ■'', spiritual Reutcrs- liedcr, and even si>iritual Aiibadcs, where the Christian soul described its pursuits, its thirsts, its conflicts in tlie ' History 0/ i fie Turks, p. 1020 f. (cd. 1621). 2 Philip Wackernagel, Das dcutsche Kirchmlicd, 5 Bde. IM. in. contains the Hymns of Luther and his followers. Cf. also HofTinann V. Fallcrslehen, Das ^cisll. Lied vor I.iUhcr. •'' The most notorious example is the 'Den liebstcn Inihlcn den ich han,' where the Muskatellcr in the WirthskcUcr is replaced by the Deity on his throne. 8 Z YmCS. [CHAP. world, and its awakening at the call of the Christian watchman'. And where imitation was not carried out to this tasteless extent, the spirit and manner of the Volkslied, in all its flexible variety, influenced unconsciously the writers of the Spiritual Song, and gave it a measure of the same many-sided power. It was thus not a mere subdivision of the lyric literature of Germany, but in some sense a resume of it, which would meet the English fugitive as he turned over the pages of the Lutheran Enchiridion. Coverdalc. Such a fugitive was Miles Coverdale, whose Goostly Psalmes and Spiritual Songs are among the most sincere and laborious monuments to Luther in the English language^. Lutheran To put the result in one word, it may be said that ^y^""j'., Coverdale had a very full knowledge of the first period of -II- Lutheran Hymnology, from 1524 to 1531, and of that period exclusively. It is the period of Luther's complete predominance among Protestant hymn-writers; his round score of Songs and Psalms are still the staple of every collection. Fellow-workers were already abundant, but the field was not yet crowded by the legion of medio- crities who later excited his indignant warning against ' sham masters ^.' The productions of the little Wittenberg ^ Sachs: Eine geistliche Tageweise, 1525 (Tittmann, Ldbuch des 16. y., II. No. 34). Cf. the version of ' Ich stund an einem morgan an' (ib. No. 38). 2 The relation of Coverdale's Hymns to Luther's was first pointed out by Prof. A. Mitchell i^The lVedderl)uriis, Edinb. 1868). My own results were obtained independently and published in the Academy of 31 May, 1884. A letter by Prof. Mitchell appeared in Acad. 28 June, 1884, supplementing them. The following account contains some criticism of his supplemental results. — Wedderburn, as a Scotsman, lay outside my plan. ' Tittmann, Liederbuch, p. 185. r.] NURNBERG AND STRASSBURG. 9 circle formed from the first a modest appendix to his own. Paul Speratus, and Elizabeth Creuziger, the faithful Justus Jonas, and the ex-monk Styffel, figure in the earliest EticJiiridia of Erfurt and Wittenberg. Niirnberg, the stronghold of the Reformation in Franken, almost instantly followed, with Councillor Lazarus Spengler, one of the earliest of Luther's adherents there, and jNIaster Hans Sachs. Somewhat apart, even in hymn-writing, from the main Lutheran movement, stood Strassburg. Few of the Strassburg hymns ever appeared in the Saxon and Bavarian Enchiridia ; yet no city possessed so long a list of noted poets \ The preachers, Capito and Symphorian PoUio (Althiesser), the painter Vogtherr, the musicians, Dachstein and Greitter, the ex-monk Ocler, and Butzer's friends and helpers, Wolfgang IMasculus and Conrad Hubert, were each the author of one or more hymns, of which, however, through the doctrinal isolation of the city, only three appear to have gained a vogue". Beyond this area, tlie early Hymns were relatively few, and dialect interposed a more serious barrier to their rapid diffusion. Switzerland in the south and the vast region of Plattdeutsch in the north, number many names of note, — Ambrose Plaurer at Constanz, Nicolaus Hovesch at Brunswick, Johann Agricola, the early folklorist, at Eislebcn and the dramatist Burkard Waldis at remote Riga; but though often translated and collected at a later time, they contributed almost nothing to the early and classical Erichiridia. The early Lutheran liymnology was thus drawn from a somewhat broad local basis. Each district moreover had certain individualities of manner or of subject; its ' O. Lorcnz u. W. Schercr : Geschichic dcs Elsasscs, S. 1S2 f. ' Dachstein's //« Wasserjliithcn Babylon s, and two of Greilter's. Scherer, u. s. 10 LYRICS. [CHAP. characteristic trait of style, its favourite rhythms and keys of feehng. Each had in some sort a lyric school of its own. Wittenberg was under the immediate influence of the manner of Luther; and Luther's manner bore in the highest degree the stamp of his mind. Whether he re-wrote Catholic hymns, or versified psalms, or found good words for some of the 'good tunes' which 'the devil' had hitherto monopolised, he is always bold, ener- getic, simple, disdainful of mere flowers of language as of mere prettinesses of rhythm, but with bursts of rugged harmony, and often defying the conventions of modern hymn-writing by drastic picturesqueness of phrase '. At Niirnberg, on the other hand, the literary atmo- sphere was coloured not by one dominating personality but by a vigorous popular tradition. Niirnberg was the focus of the Meistergesang, and the Niirnberg hymns are full of its manner and method. The busy production that went on among the craftsmen of the poetic gild entered too largely into the intellectual life of the city to be without influence ; and moreover the most dis- tinguished of Niirnberg hymn-writers was, as has been said, the master of Master Singers Hans Sachs. Sachs and Spengler, as well as Paul Speratus who, though he wrote at Wittenberg, had spent most of his eventful life in Bavaria, all show in various degrees the characteristic effort of the Meistersinger to combine a style full of caprice and surprise in detail with elaborate symmetry ^ In rhythm he had a noticeable fondness for the unsyvimetrical. E.g. the striking five-syllal^led lines which open the Abgesang of Ein fate Burg: ' Der alt base Fciiid, Mit ernst er's jtzt vicint,^ &c., which later versions softened into iambics. In regard to stanza, Luther decidedly favoured those more unsymnietrical forms of it in which the number of lines is not a multiple of the couplet, — seven or nine lines rather than six or eight. He loved too the single unrhymed line at the close. I.] COVERD ALE'S SPIRITUAL SONGS. 1 1 in large masses. The mixture of long and short lines, the internal rhymes, and the complex stanzas, which secured this in a fashion for the secular lyric, are freely adopted in several of the Spiritual Songs of Sachs ; and Speratus, after his stormy and adventurous life, retained sufficient relish for the most recherche virtuosities of the school, to lavish them in ample measure upon his version of the Credo. The Strassburg work, finally, was marked by the influence neither of a commanding master, nor yet with the mannerisms of a school. The most important writers, the only ones whose voice found any echo beyond Alsace, — were musicians, with the musician's love of simple and regular rhythms ; and the rhythms of many of the Strassburg hymns are simple and regular to the verge of insipidity '. The short lines for instance, and the internal rhyme, arc as unfamiliar to them as the less melodious unevennesses of the Wittenberg school. Of the Lutheran hymnology of 1524 — 31, Coverdale's Covcrdak's * Goostly Songs ' is, as has been said, a fair selection. The s°q,1„^^ majority of his originals first appeared in one or other of the Enchiridia of 1524 — 5 ; the latest of them in 153 1 ^ ' E.g. Greitter's aabbccddecffg, aabccbddeffc ; or Dachstein's ababccdecd. * Prof. A. Mitchell, who assigns a comparatively late date to the 'Goostly Songs,' says that they contain an imitation of a hymn which first appeared in 1540. In his own list of the supposed originals, are only two to which he can possibly refer, (i) Coverdale's ' Hymn to the Holy (ihost,' which he assigns, though doubtfully, to a certain : Kin Gesang vulirt Das puren fang tyt hat -•crftirt, &c. ...(15. Mus.). 30 POLEMICAL DIALOGUES. [ciiAi-. body of champions from the two ecclesiastical parties hold a formal discussion; the J\jL/istag\ where the peasants' delegate in the same way pleads their case with the nobles ; and the most interesting of all, Manuel's Barbali\ where a young girl, whom her mother desires to place in a nunnery, convinces herself by pro- longed midnight study of a gospel, bought with her earnings, that the Apostles knew nothing of nunneries, and not only resists her mother's pressure, but holds her ground victoriously against the combined resources of the local clergy. Either the Rychstag or the Barbali might be divided into at least five distinct scenes, covering in the latter case more than a year of time^ A some- what less elaborate example of the same type is the dialogue called Maria'^, certainly among the earliest of the Protestant dialogues. A Pfarrer of Lutheran sym- pathies devotes a sermon to a castigation, under well- chosen figures of speech, of the monks; a 'Monk' in the audience resents his freedom, but an 'Old woman' ^ Rychsztag der Edlen and Pauren bricht und Klag, &c....(B. Mus.). ^ Barbali. Ein Gesprdch. Kurlzwylig wie ein inuoter wolt Dz ir tochtcr in ein kloster so/t...(B. Mus.). Reprinted with notes in Baechthold's admiral>le edition of IManuel. •• To show more clearly how far such dialogues as this approach drama, and how far they fall short of it, I add a brief analysis. Scene I. Barbali and Mother. The latter complains of their want, and urges B. to enter a nunnery. B. begs for a year's grace, that she may have leisure to buy and examine a New Testament. 2. After the year is over, the mother renews her appeal, but B. having found no biblical authority, refuses more firmly than before. 3. Mother consults Ilerr Hiltprand Stulgang, pfarrer zu Bild. He severely bbmes her for suffering B. to look at the N.T. 4. Dispute be- tween B. and .Stulgang. 5. S.'s failing forces are supplemented by a company of allies, who after a long argument are likewise igno- miniously beaten. * Eyn schoner Dialogtis von den vier posten befchwernuss eins jeglichen P/arrcrs...{h. Mus.). II.] THE DIALOGUE IN ENGLAND. 3 I ( Vetula) applauds, and a young nobleman, led by the persuasive conversations of the Pfarrer, warmly takes his side. The Monk appeals to his superiors, but the Pfarrer after examination by the 'Vicarius' is acquitted in triumph, and the Monk dismissed in ignominy. The masterpiece of these semidramatic 'dialogues' is however the Drei lustige Gespreche already mentioned in another connexion ; where Henry of Brunswick comes to take his trial before his old ally Pluto, in an under-world drama, the scenery in which is drawn essentially from the Vergilian Hades, borrowing at certain points, however, a more lurid colouring from the Christian Hell. A crowd of figures pass before us, distinguished with no con- temptible art : the Furies Megaera and Tisiphone, the ferryman Charon, the judges Minos and Rhadamanthus, the would-be merciful Pluto, the implacable and indig- nant 'Genius' who descends from heaven to be the repre- sentative of God and Protestantism; lastly the duke him- self, of stature tall, splendidly habited, eloquent, but of deadly pallor and 'cheeks that droop like a blood-hound's.' The trial is carried out and sentence pronounced with all ceremony, and the duke, who had arrived elate in the confidence that the powers of darkness whom he had served would not desert him in his need, is dragged a- way to his unexpected doom, — a genuine tragic motive handled with at least the elements of tragic power. No such epoch of jjrolific and feverish production The Dia- marks the annals of Dialogue in England. It was not p„.ria,u, here the chosen vehicle for half a decade of .some of the fiercest class and sect hatred and not a little of the most drastic satire known to history. Good and even brilliant examples are certainly scattered through the literature of the century, but ihcy occur at intervals, in isolation, and clearly for the most i)ari owl- their pcculi- ^-> POLEMICAL DIALOGUES. [chap. J arities of form at least as niuch to deliberate or even arbitrary choice, as to the contagion of any literary vogue. They present indeed a variety almost beyond classification. They range from the Ciceronian type, in which the form of dialogue is merely a device to facilitate monologue, a group which includes, for instance, both the Utopia and the Toxopliilus^ — to little dramas alive with many-sided character and picturesque scenery, like the masterly Dialogue oi William BuUen". Prescriptions of health, spiritual as well as physical, were still con- veyed by the time-honoured method of cjuestion and answerl John Heywood still represented for England, as Hans Sachs did for mediaeval Germany, the mediaeval disputation of abstractions ^ though, if it is rightly as- signed to him, he also produced a more characteristic piece of genuine human conversation in the Gentylnes ' Though it contains much serious debate, W. Starkey's elaljo- rate dialogue between Cardinal Pole and Lupset, Professor of Law at Oxford (ed. Herrtage and Cowper, E. E. T. S.), belongs to this type. It is a qtiacstio rather than a debate, a formal inquiry into the con- ditions of a sound polity. ' A distinguished namesake and descendant of his to whose learn- ing and critical acuteness the dramatists of the century already owe not a little, has recently undertaken an edition of this chcf-iTa'uvrc of one who, without serious error, might be classed among them. ^ \V. Hullen, e.g., also wrote Dialogues on Physic. ■• Dinlosut of Wit and Folly. This mediaeval genre lingered throughout the greater part of the century both in England and Germany, especially in the ballad form. Cf. Thynne's 'Disputation between Pride and Lowliness,' and a number of lost ballads recorded in the Stationers' Register: 'Dialogue between Age and Youth,' 'God and Man' (ij68). 'Death and Youth' (1563). One of the favourite Volkslieder of the century in Germany was the Debate of the Buchsbaum und Fclhin;^cr. In Shakspere, L. L. L. v. 1, it will l>e remembered, the 'owl and cuckoo' still 'represent summer and winter.' Milton's Allegro and Penseroso may be regarded as the apotheosis of these contrasti. II.] HOY, BARLOW, TYNDALE. 33 and Nobility, where a Merchant, a Knight and a Plowman dispute 'Who is a very gentleman?' And finally there is, as in Germany, the polemical dialogue proper, ranging from the tedious and undramatic discourses of Ochino's 'tragedy',' to the impassioned and eloquent debate of Spenser's Eudoxus and Irenaeus, the stirring rhymes of Roy and Barlow's Rede me afid be not wroth, and of John Bon, and the vigorous prose of William Turner's Examination of the Mass'. It is a portion of this last class that I propose to examine somewhat more closely. The inquiry is practically confined to two comparatively short periods: the first outbreak of English Protestant- ism under Henry, and its brief triumph under Edward. The storm of Protestant dialogues which had swept Roy, over Germany was perceptibly waning when the begin- -r''^'"'?"/ nings of the English Reformation brought a new kingdom within its range. Tyndale landed at Hamburg in 1524; William Roy and Jerome Barlow, formerly Franciscans at Greenwich, made their escape up the Rhine, the one ' 'A tragedye or dialogc of the unjust usurped primacie of llie bishop of Rome. Dedicated to Edw. VI.' More ceieljratcd are the 'thirty dialogues' written after he left England, the 21st of which, on polygamy, caused his expulsion from Zurich, 1563. He also translated a German dialogue, 'Gesprech urg, l)y Hans Luft, 1530. ^ This was translated into German by Sebastian Franck : Klag- brieff dir armcn diirjtigcn... wider die reichcn geystlichcn hdller... 1529 (B.M.). * Dialoge, &c. ed. Arber, p. 139. 46 POLEMICAL DIALOGUES. [chap. Such a dialogue was peculiarly English, in another sense than that it dealt wholly with English affairs. The fundamental situation would hardly have seemed plau- sible elsewhere. To represent peasant and knight fraternising over their common misfortunes, would pro- bably have occurred to no German pasquillist whatever. Both classes might indeed be sufficiently hostile to the old ecclesiastical order, but they fought in different camps, they wanted different things, and their common enmity permitted at most such a suspicious and half involuntary alliance as that of Berlichingen. A strong government, like that of Wolsey, might have forced them to make common cause, like the ' Gentleman ' and the 'Husbandman' of the English dialogue; but in its absence their class antipathy occupies as large a space in the picture as the ecclesiastical conflict itself If the dialogue of the Gentleman and the Husbandman fairly represents the state of English society of the time, the truest picture of that of Germany, at least of South Germany, is drawn in the Concilium, already mentioned, of Utz Eckstein '. Catholic The characteristic qualities of the Protestant dialogues Dialogues. ^^^ \i^%x thrown into relief by a glance at the work of their rivals. It is comparatively scanty in amount and mediocre as literature. The Catholic church in England had no extraordinary satirist like Murner in its service. John Heywood, whose satiric powers were perhaps not less, devoted them mostly to exposing her abuses. ' A curious parallel to the English dialogue, with a character- istic difference, apparently occurs in a dialogue of which only the title is accessible to me (Goedeke § 140, no. 40, b.): Mm schoncr Dialogus odcr gesprdch, zwischcn aincin verprenten, vertribnen Edelman und ainem Munch, welicheii am unrechsten geschach, belonging presumably to the time of the Peasants' War. II.] CATHOLIC DIALOGUES. 47 Skelton unfortunately died at the opening of the struggle'. And where the polemical dialogue was used distinctly against the Protestants, it is mostly constructed in a flat, unimaginative manner, without perspective, background, atmosphere, light and shade, and the brio which the defenders of an old cause commonly assume with more difficulty than its young assailants. The best known of Catholic dialogues in the latter part of the century, those of Wingfield, published in his own name by Alan Cope, Wingfiekl, are as tame and lifeless as most of the dialogues pro- ^°P^- duced by either side at that date". The dialogue of William Barlow upon the origin of the Protestant fac- Barlow, tions is of the expository kind, interesting chiefly for its autobiographical statements ^ Nothing indeed in the controversial writings of the time approached two dia- logues of Erasmus, translated into excellent English, Erasmus and issued about 1550 at a Canterbury press, without )J/^!J/' making much stir — the Polyphemus and the De rebus et vocabilibus; the former especially, with its admirable picture of the German Renter, had comparatively little application to English conditions*. One among the Catholics was no doubt capable, if Sir T. he had chosen, of borrowing not perhaps the unsavoury ^^°'^*^- ' It is difficult even to guess the nature of his dialogi dc iiiiagi- natione, mentioned by Bale sub ttom. ^ Alanus Copus : Dialogi sex contra cxpugnatores missac, &c. Antverp, 1566. '* W. Barlow: A dialogue describing the original ground of these Liitheran factions, and many of their abuses. London, 1553, ind edition. Prohaljly written about 1533, the date of his letter of re- cantation to the King (.M. Cotton. Cleop. E. iv.) quoted p. 34 note 2. •* Two dynloges wry t ten in laten by the famous clcrke D. Erasmus of Rolerodame, &c. Cantorbury, John Mychell n. d. (B. Mus.) — A dyaloge between ii. beggars licensed to Copland in 15^7, was pel haps a version of the 7rTwxo^o7^a. 48 POLEMICAL DIALOGUES. [chap. though pungent pen of Murner, but the finer Attic weapon of Erasmus and Hutten. But devoted as he was to the church, and prodigally as he spent his skill and learning in its cause, the huge volume that contains his best arguments for Catholicism could in no way rival one small but golden book in which he had embodied the more than half pagan ins[)iration of his early manhood. For the rest, this volume — a dialogue against Tyndale's book on the Mass — has pleasing qualities; but it belongs essentially to the less vivacious Ciceronian type. Every circumstance which could provoke any scintillation of dramatic liveliness and seduce the attention from the flow of cogent reasons, is carefully refined away. Cicero has familiarised us with urbane colloquies in Roman villas, where friends, united by common culture and the high breeding of the later Republic, carry on a leisurely exchange of views, and intellectual divergence is rarely accentuated by hot debate. More has introduced some- thing of this urbanitas into the uncongenial atmosphere of theological polemics. The scene of the discussion is laid in the pleasant seclusion of the Chelsea library. The opponent is not Tyndale, whose arguments are indeed mostly in view, nor any other ardent Reformer; but a personal friend of More's, who desires if possible to share his faith. Shaken, in spite of himself, by Tyndale's arguments, he only seeks to have his doubts removed. And as if still further to relieve the tension of controversy, the friendly opponent does not himself appear, but is represented by a proxy, a ' Messenger,' who dispassion- ately reports his ol)jections and receives More's replies. The whole of the prolonged argument, in four books, is conveyed in the form of an account of the conversation addressed by More to the friend who had occasioned it'. ' A dyaloge of Syr Tk. More knyghte. Newly oversene by the II.] LATER ENGLISH DIALOGUES. 49 Little of the earliest heretic literature of England survived the fitful persecutions of Henry's later years. Roy's dialogue, all but exterminated by the successful energy of Hermann Rinck, and proscribed in 1531', was in 1542 too well forgotten to be worth proscribing". The king's death was the signal for a flood of Protestant literature, largely in the dialogue form, but scarcely at all related to the earlier English efforts which we have dis- cussed. Though Roy and Barlow however were forgotten beyond recall, the German dialogues, which had in some degree influenced the form of their polemic, remained in immense abundance, making proscription out of the ques- tion. Even if no direct evidence were to be had, we might infer that some of them fell into the hands of the fugi- tives from England whom neither spiritual song nor religious drama wholly escaped. It will be seen, however, that for at least one or two cases such direct evidence is to be had. At the same time I have not hesitated, in what follows, to allow the discussion to range considerably beyond this nucleus of ascertained fact. It seems better, in handling a subject from a somewhat unfamiliar point said Sir T. M., 1530. .Some years later he wrote in the Tower an- other flialoj^ue of essentially the same expository character: 'Comfort against Tribulation,' in three books. Under the figure of the miseries caused in Hungary by the Turks, he speaks of porseculinii in general (translator's preface). His printer John Kastcll put the Turks to a very different use. Some originality belongs to his .-/ newe hoke 0/ Puygaloiy...adyaloi;el)et7oeni: one Coiiiyiigs an Almaynr, a christen man, and one Grangeniyn, a turckc (1530), from the fact that the Turk is made to defend purgatory against the Christian heretic. ' Cf. list of proscribed books at Lambeth, printed by I>r Fumivall, Political religious and love poems: referred to by Arber, ti. s. p. 14. - Arber, u. s. p. 8. H. 4 Dialogues, 1547- 50 POLEMICAL D/ALOGUES. [chap. of view, to give a rather free rein to suggestion and con- jecture, and, without insisting on them, at least to put upon record even sHght analogies which tend to suj)- port it. II. Second In the England of Edward the Mass was still the ^nHHt^tt ^^'^'^'■e about which theological controversy chiefly raged. Henry's peremptory insistance on its observance long after he had accepted other portions of the Reformed ' ])latform ' gave it a somewhat factitious importance. In regard to rejection of the Papal Supremacy Edward could introduce no more thorough reformation than that already accomplished by Henry : in regard to the Mass he was, in Protestant eyes, a real Reformer. It was natural therefore that satire should fasten upon this single point ; and that the subject of the earliest English dialogues, printed by fugitives at a foreign press, and stifled at home, should be the absorbing topic of those which now came out openly under Government favour. The sacrament was dubbed with low nick-names — ' Jack in the bo.x,' 'Jack of Lent,' -Round Robin',' and the old fancy of the ' death and burial of the Mass ' was revived just when it appeared to be an accomplished fact *. Or the imaginary story is carried a stage further back, and the Mass not undergoing ' death and burial,' but being * tried ' with full legal ceremony, and ' con- demned.' Or lastly we find the Mass exposed to the most characteristic of all the methods of German dialogue, that of opposing the ' Peasant to the Priest ' and sapping ' Strype, Craunicr, p. 173. 2 lb. 207. 'A set of rhymes was now (1549) made about the burial of Lent, and publicly sold in Winchester market.' II.] ^.^.V^ SACHS AND SCOLOKER. 5 I a solemn creed, like Langland long before, in the name of the shrewd sense of Hodge. Among the fugitives who returned on Edward's acces- Scoloker. sion was very probably one Anthony Scoloker, of whose life absolutely nothing is known, but whose name appears, as printer or as translator or both, upon a series of theo- logical books of much rarity. All of these were printed either at Ipswich in 1547, or in London in 1548 '. By far the most interesting of all that is associated '• with his name, is the ' Goodly dysputacion between a ^. ^^^^_^ Christen shomaker and a Popysshe Person, with two tion transl. other persones more, done within the famous citie of j ^ -^" ''''^°' Norembourgh... translated out of the Germayne tongue into Englysshe, by Anthony Scoloker. Imprinted at London by Anthony Scoloker. 1548.' This was a version, crude and faulty enough, it is true, of one of those four dialogues which, with more than one spirited hymn, were the fruits of the first Protestant fervour of Hans Sachs". All were produced in the same year, 1524, and dealt with various aspects of the great struggle. In one, for example, he chastises the hypocrisy of the Roman clergy''; in a second he plays the candid friend towards some of the Hotspurs among his own party'. ' They are enumerated in Ames and Ilazlitt, and Dr Grosart has thought it wortli while to reprint the list as a contribution to our knowledge of another Antiiony Scoloker, the author of the Daiphantus {1604). Among them occur several translations from German theology, partly anonymous, partly from Luther ami Zwingli. " Cf. Academy, May 31, 1884, p. 386. ' Eyn gesprech von den Schcinwercken der Gaystlichcn tind ihren geliibdten, damit sy zu verlestcrung des bints Christivermayucn selig zu luerden. Hans Sachs Schuster. (15. Mus.)— Discussion be- tween Hans (Lutherisch), Peter (Evangelisch), and a Monk. * Ayn gesprech aines evangelischen Christen mit nincin Luthe- rischcn datinn der eri^erlick ivamlel etlicher die sich Lutherisch 4—2 52 POLEMICAL DLILOGUES. [chap. The fourth, more directly dogmatic than these, describes a dispute upon the authority and testimony of the Bible, held at Niirnberg, between two informal champions of the rival opinions, — a Canon or C/ior/icrr, and a shoe- maker, — the latter being naturally no other than Hans Sachs himself. The shoemaker is discovered at the Chorherr's door, with a pair of shoes just finished, — a homely situation quite after the genius of these German dialogues. The shoemaker expresses his wonder that the Chorherr is not at church. He makes somewhat forced excuses, — among others that he has been feeding his pet nightingale, now drooping and silent with the approach of winter. ' But I know a shoemaker,' returns Hans with meaning, 'who hath a nightingale that beginneth now first to sing*.' 'Yea, the devill of hell take that shoemaker and his nightingale, he hath railed on the holy Fathers and on us honourable gentlemen like a very pancake-boy^.' nennen angezaigt und hruderlich gesh-afft wird. (B. Mus.) — Dis- cussion between Hans (L.) and Peter (E.), turning in part on the zealous consumption of meat on Fridays by which many ardent Protestants testified to their sincerity. Cf. also Die Unterweisung, &c. (Goed. § 154, 14). The Ein argument der romischen wider das christUch heuflcin, &c. (ib. No. 11), I have not seen. ^ The full title is, Disptitacion zwischcn aincm Chorherreii nnd Schiichmachcr, Darintt Das wort gates und ain recht christUch wtszen verfochten wirtt. Hanns Sachs, MDXXiiij. (Br. Mus.) ' Die IVittenliergisch Nachtigall, die man jdz horet uJierall— Sachs' song of triumph at the Reformation, and probably the most inspired lyric he ever wrote, — appeared in July, 1523. It is re- printed in the Stuttgart IJt. Verein edition of .Sachs. ' Ausgeholhipl wie ein holhipbub. The point of the phrase is untranslateable, since holhippe, a sort of flat, sweet cake, had acquired the secondary sense of schmdhung, — evidently from the habitual behaviour of those who sold them. Grimm, IVB., s.v. Scoloker blunders here. II.] HANS SA CHS AND SCOL OKER. 5 3 This retort makes the way easy to the inevitable theolo- gical discussion. The fundamental question of authority is soon reached. 'You regard not any council, then?' asks the Chorherr of the champion of the Bible. 'Yea, verily; that council which the Apostles held at Jeru- salem.' Chor. And did the Apostles then likewise hold a council ? Sh. Yea, — have ye a Bible ? The Chorherr \)\A'~> his Kochhi bring forth the 'great old book.' Unaccustomed to the order she brings the more frequently desired ' Decretals,' a precious tome anxiously guarded from spot or stain. She is despatched a second time, and at length returns with a dusty and cobwebbed volume, by the aid of which Hans gains an easy victory. The C/wr//i?^r appeals to his man-cook, who, however, exults openly in the shoemaker's triumph, and closes the iain profligatiun helium with a not inferior Biblical artillery of his own. Furious at the betrayal, lie dis- misses the cook at a moment's notice. His maidservant commiserates her master's misfortune, and hopes he will not again incur the risk. ' Oh never fear,' he replies, ' I will take good precautions against him : "the burnt child dreads the fire.'" And he proceeds to forget his dis- comfiture in giving orders for a goodly feast with the Caplan : — ' P'etch me a capon or (7cielve from the market, lay out the dice and the cards, and above all take away the Bible'!' • Scolokcr has taken consideralilc lihcrtits in his Iransl.ilion. He has not merely given the Kocltin a name, Kalhcrinc, and alterefl that of the 'cook' 'Calcfactor' from Ilcinrich to John, hut repeatedly slurred idiomatic and difficult phrases, missed the finer miamcs of wit ami the finer turns of conversation, and 54 POLEMICAL DIALOGUES. [chap. 1. Sachs' work evidently belongs, as already hinted, to Enj^ish tiie niost characteristic type of Protestant dialogue, — that of the same '" which the humble layman, the peasant or artisan — ex- school. ^ pressed his sense of intellectual as well as moral su- and Mast periority to the clerical representations of scholasticism. Parson. Sachs' shoemaker refutes the precentor, as Utz Rychsner's weaver refutes the parson, and both weaver and shoe- maker are close portraits of the weaving or the shoe- making author. Among the original EngHsh dialogues of this time is at least one which belongs essentially to the same type'. Of its origin nothing is known, except that it was printed, in 1548, by Copland. A peasant, it will be remembered, ventures, under a mask of rustic ttpwveta, to question his priest upon the strange mystery of 'Corpsycursty.' The priest has found John working betimes in his field', and opens the debate with a com- committed at least two gross blunders. The second of these is amusing, and suggests that Scoloker was ignorant of a very familiar proverb. In the Chorherr''s reply to his maid's warn- ing immediately after the dismissal of the Calcfactor — ('Ich will mich nun wol vor im hyettenn, verprents kiind furcht fewer'), he ingeniously detects a reference to the fire just abandoned by the banished cook, and translates, ' I shall kepe me from him well enough, thou wicked and excommunicate knave, take heed of thy fire!" ■ 'John Bon and Mast Parson;' ed. Ilazlitt, Remains of Early English Poetry. * Cf. a similar situation in the dialogue of Veltin Sendler: Ei7i schbn Frag von einem Jiawrcn, luie er einen Pfaffen gefragt hab, ettlicher Artickel halben (B. Mus.). — The Baiur is found working in his garden, — 'Es stdnd ein Bawr in seincm garten In sawrem Schwayss thet er des abends warten.' lie is much less acute than John Bon, and puts his questions only at the instigation of a passing pilgrim. His initiation into Reform is however as complete as it is rapid. 'Are ye the Anti- II.] 'JOHN BON' AND 'ROBIN conscience: 55 pliment on his industry. The talk is easily led to the Corpus Christi procession, then the greatest English festival, and John, professing bovine ignorance of the nature of the sacrament ('Is Corpus cursty a man or a woman ?'), contrives to entangle his opponent in self-con- tradiction and heresy'. If the 'John Bon' is constructed on the' Peasant 3- versus Parson ' type of German dialogue, a second dia- ^_^obin^ logue displays that of the 'son versus the father.' This is the so-called interlude of Robin Conscience'^; where the moral and Protestant son, Robin, refutes the worldly aims of his father Covetousness, his mother New-guise, and his sister Proud-Beauty. It is true that the names of the characters show that the piece is not to be entirely separated from the Moralities among which Collier includes it. But the Moralities hardlv ever arrantre their personnel so undisguisedly upon the t\^pe of the family as is here done. Virtues and vices confront one another, the hero plays his part among them, and here and there a casual hint of relationship is doubtless dropped; but as a rule the relations of the persons are simply those of the ideas they personify : they are allies or they are opponents, but rarely fathers, mothers, sisters or brothers. And the ' Robin Conscience ' family, vividly drawn as it i.s, belongs to the type which must be called normal in the German polemical dialogues, so far as they deal with family relations at all. As in the Jirudcrlichc IVarnung an Matins Zell already mentioned, and in a Christ, or do we wait for another?' is his first greeting to his priest. The priest on his part is drawn with a transparent hatred wliich frustrates its own purpose and produces a gross caricature instead of the lively portrait of '.Mast Parson.' ' Knowst thou not,' lie asks for example, 'that in all things we live and teach contrary to Christ?' ' Extracts in Collier, Annals of the Stagt, Vol. ii. 56 POLEMICAL DIALOGUES. [ciiai>. rather later dialogue (Goedeke, § 140, No. 51) von der Bcycht\ the militant energy, the quick conscience of the Reformation are here embodied in the son, while the father, as in those cases, represents with more or less energy the older faith. In the Barbali we have already seen an instance in which mother and daughter are similarly related. The 'lira- The dialogues so far described all belong to the ^ddmte' in simplest type — the discussion between two persons which England. Wiclif apparently understood by the terms when he strangely called his own discussion between three the Tria/ogiu: In Germany as we have seen the Dialogue had long ago attained far greater elaboration of struc- ture. It had become, as in X\\q Jiyc/istag and the Barbali, a little drama of debate, with changes of scene and time, and a liberal diversity of speakers. In England this developed type of the polemical dialogue was hitherto unknown. Soon after the accession of Edward, however, appeared two remarkable examples of it; and it is signiti- cant that the earlier of the two is attached to the name ' Ein hiibscher Dialogus oder gesprech vierer personcn, ah iinter Vater, Sitn, Tochter und eynem Pfaffen, von der Beycht, wie unnd •wem vuin brychtcn W... Jacob V. (Vielfeld), 1526. A brief ac- count of this dialogue, of which a probably unique copy exists at Berlin, I owe to the great kindness of the librarian of the Konigliche Bibliolhek, Dr von Gebhardt, whose courtesies in this kind I am far from being the first to enjoy. The interesting analogy suggested by the title to the Robin Conscience scarcely goes beyond the relation of father and son which I have indicated. Instead of being opposed to the son, the daughter shares his disinclination to confess, — though from a different motive, viz. 'weil sie letzlhin dabei eine schlimme lirfahrung gemacht.' She then disappears from the scene. The son finally goes at his father's request ; but 'confesses' in such sort that the priest at first rejects him as 'Marlinisch,' but is at length convinced of the justice of his view, 'und zuletzt sind sie cin Ilerz und eine Seele.' II.] [/S£S OF THE TRIAL-MOTIVE IN DIALOGUE. S7 of an eminent physician, long an exile in Germany, familiar with its language, and of all the English refugees perhaps the best acquainted with its highways and by- ways, — Dr ^^'illiam Turner. The particular form which the dialogue took in his hands, that of a Trial at bar, or ' Examination,' was itself quite familiar there. The ' trial-motive ' lent itself to two distinct contro- U^'<:^ of the versial purposes, neither of which was quite satisfied by the motive in simple dialogue. One wlio desired to mediate between Dialogue. extreme views, or to discriminate between better and worse arguments, or in general to represent any unpopular tertium quid, could scarcely put his case adequately in a colloquy of two persons. He demanded a more compli- cated type of discussion, with more speakers, finer grada- • tions of opinion, clearlier marked phases of development; — with room for a Glaucon and an Adeimantus as well as for a Thrasymachus. Between the violent partisans on either side appeared the moderates, reasoning with them alternately, choosing and distinguishing, confirming and rejecting; and it was a natural and effective de- velopment to represent the advocate of moderation as at the same time the mediating judge, to whom the rival parties appealed or before whom they were summoned. On tile other liand, tlie same motive was evidently equally available for a more ordinary kind of contro- versialist. If it lent itself readily to the j^urposes of the mediator, it also provided a telling framework for tlie most unmeasured castigation. Instead of being merely refuted in a private argument, and slinking away with no witness of his iiumiliation but the reader, the enemy was a prisoner at the bar, forced to listen to his own igno- niinious condemnation and sentence, and finally dragged off to tortures in which theological vindictiveness could revel without check. The mere introduction of a Jud^e, 58 POLEMICAL DIALOGUES. [chap. listening with an air of impartiality to both sides of the case before he pronounced upon them, was an appre- ciable element in the general rhetorical effect; to the sympathetic reader his most unqualified verdict insen- sibly appealed with a certain authority ; Hke a Greek chorus, he seemed the impersonation of judicial reason confirming the assertions of the advocate, a Philip of evident sobriety setting his seal to the judgments of a Philip obviously ardent and possibly biassed. Trial- Both causes tended to keep the 'trial-motive' in tlie ttwine m j-gp^^tory of the German writers of polemical dialogue. Suggestions of it lay doubtless near at hand. The purely literary disputation had continually exhibited it in the germ : the Owl and Nightingale choose an arbitrator, Pierre de la Broche and Fortune debate before Reason, in the Ackermann aus Bochtncn God is called in to de- cide between the Widower and Death '. On the mediaeval stage too it was so familiar, that the procedure of the law-court ranks with the Easter liturgy of the Church among the idces meres of the modern drama. Among contemporary German dramatists also the taste for rhetorical disputation had already found vent in numerous ' trial ' scenes \ the Fastnachtspiele were particularly fond of this solution for domestic difficulties, and numerous versions of the Susanna story were making one of tlie most striking trial scenes in literature familiar in every great city of the land. It had thus been no striking innovation when Utz Eckstein applied this method to the purely polemical dialogue and gave his notable attempt already briefly mentioned, to pacify the exas- perated peasants, the form of a debate before a judge. The delegate of the peasants ' Hans Eigennutz ' pleads their cause before the Stadtgericht of Fridberg ; the nobles ' Scherer, Gesch. d. deutsch. Litt. 26S. ii.l GEORG WITZEL. 59 reply; when both parties have been heard, the burger- meister Herr Salomon, and the other Herren des Gerichts take counsel together, and their sentence, to the effect that 'man soil nicht schmehen obrigkeit,' is read by Tohann Scheidmann, the Town Clerk'. A mediator Witzel : who found his task even more thankless than Eckstein's, -^'-^'"S'- resorted to the same method a dozen years later. The three books of dialogues" of Georg \\'itzel are an elaborate effort to restore the shattered unity of the church on the basis of mutual concession ^ There is no attempt as in the Rychstag to simulate an actual trial ; the debate is a true colloquy held in the garden of one of the disputants, whose wife is visible in the background ; the essential feature is that the honours of the discussion do not belong to the advocates of either side, — to the learned Catholic Ausonius, to the ignorant but self-assured Lutheran citizen Teuto, the host, or to the learned but equally self-assured Lu- theran preacher, Core, — but to ' the judge ' Palemon, and his confederate Orthodox, — the latter the principal advocate of the media 7'ia, the former the mouthpiece of ' A'yc/isztng dcr Edlcn nnd Paiircn hricht itnd A'lag zEriedbcrg gehandelt aiijf dem Kychiziag. Utz Eckstein. 1526. (B. Mus.) * Dialogorum libri trcs. Drey Gesprdchbiichkin von dcr Re- ligion Sachcii in itzigem fahrlichen Zwiespall auffs kiirtzest gefcrttget. Leipzig, 1539. (Ij. Mus.) •* Witzel (1 50 1 — 1573) deserves to be remembered as one of tliose wlio undertooi< to lead the forlorn hope of conciliation in a day of unexampled sectarian fury. .Such an attitude was not easy to preserve. Already in this dialogue he leans perceplii)ly to the Catholic side, — his satire upon Teuto, 'cin parteischer grossoniodo' who 'redet visirlich ding wie solchc ])flugen die sich's am wcnigstcn verstehen,' and even on Core, is bitter in the extreme. He ulti- mately became a Catholic and the compiler of a well-known Catholic song- book. Co POLEMICAL DIALOGUES. [chap. Lycaou- the author's authoritative verdict in its favour. It was -aprcc/u: reserved however for the unmeasured partisan to use tlic trial-motive witli a picturesque elaboration to which neither Eckstein nor Witzel made any pretence. I have already briefly noticed the Lycaon-gespreche, in which the ruin of Henry of Brunswick is celebrated, somewhat pre- maturely, by his trial in the infernal court of Pluto. The only aim is here the humiliation of the prisoner, and every detail is made to enhance it. Of serious debate there is naturally none ; and the whole weight is thrown upon the final catastrophe, the desperate intrigues of his infernal allies to save him, the indignant charge of the divinely sent judge to the doubtfully affected jury, the condemnation, and the portentous sentence in which Rhadamanthus exhausts the combined resources of the Das Spiel Greek and the Christian Inferno. Or, finally, — and here ^F^nacht ^^^ ^'^^ brought very close to the work of Turner, — in- stead of a real culprit, and an imaginary and poetic court, we have an allegorical figure, a popular personi- fication, hustled by the Serjeants and advocates of every day. A remarkable Fastnachtspiel', for instance, repre- sents the trial of die Fasnaclit, the genius of Carneval. The precursor appears with a warrant to arrest her, and promises the bystanders, in spite of her defiant re- sistance, that she shall be tried if any will accuse her, — 'that she may answer for her yearly plundering of all Christian folk.' The trial comes on ; the advocates of the nobles, the citizens, the craftsmen, the peasants, the women, successively assail her, but she defends herself boldly, claims the merit of the Lenten fasting whicli her ' Keller, Fastnachtspielc No. 51. Though strictly speaking a drama, the ' Spiel von der Fasnacht ' approaches so closely the method of the polemical drama of debate that I mention it here. The two classes merge in one another. II.] IF. TURNER. 6 1 revels usher in, and is triumphantly acquitted by the sympathetic judge. In the years when Witzel's dialogues were still fresh, W.Turner, and when the struggle with Lycaon was still agitating the whole North from Hesse to Saxony, Dr William Turner was probably beginning his long but laborious and fruit- ful German exile. A Northumberland man', he had gone to Cambridge, perhaps before 1530, and there be- came an ardent disciple of Latimer'. He appears to have lived there till towards 1540, when the new policy of the King made his position impossible. After a period of preaching in the English provinces he crossed the sea, took his degree at Padua, and then passed into Germany^ Here his versatile activity was divided be- tween science and theological polemics. He travelled far and wide in search of rare herbs, and though for the most part living at various points in the Rhine valley, — Kbln, Bonn, Strassburg, Basel, — few parts of either Upper or Lower Germany can have been unfamiliar to him. At the same time however he entered with great gusto into the theological war. He made it his work to ' Cf. Hodgson, History of Northumberland. Neither he nor Cooper (Ath. Cantab.) give a perfectly intelligible account of Turner's life. I have attempted at one or two points to clear it up. 2 Cf. his The Preservative or Triacle against the Poyson of Peiagit/s &c.hon(\()n 1551; dedicated to Latimer witli these, among other worfls: ' About twenty years ago ye toke great payncs to ]iut men from their evyl works,' and 'we that were your disciples had to do in Cambridge, after your departing from us, with them that defended praying unto Saintes;' &c. (quoted from the IJodlei.Tn copy, by Hodgson, u. s.). ** The chief ground for supposing that his flight took place in or soon after 1540 is the statement of his friend Gessner, 1.^55, that Turner visited him fifteen years previously. He was in any case at Basel in 154.^. 62 POLEMICAL DIALOGUES. \c\\k\'. expose the Catholic tendencies of the English bishops, representing them with more prudence than accuracy as acts of rebellion against the royal reformer who had lately enacted the Six Articles. The Hunting of tJic Fox^ {i.e. the discovery of the hidden Romanist in the church) appeared at Basel in 1543, and so far impressed Gardiner that he wrote a reply^ of which we can judge to some extent by Turner's rejoinder^ where the ' Rescuer ' (Gardiner) who had intervened in the Fox's favour, is in his turn confronted by ' the Hunter.' Their alternate objection and reply constitute this in a certain sense a dialogue, but it is of the stiffest mediaeval pattern ; the whole suggests that he was using the dialogue form for the first time, with little consciousness of its capacities. A year or two later he returned to the charge in the Hunt if! g of the Wolf*, a work of greatly increased skill. The 'Hunter' is now joined by a 'Foster'; and both, unlike the somewhat abstract figures of the Rescuing, are ' The Hunthig of the Roman Fox, &c. By W. Wia£;lUon. Basil, 1543. (B. Mus.) This is not a dialogue. 2 Contra Turneri vulpcvi. Bale, Catalogtis SiC. 1557, 5;//' «estern, &c. (B. Mus.). (Goedeke, § 140, No. 57.) II.] DIALOGUES UNDER MARY. 6/ This I assume to be that ' dialogus duarum sororum " which is stated by Bale to have been translated, among other works, by Walter Lynne, ' e Germanico sermone in Anglicam linguam^' It is best described as a practi- cal application of the Pauline doctrine of married life. Justina, the godly widow, exhorts her froward sister to live peaceably with her husband, and finally departs, leaving behind her 'as a New- Year's gift,' 'the Gospel and saving Christian doctrine of Paul.' The whole has scarcely more literary significance than that of an edifying treatise in a slightly picturesque form. For our present purpose the period which followed Dialogues the death of Edward may be briefly dismissed. Mary's ^"^^''^^ reign was not favourable to an abundant harvest of so peculiarly Protestant a growth, and the few examples which remain, printed for the most part abroad, belong to an ordinary type. They are interesting however as contemporary pictures of England. Michael Wodde's Dialogue, written at Rouen in Feb. 1554, contains a lively portrait of one who had been in the opposition under Edward, returning with alacrity to the older faith in which he was bred, or as the Protestant author puts it, to the 'blind superstitions' in which he was 'noseled"'; ' Jllustr. Vir. Catalogiis, crcface to the RcMles) ; but less skilful writers found cogent reasons for a different choice. 72 THE LATIN DRAMA. [chap. Latin drama and the still vigorous mediaeval Myste- ries ; borrowing its technique in part from both. Hence the familiar intercourse which set in between all branches of the drama in Germany and which is so hard to parallel elsewhere. Their stock of subjects was in the main the same, the same men frequently wrote in both tongues, their plays were translated backwards and forwards. Burgher and scholar sat as it were at the same banquet, and were served as far as might be with the same dishes. The Rathhaus, the school-hall, the Miinsterplatz, or the market-place was the scene of both ; the Latin Susafina of Sixt Pjirck was acted in a public garden of Augsburg, the public Bru7inen serving for the bath'; while the whole populace of Strassburg Hocked into the school- court to witness the Latin Saul. Sometimes a Latin performance before the school authorities, was imme- diately followed by one in German before the assembled Rath in the Rathhaus, or in the open air in order that, as w'as said, bcid gdert nnd ungelert Burger, Bawr, tind a lie man den profedtun ivachs und zunemme?i der Schulen sehen und erfaren^. At Magdeburg such a double per- formance was prescribed in the school-statutes, and took place every year'; at Solothurn we hear of the Acolastus being twice acted in an open place, first in Latin then in German \ Frequently the comic scenes intended for the groundlings were given in their idiom''; there are even records of a performance of Frischlin's F/iasma where ^ Cf. the Epistle prefixed to the first edition. 2 Baumjjarlen, Jiiditium .^olomonis, i^di, quoted by Goedeke, Grundr. p. 306. 2 Cf. Goedeke, p. 306. * Ilolstcin, Die Dranien voni vcrlorcnm SoJut, p. 43. 5 A. Jundt, Die dramatischen Aiiffiihrungen im Gymnasium zu Strassburg (Einleitimg). III.] SCHOOL PERFORMANCES. 73 each speaker after delivering his Latin speech proceeded to render it in German'. And where the performances were wholly separate, and the German play, as was often the case, was acted by an 'honourable company of citizens,' often with the Burgermeister at their head, we hear of amicable loans of stage apparatus from the school proper- ties"; while, on the other hand, the Rath not unfrequently contributed to the often considerable cost of the school- plays*, and at Strassburg finally gave them an appointed income from the municipal budget. The school-drama had after all been warmly and emphatically prescribed by the founders of Protestantism ; it played a recognised part in forming good citizens, and if the good citizen who was already formed found its language no longer easy, he still patronised it as a bulwark of morals and manners \ Under such conditions, the Latin drama could hardly aspire to the insipid perfections of academic art. It was barbarous, — as, in Ciceronian eyes, Erasmus' Latin was barbarous, — because it boldly laid hold of modern life, and wrote for modern, if not altogether for unlearned eyes and cars. It was not for nothing that it grew up in the atmosphere of great and almost republican cities, and that Augsburg, Strassburg, Basel, Magdeburg, were the theatre of a production to which Bristol and Norwich were wholly, and even London almost wholly, strange. But ' Ilase, D. _qcisll. Sc/iauspicl, \ 14, cit. Jundt, u. s. ' The Jesuits e.g: are said to have lent their burning lull to the Burgerschaft of .Speyr. Gocdckc, § 149. ' At Rhcinfcldcn, in 1^)02, at a performance of llie Prodigal Son, the Rath presented the school wilh 12 gulden ami (he calf. Ilolstein, ;/. s. * Sixt Hirck's dedication f)f his Latin .Susaiinu lo the senate of Augsburg breathes a peculiarly lively sense of the bond between the city and the school-drama. 74 THE LATIN DRAMA. [chap. it had great and positive merits too, for which no 'product of the circumstances' theory can altogether account. In England it enlisted barely one or two secondary names in its service', — a Grimald, a Radcliff, an Udall ; in Germany the best dramatists of the century wrote wholly in Latin. The best dramatic work done in Germany before Lessing was done in Latin, says the mostcompetent of living men to pronounce*. The vigour and versatility of Macropedius, the Aristophanic satire of Frischlin, the severity and reserve of Reuchlin, the real pathos and passion which glow through the too ornate periods of Briilow, entitle them to a place in the most superficial view of modern European drama. A short history of this in England somewhat neglect- ed branch of letters will best introduce what I shall after- wards have to say in more detail about its various points of contact with our own literature. Short History OF THE Latin Drama IN Ger- many. I. The Hti- iitanists. Nothing perhaps so well illustrates the relative slowness with which the technique of ancient literature, in comparison with its style and phraseology won ap- preciation north of the Alps, as the heterogeneous and even bizarre collection of dramas produced by the early German Humanists. Several of the most conspicuous masterpieces of German Humanists certainly approach antiquity much more nearly by their style than by conception or structure ; the Encomiuin Moriae, the ^ I do not reckon Cowley, whose Natifragium Joculare is certainly one of the most brilliant of English Latin comedies but falls, like the I^qnoravms, outside our period. - W. Scherer, Gesch. dcs Elsasses, 300. III.] HUMANIST DRAMAS. 75 Laus Veneris, for instance, are evidently built upon purely mediaeval motives. But the majority of their dramas betray a relation to the classical theatre at most by their respectable Latin. In 1470 was performed at Heidelberg the first drama produced by Humanism out of Italy,— the Stylpho of Wimpheling; some sixty years later, the publication of Gnaphaeus' Acolastus at length struck a fruitful vein and virtually originated the characteristic German school of Latin drama. These sixty years — three-quarters of which were the very hey- day of German Humanism — were scarcely more than a period of desultory experiment in the history of this essentially Humanist form of art. At least four types of drama were put forth, — not, it is true, always with the same intention or with the same seriousness. The ' • Pageants : Ludus Dianae exhibited by Conrad Celtes before Max- Celtes : imilian at Linz in 1501, and the Spectaculum ^^^^'ll"^], Jacob Locher acted at Ingolstadt tlie following Feb- i^oi. ruary, were scarcely more than pageants, allied on the Locher : one hand to the mediaeval ludi, on the other to the /,f,],)^ ,'.q. Court Masques, — pageants to the last in their loose structure and their indispensable splendour. In Celtes there is almost no pretence of action. Diana and her nymphs, Sylvanus and his Fauns, Bacchus, and his Bacchides come forward successively in tluee so-called acts ; but their sole business is to express in flowing hexameters the favour naturally felt by the deities of hunting, love and wine for the young heir of the Roman empire. Locher's Spectaculum^ is dramatic in much the same sense as Scott's ' gathering of the Clans.' 'J'he first 'act' is as purely epic as a Euripidean prologue, a long narra- J Spectaculum in quo rcgcs advcrsum 7'hurcum consilium iticun/, s. 1. 1502. 76 THE LATIN DRAMA. [ciiAi> tive, in hexameters, of Turkish cruelties, followed by a prayer from the chorus, to which the rest of the play is a prolonged response. In the second act the Pope's legate is seen appealing, still in hexameters, to Maxi- milian as so many others had appealed, to march against the enemy of Christendom; and the 'player-king' gives the proposal that ready assent which the real one found no opportunity of executing. The third act is a Council on a grander scale ; the kings of France, Spain, England and Hungary deliver orations, and declare their readiness for war. Lastly, a lyric dialogue between a ' Capitaneus ' and the chief of Rhodes shows that the eastern stronghold of Christendom is as combative as the west, and the fourth act closes with a spirited call to arms — en age rumpe moras liticen, dent classica vastos armorum strepitus, buccina saeva crepat. The fifth act of actual war to which this should have been the prelude Locher withheld, and history repro- duced his aposiopesis. Even where he deals with a genuine dramatic action, as in \hQ De /udicio Faridis^, he can scarcely be said to rise above that elementary type of drama which consists in a series of set speeches, and which was perhaps to be expected in a dramatist who evidently knew his Ovid better than his Terence". * Acted before the ' Achadcmia'' of Ingolstadt, July i, 1502, and printed s. 1. the same year. * Another piece of Locher's however, de sene amatore, is de- scribed as 'angelilich in plautinischer manier' (Goedeke, p. 133): of this, as well as of his earlier Indus de Thurcis I unfortunately can- not speak. — As Locher is chiefly remembered as the translator of the Nar reuse /tiff, it may be worth while recalling the impressive chapter in which, with the same reference to Maximilian, Brandt gives full vent to the Turcophobia of the time, to which many minds far less constitutionally despondent than his own were a prey. III.] SATIRIC DRAMAS. 7/ A somewhat higher dramatic level is reached by a se- i. cond group of Humanist dramas to which Terence contri- Satiric buted scarcely more than he did to the shows and pageants of Humanism. The social antipathies of Humanism ]!„„ : were as little to be paralleled in the narrow domestic Stylpho, world of ancient comedy as its political aspirations. '"^' r. • 1 • • 1 • , . Anon.: Conventional satire against the ignorance and vices Codms. of the Roman clergy, was scarcely more congenial than Rcuchlin ; pictures of crusadingChristendom or mythological eulogies ^^^S"'^' of the last of the knights, to a school of drama which 1507). reflected far more faithfully the political decay of Greece than the still vigorous public life of Rome. The satiric dramas of the German Humanists show in plot and structure very little trace of this influence. Jacob Wim- pheling's Stylpho^ was produced in 1470 at Heidelberg, where the future coryphaeus of Strassburg Humanism and advocate of the aboriginal Teutschheit of Alsace, was still a student. It is little more than a student's jeu d'esprit, though somewhat akin to the more elaborate and brilliant Return from Parnassus of an unknown Cambridge hand ; but it deals a blow with considerable effect at the degenerate race of 'Roman Germans' who crept into spiritual dignity by menial service at tlie Roman court, one of whom presents himself to llie University chancellor armed with the papal recommen- dation to a curacy, is put through an examination, like the knight's son in the Kdiir/i, and, like him, is dis- missed ingloriously at the close, with the sentence that he is aptior ut porcos qiiam ut homines pascat. ICnually original from the point of view of ancient comedy is ^ Stylpho, s. 1. 1494. — l{y a strange oversight, repeated even in the 'ncu durchgeschene' edition of liis and Lorenz's GcschichU da Elsasses, Schcrer refers to it as toifortiinatcly lost. 78 THE LATIN DRAMA. [chap. the Codnis^ of some anonymous Humanist, where a pedagogue whose Latin was of the school of Villa Dei, finding himself deserted by his pupils for more fashion- able teachers, goes to K51n to learn for himself tlie new way, but falls into the hands of Humanist students, who make game of him as mercilessly as the 'pestiferi poetae' who, a generation later, were the terror of the correspondents of Ortuinus Gratius. Finally, the earliest dramatic effort of Reuchlin, who will demand a fuller notice presently, the Serghis^, was a hit at the relic- mongers. Reuchlin's language, style, and verse, — he writes in a vigorous and flowing senarius, — certainly placed him above both his predecessors ; but his plot, — the dis- covery of a skull, which after being washed and dressed is worshipped as a Christian relic, and finally proves to have belonged to a Mohammedan renegade, — is undra- matic as well as unsavoury. Later Neither of these two classes or types of drama can Pageants: ^^q, said to have made its fortune. Isolated cases cer- H. hchot- ten. tainly occur of htdi which do more naive violence to the primary law of drama than even those of Locher and Celtes ; particularly the so-called ' Imperial Play ' and 'Martial Play' of Hermann Schotten'"', 'Chronicle Histories' of the rudest kind, where the 'divine victories' ' Codrus (ms.). Cf. Schulze, Archiv f. Litieratiirgesch. ii, 328 ff., at present the only accessible account of this drama at first hand. ' Sergius. First printed in 1507, and frequently afterwards. ^ Lttdus Imperatorizis sen Cicsareus, contincns 7tmb7-aticam imaginem horum ietnporum regni Caroli V., illiusqtie divinas victorias, imperii felicetn exitu7n et laudem. — Ludus Martins, de discordia principtnn et riisticoritm Germaniae, A. 1525, Colon. 1527. Hermann Schottenius Ilessus was also the author of a well- known set of Confabidationes for schools, translated later in the century into English, like those of his fellow-dramatist liegendorf. III.] THE CHRISTIAN TERENCE. 79 of Charles, and those, less 'divine' certainly, of his nobles over their peasantry, are fought once more, the com- batants in broad undistinguished masses charging and taking counsel, treating with heralds, &c., all with military energy enough, but with no attempt at the psychological colour without which war is a matter for the circus. The purely satirical drama too had its isolated ex- amples, — above all the savage and obscene attack oiand Simon Lemnius upon Luther and his wife, powerfully ^^^''^"^^ . written in elegiacs, like Locher's Ltidus, — elegiacs in S. Lem- which every couplet becomes an epigram'; — and the ^"p^jg^,^,. three strange, barbaric but fresh and sparkling Tciidenz- lin. stiicke of Nicodemus Frischlin, to which the whole history of the drama offers no precise parallel, — the Prisciaiius Vapiilans'\ i\\t /ulms Rediviviis and the Phasma. Setting aside then such anomalous or eccentric phases 3. of drama as these, there remain, still within the circle of ' ^''^' . purely Humanist activity, two well-marked dramatic Terence: methods, each of which has its representative poet, and Chilianus: which far from occupying, like tlie former, merely a ^'"^"''''''"' curious page in the history of German drama, were nothing less than the cardinal points towards which nearly all its mo.st characteristic work more or less ex- plicitly tended. On the one hand the pious eftbrt of the Nun of Gandersheim to create an immaculate Terence out of biblical and legendary history, was far too con- genial to the religious Humanism of Germany to be wholly neglected; and her newly discovered writings, * The Monachopornoniachia is reprinted in Murr, Ncucs younial II. 85 (1791). Cf. G. E. Lessing, .SV//;-//7c«, Th. Ii. liricf 7. ' A slight resemblance to this jjl.iy may |)(jssil>ly be found, it is true, in the Oxford Bclliim grammaticalc, where Priscianus likewise figures, but where lie 'beats' instead of ' I'eing beaten.' On Frischlin, see below p. 100. 8o THE LATIN DRAMA. [chap. 4- ' Modern l^rcnceJ' Rcuchlin J /lit no, 1498. edited in 1501 by the discoverer Conrad Celtcs, soon found a disciple at one of the centres of religious Hu- manism, the young university of Wittenberg. The Dorothea of Chilianus' ' equcs Hillerstatinus,' produced there in 1507, would have been the chosen companion of the heroic maidens of Hroswitha'^; and, though martyr- doms are scarcely congenial to the modern stage, it can scarcely be .said that a subject was altogether ill chosen which inspired Handel, and one of the most celebrated sacre rapresentationi^ of Florence, as well as the solitary 'religious drama' proper to which any great Elizabethan put his hand. It is written in simple but not unskilful prose, and follows the story with comparative fidelity, and considerable effect. Naturally the daring imagination with which Massinger at once enriched and degraded his subject, is wholly out of the question. It was a stronger hand than Chilianus' however which gave the decisive stimulus to the Latin drama. The Serghis of Reuchlin, withdrawn on grounds of prudence soon after its appearance, was followed a few months later by his epoch-making Henno'^. Its importance lay in two things. It showed how a modern comedy-subject, fresh and dramatic and at the same time perfectly ' Comadia Dorothee passionem dcpingcns. Liptzk. 1507. - The rcsemljlancc is especially close to the Dnlciciiis, where three virgins Agape, Chionia and Hyreiia, after an attempt of the prases to seduce them, suffer martyrdom. Cf. also the Fides Spes et Charitas. The Gallicanits also deals with persecution. •• La raprcscntadonc di S" Dorothea was reprinted very frequently in the i6th century. The authors of The Virgin Martyr may possibly have known it, but it was certainly not their main source. The singular error of 'Sabritius' for Fabricius, for example, (the name of the prefect), has no place there. * Scenica Progymnasmata. Argent. 1498. Cf. L. Geiger, Reuch- lin, S. 89. III.] REUCHLIN'S HENNO. 8 1 healthy', might be effectively made the base of a Latin play; and its well-turned verses made clear that the true medium was neither the epic hexameter of Celtes nor the elegiac of Locher, still less the prose of Wimpheling. Hroswitha and Chilianus, but the dramatic senarius of Terence. The most effective part of the plot is drawn from the famous farce of Pathdin^ then some twenty years old. The (trappier, the astute advocate, and astuter bergicrio.- appear in their familiar parts; a domestic Dromo borrows the shepherd's weapon, and foils both draper and ad- vocate with his impenetrable ^ Ble.' But this central incident is placed in a different setting, which has a good deal of merit of its own. It is one of the weak points of Pathclin that it has two heroes, and that the second, the bergier, is introduced, like a subordinate, without pre- paration, in the middle of the play. Dromo is, on the other hand, from the first the mainspring of the whole action. Sent by his master Henno to purchase cloth of one Danista, with certain gulden (aurei) abstracted from the private hoard of Henno's wife, Elsa, he con- trives to secure both cloth and money, and to cheat at one stroke the draper, his master, and his master's wife. The draper accuses him ; he seeks help from the advocate, and the trial follows with the familiar result. Pathelin and the bergier, the two heroes of the French ' In the prologue to llic Siri^iis Reuchlin had specially insisted on this : 'Non hie crit lasciviae aut lihidiiii Merctriciac aut Iristi scnum curae locus Sed histrionuin cxcrcitus ct scommata.' It need hardly he said that the follower of Hroswitha had made the same pretensions in the jjrologue to the Dorof/tca : ' I'hyllidis hinc absint et I)cmoi>hoonlis amores, Pollutusquc Davus, Pamphilus atquc Crcmcs, Penelope I lyppolilus.' H. 6 82 THE LATIN DRAMA. [chap. farce, are thus combined in Dromo, while the drappier's double role of creditor and master is distributed between Henno and Danista. The new figures of Henno and his wife serve too to repeat the principal motive of a comedy, for which the Cheater Cheated would be a fairly- apt title; Elsa cheats her husband by hoarding her gold; he cheats her by abstracting it ; and both arc cheated by the cheater of the cheating advocate, the arch-cheat Dromo, whose offences are finally condoned in a marriage with his master's daughter, the stolen gulden serving as liis wife's dowry. It is obvious that these changes, im- provements perhaps, in structure, involved one loss for which no technical perfection can console the lover of high comedy. As Dromo is responsible for the sins of Pathclin as well as of the bergier, the advocate's role loses nine-tenths of its humour; the exquisite double- game between tlie drap and the moutons, the feigned tooth-ache, the keen sense of fun with which he works out the situation, necessarily disappear, and a comic creation which may be mentioned without irreverence beside Falstaff after Gadshill, becomes merely the un- scrupulous pleader of every day. The result, then, of Reuchhn's remarkable attempt to turn a modern farce subject into an ancient comedy may be summed up somewhat thus. Certain characters and incidents have a Terentian or Plautine colouring : the wily Dromo, the j)urloining of a buried hoard, the final solution of all difficulties by marriage. Finally, the admirably clear and compact structure, — obtained, it is true, at the sacrifice of a situation which lay wholly beyond the horizon of ancient comedy. The Henno is in so far typical of the whole modern Latin drama of which it occupies one of the most remarkable pages ; it told by high excellences of a low kind, by success in satisfying the more mechanical III.] ITALIAN COMEDIES. Z^ canons of art, by skill of structure, unity, singleness of plot ; but it frequently missed in the search for them the more impalpable perfections which perhaps only a Moliere entirely succeeded in combining with them '. It is possible that the popular drama of Italy may Italian have contributed something to the Hcnno ; and shortly ^^"'"<^"t-^f r ■ , T 1- • n , Comedy in after its appearance another Italian innuence asserted Germany. itself in Germany which demands a moment's notice. Aretino, It told entirely in one direction, — the comedy of vulgar '^^^^ ^^'^' love-intrigue. Three Latin plays by Italians were re- Ugolino. printed or translated in Germany between 1500 and 1520, — the Poliscena of Leonardo Aretino (Cracow 1509), the Dolotechne of Zambertus (Strassb. 151 1), and ' I have intentionally taken no notice in the text of the interest- ing discussion raised by Hermann Grimm {Essays, N. F.), and ably continued by Gelger (Rcuchliit, s. 80 fT.) upon the relation of the lit lino to a German Fastnachtspiel, £>er kliigc Knee lit (Keller, No. 107), which coincides with the drama in substance and in numerous details. Grimm, who first pointed out the resemblance, regards the P'astnachtspiel as the source of the drama, but neither Gocdeke, Keller nor (ieiger, nor, so far as I know, any one else, has accepted his view, though, through the uncertainly of the date of the former, it cannot be disproved. I have only two remarks to ofTcr. I. Whether Keuchiin or the author of the J'astnachtspiel was the first to use the Pathelin ; both probably knew it independently. 1 )romo's magic monosyllable IJ/e is not likely to have been reached from the bergier''s liee through the nietlium of the kncehd, cjuile different ■tveiw ; and on the other hand, the Fastnachtspiel name for the deluded tradesman, Der Diiochtnan, is obviously a translation of drappUr, not of Keuchlin's Danista. 2. Hoth Kcuchlin and the I''iVS/>. agree in giving cig/it aurei (gulden) as the price of the cloth, for the nine francs or six eeus of Pathelin. A more exact comparison of the values of these coins in the 15th century than I can undertake would show whether the Roman aureus (»r \\k gulden belter corresponlitilly ilcsciibcs it as exeniplum Neipublicae recte iiistitiilac ; cf. that of the Zorobabtl: 'in quo typus est repni fcliciler constituli, uiidc mouarchac discaitt' &c. ' Cf. the (Icrlication of the Eiui to his wife: ' Ihinc ludum tihi rcttius quaflrarc O conjiix puto, ciii Deus lieniyne I'rolem multipiicem '^'' = J antma- Miinzer, or Ralph Radchft to Bishop Bale. Totally chius, strange to the imposing civic life amid which Birck grew '^•5^' '"'''■ up, he formed no enduring local attachments, and his career was a series of flights from positions which he successively made untenable. The family and the city have no place in his drama, as tliey liad none in his tur- bulent Ishmaelite life. He condescends to no homely moralising, no practical counsel ; he is an implacable idealist, who has invested his whole moral capital in hatred, and has none left for reconstruction. No gleam of human feeling relieves the iron rigour of his polemic against the 'diabolic rule' of Rome. The positive enthu- siasm of Birck for his ideal republic turns into a fanati- cism of antipathy which only permitted him to imagine vividly what he abhorred. If I5irck resorts to the liihlc for types of ideal citizenship, — Judiths, Susannas, Zoro- babels, — Kirchmayer searches it for types of Antichrist like Judas and Haman, in whom the true Antichrist of Rome may be lashed in efligy; nay, in one lurid drama, of which I shall jiresently have to speak in detail, he attempts, with the aid of the Apocalypse, an unexampled historic picture of the ]japal rule. To the end of its career the l.aiiii drama o{ Inii-i Germany showed traces of the school in which it had '///J'yTiri,. first taken definite shape. Tiie /Jt'c mere to whi( h it ''',"^ C/irh- might be said to owe its very blood and nerve,- and sc/ioo/. which had borne fruit in natures so different as those of i. Reuchlin and Macropcdius, Birck and Kirchmayer, — the ^ ' ^*^'"'' . ,„ . uncus, union of Icrentian style and /(r/i>ii(/itr U) subjects at once ' true,' 'sacred,' and 'virtuous/ — was certainly no 94 THE LATIN DRAMA. [ciiAl-. passing inspiration wliich a new fashion could at once put aside ; and so long as I,atin plays were written, the cast of mind to whicli it appealed continued to emerge. Nay, the whole movement might even be said to culmi- nate in this later time in which its authority was on the whole less exclusive; no one, at any rate, laboured with so single an eye to achieve a 'Christian Terence' neither too pagan for piety, nor too Biblical for classicism, as Cornelius Schonaeus, the rector of Haarlem ; though the supreme honours for consistency of method ought per- haps to be awarded to another Low-German school- master, Burmeister of Luneburg, who in 1623 corrected the impieties of Plautus by a 'sacred' Amphitryo, in which the beguiled Alcmene is replaced by the mother of Christ. Schonaeus was well-known in England, — three at least of his seventeen plays having been reprinted in London almost as soon as they appeared ', although our Latin as well as vernacular drama had now emerged from the phase to which they belonged. He is a cool, sober, but not unskilful writer, handling the well-worn stories of Joseph , Susanna, Judith, with scarcely a touch of the enthusiasm which had once transfigured them in the glow of Reformation politics, but with a shrewd calcula- tion of effect which often gives him the advantage over the men of dithyramb. His Judith is no personification of Christian heroism, triumphing over the hated Turks, like Birck's ; the crowded scenes, the incessant and mul- titudinous movement, by which Birck expressed his political meaning, are quite absent. Yet he at times makes a more dramatic use of his scantier material. The return of Judith, for instance, from the camp, is, in 1 Terentins Christianus, sive cotnoediae ditae (the Toboetis and the yuditha), Terentiano stylo conscriptae . . .qtiibiis accessil Pseudostra- tiotes. London, 1595. III.] CHANGES OF FRONT. 95 Birck, a fine picture of exultant triumph ; but its whole force is in the given situation, — the unlooked-for success, the humiliation of a great captain by a woman. She calls out to the guard at once : Ehem vigil, Oziae mox renuncies ut recipiat me vicuiceni intra moenia, ...Moras abrumpe actutum, ille mo.\ nuncia totam domum Israel per me esse liberam. Tychophylax. lo triumphus, ecquid hoc festivius aut laetius die illuxit? etc.^ The Judith of Schonaeus, on the other hand, remains the self-contained and crafty heroine of Holofernes' banquet. No eager outburst of the good news in the first friendly ear, but a dignified ' economy of truth,' taking nice account of place and person. It is not for the guard to have the first tidings : Mel. Cujus ego vocem hie audio? "jfiid. Cujus arbitrare? Md. Nescio. Jud. Ilcm nescis? Judithae. Mel. Tune hue revcr- teris Ju(Htiia, quam jamduihim interiisse putaveramus?- Jtid. ...scd portam aperi, jam vos beavero. Md. Nihil detrccto, ingrederc. Age, nunc die sodes Juditha, quidnam adferas bonae rci. "Jud. Dicam, scd non nisi convocatis civilatibus optimatibus, ctc.^ But while this original bent always had its represcnta- HI. tives, the Latin drama showed in the latter half of the ^'>cdii"j prcpouaer- century an unmistakeable alteration of front. The theory an.rof of the Christian 'I'erence involved three assunii)tions, two ■''''"''"' . sul'jirls of which were distinctly fatuous, while the lliird was at and /rai^ir trcatniait. 1 Sixt P.irck, Juditha v. 3. * Schonaeus is fond of relieving the njonotony of his scnarii with catalcctic, trochaic and scazonlic verses at very fre(|uenl in- tervals. ' Schonaeus, Juditha v. 5. 96 THE LATIN DRAMA. [chap. least borne. It held that the drama ought to be tnic^, and that it must not represent etnl ; and it drew its ideas of dramatic technique solely from ancient comedy, and that of a single school. The work of writing drama in- evitably weakened the two former prejudices, which had indeed from the first been very f;xirly resisted. Without conflict dramatic action could not be, and the very piety which led the Christian Terences to array their hero in stainless moral beauty, drove tliem to emphasise, nay to exaggerate, the vices of his enemies or tempters, and before they knew it, that pagan pen which had drawn sin with so little reserve, and which they had begun by indignantly throwing to the ground, was working vigor- ously in their own pious hands. The pretension of ' truth ' again, though it stood its ground longer, was certain to have to give way in the end. It carried its dissolvent with it in the other pretension, with which it was habitually coupled, of 'sacredness.' The latter gave a sort of sanction to any story drawn from the Bible ; yet it was evident that many such stories made no pretension to literal truth. Criticism had yet breathed no suspicion against the Pentateuch or the Book of Daniel; but the Parables were in any case 'feigned'". The Biblical recognition of fiction told ; secular stories, even pagan myths, gradually established their claims ; and a fortiori, secular history could not be rejected. The subtly playful creations of Teutonic fancy working on the austere hints of Jewish ^ I cannot forbear reminding the reader of the admirable discussion scene in Bjornson's Fiskejenten, where a party of Norwegian peasant-folk do battle with a travelled man of culture for this apparently still stout and thriving prejudice. * Cf. Macropedius' preface to the Asotiis and Sixt Birck's to his Eva, both of whom try to save their case by a distinction betv/een spiritual and literal ' Veritas.' III.] ' HANS pfriem: 97 thought, were freely admitted ; the delightful myth of ' Eva ' which Birch had introduced with a half defiant apology, was followed, without one, by the equally de- lightful Hansoframea of Hayneccius", — the story of the incorrigible fault-finder who has been forbidden heaven on account of his unruly tongue, but contrives to enter it by an oversight of Peter's wife, silences the stoutest saints by the vigour with which he reminds them of their earthly failings, and when the blameless Innocents, as a last resource, are sent to drive him out, successfully cor- rupts them with sweetmeats. The parable of Dives again was developed — not it is true wholly on Ger- man soil — into the striking Hecastiis, almost the latest play of Macropedius, and the yet more dramatic para- ble of the Prodigal Son became the germ of an un- equivocally modern drama of boyish adventure and license*. And subjects wholly without footing in the Bible were not wanting. Vergil, Livy and Ovid, competed with the old chroniclers and contemporary Flugschrijt. Dido, most international of dramatic heroines, wept the absence of Aeneas in at least three German, as in several Italian, French and English dramas ; the stories of Palinurus, Marcus Curtius, Andromeda, Lucretia, were treated at least once. And in modern history George Caleminus. anticipated Grillparzer in celebrating Rudolph's triuinjjh over Ottocar; while Khodius of Strassburg unconsciously ' Martin Hayneccius, Hansoframea. Lips. 1581. A (Icrmaii version 'Hans I'friem,' immediately followed, and is reprinted in Niemaycr's Ncudruckc. The story is an old Marchen, noticed by Grimm; it resembles the l-aldiau of Lcvilain qui coiii/uit /~ Latin at the Academy from about 1607. Perhaps the continual reference to an audience with whom spectacle counted for much, made him even needlessly careless of other parts of dramatic art. He freely chooses epic subjects which only the highest skill could make fit subjects of drama, such as Moses or Andromeda ; gives them a setting full of various resource and invention, while the really stubborn material, — the onyx au travail rebelle — is left almost in the rough. The sudden appear- ance of the unknown Perseus, for instance, before the doomed Andromeda, was not easily welded into the texture of the action; but IJriilow s|)cnds three acts exclusively over Andromeda without a word of Perseus, until, at the very moment when the fate of Andromeda and the progress of the action imperatively require the intervention of Perseus (iv. i), I'erseus most opjiortunely appears. That doubtless betrays a very infantine notion of dramatic structure. Yet the drama is effective and moving, and sparkles with graphic descrij)lions. (.'as- ' Briilow, like I'rischlin's follower, riayderus, is a 'discovery' of .Schercr's. Cf. his Gesch. des Elsasscs, \>. 196 fT., and AD/i. •Brulow.' 104 THE LATIN DRAMA. [chap. slope's exultanl joy in her own charms, — the fatal v/Spis which brings down the divine anger upon her (ii. i), — O colla moUicella ! frons loquacula ! O lurgidula labella ! lacteolse gense ! &c. ; the account of the desolation wrought in the land by the monster, the terror of the peasants disturbed by it over their cheese and wine (ii. 3, 4); and the spiced meats and grinning boars' heads at the banquet after Andro- meda's recovery (v. 2), are touched with evident gusto '. But none of the higher opportunities of dramatic life are neglected : Cepheus' application to the oracle ^, his wife's eager questions on his return and her amazement to learn that she is herself the offender ; the other ques- tions, still more eager, of the tender, fourteen year old Andromeda; the father's slow and reluctant answer; her terrified prayer for life, passing (somewhat abruptly it is true) into heroic joy that she is to have the glory of saving the state, — in all this there is real and moving power. Less elegant than Buchanan, without the robust geniality ^ As a contrast l)etween the ornate expression of the modern school and the pedestrian, businesslike manner of the old, take two descriptions of sleep. Birck's Judith describes the fatal slumber of Holofernes thus laconically: dum stertit ipse somno profundissimo acinacem stringens gravem, seco caput. This is Andromeda's account of the sleep in which she dreamed of the monster: Postquam sopore nocte grato proxima labore telae fessa preli lumina : et umbra noctis iam polo decesserat frigida, repente visus iSic' - Jn this scene I detect no resemblance to the demeanour of Tiresias. The priest of Ammon gives his information with no tragic reluctance. III.] END OF THE DRAMA. 10$ of Frischlin, Briilow had a command of pathos and pas- sion to which Frischlin hardly made pretence, and which tend somehow to evaporate among the choice phrases of the Scotchman. Scherer, the best entitled of living men to pronounce, declares Briilow to be decidedly the first Oerman dramatist before Lessing, — nay the superior of any English dramatist before Shakspere'; and, with a reserve to the latter statement in favour of Marlowe, I am inclined to assent. With Briilow I close this sketch of the Latin drama Condti- in Germany. Of the promising growths blighted by ^'°"' the Thirty Years' War, none was so remarkable as the school of drama at Strassburg. For some years after the war broke out, production continued here, as elsewhere, seemingly unimpaired; but after 1630 the stream de- cisively ebbs. At the end of four generations, the verna- cular drama reappeared, but in a form totally unrelated to its German past : the Latin drama, which had been the receptacle of the most distinguished talent of the sixteenth century, and which at its close was the single form of it still cultivated with abundant promise, expired finally and without revival. II. A mass of literature so imposing as that just reviewed, Tiik Hi> could scarcely, in any case, have remained unknown ,Ji. j ^^*'j^ among a kindred and neighbour pe(;ple familiar with its drama in language. But England was at the same time bound by the (,,,0— close tie of proselytism ; it was the most promising field i.'^.so). of the blended sjjiritual and literary Renaissance of which Germany was the native soil, and the Christian 'I'erence in some sense the flower. Moreover, the very moment ' Gcsch. d. Els. p. 300. I06 THE LATIN DRAMA. [chap, when the Christian Terence entered decisively upon its characteristic career was that at which this tie of pro- selytism was, as it were, officially recognised by the Reforms of 1 535 — 6. What wonder if those who gathered in the fruit did not wholly neglect the flower, particularly when the flower was commonly credited with the virtues of fruit ? It is certain, at any rate, that soon after the date of the decisive opening of the German school of Latin drama, the English enters upon a corresponding phase for which, so far as we know, nothing in its previous career had prepared it. Reuchlin, and in a sense Chilianus, also, prepared for Macropedius and Gnapheus ; but if Radclift", Grimald and Christoferson had any English predecessor in writing dramas at once classical in form and 'sacred' in subject, he has left no palpable trace behind. Absolutely nothing (it is true) has survived from the earlier period except titles and brief descriptions. But a moment's glance at these will show I think that the burden of proof lies on those who take an opposite view. The earliest certain instance of an original perform- ance in Latin in England, — apart, of course, from those of early mysteries, is the pageant of Luther and his wife which graced the ratification of peace and alliance with France in 1527; 'the most goodliest disguising or interlude,' runs the contemporary report, made in Latin and French, 'whose apparel was of such exceeding riches that it passeth my capacity to expound.' ' Perhaps the presence 1 Cf. the description discovered by Collier [A. of St. ed. 1879, i. 106 f.). Cavendish's account {IVo/sty, i. 136, ed. Singer) clearly refers to 1527, not to 15 14 as Warton thought. Like most of Warton's errors which relate to foreign history, this may still be found in Mr Hazlitt's edition (iv. 5), and has misled several of his successors up to Mr Collier. III.] LONDON, OXFORD AND CAMBRIDGE. lO/ of French ambassadors was the chief motive for the use of Latin; in any case, the performance of a play of Plautus in 1520, when French guests were also present', is, with one exception, the only other early instance of its occurrence at court. Equally meagre and sporadic was the production at the schools and universities. The Master of St Paul's, John Ritwyse, wrote a Dido, per-Ritwyse: formed by the 'children' of his school before Wolsey between 1522 and 1532"; in thus introducing the 'school- drama' Ritw7se doubtless followed a German precedent, but his subject belongs to the 'romantic-classic' school of Latin drama favoured in Italy ^ where the moralised amores of German paedagogy were unknown, — a taste in no way surprising in the pupil and son-in-law of Lily, who.se training was altogether Italian. And lastly, Cam- bridge and Oxford had produced between them, by 1535, three original comedies, — to which we may add a trans- lation of the Aiidria in 1530. Thomas Artour, elected T. Artour: a Fellow of St John's, Cambridge, 15 17-18, aftcr\v\irds ^^//^^J),^!J^^^ charged with heresy and forced to recant, wrote between Miavcos- 1520 and 1532, the year of his (\ca.th,a. A//o/d//s />//o//l>ccn i)rologue as well as heroine; ' Viris mulierum garrilum obstrcf ///a /////'/«] ' is the less intelligible opening of the Dives ct Lazarus. Several other of the openings probably formed parts of verses: the rest belonged to prose dedi- cations. It m.-iy be added that the first of Kadcliffs works cited by Bale, the A'ow/m/j a^ Verbi, potcntissitnontnt rt\i;itni in regno f^rain- niiUieo, Ciditmitosa ct cxitialis pii;^iia, may have stood in sonu- relation which we cannot now define to the elaborate W(jrking out of the same idea in \.hc licllum grantinaticalc mentioned by Harrington in 1 591, in terms which show it to have been well-known (cf. IfalliwcH's Dictionary, s. v.). ' (Joedeke, Grundriss, § 113, No. 30. His English biograjihcrs (including Mr Ha/.litt in the Handbook) appear not lo be aware of this. I have met with no other trace of this jiiece, and describe it as a drama solely on (Joedeke's authority; I'ale's omission of the H. 8 114 THE LATIN DRAMA. [chap. Christ, on the Protomartyr, on Athanasius, — Bale's notice is the only record. Removing in 1547 to Christ Church, he lectured there on Rhetoric, explained Terence, Cicero, Horace, Xcnophon, and threw off at intervals the lyrics afterwards collected in the Miscellany. The Archipro- pheta belongs to the first year of his work at Christ Church. Grimald's was by no means the first attempt to treat the dramatic climax of the career of John the Baptist. The fourteen ' books ' w^hich Bale devoted to the saint, must have done justice in his ferocious fashion to these closing scenes. And within the previous half-dozen years, Jacob Schoepper, presbyter of Dortmund, and George Bu- chanan, had unconsciously illustrated the opposite poles of current dramatic method in dealing with the same story. A moment's glance at these will make Grimald's subsequent work more intelligible, liiichanan: The Baptistes — Buchanan's first work' — is conceived Jiaptistcs, i^ ^-j^g severest style of Senecean tragedy. The story is (/"■• '576). reduced to a bare outline; the dialogue is of the kind in which development of action tends to degenerate into one of thought, and development of thought into one of expression. There is no crowd of figures, no luxuriant display of scenery, no touch of plebeian humour, no attempt to refine upon a few broad and simple contrasts of character. The entire mass of hostile Judaism is summed up in the Pharisee Malchus ; sympathetic or tolerant Judaism in Gamaliel; Herod is the conventional Tyrant^ and John the conventional Justus et tenax, the Com. or Trag. which he usually prefixes to dramas, would point to a different conclusion. ^ jMcus, quamquam abortivtis, iamen primus foetus he says of it in the dedication to James VI. 2 Buchanan seems indeed to have intended the drama to be above all 'a vivid picture of the torments of tyranny' (cf. the Dedication). III.] BUCHANAN AND SCHOEPPER. IIS Prometheus, the stubborn heretic who dies for his opi- nions. Even John's protest against Herod's incestuous marriage is — perhaps from paedagogic motives — kept almost out of sight, and with it disappears the real main- spring of the story — his personal offence to Herodias — and the tragic distinction of his fate. No such criticism can be passed upon the work of J- Schoep- the Dortmund presbyter, the very title of which recalls ^^lj',anuf^ the fearless realism of the popular stage, the crimson, Dccollatus, headless neck and spouting blood of the Church altar- ^][^^^^,^^.^"'" piece. We see the prophet in the wilderness, unmis- 154''. takeably the man of locusts and camel's hair, with a crowd of disciples about him, and a crowd of Jewish magnates suspiciously looking on. Herod approaches, and the king has to hear himself branded with incest to his face before his meanest subjects. He goes home in trouble. The queen succeeds after many efforts in reading the charactery of his sad brows, and henceforward knows only one desire, to which John's arrest is the first step. The banquet and dance, disposed of by Buchanan in a brief and colourless stichomylhia, gives occasion to a very graphic and wholly unclassical scene. Wc see the ser- vants busy about the loaded tables before the guests arrive, we see the bustle of eating and drinking, the passing of dish and cup, the commonplace amenities of the dinner-table, the dance, the light i)romise, and then the blankness of Herod's face as he hears the dictated demand. Incoherent explanations break from him: fur a moment he is tossed between the two allernatives, then hastily gives the order, and sinks back, deadly pale, with In the next century this application was made the most of; a translation appeared in 1642 with the title: 'J'yrannical git anatomised. 8—2 1 l6 THE LATIN DRAMA. [ciiAi'. a muttered ' Pro Jupiter.' The banqueters look at one another, and wonderingly ask what sudden illness has stricken the king: he recovers himself, protests that he is perfectly well, and that it is rather for him to marvel ' quid vobis acciderit, quod non genialiter vivitis, ut pauIo ante, quod baud exporrigitis frontem poculaque cvacuatis.' With all this tragic apparatus, however, we never lose sight of the traditional association of the sacred drama with Terence and Plautus. Not only is the verse throughout written in loose comic measures, but a dis- tinctly comic figure is introduced in Herod's Fool. To the rigid technique of Buchanan such an intrusion would have been intolerable; but Schoepper shared with the majority of Teutonic Humanists the genial opportunism which accepts a good inspiration without nicely scruti- nising its antiquity. Crimald: Far more striking however is the blending of totally troph'eta ^lien schools of drama, in the work which Grimald com- ".^47 pleted the year following the appearance of the Johannes \pr- 1. -4' ;• jjg^oii^jfji^^ Without ever descending to deliberate imi- tation it is stamped in every page with an extreme sensitiveness to the various intellectual influences which then agitated the Oxford air. The regime of Seneca at the English universities was just beginning, as that of Terence was drawing to its close ; and in the drama as in the schools they struggle visibly for the mastery. John himself is drawn upon wholly tragic lines. The savage desert preacher, who only waits for the casual appearance of Herod in his auditory to publicly de- nounce him, becomes a Teiresias, considerately reserving his terrible message for the king's private ear'. On the ' Act II. Sc. 8. III.] GRIMALD'S ' ARCHIPROPHETA: H/ Other hand, versification, and several of the characters place it even less equivocally than Schoepper's in the ranks of the Christian Terence. The Oxford, like the Dortmund, Herod has a Fool — Gelasinus, who girds at the plotting Pharisees, tells bitter home-truths to the queen, and exchanges thrusts of tolerable humour with his fellow-servants, Syrus and Syra, — the latter a charming combination of gaiety and kindliness. But the chief beauty of the drama lies in another feature, for which neither Seneca nor Terence can be held accountable, — • the passionate love — wholly romantic and modern — which unites Herod and Herodias '. Her insatiable hatred of John is not prompted by her injured dignity, but by the threatened ruin of her life with Herod. \Viih genuine tragic art the ominous message of the preacher is immediately preceded by a picture, very tenderly drawn, of their still unclouded happiness (ii. 4). On learning the truth, she gathers all the forces of her woman's nature into a single effort to turn her hus- band's purpose. Herod is half an Oedipus, Iml il was not from the horrified silence of Jocasta that Orimald imagined the Herodias who, after exhausting all argu- ment in vain, overcomes him by her cry of wounded love: tu Hisce manibus (qua' ego lubcns exosculor) His manihus inr|uam nic iani occidilo ! sic ego Animam ])aliar niiiii aufciii cum sanguine. () mi vir, mi vir <)i)tiinc, I'rofari iiliira ncquco I'rae laclirymis fiuenlibus. O mi vir, mi vir oplime ! (.\cl III. Sc. 7.) ' It is impossible nf)l to be reminded of Calderon's far nol)lcr and more moving picture of the love of tlie elder llerod and Mariamne in the El mayor moiistruo lo<. zflo,. llS THE LATIN DRAMA. [chap. In such passages one feels the lyric Grimald of the Miscellany; and the drama is full of similar evidence. Every oj^portunity is seized of substituting lyric mea- sures for the regular scnarics : long choruses divide the acts ; the very prayers of the Baptist and his disciples are lyrical in form ; the banquet scene is so profusely inlaid with songs and music that the essential action is somewhat starved ; and a description of Herodias be- comes, even in the mouth of a serving-man, a glowing sonetto d' a»io7-e\ In si)ite, however, of these vivid reflexions of a purely English poetic culture, Grimald's work belongs distinctly to the German school of Schoepper, — the school of biblical drama moulded, in regard to form, and the mixture of seriousness and humour, upon an- cient comedy, but freely admitting tragic motives, and borrowing the tragic machinery of a chorus between the acts. Whether he actually knew the Johannes Decollahis I M'ill not pronounce. Several external circumstances make it easily conceivable. Martin Gymnicus of Koln, the printer of the only edition of Schoepper, became, two years afterwards, the jjrinter of the only edition of Grimald. The same channel, whatever it was, which brought him in possession of Grimald's MS., may con- versely have brought Grimald in possession of the printed Schoepper. And if a conjecture be permis- sible, I suggest that this channel may well have been I II. 3. cui formae fulgor ac decu' est eiusmodi, ut videatur esse divinum naturae opus, in oculis ipse amor locum elegit sibi, petis, protervis, claris, ludibundulis; ebori' instar candidi denies, labellula suffusa native quodam velut minio, &c. III.] THE 'PAMMACHIUS: II9 John Bale, a friend and old fellow-student of Grimald's', himself certainly acquainted with the Latin drama of Germany, peculiarly interested in the history of the Baptist, and at this very time living in exile in the Low-countries. No one is so likely to have conveyed the single foreign Latin drama (except the Acolastus), of which we have direct evidence in England at so early a date, as its congenial translator"; and so insatiable a collector of literature assuredly did not send the Pain- machius alone. To the Fainiiiachius itself I now turn, and its literary history is remarkable enough to demand a section to itself. III. In 1536, the Convocation of Canterbury, under the 1'- ^"^"^;'"- guidance of Cranmer, accepted those ' Articles of Reli- panuna- gion' in which the P>nglish Reformation was initiated <''"/" -i"'' with a characteristic mixture of boldness and reserve. ■^' Though some cardinal doctrines of the Roman church, such as transubstantiation and confession, were still insisted on, the news of this step was received with tri- umph by German Protestants. One among them, the most trenchant and vehement ijolcuiic of his time, seized the occasion if) dedicate to the archbishop a drama of remarkable (|ualities, and with a remarkable history, to neither of which entire justice has in l'"-ngland as yet been done, — the ia-mons J \i>nma<:/t ins of 'I'homas Kir( hniayer'. ' In the Caltilot^iis he mentions among Grimald's works an Ad amicum Joantiem HaUiim, - !Ic tr.inslatcd the I\imntac/iius before \;^^H. ' Printed 1538, and repeatedly afterwards; also translated several times into CJerman, as well as into Bohemian, and into English. Of this last version nothing is known. /navcr. 1 20 THE LATIN DRAMA. [ciiAi'. Life of Kirchmayer has been already briefly noticed as the cory- '" '" phaeus of the purely Protestant wing of the Latin drama. His stormy and unlovely life is the fitting introduction to the sombre work which was its most remarkable outcome. Born in 151 1, at Straubingen in Wiirtemberg, he studied at Tubingen, and passed thence in 1536 to take the pastorate of Suiza in Thiiringen. Here he produced the Pammachius ; here, four years later, he joined in the literary hue and cry against the Wolf of Brunswick with a drama not less famous, the Fyrgopolitiices, where the duke Henry, a modern Miles Gloriosus, is brought in intriguing with Pope and devil for the burning of his towns of Eimbeck and Nordhausen'. These two powerful strokes on Luther's side did not prevent him from conflict with Luther. In 1536 he had published a commentary on the first Epistle of S. John, in which he maintained the doc- trine of Election in its most violent form. Luther sent him a friendly admonition, with a request that he would keep his heresy to himself Lidignant at this, Kirchmayer despatched a series of propositions to Wittenberg, per- emptorily demanding their acceptance or rejection. Me- lanchthon was disgusted with his vehemence, and refused to reply, — 'non cnini libet cum homine furioso litigare.' The elector however, Johann Friedrich, pleased at the chastisement of his enemy of Brunswick, took notice of ^ A third drama, which immediately preceded the Pyrgopolinices, is interesting as a Protestant handling of the Every-nian motive already several times treated by Catholics. Kirchmayer makes his meaning perfectly clear. In Every Man, the soul of the dying Dives is saved by 'good dedes.' In the Mercator he is happily con- verted in time to the doctrines of S. Paul, and is saved by 'Faith,' while three Catholics, less fortunate than he, suffer the penalty of their obstinate reliance on their 'good works.' The Mcrcator is reprinted in Goldast's Polit. Iinperialia. III.] KIRCHMA YER. 1 2 I the author, and employed him about his person. His bitter and scathing verse, imposing by its sheer ve- hemence, made the parson of Suiza a personage in Protestant Saxony. For a time he succeeded in putting the Wittenbergers themselves in the shade. His com- plaints against Melanchthon had their effect, and when the duke attended the Reichstag at Spcier in 1544, it was Kirchmayer, and not Melanchthon, who accompanied him. ' Probably,' adds Melanchthon, telling the story with some bitterness to a correspondent, 'he thinks a bold fellow like this a better man to pit agamst the moderates.' The same year an inquiry was at length opened into his alleged heresies; he chose not to await the result, ami quietly left vSulza. For the ne.xt four years he lived an unsettled life at Kempten and other places in Wi.irtem- berg. But the disastrous opening of the Smalcald war forced him again to fly, this time beyond the bounds of the empire. In Switzerland he i)assed some months of considerable jjrivalion and suffering, solacing himself meantime' with a work afterwards famous in i'.ngland as the * Boke of Spiritual Husbandry,' — a sort of theological application, in the bi/arre taste of the lime, of Vergil's Georgics, — the ' Naogeorgica ' in fact, as one suspects he intended, of the (Jhrislian Vergil Naogeorg. It owes indeed to Vergil not only the general structure and plan, but a variety of graphic details scattered throughout, and certain touches of a leisurely omatencss which sits somewhat oddly on the vehement pen of Kirchmayer^ ' Cf. the closing lines of llie Aip-icullura Sacra (IJasil, 1550): Ilaec sacris .super agricoli.s, ac arte cokndi, casibus afflielus mullis durisque cancbani. ' It is divided into five liooks. The centr.il lojiic, the sowing and culture of the good seed, by ritual and study of the Mil>le, is 122 THE LATIN DRAMA. [chap. But the Spiritual Husbandry was not his only occu- pation. Since the Ifanmti, seven years before, he had ceased to write drama ; he now returned to it to treat a subject made congenial by his own position, — the career of a prophet neglected and unsuccessful like himself— Jeremiah'. Finally, in 1553, appeared the colossal work on the Papal Realiii^ by which English historians chiefly remember him, an inverted Fasti, as the Agricultura Sacra is a spiritualised Georgics, laying bare with the inexhaustible patience of hatred the whole ceremonial and customary life of the Roman Babylon'. With a head already sprinkled with gray', Kirchmayer returned to Germany after the peace. He obtained a living at Stuttgart which he held till 1558, when a sharp decree of the duke of Wiirtemberg against the Zwinglians forced him again to withdraw. Once more he took refuge in the Palatinate, obtained another living at Wisloch, and died there in 1563. As the most conspicuous and vehement free-lance of his generation Kirchmayer has sometimes been compared prepared for by a long description of the cliaracter and accomplish- ments of the ideal 'Husbandman,' and his 'tools' (Vergil's a7-»ia, G. I. 160). Among the latter is the House, every detail of which is minutely prescribed. It must be ordered simply yet pleasantly; and abound with flowers and sweet odours. The ' Musaeum' above all, is to be cheerful, bright and sweet ; the books in order gleaming on the shelves, with the Bible crov/ning all. The third book deals with the actual work of the pulpit, and Naogeorg discusses with the authority of experience the difficulties of the unacceptable preacher. ^ Ilicrcmias. Basil, 1551. He also produced a Judas Isca- riotes, Basil, 1552. 2 ' Nunc age (he begins), magnifici mihi membra fidemque Papatus Et varios ritus, annique ex ordine fastos Musa refer, &c. 2 Cf. the concluding lines of the Agrictil/icra Sacra. III.] KIRCHMAYER. 12 -7 -> to Hutten, Frischlin and Murner. The comparison is doubtless in each case a somewhat flattering one. Though a fair scholar and a fluent writer, he is altogether inferior to Frischlin in versatility of talent, to Hutten in pene- trating and overpowering enthusiasm, to both in intel- lectual brilliance, and even in command of Latin style; and his sufferings for his faith, though considerable, are scarcely entitled to be put beside Frischlin's dungeon, or Hutten' s death in exile among the Zurich marshes. Nor had he, again, any claim to the racy and pithy language of Murner, or to the humour which humanises his polemics, and which permits him, for instance, to plea- santly introduce himself into his most important satire in the feline form which his opponents, in those days of polemical Goats and Bulls, readily deduced from his name'. Yet he has, in a lower degree, the capital talent to which all three owed a good part of their literary fortune, — of fusing the abstract stuff of political con- troversies into a concrete dramatic form. In a lower degree, — for the fusion is certainly incomplete enough ; the polar antagonism of principles is far too distinctly visible through the often shadowy substance of their human representatives; the finer play of motive, the half- lights of moral chiaroscuro, tend to be merged in a crude glare of black and white; I'yrgoiKjlynices, Haman, the rebellious Jews, the renegade pope, are simply antithetic heroes, whose essential badness is not paUiated l)y any suggestion of moral struggle. Yet with all this, his best scenes are undeniably impressive, in their broadly but powerfully-sketched masses, their vague tumultuous- ness, their angry and sunless sky. Literary (piality in some men reaches its higiiest jjomt under the stimulus of polemics, in others {' divcrria nobil cosa o si moria') it ' Cf. the illustrations to Der gi-ossc Lutturisclu Narr. chins ' 124 THE LATIN DRAMA. [chap. vanishes as soon as they abandon the point of view of pure art. Kirchmayer belonged cnij)hatically to the former, — nay, it is when he approaches the point of view of pure art that his (juaUty, such as it is, becomes merely insipid. He is not among those who can ennoble an inditferent subject by delicacy of handiwork. He shared with most of his countrymen the incapacity to carve a literary cameo. The Titanism of conception which was the admirable side of the grossness of the age, had its part in him, and he struck his chisel with the hammer of Thor, rough-hewing his massive blocks with as little heed to proportion as to finish. Tanima- AH these qualities are concentrated in his earliest play. The Pammachius is a remarkable attempt to give dramatic form to the Protestant version of the legend of Antichrist. It is in a sense the representative drama of the Reformation era; for nowhere had so elabo- rate an attempt been made to give the Reformation its ' place in history,' or to exhibit the middle ages in the lurid light shed over them by the laconic dictum of Wiclif and Luther : the Pope is Antichrist' . Dramatised theology is no longer quite congenial to us, but it is difficult to deny a certain ghastly sublimity to this strange drama, in which the gradual evolutions of history are replaced by a succession of colossal ' divine events,' by which the whole creation is affected. ^ On the PammacJiuis cf. Scherer in Zlsctit. fiir deiitsches Allerlhtun 23, 190 ff, to which I am indebted for some hints. - Among the chief mediaeval plays on Antichrist are (i) the Tegemsee play Voi}i Ende des Kaiserthums tind des Antichrists ; (■2) the English Mystery Antichrist, (3) the P'astnachtsspiel V^om Endkrist (ed. Keller, Bibl. d. Stiitlg. lit. Ver. VA. 56, No. 68). In none of these is Antichrist = the Pope. In one the Pope appears to be the pater apostoliciis, a distinct figure. On the Anti- christ here cf E. Wilken, D. gcistliche Schauspicl in Dcutschlatid. III.] ANTICHRIST IN DRAMA. 1 25 The story of Antichrist is a kind of trilogy-subject, with three distinctly marked antithetic stages'. Anti- christ is the dominant figure of the second stage only ; his reign is prepared for, in the first, by the dissolution of the Empire, and opened with the last Kaiser's resig- nation of his crown ; it closes, in the third, witli the second coming of Christ. In the mediaeval dramas upon the subject, the reign of Antichrist is scarcely more than a brief prelude to the final Jiiditiiim. But the identification of Antichrist with the Pope modified this treatment in two ways. The ' second stage ' was changed from a visionary anticipation to a con- crete historical reality ; and, further, its proximate ter- mination, the beginning of the end, was understood to be brought about by the Reformation. In early Christian days, when the second coming appeared to be at hand, the features of Antichrist had been de- tected without difficulty in Nero ; and twelve hundred years later, the evil rule is still made to open in the age of persecution, at the very close, it is true, of that age, under the most remarkable of persecuting emijcrors, Julian*. Tlie honours of Antichrist are no longer, how- ever, bestowed on the Caesar, but on an imaginary con- temporary, — the Pope Pammachius, to whom Julian, the last representative of the declining cmjjire, resigns his ' Cf. Zezschwitz, Das Drama 7'o/n F.iidc Jes Kaiscrihums «S;c. The introduction contains an excellent account of the (levi.lnpmenl of the Antichrist legend. The drama has also been translated into (iernian l)y Zezschwitz. * Julian had already figured in the Gallicaiiiis of I Irosviilia, hut simply as the persecuting emperor. She is, I believe, (he earliest predecessor of Ibsen in this fielapistic ceremonies.' The quaintnessof the former description is obvious ; but appears to have escaped .Mr Ilazlitt, who reprints H. 9 1 30 THE LA TIN DRAMA. [chap. A peremptory demand for explanation (coupled with a communication as to the provision to be made lor deceased cooks), elicited from Vice-chancellor Parker a somewhat equivocal statement. So far from the tragedy having been played by the 'youth' of tlic college against the will of the Master, the performance had had the full connivance or even approval of the college authorities; nay, the Master himself assured Parker that it had cost the college 'well nigh xx nobles.' He hastens however to add that they had taken precautions against scandal by requiring the omission of all offensive passages, and that all such passages had been omitted'. Moreover, Parker had met no one of the company that had been offended, 'albeit it was thought the tyme and labour might have been spent in a better matter.' This was far from satisfying Gardiner, who called upon Parker^ to summon the masters and doctors of the Uni- versity to a joint inquiry into the circumstances of the per- formance, so that 'by due examination of such as were there it may be truly known what was uttered.' He the passage wilhout remark. An account of the performance has lately been given for the first time, if we except Cooper's ]-)erfunctory notice, by Mr Bass Mullinger, in a monumental work of which it would be poor praise to say that it does for our common University something more than was done for Kiiln by Bianco, for Vienna by Aschbach, or for Erfurt by Kampschulte. My own account was obtained independently, from the MS. in the Library of Corpus College, before I was acquainted with his. I aliridge many details given by him, but the event is too important from my somewhat different point of view to be dismissed with a reference. ^ Parker's MS. is much erased at this point ; he was evidently at pains to characterise the omissions in terms sufficiently severe for his critical correspondent. ' Where there is inspersed through the tragedie both slanderous cavillations and suspitious sentence' is his final combination. - MS. u. s. Letter of April 23rd (not 3rd as in Nasmith). III.] PERFORMANCE AT CAMBRIDGE. I3I hinted at the same time his suspicion that though particu- lar offensive expressions might have been omitted, the context was of a nature to imply and suggest them; a sus- picion, as we know, amply warranted. The meeting was summoned, and a second letter from Parker reports the result. As we might anticipate, the chancellor's threaten- ing attitude did not tend to encourage unwilling witnesses. The company, whose sympathies were doubtless prepon- deratingly towards Reform, unanimously declared with more sincerity probably than candour, that there was 'no offence in the play,' or if there was, at any rate they had forgotten it'. A copy of the play in which the omitted passages were remarked, was less ambiguous evidence; and it is not surprising that witnesses by no means agreed as to their number and extent. In any case the perusal of the book only deepened Gardiner's anger. He found fault with what they had spoken and with what they had omitted; much that they confessed to have uttered was 'very nought'; some things they had omitted had been better spoken. One cogent reason for resenting the public perform- I?ale's ance of the J'ai/itnai/iiiis was ai)i)arentlv not witliin '^^'<^"^''^- Oardmcrs knowledge: viz. that the fugitive heretic John Bale had already made it accessible to the vulgar in their own tongue. His translation is indeed attested solely by his own statement in the Ceutitriac-. Neither the work ' Parker to Ciardincr: ' ... the answer of all was tliat none of all the companyc declared to llieni that they were ofTendid wiih any thinge that now they renieniher was then s|>oken.' ^ ' I'aniniachii Irayoediani Iranstidi.' Any doubt as to the identity of this tragedy with that of Kirchmaycr, is settled by IJale'.s quota- tion of the opening words of his original, which correspon On the School-rlramas cf. especially Erich Schinidt's l)riiliant sketch, Die Komoditn vom Studmtcnichfii , iHRi. 156 THE LATIN DRAMA. [chap. Hveiites^ of their offspring. In the opening scene a mother laments to her plain-spoken gossip Cacologia, the cruelty of her boy's master. After mutual consul- tation they resolve to send him to the school of one Aristippus, with the proviso that he shall be taught sine verbere. A rumour of the decision reaches the boys, to their huge delight: O deum immortalem, ut est stultissima materna mens, nobis tamen ut accommoda ! The result is easily foreseen. Relying on their immunity, the boys gamble behind their books, quarrel, are de- tected, and finally agree to escape. Then follows the characteristic intrigue of the Prodigal story. They enter an inn, procure mistresses, are cheated at play, and make their way off with empty pockets. Finding a peasant asleep with a treasure, they rob him and return to the inn, where the host receives them with open arms. But their satisfaction is brief, for two 'lictors' speedily arrive, arrest the youths, and carry them off for trial. In peril of their lives, they despatch an urgent message to the mother. In frantic haste she summons Aristippus and rushes to the court, only to find that the trial, a mere five-minutes police-case, is already over, and that the prisoners, as a warning to others, are sentenced to death. The arrival of the master, however, diverts the threatened tragedy. He begs that the punishment of his own pupils may be entrusted to him; the judge with- out difficulty assents, and the boys are carried off to receive what is thus ingeniously made to appear the rare favour of a sound flogging. Stymme- The Rebelles was printed in 1535, the Acolasfus in V/^d' t' ^534- -^^ ^549 ^PPS^red the Sitidenies of Stymmelius, a 1549. piece much inferior to either, but probably even more III.] THE SCHOOL-DRAMA IN ENGLAND. I 57 widely read. It is, as I have said, a free adaptation of the Acolastus. Gnapheus had, somewhat perversely, neg- lected the telling contrast of the elder son; Stymmehus atones for this parsimony by a liberal provision of three sons and three fathers, whose divergent dispositions are paired off against one another in neat alternation like the squares of a chess-board. Eubulus, the wse friend, is now the father of the prodigal, the sordid Philargyrus of the son whose only ambition is learning, and the indul- gent Philostorgus of the son for whom indulgence is poison. Deliberation of the three fathers, as usual, opens the play; followed by the despatch of the three sons to the University. They seek out a teacher, one Paideutes, who discourses unctuously of the advantages of learning. Philomathes embarks on his course; the other two speedily follow the way of Gnapheus' Acolastus, with the difference, no doubt a concession to a re- spectable audience, that he is made to wrong an honest girl instead of a professed meretrix. Her parents de- mand reparation: Eubulus, after much doubtful stroking of his beard, reluctantly consents, and lacerated morality is patched up in the approved way by a conventional marriage. The impressive repentance and forgiveness scene of Gnapheus is thus abandoned for a commonplace dcnofiment ; and the Acolastus must be pronounced as superior to the Studentes in moral weight as it is in dramatic force and vivacity. It is needless for my present purpose to follow further Other either the dramas of the Prodigal Son or that special 'f'''^"''' 1 r i_ J 1 dramas. Class of them devoted to the school and university pro- digal. Jorg Wickram's Ju7i}^cr Ktiabcn Spiegel, one of the cardinal works of early German Romance, is also interesting as a step in the process by which the biblical motive, steeped for awhile in the atmosi)here of Terence 158 THE LATIN DRAMA. [chap. and enriched, if somewhat vulgarized, by the contact, became completely assimilated to German bourgeois life. Hayneccius' ^/;«a«s^/- {'Schulteufel') is a lively picture of 'Rebels' even more incorrigible than those of Aristippus'. Vogue of Before discussing the relation of Gascoigne's play to School- these three dramas, it may be well to review such external dramas in evidence as exists for his acquaintance with them. It is England. , -i i ■ r ^ ■ i • ■ r rarely possible ni cases of this sort to bring a writer face to face with his source; to trace his steps to the very library, his hand to the very shelf, where it lay. But one may fairly be called on to show that his acquaintance with it would be exceedingly natural, that it penetrated well within his literary viilieji. I have already dwelt on the considerable vogue which several Latin comedies of Germany obtained in England in the course of the century. Conspicuous among those which obtained the honours of translation or reprint, were the Acolastus and the Studentes. Pals- grave's school-version of the former, the French transla- tion, the London reprint of 1585°; the ms. copy of the latter made in 1570, the performances at Wittenberg and Christiania in 1572 — 3, twenty-three years after its first production, and above all the immense number of editions it went through ^ leave no doubt of the European celebrity of the two plays*. Of the Rebelles I have met ^ Wichgrevius' Cornelius relegatus, wliich I know only from Prof. Erich Schmidt's account (u. s.), is said by him to be a picture of student-life much superior to the Studentes. - In the library of Trinity College, Cambridge. ^ My friend Dr Joh. Bolte, of Berlin, has kindly sent me a complete list of the editions from his own collections. They number 28, from 1549 to 1662; of which 11 (Frankfurt a. d. O., Antwerp, Kbln and Strassburg) appeared before 1575. ■* A reminiscence of the former play is doubtless also to be III.] GASCOIGNE IN HOLLAND. 1 59 with no distinct trace in England', where however three others of his dramas the Afidrisca, Bassarus and Hecas- tus were probably known from Brylinger's collection, while his name was in any case familiar as the author of a standard treatise on letter-writing (de conscribendis epistolis) early reproduced in England. All three drama- tists must have been well known at least by name and reputation, in the literary university circles to which Gascoigne belonged. But in 1572 — 3, circumstances carried him into the actual scene of the work of two of the three, — still the headquarters of the Christian Terence. He joined the prince of Orange in Holland, and, by the evidence of his own Dulce belliim inexpertis, found leisure for the victories of peace in the intervals of doubtful successes in the field. The Hague, Gnapheus' city, was also the home of the 'vertuous lady' whose intimacy proved so perilous to her frequent visitors'. Antwerp, where the scene of the Glasse is laid, he may not then have known ^; but some parts of the plot, for instance the found in S. Nicholson's Acolastus his A/lcr-wit, where Eul)ulus 'the auncient friend' (v. 705) .ind good counsellor, corresponds to the Prodigal's father of the same name in Gnapheus; while Aco- lastus himself is distinctly assimilated to the Prodigal. His mis- tress has played him false, and he returns, in an access of cynicism and despair, to Kubulus, who with difficulty prevents him from suicide. Cf. vv. 4,59 ff. where the analogy of the Prodigal is ex- plicitly applied to the case of deluded soldiers returning home ])en- niless, sufferers, like Acolastus himself, from the greed of gold. Poor playning Prodigals, now must they wend Back to the country with remorse and shame ; But wher's the feasting Father, or the friend? &c. ' Dr I'.olte enumerates six editions before 1575, published at Ilcrtogenbosch, Koln, Kcgensburg and lUrechl. ' Cf. Dulce Helium, st. 1 56 ff. •■' That he knew it in the year following is shown by his T/ie l6o THE LATIN DRAMA. [chap. episode of the Markgrave, show famiharity with its insti- tutions, and the figure of Eccho, a gay fellow 'known to all the town,' has something of the air of a portrait. Gascoigne's attested knowledge of Dutch itself involved a certain acquaintance with Dutch society and its current literature. The external evidence then rather favours the view that Gascoigne was not a stranger to works connected by so close an affinity with his own. The degree and nature of that affinity will be obvious from the sketch already given. Distinct copy of any one of them of course it is not; it is written throughout with a different bias; it is the work of a Calvinist, not of a Catholic or of a Lutheran ; it is in the vernacular, not in Latin; in prose, not in verse. For all that, however, it assuredly belongs to the same dramatic cycle; it is an attempt, that is, to connect Terentian situations with a Christian morac in a picture of school-life. A brief examination of the play shows that it was written, like the Acolastus, with a very vivid recollection of Roman comedy. It is true that, with the majority of its modern imitators, he begins by explicitly condemning it. The play opens with this significant avis : A comedie I mean for to present, No Terence phrase ; his time and mine are twain ; The verse that pleased a Romain's rash intent Might well offend the godly Preacher's vein; Deformed shows were then esteemed much, Reformed speech doth now become us best... So too in the first lecture of Gnomaticus (i. 4), we are warned that 'though out of Terence may be ga- thered many moral instructions among the rest of his Spoyle of Antwerpe ('faithfully reported by a true Englishman who was present at the same') 1576. III.] SUMMARY. l6l wanton discourses, yet the true Christian must direct his steps by the infallible rule of God's word.' An- other criticism occurs in ii. 2. On the other hand, this depreciation had definite limits. He could not only quote approvingly the pro- fane poet's 'moral instructions': — 'let shame of sin thy children's bridle be, And spur them forth, with bounty wisely used. So Terence taught, whose lore is not refused,' — but he can adopt his slippery situations and characters with as little compunction as the author of the Acolastiis himself He does so, however, like Gnapheus, with a 'godly' purpose, though one sufficiently unlike his. The dissipations of Acolastus serve to emphasise the beauty of forgiveness; those of the 'Rebelles' to strengthen the cause of rigorous discipline; those of Gascoigne's Phylosarchus to illustrate the time-honoured texts (suggested by the piety of his jiublisher): Fear God, honour thy parents. Still more than in Macrope- dius, the merciful climax of the parable vanishes, and is replaced by the stringent severity of Geneva and Heidel- berg, where the final scenes of the prodigals appro- priately take place. It may be noted that in the only other English Version of the Prodigal Son story of which we know anything in detail, — Thomas Ingle- land's The Disobedient Child, — the solution of the parable is still more pointedly put aside: the i)rodigal actually returns to his father, but instead of receiving a lavish welcome, is with difficulty allowed a temporary refuge in his old home'. Assuming then that the Glasse comes evidently under the general category of the ("iiristian 'i'erence, I proceed ' A more dislant p.-irallcl to the I'rodij^al Story oceurs in Woode's Conflict of Conscience, with an equally emphatic Calvinist moral. H. II 1 62 THE LATIN DRAMA. [chap. to examine in detail its relation to the three plays which further agree with it in applying this motive to the domain of Stiidentenleben. This will most conveniently be done by a summary. I. A pair of '■prodigals ' is contrasted with one or more steady and industriotis students : — (thus, in G. of G., Phylosarchus and Phylautus with Phylotimus and Phylo- musus; in Ac. Acolastus and Philautus with the elder brother, a. persona muta ; in Stud. Acolastus and Aerates with Philomathes. In Reb. the two schoolboys have no foil). II. Parents., or parent and counsellor, discuss the problem of their son's educatioji : — (in G. of G. the two fathers, in the Ac. the father and counsellor, in Stud. the three fathers, in Reb. the two mothers). III. Choice of a teacher, interview and arrangement with him : — (in G. of G. the two fathers agree with Gnomaticus ; in Reb. the mothers with Aristippus ; in Stud. Philomathes with Paideutes). IV. 'Prodigals' leave their studies and involve them- selves in vice, gambling and crime : — (in G. of G. Phylo- sarchus is beguiled by Eccho and Lamia, in Ac. Acolastus by Pamphagus and Lais ; in Stud. Acolastus by Colax and Deleasthisa ; in Reb. the two schoolboys, who also inquire for 'Veneres,' by their host). V. Anxious consultation of parents : — (in Ac. this occurs after Acolastus' prolonged absence ; in Reb. on the news of tlie jjrodigals' disappearance from school ; in G. of G. both after the detection of the Eccho and Lamia plot, and on the news of ^vctixXzx faux pas at Douay. VI. Disgrace of the prodigals. The different moral and theological bias of the four dramatists led them to III.] CONCLUSION. 163 handle this point with great independence: but none wholly excluded it. In the Ac. it is finally resolved into repentance and pardon ; in the Stud, into wedded respectabihty; in the Reb. it is qualified by the sub- stitution of the scholastic birch for the judicial axe. In Gascoigne alone, the ' wages of sin ' are exacted to the full in the stern spirit of Calvin. If I am not deceived then, there are plausible grounds for supposing that one of the most respectable pioneers of the great age of the English drama stood for a moment in literary contact with the most original Latin dramatists of the previous generation ; that he met with their writings either in England, where they were in any case known by repute, or during the Dutch journey which immediately preceded the writing of his own play; and that he learned from them what no Roman or English dramatist could then have taught him, — the idea of a ' Glass of Government ' in which the unsavoury world of Roman comedy is boldly adopted with a Christian purpose, while the story of the biblical Prodigal is worked out, much enlarged and still more extensively 'amended' in the s]>here of the modern school. With Gascoigne properly closes the discussion not only of the Latin drama, but of the entire ,i,w/r^ of theological belles-lettres of wliich it was the most con- spicuous class, and which the Iveformation, comjjaratively barren elsewhere, produced with ])rolific energy in the country of its ])irlh. Still in the vigour of manhood when Marlowe and Decker were at scliool, Calvinisl 'by grace,' but a true ' IClizabetlian' by nature, Gascoigne is as it were the meeting-jjoinl ftf llie literature rei)re- sented by the Acolastus and the J'ainmacliius, and that other, not less vast or original, which is represented by Faustus and Fortuiiatus, by tales of magic ians and 1 1 — 2 164 THE LATIN DRAMA. [chap. hi. witches, of fools and rogues, of Grobians and Owlglasses; a literature not, like the former, essentially composed of Christian materials, and called to life under a Christian inspiration, but a genuine and characteristic creation of the Teutonic genius, — a heap of fantastic and uncouth shapes, permeated and tinged no doubt at every point by Christian emotion, but in fundamental structure disclosing, unalloyed, the very native stuff of genial, lawless, untameable human nature. PART II. CHAPTER IV. The Faustus Cycle. No national reputation probably has ever undergone Intro- a greater change than that of Germany between the J^u^''"ion- middle and the end of the sixteenth century among its English neighbours. To the average contemporary of bishop Bale, and to the average contemporary of Jonson or Fletcher, the name had quite different associations. To the one Germany was the mother-country of the Reformation, the refuge of the persecuted Protestants, the seat of literary accom]jlishments and civic splendour which England could at the most barely rival. To the other, probably enough, it was famous only as a land of magicians and conjurers, as the home of Albertiis and Agripi)a, Paracelsus, Tritheim, and Doctor Faust'. It ' All, especially I'.-iracelsus, are very frequently .illudcd to in the . added a new fascination to the 'most wicked sorcerer' to be a German ; nor was there any better advertisement for a tale of wonder than to be ' translated from the hye Alniain.' Among the Jacobean dramatists, Germany is as inseparably associated witli magic as Holland with 'butter,' and Spain with arrogant manners. 'Wert not better [to follow the court fashion],' asks Thorowgood in Glapthorne, of the bookworm Holdfast, 'then to walke like Faustus or some high German conjurer, in a cap fit for a costermonger'.' In the Alchemist, Heidelberg is a typical seat of alchemy, and a learned astrologer is called the 'high almanac of Germany.' The 'juggler with a long name ' whose services are desiderated in the Mag- tietic Lady is appropriately called Travitante Tudesco (Tedesco)", and the association is only slightly different in the boast of the 'upstart gallant' Fulgoso in The Lady's Trial, that his mother was a ' harlequin,' In right of whose blood I must ever honour The lower Germany'*. Penniless, where Surrey sees the fair Geraldine in the magician's glass. He is also one of the traditional masters of Faust {D. Fatistiis Sc. i); cf. Jonson's notes to the Mas(jue of Queens and Newes from the Ne7v World. Tritheim's magical fame in his own day did not suffer from the comparative inaccessibility of his magical writings ; but their puljlication in the next century gave it a stimulus. Cf. Cartwright, The OrdtJtary, ill. 5, It would lay a devil Sooner than all Trithemius' charms. ^ Glapthorne, IVit in a Constable (1639), '• ^• - Magn. Lady, i. i. Boy (to Damplay, who has declared that 'there be of the people that will expect miracles, and more than miracles, from this pen'), 'Do they think this pen can juggle? I would we had Hokospokos for 'em, your people, or Travitante Tudesco.' * Ford, The Lady's Trial, \\. 1, IV.] CHANGED REPUTATION OF GERMANY. l6y The very language is regarded as peculiarly suitable for magical observations. 'In what language shall 's con- jure in ?' asks Forobosco in Fletcher's J^air Maid. ' High Dutch I think, that's full in the mouth'.' And while this half humorous association gained ground, the serious prestige of Germany, the half filial reverence for her as a mother of learning and true re- ligion, had almost vanished. The mutual relation of the two countries was in fact essentially altered. In nearly all the essentials of civilisation, Germany had steadily lost ground, while England had made a gigantic stride. In political development, in foreign enterprise, in literary brilliance, even in the wealth and size of her cities, Germany hardly entered the lists with England. Pro- testantism itself was become not less an English than a German institution ; the former colony of the new faith was now its most independent stronghold ". * Sir Epicure Mammon's library contained a work by Adam 'on the philosopher's stone in High Dutch'; Alcli. ii. i), but the allusion is here doubtless to IJecarus' well known theory about the language of Paradise, which comes in for a good deal of dramatic satire else- where (e.g. in Glapthorne's The Hollander ii. i, where the hero is called 'yon bird of Paradise, yon parcell Dutch,' and Sconce's remark in the same play (l. 94), 'like a Turke he answered me that all Hollanders were Jewes^). Jonson's spelling of such a name as Hohcnhein, seems to show, what is not to be taken for granted in a man of his vast and curious eruditit^n, that he was not ac(|uainted with German. - Among the accessory causes of the literary alienation of the two countries was, as Prof Ward (jbserves to me, tiic almost total abstention of Germany from the religious wars of the latter part of the century, which so deeply interested Englishmen. The vast majority of the German residents in England, moreover, who might well have been the medium of literary intercourse, belonged, far more exclusively than even at present, to the commercial class. 1 68 THE FAUSTUS CYCLE. [chap. Neglect of Hence the almost complete neglect, as a serious study, German ^^ German political history ; a neglect exceptional even in an age, like that of Elizabeth, very little prone to foreign history in general. An enthusiastic traveller had produced an account of Italy, admirable for its time, though apparently standing alone'; the translated Frois- sart and, later, the translated and continued Commines^ went some way towards a history of France ; the history of the Turks — a perfectly 'safe' subject in every Euroi)ean book-market in the sixteenth century — was familiar, long before Knowles, from T. Newton's Ctirio^, to say nothing of the vivid light which had been diffused about certain episodes in it, such as the fall of Bajazet, by Greek and Italian, Spanish and German pens, from Poggio and Chal- cocondylas to Spiessheimer (Cuspinianus), Paolo Giovio and Mexia''. But the history of Germany, as such, had as yet occupied neither any English historian nor any English translator'. It was indeed necessarily included in general history, and so in such chronicles as that compiled by Lancjuet and continued after his death by Cooper"; as well as, of course, in the Chronicles of Carion continued by Fulk, and translated by the industrious '' Thomas, The Historie of Italic, 1549. ^ The Histoj-ie of P. de Commines, 1601. — A continuation of the Yiii>\.or\e from... where Comines endeth, till the death of Henry the Second, 1600. ^ A notable Historie of the Saracens .. .drawen out of A Curio, &c., 1575- ■* On the sources of the English treatments of this episode, of. The Academy, Vol. ■24, 265 f. ^ Controversial pamphlets like Barlow's dialogue on the Origin of these Lutheran heresies, and narratives immediately suggested by personal experience, like Ascham's account of the State of Germany, are exceptions which prove the rule. * An epitome of cronicles, &c., 1549. IV.] NEGLECT OF GERMAN HISTORY. 1 69 Walter Lynne'; but its history was nowhere isolated and set in focus. There are scattered signs, it is true, of acquaintance with the German historians. The wonderful woodcuts of the fifteenth century compendium of history known as the Nurenberg Chronicle probably procured some currency for a picture of mediaeval Germany then un- equalled for fulness and vigour*, and at a later date other, more genuinely local, chronicles were certainly not un- known ^ But the group of scholars who, at the opening of the Humanist age, laid the foundation of German historical writing, the Bavarians Aventine and Tritheim, and somewhat later Carion, the Swiss Tschudi and Kessler, the Rhinelanders Beatus Rhenanus and Wim- pheling, the North German Albertus Krantz, can have been known at most to a mere handful of Englishmen. No one, probably, had the opportunity of being arrested by the story of Tell in Tschudi, on wliicli his own country already possessed a drama ^; and it is likely ' Carion's Chronicle, 1532, with the additions of Fulk up to 1550. was translated by Lynne in that year. " Nuremberg;, 1493, fol. Warton-IIazlitt, iii. 233 note, suggest that Lyndsay may have borrowed from the cosmogony in U>\. iv. [i.e. iii.] his own account in the Dream. I see however notliing in Schedel's language, which Lyndsay might not have found elsewhere. * For that of Liibeck, cf. E. Howes, Stauie's Annals, 163 1 (Sh. Soc.'s etl. of Harrison, 11. 130), 'Vou shall understand that the citie of Paris was not pavefl until the year 1186, nor the citie of Liibeck in Germanic, in many years after, as ai^pearelh by their severall chronicles.' As the capital of the Ilanse Liibeck was comparatively familiar. Chettle's Hoffman, 1600, shows some geographical knowledge of its site. A 'Marc|uis of Liibeck' occurs in Fair F.m. ■• Eyn hiipsch and luslig Spyl...von dcm fiommcn iind ersten Eyds^nosicn Wilhelin Thellcn. Hy Jacob Kuof of Zurich. It was originally performed at Ury — Mem lobliclien Urt der Kydgnoschafl ' — and printed in 1545. — Goed. p. 307. I/O THE FAUSTUS CYCLE. [chap. to have been without the knowledge of an alternative that Shakspere immortalised the Hamlet legend of the credulous Saxo instead of that of the later Danish historian, who so severely chastises the old chronicler, and who was used by Sachs for his Historic on the sub- ject. And in so far as the German historians were read, it was mostly for other purposes than to illustrate the history of Germany. Holinshed explores Aventine and Krantz for the sake of his English chronicle ; Reginald Scot for stories of sorcery; Thomas Hey wood for anec- dotes of eminent women ; and Beatus Rhenanus' annals of his native land served only to inspire John Leland's history of his own'. The name of Tritheim was familiar enough, but it was a writer on occult arts and occult writing, not a historian, who was currently associated with it'. In the latter part of the century, Mianster's admirable Cosmography, which contained one of the best histories of Germany then extant, was extracted only for its 'strange stories'V or its account of remote parts of the world ; while a German historian who in European fame ranked still higher than MUnster, Philippson of Schleida (Slei- ^ Cf. his laudatory epigram : Quantum Rhenano debet Germania docto, tantum debebit terra Brytanna mihi. Ille suae gentis ritus et nomina prisca, aestivo fecit lucidiora die; ipse antiquarum rerum quoque magnus amator omabo patriae lumina clara meae.... Quoted by Bale Cent, sub nom. Leland. - Notwithstanding tliat his occult writings were first published in the following century. ' A Briefe Coltectio7i and compendious extract of strange and memorable thinges, gathered out of the Cosmographye of S. Mitnster, 1572. Other Englishmen extracted his descriptions of Muscovy, India, and Scandinavia. IV.] DRAMAS ON GERMAN HISTORY. I/I danus), is significantly celebrated by Sir J. Elyot in an often quoted line — equally remarkable in prosody and sense — for his services to that native tongue in which he did not wTite'. The same indifference to the political history oi Dramas on Germany is reflected still more completely, as might be fih'tan'- expected, in the drama. The score or so of early plays which profess to be founded on German history, treat it with an open contempt much beyond what is demanded by the most exclusive pursuit of scenic etfect. Historic truth is not subordinated to dramatic truth, but simply ignored. It is not merely that, as in Shakspere's His- tories, incidents are rearranged, times and places altered, characters differently conceived, but that the whole action, scenery and personnel are transformed beyond recognition. There ib not the faintest sign that any dramatist studied a German chronicle" as Barnes, for instance, studied Guicciardini for his Divcl' s Charter, or as Marlowe studied the contemporary reports for his Massacre, Fletcher for his Barneveldt^, and Ghapman for his great French tragedies of I'iron and 15ussy d' Am- boise\ Nay Chapman himself, if it was he, abandoned his relatively refined and even minute manner of painting ' 'Et le gentil .Slcidan rcfait rAllcmand.' Sonnet prefixed to Perimedes, 1588. Cf. on Schlcidan's writings, II. Haumgarten, Sleidans Leben iind Briefwechsel. ' Prof. Ward has remarked (il. 388) on this reticence in as far as regards the Thirty Years' War. ' I agree with Mr Bullen, who has printed this remarkable tragedy in his Old Plays (vol. 2), that Kletcher liad a iiand in it,— 'or at least a main finger,' as Decker has it. * No doubt .Spanish history was not less completely neglected in the drama than German, — and fm a more obvious rea.son. For the reverse side of the picture it is interesting to compare Cervantes' generally true and far from unfavourable portrait (jf Fli/.abeth in the Espaftola IngUsa (the fourth of the Novelas ejemplans), and also 1/2 THK FAUSTUS CYCLE. [chap, in the single German drama which goes under his name. The Alphonsus is merely a crude and sanguinary travesty of an imperial election dispute, in which the chief interest attaches to a wholly mythical love affair'. The play is Hector of nevertheless probably the least unhistorical of the whole Germany, group. The Hector of Germaiiy, professedly dealing with a contemporary of the Black Prince, is an audacious Romantic revision of the history of the fourteenth century in the dramas. spirit of the seventeenth". The Costlie Whore, though it falls in a period when the war had already made Germany relatively familiar'^, is nevertheless merely a combination of the legend of Hatto with a scarcely less romantic story of a duke of Saxony ; Chettle's IIoff>nan lays at Liibeck the scene of a tragic story in which dukes and emperors take part, but which is a palpable coinage of the Elizabethan brain"*. Evordanus, 1605, and A Calderon's fanciful rather than fanatical caricature of Henry VIII. in La Cisma de Inglaterra. ^ Cf. Ward 11. 17, and Elze's useful edition of the play. I con- fess to great doubts whether it was Chapman's work. * It was obviously inspired by the marriage festivities of 1613, the year of its composition. The action is divided between the Black Prince's adventure in aid of Pedro the Cruel (who is called 'Peter the hermit '), and an intrigue for the empire, in the course of which the Palsgrave seeks the alliance of the English king, visits England, and is entertained at festivities not greatly unlike those which wel- comed his descendant. ' This is of course also the case with Glapthorne's Albcrtus Wallenstcin, — a play doubtless more historical than any of those in the text; he could hardly indeed have altogether distorted contem- porary events. His eye for history of such magnitude, however, is at most, that of a rough soldier. — Collier's unfortunate but not uncharacteristic suggestion that a play mentioned in Henslowe: Albertus Galles (1602), was likewise upon the story of Wallenstein, Henslowe Diary (p. 239), needs no comment. * I offer this opinion as the result of a considerable number of hours spent, some years ago, in the vain search for its source. IV.] 'STRANGE NEWS FROM GERMANY: 1 73 defiance to Fortune, 1590, are romances attached in the loosest manner to German localities. The very names of the characters are foreign ; the 'duke of Saxonie' is an 'lago' in the one, an 'Andrugio' in the other. And Measure for Measure is an Italian story localised, but without a trace of local colouring, in the imperial resi- dence. The emperor himself appears for a moment, but only as a shadowy presence, on the stage of Faustus and Friar Bacon; the Wisdom of Doctor Dodypoil (1600) and Gascoigne's Glass of Governvwit (1575) treat in the same irresponsible way, the courts of Brunswick and Heidelberg '. It is clear that with these ostensible dramatisations of German themes, history had little to do, and that more than one of them owed even its semblance of German locale to the contemporary fame of one of the half dozen princes, — a duke of Brunswick, an Elector of Saxony, or a county Palatine, — whom cir- cumstances had made familiar in England. The German history which was really read, must be ^ Ncvjs\ 1 • 1 • r 1-.. i • ..1 ( i ) sheets from sought m a lower region of literature; m the 'strange Germany. and 'wonderful' News which English booksellers found it to their account to translate and publish. 'Won- derful strange Newes from Germany,' was the catch- penny title of scores of leaflets, now surviving mainly in the brief references of the Stationers' Register, which traversed the whole gamut of the sensational, the marvel- lous, and the horrible. They are but slightly carica- tured in the marvellous reports from ' Lybtzig ' and elsewhere, which sii|)j)ly the material of Jonson's News- office". Political history is almost entirely confined to a few reports of battles'j' (wliich after the opening of ' The frumcr, f)f course, in far (greater detail lliaii the latter. ^ Jf)nson, The Stafile of Nrws, III. I. - Thus: the capture and recapture of Jula hy the Turks in 1566 174 THE FAUSTUS CYCLE. [CHAP. the great war no doubt predominate), varied, at rare intervals, by an imperial coronation', or a court recep- tion". In its place we read of massacres^, and earth- quakes \ storms ^ executions" and apparitions', mons- trous births and bodies raised from the dead", fasting girls" and 'damnable sorcerers'",' strange signs in the air", prophecies in the mouth of rustics'" and of sages '^ visions of angels'', mysterious glimpses of the Wandering Jew'^ Even in the historical dramas already discussed, {News from Vienna, Aug. 5, 1566); the defeats of the Turks in Croatia in 159.^, aheady mentioned as the subject of a ballad, in Chap. I.; the taking of Stuben-Weissenburg, {A true relacion. Sec, Nov. 9, 1601), and the battles of the Cleves-Jiilich war. 1 That of Maximilian II., 1565. ^ That e.g. of Clinton, at the Hessian court, 1596. {The land- grave of Hessen his princely receiving, &c.) ^ Neiues out of Germanie, 1564 (true discourse of a murderer who had kylled 960 and odd persons, &c.). ^ Netves, &c., 1597 (at Vienna) ; 1612 — 13 (at Munster). ' e.g. at Erfurt and Weimar, 16 13. ® e.g. 'A bloody tragedy acted by 5 Jesuits on 16 young German frows, 1607'; account of executions at Prague, 1621; of 250 witches at Assenberg, 16 12. ' e.g. 'strange sight' of ye sun and in ye elements at Basel, Sta. Reg., 1566—7. * e.g. Miraculous Newes from the Citie of Holdt, Miinster, 1616. " e.g. History of a Fasting girl, London, 1589. ^^ e.g. true discourse... of one .Stubbe Peter, a most wicked sorcerer who in likeness of a wolf committed many murders, n of Fuusltis and Friar /iacon ; — at present, unfor- tunately for many students of Elizabethan drama, out of print. 12 2 l80 THE FAUST US CYCLE. [chai-. in the mouths of the country people, but in literature, an infinitesimal proportion reached this country; and these, with hardly an exception, bore the drastic stamp of Faustus. Along the great river which every travelled Englishman knew, the story of Siegfried, in whatever homely form, must still have been alive. But neither he nor any of his brother heroes of the Heldensage is ever heard of in England', and indeed, if it were not that the ballad of 'God's terrible judgment upon Bishop Hatto' early found eager readers, we might reasonably suspect that the cultivated Englishman conceived the legendary river almost exclusively as the source of the excellent 'Back- rach ' and ' Rhinecow ' which he drank at his ordinary. Even the two poets who first gave German legend a definite place in the English drama, Marlowe and Decker, know of the legend-haunted river nothing but its vine- clad banks, and the wild-boars whose tusks spoil the vintage^; and the Masque with which Beaumont cele- brated the nuptials of the Princess Elizabeth at Gray's Inn is even more bare of local sentiment than the rococo Epistle of Boileau. A mere trace of the famous Drach- enfels legends occurs, noticed as if quite unknown, in the narrative of the journey of the Princess Elizabeth up the Rhine to Heidelberg after her marriage^ A ^ At several points these legends were brought into curious approximation to English literature, as e.g. in Brandt's allusion to 'Frau Kriemhild' {NSch. chap. 42), omitted however by Locher, and naturally by Barclay also. So the Eilsam of the Rosengarten (ib. chap. 72). ^ Marlowe, Doctor Faustus; Decker, Lottdoii's Tempe, 1629, (Works, IV. 120). 2 After mentioning that the Princess lodged for the night at 'Ovenvinter,' the narrative proceeds: 'Not farre from this towne, are seven great mountains standing close together with the fair castles. In one of which the people of the country report, that the IV.] BISHOP HAT TO. l8l few ecclesiastical legends too, of European renown, at- tached a certain mystic sanctity to the great city of the Lower Rhine where the Three Kings and the Eleven Thousand Virgins had found their final resting-place'. But, as has been implied, the single genuine Rhine legend which won a firm footing in England was that which had long before turned the old Miethethurm of the bishops of Mainz by Oberwesel into the terrible MiiusetJmrm where the arch-criminal among them, Hatto, met his deserved death. Both Tritheim' and Miinster had told Hatto's story Bishop in the traditional form ; and it was certainly known in ■^"'^^• England before the end of the third quarter of the century. In 1572 the author of A brief e collection of strange and memorable timiges gathered out of the Cos- mographye of S. Minister included this among them^ Divell walkes and holds his infernall Revels.' Continuation of Stowe's .(-/////a/j, i6r3, p. 921. * An English version of the Three Kings of Collen was printed by Wynkyn de Worde, without date. The title runs : ' Prologus. Here begynneth the lyfc of the three Kynges of Coleyn, . . as it is drawn out of dyvers hokes and put in one. And how they were translate fro place to place.' It was a translation of the Latin narrative printed in 1481 l)y ' Hartholomaeus de Unckel' (date and name given at the beginning of the index), and dedicated to Flor- encius de Wcrelkovcn. The legend of S. Ursula and the 11,000 was scarcely less English than German. After Lydgate's hymn on the subject, however (reprinted by llalliweil, I.'s Minor poems), it seems to have been wholly neglected in English. In (Jerniany this was by no means the case. About the middle of the century a certain order called 'S. Ursula's .Schifllein' was founded at Slrass- burg. It was a century o{ Naves and Navitulae. • Mon. Ilirsaiig. Chronica, sub anno (jfiy. He professes to with- hold judgment upon \he fadu/a, but points to the still existing Mt4- rititn turrit and to the local tradition as arguments in its favour. ' 'A thinge done at a lowne in (Germany called Ihngium,' fol. \(k I 82 THE FAUST US CYCLE. [chap. On Aug. 15, 1586, a ballad called 'The wrathful judgment of God upon bishop Haito ' was entered, among others, in the Stationers' Register. The form of the title suggests that the story was already generally familiar ; plain ' bishop Hatto ' was not the style in which a rhetorical ballad-monger commended an unknown hero to his readers. In any case it was familiar some thirty years later. In 1 613 the narrative of the princess Elizabeth's Rhine jour- ney speaks of it in a manner which implies this. 'After leaving Coblentz,' he records, 'we came to Brobgech, being there received by the bishop of Trier, and stayed in that place that night. Here standeth that castle in which by report a Germaine Bishop was eaten up by Rats'.' Somewhat later, at a time of famine, the moral significance of Hatto's end presented itself forcibly. A very humble poet, and one of the flattest set of verses in the Roxburgh Ballads, was the result. It is headed : ' Bloudy newes out of Germanie, or the people's miserie from famine. Being an example of God's just judgment on one Harto, a Nobleman, in Germanie, of the town of Mentz, who, when the people were decayed ' &c. This is followed by a rude woodcut representing three figures praying, presumably for the cessation of the famine. The opening verse gives a clue to the writer's motive, which was evidently not purely literary : When as my mind was fully l:>ent Some story for to rhyme, Amongst all others none I found So fitting for the time. ...it may well compared be Unto a song of joyful news In pain and misery. evidently a reflexion on some grain-hoarding Hattos of his own time. ^ Continuation of Stowe, 1613. IV.] BISHOP HATTO. 1 83 A somewhat more interesting use of the story occurs < The in drama. The ' Comical History' of the ' CostUe Whore,' ^f//^^'^ , . , . IVhore. acted by the company of the Revels, was prmted m 1633. The principal subject is the infatuation of the Duke of Saxony for a Venetian courtesan. He proposes to marry her, whereupon his son Frederick, indignant at the unworthy alliance, quarrels with him. This does not however prevent Frederick himself from entering on a scarcely less palpable mesalliance, nor his father from punishing the too sincere flattery. A certain contrast and conflict of classes was thus part of the motive of the play, and it may be that this accounts for the intro- duction in it of the Hatto-story. The rich bishop has burnt among the rest the starving peasants, and after- wards suffered the vengeance of a God, who, in popular legend, is usually on the side of the poor. When the play opens, Hatto's funeral has just taken place. His brother, who oddly bears the same name, is finally ap- pointed bishop of Mentz' in his stead; there is a third brother Alfrid, who narrates the terrible death of Hatto to a fourth, the duke of Saxony. The first act contains the most rcmarkal>le use of the story. Hatto the second has just turned away some unfortunate beggars with severity. But the beggars are ' sturdy and valiant,' and, encouraged by the late notable ' example,' they plainly suggest that he will probably share Iiis brother's fate if he does not listen to them : ' he will be eaten by rats too!' Hearing the threat, his brother Alfrid intervenes with prudent counsels : ' In the pl.ny this is throughout written Mcath. The // of 171I1 century handwriting was little erman source have been amply discussed in recent years; and the present section makes no attempt to restate these familiar facts. 1 86 THE FAUSTUS CYCLE. [chap. waifs of German story, stranded by chance upon the domain of English letters, and, as we have seen, re- ceiving there at the best a somewhat lenten entertain- ment, we should have been continually reminded of one which had altogether better fortune, and not merely received a royal welcome from the first, but gathered in its train a crowd of followers, and left a memory which after the changing fashions of more than a century still remained fresh and green'. Almost all the elements of attraction which belonged to the rest are resumed and concentrated in Faustus; which is accordingly not merely by far the most remarkable of the German contributions to English Uterature, but the most vivid embodiment of their generic qualities, the central type about which they all converge. The wild pranks of Ulenspiegel, the diabohc feats of Friar Rush and the Kalenberger, of witch and wizard, the appalling shadow of an irrevocable doom which encompasses Hatto and the Jew, nay even the mere monstrosities of the flying news-sheet, the mar- vellous transformations, the unheard-of cures, the phe- nomenal crimes and adventures which tempted the penny out of the pocket of the town apprentice and the rustic Mopsa, — were all represented in the story of the in- famous, yet irresistible doctor of Wittenberg. All this, however, did not prevent Marlowe's choice of the subject for a drama from being extremely original. He was indeed habitually original in this matter. Where Shakspere loved to glorify a twice-told tale at the risk of 1 The popular play of Dr Faiis/us had almost as remarkable a history in England as in Germany. The furore created by It in 1726 (cf. Diinciad, III. 308 and Pope's note on this 'miserable Farce'), and Mountford's Faust Harleqjimade of r69S show its sin- gular power of interesting a generation less in sympathy than any other in English history with the class of subject to which it belongs. IV.] 'DOCTOR FAU5TUS\ 1 87 provoking the charge of plagiarism, Marlowe chose to be the daring singer of ' unattempted things.' Neither waiting timidly on the popular taste, nor cautiously educating it, he flung himself with characteristic audacity into new and untrodden regions, and created a furore for an unknown name. No English dramatist had yet searched the annals of Turkey, when Marlowe drew the story of Tamburlaine from the pages of Mexia and Perondinus. No one had yet sought dramatic effect in the anti-Jewish fanaticism of the time, when he took from some unknown source the story of Barrabas of Malta. No one had put the ferocities of contemporary history on the stage when he drew with somewhat too tolerant a pen the closing years of the house of Valois. In T587, a German Volksbuch was at least as unfamiliar ground to the playwright as a Turkish chronicle ; and the name of Faustus, if not wholly unknown, was far more obscure than that of the Scythian shepherd'. Once launched, however, Faustus had like Tambur- laine an enormous success. The name itself became a byword in the popular mouth, a stock term for the typical German ; and Shakspere could allude, more than a dozen years aftenvards, to an incident in it, with the certainty that the point would be appreciated ^ And we know that younger writers at least once, in 1602, attempted to make capital out of its ])opularii) l)y extensive 'ad- dycions,' to its slender bulk'. I'he many-sided fascina- ' Curious writers, like Reginald Scot, were probably familiar with the story, which occurs substantially in Weier's section on Zatiberey in the De pracstigiis dicmouum. ' The Host's reference to the horse-stealing ' I)r Fausluscs' in the Merry Wires. 'Those formerly supposed to have been made by 'ihonias Dickers' in 1597 rest on the authority of one of Collier's forged 1 88 THE FAUSTUS CYCLE. [chap. tion of the story, apparently so simple in its elements, brought it, in fact, instantly home to the imagination of all classes. For one he was the incomparable trickster, the more potent and intellectual Owlglass, who could jest with the emperor and pass practical jokes with impunity upon the accursed Antichrist of Rome. For another he was the magician whose extraordinary art had procured him the potent service of the devil ; for a third the un- happy scholar whose tampering with forbidden knowledge had involved him in a horribly tragic fate. The supreme attraction, however, and also the supreme significance of the subject in the English drama, certainly lay in his pecuhar relation with the devil. The absolute authority which he exercises over Mephistophilis, and which never- theless, like the Saturnalian authority of the Roman slave, only marks his complete subjection, has fascinated generations to which the relation was intrinsically much less credible than it was to that of Elizabeth. The bond was in itself a piece of tragic material of the first rank; capable, even without any supernatural colouring, of pro- ducing situations of unsurpassed pity and terror. Jeph- thah's sacrifice, Macbeth' s fall, Lear's ruin, not to speak of the milder fate of the Merchant of Venice, are the result of compacts of which the conditions were imperfectly understood, — of ' one-sided contracts' ; and where this pathetic half-ignorance is absent, as in the deliberately chosen fate of Antigone or Alcestis, we have the not less tragic compact of heroism, the wilful barter of life for the privilege of duty. In Faust's case, the choice, though voluntary, is not altogether heroic ; but the effect lost here is partly compensated by the appalling penalty; and his shrinking horror in the moment when it is about entries. Cf. Warner, Duhvich MSS. My attention was called to this by Mr A. H. Bullen. IV.] FAUSTUS' BOND. 1 89 to overwhelm him, serves, like the last speech of An- tigone, to make more pathetic a doom the bitterness of which was less keenly realised when it was chosen. Now the vital quality of the Faustus story lay in con- necting this admirable tragic subject of the bond with a figure whom the nativity of the English drama was fast depriving of his old vested rights in the English stage. For serious drama, the devil of the Mysteries, whose sole capacity lay in miscellaneous mischief making, was played out ; his occupation was gone. But the fascinating in- vention of Mephistophilis and his bond made the devil again dramatically possible, and gave him a new lease of existence on a more developed stage than he had ever known. The process of imitation which began when Faustus Imitations was still in the heyday of its first success, was not entirely due however to the wish to borrow its piquant motive. Dramatic zeal was supplemented by a very palpable vein of English patriotism. Just as the Borde collections of Scogan's and Skclton's jests were jjrobably due to patriotic rivalry with the newly translated 'Owlglasse,' so the success of the German Faustus produced a keen inquiry for English Faustuses. They were not far to seek. Wittenberg, the chief of German universities in English eyes had produced the chief of German magicians; and both Oxford and Cambridge could produce a tolerable counterpart of their own. The story of one of these had already been told in /-'rinr the spirit of the most jubilant English ])atriotism. The chief figure of the Famous Jlistoric of Friar Jiacon and Jiun^ay was not merely a great conjurer but a national hero, a champion of England on the field and, if one may so say, in the laboratory. His arts reduce a re- fractory French town to ilic will ui the English king; an 1 90 THE FAUSTUS CYCLE. [chap. old tradition attributed to him the design, only acci- dentally frustrated, of protecting iLngland from invasion by surrounding it with a brazen wall; another, doubtless much later, described as his crowning achievement the triumphant defeat of the foreign magician Vandermast. The resemblance of Bacon to Faustus had evidently struck Marlowe himself. More than one touch shows him to have drawn his picture of the German magician with the fame of the English Roger Bacon in his mind; 'wise Bacon's works' are among those which serve for Faustus' instruction (Sc. i), and one of Bacon's most famous mythical designs,- — the casting of brazen walls about the coasts of England, — is boldly transferred to his German disciple.' At the same time the analogy was evidently far from complete. The tragic horror which hung over the name of Faustus was totally wanting in the national legend of Bacon. Both had lived on familiar terms with the powers of hell, both had reduced the fiends to their service; but Bacon's authority over them is not only not the fruit of any guilty bargain, but is evidently regarded as an illustrious distinction, in- volving in the worst case merely a loss of time that might be better spent; and as if still further to destroy the analogy, he is made to regret even this misspent time, and to lay aside in a mood of timely and reasonable repentance the powers which a tragic Nemesis violently wrenches from the dying Faust. The popular story of Friar Bacon is that of Faustus denuded of its gloomy intensity, rewritten throughout in a major key, and cul- minating, not in fierce theological anathemas against intercourse with hell, but in the philosophic reflections 1 Sc. I. 86, 'I'll have them wall all Germany with brass.' Ward, Faustus, &c. p. vi. IV.] FRIAR BACON AND FAUSTUS. 19I of a Cornelius Agrippa upon the vanity of human know- ledge.' Such a story necessarily lacked much of the peculiar power of the Faustus legend, which, as we have seen, lay precisely in the tragic use which is made of the bond. It happened, however, that the dramatist who took it up, and who handled it with obvious reference to Faustus, was perhaps of all his contemporaries the least sensitive to the seductions of purely tragic effect. Imitator of Marlowe as Greene at times appeared to be, he con- sistently forbore to follow him in the gloomier workings of his genius. The triumphs of Barrabas, of Tamburlaine, of Faustus, of Edward, of Dido, of Chatillon, end uni- formly in ruin or death ; Greene, whose own end was to be so unhappy, refused to lead his heroes to a tragic catastrophe; his Alphonsus remains powerful to the last; his history of James considerately stops short of Flodden; and his friar Bacon turns in time from his evil ways. The joyous and light-hearted spirit of the liacon legend was on the whole quite safe in his hands. Bacon is still the 'frolic Friar'; his feats, however adventurous, are still inspired by good-natured patriotism and disinterested humanity, as those of Faustus are by egoism, buffoonery, or at best by a Wissensdrang which it is difficult to take quite seriously. Nevertheless, by one of those artistic inconsistencies to which his discordant and unl)alanced character made him peculiarly liable, Greene at a certain point abru])tly abandons the light tones of his model. The repentance- scene in the play is of allfjgether a more solemn cast than that of the story-book. There, as we have seen, Bacon has nothing worse to reproach himself with than ' Cf. the farewell speech of Hacon to his students in the Famous Historic, quoted in part below. Ward, //'. \>. xlvi. 192 THE FAUSTUS CYCLE. [chap. the expenditure of time in pursuit of knowledge that 'serveth not to better a man in goodness, but only to make him proud and think too well of himself. What hath all my knowledge of nature's secrets gained me? Onely this, the loss of better knowledge, the loss of divine studies, which make the immortal part of man, his Soule, blessed.' Far more poignant are the regrets of Greene's Bacon : The hours I have spent in pyromantic spells, The fearful tossing in the latest night Of papers full of necromantic charms, Conjuring and adjuring devils and friends,... The wresting of the holy name of God... Are instances that Bacon must be damned For using devils to countervail his God. There is however a remedy for his deadly sin, — one superfluous in the case of the prose Bacon's venial error : Yet Bacon cheer thee, drown not in despair : Sins have their salves, repentance can do much : Think Mercy sits where Justice holds her seat, And for those wounds those bloody Jews did pierce,... From thence for thee the dew of many drops To wash the wrath of high Jehovah's ire And make thee as a new-born babe from sin. In Other words, the Agrippa who has merely wasted his life in vain speculation, passes for a moment into the Faustus who has lost his soul by holding intercourse with hell, and who can only be saved by the mercy of Christ. The philosophic Bacon is suddenly immersed in the criard lights and shadows of Lutheran theology which gave so definite a character to the figure of the German magician. And if he ends, like the prose Bacon, and unlike Faustus, in calm seclusion, it is by virtue of a theological remedy — the appeal to Christ — which IV.] FRIAR BACON AND FAUSTUS. 1 93 Faustus would have used if he had dared, but of which the prose Bacon stood in no need. Greene saves his hero from Faustus' penalty, but involves him in his guilt ; and the Englishman escapes the 'deserved death' of the German only to be associated, at the eleventh hour, in his ' damnable life.' This was not, however, the only point in which Greene was influenced by Faushis. In spite of the extraneous accretions which had gathered about it, the latter still retained the unmistakable flavour of university society. Its hero was a Wittenberg professor ; his disciples, his servant, Wittenberg scholars ; his pursuit of magic is undertaken after an experience of the vanity of all other studies for which only a university could afford scope. All the critical scenes of the story take place at Witten- berg'. A somewhat similar relation connected Bacon with the university of Oxford. But in the Famous History this connexion is almost entirely obliterated. The first chapter indeed describes his early successes there, but throughout the sequel, so far as appears, Oxford is nothing to him, or he to Oxford. He is an eminent conjuror patronised by the court, and if we can infer that he lived and worked at Oxford, it is at most from the implication of one of his adventures, that 'Oxfordshire' is not far off". But Greene, the ' Master of Arts of boih Universities,' was more sensitive on this i)oint ; and in his drama Ox- ford becomes very palpably the Wittenberg of Bacon. The awestruck Wittenberg .scholars who are grouped about Faustus, are replaced by a little knot f)f Oxford doctors wliose awe is scarcely less, though, in harmony with the characteristic tone of the story, it is nuK h ' As Prof. Ward observes to mc, the l.ilcst a(la])tcr of the Kausl- story for the stage has sliown his insij,'ht by laying its scene at — Niirnberg ! H. 13 194 THE FAUSTUS CYCLE. [chap. less mingled with theological horror'. And the rough serving-man of the Famous Historic, Miles, is handled with an evident eye to the poor scholar who serves Faustus, the third figure in importance after Faustus and Mephistophilis, and so little less popular than his master that he presently became the hero of an independent Volksbuch of his own. Like Wagner, the Miles of the drama is a scholar in his way, — Bacon's ' subsizar,' ' Doctor Bacon's poor scholar,' he is called, — and addicted beyond all the other characters, though few are quite free from it, to the foible of Latin scraps. Bacon's cutting raillery of him as ' the greatest block- head' in the university, who cannot speak one word of true Latin,' would have been a compliment quite out of the question to pay to the rustic Miles of the Historic. And, finally, Greene has not only treated the Oxford of Bacon as a sort of English Wittenberg, but he has given his championship of English magic a direct point against the rival magic of Germany. The Vandermast of the Historic belongs to the French ambassador, and his defeat is only a new disgrace inflicted on the national enemy; but in the drama he is the champion of the German emperor, — one of the same race, Greene evi- dently thought (for he calls him a Habsburg) as the Charles who had witnessed the greatest exploits of Faustus. Vandermast, — ' the German ' as he is repeat- edly called, — thus becomes the representative of the country of Agrippa, Tritheim, and Paracelsus, — names with which that of Roger Bacon could alone compete; 1 We come, they say to Bacon, not grieving at thy skill, But joying that our academy yields A man suppos'd the wonder of the world. IV.] PETER FAB ELL. 195 and now Faustus was added, the pupil of Agrippa ', and yet more mighty than his master. The episode with Vandermast thus became a sort of mock trial of strength between the two countries. The unskilful Friar Bungay succumbs to the superior art of Vandermast, but his defeat only relieves the subsequent triumph of Bacon. Faustus on the demand of the Emperor Charles, had brought up Alexander the Great : Vandermast as the champion of Frederick, produces Hercules: Bacon who sends ' the German ' with Hercules back to Habsburg whence he came, triumphs implicitly over Faustus too; and King Henry's complacent remark, 'Now, monarchs, hath the German found his match'' (ii. 126), is a formal record, as it were, that judgment has gone in favour of the countryman of the poet and of the audience. A different distinction belongs to the hero of a se- P. Fabell. cond English Faust drama, which followed Faustus at an indeterminable, but probably not very long interval. Peter Fabell, of Peterhouse, stood even nearer than the 0.\ford friar, to the doctor of Wittenberg ^ All three are scholars, and university men, who have won command of super- natural powers by hard study. But while Bacon, even in the vulgarest conception of him, retains something of the scholar to the end, in Fabell, as in Faustus, the scholar is rapidly obscured by the boisterous practical joker. Moreover, the pact, with which Bacon contrives to dis- ' Faustus, Sc. I. - Cf. the lines vil. 23 — 25, I'.acon, if be will hold the German jilay, ^Vill leach him what an Knglisli friar can flo. \V. Warner (Faustus, Introd. p. xxxvii.) has briefly touched this point. ' The legend was prohahly as old as (he century. I*"ahell is said to have lived under Henry VII., and to be buried at Edmonton. 13—2 196 THE FAUST US CYCLE. [chap. pense, is the foundation of Fabell's power, as it is of P'austus'. Bacon secures the obedience of his spirit, Hke Prospero, by sheer knowledge and art; Faustus and Fabell only by pledging themselves body and soul. While Faustus however loses his pledge and is carried off in a tragic catastrophe of extraordinary impressiveness, Fabell ingeniously eludes the fiend and secures a new lease of authority and life '. Both Englishmen thus in different ways have the advantage over the German : Faust buys his power, and has to pay for it; Bacon extorts it without pretence of buying: Fabell gets it on credit and tears up the bill. The English Faustuses might be less famous than the German, but they had the prestige of success, and one imagines the complacency with which an Elizabethan audience would regard the national champions who had enjoyed all the privileges of Faustus without paying for them. But apart from such extraneous aid, the situation had dramatic piquancy of its own; it shared the endless popularity of the whole group of tales in which a natural superior is adroitly overcome by one entirely in his power, — where for instance a Tanner of Tamworth or a Miller of Mansfield resists the king, or where, as in Jonson's play, ' the Devil ' is, with very little difficulty, proved 'an Ass.' If the English Faustus did not thrill the audience by a tragic end, he at least amused them by his clever evasion of it. For the rest, ^ The Smith of Apolda, whose legend springs doubtless from the same source as that of Fabell, does this three times successively by the aid of three magical gifts bestowed on him by St Peter, — a chair, an apple tree and a wallet, each with the property of holding fast whoever touches them, which the fiend is simply enough induced to do. In the Fabell drama only the first, the chair, is used. Cf. Thorns, Lays and Legends of Germany, p. 160. He refers to one told by Grimm in the note to ' die Spielhansel ' in the Kinder u. Ilaus- vidrchen. IV.] 'THE DxVins charter: 197 the feats of Fabell are as trivial as those of Faust himself, though not quite similar. It is needless to dwell upon the repulsive story, how Fabell, by the aid of his spirit, personates a friar, and releases his friend's mistress from the convent where she was confined. In spite of the analogy of its story, however, the B. Barnes: Merry Devil is obviously hardly more than a boyish char/r ^ travesty of Faustus. The tragic terror has altogether 1607. melted away, and left a mere skeleton of grotesque and trivial adventure. Fabell is purely and simply the Owlglass-Faustus, a boisterous and successful jester, whose dealings with the devil, far from any suggestion of tragedy, turn out to be the best jest of all. Com- pletely different was the treatment of a Faust-subject in a drama played at Court some twenty years after the first performance of Marlowe's play. The author of The Divil's Charter^ was probably not unconscious that the royal exponent of orthodox demonology was to be among the spectators ; and though without a spark of Marlowe's tragic power, he has borrowed his most lurid colouring. The story of Alexander VI. offered a unitjue opportunity. On the very morrow of his death popular rumour began to whisper that the pope had been carried off, like Faustus, by fiends ; and the jjowerful imagination of Oerman Protestantism produced a finished legend which represented all his successes, including his election to the papacy, as the fruit of a formal contract with the devil", ' The DiviFs Charier, by Harnabe Barnes, London, 1607. * The story appears, substantially as in Barnes, in IIondorfTs Protnptnariitm Exeviplorutn, I'rankfurt 1572, and .-i^^ain in Widnian's colossal commenlary to the Kaust-book. I have not met with the trait of a contract \n any of the Italians, the Italian conception of the pope's history, where it assumes devilry at all, rather approaching the Don Juan than the Faustus type. I am indebted for the 198 THE FAUSTUS CYCLE. [CHAP. The latter appeared as a protonotary', the contract was signed and sealed, and Borgia then received the pecu- niary means of securing his election^ At the same time he was told the period of his authority, which, by a verbal equivoque like those associated with the fortunes of Pyrrhus and Edward II., was made to appear longer by seven years than it was destined to prove : Sedebis Romae Papa, siwuna felicitate tui [sic] et filiorutn annos XI et VII dies VIII post moriere. Not eighteen, but eleven years afterwards^, the fiend arrives to claim his victim, who, after a lengthy explanation, is carried off to his doom. This legend was certainly poorer in genuine tragic motive than the analogous story of Faustus ;. and it was not for Barnabe Barnes to become its glorifying Mar- lowe. This did not prevent him however from writing under the obvious inspiration of the dead poet. The sensational details of the bond-scene were, to begin with, a precious contribution to demonological aesthetics, and the spectators are accordingly shown how "the devil... strippeth up Alexander's sleeve and letteth his arme bloude in a saucer," upon which the pope subscribes and delivers. " The remainder of the bloud," it is reference to Ilondorfif and Widman, and for the Don Juan parallel, to Prof. Ward. 1 In Widman, the appearance as protonotary is preceded by two others in much more eccentric forms. * This trait must have been a relatively late addition, his enormous wealth as cardinal being well known to his contem- poraries. ' The pope construes : 'annos xi. et vii., et dies viii.; post moriere'; the devil audaciously explains : 'annos xi., et dies vii. ; octavo (die) post moriere.' Neither Hondorff nor Widman gives these lines, which I suspect that Barnes composed. Widman makes the term 19 years, made up of n and 8. IV.] BORGIA AND FAUSTUS. 1 99 added (with a housewifely eye for cleanhness uncom- mon in tragic poets), " the other divill seemeth to suppe up'." But Barnabe's appreciation of Faust comprised more than a keen relish for its thrilling crudities. He was not insensible to the tragic power of Marlowe's work, and in at least one or two points, seems to have borrowed from his wealth of resource. The fine trait of Faustus' wavering after the signing of the pact, partly symbolised in the conflict of the Good and Evil Angels, partly made explicit in his own words : — When I behold the heavens, then I repent And curse thee, wicked Mephistophilis, Because thou hast depriv'd me of those joys. My heart's so harden'd I cannot repent: Why should I die then, or basely despair? I am rcsolv'd : Faustus shall ne'er repent. reappears in the more matter-of-fact reflexions of Alexander : — But Astaroth, this covenant with thee Made for the soule more pretious than all treasure Afflicts my conscience. — O but Alexander Thy conscience is no conscience; if a conscience, It is a leprouse and polluted conscience. I...cauteriz'd this conscience now sear'il up... In spight of grace, conscience, antl Acharon I will rejoyce, and triunijih in my Charter. (l. 4.) The last scenes, which somewhat diverge from ilic original, are remodelled with some licl]) from J'aiistus. ' The resemblance of this scene has already been jjointcd out by \V. Wagner, Faustus, p. xxxviii. There is no suggestion i>f llic signature in blood in non'l(sch u. (jriiber s, v. Fortunatus) rightly disputes the Spanish theory Init does not explain these names. Why should a .South German writer first go out of his way to s|icak of a Porta de Vacha, and then translate it for the benefit of his readers? 206 THE FAUSTUS CYCLE. [chap. English we have simply jthe 'cow-gate'.' 'Zoyelier' again, as Zacher observes, is nearer to the Italian giojelliere (especially pronounced in the Venetian way) than to the Spanish joycro. The 1550 edition, which shows a dis- position to Germanise these Romance forms, substitutes Edelstcin-krdmer, the clumsiness of which may have hindered its use before. If the mention of 'Alamanelia,' the home of the maker of the vvishing-cap, which does not appear to be the name of a Spanish town, proves the origin of the romance in Spain, the allusion to London may be taken to prove its origin in England. And what- ever force may lie in the argument that the name of the sleeping-draught, Mandolles, looks, or has been supposed to look, like Spanish, is not only neutralised by the fact that it is not Spanish, but this spurious resemblance is ■ itself the strongest argument for doubting the Spanish origin of the romance in which it occurs. Whatever part, however, a Romance hand may have played in giving the story its present shape, it was cer- tainly not of Romance invention. Its essential in- gredients are in the main Teutonic, and perhaps the most forcible argument for the view that the last re- dacteur came of a different stock is the indifference to their import which has embedded and overlaid them with a mass of irrelevant additions. I. One of these ingredients occurs, in an obviously more Andolosia Primitive form, in the tale of the Gesta Romanorum (chap. 120 of the Latin, chap. 54 of the English version), first ^ If this is a bit of genuine local knowledge it stands alone. Louvain is eccentric in its street nomenclature : the modern town con- tains a rue des Moutons, a rue des Corbeaux, a rue des Chats. But the old maps and views show no gate of this name in either the inner or the outer line of walls. The Porta lupina is the nearest approach. I should add that I have seen no map earlier than the beginning of the 17th century. IV.] THE GESTA ROMANORUM STORY. 20/ referred to by Douce and Gorres'. There the dying Darius bequeaths three gifts to his three sons. To the eldest he leaves what he had himself inherited ; to the second what he had conquered ; to the third three iocalia, — a ring, a necklace, and a rich cloth, of which the first gave him the favour of all, the second fulfilled all his wishes, and the third transported him wherever he wished to go. These three gifts, which obviously did not all belong to the original story, he successively loses through the seductions of a mistress. Her triumph seems complete when after Jonathas has carried her off by the aid of the cloth into a desert place, — 'in tantam dis- tantiam, ubi nullus hominum venit,'— she contrives, like Agrippina, to get the cloth into her own possession, wishes herself at home and leaves him there. The remedy is as in Fortunatus. The frustrated lover dis- covers as he wanders, water which blisters the flesh, and fruit which produces leprosy. Shortly afterwards he finds other water and other fruit which cure the inflictions of the first. He takes samples of both sorts, and sets out homeward. On the way he finds occasion to heal a leprous king with his second sample, and tlic renown thus acquired gives him the opportunity of punishing his faithless mistress with the first, and recovering his stolen treasures. The hero of this undouljtedly eastern tale was already 2. a Fortunatus in the germ, and his history attached 'l^L-lf "/.•'j'^^^^^^j. without effort to the fancy, familiar in the west, of ' a //^^ child of Fortune,' — der Sccldcn kint, — a 'standing re- cipient of Good Luck".' The necklace and the cloth ' Douce: Dissertation on tlic Gcsta Romanorum, .impended to his Illustrations of Shakespeare. ' Cf. 'Fortune's privates' in Hamlet's first conversation with GuilfJcnstcrn and Koscncrantz. 208 THE FAUSTUS CYCLE. [chap. found a parallel in two similar magic gifts, one at least of which was familiar to the oldest Teutonic mythology. The wishing-hat is evidently a last survival of that of the German Wish-God, Wuotan. The derivation of the in- exhaustible purse is more puzzling', and it is perhaps fair to ask whether, in an age unacquainted with cheques, the gift of boundless wealth could well have been made in any other way. The substitution of the 'child of Fortune' for the father, Darius, of the purse and hat for the less familiar necklace and cloth, and the development of the story of their acquisition, as a sort of VorgescJiichte to the ad- ventures of the son, produced the main outline of the present tale. Then ensued a complicated process of expansion and accretion, the details of which it is im- possible to trace with certainty. It is not difficult however to distinguish two classes of addition, which probably indicate successive stages or strata in its growth. There are, firstly, traces, not very consistently carried out, of a wish to give the tale a religious and moral colouring which it originally lacked. Fortune's offer of wisdom as well as of wealth, her injunction to feed the poor, and the elaborate foundations which her protege accordingly creates at Venice and at Cyprus, — ' loo ducats income for each priest and tombs in the Minster for his parents,' — the character of Ampedo, the douce, law-abiding citizen unknown to the Gesta story, who serves as a foil to his flighty brother Andolosia, the ^ Grimm refers it to the cornucopia of the Roman P^ortuna: 'mundanam comucopiam gestans' Amm. Marcell. 22. 9. Grimm, Deutsche Myth. il. 870, E. T. Zacher, on the other hand (u. s. p. 485), argues for a Celtic origin, on grounds scarcely more convincing than those urged by Gbrres for the Spanish source of the whole romance. IV.] DEVELOPMENT OF THE ROMANCE. 209 hermit who exhorts the latter in the crisis of his fate to fix his mind on heaven, and provides him with the heahng fruit which his predecessor in the Gesta owed to accident, and lastly, his use of the fruit, not merely for the punishment of his mistress, which completes the ambition of the Gesta hero, but for her final cure : — all these things look like the attempt of a possibly clerical redacteiir to mitigate the frank worldliness of a tale, the hero of which not only openly wishes for wealth above everything else, but is led by it to a happiness which apparently leaves him nothing else to wish for. And then the story seems to have fallen into the hands of some professed manufacturer of romance, who was only concerned to load it with exciting adventures. The early history of the ' child of Fortune,' — told in ten chapters, without any attempt to explain how he came by the privilege ; the exploration of St Patrick's Purga- tory (c. 15), the elaborate courtship of the Earl of Cyprus' daughter (c. 21), the endowment of the faithful servant J.eopold (c. 23), Andelosia's adventure with tlie French lady (c. 32), the Nunnery Scene (c. 41), Agrip- pina's marriage to the Prince of Cyprus (c. 42), the in- trigue of the two earls for the purse, the violent death of Andelosia and Ampedo, and the execution of the earls (c. 48), — are additions which simply serve to turn a fairy tale into a romance of adventure. Such is the ultimate form of the Volksbuch of Fortu- na/its, the first in which we know it : — a romance of adventure, the two central figures of which, in sj)ilc of one or two undeveloped germs of moral criticism, arc treated frankly as heroes, and followed througli suc- cessive enterprises with triumph when they succeed and undisguised sympathy when they fail. Fortunatus' pre- ference of riches to wisdom remains absolutely without H. 14 2IO THE FAUSTUS CYCLE. [CHAP. retribution ; if Andelosia wastes his gifts he is allowed to recover them, and his violent death, far from being conceived as a retribution, is made the direct result of his own valour and the ill-conditioned envy of his rivals, and is avenged amid the sympathy of all concerned by the still more terrible death of his assassins. Wholly different was the treatment of the story in an English drama, to the consideration of which I now turn. Okie For- The Comedy of Okie Fortunatus, printed in 1600, is ''""a— ^ the first extant representative of the Volksbuch in English ', 1600. as it is also the first extant work of its author. Decker. This text, however, the only one we know, is plainly far from representing its primitive form. It is the result of at least two transformations ; — one thorough and laborious, though in the absence of the original difficult to exactly define, — the other hastily executed at a sudden and peremptory call, and with palpable unevenness of work- manship. The case was apparently thus. In Feb. 1596", a play called the First part of Fortunatus began to run with great success at Henslowe's theatre. It probably dealt with only the first half of the story, — the history of Fortunatus the father'. Its attraction however, like that of most marvellous stories, rapidly wore off''; and it ceased to appear. Three years later, an attempt was made to revive it by adding the second half, — the history ^ Of the later English versions, evidently fresh translations, not new editions of the old, some account will be found in the Appendix. - Henslowe's date 'Feb. 1595' is Old Style. * Not only is the original play described in the first entry as the first part, but Decker's is emphatically called the hole history of Fortunatus. •* Henslowe's Diaiy, ed. Collier, sul) Feb. 3, 10, &c., '1595.' The takings were at first unusually large {£}, and more); but by May 24, they had fallen to i^s. and the play was withdrawn. IV.] 'OLDE FORTUNATUS\ 211 of Andelosia; and the task was put into the hands of a young playwright, Thomas Decker, who had been known for some two years to the London stage. Instead of merely writing a second part, however, he incor- porated the whole contents in a single play, recasting for this purpose the already existing first part'. By the end of November, 1599, the work was finished, and on the 30th Henslowe sent him 20^^. 'in full payment.' But the very next day occurred a critical event for the Olde Foriunatus. The play was ordered for performance at court. Under these new conditions extensive alterations The play and additions were thought necessary, which apparently composite. occupied not less than a fortnight, and certainly cost half as much as had just been paid for the entire play". It is clear therefore that the new work cannot have consisted merely, as has been thought, in adding the prologue and epilogue, though these were obviously a part of it; nor could such additions be naturally de- scribed as 'altrcnge.' The key apparently lies in this phrase, together with the entry of Dec. 12, where Decker is said to have received the large sum of 405. for the eande of Foriunatus, for the corte. In other words the alterations consisted in (i) a rewriting of a ])ortion of the jjlay, and (2) a substantial addition at the close. Now it happens that the last scene in the extant text corresponds, not only to nothing in tiic Volhsbuch, but to nothing in the rest of the play, with the exception of ' That he riid this is prohahle both from the rcscml)lance in style, .ind from the sums paid to him for the work, — £() in all, — the usual payment for an entire original jilay lieing £"1^. ' Henslowe, '31 Nov.'; Decker receives 10s. 'for ihc altrenge of the lx)Ocke of the wholl history of Kortunatus.' On Dec. 11, 40J. 'for the eande of Fortunatus, for the corte.' 14—2 212 THE FAUSTUS CYCLE. [chap. two other scenes of the same stamp. In these three scenes, which bear the evident character not only of an after-thought, but of an after-thought conceived in just such circumstances as have been described, the two figures of Veriiie and Vice appear as the rivals of Fortune in her originally unaided work. They plant the two trees from which Andelosia is to gather the sweet and bitter fruit ; they woo him, as the Good and Evil Angels woo Faustus ; and finally engage in a formal dispute for the mastery, closed by an appeal from Fortune to the greater 'Queen of Chance' before whom they stood. I. Reserving for a moment the consideration of these . „,vy ^ /■ scenes, let us briefly examine Decker's treatment of the Fortiina- original story. Two years' experience of writing for the ^"^' stage had strengthened the instincts of the practical play- wright, somewhat at the expense perhaps of the vein of genuine though somewhat crude poetry which he un- doubtedly possessed. He accordingly revises the story without ceremony. The work of one of the most ro- mantic of Elizabethans is in curious contrast in this respect with that of the coryphaeus of the later Romantics, Tieck, whose two colossal dramas on the Fortunatus story' are a monument of the devout industry with which the Romantic school was wont to torment the most insigni- ficant details of an old legend into the semblance of poetry. The incoherent string of adventures which both poets found in the Volksbitch had to be turned into a rounded whole. Tieck does this by complementing, by piecing out. Phrases become speeches, paragraphs scenes. Decker seeks the same end, in the main, by cutting away. He chooses the three most piquant adventures of Fortunatus,— the presentation of the purse, the stealing of the hat, and his death. The whole of his early history ^ Phantasus, VA. iii. IV.] FAUSTUS AND FOR TUNA TUS. 213 is omitted ; the play beginning when he is already *olde,' and his two sons of an age to take up the tale at his death. Tieck, in the spirit of the straitest Romantic orthodoxy, begins like the Volksbuch with his early ad- ventures in Cyprus. The adventures of Andelosia are less curtailed, and at certain points even amplified. The punishment of the faithless Agrippina by the horn-pro- ducing apples was a trait too congenial to Elizabethan taste to be neglected ; Decker has accordingly made the two courtiers Longaville and Montrosse share the fate of the princess ; obtaining at the same time a better ground for the vengeance which here as in the Volkshuh they wreak upon the sons of Fortunatus. But there is another class of alterations in which a more Influence special influence is perceptible than the general needs q{<^'J i''^"^^"^- the stage. It is that of the tragedy of Doctor Faustus'. It is easy to see that the parallelism of the two sub- jects was of a kind to suggest still closer approximation. Fortunatus, like Faustus, receives exceptional faculties from a supernatural power, and accomplishes similar feats by their help. If Faustus plays a trick on the pope, Fortunatus outwits the Sultan ; and Agrippina is won as purely by magical means as Helena. Both stories, again, display, like true legends, the completest indifference to distinctions of time and space, and therefore presented the same kind of diffic ulty to the practical playwright ; and since both plays meet the difficulty by the same means, only in a few cases to be exactly paralleled else- where, the examjjlc of the earlier can hardly have gone for nothing with the later. The 'chorus' in both is ' A slight trace of the same influence ])erhai)s aj)pears in Decker'.s The Gentle Craft, acted 1599, t'^*^ y*^^"" '" which he revisetl tlie Fortunatus, where the travelling .Shoemaker is made to jiractise his art in the city of P'austus. 214 THE FAUSTUS CYCLE. [chap. used to tide over, as it were, the hiatuses occupied with rapid or otherwise altogether undramatic movement : Faustus' early life, then his journey to Olympus be- fore the visit to Rome; Foitunatus' journey to the Sultan, Andelosia's robbery of his brother and capture of Agrippina'. But a much more important point of contact remains. The elements of tragic motive inherent in the legend, though almost thrust out of sight by the discursive ro- manticism of the author of the Volkshuch, are in the play brought into a prominence unprecedented in the literary history of the legend. Fortune is not the benevolent fairy casting favours on her favourite child, but a stern goddess who confers them with contempt and calls him inexorably to account for their abuse. His very choice of riches instead of wisdom is made to assume the fatality of Faustus's pact with the devil, and to play the same part in his destiny; the prosperity to which it leads is as hollow as Faustus's, and is cut short by the same inevit- able catastrophe. At the fixed hour Fortune appears, like Mephistophilis, to claim her victim ; and his death-scene accordingly has, scarcely less than Faustus's, the tragic fascination which belongs to every sudden collapse of ap- parently boundless power. Like Faustus too, Fortunatus in the critical hour bitterly repents his choice ; Faustus calls on Christ whom he had forsworn ; Fortunatus begs ^ Most probably just before Decker revised the Fortunatus Shakspere in Henry V. (1599) ^^"^ "s^c, i. 269. 2 On the titlc-pagc the book is declared to be 'praccipucj 222 THE FAUSTUS CYCLE. [chap. Three agencies concur, it is said in the first division, to produce the effects of witchcraft : the demon, the malefi- cus, and finall)', diviua perinissio. Then in successive Quaestioiies, the cardinal points of the theory are one by one investigated. The doctrine of siiccuhi and hicubi, on which so much of the popular terror of the witch de- pended, is naturally affirmed unconditionally, and the doubt, 'whether it was catholic to assert that human beings could be produced in this way,' decisively re- jected'. Then, by a process of exhaustion, the writers refute the supposition that some other powers than demons may be concerned. For neither Jmmana malitia (Qu. 3), nor the niotores orbiuin (Qu. 4), nor magic words (Qu. 5), nor the powers of the stars are capable of the same effects. The second division unfolds in detail the mysterious practices of the Witches: their pact with the Devil and its loathsome accessories, the nightly flight to the meeting-place, and the countless ways of injuring which they practise by his means. The third division lays bare the extraordinary system of procuring evidence and the not less extraordinary rules for applying it. Both were used and abused, if they were capable of abuse, to the utmost extent, nor could the inquisition have been carried on without them. It was through this system and these rules that the material on which the court worked was always forthcoming, and that the supply of accused persons even exceeded the enormous demand. No more ingenious device for making something out of nothing coujd have been found than the system of anonymous denunciation and examination by torture; and the inquisitors, by resorting to the worst methods of omnibus inquisitoribus et divini verbi concionatoribus ulilis et necessarius.' 1 Quaestio 3. IV.] EFFECTS OF THE 'MALLEUS'. 223 ancient criminal procedure, effectually secured themselves against any lack of employment. Their whole work was a process of reaping what they themselves had sown, and sowing what they intended to reap. It was inevitable too that an organised inquisition such as this, armed with powers so boundless and so arbitrary, could not leave either the theory of witchcraft or the social status of the witch, as they were. On the one hand, there arose a sort of orthodox doctrine of witchcraft, based upon the inspired pages of the Malleus Maleficarum ; a mass of floating popular superstitions became a coherent and systematic theory; ideas purely local, or out of keeping with the rest, were dropped, and those that were everywhere implicit in the popular con- ception were dogmatically formulated. The witch be- came the most distinct of personalities, with attriliutes every one of which was affirmed by the authority of the Church and the affirmation supported by her most terrible sanctions. And, on the other hand, while the belief in witchcraft was defined, it took hold of the popular mind with unprecedented force. The unscrupu- lous use made by the inquisitors of their power, far from raising general suspicion, api)arently only confirmed the insane credulity which made the flimsiest accusation outweigh in the popular mind the strongest evidence of innocence. Every chapter in tlie Malleus became a text to which new victims owed their fate, and which sui)plied a sort of divine warrant for new accusations. Thus the Malleus acquired a double distinction in the modern history of civilisation. It laid down a con- ception of witchcraft which has become classical in literature, and, if it were not for one deviation of supreme significance -./l/r/r/v///, might even be called universal; and it started the frenzy of witch persecution 224 '^fiE- FAUSTUS CYCLE. [chap. on the career in which for two hundred years it hardly relaxed. The Witch thus systematically defined bore few evi- dent traces of the mythology of which she was a de- graded representative. Though abundance of genuine Teutonic mythology may be picked up from the ex- amples which strew the pages of the Malleus, to such things it is itself entirely indifferent. It deals only in the grosser ideas which, though traceable in germ in some Norse myths, were first made prominent by the well-meant efforts of the Christian priesthood. The Norn, the Valkyre, the VValdweib, are lost in the fa- miliar and hideous caricature ; Wuotan becomes frankly the devil ; the free service of the god by the warrior- maidens turns into midnight gatherings devoted to the grossest kind of intercourse. The notion of a pact made by the witch with the devil, and of her sexual relation to him, — both unfamiliar to their prototypes,— came to occupy the very centre of the doctrine of witchcraft ; and the literature of the subject teems with repulsive tales of succubi and incnbi, — a horrible chapter of super- stition which the German imagination accepted but which it cannot be accused of originating'. The Oppo- The fever which, under the powerful stimulus given by Institor and Sprenger, invaded Western Europe, was ^ As Reginald Scot suggests (Discovoy of IVitc/ia-aft) much was probably due to the text: 'Viderunt filii dei filias hominum, quod elegantes essent; acceperunt sibi in uxores ex omnibus quas elege- rant.' On the relation of the Witch to Teutonic mythology, cf. Gx\mm, Deutsche Mydiologie <)()2 ff; Simiock, Handbuclui. deutschen Mythologie, § 129. The caldron and the stick probably derive from the sacrificial caldron and stafif of the priestesses of Freyja; to whom also the cat, so habitually associated with witchery, was sacred. On the other hand the Teutonic clement in the witch superstition is almost wholly ignored by Soldan-lleppe, Die Ilexenprozesse. sition. IV.] THE OPPOSITION. 22$ not soon to be allayed. From the first, however, a few voices were raised in vain protest; in the middle of the century Johann Weier (Wierus) created for a time an effective diversion, which was not confined to his native country ; and though the ample learning of Bodin and the skill and tact of Delrio renewed the prestige of the doctrine of witchcraft, an unconvinced though by no means noisy minority continued to dissent. The opposition had principally three grounds. In the first place, just suspicion was aroused by the gross and injudicious unfairness with which the trials were carried on ; by the gross venality of the inquisitors, their obvious preference for wealthy victims, their open en- couragement of those who denounced them, their savage eagerness to convict, tempered only by the prospect of some better way of gratifying their avarice, or by their craven fear in the face of popular indignation. This was obvious to every calm observer, even to those who entirely shared the Malleus' view of witchcraft in theory. Cornelius Agrippa succeeded in rescuing an unfortunate prisoner from the clutches of an incjuisitor by the mere cogency with which he insisted on the want of evidence. Cardan argued the hollowness of the incjuisitors' case from their shameless persecution of wealthy Protestants as long as it was safe, their prudent abstention where they saw no prospect of gain. Weier and Scot both quote this passage with approbation. Further, came the progress of positive science. Hardly any one yet dreamed of wholly denying dia- bolic, still less divine, participation in nature ; on the other hand, under the auspices of men like Telesio at Naples, an incipient natural science was beginning, however unconsciously, to narrow the limits of ilie mar- vellous. Iktween the region of diabolic agency aud of H. 15 226 THE FAUSTUS CYCLE. [CHAP. comprehended law, a middle region was recognised, in whicli phenomena were l)rought about, by liuman means indeed but still by aid of mysterious processes and occult qualities revealed only to profound study. This was the region of magic, closely related on the one hand to sorcery, in which phenomena of the same sort were accomplished by supernatural aid, on the other to natural science, in which ordinary intelligence sufficed. Of this sort of natural science, a branch in which Italians of every class had great proficiency, was the action of poisons; and so comprehensive was the inquisitorial view of sorcerers that it was not superfluous to distin- guish from them even these. Tritheim's classification is very instructive. He distinguishes virtually three classes': (i) those who do injuries by natural means, poison, &c. ; (2) those who use mysterious words, charms, &c. ; (3) those who either use the co-operation of demons, without having given themselves into their power, or who enter into an actual pact with them*. This distinction is highly characteristic of the confused and compromising attitude of the Rationalist reaction, in which Tritheim himself, — a firm believer in witch- craft, — must be denied a place. Scarcely any one was bold enough to deny diabolic agency altogether ; if it was excluded in one region, it was allowed only more Weier. unlimited scope in another. In no one is this more striking than Weier, who passes, fairly enough, for one of the pillars of the reaction. His distinction rests wholly on his treatment of witchcraft in the narrowest sense, — the imputation of diabolic practices to old women. That there are sorcerers who deal in such practices he is per- fectly convinced, and towards them, as well as the ^ Actually four; but the two last are rather subdivisions of one. * Anlipalus Maleficiorutn ; cf. Silbernagel, Tritheim. IV.] JOIIANN WEIER. 22/ poisoners, he is not a whit more merciful than the inquisitors themselves. In the demoniac world he is not only a fanatical believer ; he boldly enters upon a detailed description of its contents, divisions, territories and population, which he enumerates with the utmost precision'. Quite in a different spirit is his treatment of witches. Two things he sees are necessary. The be- lief that 'witches' fly in the air and hold intercourse with the devil has to be refuted, and its existence has to be explained. For both sorts of explanation his own experience as a physician served him in good stead. Thus he not only applies a rough but effective criticism to the w^itch stories, — asking, for instance, with charac- teristic Derbhcit (apropos of the ' witch-broth ' composed of dead children boiled to jelly), ' How dead, stinking flesh could have such power?' — but tries hard to ac- count for the story by a discussion of the nature of imagination, illustrating with some resource its liability to delusions. He quotes e.g. the Natural Magic of Baptista Porta*, to show how certain drugs produce a sleep in which occur dreams ' of travelling over sea and mountains — und allerley ander liigen'; and tells a story of an old woman who had been treated witli the drug, and whose persuasion, when she awoke, of the reality of her travels was so ab.solute that no arguments could shake it. At the same time, with characteristic incon- sequence, Weier introduces the hypothesis that tlie devil is capable of producing these illusions, and tliat many of those which occur are so produced; thus supplying the more skilful (;f his opponents, such as Dclrio, with a weapon of which they did not fail to make use ; for ' "•40.^i9^6 is the total number of demons; ihcy are subject to 572 princes. ■I Weier, Dc pr. d. \\. ',4. 15 — -2 228 THE FAUSTUS CYCLE. [chap. diabolic agency, however remote, being once admitted, it was impossible to rebut the practical conclusion of the witch persecutors except by asserting that one might be in a certain degree implicated with the devil without deserving death, which few persons were then prepared to do. Hence Delrio was able to make a show of magnani- mous impartiality in admitting, like the rationalists, that much witchcraft was mere delusion, since the casuistry of the Inquisition was quite equal to maintaining the equal guilt of being the involuntary subject of demoniac powers, and of deliberately engaging them. R. Scot. Reginald Scot followed the same lines'. Though not a physician himself he held enlightened views about medicine, and was acquainted with the German medical works which were so freely imported during this century. He quotes from Fuchsias, for instance, an explanation of the inaibus or mare. He attempts to account for the belief in them by the text vidermit filii del filias hommmfi quod elegantes essent, &c. He brands the folly of the interpreters of dreams"; and though he allows certain kinds of 'divination' to be lawful, it turns out that he only means that innocent form of prophecy which fore- tells the wealher"\ Equitable law and scientific medicine both helped to raise the protest against the abuse which was so flagrant an offence to both : something is also due to the rise of a more spiritual theology. Protestantism has indeed, on the whole, not a whit less to answer for than Catholicism in respect of the witch-frenzy ; the horrors of the perse- ^ Scot was perhaps not the first Englishman to protest against the witch superstition. The Sta. Reg. Aug. 23, 1576, contains the entry of a book called ' A warning against the superstition of wytches and the madnes of madmen,' but the title is ambiguous. 2 Disc, of W., X. I. ' Disc, of JF., rx. i, 2. II IV.] WITCHCRAFT AND PROTESTANTISM. 229 cutions in England and Scotland under James and Charles, in North Germany under such princes as the otherwise enlightened Heinrich Julius of Brunswick', and in Sweden, fully equal the utmost barbarities known in Catholic countries. The total effect of Protestantism was assuredly not to diminish the dread of infernal agency, or to check in the smallest degree the morbid disposition to trace it in the most innocent human actions. On the contrary, it sensibly deepened the hold of the diabolic scheme upon the imagination by its abandonment of the religious safeguards devised by the Church. The alt bose Feind was at last in grim earnest, and the Protestant world fell upon those accused of dealings with him, with the kind of exasperation which might be looked for in a city swarming with invisible incendiaries and suddenly convinced that the ordinary channels of justice are corrupt. But while it only plunged minds of a superstitious cast more deeply into superstition, Protestantism nevertheless offered to calmer reasoners a formidable weapon against it, the value of which was already perceived, though it was reserved for the eighteenth century to put it to full use. The theory of direct and universal divine government which it op- posed to the Catholic conception of a hierarchy of secondary powers, contained the germ of the view which later dissolved away diabolic agency altogether, and referred the supernatural exclusively to a single source. But already it showed a tendency to assert the direct agency of God where Catholicism had seen the activity of demons carried on ' with divine permission.' As the priest ceased to mediate between the worshippers and God, so, for minds of this class, the demon-world retired into the background, and the Creator was restored to ' Soldan-Mcppc, u. s. 11. 88. 230 THE FAUSTUS CYCLE. [chap. direct relations with his work. Weier devotes the greater part of the first book of his Prcestigm to a determination, in his minute style, of the limits to the power of the Devil. Chapter iii. for instance, recounts 'what Satan cannot do,' — such as passing in and out of men at the desire of others, reading their thoughts, &c. Chapter iv. declares explicitly that the Devil is only the executant and servant of God ; and that the magician can do nothing supernatural without other aid. To the witch- mongers he says in effect : your proceedings are futile, for the Devil is incapable of doing what you accuse the witches of accomplishing by his aid. So his follower Brentius. quoted by Scot: 'The imperial law con- demneth them to death that trouble and infect the aire ; but I affirme...that it is neither in the power of witch nor divell so to doe, but in God onelie.' Nowhere however is this view more forcibly stated than by Scot himself. ' Certainly it is neither a witch, nor divell, but a glorious God, that made the thunder.' And again, ' If all be true that is alledged of their doings, why should we beleeve in Christ bicause of his miracles, when a witch dooth as great wonders as ever he did ?' And ' what an unapt instrument,' he adds elsewhere, ' is a toothles old impotent and unweldie woman to flie in the aier.' It is to be noted that Scot regards his attack upon the witch trials as a distinctly Protestant work. In his eyes the witch persecution is a Catholic movement, defended by Catholic writers, promoted by Jesuits and Dominicans, sanctioned and encouraged by the Pope. This view was the more natural as the earlier Reformers had had to suffer from the zeal of the Inquisitors, who found it convenient to bring a charge of sorcery where it was not safe to charge with heresy \ And even in Scot's ' '.Sithens (says Cardanus) the springing up of Luther's sect, IV.] WITCHCRAFT IN LITERATURE. 23 1 day, though the persecutions of Protestants as such had declined with their growing power, the witch persecutions were substantially a Catholic instrument'. Within a very few years after his book appeared it was to become a thoroughly congenial weapon in the hands of Protestant superstition. In 1590 the decidedly Protestant Heinrich Julius kindled with new ferocity the flames which his father had allowed to burn more intermittently : James VI. of Scotland initiated the same work with his Demoti- ologie: and in 1589, Henry IV. of France — Catholic only by policy, — was so far from remitting the persecution that it apparently surpassed that of Henry II. and did not fall short of that under Henry III., with which even Bodin had been satisfied '. The rationalist opponents of witch persecutions had Witchcraft however another enemy to reckon with, less terrible in '" ^''■'>'(i- appearance than the Inquisitors with their array of argu- ments and their practical power of enforcing them, but less easy to vanquish because employing a more spiritual weapon. Both Weier^ and Scot loudly denounce the poL-ts, whose vivid pictures of witchcraft had stamped the belief in it deep in the cultivated mind, and strengthened the instinctive superstitions of the more ignorant. Horace's Canidia and Vergil's Sibyl had played quite as momentous a part in the history of superstition as in that of literature^; and the revival of letters, in making them these priests have tended more diligcntlie upon the execution of [tlie sentences], because more wealth is to he cauyht from tlicm.' ' On the sinfjle prince of the emjiire who was charged witii wilcii- craft, see Rose.yi^A. Friedrich von Sachsen. [A. W. W.] ' .SoIdan-IIeppe, II. 161. * VS. Wcier's remark: Wie grosser uiul kimstreichcr Poet, wie herrlicher lugncr, &c. * (A. also Lucan's Krichtho in Marston's Tra^niic of Sophonisba, IV. I. fA. W. W.] 232 THE FAUSTUS CYCLE. [chap. better known, did not diminish their authority. Among a wider circle the mediaeval romances, transformed into prose Voiksbikher, kept alive some memory of the vast apparatus of mediaeval magic. Men who freely exposed the shams of alchemy and astrology had no word against the more terrible sham of witchcraft. Brandt has a chapter against the 'achtung des gestirns' 'by which every fool guides his life,' but none against the fools who pursued witches. Ariosto's scathing picture of a conjurer in // Negromante had no companion-piece, nor did his greatest successor in this field, Ben Jonson, follow up his Alchemist with any exposure of the more deadly social scourge. Fischart, who imitated Rabelais in making merry over the makers of sham almanacs', also followed Bodin in his furious assault upon Johann Weier, and assisted in a new and revised edition of the Malleus'. Nor was there the slightest reluctance to make poetic and dramatic capital out of the witch superstition. The keen instinct of the English play- wrights seized unhesitatingly upon a subject so rich in those combinations of crude realism and supernatural liorror which were the 'dear delight' of an t^lizabethan audience. Middleton's The Witch, Heywood's The Lancashire Witches, and the Witch of Edmonton are three prominent examples in which the witch supersti- tion was treated with entire realism and with entire faith. Rationalism in this as in other subjects lay beyond the province of the playwright. Scot's book was evidently well known to Aliddleton and Heywood, but they calmly disregarded its arguments and utilised its facts. As a store-house of facts indeed it had no rival in England, 1 Fischart, Alter Praktik Grossmiitter, i^'j2. - Bodin, De A/agoriDii Damonotnania, translated by Fischart, 1581; Malleus Maieficarum,Yrzx\Moii, 1582. IV.] MIDDLETON'S ' THE IVITCH: 233 and became for at least a generation a classic manual of Witch-literature for English readers. As Scot had drawn freely from the German assailants and exponents of the doctrine, it would not be surprising to find this or that trait from the Alalleiis or Weier occurring in the work of the English dramatists who used him ; and in fact it is easy to show that more than one stone which had been hewn out of the quarries of Germany and hurled to-and-fro in her literary battles, finally took its place, more or less newly wrought, in the fabric of the English Witch-drama'. In Middleton's The Witch, we have not merely Middle- isolated traits derived ultimately from the German in- ^^y-' , quisitors, but a group of witch figures substantially copied from a similar group which actually existed in Germany early in the fifteenth century. The Suabian Dominican Nider was the first to tell the story, in his book on the Maleficce written about the time of the Council of Constance. It is repeatedly referred to in the Malleus. A certain sorcerer named Stafus, living in the diocese of Lausanne, was captured, forced to confess, and put to death. He left a disciple Hopi)0, who after ^ I may dismiss in a note an instance genuine so far as it goes, but too slight tn dwell upon. The author of the First Part of Henry VI. knew his .Scf)l well, and several touches in his portrait of the Pucelle carry us back through him to the German assailants and the German exponents of the doctrine of witchcraft. Douce has already pointed out that the terms of the Pucelle's last desperate a]i|ical (i Henry VI. V. 3), arc derived from Weier through Scot (Illus- trations 0/ .Shaksperc, II. 5): You speedy helpers, that are substitutes Under the l Hook vrii, 511. Halliwell Diet, umlcr this play. ' I am unable to give the reference for this story. Johann Semeca (Teutonicus) was a canonist and ecclesiastical dignitary of Ilallierstadt. His commentary on the Dccrdunt Gratiani is the only one of his works accessible to me. 240 THE FAUSrUS CYCLE. [chap. of their mothers' favours'. Such a story was quite con- genial to the tendencies of the Enghsh drama, in which the triumphs of bastards had often been dwelt on with a curious relish of which the secret is perhaps to be found in Edmund's soliloquy. Whetstone is however a feeble successor of the doughty canon of Halberstadt. He is no magician, and the whole burden of contrivance is thrown, as may be supposed, upon his witch-aunt. By her aid Whetstone invites the gallants who have insulted him to a feast, pleasantly deprecating their shamefast apologies: 'What is that among friends, for I would fain know which among you all knows his own father?' — and triumphs like Teutonicus ^. ^ Such reproductions of dead heroes were of course among the commonest feats of the old magician, as of the new spiritualist. Not to speak of obvious instances, I may mention that Heywood himself had quoted in the Gynackaeon (ed. 1601, p. loi), Weier's story of the magician who summoned up Achilles and Hector for the delectation of Maximilian I. " The Lane, IVitehes, Act iv. The further detail of this some- what repulsive story may be given in a note ; — 'But tell me, gentlemen,' asks Whetstone, at the close of the meal, is there any amongst you that hath a mind to see his father?' Bantam. ' Why who shall show him ? ' Whetstone. ' Thats all one, if any man here desire it, let him but speake the word, and 'tis sufficient.' Bantam. 'Why, I would see my father.' Thereupon enters the form of ' a pedant dancing to music ; ' the strains done he points at Bantam, and looks full in his face. Whetstone, 'Do you know him that looks so full in your face?' B. 'Yes, well, a pedant in my father's house, who being young taught me my ABC. '...Whetstone explains the circumstances to Bantam's con- fusion and his companions' merriment. ' Why laugh you, gentlemen ? It may be more mens cases than his or mine.' The images of their fathers in fact follow, 'a nimble Taylor dauncing,' and a stableman with switch and curricomb. Lastly, Whetstone caps his triumph by displaying his own father, no menial like theirs, but a gallant. 'Now gentlemen make me your President,' he exclaims in triumph: 'learn your duties and do as I do.' His vanquished persecutors are IV.] CONCLUSION. 241 This isolated and insignificant story is only interesting as an indication of the complex threads of legend and learning which went to the making of the witch of drama even more than the witch of common superstition. The various departments of magic were not curiously distin- guished. The sorcerer was plundered to enrich the witch, as the witch to enlarge the powers of the sorcerer. In the chapter which I here close it has been con- tinually necessary to trench upon an apparently remote branch of the subject, which the idiosyncracy of the sixteenth century, particularly in Germany, brought into the closest touch with it. The dread of magic did not prevent it from calling up ludicrous ideas; the terrible sorcerer to one man was the ridiculous mountebank to another; the very extravagance of his feats made them laughable the moment they ceased to be imposing. Nay, in the same hands, the subject could become alternately humorous and awful without the slightest sense of strain; Faustus and Fortunatus use their giant's power like buffoons; from Faustus sealing his bond in his blood to Faustus making game of the pope, from the Ulenspiegel- like jests with the horse-dealer and the knight to one of the most thrilling death-scenes in literature, was a transition which assuredly neither German reader nor English spectator dreamed of resenting or finding strange. In the following chajjter I propose to make the same tran- sition, and lo ])ass from wliat I have ventured to call the Faustus-cycle, to that literature of Jest which may be equally called, from its most national and on the whole most typical representative, the Cycle of Ulcnspiegel. at first inclined to resent this inversion of their position, hut finally agree in good Elizabethan fashion to forget their clificrences in a revel. H, 16 CHAPTER V. The Ulenspiegel Cycle. German If the wit of a nation were measured by its industry ofthe''\lth ^"^ collecting good things, Germany might have met the century. famous question of the Pfere Bouhours with complete equanimity. No literature is richer than hers in those compilations of amusing anecdote of which the sixteenth century was everywhere so prolific, and which owed their extraordinary development if not their origin to the new 11. Bebel: literary influence of the bourgeois class. The first ^''^^'r, stimulus indeed came from elsewhere; it was not the arum lilin ' ires, 1506 naive grossness of a Niirnberg Fastnachtsspiel but the [pr. i,.,o ). g]^£gj^j^|- ^^^ pointed grossness of Italian Humanism 'Schimpf which served as model for the Facetiae of Bebel'; and und Ernst, ^j^g second great Jest-book, the Schimpf tind Ernst of ■ the monk Johannes Pauli, though owing much to Bebel, is still more closely related to mediaeval collections, such as the Gesta Romanorum, of moral examples for use in the pulpit. Bebel was the direct follower of the ardent and purely pagan Poggio; Pauli drew no small part of his work from the anecdotes which had lately been heard in Strassburg cathedral from the lips of the most ^ Bebel's materials were indeed in great part German enough, adapted, with much trouble as he confesses, from native originals ('has nostras facetias, quas summa cum difficultate ad lalinum eloquium commutavi'), but as a raconteur he is altogether out of the range of his successors. CHAP, v.] JEST-BOOKS. 243 remarkable preacher of the age, Geiler von Kaisersberg, as he illustrated its most famous moral satire, the Ship of Fools\ But when some years later, this beginning was fol- Later lowed up, it was in a different quarter. Soon after the I"^-^°°^^- middle of the century the production of jest-books came suddenly into vogue; but their authors are now neither scholars, as such, nor monks, but genuine citizens, often of official standing, and their contents, though in great part founded on either Bebel or PauU, retain scarcely a trace of the formal elegance of the one, and but few of the moral earnestness of the other. Jorg Wickram, town-clerk of Burgheim, one of the most attrac- tive figures in the literary history of Alsace^, led the way; and he was rapidly followed by his fellow-Alsatians Jacob Frey, town-clerk at Maursmiinster, and Martin Montanus of Strassburg; while across the Rhine the congenial vein was continued by Velten Schumann, Wilhelm Kirchhof, and Michael Lindener, the last-named one of the most extraordinary of the genial Grobians, the ^/rommen, auserlesenen, bundten und rundten Schnudel- 1 I'auli's preface, like his title .SV///;;/// (i.e. Scherz) und Ernst, well illustrates the middle position which he holds between the Facetist and the preacher: He has written with three objects, [i] dainit die geistlichen kinder in den heschlosznen klostcrn etwa zu lesen /tahen, damit sie zu zciten iren geist mogen erlustigen und r7(wen,...[2] aitch die uff den schliissern und bcrgcn wonen und geil sein, erschrockenliclte und crnstliche ding finden, davon sie gehcs- sert wcrden ; anch [3] das die preiiranten cxempel haben, die schlcf- fcrlichen menu/ten zu erwccken, und lustig zu horen maelicn. I'auli has been a'lmir.ibly edited by Ocstcrley in the Stuttgard Litt. Verein iiibl. Hd. 85. ' Cf. especially for his share in turning the romance into the modern novel, Schcrcr's Die Anfange des dcutsckcn J'rosa-roinans (Quellen und Forschungen, ,\,\i.). 16 — 2 244 THE ULENSPIEGEL CYCLE. [chap. butzen^ who ever spent wit and learning in giving a literary flavour to filth. Rough and gross-minded as many of these men were, nearly all had a practical, and in its way a moral, purpose, commonly disclosed with more or less sounding epithets in their preface or title- page. Pauli had chiefly had in view his own clerical order, though not without a hope that his moral ex- amples might benefit an unruly aristocracy. Wickram and his followers write explicitly in behalf of the merchant class of the towns. The rapid growth of luxury had produced not only ampler leisure, but a higher standard of social intercourse, a more deliberate cultiva- tion of amusing talk. To the noble absorbed in war and hunting, to the peasant immersed in the wearing labours of the field, society meant little more than the uncere- monious drinking-bout that closed the day in castle or in tavern. But civic life brought with it countless occasions of more or less formal and involuntary intercourse, for which a store of '■ Schimpfreden^ ^boszen,' '■ spudelingen^ ^grtllen,' '■iaubeii,' and ' scJnudnke,^ was the best of equip- ments. The tedious sea-voyage, the long diligence journey across country to Niirnberg or Koln, or to the great national fairs of Frankfurt or Leipzig, the evenings spent in rough country inns (where supper, as we know, was often deferred till the last chance of more guests was gone'), the critical intervals of convivial inter- course in garden or banquet hall, the tavern, where folk sat, says Lindener, like a 'hiiltzner laternV nay, even the ^ Cf. the chapter on 'Deversoria,' in Erasmus' Colloquia, — a chapter from which Scott drew nearly every detail of the tavern described in Anne of Geierstein. 2 Erich Schmidt in Allg. D. Biog. art. 'Lindener,' — a little master-piece (it is not much over a page) of combined wealth of detail and force of style. v.] SIXTEENTH CENTURY HUMOUR. 245 briefer emergencies of being shaved or taking a bath', were all relieved by the possession of one of these com- pendiums of good things, — Rollwagenbiichlin'- , Nacht- bilchlin, Rastbiichlin, Wegkiirzer, Wendwwmth ('turn away gloom'), Gariengesellschaft, as they were christened with pointed reference to their intended use^ I have purposely begun with these miscellaneous Character- collections of Jests from all sources, late in date and 'c!^^,nan ^ loose in form though they are, as more representative of 7^^^- the whole compass of German humour, than the more specialised groups of anecdotes which, like the Histories of Amis or Ulenspiegel, attached themselves to a single famous name. Even with this advantage however, it cannot be said that the national powers of humour appear either brilliant or versatile, and far less if we look only to that meagre fraction of the facetiae currently read in Germany which was actually produced there. It is a humour with no trace either of the caustic subtlety of Italy or the ease and gaiety of France, and wholly ' Even Bcbel had liad the tedium of bathing particularly in view. Cf. the dedication of his Facetiae to an invalid friend, the Abbot of Zweifeldcn, then taking the waters: — 'aggressus sum ea commentari et fingere...quae maxime in thermis agentibus idonea et grata esse cxistimo.' ' Like our 'railway-reading,' ' Eisenbahnleklur.' * Cf. Wickram's Rollwagenbiiehlin, 1555 ; Ein iieihus, vor uncrliorts Biichlcin, darinn vil guter Schwenck unJ Histotien Ihgriffen werden, so man in schiffen und auff den rolhuegen, dcss- gleichen in scherhaiiseren und hudstuben, zii lang-ueilii^en zeilen erzellen mag,.... Mien A'?w?t ajid Saturnus, where Saturnus, as a 'Chaldaean Earl' of many travels and vast experience, probes the still vaster knowledge of the Jewish king on a variety of theological problems^. It shared however the general oblivion which overtook Old-English literature, and stands in complete isolation from the later development of the legend whether on the continent or in England itself. The essential steps in this development undoubtedly belong to the former. There the name Marcolf for the first time occurs in connexion with that of Solomon in the psalms of Notker, as engaging with the king, no longer, like Saturnus, in a disputation of the master and scholar type, but in a true polemical, yet still quite serious and decorous, debate''. The evidence of the earliest allusions in France, north and south, though slight, points equally to a discussion in which Marcolf is not yet the low jester Marcolf who ranks with Ulenspiegel and the Kalenberger, but a worthy antagonist, his rival in learning, whose name was wont to be coupled with his ' Cf. the arguments of Schaumberg u. s., who wholly rejects the notion of an oriental origin for the legend. - Cf. Kemble u. s., and ten Brink, Gcsch. d. engl. Lilt. i. 113. ^ Kemble u. s. p. 13; Schaumberg u. s. p. 33; 'Waz ist ioh anderes daz man Marcholfum saget sih Menon wider proverbiis Salomonis? An diC-n alien sint wort sconi-A ane warheit.' \ v.] SOLOMON AND MARKOLF. 255 in the proverbial praise of wisdom and fair speech'. And from the probable fact that a very early form of the dialogue received a clerical commentary*, it is probable that it dealt with theology, and that Marcolf was the ingenious champion of a disputed doctrine, — or, as the cleric Notker put it more strongly, — the pleader, in fair words, for an untruth. With the twelfth century however, the conception of Dialogue Marcolf begins to change. The rival of Solomon is ^,^ j^j^^^ degraded into his parodist; the decorous sage of iah culphcs. speech becomes a boor, full of the gross though pregnant humour of the people. The poetical catechism, the serious debate, give place to a formal rivalry in shrewd sayings, a competition of homely mother wit with divine wisdom. The Latin dialogue in wliich this conception was first embodied, is no doubt substantially represented in the well-known Collationcs, quas dicwitur fecisse mutuo rex Salomo...ct Marculphus; in the oldest version this un- ' Cil f|Ut; m'a vout triste alegre Sab mais que Salonios ni Marcols Kambaut d'Auvcrgne, quot. Kcmblc and .Schaumberg. Mes de tant soil chescun certayn Kcu Ic monrle nad si bon ecrivcyn ni ficust a. tant comine Salomon sage et com Marcun de bon langagc. MS. Arundel 507, 81, quot. Kemble. The latter testimony exactly coincides with Notker's jf(5«//} ivo>-t. In the later tlialogue he is still eloquailissitnus, but in a manner less likely to attract either the poet or the preacher. ' Schaumberg agrees with Kemble in giving this very plausible interpretation to a confused description in the llist. litt. de la France, torn. III. 565, of a MS. in the I5ii)l. Nat. : 'La quatorzieme piece est adressce i un nomme Robert, i qui I'auteur fait I'honneur d'un travail sur (les formules flc) Mnrculfe et de commentaires sur (les livres de) Salomon, &c." Schaund)., u. s. p. 35. 256 THE ULENSPIEGEL CYCLE. [chap. doubtedly consisted of the interchange of proverbs alone; the framework of narrative which encloses this in almost every known version, though it can be but little younger, is easily separable', and belongs in part to a different school of humour. A few words will suffice to characterise the former. Markolf's replies are in great part, as I have said, paro- dies, not less in style and manner than in matter. He mimics the solemn air of Solomon, and the comic effect is enhanced by the rhythmical balance which causes the successive pairs of saying and parody to recall to the ear the familiar parallel phrasing of Hebrew poetry. He utters ridiculous precepts relating to the least dignified parts of the body in the same gravely balanced antithesis which had just before conveyed a solemn ejaculation about virtue or understanding. What Solomon says of the temple or the council chamber, Markolf applies to the kitchen ; regulations for men and women are copied for dogs and cats \ spiritual analogies are followed out in the world of eating and digestion, or further still. Among these strictly parodic proverbs, however, are scattered others in which the contrast of peasant and king takes a less purely Hterary form, which we shall find made the principal motive of a later Markolf dia- logue. The peasant Markolf as a poor man becomes a strict representative of his order; he is the boor, the vilaifi, liable to disastrous collisions with the rich and strong, and whose ethical code is a set of practical ' In the former for instance, we find Solomon alluding at the very outset to his famous judgment : bctie mdicavi inlcr duas meretrices quae in una doffio oppresscra7it infantem ( ' ubi sunt aures ibi sunt cause' replies Markolf); but in what the narrative shows to be the sequel, the whole scene is worked out in full, as if it had not occurred before. v.] SOLOMON AXD MARKOLF. 2$y maxims for steering his way with as few of such col- Hsions as possible. He opposes the practical egoism of struggling men to the liberality, the 'courtoisie', of the noblesse. ' Many are they,' says Solomon, ' who return evil for good to their benefactors.' ' But he,' responds Markolf, 'who feeds another man's dog, gets no thanks.' ' He shall himself cry,' pursues Solomon, ' who turnetli away from the cry of the poor.' 'And he loses his tears,' rejoins Markolf, ' who sheds them before a judge.' The framework of narrative in which the wit-combat is embedded, is a succession of Schwd?ike, carried on for the most part in Solomon's court. The opening para- graph tells of his first arrival, and draws his portrait with a graphic minuteness of detail quite foreign to the ordi- nary narrative style of these books, in which the pause for description is unknown. He is ' short and thick-set, with a great head, broad, red, wrinkled brow; hairy ears that hang over his breast, big bleared eyes, horse lips, a goat's beard and hair, a stumpy nose, short fat fingers, and club feet ; shod in country clogs of a piece with his dirty patched cloak and his scanty tunic' The narra- tive falls into three sections or complexes of anecdote, which perhaps in i)art rejjresent successive additions. The first (besides a coarse practical jest of the lowest Ulenspicgel type') gives Markolf 's explanation' of his own wisdom : on the day when Solomon as a boy had tasted the vulture's heart, his mother had thrown Mar- kolf, then a rhild in the kitchen, its skin'\ 'I'he second is chiefly occupied by the solution of Markolf's well- ' Ca/>. 'Marcolphus .Salamoni rc(;i (jllam lactis plenam ofTcrl.' ' Ca/>. ' Kcx .Salomon. ..inlrns|)uxit doiuuin Martolplii.' •* Tliis is omitted in all tlic earlier Cjcrman versions, and can hardly therefore belong to the earliest state of the narrative. Cf. .Schaumberg, p. 4. H. 17 258 THE ULENSPIEGEL CYCLE. [chap. known paradoxes, and its consequences. Solomon chal- lenges Markolf to watch a night with him. Markolf repeatedly sleeps, and on each occasion a dialogue of this type takes place : Sol. Dermis Marcolphe. M. Non dormio sed penso. 6". Quid pensas? J/. Penso nullam rem sub sole esse candidiorem die. ...6". Probandum est hoc'. A series of similar puzzles is thus accumulated, which on the following day he is called to solve. Milk he shows to be ' less white than daylight ' by putting a bowl of it in the dark ; 'nature stronger than education ' by letting loose a mouse before the eyes of a cat which has been trained to hold a candle^, and 'women to be untrustworthy' by inducing his sister to give information that he carries a concealed dagger, with aims against the king's life ; the search for it, naturally fruitless, speedily establishes his innocence, — and his thesis^ In- dignant at this refutation, Solomon banishes him, with a threat that the dogs will be loosed upon him should he return : he obtains a hare however, sets it free before the dogs, who pursue it instead of falling on him, and presents himself once more unharmed before the king, who condones his audacity for the sake of his wit. With one other, somewhat grosser, piece of humour'' this second section closes, and in at least one MS.** the entire story also. In the rest there follows a fresh episode at court, ^ Cap. ' Rex Salomon et Marcolphus per noctem vigilare volentes.' * Cap. 'Marcolphus... ex manica mures decurrere permisit.' ' Cap. 'Ad regem Marcolphi soror vocatur.' •• Cap. 'Marcolphus in faciem calvi salivam spuit.' The bald man complains to the king, whereupon Markolph excuses himself: 'Non fedavi [frontem hujus] sed fimavi, in stcrili enim ta-ra finius ponitiir.^ ' Vienna cod. 3337. Schaumberg, p. 5. v.] SOLOMON AND MARKOLF. 259 ending like the former with a banishment, a threat, and a successful evasion. The first story gives a new turn to the familiar history of Solomon's judgment. Markolf rails at the king's easy credulity : ' a woman has infinite wiles,' and enforces his bad opinion of the other sex by spreading a calumny about the king's prospective legal reforms' which shortly brings the 7000 women of Jeru- salem in fury to the palace to revile him. Impatient at their taunts, Solomon exclaims that he would rather live with dragons and lions than wth evil women; Nathan urges moderation; — 'we must answer fools according to their folly,' retorts the king. Markolf immediately starts from his place: 'Thou hast spoken my mind, Solomon: this morning you extolled women, now you revile them*.' In wrath at this treachery the king once more banishes his antagonist, who as before finds means to reassert himself by a coarse trick which nevertheless became one of the most popular incidents in the story^ Ex- asperated at the insult, Solomon orders him to be hanged. Markolf begs only to he allowed to choose the tree, and Solomon agrees. But to every tree which his guards suggest, he discovers excellent objections ; and after ' A law that every man should have seven wives. The women are of an exactly opposite opinion : 'melius est ut una mulicr hahc- ret septem viros.' ' Cap. 'Hie convenerunt mulieres ante rcgem Salomonem.' This chapter is in subject a repetition of the episode with Markolf's sister, and the mechanism by which the proof in each case is obtained is also analogous. Markolf beguiles the women to be unconscious witnesses against themselves. •* Cafi. 'Ilic .Salomon venit ante furnum ubi Marcol])hus jacuit.' The king had ordered him 'not to kt him see his face' again, — ' ne videam te in mcdiis oculis.' M.irkolf, in spite of his 'curia tunica,' lies down in the oven in the ])osition best adapted to conceal his face. 17 — 2 26o THE ULENSPIEGEL CYCLE. [chap. leading him through Syria, Palestine and Arabia, they are obliged to return to Solomon and report that they had been unable to find any tree, though it were the olive of Jerusalem, or the cedar of Lebanon, on which Markolf lois/wd to be hanged. Here in the longest Latin versions the story ends, adding only that he 're- turned home and abode in peace,' — the usual laconic dismissal of a jester who has done jesting. Markolf The Markolf thus vividly drawn was certainly in- and Aesop, (jei^j-gfj for certain hints to another legendary figure who has been in recent times more than once associated with him, the astute slave of the Greek philosopher Xanthus. But I do not think these hints have amounted to much; the imitation is in any case thoroughly independent and original. Markolf is throughout the German boor and is in no way assimilated to the Greek slave. The de- scription of his person, though clearly influenced by that of Aesop, is still quite distinct. Ijoth are ugly, but Aesop's ugliness is that of Thersites, — the 'pointed head,' the 'squint eye,' the actual deformity of shape'; — while Markolf's is mainly borrowed from the mere gross- ness of brute life. Aesop is a distorted man, Markolf an intellectual beast. Aesop's jests again are as strictly those of his condition, as Markolf's are of his. They are the tricks of the household slave as he waits at table or goes to market, often merely perverse interpreta- tions of orders, like those which Ulenspiegel inflicts upon his masters the shoemaker and the tailor, and oc- ^ Cf. the (t)0^6i, (^oXkos, xwXoj of //. n. ■212 ff., with the ^ofoj, /3Xa:crds, Kwerbes au comte de Brciagtie, where each strophe is in the same way clinched by a proverb, with the running burden, ce dit It vilains, which the '(juoth Hendyng' of tlie English proverbs is obviously meant to represent''. Nei- ther Hendyng nor the vilain however at all represent, * Mon )jat vvol of wysdom hcrcn At vvyse Hendynge lie may Icrnen, )»at wes Marcolues sone. The opening stan/a, in which these words occur, is only found in one MS. (Ten Hrink, u. s.); they are probalily therefore not those of the author, hut they are evidently contemporary. ' Gewli. d. ctii^l. I.itl., p. 392. Kemble, who as he himself achnits in a suhsequent note, unaccountably omitted the allusion in Ilcndyng when discussing the traces of the story in ICngland, diil not I think see, what I hope will immediately ai)pear, that it points to the I'rctagnc Marcoul. ■* To show the similarity of form I quote a stanza from each : Ji por cstre corlois plus grevez ncsserois que por cstre vilains; Ics Icschcs sont a chois 266 THE ULENSPIEGEL CYCLE. [chap. like Markolf, the vilaiiis characteristic point of view; the precepts which Hendyng is made to sum up in his epigrams is rather clerical in tone ; with its zeal for knowledge (2 — 5), charity (12), and temperance (36). Nor is the vilam of the proverbs a typical man of his class. At the very outset he is found regretting the decay of the chivalrous virtue of honour, and applauding the 'valour' that leads men to bear pain, the 'prowess' that is the enemy of sluggishness'. And throughout, his maxims, like Hendyng's, seem rather to give the sanction of popular wisdom to universal morality than, like Markolf's, to combat and trench upon it. Why then is Hendyng called Markolf's son ? From what I have already said of the first French poem of Marcol or Markolf, it will be plain that the transition from this provided exactly the middle stage which we require from the Markolf of the Latin dialogue, the foul-mouthed, mais qui prent du sordois bien doit avoir du mains; qui d'onneur n'a cure, honte est sa droiture, ce dit li vilains. Crapelet, j). 1 70. 3ef {jou havest bred ant ale ne put )30u nout al in \>y male, {jou del hit sum aboute; be )jou fre of \>y meeles, wher so me eny mete deles gest Jjou nout wijjoute. Betere is appel y3eve J'en y-ete, quo{j Hendyng. Kemble, p. 273. ^ Crapelet, p. 169, st. 1 ; this is the exact antithesis of Marcoul's : Ge n'aim pas la valour dont Fen muert a doulor. v.] MARKOLF AS 'FOOL: 267 gross-minded parodist, to the excellent and honourable 'vilain' and his English brother Hendyng'. The Mar- colf of the Count of Bretagne begins as an antagonist, but his later utterances are often indistinguishable in tendency from the king's, instead of parodying Solo- mon's sayings he caps them ; and from the cap which completes the step is small to the proverb which clinches. With the disappearance of the antagonism, moreover, the dialogue form at once became superfluous, and, when the vi/ain replaced Markolf, was naturally dropped, or lin- gered only in suggestion conveyed by the ' ce dit ' and the ' quoth,' that the vilain or Hendyng spoke only the final phrase. Within 150 years from the Proverbs of Hendyng, a 2. totally different conception of Markolf had gained /;^^^'^.J^-^ '''* ground. The kind of supremacy which he had won in Lydgate. proverb literature, is exchanged for a similar supremacy in the equally vast literature, to which 1 shall return in the next chapter, of Fools. 'I'o Lydgate, whose some- what gloomy morality and entire want of humour made him a natural enemy of the whole tril)e of Markolf's, the 'father' of the proverb-maker Hendyng becomes the ' founder, jjatron and president of the order of fools ^' The antagonist of Solomon becomes, what he had never yet been, his direct moral antithesis; the rivalry, which in the lirctagnc dialogue was all but dissolved in good fellowship, is now sharpened into diametric opposi- tion; the satiric bias, the class feeling, the humour, which had made the rough peasant appear rather more than the equal of the divinely endowed king, are all * This is of course not meant to iniply tlial llic fiyurc Hendyng was new, or a copy of the vi/ain ; but only that it was through the vilain that he came to be connected with Markolf. '■• Lydgate: 77ic Order 0/ Fools, v. 5. 268 THE ULENSPIEGEL CYCLE. [chap. stripped away, and the supreme representative of wisdom is confronted — what could be more simple and natural? — by the chief of 'fools". It can hardly be doubted that this strong antipathy to Markolf was due, as Kemble has pointed out, to the second of the two French versions of the story; in which, as I have already said, the degradation of the German Markolf is carried still further than his refinement had been in the former. For Lydgate's 'fools,' like Brandt's, include not merely simpletons but actual wrongdoers of every kind; the 'order of fools' is a representative gathering of all the various forms of sin, — exactly sixty- three in number in Lydgate's view. The patronage and presidency of such a body could hardly be credited to a man who had not a well-assured reputation for positive wickedness. The pranks of tlie German Markolf could not possibly entitle him to that position; even his gross- ness is at the worst disgusting, not licentious; he hardly breaks the commandments and commits no deadly sin. Only the truly loathsome Marcolf of the French dictz ^ Lydgate's moral contempt for Markolf is still better seen in his other allusion, in the Moral of the Fable of the horse, the goose and the sheep: — Lydgate's Minor Poems, p. 120 (Percy Soc). A cherol of birthe hatithe gentil bloode; It were... A perilous clymbyng whan beggers up arise To hye estate. ..Clymbyng of foolis Unto chayers of worldly dignite, Looke of discrecioune sette jobljardis upon stoolis, Marchol to sitte in Salamons see, What follwithe after no reason no justice. On the other hand, the allusions of Lydgate's contemporary, Audelay, to ' Marcol ' (ed. Ilalliwell, Percy Soc. pp. 31, 50), show that, though called 'the more fole,' he could still be associated with homely popular wisdom ; for he is made to ' warn ' Solomon 'hou homle hosbondmen ' are indignant at tlie sins of their rulers. v.] MARKOLF AS JESTER. 269 whose talk reeks in every line of the lupauar, can have been in Lydgate's mind when he made Markolf the 'founder of the order of fools.' The poem itself indeed directly gave the suggestion; for in at least one MS. it is entitled Dispiitatio?i dc Salomon le saogc el Marcolfe le foole\ The moral poet of the dullest age of English literature 3. was not however to pronounce the last word upon '^/'Y ''f^^ Markolf. The French version of the dialogue to which he owed his ill reputation, was still popular at the outset of the sixteenth century'; but it was now met by the formidable rivalry of a Latin dialogue, substantially equiva- lent to that on which both the old French poems had been founded, and enriched with the still more telling humour of the narrative which had gradually grown up about it in Germany. The Collaliones are hence- forth the standard edition of the Markolf story •^; the humour which had vanislied in serious morality on the one side, and in mere foulness on the other, reapjjears; the proverb-maker and the intimate oi pulains are e(iually replaced by the ingenious if gross jester of Solomon's court who, like Hans Pfriem, can neither be baiiislied nor put to death. 1 Kembic, u. s. p. 77 ff. Lydgate's use of this poem is, perhaps, not the earliest trace of it in En(,'laiu!. It w.is in any case in existence at least two centuries liefore him. Hut tin- Cerlantcn Saloiiioiils d Afarculphi, attributed with little reason to Waller Map, and included hy Kcmblc among the Knglish traces of the story, cannot be claimed with any certainly as I'^nglisii, and I therefore make no further allusion to it. ' The French Diclz was translated into Knglish early in the century, and twice printed, by Pynson in Lf)ndon and I, en in Antwerp, both original and translation are reprinted in Keinljle. ' The Diclz deSalemon el Afarcoitl ( = lhe second French version) were printed only twice, about 1500; the Collaliones, under various titles, went through at least a dozen editions. 2/0 THE ULENSPIEGEL CYCLE. [chap. The slight traces which remain of this third Markolf are in fact concentrated about these two incidents, his futile banishment and death-sentence. Transferred to the English jester Scogin, — whose history is an agglomera- tion of German and French, about a nucleus of native, facetiae, — the story of Markolf's dismissal after the cat and mouse trick, under a threat of loosing the dogs at him should he return, and the device of the hare by which he defies the dogs, became familiar English jests'. The still more celebrated story of his second banishment, the oven-trick by which he evades or re- venges it, and the final piece of humour which saves him from hanging, are also borrowed by the compiler of Scogin", with some very unskilful attempts at improve- ment ^ Both tricks became part of the standing stock of court-jester legends. Not only James I's. fool, Archie Douglas, but his tutor Buchanan, was credited with the oven-jest^. In addition to the instances quoted by Kemble, a trace of it occurs also in one of the most ^ Scoggin's Jests, ed. Hazlitt (O. Eng. Jest Books), p. 124 f. Cf. Kemble, u. s. p. 94. It must be observed that as the first extant edition of Scogin is only of 1626, it cannot be certainly assumed that this and the following story were originally contained in it. 2 Scoggin's yests, u. s. p. 152. This is quoted in full by Kemble, p. 94. * The servants commissioned to hang him are reduced to give up their task from the irrelevant and absurdly invented circumstance of having brought no food with them, while Markolf is abundantly supplied with 'sucket' and 'marmalade.' At nightfall they leave him, Markolf bidding them report to the king that he would not choose a tree. This is obviously weak, for in declining to choose he goes beyond his privilege, and the king might fairly have ordered his execution sine conditione ; whereas Markolf s position is unassail- able : he is perfectly ready to choose, as soon as a tree 'on which he would desire to be hanged' is found. ^ Kemble, p. 96. v.] MARKOLF AS JESTER. 2"/ 1 popular jest-books of the century, the Merry Talcs and Quick Answers (No. 84), where 'a mery felowe in high Almayn,' who has displeased the great lord of the country by his scoffing, is taken by the earl's servants and condemned to be hanged. When at the scaffold he begs to be allowed one favour, which the earl agrees on condition that it does not concern his life. He specifies a certain degrading kind of homage to be paid him by the earl for three mornings after his death. l"he earl demurs, and lets him go. This story appears to be a confused recollection of Markolf and Ulenspiegel. The circumstances somewhat resemble those of Markolf's proposed hanging, but the ' condition ' is eminently characteristic of Ulenspiegel, and is actually used by him in the 30th story of Copland's version'. There is here no 'lord' in question, but the town-council of Liibeck, and his fault is not 'scoffing,' like Markolf's, but cheating a wine-tapster, the degrading service being demanded of the tapster*. Such is, I believe, a complete account of the history of Markolf in England up to the end of the sixteenth century. If his name remained familiar in Clerniany, where Nigrinus (1571) and Bruno Seidelius (1589) could still mention the German Coliafiones among the most current of popular story-books", it was elsewhere remem- ' I-Tppcnlx;rp refers apropos of the Ulens]iicpol story to tlint of Markolf, but not to this mixed version in the A/my Talts. • For another allusion to the 'tree-choosing trick,' not quoted by Kcmbic, cf. Rabelais's Prologue to the posthumous fifth book of the Gari^anlua: 'Allez vous pendre,' he calls out to the Zoilcs emulatairs ct enviettx, — 'allcz vous pendre, cl vous mcsmcs choisissez arbrc pour pcnd.-igc; la hart nc vous fauldra mie.' ^ Cf. quotations in Gocdcke, p. 117. A Fastnachtspiel Marcolfiis was |H.rformed at I.uccm in 1546, ib. p. 303. 272 7:^05 ULENSPIEGEL CYCLE. [chap. bered only by curious scholars, like Burton, who uses the old contrast of the wise king and the gross boor to point a striking passage of the Anatomy^. Even in France, where calemboiir and espiegle still attest the celebrity of Markolf's brother jesters, pure Teutons though they were, no permanent trace has remained of Markolf himself, whose history owed to French pens so much of its early diffusion and of its early form. To these his more fortunate rivals I now turn. II. Der No such venerable pedigree as that of Markolf be- von'ka^ longs to the Pfarrer von Kalenberg. Whatever amount LENBERG. of legend may have gathered about him, the famous parson is a historical figure, whom a credible tradition localises as Weigand von Theben, at the court of Otto, Duke of Austria ^, in the early half of the fourteenth cen- tury. Kalenbergersdorf is still a village on the Danube, below the wooded hill of the same name, well known to Vienna excursionists. The historical Kalenberger is however hopelessly involved in the legendary reputation which he in part inherited, and also in some degree bequeathed. A full century earher we meet with a similar though still more shadowy figure, Pfaff Amis; and at about the same interval after the traditional date of his death, a continuation of his feats is ascribed to an adventurer who assumed the cassock after a wild career in the field, Peter Leu, 'der ander Kalenberger.' All of ^ Kemble, p. 93, points out this passage. * Tlie earliest authority for this appears to be Aventine (quoted by Koch, Co)npendium d. deutschen Lit, 1, 354), who probably how- ever took the statement from the book itself. v.] THE KALENBERGER. 273 these have certain traits in common; and the most favourite jest was the least monopoUsed. The world-old topic of riddles, for instance, though steadily tending to give way before the more robust humour of the Schwdnke, holds its ground in a few chosen forms inexhaustibly. Markolf, though overlaid with a later disguise of buffoon- ery, is still essentially a solver of riddles ; Amis's most striking feat is that of the soi-disaiit Abbot in Bijrger's ballad'; the Kalenberger not only solves the questions of his brother priest, but baffles him with others of his own. Even Ulenspiegel is, grotesquely enough, intro- duced (by an interpolator) into the university aula of Prague, and made to solve the still essentially similar problems of the doctors. A hitherto unexplained tradition made Amis an Englishman'; the Kalenberger however, like Leu, is an ' This is one of the many points at which the medieval Rogue shews traces of a descent from, or a connexion with, Wuotan. Markolf is plausibly connected with Mcrcurius, his Roman equi- valent; and the Abi)ot incident is paralled by Wuotan 's personation of blind Gest and askitii^ riddles of king Ileidrcck, a pardon to reward the i»roduction of any whicli lie fails to solve. Cf. our Robin llood, and the horse adventures of Kriar Rush. Simrock, D. Myth, § 127. ' According to the StrichaCre, at the beginning of his Avtis, (written between 1200 and 1250). Er hct hiis in Engellant In einer stat ze Tranis [Lappenberg conj. Tiiwf.t.] Und hiez der pfaffe Anils. 'juoted Gocd., § 4,5. The mystical character of the land beyond the North Sea fur tlu- flwcllcrson the cr)ntinent included at least two traits: it was an abode (i) of thcck, D.Afyth.y. 4,^7), (2) of (/-v.r and nif^httnares. The relation between cbres and the class of vagal)ond jesters like Amis is so intimate that the former association would be a sufficient mythologic grounrl for Amis' connexion with England. Cf. esp. H. iS 274 THE ULENSPIEGEL CYCLE. [chap. undoubted German, and a South German. Something of the geniahty of the South German temperament belongs to his jests, and the appreciable interval in other respects which separates him from the Saxon Ulenspiegel is not without a hint of the relative refinement of manners on the Danube and on the Elbe. The future Pfarrcr is described as coming up, a poor student, to the court of duke Otto. His very first feat is one familiar in legend. He arrives with an enormous fish for the duke; the porter stipulates for 'half the reward,' and the Kalenberger thereupon begs that this may consist in a sound flogging'. Less equivocal gifts follow, and, the cure of Kalenberg falling vacant, the needy student is enstalled. He soon becomes notorious with bishop, parishioners and duke. In his dealings with the last he is hardly distinguishable from the pure court-jester. The duke, for instance, has promised that 'nothing put upon his plate shall be taken from him,' — whereupon he procures z. larger wooden trencher, several feet across, and leads the duke's horse upon it. With the peasants, he is naturally still less scrupulous. Encountering a party of them, for instance, who desire an interview with the duke, he persuades them that the duke is bathing and can give Robin Goodfellow, and Friar Rush, the most mythic part of whose history occurs in England. (O. Schade in the Weimar yahrhich, V. 382). — I am not aware whether another singular trait which possibly contains a mythic element, has ever been explained ; the association of England with madness. Cf. the Gravedigger's allusion in Hainlet — ' [His going mad] will be no maUer there, for there the men are as mad as he,' [with Marston's Malcontent iii. i cit. ad loc. in Clar. Press Ed. — AWW.] and perhaps the following: 'Another did but peep into England, and it cost him more in good morrows blown up to him under his window by drums and trumpets, than his whole voyage : besides, he ran mad upon V.' Ford, The Sutis Darling, il. i. 1 This is told of the Kalenberger in Hebcl, Facet, ir. 54. v.] THE 'PARSON OF KALENBOROW: 275 them audience only in the bath ; they accordingly strip, and are conducted, not to the bath but to the banquet- chamber, where the duke is feasting with all his court. The bishop too plays a somewhat ignominious part, too gross to be dwelt upon; and his moral censorship of the loose-living parson, has no other result than that the latter, being required to replace his youthful housekeeper with 'a woman of forty,' chooses, as her equivalent, two oi twenty. The parson is finally transferred to another cure in Steiermark ; and with the title of Kalenberger he seems to have put off the jester also, for we hear nothing more of him but his peaceful death. The German book of the Pfaff's exploits is said to The Eng- have been compiled early in the fifteenth century by j.^„ ^. one Philip Frankfurter, at Vienna ; but the first distinct Aa/w- evidence of it occurs in the earlier years of the sixteenth'. '^"""• It continued highly popular throughout the century, and till the beginning of the great war". Probably about the end of Henry VIII. 's reign appeared an English version of it, under the title of * The Parson of Kalcnhorow.^ It is now known in only a single, and that a slightly muti- lated copy'l The first sheet has disappeared, and with it the whole of the introductory chapter (the adventure with the porter) and a few sentences of the next ; the last leaf seems to be also wanting, and perhaps contained the conclusion, which at present appears abrupt ; but in ' iJebcl, Facet. Ii. 54: '.Sactrrdos c.icci montis dc cujus facctc urhaneque dictis intcgri lihclli pcrscrij)!! sunt.' 'Jlie carliir iiiciilion by Hrandt (iV. .Sch. i.xxii. i.\: Wer yelz kan tryben sollich werck AIs trcil) dcr pfafT von K.iknbLrgk) docs not imply, as Gocdekcsay.s (p. 117), that the- book of his exploits alrc.-idy existed. ' It went through not less than four editions in the seventeenth century, the last in 1620. Gocdckc, p. 117. ' In the Douce collection of the liodlei.Tii. 18-2 276 THE ULENSPIEGEf. CYCLE. [chap. any case not more than a few lines. The substance of the history is therefore unimpaired. But, on tlie other hand, the English version is by no means a mere transla- tion ; but a free and independent handling of the story. Many incidents take a different complexion ; obscure hints are worked out, new motives supplied, entire narra- tives inserted, and that with a skill which gives them the air of being rather portions of a fuller original restored '. Variations As a fair specimen of the handling in the two versions m treat- j subjoin an extract from one of the earliest adventures vicnt. ■" of the newly appomted Pfarrer with his parishioners. Priest and people have been annoyed by the fall of rain through the defective roof of the church, which the community is too poor to repair. The former comes to their relief by undertaking the repair of the nave if they will repair the choir. They eagerly close with the bargain : — Without av7sement takinge as gredy jieople [they] answered their parson thus, saying Mr parson wc Ihanke you of your gode prefer, yf ye be so content we wyll cover the quere because we be nat al;le to cover the body of our churche, the parson hering this was right glad and said he was content. Than the paysans liegan the quere and ended it with all their diligence thinkynge that the parson sholde cover the rest, and when they had done and that theyr quere was covred they asked of their parson whan he wolde cover the remenant, and he answered and said my frendes yf ye have covred the quere ye have done that ye ought to do^ therefore be content for I am well content, I se wel that I shall stande drye, and out of the rayne to do Goddes service, and the best counsell that I can geve you is that ye cover up the remc- 1 Douce's pencil-notes in the Bodleian copy show that he speculated freely about its origin, but it does not appear thai he ever saw the German Volksbitch-, nor has any one else, so far as I know, compared them in detail. As the unique copy of the English version is still difficult of access, I need hardly apologise for devoting some space to the matter here. v.] THE 'PARSON OF KALENBOROW: 277 nant, and than ye shall stande drye also. The paysans hering this were mervelously angry and curssed the preste, and began to crye out upon h}nn the one with a mischefe the other with a vengeauns, the third hid the deveyll bere hym away. Thus they were all abashed of their parsons subtyll wyles and yet they were fayn to cover their churche themselfe for any cost that the preste wolde do thereto or cause to be done, for he stode dry ynough to do goddes ser\-ice, and thus he cared nat for them for they cared Ijefore as lytell for hym. The corresponding passage of the original runs thus : — V.% will doch recht sein, sie da sprachen, Und huben alle an zu lachen, Sandten des Richters Eidam ihm zu, Dass er den Pfarrherr bescheiden thu', W'ie sie den Chor, nach seiner Wahl, WoUten schon decken uberall iJcr Pfarrcr sprach : Es gefallt mir woll ; IJarnach ich mich auch richten soil, Dass Gottes Haus werde geziert, Und das lang Ilaus gedecket wird. Die IJauern ciltcn niit dem Chor, Dass sie dem I'farrhcrr krimen vor, Sie eilten mit dem neuen Dach Dcr I'farrcr verzog da sein Sach W'ol mit (1cm Decken manche Wochen. ' Herr ihr haijt nicht also gesprochen,' Dess sollet ihr euch immer schamen. So scharf sie da in ihn kamen Dass ihn da ganz erziirnt sein Muth, Er sprach : ' Es diinkct Ymz\\ nicht gut Und dass ich hie im Chor steh' truckeii, So dcckt nun selbcr zu die I-ucken, Dess ihr an mich da bcgehrct.' Ein jcdcr sich da gesegnet' Unrl sprach zu dcrselbigcn Erist : Ein seltsam Mann dcr I'farrhcrr ist. Er sprach: Cicscgncl ihr cuch davor Ich steh' wohl sichcr in dem Chor 278 77/A UI.ENSPIEGEL CYCLE. [chap. Vor Regen und dazu vor Wind : Versorgt euern Ort, ihr lieben Kind, W'ollt ihi- nicht in dem Wetter stahn: Nicht besser ich euch rathen kann.' Er liesz sich die Bauern nicht erschrecken: Die Kirche miissten sie wol decken, Wollten sie da nicht werden nass Wic unniitz mancher Bauer wass^ The divergence of these two narratives is evidently not merely of the kind which results from the conversion of verse into prose. The English writer has told the story quite in his own way, adding and omitting, softening and heightening, and perceptibly modifying the play of character. His conception of the relation of priest and people betrays the age of the Protestant Revolution. The German villagers are still the abject inferiors of their priest, and even at the moment of discovering his gross treachery, go no further than to cross themselves with a half awe-struck ejaculation : * Our parson is a strange man.' The Englishman clearly felt this mildness intolerable, and his peasants are accordingly made to be ' marvelously angry,' to ' curse the priest,' and ' cry out upon him' — 'with a mischief,' and ' a vengeance,' — 'and the third bade the devil bear him away.' A similar touch serves to adapt the parson to his new circumstances. Towards the more childlike peasants of the German tale he is blunt and overbearing; he meets their remon- strances with open anger {i^ariz erzilrnf): ' if they don't like him to stand dry while they are wet, they can help them- selves.' But to his less ceremonious English parishioners he shews from the first an ironical respect, culminating in the bland sarcasm, of which there is no hint in the Volks- Imch: ' My friends, if ye have covered the quire ye have ' From the reprint in Hagen: Narreiibnch, p. 526 ff. v.] THE 'PARSON OF KALENBOROW: 279 done that ye ought to do, therefore be content, for I am well content.' In other company it is the parson who is made to display the vigour of abuse which the translator evidently missed at certain points of his original. The neighbour- ing priest 'der auch gar weise wass, und dauchte sich auch also spitzig,' comes to test the Kalenberger with hard riddles. Foiled at every point he puts a good face upon his defeat. 'Well, well,' he cries, 'I am beaten;' but you must make amends for the injury by giving me your lasting friendship, — and some of your best wine ! ' And the Kalenberger vows he shall have it. This genial trait, together with, still more strangely, all the detail of the wit-combat which it closes, wholly disappears from the English version : — ' In short conclusion, they argued sore, but the parson held the overhand, whereof he had grete honour. 'I'hen said he to the old priest : Thou gray-heded fole, thou hadest better not to have argued,' &c. ' Now no more of this, said the parson,' and then the Kalenberger consents as before, to make merry over their good cheer. IJut more substantial variations remain. In ihc fifth ^ddittonal . . • 1 • atones. story of the Volkslmcn, for mstance, a repulsive trick is told of the parson, which, as it stands, is a mere unpro- voked piece of buffoonery. In the iMiglish version, however, this tale is provided with a long Vorgesc/nc/th', the effect of which is to make the trick an act of vengeance upon his rlerk'. A more striking case occurs on the jjarson's summons tf) his bishop. The Volhsbiicli says siinjily : lir war gclicusam dcm liiscliop Kr kam gcrillcn und gL-gangL-n, ' The clerk has given him a ciuack prescription. I cannot traco any original for this story. 280 THE ULENSriEGEL CYCLE. [chap. but in no way indicates the solution to the riddling brevity of the second line. In the English version, how- ever, the whole story is given at length. The parson sadeled a lowe lytell mare somewhat hyer than three horse loves, and so lept he into the sadell and set him on his journey with his one fote hanginge on the grounde and the other as yf it had been cast over the sadell, and so come to the bishop Courte where as the bishop lend before the gate; and the bishope thus seyinge laughd hartcly and asked of the parson how he came so r)'dinge; the parson answered and sayde, my lorde I ryde nat, the bishop asked him, how then, goest thou on fote? he sayde nay my Lorde, I come hangyng on my Mare unto your grace, the which shall avantage me but lytell. The bishop hearing this went away and thought he had ben folyisshe. The quibble in this story was no doubt a very familiar piece of Volkswitz ; yet the English version has not the air of a deliberate interpolation; and would an inter- polator in the middle of the sixteenth century have thought of the familiar description of the bishop ' leaning before the gate ' of his Court ? A third story, fragmentary in the current versions of the Volksbuch, but completed in the English version is that which narrates how the ' witziger und spitziger Pfaflf' of the riddle-contest is induced by his former opponent to exchange his own more desirable benefice for that of Kalenberg. The Kalenberger privately distri- butes groschcii among the peasantry, with directions to bring them as an offering to mass, and the strange priest makes no difficulty in consenting to become the perma- nent recipient of so much generosity. On discovering the trick he gladly purchases the right to resume his own benefice. In all but a single known version there is here an obvious lacuna, the parson's arrangement with his peasants being abruptly cut short at the opening line : Wist ir nit was im breii ist ? Hagen, in reprinting the v.] KALENBERGER AND SCOGIN. 28 1 Pfarrer for his Narrenbuch, perceived the lacuna, but unfortunately read this line, Wiszt ihr was in dem hen tst ? and accordingly explains that the parson makes the peasants 'thrash hay, and bring the payment to mass'.' It is obvious that this, as well as being nugatory, spoils the jest by making the peasants earn their contributions. The completion of the lacuna, with the true reading, was first given by Lappenberg from an old edition which he places about 1 500". But the English version had long before this discovery satisfactorily supplied the gap, in the chapter sufficiently described by its heading: ' Howe the parson gave shillynges to every one in hys parryshe to the entent that they should offer it the next daye at the olde prestis masse for to begyle hym to cause him chaunge benefices ^' This is described in some detail, and the delusion of the ' old priest ' follows as before. With the single, fragmentary old print which I have Ot/ier described, at I fear tedious length, the career of the j^'aicn- Kalenberger in England opens, and closes. His failure l'<:>'^'r in is the more remarkable, as it occurred at the very time when the current tales of two heroes of native jest who strongly recall him, were formed into a collection which kept their memory green for a century, — the scholarly Scogin antl the merry vicar, Skelton. Several of his feats no doubt crept into English literature, but only through the accident of their having been borrowed to form a patch in the motley of the less worthy but far ' Narrcnbuch, Pfarrer v. A'a/cnl>erir^ note. ' Wiener yahrhiicher, Hd. 40, Anz. p. 19. No hint is here fjivcn that this edition cont.^ins any of the other adilitions of the I'>nf;lis)i Version. * An unimportant trifle is that the amount for which the Kalen- bcrpcr consents to resume his old benefice is forty instead of liiirty pounds. 282 THE ULENSPIEGEl. CYCLE. [chap. more famous figure to whom I shall immediately turn. The German compiler of Ulenspiegel enriched his hero with not less than five jests from Amis and two from the Kalenberger', three of which were retained by the more meagrely clad English Ulenspiegel. Of the five stories from Amis — the mock painting, No. 27, the solution of the rid- dles proposed to him by the university of Prague, No. 28, the teaching of the ass to read, No. 29, (both ludicrously inappropriate to the character of the unlettered boor, about whom universities felt little curiosity), the cure of the patients in the Niirnberg hospital (by threatening to burn the last to leave it), No. 1 7, and the adventure as relic-monger, No. 31, — all but the third reappear in the English version, (as Nos. ig, 20, 13 and 21). Of the two taken from the Kalenberger, one reappears in the English Ulenspiegel: the offer to fly from a tower- top (No. 14, Copland No. 10); and from Ulenspiegel this scion of the Kalenberger returned once more to his own kin, for the story was embodied in the famous Jests of Scogin^ 1 ' Mit zulegung etlicher fabuln des pfaff Amis unci des pfaffen von dem Kalenberg.' Ulensp. Vorrede (ed. Lappenberg). Lappen- bcrg, (ib. p. 354), gives the references to tliese. They arc given, incompletely, by Kemble, Sol. and Saturn, p. 281. '■^ Hazlitt's edition (Old English Jest-books), p. 127. It is clear that the compiler of Scogin drew from Ulenspiegel and not from the Parson of Kalenborov). The promise to fly is in Ulenspiegel a whimsical buffoonery without motive or pretext : in the Pfarrherr it is a device to get rid of the parson's bad wine, which the thirsty spectators readily drink while they await his appearance. The story in Scogin shows no trace of this motive; and though its scene is transferred to France, and its effect heightened by the introduction of a Frenchman who, piqued by Scogin's failure, actually does fly, in other respects it closely resembles Ulenspiegel. — It must be added that as the first extant edition of Scogin is of 1626, it cannot be assumed that this story, any more than those Ijorrowed from Markolf, belonged to the original collection. v.] ULENSPIEGEL. 283 III. What the Kalenberger is to Lower Austria, and Leu Ulen- to Swabia, Ulenspiegel is to Saxony, Hanover and Bruns- ^•'^'^^^l- wick. Magdeburg is the centre of his terrain, and thence northwards to Luneburg and Rostock, westwards to Hil- desheim and Hanover, southwards to Erfurt, he is every- where at home. He has been well described as a wily peasant who inverts the usual relation of town and coun- try by making victims of the citizens. He does not practice exclusively upon townsmen; dukes, physicians, priests and monks, are occasional though rarer victims; but the chief sufferers are on the whole the typical men of the burgher-class, — the tailor, the baker, the black- smith, the shoemaker in their shops, the huckster in the market-place, the ivirth and wirthhi in the tavern. He takes service with a shoemaker, for instance, and obeys his master's orders literally by cutting out his shoes very large or very small {v. 27'); with a tailor, and being required to make a ' wolf — a current name for a kind of peasant's cloak — cuts it to the shajjc of a wolf (f. 29). He inveigles a priest into a virtual disclosure of what had been told him in confession, and then extorts his horse as the price of silence (k. 25). He cheats a farmer of green cloth by laying a wager that it is blue, and supporting his view by the aid of corrupted witnesses (a. 68, F. 34"). At Magdeburg the flying adventure ' A = thc niimljcr u{ tlic story in the Strasslnir}^ edition of 15 19 ; K = thal in f'opland's ICnglish version, containing; about half the talcs. - This is superficially like the Italian story in the Mrny Talcs and Quick .1 nrn'crs (No. 58), ' Of the ff)le that llmuyht himself dead,' — where the 'fole' is successively met by a number of con- federates who remark on his ill looks, until he is finally induced, on 284 THE ULENSPIEGEL CYCLE. [chap. already mentioned affords him a laugh at the whole town (a. 14, F. 10). Another well-known legend with many parallels tells of his mock alms to twelve blind men; each imagines the money to be in the keeping of the rest, and it is only at the close of a substantial feast in the nearest tavern that they discover the true nature of Ulenspiegel's SoJpov aStopov (a. 71, f. 35)'. But his most numerous victims are the innkeepers. He presents one of his hostesses, at the close of dinner, with an account 'for the labour of eating it' (a. 33, f. 22), and punishes another for her rash declaration that * penniless guests must pay with their coats,' by flaying her favourite dog and presenting her with the skin (a. 82, f. 37). Here, as often, Ulenspiegel's humour, such as it is, is lost in his brutality. In another of his tavern-tales, one of the best, it is over elaborate. Three guests who come in late one evening after a delay caused by wolves, are mer- cilessly scoffed at by their host for their timidity. Ulen- spiegel thereupon goes out, kills a wolf, brings its body to the inn the same night, sets it up beside the fire, and then loudly calls for drink. The host on going into the Sf/i/^e to fetch it, finds the wolf in possession of his \ hearth, and rushes out in abject terror, only to be met their authority, to believe himself dead. A much closer parallel however is that of Scogitis yesis, p. 56, where the trick is trans- ferred from cloth to sheep. In the latter form the story is very old. It occurs in Bromyard and Pauli, and the former was the direct source of Scogin. 'I know not,' says Mr Hazlitt in his note, 'whether this story occurs before.' I cannot help remarking on the singular conception of editorship which allowed the editor of the Old English Jest-books to neglect so obvious a source as Bromyard. ^ This story, like those of the jiriest's horse and the Ijlue cloth, was turned into a Fastnachtsspicl by Hans Sachs. Etclenspiegcl niit den blinden is reprinted in Goedeke and Tittmann's selection of his Fastnachtsspiele. v.] THE ENGLISH 'HOVVLEGLASS: 285 by the taunts of his despised guests of the evening before (a. 78, f. 36). No copy has ever been found of the Low-Saxon History of original of Ulenspiegel, evident traces of which remain ^'''^ ^°°^ • in the early High German versions. The first extant versions take us to Strassburg, where in 15 15 the earliest ' known edition, and in 15 19 that till recently regarded as such and attributed to Murner, were published'. From Strassburg it passed to Augsburg (ed. 1540) and Erfurt (ed. 1532 — 38) and northwards to Koln (Servais Krufifter's un- dated edition), thence to Antwerp (undated ed., 1520 — 30), and from Antwerp to Paris and London. The Antwerp edition, — a cento containing about one-half the stories of the original, — was the basis of the French version of 1532 and its successors', and of the English version printed, probably between 1548 and 1560, by William Copland''. It was therefore only a mutilated Ulenspiegel which Copland'^ Copland introduced to his countrymen. On the other hand Hmolc- his Dutch original contained one new story, not in the Strassburg versions, but occurring as an evident interpo- lation in the undated KJiln edition of Kruflfter'', that — ' For the bibliography I am dependent on Lappenberg (pp. 147 fT. ), as corrected and supi)lcmented by Scherer (Qucllen u. Forschuvi;c7t No. 2t, pp. 27 fT. and 7S (T.), — the latter a most brilliant piece of scholarship. The .Strassliurg edition of 1515, in London, was unknown to Lappenberg. Scherer shows by a comparison of its readings with those of 1519, that the basis of both was still a Ilii;!! ficrman edition. The original I-f)W Saxon is thus .separated from us by at least two removes. ^ Ulenspiegel... Nouvellemenl translate ct corrif^e dc Ffatnant en Francnys. (Paris, t53i.) * Hcnuleglass. Here bci^nucth a iitcryc Jest of a man called //inuUi;lass, and of many marvelous thinges and jestcs that he did in his lyffe &c. * .Scherer, u.s. p. 29. Lappenberg overlooked (his. 286 THE ULENSPIEGEL CYCLE. [chap. perhaps taken ultimately from Markolf — of the young Ulenspiegcl's answers to a question about the way, {Copland, No. 2)'; and Copland himself added a copy of verses, which deserve a moment's notice as the first indication of the impression made by Ulenspiegel upon an English mind. It is difficult to suppose that the par- ticular English mind can have been that of the translator, for they stand in complete antithesis to the history which they close. Instead of adding another to Ulen- spiegcl's feats, they introduce him holding a solemn disputation, — in which for the first time in his life he is distinctly worsted. The undisguised fellow-feeling with which his pranks had been told, passes abruptly into stern reproof; the genial adventurer who compiled the History, and in whom it was at least plausible to suspect Thomas Murner, is suddenly replaced by a serious, staid, and probably Protestant, London citizen, who doubtless wrote with a purely moral aim, and a desire to put the antidote within easy reach of the poison. The verses form a separate chapter, No. 44, immediately preceding the final chapter which gives Ulenspiegcl's death : — ' How Howleglass came to a scholar to make verses with hym to the use of reason ' (No. 44). In seven-line stanzas, a form of literary art of which the boor of Kneit- lingen is elsewhere quite innocent, he urges successively ^ In the Dutch version headed : Hoe Vlespieghel antwoorde eenen man die nae den week vraghede. Kemble, who notices the analogy to Markolf, adds, by way of explaining why this story does not occur in the High German : ' The German version knew well enough that these questions and answers belonged of right to another tale, and they are therefore not admitted into it' (p. 322). This reads oddly in the face of the compiler's own frank admission that he had added several stories from older books. These nice scruples have not counted for much in the history of Jest-books. v.] HOWLGLASS IN SCOTLAND. 28/ the irresistible might of Mars, Venus and Bacchus ', and the scholar answers his grave objections like a moral poet. This is the strain of the English Ulenspiegel : — Venus a god of love most decorate, The flour of women and lady most pure, Lovers to concorde she doth aggregate, With parfyte love as marble to dure, The knotte of love she kniites on them sure, With friendly amite and never to discorde By dedes thought cogitation nor worde. Scholar. Not to discorde? yet did I never see Know nor hear tell of lovers such twaine. But some fault ther was, learne this of me, &c. But this rigorous view of Ulenspiegel gained little llmolglass footing in England, or to put it more accurately, his ''' ^^''^' name was never degraded as Markolf's had been, into a mere proverb for moral obliquity. In Scotland, sin- gularly enough, the opposite was the case ; the repulsive associations of the name appear to have there altogether extruded its humour ; the word became a taunt if not an insult, and was introduced into the most acrid region of the polemical vocabulary. The very distortions it imdcrwcnt show that it had become an everyday word in the lips of men for whom its original meaning was lost^ ' So Lydgatc, whose altitude towards Markolf is very similar, associates the 'order of fools' with the jiagan gods: Bachus and Juno hath set abrochc the loune. ' Its regular .Scottish form was Iloltiglass, cf. Jamicson's article, where the information about Ulenspiegel, even in the Mnglish version, is still, in the iS8o edition, drawn wholly from Siccvens, Keid, and — Menage! The instance which he gives from Spotiswood (' He called them holliglasscs, cormoraunts, and men of no re- ligion') and those in .Scmpill's .Satirical ballari on Patrick Adamson, archbishop of .St Andrews (cf. the .Scinpill balladsy iCdinb. 1882) 288 THE ULENSPIEGEL CYCLE. [chap. /// Eng- land . In England, on the contrary, Ulentspiegel gravitated at once to the class of native jesters to whom he properly belonged. Under his English name he lost all foreign associations, and became an inseparable member of the brotherhood of Scogins and Skeltons, Robin Cloodfel- lows and Robin Hoods, from whom however he was always clearly distinguished by the enigmatic symbolism of the ' Owl on fist ' and ' Glass at wrist ' with which he was invariably represented. His History took its place with theirs in the library of Captain Cox ; and, if a somewhat doubtful piece of evidence may be trusted, all three, with the new accession of Lazarillo de Tormes, were keenly relished by Edmund Spenser (which needs good evidence) and roundly abused by Gabriel Harvey (which is credible enough) '. It is therefore perfectly natural to find them, a generation later, associated on the stage, and Owlglass called in by Skelton, in his finest ' tinkUng ' verse, to play almost the only role still both fall not before the last quarter of the century; Adamson was appointed to the see only in 1575, (Spotiswood, s. anno). ^ Cf. Collier, Bibliographical Catalogue, s. v. Howlglass, where a MS. note in the Bodleian copy of the book is quoted, which Collier, judged to be in the handwriting of Ilarvey, and to allude to the poet. In any case it is a contemporary testimony, of some interest, assuming of course that it is genuine, — a proviso never quite superfluous where Collier is concerned. — 'This Howleglasse, with Skoggin, Skelton and Lazarillo, given to me at London, of Mr Spensar, xx. Dec. 1578, on condition that I would bestowe the reading of them on or before the first of January imediately ensuing; otherwise to forfeit unto him my Lucian in fower volumes, whereupon I was the rather induced to trifle away so many howers as were idely overpassed in running thorowgh the foresaid foolish bookes; wherein me thought that not all fower togither seemed comparable for false and crafty feates with Jon Miller, whose witty shiftes and practices are reported among Skelton's Tales.' 1 v.] BEN JONSON. 289 available in the mature Jacobean drama for a clown of his rough breed, — tliat of leader in the Bacchanalian fun of a Jonsonian Anti-masque. I give the often - quoted passage below'. Even in the Anti-masque, however, Owlglass was necessarily like every one else, little more than a show- figure in a pageant ; the wily peasant has no scope for his jests, and is introduced less in his capacity of jester than because his grotesque oddity of appearance con- tributed (like the monstrosities of a procession), to the picturesqueness of the general effect. With his usual minute care therefore, Jonson described every detail of the Owlglass he had in view, — the crooked, apish boy with fool's cap and feathers, glass and owl, astride on his father's ass and probably, like the original Ulen- spiegel, turning round to grimace at the groundlings^ This introduction into the Fortunate Isles is no doubt Ulenspiegel's highest literary distinction. Once before, however, Jonson had made more than one casual dra- ' The Masi/uc of the Fortunate Isles, 1626: An Ilowleglass To come to pass f )n his father's ass ; There never was I'y fl.-iy nor night, A finer sight With feathers upright 111 his homed caj), .•\n(l crooked shajie, Much Uke an ape With owl on fist, And gl.nss at his wrist. * Thus the second story, which Jonson evidently had in view. On this ground I describe him as a l)oy, though I .un not confident that Jonson meant this. H. 19 290 THE ULENSPIEGEL CYCLE. [chap. matic use of his name. When Sir Epicure Mammon, in the Alchemist, visits the laboratory where his base metal is being turned into gold, Subtle calls to his servant Face under the feigned name, 'Ulenspiegel'; and to Mammon he continues to be 'Ulen' to the end'. Jonson was the most finished adept of all his contemporaries in the irony of dramatic nomenclature ; and he has given no better proof of it than in making one of the most cautious and crafty charlatans in literature conceal his identity from his most credulous victim under the name of a world-famous rogue ^ Sioriesbor- But the literary history of Ulenspiegel does not end 'ukn- "'" here. His general likeness to the family of English Spiegel. jesters made it inevitable that their histories should here and there be enriched from his ; and on the other hand, he had points of divergence from them all sufficiently attractive to palpably warp, in at least one case, the English tradition. Like Markolf, he was laid under contribution by the wholly unscrupulous compiler of Scogin ; for a feat indeed which his own compiler had drawn from the Kalenberger ; and which was as much in place among tlie freaks of an Oxford scholar, as of a German priest. Ikit there was a different class of Ulenspiegel's jests, entirely his own, less easily assimilated to those of any English jester, — those of the mischievous apprentice, or servant. Skelton and Scogin are at bottom scholars, ' The Alchemist II. i etc.; Poetaster III. i. These passages, like the last, have been referred to in almost all English accounts of Ulenspiegel. 2 A still more remarkable piece of irony, over which he had no control, has associated Jonson himself with Ulenspiegel, whose upright burial (a. 95, F. 48) is prol)ab]y at the root of the similar tradition once (if not still) current among the Westminster vergers, of. Quarterly Rev., No. 41, p. 108, and Lappenberg's note to the chapter in question. v.] ROBIN GOODFELLOW. 29 1 with a strong dash of the court-fool ; they cheat all classes from^rhe king to the alewife; but they never take service. Nor, it need not be said, does Robin Hood. Robin Goodfellow is properly an elf, who rewards and torments men, but assumes no direct relation to them. Ulenspiegel, on the other hand, owes as much of his fame to his brief bondage with tailor and shoemaker, as to his roving adventures in taverns. And it was precisely the figure of Robin Goodfellow, uncertain and fluctuating in outline as it was, which took the impress of this new influence'. The early life of Robin (the first part of his ' Merry Pranks') is in great part modelled on Ulenspiegel; his mother's difficulties with him at six years old are those of Ulenspiegel's father^ and they are followed by the ad- venture as tailor's man, — closely modelled on the 48th tale of Ulenspiegel, — the humour of which is of a kind as familiar to Ulenspiegel as it is alien to Goodfellow — that of taking a man precisely at his word\ But the child Robin was not the father of the man, and the ' second part ' introduces us to a wholly different being Robin Goodfellow the 'sprite,' who is distinguished from Ulenspiegel hardly more by his fairy privilege of trans- formation, than by his fundamental good-nature. * He alwayes did helpe those that suffered wrong, and never would hurt any but those that did wrong to oliiersV Ulenspiegel consistently follows the exactly opposite * I follow here the suggestion of Lappenberg, u. s. p. 228. " Ulenspiegel, chap. 11.: whether put hefore or hehind liis father when he rides, the boy's behaviour is equally disreputable. ' The tailor in each case leaves his man with a hasty order: 'wirf die ermel an den rock,' — 'Whij) thou on the sleeves:' Ulen- spiegel spends the night in throwing the sleeves at the coat, and Robin in lashing them to pieces. Cf. Merry Pranks, &c., ed. Collier, p. S. •• Merry /'ranks, u. s. p. 21. 19 2 292 THE ULENSPIEGEL CYCLE. [chap. principle, and the first Robin was only a second Ulen- spiegel. In the much more remarkable story which will be discussed in the next section, we shall see the motive of the 'malicious servant' carried out far more consistently', and with supernatural associations wholly wanting to Ulenspiegel. And so far as Ulenspiegel's literary in- fluence is at all traceable in after times, it would seem to have told in great part in the direction of this class of jest. The solitary later translation in English^ (1709) may well have stimulated the chap-book biographers who had their seat in the purlieus of St Aldermary's. Several of their heroes show an unmistakeable family likeness to Ulenspiegel. The scholarly or clerical jester of the sixteenth century is apparently extinct, and his place is taken by a bourgeois tribe of servants and tradesmen, — Tom Tram the apprentice, Tom Stitch the tailor, Tom Long the carrier, whose victims are for the most part their employers^ But they owe to Ulenspiegel at most a general hint ; not one of their adventures, so far as my observation goes, is borrowed from, or modelled upon his ; and though hardly at all superior in refinement or in point, they belong for the most part to a more civilised and artificial state of society. On the whole it must be ^ Two stories of Ulenspiegel were, as we shall see, transferred to Friar Rush, those in which he appears in a parallel situation, as servant in a convent. * The German Rogue, or the Life and Meriy Adventures... of Tiel Eulespiegel . . .y\.?ii\& English from the high Dutch. London, 1709. — An article in the Quarterly Reviau, No. 41, p. loS (1819), in a brief notice of Ulenspiegel, confounds this with Copland's. The notice abounds with other errors, not worth pointing out. " Editions in the Brit. Museum. The Quarterly Reviewer above cited, seems to me to go too far in asserting that 'these penny histories are all imitated from [Ulenspiegel's] jests.' v.] FRIAR RUSH. 293 said that the fortunes of Ulenspiegel among us since the 1 6th century, have been, like those of Markolf from the first, one more instance of the insularity which explains so much in the literary as in the political history of England. In Germany, in the Netherlands, in France even, its popularity has never died out, and in all three countries the whole interval between the gothic prints of three hundred years ago and the critical editions of to- day, is bridged over by a series of chap-book versions continuous enough to show that they never ceased to be read. England, on the contrary, during the whole period from Copland to Thoms and Ouvry (who reprinted it twenty years ago) witnessed but one attempt to revive it, — the translation made in the heyday of that Augustan age which has left so many strange evidences of its ap- preciation for the robust crudities of the sixteenth century', and none more strange than this. IV. Markolf, the Kalenberger and Ulenspiegel, had all some Friak degree of novelty. None of tlKin had a precise parallel in ' I will merely recall the furore created by Fatistus in 1727 and the new translation of the Grobianiis in 1739. -' The active discussion of the Rush story dates from Thoms, who discovered the Knglish version of 1620 among Donee's hooks, aiul reprinted it in the Early Eni^lisli Prose romanccSy\(A. \ (i877an(l 1857). Soon afterwards Wolf and Kndlicher discovernl two editions of a H. ficrm. version at V'ienna, and rej^rinled them with a sug- gesti%'e introjluction {Von Hruodcr Rausc/icn, Vienna, 1X35). In the Weimar Jahrbuch Bd. <;, Oskar Schade reprinted the Low Saxon version, the only one known in (German l)efore Wolf and Endlicher, with the best critical account of the legend yet given. Finally the Danish version of 1555 was reprinted l>y C. Uniun, linuier Russcs Historie (Kjobenh. i8''i8), with an introduction, not comparable in any way to Schade's, but containing sonn- new 294 T^HE. ULENSPIEGEL CYCLE. [chap. English legend ; each represented a variety or shade of humour which if not unprecedented was unfamiliar. But tliis novelty lay within narrow limits. The jester Markolf was only a more genial variety of Markolf the ' fool,' who had been familiar for centuries ; the Kalen- berger is a Skelton with a faculty for riddles ; Ulenspiegel a plebeian and unlearned Scogin. In complete con- trast with these was the story which remains to be dis- cussed. Neither English history nor English folklore contained anything at all resembling the legend of Friar Rush in its original form ' ; if his jests were of an ordinary type, they derived piquancy from his wholly novel personality and situation. And when we add to this that his History is not a mere loose string of anecdotes, but a connected narrative with at least a glimmering of dramatic climax and catastrophe, it is not surprising that he should have altogether outdone his rivals in literary importance. The story of the disguised devil sent to corrupt a convent of monks with delicious fare, had an element of the same fascination which made the Faustus legend unforgetable ; and, as will presently appear, it played a part not very far inferior in the English drama. 7'/.^ The historical germ of the Rush story is extremely historical obscure. Its scene was undoubtedly the most famous of Danish monasteries, the Cistercian convent of Esrom, planted by bishop Aeskil, in the early days of the Order, beside the wood-girt and legend-haunted Esrom lake^ suggestions. Nyerup, Thiele, Grimm and others, who only com- manded a part of the material, will be referred to in the notes. ^ The relation of Rush to Robin Goodfellow will be discussed below. - Hans de Ilofman, Samlinger af...Fttndationer, T. VII. p. 155. The fact that the lake had its legend is not irrelevant. I have not met with the mention of it elsewhere. 'Gamle Folk beretter,' says Hofman, 'at denne Soe har lilforn v?eret, ligesom en anden Engbond, v.] THE HISTORICAL RUSH. 295 The dissolution of the convent at the Reformation, led to the destruction of most of its antiquities ; but in Pontoppidan's day there still remained a huge gridiron and cauldron, and the tradition of a portrait, with in- scription, of Rus the friar and cook'. The inscription, which has often been quoted, throws very little light on the legend'. At most the luxurious tastes attributed to the old priest, and the 'gray horse' which he bequeathed to tlie convent offer a slight foot- hold. The latest editor of any of the extant versions, Chr. Bruun, has attempted to supplement this meagre information from the scanty records of Esrom in the royal archives. A document of 137 1 preserved there (Royal Library, gl. kgl. Saml. 4, 3124) contains an account of one Johannes Kraffse, a monk of Esrom, who ' at the devil's suggestion ' had abandoned his orders and returned to the world''; the abbot applied for his excommunication, fuially proclaimed in full form by the archbishop of Lund. This does not appear to hostel, og at en Kiist den Tiid sagde til Host-Folkene: 'Staaer op at Ia.'sc, lisse begynder at l)la:.st*;' tlcrefter forlod ended Moeson, andre l>lev af Vandet drukncde. ' No douhl many other lakes of comparatively recent formation have similar myths. A good popular description of Ksrom antl its legends is in lloiger Bnuin's Cainle IJanske Minder, i. 294 fT. ' I'ontoppidan says h\n\s<:\i [Datiske Alius \l. y. T,f,): 'der skal endnu findes Hroder Kusis Jerngryde og Kist.' llofmann Sainlhv^er &c. u. s. adds, rather naively, apropos of the unusual size of the implements, that ' the human hones dug up there show that ilie men of that day were of larger stature than now.' • Hie requicscit Jon l'ra;st Qui semper comedebat del biest, &C. ' C. Hruun, firod,r Riisscs Historic, Kjf)l)enh. 1868, p. i_> ff. The MS. is difficult to read, and particular words are doubtful, but the sense is clear: instiganti scilicet dyaboio relictis religione et hnliitii monachal! ad secundam [leg sa€cnltnn\..cs\. reversus, i\:c. 296 THE ULENSPIEGEL CYCLE. [chap. me to give much lielp. That the name corresponds with that of the epitaph counts for Httle ; particularly as the two lives, so far as appears, were wholly different. Jo- hannes' abandonment of his vows is not recorded of Rus ; while the apparent reference of the act to diabolic suggestion, need mean no more than that the writer applied to Johannes' sin the current theological ex- planation of sin in general. Finally, Bruun's attempt to derive the name Rausch and Rus from this Kraffse — ' bold ' he himself calls it — is I think inadmissible. Kraffse or Krmise might become in a German mouth Rausch, whence Rus by simple translation. But the loss of a sound so congenial to ' German lips ' as k, in a favourite combination like kr, is not to be so easily disposed of But while this, as it stands, is certainly not an ade- quate hypothesis it must be admitted to be the nearest approach to one yet produced. There only remain the trilling suggesiions of the epitaph. We find here not the slightest suggestion of 'diaboHca instigatio'; on the other hand the semper comedebat det bcest offers a slight foot-hold for the essential trait, prominent in every form of the legend, that it was by means of the sixth deadly sin that the devil sought the corruption of the convent. 'Jon Praest' was clearly conspicuous for his good living. We cannot however suppose him to have stood alone, a solitary epicurean in an ascetic community ; the common life of a monastery excluded so complete a contrast ; one would rather imagine him to have taken a leading part in the moie luxurious furnishing of the Esrom table which, there as elsewhere, replaced the early rigour of the Cistercians, to have been the Luther of a dietetic Reformation, in whom his opponents readily discovered an emissary of the devil. v.] THE DANISH LEGEND. 297 This would agree with what evidently represents the oldest form of the legend known to us, the Danish prose Mcirchen printed by Thiele'. It tells simply that the devil, seeing the virtuous life of the monks of Esrom, assumed human shape, knocked at the door, and was admitted as cook's boy". A favourable opportunity enabling him to dispose of his chief in a boiling cauldron he is appointed to his place. The virtue of the convent is now at his mercy ; and it is not long before the monks forget prayer and fasting over Ruus' exquisite cookery. Strife and wantonness creep in, and the monks are all but lost when a peasant, who has involuntarily over- heard a conclave of devils discussing their agent Ruus, discloses his true nature^ The abbot, summoning all the monks into the church, seizes Ruus, transforms him into a red horse, and commits him to the power of hell. Such was probably the whole of the legend in its strictly Danish form. In the course of the fifteenth century it passed into Lower Saxony, was reproduced in verse with large additions, and this ampler version of the legend was then again transferred, about the middle of the sixteenth century, to its original home. The history of the myth in Denmark is tiicnccforth blended with that of the developed and in part foreign ' Piinskc l-'olkcsai^n II. ^»8 ; Wolf and FndliclKT p. xviii. Ii is {^iven, in translation, hy Schaile u. s. and Tlionis. • To appreciate the significance of this clioicc of good living as the methon offers it a temptingly easy prey. 'I'he former is un- doubtedly the stronger, as well as the more original, motive ; there is an evident awkwardness in the despatc li of a tempter to men already committed to at least one deadly sin. If it were doubtful, tiiere are two testimonies ' The devil saw hvor fromt og dydigt tnunkene levede paa Esrom kloiter. Thi.s contrast is noticed by liiuun. * Thus the I.ow-.Saxon : D.ir wercn nionikcn in ein del se wercn junl< und d.ir to gel svarte cappen drogen se dAr se en ficncden pade nicht en hfir. ein islik liadde dar ein wif: des qiiam under se manigen kif. Tf IcvenI de (hivrl wol vut the translator saw his oi)por- tunity, and the story of Rush's journey is introduced by a sketch of the diabolic council which authorises it. So again, the adventure in which Rush, belated at a distance from home, provides dinner for the con- vent by the extempore slaughter of an ox, is worked u]) into an elaborate narrative whi( li accounts for Rush's ' This description is ba.scd upon Schadc's abstract (u. s.) of llic S. Zcno legend, which I have not myself seen. ' Cf. Schade u. .s., p. 3(50. 304 THE ULENSPJEGEL CYCLE. [chap. long absence by help of a tavern scene, where he * found good fellowes playing at cardes, and drinking and making cheare, then Rush made obeysance to them and sate downe among them, ...and afterward he fell to play, and was as merrie as any man in the company: and so long he played and passed the time, that clean e hee had forgotten what he had to doe at home,' &c. ; and when Rush at length reaches the abbey laden with his two quarters of beef, the translator once more calls us in on his own authority to see them dressed and cooked. All this however was merely the result of the familiar attempt to adapt the simplicity and abstract language of the verse romance to the genius of an English prose story, with its insatiable love of incident, for crude detail, its anxiety to bring everything before the eye. But there are differences which strike deeper than these. The English Rush has obviously been modified by two dis- tinct influences, one of them purely English, the other, like Rush himself, a quite recent result of intercourse with Germany. Ulenspiegel, though essentially of a dif- ferent mythic type, bore too striking a superficial likeness to Rush to be kept completely distinct; and the mutual attraction was the greater since one of Ulenspiegel's adventures occurred in a convent. It is as a verger in the abbey of Marienthal that being told to 'count the monks' as they came to ' evening mass, he cuts away the steps by which they descend, and ' counts ' their prostrate forms on the floor (No. 89). This, and the other still duller jest with the Hildesheim merchant, whom he serves as kitchen-boy (No. 64: being told to grease the carriage he greases the seat) are introduced into the English History of Rush, obviously because he also served in a kitchen and in a convent. Obviously too they are quite out of place there. Pure types of the merely wanton v.] RUSH AND ROBIN GOODFELLOVV. 305 quibbling humour of Ulenspiegel, tliey are quite foreign to the pohtic devil whose jesting is only a mode of strategy. More interesting is the second case. Robin Good- fellow, like Ulenspiegel, bore a certain but also only superficial resemblance to Rush. His ' merry pranks ' are neither diabolic strategy, nor wanton outrage, but freaks of good nature tempered now and then by just resentment. We have already seen how his legend was mutilated under the powerful influence of the German Ulenspiegel: in revenge, the German Rush was now attracted still more completely by his. There were obvious points in the myth of Rush to suggest the com- parison. If Rush was not originally a water-elf, as Schade supposes, his story was at least full of elvish traits'. The evil spirit disguised as cook recalled the household service for which Puck was famed, the swim- ming horse into which he is transformed was paralleled by equally familiar feats of transformation. That Eng- land was the goal of his journey was itself a trait of elf mythology*. It was therefore in no way an abstruse jirocess which led to his intimate connexion with the native English kobold. This had consequences far more disastrous to the congruity of the story than the addition of the Zeno myth, far more than even the surreptitious dash of Ulenspiegel. Not merely is a slory introduced ' Cf. .Schade u. s. p. 382 f., \vlicrc this is well workt..! oui. VVriyhl's essay ( AVjrtjj on the MiddU A_i;,-r, 11. i If.) conijiiiis :i (juan- lity of material on this head, rather loosely and ixjpularly treated. ' On England as the mythic home of elves and nightmares, see Schade u. s. j). 383. Schade is wrong however in saying that the horse is Kush's 'original' form; the passage of the English version from which he argues implies the exact o|)posite. Kiish is there said to be changed [from a horse, which he already was] 'K. his original form,* vi/., I suppose, that of a devil. H, 20 306 THE ULENSPIEGEL CYCLE. [chap. which though hardly founded on any extant legend of Goodfellow, is completely in his manner, but the central incident of the second part of the History is radically transformed in the same sense'. The first is the tale of Rush's intervention between an unfortunate married man and his wife, to the complete discomfiture of the inter- loping priest. Rush's mission of corruption is here obviously forgotten. In the other case, he passes still more explicitly through the whole interval which sepa- rates the devil from the good-natured kobold. Instead of * possessing ' the king's daughter, he becomes the means of restoring her sanity. Having taken service, as 'a poore young man,' with a gentleman', he is asked by his master ' as they went talking together,' whether he knew of any man ' that can conjure a spirit out of a woman's body.' Rush makes no doubt of his ability to find one, passes across the sea to Esrom, fetches the prior, who performs the cure, and is then brought back as he had come, — a still closer parallel to the Zeno story, it is clear, than the German versions. After this, the banishment of Rush into the castle, and his sudden resumption of devil nature, becomes still more incon- gruous. But the process of assimilation to Goodfellow was destined to be carried still further. By a chance cer- tainly rather unusual in England, but by no means unex- ampled or anomalous as has been thought^ Friar Rusli ' This is briefly noticed by Lappenberg, Uknspiegel, p. 228. " The substitution of a 'gentleman,' for the 'king' of the original Rush legend is characteristic of the legend of Robin Goodfellow, a household spirit who does not haunt palaces. ' Wright {Essays &c. u. s.) goes so far as to suggest that tlieic was a native English Friar Rush. But similar transplantations abound in comparative mythology. Even in quite recent times v.] RUSH NATURALISED. 30/ passed from the pages of the German story-book into the living folk lore of England. Long before the ap- pearance of the English translation, he was a familiar figure, in compan}- with such popular favourites as the Nine Worthies and the Prodigal Son, on the painted cloth hangings of taverns; — the cloth being probably imported, as such arras mostly was, from the Nether- lands, the medium of almost every German legend which reached us. Here however he was still distinctly the disguised devil; the graphic lines in Ganuner Gtirtofis Needle make this clear'. A generation later he has undergone a remarkable transformation. Not only has the alien completely established himself in the fearful fancy of rural England, but in the process he has put on the likeness of the rest of the rustic pantheon whose dominion he shared. From Christian he has passed over into Teutonic mythology. The English pucks and gob- lins have admitted him into their merry company ; and the devil forgets his mission, and condescends, like Good- fellow, to play the village censor, and to stickle for propitiatory bowls of cream". something very like it has occasionally occurred; only the other day M. Ma-spcro had to warn the Egyptological world that sonic tales of his own collection, casually related to some Arahs at Thebes, were already circulating in the country as quasi-native legends. And probably not a few Knglish children are brought up, as the present writer was, in the faith of the German Santa Claus. ' Saw ye never Fryer Riishe Tainted on a cloth with a sidelong cow's tayle, And crooked cloven feet, Locke, even what face fryer Kushe had, tlic devil haantoniime puppet show, or the wil- fully eccentric art of the Mastjue; and Jonson's helplessly outwitted Pug is a type of the senile stage, — ' sans eyes, sans teeth, sans everything ' — which i)recedc(l his com- plete extinction. The course of the present chapter has thus l)r()Ught us close to the subject of the last, as the last here and there unavoidably anticij)ated the jjrcscnt. The keen mutual attraction of the ideas of roguery and devilry ' Pug enters the service uf Merewatcr, as Lurchall thai ol Bartervile. H. 2 1 322 THE ULENSPIEGEL CYCLE. [chap, v.] continually tended to fasten them on the same object. Faustus and Fortunatus use their magic powers in the very spirit ofOwlglass ; and Rush, the Owlglass of monas- ticism, is taken for a devil in disguise. And the fact that, of the four stories we have reviewed, that of Rush alone got a serious footing in our hterature, is one more evi- dence of that singular quality of the second-rate Eliza- bethan mind, which made the meanest story with a flavour of devilry often more fascinating than any degree of brilliance or beauty without it. Precisely these four stories serve to illustrate the law which seems to have controlled so largely our borrowings from Germany — that where there was abundance both of better and worse work, we chose a very little — of the worse. An inverted evolution seemed to have specially sanctioned the sur- vival of the weakest and most unfit, and heaped the honours of literature upon buffoons like Owlglass and Rush, while it left the good jests of Markolf and the Kalenberger to grow musty in forgotten prints. From the Jester we pass naturally to the Fool : — one, however, whose motley is no longer the badge of privileged wit but the brand imposed by an indignant satirist. CHAPTER VI. The Ship of Fools. Stuliorutn infitiitus est numerus. These famous words Intro- sum up as well as any others the fundamental axiom auction. of all satire, to which every generation of satirists has given expression in every variety of accent, and phrase. That the world is a kingdom of Fools is a conviction easily detected beneath the fine urbanities of Renan, the glittering irony of Pope. Uttered with more down- right and brutal emphasis it is the commonplace in which the decaying Middle Age invested its whole capital of intellectual and moral scorn. The com- monplace was picjuant however, and the extraordinary variety of expression and metaphor with which it was seasoned never permitted it to pall. The whole range of mediaeval institutions, the churcli, the court, the civic gild, the monastic fraternity, were im[)ortcd into the kingdom of Fools; the animal world swelled its numbers with 'a.sses' and 'cuckoos,' 'apes' and 'hares"; pagan mythology provided Venus and Bacchus for its di- vinities*; Seneca and Solomon, Horace and Juvenal ' Cf. Zarnckc, Narrenschiff, p. xlvii. ; VVackcrnagcl, A7. Schriftcn, III. ^\\\ and Murner's Gaiuhmatl. ' Cf. Lydgatc, The Order of Fools, ad iiiil. Venus also presides over Murner's ' Geuchc' 21 — 2 324 THE SHIP OF FOOLS. [chai'. furnished a store of instances, and the treasury of ver- nacular proverb-lore an inexhaustible supply of illustra- tion. The most intrinsically original of all these meta- phors and fancies was due to Germany, and it served as framework, to what was long considered the masterpiece of German satire, the Ship of Fools. Writing in the last years of the fifteenth century, and himself a loyal though somewhat backward pupil of the Humanists, Brandt may be said to have given mediaeval Fool-literature its last and crowning work. But if he closed an epoch, he also initiated one. The Narreii- schiff enjoyed the rare good fortune of winning equal popularity in the world of scholars and in that of men who run as they read. Translated into Latin elegiacs by his disciple Locher, it became one of the classics of Hu- manism; it supplied More with the point of an epigram', and Erasmus with the conception of his own no doubt infinitely superior Praise of Folly. And it also gave a fresh stimulus and in some de- gree a fresh form to vernacular satire both at home and abroad. In England especially a long series of writings, from Barclay and Skelton at the beginning of the century to Tarlton at its close, betrayed the direct influence of a book which held its ground here even more persistently than in Germany, and in spite of an incomparably more formidable competition. With all its shortcomings it did us great service. It helped to bridge ' One of those against Germanus Brixius. I do not know that it has been noticed before in this connexion : In chordigeram na-'em et Antimorum sylvam. Brixius en Germanus habet sylvamque ratemque, Dives opum terra, dives opum pelago ; Utraque vis illi quid praestat scire? vehuntur In rate stidliliae, sylvam habitant furiae. VI.] FOOL-LITERATURE IN ENGLAND. 325 over the difficult transition from the literature of per- sonified abstractions to that which deals with social types. It helped to substitute study of actual men and women at first hand for the mere accumulation of con- ventional traits about an abstract substantive; to turn allegory into narrative, moralities into dramas, and, in a narrower field, to prepare the way for the Character- sketches of the seventeenth century, for the revivers of Chaucer and the imitators of Theophrastus, for Over- bury and Hall and Earle '. In England however as elsewhere Brandt had pre- Fool- decessors, whose influence only in part coincided with ^'Z^^^^'^*"' his and has to be carefully distinguished from it. 'This in ndlh' fore distinction falls chiefly upon two Englishmen, the ' J''^' '^^''"^ brilliant author of the Speculum Siultoruni, and the poet who embodied his morose ethics in the Order of Fools. Both ditTcr from Brandt in starting with the notion of a religious fraternity. The foundation of the N. Wi- ' Ass's Order,' it will be remembered, is one of the most ^^^^'■•, • J r 1 Speculum telhng episodes of the Speculum. After a chequered Stnltorum. career of adventure at the university of Paris and else- where, the Ass, ]5runellus, thinks of retiring from the world. He weighs the merits of the various religious orders in succession. Finding none perfectly satis- factory, he conceives the idea of founding a new Order which should combine the good jjoints of all the rest; in which, for instance, he might enjoy horse exercise, like the Templars, share the liberal diet of the Dominicans, ' Prof. Ward has already expressed this view in a very full article «n Harclay in the Didioiiary of National /iioj^rap/iy : ' The English Ship of Fools exercised an imiwrtant direct influence upon our literature, pre-eminently helping to Iniry mediaeval allegory in the grave which had long yawned before it, and to direct English authorship into the drama, essay and novel of character.' 326 THE SHir OF FOOLS. [chap. the 'one Mass a month' of the Franciscans, the conver- sational freedom of the Grandimontenses, and, finally, borrow the privilege of that divinely founded Order of which Adam and Eve were the first members, and have a wife'. Lydgate : Wireker was a precentor of Canterbury under King fJoiF"'^ John'. The Ass's Order dates therefore at latest from the outset of the thirteenth century. Two and a half centuries later the 'Order of Fools' is already a common- place of satire. It was in a certain sense carried into practice by the Gild of the 'Enfants sans souci,' whose Soties frecjuently, as in the Roy des Soiz, represented a Fool-society modelled upon the gild itself^. And Lydgate, in the score of octave stanzas which go by this name, has given us the best means of learning what a devout Englishman of his day understood by Folly. His treatment is wholly different from Wireker's. The religious order which Brunellus founded with so much ceremony, has become a faded phrase to Lydgate, and he barely enlarges on the allusion conveyed by his title. Wireker sets forth conditions and privileges: Lydgate does little more than drily enumerate the members, and the inherent irony of his plan is dispelled at every moment by an unseasonable earnestness. The description of the 'sixty-three' Fools is quite without dramatic life. Though written within two generations of Chaucer's great Prologue, it is a mere catalogue ^ Speculum Stultoruiii, sig. e.v. ' Novus ordo brunelli.' - Bale, sill) nom. Cf. the valuable disputation held (in indifferent Latin before the celebrated Thomasius by Immanuel Weber, — De N. Wirekero, Lips. 1672 ; the only detailed discussion of Wireker that I know. ^ Ancien lluiitre Fratifais, 11. Cf. Mr Saintsbury's S/iort His- tory, -p. 123. VI.] THE SHIP OF FOOLS. 12"] of isolated traits nowhere elaborated into a portrait, a sort of index of dangerous persons, as it were, cal- culated for practical utility rather than for aesthetic delight. The Narrenschiff h&z.rs the closest resemblance to Tke'Nar- Lydgate's poem in plan. In both, a long series oi^^"^'^ '^• vicious characters are collected and described under the rubric Fool. But the Ship of Fools would assuredly never have become the enormously jjopular book it was, had it been a mere summary of different kinds of 'Folly,' or even an analysis of the characteristics of various 'Fools.' In conception at least it was more. It was a series of vivid portraits, nay it was even a rudimentary drama in which a succession of Fools, the crew of a Ship bound on a mysterious voyage, appeared in person, and delivered each one his characteristic and self-portraying speech. The idea is no doubt very imperfectly carried out', but it is emphasised at the outset, and the impres- sion lasts. We are continually reminded, even by the .slightest touches, of the dramatic suppositions of the work; the Fools are charged or e.xhorted, sorrowfully chidden, or sternly threatened, peremptorily summoned and rallied. And this somewhat hesitating and pre- carious dramatic life is powerfully enforced by the invariably vivid woodcuts. Wlien the description is most formal and abstract, or loses itself in parallels and 'examples,' the auxiliary art silently secures that the poet shall not be talked out Ijy the moralist. 'I'he advantage which Brandt tlms gained over ' Cf. for example the chapters where the Fools speak in their own persons: thus the i'lle accumulator of hooks (ch. i) : 'Den vordantz hat man mir gelan' &c,, and the ' old ' I'ool (ch. 5), ' Myn narrheyt loszl mich nit sin grys.' So ch. 78. 3-8 THE SHIP OF FOOLS. [ciiAi-. Lydgate was however in but a small degree due to Brandt himself. The ideas which he combined, — the woodcuts, the procession or series of Fools, and the Ship, — had all been familiar in German satire, though they had never been associated in exactly the same way. Figures of Fools with mottoes were a current form of Flying Sheet, and had already been used as illustrations in Vindler's Bhcme der Tugend\ The young and vigorous Carneval drama had turned to account the comic capacities of the Fool, and nowhere, except at Niirnberg, w^s it more actively cultivated than precisely at Basel, where the Narrenschiff was written. And the Ship of bad characters, for ages a popular jest in Germany, had been recently worked out in a milieu with which he also stood in close connexion, and with an effective touch to which he hardly made pretence. I. Nowhere, in fact, in the early drama of Europe, did stiele^^^ the mediaeval taste for groups of parallel figures, of which the Order of Fools was only one example, play so large a part as in the German Fastnachtspiele. There are traces of it no doubt elsewhere, and it was certainly a conception of dramatic form which all the instincts of mediaeval art tended to suggest and to confirm. Else- where however it either ruled only as a passing phase, the defects of which were rapidly perceived and over- come, or else it was from the first so skilfully handled that they were not felt. The English Morality was too inartificial to deal more than occasionally (as in the Four Elements) with this somewhat elaborate kind of artifice; and its favourite theme — a struggle between good and evil powers for the human soul — tended to merge all finer grouping in a single absolute antithesis. The French Morality, on the other hand, and still more, the ' Allg. D. B.: 'Brandt,' p. 257; Zarncke, p. xlvii. VI.] CARNEVAL-PLAYS. 329 Farce and the Soiie, was too lively to ofter very salient examples of a device which inevitably tends to sameness, and the few which it does offer betray more anxiety to overpower this tendency than to emphasise it. The 'five senses of man,' for instance, are brought on the stage; three Fools court \\\t foUe Bobatice^ ; or the Roy des Sotz gathers his five subjects about liim^, but the rapid movement and the inexhaustible variety of com- bination easily carry oflfthe repetition. In Germany, on the contrary, the device of parallelism found extraordinary favour; and among the Carneval-playwrights of Niirnberg it became almost a stock principle of construction, like the double plot of our Jacobeans, applicable to any kind of subject, and always to be relied on for dramatic effect. It flattered the taste for mechanical symmetry of form which has repeatedly haunted German literature, and which has frequently been exorcised only by help of a blind revolt against all form whatever. A number of characters deliver successive speeches, each more or less artlessly setting forth his own peculiarities. Frequently this is combined with the legal form of a trial or a con- sultation. A youth comes into a law-court requesting the court's oi)inion iii)on the proper age for marriage. The judge appeals to the doctors of law in attendance; and their judgments, delivered in succession, constitute the play*. Another youth, desiring information upon tlie seven liberal arts, apj>lies in turn to the 'seven masters'— Aristotle, Euclid, Hoethius, Ptolemy &c., who one and all promptly satisfy his curiosity, in spite of his frank avowal that his interest in learning is strictly measured by its ' Anciett 'I'luAlre Franfais, II. 165 (T. - /h. •273, ff. •' Keller, Fashiiuhtapidc dcs it^Un Ja/irhuiuUrts, No. 41 : der Jitnglitig der ain IVeip ucmcn ruil. 330 THE SHIP OF FOOLS. [chap. utility in courtship '. Still oftener the action is modelled on a regular trial; and the parallelism is furnished by a successive examination of witnesses, prisoners, or claimants. A number of suitors urge their rival claims to a reward, or strive to clear themselves from a disgrace*. In Die sicbcn varb, in the same way, the seven colours plead for supremacy before 'Frau Sunnreich,' who gives the palm to brown, as 'the bond of love^' Unexciting discussions such as this however occupied little space beside those which gave play to the pungent satire which was the genius of the Fastiiachtspiel ; and to such an object the competition or examination of a group of similar characters lent itself with the utmost ease; the competitors or claimants were made ridiculous by the prize they sought or by the story they told; the string of pleading suitors became, in short, a row of 'Fools.' Thus in several plays, ten or more Hebe Ndrrlebi are made to compete in the manner of Hcywood's Four P^s, for the honour of being the 'greatest fool,' and recount their several adventures in love, in order to prove if'. Or again, thirteen 'Fools of love' are 'examined' by Venus. They recount their adventures in turn , but the sentence falls equally upon all: Seit ir durch weiber sein toren worderi, So bleibt auch in dcm selbcn orden*. ' No. 96 : die sieben meister. 2 No. 12. 3 lb. No. 103. * No. 14. 5 No. 32: Ein Spil von Narrm. Cf. No. 38, 'Ein FNSp. von denen die sich die weiber nerren lassen ' [nute fools, called ' der erst narr,'' der ' ander ihor,^ 'der dritt ^-Jif/,' &c.). Also, No. 13, where t-u'dve fools of love in the same way tell their experiences. VI.] THE SHIP. IV Such processions of Fools were no doubt essentially different from Brandt's; the Fools are all of a single type; there is no suggestion of the Brandtian thought that all sins are reducible to forms of folly. But there was all the dramatic apparatus for carrying out that thought, suitable by its very simplicity to a poet whose aims in art were very humble, and who was much more anxious to convert the world than to amuse it. Even more than to the Fastnachtspiele however The ship. Brandt owed the form and the spirit of his satire to the device of the Ship. The old satirical fancy of a 'Ship of boon companions' was of purely German invention, and before Brandt, exclusively of German currency. Teich- ner's Sc/iif der F/iist, Jacob van Oestvoren's Blauwe .Schute and Jodocus Gallus' Motiopolium des Lichtschiffes all had in common, with different shades of emphasis, the representation of a crew of ruined revellers and spendthrifts'. In the two latter the irony is heightened by the introduction of an 'order' or gild to which only ruined revellers are admissible, witli a formal scheme of privileges and conditions, and a list of members drawn out of all ranks of society, from the alchemist who had melted his fortune in the crucible, to the bishop who had mortgaged his income to buy his titled A satirical device of this kind evidently came of the same stock as the 'Land of Cockayne' It also reflected a somewhat less genial, a somewhat more resentful and vindictive criticism of the riotous living at which it was aimed. ' ' All flic von pruzcm put Chrijincn uiT vieln in armiil ' {Sch. d. /•'.); 'alien ghcsellen van wiklo manicrcn ' (A'. .SV//.), '(jiii, cum \>n\\% cssent multarum (livitiarum...onerc gravali, dispcnsante cum cis cl)rielate...sunt dc |,'ratia Dei ali eisdein.lKidie /f:'//7rrt//' (JA?//*;/. d. L.). All three arc printed at length in Zarncke, p. Ixi. (T. * Monopol. dcs Lichtachiffes, Zarncke, p. Ixix. 33- THE SHIP OF FOOLS. [chap. Cockayne was a bona fide paradise of the improvident, in which the one condition of prosperity was to take no thought. But the Ship was a paradise only in the imagination of its crew. They crowd eagerly on board, and sail gaily away, but their destination is not what they anticipate. The worn-out spendthrifts of Teichner's Ship of Ruin are bound for the havens of ' Emptymouth ' and 'HoUowcheek' in the land of spare living'. Those of Jodocus Gallus' ZzV///^^//z^ decree that the dullest on board shall stand at the helm, and that no one shall take any thought of danger. They show the easy temper of Cockayne exactly where this can be done with least im- punity — in a ship at sea. And Brandt expressed this pointedly by calling his ship of 'good fellows' the Ship of Cockayne ^ Their voyage is accordingly as full of perils as that of Odysseus, on which it is with some felicity modelled. They put out merrily from 'Nar- bonne' with 'Narragonia,' their final port, inscribed on their pennon. They wander helplessly along the seas, searching every port and every shore, but vainly, for none knows where to land; dreaming of an Eldorado but heedless of compass and chart ; half crushed in the Symplegades, barely escaping Scylla and Charybdis; some lulled by the Sirens to fatal sleep, others swallowed by the Cyclops, and many more entertained by the cannibal Laesirygones who sunst aiiders essen niit Dann narren fleisch zu aller zyt Und drincken blut fur irn wyn. At length, broken by the waves, borne astray by the wind, despoiled of its crew and bereft of all help and 1 Schif der Flust, vv. 6, 25 etc. ^ Narrenschiff, chap. 108. VI.] CLASSIFICATION OF THE FOOLS. 112) counsel, the Ship of Misfortune is swallowed up in a whirlpool. The 'Ship of Cockayne' is thus the direct equivalent of the 'Ships of Ruin,' which preceded it, and Brandt in so far merely added one more to the mediaeval satires upon prodigal riot. His plan however was far more comprehensive than this. Prodigal riot was but one among the hundred and odd types of human infirmity which he gathered under the head of Folly, and to which he extended in a strangely loose fashion the image of the Ship. It was to this, rather than to its con- fused and feebly executed imagery, that the Ship of Fools owed its lasting influence, if not exactly its immediate attraction, above all in England, where, as I have said, it was destined to become one of the main starting-points of modern satirical portraiture. It is necessary therefore to examine its contents somewhat more closely. Without any pretence of philosophic nicety, we may Classifua- distinguish six different notions which Brandt at various ^'f" ^J,., ° . . Brandts times attaches to his cardinal term Folly, and under one Fools. or other of which all his P'ools may be grouped. Some of them have always been recognised as marks of Folly; others reflect the curious idiosyncracy of Ikandt's age, and of Brandt himself. The inclusion of a large i. number of more or less criminal offences, for instance, ^^.'^•^f cnmjuiil is perhaps the most origmal feature in an ethical system opncesK which for the modern mind is full of originalities. VVe have offences against religion, — blasphemy*, 'contempt for GodV or for another life*, desecration of festivals^; ' This term fairly expresses the judgment of Brandt's ape upon the faults mentioned below, .some of which we should regard more leniently. » Cap. 78. » Capp. 86, K;. * Cap. 43, » Cap. 95. 334 THE SHIP OF FOOLS. [chap. offences against the law and common morality, — op- pression', crafty dealing of various kinds, forging^ and appropriation"', dishonest borrowing ■* and extortionate usury*, slanderous falsehoods'' and hollow flattery', with lust" and adultery". All these are actions by which society suffers, while the offender may in a certain sense gain. They are consistent at any rate with a con- siderable share of the worldly happiness of which ' Folly ' is commonly thought to involve the loss. T- The second class of Fools are also unpleasant to their neighbours rather than conspicuously or directly injurious to themselves; the insolent and quarrelsome people, who take offence at the slightest provocation '" or correction", and carry every petty squabble into the law-courts'^; or wantonly injure, and sneak away to avoid the consequences'^; petty tyrants like the civic officials '\ rough oppressors like the knights", insolent upstarts like the peasants'". 3. The third class are also far from innocuous to society, but they do themselves still worse harm. Among the forms of Riot the sober and peaceable lawyer of Basel sternly condemned every kind of dissipation and the slightest breach of orderly social observance; — dancing'^, and gambling'", heavy eating and drinking'*, disturbances and bad language in the streets''", or in church'', or at table ^^ and above all on the occasion ' Cap. 10. '■* Cap. \o^. ' Cap. 70. •» Cap. 25. ' Cap. 93. " Cap. 105. 7 Cap. 100. * Cap. 50, cf. 49. " Cap. 33. ^" Cap. 25, cf. 42, 53, 64, 72. » Cap. 54. ^- Cap. 71. " Cap. 69. » Cap. 79. '» Cap. 79. '« Cap. 82. '■ Cap. 6r. »» Cap. 77. i" Cap. 16. 2" Cap. 62. " Capp. 44,91. -- Cap. no a. Rid \ VI.] FOOLS OF RIOr AND SLOTH. 335 most notorious for both, — the Shrove-tide festivities'; wantonness of idle students" and workmen ^ butlers and cooks \ And with these may be classed those who indulge in even innocent forms of the superfluity which to Brandt's ascetic temper seemed itself a sin; — superfluity of wealth*, of talk'', of books', of benefices"; ouday of precious hours in the saddle ^ or with the gun '". The fourth class, like the third, is closely con- 4. nected with the Folly of Cockayne; but their fault is ^^°'''' one of neglect rather than of commission. People who neglect their children", or do not provide for old age'", or for death'-', or for the accidental mischances which to men of Brandt's cautious temperament appear to be always impending'''; or again, the merely lazy and indolent, the maid who slumbers at her wheel and the man who loiters at the mill". But neglect of duty was a relatively small offence in Brandt's view if it merely ended in inaction. It was at least consistent with being quiet and sober and thinking of oneself no higher than one ought to think, virtues on which he is never weary of insisting. The Fools, on the contrary, who incur his most vehement and persistent criticism, to whom he returns again and again, and who, if any, may be said to touch the very heart of his satire, are those who neglect their own duty to meddle with another's, the ofilicious Atlases, represented in one of his woodcuts, wiio try to put the world on their own shoulders'", the I-ools oi presumption. ' Cap. iioh. - Cap. 27. ^ Cap. 4S. * f-ap. Si. 5 Cap. 17. « Cap. 19. ^ ^ap- •• * Cap. 30. » Cap. 74. '" Cap. 75. 11 Cap. r,, n Cap. 1 j. " Cap. 85. '< Cap. 70. "> Cap. 97. '" <;^ap. 14 {von zuvil sorg). 336 THE SHIP OF FOOLS. [chap, 5, Brandt's fertility of illustration on this head is in- Presuvip- flrij|-g p^is ethics are not drawn from the Gospel, for JhUI. they are without a suggestion of altruism; but the Gospel itself did not urge a more unqualified abasement of pre- tensions, a more complete 'lowliness of spirit.' He has nothing but scorn for heroic rashness. The 'unhappy Faun' who strove with Apollo, and was flayed for it, is his chosen type for those who attempt what is too hard for them'. And commoner sorts of pretension are denounced with what reads like the tirade of an egoist, but is really only a severe application of the practical maxim that, for society's sake, men must attend to themselves first. To ignore the mass of men is the beginning of wisdom. 'He is a wise man who knows his own business, and no man else's.' 'Whoever would satisfy all the wants of mankind must indeed rise early.' 'It takes a great store of meal to stop everybody's mouth.' 'He is a fool who runs to put out another man's house when his own is burning, or who pushes another's boat on with a loss of speed to his own",' 'The father who gives his children bread when he is starving should be flogged to death ^' And an attack upon the monks for seeking their own salvation at the expense of the world from which they withdraw, is answered by the plea that every one must think of his own soul first. ' If I had tzao souls, I would gladly give one for my fellows.' Another remarkable chapter is devoted to the fashionable Fools who travel and return no wiser than they went, according to the domestic- minded proverb, approvingly quoted by Brandt, which declares that 'a goose flies away and a gander flies 1 Cap. 67. '' Cap. 58. ' Cap. 90. I ff. This was a current proverl> ; cf. Zarncke, ad be. VI.] FOOLS OF PRESUMPTION. 337 -^^ . . back,' and the students who thronged the universities of Paris and Bologna; a cry heartily echoed by Barclay, as afterwards in more classical prose by Ascham. The possi- biHty of getting wisdom by travel Brandt did not indeed wholly deny, but it was mainly confined to wise pagans like Ulysses and Pythagoras; and a more sincere homage is paid to the still wiser pagan who never left his native Athens. Brandt lays bare the kernel of his moral nature in the suspicion that 'he who wanders cannot perfectly serve God.' At other times he dwells rather on the perils of travel than on its futility. A wise man should stay at home, or if he find himself by chance at sea, make for the shore as swiftly as possible. The Eldorado is far off, and you are more likely to be drowned than to reach it. Such was the view of a Basel doctor just two years after the discovery of America. Less amiable kinds of presumption are touched with hardly more severity, such as frivolous ambitions', worldly marriages', or meddlesome quarrel-making^ And then comes a whole series of chapters devoted to assailing the com- mon psychological ground of this class of Folly, — idle confidence in one's own powers'", or virluousness'*, or good fortune", or in God's mercy', or in the speedy death, of one's rich relatives". Lastly, wc have the class of mere simpletons whose 6. title to belong to the order of Fools has always been ^''^'''•^'O'- recognised: the people who 'cut themselves with their own knife' — are trampled on, as Brandt says, by the ass", who disobey their doctor'" or make fo(j!ish ex- changes", or who arc fatuously credulous''' or fatuously ' ( ap. 97. « Cap. 52. 3 Cap. 7. *■ Cap. 60. » Cap. 36. « Cap. 37 7 Cap. 14, » Cap. 94. » Cap. 78 '» Cap. 38. » Cap. 89. " Cap. 41 11. 2 33S THE SHIP OF FOOLS. [chap. communicative', or generally weak and unstable in character, incapable of breaking a bad habit" or keeping a good resolution"'. Siniitiuvy. Such is a general \ie\v of what Brandt included in his gallery of Fools. Compared with other attempts of the same kind it is extraordinarily comprehensive, and also singularly German. It is a picture of the infirmities of German society in the year 1494. Eccentric as at certain points it may seem, it is in its main lines in l^erfect harmony with fifteenth century ethics and nomenclature. Lydgate, for instance, views folly from a scarcely less catholic standpoint, and his sixty-three Fools are recruited from every class of Brandt's five score. Thus the '■insolenf Fools are represented by him 'that is cursed and hathe therof deynte' and him 'that bostith of his cursidness' (st. 13, 11); the '■riotous'' by the 'night motoner' (st. 15) and the 'night rowner' (st. 21)^, the '• self-tiegledfur by 'him that castithe away his cloke in showris,' sleeps when the fox is in his fold (st. 19), drinks beer when he might drink wine (st. i6)'': the '■presumptuous'' by 'the lusti galaunt that weddithe an old wichc' (st. 15), or 'sekithe warre and hathe hjmself no myght ' (st. 9). On the other hand, the proportionate emphasis laid upon these ^ Cap. 39; loi. - Cap. 5. ■' Cap. 84 ; cf. 96. ■* That this was a perfectly natural use of the term Fool (it is scarcely so to us) is also shown by the interesting Seriiwu joyciix des Foulx (VioUct-lc-Duc 11 207 ff. ) where one of the four classes of fools is that wliich ' per plateas nocturno tempore cunit.' (ib. P- 213)- '' This very Enylisli conception of Folly is the main point of Jyl of Brentford's Testament, a century later; it also appears to survive in the old liighgate ceremony of 'swearing on the horns,' tlie oath consisting in a promise ' not to drink small beer when one could drink strong,' &c. VI.] LYDGATE'S 'ORDER OF FOOLS.' 339 classes is very different. Brandt has his own country in view, and he gives enormous space to the riotous sensuaUty for which Germany was then and long after- wards a bye-word, while he has little to say of the subtle duplicities of which, as the patriots of the next gene- ration exultingly boasted, the guileless Teuton had never been accused'. It is precisely this vice however, upon which the main weight of Lydgate's indignation falls. The deceitful fool, we are told, is the most heinous of all, who may hoppe on the ryng, Foote al aforn and lede of right the daunce: He that al ycvithe and kepythe himself nothyng", A double hcrt with fayre feyned countenaunce, And a pretence face trouble in his daliaunsc, Tunge spreynt with sugre, the galle kept secret, A perilous mowthe is worse than spere or launce, Thoughe they be cherisshctl, Clod Icte them never the'''. The note thus struck almost at the outset is recurred to throughout the series. We hear of fools * with two faces in one hood (st. 2)', simulating (st. 5), 'flattering and faining' (st. 10), 'promise-breaking' (st. 11), and faith-violating fools (st. 12). On ilic other hand, Lydgate is in various ways less complete. The sexual offences on which llrandt repeatedly dwells, have no place in his list\ The liorror of prc-sumptif)n, of superfluity, ' Ilutlen: Iiis/iidiiiUs. - Lydgate and iJrandt thus each describe the same trait under their favourite rubrics. " I quote from the Ilarlcian text printed by Ilalliwell for the I'crcy society. A slightly dirferent one is in Kl/l'S, lv\lra Scr, No. 8. •• Urandt's inclusion of them may probably be explained by the associaticms of the term Guuc/i, which was both an cijuivalcnt for Nan; and also, in a special sense, as we see from llie (jiiui/uiiaK, referred to breaches of chastity. 2 2. — 2 340 THE SHIP OF FOOLS. [chap. of self-confidence, which colours so much of Brandt's satire, is scarcely perceptible. But what was far more important for the literary influence of Brandt was, as I have already hinted, the profusion of concrete figures, types of classes, of professions, trades, spiritual and secular offices, with which he illustrated what no doubt was primarily a classification by moral (qualities. There is nothing in Lydgate like the sections of the Narreji- sc/u'ff on the beggars and vagabonds, on the fraudulent tradesmen, on the apprentices, on the monks, on the peasants, on the idle serving-men, on the courtiers, several of which, like that on the Grobians which will be dis- cussed in the next chapter, themselves became inde- pendent and fruitful literary starting-points. And this feature of the book was relatively even more important for England than for Germany. Its concrete and individual pictures of society were there hardly so much relished as the fantastic and humorous imagery of the Fool, in which they were disguised. The Narr was the most popular of satiric types '. The Aristophanic imagination of the time made a play- thing of him, and sportively maltreated him with huge and riotous enjoyment. He was 'conjured' and 'cast,' crowned with the proverbial ' cap,' immersed in the ^ The motive of the Ship on tlie other Iiand, remained after the first generation comparatively dormant. Geiler's Schiff dcr Busse and Schiff dcr Heil, witli the Ursulenschifflcin, are purely devout works which recall it merely in their titles. In the field of satire there remain only Gengenbach's A^arrcnschiff vo/n Biindschuch (on the insurgent peasantry) and perhaps Sachs' Dcr vollcn Sixw gefehrliche Scliiffart (Zarncke, p. Ixxii.). In England also, as we shall see, and in France, the Ship had only a transient success. Badius Ascensius' characteristic adaptation to the other sex in the Nefdes Folks rapidly followed the original. Symphorien Champier's Nef dcs Princes, though wholly unlike in motive, perhaps owed its form to this source. VI.] ENGLISH AND GERMAN FOOL SATIRE. 34 1 proverbial 'bath,' 'swallowed' by one enemy, extracted from the labouring intestines of another '. The wild humour of Narrenschneideii was, however, not wholly congenial to the somewhat realistic genius of English satire; and, in spite of Lydgate's precedent, the Fool in Brandt's sense remained practically locked up in the pages of his translator. No other catholic and uni- versal satirist formed himself upon his model ; and the crew of Fools begot for the most part only crews of knaves, beggars, courtiers, and court -jesters, — separate detachments of the in?iu}?ierabilis niimcrus stultonon^ which the private experience of each writer, rather than his moral judgment, led him to single out for special chastisement. What they lost in breadth however, Brandt's English successors gained in distinctness, in vigorous and vivid realism, in fulness of detail. If they were worse moralists they were better artists, and if they borrowed but fragments of his large and dignified ethics, they can fairly claim to have brought his frag- ments of art, his broken and confused hints of imagi- nation, into roundness and completion. Nowhere is this contrast more striking than in the Knavt.s. first of these productions', the remarkable fragment 7^^^ ',,, . Bote. Cf. the Narrensbcschworuttf;, Narrcn:;ies sen, NarrenkappcUy Narrenbady Nurrenfnsscr, and Murner's I.uthaischcr Narr, of all of which, excc])! the last, extracts arc given l)y Zarnckc. * I do not propose here to speak of IJarclay's translation, thoiij^li much might be said of its innumerable variations ujion the original. On liarclay sec, besides Prof, Ward's article in the Dictionary, to which I have already referred, a pan)i)hlet by J. ScyfTert : 'AU.xati dcr Barclay's Ship of Fools,'' which contains many suggestive re- 342 THE SHIP OF FOOLS. [chap. known as Cock LoreWs Bote''. Whoever the author may have been, wc owe him not merely a piece of writing of high antiquarian and philological interest, but one of the most vivid pictures we possess of vagrant life, comparable with 'Robin Hood' and the 'Jolly Beggars,' and the de- lightful beggar-scenes in Frischlin's Fran IVende/gani, and in contemporary literature paralleled only by a poem which it doubtless contributed to produce, the Hye Way to the Spittel House. It is certainly not without many marks of a seriousness as genuine as Brandt's, though less bitter; but this is broken by flashes of half suppressed marks. Seyffert however makes us a present of some unsuspected facts when he not only takes Barclay to Basel but actually intro- duces him, it is true with a Vt'nini/hlich, into 'the circle of scholars there, of which Johannes a Lapidc was the centre' (p. i). This is however only a natural enlargement upon Jamieson, who assumes the continental journey, for which there is no evidence at all, as a matter of fact, naively grounding it upon Barclay's account of the continental towns which were the favourite resort oi Fools. ^ Cock LorcWs Bote. London, n. d., but about 1510. In col : Wynkyn de Worde. The best edition is that of Rimbault for the Percy Society. The editor's list of early allusions to the poem omits, however, the earliest of all, that in the Ilyc Way to the Spittel House, v. 1058 ff. lie refers, but only in a general way, to the influence of the Narrenschiff. — All the five woodcuts in the Cock LoreW s Bote are free imitations of originals in 'Cne.Ship of Fools. None stand in very obvious relation to the text. That at B ii., (a Fool, with outstretched tongue, standing before a tree up which a magpie is ascending to her nest) is from the chapter Of to much spcakitig 07- babbling. Tliat at B iii., (the hunter whose dogs are divided between the attractions of two hares running in opposite directions) is taken from the illustration to the chapter Of hi>ii that together would serve t7vo viasters. Those at B v. and C ii. are iden- tical, and are freely adapted from the Universall Ship {Schhiraffen- schiff). That on C iii. (four Fools playing cards round a table) is also freely adapted from the chapter on Card players and dysers. VI.] *COCK LORELVS BOTE: 343 sympathy with the wild outlaw life. Something of the atmosphere of the greenwood is transferred to the scenery through which the 'Bote' makes its endless voyage; and Cock Lorell is hardly more the chief of a Ship of Fools than a naval Robin Hood among his merry men'. The fragment opens abruptly with what is evidently a description of the crew. Knavish tradesmen of every craft are crowding to the Bote at the summons of Cock Lorell, the 'corryer' whose ill-dressed hides 'wolde drynke water in fayr wetlier'; the shoemaker and cobbler struggling for a piece of leather, which they end in tear- ing to pieces; the butcher 'all begored in red blode, His hosen greasy upon his thyes, ...He had as moche pyte as a dogge.' At this point appears, wiih an abrupt- ness which the lost opening pages would probably have explained, a pardoner, bringing the muster-roll of what is now seen to be a 'religious fraternity' of knaves, and a list of the privileges which the pope is pleased to grant them, both of which he reads : The pope Darlaye hath graunted in his hyll That every brother may do what he wyll Also Pope Nycoll graunteth you all in this texte The coughe and the colicke the goufc and the flyxe, With the holsonie tooth-ache. He adds the equally cfjuivocal grant of land for a chapel, in the most notorious part of Southwark Bankside. This is followed by a long enumeration of the names of the crafts represented, — a store-house of the trade no- menclature of the early si.\teenth century; — 'Cock Lorell cast asydc his hedc, And sawc the stretcs all over sprede, ' The Robin Hood cycle was still in vigorous growth, and had yet to receive some of its most notable elements, such as Kriar Tuck. Cf. the excellent dissertation of II. Fricke : Die Robin-IIood Bal- laden (1883). 344 THE SHIP OF FOOLS. [chap. That to his bote wolde come, Of all craftcs there were one or other.' Each has his office in the ship, his par- ticular rope to haul &c. Then follows the spirited account of the voyage : — Cock Lorell blows his whistle, the crew set up the rowers' cry and smartly strike the water, — 'men might here the ores classhe,' — and gaily spread the sail; away they go, singing merry ballads and blowing trumpets 'for joy'; pulling to shore now and again to dance 'with all their might,'... 'sweryinge and starynge heven hye,' or drinking about St Julian's tonne', — -'they would not have virtu ne yet devocyon, But ryot and revell with joly rebellyon,' — until the sun goes down, and 'pale Lucina' rises with 'her silver stremes' that make the world as light as if it 'had be paved with whyte.' And then they set off again, up hill and down hill, to traverse England through and through, 'vyllage towne cyte and borowe,' 'from Garlic- head to knaves' in;' the poet watches the departing ship till he can see it no more, and then turns sadly home- ward. On his way he meets a rout of monks and nuns, all eager to join Cock Lorell; and anxiously inquiring where he is to be found, — Seo/xevot es Kopa/cas i\Bdv, koX Trapeo-- Kcuacr/xeVot, but unfortunately, like Euelpides and Peisthe- tairos eTrcira /ir) '^evpetv Svvdfievot Trjv ohov, — bent on 'going to the dogs' but unable to discover where 'the dogs' are. And he reckons the whole following of the Bote at 'the thyrd persone of Englande,' — a modest figure which Brandt's more pessimist arithmetic would hardly have ratified. It will be obvious from this sketch that the poem was the result of a not entirely successful attempt to fuse two conflicting though kindred motives; the travesty of a ^ Tome in the original, a misprint, as tlie rhyme shows, but reproduced without comment by the editors. VI.] 'COCK LORELVS BOTE: 345 religious order and the Ship of Fools. Most of the first part is only a new variety of the Order of Knaves. The pardoner's roll-call of the members of 'this fraternite,' his announcement of special indulgences, and of the grant of land for the chapel', place Cock Lorell in the company of the Markolfs and Brunellus', the founders of new Orders. Tradition too dwelt almost exclusively upon this aspect of him. For a century afterwards he was, if not the 'founder,' the 'confirmer' of the 'Twenty five Orders' of knaves*. But the constitution of the crew, their 'offices' and above all the voyage, are obviously drawn from the Ship of Fools, and from Barclay's version of it. The members of the 'fraternity' are approximately what Brandt called 'Craftsmen-fools,' — they are the rogues of the whole commercial and artizan world, gathered out of every craft and calling^ The opening lines of Brandt's Gescllcnsdiiff {cz\). 48) contained the germ of this : Eyn gsellcn schifT fcrt yetz do hiir, Das ist von hantwcrcks lliten schwar Von alien gwcrben unci hantyercn, &c. ' Cf. in Lydgatc's Order of Fools, the similar allusion to a papal grant: 'Nullatenses ensealed hathe his buUc To all suche, that none of hem shall the.' - So e.g. Awdelcy, on his title-page, to which I shall return. It is hardly worth while inquiring whether 'Order' in this phrase has the same meaning as in the 'Order of P'ools' (Lydgate), which, though it has 63 members, is itself single. It seems likely that the word, originally used with a distinct reference to the Monastic orders, afterwards resumed its etymological sense of 'rank'; so that the '25 orders of knaves' would mean so many 'rows' or subdivisions of them. Cf. the title of the Thicker of Tiirvcy {\(i},o) 'with the Eight Several Orders of Cuckolds marching here likewise in their horned Ranks.' ■• 'Of every craft some there was, Shorte or longe, more or lasse.' p. 11. The vast majority are true crafts, and the names show the great 34^ THE SHIP OF FOOLS. [ciiAi-. careless and hasty workmen, as he proceeds to tell us, journeymen who fancy themselves masters, 'tailors who take long stitches,' 'masons who leave large joints,' 'car- penters who make much sawdust' and the like. And Barclay had given the satire a somewhat keener point by turning the slipshod workers into downright scamps: — Some make theyr ware unjust and disceyvable... Such as coveyt the byers to bcgyle With flaterynge wordes fals and dysceyvable,... And all other... Whiche make theyr warke not true and profitable But counterfayte and pleasaunt to the iye And nought in profe, men to abuse therby. The The crew of the 'Bote' are then essentially Brandt's I oyage. 'Gesellen.' But when we come to the voyage and its adventures, the history of the Gesellen ceases to offer a parallel, Brandt having, as usual, very speedily acquitted himself of the imaginative part of his work. Once how- ever, and only once, he had ventured upon a genuine and detailed account of a voyage, — the voyage of the 'good fellows' to Narragonia or Cockayne; and it is this voyage of the SchlnraffaiscJiiff, not that of the Geselleti- sc/iiff, from which the idea of Cock Lorell's is immediately derived. The Bote is therefore a fusion of the two chapters. Such a fusion had been much facilitated by the translators. Locher had brought these originally remote passages (capp. 48 and 108 in the original) together at the end of the book', and had also given specialisation which English trades had attained even at the be- ginning of the sixteenth century. A few however are only ironically described as crafts, e.g. : Swerers, and outragyous laughers, .Surmowsers, yll thynkers, and make brasers With Idlers, lordaynes, and fagot berers, &c. ' In Locher they are separated only by his own Exctisatio. VI.] THE VOYAGE. 34/ them somewhat analogous titles'; while Barclay besides following him in this, as was natural, had placed at the head of one chapter in his version a stanza which reads like an introduction to the other, so vividly does it refer to the vices of craftsmen rather than to those of Cockayne. Here shall Jacke charde, my brother Robyn by 11 With Myllers and bakers that weyght and niesure hate All stelynge taylcrs : as Sopor; and Manshyll Receyve theyr rowme. Most of the dramatic incident is suggested by this chapter as it appears in Barclay, with some hints how- ever from the prologue. The spirited account of the Fools rushing in from all sides to get a place in the ship, (Brandt, Prol. v. 20 ff, Barclay, ed. Jamieson, i. 13), has furnished the framework of the first part of Cock Lorell., where Cock receives the applicants for admission as they successively appear, and especially the vivid picture on p. 8 : Then Cocke caste a syde his hedc, And saw the strctcs all over sprede- That to his bote wolde come. The numbers left behind, who struggle for precedence, or wait vainly on the shore, (Brandt u.s., ^ Ein schiff viikht die nit all };etragen Die ydz siiul in dcr narrevzal,' Barclay: They run to our shyp,...we are full lade and yet forsoth I thynke A thousand are hchynde whom we may not re- ' Lochcr calls the Schliiraffcnschiff • I.atina navis sen barca so- cialis,' adding that it is intended for ail who h.ivc imt siciue/- of Cockayne, which drifts about at the mercy of every accident ; while it is significantly added that ' whom she hateth shall over the sea boorde skyp,' — like the unfortunate Cockayne mariners who fall victims to Scylla or the Laestrygones. The blind chance to which Brandt's light-hearted sailors abandon the guid- ance of their ship is in fact personified in the ' Fortune' who guides the Bowge of Court and enjoys the absolute confidence of its crew. Skelton has thus, in my view, used the Ship of Fools in a manner curiously analogous to that of the author of Cock Lorell. There it was the chapter on idle tradesmen, as here it is that on flattering courtiers, which supplies or suggests the personnel of the crew, while in both, on the other hand, their bearing on the voyage, and the fortune and destiny of the ship are modelled on the impressive but quite unconnected episode of the Schlurajfenschiff. The ship which proves so unfaithful to the confidence of the Fools of Cockayne, is for Brandt the type of in- security : Skelton makes it the symbol of what in his view was the most unstable of human things, court- favour, crowds its deck with the only apparently 'subtyl' VI.] BEGGAR-LITERATURE. 357 persons who put their trust in it, and typifies its insta- bility by setting Fortune at the helm, — the allegorical equivalent, as I have already suggested, of the ' blind chance' which controls the destinies of the Ship of Cockayne. III. What was after all to be the fate of tlie Ship? This Beggars. was a topic which as we have seen both Skelton and the author of Cock Lorell had somewhat lightly touched and which Brandt, except in a single case, had left to be in- ferred from the general bias of his satire. In other words, the prospective ruin of the race of Fools, Knaves, Courtiers, remained at the most a looming catastrophe in the dim and distant future. It was reserved for a London man of business to invert this course, by bringing what may be called the economic aspect of Folly into the immediate foreground, and introducing an analysis of the forms of worldly foolishness by a vivid picture of the ruin and beggary to which they led. The plan of the Hye Way to the Spyttel-House^ is ex- Coiiland : tremely simple, but not ineffective. Copland takes refuge ^ '"^ '-^^''^ from a passmg shower m the porch of the Spyttcl-house, spviicl- and falls into a conversation with the jjorter, suggested ■^^""J^'"'- by the motley throng of ' peoijle, as me thought, of very poore estate. ..with bag and staff, both croked, lame and biyndc' who beg admission at the doors. Is it open to all, Copland inquires, to come there for a night's lodging, — 'loscis' for instance, 'niyghty bcggers and ■ Hazlilt's Remains, vol. iv. p. i (T. Cf. also Dr I-urnivaH's account of it in his valuable Captain Cox volume, p. cii f. It will be seen that my analysis somewhat differs from his. •y 58 T//E SHIP OF FOOLS. [chap. vacabonds,' and the whole race of vagrants and impos- tors? This leads to a number of very graphic sketches' of vagrant life; the old soldiers, real or feigned", the shabby scholars^ the itinerant quacks \ And then, be- coming impatient of the porter's loquacity, Copland begs for a more summary account 'of all folk in generall That come the hye way to the hospytall.' The porter agrees, and, with a warning that it will be tedious, launches out into a detailed description of the classes that, as we should say, are 'on the road to ruin,' which occupies the remaining half of the poem, and constitutes its raison d'etre'. It is with this latter part that we are specially con- cerned. A palpable difference separates it from all that goes before. There is nothing in the first five hundred lines to suggest that Copland was doing other than versify his reminiscences of an actual incident and an actual con- versation. The wholly inartificial incident itself and the date, perfectly void of significance, which he assigns to it are not characteristic of deliberate invention. And the porter's talk is genuine talk; with all his discursiveness, he tells for the most part only what might be supposed to engage his hearer's curiosity if not to enlarge his knowledge. He does not recite moral commonplaces, he does not assume the accent of the professional moral reformer whose business is merely to reiterate things liable to be ignored rather than forgotten. He does not, in a word, pass from conversation to sermon or satire. With the second part however this is hardly the case. ' I cannot agree with Mr Ilazlitt that the literary merit of the dialogue is 'of an infinitesimal kind.' It is one of the most vivid and vigorous productions of the time. ^ V. 279 ff. 2 V. 391 ff. * V. 430 ff. * vv. 565—1089. VI.] COPLAND'S 'THE HYE ]VAY\ 359 Copland, no doubt, keeps up the illusion very well. He puts his questions and receives the replies with the same ingenuous curiosity as before. But that does not obscure the fact that the talk which was before full of minute detail and special knowledge, is now, for the most part, such as any close observer of the world at large might arrive at for himself. The opening verses strike the note of this changed manner at once; for they are almost identical with the opening stanza of Lydgate's enumera- tion of Fools. The chief of foolis, as men in bokis redithe, And able in his foly to hold residence, Is he that nowther lovithe God ne dredithe. Nor to his chirche hathe none advertence, Ne to his seyntes dothe no reverence. To fader and moder dothe no benevolence, And also hath disdayn to folke in poverte, Enrolle up his patent, for he shall never the'. This is Copland's version : There cometh in this vyagc They that toward God have no courage, And to his worde gyve none advertence; Eke to father and mother do not reverence ; They that despysc folk in adversyte". The Ilye Way catalogue of prospective paupers is thus tacitly connected at the outset with the traditional lists of Fools. The remainder does not belie the analogy. For it becomes obvious as we proceed that it is not, as it professes, a catalogue of prospective i)au|)crs at all, but of those only whom their own vice or fatuity leads to pauperism ; not a summary (;f 'all folk in gcnerall that come the hye way to the hosf)ytall,' but only of those * Lydgatc, Order of Fools, vv. 9 — 16. ' Ilyc Wayc, vv. 573—7- 360 THE SHIP OF FOOLS. [ciiAP. who incur this 'vyage' by their own folly. Yet a ho7ia fide discussion of the grounds of poverty in the fourth decade of the sixteenth century could hardly have ig- nored the cftects of enclosure, or of the economic tyranny which had just before been exposed with trumpet-tongue in the Supplication of the Beggars and the Dialogue of a Gentleman with a Husbandman. The Hye IVaj, in spite of the compassion for poverty displayed at the outset, contains no allusion to such things. Barely two or three of Copland's three score incur their ruin innocently. The rest fall easily into a classification analogous to that adopted for the Ship of Fools. Thus we have a class of more or less criminal or riotous offenders: the irreligious', the vicious priest^, the glutton^ the drunkard*, the lecher*, the pander", the swearer ^ the slothful", the adulterator of food^ The others fall generally in two groups, — the * fools ' of apathy or of presumption. They give too much liberty to their children'", or their wives", or their servants'", or their debtors '^ they neglect their estates'*, or their households'^, or they help others when they are in more need of being helped themselves'", go to law for trifling causes, draining their purses in bribes before the trial '^, or in costs after it'"; they take barren forms at extravagant rentals'", or marry before they have the I V. 574. 2 V, 583 f. 3 V. 8i8f. ^ V. 914 f. "5 V. 830 f. « V. 687 f. 7 V. 850 f. 8 V. 866 f. 9 V. 693 f. 1" V. 806 f., Ship of Fools, cap. 6. II V. 736 f., and Gyl of Brentford. " V. 768 f. " V. 802 f. i-i V. 613 f. " V. 824 f. ^^ V. 727 f., Gyl of Brentford, passim ; Ship of Fools, cap. 58. ^^ V. 619 f., cf. Ship of Fools, cap. 71. 18 V. 637 f. ly iv. 786 f. VI.] COPLAND AND BRANDT. 361 means', or court a reputation for generosity by giving unnecessary sureties'. At the same time it is clear that the scope of Cop- land's satire is narrower than Brandt's l His subject is beggary and he keeps within the limits of the forms of Folly which issue in it. He excludes therefore both the success- ful criminal and also his less fortunate brother whom the ' road to ruin ' conducts not to the Spyttel-House but to Tyburn^ ; while Brandt's scheme, which took account of the punishments of another world — where, as he warns one of his Fools, ' thou shalt have gall a thousand-fold for thy little honey-drop here,' — could have included the entire range of crime*. ^ V. 700 f., and Gyl of Brentford. - v. 706 f. ' As a direct proof of familiarity with llie S/i//>, I may ([uote the illustration of mistaken self-neglect : Brandt, cap. 58, sj'n selbs vcrgcsscn: Wcr leschen will eyns andern husz So im die flamm schleht oben usz Und brennt das syn in alle macht Dcr hat uff syn nutz wcnig acht. Copland, v. 724 f. They that dooth to other folkes good dede And hath thcmsclfc of other folkc more node, And quencheth the fyrc of another place, And Icvcth his owne, that is in wors cacc, When it is brent, and wotctli nut wlierc to lye. * Cf. vv. 882 f., where the extortioners and thieves are deli- berately excluded. So the envious, for a different reason, v. 982. All three are included in the Ship of Fools. Cf. also, in the latter, as instances conspicuously outside Copland's scheme, the fools that marry for wealth (I'arclay, I. 247), and those that take many licnelices (ib. i. 156). " Another source of divergence is that Copland's plan confined him strictly to those whose folly lirings disaster on themselves pri- marily. Thus IJrandt's idle servant (cap. 81) is blamed for im- poverishing his master, Copland's (v. 778) for ruining himself. Fools. 362 THE Sllir OF FOOLS. [ciiAi'. In this deviation, however, Copland has merely, like the author of the Cock Lore/l OiWd. Skelton before him, ap- plied the idea of a series of Fools to a particular class. His are the fools who come to beggary, as theirs are the fools of commerce and of the court. IV. Orders About the time when Copland was thus attempting '? to classify the world of beorgars, the beggars were de- KnAVES . •' toft > toto AND veloping an actual classification of their own, the full disclosure of which, a quarter of a century later, took respectable England by surprise and contributed a quite novel element to the methods, as well as to the ma- terials of social satire. These vagrants and outcasts, the debris of organised society, had organised themselves. They had official chiefs and various grades of subordinate rank, each with nicely defined powers and privileges, and bearing enigmatic titles which enhanced the vague prestige which they inspired in the uninitiated public. No wonder that to the printer Awdeley, who first gave a detailed account of the system, it at once recalled the most celebrated English tradition of the kind, the 'Order of Knaves' founded by the rogue Cock Lorell ; and that he called his exposition, with direct allusion to this, the ' Fraternity of Vagabonds'.' It was another evidence of ^ To leave no doubt about this, he introduced the beggar-chief or 'Upriglit man,' on his title page, holding fraternal colloquy with the king of thieves : — Our brotherhood of vacabondes If you would know where dwell In Gravesend Barge which seldome standes The talke wyll shew ryght well. VI.] THE 'QUARTERN OF KNAVES'. l^l the same reminiscence that he appended to it a new, and in part I suspect original, version of the Order of Knaves itself. The Quartern of Knaves, or sen'ing-men, thus closely Awdcley : associated with the Fraternity, belongs nevertheless to a ' Q'l^^rtciu . . . . rr ofAuai'cs. distmct literary genus. The latter is a matter-of-fact account of a real society, an abstract of titles and offices, the first sketch of an Alsatian Debrett. The other is a satirical classification of social types, like the ' Bote' or the ' S/iip.' Both take the form of a catalogue raisonnc of cant-titles, but they differ as a glossary of names differs from a discursive explanation of nick-names. The Vagabonds' titles are of their own coinage, invented by rogues for rogues, with an eye, as a rule, either to dis- guise or to euphemism. Those of the 'knaves,' on the contrary, are in the main the objurgatory epithets of their masters, — brief and sarcastic catchwords out of the im- memorial bill of charges against those that serve. Hence we have, instead of the mere descriptive sketches of the Fraternity, a series of satirical characters : Unthrift, for example, ' that will not put his wearing clothes to wash- ing, nor black his own shoes' (No. 22); Ungracious, he ' that by his own will will bear no manner of service, without he be compelled thereunto by his rulers' (it,); Numjuam (24) — ' he that when his master sendcth him on his errand, lie wil not come again for an hour or 2,' — a good comment on the familiar exclamation of an impatient master in tlic dramatists (' When, Lucius, wlicnV &c.) ; Obloquium (6) 'hee that will To which 'Cock I^orrel answcrclh:' Some orders of my knaves also In that IJargc shall yc fyndc : For nowhere shall yc walke I trowe But ye shall see their kyndc. 364 THE SHIP OF FOOLS. [chap. take a tale out of his master's mouth and tell it him- self '.' The Quartern of Serving-men thus added yet another to the English class-satires. Connected with the Ship of Fools only through the link of Cock Lordl's Bote, it approximated, in a certain matter-of-fact way, more nearly than either of these famous books, to the social satire of the next century. Neither of them dealt very largely in pure analysis of character. In the Bote it is willingly sacrificed to description, in the Ship to morals and parallels. Awdeley's efforts in this kind it will be seen are wholly unpretending as art, but they were quite clear and decided in method. They were a step, distinct, how- ever minute, in the long and slow advance of literary reahsm, in the better sense, upon the territory of me- diaeval allegory. This advance was stimulated by every influence \vhich led to the study of society at first hand ; and we owe not a little to the maligned vagabonds whose eccentric life drew them perforce into literature. The most malicious study of a real rogue differs from a mere effort to personify roguery ; and tliough an allegori- cal meaning might still be conceivably attached, yet every fresh trait made it both harder to secure and easier to dispense with. Thf While the order of 'Knaves' was thus preparing to Tiveiity j-ipen into a satire of manners, the older and more five Orders ^ ' of Fools, famous order of Fools was undergoing a revolution of 1 Cf. also, especially, Jefrey Godsfo the swearer, Ingralus the unthankful, Xichol Hartles, who 'when he should do ought for his master his heart faileth him.' Is it credible that such names as these I have quoted, figured in the list of a professional rogue? Or did Awdeley, as I should rather conjecture, revise and supplement the original list? This is supported Ijy the fact that the older tradition knew of only twenty four orders of knaves (Copland's Hye Way, V. 1065). VI.] 'THE XXV ORDERS OF FOOLES\ ^6 O'' form. The fantastic literary fashion of 'quarterns,' which had converted the 'twenty-four' knaves into twenty-five, did not spare the 'one order, without number, of Fools'.' Gyl of Brentford's foolish legatees are already an exact quartern ; the first count producing twenty-four, — ' nay, set in one mo, she interposes, to make a hole quarteron -;' and the twenty-five orders of Fools here tacitly an- nounced, are at length assumed without question in the well-known and important ballad of which I have now to speak. The ballad of the 'xxv orders of Fooles^' is at- tached even more closely to the Ship than the parallel * quartern ' of knaves is to the Bote. If Cock Lorell 'confirmed' the latter, if his 'knaves' were to be met in the same company, the new twenty-five orders of fools were entirely recruited from Brandt's crew. Not only are their characters directly suggested by as many chap- ters in the Ship of Fools, but in nearly every case they are described more or less in Barclay's words. Thus the sixth Fool, who preaches without practising, is described by the author of the ballad : He is a foolc which to others doth preach and tell, And yet this foolc is ready himself to go unto hell. obviously from Barclay's introductory stanza to the chapter on Fools of this class : So he is mad which to other doth preche and tell The wayc to hcvyn, and hym selfe golh to hell — So, e.g. Fool [vii] : lie is a ffjole, and ever be shall, That others judgcth and himself worst of all — ' In the //ye IVny, v. 1069. ' Gyl of /imit/oni'i Tcstaiitciit, v. 214. ' Reprinted by the I'hilobiblon .Society, Old Ballads and Brand- sides, p. 128 f. 366 THE SHIP OF FOOLS. [chap. is from Barclay's corresponding chapter (i. 152) : He is a folc, and onys shall have a fall Syns he wyll other juj^e, hym sclfe yet worst of all. Fool [xil.] : This fooles golde is his God, wrongfullye got, — corresponds to Barclay [i. 29] : Gold is your god, ryches gotten wrongfully. Nearly every stanza is constructed on the same prin- ciple'. The ballad is thus a mere epitome of the S/iip ' The following list will give a fairly complete notion of the composition of the piece. The references arc to the chapters of Brandt, and to the page and volume of Barclay (ed. Jamieson). Fool I. Sins against right and Iaw=;Cap. 47 (B i. 2t,o) von Jem wcg der seligkcit. II. cannot get wisdom with age = Cap. 5 (B i. 47) von alt ten narren. III. causes lying and slander = Cap. 7 (B i. ^^vonzwietracht- maehen. IV. always borrowing = Cap. 25 (B i. 133) zti borg tiff 91 e men. V. disdains wisdom = Cap. 8 (B i. 57) nit volgeii gutem rat. VI. preaches and does not practice=Cap. 21 (B i. iii) ander stroffen nnd selb tkun. VII. judges others = Cap. 29 (B I. 152) der ander Hit urteilt. VIII. eschews wisdom^Cap. 107 (B 11. 281) von Ion der ivisslieit. IX. scorns neighbours = Cap. ?. X. cannot keep secrets = Cap. 51 (B i. 243), heymlikeyt verschivigcn. XI. improvident for age = Cap. 70 (B 11. 43) nit fiirsehen by zyt. XII. avaricious = Cap. 3 (B i. 29) von gyttikeyt. XIII. delights in strife = Cap. 71 (B li. 48) zancken tind zu gericht gon. VI.] 'GYL OF BRENTFORD'. 367 of Fools, and to all appearance an epitome made at hap- hazard by some one quite free from the dominant an- tipathy to certain types of Folly which so powerfully colours the choice of Brandt and Lydgate. It is quite without bias, — and without savour. Both qualities be- come still more palpable when it is compared with the rich and nervous humour of the earlier and native (juartern in Gyl of Bren/ford. There the changes are rung upon a genuine English conception of folly through a host of pleasant proverbs, — the folly, half absent- minded blundering half short-sighted imprudence, of the man who lends his horse and walks himself, gives all and keeps nothing, forgets his fork when he goes out to dine, bids his friend drink first when he is thirsty, or in a score of similar ways violates the sturdy, honest, un- chivalrous self-regard of middle-class England'. But this XI\'. foolish messenger = Cap. 80 (B il. 86) von narrehter botschafft. XV. neglects divine punishments = Cap. 88 (B 11. 136) von flag und sttoff gottes. X\'I. disobeys parents-^ Cap. f)o(B 11. i ^~,) ere vatUr und mutter. XVII. natler = Cap. 100 (B 11. 210) von falbcm hcngst strcichen. XVIII. credulous^?. XIX. prevents neighliours doing good = Cap. 105 (B ir. 235) von hyndcrnisi dcs gut ten. XX. seeks no remedy in mi.sfurtune — Cap. 109 (1! 11. 241;) vcrachtung ungefcls. XXI. slanders = Cap. 53 (B I. 252) von nid und Imssz. X.XII. behaves ill at tal>le = Cap. iioa (15 11. 259) von discha unzucht. XXIII. seeming wise = ?. XXIV. rashly risks deaths Cap. 45 (B i. 225) von muludlUgcm ungcjtll. XXV. walks about in church = Cap. 44 (B 1. 210) gcbraclit in dcr kirclun. ' Cf. I'r Furnivall's short criticism in his Co/^tdin Cox, ji. ciii., as well as his (privately printed) edition of it. 368 THE SHIP OF FOOLS. [chap. old English quartern of Fools was now ousted from its place by the epitomised Brandt, as Lydgate, the father of English Fool literature, had been ousted by Brandt himself. The English Fools were driven from their own order, and the German Fools installed in their place. We have no more vivid illustration of the popularity of the Ship of Fools, which it remains to follow in its final phase. V. The Ship The Ship of Fools shared with no second English book THELATER °*" '^^^ ^^^^ ^^^ pHvilcgc of being read for nearly a century Eliza- after it was written. Skelton was perhaps better re- KEiHAN . iiieiT^^i^gj-gfj i\\^n Barclay, but it was a half-mythical jest- book rather than his own verse which kept his memory green; and the question 'Who now reads Skelton?' might probably have been asked without serious error fifty years before Cowley asked it. The Ship of Fools on the other hand had a sufficient combination of attractive qualities to resist, or rather to appeal successively to, the changing fashions of several generations. A preacher's manual to the merry Vicar of Diss, a model of social satire to the author of Cock Lorell and his successors, it was to a much larger public a book of sheer amuse- ment, — a book put on the same shelf with romances and jest-books, with Howlglass and the C. Mery Tales. Lane- ham, it is true, classes it among the 'philosophical' books of Captain Cox's library, but ' philosophy ' with Captain Cox and Laneham meant Gyl of Brentfoi-d rather than More or Elyot. 'We want not also,' wrote another country-gentleman some years after Laneham's well- known letters, ' pleasant rnad-headed knaves that bee properly learned and well-read in diverse pleasant bookes I VI.] BRANDT AND THE EMBLEMATISTS. 369 and good authors ; as Sir Guy of Warwick, the Four Sons of Aman, the Ship of Fooles, the Budget of De- maundes, &c. . . . ". This reputation it doubtless owed entirely to the wood-cuts. And it is probable that the wood-cuts facilitated its popularity with that somewhat different class of readers of Laneham's generation who favoured the new literary fashion of Emblem-books. Brandt wrote a (juarter of a century before Alciatus, the Emhlem- accepted founder of emblem-literature; but the majority ^''°^^' of his wood-cuts are nevertheless genuine emblems, — literal representations, that is, of symbolic sayings, which differ from later specimens only in so far, that their symbolism is drawn from German proverbs and not from ancient fables. And Brandt's pecuUar pessimism, again, is only distinguished by its absolute sincerity from the official despondency of the Emblematists ; the un- certainty of the future, the littleness of man, the im- minence of death, is the first article in his creed as in their profession ; and one of Brandt's most forcible illustrations of it — Death and the Fool — was adopted not only into the most famous of all German l^nblem- books, the Dance of Death, but into the common stock of European imagery ^ It may thus have been no ac- cident that the first English Emblem-book, Van der Noot's Theatre fur Voluptuous Worldlings, was succeeded in a few months by a new edition of the Ship of Fools ; and that in this new edition Barclay's clumsy Englisli rime- royal is accomj)anied, as if to propitiate more elegant tastes, by Eo( her's Latin version in elegiacs, the conven- ' The English courtier mid the country-gentlemati , iiul edition, 1586. ' A'arrenschiJjF, cajj. ^f,, nit vorsehtu ilcn tod (a Kool ovLTtaitcn by the skeleton Death and trying to elude liiin), emhodieil in later editions of the Todteulatiz, as 'Der Nam' H. 24 SJO THE SHIP OF FOOLS. [cuap. tional metre of Emblem-writing. But the Ship of Fools had less fragile and casual grounds of popularity than this. The Brandtian 'Ship' was never again imitated on the same scale as is the Bote or the Bowge of Court^, but it survived even in the palmy days of the drama as an inex- haustible source of allusion. It would even seem to have found its way into the comic legend-lore of London, to have been localised in the Thames, and been seen regularly plying for hire between Billingsgate and Gravesend in the form of the well-known ' Gravesend barge.' Awdeley, as we saw, had already treated this barge as the equivalent of Cock Lorell's Boat, itself merely a local Ship of Fools; and among the dramatists the Thames is the almost in- variable highway of the Shij). Nash makes it call at the Isle of Dogs^; Greene brings it down from Oxford to Bankside"''; and perhaps it is not too bold to detect a 1 The ' ballett against the Ship of Fooles ' (Sta. Feg. 1 567-8) was however presumably a satire upon a collection of ' Fools ' in the manner of the 'XXV Orders,'' but using the Ship as framework. It can hardly have been an attack upon the book. ^ 'Here's a coil about Dogs without wit,' says Summers, in Nash's Summers' last Will and Testament, provoked by Orion's praise of dogs; 'if I had thought the Ship of Fools would stay to take in fresh water at the isle of Dogs, I would have furnished it with a whole kennel of collections to the purpose.' •^ ' I will make a ship,' says Ralph to the Oxford doctors in Fiiar Bacon, ' that shall hold all your colleges, and so carry away the «i«/versity with a fair wind to the bank side in Southwark.' 'And I,' adds Miles, ' Will conjure and charm. To keep you from harm ; That iitriim horum mavis, V'our very great navis, Like Barclay's ship, From Oxford do skip With colleges and schools. Full laden with fools.' VI.] THE SHIP LOCALISED. 171 suggestion of this association in the voyage to Graves- end, which the Cobler of Canterbury and his friends beguile with stories of Fools of a particular class, — the 'eight orders of Cuckolds". Another London insti- tution seems to have also been constituted a local Ship of Fools. From at least the middle of the sixteenth century the 'voyage' of the cart of condemned criminals from Newgate to Tyburn was a current jest, obvious to any one familiar with the doomed ship bound for Nar- ragonia". Less specific allusions abound. Whether a ' At the same time the Cobler of Canterbury (1590) like its suc- cessor the Tincker of Turvey, is of course a direct imitation of the method of the Canterbury Tales. And it is not to be forgotten that a voyage, with its enforced leisure, is one of the most natural of frames for a series of stories like this. Clough's Mari Mog-uo will occur to every one ; IVesttuard for Smelts is a contemporary ex- ample more in point, where a set of fishwives tell tales to their Thames waterman as he rows them home. - Cf. e.g. the close of the Ballad against Unthrifts, I'liilobiblon .Soc: Ballads and Broadsides, p. 226 f. * Then some at Newgate do take ship Sailing ful fast up Holborne Hil ; And at Tiborn their ankers picke, F"ul sore indeed against theyr wil.' .So S. Rowlands, Knave of Clubs: 'A i)olitif|ue Theefe,' ad Hn. ' for Newgate voyage bound.' Can this tr.-insilion have Jjccn .i-ssisted l)y a mere mistake? Barclay's chapter on the 'way of felicitie ' contains a dcscrijjtion of the cart of sin. This cart is in the woodcut drawn by the 'sinner,' but Barclay's words arc ambiguous, and the authcil;,'ltrtc 7'i.u/izuc/U Grobiatii^ wliich is quoted in full in Zarntkc's Narremchiff, Einl. * Grobianus' Tischzucht bin ich f^cnant. Den lUiidon iin Seiu- orden wolbckant. [Von W. S.] WiikcfuKi--, i.=;.^S. It is dated ominously at i A.M., on the Carncval nij^hl, 'so I)lnircn und (Icckcn gcmeiniglicli yhr grrissies Kcgiment halten.' * So Dedekind, Grobianus, 15k. 11. cli. },. 384 G ROB I ANUS AND GROBIANISM. [chap. honour, but to lie all his days with the sow upon the dung-hill, to sufter shame, poverty and contempt, and miserably die, — and may God the Lord,' adds the writer, his serious purpose suddenly breaking through his ironi- cal mask, ' punish such and more sins Here, and spare them There. Amen.' This jeu (Tesprit is chiefly remarkable as a precursor of the more famous book of Dedekind. Its humour lies in the grave and legal precision with which, like the author of the famous Qi/odlihets of the previous genera- tion, it tabulates indecencies and classifies improprieties. Its dry and formal irony nowhere expands into dramatic life, nowhere recalls, for instance, the vivid pictures of society in which Swift, the great master of this literary genre, sarcastically taught his contemporaries how 7iot to speak'. F. Dede- Far inferior in this respect to Swift was likewise, no !x!"^! : doubt, the imposing structure which, eleven years after Crobianiii, ' . . . 1549. the Tischziuht, Frederick Dedekind reared on its founda- tion. Yet it was crowded with suggestive material, which at more than one point needs only to be released from the formal outlines imposed by the plan to become the literary equivalent of Hogarth or Jan Steen. It carries us through all the stages of the Grobian's day ; his mid- day rising, his simple toilette ; — the hands and face scru- pulously unwashed, the hair uncut, ' for so they wore it in the golden age".' And so we pass rapidly to the central institution of Grobianism, — the table, every phase and vicissitude of which is exhaustively reviewed. The very servant who waits has two chapters of instruction, 1 Swift : A Complete Collection of Genteel and ingenious conver- satioti, according to the most polite mode and method, now used at Court and in the best companies of England, 2 Book I. ch. I. VII.] DEDEK'IND'S ' GROBIANUS: 385 in which he learns how to appear in rags, to catch flies when he should be handing dishes, to spill all he carries, and devour all he can get, and defy soap and water*. But it is the guests and their host on whom the keenest and most constant satire is focussed. When invited out, for instance, the true Grobian is to take every precaution against an unsatisfactory dinner. Before giving his consent, he demands a list of the dishes and a programme of the music, makes sure that the pies will be excellent and the ladies fair, and, when quite satisfied on these heads, says 'well, I will come.' When the day arrives, he takes a copy of the bill of fare with him; he is then able to check the dishes as they appear, to make his choice before they are un- covered, and above all to secure that none is kept back. If this should happen, he is still equal to the occasion, and, storming and fuming at the treachery of his host, commands that the defaulter be instantly fetched in'. 'We are in no mind to have our dinner docked of a dish ; bring the pasties, bring the cakes ! — Do ye serve your guests with crab-apples?' Whereat the host greatly abashed, is fain to go forth and bring out his whole store himself'. If a Grobian, liowever, he has his turn. It is for him to greet any less wel- come guest at tlie outset with the assurance that any invitation which he had received was sent in a drunken fit and meant nothing\ ' If the guests are not complete when the hour for dinner strikes, he takes his scat never- theless, orders in the dishes, and relegates late-comers to a trencher of dry bread by the stove, or i)etter slill, he has his gates bolted and barred, and if the guests have to ' Book I. capp. 3, 8. ■* i''. Schcidt only. « IJk. H. cap. I. * Uk. 11. cap. 9. M. 25 1 ^^ I ■ 386 CROBIANUS AND GROBIANISM. [chap. go empty away it will not hurt his wine. Even if they are punctual, he is by no means to bid them welcome, but to talk loudly of his expensive dishes, — ' a splendid eel, but it cost me dear,' — and what stores of spice, saffron and sugar have been used and lavished on them, and how his wife has cooked them in her own incom- parable way'. C. Scheldt: Dedekind is one of the half-dozen figures in literature Grobiiimis, ^^^^^ \\znq been outshone by their translators, and one of the two or three who have been unaffectedly grateful for it. Kaspar Scheidt, a scholar of high talent at Worms, hailed the Latin Grobianus with delight, and after pro- ducing a German version, teeming with new additions, mostly admirable, of his own, dedicated it to the young student in a letter of enthusiastic admiration, which might have disarmed a more captious vanity than Dede- kind's. ' For even as musicians, he writes, do oft times interpose a flourish of their own in the score set down for them, yet alway fall again into the measure, so have I touched nothing of your meaning and intention.' A year later Dedekind published an enlarged second edition of his own book, in which, like Schiller in a parallel case, he adopted a large number of his translator's sug- gestions. By far the most important of Scheldt's contributions is a prologue, which serves both as introduction and as setting to the mock-code. ' Master Grobianus,' a ' cunning carver of spoons and bearer of blocks' is, in other words, the master of a Grobian school. But the labour of ^ Bk. II. cap. 9. I adopt here the more graphic version of Scheidt. ^ Grohiamis, Von groben silten tnid tmhbjlichcn gebcrden,... Worms. The capital edition with introduction, by G. Milchsack, among Niemayer's Neudriicke has been of great use. VII.] S CHE IDT AND BRANDT. 3''"- of fools or rogues was faded and familiar; but there was still piquancy in the device of a text-book of etiquette for their peculiar use. Brandt's 'Saint Grobian' had indeed already appeared in Barclay, who represents him, in even fuller detail, as the new 'Saint' to whose 'vile tciii])le renneth yonge and olde, men, women, mayden, and with them many a childc, worshij>ping his festis with theyr langage dcfyldc'; but the idea was not in the manner of . English satire, and had remained barren. Awdeley, the first English satirist to deal with manners rather than morals, came near tiic (irobian type in one or two of his 'knaves,' such as 'Unthrift' the careless and 'Green ' For the (Iclailc'l bibliography sec Miichsack's edition of Schciflt. ' Grohianisme occurs, for instance, in Cotgravc (161 1), — rendered by 'grol)ianism, slovenliness, unmannerly parts or beastliness.' ' The SchooU of Sloveuric : Calo turned -oroii^i^ side outward... By R. S. (ient. Milchsack (Grobianus p. xxxii) (juotes this title with no less than four errors, and transforms the author, 'K. .S., Gent.' into 'K. J, .Sent.' '.Scnts Uebersct/ung' of Dedekind may be classified with the works of ' Dr Ebcnda.' 390 GROBIANUS AND GROBIANISM. [ciiai-. AVinchard' the slovenly; but of 'Grobianism' either as a word or as a single specific vice he knows nothing. And it cannot be said that fifty years later, what Dedekind meant by Grobianism was a more obvious and natural subject for English satire. The combination of brutal manners and slovenly habits was scarcely normal in the England of James I. Grobianorum infinihis est Humerus would hardly have summed up the daily observation of a Jonson and a Decker. Whatever might be the case among the poorer classes,- — whom it would have been as pointless to ridicule for their bad clothes or rough ways as for their poverty, — the middle and upper classes were not generally liable to the charge which they themselves habitually brought against the countrymen of Dedekind. It was only in sections and fragments that Englisli society adopted Grobianus ; and then not so much from any stubborn remnant of unsubdued barbarism as from some whim of fashion or of philosophy, an affectation of courtly Jiautew, an enthusiasm for Arcadian simplicity. The Grobian with overbearing manners is of irre- proachable dress; the ill-dressed Grobian is some 'mere scholar' who despises forms, but who is neither a glutton nor a ribald ; the Grobian who offends in all these ways belongs to some brotherhood of dilettanti misanthropes sworn to pursue unalloyed nature by eliminating civilisa- tion. The fop, the rusty scholar, the misanthrope, were the most available equivalents, in terms not of English lan- guage but of English society, for the exotic and unfamiliar creation of Dedekind; and they were in fact substituted, more or less explicitly, for it in the two remarkable English satires which I proceed to notice. Decker: Decker's GuVs Ilorn-booke, the best known and most T/ie Gtil s vivid satire of the popular school which immediately booke,\()0(). preceded the Theophrastians, was the result of a com- VII.] 'THE GUVS HORN-BOOKE: 39 1 promise which would be glaringly obvious even if the author had not candidly pointed it out. The book was begun, he tells us, long before upon the lines of Dede- kind. 'This tree of guls was planted long since ; but not taking root, could never bear till now.... It hath a relish of Grobianism, and tastes very strongly of it in the beginning; the reason thereof is, that having translated many books of that into English verse, and not greatly liking the subject, I altered the shape, and of a Dutch- man fashioned a mere Englishman.' And this English version of the 'Dutch' Grobian is, purely and simply, what Earle would have called the 'mere common' P^op, the empty and frivolous 'Town-gul' with whom the Grobian shares a certain cynical egoism of manner, without in the least sharing the subtle, half instinctive deference to fashion by which it is at once sustained and balanced. Iktween the two characters the whole book fluctuates, awkwardly enough. The opening chapter, as Decker says, 'tastes very strongly' of the Grobian. The 'saints' whom he appeals to for aid are those of mere grossness and brutality; — 'Sylvanus— father of ancient customs... and most beastly horse-tricks,' 'Comus, the clerk of gluttony's kitchen,' and 'homely but harmless Rusticity,' 'midwife of unmannerliness'.' The old world is ironically contrasted with the new, the plain and homely ways of the Saturnian age, when all men were Grobians, with the luxurious refinement of London. In the .second and third chapters the Grobian is still i)ronii- nent ; the 'young gallant' is advi.scd, as in Dedekind, to sleej) late, to wear his hair long, and to dress on cold mornings before the hall fire sans };hie. In the fourlli, however, the portrait begins decisively to change charac- ter, and a new subject emerge.s, of totally unlike habits ' Pioa-mium, 592 GROBIANUS AND GROBIANISM. [ciiAr and ideas, no regretter of the primitive age 'when all men were ' Grobians,' but the most fanatical devotee of the latest fashion. ' He that would strive to fashion his legs to his silk stockings, and his proud gait to his broad garters, let liim whiff down these observations, for if he once get to walk by the book — Paul's may be proud of him.' The fashionable promenade is the subject of a series of regu- lations. Decker warns his gallant at what hour to walk in the middle aisle, 'wherein the pictures of all the true fashionate and complemental gulls are,' frequently to 'make his tailor attend him there to note the new suits,' ...and to 'greet none unless his hat-band be of newer fashion than yours, and three degrees quainter'; to stay there not above four turns ; then to pass to the book- seller's, 'where if you cannot read you can smoke, and inquire who has writ against the divine weed ; ' to appear again after dinner, but (unlike the true Grobian) in a changed suit, ' then to correct your teeth with some (^uill or silver instrument, — it skills not whether you have dined or no,' — another trait impossible to the complete candour of Grobianism. In the fifth chapter ('At the ordinary') and the sixth ('At the play'), the common link between the two characters at length comes clearly into view. After riding to the dearest ordinary at the most fashionable hour (11.30), he is above all 'to eat impu- dently, for that is most gentlemanlike ; when your knight is upon his stewed mutton, be you presently, though you be but a captain, in the bosom of your goose,' &c. Then at the play, follows the familiar picture, so often drawn, of the loungers on the stage, ostentatiously late in arriv- ing, laughing at the most pathetic moment of a tragedy, trifling over their tobacco, jesting with their neighbours; no doubt the best illustration of Grobianism which the society of Jacobean London afforded. VII.] 'GROBIANA'S NUPTIALS: 393 Wholly different was the Grobianism of Jacobean Oxford, as it appears, caricatured by a contemporary Oxford hand, in the MS. drama of Grohiana's Nuptials. II. This piece, hitherto known chiefly from a brief and GroOiamis contemptuous notice in Dr Nott's edition of the Giirs "f "^ '• Hornbooke, is nothing more than a one-act interlude. Its plot is of the slightest. ' Old Grobian ' is the head of an Oxford' club of slovens, rusty pedants, and Mohocks, sworn enemies of good manners, from among whom he desires to choose a husband for his daughter, Grobiana. His Prologue gives a graphic description of tlic com- position of the club : — ' I nm he that hate manners worse than Timon hated men ; and what dill he hate them for? marry for their fooHsli, apisli, compli- ments, niceties, lispings, cringes.. ..I'll tell you, fellow Grobians, what our sport is to-night; you shall see the true shapes of men, not in the visor and shadow of garbs and postures, but very pure pate men, such as nature made 'em, such as ne'er swath'd their feet in stocks, for fear of the grain of their own bodies, whose beards and hair never impoverish'd the wearers, that banish wisely a l)arber as a superfluous member for the commonwealth.. ..Here's true and lionest friendship, no slight god speeds, but a how do you, so well set on you shall remember the salute a week after. We doff our heads sooner than our hats, and a nod includes all ceremony. Our scholars are right too, such as if you (Ii when he was at work upon his translation of the I3ible, probably at Zurich-; or the later and better known years 1540 — 48, when he lived as pastor of the church at Bcrgzabcrn. Dr .Mitchell, who has discussed this question apropos of the similar work of his countryman, John \\'cddcrburn, which was certainly produced between 1540 and 1546, de- cides for the later, and even urges that Wcddcrburn's book preceded Coverdale's. and that four iiymns, almost identical in the two, were adapted from iiis by Coverdale. For the earlier period is the fact already stated that the whole of his originals were pubhsiied by 1531. Tlic latest hymn that, in my opinion, he can be shown to have used, is Johann Agricola's 'Ich ruff zu dir' {Gcisl/ic/tr /.iiif,>\ l-2r- ' In the first c539> l>iit all suljsef|ucnt erlilions struck it f>ui, and Townsend testifies its al>sencc in I'onner's Kcfjislcrs. * On this period cf. Dr Ginsburg in Kilto's Did. of the Bible, art. 'Coverdale.' 40O APPENDIX I. furt, 1 531). The production of the years which followed, only less vigorous than that of the previous years, is wholly neglected. Luther himself, it is true, wrote little after 1530, but among his later hymns are two of such importance as the ' Vom himel hoch da kom ich her' (1535), and his version of the Lord's Prayer ('das deutsche I'atrem') 1539. As Coverdale has omitted several of Luthcrs hymns which must have been known to him, nothing can be inferred from his omission of the child's Christmas hymn ; but it is un- likely that if a Lutheran version of so important a part of the ritual as the Lord's Prayer had lain before him, he would have used inferior versions by obscure writers, like Moibanus and the anonymous poet of Erfurt, when he has carefully adopted Luther's rendering of the Creed and both his ren- derings of the Ten Commandments ^ It is also remarkable that Coverdalc's correspondence during the years 1540 — 8 with the hymn writer Conrad Huber, who later edited the Strassburg Gesangbuch of 1560, should contain no allusion to the hymns, on which Coverdale must, on the second theory, at that very time have been engaged. The same conclusion is suggested by a comparison with him of his Scottish rival in this field, Wedderburn. John Wedderburn, Coverdale's junior by some twenty years, probably fled from Scotland in 1540, when Coverdale was already old in exile and hardened in persecution. His ' Compendius bulk of godly and spiritual sangis-' is certainly superior in every way to his English rival's ; it is equally certain that it reflects a later epoch of German Ilymnology. Luther is represented by his later as well as his earlier work ^, and while he is still the most important contributor, his predominance is much less decided than is Coverdale's. ^ The ' Deutsche Patreni' was subsequently translated, according to Prof. Mitchell, by Coxc. * This was accessible to me only in the edition of 1600 (Edin- burgh). ^ His Paler nostcr o{ 1539 is the basis of the third, his 'Vom himel kom ich her' of the twelfth, of Wedderburn's hymns. COVEKDALE AND WEDDERBURN. 4OI The old associates of 1525 — 30 are reinforced by new- writers of 1535 — 40, —Hermann Bonn, Nicolaus Boie, Georg Gruenewald, Heinrich Witzstadt^. Finally, there is the evidence of the four pieces which, as noticed by Prof. Mitchell, are 'almost identical' in the English and the Scottish poet-. Prof. Mitchell decides that they belong to his own countryman, on the ground that he was, as everyone admits, the better poet, and that the common versions are, as he thinks, superior to the usual level of Coverdale. There is here no external evidence whatever ; and, with so narrow a field for comparison, internal evidence is almost necessarily inconclusive. The divergences in phrase and even in metre of the two versions are tolerably numerous, — more so than Dr Mitchell's lan- guage would suggest ; but they offer little ground for de- ciding whether it was the capable Wcdderburn who de- liberately improved upon the plodding Coverdale, or the plodding Coverdale who perversely deviated from the capa- ble VVedderburn. On the other hand, their coincidences offer one or two slight points of vantage. Wedderburn's rapid style has caught up, I think, certain Coverdalisms and Anglicisms, of which Coverdale's version would be the natural source. It would be hard to discover in his undis- puted work so genuine an example of the Coverdalian ' tag ' as occurs in his version of the Magnificat : For he has seen the low degree Of mee his hanrl -maiden trnulie — ' I take these identifications fnmi I'lof. Mitchell's book, hut have verified them in each case with Wackernagel : N. Boie's'O Gotl wir diinkai deiiicr f^iit^ (Magdeli. 1541, not 1543 as M. says); II. Bonn's 'O wir armcn Siindcr' (Magilcl). 1542, not 1543 as M. says); the ^ Nun horetid zit ir Christen lent' of Heinrich Wil/stadt (in Magdcl). book of 154 1 according to M.); Gruenewald ' A'ottit fur ZH niir' in *der ganze Psalter' 1537. ' These are: (i) The version of the Magnificat; (2) Agricola's ' Ich ruff zu dir'; (3) Creuziger's 'Ilerr Christ der eynig Gotlcs- zohn'; ^4) Psalms, 'Deus misereatur nostri.' H. 26 402 APPENDIX I. where Coverdale's rendering verbally corresponds ^ And, lastly, we have an instance of the most trustworthy of all kinds of evidence in cases of disputed priority, that of rhymes. The following stanza of the northern poet's Mag- nificat And helped his servants ane and all Even Israel hee has promesit. And to our fathers perpetuall Abraham and his seid — is easily explained if he had before him Coverdale's version, in a Southern dialect, in which sede can rhyme unimpeach- ably with protnysed. 1 For similar otiose uses of truly' in Coverdale, cf. e.g. his first Creed (twice), and second Creed (thrice). It is of course, a hneal descendant of the trewlie and verrament of the rhymed romances. APPENDIX II. Chilianus' Dorothea in Denmark. The sacred drama of Chilianus Millerstatinus on the Dorothea story, which occupies a somewhat obscure place among the beginnings of the modern Latin drama (cf. p. 79 f.), remained, with one exception, wholly unnoticed abroad. It is however associated with the first germs of dramatic art in Denmark, where it was translated by Chr. Hansen the first Dane of whom anything in the shape of drama survives. The translation exists in MS. only, and the work to which I owe my knowledge of it is so little accessible to English readers that a brief extract and paraphrase may not be unwelcome here. I quote from Nyerup's Bidrag til den datiske Digtekunsts Historie I. p. 147 ff., part of the criti- cal scene in which Dorothea is brought before Fabricius. ' I will make thee my wife,' says the prefect ; * a great honour for thee!' 'I am plighted to a gentle Bridegroom,' she replies, 'whose glory is over earth and heaven, and I have promised him to be true while I live. I take no other husband, 1 tell thee on my faith.'— ' In that, 'tis clear, thou followest the Christians.' — Dorothea reproaches liini with his unbelief in Christ who died for him. ' He was a liar,' retorts P'abricius, 'as any to be found in Jud;La.' Dorothea breaks into in- dignant protest. .She is threatened with torture. 'My body ye may torment, but my soul ye cannot harm ' : FcJ}. Jcg vil dig h.ive til niin Husfni kja.-re del skal dig hlivc til mogil [mcgcnj /l'>rc. Dor. Jcg haver lovct en ISrii'I^om fin, Som over Verdcn og Hiiunielen skin', 26 — 2 404 APPENDIX II. Og lovet hannem Kydskhed at b;vre, imedens jeg i Verden mon va;re. Jeg lover mig aldrig andcii Mand. Del siger jog dig paa min sandt. Fab. I dct du fcilger christne Klerke, dermed lader du dig meget mcerke. Dor. Ilvi forsmaar du Jesum Christ, Gud og Menneske alt for vist. Han taalde og Pine for dig og mig paa Korsets Tree, det siger jeg dig. Fab. Det var en Logner og utro Mand Som ban kunde findes i Jodeland. Dor. Skamme dig din fule llund, at tale telige [deslige] med din Mund. Orest. O du Skjoge, ti nu queer, for ikke for Herren slig Blcer [Larmen]. Vilt du ikke vore Gudcr Dsre, vi ville dig med Kjeppe og Ris Isere. Dor. Mit Legem kunne I pine og brrende, min Sjivl kunne I dog intet skjrende. It will be seen that style and metre were equally in an elementary condition in Denmark when Hansen applied them to render his not very powerful or stimulating original. APPENDIX III. The English Prose Versions of Fortunatus^ The first known versions of the romance of Fortunatus in English fall in the Litter half of the seventeenth century. The earliest of known date was printed in London in 1676 ; and a second, identical, edition of it appeared in 1683. Another version, without date, is placed by the British Museum Catalogue conjecturally in 1650. Both versions, though differing considerably, are ultimately derived from the Frankfurt edition of 1550. The earlier or Augsburg editions, with their ungermanised names and their slightly more copious incident, have had no influence. Nor, on the other hand, has the more recent translation in Dutch. The Fortunatus was translated at a time when Dutch was no longer the usual intermediary between English and German. The Dutch version diverges from the Frankfurt editions on which it was ultimately based, (i) in omitting numerous comments on unessential incidents usually at the ends of chapters, (2) in several new woodcuts, (3) in altering various proper names. Thus, the Dutch omits sentences at the ends of chapters II, IV, v, xiv, where the English (1676), like the German, version retains them. (Jr the Dutch version is simply less verbose, the English as before agreeing 1 Mr H.-iIliwcll has briefly discussed these in his Descriptive notices of linj^tish popular Histories, Percy Society, Vol. ■29, but apparently with no knowledge of the originals. 4O0 APPENDIX III. with the German. Thus the description of Fortunatus' early success is given thus in the three versions : — 'Nun, wie viel der Fiirsten und Herren edler knecht oder sonst dienei", mit ihn auff der Hochzeit gebracht hetten, so was doch keiner under ihn, des dienst und wesen gemeinlich Frauen und Mannen basz gefiel den F.' ' Onder hem alien was niemans dienst en manieren den Vrouwen en Mannen aangenamer dan F.' ' Although there were assembled at the wedding no small number of proper and comely servitors attending on the chief estates ; yet there was none of them all, whose service and behaviour was more commended than the service of F.' The English woodcuts, though fewer and poorer than the German, most frequently agree with them and differ from the Dutch. Cf. e.g. cuts of Lady Fortune giving Fortunatus the purse (p. 43 of English version) and that of Fortunatus' escape with the Hat (p. 108). Lastly, the following diver- gences in proper names appear decisive. The town to which Fortunatus seeks to escape is called in the German (1650) Lauffe/i, in the Dutch, Loweii. Only the former can have produced the English Lausaii. The town at which he arrives on his way to the Purgatory is called Waldrick, Maldric, Waldrink respectively ; the town at the Purgatory Wernicks^ Vcrnics and Va'iiecks. The Dutch names are here from the French version which has Maldric and Vernieu for these two towns. Of the two English versions that of 1676 is a tolerably faithful rendering, with a strong religious bias ; that of 1650 (.?) a free and conventional paraphrase by a man of letters and of the world. The former qualifies the bold mythology of the story in the interest of Christian piety, (substituting e.g. God for Fortune as the ruler of the universe) ; the latter freely curtails it in the interest of enlightened common sense. ' I found much childish and superfluous inventions, he says in the preface, intermingled also with some sparks of pro- fane superstition (according to the manner of penning used in that barbarous age;;... I thought it most convenient, by THE ENGLISH FORTUNATUS. 40/ rejecting what was unseemly, rather to collect an abstract of the substance thereof in a plain and English phrase, than to have respect to the literal translation.' A short specimen, from the opening of the chapter in which Fortunatus receives the purse, will illustrate their difference of manner. Here is the 1676 version : — ' A.s soon as he awaked, he saw standing before him a Fair and Beautiful Woman, muffled over her eyes. Wherefore he praised and thanked God devoutly, that yet he beheld some man-kind before his Death. And to the woman he said, I beseech thee sweet Virgin for the love of God to assist me, that I may come out of the wood, for this is the third day that I have here irksomely wandered without any meat, and herewith declared to her also what had chanced concerning the Bear. Then demanded she of him saying, Of what country art thou, and what moved thee to come hither? He answered I am of the Isle of Cyprus, and poverty hath con- strained me to wander, I force not greatly whither, until such time as God (when it pleaseth him) shall provide for me a com- petent living.' And this is the version of 1650 (?): — ' Fortunatus, being got out of the city of Orleance took his way towards Paris, when travelling through a huge forest, he on his rigiit hand perceived a beautiful creature in female Habit, sitting under a broad-spreading Beech-tree with a Vail over her Eyes, who as he came near, arose and crossed him in his way, at which he rejoiced not a little, for he had thought there had been nouglit l)iit Bears and wild Beasts in that place, liut looking steadfastly upon lier he began to ponder whether she might not Ijc a l'"airy or l)odily shape composed by delusion. But whilst he was in this doubt, she taking him l)y the hand, gently asked him whither he was going, upon whicii lie told her, desiring she would accompany him out of the wood.' INDEX. Abbot, The, of Canterbury, 250 Academy, The, of Strassburg, 102 ff. Ackerma)inaiis Boehmen, Der, 58 Acolastus, see Gnaphkus Acolastits his Aftcr-ivit, 159 n. Adamson, p., Archljp., 287 Aesk 1 1„ bishop, founder of Esrom monastery, 294 Aesoi' and Markolf, 260 Agricola, J., his hymns, 9, 19, 399; his tragedy on Hus, 112 n. Agriadtura Sacra, ¥AxQ!ioxaz.y&i'^, 121 f. Agkii'I'a, C, in I^hzabethan drama, 165 f . ; the master of Faustus, 194/.; opposes the witch-persecutions, 225 Albertus Galles, in Henslowe, Collier on, 172 n. Albertus Magnus, 165 Alciatus, a., the Emblematist, 3'>9 Alexanher VI., pope, legend of, 19/0". AMls,Pfaff, 245, 250, 272 f., and Ulenspiegel, 282 Andria of Terence translated, 107 Andromeda, Briilow's, 103 f. Antichrist, dramas on, i24n., 125 f. Antigone, The, 189 Antwerp, The Proud Woman of, and Friar Rush, 308 f. Apolda, The Smith of, 196 Arber, Prof. E., Roy's Rede me and he not wroth, 34ff. ; on Gascoigne, 150 Archipropheta, by N. Grimald, 70 n., 109, ii3f., 116 — 8 Aretino, L., his Poliscena, 83 Ariosto, his // Negroiiianle, 232 Aristophanes, translated by Frischlin, loi ; acted at Strass- burg, 102; — and Jonson, 318 f. Armin, R., the Nest of N'innies, 37.S ff- Arnim, a. v.,andP.rentano, Des Knabcn Wiindcrhorn, 3n. Artour, T., his Miindiis plnm- heus, 107; Microcosmits, ib. AscENSius, Badius, Nef des Folles, 340 n. Ascham, R., his use of dialogue, 32 ; his Account of the state of Germany, 168 Asotits, see Macropedius Athenaeus, on the Ship of Drunkards, 372 n. AuDELEY, J., on Markolf, 2618 n. Auersperg, governor of Carol- stadt, his victory at Siseg, 7 Aventine, J., Bavarian histo- rian, 169; on the Kalenberger, 272 n. AwDEi.EY, J., his Quarter7i of Knaves, 345, 362 fif. ; Fra- ternity of Vagabonds, 362 Ayrer, J., and Ulenspiegel, 249 n. INDEX. 409 Bacon, Friar, legend of, and Faustus, 190 ff. Bajazet, his fall, in English literature, 168, 175 Bale, John, xx, 28 n., 33 n.; his Cotifabulationes piierorum, 68 n. ; account of Radcliff, iiof. ; — and Grimald, 118; — and Kirchmayer, ii9ff. ; — translates the Pammachiiis, Ii9n., 131 f.; his English ' Comedies,' 132 ff. ; — the Three laws, ib. ; the K'ynge yohan, 134 ff.; influence of Lindsay, 135, of Kirchmayer, 135 ff- Ballad, A, on Bishop Hatto, 182 Ballett, A, against the Ship of Fooles, 370 n. Bankside, Southwark, 343, 370 Baptist. John the, dramas on, see Blcha.nan, Grimald, SCHOEPI'ER. Bapiistes, see Buchanan. Barclay, A., his Ship of Fools, 180 n., 324, 341 ff., 347, 350, 3«9 Barlow, J. (also called W.), 33 f-. 47. ''^•'^ n- Barnes, B., TheDiviPs Charter, 17 r, 197 — 203 Barncveldt, by Fletcher (?), 171 Barptholomaeus Lochiensis, his Christiis Xylonicus, 139 Bartmolo.maeus de Unckel, his life of the three Kings of Cologne, iSt n. Basel, Sixt Birck at, 91 ; Poxe at, 139; the Council of, 177; Barclay at, 342 n. Batman, W.,*and Lycosthencs, 176 ; his The Doome, ib. Bai;m<;akten, Latin firamatist, his Judiliiim Salomonis, 72 I'.katls Kmenanus, 169 f.; and Lcland, 170 Beaumont, F"., his Masque on the Rhine, 180 Bebkl, IL, his vulgaris cantio and the jVul-lirown A/aid, 5 f. ; Laiis Veneris, 75, 38 2 ; luice- tiae, 242 f., 244 n., 249 n., 252, !74n •> -/? n. Becanus, J. G., his theory of the language of Paradise, the dramatists on, 167 n. Beggars, in the Ship of Fools, 340 ; in Frischlin, 342 ; in Copland's The Hye Way, 357 ff. ; in Awdeley's Fra- ternity of Vagabonds, 362 f. BELLEFOREST,F.de, and 'Middle- ton's The Witch, 234 n. Bellum grammaticale, Oxford Latin drama, 79 n., 113 n. Bclphegor, the Marriage of, in the Elizabethan drama, 308 ff. Bern, the disputation at, 38 Bertoldo, the Italian Alarkolf, 261 Birck, Sixt, his Susanna, 72 f., 89, 91 f. ; character of his dramas, 91 f. ; his Judith, 91 f., 94 f.; Eva, 91 f., 97 ; Zorobahel, 91 f., 149 ; De falsa et vera nobilitate, 92 Bjornson, B. , 96 Bobance, la Folic, 329 BODINUS, J., 225, 231 f. BoiE, N., his hymns, 401 Boileau, his Kpistic on the Rhine, 180 Bologna, foreign students at, 337 Bolte, Dr J., i58f. BoNGARSUS, his debate on No- l)ility, 92 n. Bonn, IL, his hymns, 401 Bkanut, C. J., onC. Pedersen, 299 Branj>I', .Seb. , 39; hi-i Turco- phobia, 7611.; rli'scription of a mir.iculous hind, r77; on astrology, 232; on the Kalcn- bergcr, 275 11.; Ship of Fools, xxii, 324 ff., 327 ff.; classifi- cation of his Fools, ■\i,}, — 8; — and Lydgale, 339 f. ; — and CccX- /,<>rf/A //(>/(.•, 345 ff.;— and Skclton, 354 ff.; — and Cop- lanfi's I lye Way, 360 If. ; — and Emblem literature, 369 f. ; 410 INDEX. — find later satire ; Tarlton, /,73iT. ; Armin, 375(1.; Brandt on the Grobians, 379, i'^i,; Fools and Grobians, 387 tT. Brentius, J., on Witchcraft, 230 Bretagne, count of, Proverbcs dc Marconi ct de Salciiion, 262 f., 267. Proverbcs ati comte de Bretagtie, 265 ff. Breton, N., his characters, 378 n. Brink, B. ten, 264 Brixils, Germanus, More's epigram on, 324 Bromyard, J., and the Jest- books, 253 n., 284 Brulovv, C., his Latin dramas, 74, i03fF. ; Char idea, 99; his Ainh-omeda, 103 f. Brunellus, the Ass, his New Order, 325, 345 Brunswick, Heinrich, Duke of, 26 f. ; Protestant dialogues against, 31, 60; dramas a- gainst, 120 Brunswick, Heinrich Julius, Duke of, witch-persecutions under, 229 Bruun, C., on Friar Rush, 295 ff. Bruun, Holger, Ga?nle Danske J\/inder, 295 n. Brylincer, N., Collection of Latin dramas, ii2n., 159 Buchanan, G., his tragic method, 98, 104 ; ycphtlies, 98, 1 1 1 n.; Baptistes, 98, 1 1 1 n., ii4f., translated, 115 n.; V>. and Markolf, 270 Burger, G., /'he A Mo( 0/ Can- terbury, 273 BuLLEN, A. H., 32 n., 171 n., 188 n. BuLLEN, W., his Dialogue, 32 BULLHEYM, S., and Mathis Zell, 44 n. BULEOCK, H.,translatesLucian's ■Kefii Aiif/dduv, 33 n. Biindsclmh, Ship of the, 340 n. , 379 BUUMEISTER, J., his Amphitryo, 94 Burton, R., his Anatomy, Mar- kolf in, 272 Byron, Lord, his Vision of Judgment, 27 C Mcry Tales, The, 246 n., 252 f. Caesar, Julius, in Frischlin's y II I ins redivivus, loi Cai.aminus, G., his Rodolph Ottocariis, 97 Cai.deron, p. de, his El mayor vionstrno los zelos, 117 n. ; Cisiiia de Inglatcrra, 1 7 i n. 'Caleniijour,' 272 Camhridge, its share in Latin drama, 107 ; performance of Pai)i»tachiiis at, 1 29 ff. Canterbuiy, The Cobler of, 371 Cardan us. J., on the witch per- secutions, 225, 230 n. Carion's Chronicle, translated, 169 Cartvvright, W., The Ordin- ary, 166 n. Casaubon, I., edition of Theo- jjhrastus, 377 Catholic satirists (Fnglish), 46 {i. Catu, the couplets of, and Gro- bianism, 382 f. Cavendish, G., on court per- formances, under Henry V 1 1 L, 106 Celtes, Conrad,' his Latin lyrics, i ; his Ludus Dianae, 75; edition of Hros\\itha, 125 n. Cerla»ien Saloinonis el Mar- culphi, 269 Cervantes, M. de, Espahola Inglesa and Q. Elizabeth, 171 n. Chami'Ier, Symphorien, his Nef des Princes, and Brandt, 340 n. Chap-books, English, 292 Chai'MA.n", G., Byron, Biissy d' Amboise, Alphonsiis, 171?. Chariclea, Heliodorus', 99 INDEX. 411 Chaucer, G., Elizabethan imi- tators of, 325, 371 Chettle, H., Hofftiian, 169, 172, 174 Chilianus of Millerstadt, his Dorothea, 79 f., 403 f. Chorus, in Elizabethan drama, ■2 1 3 f . Christiama, performance of Studetttes at, 158 Christoferson, J., Jephthes, ro6, 109 Chris tits Rcdivivus, 109, 113 Christ us Triu»i/>ha>is, 139 — 148 Cicero in Frischlin's Jtdizis Redivivus, 10 1 Ciceronian dialogue, 48 CiNTHio, G., his Didone, 107 Clark, W. G., and Wright, W. A., on Macbdli, 237 Claus Narr, 375 Cla-ocrt, 375 Clinton, Sir H., reception of, at Hessian court, 174 Clough, a. H., iMari Magno, 371 n. COCHLAEUS, J., in ihc Burial of the Mass, 36 Cock LordTs Bote, 341 ff., and the Ship of Fools, 342 n., 345 ^^. 'Cockayne,' land of, 331 f. ; ship of, 332 ; and Cock Lorcll's Bote, 346 ff. ; and the Bo^uge of Court, 355 ff. Codrus, Latin drama, 77 f. Coligiiius, Latin drama, 98 Colltii, The three kings of, Eng- lish story of, 181 Collier, J. 1'., 33 n., 106 ff., .172 Comedians, the English, tliLJi play of 'Jueen Hester, 14911. ; the i'rodigal Son, i/>.; I-'ortu- ttatu^, 2 iS Comedy of l-'ainc, see (jRLMALI> CoMMiNES, p. de, translated, 168 Coniocdia no7'a, by Hegendorf, «4 CoiE, Alan, 47 Copland, R., his Hye JVay to the Spyttel House, 342 n., 357 — 62; Gyl of Brentford, 33Sn., 360, 365 ff. Copland, W., his translation of Ule 1 1 Spiegel, 271, 282 ff., 285 ff. Costlie IVhore, The, and the Hatto legend, 172 Courtiers, Skelton's satire on, 350—7 Coverdale, M., his Goostly Songs, 8 ; — and the Lutheran hymnology, 11 f. ; estimate of them, 15 f. ; table, 1 7 ff. ; date, 399 ff.; mannerisms, 401 ff Cowley, A., his Naufmgiuin joculare, 74 n., 372 n.; on Skelton, 368 Cox, Captain, his library, 368 Creuziger, E., her hymns, 9, 12 ; and Coverdale, iS, 401 n. Crocus, C, his Joseph, S4, 86 f. Crome, Dr, in Turner's Ex- amination, 63 n. Crusius, B., his Senecean dramas, 99; his De dra- niatilms, ib. CUSPINIANUS, on Turkish his- tory, 168 Dachstein, W., his hymns, 9, 12; rhythms, 11 n; Cover- dale's use of, 19 Dance of Death, The, and Hrandt, 369 Danish legend. The, of I'"riar Rush, 293 ff., 297; metrical version of, 298 ff. ; compared to H. Germ, and L. Sax., ib. , 302 Dante, treatment of lusi and gluttony, 297 n. Daryus, F.nterlude of, i4,S Day, J., and Kriar Rush, 308 f. De arte hibendi, translated by Wickrani, 381 n. 'Debates,' tlie medi.aeval, 23 Deckek, T., and Kord, J., The Sun's /)arting, sec EoRli. Olde Fortunalus, 1 75 n., 2 10 — 412 IxVDEX. 218; and Faustus 213 ff, ; The Gentle Craft, 21311.; on Friar Rush, 302, 308 ff. ; If this lie not a good flay &c., 309 — 3 1 8 ; The GitTs Ho7-ne- 'booke, 372 n., 376, 390 ff.; London Temple, 180; Whore of Babylon, 372 n.; Patient Grissel, ib. ; his supposed ad- ditions to Faustus, 187 n. Dedekini), F., and Scheidt, 380 n., 383, 386 ff. ; his Gro- bianus, 384 ff. ; in England, 389 ff- Df.lkio, J., on Witchcraft, 225, 227 f. Devil, The, is an Ass, 318 ff. Devil, The Merry, of Edmonton, and Faustus, 195 ff. Dialogue, polemical, 21 ff. Dialogues of sixteenth century, 21; mediaeval, 22 f.; educa- tional, rhetorical, polemical, ib.; Humanist dialogues, Eras- mus and Hutten, 24; their suc- cessors, 26 f. ; the dialogue in England, characters of, 31 f. ; under P2dward VI., 50 ff.; under Mary, 67; under Eliza- beth, 68 f. Dialogue, Dialogus, Gesprach. Dialogus zwischen ainem Prie- ster unn Fitter, 24 n.; — von Franz v. Sickingen vor des Hiiitels Pforte, 27 n. ; — on Julius II., ib. ; Ein schbner D. &c., 28; Ein schon Frag etlicher Artikel halben, ib. ; .Sachs' Disputation, 29, 51 — 3; Ein hiibsch Gcsprechbiichlein, ib. ; Ein D. 'wic ein baior tnit aim...miinch redt, ib. ; Ciinz tend der Fritz, ib. ; Concilium, 30 ; Rychstag, ib. ; Barbali, ib. ; Maria, 30 f. ; Lycaon- gespriiche, 31, 60 ; — between Age and Youth, God and Man, Death aiul Youth, 32 n.; Rede file and be not -wroth, 33 — 43; John Bon, 33, 54 f. ; Examination of the Mass, 33, 63 f. ; Gesprech der flaischlichen Vernunft, },}, n. ; D. between a Gentleman and a Husbandman, 34, 45 f., 360 ; Krankheit der Messe, 40 — 42 ; J)ialogus inter patrcm chris- tianu»i et ftliiim contuniacem, 44 ; Dialogus zwischcn ainem.. . Edehnan und ainem Munch, 46 ; Dialogue between two beg- gars, \'j n. ; Dialogi sex (Cope), 47 ; Dialogue describing the ori- ginal ground of these Lutheran factions (Barlow), ib. ; More's dyaloge, 48 n. ; Rastell's dia- logue on Purgatory, 49 n. ; Robin Conscience, 55 f. ; Send- ler's Ein schon Frag Sec, 54 n. ; Vielfeld's Dialogus von der Beicht, 56; Turner's Dia- logue between a Hunter, Foster and Dean, 62 ; Rescuing of the Roman Fox, ib. ; Endight- ment against Mother Messe, 65 f. ; Resch's Schoner dia- logus von zwcien schwestern, 66; Dialogus duarum soro- rum, 67 ; A trew Mirrour, 68; Newes from the North, 68 n. ; Dialogus contra tyran- nidcm Papistarum, 69 ; Thyn- ne's Pride and Lo%vliness, 32 n., 69; Sachs' Gcspr. zw. der Hoffahrt tmd der Demtith, 69; Solomon and Markolf, T-^^'^'i- Dictz, Les, de Salomon Sec, 269 f. Dido, dramas on, see Dolce, CiNTHio, Pazzo, Frlschlin, RiTWYSE, KNAUSTIUS Di ETHER, A., his Joseph and iMacropedius, 87 n. Dodypoll, Dr, Wisdom of, 11^ Doi.ce, L., his Dido, 107 Dolotechne, by Zambertus, 83 Don yuan and Faustus, 197 n. Dorothea ,Q\\\\\:v(ms'' Latin drama on, 80; Italian, ib. n.; the Virgin Martyr, ib. ; Chr. Hansen's, 298 n., 403 f. DouSA, Latin poet, his Enco- miu?)i umbrae, 381 INDEX. 413 Dover, Jack of, Fools in, 375 n. Drama, influence of, on the de- velopment of English satire, 377 Drama, the Latin, 70 ff. In England, 70 f., 105 ff.; in Germany, '\ ^.•, Humanist dramas, 748"-; pageants, 75 f., 78; satiric dramas, 77 f. ; the Christian Terence, 79 f. ; the modem Terence, 80 IT. ; pre- ponderance of secular subjects and tragic treatment, 95 ff. ; decline of, 104; Foxe and the Latin drama of Germany, 139 f- 'Drama of debate,' The, 29 f . ; in England, 56 f., 64 Du Bellay, J., 380 n. DUDULAEUS, C., on the Wan- dering Jew, i84f. Dutch School of Latin dra 84 f ; version of Fortu 405 f- rama, /" natus^''^ Earle, J., bishop, his Alicrocos- viography, 325, 378 n., 391 Eberlin v. Giinzberg, ihn/y/aid- schith, 39 Eck, J., 36; at the Bern dispu- tation, 38 f. Eckstein, Utz, his polemical dialogues, 29; the Coticiliuin, 29 f., 4*^ ; ihe l\ychstag, 30, 58 f. Ell.SA.M, in the Rosengarten, and Brandt, i8on. Eitnek, I'., and the Wandering Jew, 185 n. Em/.aheth, (|uecn,in Cervantes' Espaiiola /nglesa, 171 n.; in Decker's Oldc Eortiinatits, 2 1 2 ff. EuzAliKril, princess, jier marri- age to the Palsgrave, 172, 180; her journey to lleidelberg, 180 El.voi, Sir J., on Sleidanus, 171 Emblem-writers, I'he, and The Ship 0/ Fools, 369 f. Emsek, H., 36; at the Bern dis- putation, 38 f. Enchiridia, The, of Erfurt, Wittenberg, Niirnberg, 9, iS Encomia, ironical, 381 f. Enexkel, Jan, Wiener Meer- fahrt, 372 n. England, economic conditions in, at the Reformation com- pared with those of Germany, 45 ; the drama of debate in, 56 f.; Latin drama in, 70 f., 105 ff.; neglect of German history in, i68ff. ; German jest-books in, 251 f.; mythi- cal character of, 273 n.; Amis connected with, 273 n.; Ulen- spiegel in, 287 ff".; Friar Rush in, 3030".; Fool literature in, 325; Ship of Fools in, 340 n. ; Grobianism in, 389 f. English Courtier, The, on the Ship of Fools, 369 Erasmus, D., his part in Hu- manist dialogue writing, 25; translates Lucian, ■},}, n. ; his De libero arhitrio, 37; his En- comiuni JMoriae, 39, 74, 324; Polyphemus and De rebus, lie. translated, 47 ; 7rrwxoXo7fa, ib. n.; E. in PVischlin's Pris- ciaiius Vapulaiis, loi; his Apophthcgvts arranged by Ly- costhenes, 175 n.; his Dever- soria, 244 n., 380; — and the Narrenschiff, 324 ; on English houses, 380; sets the fashion of ironical encomia, 381 'Espiegle,' 272 EsROM, lake and convent, 294 ff., 301 f ; legend of, 294 n. Euleuspiegel, see (Jleiispiigel Eva, ])y Melanchthon, 72 n. ; by J5irck, 92 Every mn II, i2on., 3S1 Evordaiius, 172 Exodus, Latin drama by B. Crusius, 99 Fadeli,, Peter, and Dr Fuuslus, 195 ff. Fahek, Catholic champion, 36 Fabliaux : /,<• vilaiii ikcnrittcr, 248 n. FisCHART, J., and Rabelais, 232; in the witch-persecution, ib. ; Fidhhatz, Der, 382 Flayderus,F., dramatist, 103 n. Fletcher, J., allusions to Para- celsus, 165 n. ; The Fair Maid of the Inn, 165 n., 167 ; Barne- veldt, 171 Flying-sheets, German, 328 ; and see News-sheets Fools, 164, 323 ff., 355 f. The Order of — , see Lydgate ; Ship of, see Brandt. Ttventy- five 01-ders of Fools, 364, 370; relation to Ship of Fools, 365 ff. ; Death's Fool, 369; Tarl- ton's ' Horse load ' of — , 373 ff. Foole upon Foolc, Armin's, 375 Ford, J., and Decker, T., 'i'he Sun's Darling, 108, 274; The Lady's Trial, 166; Ford and Rowley, The Witch of Edmon- ton, 218 f. FoRSTER, G. , collection of lyrics 3 f. Fortunatus,i\\sGermdJi romance, 179; 203 ff.; analysis of, 203; English prose versions of, 405 ff. Fortitnatus, Olde, see Decker Fortune, A defiance to, drama, Foulx, Sermon joyeux des, 338 n. Four Elements, The, 328 Four P's, The, 248 n., 330 FoxK, J., and Bale, 138; and Kirchmayer, i38ff. ;his Chris- tus Triumphans, 139 — 148; translated, 139 n. France, Ulenspiegel in, 252; Markolf in, 262, 272 ; Ship of Fools in, 340 n. Franck, Seljastian, translates Supplication of the Beggars, 45 n. Frankfurter, P., compiler of the Kalenberger jests, 275 Fran IVendelgard, Frischlin's, 342 Frederick I. (Barbarossa), em- peror of Germany, in English drama, 175 Frey, J-, his Gartengesellschaft, 243 f., 245, 247, 250 Friar Bacon, Greene's, 173 P^RiscHLiN, N., his life, 100 ff.; his Latin dramas, 74 ; his IViasma, 72, 10 1 ; Priscianus Vapulans, 79, loi ; fulius Redivivus, 79, loi ; Susanna, Dido, 100 n.; — and Kirch- mayer, 123; Frati IVendel- gard, 342 ; Elegia in Ebrie- tatem, 381 Froissart, J., translated, 168 P^ULK, W., his additions to Carion's Chronicle, 169 FuRNiVALL, Dr, on Copland's The Hye Way, 357 n. ; on Gyl of Brentford, 367 n. Gager, W., his Latin dramas, Gallus, Jodocus, his Monopo- lium des Lichtschiffes, 331 f. Gammer Gurton's Needle, and Rush, 307 Gardiner, S., Bishop, against W. Turner, 62 f. ; his Contra Turrtcri Vulpe/n, 62 ; on the Pammachius, i29ff. INDEX. 415 Gartengeselhchaft, Frey's, 245 ; jests from, 247 n. Gascoigne, G., 149 — 163; his yocasta, ib.; Supposes, 150; Steele glas, ib. ; Glasse 0/ Go- vernment, 149 ff.; — and the Acolastiis, Kebelles, Stttdentes, 158 ff., 173; Didce belhim in- expertis, 159; Spoyle of Ant- werpe, 1 59 f. ' Gauch ' and ' Narr,' 339 n. Gebhardt, Dr v., of Berlin, 56 n. Geiger, L. , on Reuchlin's Heti- no, 80, 83 n. Geiler, J., von Kaisersberg, and PauH, 242 ; Schiffder Heil, Scliiff der Biisse, 340 n. Generibus Ebriosorum, De, 380 Gengenbach, p., his Novella, 40 n . ; Narrenschiff vom Bund- scliiih, 340 n., 379; Die X. Lebertsalter, 108 n. Gentleman, Dialogue of a, with a Husbandman, 34, 45 f. , 360 German literature in the six- teenth century, xvi ; lyrics in England, 5, 6 ; Humanists, 21 Germany, its changcfl reputa- tion (i5-;o — 1600), 165 f.; its history, neglect of, in England, 168 ff.; in the drama, 171 ff. ; its witchcraft, 219; jest-books, 242 ff. ; society, 244 f. ; I'ool- literature in, 327 ff. ; gross manners of, 3S0 f. 'Geselienschiff/ Brandt's, 345 ff, Gesta Romanorutn, 'I'lie, its ver- sion of the story of Andelosia, 206 ff. , 242 Gl.Al'TlloKNE, II., allusions to Paracelsus, 165 n., to Faustus, \(>(i : Wit in a Constable, 166 n.; Hollander, 165 f. ; Albert us ll'allenstcin, 172 n. Glasse of Government, The, r49ff. GnaI'HEUS, G., his Acolastus, 73 n., 84, 85 ff., 108 f., 154 f., 157 ; the /leolastus in England, ro8 f., i58ff.; — and Gascoigne, 161 ff Goddaeus, C., 381 GORRES, J. J.,on the Fortunatus, 208 Goethe's Faust and Rush, 302, 317 GossoN, S., in Tarlton's Jigge, 374 Gothamites, the, and the .Schilt- biirger, 24S n. Gravesend Barge, 362 ; and the Ship of Fools, 370 f. Greene, R., h.\sFi-iar Bacon and Bungay, 189 ff. ; its relation to Faustus, 190 ff., and the Ship of Fools, 370 f. Gregory VII., Pope, his dia- logues, German translation of, 22 n. Greitter, M., his hymns, 9n., 12, rhythms, 11 n. ; — and Coverdale, 19 Grillparzer, F., his Ottokar, Grimald, N., his life, ii3f.; Archipropheta, 70 n., 74, 109; his Christus redivivus, 109, 113; Comedy of Fame, 109 Grimm, H., on the I /en no, 830. Gri.MM, J., on the Witch, 22^ n. ; on Fortinmtus, 208 n. Griselis, see Raijclifk Grobiana's Nuptials, 393 ff. Grobianism, 379 ff., 3f^9 ff- 'Grobianisme,' 389 Grobians, 243, ^40; — and Fools, Grobianus, xxv, 379 f. Grobiamis et Grobiana, 388 f. Grobianus'' Fischzmht, contents of, 383 f. Grosart, Dr A., on A. Scolo- ker, 51 n.; on the Nest of Ninnies, 375 n. GRiiNE\VAi.i),( J., his hymns, and Coverdale, 401 Gulls. The Guts I/orn-boohe, see Dfxker GfriiEKiis, Encomium caecita- tis, 3S1 Gyl of Brentford's Testament, 3380., 360 f., 365 4i6 INDEX. Gym.mcus, M., i)rintcr of Gri- m.?\A\ Archipropheta, iiS Hall, J., his Characters, 325, 378 n. Ham KLIN, the Piper of, 178, 184 Hamlet, story of, in Saxo and Krantz, 170 Hansen, Chr., his Dorothea, ■298 n., 403f. Hansofrmnca , Latin drama, see Hayneccius Hans Pfriem (Hansoframea), see Hayneccius Harsenet, S., on Rush, 307 n. Hassan, Pasha of Bosnia, routs the Turks 1593, 7 Hatto, bishop, his legend in England, 175, 178, 181 — 4 Hayneccius, M., his Hanso- framea,^-]; Ahnanzor, 158 Hazlitt, W. C., 63 n., 107 n., 130 n., 150, 169 n., 284 n., 315 n., 358 n. Hecasttis, by Macropedius, 97 ; — and the Diidesche Schlomer, Hecate, in Middleton and Shakspere, 235 f. Hector of Germany, The, 1 72 Hegkndorf, C.,Latindramatist and rhetorician, 78 n., 84; his Nova Comoedia, 84 Hegenwalt, E. , his hymns, 1 2 ; — and Coverdale, 18 Heidelberg, a seat of alchemy, 166; performance of the 6Vj///^^ at. 75 Heinsius, D., 381 Helbach, v., translates Gro- bianus, 388 Heldensage, ignorance of, in England, 180 Hendyng, and Markolf, 265 ff. Henno, by Reuchlin, 80 — 84 Henry HI. of France, witch persecutions under, 219, 231 Henry IV. of France, witch persecutions under, 231 Henry VHI. in Kirchmayer's Pyrgopoliniccs, 132 n.; in Bale's Kyngc Johan, 135; in Cal- deron's Cisma de Iiiglaterra, 172 n. Henslowe's Diary, 172 n., 308 Herod and Mariamne, in drama, 1 1 7 n. Herod Antipas, in drama, 114 ff. Hessus, Eoban, in Frischlin's yidiiis Redivivits, 10 1 Hcsti'r, qiiee7t, interlude of 148 IIeylin, p., on the Piper of Hamelin, 184 Heywood, John, use of dia- logue, 32 ; his Gcntylncs and Nobility, ib. ; Dialogue of Wit and Folly, ib. n.; satirises his own church, 4 1 ; Four P's, 248 n., 330 Heywood, T., uses Aventine and Krantz, 1 70 ; The Lanca- shire Witches, 232, 238 — 41 ; Woman Killed loith Kindness, 238 ; English Traveller, 238 f., 372 ; Hierarchy of Angels, 239, 252 n. ; Gynaekciun, 240 n. ; II. and Bebel, 252 n.; on the Ship of Drimkards, 372 n. HiKRONYMUS de Croaria, his Acts of the Council of Con- stance, 112 n. Histriomastix, 149 n. HovESCii, N., his hymns, 9, 12; Coverdale's use of, 19 Hoffman, see Chettle IIoeman, Plans de, Samlinger, 294 HoKER, J., his Piscator, 107 f. ' Ilolhiplmb,' 52 n. Hoi.inshed, R., uses Aventine and Krantz, 170 'Ilolliglass,' 287 n. Holstein, on the Prodigal .Son dramas, 72 n., 150 n. HoNDORF, A., on Borgia, 197 ff. Hrosvvitiia, her comedies, 79f.; her Dulcicius, Fides Spes et Charitas, 80 n. ; Gallicanus, 80 n., 125 IIuBER (or Hubert), C, his INDEX. 417 hymns, 9, 1 2 n. ; and Cover- dale, 17, 400 Humanists, German, and lyric literature, i ; and the polemi- cal dialogue, 21 fF. ; Latin dramas, 74 — 84 ; burlesque en- comia, 381 Hus, J., tragedies on, see Agri- cola and Radcliff; the Acts of his trial, 112 HuTTEX, U. von, his Latin dia- logues, 25 f.; compared with Erasmus, ib.; his method, ib.; his Phalaris»nis, 26 ; Inspici- enles, 26, 339, 380; Bulla, Monitor, PraeJones, 26 ; influ- ence on successors, 27; and Kirchmayer, 1 23 ; on drunken- ness of Germans, 380 Hye Way, The, to the Spyttel House, see Copland, R. Hymn, the Lutheran, 7 ; schools of hymnology, 8 ff. Ibsen, H., his Kejser og Ga- lilceer, 125 n. Ich stund an einem inorgen an, and the Nut-brown Inlaid, 6 If this be not a good play, the Divell is in it, 309- 1 8 Ignoramus, comedy, 74 n. Inglelanij, T., The Disobedient Child, 16 r Innkeepers, satire on, 249; Ulen- spiegel and, 283 Institor and Sprcnger, the Malleus Male/tear u in, 220 (T.; its plan, 222 f.; and Middle- ton's The ll'^iteh, 233 f. Italian Humanists, their dramas in Germany, S3 f. James I., 219, 231 ; his Fool and Markolf, 270 jEniTHAH, story of, in tragedy, 9S, 188 Jephthes, see BUCHANAN and ClIRISTOFKRSON Jest, German, the, characteristics of, 245 f. Jest-books, German, 242 ^L Jesuits, theirsacred dramas, 73n. Jew, Wandering, The, 174, 178, 184 f.; ' The W. J. telling Fortunes to Englishmen,^ 185 n. 'Jigge,' Tarlton's, 373 ff., and The Ship of Fools, ib. Job, dramas on, see Radcliff, RuOF ; Prelude to book of, ami Decker, 312 n. Johann Friedrich, Elector of Saxony, see Saxony Jonas, Justus, his hymns, 9, 12 JONSON, B., allusions to Para- celsus, 165, n.; his Volpone, ib.; Epicoene, ib., 319; Alchemist, 165 ff., 232, 290 ; iMasqice of Queens, 166 n.; Nerves fro)n the A^ew World, ib.; Magnetic Lady, 166,319; Jonson'sknow- ledge of German, 167; Staple ofNeios, 172; Masque of For- tunate Isles, 289 f. ; use of Ulenspiegel, 289 f . ; Poetaster, 290 n. ; his burial, 290 n. ; The Devil is an Ass; — and Decker, 318 ff.; on the Devil of Edmonton, 318 Joseph, Latin drama, see Cro- Cfs Judith, by SixtBirck, 91 f. yuditha,])^- Schonaeus,95 ; com- pared with Birck's, 94 f, Julian, emperor, in drama, 125 Julius II. pope, dialogue on, 28 n. Julius Kedivivus, see Frisch LI N JUNDT, A., on the dramatic per- formances at Strassburg, 72, 102 Justin, his dialogue with Try- phon, 23 Kiilenbcrg, Der Pftrrcrvon, 250, 25?, 254, 272 — 82, 293 f. Kalenherc.eksdorf, 272 A'alenbonnti, Parson of, 275 ff.; variations from the Kalen- berger, 276 ff. ; — and Scogin, 2H1 f. Katzipori, I.indener's, 246 n. ; jests in, 246 n., 249 n. 27 4i8 INDEX. Kemiu.e, J., on Markolf, '2530'., 2S6 n. Kessler, Swiss chronicler, 169 Kings, the three, of Cologne, see CoLLEN KiRCHiiOFF, W., his Wcndnii- mnth (Jest-book), 243 KlKCHMAYEK, T., his life, 119, 120 — 124; character of his dramas, 93, i22f.; his Pam- iiiachiiis, 64 n., 93, 119 f., 124 ff.; translated, 1190.; by Bale, 119, 131 f.; acted at Cambridge, 129 ff.; his Mer- cator, 120 n.; Hainan, 93, 123; Hii-reiiiias, Judas, \2i n.; Pyrgopolinices, 120, 123, 1 3 2 n . ; Re}:;n ufn papistic u m , 122; — and Bale's Kynge Johan, 135 ff- ; — and Foxe's Christus Triumplians, 143 ff.; — on Lycosthencs, 175 n. KxAUSTius, H., his Dido, 107 Knaves, orders of, 341 ff., 345; Cock Lorell's, 341 — 50 Knolles, R., History of the Turks, 7 Kolross, J.,hishymns, i2n., 17 Kraffse, J., monk of Esrom, 295 f. Krantz, a., his history of Ger- many, 169; on Hamlet, 170 Krug, Hans, his ironical satire on Grobianism : IVie dcr mcisler scincn sun lert, 382 Laxeham, J., on Capt. Cox's Library, 368 f. Lazarillode Tormes, in England, 288 Legends, German, in England, i79ff. Leland, J., and Rhenanus, 170 Lemnius, S., his Motiachopor- noviachia, 79 Lessing, G. E.,on the Monacho- pornomachia, 79 n. ; his Faitst, 297 n. Leu, the 'second Kalenberger,' 250, 252, 272, 283 Tvii.Y, J., grammarian, and Rit- wyse, 107 ; his Antiborricon, XXX LiNDENER, M., 243 f.; see Art^ zipori and Rastbiichlin LocHER, J., \\\i)ius.T.,I,atin drama on the Massacre of .St Bariholoinew, •7' Ri 77 Stymmelius, C, his SiuJc flies, 156 f.; in England, 158; and Gascoigne. 161 f. Summers, W., 370; in the M-si of A'/n/n'cS, 376 Siipplication of the Beggars, 360 Surrey, Earl of, and the English lyric, I, 16 Susanna, dramas on, 68 ; Sixt Birck's, 72, 89, 1 12 n.; mediae- val drama on, 89 n. ; P. Rebhun's, 112 n. ; anon. ib. ; Sacco da Busseto's, ib. ; Eng- lish interlude on, 149 SWABIANS, a butt for satire, 247 Swift, J., and Grolnanus: his Collection of Genteel and In- genious Conversation, 384, 397 Switzerland, Swiss Latin dramas, 88 f. ; see also Birck, Manuel, Ruof Tailors, satire on, 249, 2S3 Ta)iiburlaine, 168; Marlowe's, 187 Tam worth, the Tanner of, 196 Tanner, Jesuit, attacks the witch persecutions, 220 Tarlton, K., his A Horse -load of Fools, 373 fif. ; Tarlton and Brandt, 373, 374 n. Taverner, R., his music in the 1530 song-book, 2 Tegernsee play. The, on Anti- christ, i24n. 'Yv.\cn^v.\K,SchifderflHst, 331 f. Teles 10, and the Academy at Naples, 225 Terence, in modern Latin drama, 79 ; the Christian Ter- ence, 79, 86; the 'modern Terence,' 80, 84 ff. ; influence on the vernacular drama, 90; Andna translated, 107; in Gascoigne, 160 f. Teutonicus, Joh., and T. Hay- wood, 239 f. Thkoi'IIUAstus, his Characters, English imitators of, 325, 377 Thersites, and Markolf, 260 Thomas, W., Historie of Italie, 168 Tiiynne, K., his Disputation be- tween Pride and Lowliness, 32 n., 69 TiECK, L. , his Fortunatus, 212 Tohaeiis, by Schonaeus, 94 n. Tobias, by Crusius, 99 Tottell's Miscellany, i f., 113 TovvNELEY ]5lays, The, 5 Tragoedia de papain, iion. Tram, Tom, and Ulenspiegel, 292 Travel, foreign, Brandt on, 336; Ascham, 337 Trial, The, as a motive in po- lemical dialogue, 57 f. Tritheim, J., as 'magician,' 165 f.; as historian, i69f.; on Hatto, 181; on sorcery, 226; his Antipalus Alaleficiorum ,i'i(i n. Triumphs, The, of Love and Fortune, 216 Triumphs, The, of Virtue, Vice and Fortune, 215 ff. TscHUUi, Swiss chronicler, 169 Tubingen, Frischlin at, 100 ff. Turks, histories of, in England, 168 Turner, W., Examination of the Hunter, 28, 62 ; Exami- nation of the Mass, 33, 57, 63 f. ; life, 6 1 f. ; Hunting of the Fox, 62; Hunting of the Wolf, ib. Turvey, the Tincker of, 345 n., .371 Tyuurn Cart, the, and the Ship of Fools, 371 Tyndale, W. , leaves England, 33 ; on Roy, 34; More against, 48 Uoall, N., 109 f. ; his tragoedia de papatu, 1 10 n. U<;olino da Farma, his Philo- genia, 84 INDEX. 425 Uhland, L., on the Reformation dialogues, 27 n. Ulenspiegel, 88, 241, 245, 250 ff., 254 ; — and Aesop, 260 f. ; Mar- kolf, 271, 273 f.; and Amis 281 f. ; and Kalenberger, 281 f . ; and Scogin, 281 n.; and Rush, 304 f., 322 Ulrich, duke of Wiirtemberg, and Hutten, 26 Universities, see Bologna, Cam- bridge, Heidelherg, Ox- ford, Paris, Tukingen Unthri/ts, Ballad against, 371 f. ' UrsulenschitHein,' and the Nar- renschiff, 34O Venus, the goddess of Fools, 323 n., 330; of Gauche, ib. Vergil, his Georgics and Kirch- mayer's Agriciiltura sacra, 121 n.; his Sibyl, 231 Verstegan, J., and the Piper of Hanicln, 184 ViELFELD, J., Dialogus vierer Personcn, von dcr Bcicht, 56 Vindlkr's Blume dcr Titgcnd and the Narrcnschiff, 328 Vogtherr, H., his hymns, 9 Wadskjar, on Rush, 298 n. Waldis, ]5urkardt, his hymns, 9 ; his Prodigal Son, 89, 1 53 f. Warning, A, against the super- stition of witches, 228 n. Weher, I., on Wireker, 326 n. Wedderiiurn, J., and Cover- dale, 399 f. IVcgkiirzer, Montanus', 245 f. Weier, J., on Faustus, 187 n.; on the witch-persecutions, 220; his view of witchcraft, 220, 225 — 8 Wendiinmitth, Kirchhoff 's, 245 ; jests in, 246 -9 nn., 2.^3 n. Wert her ami Urohianus, 397 f. Westivard for Smelts, 371 n. Whore, The, of Babylon, by Edward VI., 138 Whore, The Costly, and Ilatlo, '83 Wichgrevius, a., his Cornelius relegatus, 158 n. WiCKRAM,J.,hisy«M,f^rA'Ma^^w Spiegel, 157, 381 ; Rolhvagen- biichliti, 243 f., 246 n., 249 n., 250 ; as compiler of jests, 243 f. ; as moral reformer, 381 WiCLlK, J., his Trialogits, 22 n., 24 WiDMAN, G., and the Borgia legend, 197 ff. WiMi'HELiXG, J., his Stylpho, 75' 77 Wingfield, N., Catholic dia- logues, 47 Wireker, N., his Speculum Stiiltorum, 325 f. Witch, The, of Edmonton, 218, 232 ; The Witch, see Middle- tun Witchcraft, 2i9ff. ; mythology of, 224; in literature, 231 ff. Witch-])ersecutions, 2i9ff. ; the opposition, 224 WiiTKNiiERG, hymnology of, 10; Faustus at, 189; Dede- kind at, 379 WiTZEL, G., his dialogues, 59, 65 WiTZSTADT, H., and Cover- dale's hymns, 401 n. WoDDE, M., his Protestant dia- logue, G- f. WoLSEY, Card., in the Burial of the Mass, 36; Skelton's satire on, 352 WooDES, N., Conflict of Con- science, \()i n. Wi'OTAN, and I'"i)rtimatiis, 20S ; — ^ and tile Witches, 224; as solver of riddles, 273 n. WvATT, Sir T., and the Lnglish lyric, I, 16 Wyle, N. von, translates Pe- trarch's dialogues, 23 n. Zamiiertus, B., his Dolotcchnc, 7.VA.I., Matlhis, Bullhcym's War- nung (in, 44, 55 426 INDEX, Zeno, St, legend of, and Rush, Zorobahel, see BiRCK. 302 f. ZWEIKELDEN, Abbol of, and Zezschwitz, G. von, on the Bebel, ■245 n drama Vom Eudc dcs Kaiser- Zwingli, 38 thitms, 125 n. CAMBRIDGE : PRINTED BV C. J. CLAV, M.A. AND SON, AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS. SOME PUBLICATIONS OF THE CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS. FROM SHAKESPEARE TO POPE; an Inquiry into the causes and phenomena of the rise of Classical Poetry in England. By Edmund Gosse, M.A., Clark Lecturer in English Literature at Trinity College. Crown 8vo. 6s. THE LITERATURE OF THE FRENCH RENAIS- SANCE. An Introductory Essay. By A. A. Tilley, J\LA., Fellow and Tutor of King's College, Cambridge. Crown 8vo. 6^. THE TWO NOBLE KINSMEN, edited with Intro- duction and Notes by the Rev. W. W. Skeat, M.A., Elrington and Bosworth Professor of Anglo-Saxon, ^s. 6d. THE GROWTH OF ENGLISH INDUSTRY AND COMMERCE. By W. Cunm.ngham, B.D., late Deputy to the Knightbridge Professor in the University Cambridge. With Maps and Charts. Crown 8vo. 12^. BACON'S HISTORY OF THE REIGN OF KING HENRY \TI. With Notes by the Rev. J. Rawson Lumhy, D.D., Norrisian Professor of Divinity ; late Fellow of St Catha- rine's College. 3J. SIR THOMAS MORE'S UTOPIA. With Notes by the Rev. J. Rawson Lu.mhy, D.D. ^s. 6ii. MORE'S HISTORY OF KING RICHARD III. Edited with Notes, Glossary and Index of Names, by J. Rawson Lumby, D.D, 3^'. M. LOCKE ON EDUCATION. With Introduction and Notes \)y tlie Rev. R. II. Quick, M.A. 31. Gd. LIFE AND TIMES OF STEIN, OR (lERNLANY AND PRUSSIA IN THE NAPOLEONIC ACiE, by J. R. Sekley, M.A., Regius Professor of .Modern History in the University of Cambridge, with Portraits and Maps. 3 Vols. Demy 8vo. },qs. (priginally published at j,'^s.) aonfion: C. J. CLAY AND SON, CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS WAREHOUSE, AVE MARIA LANE. University Press, Cambridge. June, i8S6. PUBLICATIONS OF THE HOLY SCRIPTURES, &c. The Cambridge Paragraph Bible of the Authorized English Version, with the Text revised by a Collation of its Early and other Principal Editions, the Use of the Italic Type made uniform, the Marginal References remodelled, and a Critical Introduction prefixed, by the Rev. F.H. A. Scrivener, M. A., LL.D., one of the Revisers of the Authorised Version. Crown Quarto, cloth gilt, lis. The Student's Edition of the above, on good writing paper, with one column of print and wide margin to each page for MS. notes. Two Vols. Crown Quarto, cloth, gilt, 31J. 6a'. The Lectionary Bible, with Apocrypha, divided into Sec- tions adapted to the Calendar and Tables of Lessons of 1871. Crown Octavo, cloth, 31. 6(/. Breviarium ad usum insignis Ecclesiae Sarum. Juxta Editionem maximam pro Claudio Chevallun et Francisco Regnault A.D. MDXX.XI. in Alma Parisiorum Academia impressam : labore ac studio Francisci PROCTER, A.M., et Christophori Words- worth, A.M. Fasciculus I. In quo continentur Kalendarium, et Ordo Tem- poralis sive Proprium de Tempore totius anni, una cum ordinali suo quod usitato vocabulo dicilur PiCA SiVE DiRECTURlUM Sacerdotum. Demy 8vo. cloth, iSx. Fasciculus II. In quo continentur Psalterium, cum ordinario Officii totius hebdomadae juxta Iloras Canonicas, et proprio Completorii, LiTANiA, Commune Sanctorum, Ordinarium Missaecum Canone ETXiii Missis, &c. &c. Demy Svo. cloth. \is. Fasciculus III. In quo coniinetur Propkiu.m Sanctorum quod et Sanctoralc dicitur, una cum Accentuario. \Iiiniicdiat<:ly. The Pointed Prayer Book, being the Book of Common Prayer with the Psalter or Psalms of David, yiointcd as tlicy are to be sung or said in Churches. Embossed cloth. Royal 24mo, is. The same in square 32mo. cloth, (yd. The Cambridge Psalter, for the use of Choirs and Organists. .Specially adajitcd for Congregations in which tlie *'C"ainbridge Pointed J'raycr 15ook" is used. Demy 8vo. clolli, y.GJ. Cloth lim]) cut flush, IS. (ui. The Paragraph Psalter, arranged for the use of Choirs by Pkookk loss Westcdtt, D.I)., Canon of Westminster, and Regius Professor of Divinity, Cambridge. Fcp. ^to. jj. The same in royal 32mo. Cloth, \s. Leather, u. (>d. London : Cambridge Warehouse^ Ave Maria Ijv:c. IfJOO J/6786 PUBLICATIONS OF The Authorised Edition of the EngUsh Bible (1611), its Subsequent Ropiints and Modern Rejjrcsentalives. ]5y F. II. A. ScRiVKNKR, M.A., D.C.L., LL.D., I'lcbendaiy of lixclcr and Vicar of Ilendon. Crown 8vo. "js. 6i/. The New Testament in the Original Greek, according to the Text followed in the Authorised Version, together with the Variations adopted in the Revised Version. Edited by F. H. A. ScRiVENKR, M.A., D.C.L., LL.D. Small Crown 8vo. cloth. 6s. The Parallel New Testament Greek and English. The New Testament, being the Authorised Version set forth in i6i i Arranged in Parallel Columns with the Revised Version of 1881, and with the original Greek, as edited by F. II. A. Scrivener, M.A., D.C.L., LL.D. Crown 8vo. cloth. 12s. 6(/. {I'lie Revised Version is the joint Property 0/ the Universities of Caw bridge and Oxford.) Greek and English Testament, in parallel columns on the same page. Edited by J. Scholefield, M.A. late Regius Pro- fessor of Greek in the University. Neiv Edition, -with the marginal references as arranged and revised by Dr Scrivener. 7^. dd. Greek and EngUsh Testament. The Student's Edition of the above on large writing paper. 4to. cloth. I2J. Greek Testament, ex editione Stephani tertia, 1550. Small Octavo. 3J'. Gd. The Book of Ecclesiastes. Large Paper Edition. By the Very Rev. E. H. Plumptre, Dean of Wells. Demy 8vo. is. 6d. The Gospel according to St Matthew in Anglo-Saxon and Northumbrian Versions. By J. M. Kemble, M.A. and Archdeacon Hardwick. Demy Quarto. lox. — New Edition by Rev. Prof. Skeat. [In the Press. The Gospel according to St Mark in Anglo-Saxon and Northumbrian Versions. Edited by the Rev. Professor Skeat, M.A. Demy Quarto. 10s. The Gospel according to St Luke, uniform with the pre- ceding, edited by the Rev. Professor Skeat. Demy Quarto. 10s. The Gospel according to St John, uniform with the pre- ceding, edited by the Rev. Professor Skeat. Demy Quarto. 10s. The Missing Fragment of the Latin Translation of the Fourth Book of Ezra, discovered, and edited with an Introduction and Notes, and a facsimile of the MS., by R. L. Benslt, M.A., Fellow of Gonville and Caiu<; College. Demy Quarto, ^'loth. ioj. Gospel Difficulties, or the Disi^laccd Section of S. Luke. By the Rev. J. J. Halcomisk, Rector of Balsham and Rural Dean of North Camps. Crown 8vo. los. ()d. THEOLOGT-(ANCIENT). The Greek Liturgies. Chiefly from original Authorities. By C. A. Swainson, D.D., Master of Christ's College. Cr. 4to. 15^, London: Cajubridge Warehouse, Ave Maria Lane. THE CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS. 3 Sayings of the Jewish Fathers, comprising Pirqe Aboth and Pereq R. Meir in Hebrew and English, with Critical Notes. By C. Taylor, D.D., Master of St John's College. \os. Theodore of Mopsuestia's Commentary on the Minor Epistles of S. Paul. The Latin Version with the Greek P'ragments, edited from the MSS. with Notes and an Introduction, by PI. B. SwETE, D.D. Vol. I., containing the Introduction, and the Com- mentary upon Galatians — Colossians. Demy Octavo. 12^. Volume II., containing the Commentary on i Thessalonians— Philemon, Appendices and Indices. \2s. Sancti Irenaei Episcopi Lugdunensis libros quinque adversns Haereses, edidit W. Wigan Harvey, S.T.B. Collegii Regalis dim Socius. 2 Vols. Demy Octavo. 185. The Palestinian Mishna. By W. H. Lowe, M.A., Lecturer in Hebrew at Christ's College, Cambridge. Royal Octavo. 11s. M, Minucii Felicis Octavius. The text newly revised from the original MS. with an English Commentary, Analysis, Intro- duction, and Copious Indices. Edited by H. A. Holden, LL.D, Crown Octavo. 7J. 6d. Theophili Episcopi Antiochensis Libri Tres ad Autolycum, Edidit, Prolegomenis Versione Notulis Indicibus instruxit Gu- LIELMUS GiLso.v HUMPHRY, S.T.B. Post Octavo. 5J-. Theophylacti in Evangelium S. Matthsei Commentarius. Edited by W. G. Humphry, B.D. Demy Octavo. 7J. 6d. Tertullianus de Corona Militis, de Spectaculis, de Idololatria with Analysis and English Notes, by George Currey, D.D. Master of the Charter House. Crown Octavo. 5J. THEOLOGY— (ENGLISH). Works of Isaac Barrow, compared with the original MSS. A new Edition, by A. Napikr, M.A. of Trinity College, Vicar of Holkham, Norfolk. Nine Vols. Demy Octavo. £i. 7,s. Treatise of the Pope's Supremacy, and a Discourse con- cerning the Unity ol the Church, by L Bakrow. Dem\ Svo. "js.Gd. Pearson's Exposition of the Creed, edited by Temple Chkvali.ikk, H.D., late Fellow and Tutor of .St Catharine's College, Cambridge. Third Edilicm revised i)y R. Sinker, M.A., Librarian of Trinity College. Demy Octavo. \is. An Analysis of the Exposition of the Creed, written l^y the Right Rev. Pather in God. Select Discourses, by John Smith, late Fellow of Queens' College, Cambridge. Edited by II. G. Williams, B.D. late Professor of Arabic. Royal Octavo. 7^. dd. De Obligatione Conscientise Praslectiones decern Oxonii in Schola Theologica habitce a Roberto Sanderson, SS. Theo- logiaa ibidem Professore Regio. With English Notes, including an abridged Translation, by W. Whewell, D.D, late Master of Trinity College. Demy Octavo, ^s. 6d. Caesar Morgan's Investigation of the Trinity of Plato, and of Philo Judasus. Second F.dition, revised by H. A. IIolden, LL.D. , late Fellow of Triniiy College, Cambridge. Crown 8vo. ^s. Archbishop Usher's Answer to a Jesuit, with other Tracts on Popery. Edited by J. Scholefield, M.A. late Regius Pro- fessor of Greek in the University. Demy Octavo, "js. 6d. Wilson's Illustration of the Method of explaining the New Testament, by the early opinions of Jews and Christians concern- ing Christ. Edited by T. Turton, D.D. late Lord Bishop of Ely. Demy Octavo. 5^. Lectures on Divinity delivered in the University of Cam- bridge. By John Hey, D.D. Third Edition, by T. Turton, D.D. late Lord Bishop of Ely. i vols. Demy Octavo. 15^. GREEK AND LATIN CLASSICS, &c. (See also pp. 13, 14.) The Bacchae of Euripides, with Introduction, Critical Notes, and Archaeological Illustrations, by J. E. Sandys, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of St John's College, and Public Orator. New Edition, M-ith additional Illustrations, Crown Svo. 12S. Gd. A Selection of Greek Inscriptions, with Introductions and Annotations by E. S. Roberts, M.A., Fellow and Tutor of Gonville and Caius College. [In the Press. AeschyU Fabulae iketiaes XOIH'OPOI in libro Mediceo inendose scriptae ex vv. dd. coniecturis emendatius editae cum Scholiis Graecis et brevi adnotatione critica, curante F. A. Paley, M.A., LL.D. Demy Svo. 7^. Gd. The Agamemnon of Aeschylus. With a translation in English Rhythm, and Notes Critical and Explanatory. NeW Edition Revised. By Benjamin Hall Kennedy, D.D., Regius Pro- fessor of Greek. Crown Svo. 6^. The Theaetetus of Plato, with a Translation and Notes by the same Editor. Crown 8vo. -js. 6d. P. Vergili Maronis Opera, cum Prolegomcms et Commen- tario Critico pro Syndicis Preli Academici edidit Benjamin Hall Kennedy, S.T.P., Graecae Linguae Professor Regius. Cloth, extra fcp. Svo, red edges, 5j. London : Cambridge Warehouse, Ave Maria Lane. THE CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS. 5 Sophocles : the Plays and Fragments. "With Critical Notes, Commentary, and Translation in English Prose, by R. C. Jebb, I-itt. D., LL.D., Professor of Greek in the University of Glasgow. Part I. the Oedipus Tyrannus. Demy 8vo. I5J-, Pait II. the Uedipus Coloneus. Demy 8vo. 12^. 6J. Select Private Orations of Demosthenes with Introductions and English Notes, by F. A. Paley, M.A., & J.E. Sandys, M.A. Part I. containing Contra Phomiionem, Lacritum, Pantaenetum, Boeotum de Nomine, Boeotum de Dote. Dionysodorum. Crown Octavo, cloth. 6s. [Nrw Edition. In the Press. Part II. containing Pro Phomnione, Contra Stephanum 1. Jl. j Nicostratum, Cononem, Calliclem. Crown Octavo, cloth. 7J. 6d. Demosthenes against Androtion and against Timocrates, with Introductions and English Commentary by William Waytk, M.A. Crown 8vo. cloth. •]s.(id. Essays on the Art of Pheidias. By C. Waldstein, M.A., Phil. D., Reader in Classical Arch;ic:ology in the University of Cambridge. Royal 8vo. With Illustrations. Buckram, ^os. M. TuUi Ciceronis ad M. Brutum Orator. A Revised Text. Edited with Introductory Essays and Critical and Explanatory Notes, by J. E. Sandys, M.A. Demy Svo. i6j-. M. Tulli Ciceronis pro C. Rabirio [Perduellionis Reo] Oratio Ad (^uirites. With Notes, Introduction and Appendices. By W. E. Heiti.and, M.A., Fellow and Lecturer of St John's College, Cambridge. Demy Svo. 7J-. Gd. M. T. Ciceronis de Natura Deorum Libri Tres, with Intro- duction and Commentary by JosKril B. Mayor, M.A., late I'ro- fessor of Moral I'hiloscjphy at King's College, London. Demy Svo. cloth, los. dd. Vol. II. \^s. hd. \'ol. III. lo.r. M. T. Ciceronis de Ofticiis Libri Tres with Marginal Analysis, an EngHsh Commentary, and Indices. New Edition, revised, by II. A. lIoLDEN, LL.D., Crown Svo. cloth, gx. M. T. Ciceronis de Finibus Bonorum libri Quinque. The Text revised and ex[)lainc(l by J. S. RiilD, Litt. D., J'ellow and Tutor o( (ionviilc and Caius College. [/« the Press. Vol. III., containing the Translation. Demy Svo. 8j. Plato's Phaedo, literally translated, by the late Y\. M. Cope, Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge. Demy Octavo. i,s. Aristotle. The Rhetoric. With a Commentary by the late E. M. Cope, Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge, revised and edited l)y J- E. Sandys, M.A. 3 Vols. Demy Svo. 21r. Aristotle.- IIEI'I vj/YXllIi. Aristotle's P.sychology, in (Ireek and English, with Introduction and Notes, by Edwin VVali,ack, M.A., late Fellow of Worcester College, Oxford. The Fossils and Palseontological AfTinitins of the Ncocominn Dcjiosits of Upware anrl liiickhdl. With rialcs. lly \V. Kemim;, M.A., F.(i.S. I)(my8vo. los. 6d. A Catalogue of Books and Papers on Protozoa, Coelentorates, Worms, etc. published during the years iS6i iSS^, by I)'Ak. 12. <'../'. An attempt to test the Theories of Capillary Action, by 1'. liASHFORTH, B.D., and J. C. Adam.s, M.A., jCi. is. London: Cambridge Warehouse, Ave Maria Lane. 8 PUBLICATIONS OF A Synopsis of the Classification of the British Pala'ozoic Rocks, by the Rev. Adam Sedgwick, M.A., F.R.S. and Fred- erick M'''CoY, F.G.S. One vol., Royal 410, cloth, Plates, £\. is. A Catalogue of the Collection ot Cambrian and Silurian Fossils contained in the Geological Museum of the University of Cambridge, by J. W. Salter, F.G.S. Royal Quarto, is. 6d. Catalogue of Osteological Specimens contained in the Ana- tomical Museum of the University of Cambridge. Demy 8vo. is. 6c/, Astronomical Observations made at the Observatory of Cam- bridge from 1846 to i860, by the late Rev. James Challis, M.A., F. R. S., F.R. A.S., Plumian Professor of Astronomy, Astronomical Observations from 1861 to 1865. Vol. XXI. Royal 4to., 15^. From 1866 to 1869. Vol. xxii. \Nearly Ready. LAW. A Selection of Cases on the EngUsh Law of Contract. By Gerard Brown Finch, M.A., of Lincoln's Tnn, Barrister at Law ; Law Lecturer and late Fellow of Queens' College, Cambridge. Royal 8vo. 28^. The Influence of the Roman Law on the Law of England. lieing the ^■^>rke Prize I'^ssay for the year 1884. P>y T. E. SCRUTTON, M.A. Demy 8vo. 10^. 6^. An Introduction to the Study of Justinian's Digest. By Henry John RoBY. Demy 8vo. 18^. Practical Jurisprudence. A comment on Austin. By E. C. Clark, LL.U., Regius Professor of Civil Law. Crown 8vo. 9^. An Analysis of Criminal Liability. By the same Editor. Crown 8vo. cloth, is. 6d. A Selection of the State Trials. By J. w. Willis-Bund, M.A., LL. B., Barrister-al-Law. Crown 8vo., cloth. Vols. L and IL In 3 parts. 30.i-. Vol. IIL [In the Press. The Fragments of the Perpetual Edict of Salvius Julianus, Collected, Arranged, and Annotated by Bryan Wai.KEK, M.A., LL.D., Law Lecturer of St John's College. Crown Svo., cloth. 6s, The Commentaries of Gains and Rules of Ulpian. Trans- lated and Annotated, by }. T. Akdy, LL.D., and Bryan Walkep, M. A., LL.D. New Edition by Bryan Walker. Crown Svo. i6.f. The Institutes of Justinian, translated with Notes by J. T. Akdy, LL.D., and Bryan Walker, M.A., LL.D. Crn. 8vo. \6s. Grotius de Jure Belli et Pacis, with the Notes of Barbeyrac and others; accompanied by an abridged Translation of the Text, by W. Whewell, D.D., late Master of Trinity College. 3 Vols. Demy Octavo. \is. The translation separate, 6j. Selected Titles from the Digest, annotated by Bryan Walker, M.A., LL.D. Part I. Mandati vel Contra. Digest XVII. I. Crown Svo. 51. Part II. De Adquirendo rerum dominio, and De Adquirenda vel amittenda Posses«ione, Digest XLI. I and 1. Crown 8vo. 6s. Part III, De Condictionibus, Digest xii. i and 4 — 7 and Digest XIII. I — 3. Crown Svo. 6s. London: Cambridge Warehouse, Ave Maria Lane. THE CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS. HISTORICAL WORKS. The Architectural History of the University of Cambridge and of the Colleges of Cambridge and Eton, by the late Professor Willis, M.A., F.R.S. Edited with large Additions and a Con- tinuation to the present time by John Willis Clakk, M.A., formerly Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge. Four \'ols. Super Royal 8vo. £6. 6s. Also a limited Edition of the same, consisting of i :o numbered Copies only, large paper Quarto ; the woodcuts and steel engravings mounted on India paper; of wliich too copies are now offered for sale, at Twenty-five Guineas net each set. The University of Cambridge from the Earliest Times to the Royallnjuiictionsofi535. BvJ.B.Mullinger.M.A. Dem\ 8vo.i2J. Part II. From the Royal Injunctions of 1535 to the Accession of Charles the First. Demy 8vo. iSj. History of the College of tit John the Evangelist, by Thomas Baker, B.D., Ejected Fellow. Edited by John E. B. Mayor, M.A., Fellow of St John's. Two Vols. Demy Svo. ^^s. Scholae Academicae : some Account of the Studies at the English Universities in the Eighteenth Century. By CHRISTOPHER Wordsworth, M.A. Demy Octavo, ICr. 6./. Studies in the Literary Relations of England with Germany in the Sixleenlh Century. ByC. II. lli.KiOKH, M.A. LiuwnSvo. (j.>. Life and Times of Stein, or Germany and frussia in ine Napoleonic Age, by J. R. Seeley, M.A. With Portraits and Maps. 3 vols. Demy Svo. ZOs. The Growth of English Industry and Commerce. By W. Ci-NNiN(;iiAM, ];.!>. With Maps and Charts. Crown Svo. 12s. Chronological Tables of Greek History. By Caul Petkr. Translated from the German l)y G. Chawner, M.A. Demy 410. lox. of Roman History. l?y the same. {Pnparin^. Travels in Northeni Arabia in 1876 and 1877. By Charles M. I)iii i;ii I V. With Illustrations. Demy Svo. \/ii the Tras. History of Nepal, edited with an introductory sketch of the Country and People by Dr D. Wright. Super-royal Svo. lO.r. 6^/. A Journey of Liternry and Archaeological Research in Nepal and .Northern Imlia, during the Wiiiler of i,S,S4- _:;. Uy li.iii. Benimll, M.A. Demy Svo. \os. MISCELLANEOUS. Kinship and Marriage in early Arabia, l)y W. Rohertson S.MITH, .\I.A., LI,.D., Ford Almoner's Professor of Arabic in the University of ( 'amliridgi-. Crown Hvo. -•.. (>,!. Statutes for the University of Cambridge and for the Colleges therein, made, published and appro\eean of Wells. 5^. Book of Jeremiah. By Rev. A. W. Streane, M..\. 4^. dd. Book of Hosea. By Rev. T. K. Chevne, M.A., D.D. is. Books of Obadiah and Jonah. By Arch. Picrowne. 2s. Gd. Book of Micah. Rev. T. K. Chkvne, M.A., D.D. \s. Gd. Books of Haggai and Zechariah. By Arcli. I'kkownk. t,s. Gospel according to St Matthew, By Ktv. A. (!akk, M-.A. With 2 Majis. IS. (uL Gospel according to St Mark. By Rev. (i. 1'. Maclear, IXD. With 4 Maps. ts. 6(t. Gospel according to St Luke. By Archdeacon Farrar. With .f .\Iai,s. 4 J. Gd. Gospel according to St John. By Rev. ,\. I'eummer, M.A., D.D. With ., Mr.],,. 41. Gd. Acts of the Apostles. By Rev. Professor Limi-.v, D.D. With 4 .Ma|m. 4r. (x/. EpLstle to the Romans. Rev. H. C. G. Moui.K, M.A. t,s.(u/. London: Cambridge IVarc/wuse, Ave Maria Lane. PUBLICATIONS OF First Corinthians. By Rev. J. J. Lias, M.A. With Map. 2s. Second Corinthians. By Rev. J. J. Lias, M.A. With ALip. 2.s-. Epistle to the Hebrews. By Arch. Farrar, D.D. t,s. Gd. General Epistle of St James. By Very Rev. E. H. Plumptre, D.D. IS. (ui. Epistles of St Peter and St Jude. By Very Rev. E. H. Pi.UMPTRp;, D.D. IS. M. Epistles of St John. By Rev. A. Plummer,M.A., D.D. y.Gd. Preparing. Book of Genesis. 15y Very Rev. R. Pavxe Smith, D.D. Books of Exodus, Numbers and Deuteronomy. By Rev. C. D. Ginsiu:rg, LL.D. First and Second Books of Kings. By Prof. Lumby, D.D. Book of Psalms. By Rev. Prof. Kirkpatrick, M..\. Book of Isaiah. By Prof. W. Robertson Smith, M.A. Book of Ezekiel. By Rev. A. B. Davidson, D.D. Epistle to the Galatians. ]]y Rev. E. H. Perowne, D.D. Epistles to the Ephesians, Philippians, Colossians and Philemon. By Rev. H. C. G. Moui.E, M.A. Book of Kevelation. By Rev. W. H. Simcox, RLA. THE CAMBRIDGE GREEK TESTAMENT FOR SCHOOLS AND COLLEGES with a Revised Text, based on the most recent critical authorities, and English Notes, prepared under the direction of the General Editor, J. J. S. PEROWNE, D.D., Dean of PETERiiORouGH. Gospel according to St Matthew, By Rev. A. Carr, M.A. With 4 ^Laps. 4^. ()il. Gospel according to St Mark. By Rev. G. F. Maclear, D. D. With 3 ^L^ps. 4J. 6./. Gospel according to St Luke. Py Archdeacon Farrar. With 4 Ma]is. 6.C Gospel according to St John. By Rev. A. Plummer, M.A. With 4 Maps. 6,f. Acts of the Apostles, By Rev. Professor Lumby, D.D. With 4 Maps. 6^. First Epistle to the Corinthians, By Rev. J. J. Lias, ALA. Epistle to the Hebrews, By Arch. Farrar, D.D. [/« ///(.' Pro:!:. Epistle of St James. By Very Rev. E. H. Peumpire, D.D. [^Preparing. Epistles of St John. By Rev. A. Plummer, M.A., D.D. i,s. Londoti : Cambridge Warehouse, Ave Maria Lane. THE CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS. THE PITT PRESS SERIES. — ♦- — ADAPTED TO THE USE OF STUDENTS PREPARING FOR THE UNIVERSITY LOCAL EXAMINATIONS, AND THE HIGHER CLASSES OF SCHOOLS. iTgreek Sophocles— Oedipus Tyrannus. School Edition, with Intro- duction and Commentary by R. C. Jebb, Litt.D., LL.D. Pro- fessor of Greek in the University of Glasgow, rricc 4^. dd. The Anabasis of Xenophon. With Introduction, Map and English Notes, by A. Pketor, M.A. Two vols. Price -js. 6d. Books I. III. IV. and V. By the same Editor. Frice IS. each. Books II. VI. and VII. Price 2s. 6d. each. Luciani Somnium Charon Piscator et De Luctu. By W. E. Heitland, M.A., Fellow of St John's College, Cambridge. Price 7,s. 6d. Agesilaus of Xenophon. By H. Hailstone, M.A., late Scholar of Peterhouse, Cambridge. Price 2s. 6d. Aristophanes— Ranae. By W. C, Green, M.A., late Assistant Master at Rugby School. Price y. (>d. Aristophanes— Aves. By the same. New Edition. 3^-. 6d. Aristophanes— Plutus. By the same Editor. Frice y. 6d. Euripides. Hercules Fureus. With Introduction, Notes and Analysis. By A. Gray, .M.A., Fellow of Jesus College, Cam- bridge, and J. T. Hutchinson, M.A., Christ's College. iScw Edition with additions. Price is. Euripides. Heracleidae. With Introduction and Critical Notes by K. A. I'.KCK, M.A., Fellow of Trinity Hall. Price- y. Gd. Plutarch's Lives of the Gracchi. Witli Introduction, Notes and Lexicon by Rev. IL A. Holde.n, M.A., LL.D., Examiner in (Jreek to tlic University of London. Price (js. Plutarch's Life of Sulla. With Introduction, Notes, and Lexicon. \',y ihe Rev. H. A. 1 l<»i i>k.\, ^LA., l.L.H. Price ds. IL LATIN. P. Vergili Maronis Aeneidos Libri 1. XJI. Edited with Notes by A. SiDcwicK, M.A., Tutor of Corpus Christi College, Oxford. Price \s. fxl. each. P. Verj^ili Maronis Georgicon Libri I. II. ''0' tl'c same l','nt'>r. J'rid- 2i. Gai luli Caesaris de Bello GaUico Comment. I. II. III. With Maps and Notes by A. G. PESKETT, M.A. Fellow ol M-igdalenc College, Cambridge. Price 31. Comment. IV. V., and Comment. VLI. Price u. e.ich, Comment. VI. and Comment. VIII. By the same Editor. J'riic \s. (yd. each. London : Cambridge IVarehouse, Ave Maria Lane. 14 PUBLICATIONS OF Quintus Curtius. A Portion of the History (Alexander in India). By W. E. IIeitland, M.A, and T. E. Raven, B.A. With Two Ma]is. Price y. (,d. M. T. Ciceronis de Amicitia. Edited by J. S. Reid, Litl. D., Fellow of Gonville and Caius College. Revised edition. 3^. Gd. M. T. Ciceronis de Senectute. By the same Editor. 3^. 6d. M. T. Ciceronis Oratio pro Archia Poeta. By the same ICditor. Revised edition. Price 2S. M. T. Ciceronis pro L. Cornelio Balbo Oratio. By the same Editor. Price Js. 6 J. M. T. Ciceronis pro P. Cornelio Sulla Oratio. By the same Editor. Price ^s. 6d. M. T. Ciceronis in Q. Caecilium Divinatio at in C. Verrem Actio. With Notes by W. E. IIeitland, M.A., and H. CowiK, M.A. , Fellows of St John's College, Cambridge. Price ^s. M. T. Ciceronis in Gaium Verrem Actio Prima. With Notes by H. CowiE, M. A., Fellow of St John's Coll. Price is. 6d. M. T. Ciceronis Oratio pro L. Murena, with English Intro- duction and Notes. By W. E. IIeitland, M.A. Price ^s. M. T. Ciceronis Oratio pro Tito Annio Milone, with English Notes, &c., by John Smyth Purton, B.D. Price is. 6d. M. T. Ciceronis pro Cn. Plancio Oratio, by H. A. Holden, LL.D., late Fellow of Trinity College, Cambridge. Price 4J. 6d. M. T. Ciceronis Somnium Scipionis. With Introduction and Notes. Edited by W. D. Pearman, M.A. Price 2s. M. Annaei Lucani Pharsaliae Liber Primus, with English Introduction and Notes by W. E. Heitland, M.A., and C. E. Haskins, M.A., Fellows of St John's CoU., Cambridge, is. 6d. P. Ovidii Nasonis Fastorum Liber VI. With Notes by A. SiDGWiCK, M.A., Tutor of Corpus Christi Coll., Oxford, is. 6d. Beda's Ecclesiastical History, Books III., IV. Edited, with a life, Notes, Glossary, Onomasticon and Index, by J. E. B. Mayor, M.A., and J. R. Lumby, D.D. Revised Edition, "js. 6d. III. FRENCH. Jeanne D'Arc. By A. de Lamartine. Edited with a Map and Notes Historical and Philological, and a Vocabulary, by Rev. A. C. ClaI'IN, M.A., St John's College, Cambridge. 7s. Le Bourgeois Gentilhomme, Comedie-Ballet en Cinq Actes. Par J.-B. Poquelin de Moliere (1670). By the same Editor, i^. 6d. La Picciola. By X. B. Saintine. The Text, with Intro- duction, Notes and Map. By the same Editor. Price 2s. La Guerre. By MM. Erckmann-Chatrian. With Map, Introduction and Commentary by the same Editor. Price 3^-. Le Directoire. (Conside'rations sur la Re'volution Frangaise. Troisieme et quatrieme parties.) Revised and enlarged. With Notes by G. Masson, B.A. and G. W. PROTnERO, M.A. Price is, London: Cambridge Ware/wuse, Ave Maria Lane. THE CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS. 15 Lazare Hoche — Par JSmile de Bonnechose. With Three Maps, Introduction and Commentary, by C. Colbeck, M.A. is. Lettres sur I'histoire de France (XIII— XXIV). Par Au- cusTix Thierry. I!y Gustave Masson, B.A. and G. W. Prothero, M.A. Price is. 61/. Dix Annees d'Exii. Livre XI. Chapitres 1—8. Par Madame LA Baronne de Stael-Holstein. By G. Masson, B.A. and G. \V. Prothero, M.A. New Edition, enlarged. Price is. Histoire du Siecle de Louis XIV. par Voltaire. Chaps. I.— XIII. Edited with Notes by Gustave Masson, B.A. and G. W. Prothero, M.A. Price is. 6d. Part II. Chaps. XIV.— XXIV. By the same. With Tliree Maps. Price is. 6(i. Part III. Chaps. XXV. to end. By the same. 2s. dd. Le Verre D'Eau. A Comedy, by Scribe. Edited by C. Colbeck, M.A. Price n. M. Daru, par M. C. A. Sainte-Beuve (Causeries du Lundi, Vol. IX.). By G. Masson, B.A. Univ. Gallic. Price is. La Suite du Menteur. A Comedy by P. Corneille. With Notes Philological and Historical, by the same. Price is. La Jeune Siberienne. Le Lepreux de la Cite D'Aoste. Tales by Cou.NT Xavier de Maistre. By the same. Price is. Fredegonde et Brunehaut. A Tragedy in Five Acts, by N. Lemercier. By Gustave ]\Iasson, B.A. Price is. Le Vieux Celibataire. A Comedy, by Collin D'Harlevillf. With Notes, by the same. Price is. La Metromanie, A Comedy, by Piron, with Notes, by the same. Price is. Lascaris ou Les Grecs du XV^ Siecle, Nouvelle Historique, par A. ¥. Ville.main. By ilic s;-iiiil-. Pri^e is. IV. GERMAN. Die Karavane, von Wilhelm Hauff. Edited with Notes by A. S( ilioi iMANN, I'll. I). Price ^s. (ul. Hauff', Das Wirthshaus im Spessart. By A Schlottmann, Ph.D., late Assistant Master at Uppingham .Scliool. Price 7,s. dd. Culturgeschichtliche Novellen, von W. H. Riehl. ICditcd by 11. J. Woi.srK.N HOLME, li.A. (Lon'S m ^ki, ;THfR'; Rf Gin-'JM LIBRARY f^CILITY ■, AA 000 601 387 i;.^t>!^^s2ii^-^ ^, '' '•'.!; ■ - ■■* . ■ > ■"> f i- ■'■'^i *■■! '-,1 'M''4' m'-"^ IJNIVJE fmmt~ ^iS^fV ?'YE«?ipEi.ie/(A(., '■:■ ^'^> 3 121001197 3482 'a. L^'M^-'^^-'vj