This is all we hear of the person who gives his name to the play. Pity's two friends return, liberate him from the stocks, and help him to convert Freewill and Imagination; a job which the trio carry through with truly undramatic celerity. The construction of this play is radically bad. It falls flat between an allegory and a farce; nor does it display that analysis of life which lends a scientific interest to some of the weightier Moralities. Yet, in the development of the English drama, it takes a place of mark; for all the characters are well touched, with pungency of portraiture and verisimilitude. Hick himself, though so occasional a personage, shows the author's effort after artistic emancipation.

A set of woodcuts, appended to this play in Wynkyn de Worde's edition, exemplify the figures which the actors cut upon the stage. Pity is a mild old man ; as fits the character of God's eternal Mercy. Contemplation carries a sword, to use in shrewd passes with the Evil One. Hick walks delicately, waving his hands to and fro, like one who jests upon the surface of the world. Freewill bears a staff, and is a gallant of the town. Imagination distinguishes himself from his friend and master less by costume than by an airy motion of his legs, betokening inconstancy and lightness. Perseverance is armed at all points in plate mail, rests his right hand on a trenchant blade, and carries in his left a banner, striding forth alert for action. Gazing at these woodcuts, we understand what allegory was for the English people, and how after two centuries the Pilgrim's Progress' came into existence.

'New Custom' claims some passing notice in con

REFORMATION PLAYS.

167

nection with 'Lusty Juventus' and 'Hick Scorner.' To judge by its style, it is considerably later in date, and may be ascribed perhaps to the first decade of Elizabeth's reign. In substance it is neither more nor less than a tract in favour of the Reformation, furnished with dramatic forms, but composed in so wooden a manner that one can hardly conceive it to have been often acted. The names of the persons are, however, interesting. Perverse Doctrine and Ignorance are two old Popish priests; New Custom and Light of the Gospel, two ministers of the reformed faith. Cruelty and Avarice, who gloat with delight over their memories of the Marian persecution, are described as rufflers, that is bullies. Hypocrisy is an old woman. There is no Vice. One sentence put into the mouth of Perverse Doctrine deserves quotation :

For since these Genevan doctors came so fast into this land,
Since that time it was never merry with England.

The Trial of Treasure' is another Moral Play which bears the impress of the Reformation, and may be attributed to the same period as New Custom.' Its aim, however, is ethical and not religious edification; and the chief point to notice, is the quaint mixture of moral saws from classic sources jumbled up with sentences from the Epistles. The Vice takes a prominent part, under the name of Inclination; but in spite of his crude horse-play with Lust, Greedy-gut, and Elation, there is little to move laughter in the piece. Ulpian Fulwell's 'Like will to Like' may placed in the same class as the Trial of Treasure.' The Vice is called Nichol Newfangle; his companions

be

are Tom Tosspot, Cuthbert Cutpurse, Ralph Roister, Pierce Pickpurse, Hance a serving man, Hankin Hangman, Philip Fleming, Tom Collier-names which sufficiently indicate the author's endeavour to substitute comedy for allegory. Indeed, the allegorical setting of this piece is merely conventional, and the moralising made to order.

VII.

Far more perfect in design, and very full of interest to modern readers, is the ancient piece called 'Everyman.' That it was not so popular as 'Lusty Juventus' or 'Hick Scorner' can be readily conceived, because its lesson is grim and dreadful. We may bring ourselves into relation with the motive of this play by studying the woodcuts in Queen Elizabeth's Prayer Book or any one of the Dances of Death ascribed to Holbein. The frontispiece to 'Everyman' recalls one of those remorseless meditations on the grave. A fine gentleman of the Court of Henry VII. is walking with his hat upon his head and a chain around his neck. among the flowers of a meadow. Death, the skeleton, half-clothed in a loose shroud, and holding in his arm the cover of a sepulchre, beckons to this gallant from a churchyard full of bones and crosses. Life is thus brought into abrupt collision with the cold Hic jacets of the dead' and him who rules there. Collier, who thinks this play may be as old as the reign of Edward IV., terms it 'one of the most perfect allegories ever formed;' nor is this praise extravagant, for the texture of the plot is both simple and strong, in strict keeping with its stern and serious theme. God opens the play

with a monologue in which He sets forth the sacrifice of Christ, and upbraids mankind for their ingratitude. Worldly riches cumber them; they pay no heed to piety; justice must be done upon them, and each soul shall be reminded of his latter end. Therefore he calls Death to Him:1

Where art thou, Death, thou mighty messenger?

Death answers:

Almighty God, I am here at your will.

He is then sent forth to go in search of Everyman, and tell him to prepare for a long pilgrimage. Death finds this representative of the whole human race disporting himself in careless wise, and suddenly arrests him :

Everyman, stand still! Whither art thou going
Thus gaily?

When Everyman hears the message, he begs a respite, and offers Death gold; but all the favour he can find is the permission to take with him such friends as shall be willing to bear him company. Fellowship proffers his readiness to do anything for Everyman; but when he hears of Death and that long pilgrimage, he shakes his head. If you had asked me to drink or dice or kill a man with you, I would have done it but this, no! Kindred passes by, hears Everyman's request, and says the same as Fellowship, but with even less sympathy. Then Everyman betakes him to his Goods; but these are so close packed away

1 In the Coventry Miracles, Mors says: 'I am Death, God's messenger,'

in bags and boxes that they cannot stir. Far from being disposed to help him, Gold only mocks at his distress, rejoices in it, and chuckles at the thought of staying in the world to corrupt more souls of men. At length Everyman remembers his Good Deeds. 'My Good Deeds, where be you?' She (for Good Deeds is a female character) replies:

Here I lie, cold in the ground;

Thy sins have me so sore bound
That I cannot stir.

She, however, is the only one of Everyman's acquaintances who yields him any service. She bids him have recourse to Knowledge, and Knowledge introduces him to Confession. Confession shrives him, and releases Good Deeds from her dungeon. Then Everyman makes ready for his journey, taking with him Strength, Discretion, Beauty, and Five Wits. When they reach the churchyard, Everyman begins to faint; and each of these false friends forsakes him. Good Deeds alone has no horror of the grave, but descends with him to abide God's judgment. The piece ends with an Angel's song, welcoming the soul of Everyman, which has been parted from the body and made fit for heaven.

6

The Moral Play of Everyman' has an interesting parallel in William Bullein's Dialogue both pleasant and pitiful, wherein is a goodly Regiment against the Fever Pestilence.' This tract, printed in 1564, and again in 1573, illustrates the influence which the Drama at that early period exercised over style. It is conceived in the manner of the Moralities, and its descriptive passages enable us to understand how they