The Catholic World Volume I Part 85

The king, amazed at the knowledge of the stranger, gives him a vast sum of gold, for the construction of his palace. But it was not an earthly edifice that the apostle proposed to build--it was a heavenly and spiritual edifice whose materials were alms and good works. He therefore distributes among the beggars whom he meets all the money which has been given him. At the end of two years, Gondoforus comes to see the building, and not finding it, he thus addresses St. Thomas and Abanes:

"Scoundrels without conscience born, Where has all my money gone?

My trust in you has cost me dear.

THOMAS

Sire, therewith I did uprear A palace fair, of rare device For you--

AGATUS.

Where is't?

THOMAS.

In Paradise."

The Indian king, who does not understand that style of architecture, throws St. Thomas and Abanes into prison. Scarcely has he returned home with his followers, when Agatus suddenly dies. The angels descend in haste to bear his soul to heaven. [Footnote 117] "What do I see?"

he cries. "The palace which Thomas has made for thy brother," replies Raphael. "Great G.o.d, but I am not pure enough to be its porter!" "Thy brother," said Uriel, "has made himself unworthy of it. But if thou desirest, we will supplicate our Lord to restore thee to earth, and this palace shall be thine when thou hast repaid the king his money."

The soul of Agatus joyfully agreed to this, and was restored to its body by Uriel. Then Agatus, as soon as life returned, arose and told Gondoforus all that he had seen, proposing to reimburse him for all the expenses of this heavenly palace the possession of which he desired. The amazed king, wishing to secure the beautiful palace for himself, goes and flings himself at the feet of St. Thomas, beseeching baptism for himself and court.

[Footnote 117: "Although the arts of the middle ages," says Father Cahier, "did not adopt an absolutely invariable form for the representation of souls, the most ordinary symbol is that of a small, nude figure escaping from the mouth, like a sword drawn from the sheath." _Monagraphie de la Cathedrale de Bourges_, p. 158, note 2.]

When the "Mystery of the Acts of the Apostles" was played at Bruges in 1536, so perfect was the representation of this legend and the other marvels of the piece, says the old historian Du Berry, that many of the hearers thought it real and not feigned. They saw, among a thousand other wondrous sights, the provost of the king of the Indies enter riding on a huge dromedary, very well constructed, which moved its head, opened its mouth, and ran out its tongue. When the butler was punished, they saw a lion steal up and bite off the hand, and a dog who bore it still bleeding into the midst of the feasters. These were not the only animal prodigies that pa.s.sed under the eyes of the spectators. In the representation of the sixteenth book, for example, two sorcerers, irritated against St. Matthew, caused a mult.i.tude of serpents to appear, and the apostle summoned forth from the earth a very terrible dragon which devoured them. In another part of this same book, St. Philip, having been led before the G.o.d Mars, makes a dragon leap forth from the mouth of the idol, which kills the son of the pagan bishop, two tribunes, and two varlets. In the course of the seventh book, a still more extraordinary automaton appears. St. Andrew delivers Greece from a monstrous serpent fifty cubits long. "Here,"

says the note introduced for the ordering of the mystery, "an oak must be planted, and a serpent must be coiled beneath the said oak, glaring, and must vomit forth a great quant.i.ty of blood and then die."

The marvels of the art multiply themselves infinitely and in all directions. We see, for example, idols crumbling into powder at the voice of the apostles, and temples crushing the pagans in their fall.

We see Saul {583} struck down from his horse by a great light out of heaven; St. Thomas walking over red-hot iron; St. Barnabas fast bound upon a cart-wheel over a pan of live coals, which burn him to cinders.

[Footnote 118] We see, also, the apostles borne through the air to a.s.sist at the death of the Virgin. "Here lightning must be made in a white cloud, and this cloud must float around St. John, who is preaching at Ephesus, and he must be borne in the cloud to the gates of Notre Dame." A moment after, "thunder and lightning must burst forth from a white cloud which shall veil over the apostles as they preach in different countries, and bear them before the gates of Notre Dame." While the apostles are carrying the body of the Holy Virgin to the tomb, chanting _In exitu Israel de Egypto_, "a rosy cloud in shape like a coronet must descend, on which should be many holy saints holding naked swords and darts." A mob of Jews come to lay hands on the shrine. "As soon as they touch it, their hands must be glued to the litter and become withered and black; and the angels in the cloud must cast down fire upon them and a storm of darts." The sacrilegious Jews are struck with blindness. Some of them are converted and recover their sight. Five remain obstinate. The devils come to torment them, and finally strangle them. "Here their souls rise in the air and the devils bear them away." Lastly, we have the a.s.sumption of the Holy Virgin. "Here Gabriel puts a soul into the body of Mary, after Michael has rolled away the stone. And the Virgin Mary rises to her knees, a halo of glory round her like the sun. Then a grand pause of the organ or anthem, while Mary is being placed in the cloud on which she will ascend. The angels should sing as they disappear _Venite ascendamus_, and the angels ought to surround the Virgin and bear her above Gabriel and the other angels." Lifted thus above nine choirs of angels, she elicits vast admiration, and beholding from the height of heaven St.

Thomas, who could not arrive in time to a.s.sist at her death and receive her last benediction, she throws him her girdle.

[Footnote 118: "Daru will pretend to burn Barnabas, and will burn a feigned body, and will lower Barnabas under the earth."]

Thus in this drama, requiring forty days and five hundred and thirty persons [Footnote 119] for its performance, heaven, air, earth, h.e.l.l, all partic.i.p.ated in the movement and the spectacle. What kind of a theatre was required for such scenic action? In the sixteenth century men saw theatres with two stages for the miracles of Notre Dame. The Mysteries of the Acts of the Apostles and of the Pa.s.sion required three. Heaven was on high, h.e.l.l below, earth in mid-s.p.a.ce. Let us attempt to build anew these theatres before the eyes of our readers.

[Footnote 119: This is the number of actors employed in the representation made at Bruges in 1536, according to the calculation of M. Chevalier de Saint-Amand. Cahier, "_Monographie de la Cathedrale de Bourges,_" p. 153. We find only 484 persons in the "_Repertoire, des noms contenus au jeu des actes des apotres_." See the edition of this "Mystery" published at Paris in 1541 by Arnoul and Charles les Angliers, under this t.i.tle: "_Les catholiques OEuvres et Actes des Apotres_."]

Paradise was an amphitheatre in form. High above appeared the Deity, seated upon a golden throne and overlooking all--the stage and the audience. At the four corners of his throne sat four persons representing Peace, Mercy, Justice, Truth. At their feet were nine choirs of angels ranged by hierarchies upon the steps. There was s.p.a.ce also for the blessed spirits and for the organ which accompanied the celestial chants. Everything flashed and glittered. The painter and the carver were prodigal of their wonders. Of this we can form a judgment from a description of the paradise displayed at Bruges on the representation of the "Triumphant Mystery of the Acts of the Apostles." According to a contemporary narrative, five hundred and odd actors, sallying forth from the abbey of St. Sulpice on Sunday afternoon, April 30, 1536, bore with them in great pomp the apparatus of a spectacle which they were about to give at the amphitheatre of the _Arenes_. {584} They had a paradise twelve feet long, and eight feet wide. "It had all around it open thrones painted to resemble pa.s.sing clouds, and both without and within were little angels as cherubim and seraphim, powers and dominations, in bas-relief, their hands joined and always moving. In the middle was a seat fashioned like a rainbow, upon which was seated the G.o.dhead--Father, Son, and Holy Ghost; and behind were two gold suns revolving continuously in opposing orbits. At the four corners were seats on which reposed Justice, Peace, Truth, and Mercy, richly clothed; and beside the said G.o.dhead were two small angels chanting hymns and canticles to the music of the players on the flute, the harp, the lute, the rebec, and the viol, who circled about the paradise."

The same account describes a h.e.l.l fourteen feet in length and eight in width. "It was made in the fashion of a rock, upon which was raised a tower always burning and sending forth flames. At the four corners of the said rock were four small towers, within which appeared spirits undergoing diverse torments, and on the fore-edge of the rock writhed a great serpent, hissing and emitting fire from his mouth and ears and nostrils; and along the pa.s.sages of the said rock twined and crawled all kinds of serpents and great toads."

"The form and dimensions of this fiery cavern varied according to the exigencies of the dramatic action; but its place was invariably in the lower part of the theatre. In this were a.s.sembled all the _diablerie_, usually comprising a dozen princ.i.p.al personages; and from thence issued a terrible storm of howls and shrieks. Lucifer was there, and Satan, Belial, Cerberus, Astaroth, Burgibus, Leviathan, Proserpine, and other devils great and small. The gate through which they pa.s.sed when coming to earth to torment mankind, appeared in shape like the enormous jaws of a dragon, and was called h.e.l.l's mouth." [Footnote 120]

[Footnote 120: At the representation of the "Mystery of the Pa.s.sion"

at Metz, in July, 1437. "The mouth of h.e.l.l was exceedingly well made, for it opened and shut when the devils wished to enter or go forth, and it had a great steel under-work." _Chronique de Metz_, MS.; composed by a cure of St. Eustache, cited by Beauchamps, in the _Recherches sur les theatres_.'']

Limbo, when demanded by the peculiar features of the play, as in the Mystery of the Resurrection, was placed below h.e.l.l, and was symbolized by a huge tower with slits and gratings on all sides, in order that the spectators might catch glimpses of the spirits confined there. As these spirits were only statuettes, there was stationed behind the tower a body of men who howled and shrieked in concert, and when anything was to be said to the audience, a strong and l.u.s.ty voice spoke in the name of all. [Footnote 121] When a purgatory was needed, it was located and constructed after nearly the same manner.

[Footnote 121: "_Mysteres inedits du XVe siecle_" published by Achille Jubinal, t.i., preface, p. xlii. (Paris, 1837). Let us remark here in pa.s.sing, that M. Jubinal, who is better acquainted with the ma.n.u.scripts of the middle ages than with his catechism, has confounded limbo with purgatory. ]

The stage, properly so called, which was on a level with the audience, represented earth--that is, the different countries to which the dramatic action was successively transferred. It therefore required a vastly greater s.p.a.ce than h.e.l.l or paradise; the one symbolized by a cavern, and the other by an amphitheatre. It was divided into compartments, and inscriptions indicated the countries and the cities.

This division was effected by scaffolds entirely separate, when there was room enough. Thus at the "Mystery of the Pa.s.sion," represented at Paris in 1437, at the entrance of King Charles VII., the scaffolds occupied the whole of the Rue St. Denis for a distance of a stone's throw on either side, and the more remote stage, on which the last judgment was exhibited, was before Le Chatelet. The spectators were obliged to travel from one part to the other with the actors. But they remained seated, and could see the whole without change of place, at the performance of the same mystery, given the same year at Metz, in the {585} plain of Veximiel. For the vast semicircle destined for the a.s.sembly had nine rows of seats, and behind were the grand chairs for the lords and dames a.s.sembled from all parts of the province, and even from Germany. It was the same at Bruges on the preceding year at the representation of the "Acts of the Apostles." The enclosure occupied the whole s.p.a.ce of the ancient amphitheatre, commonly called the Ditch of the Arenes. It had two stages, and vast pavilions protected the spectators from the inclemency of the weather and the heat of the sun.

But three years after, in 1541, when the burgesses of Paris played that immense drama in the hall of l'Hotel de Flandre, or when the Fraternity of the Pa.s.sion gave their representations for a century and a half, at their theatre of the Trinity, in a hall one hundred and twenty-nine feet long and thirty-six feet deep, how were local distinctions indicated? Then the stage, in default of s.p.a.ce, was divided by simple part.i.tions, and inscriptions, indicating beyond mistake the houses, cities, and diverse countries, were more indispensable than ever. We may remark, finally, that in the great mysteries, divided by days, it was easy during the temporary suspension of the play to give a new aspect to the stage by a change of scenery. Sometimes, also, as in the preceding century, the actors were obliged to inform the audience that they were transported from one place to another by saying, "Here we come to Bethlehem--to Jerusalem. We are making sail for Rome--for Athens, etc." And the illusion was kept up, as far as could be, by the cessation of the music, in the interval during which, to use an expression of M.

Sainte-Beuve, the mighty train swept on across s.p.a.ce and time.

Pa.s.sing from the architecture of the theatre to the physiognomy of the actors, let us study the manner in which they were recruited. There were stock companies, and extemporized companies. Of the first description were the "Fraternity of the Pa.s.sion," so celebrated in the history of the representations of the "mysteries" at the end of the middle ages. There were also the burgesses of Paris, artisans of all handicrafts, who, at the end of the fourteenth century, a.s.sembled at the village of St. Maur, near Vincennes, to give on festal days their pious spectacles. Interdicted June 3, 1398, by ordinance of the provost of Paris, who mistrusted this novelty, they obtained from King Charles VI., by letters patent of December 4, 1402, permission to play even at Paris, and at the same time their society was elevated into a permanent fraternity, under the t.i.tle of _De la Pa.s.sion de Notre Seigneur,_ and was installed near the gate St. Denis in the ancient hospital of the Trinity, then for some time disused.

It would appear that in certain provinces, cities, and even parishes, had, like Paris, their a.s.sociation of miracle-players. But, most commonly, these companies were improvised, and consisted of volunteers. This was the case at the gigantic representations of the Mystery of the Acts of the Apostles at Bruges and at Paris. We have still "the cry and public proclamation made at Paris, Thursday, the sixteenth of December, 1540, by the command of our lord the king, Francis I. by name, and monsieur the provost of Paris, summoning the people to fill the parts necessary for the playing of said mystery."

At eight o'clock of the morning there were a.s.sembled at the Hotel de Flandre, where the "mystery" was to be performed, all those who were charged with its management, rhetoricians, gentlemen of the long robe and the short, lawyers and commoners, clergymen and laity, in vast numbers. They paraded through the streets in fine apparel, all well mounted according to their estate and capacity, preceded by six trumpeters and escorted by numerous sergeants of the provost, who kept the crowd in check. They halted at every square, and, after a triple flourish of trumpets, a public crier made the proclamation, which was in bad rhyme. Ten days {586} after, on St. Stephen's day, the large hall of the Hotel de Flandre--the usual place, says the narrative, for making the records and holding the rehearsals of the mysteries, was filled with a crowd of burgesses and merchants, clergy and laity, who came to exhibit their talents in the presence of the commissioners and lawyers deputed to hear the voice of each person, retaining and remunerating them according to the measure of their excellence in the parts required. The selections having been made, the rehearsals commenced and continued every day until the performance of the mystery, which was played at the beginning of the next year.

Whoever deemed himself of any value responded generously to these appeals, not only among the _bourgeois_ and gentlemen--artisans and magistrates--but also the cures and their vicars, the canons, and sometimes even the friars. Women alone were excluded, the female parts being always filled by men. The partic.i.p.ation of the clergy in these scenic diversions is readily accounted for, when one considers the moral aim and the religious character of the plays. All these dramas represent the mysteries and history of Christianity. All commence, either with readings from the Holy Scripture or by the chanting of the hymns of the Church, or by the recitation of the Ave Maria--the whole a.s.semblage kneeling and joining in the services. All ended, moreover, as in preceding centuries, with the _Te Deum_. The spectacle was frequently interrupted by preaching, and more than once, at the end of a dramatic day, actors and spectators might be seen wending their way to church to offer up thanks to heaven. Beside, did not the clergy find themselves on their own ground, in these plays, inst.i.tuted in order to increase the solemnity of their sacred days, and evincing unquestionable traces of a liturgic origin? Let us add finally, with Dom Piolin, that a distinction was rigorously maintained between profane pieces and those whose aim was the edification and the instruction of the faithful; that while zealously keeping in check all acting which could possibly be turned to license, the clergy furthered with all their power the exhibiting of the "mysteries." The learned Benedictin presents to us the chapter of St. Julien at Mans preventing, in 1539, the ringing of the cathedral bells in order not to interrupt a representation of the Miracle of Theophilus; and stopping them again, in 1556, and, in addition, hastening the morning offices and delaying those of evening, in order to accommodate them to the time of the performance of the "Mystery of the Conception of the most Holy Virgin."

After the distribution of parts, all the actors were obliged on the spot to pledge themselves by oath and under penalty of a fine never to be absent from the rehearsals. A second appeal to the public good-will was necessary to secure a wardrobe for the hundreds of players, who on the day of exhibition wore sometimes the richest jewels and the most beautiful stuffs of a whole province. The magnificence of the spectacle at Bruges, in 1536, would strike us as incredible, if the author of the narrative which has preserved us the details, had not taken the precaution to forewarn his readers at the start that he kept within the truth. As ill.u.s.trating its splendor, take the following examples, gathered here and there from the volume.

St. James the Lesser wore a scarf estimated at 450 gold crowns. The girdle of St. Matthew was valued at more than 500 crowns sterling.

Queen Dampdeomopolis, who was mounted on an ambling pad which was covered with a housing of black velvet and had a gold fringed harness, wore a petticoat of cloth of gold, beneath a robe of crimson damask bordered with gold chains, while down the front ran a rich beading of precious stones, rubies and diamonds, of the value of more than 2,000 crowns. This is not all. From head to foot gold and jewels glittered {587} on her person. Her head-dress was surmounted by a white feather, and on her forehead hung by a little thread of black silk a huge oriental pearl. The wife of Herod Agrippa had for her girdle a great gold chain of more than 1,000 crowns in value; from which hung chaplets carved in facets. She had on her neck another great chain and a collar of pearls, whence hung a ring and sprig of four diamonds, and on her stomacher was a _dorure_ which bore a gold dog having a great ruby hanging from its neck, and a great pearl suspended to the tail.

All these princesses--and they could be counted by dozens--had with them their maids, their squires, and their pages, handsomely clothed.

There were likewise princes, kings, and emperors, who came from all quarters of the world.

Nothing approaches to the magnificence of Nero. It would carry us too far out of our way if we should mention in detail the numerous and brilliant cortege which preceded the formidable emperor when the actors issued from the abbey of St. Sulpice, where they robed themselves before entering the theatre. First came a troop of musicians composed of a fifer, six trumpeters, and four players on the tamborine; next the grand provost of Rome, mounted on a splendid horse caparisoned with violet-colored satin, fringed with white silk; then four cavaliers attending the ensign-bearer of Nero; presently four companies of Moors crowned with laurels and bearing, some, ma.s.ses of gilded silver, others, vases of silver and gold or _cornucopiae_ filled with _fleurs de lis_--or the armorial bearings of the empire inter-worked on triumphal hats. Lastly, a horse appeared covered to the ground with flesh-colored velvet, bordered with tracery of gold, into which were woven the devices of Nero. This horse, conducted by two lackeys clothed also with flesh-colored velvet, bore a cushion of silk and cloth-of-gold in Turkish work, on which lay three crowns, the first, solid gold; the second, all pearls; the third, composed of every kind of precious stone of marvellous beauty and richness--and these three crowns formed the imperial head-gear.

Next there came into sight another horse, whose harness and caparison were of blue satin, fringed with gold and bestrewn with stars made of embroidery of gold stuff on a violet field. The two lackeys who led it by the bridle, had their heads uncovered and were clothed with velvet of a violet crimson, purfled with gold, slashed with broad slashes, through which the lining of white satin showed itself in folds. This was the saddle-horse of the emperor.

Afterward came six players on the hautboy clothed in sarcinet of a violet crimson.

Nero appeared last, borne on a high tribunal eight feet wide and ten long, and covered to the earth with cloth-of-gold, strewn with large embroidered eagles, "copied as closely as possible from the life." The chair on which he was seated was entirely covered with another cloth-of-gold crimped. His _sagum_, or military cloak, was of blue velvet all purfled with gold, with large flowers in needle-work after the antique; the sleeves slashed, and displaying beneath the undulating folds of the lining, which was of gold stuff on a violet field. His robe, a crimson velvet, adorned with flowers and interlaced with gold thread, was lined with velvet of the same color. The cape was serrated, the points interblending, and was bestrewn with a profusion of great pearls, and at each point hung a great ta.s.sel of other pearls. His hat, of Persian velvet and of _a tyrannical fashion_, was bordered with chains of gold and strewn with a great quant.i.ty of rings. His gold crown, with its triple branches, was filled with gems so numerous, so varied, and of so great a price that it is impossible to specify them. And his collar was not less garnished. His buskins, of Persian velvet, with small slashes, were laced with chains of gold, and some rings hung from his {588} garters.

He placed one of his feet upon a casket which enclosed the imperial seal and was covered with silver cloth sown with gems, thus symbolizing that the power of the empire was his, and that all things were submissive to him. In his hand was a battle-axe well gilded. His port was haughty and his mien very magnificent. The tribunal, with the monarch upon it, was borne by eight captive kings, the drapery concealing from the audience everything save their heads, on which rested crowns of gold. A troupe of musicians followed with trumpets, clarions, tamborines, and fifes. The procession was closed by twenty-four cavaliers, captains, chevaliers, squires, cup-bearers--some wearing the imperial livery, others clad according to their pleasure; and by chariots which were loaded with the emperor's baggage and _vivanderie_, and were drawn by eighteen or twenty horses.

Nero's sagum, with its splendid flower-work _after the antique_, his hat of _tyrannical fashion_, his battle-axe, the eagles embroidered on the drapery which covered his tribunal, the laurel crowns which begirt the brows of his Moorish guards, the _cornucopiae_, the vases of gold and silver which they carried, all indicate a tendency toward historical costume. This is also seen in the robes of the seventy-two disciples _approaching the ancient manner_--the caps of the high priests, Josephus and Abiachar, made _according to the Jewish manner_--the dagger of Polemius, king of Armenia, the golden handle of which was prepared _after the antique_--the robe, _fashioned after the Hebrew manner_, which was worn by the young Jew whom we saw singing at the marriage of Pelagia and Denis. But apart from these examples and some others which are found here and there in the pompous catalogue of the actors of Bruges, everybody used great liberty and much fancifulness in the choice of habiliments. Each person took the most beautiful things he could lay hands on. The cortege of Nero closed, as we have seen, by cavaliers dressed _after their own pleasure_. The marechal of Migdeus, king of Greater Ynde, and his valet, had taffeta clothes while bearing on their shoulders bars of iron and mallets. The lord of Quantilly, author of the relation from which we have derived our details, after having spoken of a group of eighteen or twenty persons blind, halt, demoniac, lepers and vagabonds, confesses that they were too well clad to accord with their condition.

Thus far we have concerned ourselves with the history of the mysteries and their representation; we shall now proceed to a critical retrospect of the subject.

The trilogy of the "Mystery of the Pa.s.sion" and the "Triumphant Mystery of the Acts of the Apostles," deserve an important place in the history of French dramatic art, not only because they characterize the epoch of which they were the two chief works, but also because they have an intimate and an essential connection with the tragic masterpieces of the eighteenth century--a connection also which has been little noticed. We propose to consider the literary value and the influence of those two plays, commencing with an estimate of the _mise en scene_ and the spectacle whose fairy-like pomp and immense popularity we have just taken in view.

The dramatic writers and the managers of the "mysteries" were well aware that to move the mult.i.tude the eye is of greater power than the ear. We have seen that they directed all their energies to the marvels of stage effect. But they did not listen to the precept of the poet, a precept founded on the very nature of art, which enjoins that only those things should be interwoven into the composition which can be witnessed without incredulity and without disgust. If the devils intervene, they must be introduced with their bat-shaped wings ever moving, and fire issuing from their nostrils, their mouth, and their ears, while they held in their hands {589} fiery distaffs shaped like serpents; that Cerberus, porter of h.e.l.l, should have on his helmet three heads emitting flame, and that the keys he carried in his hand should seem to have just issued from a furnace, they sparkled so; that the long and hideous b.r.e.a.s.t.s of Proserpine should drip incessantly with blood, and with jets of fire at intervals; that Lucifer should have a casque vomiting forth flames unceasingly, and should hold in his grasp handfuls of vipers which moved in fiery twists. It was then everywhere fire, and, above all, real fire--for the contemporary authority who furnishes us with the details is particular to tell us, two several times, that there were people employed to feed this fire.

The fire thus carried about by the devils in all their goings and comings, and ever bursting from the mouth of h.e.l.l when opened, became naturally the occasion of numerous accidents. We have an example of this nature which might have been tragical, but by good luck was only ludicrous, in the performance of the "Mystery of St. Martin" at Seurre, in 1496. At the commencement of the spectacle, which lasted three days, and opened with a scene of _diablerie_, the man who held the role of Satan having wished, says an official report of this epoch, to ascend to earth, caught fire in his nether garments, and was severely burnt. But he was so suddenly rescued and reclothed, that, without any one being aware of the accident, he went through with his part and then retired to his house. The affair had occurred in the morning between seven and eight o'clock. When he returned at one in the afternoon, the interval allowed, according to usage, for the audience to dine in being now over, he addressed to Lucifer, who was the cause of his misadventure, four impromptu verses that the public applauded exceedingly, but their grossness prevents our reproducing them.

These material imitations of physical nature and these exaggerations of the spectacle appear everywhere. When they wished, for example, to represent a martyr, it was necessary that the victim should be visibly tortured. We have even, in the representation of the "Mystery of the Acts of the Apostles," St. Barnabas disappearing adroitly and leaving his counterfeit presentment in the hands of the executioner, who binds it upon a wheel and sets it revolving over a burning brazier before the eyes of the spectators. When St. Paul was decapitated, it was requisite that his head, as it fell to the ground, should leap three times, and that at each bound, in accordance with the tradition, a fountain should gush forth. When they represented the crucifixion of our Lord, and the despair of Judas, it was necessary that the Saviour of the world should be seen nailed to the cross for the s.p.a.ce of three hours, and that the traitor be hung miserably from a tree. On the performance of the "Mystery of the Pa.s.sion" before the people of Lorraine in 1437, G.o.d, according to a chronicler of the time, was impersonated by "Sir Nicole don Neuf-Chastel, who was cure of St.

Victor at Metz, and would have nearly died on the cross, had he not been succored; and another priest had to be put in his place to perfect the representation of the crucifixion. The next day the said cure, after having reposed, played the resurrection and bore his part superbly. Another priest, who was called Messire Jehan de Nicey, and who was chaplain of Metrange, acted Judas, and was almost killed by hanging, for his heart failed him, and he was right speedily cut down."

The taste of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries for these materialistic representations was such that for the scenic features of the longer mysteries they contented themselves sometimes with a simple pantomime. Indeed, on September 8, 1424, at the solemn entry of the Duke of Bedford, the English Regent of France, the children of Paris, to adopt the expression of Sauval, played the Mystery of the Old and New Testament without {590} speech or sign, as if they had been images carved on a frieze.

The infancy of art, which appeared everywhere at this epoch in the representation of the "Mysteries," was especially visible in their style and in their composition. A rapid examination of its literary faults will suffice to show that the French drama of the middle ages, progressive, if not as regards its truthfulness, at least in the pomp of its spectacle, was in rapid decline in respect to poetry.

The first and gravest literary fault of this drama in its decadence--that which includes all the others--is the absence of all that makes the soul and life of the drama--of everything which distinguishes it most essentially from history. There is neither plot, nor peripetia, nor characters, nor pa.s.sions. In the thirteenth century, Ruteboeuf, in the Miracle of Theophilus, bestows on his hero a pa.s.sionate nature, and develops the action not by events in their ordinary sequence, but by the stormy struggles of the heart and the agitations of conscience. One princ.i.p.al personage is put upon the stage, and a single incident carries the play rapidly forward to a unique denouement. Jean Bodel, in the "Play of St. Nicholas," less skilled than his contemporaries in making his intrigue keep step to the movements of pa.s.sion, consoled himself with laying violent hands on the legend, to which he gives an entirely new form. In the fourteenth century we find no longer, it is true, in the anonymous authors of the "Miracles of Notre Dame" either that creating power, or those pa.s.sionate intrigues, or that simple and rapid movement, but at least we meet with some true pathos in certain scenes, and in a great number of monologues there are p.r.o.nounced and well-sustained characters in the female parts, especially while the dramatic interest concentrates on one person. Open the two most celebrated works of the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries--the "Mystery of the Pa.s.sion" of the two Jehan Michels, and the "Triumphant Mystery of the Acts of the Apostles" of the brothers Greban--there is nothing more than a pure and simple _mise en scene_ of history or of legend, unrolling itself slowly as the events arrive in their chronological order. There is no unity either of time or of place, as in the past; nor is there unity of action. Personal interest has ceased; the pa.s.sions have ceased; vigorous characterizations have ceased. Everybody speaks frigidly from one end of the piece to the other, and for forty days, and one can scarcely find throughout the plays a terse or impa.s.sioned line. There is no progression in the movement; no advance in intrigue; no fresh complication; the tiresome dramatist jogs along without troubling himself about denouement.

This drama, which has no longer a dramatic art save in its dialogue and its spectacle--is it then absolutely without poetry? Some critics seem to have thought so, since they dwelt only on its absurdities and its literary poverty. And it must be avowed that puerility, triviality, indecency even, so dominate there, that it is easy, when approaching it, to give one's self over to a universal disgust.