LITURGICAL PLAYS
[_Bibliographical Note._—The liturgical drama is fully treated
by W. Creizenach, _Geschichte des neueren Dramas_ (vol. i,
1893), Bk. 2; L. Petit de Julleville, _Les Mystères_ (1880),
vol. i. ch. 2; A. d’Ancona, _Origini del Teatro Italiano_ (2nd
ed. 1891), Bk. 1, chh. 3-6; M. Sepet, _Origines catholiques
du Théâtre moderne_ (1901), and by L. Gautier in _Le Monde_
for Aug. and Sept. 1872. The studies of W. Meyer, _Fragmenta
Burana_ (1901), and C. Davidson, _English Mystery Plays_
(1892), are also valuable. A. W. Ward, _History of English
Dramatic Literature_ (2nd ed. 1899), vol. i. ch. 1 deals
very slightly with the subject. A good popular account is
M. Sepet, _Le Drame chrétien au Moyen Âge_ (1878). Of older
works, the introduction to E. Du Méril’s _Origines latines du
Théâtre moderne_ (1849, facsimile reprint, 1896) is the best.
The material collected for vol. ii of C. Magnin’s _Origines
du Théâtre_ is only available in the form of reviews in the
_Journal des Savants_ (1846-7), and lecture notes in the
_Journal général de l’Instruction publique_ (1834-6). Articles
by F. Clément, L. Deschamps de Pas, A. de la Fons-Melicocq, and
others in A. N. Didron’s _Annales archéologiques_ (1844-72)
are worth consulting; those of F. Clément are reproduced in
his _Histoire de la Musique religieuse_ (1860). There are also
some notices in J. de Douhet, _Dictionnaire des Mystères_
(1854).—The texts of the _Quem quaeritis_ are to be studied
in G. Milchsack, _Die Oster- und Passionsspiele_, vol. i (all
published, 1880), and C. Lange, _Die lateinischen Osterfeiern_
(1887). The former compares 28, the latter no less than 224
manuscripts. The best general collection of texts is that
of Du Méril already named: others are T. Wright, _Early
Mysteries and other Latin Poems_ (1838); E. de Coussemaker,
_Drames liturgiques du Moyen Âge_ (1860), which is valuable
as giving the music as well as the words; and A. Gasté, _Les
Drames liturgiques de la Cathédrale de Rouen_ (1893). A few,
including the important _Antichristus_, are given by R.
Froning, _Das Drama des Mittelalters_ (1891). The original
sources are in most cases the ordinary service-books. But
a twelfth-century manuscript from St. Martial of Limoges
(_Bibl. Nat. Lat._ 1139) has four plays, a _Quem quaeritis_,
a _Rachel_, a _Prophetae_, and the _Sponsus_. Facsimiles
are in E. de Coussemaker, _Histoire de l’Harmonie au Moyen
Âge_ (1852). A thirteenth-century manuscript from Fleury
(_Orleans MS._ 178) has no less than ten, a _Quem quaeritis_,
a _Peregrini_, a _Stella_ in two parts, a _Conversio Pauli_,
a _Suscitatio Lazari_ and four _Miracula S. Nicholai_. Two
later plays and fragments of three others are found in the
famous thirteenth-century manuscript from Benedictbeuern
(_Munich MS._ 19,486, printed in J. A. Schmeller, _Carmina
Burana_, 3rd ed. 1894, with additional fragments in W. Meyer,
_Fragmenta Burana_, 1901). This is probably the repertory of
travelling goliardic clerks. The twelfth-century manuscript
which preserves the three plays of Hilarius (_Bibl. Nat. Lat._
11,331, printed in J. J. Champollion-Figeac, _Hilarii Versus et
Ludi_, 1838) is of a similar character.—The tropes are fully
dealt with by L. Gautier, _Hist. de la Poésie liturgique au
Moyen Âge_, vol. i (all published, 1886), and W. H. Frere,
_The Winchester Troper_ (1894). I have not been able to see
A. Reiners, _Die Tropen-, Prosen- und Präfations-Gesänge des
feierlichen Hochamtes im Mittelalter_ (1884). Antiquarian data
are collected by H. J. Feasey, _Ancient English Holy Week
Ceremonial_ (1897), and A. Heales, _Easter Sepulchres_, in
_Archaeologia_, vol. xlii. I have printed an important passage
from the _Regularis Concordia_ of St. Ethelwold (965-75) in
Appendix O. The _Planctus Mariae_ are treated by A. Schönbach,
_Die Marienklagen_ (1874), and E. Wechssler, _Die romanischen
Marienklagen_ (1893). W. Köppen, _Beiträge zur Geschichte
der deutschen Weihnachtsspiele_ (1893), and M. Sepet, _Les
Prophètes du Christ_ (1878), contain valuable studies of the
evolution of the _Stella_ and the _Prophetae_ respectively.
The relation of dramatic to iconic art in the Middle Ages
is brought out by P. Weber, _Geistliches Schauspiel und
kirchliche Kunst_ (1894). A rather primitive bibliography is
F. H. Stoddard, _References for Students of Miracle Plays and
Mysteries_ (1887).—Authorities for English facts given without
references in the present volume will be found in Appendices W
and X.]
The discussions of the first volume have often wandered far enough from
the history of the stage. But two or three tolerable generalizations
emerge. The drama as a living form of art went completely under at the
break-up of the Roman world: a process of natural decay was accelerated
by the hostility of Christianity, which denied the theatre, and by the
indifference of barbarism, which had never imagined it. If anything of a
histrionic tradition survived, it took the shape of pitiable farce, one
amongst many heterogeneous elements in the _spectacula_ of disreputable
mimes. For the men of the Middle Ages, however, peasants or burghers,
monks or nobles, such _spectacula_ had a constant attraction: and the
persistence of the deep-rooted mimetic instinct in the folk is proved
by the frequent outcrops of primitive drama in the course of those
popular observances which are the last sportive stage of ancient heathen
ritual. Whether of folk or of minstrel origin, the _ludi_ remained to
the last alien and distasteful to the Church. The degradation of Rome
and Constantinople by the stage was never forgotten; nor the association
with an heathenism that was glossed over rather than extinct: and though
a working compromise inevitably tended to establish itself, it remained
subject to perpetual protest from the austerer spirit in the counsels of
the clergy.
It is the more remarkable that the present volume has to describe a most
singular new birth of the drama in the very bosom of the Church’s own
ritual. One may look at the event as one will, either as an audacious,
and at least partly successful, attempt to wrest the pomps of the devil
to a spiritual service, or as an inevitable and ironical recoil of a
barred human instinct within the hearts of its gaolers themselves. From
either point of view it is a fact which the student of European culture
cannot afford to neglect. And apart from its sociological implications,
apart from the insight which it gives into the temper of the folk and
into the appeal of religion, it is of the highest interest as an object
lesson in literary evolution. The historian is not often privileged to
isolate a definite literary form throughout the whole course of its
development, and to trace its rudimentary beginnings, as may here be
done, beyond the very borders of articulate speech.
The dramatic tendencies of Christian worship declared themselves at
an early period[1]. At least from the fourth century, the central and
most solemn rite of that worship was the Mass, an essentially dramatic
commemoration of one of the most critical moments in the life of the
Founder[2]. It is his very acts and words that day by day throughout
the year the officiating priest resumes in the face of the people.
And when the conception of the Mass developed until instead of a mere
symbolical commemoration it was looked upon as an actual repetition of
the initial sacrifice, the dramatic character was only intensified. So
far as the Canon of the Mass goes, this point needs no pressing. But the
same liturgical principle governs many other episodes in the order of the
mediaeval services. Take, for example, the ritual, of Gallican origin,
used at the dedication of a church[3]. The bishop and his procession
approach the closed doors of the church from without, but one of the
clergy, _quasi latens_, is placed inside. Three blows with a staff are
given on the doors, and the anthem is raised _Tollite portas, principes,
vestras et elevamini, portae aeternales, et introibit Rex gloriae_. From
within comes the question _Quis est iste rex gloriae?_ and the reply is
given _Dominus virtutum ipse est Rex gloriae_. Then the doors are opened,
and as the procession sweeps through, he who was concealed within slips
out, _quasi fugiens_, to join the train. It is a dramatic expulsion of
the spirit of evil. A number of other instances are furnished by the
elaborate rites of Holy week. Thus on Palm Sunday, in commemoration of
the entry into Jerusalem, the usual procession before Mass was extended,
and went outside the church and round the churchyard or close bearing
palms, or in their place sprigs of yew, box, or withies, which the priest
had previously blessed[4]. The introduction of a _Palmesel_ might make
the ceremony more dramatic still[5]. Some of the texts used were of a
prophetic character, and the singer of these was occasionally dressed
as a prophet[6]. At the doors of the church the procession was greeted
by boys stationed upon the roof of the porch, and certain French uses
transferred to the occasion the dedication solemnity of _Tollite portas_
just described[7]. The reading of the gospel narratives of the Passion,
which on Palm Sunday, on the Monday or Tuesday, and the Wednesday in Holy
week and on Good Friday preceded the Gospel proper, was often resolved
into a regular oratorio. A tenor voice rendered the narrative of the
evangelist, a treble the sayings of Jews and disciples, a bass those
of Christ himself[8]. To particular episodes of these Passions special
dramatic action was appropriated. On Wednesday, at the words _Velum
templi scissum est_, the Lenten veil, which since the first Sunday in
Lent had hidden the sanctuary from the sight of the people, was dropped
to the ground[9]. On Good Friday the words _Partiti sunt vestimenta_
were a signal for a similar bit of by-play with a linen cloth which lay
upon the altar[10]: Maundy Thursday had its commemorative ceremony of the
washing of feet[11]; while the _Tenebrae_ or solemn extinction, one after
another, of lights at the Matins of the last three days of the week, was
held to symbolize the grief of the apostles and others whom those lights
represented[12].
These, and many other fragments of ceremonial, have the potentiality
of dramatic development. Symbolism, mimetic action, are there. The
other important factor, of dialogued speech, is latent in the practice
of antiphonal singing. The characteristic type of Roman chant is that
whereby the two halves of the choir answer one another, or the whole
choir answers the single voice of the _cantor_, in alternate versicle and
respond[13]. The antiphon was introduced into Italy by St. Ambrose of
Milan. It had originated, according to tradition, in Antioch, had been in
some relation to the histrionic tendencies of Arianism, and was possibly
not altogether uninfluenced by the traditions both of the Greek tragic
chorus and of Jewish psalmody[14]. At any rate, it lent itself naturally
to dialogue, and it is from the antiphon that the actual evolution of
the liturgical drama starts. The course of that evolution must now be
followed.
The choral portions of the Mass were stereotyped about the end of the
sixth century in the _Antiphonarium_ ascribed to Gregory the Great[15].
This compilation, which included a variety of antiphons arranged for the
different feasts and seasons of the year, answered the needs of worship
for some two hundred years. With the ninth century, however, began a
process, which culminated in the eleventh, of liturgical elaboration.
Splendid churches, costly vestments, protracted offices, magnificent
processions, answered especially in the great monasteries to a heightened
sense of the significance of cult in general, and of the Eucharist
in particular[16]. Naturally ecclesiastical music did not escape the
influence of this movement. The traditional _Antiphonarium_ seemed
inadequate to the capacities of aspiring choirs. The Gregorian texts were
not replaced, but they were supplemented. New melodies were inserted
at the beginning or end or even in the middle of the old antiphons.
And now I come to the justification of the statement made two or three
pages back, that the beginnings of the liturgical drama lie beyond the
very borders of articulate speech. For the earliest of such adventitious
melodies were sung not to words at all, but to vowel sounds alone. These,
for which precedent existed in the Gregorian _Antiphonarium_, are known
as _neumae_[17]. Obviously the next stage was to write texts, called
generically ‘tropes,’ to them; and towards the end of the ninth century
three more or less independent schools of trope-writers grew up. One,
in northern France, produced Adam of St. Victor; of another, at the
Benedictine abbey of St. Gall near Constance, Notker and Tutilo are the
greatest names; the third, in northern Italy, has hitherto been little
studied. The _Troparia_ or collections of tropes form choir-books,
supplementary to the _Antiphonaria_. After the thirteenth century, when
trope-writing fell into comparative desuetude, they become rare; and
such tropes as were retained find a place in the ordinary service-books,
especially the later successor of the _Antiphonarium_, the _Graduale_.
The tropes attached themselves in varying degrees to most of the choral
portions of the Mass. Perhaps those of the _Alleluia_ at the end of
the _Graduale_ are in themselves the most important. They received the
specific names, in Germany of _Sequentiae_, and in France of _Prosae_,
and they include, in their later metrical stages, some of the most
remarkable of mediaeval hymns. But more interesting from our particular
point of view are the tropes of the _Officium_ or _Introit_, the antiphon
and psalm sung by the choir at the beginning of Mass, as the celebrant
approaches the altar[18].
Several _Introit_ tropes take a dialogue form. The following is a
ninth-century Christmas example ascribed to Tutilo of St. Gall[19].
‘Hodie cantandus est nobis puer, quem gignebat ineffabiliter
ante tempora pater, et eundem sub tempore generavit inclyta
mater.
_Int[errogatio]._
quis est iste puer quem tam magnis praeconiis dignum
vociferatis? dicite nobis ut collaudatores esse possimus.
_Resp[onsio]._
hic enim est quem praesagus et electus symmista dei ad terram
venturum praeuidens longe ante praenotavit, sicque praedixit.’
The nature of this trope is obvious. It was sung by two groups of voices,
and its closing words directly introduce the _Introit_ for the third
mass (_Magna missa_) on Christmas day, which must have followed without
a break[20]. It is an example of some half a dozen dialogued _Introit_
tropes, which might have, but did not, become the starting-point for
further dramatic evolution[21]. Much more significant is another trope of
unknown authorship found in the same St. Gall manuscript[22]. This is for
Easter, and is briefly known as the _Quem quaeritis_. The text, unlike
that of the _Hodie cantandus_, is based closely upon the Gospels. It is
an adaptation to the form of dialogue of the interview between the three
Maries and the angel at the tomb as told by Saints Matthew and Mark[23].
‘Quem quaeritis in sepulchro, [o] Christicolae?
Iesum Nazarenum crucifixum, o caelicolae.
non est hic, surrexit sicut praedixerat.
ite, nuntiate quia surrexit de sepulchro.
_Resurrexi_[24].’
This is the earliest and simplest form of the _Quem quaeritis_. It
recurs, almost unaltered, in a tenth-century troper from St. Martial
of Limoges[25]. In eleventh-century tropers of the same church it is a
little more elaborate[26].
‘TROPUS IN DIE.
Quem quaeritis in sepulchro, Christicolae?
Ihesum Nazarenum crucifixum, o caelicole.
non est hic, surrexit sicut praedixerat,
ite, nuntiate quia surrexit. Alleluia.
ad sepulchrum residens angelus nuntiat resurrexisse Christum:
en ecce completum est illud quod olim ipse per prophetam dixerat ad
patrem taliter inquiens,
_Resurrexi_.’
Here the appended portion of narrative makes the trope slightly less
dramatic. Yet another addition is made in one of the Limoges manuscripts.
Just as the trope introduces the _Introit_, so it is itself introduced by
the following words:
‘Hora est, psallite. iube, dompnus, canere.
eia, eia, dicite.’
As M. Gautier puts it, the trope is troped[27].
In the Easter _Quem quaeritis_ the liturgical drama was born, and to it
I shall return. But it must first be noted that it was so popular as to
become the model for two very similar tropes belonging to Christmas and
to the Ascension. Both of these are found in more than one troper, but
not earlier, I believe, than the eleventh century. I quote the Christmas
trope from a St. Gall manuscript[28].
‘_In Natale Domini ad Missam sint parati duo diaconi induti
dalmaticis, retro altare dicentes_
Quem quaeritis in praesepe, pastores, dicite?
_Respondeant duo cantores in choro_
salvatorem Christum Dominum, infantem pannis involutum,
secundum sermonem angelicum.
_Item diaconi_
adest hic parvulus cum Maria, matre sua, de qua, vaticinando,
Isaias Propheta: ecce virgo concipiet et pariet filium. et
nuntiantes dicite quia natus est.
_Tunc cantor dicat excelsa voce_
alleluia, alleluia, iam vere scimus Christum natum in terris,
de quo canite, omnes, cum Propheta dicentes:
_Puer natus est_.’
The Ascension trope is taken from an English troper probably belonging to
Christ Church, Canterbury[29].
‘Quem cernitis ascendisse super astra, o Christicolae?
Ihesum qui surrexit de sepulchro, o caelicolae.
iam ascendit, ut praedixit, ascendo ad patrem meum et patrem
vestrum, deum meum et deum vestrum.
alleluia:
regna terrae, gentes, linguae, conlaudate dominum:
quem adorant caeli cives in paterno solio:
deo gratias dicite eia.’
I return now to the Easter _Quem quaeritis_. In a few churches this
retained its position at the beginning of Mass, either as an _Introit_
trope in the strict sense, or, which comes to much the same thing, as a
chant for the procession which immediately preceded. This was the use of
the Benedictine abbey of Monte Cassino at the beginning of the twelfth
century, of that of St. Denys in the thirteenth[30], and of the church
of St. Martin of Tours in the fifteenth[31]. Even in the seventeenth
century the _Quem quaeritis_ still appears in a Paris manuscript as a
‘_tropus_[32],’ and Martene records a practice similar to that of Monte
Cassino and St. Denys as surviving at Rheims in his day[33].
But in many tropers, and in most of the later service-books in which it
is found, the _Quem quaeritis_ no longer appears to be designed for use
at the Mass. This is the case in the only two tropers of English use in
which, so far as I know, it comes, the Winchester ones printed by Mr.
Frere[34]. I reproduce the earlier of these from the Bodleian manuscript
used by him[35].
‘ANGELICA DE CHRISTI RESURRECTIONE.
Quem quaeritis in sepulchro, Christicolae?
_Sanctarum mulierum responsio._
Ihesum Nazarenum crucifixum, o caelicola!
_Angelicae voces consolatus._
non est hic, surrexit sicut praedixerat,
ite, nuntiate quia surrexit, dicentes:
_Sanctarum mulierum ad omnem clerum modulatio_:
alleluia! resurrexit Dominus hodie,
leo fortis, Christus filius Dei! Deo gratias dicite, eia!
_Dicat angelus_:
venite et videte locum ubi positus erat Dominus, alleluia! alleluia!
_Iterum dicat angelus_:
cito euntes dicite discipulis quia surrexit Dominus, alleluia!
alleluia!
_Mulieri una voce canant iubilantes_:
surrexit Dominus de sepulchro,
qui pro nobis pependit in ligno.’
In this manuscript, which is dated by Mr. Frere in 979 or 980, the text
just quoted is altogether detached from the Easter day tropes. Its
heading is rubricated and immediately follows the tropes for Palm Sunday.
It is followed in its turn, under a fresh rubric, by the ceremonies for
Holy Saturday, beginning with the _Benedictio Cerei_. From the second,
somewhat later Cambridge manuscript, probably of the early eleventh
century, the Holy Saturday ceremonies have disappeared, but the _Quem
quaeritis_ still precedes and does not follow the regular Easter tropes,
which are headed _Tropi in die Christi Resurrectionis_[36]. The precise
position which the _Quem quaeritis_ was intended to take in the Easter
services is not evident from these tropers by themselves. Fortunately
another document comes to our assistance. This is the _Concordia
Regularis_, an appendix to the _Rule_ of St. Benedict intended for the
use of the Benedictine monasteries in England reformed by Dunstan during
the tenth century. The _Concordia Regularis_ was drawn up by Ethelwold,
bishop of Winchester, as a result of a council of Winchester held at some
uncertain date during the reign of Edgar (959-79); it may fairly be taken
for granted that it fixed at least the Winchester custom. I translate the
account of the _Quem quaeritis_ ceremony, which is described as forming
part, not of the Mass, but of the third Nocturn at Matins on Easter
morning[37].
‘While the third lesson is being chanted, let four brethren
vest themselves. Let one of these, vested in an alb, enter as
though to take part in the service, and let him approach the
sepulchre without attracting attention and sit there quietly
with a palm in his hand. While the third respond is chanted,
let the remaining three follow, and let them all, vested in
copes, bearing in their hands thuribles with incense, and
stepping delicately as those who seek something, approach the
sepulchre. These things are done in imitation of the angel
sitting in the monument, and the women with spices coming to
anoint the body of Jesus. When therefore he who sits there
beholds the three approach him like folk lost and seeking
something, let him begin in a dulcet voice of medium pitch to
sing _Quem quaeritis_. And when he has sung it to the end, let
the three reply in unison _Ihesu Nazarenum_. So he, _Non est
hic, surrexit sicut praedixerat. Ite, nuntiate quia surrexit a
mortuis._ At the word of this bidding let those three turn to
the choir and say _Alleluia! resurrexit Dominus!_ This said,
let the one, still sitting there and as if recalling them, say
the anthem _Venite et videte locum_. And saying this, let him
rise, and lift the veil, and show them the place bare of the
cross, but only the cloths laid there in which the cross was
wrapped. And when they have seen this, let them set down the
thuribles which they bare in that same sepulchre, and take
the cloth, and hold it up in the face of the clergy, and as
if to demonstrate that the Lord has risen and is no longer
wrapped therein, let them sing the anthem _Surrexit Dominus
de sepulchro_, and lay the cloth upon the altar. When the
anthem is done, let the prior, sharing in their gladness at the
triumph of our King, in that, having vanquished death, He rose
again, begin the hymn _Te Deum laudamus_. And this begun, all
the bells chime out together.’
The liberal _scenario_ of the _Concordia Regularis_ makes plain the
change which has come about in the character of the _Quem quaeritis_
since it was first sung by alternating half-choirs as an _Introit_
trope[38]. Dialogued chant and mimetic action have come together and the
first liturgical drama is, in all its essentials, complete.
I am not quite satisfied as to the relations of date between the
_Concordia Regularis_ and the Winchester tropers, or as to whether the
_Quem quaeritis_ was intended in one or both of these manuscripts for
use at the Easter Matins[39]. But it is clear that such a use was known
in England at any rate before the end of the tenth century. It was also
known in France and in Germany: the former fact is testified to by the
_Consuetudines_ of the monastery of St. Vito of Verdun[40]; the latter
by the occurrence of the _Quem quaeritis_ in a troper of Bamberg, where
it has the heading _Ad visitandum sepulchrum_ and is followed by the
Matins chant of _Te Deum_[41].
The heading of the Bamberg version and the detailed description of
the _Concordia Regularis_ bring the _Quem quaeritis_ drama into close
relations with the Easter ‘sepulchre’[42]. They are indeed the first
historical notices of the ceremony so widely popular during the Middle
Ages. Some account of the Easter sepulchre must accordingly be inserted
here, and its basis shall be the admirably full description of St.
Ethelwold[43]. He directs that on Good Friday all the monks shall go
_discalceati_ or shoeless from Prime ‘until the cross is adored’[44].
In the principal service of the day, which begins at Nones, the reading
of the Passion according to St. John and a long series of prayers are
included. Then a cross is made ready and laid upon a cushion a little
way in front of the altar. It is unveiled, and the anthem _Ecce lignum
crucis_ is sung. The abbot advances, prostrates himself, and chants the
seven penitential psalms. Then he humbly kisses the cross. His example is
followed by the rest of the monks and by the clergy and congregation. St.
Ethelwold proceeds:—
‘Since on this day we celebrate the laying down of the body
of our Saviour, if it seem good or pleasing to any to follow
on similar lines the use of certain of the religious, which
is worthy of imitation for the strengthening of faith in the
unlearned vulgar and in neophytes, we have ordered it on this
wise. Let a likeness of a sepulchre be made in a vacant part of
the altar, and a veil stretched on a ring which may hang there
until the adoration of the cross is over. Let the deacons who
previously carried the cross come and wrap it in a cloth in
the place where it was adored[45]. Then let them carry it back,
singing anthems, until they come to the place of the monument,
and there having laid down the cross as if it were the buried
body of our Lord Jesus Christ, let them say an anthem. And here
let the holy cross be guarded with all reverence until the
night of the Lord’s resurrection. By night let two brothers or
three, or more if the throng be sufficient, be appointed who
may keep faithful wake there chanting psalms.’
The ceremony of the burial or _Depositio Crucis_ is followed by the
_Missa Praesanctificatorum_, the Good Friday communion with a host not
consecrated that day but specially reserved from Maundy Thursday; and
there is no further reference to the sepulchre until the order for Easter
day itself is reached, when St. Ethelwold directs that ‘before the bells
are rung for Matins the sacristans are to take the cross and set it in a
fitting place.’
In the _Concordia Regularis_, then, the _Depositio Crucis_ is a sequel
to the _Adoratio Crucis_ on Good Friday. The latter ceremony, known
familiarly to the sixteenth century as ‘creeping to the cross,’ was one
of great antiquity. It was amongst the Holy week rites practised at
Jerusalem in the fourth century[46], and was at an early date adopted
in Rome[47]. But the sepulchre was no primitive part of it[48]; nor is
it possible to trace either the use which served St. Ethelwold as a
model[49], or the home or date of the sepulchre itself. It is unlikely,
however, that the latter originated in England, as it appears almost
simultaneously on the continent, and English ritual, in the tenth
century, was markedly behind and not in advance of that of France and
Germany[50]. St. Ethelwold speaks of it as distinctively monastic but
certainly not as universal or of obligation amongst the Benedictine
communities for whom he wrote. Nor did the _Concordia Regularis_ lead
to its invariable adoption, for when Ælfric adapted St. Ethelwold’s
work for the benefit of Eynsham about 1005 he omitted the account of
the sepulchre[51], and it is not mentioned in Archbishop Lanfranc’s
Benedictine _Constitutions_ of 1075[52]. At a later date it was used by
many Benedictine houses, notably by the great Durham Priory[53]; but the
Cistercians and the Carthusians, who represent two of the most famous
reforms of the order, are said never to have adopted it, considering it
incompatible with the austerity of their rule[54]. On the other hand it
was certainly not, in mediaeval England, confined to monastic churches.
The cathedrals of Salisbury[55], York[56], Lincoln[57], Hereford[58],
Wells[59], all of which were served by secular canons, had their
sepulchres, and the gradual spread of the Sarum use probably brought a
sepulchre into the majority of parish churches throughout the land[60].
There are naturally variations and amplifications of the sepulchre
ceremonial as described by St. Ethelwold to be recorded. The _Depositio
Crucis_, instead of preceding the _Missa Praesanctificatorum_, was often,
as in the Sarum use, transferred to the end of Vespers, which on Good
Friday followed the _Missa_ without a break[61]. The _Elevatio_ regularly
took place early on Easter morning before Matins. The oldest custom was
doubtless that of the _Regularis Concordia_, according to which the cross
was removed from the sepulchre secretly by the sacristans, since this
is most closely in agreement with the narrative of the gospels. But in
time the _Elevatio_ became a function. The books of Salisbury and York
provide for it a procession with the antiphons _Christus resurgens_ and
_Surrexit Dominus_. Continental rituals show considerable diversity of
custom[62]. Perhaps the most elaborate ceremonials are those of Augsburg
and Würzburg, printed by Milchsack. In these the _Tollite portas_
procession, which we have already found borrowed from the dedication of
churches for Palm Sunday, was adapted to Easter day[63]. But the old
tradition was often preserved by the exclusion or only partial admission
of the populace to the _Elevatio_. In the Augsburg ritual just quoted,
all but a few privileged persons are kept out until the devil has been
expelled and the doors solemnly opened[64]. A curious light is thrown
upon this by a decree of the synod of Worms in 1316, which orders that
the ‘mystery of the resurrection’ shall be performed before the _plebs_
comes into the church, and gives as a reason the crowds caused by a
prevalent superstition that whoever saw the crucifix raised would escape
for that year ‘the inevitable hour of death’[65].
A widespread if not quite universal innovation on the earlier use was
the burial, together with the cross or crucifix, of a host, which was
consecrated, like that used in the _Missa Praesanctificatorum_, on Maundy
Thursday. This host was laid in a pyx[66], monstrance[67], or cup[68],
and sometimes in a special image, representing the risen Christ with
the cross or _labarum_ in his hands, the breast of which held a cavity
covered with beryl or crystal[69]. Within the sepulchre both the host and
the crucifix were laid upon or wrapped in a fine linen napkin.
The actual structure of the sepulchre lent itself to considerable
variety. St. Ethelwold’s _assimilatio quaedam sepulchri_ upon a vacant
part of the altar may have been formed, like that at Narbonne several
centuries later, by laying together some of the silver service-books[70].
There are other examples of a sepulchre at an altar, and it is possible
that in some of these the altar itself may have been hollow and have
held the sacred deposit. Sometimes the high altar was used, but a
side-altar was naturally more convenient, and at St. Lawrence’s, Reading,
the ‘sepulchre awlter’ was in the rood-loft[71]. The books were a
primitive expedient. More often the sepulchre was an elaborate carved
shrine of wood, iron, or silver. If this did not stand upon the altar,
it was placed on the north side of the sanctuary or in a north choir
aisle. In large churches the crypt was sometimes thought an appropriate
site[72]. Often the base of the sepulchre was formed by the tomb of a
founder or benefactor of the church, and legacies for making a structure
to serve this double purpose are not uncommon in mediaeval wills. Such
tombs often have a canopied recess above them, and in these cases the
portable shrine may have been dispensed with. Many churches have a niche
or recess, designed of sole purpose for the sepulchre[73]. Several of
these more elaborate sepulchres are large enough to be entered, a very
convenient arrangement for the _Quem quaeritis_[74]; a few of them are
regular chapels, more than one of which is an exact reproduction of the
Holy Sepulchre at Jerusalem, and is probably due to the piety of some
local pilgrim[75]. Wood, metal, or stone, permanent or movable, the
sepulchre was richly adorned with paintings and carvings of the Passion
and the Resurrection, with Easter texts, with figures of censer-swinging
angels and sleeping knights[76]. A seal was, at least at Hereford and
in Hungary, set upon it[77]. A canopy was hung over it and upon it lay
a pall, also a favourite object for a pious legacy. Similar legacies
might meet the expense of the ‘sepulchre light,’ which was kept burning
from Good Friday to Easter morning, and was only extinguished for a few
minutes on Easter Saturday to be re-lit from the freshly blessed ‘new
fire[78].’ Or the light might be provided by one of the innumerable
guilds of the Middle Ages, whose members, perhaps, also undertook the
devout duty of keeping the two nights’ vigil before the sepulchre[79].
This watch was important. The Augsburg ritual already quoted makes the
possibility of arranging it a condition of setting up the sepulchre
at all[80]. The watchers sang psalms, and it is an example of the
irrepressible mediaeval tendency to _mimesis_ that they were sometimes
accoutred like the knights of Pilate[81]. After the _Elevatio_, the
crucifix seems to have been placed upon a side-altar and visited by
processions in Easter, while the host was reserved in a tabernacle. The
Sarum _Custumary_ directs that the empty sepulchre shall be daily censed
at Vespers and removed on the Friday in Easter week before Mass[82].
Naturally there was some division of opinion at the Reformation as to
the precise spiritual value of the Easter sepulchre. While Bishop Hooper
and his fellow pulpiters were outspoken about the idolatrous cult of a
‘dead post[83],’ the more conservative views which ruled in the latter
years of Henry VIII declared the ceremony to be ‘very laudable’ and
‘not to be contemned and cast away[84].’ The Cromwellian _Injunctions_
of 1538 sanctioned the continued use of the sepulchre light, and by
implication of the sepulchre itself. The Edwardine _Injunctions_ of
1547 suppressed the sepulchre light and were certainly interpreted by
Cranmer and others as suppressing the sepulchre[85]. The closely related
‘creeping to the cross’ was forbidden by proclamation in 1548; and in
1549, after the issue of the first Act of Uniformity and the first Prayer
Book of Edward VI, the disallowance of both ceremonies was legalized,
or renewed by _Articles_ for the visitation of that year[86]. Payments
for the breaking up of the sepulchre now appear in many churchwardens’
accounts, to be complicated before long by payments for setting the
sepulchre up again, in consequence of an order by Queen Mary in 1554[87].
In the same year the crucifix and pyx were missing out of the sepulchre
at St. Pancras’ Church in Cheapside, when the priests came for the
_Elevatio_ on Easter morning, and one Marsh was committed to the Counter
for the sacrilege[88]. The Elizabethan _Injunctions_ of 1559, although
they do not specifically name the sepulchre, doubtless led to its final
disappearance[89]. In many parts of the continent it naturally lasted
longer, but the term ‘visiting sepulchres’ seems in modern times to have
been transferred to the devotion paid to the reserved host on Maundy
Thursday[90].
I now return to the _Quem quaeritis_ in the second stage of its
evolution, when it had ceased to be an _Introit_ trope and had become
attached to the ceremony of the sepulchre. Obviously it is not an
essential part of that ceremony. The _Depositio_ and _Elevatio_ mutually
presuppose each other and, together, are complete. For the dramatic
performance, as described by St. Ethelwold, the clergy, having removed
the cross at the beginning of Matins, revisited the empty sepulchre quite
at the close of that service, after the third respond[91], between which
and the normal ending of Matins, the _Te Deum_, the _Quem quaeritis_ was
intercalated. The fact that the Maries bear censers instead of or in
addition to the scriptural spices, suggests that this _Visitatio_ grew
out of a custom of censing the sepulchre at the end of Matins as well as
of Evensong[92]. But the _Visitatio_ could easily be omitted, and in fact
it was omitted in many churches where the _Depositio_ and _Elevatio_ were
in use. The Sarum books, for instance, do not in any way prescribe it.
On the other hand, there were probably a few churches which adopted the
_Visitatio_ without the more important rite. Bamberg seems to have been
one of these, and so possibly were Sens, Senlis, and one or two others
in which the _Quem quaeritis_ is noted as taking place at an altar[93].
However, whether there was a real sepulchre or not, the regular place
of the _Quem quaeritis_ was that prescribed for it by St. Ethelwold,
between the third respond and the _Te Deum_ at Matins. It has been found
in a very large number of manuscripts, and in by far the greater part
of them it occupies this position[94]. In the rest, with the exception
of a completely anomalous example from Vienne[95], it is either a
trope[96], or else is merged with or immediately follows the _Elevatio_
before Matins[97]. The evidence of the texts themselves is borne out by
Durandus, who is aware of the variety of custom, and indicates the end of
Matins as the _proprior locus_[98].
No less difficult to determine than the place and time at which the
Easter sepulchre itself was devised, are those at which the _Quem
quaeritis_, attached to it, stood forth as a drama. That the two first
appear together can hardly be taken as evidence that they came into
being together. The predominance of German and French versions of the
_Quem quaeritis_ may suggest an origin in the Frankish area: and if
the influence of the Sarum use and the havoc of service-books at the
Reformation may between them help to account for the comparative rarity
of the play in these islands, no such explanation is available for Italy
and Spain. The development of the religious drama in the peninsulas,
especially in Italy, seems to have followed from the beginning lines
somewhat distinct from those of north-western Europe. But between France
and Germany, as between France and England, literary influences, so far
as clerkly literature goes, moved freely: nor is it possible to isolate
the centres and lines of diffusion of that gradual process of accretion
and development through which the _Quem quaeritis_ gave ever fuller and
fuller expression to the dramatic instincts by which it was prompted. The
_clerici vagantes_ were doubtless busy agents in carrying new motives
and amplifications of the text from one church to another. Nor should it
be forgotten that, numerous as are the versions preserved, those which
have perished must have been more numerous still, so that, if all were
before us, the apparent anomaly presented by the occurrence of identical
features in, for instance, the plays from Dublin and Fleury, and no
others, would not improbably be removed. The existence of this or that
version in the service-books of any one church must depend on divers
conditions; the accidents of communication in the first place, and in
the second the laxity or austerity of governing bodies at various dates
in the licensing or pruning of dramatic elaboration. The simplest texts
are often found in the latest manuscripts, and it may be that because
their simplicity gave no offence they were permitted to remain there. A
Strassburg notice suggests that the ordering of the _Quem quaeritis_ was
a matter for the discretion of each individual parish, in independence of
its diocesan use[99]; while the process of textual growth is illustrated
by a Laon _Ordinarium_, in which an earlier version has been erased and
one more elaborate substituted[100].
Disregarding, however, in the main the dates of the manuscripts, it is
easy so to classify the available versions as to mark the course of a
development which was probably complete by the middle of the twelfth and
certainly by the thirteenth century. This development affected both the
text and the dramatic interest of the play. The former is the slighter
matter and may be disposed of first[101].
The kernel of the whole thing is, of course, the old St. Gall trope,
itself a free adaptation from the text of the Vulgate, and the few
examples in which this does not occur must be regarded as quite
exceptional[102]. The earliest additions were taken from anthems, which
already had their place in the Easter services, and which in some
manuscripts of the Gregorian _Antiphonarium_ are grouped together as
suitable for insertion wherever may be desired[103]. So far the text
keeps fairly close to the words of Scripture, and even where the limits
of the antiphonary are passed, the same rule holds good. In time,
however, a freer dramatic handling partly establishes itself. Proses, and
even metrical hymns, beginning as choral introductions, gradually usurp a
place in the dialogue, and in the latest versions the metrical character
is very marked. By far the most important of these insertions is the
famous prose or sequence _Victimae paschali_, the composition of which
by the monk Wipo of St. Gall can be pretty safely dated in the second
quarter of the eleventh century[104]. It goes as follows:
‘Victimae paschali laudes immolant Christiani.
agnus redemit oves, Christus innocens patri reconciliavit peccatores.
mors et vita duello conflixere mirando, dux vitae mortuus regnat vivus.
dic nobis, Maria, quid vidisti in via?
sepulchrum Christi viventis et gloriam vidi resurgentis;
angelicos testes, sudarium et vestes.
surrexit Christus, spes mea, praecedet suos in Galilaeam.
credendum est magis soli Mariae veraci, quam Iudaeorum turbae fallaci.
scimus Christum surrexisse a mortuis vere: tu nobis, victor, rex,
miserere.’
Originally written as an _Alleluia_ trope or sequence proper, a place
which it still occupies in the reformed Tridentine liturgy[105], the
_Victimae paschali_ cannot be shown to have made its way into the _Quem
quaeritis_ until the thirteenth century[106]. But it occurs in about
a third of the extant versions, sometimes as a whole, sometimes with
the omission of the first three sentences, which obviously do not lend
themselves as well as the rest to dramatic treatment. When introduced,
these three sentences are sung either by the choir or by the Maries: the
other six fall naturally into dialogue.
The _Victimae paschali_ is an expansion of the text of the _Quem
quaeritis_, but it does not necessarily introduce any new dramatic
motive. Of such there were, from the beginning, at least two. There was
the visit of the Maries to the sepulchre and their colloquy with the
angel; and there was the subsequent announcement of the Resurrection made
by them in pursuance of the divine direction. Each has its appropriate
action: in the one case the lifting of the pall and discovery of
the empty sepulchre, in the other the display by the Maries of the
cast-off grave-clothes, represented by a _linteum_, in token of the
joyful event. It is to this second scene, if the term may be used of
anything so rudimentary, that the _Victimae paschali_ attaches itself.
The dialogue of it is between the Maries and the choir, who stand for
the whole body of disciples, or sometimes two singers, who are their
spokesmen[107]. A new scene is, however, clearly added to the play,
when these two singers not only address the Maries, but themselves pay a
visit to the sepulchre. Now they represent the apostles Peter and John.
In accordance with the gospel narrative John outstrips Peter in going
to the sepulchre, but Peter enters first: and the business of taking
up the _linteum_ and displaying it to the other disciples is naturally
transferred to them from the Maries. The apostle scene first makes its
appearance in an Augsburg text of the end of the eleventh century, or the
beginning of the twelfth[108]. It occurs in rather more than half the
total number of versions. These are mainly German, but the evidence of
Belethus is sufficient to show that it was not unknown in twelfth-century
France[109]. The addition of the apostle scene completed the evolution
of the Easter play for the majority of churches. There were, however, a
few in which the very important step was taken of introducing the person
of the risen Christ himself; and this naturally entailed yet another new
scene. Of this type there are fifteen extant versions, coming from one
Italian, four French, and four German churches[110]. The earliest is of
the twelfth century, from a Prague convent. The new scene closely follows
the Scripture narrative. Mary Magdalen remains behind the other Maries
at the sepulchre. The Christ appears; she takes him for the gardener, and
he reveals himself with the _Noli me tangere_. Mary returns with the new
wonder to the choir. This is the simplest version of the new episode. It
occurs in a play of which the text is purely liturgical, and does not
even include the _Victimae paschali_. A somewhat longer one is found in
a Fleury play, which is in other respects highly elaborate and metrical.
Here the Christ appears twice, first disguised _in similitudinem
hortolani_, afterwards _in similitudinem domini_ with the _labarum_ or
resurrection banner. The remaining versions do not depart widely from
these two types, except that at Rouen and Mont St.-Michel, the Christ
scene takes place, not at the sepulchre but at the altar, and at Cividale
in a spot described as the _ortus Christi_[111].
The formal classification, then, of the versions of the _Quem quaeritis_,
gives three types. In the first, the scenes between the Maries and the
angel, and between the Maries and the choir, are alone present; in the
second the apostle scene is added to these; the third, of which there
are only fifteen known examples, is distinguished by the presence of the
Christ scene. In any one of these types, the _Victimae paschali_ and
other proses and hymns may or may not be found[112]. And it must now
be added that it is on the presence of these that the greater or less
development of lyric feeling, as distinct from dramatic action, in the
play depends. The metrical hymns in particular, when they are not merely
choral overtures, are often of the nature of _planctus_ or laments put
in the mouths of the Maries as they approach the sepulchre or at some
other appropriate moment. These _planctus_ add greatly to the vividness
and humanity of the play, and are thus an important step in the dramatic
evolution. The use of them may be illustrated by that of the hymn _Heu!
pius pastor occiditur_ in the Dublin version found by Mr. Frere and
printed, after a different text from his, in an appendix[113]. This play
has not the Christ scene, and belongs, therefore, to the second type of
_Quem quaeritis_, but, in other respects, including the _planctus_, it
closely resembles the Fleury version described above. Another _planctus_,
found in plays of the third type from Engelberg, Nuremberg, Einsiedeln,
and Cividale, is the _Heu nobis! internas mentes_[114]; a third, the
_Heu! miserae cur contigit_, seems to have been interpolated in the _Heu!
pius pastor_ at Dublin; a fourth, the _Omnipotens pater altissime_, with
a refrain _Heu quantus est dolor noster!_ is found at places so far apart
as Narbonne and Prague[115]: and a fifth, _Heu dolor, heu quam dira
doloris angustia!_ is also in the Fleury text[116].
Another advance towards drama is made in four Prague versions of the
third type by the introduction of an episode for which there is no
Scriptural basis at all. On their way to the sepulchre, the Maries stop
and buy the necessary spices of a spice-merchant or _unguentarius_. In
three thirteenth-century texts the _unguentarius_ is merely a _persona
muta_; in one of the fourteenth he is given four lines[117]. The
_unguentarius_ was destined to become a very popular character, and to
afford much comic relief in the vernacular religious drama of Germany.
Nor can it be quite confidently said that his appearance in these
comparatively late liturgical plays is a natural development and not
merely an instance of reaction by the vernacular stage.
The scenic effect of the _Quem quaeritis_ can be to some extent gathered
from the rubrics, although these are often absent and often not very
explicit, being content with a general direction for the performers to
be arrayed _in similitudinem mulierum_ or _angelorum_ or _apostolorum_,
as the case may be. The setting was obviously simple, and few properties
or costumes beyond what the vestments and ornaments of the church could
supply were used. The Maries had their heads veiled[118], and wore
surplices, copes, chasubles, dalmatics, albs, or the like. These were
either white or coloured. At Fécamp one, presumably the Magdalen, was
in red, the other two in white[119]. The thuribles which, as already
pointed out, they carried, were sometimes replaced by boxes or vases
representing the ointment and spices[120]. Sometimes also they carried,
or had carried before them, candles. Two or three rubrics direct them to
go _pedetemptim_, as sad or searching[121]. They were generally three
in number, occasionally two, or one only. The angels, or angel, as the
case might be, sat within the sepulchre or at its door. They, too, had
vestments, generally white, and veiled or crowned heads. At Narbonne, and
probably elsewhere, they had wings[122]. They held lights, a palm, or an
ear of corn, symbolizing the Resurrection[123]. The apostles are rarely
described; the ordinary priestly robes doubtless sufficed. At Dublin,
St. John, in white, held a palm, and St. Peter, in red, the keys[124].
In the earliest Prague version of the Christ scene, the Christ seems to
be represented by one of the angels[125]. At Nuremberg the _dominica
persona_ has a crown and bare feet[126]. At Rouen he holds a cross, and
though there is a double appearance, there is no hint of any change of
costume[127]. But at Coutances and Fleury the first appearance is as
_hortulanus_, indicated perhaps by a spade, which is exchanged on the
second for the cross[128].
It must be borne in mind that the _Quem quaeritis_ remained imperfectly
detached from the liturgy, out of which it arose. The performers were
priests, or nuns, and choir-boys. The play was always chanted, not
spoken[129]. It was not even completely resolved into dialogue. In many
quite late versions narrative anthems giving the gist of each scene are
retained, and are sung either by the principal actors or by the choir,
which thus, as in the hymns or proses which occur as overtures[130],
holds a position distinct from the part which it takes as representing
the disciples[131]. Finally the whole performance ends in most cases with
the _Te Deum laudamus_, and thus becomes a constituent part of Matins,
which normally comes to a close with that hymn. The intervention of the
congregation, with its Easter hymn _Christ ist erstanden_, seems to lie
outside the main period of the evolution of the _Quem quaeritis_. I only
find one example so early as the thirteenth century[132]. It is in quite
late texts also that certain other Easter motives have become attached to
the play. The commonest of these are the whispered greeting of _Surrexit
Christus_ and the kiss of peace, which have been noted elsewhere as
preceding Matins[133]. At Eichstädt, in 1560, is an amusing direction,
which Mr. Collins would have thought very proper, that the _pax_ is to be
given to the _dominus terrae, si ibi fuerit_, before the priest. The same
manuscript shows a curious combination of the _Quem quaeritis_ with the
irrepressible _Tollite portas_ ceremony[134]. Another such is found at
Venice[135]. But this is as late as the eighteenth century, to which also
belongs the practice at Angers described by De Moleon, according to which
the Maries took up from the sepulchre with the _linteum_ two large Easter
eggs—_deux œufs d’autruche_[136].
Besides the _Quem quaeritis_, Easter week had another liturgical drama
in the _Peregrini_ or _Peregrinus_[137]. This was established by the
twelfth century. It was regularly played at Lichfield[138], but no text
is extant from England, except a late transitional one, written partly
in the vernacular[139]. France affords four texts, from Saintes[140],
Rouen[141], Beauvais[142], and Fleury[143]. The play is also recorded
at Lille[144]. In Germany it is represented by a recently-discovered
fragment of the famous early thirteenth-century repertory of the
_scholares vagantes_ from the Benedictbeuern monastery[145]. The simplest
version is that of Saintes, in which the action is confined to the
journey to Emmaus and the supper there. The Rouen play is on the same
lines, but at the close the disciples are joined by St. Mary Magdalen,
and the _Victimae paschali_ is sung. The Benedictbeuern play similarly
ends with the introduction of the Virgin and two other Maries to greet
the risen Christ. But here, and in the Beauvais and Fleury plays, a
distinct scene is added, of which the subject is the incredulity of
Thomas and the apparition to him. It is, I think, a reasonable conjecture
that the _Peregrini_, in which the risen Christ is a character, was not
devised until he had already been introduced into the later versions of
the _Quem quaeritis_. Indeed the Fleury _Peregrini_, with its double
appearance and change of costume for Christ, seems clearly modelled on
the Fleury _Quem quaeritis_. But the lesser play has its own proper
and natural place in the Easter week services. It is attached to the
_Processio ad fontes_ which is a regular portion, during that season, of
Vespers[146]. The Christ with the Resurrection cross is personated by the
priest who normally accompanies the procession _cum cruce_. At Rouen
the play was a kind of dramatization of the procession itself[147]; at
Lille it seems to have had the same position; at Saintes and Beauvais it
preceded the _Magnificat_ and _Oratio_ or _Collecta_, after which the
procession started. In the remaining cases there is no indication of the
exact time for the _Peregrini_. The regular day for it appears to have
been the Monday in Easter week, of the Gospel for which the journey to
Emmaus is the subject; but at Fleury it was on the Tuesday, when the
Gospel subject is the incredulity of Thomas. At Saintes, a curious rubric
directs the Christ during the supper at Emmaus to divide the ‘host’ among
the _Peregrini_. It seems possible that in this way a final disposal was
found for the host which had previously figured in the _Depositio_ and
_Elevatio_ of the sepulchre ceremony.
A long play, probably of Norman origin and now preserved in a manuscript
at Tours, represents a merging of the _Elevatio_, the _Quem quaeritis_,
and the _Peregrini_[148]. The beginning is imperfect, but it may be
conjectured from a fragment belonging to Klosterneuburg in Germany, that
only a few lines are lost[149]. Pilate sets a watch before the sepulchre.
An angel sends lightning, and the soldiers fall as if dead[150].
Then come the Maries, with _planctus_. There is a scene with the
_unguentarius_ or _mercator_, much longer than that at Prague, followed
by more _planctus_. After the _Quem quaeritis_, the soldiers announce
the event to Pilate. A _planctus_ by the Magdalen leads up to the
apparition to her. The Maries return to the disciples. Christ appears to
the disciples, then to Thomas, and the _Victimae paschali_ and _Te Deum_
conclude the performance. A fragment of a very similar play, breaking off
before the _Quem quaeritis_, belongs to the Benedictbeuern manuscript
already mentioned[151].
It is clear from the rubrics that the Tours play, long as it is, was
still acted in church, and probably, as the _Te Deum_ suggests, at the
Easter Matins[152]. Certainly this was the case with the Benedictbeuern
play. In a sense, these plays only mark a further stage in the process
of elaboration by which the fuller versions of the _Quem quaeritis_
proper came into being. But the introduction at the beginning and end
of motives outside the events of the Easter morning itself points to
possibilities of expansion which were presently realized, and which
ultimately transformed the whole character of the liturgical drama.
All the plays, however, which have so far been mentioned, are strictly
plays of the Resurrection. Their action begins after the Burial of
Christ, and does not stretch back into the events of the Passion. Nor
indeed can the liturgical drama proper be shown to have advanced beyond
a very rudimentary representation of the Passion. This began with the
_planctus_, akin to those of the _Quem quaeritis_, which express the
sorrows of the Virgin and the Maries and St. John around the cross[153].
Such _planctus_ exist both in Latin and the vernacular. The earliest
are of the twelfth century. Several of them are in dialogue, in which
Christ himself occasionally takes part, and they appear to have been
sung in church after Matins on Good Friday[154]. The _planctus_ must
be regarded as the starting-point of a drama of the Passion, which
presently established itself beside the drama of the Resurrection. This
process was mainly outside the churches, but an early and perhaps still
liturgical stage of it is to be seen in the _ludus breviter de passione_
which precedes the elaborated _Quem quaeritis_ of the Benedictbeuern
manuscript, and was probably treated as a sort of prologue to it. The
action extends from the preparation for the Last Supper to the Burial. It
is mainly in dumb-show, and the slight dialogue introduced is wholly out
of the Vulgate. But at one point occurs the rubric _Maria planctum faciat
quantum melius potest_, and a later hand has inserted out of its place in
the text the most famous of all the laments of the Virgin, the _Planctus
ante nescia_[155].