*W‘Wn“ " . ‘» , - TIME AND THE RELIGIOUS DRAMA- AN INVESTIGATION. INTO THE FORMAL DRAMATIC STRUCTURE OF TWELVE PASSION PLAYS DETHE MIDDLE AGES” . Dissertation far the Degree TofvPh. D... _ * ‘ MICHIGAN .iS-TATE UNIVERSI IDIINwILLIs ARNOLD .2; - * f . ' I . ' V , v ' , - 5 .' . . r. I. r » , . , 2 . , 5 I . I. . I". I ' O O >2 . ' I . . .I 2. ' . ~ 0- ' ' 2 Ir ‘ " , I V I . . . .. , , awn-.5...” , . ‘ 1...”;‘r" . ,, . .2 ‘ "“w’ ..’ if. 1‘: ~-- ~.,: . I- » 5 , 5 ‘I ’I ..... _ ”mu...“ 5 “:.:.,.H,- ' -o~u' ' ' 5.. .o— . .,. +ru1.. , Wu. . .‘ , :1 '7;- “tr.;;:; u”- "WI-"z, -. ”:35” Wam- . ~. :3. 5 3‘ I 'fi ".4 52:. 2 - . - . ._ "I I ‘ r ",5, "Wu .... 32...":2'5'17 3‘" g: - .‘ ,' v ‘ . m - - MM.- ~41- Hz” ‘ - :fl ”he" . . . A, . ".va . {334.3% ”5...:“J: v-w?..~..."" . I ‘ - "v I . , . “3:522 . ... . I - , ‘97.: 9' I . -... . - . I , _ rim“. I ~ ".4: _-- 7.59:3...3 WI 2" 2 - , . .' ' '- ‘ ‘ ' 7 Mn.» '"figg'w - . ‘ ,h I I ' 2.";1'.“ » . “Wear-r on» an: r»- want! y t: E" L14”. i;f1'§.r'l‘}’ A": ”V "T’ ."“.' :rrlawxxr-xrg This is to certify that the thesis entitled Time and the Religious Drama: An Investigation Into the Formal Dramatic Structure of Twelve Passion Plays of the Middle Ages presented by John Willis Arnold has been accepted towards fulfillment of the requirements for Ph . D. degree in Department of German and Russian 0K4; Ag’b#/ch ‘2: F) 11“ Major professor Dan: August 3, 1977 0-7639 er WM ABSTRACT TIME AND THE RELIGIOUS DRAMA: AN INVESTIGATION INTO THE FORMAL DRAMATIC STRUCTURE OF TWELVE PASSION PLAYS OF THE MIDDLE AGES by JOHN WILLIS ARNOLD The massive corpus of criticism written about the medieval religious drama contains few studies of either its structure or its dramatic intensity. Through a consideration of the formal, regenerative structure of twelve Passion plays encompassing the years 1150 AD. to 1517 AD. and originating in Italy, Germany, France, and England,I have attempted to unearth several reasons for their extraordinary theatrical longevity. The method employed was derived from the phenomenological school of criticism and especially the treatment of temporal dramatic structures advanced by Peter Putz. The process of creating anticipation in audiences was found to be the cornerstone of the formal organization of all dramatic endeavors, regardless of their time of production. Attention was directed to the manner in which medieval playwrights integrated succession as well as past and future events into a 'present', or audience-imminent time. Several categories of temporal manipulation were applied to each play in an attempt to discern how specific authors consciously or unconsciously employed dramatic-structural techniques to extend their productions beyond the confines of scriptural records while faithfully representing the sacred history of Christ's Passion. The biblical story was found to admit numerous alternatives of representation, possibilities consistent with religious, cultural, and social values and attitudes of the surrounding society. The texts were divided into chronological groups to afford opportunities to compare John Willis Arnold and contrast techtonic methods within the four mentioned national literatures. The two texts of Group I (1150-1250) presented the Passion in a commemorative fashion, celebrating the facts of Jesus' triumph over His enemies. Group II (1250-1340) gradually redefined and amplified existing material to stress the Lord's human suffering. This redefinition led directly back to a renewed Christocentric piety introduced by St. Bernard, St. Anselm,St. Francis, St. Bonaventure, the Franciscan preachers, and John of Caulibus. Group III plays (1340-1517) greatly expanded an awakened interest in character portrayal and social criticism to instruct, to moralize, and to preach. The method revealed a correlation of intent and form. Artists chose or instinctively included certain temporal categories to reflect their attitudes and designs for the works. By investigating time structures I was able to identify and evaluate the curious tendency for anachronistic presentation in medieval Passions, then to comprehend it in light of the medieval understanding of sacred history, that is, the eternal 'presentness' of Old and New Testament truths. There emerged a 'theory of dramatization' perceived by few medieval scholars. This definition of the consequence of time made many modern ideas on ideal dramatic forms redundant and inconsequential. Another result of this study was an expanded aesthetic appreciation of often masterful, occasionally inspired methods of rendering the age~ old tale of the Passion. It was found that, by employing objective measurement to non-contemporary dramas,a modern mind, having put away its preconceptions and prejudices, could enjoy and more thoroughly comprehend the artistry behind these monuments of medieval Europe. TIME AND THE RELIGIOUS DRAMA: AN INVESTIGATION INTO THE FORMAL DRAMATIC STRUCTURE OF TWELVE PASSION PLAYS OF THE MIDDLE AGES by John Willis Arnold A DISSERTATION Submitted to Michigan State University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY Department of German and Russian 1977 3; C3 wsd ("‘30 @ capyright by JOHN WILLIS ARNOLD 1977 DEDICATION For my understanding and loving wife, Claudia, for my dear and patient son, Michael, and for our esteemed mutual friend, Gail. ii ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS It is with a profound sense of gratitude that I recognize the many persons who have lent their abilities to this thesis: Dr. Richard Walker, co-chairman, whose unfailing interest, sup— port, and human perceptions kept me at the task these many months; Dr. Sandro Sticca, co-chairman, who so graciously shared both his time and vast knowledge of medieval drama and criticism, and without whose constant guidance and concern the task would long since have been abandoned; Dr. Arnold Williams, who many years ago provided the initial spark of interest in medieval drama and at whose hands the topic first took shape; Dr. Ann Harrison, who first introduced me to the French branch of the medieval dramatic family and constantly supported me with her wisdom; Dr. Kurt Schild, a demanding, but understanding taskmaster, who taught me to read; Dr. John Yunck, a singularly knowledgeable and effective teacher, whose insights into medieval culture and literature, combined with a well-honed wit and deeply-appreciated humanity, excited my curiosity and caused me to endure the difficulties of a lengthy investigation; Mr. Walter Burinski and the staff of the Inter-Library Loan Facility at Michigan State University, who cheerfully and expertly provided many specialized texts upon which the thesis rests. iii TABLE OF CONTENTS LIST OF TABLES. . .,. LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS AND SHORT TITLES, PREFACE . CHAPTER I Introduction . II Traditional Scholarship. III Method010gy. . . . . . . . . . . The Stratum Theory of Literature. The Stratum of Linguistic Creation. The Stratum of Meaning Unity. The Stratum of Represented Perceivable Objects The Stratum of Schematized Aspects. Medieval Drama and Literary Temporal Parameters . Successive Ordering of Events . . Presentational Time and Represented Time Temporal Foreshortening , . . Tempo- Acceleration and Retardation , Parallelism, Interruption, and Psycho- intellectual Moments . Suspense and Anticipation . IV Formal Consideration of Drama and the Dramatic . The Genre Drama and the 'Dramatic! Style. Medieval Drama as 'Drama' . . V Group I- Montecassino and Benediktbeuern . 'Time of Presentation and Represented Time . Succession of Events. Adverbial Evidence . . Temporal Linking of Events . Spatial Movement . . Appearance and Withdrawal of Characters. Succession by Dialog . Plot . Design and Realization. Command and Execution . Mention and Appearance of Characters. iv .viii .ix .xi 23 33 35 36 37 39 40 42 44 46 49 51 53 57 63 63 66 74 75 78 78 79 81 84 87 92 93' 96 97 VI Tempo of Succession . Temporal Parallelism . . Interruption and Suspension. Discourse on Mary Magdalene. Anticipation of the Future . Proclaimed Occurrences Originating in the Material . Announced arrivals . Prophecy . Oaths. Forms of Proclamation Emanating from Structure. Intimated Occurrences Originating in. the Material . Time Consciousness . Mood . Dreams . Forms of Intimation Emanating from Structure Discourse on Conventions of Early Stages . Silence. Music. Recovery of the Past . Events Previous to the Onset .of Dramatization. Remembrance. Trials . Expositional Forms of Remembrance . Narrated Pre- history . Pre-history as a Present Circumstance. Actualized Pre-history . Retrieved Events Within Dramatized Time . Epic Application of the Chorus. Group II- St. Gall, Adverbial Evidence. Temporal Linking of Events. Spatial Movement. Appearance and Withdrawal of Characters . Succession by Dialog. Plot. Design and Realization . Command and Execution . Mention and Appearance of Characters . Passage of Time . V Wien, Palatinus, Autun B and R. Time of Presentation and Represented Time. Succession of Events . . 99 .102 .105 .111 .114 .115 .115 .116 .120 .122 .123 .124 .126 .128 .130 .130 .132 .134 .135 .137 .137 .139 .142 .143 .144 .145 .147 .149 .160 .173 .184 .185 .187 .193 .200 .204 .213 .214 .218 .218 .220 Tempo of Succession . Discourse on the Virgin and her Structural Importance in the Passions of the Fourteenth Century. Temporal Parallelism . Interruption and Suspension. Integration of the Future. . . Proclaimed Occurrences Originating in the Material . . Announced Arrivals . Prophecy . Oaths. . . . . . Forms of Proclamation Emanating from Structure. Intimated Occurrences Originating in the Material . Time Consciousness . Mood . Dreams . . . Forms of Intimation Emanating from Structure. Silence. Music. Reflection and Contrast. Integration of the Past. . . Events Previous to the Onset of Dramatization. Remembrance. Trials . . . Expositional Forms of Remembrance . Pre- -history as a Present Circumstance. Actualized Pre— history . Retrieved Events Within Dramatized Time . VII Group 111- Chester, Towneley, Gréban's Mistére, Donaueschingen, Alsfeld. Time of Presentation and Represented Time. Succession of Events . Passage of Time . Succession by Dialog. Plot. . Design and Realization . Mention and Appearance of Characters . Tempo of Succession . Discourse on the 'Reality' of the Crucifixion. Temporal Parallelism . vi .223 .235 .268 .273 .289 .289 .289 .290 .293 .294 .297 .297 .300 .302 .303 .303 .304 .304 .311 .313 .313 .315 .317 .318 .319 .320 .332 .349 .374 .374 .376 .384 .384 .386 .388 .396 .408 Interruption and Suspension- Integration of the Future - Proclaimed Occurrences Originating in the Text . . . . Oaths Intrigue . . . Forms of Proclamation Emanating from Structure. . . . . . Intimated Occurrences Originating in the Material . . Time Consciousness . Mood . Unconsciousness. . . Forms of Intimation Emanating from Structure. . . Meaningful Noises. . Reflection and Contrast. Integration of the Past. . . Events Previous to the Onset of Dramatization. . Expositional Forms of Remembrance . Narrated Pre- -history . Pre- -history as a Present Circumstance. Retrieved Events Within Dramatized Time . VIII Conclusion. APPENDICES . FOOTNOTES. LIST OF REFERENCES . vii .412 .425 .425 .425 .427 .434 .441 .441 .442 .443 .446 .446 .448 .455 .455 .457 .457 .459 .463 .477 .486 .509 .602 Table LIST OF TABLES List of Plays Examined . . . . . Adverbial Evidence of Succession . l 2 3 The Scenic 4 The Scenic S The Scenic 6 The Scenic 7 The Scenic 8 The Scenic 9 The Scenic 10 The Scenic 11 The Scenic 12 The Scenic 1% The Scenic 14 The Scenic Structure Structure Structure Structure Structure Structure Structure Structure Structure Structure Structure Structure of Mbntecassino . of Ben? . of StG of Wien . of Pulat. of Autun B. of.Autun.R. of Chester. of waneZey . of Mistére . of Donau. of.AZsbed. viii .22 . 486 . 488 . 489 . 490 . 493 . 494 . 49S . 496 . 497 . 499 . 500 . 503 . 506 LIST OF ABBREVIATIONS AND SHORT TITLES Alsfeld Autun B Autun R BenP Chester Christusbild Configurations Deutsche Drama DLK DL:1500 Donau DMC Drama Drama DVjs EES Eigenform Elemente English Religious Lyric Erkennen Figure Das Alsfelder Passionsspiel La Passion d'Autun- B(iardi) manuscript La Passion d'Autun- R(omani) manuscript Das Benediktbeurer Passionsspiel The Chester Cycle Pickering: "Das gotische Christusbild, Zu den Quellen mittelalterlichen Passionsdarstellung." Nelson: "Some Configurations of Staging in Medieval Drama." Michael: Das Deutsche Drama des Mittel- alters Ingarden: Das Literarische Kunstwerk Michael: "Deutsche Literatur bis 1500: Drama." Das Donaueschinger Passionsspiel Young: Drama of’the MEdieval Church Brinkmann: "Das Religigse Drama im Mittel- alter: Arten und Stufen." Hartl: uDas Deutsche Drama des Mittel- alters." Deutsche Vierteljahresschrift Wickham: Early English Stages: 1300 to 1600, vol. I. Brinkmann: "Die Eigenform des mittelalter- lichen Dramas in Deutschland." MUller, Maria: Tragische Elemente im Passionsspiel des.Mittelalters Woolf, Rosemary: The English Religious Lyric in the Middle Ages Ingarden: VOm Erkennen des Literarischen Kunstwerks Meyers: A Figure Given: Typology in the maEereZd Plays ix List of Abbreviations and Short Titles (cont'd) Fbrmgeschichte ~ French Drama GR GEM Grundbegriffe JEGP Lit and Art Mimes Montecassino Mistére Palat Passion Pilate PMZA Progessionsspiele Spirituality StG Stil Teufel Themes and Images waneley Untersuchung StG verschmelzung Mien Bgckmann: Formgeschichte der Deutschen W frank: The Medieval French Drama Germanic Review Germanisch-Romanisches Monatsheft Staiger: Grundbegriffe der Poetik Journal of English and Germanic Philology Pickering: Literature and Art in the Middle Ages Gamer: "Mimes, Musicians, and the Origin of the Mediaeval Religious Plays." The Montecassino Passion Play Gréban: Le Mistére de la Passion La Passion du Palatinus Sticca: The Latin Passion Play Williams: The Characterization of Pilate in the Towneley Plays Publications of the Modern Language Association Michael: Die Geistlichen Prozessions— spiele in Deutschland Sticca: "Drama and Spirituality in the Middle Ages." Das St. Galler Passionsspiel Maller, Walther: Der schauspielerische Stil imVPassionsspiel des Mittelalters Rudwin: Der Teufel in den deutschen gezstlichen Spielen des Mittelalters und der Reformationszeit Gray: Themes and Images in the Medieval English Religious Lyric The Towneley Cycle Hartl: "Untersuchungen zum St. Galler Passionsspiel." Wolff, Ludwig: "Die Verschmelzung des Dargestellten mit der Gegenwartswirklich- keit im Geistlichen Drama des Mittel- alters." Das Wiener Passionsspiel PREFACE In the subsequent analysis of medieval drama I have selected a view- point which emanates from a personal reading of the texts. The reasons for such a non-traditional approach to these products of ages long past are twofold: my primary interest and intent during this exercise is to offer aesthetic insights for modern readers which will enable them, if not to thoroughly enjoy, then at least to respect the accomplishments of artisans operating within a set of literary rulescnr 'handicaps' sig- nificantly different from those we take for granted; the resulting structural analysis may provide insights into medieval thought and life, providing in the mirror of staged activity at least a glimpse of the possible reality laying behind it. The uninterruptable flow of chron- ology has made the way back through the centuries, particularly through the vehicle of literature, fraught with cultural, religious, even hiStorical misunderstanding;1 we cannot renew an acquaintance with med- ieval drama in the same manner as did its contemporary audiences; we must rely on manuscripts which, in many cases, have not well withstood changes in religious dogma, war, or general neglect, and which are subject to scribal whim, the ultimate significance of which we can only conjecture. We also view dramatic activity from an altered point of view. But the unyielding curtain of time and change may prove to have small tears in it through which we may occasionally peek. In the final analysis, however, the cultural and religious distance between then and now is simply too great to bridge with complete success. We may ap- proach that flickering mirage of truth, and, if we are careful and fortune smiles, chance to touch it here and there. Nevertheless our tools will remain imperfect at best, for any modern analysis or xi discussion, though it purport to contain ultimate viewpoints and per- ceptions similar or identical to the Middle Ages, will inevitably betray its anachronistic bias to one degree or another.2 I have, therefore, chosen to adopt a stance which is obviously modern, but which at its most challenging point demands that each work be considered in light of the exegencies of literary creativity which define it and make it unique. It is not only naiveté, but intellectual folly to expect, for example, a complete originality of plot and character from medieval drama. The initial step on the path of acceptance and literary enjoy- ment is to recognize that that particular value so highly prized by twentieth-century man has little, and in many instances, no appeal or value of its own in medieval times.3 But this is not the only problem inherent in the ensuing discussion. The theme of the analysis and the critical method employed therein raise several fundamental liter- ary questions. Some relate to the concept of temporal experience, one which has undergone substantial mutation in the centuries separating us from the Middle Ages, while others appear as part of an essentially modern literary theory generated by the philosophy of phenomenology. To affbrd methodological clarity, it will be necessary to different- iate between medieval and modern thought on the nature and experience of time. A second category requiring amplification will be the phil- osophical distinctions which separate the two ages. It is also nec- essary to consider the experiences which bind the two eras to complete the picture. Several basic observations concerning the inner workings of phenomenology must be made, since this method has rarely been applied to medieval texts. Although the following remarks offer an outline of numerous literary tenants of this philosophy, my interest in offering xii them is to establish the validity of the approach, not to engage in a protracted examination of the psychological and philosophical back- ground of the method. I shall discuss only those portions of phenomenology which have directly affected the outcome of this literary investigation. Readers who feel the inclination to explore these theories further are referred to the works on the subject quoted in later footnotes and in the general bibliography. The attempt to define the playwright's intention through structural analysis is made with the full realization that the result must remain only an attempt. One must be something of a modern Renaissance man for complete understanding of a complex phenomenon like medieval drama. Thus, I do not imply a thorough recapitulation of medieval philosophy, rather a recognition of the correlation of form and intent at a fundamental level of artistic creation. Since my interest is not specifically to ascertain the origins of particular characters or dramatic forms, or to investigate other than in the most superficial way the influence of the liturgy or Easter plays on evolving Passion plays, I have omitted the normal discussion of the evolution of liturgical drama from the tenth-century 'Quem quaeritis' trope through the several steps culminating in Easter plays and preparing the way for fully-developed Passions. A particularly well- written outline of this development is offered by William L. Boletta in The Role of'Music in Medieval German Drama: Easter Plays and Passion Plays (Nashville, 1967). Allied with my cardinal interest in the coming paragraphs is the desire to investigate through the techniques of structural measurement the degree to which medieval men were able to fashion meaningful xiii dramatic ferms from biblical material. I choose formal analysis which turns upon the successful integration of several temporal phenomena in order to ascertain how well the Middle Ages reconstituted drama with- out knowledge of previous Greek and Latin theatrical practices. What forces act upon the author as he attempts to mold the story which precedes the dramatic genre?; how will he shape a tale which turns on supernatural and miraculous events and whose sequence permeates the whole of historical time? How does his product employ structural- temporal necessities of effective theatrical performance? What follows is a consideration of the reformulation of’a genre as witnessed by dramatic structure. How an author provides for spectator interest is. a very real indicator of the quality of that reconstitution. xiv CHAPTER I INTRODUCTION The experience of time is a universal human phenomenon. Each person experiences time in some fashion, for, as Meyerhoff explains, "There is no experience . . . which does not have a temporal index at- tached to it."1 From the dawn of civilization mankind has studied the passage of time and determined methods of measuring it, thereby relat- ing himself to its movement. He has not always occupied his present psychological and philosophical position relative to the coming and going of events. Modern man's predilection for viewing past events as separate from his present situation (except as one event causes another) is a function of his historic sense, one which places developments into specific contexts relating social, cultural, religious, and political events to one another and to a given historical situation. For modern man there is little sense of continuity in life or art. His is a world in continuous flux; innovation becomes an artistic virtue of exceeding importance. It is for these reasons that to more clearly understand medieval art in general and medieval religious drama2 in particular, we must consider the ancient concepts of man's relationship to the passage of time and contrast it with our own modern ideas. Only then will we be prepared to ask what the medieval religious drama communicated to its audience and what form the message took. »OJ. .- .\.. v 1.. In the temporal frame of reference which constituted spiritual be- havior medieval man perceived himself surrounded by abiding things. He counted himself part of a heirarchy of existence from the lowest ferms to the highest, whose members possessed an intrinsic continuity. All existence was created existence and seemed to be created each moment, not anew, but continually. God gave things being and at the same time caused them to endure.4 There was a specific form of continuity inherent in the creative act which linked man and his surroundings to previous and succeeding generations. In its most general sense time was not horizontally linked from one secular event to another, but . . . 5 » rather evolved on earth and rose vert1cally 1nto etern1ty. The result was incomplete duration, a system continually developing towards some uncharted future union with the Creator. Georges Poulet explains: Thus sustained by the permanent continuity of substantial farm, the moving continuity of time unrolled itself, so mobile and so fluid that it was impossible to distinguish con- secutive moments. No doubt such fluidity implied a part of non-being. But what distinguished this time from Hera- clitan time or even Platonic time . . . was that it was a move- ment towards an end... . . Even in his body the Christian of the Middle Ages felt a continuous orientation towards a spiritual perfection. Time had a direction. Time finally carried the Christian toward God.6 'For medieval man, then, time was "strictly limited in duration and importance: it differed from eternity, and in eternity lay all human goals."7 Eternity, as understood by our ancestors meant not infinite time, but timelessness.8 This concept of time which placed God outside the confines of human temporal experience, but recognized His unlimited dominion over it, projects numerous staged conventions upon medieval theater, most notably that of a pervasive anachronism, which at first glance seems strangely out of place or 'foreign' to us. As we delve further into certain of the peculiarities of medieval theater, its importance and appropriateness will become apparent. The perception modern readers bring to literature is conditioned by the habit of attaching chronology to all events, their genesis, con- tinuation, and exodus being delimited by fairly specific dates in history. They do not lead to eternity, but issue from one, continue into another, only to disappear into the vagueness of past time. They may be recalled, but are seen as having left the consciousness of pre- sent things, resting somewhere in the realm of history. Even when we bring an event nearer our reality through memory, an inescapable logic tells us that it continually recedes into history, or as Roman Ingarden observes: . . " . . . N Es w1rd 1mmer ,alter', 1mmer mehr ,anc1en', immer langer .vergangenl. Zwischen das vergangene Ereignis und unsere immer neue Gegenwart schieben sich immer neue, soeben noch gegenwartige und jetzt schon vergangene Tatsachen, Prozesse, usw. . . . Aber auch diese . . . eben noch werdende aktuelle Gegenwart geht nichtsdestoweniger vorbei und verwandelt sich in eine neue Vergangenheit, . . Modern man distinguishes consecutive moments and marks them in his mind. But he has lost the benefits inherent in relating himself to past events and experiencing the implied continuity. He has instead substituted history in its broadest sense. His chronologicalnotion not only colors his philosophy of life, it also permeates his literature. Modern man has little tolerance for anachronism in art, events or objects out of chronological order with their surroundings. Medieval man, on the other hand, referred his whole cultural, social, and religious life to the vast panorama of preceding events and found a satisfying sense of endurance. In his religious life, our ancestors from the Middle Ages formulated their weekly communion with God in terms 4 of sacred history. History for them was not, as Weber puts it, "a descriptive ordering value",10 giving events a life of their own in a chronology which might be conceived as a relationship between cause and effect; man's final reality, his origin, end, and center of time, was the Almighty, Who dwelt beyond time.11 Even if man considered himself part of incomplete duration, he was, by virtue of his temporal bondage and human condition, conscious of the passage of time in other ways. He experienced night and day, the changing seasons, the times of nature. But this natural time was impossible to mark with accuracy until the beginning of the fourteenth century, when the introduction of counter-poised clocks afforded him . freedom from the vicissitudes of inclement weather.12 Before the advent of this invention, mankind reckoned the movement of time by motion of heavenly bodies-- when he could see them. These phenomena all conform to sidereal or conceptual time, of calendar and clock time, recognized by modern scientists and mathematicians in their calculations. For medieval man conceptual time was decidedly inferior to his spiritual timepiece. Conceptual or natural time may have guided his system of fead production, his lying down and rising up, but in things of the spirit, he was indifferent to its passage, as Scholes and Kellog state: "For ancient man the significant (i.e. ritual) actions, by virtue of their identification with mythical events, took place out- side of ordinary chronological time."13 Medieval man's spirit was bound to an entity beyond his reckoning of days and years. Unchanging rituals integrated individuals into the community of true believers; the liturgy subsumed every aspect of the person into direct affiliation with his Lord's life.14 Even natural time and seasonal changes were 5 integrated into the Church calendar by alliance with stages of re- demption: autumn prepared Christ's inception into human time by Advent; the long period of penitance during Lent flowered with nature in spring and came to bloom in Easter; summer was equated to Pentecost.15 The Roman Mass, occupying the center of liturgical celebration, was ordered in its variable parts to stress the lives of saints (though on a daily, not seasonal basis).16 For members of religious orders even the hours of the day were fixed, not by the natural course of time (though Prime and the rising of the sun were linked allegorically),17 but enclosed in prayer and a reformulation of sacred history using Scripture, according to Weber, to "relate each day to the seasonal (religious) cycle of the year and to interpret the passage of the day in the life of the individual soul."18 Thus was medieval man's life ordered far beyond natural or conceptual time; every moment or WiSh on his part or on that of the congregation was "articulated and con- secrated by the liturgy of the Church."19 His eyes saw the ultimate truth of a God—centered universe beyond his sensual experience (If changing hour and season. As noted, natural or sidereal time is a constant. But entirely different methods of experiencing the flow of time exist which employ criteria other than the constancy of moving bodies; they prevail out- side the barriers of natural time; they are not always steady, determined or defineable passages of minutes, hours, or days. This time exper- ience has its origin in each individual consciousness, a fact recognized by ancient and modern minds alike. It is also somewhat independent of the idea of sacred history, for though it may be directed by the sacred, 6 its ultimate reality exists in the psyche of every individual. St. Augustine, in rejecting the concept of sidereal time as the final arbiter of temporal experience,20 was perhaps the first to recognize the presence of an alternative perspective based on the eternal presentness of actions.21 Although every event must be placed into a present system to occur at all, it is possible to employ memory and expectation to account for past and future happenings.22 The past was understood to be the present memory of past events and the future a present anticipation or expectation of unrealized conditions: . . . nec proprie dicitur: tempora sunt tria, praeteritum, praesens, et.futurum, sed.fiortasse proprie diceretur: tempora sunt tria, praesens de praeteritis, praesens de praesentibus, praesens de futuris. . . . praesens de praeteritis memoria, praesens d3 praesentibus contuitus, praesens dc futuris ex- pectatio. With his discussion of time based on memory and expectation, St. Augustine initiated the investigation of the subjective relativity of temporal experience. In view of these considerations, this study attempts to stress this subjective relativity of time, of the consciousness of temporal experience, by applying certain modern techniques of form analy- sis developed primarily by the phenomenological philosophy of literature, a system which places the experiencing individual at the center of consideration. Each literary epoch contains certain artistic possibilities. These alternatives are reflected in form. Since man is the center of the literary process, it follows that his art will reflect an understanding of his world at a particular time. Thus, in the medieval period, life may revolve around the Creator, but the understanding and form taken by literature is supplied by human beings, who interpret through human images and communicative devices. 7 Each author we shall investigate perceives the events of the Passion in a singular perspective and creates certain time structures, if only intuitively, to reflect this subjective experience. Each pro- vides a separate statement on the accepted flow of events culminating in the Resurrection. It is also of utmost importance to realize that the cultural and social milieu in which the artist finds himself will greatly influence what he choses to commit to record and how he ac- complishes it. The monastic surroundings of Montecassino will do much to define that first preserved Passion, as will the market and urban experiences of writers of the late fifteenth century. True literary masterpieces refuse to be frozen into 'period pieces', objects of little consequence for any but the most dedicated specialist. Their form, the structure given them by human intellect, is the key to their existence. Ideological and cultural investigations are useful, but they do little to clarify the artistry reflected in great literary endeavors. They do not take into account the degree to which the intellectual content of the work, the ideas of a cultural period, are rendered into a ferm which transcends chronological barriers. Paul Bgckmann argues convincingly: "Solange man das Eigenrecht der Epoche allein aus ihren geistes- oder kulturgeschichtlichen Bedingungen heraus rechtfertigt, kommt man nicht zu einer Erkenntnis ihrer dichter- ischen M3glichkeiten."24 We may speak of cultural and bibliographic inputs of an era and perhaps gain some shred of understanding for the creative process at a given time. But this says precious little about the power of poetic creation at work in an individual writer or group of writers. When one makes clear that certain historical situations direct artists down specific paths, that the method of literary communication V 8 is unique to a period, that it does not follow an abstract norm nor conform to some ideal set of rules, then, and only then will the deeper and more productive questions of the mutation of form and its importance be asked.25 Literary masterpieces communicate independently of the ideas expressed in them.26 Works of art certainly convey attitudes and ideas; these are the unavoidable raw materials of intellectual endeavor. That which separates them from mundane transmission of information is the structuring of the informational process. The history of form and its manipulation is the history of ideas and their mutation. When foam is studied, a satisfying aesthetic appreciation for the author's creative talents constitutes an added benefit for the initiated reader. Form places man before himself,27 as in a mirror, and in the words of Bgckmann: Es erweist sich dann, dasz in allem dichterischen Schaffen nicht um beliebige Formen geht, sondern immer um diejenigen, in denen sich das Menschliche seiner selbst vergewissert - Es geht nicht um eine Technik der kunstgerechten Wirkung, sondern um eine Erkenntnis der Formen, in denen der Mensch sich selbst zu begegnen vermag. With all this stress upon the position of man in the literary equation, critics may argue that he is not the center of interest in medieval drama. Ample evidence to the contrary may be cited. One can point to a change in the pattern of Christian consciousness of existence which as early as the twelfth and thirteenth centuries began to dissolve the objective participation in the Mass and in liturgical drama as the mystical Body of Christ; instead one perceives even in the years which contain_the earliest preserved Passions of Western Europe a movement towards fractionalization of the community of believers into a group of 9 individuals, all experiencing the plays in a subjective way. There are to be found in late medieval religious drama statements on the meaning for the individual of Christ's sacrifice. Such a pro- nouncement is made by the Proclamator of’Alsfeld: got gebe dae mer das spiel szo triben, das mer got damidde eren und alle sunder und sunderyn sich bekeren die dissze horen und sehen. 0 The context is purely religious, but mankind remains the fecal point. This example provides evidence that representation of the ultimate offering by the Christ is not experienced as a purely historic and far-removed event, performed as a known deception; an intensive aware- ness of His sacrifice fer man is called fer and a response anticipated. Later paragraphs on the peculiar nature of drama will lend further weight to the argument. The relationship between content and ferm which gives a literary work its unity, reflects the author's world of experience and brings it to view.31 When one considers the origins of medieval drama in the Church liturgy, when one notes the religious positions of those identified as having written Passion plays, as well as the fact that they long remained under the auspices of Church authorities, one recognizes the relationship between expressed ideas and the form they took. Even with all the elaborate discussion of 'secularization' of religious drama, which, it is supposed, accounts for the numerous worldly elements of later plays, one must not overlook the fact that the Church did not eject the plays into the streets, but guided them 0 32 o o o ' there "on grounds of convenience", ma1nta1n1ng control over much of 33 the perfbrmance even after they left 'consecrated ground', by virtue 10 of the division of clergy into regular and secular membership.34 Mere acceptance of a theatrical hand from laymen, particularly from‘ guild members in France and England35 in no way altered the basic message or reason of performance. We can expect, therefore, that the underlying intentions of even the most 'secularized' plays originated in the religious arena, that a design other than pure entertainment defined their form. A study of temporal form can recreate in part the literary possibilities of these works, possibilities which in turn direct our attention to the spiritual context of the Middle Ages.36 Of equal importance for this study is the investigation of aesthetic qualities in medieval drama which are reflected in the time structure. Insights by readers as far removed from the original presentations as twentieth-century readers are will surely only approximate those of medieval audiences, although the intensity need not be less. We cannot hope to recreate in every detail the primitive experience of the first audiences. But the phenomonologist's tools of objective measurement db enable us to experience the products as dramatic entities with a particular style and temporal construction worthy of consideration. Readers may well find themselves at odds with my conclusions and even with one another when the discussion turns to authorial intention, for even a marginal comprehension of intent implies not only a vast know- ledge of social and intellectual history, but a solid foundation in medieval theology as well. Though these limiting factors be operative, none can deny the structural application, the formal presence of literary phenomena in the texts. Dramatic qualities can be immensely enjoyed and appreciated even by modern readers when structural criteria are applied: the 'how' of creation is more important than the 'what'. 11 H Eberhard Lammert addresses himself to the importance of the process: Sofern aber historische Forschung ihr Augenmerk nicht nur auf das Was', sondern auch auf das Wie' der kunstler- ischen Aussprache3richtet, gerat sie notwendig in Kontakt mit einer Poetik, die die grundsatzlichen Moglichkeiten dichterischer Aussage ausgebreitet hat. Solche Blicknahme auf auszerhistorische Sachgesetzlichkeiten gibt dem histor- ischen Betrachter kunstimmanente Maszstdbe in die Hand und begunstigt auf diese Weise auch die historische Beurteilung einzelner Werke und ganzer Literaturstromungen nach ihrer asthetischen Eigenart. 3 Such qualitative conclusions benefit our objective considerations of distant epochs which cannot be defined by those aesthetic conventions of our modern literary reality,38 for they concentrate attention on the manipulation of enduring measures, on the very act of creation, on form. Significant fer literary masterpieces is their ability to withstand changing demands placed on them.:59 Their communicative capacities transcend their ideological content. Many ideas lose their impact in time, but their structure resists subjective changes in interpretation. It is the realized potential of material which associates succeeding generations with masterpieces and creates the possibility of intimate aesthetic experience independent of the date or the creation of the work. An effective channeling of ideas into poetic reality can be absorbed and appreciated by anyone who will attend the formal structur- ing of literature. A study of several Passion plays is well suited for such an experience, as all rest on common liturgical ground. The ideas expressed remain relatively constant; they all share a similar potential for dramatization. This dramatic potential, as reflected in temporal structure, will in each instance, however, be singular, as not only each Passion, but each realization of the same 12 play constitutes a separate dramatic entity.41 The attendant investigation employs as its point of departure research into the peculiar artistic potential of time management dis- cussed by Peter Patz in Die Zeit im Drama: Zur Technik Dramatischer Spannung (thtingen, 1970).42 This author investigates several methods of structuring past, present.and future events in theatrical perfor- mance. His service is that he approaches the formation of time relationships from the temporal demands of drama as a genre. This avoids much of the current unwarranted antagonism toward medieval drama, an aggravation which rests upon a misunderstanding or lack of exposure to the artistic possibilities which medieval drama could employ, and , is often abetted by the current attitude of agnosticism towards things religious. Patz substitutes objective measurement and a study of technique not bound to any school or type of dramatic literature in the place of emotional and irrational criteria. Hardin Craig, a well- known contemporary medievalist, displays such a bias when he remarks: When one considers the origin of the mystery plays within the medieval church, an origin without thought of dramatic or histrionic effect, and when one considers also how these plays passed into the hands of very simple medieval peggle . one can see that the1r techn1que was 1neV1tably naive. Such a generalization does great injustice not only to the artistic capacities of the several clerks, priests, and other clergy who at various times lent their talents to the formulation or expansion of the dramas, but to the auditors of the plays as well. Furthermore, it does violence to the facts now available to any careful investigator. I feel obliged to refute this inadequate statement not only with hard evidence, which will be developed at length in the analysis, but also with opinions generated by scholarship more recent than Craig's. 13 After intense reflection and investigation into medieval drama I am convinced that Craig has erroneously and all too harshly judged these ancient plays. Instead I share the thoughts of Boletta on the subject. While he directs his remarks specifically to Alsfeld and to the role of music in it, his observations have, I believe, general validity for the entire dramatic genre of the Middle Ages: It is, of course, a well established critical stance to regard medieval drama as a rather simple-minded but devout dramatic rendition of the Vulgate into scenes, but the selectivity and the deceptive artlessness of many plays belie their sim- plicity. . . . Those responsible for the Alsfeld Passion Play were not possessed of the sophistication of a Gottfried Von Strassburg, or a Hartmann von Aue, but they were not fools or children either. Though Alsfeld has its occasional loose ends and exists within a definite medieval dramatic and religious tradition, it is not devoid of merit and origin~ ality. If the word 'artistic' in this context offends, let us call the achievement in Alsfeld one of dramatic crafts- manship, but let us not dismiss this play and most of medieval drama as an interesting curiosity devoid of dramatic cogency. Indeed, it appears that the presentation of conventional religious ideals may well have made audiences from this period more sensitive "to the implications of thought in dramatic works than to the inner relationships of plot and character,"45 the latter quality of which constitutes a supreme value for modern drama. A much more constructive, and, I believe, accurate conclusion than those of scholars like Hardin Craig is advanced by Glynne Wickham, who hints at dramatic successes not recognized by many critics: All in all, scholarship is teaching us that our ancestors of the Middle Ages, far from being crude, barbarous, illiterate and generally inferior beings, were, on the contrary, civil- ized. Despite their lack of our cushioned, conveyor-belted and cellophane-wrapped amenities, their world had meaning and purpose: and what is more, they were fully able to make this manifest in all they left behind them.46 - 14 And in the context of production organization of the English cycle plays, the same author again questions Craig's insinuations of intel- lectual naiveté in medieval people: To take another aspect of the plays, what right have we to regard organizers and administrators who were capable of handling casts between fifty and a hundred actors, budgets totalling several thousands of pounds and audiences com- prising thousands of people, as simpletons? If they were, then it is surely quite extraordinary that these audiences . should have supported plays regularly all over Europe for some two hundred years? I share many of Boletta's and Wickham's philosophical orientations. My study stresses the idea that, despite the religious exigencies inherent in Passion accounts and often because of them, artists were capable of brilliant products reflecting intensive dramatic power by ' the effective structuring of the literary potential of'the drama in that epoch. Indeed, I shall endeavor to show that the very core of the Passion account, of material contained in Scripture dealing with this time in the life of Christ, contains a wealth of dramatic potential. A formal analysis employing primarily modern tools of structural measure- ment will show the degree to which mostly unknown artists formed their messages into viable dramatic works by consciously or intuitively employing dramatizing techniques of time manipulation. To return to the benefits of employing structural measurement, some validity may be contained in Craig's opinion concerning the lack of an identifiable, all—pervasive dramatic theory from which medieval drama issued, but to state that medieval drama was inevitably naive is to judge earlier works by narrow, even biased, and individual stan- dards. I will have occasion to consider Craig's contentions again upon the advancement of several pertinent structural discoveries. I do, however, wish to call one more witness against Craig, for 1H: m; ,~ .1. 11:. that 131;" 55¢A. 5““ 15 typifies so much of adverse medieval scholarship. The opinion I wish to call up is that maintained by Waldo F. McNeir, who has observed that if medieval drama is to be afforded its distinctive and rightful position in English letters, it must be studied for its own value, not simply as some poor'antecedent of the more noble Elizabethan acn complishments.48 His statement can be generalized to include traditions of all texts contained in this study. The phenomenological approach advocated in these pages stresses objective textual analysis and careful measurement of form in an attempt to more clearly and im- partially approach the doctrinal and intentional realities behind them. It looks upon the text as the final arbiter and most perfect witness of its makers' accomplishments. Unreasoned and uncritical reactions have no place in structural measurement. The investigations of Patz avoid precisely such pitfalls by concentrating on the techniques avail- able fbr creative temporal management. His study enables one to recognize the dramatic potential of any body of material as well as to identify those particular techniques employed by medieval dramatists to effectively structure their works. There can be little doubt that medieval Passion plays were not created primarily as literature or as exercises in aesthetics:49 to maintain that these ancient dramatists consciously sought out the most effective dramatic techniques con— sistent with their religious context from a generally accepted literary theory is to completely misunderstand its nature and aspiration. There is to be found, however, ample evidence that, within the tra- ditional and doctrinal strictures of their material and its present- ational manner, medieval poets were indeed able to more than adequately organize their plays. The work of Kolve and Eleanor Prosser in the area 16 of choice of presented scenes convincingly establishes a remarkable latitude which could be exercised by any competent writer.50 I am neither so bold nor so naive as to imply that a completely conscious creative process is at work in all the texts we shall view. But the structurally measurable facts indicate that medieval dramatists were able to create intense statements of belief within a religious frame— work by intuitively exploiting the potential for presentation of the Passion account contained in Scripture. It is at this point that a modern reader armed with an understanding of form and structure can communicate with the work in meaningful ways. That the creative process was in certain instances an unconscious application of the biblical material and the artist's understanding of it does not alter the reflected literary skill. In order to open the door to medieval drama just a crack further, however, it behooves us to remember that it is we who must for a moment arrest our own presentational and religious conventions and let other modes of thought wash over us. We should realize that psychological understandings of the world which motivate modern tragedy has gradually replaced the dominant metaphysical con- cept which guided religious thought of ages past and lent medieval drama its singular form.Sl During this exercise we will additionally have cause to investigate several circumstances in the progressive alteration of probable authorial intent during the beginning of the feurteenth to the end of the fifteenth centuries which, within the context of a Christian view of the world, will suggest a certain commonalitywn m~w>oa mo AHnEomm< maow weweoam endomfi efiomm~< oqu :owuoouuemom Homcwm m.o:o~avmmz ooav Huge: mummvfi cowewzomosmeoo moumfiomfla ou ooeeuaogm< -eofiuoouusmom m~w>oo mo >~afiomm< ~ov- magma .u vnmmvfi .eu oawammz m.emnwao fla>xxv couscouusmom nxaxa assuage mmoe easemem «Roman .au aosoezoa cofiuooausmom mmouufiee< och mmvw meaaefloo Numan .mo noumonu seam m.um«n:u pom nommsm awe; umoacoa m.unomon pom venomoum. nmm m Hoqnsm uqu Huxuzuceo eowuoouusmox pom :ofiueaemoum mafia m manna :uv~ xfiumo asus< peace on maven“: nonmem one; chansucoo m.oeo~eemez you cowuauemoum 0mm“ xeeuu even xaueo msewueamm uoaasm anus Hana m.uouauss Nam acaeoua aoomma .ao can: oeouevmez op ooeaueomn< -couuuouusmom acne «a weaves: can“ .mmsuna: Rosana .au Hume .um «menu on» mofimfiomflo coausucoo sung seam accomoo on» mcfiuumu mwN neweonm Maw: umuwm ehoeonuxflvocom awake: msuoeaua someouh .mevsn own Nomenmeu moomga .eo oewmmaooueoz zouemsazou ezmzmuzmzzoo‘. mwmmmnz «chasm mean .mz zoammrs of Alsfeld place anticipated audience reaction into the specifically 66 religious context of the time by suggesting an appropriate, natural response to the dramatized Passion: au der kirchen eollen mer aZZe gann und got dankende eynn syner grosaen martel und pynn! (Alsfeld 2915—2917) Medieval Drama as 'Drama' The drama of the Middle Ages has long been identified with funda- mental qualities generally accepted as comprising the genre in its broadest sense. Both Chambers and Young defined it in terms of action, dialog, and impersonation. Young asserted that the latter must be phy- sical imitation, that a performer must not only represent a figure, he must resemble him as well.9 A major difficulty in the uncritical approval of this philosophical stance has already been suggested: it fails to account for participation and experience of countless other factors. From a purely philological standpoint, it also constricts our own abilities to relive drama without recourse to stages. 0.8. Hardison also points out the limiting effects of such a definition by noting that Young's ideas are predicated upon the physical presentation and not at all upon the literary text.lo He continues by observing that such discussions of drama are impaired by an imperfect knowledge of medieval stagecraft: "but acting and staging procedures are certainly 11 Hardison's ensuing not essential elements of the theory of drama." evaluation of the relationship of life to art further supports his contention that a good deal more than mere impersonation enters into the equation. As he searches for elemental forces which may define dramatic presentations, Hardison turns his attention to primitive societies and their religious rites. He finds an analogy between 67 priests and actors: "The priest (in primitive societies) does not represent the god, he is the god." Sarah Weber, too, finds an analogy in the celebration of the Mass, but is reluctant to identify the cele- brant with Christ. Instead, she sees him acting "as the Lord's visible representative and His living instrument,"12 rather than being Christ. Benjamin Hunningher is even more adamant in his denial of any identification between celebrant and the Unseen.13 Nevertheless, it seems to hold true that the most successful actors in some manner do identify themselves with the action of the play and the character they portray, that they do indeed assume, if only fleetingly, the cloak of personal suffering of the original personage. Hardison supposes this phenomenon of identification to have been active in the psyches of medieval actors as well. Since subsequent appreciation of literary art depends on its 'preserved form rather than on a complete reconstruction of stage realities, the factor linking medieval man to his post-Renaissance counterpart must lie elsewhere than in impersonation. I contend that it can be found in the definition of the Hramatic', in the opposition of struggling forces. A challenge elicits similarly-conceived re- sponses because they have their origin in human existence. At the very core of drama one discovers a human attempt to organize elements exter- nal to man, and thereby master them. Chambers correctly identified the 'mimetic instinct' of man as reflected in its classical dramatic 14 but was misled by his own distaste for the medieval Church and form, the evolutionary theories espoused by Charles Darwin, as applied to literature. In his desire to derive a continuous develOpmental pattern 0f theedramatic genre from elementary pagan beginnings to complex 68 and infinitely more enjoyable Shakespearean monuments, Chambers' 'mimetic instinct' relegated medieval drama to the status of a poor stepchild, of scant value or importance for its own sake. Nevertheless, it was an unfortunate antedating specimen of deve10pment towards Elisabethan masterpieces which required investigation, if only to com- plete the evolutionary pattern. Chambers did not approach this drama as an art form possessed of intrinsic value. In his opinion, he had uncovered a medieval Church exceedingly hostile to 'pagan' dramatic influences,a Church interested only in eradicating their unhealthy presence. It has since been established that the medieval Church actually directed and furthered dramatic presentations.15 More recent scholarship than Chambers' has given the lie to one of his primary arguments governing the early growth and intent of medieval drama. A modern-day proponent of the position espoused by Chambers and von Winterfeld is Benjamin Hunningher, who remains convinced that med- ieval theater owes its genesis to 'pagan rites' instead of tropes17 and that mimes played an extremely decisive role in early Church drama.18 Gamer, Sticca, and,most recently,Wolfgang Michael have taken issue with most of Hunningher's folkloristic responses to the questions of origin. I_need not delay further with matters concerning the nascence of theater except to remark that most scholars seem to agree that there does indeed exist a 'mimetic instinct' in all of human kind. Differences of opinion arise whencnua attemptSto organize the transition from lost Classical traditions to that body of theatrical production we call medieval tiueater.20 But it is exactly this basic drive for expression which links medieval drama with preceding and succeeding drama. 21 TE 69 Present day scholars generally agree that drama, as understood by ‘classical artists and audiences,did not survive the decline of Rome intact.22 Structurally speaking, Greek drama resolved itself into forms reflectingtimeobservations of Aristotle in the Poetics. This singularly important theoretical treatise became known to Western Europe at a relatively late time, when a German named Hermann translated it into Latin in 1256. Medieval drama had long since evolved Passion p1ays,.as is evidenced by the Montecassino text. Church liturgy is normally afforded the title of progenitor to this drama, specifically the‘Quem Queritis‘trope of the Easter liturgy. Julius Schwietering postulates that liturgical drama, a phase evolving towards Passion plays, finds its origin in musical entities constituting significant portions of the Mass.23 According to this theory, medieval drama has its genesis in a lyrical form, that of music. Elsie Helmrich, in her introduction to The History of the Chorus in the German Drama (1912), sketches the broad developmental outlines of Greek drama, like- wise beginning with lyrical hymns, those honoring Dionysus.24 She relates the first epic additions to the festival as well as to the part played by dance. It would thus appear that, quite apart from their distinctive final forms, Greek and medieval drama do share some common religious ground.25 A note of warning is raised by Robert Edwards, who cautions readers against uncritical acceptance of the ritualistic origins of medieval drama by noting that classical scholarship has recently moved away from the attitude that Greek tragedy arose from ritual.26 There need not be any fundamental disagreement between the ideas of Schwieter- ing, Helmrich, and Edwards, for even in ritual I see a religious response to mankind's 'mimetic instinct'. 70 Medieval drama shares dramatic characteristics with all drama which can be formally reconstructed with modern tools. It is not simply a 1‘ . . . . . . . naive, impoverished relative of more sophisticated dramatic offerings. It merely organizes its mimetic instinct and lessons into the religious context of the period, as countless ages and cultures have done before. Schwietering glimpses the religious origins of drama when he writes: Ich bin mir k1ar,dasz ich damit an letzte metaphysische Grunde religioser dramatischer Dichtung und, falls alle dramatische Dichtung im Religiosen wurzelt, an den Ursprung dramatischer Wortgestalt schlechthin zu ruhren wage, aber nicht mit vorgefaszter Theorie, sondern aus vertiefter historischer Einsicht in die Genesis des mittelalterlichen liturgischen Spiels . . . von diesem bescheidenen Einzel- gebiet aus ein literarhistorisches Problem von allgemeiner Gultigkeit losen zu konnen. When we look for concepts which shape the fate and character of a civilization, its religious practices and teachings are found to unlock attitudes and fundamental methods of dealing with life. A natural coalition of religion and drama appears almost inevitable. Thompson explains: . . it is religion that ultimately informs the dramatist's work as well as other men's, and gives it whatever human significance it has. . . . Technique is necessary to make a play effective, but out of a high religion alone can the substance of a great play come. In these lines are contained the most probable reasons why the dramatic Style, instead of epic narration, for instance, was employed so ex- tensively to address the Passion of our Lord. No less significant was the very nature of the material to be portrayed. The raw material con- tributing the 'historical' context or 'plot' of Passion presentations, the biblical story, itself possessed a highly-dramatic character in an epic organization; the dramatic style lent itself best to a forceful realization of Scripture}0 And the dramatic form best suited the 71 purposes of its mentor,.the Church of the Middle Ages. From a purely theoretical viewpoint, the conflict between Christ and the external world, embodied in pharisees, devils, Jews, and Pilate, presents enor- mous dramatic potential. This contention of forces is paraphrased into philosophical terms by Petsch, who finds in such discord the true roots of the dramatic style: Das gewaltige Ringen des Ichs mit dem Schicksal ruckt in der dramatischen Gattung so uberwaltigend in den Vorder- grund, ja in die Mitte der ganzen Darstellung, weil es den Vorgang gleichsam aus allen seinen Erlebnis- und Erfahrungs- zusammenhan en herausreiszt und vor uns auf die Buhne hinzwingt.3 Passion plays not only explore Christ's wrestling with forces external to Him, but also seek to explain man's part in the struggle.32 It is to be expected that the structure of time also contributes to this outcome by engaging expectations and anticipation within the spectator. Sandro Sticca relates the function Of medieval drama to its dramatic form and finds theater integrated into Christian philosophy: It constitutes a powerful dramatic statement on the Christian faith at its richest and most complex. The aim of medieval drama is that which motivated the medieval church as a whole: to express in visible dramatic terms the facts and values of the accepted body of scripture and theological belief. Christian art, particularly the dramatic art, is more than a pleasing ornament, it is actually grafted on to the fabric of Christian thought.33 If we concentrate upon the peculiar fact of medieval Passions, that the story was widely-known and accepted, our attention is directed to the touchstone of dramatic endeavor: how to portray the known in 'impressive' ways, how to bring home to bystanders its greater sig- . . . . 3 . . . nificance for their very salvation. 4 This immediately turns our interest towards the management of the material by the writer, towards the"how' of his temporal structure and its implication for the 72 dramatic style in general; for it has been established that dramatic presentations by their very nature tend toward the application of certain techniques designed to create anticipation or suspense in their audiences. To more clearly understand the deeper implication of these temporal techniques the reader need only accept the religious milieu which defines medieval stages. If the dramatic style is viewed as reflecting a continual struggle of man with his fate, either in a religious or secular context, then the analogous relationship of all dramatic forms become apparent. Modern man can then apply his phenoe menological tools stressing structural measurement and not be in methodological conflict with these old dramas. Medieval dramatists may not have the complete freedom to relate to their material that is afforded modern playwrights, but they will still organize their tales and employ temporal techniques to accomplish goals consistent with the literary alternatives of their time. 35 The structural method employed here will serve to elucidate several literary techniques which culminate in viable works of art. Implicit in the method is an investigation into the reasons behind the final form, fer as Alan Thompson affirms: "Theater is an instrument, not an end."36 If structural measurement is correctly employed, the measured temporal manipulation may point directly to the cultural and religious values of the Passions. One may consequently develop a higher regard for essentially unknown artists. The conscious and unconscious workings of artistic minds may be glimpsed; the genius of a Wakefield Master can be more readily appreciated. But even this genius must be comprehended in the light of subservience to a higher purpose. Readers can marvel at his linguistic and dramatic facility, thereby gaining 73 perhaps an intensified aesthetic communication with the work quite apart from its age. They should, howeVer, realize that the Master's artistic genius always serves to comment not upon itself, but upon the timeless story of man's struggle for religious existence. CHAPTER V _ GROUP I (1150-1250) Montecassino and Benediktbeuern Our knowledge of the seminal years of the development from litur- gical play to Passion play is indeed inadequate. The history surrounding this transfer of media often rests on conjectural grounds and is openly disputed among scholars. We can, however, discern some vague outlines of patterns which may have aided the displacement. Early in this cen- tury Emile Roy was able to identify a Byzantine Passion antedating its oldest known relative in Italy by several hundred years.1 Sandro Sticca has recently traced the influences of Byzantine iconography, manuscript illumination, and graphic arts on southern Italian monestaries, notably that of Montecassino, from whence issued the first preserved Passion in the West. In the context of structural criticism, the Mbntecaseino Passion, a fully-developed Latin representative from the middle of the twelfth century, assumes significant preportions as the initial play of its kind. Montecassino, although an incomplete text, offers a dramatic enterprise of relatively high sophistication. This quality is all the more remarkable when the nearest chronological counterpart of Mbnte- caseino, BenP, is investigated. But we must draw strict parameters around any comparisons we may wish to make, for although the central theme of both plays is the Passion of Jesus Christ, each text reveals its own understanding of the event and each relates the tale differently. Each play shares a core of dramatized material, but few, if any, direct causal relationships have been established between German and Italian Passions of the period.2 74 75. Even though Montecassino does not contain as much structural differentiation as later continental Passions and English cycles, the playwright can be seen to organize his material into effective drama at an early date. Despite this, one early discerns a tendency in both accounts to remain faithful to Scripture, thus obviating any necessity to offer novel or completely original composition. Several techniques of time manipulation are therefore employed in a somewhat superficial manner, but their presence will set the stage for later, more complex plays. Thus it is that several examples of succession reveal the logic and power of the biblical story rather than evince a continual dramatic mastery of the same. In many instances these first two texts bask in reflected glory, but a substantial potential for dramatic creativity still exists. TTME'OF.RRESENTATIONRAND REPRESENTED TLME The objective duration of Mbntecassino encompasses 320 verses, whereas the represented time of Christ's Passion includes the period from Judas' bargain to the Crucifixion, those events from Maundy Thursday evening to Good Friday afternoon. Represented time approaches approximately twenty-four hours. Table 3 shows the general coincidence of the play and the Gospels. Mbntecassino commences with "Judas dicat", but there is no speci- fication of the temporal relationship between Judas' actions and the Last Supper, one made implicit by most later Passions. We cannot determine whether the playwright intended Judas to betray Christ during the final meal or whether his actions were calculated to be divorced from the meeting of Christ the Man with His disciples. The care with 76 which the author describes his vision of later scenes tends to confirm the latter supposition. It is evident that in this generally unembellished recollection of the Passion, represented time is only a framework of activities, that substantial portions of time have been disregarded, probably due to its fidelity to Scripture, and that the artist did not rework or extend individual Scenes to anywhere near the extent of later redactors. The single exception seems to be the scene of Utor's dream, a rather lengthy amplification of Matthew xxvii:19.3 However, by studying the extensive stage directions which accompany each speech and section, one can uncover a sophisticated time scheme behind the succession of events. Movement of represented time is neither simplistic nor rudimentary. Presentational time in BenP is defined by 289 verses of somewhat greater length than the versus tripartitus caudatus of the Latin text. Substantial differences between the two accounts rest in represented time. In these 289 lines the BenP author records the period from the calling of Peter and Andrew to the request by Joseph of Arimathea for his Savior's body. One shortcoming of the method of counting verses and equating them with the significance of any scene is especially evident in this play. Certain of the speeches, like the "Cum appro- pinquaret dbminud'and the'Cum audisset [populos}" of BenP 11 and 12, may only represent initial words of much larger speeches delivered, but whose detailed copying was not considered necessary by virtue of their familiarity. If this be the case, approximately twenty-one lines for the first and thirteen verses for the second short title are missing from the text as delivered in performance. Unfortunately, we haVe no means of ascertaining how many of each block were spoken. . 77 In Bonfithe artist has added several scenes of varying length and dramatic impact, making it more inclusive than the traditional Passion accounts defined by Kosch.’ Table‘ outlines the scope of Ben? and provides a general picture of its scenic structure. When investigating possible anachronistic elements in Group I, few instances may be identified from the manuscripts. In order to ascertain the degree of historical or dramatic up dating which has occurred, one must search the records of contemporary plays from the liturgy. From plays such as the Vieitatio Sepulchri and the Peregrinus, both preserved in the Fleury playbook, we know that ample use was made of realistic costumes copied from times contemporary with perfermance or with dress improvised from ecclesiastical vestments, as they had been during the tenth and eleventh centuries.4 Several illustrations from the twelfth century verify this tendency to employ costumes readily .at hand for such plays.5 From this general background of the presentational method we can assume a similar means of scriptural up dating in Group I. Figures emanating from historical life, like Mary Magdalene, Roman soldiers, Pilate and his wife, most probably employed dress appropriate to a worldly woman of the time, contemporary man-of-arms, and a ruler and his mistress of the Middle Ages. Though we cannot be certain about the costuming situation for all secular persons during the latter half of the twelfth century from the texts themselves, plays from the same period like the 0rdb ad.Repreeentandum Herodem, the Iconia sancti Nicolai, and the Filius Getronie all were produced with historically anachronistic costumes. This state of affairs is not at all surprising 78 when one considers the monasticorigin and cultivation of medieval religious drama during the several centuries before they took leave of ecclesiastical surroundings. To medieval man the Passion and Easter stories were not mere one-time events; they were not regarded as pure history, but as sacred history, as contemporary elements of life, renewed at each Mass, alive with meaning and significance for all.6 Thus anachronistic costuming was not only a product of available vest- ments, but also a natural outcome of a philosophical standard and outlook. SUCCESSION OF EVENTS Adverbial Evidence When reader attention is focused on the establishment of a suc- cession of events within Group I Passions, the initial phenomenon which meets the eye is a fundamental temporal motion of words and sentences indicative of an ordered chronology described therein.' Immediately after Judas has agreed to sell our Lord and has been offered reinforce- ments by Caiaphas we read: "Post hec exeant Iudas cum loricatis. ,"7 As Judas reveals the sign of betrayal to his cohorts, the reader is informed: "Post hec Iudas eat ad illum locum ubi Jesus orat. . . ."8 Jesus is led to the priests by the band and the author carefully indicates that this action issues from a specified previous event: "Post hec du- crant loricati Ieeum Zigatum ad sacerdotes, , , ."9 In each of the three ‘Lnstances the adverbial phrase, post hec, irrefutably establishes the idea of succession.10 Other temporal constructions of this sort are expressed by various introductory adverbs. Respondeat (reepondeant) occurs in 21 instances, . 79 item once, iterum thrice, tuna once. Two ablative absolute construct- ions complete the evidence oijbntecaaeino, all indicative of a logical and consistentordering of speeches and actions in time. The rubrics which accompany Ben? are less inclusive. Nonetheless, a customary ordering of scenes and speeches in represented time can be discerned. They, too, indicate by several adverbial elements that a certain planned chronology is present throughout the play. Thus it is reported that the angel visits Mary Magdalene after she has fallen asleep,11 that Jesus is lead out to be beaten after the command by Pi- late, and that His body is arrayed in purple and the crown of thorns placed on His head after the flagellation.12 Temporal Linking of.Events The causal chain of events in Montecassino is dramatically sound and effective. The scene chosen to initiate the drama, Judas' bargain for Jesus, provides the necessary dramatic impetus which leads to the betrayal itself. This event in turn prepares the appearance before Caiaphas, just as this very scene contains the arguments which culmin- ate in Jesus' trial before Pilate. Actions naturally flow from one into another, creating a series of life-like encounters. Here one should note the structural puissance of the Gospels themselves, from whence Mbntecassino draws its strength. At first glance the author of BenP seems to violate the dramatic injunction to place scenes into a logical developmental pattern and build upon each individual episode. We are confronted with five preparatory events which appear to be unmotivated recollections antedating the Passion. These encounters, the Calling of the Disciples, the Healing of 80 the Man born Blind, the Visit to Zachaeus, the Entry into Jerusalem, and the Repast with the Pharisee, undeniably occupy dramatic territory outside and incidental to the Passion itself, and as such, do not submit to the same dramatic logic which defines the tighter structure of Montecassino. Another form of structuring seems to underlie their presence. Certainly, each scene is not dramatically related to its successor, but the small bits of dbctrinal information included in each do form an eventual organizational logic sublineating the greater sig- nificance of the conversion of Mary Magdalene. To grasp this peculiar connection of widely-separated units, one must comprehend the conse- quencesof the entire sequence of events. When seen in the light of Mary Magdalene's worldly life, an inner, more symbolic relationship of the parts becomes clear. The five scenes in question are undoubtedly commemorative of Christ's life and teachings which precede the Passion. Jesus is seen to surround himself with simple fishermen, to heal a poor beggar, to bless the house of a tax collector, and to eat with an established religious leader. The statements place Him in a cultural milieu of great religious and social prominence. The formal linking of these rather epic renditions sets the stage for the introduction of the character who was most in- volved in the world until her conversion, the figure who spoke most eloquently to frail humanity of the Middle Ages, and occupied a position of highest esteem in the medieval religious hierarchy for many years, Mary Magdalene. If we observe BenP from this perspective, the mere suggestion of Christ's life and impact, contained in surprising doctrinal fullness in the few verses afforded the five scenes, reveals an admirable 81 logic of temporal development. The method of presentation is simply distinct from that of Montecassino. ‘The development is nonetheless reasoned and compelling, leading as surely to the Magdalene's con- version in BenP as Judas' betrayal leads to Christ's arrest in Montecassino. Spatial Mbvement The passage of represented time is also implicit in the alternation of location, for it is inevitable that any place change defined by the playwright signals a commensurate moving of the hands of the clock in represented time. Regardless of the staged length of the journey linking any two loca, the symbolic or theoretical flow of time continues. The medieval stage, particularly as it relates to the use of space and movement therein, owes most of its conventions to liturgical drama of the tenth century. That convention which most concerns us is one which differentiated between localized and unlocalized areas of acting. The former carried the Latin name dbmus, locus, or sedes, while the latter was known as a platea. These distinctions certainly derive from Church architecture of the period.13 The generalized quality of the plated made the way open for develop— ment of one of the most important concepts of medieval drama. Normally this place was no more than an area in front of a stage where actors moved when necessary,14 but by implication of its geographical neutrality, no simulation of a historical fact being acted out in a historical place was ever attempted.15 The story of the Lord's suffering took place before a medieval audience in a medieval location, not in far off Palestine. Our particular interest here is the manner in which time is implied to 82 pass and how its passing is simulated when staged activity enters or transits the platea. Already in the earliest Passions the symbolic qualities of movement are apparent. Contrary to much modern drama, medieval plays cannot be conceived without a good bit of movement between loca, for medieval drama, particularly the Passion play, is a theater of action, of movement, and the simultaneous stage with its representation of the world in miniature,16 complete with an area wherein transfers can be accounted for, allows the eye of the audience to follow movement inherent within the tale without dilution of the critical concentration on action. The passage of time insinuated by shifting localities receives liberal application in Mbntecassino, for it is intimately bound to the transparent ordering of events and constitutes one of the most obvious dramatic techniques employed to create such an organization. The flux of time is evidenced between Pilate's judgment and the Flagellation, for it is reported: ". . . sacerdotes et milites capiant Iesum et ducant eum ad alium locum. . . ."17 Shortly thereafter the manuscript states: "Post hec loricati exuant Iesum [clamide et inlduant eum vestimenta sua ."18 Each scene is [et ducant ad] locum ubi debet crucifIigi]. similarly introduced by the establishment of imagined changes of locale.19 We may be unable to ascertain exactly how much time lapses on stage or in represented time during these spatial transfers, but their occurrence and the manner in which they drive the story forward is of primary importance. And they are of particular value for deciphering Passions which have few stage directions. They aid in extrapolating the author's conception of the succession of events and show how he envisioned the passage of time. 83 Ben? employs several changes, of location to move represented time forward. Although, fer example, the exact temporal aggregate necessary for the Magdalene to move from the merchant's position to Jesus' locus is not specified, represented time inevitably moves forward between the direction, "Accepto ungento vadat ad'd'ominicampersonam",20 and the next speech.delivered "cantandb flendb", even though the audience may not be consciously aware of the ensuing temporal void” ‘To logically remove Christ from the court of Pilate and insert Him into that of Herod21 and then to reverse the process22 also necessitates a progression in repre- sented time, regardless of its suggestive degree. Pilate's reconciliation with Herod, probably mimed,23 transpires between the return of Jesus to Pilate and his words, "Nullam causam mortis invenio in homine isto!"24 This undramatized action provides evidence that the two events are separated in represented time. Indeed, a continual preparation of lo- cation change through dialog is obviated by the medieval convention of staging several locations simultaneously. The rapid shift from one location to another and the corresponding movement through unimpor- tant phases of represented time can be accomplished with little dis- ruption, spectator interest already being focused on the dramatized event, not on the time required to make the journey.25 Indeed, time itself, as it applies to movement and space, is all but cancelled out by the capacities for symbolic depiction of the simultaneous stage. Hartl reasons: Kurz sind die Wege von Ort zu Ort, und die Zeit, die in dem sub specie aeternitatis denkenden M(itte1) A(lter) nur eine untergeordnete Rolle spielt, wird durch die Kraft des Symbols auf ein Mindestmasz zusammengedrangt. In light of staging conventions, the highly-symbolized movement from 84 place to place becomes readily understandable. Appearance and Withdrawal of Characters The inexorable transition of one represented moment into the next can be further simulated by the appearance and withdrawal of characters themselves. Entrances and exits must occur in some logical sequence; the opening moment excepted, figures appear on stage and move from the dramatic present into the realm of memory. No change in scene or character is possible without a conforming march forward of represented time.27 Thus, each new appearance of theatrical personages signals the succession of chronological moments. The artist of Montecassino prepares the arrival of characters well. Few instances of unmotivated entrances or leave-takings can be documented. Scenes normally grow organically either from the immediate dramatic surroundings and exegencies of the episode itself or they result from previous happenings, many of which are inherent in the story. The Cassinese playwright calls up the armed band which will capture Jesus by linking Judas petition, [E]rgo factum maturetis et clientes mihi detis probes atque strenuous (Montecassino 25-27), with the willing accommodation of Caiaphas.28 BenP contains a complex of individual actions related to Mary Magdalene, all of which offer in microcosm hints of temporal succession for the entire play. Highlights from several hours are telescoped into a few verses which reveal the worldliness of Mary. During her immediate speeches Mary is seen engaged in secular activities, among them the praising of her life style, the buying of accoutrements of her 85 trade, and the seduction of a young man.29 It is here that a lust for life, the feeling of heady dramatic accomplishment emanating from the incorporation of metrical and lyrical forms from contemporary secular love poetry, of the particularly lively Latin Vagantenliedersoand ver— nacular Minnepoesie,31 are employed to enliven Mary's character. The well-conceived poetry of the Clerici Vagantes is subsumed into the larger structure of the Passion play and serves to define Mary as a peculiarly medieval person to a degree which will be realized in few characters throughout the development of German medieval theater. Upon falling asleep, an angel appears to Mary,32 informing her of Jesus' presence at Simon's dwelling.33 The angel retreats and Mary awakens to continue her activities, visiting a merchant with her hand- maiden to purchase rouge.34 An angel appears a second time, presumably addressing Mary with words previously spoken.35 Mary's second reaction is as absent as her first, for she continues her revels, seemingly unaware of the meaning or content of the heavenly message.36 After a third encounter with the celestial messenger, Mary abruptly recognizes her sin and delivers a moving Latin lament.37 Although the conceptual duration of the complex is not specifically related textually, the three short subsections set off from one another by the message of the angel, insinuate a chronological linking of temporally successive moments. In these scenes, the chain of figures, seen by PUtz as the consequence of careful temporal and dramatic organization,38 fosters a meaningful continuity of action between individual scenes. Unfortunately, this is not the case for the entire presentation. I have previously remarked on the relatively well-developed causal qualities of Mbntecassino. As was stated, it is not this author's 86 style to invent unrelated scenes or characters. A certain carrying over of figures from one scene to the next assures a smoothness and constancy of temporal movement not as highly developed in BenP. Sections which at first glance appear to be either inserted for their own sake or unmotivated according to an essential chain of figures most often occur at the same time as the central event, and run parallel to it in another location. These can logically only be recorded in a quasi- successive order in the manuscript. Despite the general absence of such devices throughout the drama, one interesting example of the binding of scenes through a chain of figures in BenP merits consideration. Like so many of the worthy dramatic qualities developed by the author, this illustration origin- ates in material which investigates the Magdalene. The connection between scenes depicting her recognition of sin and her forgiveness by Jesus is so logical, growing out of her extreme spiritual agitation and quest for repentance, that any temporal development not leading directly to her Master is unthinkable. Mary goes from a situation involving her lover and diabolus39 to a profound vocalization of her sorrow,4 pointedly symbolized by her investment of mourning cloth.41 Her realization, accompanied by an angelic assurance, ". . . gaudium est angelis dei super una pecatrice penitentiam agente",42 elicits extreme contrition in Mary; her visit to the merchant to purchase precious oint- ment is the only activity which separates her from Christ's loving forgiveness,which lightens Mary's sinful burden. It forms a logical continuation of immediately preceeding events, concretizing Mary's feelings into action. Her presence in each of the subsections serves to unite them into a thematic whole and to reflect the smooth transition 87 of successive moments. If we were to compare identical scenes in Montecassino and BenP, the dramatic strategies of both would become immediately apparent. The appearance and withdrawal of characters affords us just such an opportunity. I have already investigated the effective dramatics of Judas' introduction of those who will accompany him to Gethsemane on his errand of treachery, noting how well their presence is mandated from internal dialog shared by the disciple and Caiaphas. The identical episode in BenP shows no such motivation, for the characters who take part in Christ's arrest seem to simply be present at the time Judas agrees to betray Him. They are introduced, not by the request for arms and men, but by a suggestion of the high priests, who sing in response to Judas' words: Iesum tradas propere! turbam tecum accipe et precede viriliter! (BenP 59-61) Compared with its nearest generic relative, the succession of events in BenP, composed by the organized coming and going of characters, is not as well defined, not as carefully established, and not as potent. The single images simply move too rapidly and the causal sequence is not adequately reinforced. Succession by Dialog The sense of succession in dramatic works is not created solely by means of spatial alternation and movement of characters onto or off the stage; speeches given these figures accommodate a temporal-linguistic potential upon which the artist can also build. Allusion may be made 88 to events leading up to dramatized scenes and temporal association drawn between represented or reported developments. Speeches may provide indications of the represented duration of events without recourse to dramatization of all pertinent actions predating it. This can be ac- complished by the skillful manipulation of words and tenses in dialog. Repetition of individual key words and alternation of speaker serve to place actions and details into temporal succession.43 A dialog con- sisting of question and answer likewise reveals unavoidable temporal order and forms a special category of alternation in repetition, "denn er greift vor und kommt auf die Sache zuriick."44 The ensuing temporal structure,determined by the movement from query to reply,is a model of dramatic anticipation.4S Mbntecassino reveals several interesting illustrations of linguistic ordering. The effective interplay of tenses in the bargain scene, as Judas responds to Caiaphas, broadens the scope of presentation while avoiding the potentially hazardous elongation of many episodes and resultant loss of dramatic intensity. The reader becomes immediately aware that several important activities have already passed before the ' outset of dramatization when Judas remarks: .[I]esus deli seminator nostre gentis supplantator tetro fraudis nomine. Multos nostrum iam seduxit in errorem quos perduxit fraudulento nomine. (Mbntecassino 7-12) Although the exact definition of the acts subverting the people is lacking, the perceived reality emanating from them is brought into focus. The temporal horizons of the scene are suddenly widened, revealing a meaningful duration of pertinent circumstances extending well beyond 89 those events offered in performance. Without incorporating details about the actions themselves, the author successfully establishes the prior chain of events culminating in Judas' betrayal and provides a certain hint of the causality behind the disciple's actions. Judas also suggests a continuation of Christ's activities and an unhealthy outcome for the people if these past deeds are allowed to go on. His declaration, Cui si vita perdurabit totus populos errabit suis blandis monitis (Mbntecassino 13-15), effectuates a dramatic combination of undramatized past happenings with their logical future outcome if permitted beyond the represented 'now'. Such uncomplicated dialog carries with it an unassuming dramatic strength of impressive quality. It preserves an essential density and concentration of action, for it leads directly back to the represented time of Judas' betrayal. The motivation of coming events is contained in the traitor's words: Tradam vobis ipsum vere si vos vultis respondere digne meis meritis. (Montecassino 16—18) Judas' kiss is prepared and made dramatically ineluctable by the effect- ive combination of past, present, and future tenses. Jesus' speeches provide clues culminating in represented facts, too. As Judas seals his bargain with the damning sign, the Lord asks why the armed men did not seize Him while He preached in the temple. The reader is made aware by this device that at some time previous to the arrest Christ was in the temple, and another purely tangential consideration has been dealt with without recourse to dramatization. 90 The Lord contrasts that incident with the present one, again employing a device which expands the temporal structure without creating excessive length, a common weakness of a great many later Passions. The dramatic strength of the biblical record is thus made more obvious to us, as these observations by Christ emanate directly from it. In comparison with the trenchant exploitation of inherently dramatic material as shown above, Ben? often disregards such possibilities for theatrical creation. The sequence of Judas' bargain and betrayal is hardly comparable to the same scene in Montecassino, The tenor of the episode is manifested in the rubrics: ". . . Iudas veniat festinandb ."47 His words have little of the et querat oportunitatem tradendi. . . temporal power detected in Montecassino. The Speech, 0 pontifices, o viri magni consilii, Iesum volo vobis tradere (BenP 131-132), contains only a salutation accompanied by the matter-of-fact statement of Judas' intention. Throughout the entire sequence no allusion to prior events is made. If Judas had not taken exception to the anoint- ment of the Savior by Mary Magdalene, no indication of causality would be forthcoming. Even the scriptural reference to Christ's previous appearance in the temple is absent. A statement of the most general proportions is made by Jewish pontifs as they deliberate the Nazarene's fate. They mention His doing of signs and wonders, fearing that the pepulace will believe in Him should they release Him.48 Their brief recapitulation of Christ's general practices moves somewhat closer to specific explanation when they report to Pilate one of His prophecies: "Hic dixit: Sblvite templum hoc et post triduum reedificabo illud."49 Although the accruing dramatic effect, a tentative succession of 91 undramatized events to realized action, is accomplished by the movement from a general statement to a more explicit formulation of it, the net result is insufficiently underscored. It constitutes merely an ap- plication or restatement of Scripture without the additional temporal dramatization found in Mbntecassino. An indistinct but prevalent device which occurs in BenP is the vocal expression by persons as they narrate their reactions to immediately preceding events. Longinus does this when he muses on Christ's true nature. Upon regaining his sight, Longinus remarks: Er hat ein zaichen an mir getan, wan ich min sehen wider han. (BenP 269-270) The succession of instantly associated events is reinforced by the use of a perfect tense, indicating the temporal order between them. This observation, however, hardly convinces one of the dramatic qualities of succession in the whole of BenP.50 Several instances of inquiry and retort among figures are found in Montecassino. With few exceptions they emanate from the Gospels and their place in the text is probably obligatory for the faithful repre— sentation of the biblical story. An effective alteration of the normal following of answer to question is created by Christ's silence during His interrogations. The dramatic significance of this response will be investigated in subsequent paragraphs. Little need be said concerning the application of inquiry and retort in BenP, as their appearance is generally not fostered by a desire to exercise the theatrical potential of creating succession through the intimate linking of thoughts and opinions. Of the many instances in 92 Ben? where questions form a dramatic succession with answers, none are original with the author. Plot Every theatrical presentation presumes a movement forward of action through time.51 A point of inception is identifiable, as is the final consummation of action. The means by which authors cause their characters to interact involves an ordering of events into a succession: this chronology forms the plot. Whereas medieval playwrights may be bound to the basic material contained in religious teachings, they can and do exercise a certain freedom to order the plot of the story within established outlines. The dramatic manipulation of plot develops from relatively unoriginal presentations in Group I to extensive and highly-differentiated entities in Group III, as redactors add characters and embellish scenes offered in their infancy in Group I. It is a curious phenomenon of drama that many actions appear twice during exposition, initially in an announced form and again as a realized happening.52 Although units of plot may conceivably be re- ported by a figure alone,53 that motion from announcement to execution need not occupy an appreciable degree of represented time, the majority of examples of plot-induced succession in Passions offers at least some information relating the plan to its realization. Plot manipulation, if structured well, may create suspense, for it contains the potential for observable development, allowing the aud- ience to become active participants in the story; its interest is piqued by the succession which originates in announced intention and eyentual outcome or lack thereof. But in truly effective drama there exists a 93 necessary separating interval between announcement and completion. 54 With few Texts of Group I normally do not exploit this potential. exceptions the first appearance Of such a plot unit is immediately or quickly followed by its realization. Thus the quality of possible suspense is limited. Of the numerous techniques available for use in connecting one portion of plot to another in temporal succession, the Passions of Group I contain three. Two are nearly unavoidable consequences of theatrical presentation and the sacred core material from which the plays draw theirstatements.Passion plays were not intended to be original texts; their dramatic efficacy for medieval audiences lay in their ability to enliven Scripture through mimetic performance. Nevertheless, the fact that Group I makes little use of original material does not detract from its final forms. .The appearance of succession by plot manipulation confirms the observations on the dramatic qualities of the Gospel stories as well as the participation of medieval drama in identifiable fundamental requirements of the dramatic genre. a) Design and Realization When characters approach the stage, presenting a course of action to the audience or to other characters, a series of anticipatory fila- ments are drawn between two related, but temporally distinct events. The plan exposes the intent of a figure to set an activity into motion; the result is separated from :its inception by succeeding moments, the latten,in effect causing the former. Primary temporal movement is implicit. In Mbntecassino Judas first promises to betray his Master. A few speeches later the realization of the agreement comes forth. He 94 reveals the sign of treason to his followers, stating; Vbs hoc signum habeatis illum caute teneatis cui iam tradam osculum. (Mbntecassino 31—33) The interval separating the first mention of the event from its realization is slight, as the confrontation in the Garden almost immediately follows Judas' announcement.SS A second adaptation of the technique is evidenced upon the blas- pheming of the soldiers as they voice their intention to crucify Jesus as Pilate had ordered.56 Their decision is once again directly supervened by the next logical step in the sequence of actions and Christ is indeed led to His death.57 Judas' plan of betrayal is contained in all four Gospels,58 though John is the only writer to suggest that the betrayal took place in the same night as the arrest. The other three accounts suggest that Judas made a bargain at some previous time and waited for the oppor- tunity to turn Jesus over to authorities. Two Gospels report Judas giving the sign of the kiss to those accompanying him shortly before they reach the Mount of Olives.59 The second example cited above, while not contained in Holy Writ, conforms to a natural outgrowth of the words, "et educunt illum ut crucifigerent eum",60 placed into dramatic surroundings. Though the words are not original with the author, the use of them as a technique to reflect the temporal succession of events in his play increases the technical and structural strength of the story. In addition to the examples cited for Mbntecassino, BenP exhibits a number of novel representatives, due in part to its inclusion of more represented time. The first witness to the technique is found when the 95 Savior proclaims his desire to dine with Zacchaeus.61 In this instance the realization of the initial statement is intimated, but not defined. Logically, the meeting must have occurred to afford the tax collector an opportunity to declare his intention to repay his debtors,62 a promise offered at some interval after the original encounter in the Bible, but which immediately comes after Christ's statement in the play. A useful time lapse is lacking at this point; the transition from announcement to realization is too abrupt and uncertain to enhance the dramatic value of the play. An analogous situation results when Longinus resolves to end the Redeemer's suffering with a thrust of his spear.63 Here the interval between plan and accomplishment is nonexistent, as the verbalization of Longinus' intent coincides with its completion. This correspondence is indicated by the rubrics which accompany his speech: "Tune Longinus veniat cum lancea et.perfbret latus eius et ille dicat apertu. ."64 Two further instances of this technique center upon the acts of Mary Magdalene. She suggests to her handmaiden that they buy rouge from the merchant, "die uns machen schoene unde volgetane!"6S A repetition of the lines beginning, "Chramer, gip di varwe mier!"ffl3and the merchant's response, "Ich gib eu varwe, deu ist gugt . . .",67 combine to form the second, more specific appearance of the decision to purchase. The plan leads naturally to the fulfillment of the characters' stated intentions and mirrors an integral succession of events within the plot. Mary again chooses the vernacular to stress her intention of remain- ing at her Lord's feet until He redeems her from sin.68 The conceptual power of vernacular German, employed to touch bystanders with its delivery and simple intensity, cuts through the formal/doctrinal 96 characteristics of Latin to speak directly to medieval man in his own everyday medium. Jesus' absolution is separated from Mary's pronounce- ment by fourteen lines of dialog between Him and Simon, including the parable of the two debtors. The realization of the announcement transpires as Christ forgives the sinful woman and concludes with the benediction, "vade in pace!"§9 Mary's original design has done much to cause the scene of fergiveness and make the realization almost inevitable. b) Cbmmand and Execution Temporal succession within the plot can also be.structured through the simple command. The decree constitutes the primary impetus for an act. The adjuring figure presupposes an attendant execution at some later time, forcing the two singular events into a commonality of cause and effect. Anticipatory forms in the guise of commands can, if pro- perly organized, create an intense feeling of suSpense, since the command may not necessarily be carried out. It may as easily be side- tracked by other, unforseen actions, or be perverted into another form not anticipated by its originator. The possibility for substantial artistry is inherent: ,Wie-Spannung' may be reinforced as the interval between command and execution passes in the presence of spectators. Their attention can easily be focused on the manner in which the anti- cipatory command becomes reality. In both Group I texts the succession of command and execution is immediate, rarely separated by more than a few words. The overwhelming majority of textual evidence for this technique originates in Scripture. Although a temporal ordering of events emerges from each instance, the dramatic potential for suspense is rarely realized. In Group I com- mands are routinely carried out exactly as they are given. 97 Mbnteoassino demonstrates a great number of command-execution successions which drive the plot forward, not into a complex set of suspenseful relationships, but into the next logically related situation or moment. Each grammatical imperative institutes a response, Judas' request, ". . . et clientes mihi detis",70 calls forth the actual com- pliance by Caiaphas;71 the Lord's command, ”dicite quem queritis",7 initiates a response from the armed men;73 the oft—repeated demand by . . . . 74 the hlgh priests, "Cruczfige eum", finally is fulfilled and the real- ization of the command takes form on the Skull.75 The instance of'Uror's dream and her requests of Pilate define the single example where the commands of a figure are actually disregarded. The qualification, however, must be made that Pilate had every intention and desire to carry them out, but was hindered by the uncontrollable will of the Hebrew high priests. The Christ of Ben? often speaks in a prescriptive manner, His words normally eliciting an immediate response and no situation conducive to suspense arises.76 A succession of phrases and sentences in time is called into being, but is supplied by the biblical account or is an . . . . . 77 exten51on of this material in dramatized form. c) Mention and Appearance of Characters A third technique of infusing a work with temporal succession while simultaneously eliciting spectator suspense and building awareness without recourse to lengthy monologs is contained in the preparation of the entrances of central figures onto the stage.78 Individuals of minor distinction may provide anticipatory information which finally culminates in the arrival before them of the very object of their speech. Goethe effectively raises the level ofexpectancy for his 98 audiences when he introduces Egmont by this valuable technique in the drama of the same name. By reciting the previous acts, opinions, and intentions of a dramatis persona, by offering descriptions of his per- sonal qualities, and by defining his physical or mental capacities, persons of lesser dramatic or doctrinal significance give notice and temporally generate the eventual approach of the figure of greatest interest. This entrance becomes the focus of an anticipatory form which may create suspense in the audience. The person about whom so much has been reported comes into sight; the playgoer knows him well, though he has not yet uttered a word. Montecassino prepares Christ's emergence in this manner. The prior speeches of Judas and Caiaphas, while not concentrating solely on Him, provide bits of information about this exceedingly dangerous man, whom we first meet in the attitude of prayer.79 The revelation by Judas of the seditious acts of the Savior contrasts remarkably well with His humble countenance. Time is also telescoped into a series of high- points, wherein are described the years of Christ's ministry in their quintessential forms. Without calling up great testimonies of wrong- doing in monolog or dialog, Judas identifies the perceived results of the Master's sojourn among men: He has sought to supplant the established religious authority and has seduced men into error with his new teachings.80 With barely five lines of text the author has provided us with an enlarged conception of the period leading up to the Passion, and effectively set the stage for the appearance of the Christ. His eventual emergence is temporally and logically ordered.8 99 A careful reading of Ben? reveals a complete absence of any ap- plication of this technique. The capacity for suspenseful ordering through mention and appearance remains unrealized, for Jesus acts from the very beginning of the tale until it is nearly completed. Indeed, from a standpoint of effective exploitation of this means of ordering and compelling future events, Montecassino stands alone in all the manuscripts under study; it alone offers a useful example of this technique in a well-realized form. Tempo of'Succession The ritualistic and commemorative nature of both texts from Group I causes certain problems for any meaningful discussion of the illusionary duration of staged events. From a technical point of view, the passage of time is greatly accelerated by the skeletal character of both Passions. Montecassino speeds the tempo of succession through its straight- forward account of the development towards Christ's sacrifice. As events quickly march after one another, the possibility for purposeful retardation disappears. Few instances of suspense formed by the mingling of acceleration with retardation of tempo are forthcoming. There occur nonetheless two scenes which seem to be lifted out of the time rush, two encounters which are highlighted with additional verses and dramatic time. Of primary interest are the conglomerates of the trials before Pilate. The first scene encompasses 88 verses with the inclusion of Umop's dream and entreaty to her husband that he not condemn the Innocent One, while the second trial is reported in 45 lines. Were the Flagellation included as part of the second appearance before Pilate,82 100 as it is in later Passions, the two trial scenes would exhibit lengths greater than the rest and perhaps indicate increased importance. Until the trial sequences commence, the succession of events has continued at a quick pace. Here detail is significantly increased, delaying the immediate succession of anticipation and realization. Audience attention is directed not only to the individual arguments of priests and the ineffective retorts of Pilate, but the eventual outcome is also postponed for some time by the dramatization of Uxor's dream. In fact, a certain suspense is created by Pilate's vow to accomplish his wife's wishes to avoid a false judgment. This is, of course, exactly contrary to the final outcome, as Pilate gradually must give ground to soldier and priest. Whatever the original stimulus for the inclusion of this scene may have been, the dramatic effect of retarding and even temporarily calling the expected outcome of the trial into question through a point-for-point embellishment of extra-biblical material provides an effective slowing of tempo. The spectator can follow the unfolding of the second appearance before Pilate with increased attention. But, of those scenes presented by this artist, it should be noted that the trials are also the longest of the Gospel records.83 With the exception of Uxor's dream, whatever retardation of succession occurs between individual scenes through extended analysis of trials in Montecassino seems to result from source material. One further incidence of retardation may have taken place during the Crucifixion. Unfortunately, this state of affairs cannot be assumed with any degree of certainty, for several events subordinate to it are lacking. A more complete manuscript might well add considerable 101 detail to the doctrinal highpbint of the drama. As previously noted, BenP also haStens temporal succession. Small remembrances of no more than three Verses constitute each of the first five scenes. The succession from one to another could hardly be ac- complished more rapidly. Too little detail is afforded for each event to be a complete dramatic entity. The velocity of succession can only provide a fleeting remembrance of several important incidents in Christ's life, widely separated in historical time. The succession itself is not important; one event does not emanate from its immediate predecessor, nor is the quantity of time left undefined between scenes of importance. The significance of the entire group is that they occurred at all. Such episodes do not need detailed analysis by the dramatist. Temporal acceleration serves to focus attention on their cumulative effect. Each provides a clue to Jesus' subsequent behavior and especially His interaction with Mary Magdalene. It does not appear mere coincidence that, after the recapitulation of several actions (extended in objective, historical time over months or years) within sixteen verses, a scene of many remarkable qualities and of some length immediately follows, wherein succession is retarded. Increased interest and doctrinal sig- nificance result from the interplay of blinding acceleration and sudden retardation.84 Several modern literary theorists report that such a massive amount of time dramatized in the most foreshortened of ways presents no funda- mental difficulty for a bystander. Ferdinand Junghans may speak for them:. 102 Diese dramatische Zeiterstreckung' wird im aesthetischen Erlebnis annahernd so unauffallig, wie die wirkliche Zeit selber, wahrend derer wir als Erlebende im Parkett sitzen. In der Illusion der festgefugten, mitreiszenden, dramatischen Entwicklung verblaszt das angebliche Zeitmasz der Handlung augenscheinlich zu einer untergeordneten Zeitfunktion des Konstruktiven.85 The opening scenes of BenP, although encompassing a great quantity of historical time with large lacunae between speeches, do not by them- selves make the play any less dramatic than later counterparts which may concentrate action into several hours or moments. The result is merely distinctive and unusual. Most of the other sections of BenP show a fundamental acceleration of succession which originated in traditional biblical material. But when this author takes up the Crucifixion, an extended application of lyrical elements effectuates retardation and displays the potential to engage spectator interest. Marian laments form the core of such consideration.86 The action of the play can no longer be defined solely by succession, for it has reached an unavoidable climax; the Passion is realized. Time does not move forward with as much perceived speed as it did in earlier settings. Succession is no longer of compelling interest. Several lyrical elements retard the flow of represented time to the point of interrupting or suspending it completely. a) Temporal Parallelism The dramatic succession of time cannot be completely defined by an analysis of acceleration or retardation. Several instances can be cited where time is not only retarded, but recapitulated as well. There results a phenomenon called temporal parallelism. This happens when the artist exploits scenic parallels, reporting separate events as if they were temporally successive, but clearly indicating his g 103 intention that they be considered simultaneous in represented time, A sure indication of the playwright's manipulation of material in time ensues. Brinkmann has suggested that the application of temporal parallelism in medieval theater owes its genesis to the simultaneous stage, open to all Spectators on all sides. The possibility of Speaking and acting in one location, while the playgoers observed mimed activity in another, allowed two or more incidents previously 87 Thus, only presented in succession to be Shown at the same time. it can be seen that even the earliest Passions exploit the Simultaneous stage. The artist of Montecassino represents numerous activities simul— taneously. He presents Peter's denial within the identical represented time as the false witnesses against Jesus, perhaps located in the general vicinity of Caiaphas' domicile, but somewhat apart from the locus to which Jesus was taken.88 Through this technique the playwright is able to provide greater detail concerning events which are related and temporally coincidental. A similar ordeal in two locations leads to diametrically opposed results; Jesus accepts the slander, while Peter denies the truth. Peter's thrice-repeated denial, opposed to the commencement of the trials of his Master, simply, but eloquently, heightens the pathos and dramatic intensity of Christ's sorrow as the two scenes come together in the rubric: "Ad hec gallus cantet et Iesus ."89 The simple glance of the Savior towards a respiciat Petrum. failing disciple becomes a more significant gesture by means of the technique of parallelism. The resultant scene, Peter's lament, occurs coincidentally with Jesus' deliverance to Pilate and with Judas' 104 remorse,90 a curious triple-tiered parallel.91 In similar fashion, BenP organizes spatially separate scenes into temporally corresponding parallels. One of the most intriguing events connects the Redeemer's repast with Simon to the introduction of Mary Magdalene. The dramatization of the meeting between Simon and Jesus is interrupted in the text by the Magdalene's joyful "Mundi delectatio".92 Her entire subsection must be interpreted as filling part of represented time which was not dramatized in the immediately preceding section. For upon her conversion from the world by the angel's message and her subsequent searching out of her Lord, Mary is first informed that He graces the home of the pharisee.93 Proximate to her miraculous con- version, Mary visits the merchant a second time, now purchasing costly 4 She then immediately ointment with which to anoint her Master's head.9 proceeds to Simon's house where she interrupts the assembly, as is clear from the ensuing speeches. Simon protests that a prophet would have known her to be a sinner,95 whereupon Jesus utters the words: "Simon, habeo tibi aliquid dicere!"96 Textual evidence in the form of this statement and the identification of the man in question Show that the BenP author has ingeniously structured his message in represented time so as to take advantage of the reinstitution of separate scenes into their mutual consequence. The context of the raising of Lazarus accommodates yet another instance of a temporal parallel“ This example is less transparent than the first. Jesus is in the process of resuscitating Hi5 old friend. We discover that during his period of represented time98 Judas seeks 99 an opportunity to betray his Lord and indeed makes the fateful contact. Treason is set in motion, the sign of the betrayal kiss identified, and 105 the armed men get underway.. At the same interval it is reported: CWInterea.Iesus fhciat utnmos est in cena."100 There would seem to be an inherent incongruity in the playing of the Lazarus scene, the betrayal, and the inititation of the Last Supper Simultaneously. A logical ex- ' planation might be that a certain degree of recapitulation of represented time may have been demonstrated, but not a complete contemporaneity of action. Here, as in so many other instances, stage directions provide hints of the author's temporal conception, but do not reveal its entirety. It is indeed questionable that a live performance would adequately answer the question either, although some of the structural difficulties might be clarified if one could see a Simultaneous drama- tization unfold and observe the interaction between characters and groups. b) Interruptionland suspension In the first preserved Passion in Western Europe the phenomenon of an interruption of temporal motion occupies an unclear status. In Mbntecassino no indications were found to substantiate its appear- ance. Its nearest representative seems to be the diminutive three-line planctus of the Virgin. This, however, may well be more closely aligned with suspension as I have defined it. Although it cannot be exactly determined how effective the circumstance was from a theoretical stand- point due to the incompleteness of the text, this feeling of human grief and remembrance at the close of the Crucifixion101 may have halted represented time and drawn the audience into a greater psycho- logical participation. From the lament emerge two significant facts: the vernacular of the three lines is surrounded by Latin; the verses seem to have been 106 102 Use of the ver- sung chorally with the assistance of lay women. nacular at this point in the drama is critical, as is serves not only to underscore the significance of Mary's reaction to her Son's suffering, but also to isolate the thoughts linguistically from the remainder of the drama. Represented time is not interrupted by a character from the historical period of Christ's life so much as the spectators are drawn into momentary participation in represented time itself. The divisions between actor and spectator cease to exist. The chorus assumes, if only momentarily, the pain of Mary. Commemoration has moved from witness of performance to active participation; an emotional bond is thus temporarily created, suggesting in concrete terms the meaning of the Scriptures for twelfth-century religious man. The peculiar inclusion of vernacular German within the context of a Latin Passion produces an interesting theoretical potential for temporal interruption in BenP. As might be anticipated from the litur- gical origins of the play, figures whose characteristics generally emanate from the Bible consistently communicate in Latin. 0f the five characters who speak in the vernacular, Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Christ merit most attention.103 Interest in heightening spectator participation hypothesized for Mbntecaesinolo4 is sustained and expanded in BenP. When one analyses the contexts which include vernacular speeches, it becomes apparent that their presence is due to something more than strict translation of Latin verses: a dramatic strategyof greater preportions compounds an apparently simple, naive play. As Mary Magdalene's life unfolds on stage, she 105 a; voices her joy of living by singing secular lyrics, both in Latin nd German. 106 Though topically related, each linguistic statement stands 107 ~ alone. Latin words are more than embellishment and German verses more than easy recapitulation. Each statement adds a particular color to , Mary's character. Subsequent to her conversion, Mary's vernacular outpourings of mental grief and agony over her miserable status assume greater dramatic intensity for an audience whose native language is the same as that employed for her revelation. Mary summarizes her plight in Latin, beginning the "flea vita preterita, vita plena malts, "107 itself a powerful conceptualization of remorse. But as she approaches Jesus, seeking forgiveness, Mary's speech again moves into the ver- 108 A final restatement of Mary's deep regret concludes the 109 nacular. -vernacu1ar appearances. Through the inclusion of this lament the tempo of succession is so altered as to allow substantial spectator identification with Mary. Indeed, Steinbach perceives the words, Wilde, wave, daz ich ie mart geboren", as indicating the Magdalene's equation with the supreme symbol of mankind's lost condition and as a 110 Her representation of human hope and longing for deliverance. outcries, highlighted by their linguistic form, achieve dramatic intensity through their capacity to be comprehended and to contrast effectively with previous vernacular speeches wherein Mary's enjoyment of worldly pleasures was suggested. The Magdalene's former lust for life has been transformed into extreme chagrin. A suspension of dramatic succession allows immediate audience sympathy and identification; a bridge from represented historical time into that of the spectator has been created.111 Wilfried Werner sees a motivation lying deeper than a simple dramatic expansion of the Magdalene's character. He understands the worldly elements to be a warning to spectators of the threatening 108 dangers surrounding them and of their own sinfulness. Admonitions take on increased urgency and strength of conviction when couched in a language readily understood by all: Sie (die Sprache) ist einmal die Sprache der Welt und der Gottesferne und bildet damit einen Gegenpol zum sakralen Be- reich und sie ist zweitens die Sprache des erlosungs- bedurftigen Menschen, der sich aus dem Zustand der Sund— haftigkeit heraus an Gott wendet, von dem er Rettung erhofft. Das Wesen dieser neuen Beziehung zu Gott unterscheidet sich also von dem des religiosen Bewusztseins auf lateinisch- liturgischer Ebene. Das heiszt, die deutsche Sprache hat ihre Begrundung nicht darin, dasz sie lateinisch- liturgischen 1 Frommigkeitsgehalt weiteren Kreisen zuganglich machte - 12 Of even greater impact is the vernacular planctus uttered by the Virgin, which, like other laments, broadens and enhances its Latin 113 ° parent forms. Mary approaches the Crucifixion scene accompanied by John and immediately commences the moving German lament, ”Awe, awe e!"114 . .e . . . mach hzut unde immer w This separation of a desperate monolog of deep emotional impact from the following sequences, "FZete fideles anime",115 and "Planctus ante nescia", 116 draws attention to the scene, adding yet another opportunity for lyrical and emotional contact in the drama. The language in which Mary's lament near the Cross is communicated provides the context with a strongly personal experience, much as it did for the sections involving Mary Magdalene. A general human identification with both characters, which might have lost its intensity but for the vernacular language employed, is made possible. Though Mary's lament is in many respects only a ‘parsimonious outline of dramatic values associated with effective theatrical performance, there exists a lyric depth to it which makes its human responses stunning to even a twentieth-century reader. Medieval spectators must have'exper- ienced similar emotional reactions, being deeply moved, and through that 109 communication brought nearer their God.117 Vernacular language in a play where Latin abounds draws audiences more closely to the portrayed facts. Events assume a familiar quality, as dramatic time seems to momentarily halt its movement. It is also indicative of the developing tendency of artists to expand formal planctua forms in all languages into structures which increasingly rely on native tongues to make the compassio Mariae more responsive to human emotional stimuli. From this time forth Mary's laments will take on a depth of feeling radically different from the formality of previous centuries. I shall have more to say about the specific points of develop- ment in future paragraphs. When we consider suspension in Group I plays, the occasions when a dramatis persona drops completely out of the role of actress or actor to comment upon events, our attention is once again directed to the sequence of the Crucifixion. In the height of her lament, the Virgin delivers statements which in later plays are definitely identified with the act of dramatic suspension. Her words contain the hint of de- liberate temporary abolition of her role and the substitution of obser- vation on the Crucifixion procedings by a non-role playing person: lat iuch erbarmen, wip unde man! but iwer ougen sehen dar und nemt der marter rehte war!' (BenP 224—226) The suggestion is strong that the audience has been directly addressed, that the dramatic framework has been subtly compromised, the play now assuming something closely resembling a church service, as Mary urges spectators to share her suffering.118 110 The final outcry of the Savior from the cross, "E — Zy, E — Zy, lama eabactany, hoe eat Deua, Dena meua ut quid dereliquiati me?",119 appears to fill all the requirements of suspension. It contains a speech fellowed by narrative explanation of the meaning of the strange words. Fr. Schumacher, in his analysis of narrative elements in the Autun B Passion, makes a point of the early inclusion of narrative forms in the body of dramatic texts: "Les auteurs de quelque drames primitifs ont admis des gloses ou des indications scéniques dans le texte du .."120 He quotes the passage at the top of the page dialogue . from BenP’as evidence, and attempts to strengthen his case with the aid of Ben? 15 ("Rabi [quad interpretur magieter], peto, ut mecum hodie veZia mandacare"). In the instance of this Passion these sentences should not be relied upon to prove either early narrative inclusion by intent or to indicate meaningful structure. The first words are merely a direct quotation of Matthew xxvii: 46, and the latter closely resembles John i: 38 ("Rabbi [quad dicitur interpretatum Magister] . . ."). When one remembers that instances of scribal inattention may account for several apparent inconsistencies of dramatic construction within BenP,121 the inclusion of the lament of Christ on the Cross should not be ascribed to any real interest in creating suspense or introducing meaningful narrative.122 Both plays exhibit a structure of succession which, with the exception of the Magdalene's appearances and the less dramatic raising of Lazarus in BenP, procede relentlessly to the highpoint of our Lord's Passion. Indeed, Mbntecassino makes something of a virtue of its .skeletal form by swiftly moving from one event to another, not deliber— ating on motivation or character. Its succession drives towards Golgotha 111 without so much as a pause for even a scene of such doctrinal sig- nificance as the Last Supper. BenP'prefers another type of drama- tization. Although it, too, omits an extended presentation of the Pass- over meal, the writer chooses to dwell at length on Christ's teachings of repentance and forgiveness in the sequence of the Magdalene. Its succession is therefore slightly more determined in its gravitation towards Calvary. But the moments of lyrical lingering on Mary's character do not obviate the necessity of the Master's sacrifice; they only forestall it and increase its poignancy. DISCOURSE 0N MARY MAGDALENE Throughout the analysis of BenP thus far completed, the personality of Mary Magdalene has continually made its importance felt. I have identified numerous situations in which her activities, both prior and subsequent to her conversion, hint at the great significance she held for medieval man. The amount of presentational time in which this woman occupies center stage likewise seems to confirm a special authorial interest in her, for of the entire 289 verses, 107 of them are devoted in some way to the Magdalene. Questions inevitably arise as to what cultural and religious values may lie behind this dramatic concern and the answers can be found in the very nature of Mary Magdalene, as defined by centuries of inquisitive thought and doctrinal investigation by learned and devout men of the Church.123 For the Middle Ages the figure known as Mary Magdalene comprised a synthesis of three distinct biblical personalities, those of Mary of Magdala (sister of Martha and Lazarus), Mary of Bethany, and the woman 'who, in the company of the Virgin Mary, watched beneath the Cross , and 112 to whom the Risen Lord chose to first appear. All these persons were combined into one character with the aid of Luke's account of the sinful woman who anointed the Lord and washed His feet during the visit to Simon the Pharisee.124 Each of these personalities offered certain dramatic traits which could be exploited in many situations to varying degrees. The synthesis of personality provided the medieval dramatist with ample latitude to stress or concentrate upon what he wished to convey.125 As a result of the medieval understanding of Mary Magdalene the gates of strict spiritual and religious development of medieval drama were swung Open to admit numerous secular or profane sequences,126 which differentially affected not only the tone or the acceptance of the drama, but its central structure as well. One thought on the essence of life of medieval times drew our ancestors towards this child of the world, for in her they often saw themselves. Marie Bath reminds modern readers of the absolute dicotomy of religious thought during this period of history, when the world, things external, those realities of life this side of death, were to be utterly shunned and the eternal values of spiritual life and inner direction cultivated: Das Weltkind geht der Verdammung in der Hglle entgegen, das Gotteskind erwartet Seligkeit im Himmel. Aus dieser Lebens- anschauung heraus, verbunden mit den biblischen Traditionen und hineingetragen in sie wird dfig Behandlung der Maria~ Magdalenen-Scenen verstandlich. The character of the Magdelene is, thus, a peculiarly medieval phenomenon,128 originating in the early centuries of the period.129 A cult of Mary Magdalene appears as early as the sixth century in Ephesis.130 Prior to the period covered by Group I Passions the legend of the converted woman was disseminated throughout Christian Europe and ac- cepted as truth by the faithful,131 and theliturgy of July 22 set 113 132 aside for the saint's celebration. During the eleventh century the date assumed the status of‘a simple feast at Montecassino and at . . . . 133 numerous other Benedictine establishments in the same century. In Germany the presence of the Magdalen cult dates from the tenth century and expanded quickly after 1060.134 Her importance. attested by Church calendars and sanctuaries named in her honor, continued into the Holy Roman Empire,even during times of eclipse in France and England.135 In truth, within the years immediately surrounding the composition of BenP a new religious order, the Penitents of'Saint Mary Magdalene, established about 1225 in Hildesheim under the name of the heiszfrauen (known in later years in French-speaking territories as the Dames blanches)136 with the expressed intent of promoting the moral recovery of prostitutes,137 assured lasting influence of Mary's legend and concentration on her doctrinal importance, at least in the Empire. With all the attention to the formal qualities of her veneration, one should not overlook what in the saint spoke to medieval man. For it is not the ascetic life of Mary Magdalene to which she is alleged to have turned after her encounter with Christ which most interests and compells medieval piety, but the converted sinner, as Saxer succinctly argues: Ce n'est plus l'ermit qu'au XIIIe sibcle on vénerait dans les 'deserts' de des foréts, c'est la convertie et la pénitente donnée comme modele a celles qui précisement ont le plus bgfioin de penitence et de conversion, les femmes tombées. Thus is the amount of stage time devoted to this influential and sym- pathetic converted sinner not attributable to mere chance; her impor- tance for the tenor and structure of BenP seems to reflect her religious importance for medieVal man, particularly to German 114 clergy and laity. Mary Magdalene is indeed representative of all 139 converted sinners and the story of her forgiveness touched med- ieval spectators, making the injustice of the Crucifixion more intense. ANWTCJPMTTON OF THE FUTURE The second area of temporal structure in the drama focuses on the techniques whereby as yet unrealized events become integrated into the 'present' time of representation and how they suggest or even foretell the future, thereby creating that strange uneasiness which may build suspense in spectators. In this section I will deal with two interrelated, but distinct concepts, each of which has many individual facets to be enumerated in detail. To facilitate analysis, I employ a suggested contradistinction between two major technical groupings, those of declaration or notification (Ankundigung) and hints or intimations of things to come (Andeutung). To clarify: a declaration is delivered as a direct anticipation of or encroachment upon future happenings, whereas an intimation seldom takes any spoken form. As PUtz relates: "Sie (intimation) wendet sich nicht als Information an den Verstand, sondern als versteckter Hinweis an die Sensibilitat des Publikums."140 Declarative anticipation affords a clear outline of succeeding events; intimation only suggests, leaving the final picture of the future 41 Both elements develop as unavoidable shadowy and undefined.l consequences of dramatic endeavor, a variation in intensity and degree of application being the only factors separating one production from another. ,Both declaration and intimation exhibit forms or techniques which often evolve from the story itself, suggestions within the material 115 which are generally unavoidable. An example of formally-mandated technique in Passion plays is that of prophecy: it is an integral part .of the tale of Jesus Christ as preserved in the New Testament. If one is to remain faithful to that source, prophecies must become a portion of the play. Still other methods of evoking future structures' function solely in the realm of manipulation by the artist as he creates meaningful dramas beyond lis stipulated source material. Such techniques transcend. any story; in the form of monologs, prologs, or asides, to mention only three, an artist may make the dramatization his own, he may stamp it with his own particular understanding and relationship to his surroundings. We must, therefbre, consider not only those 'given' techniques of simple fidelity to religious tradition, but also those alternatives which lie totally within the domain of artistic and aesthetic formulation of the Passion. Proclaimed Occurrences Originating in the Material a) Announced arrivals One of the several techniques contained in the rubric proclaimed occurrence ("Ankandigendes Vorkommnis")142 which anticipates the future may be found in the announced arrival of a main figure.143 In this manner succeeding scenes wherein the person appears are anticipated and a certain capacity for suspense instituted. The degree of suspense depends largely upon how the proceding scenes relate to the main character's arrival. How will he be greeted? What plans do others have for him? Are the persons who announce his arrival friendly or hostile? What has characterized previous encounters between them? Is he in control of his own destiny? 116 Mbntecaasino provides us with an imperfect example of such anticipation. The arrival of Christ is not the main point of discussion as the play commences. However, the entire sequence of Judas' bargain presupposes the immediate appearance of the Lord, as much of the con- versation of Judas and Caiaphas concerns the Teacher's previous activi- ties. Bystanders are offered a generalized statement defining the Lord's character from Judas' point of view. Though this be true, the application of the technique must be viewed as a somewhat primitive instance emanating from the Passion material and its place in the Easter season rather than from any dramatic genius.144 Still, its presence reflects an early application of a technique which in later tales will grow to impressive proportions. As was the case in several areas of succession, a full measure of suspense initiated by a certain critical temporal distance between announcement and arrival does not exist. The inherent anticipatory power of this structural phenomenon has yet to be realized. These reflections find confirmation in BenP, where little evi- dence of this particular tool is found. A single example, the arrival of the Jewish pontifs, announced by the chorus, can be cited,145 one which accomplishes no more than introducing another group of players who have long since taken their positions on stage.146 Repetition of the situation described in Mbntecaesino becomes impossible, for Jesus initiates the play as He calls two disciples. No suspense through an introduction of Jesus by Judas can occur. b) Prophecy A powerful means by which to usher future events into the 'present' stage time comes to life in prophecy. Western readers are 117 accustomed to this phenomenon through Classical theater; they observe oracles, soothsayers, wise men and women, and even choruses voicing, often in puzzling form, specific portions of the future before they happen. Some- of the most effective and suspense-filled productions are results of masterfully organized anticipatory techniques developed by Greek writers. .Suspense arises from audience knowledge that an oracle may be misunderstood or that the entire process of unravelling fate may be interrupted by an entity whose existence is found beyond the control of mortal man. At the center of Christian belief lies the concept of Jesus' all- knowing and all-seeing nature. He perceived coming events, His own suffering and death among them, but held steadfastly to the predeter- mined wishes of His Father. Several instances of His awareness and vision-sharing with various biblical personalities compose an important portion of the New Testament records. This sort of future integration forms a significant part of most Passion plays as well. Perhaps the most meaningful variation of medieval drama from Greek plays is that religious minds of the Middle Ages knew the absolute accuracy of their Lord's prophecies, verified in Scripture. There arose little ambiguity of interpretation, as was often the case with the sacred oracles of Classical theater. Medieval audiences were able to anti- cipate the resolution of prophecies explained by Jesus in exactly the manner in which they were introduced, making useful dramatic application of the phenomenon more difficult. To find really effective application of this tool one must search extra-biblical additions to the Passions, .where new or altered situations give rise to novel characters and events not a part of the common religious knowledge of spectators. 118 With the widespread appearance of scriptural prophecy in mind, let us attend its application in the texts of Group I. At the outset of investigation a curious state of affairs arises. Mbntecassino exhibits both instances of prophecy. The first expression is a poetic restatement of Matthew xxvi: 64, Mark xiv: 62, and Luke xxii: 69.147 Christ's vision, though indicating the future to the high priests and more clearly defining His godly nature, offers little Opportunity for suspense, as its realization lies far beyond the confines of the Passion drama: [Quem vi]d[etis a]udien[tem] vos cernetie venientem etheris nubibus. Et videbitis sedentem [de]i filium potentem ad virtutia dexteram OMOntecassino 88-93) As in Scripture, the statement becomes the religious and legal hook upon which Jesus' fate is hung. Cries of blasphemy from Caiaphas exactly reproduce the reaction of his New Testament confrére. The same can be maintained of the second prophecy, that of Christ's promise to the good thief, a stanza which varies from biblical records only in minor alterations designed to afford expression in the rhythmic and metrical patterns of the verse ferm: Amen dico tibi latro mecum hodie in sacro paradisco veniens. (Montecassin0'315—317) In this instance the message closely approximates Luke xxiii: 45. Again, any striking or suspenseful effect is obviated by the fact that prophetic truth lies in the realm of faith, not drama. Both prophecies might be suggested through additional scenes tacked onto the plays, but 119 this would certainly detract from the presentation. The suffering of God's Son for mankind would not be made more touching or vital by such extentions. They would not fit the intention of the author nor pro- bably even occur to him as necessary. When an explanation for the paucity of primary anticipatory forms is sought, one inevitably must focus on the amount of material offered in presentation and its means of dramatization in both Passions. The scope of Montecassino is restricted to the events immediately surround- ing the Passion proper; little by way of secondary dramatization is included. Scripture provides four instances of prophecy by Christ from the time between Judas' bargain and the Crucifixion. Supplemental to the two prophecies discussed above are those of Jesus' message to Peter relating the disciple's denial and the crowing cock (Mark xiv: 72 and Luke xxii: 34), followed by His warning of impending disaster to the women of Jerusalem (Luke xxiii: 29). 0f the four visions, only that of the crowing of the cock is resolved within the confines of the Passion. Even this example is reported by Mark in epic fashion.148 The second resolution of the words develops from the Last Supper, a sequence pre- ceding the onset of dramatization in Montecassino. Mark's placement of the prophecy in an epic framework makes its effective application to dramatic circumstances difficult, as the force of Peter's denial would surely lose much of its power upon insertion of a narrative element. Peter is instead called to remembrance by his Savior's doleful glance and the audience could well be counted upon to also make the connection. Thus the absence of several expected instances of prophecy in Montecassino seems to be a function of its preserved scope, of its concentration on the time of the Passion itselffl Much the same can be said 120 of BenP, although here the absence of dramatic prophecy, of even those visions declared by Scripture, is probably intentional. The scope of Ben? is broad enough to admit all meaningful prophecies. However, given the highlighting effect of the opening lines and the rapid movement from one doctrinal link to its adjoining notion, no time remains to involve prophecy without significantly altering the redemptive idea behind the final form. The author's intention seems to have been doctrinally rather than dramatically disposed. c) Oaths Of analogous structural function with prophecy is the oath. Their divergence rests in the human elements present in the oath, one which is non-critical in prophecy. No serious spectator doubts the outcome of a sacred prophecy once the veracity of its source is established. But when an oath is entered into, the possibility exists that the person swearing it may not have sufficient strength or fortitude to see it to conclusion. The final resolution is thus cast into doubt, creating an opportunity for the author to concentrate reader or spectator attention on the process evolving from the oath. The swearing of revenge, an oath most prevalent in medieval Passions, causes the character making it to review previous circumstances which have cul- . . . . l minated in the oath as well as to anticipate the future. 49 In previous discussion of dramatic succession in Montecassino, the pivotal structural position occupied by Judas' initial bargain was identified.150 Not only do the words create succession, they also make inevitable the coming betrayal and integrate it into the dramatic 'present'. Spectators receive an open declaration of Judas' intent to 121 sell his Lord. Those horrible actions perpetrated by Christ which preceded Judas' promise, "Tradam vobis ipsum vere", are left undefined, 51 In Montecassino the oath is their existence only vaguely hinted.l strengthened by the willing participation of the high priests. Thus, not a single individual, but a group of co-conspirators defines the force opposing the Redeemer. The sole factor yet to be established is the manner in which the oaths will be accomplished. The companion scene in Ben?152 lacks much of the dramatic impact so obvious in Montecassino, for the anterior factors causing Judas' oath are completely lacking. In similar fashion the dramatic force of the future lessens with the position of the bargain in the larger textual structure. There appears little action of significance to separate the oath from its realization; no time is allowed to pass before this particular future event becomes reality. Both renditions pass mutely over the potential for the sequence of the Last Supper to integrate hints of the future and effect suspense. One of the most forceful oaths contained in Scripture binds the zealous and confident Peter to his Savior's fate, as the fisherman swears unyielding fidelity: "etsi oportuerit me simul commori tibi, non te 153 negabo.” These words, spoken with such conviction, prove too over- whelming for Peter to manage; they underscore man's spiritual frailty. BenP does include at least a mimed meal, though without any apparent dialog.154 As in the case of prophecy, the appearances of oaths which herald coming events is determined by the source of dramatized material and not yet by the playwright.155 122 Forms of’Proclamation EManating from Structure To this point our interest has concentrated on developments within the plot of the Passion which provide glimpses into the future. Although several supplotory methods of foreseeing and reporting yet unrepresented incidents exist, I have investigated only those of import for Group If Other possibilities will be introduced, documented, and analyzed as they appear. I now turn my attention to individual techniques supplied by the dramatist. When we consider the various methods of proclaiming the future, our interest is necessarily compelled to deal with Specific forms of notification ("Formen der Ankiindigung")156 by which a playwright structures not his tale, but its delivery. These phenomena are characterized by methods of presenting facts to spectators such as monologs, asides, prologs, direct addresses to the public, and the closing remarks of acts. The latter will, naturally, not come into effect until the advent of longer plays. I have moved the analysis of direct address to sections concerning interruption and suspension where its dramatic and theoretical potential becomes more understandable. The remaining techniques concentrate on individual speeches by characters who employ dramatic forms of notification in preference to those stress- ing verisimilitude. Such strategies allow the dramatist some flex- ibility in realizing the innermost cerebral processes of his characters which epic artists most often take for granted. A playwright who widely adopts techniques from this category concentrates on the con- scious creation of dramatic bridges between spectator and represented character, for these opportunities find their value in the premeditated desire to dramatically solicit audience reactions which otherwise 123 might be lost or inactive. It is significant for the probable intent of Group I texts and their cultural and religious environment that, with the exception of those conceivable illustrations from BenP of Mary Magdalene's direct address to the audience,157 and the Virgin's call to spectators to see her martyred Son,158 these specifically dramatic forms find no general application in either Montecassino or BenP. The conclusion that the texts were not primarily designed as dramatic productions but as specimen of commemorative messages employing certain dramatic tendencies seems inevitable. The alternative suggestion that these plays were simply too primitive to support the application of singularly creative 159 is unfounded, especially when the active participation of so forms many other dramatic facets can be determined. The impelling nature of the original material is merely exploited in unfamiliar ways and far reasons which respond to an intention not solicitous of such tools. Intimated Occurrences Originating in the Material Hints of coming events may also be arranged into those indicative of plot-imminent occurrences and those which allow the artist greater freedom of expression and management. The forms of intimation, as did those of notification, draw attention to specific mechanisms which the author may manipulate beyond the mandates of his sources. Though the atmosphere of a play, for example, may be established by plot material, the particular forms an author chooses to enhance it, such as stage props, meaningful noises, gestures, silence, lyric inclusions (which I have considered under the tempo of’succession), character resemblance and contrast, all lie in the realm of authorial disgression. 124 Artists will approach their application from various angles and will choose those techniques which best complement their individual desires for the work. In many instances, as a result of the vicissitudes of textual preservation, of the lack of meaningful directions, or of our own imperfect knowledge about props and gestures (especially those ex- pressing well-known symbolic meanings) this potentially exciting cate- gory proves to be of lesser value for medieval Passions than for modern plays. a) Time consciousness Lively presentations normally provide multitudinous intimations of things to come. A category which concentrates on a character's psychological relationship to past and future modes of time is a temporal consciousness. Putz identifies five modalities which approach such concerns: 1) The general and relentless movement of time forward; 2) the burden of past activities; 3)incapacity before the future; 4) the determined approach of an event; 5) the problem of seizing the appropriate moment.160 In the Gospels one discovers a clear combination of 2) and 3) in the person of Judas. This wayward disciple reflects upon his treason and attempts to rectify it by the repayment of his blood money. He realizes that he cannot alter history and he cannot halt the natural flow of events which he has initiated; once Judas has set the wheels of treason in motion, he cannot interfere with the pure movement of time forward. With this realization that he has ceased to cause events to happen comes Judas' remorse and subsequent suicide. In the words of 98:2: "Das Bewusztsein der Ohnmacht gegenuber der Vergangenheit (ist) zu einer Andeutung kommenden Unheils (geworden)."161 125 The sequence involving the repentant Judas in Montecassino, who seeks to alter history,162 transmits little dramatic creativity and suspense beyond its biblical origin. Were the audience less familiar with the doctrinal necessity or the inevitable outcome of Judas' act, it might sense something of Jesus' future as the priests coldly refuse to consider the traitor's pleas. They might suspect that the Son's fate were sealed and perhaps fear for His safety. As has already been shown, this sample of future anticipation cannot truly hope to initiate sig- nificant suspense because of its origin and unadorned appearance. There looms a second fact, that of the place of presentation. To believe that religious monks were unfamiliar with every nuance of the play and every intention behind it, especially that of commemoration of the Passion and Resurrection, is to completely misunderstand the very heart of medieval spirituality. Judas' recognition of the inviability of time, as we of the twentieth century conceive it, is simply stated, not one of the active forces behind Montecassino. The second member of Group I exhibits a similar situation when it deals with Judas' remorse. The confrontation of Judas with Caiaphas is similarly paraphrased source material. Judas' recognition of the final outcome he has prepared for Christ, as it relates to dramatic time, remains a calculation somewhat forced in its application to Group I plays. We present-day scholars may perceive the theoretical points of reference behind the sequence, but it is certain that medieval audiences were drawn to other, more immediate and transparent qualities of the Passion. 126 b) Mbod Yet another means by which the future is intimated involves an area of some analytic difficulty. I speak of the mood of a play. Since the identical atmosphere of medieval dramas cannot be achieved, due in part to differences of religious orientation and world outlook, we must rely on our own reactions to the texts for direction. Thus it must be conceded that these two earliest Passions, where the promise of dramatic potential is more hinted than exploited, do not plumb the depths of creativity. And the reason again seems to be the particular nature of the presentation augmented by its commemorative orientation. However, one juncture of Montecassino does allow for a creative combination of fear of an anticipated outcome and a hope of averting it. These two concerns, acting upon one another, often serve to portend some ulterior event: "In ihren Angst greifen die Bahnenfiguren auf eine unliebsame Zukunft voraus; auf eine bessere warten sic in ihrer Hoff; "163 nung. It is the service of the Cassinese author that we experience a noteworthy moment of heightened suspense resulting from the dramatic- ally advantageous inclusion of Uaor's dream. In this scene a skillful juxtaposition of a feared outcome of the future of Christ with a desired, and indeed expected conclusion of the trial is manipulated. With the aid of Satan's intervention through a troubling dream (though the author does not specify the selfish motivation of diabolus as later accounts do) 030? is afforded a glimpse into the ultimate disposition of Jesus. Her fears for her husband are put into uncomfortably clear focus; she must hastily act to alter the vision. Concomitant with Uaorfisagitation is a momentarily heightened anxiety which transforms 127 itself into malaise, a deeply-felt discomfort, as she learns of the probable outcome of the Lord's trial. For umor, the errand of warning undertaken by her handmaiden to her governor-husband seems to minimize, even eliminate, the need for fear. Her prayer of gratitude, apparently offered to the Christian god, verbalizes her hope and conviction that the future has indeed been mastered and all opportunity for evil negated: [Nlomen dbmini laudetur quia non inficietur presles iustlo sangu[ine]. 0Montecassino 223—225) What cannot be comprehended by Omar, but is obvious to audiences, is the irony of the entire dream episode. She does not know the origin of the vision, nor of its instigation in the final frenzied efforts by diabolus to preserve his kingdom. She cannot, as a mere character, realize the degree to which both her efforts and those of Pilate will go unfulfilled because of the essentiality of the redemptive act. The dramatic mood of BenP offers many qualitative as well as analytical difficulties, for, contrary to Montecassino, there appear few encounters which show the inclusion of elements of fear based upon perceived future events as compared with the hope to alter them. Perhaps the only representative example of these combined forces in action are seen as Mary Magdalene realizes the error of her life and 164 Certainly her cries are motivated laments, "Heu, vita preterita". by a fear that she is a lost soul. The words themselves turn our attention to the occasions in her past life. The fear of future damnation is strongly hinted. Perhaps it even forms an unconscious layer of sentiment underlying the entire scene, but the fear is not 128 spoken aloud as it was in.Mbntecassino. Similarly, the hope for a remedy which might modify the hinted and perceived future originates not with Mary, but with the angel's message.165 The seed of hope is planted in the sinner's breast and she proceeds immediately to implement the new possibility. With fervor she shuns her old vestments for 166 more appropriate black robes; her former lovers she forsakes ("protinus a me fugite, turpes amatores");167 the act of penitence she undertakes by hurrying to the merchant to purchase a precious oint- 168 Mary's ment, still lamenting, "lieu quantus est noster dolor!" hope is further strengthened by her admission of guilt and plea for forgiveness: Jesus, troest der sele min, la mich dir enpholhen sin, unde loese mich von der missetat, da mich deu werlt sun hat braht: (BenP 95-98) Jesus removes the woman's guilt, but it appears that her act of faith far overshadows Mary's repentance, for it is reported: "Mulier, remittuntur tibi peccata! Fides tua salvam te f’ecit."169 c) Dreams Uxor's place in the drama of Montecassino opens another technical area to exploitation, that of the dream. Most of the important ele- ments which dreams bring to preceptive structure have been identified. It remains only to underline one or two theoretical points concerning the dream as it relates to hints of the future. The dream of Pilate's wife occupies a position of great importance in Passion plays, for it exemplifies one of the two major usages of this technique of portending coming events. A dream may either display the 129 true reality of as yet unrealized times or it may be manipulated by deceptive forces to confuse or to tempt. In the instance of religious theater of the Middle Ages, dreams faithfully reproduce a true state of affairs: these truths lie somewhere in the future, but are pre- cisely detailed in the dream before their reality comes to life.”0 Dramatically speaking, the Cassinese playwright has worked out a marvelous little scene, replete with a momentary interruption of events as they rush toward their conclusion and with a sound co- mingling of fear ironically turned to hope. In this extra-biblical material we have a potential for efficaceous application of suspense through atmosphere. We may argue the conscious use of theoretical structures in Mbntecassino but we cannot deny the author his due for exploiting inherent dramatic powers contained in dreams. And the in- clusion is particularly intriguing because it reveals a splendid sacred irony of man's attempts to contain divine providence: the irony of the dream and Ubor's well-intentioned attempt to alter the future she sees is that both her fear and hope are ill-founded. The process of salvation will take its course despite man's intervention. The status of the dream in BenP is dramatically less than for its predecessor. Uxor's vision is not a part of its structure. We must again search the sequences involving the Magdalene to discover even a marginal example. The angel's thrice-repeated message to Mary, though necessitating three unlikely periods of sleep during the time the Christ visits Simon, provides a hint of things to come if Mary will only heed the call. The angel not only reports the Lord's mission on earth (”qui relaxat peccata populi!/hunc turbe confitentur salvatorem 171 seculi"), but further shows Mary the presence of her Master at the ’V 130 pharisee's home.172 Thus the dream is not strictly limited to revelation of the future, but also to indications of parallel states of affairs. However, the impact on the spectators which results from the atmosphere of this scene does not seem to possess as much potential as the dream in Montecassino. Forms of'Intimation Emanating from Structure When attention is focused on the forms of intimation which may be exploited by artists to structure their deliveries, yet another in- dication of the peculiar origin and design of medieval Passions comes to light. The incompleteness of our knowledge about the specific characteristics of each stage setting as well as exact infermation dealing with possible artistic interpretation of standard gestures accompanying certain portions of the plays does not simplify the task. Although we cannot completely reconstruct the ancillary techniques of medieval drama, a dim outline of what such presentations might have been like can be constructed from records of performances of several music- dramas prior to and contemporary with our Group I texts. In this con- text is is useful to briefly consider the findings of Fletcher Collins. DISCOURSE ON CONVENTIONS 0F EARLY STAGES In his investigation of sixteen medieval music-dramas, Collins researches the presentational aspects of the plays, concentrating on areas such as characterization, movement and gesture, costuming, 11ghting, staging, makeup, properties and furnishings, and so forth. From his work comes the observation that movement and gesture of the earliest medieval church dramas were "formal and sustained, much as we find it in the Japanese n5 dramas and in the vase illustrations of 131 Greek plays."173 Though one distinguish a formal quality about gesture and movement in medieval theater, perhaps due in part to the tone of the dramatized material174 as well as to its place of presentation, there was no traditional style of representation except that provided by the "customary verve and elegance of monastic performances of the Mass and canonical offices."17S Since several of these texts occur either slightly before or simultaneous with the two Passions under discussion, and since both forms originate in the same spiritual tenor and background, a similarity of acting styles for both can be assumed. This intimates the assertion that, for purposes of analyzing the effects of gesture and movement upon suspensful anticipation of the future, these qualities show little dramatic power at this period of Passion development. Furthermore, the theatrical impact. of the stage setting is a matter of some question. For the entire medieval period few stage plans have been preserved. Those which have survived the ravages of time and cul- tural upheavals afford limited insight into possible early stage set— tings and we are unable to deduce much concerning the general efficacy of several backdrops or other props. And yet we cannot state with all certainty that the stage appeared a particular way with the relationships of many sedes and loca always preserved in the same manner as some of our texts indicate. Group I texts are likely to have been staged either within the walls of the monastery of Montecassino, or possibly outside the church for BenP.176 Several logical possibilities of equating various required locations of Montecassino can be suggested by known areas employed in earlier dramas presented within the confines 132 of the Church itself. A thorough discussion of them lies outside the boundaries of this investigation. It will suffice to observe that the stage plan for Group I texts, because of its well-established identi- fication of specific actions with areas of the Church shared with weekly services, Easter functions, and daily devotional hours, suggests a commonly-accepted setting wherein few, if any, manipulations would create spectator anxiety. However, it must be reiterated that this handicap is of our own making and not of medieval playwrights. The stage plan is not yet of value for its own sake. a) Silence Of the many methods whereby an artist may convey future events by intimation,that of a willed silence by a character produces moments of heightened awareness. At appropriate intervals during a scene such lack of desire to communicate may create an emotional discomfort in bystanders which makes itself known not as massive feelings of hope- lessness or perhaps even fear, but rather as a vague, hardly defineable, continually growing uneasiness. Silence best fulfills the function of intimation when it becomes concealment: the conscious and willing suppression of particular emotions or thoughts makes one especially curious about them.177 Mbntecassino employs the two instances of Jesus' silence in the face of accusation reported in Matthew and Mark.178 BenP includes the second instance,179 broadening it to an ancillary argument during Pilate's interrogation.180 Additionally, the Teacher of BenP maintains 181 the silence before Herod and his court attested by St. Luke. The Innocent's calm demeanor contrasts markedly with the rancorous noise 133 of hostile voices around Him,182 isolating the character from his surroundings and lending strength to his appearance.183 To function as intimation, silence must be interpreted not only as pure silence, but its temporal factors must also be considered. Two separate time spans interact to determine its intimative nature, the past and the future: "Es ist schon etwas mitgeteilt, ngmlich dasz etwas verheimlicht wird, und es ist noch offen, was unausgesprochen bleibt."184 Christ's silence in response to Caiaphas' demands, to Herod's questions, to Pilate's attempts to define His higher nature for himself, rests on His previous living testimony. Of greater interest for us is why the Lord stands mute in the two texts. A possible answer lies beyond the realm of mere dramatizatiOn; the biblical story directs our attention to the deeper meaning of the Master's silence under attack. Rosemarie Magnus comments: Die angedeutete Spgrlichkeit der Verhandlungsszenen besitzt gerade in dem, was sie verschweigt, eine unverkennbare Aus- sagekraft: Christus, der Herr und Konig, gibt sich frei- willig in die Gefangenschaft und erteilt selbst seinen Verurteilern die Macht, ihn zu toten, weil er, aus den Quellen seiner Barmherzigkeit schopfend, die Welt von der Knechtschaft der Sunde befreien will. A freely-offered sacrifice, made in humility, emphasizes Christ's actions. Words will neither save His human frame nor convince His adversaries at this point, as He states in Luke xxii: 67-68.186 What remains is silence and its larger significance is not lost on an attentive audience. The unspoken words define the whole of Christian thought. 134 b) Music Of the remaining theoretical potentials which may be included under forms of intimation, only one is partially operative in the definition of anticipation. Another technique, that of singing, seems at first to also be a factor. Certainly the inclusion of songs within the general story line may give rise to anticipatory forms. Questions involving the person delivering the song and where the lyrical inter- .ruption occurs can be decisive factors in the precipitation of events.187 While this is doubtless a valid observation for Passions of the four- teenth and fifteenth centuries, the fact that the Montecassino and Bene- diktbeuern texts were sung in their entirety significantly reduces the analytical value of the concept. A production wherein all verses are sung can only differentiate either between religious and secular melodies or along linguistic avenues. I have previously dealt with the possible reasons fer inclusion of vernacular songs in Ben? and their probably effects on spectators.188 The lyrical vernacular in Monte- cassino is so brief that no adequate assumptions can be drawn from it. There remains the entity by which many forms of music were communicated: the chorus. The chorus was one of the traditional elements of theater designed to epically comment on or foreshadow events of the future. Although its application in theater was greatly diversified at an early date in Greek drama, it remained one of the most potent voices of impending peril in other theaters as well. It also served to establish distance from emotional scenes and to objectively comment on witnessed situations. ,From its distinctive plot-external position the chorus is able to pro- vide hint of that which is to come. A chorus, when meaningfully 135 integrated into the drama, normally does not lay bare all future happenings or negate them; rather it reasons about the openness of the future and presages alternatives.189 The origin of Passion plays in the liturgy and within the frame- work of the Christian religion weakens somewhat the ability of the chorus to effectuate suspense through intimation, as much of the flow of the story is already known. Nevertheless, there exists an area in the Passion inhabited by the chorus which is controlled by the writer alone, who may choose the proper time for its integration and decide the words which will be sung. Mbntecassino contains no speeches by a chorus. Those of BenP do little to intimate the future. They serve mostly an epic function, reporting events, not hinting their imminence nor commenting on them in any depth. RECOVERY OF THE PAST All drama, by virtue of its selective—exclusive character, relates events deemed most important by its author. There inevitably remain several facts which are not presented, but which either more clearly define circumstances which culminate in the dramatized scenes or cast an epic light on previous encounters.190 A playwright may affect the artistic form of his product by availing himself of numerous techniques which allow him to concentrate spectator attention upon crucial ele- ments of his chosen tale, while simultaneously giving him latitude to broaden the impact of presented scenes by epically exploring their origins and repercussions. A measure of a poet's command of material and medium can be had by observing the manner and degree to which he 136 avoids dramatically unproductive parts of his tale, but still incor- porates them through epic presentation to flesh out the necessary motivational and causative factors which make for impressive productions. A curious quality of recourse to the past in drama is that, although the dramatist concentrates on an action previous to his 'present' state of affairs, he employs that remembrance to prepare anticipation.191 Momentary movement into history may have the effect of injecting a renewed impetus and motion into a slowed action; it may begin a process of recognition, or perhaps even provide insights into individual characters, thereby psychologically preparing their reactions.192 For purposes of clarity one must reduce the general rubric recourse to the past into its two main quantities, retrieval of events previous to the onset of dramatic activity ("nachgeholte Vorgeschichte")193 and the retrieval of events within the duration of staged time ("nachgeholte Dramenhandlung").194 Circumstances which find their being in a time prior to the onset of dramatization will be integrated into the 'present' time in a manner which prepares future action. Those which occur during staged activity serve primarily to add breadth and detail to the drama or to call a particularly prominent event to mind again, thus impart- ing a noteworthy intensity to it. The importance of past happenings for 'present', staged, or impend- ing time varies with the dramatist's intention.195 They can so dominate the story that dramatization becomes purely analysis of events leading to presented action; they may conversely play such a minimal role that all possibilities of action remain open to all persons. The Passion of Jesus Christ, as reported in the New Testament, is seen as the fulfillment of a long line of prophecies and promises, and as 137 such may be interpreted as drastically reducing the possible alter- natives of response by dramatic figures. In this way the Passion shares much motivational and structural qualities of the ,Schicksals- drama'. The requisites of the traditional story notwithstanding, Passion plays approach the integration of these previous hints with much diversity. All still contain the intimation of willing sacrifice on the part of the Savior, but some develop this idea more than others. Despite the accepted necessity of the final sacrifice by Jesus, each dramatist assembles past facts differently, laying weight upon varied developments. Few medieval dramatists conceive the Passion as mere analysis of pre-existing biblical exegencies. In spite of the restrictive affects of the tale, some authors find remarkable latitude when dealing with the past, its influence on the present and, more to the point, its bearing on the future. Events Previous to the Onset of Drcvnatization Of the several means of exploiting past incidents in Group I Passions, few are realized. Though their appearances are limited, they provide us with a glimpse of their power and structural potential. Even in infancy, these circumstances which involve the past as it helps to form the future play a decisive role in the plays. a) Remembrance One manner in which preceeding situations find a voice in dramas is through the perspective of remembrance. For Group I texts the pri- mary application involves recalling to mind by a character of a specific act, normally attributed to the Man of Galilee, which bears on staged circumstances. 138 Montecassino depicts Judas as he seeks aid from the Jewish high priests. In his report to Caiaphas, Judas elucidates the state of affairs as it now stands: Jesus has undermined the power of the priests. He includes, however, no particular doings of Christ which make Him dangerous, only that "Multos nostrum iam seduxit/in errorem quos per- 196 ' . . . . . . The exact acts, their time of commiSSion and severity lie duxit." completely outside the realm of staged reality, but serve still to set the betrayal in motion, giving a vague illumination to the events which motivate Judas. A second, more definite detail from the past surfaces as the Son stands before His accusers in the hall of Caiaphas. The witnesses report: [Templum] dei d[est]r[uc]turus [h]ic predixit et facturum se.fOre post triduum (Montecassino 78-80) Our dramaturge has taken a portion of the biblical record and incor— porated it with scant alteration. Its dramatic significance lies in the expanded scope of the scene in which it appears, accomplished with— out resort to dramatization of minimally important elements. We learn from this epic inclusion that the God-Man at some previous time has offended high ranking officials with His openly inflammatory and threatening statements. They are the initial causes for the Lord's arrest as one engaging in seditions acts against established Jewish authority. This epic line not only defines a small portion of a present situation, its appearance actually prepares imminent events by the Christ's refusal to take an adversary position against the priests. 197 Caiaphas is quick to believe the worst, and his response to this man's silence, “Per [dleum te coniuramus/tibi [et int]er[ro]gamus/si 139 sis dei f’ilius",198 prepares the positive answer which sends the priest 199 200 into a rage and effectively seals the Nazarene's fate. The same report concerning Christ's candid statements in the temple are found in BenP.201 Its impact is lessened,since it finds a place before Pilate and elicits little emotion. Indeed, as a result of the extensive scope of BenP, the actual time in the temple is included in represented time, but not dramatized. The net effect of the accusation is to initiate the trial against Jesus by epically relating to Pilate one circumstance from His near past. b) Trials Of the numerous capacities whereby anterior activities receive added weight and artistic value one finds in all Passions that situation which calls forth former days and events by relating them to present circumstances: I speak of the trial. As is the case with few other techniques, the dialog structure of a trial, of premise and replication, of accusation and defense, serves to review history, that which has been dramatized as well as these incidents tangential to main occurrences, and makes these previous facts relevant.202 The opposition of two competing forces has the further capacity to cause suspense by contin- ually focusing attention on the resolution of the conflict which lies in some distant future time.203 In every instance, each playwright concentrates not so much on the trial per se, but on the entire judicial process itself.204 All Passion authors, though employing varied techniques, deal in some way with the injustice of the trial, taking issue not only with the weakness of the case against Christ, but also with the enervation or immorality 140 of the judge (hence of the entire procedure). Indeed, in a much later Passion, the authors of Towneley make a willfully corrupt official the main opposition of Jesus. Since the trial sequence contains many of the most central themes of the Passion which relate to the redemptive process, its ferceful juxtaposition of Christ and His benefactors against His malefactors, its review of the most significant incidents from His ministry allied with the distrust and hatred of Jesus,leads to the inevitable inclusion of the trial in any Passion dramatization. The process of condemnation forms the one action of the story which cannot adequately be fathomed by mere epic narration. The degree of integration of the past and the intensity of spectator interest and suspense appear to be the only variables affecting this episode. These qualities will be determined by the overall tone of the individual play and the larger intention of the author. Mbntecassino and BenP resemble one another in tone of presentation. Both are substantially symbolic presentations, BenP more so than its earlier relative. The trial scene of Montecassino represents a faith- ful model of Scripture, with the addition of Uaor's dream from apochry- phal sources. One finds the normal questioning by Pilate, followed by silence or by short, humble responses from Christ, as set forth in 2 . . the GOSpels. 05 The few reverSions to anterior events are seen when I O O O 20 the soldiers commence the case, stating, "Nam se dixit regem [esse]", 6 and equate this with an act against Caesar worthy of death.207 Pilate is pictured as a rather'Vacillating official, loathe to condemn this man of few words and impressive silence, but unable to defy the wishes 141 of the priests and their followers. His basic benevolence towards Jesus is shown by his response to his wife's pleas to treat the Prisoner justly, but the situation soon eludes his control. BenP includes only the report concerning the destruction and renewal of the temple in its highly-stylized and symbolic trial. Scripture provides most of the necessary dialog and development. _Again, we discover the seeds of profitable anticipation to be sown in a modest manner, but one in keeping with the intention the plays may have had. Modern readers may question the validity of such scenes on stage, but they must be reminded that what we have come to regard as uninterest- ing reproductionsof biblical source material is not only in keeping with the spirit of the author, but also of his audiences. Such present- ations faithfully reflect their liturgical origins. In response to earlier criticism by two well-known German medievalists, Rosemarie Magnus has provided us with a reminder: Einmal bestehen die gemeinten Szenen nicht nur aus dialog- isierten Bibelstellen, zum anderen berechtigt eine Herkunft aus Bibel und Liturgie nicht, den Betreffenden Szenen weniger Beachtung fiu schenken, zumal geistliches Spiel in diesen beiden Spharen seine wichtigsten Grundlagen besitzt. Auf die Analyse des Wie der dramatischen Gestaltung der religiosen Wahrheit kommt es an, und dabei bildet die liturgisch- stilisierende Gestaltung eine durchaus vollgultige und hoch zu wertende. 208 The gradual weakening of auditors' linguistic capabilities, an ever- increasing interest in purely dramatic characteristics of play production, combined with the subtle alteration of the contemporary religious atmosphere,comprise the forces which gradually augment scenes such as the trials with more lively and expanded presentation and make them, in our eyes, more than merely interesting; a process of dramatic self-realization which expands far outside the confines of pure 142 didacticism or commemoration will drastically influence the trial sequences of later plays. They will increase the detail surrounding the basic fact of the trial and make it more vivid. But to audiences of this period, people who were integrated into liturgical celebrations of which these two Passions were a portion, there existed scant need nor even a desire to extend them any further than symbolic represent- ations of the trial. In this context we must nonetheless acknowledge a second time the increased quality of anticipation which may have been produced by the dream of Pilate's wife in Montecassino. Erpositional Forms of’Remembrance We have seen how several established and essential sections of the story of the Good Shepherd's sacrifice for mankind elicit or reveal a capacity to elicit on-looker interest or apprehension. Many other elements which may be employed to structure the mandated historical facts into dialog are also controlled by the dramatist. The most spectacular tool at the disposal of writers is that of exposition. Whereas certain statements which refer to Christ's activities are uncontrollably furnished by Scripture or centuries of traditional thought, the method by which a playwright includes them as well as that point at which he incorporates them will have an intensifying or debilitating effect on his finished product. This flexibility within generally-eStablished boundaries was noted during the analysis of plot- induced time structures.209 Attention i51unv directed to the expositional means available to a dramatist which allow him to incorporate essential or clarifying secondary elements bearing on the Passion. Two of the organizational strategies derive their potential from narrated forms, 143 while a third lends dramatized support to coming activities. The three distinct methods of relating secondary or past events to intensify stage production may be called narrated pre-history ("erzghlte Vorgeschichte”), pre-history as a present circumstance ("Vorgeschichte als Zustand"), and dramatized pre-history ("dramatizierte Vorgeschichte").210 Forms of exposition differ from remembrances inasmuch as they ad- dress themselves to information which defines the onset of a play, whereas recollection involves individual reactions to specific events within the exposition. Pre-history normally elucidates an entire series of situations which result in the specific chronology of the events portrayed on stage; it shows what facts lead to the inception of dramatic activity and thereby fills informational-expositional gaps for spectators. Remembrance finds its most effective application in the establishment of internal relationships between figures and unique happenings, lending vitality and a certain degree of psycho- logical realism to the inner structure of plays. a) Narrated Pre-history Narrated pre-history comprises the most transparent manner of reporting activities prior to the inception of dramatization. It is defined solely in terms of a unique happening or a series of them as they relate to a particular situation which occurs on stage. The dramatic medium may be an introductory prolog delivered by a character existing outside the temporal boundaries of the play, as we shall discover with figures like Augustinus and Proklamator in later works. Their function is to formally introduce developments which precede the commencement of activity, to cast explanatory illumination upon the necessity of the action or to explain why it is worthy of presentation. Stress is laid 144 upon the reported activity as history. The primary tempus of interest for narrated pre-history is the past tense, but information thus shared is always subsumed into the exegencies of the dramatic 'present'. During several close readings of both Montecassino and BenP, I have found no evidence of narrated pre-history. This situation is most likely the result of cultural surroundings and the proximity of both texts to liturgical celebration. There has not yet been any real attempt to exploit the specifically dramatic orientations of this type of epic inclusion. b) Pre—history as a Present Circumstance The pre-history of a dramatic activity can be deduced from present states of affairs or it may be reported in numerous phases, the cumu- lative effect ultimately determining the situation. Bits and pieces of relevant information pointing towards portrayed events flesh out spectator knowledge, affording lfimlinsight into the figure's unseen past, while concomitantly adding further definition to the figure who delivers the information. This artistic mastery of the past finds a particular structural strength in its intimate integration of the past with the present.211 As reported under the title remembrance, several soldiers voice their recollection of Christ's ability to destroy the temple and re- construct it within three days. Depending on the scope of represented time, this event may precede the outset of dramatic activity or fall within its boundaries. In Montecassino it conforms substantially to the demands of pre-history as a present state of affairs by introducing information from Christ's dramatically undeveloped past, thereby lending 145 greater definition and depth to the present pro-trial examination by Caiaphas. Judas' recapitulation of the ministry of his Lord, brought to light in Mbntecassina 7-12,212 not only establishes a temporal bond between single happenings, it also contributes valuable knowledge in the fern of relevant past activities which create a part of 'present' circumstances, all without recourse to extensive dramatization. The Cassinese author thereby husbands his resources by relating them in epic fashion, opening our minds to pertinent facts none the less effectively than had he expanded his dramatization by several scenes. BenP manages this set of circumstances with an analogous epic inclusion, although its introduction takes place before Pilate and not a high priest. One other instance of this technique of securing the past by epic means occurs in BenP, when Zacchaeus vows to repay four times over those he has defrauded. His promise, "Domine, si quid'aliquem defraud- avi, reddb quadruplum",213 carries the unmistakable reference to preterite activities of the tax collector, the introduction of which provides a measure of Jesus' power and persuasiveness by indicating that old ways have been altered to accommodate a new reality. 0) Actualized Pre-history Yet a third method of realizing pertinent data from even the most mundane and well-known incidents involves the actualization of pre- history, a particularly intense and aesthetically pleasing manner of organizing material. Some intriguing examples of this formal mastery of past events may be found in dramas of the Middle Ages, especially 146 those of later writing, for actualized pro-history presents supplemental scenes and characters who act out the happenings only related in epic fashion in other Passions. Actualized pre-history involves the accretion of performed material and is one of the factors whichh accounts for the growth of so many later Passions. Responding to its own peculiar strengths and potential, actualized pre-history concentrates its attention upon the future; or as 98:: explains: Das Vergangene wird weder erzghlt noch als Zustand geschildert, sondern die dramatische Handlung schreitet von Anfang an kraftig fort und laszt in ihrem Verlauf die Vorgeschichte erkennen.214 Passion plays Of a later period will employ this interesting technique in novel and artistic ways. But those of Group I show no evidence 6f its presence. At this time of Passion development attention is directed to those circumstances which, with few exceptions, immediately surround the Passion itself. The eyes of celebrants and spectators alike are upon the remembrance and commemoration of Jesus' sacrifice for mankind. These few representatives of pre-history which I have just outlined are the sole indicators of the structural puissance of exposition at this early stage. I attribute this lack of development to textual, preservation on the one hand and to the possibility of authorial intent on the other. Portions missing from Mbntecassino might develop Christ's pre-history more fully, In the instance of BenP, this suggestion seems remote to the point of non-existence. Of much greater interest is the means to which the two texts were put. A celebrative and commemorative reenactment dwells not on the past, as represented by epic vehicles in drama, but on the very actions being remembered. Intense integration of 147 pro-history, as offered by these three expositional forms, is more concerned with an artistic value of structure per so than with com- memoration. Their fecus is most often upon the past as a narrated entity or a series of elements (with the later exception of actualized pre-history). Since the concentration of Group I texts is upon Christ's suffering and man's relationship to it, such a minimal application of the past as an artistic tool is not completely unexpected. Retrieved Events Within Dramatized Time The second major subdivision of past events to be considered here concerns the means by which a playwright integrates into his play developments which take place within the time represented on stage. This category varies from those previously considered in that it deals only with those happenings which correspond in temporal terms to rqiresented time. Although our interest remains focused upon an activity of presented reality, an epic introduction can become an efficient method of stressing a concept, of deepening an emotional response to a 'now' event, or of dramatically defining a scene as a function of the past. For purposes of discussion of Group I manuscripts I am dis- regarding an obvious division of such retrieval systems known as screened occurrences ("verdeckte Handlung"), which are not functional in the two earliest Passion plays. The remaining concept of repetition will occupy us for the duration of this section.. There exists a portion of Scripture dramatized by all Passions of reasonable preservation which involves the repetition of similar scenes and infermation. Both deal with the seditious plots of Jesus. The two trials, one before the high priests, and the other in the court of 148 Pilate, provide an example of activity repeated from represented time and form the backbone of the scriptural story. Even though this sequence is absolutely indispensable for any effective Passion drama- tization, the mandated structure holds the potential of immediate recollection and evaluation of old information in reference to its timely repetition through recurring characters and circumstances.215 The trial before Pilate and its predictable outcome is in essence little more than an elongation and intensification of Caiaphas' question- ing of Jesus hours before. In general, limited amounts of unintroduced information from the past are brought to light; the old testimonies are most often repeated and intensified through this repetition. If there were any doubt about the eventual resolution of the conflict between the Lawgiver and the authorities on the 01d Law, it would seem to vanish as one nears the conclusion of Caiaphas' speech in Monte- cassino. When this intolerant leader cries, in response to the Son's relevation of His divine origin, "[Bllasphemavit, cur tacemus?/Quid ilam tertibus egemus?",n6 it seems painfully evident that the second trial will function only as a formality. The priests wish Pilate to 217 Their decision about exact the penalty which their law prohibits. the Anointed's guilt and just punishment has long since been rendered. Indeed, the second set of trial circumstances is thrown into greater relief by its repetitive quality, its injustice made even more forceful. The account of Judas' remorse from Mbntecassino communicates a certain degree of dramatic achievement by recalling to mind his harsh words of just a few hours earlier.218 Though still in an essentially undeveloped form, Judas' repentance serves to review the agony of the ‘ betrayal and underline a central theme which courses throughout all 149 Passions, that of a sacrificial Innocent. The words of Judas add poignancy to a past situation, which will be seiZed upon and developed .by later dramatists into extensive acknowledgment5”0f genuine sorrow and despair: ". . . heu quam graviter peccavi/tradens iustum sanguinem."219 Much the same can be said of this section in BenP. Again Judas is noted to have realized his trespass and seeks to rectify it by returning the blood money, but to no avail.220 As was true in the century older text, BenP demonstrates only the first stages of dramatic growth; scant awareness of the theatrical potential of the scenes is reflected. There is to be found, however, a possibly important repetition at the close of BenP. In these final moments Joseph of Arimathea casts a baleful eye on the immediate past as he requests the remains of the Crucified, and,in so doing, sums up the entire play, while reiterating fundamental religious teachings behind the presentation: Iesus von gotlicher art, ein mensch an alle sunde, der an schuld gemartret wart. . . . (BenP 274-276) The restatement of dramatized activity has the effect of reminding the audience of the preponderance and validity of the tale they have just . 221 witnessed. Epic Application of the Chorus A curious phemonenon in medieval drama is the structural position occupied by the chorus. As I have written, it possesses an impressive capacity to infer the future and to alert theatergoers of possible 150 impending events. But its dramatic nature is far from adequately com— prehended by a system of future references alone: behind them lies a vast domain of epic qualities which may equally be called into service by conscious authorship. Not only is the chorus capable of infering as yet undramatized happenings, its ontological existence outside the confines of the drama enable it to report in epic fashion. It may be employed to bring a past event into sharper focus in light of subse- quent revelation; the chorus may simply recall for audiences a sig- nificant occasion of the past; it may also assume the guise of narrator, reporting on the passage of activities in represented time. Most of the choral appearances in Ben? function in this manner. On several occasions this dramatist chooses to report the fact that many empty spaces in represented time were filled with specific activities which had been glossed over by temporal acceleration. One such instance identifies an action by the Magdalene: as she moves to make plain her contrition before her Lord by buying ointment and seek- ing him out, a chorus sings: "Accessit ad pedes-"ZZ22 In the later context of Lazarus' resurrection a cleric proclaims: "Et prodiit ligatis m[anibus] et p[edibus], qui querat] m[0rtuus]."223 When the Jewish priests congregate to consider the fate of the Galilean, the chorus is again called to introduce them in epic fashion: "Cbllegerunt pontifi- ces etc."224 The dramatic and structural weaknesses of such statements are obvious: they seem out of place, almost redundant. Nothing is gained from their participation. These sung intermissions surely only interfere with the dramatic and logical flow of events. And yet they do not appear to be simply fortuitous, haphazard conglomerates of unproductive words. Perhaps their function lies not in their epic 151 framework, but in their melodic method of delivery. This suggestion reveals interesting avenues of consideration, paths which concentrate our perpension on the ancient origins of the plays. One should always bear in mind that the early Passions were fes- tive, commemorative, and symbolic, building upon centuries of liturgical development and practice. The liturgy had music as one of its formative elements. It is,therefore, not unexpected that even epic narration should take the guise of lyrical flight; it, too, led to God: Als eine religi3se Weihestunde war das Ganze nicht zum Schauen und H3ren von etwas Fremdem da, sondern wollte durch Gesang und Handlung die Herzen aller in einer einzigen Empfindung zusammenfassen und durch die Hulle und den Spiegel des Sinn- lichen hindurch zu Gott hinwenden und erheben: darum konnte man auch mitten in der dramatischen Handlung, die sich zwischen Einzelpersonen abspielt, den Chorgesang eintreten lassen. . . Fur den stimmunggebenden Charakter der Feier ist es nur Gewinn und es ist geradezu Notwendigkeit, dem Geschehen mit Gesang zu felgen, und solche Andeutung durch Worte zu verwenden ist stilgemdsz (my emphasis). 225 Thus it is seen that these narrative elements emanated directly from Church services and festivals, which were sung fer centuries. For BenP to pick them up in their liturgical fbrm was natural. Traditional scholarship of the ilk espoused by Hardin Craig has long made a fundamental tenet of its critical appraisal system the con- ception that the drama of the medieval period, preoccupied as it was with religious rather than with artistic or theatrical ideals, achieved triumphs primarily from treated subjects. According to this school of thought, most creativity could be attributed to the chance arrival of a redactor or author of some genius.226 This restrictive viewpoint further surmises that, since religious drama was possessed of "no dramatic technique or dramatic purpose, and no artistic self-awareness," 152 one could not employ modern tools (including those derived from drama as a genre) to any extent.227 One will readily admit that works of art which transcend their moments of creation most often owe their 'timelessness', their charm and impressiveness to extraordinarily-talented men. But only the most marginal of literary concerns is addressed by such criticism, as its truth can be postulated for all written records of all periods. The medieval theater is surely no exception, for, just as in any epoch, one finds an extremely uneven record of achievement. The criteria one employs to arrive at a definitive conclusion as to the relative merits of each text, therefore, becomes a major factor. Though, for instance, I agree with most scholars who find in Montecassino a work of interesting 'dramatic' qualities, one which owes its fetching characteristics to a gifted organizer of language and dramatic arts, I am less inclined to dismiss BenP as so much wasted effort. The key lies in the manner of apprehension. The analysis of two of the earliest preserved Passion plays in Western Europe refutes claims that one cannot gain valuable insights and pleasures by the application of modern critical tools and methods, for it has been shown that attention to the primordial drive of the 'dramatic', that instinct to order mimetic activity so as to continually throw reader or viewer expectation into the future, can direct per- ceptions into the interior workings of impelling drama, into the very heart of dramatic organization. There can be no doubt that the reliance upon Scripture does much to establish the basic tone and presentational character of Montecassino and BenP, linked as they are to liturgical celebrations of Christ's Passion. 153 However, we have ascertained substantial points at which both plays individually break out of the 'restrictive' setting and demands of religious communion into the realm of significant artistic accomplish- ment. Although I have enumerated areas of temporal construction which inevitably surface either as a result of the exegencies of play manage~ ment,228 or of biblical material offered in celebration,229 many other facets of the framework of time hint at a fascinating variety of organ- izational possibilities within even the most 'traditional' boundaries. Particularly those areas of intimated occurrences (notably those 0f mood and of dreams in Montecassino) and expositional fbrms of’remem— brance (especially pre-history as a present circumstance) have offered valuable insights into two distinct methods of controlling and artist- ically manipulating the story. Established and objectively-measurable facts relating to the tempo of succession have introduced us to a sophisticated complex of temporal congruencies in Mbntecassino and an all-pervasive anachronism of action in BenP, where the festive unity of player and spectator signals a profound identity with Jesus' sacrifice through the twin phenomena of interruption and suspension. We are continually reminded that the Passion was not experienced as a unique one-time event, but as 'up-dated', contemporary reality, a permanent part of medieval man's system of divine reference. In such commemoration of the 'Divine Comedy', historical and sacred time become one, as they must, according to Robert Scholes: Inevitably a culture's concepts of history and of reality will be closely allied. Without a sacred time, eternal and beyond the power or history, there can be no reality beyond the actual. The function of ritual is to interrupt historical time and to synchronize it with sacred time. It is related to empirical actuality and to historical time insofar as it is the vehicle through which human actions are felt to 154 acquire significance, transcending history by identification of the human and actual with the divine and mythical.230 We have sensed the importance of the Ben? Mary Magdalene, whose active participation lends such color, depth, and meaning to an often puzzling presentation. Her dominance or strongly-supportive role in 107 of the entire 289 verses of presentational time serves to enliven the conversion she undergoes, making it all the more theatrically noteworthy. In the sequence of the Magdalene are discovered all manner of dramatic and temporal structures quite beyond the traditional stric- tures of faithful Passion representation; indeed, it is in the light of the Madgalene's insinuation into the play that those brief vignettes of the Teacher's ministry take on increased formal and doctrinal pre- ponderance and structural harmony. Both groups of encounters are set against one another, a technique establishing the artistic value of BenP far ahead of its religious roots. We see, for example, in the calling of the disciples and their immediate and complete obeissance the symbolic representation of Christ's power over mankind.231 The concept of Jesus as salvator et redemptor is given further weight by the healing of the blind man, Mary's sinful life, repentance, and forgive- ness, and the raising of Lazarus: His mastery over sickness, sin, and death is absolute.232 A study of time has helped to confirm these relationships, while at once giving witness to a more profound, more compelling structure for probably the most stylistic Passion in all German letters. And yet I have attempted to judiciously keep the two texts separate at every juncture; they can only be considered analogOus, not homologous iterations on the Passion. We cannot, nor should we expect 155 both plays to offer identical results, based, as they seem to be, on two radically divergent approaches to similar problems of dramatization. The Cassinese author appears to have the upper hand on dramatic repre- sentation; his play shows us an interest in securing audience attention by the inclusion of "dramatic action details of a realistic and comic nature,"233 thereby freeing the work "from the stylized solemnity of the liturgical dramatic tradition."234 He accomplishes this by the timely and well-formulated implementation of extra-liturgical and apocryphal material (Uror's dream), as well as by the critical intro- duction of vernacular speech at the Crucifixion. BenP, on the other hand, fosters a highly-stylized review of the Master's Passion, and therein lies the difficulty of acceptance. It varies markedly with the method of’transmission in Mbntecassino: Its (Montecassino) objective is to recreate events in at least a semi-realistic manner in order that they become apprehensible as history to an audience and thus become grounds for devotion, while the Benediktbeuern play seeks to embody doctrine and does so less through realistic story telling than through selection of incidents and for the most part stglized representation within a liturgical context.2 5 Considered from a standpoint of dramatic interest, it must be said that Montecassino provides a more satisfying experience of the theatrical potential of scriptural material, though much of this text relies on symbolic representation, too. When placed beside the identical series of actions in Montecassino, the congregation of High Priests, for example, shows a fundamental conservatism inherent in the Ben? author's method of relating to his material. The latter chooses a scriptural state- ment composed of three speeches to outline the situation: Quid facimus, quia hic homo multa signa facit? Si dimittimus eum, sic omnes credent in eum. (BenP 170-171) 156 Empedit vobis, ut unus.moriatur homo pro populo et non tota gens pereat. (BenP7272'-273) Ab ipso ergo die cogiverunt etc. (BenP 273) The comparison between the two accounts indicates that the result of the BenP episode is_a rather undramatic dwelling on the facts as pre- sented in Scripture. I have investigated the intense reaction of Caiaphas to Jesus' silence and the perceived blasphemy related in 2 . . 36 The comparison of the two texts reveals a certain Montecassino. paucity of action in BenP, but one which fits well into its highly- stylized and abstract character. One consideration which may enlighten us as to the reasons underlying this bleak style is not only the recognized commemorative intention of the entire performance, but also its suggested place within the liturgy itself, specifically in the cere- mony of the Procession of the Palms on Palm Sunday.237 Of the theoretically available techniques for rendering time, those which find no part in Group I are inevitably those which seem to concen- trate on the conscious endeavor to elicit artistic structures and lend the story broader dramatic acceptance. This observation leads us directly back to the peculiar commemorative nature of the plays them- selves. We have noted many possible effects of the simultaneous stage and its probable orientation toward church architecture. This offers one arena of commonality with liturgical drama from whence Passions sprang. Rudick's suggestion that Ben? may have been afforded a place in the Procession of the Palms draws clear and unmistakable lines of affiliation between Mass and Passion play ---both are commemorative. Sticca derives a similar set of suggestions, most notably that 157 Montecassino was probably presented within the walls of that named monastery.238 Both authors point to the central reason why Passions of this early time did not respond to all theoretical alternatives of temporal organization. We later critics may catch some of the intrica- cies of commemorative Observances on stage by momentarily considering the possible mentality of acceptance behind such 'non-dramatic, 'simplistic' plays. Those who first performed liturgical plays, from the first‘Quem Quaeritis'trope, to the later and characteristically more developed Visitatio sepulchri, were of monastic conviction and practice. The audiences of the primitive situations were likewise well-initiated members of a relatively homogenous group, a body of like-minded, similarly-interested believers, intimately familiar with the Bible and with contemporary exegesis. Their familiarity with liturgical forms, with tropes, psalms, antiphons, responses, and such, created in them a generally accepted compendium of acknowledgment of the Passion mysteries, of the Lord's triumph over death, and His unity with the Father, an idea established in response to the Arian heresy.239 For these religious men history assumed sacred proportions; it continued to be present, renewed with each Mass, commemorated and celebrated. The special nature of their lives presumed constant contact with God, the Originator. Thus, in plays such as those of Group I early auditors were able to see God and His Son through the work, to short-circuit the necessity for didacticism, an interest which lies at the very heart of several later enlargements designed to make the plays useful to a laity not steeped in religious teaching and practices as were the monks before them. To these latter auditor/perfbrmers the work itself called 158 attention to the feats of the Son, and to God, much as in the below- 0 God Spectator 0:0 Work In its truest sense, the work was a linguistically-styled, masterfully schematized diagram: organized reflection of the Almighty; it was merely another method of approaching God, of comemorating His triumph. The work possessed a small fragment of truth and reflected it back onto the spectator, who, by virtue of his intimate communication with God, had no need of paradigmatic impressions of life. The play functioned as yet another means fer validly relating to eternity; both it and God cast an image back onto the spectator. Thus are numerous techniques extending far beyond remembrance and celebration not mandated or even possible; their lack of application has nothing at all to do with a naive, unassuming, or haphazard dramaturgy: they are simply not viable, nor desirable, nor useful alternatives. Through the perceptions afforded by the structuring process we are able to experience the work for ourselves, quite apart from the expectations or demands of a medieval audience, whose impressions we can but surmise. We can,by attention to the formal tools, made available by structural analysis, partake of the transcendence of both plays in an aesthetic sense. We are called to remember Ingarden's piercing exposure of a work of art as a polyphony of experiences and embodiments, one which cannot be observed simultaneously from all sides.240 The minute fraction of the complete play known as the temporal structure has, however, provided us with methods and insights whereby we may more 159 nearly approach an objective decision as to the relative merits of the plays, fer they compel us to rid ourselves of modern prejudices against things religious by exploring not always those things which set these ancient forms apart from our experience, but those phenomena which they share with all dramatic activities -- the forward-tending and anticipatory temporal reference. And the lyrical insertions into both plays, regardless of their origin and initial impetus, have again provided evidence that dramas are not exclusively organized with 'dramatic' devices. The complaints of both Maries in BenP invite attention to emotions and psychological perceptions which to a large degree trans- cend the moment, speaking to modern religious man as it might have to his medieval ancestor: . . . es (das lyrische Subjekt) denkt diesen Gedanken, erlebt ihn zugleich und versinkt in ein ungenanntes Sinnen und stilles Fuhlen. . . Aber das, was gesagt wird, konsti- tuiert nicht fi‘. . eineeinzige, sich eben entfaltende, konkrete, erfullte Ge enwart des menschlichen Lebens, sondern etwas, was sozusagen uber allen Gegenwarten als ewiges Schicksal des Menschen schwebt. . . .241 Such open-ended expressions of profound mental anguish provide points of entry into the deeper structure and significance of the plays in which they occur; we need only adopt adequate,objective methodology and momentarily relax our reactionary, subjective defenses to become enveloped by a meaningful experience of the mind. Attention to temporal forms can accomplish this if we so allow. CHAPTER VI GROUP II (1250-1340) St. Gall, Wien, Palatinus, Autun B and R The five texts which comprise Group II all originate from the first half of the fourteenth century. The opportunity, therefore, exists to investigate within a limited chronology the means chosen by five distinct authors or groups of redactors to relate the Passion story. We will witness the same tale of what Douglas Gray calls "the true center of medieval devotion"l in five unique renditions, each sharing the generalities of its origin, while providing evidence of its author's artistic control and understanding of his sources. Before commencing our investigation it is necessary to consider for a moment the most salient features of medieval thought on the nature of Christ at this time in history, for it differs significantly from attitudes of previous centuries and has importance for the structure of fourteenth-century Passions. Medieval drama exhibits a peculiar non-synchronous characteristic between popular spirituality and devotional practices and their theatri- cal representation.2 Several years may elapse before a new wave of religious thought makes its way into the structure of drama; a necessary period of cultural and spiritual evolution and clarification separates the introduction of a new religious idea from its dramatic form, a cir- cumstance shared much less in the Middle Ages with the epic or lyric genres. It is not surprising, therefore, that the emerging Christo- centric piety of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries finds expression not in the Passions of the same centuries, but in those of the fourteenth. 160 161 These early Passions, like Montecassino and BenP, share a concept of Christ with doctrine much older than themselves, one which has its roots in the spiritual warfare of the formative years of the Church. For many hundreds of years during its nascience the organized Church was burdened with the repulsion of countless heresies. Of importance for the theater was the pervasive disinterest for the Passion, the result of organized opposition to the teachings of Arianism, a doctrine which denied the divinity of Christ. Although it did not altogether eliminate consideration of the Passion of the Lord, the Church sharply deemphasized the humanity of Jesus in favor of His equality with God the Father as the second person of the Trinity. There evolved a picture of Christ triumphing over death, proving His equality and unity with His Father. Religious art provides a vivid witness to spiritual attitudes which affirm its conventional depiction of Jesus as Master of life and death; during these years the Cross is seen as the vehicle of victory.3 Church liturgy was equally affected by concentration upon the Lord of Glory as victor: the Mass became a commemoration of His death,4 heavily dependent upon a host of symbols. Christ's humanity continued to provoke little interest. Both liturgical and devotional practices dwelled on the Lord Triumphant, more a symbol of spiritual power than an entity to be approached as a man. We have observed the dramatic responses to these doctrinal modes of thought in Group I Passions. Iconography of the eleventh century attests to the power and persuasion of the image of victory, where the eternal veracity of the Crucifixion is locked into dogma: 162 In this Christ stands firm and aloof upon the Cross, kingly, heroic, and triumphant: His feet are supported by a suppen- deneum and His head is adorned by a royal crown. The scene is a self-sufficient expression of a dogmatic truth, com- plete within itself and demanding no specific response from those who look at it.5 However, long before these conventions of Crucifix depiction in the eleventh century, voices were heard from various quarters which pro— claimed the humanity of the Lord in tones of emotional reaction. One of the most eloquent early statements attesting to a changing view of salvation and the nature of Christ was the allegory of the Mass, written by Amalar (+ca. 850), wherein he employed the ceremonies and rites of the service to recall the earthly journey of the Christ, particularly the time of His suffering and death.6 As the eleventh century unwound, other spiritual leaders lent their voices and visions to the evolving Christocentric piety. Men such as St. William of Volpiano (+1031), St. Richard of Verdun (+1046), and John of Fécamp (+1078) investigated with renewed fervor some of Christ's human sufferings.7 But the greatest influence of medieval theology during the period for the contemplation of Jesus the man was exerted by the author of Our Deus Homo, St. Anselm of Centerbury (+1109), primate of England and 'Father of Scholasticism'.8 By emphasizing the teaching that the redemptive act occurred on a human level,9 Anselm projected the mortal part of the Savior directly into the zenith of interest. The salvation of mankind thereby took on a new immediacy; through the insertion of a human Christ into the equation there evolved a innovative relationship between God and man, one that stressed an interest by the individual for his own salvation.10 Previous centuries had seen mankind subordinated to God and the Devil, the two antagonists who eternally contested supremacy over man's spirit and devotion. 163 As an entity of secondary importance, man was not strictly involved in his own salvation: He (man) was reconciled to God, but as a result of an issue between God and the Devil: thus there were no immediate per- sonal and empfional implicationsfor him in the Incarnation and Pa551on. Medieval theology, in marked contrast to these long—held beliefs, significantly altered man's position and value in the argument by placing emphasis upon a reconstitution of ancient bonds between God and man; the defeat of the devil now occupied a position of secondary interest.12 There issued from this new sense of kinship with the Divine a more profound feeling of emotional participation in the Passion, a love-offering which only the Christ, a perfect man, could make,13 a sacrifice designed to reinstitute the primitive situation before Adam's fall. The voice which most changed the old picture of Christus triumphans into Christus patiens in the twelfth century was that of St. Bernard of Clairvaux (+1153), founder of the Cistercian order and reluctant preacher of the Second Crusade.l4 Prior to the devotions of Bernard on the humanity of the Lord, Emile Male observes that few sermons dedicated to 5 F. Vernet is more emphatic in his opinion the Passion can be found.1 about the importance of Bernard for medieval spirituality: La dévotion 5 l'humanité du Christ 'est presque absent de la litterature chrétienne. Avec lui, elle y fait une entrée victorieuse."'l6 Bernard's mystical contemplation on the mortality of his Savior, an exercise calling up in him an "unremitting love for Jesus crucified",l7 formed the most significant theme of his entire life, making him one of the first theologians to investigate the emotional implications of "Carnal Love".18 164 Bernard's Liber de Passione Domini becomes one of the most pre- cipitous works of medieval spirituality, wherein the saint's contempla- tion achieves literary form, underscoring in truly graphic terms the momentous sacrifice Christ made for His creation. Not a treatise on the triumphal overcoming of death, but the record of a mystic's search for contact with his Lord on an emotional level, the work dwells on the human consequences of a human Savior, suffering in pain and love to regain His prize.19 By virtue of the high esteem in which they were held in religious circles of the time, the opinions presented in Bernard's Libcr and Anselm's CH? Deus Homo were universally accepted into the teachings and opinions of the medieval Church,20 and with them was introduced a renewed emphasis on the mortal and finite qualities of the Christ. But other successors to the infant tradition did much to Spread the doctrine throughout Europe. A third personality soon appeared to lend the new Christocentric piety of the late twelfth and early thirteenth centuries a devotional and popular quality.21 The man was St. Francis of Assisi, founder of the Franciscans. Love for the crucified Lord fired Francis' religious imagination, as it had few before him; his compassionate response to the Savior called St. Francis to participate in Christ's struggle.22 The tritsulations of the Lamb became the focal point of emerging Franciscan contemplation; a set of emotional values and responses spread throughout Europe via the vehicle of public preaching,23 accompanying the Franciscan friars as they ventured into new territories. St. Bonaventure (+1274), the most noteworthy Franciscan theologian of the thirteenth century and general of the order until 1273,25 16S likewise placed the Passion at the apex of devotional exercises, stating that, to conserve and nourish the soul, one should concentrate upon the dying Christ on the Cross.26 In his summary of the impact of the ideas popularized and socialized by St. Francis, developed and spread by members of the Franciscan order, Sticca concludes: ' Franciscan piety provided the new and essential spirituality, with its desire to understand the abstract through the concrete, the divine through the human, and to secure a more human and dramatic visualization of the Christian mysteries. Another work of primary concern for the discussion of medieval spirituality as it develOped in the thirteenth century is the Meditationes vitae Christi, long attributed to Bonaventure, but now thought to originate from the hand of John of Caulibus.28 The text, prepared for a religious woman of Saints-Claire,29 addresses itself, as do its predecessors, to the heart and not the intellect.30 In it are found some of the most moving and poignant of all medieval descriptions of the Master's sufferings, supported by those of the Virgin. Many will find their way into increasingly graphic renditions of the Crucifixion in later Passion plays. Renewed fervor for Passion contemplation found its way into med- ieval thought in various other ways, too. Iconography and religious art reacted to the changing emphasis, postulating the Lord's suffering in ways not previously witnessed. This alteration of style also does not spring fully-articulated from medieval culture; its path leads from the last half of the tenth century, where a Crucifixion scene of a psalter from England's Ramsey Abbey expresses the modification of old beliefs before they were yet formalized into doctrine, to the early 166 eleventh-century depiction from Weingarten, Germany. In this Cruci- fixion the suggestion of acute pain is strengthened with reSpect to the Ramsey psalter picture in a way which becomes standardized in future years: Christ is frozen into an emphatic S-bend at the apogee of suffer- ing, His body placement indicative of the torment He endures. Further detail is added by the courseness and jaggedness of a roughly-made Cross. This vision of the Crucifixion is guided by intentions quite unlike those behind earlier art forms: ". . . it had an emotional design upon the beholder, an intention to stir him to a compassionate involvement in the scene."31 Group II plays similarly attempt to arouSe the emotions. The Passion assumes a critical role not only in monastic and scholarly circles, it spreads into previously unoccupied territory, such as sermon books. In England lyrics on the Passion form the dominant theme of thirteenth and fourteenth-century poetry.32 The most important collection of hortatory topics from the time is contained in John of Grimestone's manual for preachers.33 Though somewhat belatedly, theater of the Middle Ages begins to share in the concern for a humanized Jesus. The plays were not longer experienced in the objective-sacred manner of a person in prayer, but rather in ways indicative of a subjective-psychological state of mind.34 Maria M3ller comments on the relationship of spectator to drama of the period by remarking: Der Zuschauer wird von der Sorge um das eigene Seelenheil bewegt, nichtnmehr von der Sorge um den Gottesdienst. Seine Aktivitat ist nicht mehr theozentrisch, sondern ego: zentrisch ausgerichtet.3 Attention to the salvation of individual spirits fostered a previously 167 unknown tendency to teach and edify, aided by amplified attention to Passion details. Mystery plays thus assume the function of the soul's caretaker, and the stage takes on the purpose of spanning the gap between spectator and sacred history. A new strategy of presentation is needed to instill within individuals the importance of Christ's Passion for them. The strategy is the illusion of the stage. As might be expected, all these developments in theology and philosophy have profound repercussions for the structure of presentation. To emphasize Christ's humanity calls for greater numbers of characters and speeches than are found in basically commemorative or symbolic practices. In order to create the proper concept of Christ the Man on stage, historical facts must be rationalized into human forms. If Jesus' sacrifice is to assume a semblance of convincing mortality it must of necessity contain an excrescence of detail; motivation of in— dividual characters must be ascertained, adversary relationships more carefully drawn. If the audience is to perceive His death in terms of its own humanity, it must be offered humanized figures who deliver intense and probable speeches. Human agony cannot be adequately trans- fered by symbolic representation. In the fourteenth century spectators are not expected to approach theatrical presentation with a cold, distant, unengaged mental attitude; participation in the Lord's trials is the key to comprehending fourteenth-century Passion plays. Even the highly liturgical overtones of StG do not destroy this unity of spec- tator and message. The meditative suggestions Aelred offered in the .Letter to his Sister, that she envision herself actually participating in the great events of Christ's life, particularly in the Crucifixion, -- 168 where she is remonstrated to remove herself from the women, 'quae longe stant,’ and join 'cum matre virgine et discipulo virgine accede ad crucem, et perfusum pallore vultum cominus intuere,'--37 will be taken to heart by playwrights of this time. They will attempt to so organize their religious statements that participation by the audience will be maximized. ‘We will be able to measure their successes by direct observation of the temporal strategies they employ; for longer, more complex plays will provide unprecedented opportunities to graphic- ally structure the Passion tale in novel ways which are often incom- patible with purely commemorative and symbolic plays. The Passion of St. Gall, which contains the largest number of liturgical remnants and is composed in pervasive liturgical tones, rather than being a completely original account, appears to rest on a much older prototype from the thirteenth century.38 It further seems likely that StC owes its preserved form to an unknown scribe,39 not to the author himself. StG approaches the life of Christ with an epic breadth not witnessed in other texts of the group, and requires the participation of at least fifty actors to portray eighty-five individuals and chorus members.4O When compared to the twenty-five speakers and six groups of speakers in BenP,41 it becomes obvious that many structural alterations of significant proportions have been achieved. Similarly, a larger number of loca to afford more playing space becomes necessary. It has been suggested that as many as sixteen or seventeen locations were required to adequately stage St0.42 Those events which were only hinted.in BenP or presented within a few verses in Montecassino exhibit greater structural and didactic relevance as their lines swell, 169 gradually developing into extensive dramatic encounters, which, in many instances, establish and motivate several inherent adversary relationships hinted in Scripture. This tendency to increase length by accrued detail and scenes is by no means an unprecedented phenomenon. Wolfgang Michael identifies its presence in the earliest history of medieval theater, when the Visitatio sepulchri becomes an Easter play. The original circumstances of the Resurrection are investigated "in allen ihren Einzelheiten (um sie) aufs Genauste auszuf3hren."43 Even during the preliminary move- ment from ritual to aesthetically more independent theater one encounters the human desire to know the details of an event in their entirety, to experience them as they might have occured in reality. The growth manifested by Group II texts seems to involve an inherent epic quality of man's spirit. One particular trait of these emerging dramatizations of the fourteenth century which we will wish to note is the manner in which, as Brinkmann observed, godly persons remain quite stylized in their actions and motivations, while worldly or anti-Christian forces assume ever-widening degrees of personality differentiation, continually taking on more recognizable, if malevolent, human traits. His opinion is born out by Grace Frank when she considers Palat: In the Rabatine Passion the biblical characters retain their traditional traits and yet the playwright's tenderness and sympathy for those who must suffer, his hatred of those who inflict hurt, are everywhere nmnifest. What, for instance, began in Ben? as a fairly lengthy episode involving only the Magdalene, the epitomy of secular and godless living, spreads 170 to other worldly and, in most circumstances, unfriendly personalities. Much of the length, dramatic interest, and temporal structure of Group II results from enlarged representation of these persons and their situations. Heretofore unknown characters, such as Huitacelin and Cayn of Palat assume an ever-ascending position of importance in an attempt to bring Christ's tribulations down to levels of human cog- nizance. These figures, driven by animosity towards their Savior, supported by personnages like Haquin and Mossé from the Crucifixion, and a servant to Caiaphas, make up some of the more interesting roles of the approximately forty persons needed to stage Palat.46 A similar excrescence of simultaneous localities which the stage must suggest has also been identified.47 In terms of age and originality, Palat occupies a place of great distinction in the history of French Passions, fer before Greban's .Mistére de la Passion this manuscript has the honor of being the first truly dramatic national Passion as well as the most original.48 Although several identifiable sources for Palat furnish varying amounts of material -- among them the narrative Passion des Jongleurs (the most immediate and critical source),49 the Gospel of'Nicodemus, and, of course, the liturgy and the Bible50-- in the formation of his dialogs and in the ordering of events this playwright evidences a remarkable degree of freedom from his origins, a fact which sets him apart from most other epic or dramatic restatements of sacred history. The fourteenth-century text commonly known as the Passion d'Autun consists of two related, but distinct Passion plays. Autun B, named for its c0pyist, Philippe Biard(i), a student of theology, L 171 was not reproduced until 1470.52 The text itself derives from a much earlier time, during the last years of the thirteenth or the beginning of the fourteenth century.53 It reviews the last hours of Christ's life from the preparations fer Passover to the Noli me tangere scene Thirty individual performance parts, excluding the numerous lines offered by ung Juif; have been identified,54 making the total somewhat larger than those for BenP. Autun R, also distinguished from its near relative by allusion to its scribe, Antonio Romani, abridges much of the material of related textsSS into a much less satisfying account, which, though commencing at the identical point as Autun.B, concludes with the descent from the Cross, and gives every indication of being incomplete.S6 Though both plays share much of the same source material, each approaches the Passion facts differently. Were a comparison made between the two Autun versions and their most significant common relatives, the Passion des Jongleurs and the Passion du Palatinus, we would discover many scenes shared with one of the two Autun plays and its antecedents, but not with the other.57 However, one major structural factor separates these versions into unlike units -- the tendency of the Autun B manu- script to interweave narrative elements into its presentation. In fact, the pattern of narration is so completely integrated into the fabric of Autun B, both metrically and dramatically, that any attempt to detach it has a debilitory effect on the entire work. After much discussion of the problems concerning intercalation of narrative elements into Autun 8, Fr. Schumacher concludes that the original text constituted a normal dramatic presentation and that a later person altered the structure, effectively transforming a drama into something more akin to a narrative poem.59 Schumacher finds an 172 analogical development in a Passion Nostre Dame,6O in that its second half, originally written completely in narrative form, adopted hitherto unknown dramatic structures at the hand of a later redactor. He con- cludes that a reverse development for Autun B is equally feasible.61 Grace Frank shares these views, but goes a step further to suggest that Biard himself (or a predecessor) wished to alter the original dramatic form to favor a reading public.62 For several reasons Frank rejects the possibility that an actor declaimed both narrative portions and direct speeches.63 While the ultimate impetus for such a drastic alter- ation of original structure remains clouded in mystery, its results are clear: Autun B is not a usual dramatic offering, as are the other plays of Group 11. Its recently-acquired epic character, moreover, makes any useful discussion of such epic inclusions exceedingly difficult. Involved is a fundamental distinction between the epic and dramatic genres. A presentation designed for the stage, as is recalled, must 'presentify' history, must create the momentary illusion of reality by the judicious use of theatrical characters and situations. It must excite spectators by throwing their attention continuously into the future. An epic presentation, contrarily, postulates and presents history in a framework of past events by virtue of its application of various preterite tenses in which the story is told. Though an epic tale may assume the trappings of the 'present' through quotation or direct address between characters, the whole temporal focus is upon things experienced, things having passed from reality. In this way a narrator is insinuated into the context to comment on and present the story from his omnipotent position above the work. Autun B has such a figure who filters the entire production through his own eyes in a way his most 173 closely-related analog, Augustinus of StG cannot. For, although the latter may comment upon dramatized material or introduce new activity into the play, he does not relate the Passion of Christ. The characters themselves develop it by their participation in live performance, of- fered in terms of 'present' stage time. Since I am interested in the position accorded epic remarks within a dramatic temporal context and the means by which its scope is expanded while a mandatory concentra- tion on events at hand is maintained, an adequate analysis of this fundamentally narrated structure of Autun B lies quite outside the scope of this investigation. TIME 0F.PRESENTATION.AND REPRESENTED TIME Each of the five plays, though composed within years of one another, presents a different quantity of verses to accomplish a tale of varied length. All of these plays involve a time of presentation considerably more lengthy than either of the Group I texts. But here the similarity ends. StG employs 1621 verses with several epic interruptions by a fresh dramatic figure known as Augustinus to relate the story of Christ's ministry from the Wedding at Cana through His Resurrection and appearance to Mary Magdalene (Table 5; Appendix B). Significant dwell- ing upon portions of the account allows one to identify dramatic and possible intentional highpoints of the presentation, for increased scenic length measurably alters the flow of time. A few moments of greater importance are developed in detail, while various cause and effect factors are investigated and critically evaluated by the author through 111.5 characters. Subjective time moves less quickly, requiring additional 'verses to complete its cycle, a technique which will receive attention 174 in following paragraphs. Most of the individual episodes, including those newly introduced by StG, are expanded by speeches, often delivered by innovative charac- ters, all more detailed than either Montecassino or BenP. This statement would demand qualification only if the percentage of pre- sentational time and represented time were considered. The number of verses devoted to uror's dream in Montecassino are fifty-seven of 320. Again, it should be recalled that the Montecassino manuscript is im- perfectly preserved. In B'enP Mary Magdalene's speeches encompass 107 of 289 lines. StG allows her 157 of 1621 lines. It is obvious that the increased detail of StG, although affording her more speaking opportunities, does not employ her as extensively as BenP. Other persons and situations receive a greater emphasis and broadened specification. In many respects Wien (Table 62-, Appendix B) offers the most interest- ing and original rendition of all the texts of Group II, reason enough to deplore its severely truncated preservation. This incomplete manu- script preserves only 532 verses, but they hint at a construction which may also have contained scenes from the Last Judgment, making it more properly a Christian history of the world than a pure Passion play.6S Wien commences dramatization with Lucifer's ,grozer hgmfit', traces his intrigue to capture Adam and Eve, and his participation through a devil surrogate in the sinful life of Mary Magdalene. The text breaks off during the Last Supper, immediately after Jesus has prophecied his betrayal. The fact that Wien opens in Heaven provides insights into pro- bable doctrinal leanings behind the text. From the inception of activity we observe a godly causality at work, one which tends to .2. LY." 'x-~ ' 'I 17S typify human characters rather than individualize them.66 The struggle between God and Devil disregards the perspective of mankind and works instead with one we know as 'god-centered'.67 The conception 6f the Passion in Wien was thus a study of the Lord's sacrifice as a redemptive mission originating beyond time.68 An exemplary scene of such a world view, additionally one which probably most enlightened medieval people and raises our interest as well, is that of the reception of four sinners into Hell. Each person serves as the host for a multiplicity of sins, all typed in readily-recognizeable molds. Dramatizations of the breadth of Wien will necessarily contain numerous massive temporal lacunae, which in themselves may serve to underscore for spectators the tightly-knit relationship between them and their Old Testament fathers. The earliest staged French text offers a presentational time of 1996 verses and a represented time of decreased scope so common to several fourteenth-century Passions. Palat (Table 7, Appendix B) dramatizes the crucial period from the preparation for the Passover meal and Entry into Jerusalem to the Risen Lord's appearance to fiHis favored convert, an interval of roughly six days. Represented time is, however, not the entire holy week, but the period from Maundy Thursday to Easter Sunday. The inclusion of Christ's triumphal ride into the city on Palm Sunday just after initial preparations for the Passover, forces represented time into a deceptively simple framework. The account does not dwell upon any of the events between Palm Sunday and Maundy Thursday. These days are merely unrecorded. Even with this lacuna in the textual chronology, the periods omitted from Palat are much less drastic than those deleted from Wien. 176 A multitude of scenes combining significant length with importance can be identified in the represented time of Palat. The observation that they commence with the outset of the trial scenes may further direct our inquiry into the relationship between structure and intent. All the mandatory sequences appear, but the trials before Pilate, the Crucifixion and attendant Planctus Mariae, the Harrowing of Hell, the Setting of the Guards, the related ointment purchase, and Christ's appearance to Mary Magdalene clearly receive authorial attention. These textual realities suggest a modification of the symbolic repre- sentation which guided the writers of Group I plays. A reconstruction of the temporal structure of Palat will aid in determining the extent of this alteration. The necessity of concentration upon a limited number of develop- ments in any dramatized story has previously been investigated.69 Beginning with Palat and continuing through Group III Passions, we now encounter a tendency to assemble new details surrounding the sufferings of Christ, while excluding more material which has no im- mediate part in this singlemost important purpose of Passion writing. On the one hand manuscripts exhibit augmented length, while at the same time limiting their attention more and more to the humanity of the Lord and His trials. Palat, for example, excludes the foot washing, the intervention of uaor on Christ's behalf, Jesus' encounter with the women of Jerusalem, and the Noli me tangere scene from the Resurrection.70 But exclusions do not seriously affect the unity of presentation, for as Rolf Steinbach observes: . Die Erweiterungen sind, wie immer wieder zu Recht betont worden ist, zumeist den Leidensszenen zugute gekommen; damit haben sie gerade nicht eine die Einheit auf13sende Tendenz.7l 177 His comments, made with a view towards German Passions alone, can, by the fbllowing analysis of Several portions of the French plays of Group 11, be generalized to include most of the ensuing European Passion developments. Increased concentration may be one of the factors which lead authorial attention away from Mary Magdalene, but this is by no means .1 certain, nor, if applicable, the sole reason for her dramatic demise in French plays, as we shall see in coming paragraphs. Although both texts of the Autun Passion resemble one another, .I often by their choice of identical words and phrases, their individual scope in represented time is quite different. Autun B commences with the preparation for the Passover and continues through the Resurrection and appearance of Christ to the Magdalene, making the journey of ap- proximately seventy-two hours in 2117 verses. Several individual scenes receive increased attention in this account which admits most of the episodes of importance during the last hours of the Teacher's earthly life. Of particular interest because of their unusual length are the celebration of the Passover, the trials, the Crucifixion and Planctus Mariae (together constituting a quarter of the entire play), and somewhat surprisingly, Joseph of Arimathea's dialog with Pilate. Whereas the Autun manuscript contains both Passions, there are numerous considerations which suggest several shared sources, but also some of which are distinctive for each.72 Not only do the epic inclu— sions of Autun B bespeak a varied set of circumstances from Autun R, the amount of time presented on stage is substantially dissimilar. The presentational scope of Autun R is defined by 937 verses, creating a necessary constriction of represented events. 178 Although the play of Autun R is initiated by an introduction, which is followed by the preparations for the Passover festival, as was the case in Autun B, the lack of an Easter play serves to concentrate action on the approximately twenty-four hour-long time span from shortly before the Last Supper to a time must after Jesus' death.73 Of overriding importance to the redactor of Autun R seem to be the Passover and Crucifixion.. This final event encompasses just under one-fourth of the entire presentational time. It is obvious that, like all its relatives, Autun R concentrates upon specific portions of Christ's sacrifice, presenting only selected highlights. The presentational aspect called anachronism has, with the expand- ing dominance of national languages during the fourteenth century, assumed an ever-increasing position of importance in Group II Passions. There is to be found in this group an obvious tendency to presentify the holy message by incremental application of culturally contemporary dress identified in plays incidental to Group I. Along with the expan- sion of verse and scene come previously unknown figures representative of medieval culture, communicating in languages readily understandable to all spectators. The speeches contain numerous words, phrases, or concepts which originate in medieval cultural, social, and religious life, and their inclusion provides a specifically medieval tint to the entire history, thereby effectively calling up a 'timeless' or universal quality about Christ's life. An interest in 'presentifying' the scriptural record, in relating it through terms familiar to their constituents guides the authors of all five dramas. This state of affairs conforms with religious life and comprehension feund in medieval 179 France and Germany. In this second grouping of plays the incidence of anachronism can be divided into several major areas: religious concepts and values, cultural phenomena, and social life. Each group in turn reveals numerous sub-units of increasing specificity. I will mention only a few outstanding examples from each type. One of the most significant introductions from medieval religious history found in StG concerns the personality of Augustinus, a curious commentator, preacher, and explicator, whose presence so greatly affects its temporal structure. It is indicative of a certain intent that a giant from Church history like St. Augustine was chosen to lend his name to a character who functions as the main expositor and initiator of staged activities. The weight such a personality can offer,not only to the dramatization,but also to the medieval concept of the ultimate meaning of the message can scarcely be overlooked. This Church author; ity from early ecclesiastical history serves to reinforce presented facts; his mere presence provides the tale with a sense of urgency and gravity possible with few other interlocutors. Other additions to the list of characters of StG evidence a dis- solution of the old chorus into individual dramatic figures, a fractionalization which continued from earlier years. Persons chosen for individualization are those of the Jewish community, who have already assumed several traits of medieval German Jews. They are now named Salman, Samuel, Meier, and Rufus. The seeds of cultural prejudice which will ultimately bear their bitter, ugly fruits in the form of open antagonism between Christian and contemporary Jew are sown here. Palat introduces the largest number of original persons of the group, 180 the most important of which are Cayn and Huitacelin (two medieval torturers), the blacksmith and his wife, Marques, Haquin, M0556, and Evramin (all Jews), and the guards of the sepulchre, anachronistically called chevaliers. Many concepts which the Church formulated to describe Christ's sojourn with mankind or to identify developments growing out of this encounter between man and God, codified and dogmatized in later years, are superimposed upon the original facts of the Passion. So it is that the Passover Lamb of StG becomes ,das gstgrlamp',74 and the time of Passover becomes ,die gspgrsit',7s in Palat 'nostre Pasque',76 and 77 Apostles are sworn upon, particularly by Jews, 'Pasque' in Autun B. before their religious experiences had been completed,78 Christian martyrs are identified as saints before the fact,79 and Mary is referred to as the Virgin or a saint before her special place in ecclesiastical history was established by dogma.80 Furthermore, bishops are identi- fied and addressed,81 apostles and legates discussed,82 cardinals and prelates evaluated,83 and monks castigated.84 Even Mahon is sworn upon,85 a favorite of the later Towneley Pilate. Two instances of the elasticity of time in medieval drama merit particular attention. In the account of Wien, a circumstance surfaces wherein a character is afforded insight into events not yet realized in history, a view wholly inconsistent with any human experience of time, but quite in keeping with a character of mythical stature like Adam. Dominica persona has just laid the curse of work upon man and Adam responds by overleaping thousands of biblical years to beg mercy: Gnade herre Ihesu Christ! wie wol mir was, so we mir ist! (Wien 128-129) 181 His insight into the second person of the Trinity is only possible in a context which allows a dual experience of primary and secondary con- ditions, from a time in which both events are elements of sacred history. Dramatic presentations which turn thoughts backwards for inspiration allow such a mixture of ahistorical reflection and medieval man saw no conflict between God the Father and God the Son in this form; both existed outside and beyond any human temporal reference. Kolve summarizes: Christ exists both before His incarnation and after His crucifixion; His relationship to time is not horizontal but vertical, because of His triune nature in eternity. God is outside time and knowledge of His workings can trans— cend the limitations of any single historical moment. Chronological history is not the most prominent consideration, rather attention is directed towards the cause and effect relationship of man's fall and Christ's redeeming sacrifice. A case of superimposing the historical description of man's genesis onto Jesus is discovered in one of the complaints of the Magdalene of Autun B. Here the situation is quite reversed from that in Wien. A character who should have no such knowledge expresses her lament in terms which dogmatically relate Jesus to God by attributing an act of the latter to the former: Doulx syre, qui formaste Adam, Une coste luy ostate De quoy Eve vous creaste. . . . (Autun B 153-155) Here Mary Magdalene recognizes the God in Christ, an enlightenment obviously inconsistent with a purely historical conception of time. Such a passage may convince modern readers of the incurable naiveté of medieval authors, but when evaluated by religious understandings 182 contemporary with the plays and by alternatives for representation of the period, much of the incongruity disappears, clearing the way for a less subjective experience of not only the dramatists, but also of the cultural milieu. Group II makes ample use of contemporary medieval cultural and social phenomena to presentify its Passions, including elements from commerce,87 class distinction,88 and geography.89 At numerous points the differentiation between Jew and Christian, as participants in med- ieval city life, heavily colors the Passion story with values and over- tones suggestive of an emerging Christian distain for their theological neighbors. Autun B often speaks of 'des faulx Juifa'. At the Cru- cifixion even the Virgin cries, "Les maulvais Juifa vous on ce fait",90 as if she herself were not a Jewess but a Christian. Indeed, in the context of the plays she is Christian.91 The national language of each presentation dominates, particularly in the French plays. Latin and vernacular French are neither in co- operation nor contention, fer, with few exceptions,92 the texts com- pletely rely upon the language of the people as their communicative medium. It is evident that the transition from Latin to vernacular speech happened earlier and proceeded more quickly in France than in Germany. Retention of Latin phrases has a definite impact on the tone and structure of German Passions, much of which is absent in their French counterparts. The situation prevalent in Group 1, es- pecially in BenP, where Latin and German function to imply nearness to or distance from holy ideals,93 has changed to one in which all. characters, including Jesus, express themselves in the vernacular. This is not so for StG, for this text occupies a transitional state 183 between the purely symbolic application of Latin and the 'secularization' of Passions, with German as its voice. There can be little doubt that certain of the symbolic or emphatic qualities of Latin have been pre- served in StG and that through them a decided stress is placed upon important events of Christ's life. But the former potency of Latin speeches identified2hi StC is manifestly weakened through the immediate expression in vernacular forms, relegating the former symbolic value of Latin to little more than a linguistic signal of the relative importance of succeeding speeches. We note, for example, that several lines spoken by John the Baptist are removed from a completely worldly framework by their Latin introductions. The antiphon, 'Qui post me venit',94 the responsory, 'Ecce, agnus dei',95 and other well-known phrases frozen into liturgical application, such as the 'Ego vox cla- mantis',96 the 'Ductus est Ihesus in desertum',97 and the 'Dominum deum tuum adorabis',98 all indicate moments of consequence by their linguistic form, but any symbolic application is undercut by their im- mediate expression in German. Latin inclusions seem mainly to elevate the general tenor of the entire presentation.99 The linguistic dynamics of Wien are somewhat more complex than those of StC. While no longer completely symbolic in nature, Latin is not yet relegated to a position of mere tonal importance. Several Latin speeches remain only partially expressed in the vernacular, each lan- guage still lending its own peculiar strengths to the dialogs in question. Figures like Adam and Mary Magdalene still employ Latin texts.100 Both lament their lot in Latin,101 and Mary speaks the 102 10 'Michi confer, venditor', and the 'Mundi delectacio , 3 both familiar from BenP. Dramatic parameters are still broad enough to 184 allow a fundamental interaction on two linguistic levels, a phenomenon soon to disappear. SUCCESSION OF EVENTS The numerous illustrations of events succeeding one another identified for Montecassino and Ben? recur in all five texts of Group 11, though their ease of identification varies widely with the complete- ness of supporting stage directions. Before investigating those areas suggestive of succession, I wish to direct attention to a singular method of structuring the dramatization of StG, one which is made ob- vious from rubrics. Of all the texts in Group II, StG alone employs the Silete call of angels to indicate consecutive occurrences in time by the formal structural division of scenes. Reference to Table 5, Appendix B, will indicate the consistency with which the author articulates major units from each other by aethereal song. The Baptism of Christ, His triumph over the devil's temptations, Mary Magdalene's life, conversion, and the related adultress theme,104 the Great Healer, the blind man, and the disbelieving Jews, the Priests' intrigue, the Last Supper,105 Jesus' initial trial, the final decision of which resolves itself into the Crucifixion, all conceived as materially compelling occasions, are separated from their immediate surroundings by an introductory sizete. The only instance not accompanied by remarks of.Augustinus is that of John the Baptist. Mary Magdalene's representation commences with her worldly activity, after which Augustinus makes his observations. Boletta reviews several functions of this Silete. Among those which are germane to our present discussion are: angels employed to 185 quiet the audience106 and Silete as a divider of scenes, analogous to the curtain of contemporary theater.107 Boletta quotes Reinhold Hammer- stein in summary, and in so doing, identifies the successive function of these interruptions for StG: Sicher machte die Verlegung der Spiele ins Freie, der gr3szere Lgrm und der erweiterte Umfang des Schauplatzes diesen Ruf notig. Zugleich hatte er eine gliedernde Funktion beim Szenenwechsel, bei neuen Auftritten vor GruBgenbewegungen der Personen von einer zur anderen Station. All appearances point to aconscious effort by the StG artist to for- mally create a succession of scenes and to identify the inception of precipitous material, calling attention by the intrusion of supernatural voices. Boletta comes to similar conclusions in his analysis of music in medieval Passions.109 Adverbial Evidence Succession created by the usage of adverbs of time in StG is so vast that only an abstract of occurrences can be offered. Our author evidences a predilection for the forms tunc (et tunc) and Respondet (Respondens, Respondent, Respondeat, Respondeant), turning to the former in 132 instances and to the latter 97 times. Other adverbial usages previously identified complete the evidence which suggests that a basic succession of events and dialog is, indeed, inherent in the structure of StG. A similar situation exists in Wien, but the adverb- ial quantity is limited by manuscript incompleteness. Since this method of organizing a drama increases geometrically with the addition of episodes and sequences in Group III, I have included an overview of all eleven Passion plays as Appendix A. Reference to it will suffice to indicate its fundamental character. 186 When attention is directed to Palat a striking dissimilarity between this play and its German analogs causes some analytical dif- ficulty. The playwright chooses to exclude specific rubrics of any kind,110 normally identifying only the character who speaks. In only one case does Palat avail itself of adverbially-induced succession, that of BA 1235, where it is reported with "Post Dyabolus" that Satan enters the staging area and commences his speech after the Virgin has lamented Christ's passing. There are no inherent transitions existing outside the dialog structure, a fact which makes for some unclarity as to the exact location of events or the temporal relationships between them. One must closely scrutinize the dialogs themselves to ascertain relevant information. Only then is it possible to establish a con- ception of how succession may have been conceived. If we follow care- fully the speeches of Jesus and Saint Peter at the outset of activity, for example, we can perceive a necessary succession from the flow of dramatized events. The Lord commands His disciples, Peter and John, to enter the city,where they will meet a man who will show them to the Passover facilities.111 Peter replies, "Sire, volentiers nous irons, "112 Vbstre commandement ferons. The immediately ensuing speech by Peter is directed towards the host mentioned by Jesus (saint Pierre~ a l'oste--BA 15): Amis, Jhesus, li nostre sire, Nous envoie a vous pour dire Que vous huimais le herbergiez, A mengier li appareilliez. (Palat 15-18) Little doubt arises that a sequence of cause and effect, of command and execution is implied, but where previous texts have made the relation- Ships between the first and second event implicit through rubrics, 187 one must continually scan the dialog structure for evidence of suc- cession. This method of creating or of determining succession is, in many respects, more dramatic than the extensive application of stage directions to which the audience cannot relate, for it internalizes these affiliations into the dialog itself. The two texts of Autun do not follow this structural lead, reverting in most instances to the use of rubrics and to the complimentary adverbial succession. Though rubrics carry much of the temporal succession in the plays, certain correlations are created simply by the exchange of speeches with two or more people, a situation which excludes the usual adverbial aids. One instance can be seen in Autun B, when Joseph of Arimathea converses with Pilate. One of the dialogs is introduced, "Earle JOSEPH a Pilate"(BA 1492), and its successor is labeled,"Rarle PILATE’a Joseph" (BA 1505). Clearly, the second speech replies to Joseph's words of a few sentences earlier. While adverbs of time are not absolutely necessary, the succession of events is made more trans- parent by their inclusion. Tamporal Linking of’Events Investigation into cause and effect relationships of scenes as structured by our five authors reveals some interesting contrasts. StG opens the exposition with the Wedding in Cana. This episode has been obviously moved from its scriptural position posterior to the calling of the disciples. As in many cases, the StG author appears to be alter- ing biblical chronology to open his play at a more favorable dramatic junction within the basic material. Hartl quotes F.S. Mone as observing that the result of chronological reordering affords StG a felicitous 188 onset, "wenn das Wunder f3r das gl3ubige Volk, das Wunder sehen wollte, 113 StG is not alone in the field of altered vorangestellt wurde." historical chronology; another German religious writing produced a few decades prior to StG, Die Erl3sung, exhibits an identical sequence of events. It would appear that a tradition of changed sequence also plays a major role.114 This series of actions, of the changing of water to wine, is succeeded by an extended baptism scene, wherein John identifies himself and establishes the doctrinal link between the Old and New Testaments. ."115 Dramatically John reports "das godes riche uns nahet. speaking, he could not be more correct, for the scene preceding his message contains the first stirrings of the Eternal Kingdom in human form. John recalls the words of the prophet Isaiah, "Ego vox clamantis in deserto: dirigite viam dbmini", thereby indeed preparing the way of the Lord, who appears almost immediately. The necessary bridge linking the Old and New Law is established and dramatically set in motion: we have witnessed the first moments of the latter. An excellent example of a conscious integration of several inci- dents which lead directly to a main occurrence follows: Jesus prevails over the three temptations of the devil; Mary Magdalene, who continues her role representative of all mankind,116 is introduced in her worldly glory and later converted; Christ calls His disciples; He confronts the Jews who bring the adultress and He dines with Symon the leper. These cameos, considered individually, possess no observable temporal or causal affiliation to one another. But does the forgiving of the adult- ress not psychologically prepare and deepen the succeeding pardon of an even greater sinner? Christ has just in recent dramatic time overcome 189 Lucifer, His arch adversary; now He proves Himself Master of human failings as well: . . . durch ihre Verbindung mit der Haupthandlung werden auch sie zu einem Teil des Erdwallens Christi, der, Gott und Mensch zugleich, Welt und Ueberwelt in sich vereint.11 Thus it seems apparent that the artist's mind is consciously referming and reorganizing his material within acceptable doctrinal limits to convey a meaning for the story which is quite independent of its separate parts; he is exercising no mean degree of structural freedom.118 The composer of Wien goes one step further in the exercise of relative artistic freedom by not only expanding the scope of his pre- sentation, but also by dramatizing many ideas only epically suggested by other contemporary redactors. He chooses to stage the entire doctrinal necessity of the Passion, commencing with Lucifer's fall from grace, continuing through Adam's sin, and culminating in the sacrifice of God the Son for man. The fall of Adam is a direct outgrowth and response to Lucifer's loss of power, a hostile reaction to his own banishment. His servant, Satan, formulates his master's drive for domination over Ged's.creation by declaring: Ia, wer er in der erden, der man mfiz uns werden mit allem sime kunne. (Nien 70-72) The reception into Hell of four eternally-typed sinners119 immediately after Adam and Eve prepares the appearance of Mary Magdalene in novel fashion and incorporates it nicely into previous developments. A careful spiritual integration of these happenings reveals the partici- pation of a skillful artist who consciously structures his material to 190 deliver a particular message, for as Maria M3ller succinctly reports: Durch die Handlung des ersten (Teils) wird nicht blosz ge- zeigt, wie die Menschen in S3nde verfielen, sondern auch, wie sich die SUnden mit der Zeit sehr verschlimmert haben. Das illustrieren Beispiele: Sic bringen in dem Zuschauer den Eindruck hervor, dasz alle Abh3lfe geschehen musz, wenn nicht das Menschengeschlecht in all seinen Schichten ganz verkommen 5011. The Magdalene's sin provides a graphic illustration of the culmination of evil in the world. The temporal flow of events out of one another in the French Pas- sions is more difficult to establish: There seems no overwhelming necessity to begin them with Passover preparations. With the exception of acceding to biblical narrative, I find no internal chain of events which require the plays to be initiated at these points in time. Here one must search other anterior French Passions for answers, for the concept of the ascendency of literary cause and effect, which does so much to define modern plays, is probably not at work to the degree seen in German plays of the same period.121 In the predecessor of Palat, the Passion des Jongleurs, a narrative poem from ca. 1243,122 from which many of the first thirty-four lines are drawn, the same point of departure is chosen.123 Although both Paul Mass and Grace Frank assume a lost play between the Passion des Jongleurs and Palat,124 it would be surprising if the unknown Passion began at another juncture without leaving traces in Palat. The appearance of Mary Magdalene loses some of its doctrinal and structural intensity by being seemingly thrust into the scene of the Last Supper without any preparation. We learn little about her former life, so carefully organized and integrated into the grand scheme of things in German plays. The Magdalene is only seen in the last stages 191 of conversion, seeking forgiveness through acts of contrition.125 There occurs, however, one instance whereby the cause of succession is at least hinted. This happens when Judas, deprived of his customary ten percent fee from Mary's gift, vows to recover it in the future.126 His speech dramatically sets some retaliatory measure in motion and we, along with medieval audiences, recognize it as the betrayal of his Lord. But this speech fits more logically into the consideration of oaths and is therefore of marginal value for this analysis. The playwrights of Autun B and Autun.R include in their intro- ductions a statement that they Specifically wish to present the Passion of Christ,127 which may account for the onset of activity around the 'Last Supper. Certainly, many varied means of presenting only the Passion material exist which might have altered the structure of the final plays, but, with a few notable exceptions, both texts seem to closely follow biblical sources. The singular approaches taken by the two German writers, the care- ful balancing and integration of material previous to the outset of Christ's Passion, prepares one for a similar experience in the French plays. Unfortunately, a degree of disappointment may arise, for their spirits respond to dissimilar stimuli. No impelling chain of events external to the Passion linking it to prior circumstances elucidates the beginning of the plays. Palat opens immediately with the Master's expressed desire to partake of one last meal with His closest friends before His ordeal begins. No dramatization or Specification which might indicate the necessity of the sacrifice is incorporated, save that which is incidental to the Scriptural bases of presentation. In like fashion, Autun B and Autun R commence with preparations for the final meal, but 192 they preface dramatic inception with a short introduction wherein is mentioned the desire to stage the Passion and Resurrection of our Lord.128 What may be involved in the lack of any identifiable dramatization of causative factors is a possible traditional point of inception of these early French dramas, indicative of a probable intent to restrict act- ivity to the events immediately surrounding the sacrifice, as noted in Kosch's definition of a Passion play.129 In the French plays the figure of Mary Magdalene is not employed either as extensively nor as effectively as in BenP. The harlot voices her remorse and contrition while proceeding to the Upper Room. She explains her intention to anoint her newly-found Savior with oil and wash His feet.130 The symbolic embodiment of sinful man so obvious in BenP, StG, and Vien is weakened considerably by an epic narration in the most general terms of her trespasses against God, as she reports: Mbut ai au cuer grant repentance De mes pechiez et rembrance. . . . (Palat 83-83) 131 01' Bien scat que quan iZ me vera Mes pechies me pardonera. (Autun R 106-107) These are indeed pale statements when compared with the dramatized life of Mary Magdalene in the German plays. The intensified impact of a staged circumstance contrasted with one of epic characteristics can easily be seen. The narration simply cannot provide the tension or possibility of identification with the figure inherent in a presented form. It has been suggested that Mary Magdalene's position as a French . . . . . 1 . . national saint at this time constrained poets. 32 I am more inclined 193 to accept Saxer's observations dealing with the general decline of the Magdalene's cult during the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, initiated in France already in 1265-67 with the decreasing importance of Vezelay,133 traditional objective of pilgrimages since about 1050.134 Mary's importance is not only mirrored in medieval drama, but perhaps her eclipse is reflected as well, especially in France. Whatever the reason, it is certain that the dramatic motivation of Mary in the five texts is similar, but far from identical. The French authors do not seem interested in investigating many of the doctrinal and social as- pects of her life which surround the Passion as are their German counter- parts. Spatial Mbvement Movement of time initiated by movement through space forms a sig- nificant structural element in Group II, responsible for much of the temporal succession found in these plays. StG, relying upon rubrics to establish place changes, shows evidence similar to that of Group I texts.135 Few exemplifications of what might be termed internal evidence of temporal succession, of dialog specifying or strongly. intimating alternation of place by one or more characters, were found in Group I plays. Their appearance is normally either prepared or confirmed by stage directions. Due to the extensiveness of StG, several more examples of dialog-transmitted evidence can be pinpointed. Among them are the statements by diaboZus, ”Ich furen dick uf'disen hohen berg", appended to the rubric, "Tune DiaboZus apprehendens Ihesum .,,’136 manu ducat [eum]in montem. and the calling of the blind man's - . . O father as a witness to his son's illness, "Samuel, kom her zu hant!/ 194 unser herre hat nach dir gesant" succeeded by the direction, "Quo 1 . . ." 37 Yet a third set of Circumstances veniente dieat cayphas. . makes itself known in the StG text: some spatial movement, hence, temporal succession, is purely internal, the change of location manifested solely within a actor's speech. Such is the case when the Healer commands the blind man: N; ganc inweg z£_dirre stunt: wasche daz abe un wis gesunt! (StG 403-404) The very next speech by the blind man,138uttered in the midst of several Jewish bystanders, can only indicate a change of place and succession of action, since it is the response to a command as well as the initial event of a long didactic sequence making plain the disbelief of the Jews. The facts as related make little dramatic sense unless they occur in a place from which Christ is absent.139 Wien relies upon rubrics and dialog supported by direction to signal its succession through spatial movement. Perhaps the most interesting application of this technique is found early in the Passion, when dominica persona ousts Lucifer from Heaven with the words: Var hin, Lucifer, in die heZZe mit allen dinen gecelle. (Wien 32-33) There issues a praise of God by the "good angels"(boni angeli), which bridges the previous happening with its successor, a scene occupy« ing an unspecified later time. According to interceding remarks, Lucifer, now appearing as a devil, is lead to his throne by his en- tourage.140 He cries loudly, " wet her geseZZen/aZZe aus der helle",14l an unmistakeable declaration from his own mouth that Lucifer and his attendants are indeed in a new place, as prescribed by God and, 195 coincidentally, find themselves in temporal surroundings existing some- time after their encounter and banishment. Internal evidence from speeches has established not only the locus alternation, but also the inevitable passage of time.142 On frequent occasions the French authors turn to internal dialog structure to signal location changes. The single exception to this rule is discovered in Autun B and derives from the several narrated events which define its reading adaptations. Let us first examine the normal method encountered in these Passions before considering the epic peculiarities of Autun B. If it were not for internal dialog evidence, the movement through space and attendant passage from one succeeding moment to another would be difficult to comprehend and vast portions of text might appear either unmotivated or perhaps even incomprehensible, a witness of poorly-con- structed theater indeed! Fortunately, we are dealing, not with incom- petence, but with a novel method of structuring time and motion, of incorporating it so completely into the text itself as to demand extreme care in its analysis and attention to detail.143 Evidence of spatial alteration internalized into the very speeches of actors obviates extensive stage directions. Attentive readers and audiences can follow the changes with ease, as the vast majority are signalled by the characters who move from one circumstance into another. In fact, this method of delineating space and time is, in many respects, dramatically superior to reliance on rubrics, for it internalizes and vocalizes the changes instead of merely reporting their occurrence; it is a play-imminent phenomenon of great value for later readers. These indicators also represent the strengths of simultaneous staging; 196 one need not report each and every movement supplemented by its ob— jective duration if all loca are continually before the audience. A short, but definite statement that movement will or has taken place is the sole criterion. Textual succinctness compliments the intensity of the stage remarkably well. Although several possibilities of structuring dialog exist, the prevalent pattern in Palat is generally tripartite in form: 1) most location changes are initiated by a command, request or suggestion; 2) the person making the journey acknowledges the undertaking (optional); 3) the same figure commences a dialog in the new place. Though no other indication that a journey was accomplished need be included, it must be assumed that movement of some duration has transpired, regardless of its degree of suggestion. Among the many incidences found throughout Palat where the internal dialog betrays a succession normally made clear by adverbial forms is the sequence 4 Cayn responds: in which Pilate tells Cayn to fetch a friend.14 Biau sire, et il me plait ainssi; Et je irai tout maintenant Pour faire te commandement. (Palat 552-556) The next speech is identified, "cayn a Huitacelin" (BA SS7). Cayn hails his friend and remarks: Li prevoz Pilate vous prie Et pour rien ne le laisse mie Que ne viegnes parler a lui. (Palat 559-561) The return to Pilate's court is introduced by Huitacelin's reply: Mbut tres volentiers ji irai Et son commandement ferai. (Palat 563-564) 197 Upon Huitacelin's assent fellow Cayn's words to Pilate: "Sire, veez 145 We see that an entire succession of events evolves ei Huitacelin." through internal dialog, one without aid of extraneous directions. In later circumstances the tendency to internalize motive signals is again exemplified. Caiaphas, receiving little satisfaction from his interrogation of Jesus, decides to deliver the Nazarene to Pilate 46 fer the penalty Jewish law forbids him.l Within a few verses Christ has been transported to Pilate's hall and Caiaphas is heard to introduce 147 Pilate soon "(In ypocrite, un tricheor,/Un desloyal, un traiteur". shuttles the high priest off to Herod, who, it is hoped, will accomplish the judgment which Pilate also cannot as yet condone, as he says: 148 Caiaphas' immediate speech, without bene- "A Herode puia li dires. " fit of directions denoting movement, is addressed to Herod and it is made clear that the band now before the governor of Galilee originates from Pilate's quarter: Sire Herode, Dieux vous doint joie! Li prevoz.PiZate vous envoie Jhesu que nous avons or pris. (Palat 357-359) Although one may find contexts wherein passages having their genesis in other loca interrupt the instant completion of spatial movement, such as that found in the Garden between Christ's first command for the disciples to awake149 and the second instance,150 interrupted by Judas' bargaining,or the initiation of the Last Supper151 punctuated by Jesus' entrance into Jerusalem, reported through the eyes of children,152 the tendency in Palat is to place the dialog in the new location and 153 time quite near the initial indication of movement. Still other alterations of place must be extrapolated from two separate statements, 198 for occasionally no internal hint of spatial movement is included. These situations constitute a decided minority of the evidence, 154 however. Autun R manages most of its locus transfers in a manner similar to 155 Few changes Palat, using command, acknowledgement, and fulfillment. of place remain unmotivated. Autun 8, due to its inclusion of numerous narrated rubrics, exhibits a novel state of affairs. To be sure, the author occasionally operates within internalized dialogs and signals impending or accom- plished scenic alteration. Jesus requests Peter and John to enter the cityznuiengage the Passover room; they express their willingness and the next verses indicate an accomplished journey.156 Pilate tells the Jews to take Christ to Herod.157 Thereupon the text reveals an immediate change to Herod's palace,158 much in keeping with the situation described for Palat.159 However, a meaningful number of changes of locale depend on information supplied by the narrated text, which either indicates the motion entirely within itself, or confirms the activity introduced in dialog. So Mary Magdalene expresses the desire to seek out her Lord and to find someone: who will allow her entrance into the Upper Room: vrayment il m'y vaul aller, Qui m'y voudra laissier entrer. (Autun B 146-147) The success of her search is reported immediately thereafter by the statement: Incontinant par l'uyt entra, De soubs la table se bouta. (Autun B 148-149) 199 Another example of this usage is found after Jesus expresses His need to commune with His Father,160 when it is reported: "Aprés on 161 jarden entra,/Piteusement son pere ora." The Master returns to the disciples to find them asleep, an act expressed in narration,162 but one necessary to link the previous speech with His ensuing warning.163 One might best term these narrated conditions epic rubrics, a concept which would consider their peculiar preterite form and their analogous function to normal directions contained in other plays.164 Few spatial transfers remain which exhibit incomplete definition. I was able to positively identify only one instance in both Autun B and Autun R, each occurring at identical points within the story. -The example involves the return of Jesus and the disciples to the room in Jerusalem prepared fer them by Peter and John. Peter first thanks the host fer his gracious generosity before returning to the position oc- cupied by the Christ. Here Peter infbrms the Master of the completed preparations: Sire, l'oste vous demande Il fera quanti'i vous plaira, Vblentiers vous abergera Et sa viende vous lyvrera. (Autun B 84-87) The succeeding rubric, "0r parle L'Oste a Jhesuchrist",165 compels a journey by the Lord to Jerusalem for the speech to take place. Here is one instance where temporal succession is mandated, but the motive stipulation is lacking. The identical circumstance prevails in Autun R. The situation was not likely to cause any spectator surprise or confoundement, for the symbolic nature of time passing on a journey between two places was readily accepted by medieval audiences. More- over, it fit well into the concepts of simultaneous staging. 200 Appearance and Withdrawal of’Characters The role played by appearances and exits of individuals in temporal succession was earlier identified.166 It was noted that an obligatory 'chain of figures' linking separate episodes and establishing a series of related events was mandatory for effective drama. In many respects this quality is innate in the Passion play, for the focal point of the drama is Jesus Christ. Similar to those of Group I, the texts of Group II either depict the Savior as the feature character or as a central figure to be discussed in almost every scene. I have already remarked on the succession created in StG, as the Lord ministers at Cana, is baptized by John, and overcomes the three temptations of the Devil. The essential figure of Christ binds these episodes into a meaningful succession identical to the manner revealed in Scripture. Additional examples may be found in StG, Palat, Autun B, and Autun R, where a core of necessary characters moves from one activity to another, others coming into view, departing the group (or the group going on to new events), then becoming active at a later time. The Crucifixion and the events leading to it provide a good example of this form of tem- poral succession. The StG playwright places a definite indication of the eventual outcome of the mounting conflict between Jesus and the high priests into his play. Caiaphas and Annas are first introduced as the un- believing interrogators of the man born blind.167 Their absolute disbelief in the Healer's powers are contained in Annas' parting words to the healed beggar: 201 Puch, d5 mast sin verloren, wan du bist in godes zorn un wilt ung doch alle leren: des must du von uns keren un wis ovon uns geschalten, wilt du din leben behalten! (StG 426— 431) The reader's next encounter with these characters takes place after Lazarus is raised. .The high priests are seen to plot the demise of their adversary. Annas asks: "Quid facimus, quia hic homo multa signa . l6 . . . . faczt?", 8 whereupon his religious confrere adVises: Expedit nobis, ut unus moriatur homo pro populo, et non tota gens pereat. (StG 665-666) Their second appearance, clearly occurring sometime after the first, constitutes a heightening of suspense and anticipation of the final outcome, for we first witnessed disbelief; now malice shows itself. The third exposure of the plotters finds them making the bargain for their quarry with a traitorous Judas.169 Succession and time have moved even closer to the hour of decision. The confrontation begins to develop in earnest with Jesus' arrest and presentation, first to . 170 171 . . . . one priest, then to the other. Their recalcitrance and intention to rid society of this heretical menace is unyielding, as Annas' reaction to Judas' repentance shows: Dine rede get uns nit an! hast du ubel oder wol gedan, das wirst du hie nach wol gewar.’ wilt du an die wit, so var! (StG 1025-28) . . . 172 The character Rufus, first introduced at Christ's arrest, as- sumes the role of official spokesman as the trials continue. He will present the Lord to Herod at Pilate's command, return Him to the latter's jurisdiction, and demand His death. Caiaphas puts in a relatively 202 unimportant appearance at the trial, and his arrival cannot be exactly . 173 . . . . determined. Rufus continues his antagonistic role on the way to 74 Annas and Caiaphas the Skull ("Stig uf} man mfiz dich henkenl").1 join the procession, adding their sarcastic comments to the Teacher's predicament and suffering.175 But their participation is not yet completed, for they also take it upon themselves to assure that the Resurrection does not occur by demanding soldiers to guard the grave.176 These two characters lend a realistic quality to the Passion tale by their coming and going on stage, though it must be recognized that a goodly portion of their attendance derives from biblical sources. The high priests of Palat first appear at the bargain for Jesus.177 Their manifestation, too, forms a temporal succession. Entrances or reintroductions of these persons emanate from foregoing scenes. Palat pictures the priests as the main accusers of the Lamb. They accompany Him from His appearance before them to the Crucifixion, continually moving from one circumstance to its successor as Christ's irascible antagonists. When the dramatic spotlight moves to scenes such as the forging of the nails178 or to the flagellation,179 where they are os- tensibly absent, their influence is still active and their reappearance at the close of these episodes is a foregone conclusion. Not for one moment do they rest their watchful eyes; they follow the Savior to His borrowed grave and then attempt to insure His destruction. Autun B and Autun R exhibit similar structures. The major differ- ences occur in the consistent presence of the priests. Here both texts chose to give much of the accusatory statements before Pilate and Herod to figures normally identified only as 'Juifa'. An adequate temporal succession results, but it has neither the potential to create as much 203 suspense as StG or Palat nor to clearly indicate succession.180 The temporal succession effected by the triple appearance of the angel to Mary Magdalene in BenP finds analogous circumstances in StG, where Martha's multiple repetition to her sister, separated in time by the calling of the disciples and the episode of the adultress, serves to rationalize and strengthen the Magdalene's final conversion. The careful temporal structuring of Martha's three warnings toher sinful sister, interspersed with Christ's divine ministry, not only present a dramatic contrast of character and motivation, but they also reveal a succession in time reflected in the repeated comings and goings of Mary and Martha. Wien reveals pressure on Mary from three different sources which culminate in her recognition of sin. Martha warns her,181 the messenger of Symon tells her of Christ's presence at his master's house,182 and an angel finally succeeds in opening her reluctant eyes 83 In the instance of Wien the temporal to the evils of her life.1 succession results from Mary's interaction on three separate occasions with a like number of characters, each adding to the urgency of her situation with increasing persuasiveness. Though these two plays build upon established dramatic tradition, each takes its sources one step further in the direction of diversification and intensity. The French plays, owing to the absence of a dramatized life of the Magdalene, lack the character definition of Mary inherent in the successive portraits of the German Passions. They substitute a rather bland portrait in which the repentance cycle has already passed the stages of confrontation, and is soon completed with Jesus' forgiveness. Little by way of temporal succession of heightened spectator interest can be found. 204 Succession by Dialog The accrual of material destined for dramatic performance in Group II Passions, the process by which familiar episodes become expanded by accumulated speeches and figures, coupled with the introduction of new events into the staged reality of medieval Passions, interposes previously unexperienced problems for structural analysis of succession by dialog. These examples from Montecassino and BenP. with the exception of the Mary Magdalene episode, uxor's dream, and Joseph of Arimathea's closing remarks to Pilate,184 generally constituted a dramatization of biblical material inherent in the story of the Passion; they were in- evitable bits of information whose general temporal relationships to one another were specified in Scripture. As we approach Group II, there arise numerous questions as to the necessity of many speeches, and a concomitant blurring of theoretical divisions. Several dialogs, though refering to a succession of events, may only be vehicles by which the story is moved forward and required by the account. Their inclusion may assume the form of the simple past tense, or their struc- ture may be elevated to one of epic reference to events happening within represented time, retrieved, but not dramatized. In either situation the information may be deemed necessary for both the faithful recapitulation of the tale and for its dramatic management. As such it provides data concerning the succession of the narrated or dramatized material ane not of the dramatization itself. Hints of the dramatic struCturing beyond the original source material may be discovered in circumstances involving extra-substantive material, such as the alter- nation and repetition by secondary characters of previous events.185 205 StG abounds with illustrations of temporal structuring through speech succession. In each instance a certain potential for suspense results from the repetition of information which is basically non- essential, but whose inclusion produces a highly effective drama. One of the most potent applications is witnessed in the conversion of Mary Magdalene. The text projects a picture of a worldly woman vain with pride. Her initial speech contains the unmistakeable reference to the greatest of medieval sins, that of vanitas: Ich bin [ein] vledig iunges wip un dragen einen stolzen lip. . . . (StG 202-203) 186 The conversion process undergone by Mary exhibits a threefold repe- tition of Martha's warning to her sister, each more forceful and weighty than the last. Martha first chooses to attack the earthly stay of man- kind, attempting thereby to dissuade her sinful sister from succumbing to the allures of worldly pleasure. Mary should concentrate on serving God in this life,187 a message which surely was felt in the souls of medieval bystanders. Martha's second caveat assumes greater consequence and power, as she now warns Mary that her foolishness will be rewarded in Hell.188 The recalcitrant wanton replies that her sister should go home and spin, a pastime more befitting an aging Martha than the younger Mary.189 In a short time Martha again confronts Mary, now with a reminder that all people account for their actions after death, at the Last Judgment.190 With this revelation the cloud falls from Mary's eyes and at last she senses her predicament. Mary's conversion has been initiated. Seen from a narrative standpoint, these thrice-repeated monitions contain no material which, left undramatized, would cause the 206 play to falter. Yet their inclusion serves not only to rationalize the character of Mary Magdalene into a more viable dramatic entity, it also serves to add structural and emotional depth to the play and heighten spectator interest. Mary is not simply converted by a heavenly visitor, her own sister responds to a perceived need, employ- ing all the standard arguments against secular life with which medieval congregations were continually bombarded. The auspicious repetition of like scenes, designed to accomplish an identical end, provides evidence of meaningful artistic manipulation of sources, placed into an effective temporal succession by judicious application of linguistic and dramatic alternatives. As the episode of the man born blind is developed by the StG writer, another instance of expressive repetition confronts the reader. When the Great Healer places mud upon the victim's eyes, He commands: N5 ganc inweg z§;dirre stunt: wasche daz abe un wis gesunt! (StG 403-404) This accomplished, Annas joins the scene with his doubts; the healed man narrates the history of his miracle, first in Latin, then German. Repetition of the primary facts, this time not by the Healer, rather by the healed,191 intensifies the original miracle, thereby sharply contrasting the faith of the simple villager with the continuing spiritual blindness of the high priest. The healed man is called upon to repeat his tale before Caiaphas within a few lines, and he narrates the wonder exactly as he did before Annas.192 A second repetition of the healing process further underscores the division between believer and disbeliever, now isolating from salvation the alternate instigator of Christ's death. As with the repetition of material from the 207 Magdalene episode, this case of the healed man twice relating his profound physical experience does net involve information absolutely necessary to the tale of Christ's Passion; rather its incorporation . . . . . l prec1pitates through speech the structure of dramatization itself. 93 A further means of building temporal succession by repetition can be found when a character provides the audience with a state of affairs culminating in staged circumstances.194 Normally such a statement reflects in some detail upon past events in the figure's life and integrates it into the present situation. StG includes a complaint by Mary Magdalene which in general terms establishes her sinful past and dependence on Jesus' mercy: ich han gesundet alzu vil uber aller rehter maze zil: daz ist mir innecliche leit. erzeuge mir din barmherzekeit oder ich bin umer me verlorn: uwe daz ich ie wart geborn! ich han grozer sunder vil gedan. (StG 328-334) By this remembrance of her previous dramatized failings the Magdalene recalls earlier events and places them in succession. At a later juncture StG causes a tormented Jesus to repeat in narrated form the promises of His disciples to remain faithful unto death, thus giving evidence of succession in the play. However, in this instance the formal result accomplishes much more than merely implying succession. At a point immediately prior to His prayer that the cup of bitterness might pass from Him, Jesus' words extend beyond Scripture to exhibit a pain which is more intensely felt by its specific re- collection of His followers' promises: 208 Mohtent ironit wachen eine stunt bit mir? nu_sprach doch uwer munt, ir wollent liden durch mich not, ob ez were der grimme dot! 0 e . nu slafent ir vil suze. . . . (StG 839-843) The contrast between the original oaths, particularly by Peter, and the present situation becomes more profound with this timely repetition of previously staged material; the conflict on the part of the disciples between desire and ability to see it fulfilled, originating in Gospel accounts, is here structurally magnified. Small units of structure in Wien are precipitated by repetition, but in contrast with StG they normally involve a restatement of already- staged events by the character at their center. Thus does Lucifer recall his lofty position among the angels prior to his fall.195 This situation is contrasted with his present circumstance, one in which Lucifer recognizes his Maker's wrath.196 But the evil spirit does not dwell upon his place in Hell; as is normal with such dialog-induced succession Lucifer relates these experiences to future activity. His anger is to be directed at God's special creation, man, first in the person of Adam and his family,197 then to all society. Such an epic repetition of dramatized incidents and examination of its relationship to an unpleasant present state of affairs precipitates not only the next step in the story, but actually rationalizes and causes the structure of the play to develop in a remarkably artistic manner. We are again dealing not with a source-mandated sequence, but with one which has a life and time of its own; the tale reflects skillful development and authorial manipulation of individual parts td create a play independent of slavish imitation, a singular statement on man's association 209 with God, and a satisfying literary experience in its own right.198 Palat recapitulates the events culminating in the Crucifixion, investigating it from three separate viewpoints, each repetition mag- nifying the original happening and fixing the sacrifice in the minds of spectators. The initial figure to review the central incidents is Satan. He elates at the shameful death among thieves of his adversary199 and narrates once again Judas' place in the conspiracy, coincidentally indicting himself by this revelation: Je pourchacay la treison, Le berat et la tricherie. anues si bele lecherie Ne fit deable ne maufe. 0r est li lerres atrapé; Mort et ocis par mon pechié. (Palat 1256-61) It is finally apparent to audience and reader alike that Judas was acting under'develishinfluences and the destruction of the Lord seemingly acccomplished, the forces of evil now glory in their ostensibly unrestricted power over mankind. This point of view lends credibility to the devils as active instigators of the Crucifixion, working through misguided men. As a literary device, whereby a portion of the play itself is precipitated and clarified, the dialog proves a clever and useful tool. But an even more significant reason for the repetition can be discerned: the devils ironically believe themselves victors and can discern no bonds or impediments in their path towards ultimate domination of man's spirit. Theyexhault,as have their human allies. However, this exhaltation merely sets them up for the not too distant triumph of Christ and the further restriction of their power. 210 A judicious reiteration of dramatized scenes in epic form not only more adequately relates the character delivering the dialog to events he narrates, it furthermore provides greater personality definition and introduces circumstances upon which future staging depends. The second point of view offered in repetition of the Crucifixion is that held by Mary Magdalene. While Satan delights in the tragedy, Mary grieves. She reviews Jesus' compassion with loving emotion: Vous estiez plains de si grant courtoisie Plain de pitie et plain de grant doucour. (Palat 1793-94) Somehow she knows the facts concerning Judas' treason and can only strongly and emphatically condemn it.201 Mary recalls that no disciple defended Christ at the arrest, a judgment which reinforces the Master's prophetic talents;202 the future time of arrest seen from the Last Supper became reality. Jesus proved His temporally-unbounded knowledge of events and human character. Much of Mary's lament at this point would seem to convey the official attitude of the medieval Church towards the Crucifixion and supporting data. Yet a third epic repetition of the Crucifixion, reinforced by the specification of guilty persons, is delivered by Joseph of Arimathea.203 His naming of the conspirators, as the preparation for removing the nails still holding the suspended Lord are made, must have provided a memorable and deeply-moving recollection for spectators of the earlier Crucifixion, further etching that event and its instigators into their memories. Such a multi-leveled organization affords insight into the persuasive power and structural underscoring which may be created by the skillful application of succession by dialog.204 211 A similar recapitulation of the Savior's trial and suffering on the Cross is contained in Autun B, with the scene reviewed from at least two independent perspectives. Mary the mother of Jesus bemoans her Son's passing in much the same fashion as Mary Magdalene and Joseph did in Palat.205 She, too, knows all the critical facts, from those developed in the Garden to His last gift to mankind. But probably the most sig- nificant review of the final hours of the Christ's life is provided by none other than Pilate, during an extensive dialog with Joseph.206 The Roman expresses his regret at condemning Jesus and offers several quotations by the Jews and his supposedly conscientious but unsuccessful efforts to arbitrate the situation in the Galilean's favor. The author paints a surprisingly sympathetic portrait of this reasonable, but weak governor, placing into his mouth citations from the trial which evince his great reluctance to become involved in an unjust proceeding: Jamais je ne m'an mesleres. (Autun B 1564) saichés qui je n'an feray rien. Laissés m'an paix; perdés vous temps. (Autun B 1576-77) N saichés, Juifz, qu'en se mechier Je n'ann ay culpe n'anssy vouldroye. (Autun B 1600-01) He even injects a curious note on the Anointed's innocence into his memory of the Jewish response to his last speech: Eyre Pilate, nous voulons, Et entre nous pourter voulons Que le sang de celug_inocens Soye sur nous—et sur nous enfens. (Autun B 1603-06) I am inclined to lay this apparent oversight squarely on the shoulders of the Passion writer as an instance indicative of how his own 212 prejudices and religious concepts occasionally insinuate themselves into his work. The author of Autun B even allows Joseph to refuse Pilate's guilt,207 a decision reminiscent of the apocryphal Gospel of Peter.208 By such a scene the Jews are further isolated as the true malefactors. There seems little doubt that this artist fundamentally saw Pilate as a victim of circumstance and, by including this epic recapitulation of the judicial process, structurally called the events again to mind to express the magistrate's relative innocence. No other text of Group II goes to such lengths to investigate Pilate's part in the history of Good Friday. A less developed, but equally effective scene wherein repetition plays a decisive part is that of the time immediately following the arrest of Jesus.209 John bewails the loss of their Master to Peter, but in so doing casts a cognitive eye on a recently occurring pre- monition of the Lord. He remembers the words foretelling the betrayal as he agonizes: Helas, bien dabvons estre esmeuz! Te souvient il quant il disir, Quant de nous voult departir, Que chascum de nous s'en furoyt Aussy tost comme prist seroit? Alous veoir que il feront De nostre maistre que perduz avont. (Autun 8 445-451) With this remembrance comes to John a revelation of a bit of Christ's supernatural character; he now realizes that the Messiah is not bound by time as man is, that He is indeed a timeless and eternal being, and that the future is also present to Him. But John's recognition can only Come after this infinite quality is proven. The artist of Autun B has skillfully called attention to it by the disciple's advantageous 213 recollection. This short scene also throws the thrice-repeated denial of Peter into perspective, for, although the denial is tale-obligated, this anterior dialog between John and Peter would now seem to indicate that Peter has still not seen its significance fer his own future. He has forgotten the prophecy of his own denial. In terms of inferential revelation, John is closer to comprehension than is Peter.210 Autun R picks up on the dialog between Pilate and Joseph, drama- tizing the former's attempts to justify his action to one who, in reality, has no power over him.211 Joseph assures Pilate of his in- nocence, concluding: sertes, il m'et bient avis Que vous n'aves gueyre mepris. (Autun R 920-921) The exchange is identical to its immediate relative, Autun B. save its constricted length. Bach text of Group II elicits temporal succession by the technique of question and answer. A close reading of the Passions, however, indicates that, with few exceptions, the resultant succession grows from biblical source accounts and constitutes a necessary unit of the story. Only those inquiries and retorts which aid in presenting novel material could be of significance for the deeper structure of the plays. Their potential to markedly expand spectator interest is low level and, though their presence should be acknowledged, little space need be af- forded their analysis.212 Plot When our attention is focused on the succession of dramatic moments induced by plot manipulation, those categories identified in Group I are 214 in most instances again contained in the Passions of the second group. Due to dramatic expansion of character and incorporated activity, the quantity increases, as does their relative intensity and effectiveness. a) Design and Realization STG'incorporates nearly all the scripturally-nmndatedsituations wherein a plan bears a future realization. The negative side of such designs, intrigue, constitutes a primary structural unit upon which the redactor builds. This artist, in contrast to his forebearer in BenP, does not reveal all elements of the plot simultaneously. Though he employs the same scriptural models, introducing via angels the council of Jews with the "Collegerunt ergo pontifices et Pharisaie"213 from John xi: 47-50, this dramaturge heightens the impact of his tale by evolving the plot against Jesus in several steps. He offers an initial picture of forces who oppose Jesus, but do not immediately decide His fate. Contrarily, they form a plan of attack. The next step in the intrigue finds Judas making contact with the priests, agreeing to sell Him for thirty pennies.214 This scene is isolated from surrounding events, but is staged simultaneously with portions of the Last Supper. The third occasion shows Judas again seeking out the Jewish leaders, acting at the same time in whichtfiuaIntercessor prepares to enter the Garden.215 Finally, the unfaithful disciple identifies the signal with which he will betray his Master, but this development is not reported until we have gained a view of Jesus communing with his Father in Gethsemane.216 These four events, although they constitute essential parts of the story, are structured in such a manner as to increase their impact, for they continually contrast with scenes from the Last 215 Supper. They display two opposing forces moving towards the final conflict. These events will be detailed in the discussion of tempo. A subsequent situation finds John the apostle reporting the latest news to Mary concerning her Son's arrest.217 In response to these unwelcome tidings, Mary expresses her intention to seek Him out, ac- 218 The decision practically assures an companied by other women. episode further into the play which will include Mary's arrival at the place where her Son is held. The announced intention precipitates the structure of this particular dramatization by impelling a future scene. Most of the remaining examples of the technique of creating temporal succession by design and realization involve strictly source-stipulated inclusions or those, such as the Longinus episode, which we have seen . 2 . . . in Group I. 19 StG possesses innumerable areas which could eaSily have been made extremely effective by this phenomenon, but the majority are made dramatically inoperative by a force external to the represented history, the person of Augustinus. A single illustration of this state of affairs will suffice to clarify my contention. Early in the play Augustinus interrupts the dramatization of Christ's life to report: Wbllent ir n5 [mit] zuhten gedagen, so wil man uch nu sagen wie des divels gehalkeit Ihesum in der wustenheit versuchte in drier hande wis: des wolt er haben grozen pris. (StG 139-144) It is not difficult to imagine a relatively effective monolog for diabolus, wherein he might express the above information in the form of a plan or intrigue. The presence of'Augustinus, so judicious and efficaceous in other areas of consideration, destroys here a dramatic 216 potential of some literary value. I attribute the lack of more extensive application of plan and realization to his active participation as interlocutor, guide, and exegete. But there is ample evidence that the playwright of StG knew and mastered his source material and medium to a degree which can satisfy even modern readers. The beginning sequences of Wien,in which Lucifer and Satan are so active, provide a useful and well-developed incidence of design and realization. Lucifer presents a plan in command form to Satan: wir sulen alle do nach ringen, dgz wir sie (die Menschheit) 25 uns bringen. Nu wol hin, ir chnehte min, bringet mir Adam unt die sin! (Wien 76-79) The general outlines of the plan have been discussed and agreed upon . . . 2 . . . . . in preV1ous lines, 20 but the speCific method of realization is left to Satan. The manuscript of Palat opens with the wish and plan of Jesus to dine with his followers one last time before His earthly life is . . 2 . . . sacrificed. 21 Succeeding moments of seeking out the host and making the physical arrangements form the dramatized realization which depends on the original design for its structural rational. Mary Magdalene also announces her intention of locating her Lord and receiving for- giveness: Ses piez en oindra doucement Quant bien lave les averai Des lermes que je plorerai, De mes chevex les essuierai; Puis aprés si li baiserai. Bien se, quant as me vorrai faire, Tant est preudom et debonaire, De mes pechiez avia pardon Et envers lui remission. (Palat 88-96) 217 These intentions reflect exactly Mary's actions and Christ's gift of divine forgiveness. A coming confrontation of sinner and Lord is made ineluctable, the structure of dramatic succession created by the two scenes working in temporal harmony. The intrigue of the Jewish pontiffs naturally occupies a significant position in the technique of temporal succession in Palat, but its man- ipulation appears to be much less artistic or striking than that of StG. There is some textual evidence to suggest that Judas' betrayal happens simultaneously with the Garden scene. This probability will be pursued in future paragraphs. But the plot against Jesus and its resolution into His arrest are concentrated into one sequence, including Judas' initial contact with his co-conspirators the bargain, and the arrest.222 There is not even so much as a hint of any temporal separa- tion, as Judas gives the sign of betrayal to his band and Jesus is immediately aware of his nearness;223 this without benefit of scenic transition.224 Autun B and Autun R both present expected designs and realizations, indicating a close kinship to Palat. Again the spectator sees Mary Magdalene enroute to the place of the Passover meal, expressing her intentions to annoint her Savior,225 and Judas setting the arrest in motion,226likewise appearing in conglomerate form as it did in Palat. John expresses his decision to investigate Christ's predicament at closer quarters,227 but no indication of his accomplishment can be discerned. The guards at the sepulchre again boast of their prowess, setting up the Resurrection by their vain words.228 Of the remaining illustrations, most owe their inclusion to biblical sources and seem simply unavoidable. 218 b) Command and Execution As attention is turned to the application of command and execution in Group II texts, a circumstance similar to that prevailing in Group I becomes apparent; decrees and strong suggestions form a substantial part of the biblical source material and offer several 'given' situations which define the tale in representation. However, no line can be drawn between purely scriptural commands and those developed from new material. The command and its execution forms such a fundamental step of succession that its inclusion is nearly ineludible.229 One extraordinary use of command and assumed compliance involves Augustinus and the angels of StG. Both continually ask for quiet during the play, responding not only to the difficulties of open air stages, but also to a desire on the author's part to structure his work. The interruption by angels, beings from a mythical or timeless realm, serve to accentuate the importance of impending dramatization; they set the stage by insuring an attentive audience. Reference to Table 5 will indicate the consistency with which the angels are employed in StG. In several instances they accompany Augustinus, who himself stresses the events of the Passion which succeed his appearance. In StG we find the institution (If command designed to formally organize and manage the dramatization of Christ's suffering, not merely to move the story itself forward. 0) Mention and Appearance of Characters The dramatic function of mention and appearance of mimetic figures and the manner in which it causes temporal succession was earlier iden- 230 tified. It now remains to ascertain what application, if any, is 219 made of this potential in texts of Group II. The greatest and most impressive means to introduce the reader or spectator to the centra1 figure is to delay his entrance on stage for several scenes, while others speak-of him. Aside from the introduction by Augustinus of the StG Christ, this author chooses to place his main character at the onset of dramatic activity. Jesus Himself defines some of His divine personality and attributes. One would assume that the theoretical potential fer telling dramatic succession would thereby be abrogated. But, as in other circumstances, this playwright has a pleasant surprise for us. The ensuing sequence of John the Baptist provides one of the best opportunities in medieval drama to observe the structural and dramatic power of a well-prepared appearance. To be sure, this writer remains faithful to records contained in Scripture, which constructs most of the sequence of events, but he so organizes his chain of events as to achieve remarkable integrity of Old and New Testament material on stage. The alterations the author makes to the Gospel accounts are subtle, but highly effective. The biblical story of John deals at length with his ministry. Two days comprise the time directly surrounding the Christ's movement to John and His baptism.231 Our artist judiciously presents the action as if it were a continuum of events within a more restricted time. He further concentrates dramatic activity of Jesus' appearance by deleting several of John's statements, such as thosereferringto the generation of vipers,232 and the axe laid to the tree roots.233 John's remaining speeches specifically look forward to the arrival of the True Savior, much as the biblical record stipulates. He accomplishes this by quoting the Old Testament,234 by relating his own lesser position to Christ,235 and ultimately announcing 220 , . 236 the Lord 5 arrival. The sequence moves from the general to the specific as John first warns the populace to better themselves through . 237 . . . . . . baptism, then identifies his capaCity as the one who prepares Christ's path by this sacred ritual-238 The final parallels are drawn as the Baptist christens sinners in the name of Him "der schiere nach mir 239 John's introductory role is completed when he speci- kommen sal." fically identifies his Master: sehent in mit augen an, von dem ich vor gesprochen han: er ist daz godes lamp vor war, daz der werlte [sunden] zwar un allen unseren schaden hat gar uf [sich] geladen! (StG 108-113) Jesus is no longer the Son of Mary who may entertain by changing water to wine; His historical place is hereby identified and His holy mission of sacrifice made explicit. The concluding step in the introductory 240 to the the termination of the process, from the 'Ecce agnus dei' above quote, is an artistic addition to the scriptural record of John's acquaintance with the Galilean. The remaining four texts do not exhibit a.similar succession. Some appearances of decidedly secondary figures are signaled by persons who discuss a specific need for their services, but their dramatic im- . . . . . . 2 pact is slight, as is their importance for temporal succeSSion. 41 Passage of‘Yime Before continuing with the analysis of the tempo of succession, I wish to extend this discussion of temporal succession to those entities which make their first appearances in Passions of the second chronological classification. One experience of succession in 221 representation involves the recognition of the passage of time. Several figures in these plays make reference to the time of day or to the duration of an activity, sometimes expressed in truly cosmic dimensions. As a result of the identification of time and its movement forward we are able to decipher more accurately the amount of represented time actually staged and to determine the activities which do not receive dramatic life. We recognize in StG that approximately ninety-six hours 242 to the elapse from Lazarus' initial complaint of physical discomfort arrival of Jesus on the scene.243 Martha is the person who provides this evidence, when she reports to her Lord: Nein herre, er (Lazarus) stinket als ein hunt, wan es ist hude der virde dag daz er in dem grabe lag! (StG 617-619) The text reveals that these four days are marginally filled with the annunciation to the Great Healer of Lazarus' desperate condition, return of the messenger to Mary and Martha, the Redeemer's decision to travel to Lazarus, His arrival, and Mary's twice-repeated admonition, "Domine, si fuisses hic,/frater meus no fuisset mortuus."244 Dramatic activity focuses upon events near the advent of Lazarus' death and again towards its premature suspension. This leaves the greater por- tion of the journey and preparations at both ends completely uncon- sidered. John's Gospel reports essentially the same information, but includes the statement that Jesus remained at His locus for some time before undertaking the trip.245 Apparently what transpired during those four days was of minimal importance for the author's message (and for John's, too). As with Scripture, the predominant interest and force of the time reference is that Christ's beloved friend had been in the 222 grave for many days and that his body had begun the natural process of decay. Martha's graphic observation, ”er stinket als ein hunt," under- lines Lazarus' foulness. This miracle of divine healing, the most momentous of them all, convincingly proves the Lord's dominion ever even death, a fact of central importance to Christian theology; the declaration of the passage of time potentially strengthens this idea. The Jew Malchus picks up the preponderance of the feur days of Lazarus' entombment, adding at once to its dramatic impact and voicing the growing opposition to Jesus: Lazarus was unser genoz: den each ich sicherlichen dbt. der selbe als ime Ihesus gebat, erstunt an dem vierden dage! bit warheit ich daz sage! das bringet die werlet gar in den sin, daz sie gleubent alle an in! (StG 632-638) Those same four days which characterized Jesus' absolute mastery over human life and death now become a real threat to those who currently wield power. The StG playwright skillfully shows not only the positive, but also the negative effects of the wonder. Indeed, the good deed functions as the greatest single element setting the opposition to Christ in motion; specific portions of later structure are rationalized and developed around this miracle, an excellent example of artistic mastery over form and content within the restricted scope of sources and possibilities of the epoch. A second instance of the announced passage of time in StG pro- vides an indication (HFthe vast scope and prominence of the Passion for man. As the Savior's spirit confronts Lucifer and his subordinates in the Harrowing of Hell, time, expressed solely in human terms, becomes 223 inconsequential and a temporal reference of enormous proportions is substituted. Here in the mythical and timeless realm of eternal punishment, where temporal concepts approach infinity, Lucifer becomes greatly agitated at the command by Dominus: "Tbllite, portas".246 In all his five thousand years in Hell he has never witnessed such a 247 Adam, who has suffered those millenia in 48 knocking upon his doors. perdition, rejoices that his seemingly infinite pain is now ended.2 With such a temporal assertion, the doctrinal significance and necessity of the Passion is dramatically established; original sin, which for eons has held mankind in its sway, is forgiven and humanity is relieved of its unbearable burden. Medieval man may have recognized his own temporal relationship to his Lord by the alignment of lengthy punishment with its eventual abrogation. Certainly he perceived Christ as one unbound by human time, a being who actually exerted mastery over the course of human history, indeed, one who contained the entire temporal reference of history in Himself. A seemingly inconsequential statement of temporal succession provides the key to understanding much of the doctrine of religion which constantly insinuated itself into the structure of medieval drama. Palat correspondingly dramatizes souls who rejoice over their freedom from Hell's grasp, a bondage reported as having endured "mil anz et plus".249 Tempo of'Succession With the larger number of scenes and characters, augmented by greatly detailed speeches, comes an alteration of the tempo of succes- sion which contributes to the artistry and dramatic depth of Group II Passions. The playwrights of the early fourteenth century were guided 224 by a fundamental interest in deepening audience reaction to the Lord's sacrifice, an interest which caused them to dwell at length on par- ticular occurrences, to develop concepts and ideas, character relation- ships and conflicts inherent in Scripture, and to reform them into effective religious and dramatic statements. This is not to maintain that a continuous plane of inspired or innovative construction can be established for all Passions of the period, but to identify the pre- sence of trends in artistic manipulation of tempo which serve as a collective impetus for future writers. Each of these plays exhibits some degree of tempo acceleration and a contrasting retardation of the motion of represented time on stage. The result is often a dramatic product which possesses the capacity to incite, maintain, or increase spectator interest. Due to the dramatization of various events from Christ's ministry, numerous temporal lacunae can be identified in StG, the result of an accelerated view of many months or years of activity. The initial phenomenon of acceleration appears between the Wedding at Cana and John the Baptist's message concerning Jesus and His eventual baptism. Since the preserved chronology in John, one which relates both incidents, is substantially altered, there can be no meaningful conclusion relative to the amount of represented time which may have been eliminated. It would seem that the structure of StG at this point is merely a function of a basic concentration. We experience therefore acceleration when the disciples receive their calling. StG only notes two, Peter and Andrew, who symbolize all twelve.250 By mentioning only two fellowers, and detailing in broad terms their acceptance of the call, the author 225 avoids dramatically unfruitful terrain, the inclusion of which would only dilute and needlessly reduce the tempo of succession. For reasons of dramatic expediency and possibly due to the lack of any source guidance, the three-day period from Jesus' death to His Resurrection, the time spent harrowing Hell and binding the Devil, is presented in 48 verses. They naturally convey the central theme of OriginalIMNINSredemption, but allow one speaker, Adam, to symbolize the multitude of waiting souls. However. I wish to defer a more detailed analysis of the scene for a later time. One of the most effective incidents of acceleration in StG involves Mary Magdalene. Her story assumes greater structural and aesthetic importance when coupled to a sudden retardation of tempo as she approach- es realization, contrition, and forgiveness. Although the exact amount of represented time incorporated into Mary's story is unclear, the development and rationalization of her character separated into three individual units, is obviously conceived as occurring in temporal parallel with other episodes which span many days, months, or even years. These events which correspond to Mary's life are the calling of the disciples and the story of the adultress. Both suggest that Mary's sins and Martha's vain attempts to influence her sister are protracted in time.. Mary's unclean life, dramatized by recounting only its most salient features and referring to them in a great temporal duration, assumes deeper significance as she nears a personal decision. The continuance of sin, simulated by acceleration, contrasts admirably with the sudden reduction of tempo, wherein the relatively few moments of the saint's repentance, the journey to Christ's locus, and eventual forgiveness receive detailed dramatization. With this relaxation of 226 tempo comes one of the first dramatic highpoints of StG. Steinbach views the dramatic affiliation between the worldly activities of the sinner and the Messiah from a more traditional vantage point, but also notes a most cogent structure, designed to teach: Deg Beng der Worte Magdalenens auf die Mahnung Jesu ist unuberhorbar. .Damit ist deutlich, dasz die Verknupfung zwischen diesen beiden Szenen nicht kausal-IOgisch. sondern ana-logisch ist. Die einzelnen Szenen gehen nicht auseinander hervor, sondern spiegeln sich ineinander und erhellen sich so gegenseitig.25 Steinbach's comments lend further credulity to the conclusions I have reached through the study of the structuring process in StG. Much of the remaining duration of scenes in StG may be attributed to fidelity to scriptural material. Those events, the healing of the blind man and his interrogation by the Jewish priests, the raising of Lazarus, the Last Supper, the trials of Jesus, and His Crucifixion, all lie at the heart of the Gospel accounts and reflect there a mean- ingful retardation.252 Even the StG Flagellation, which in later renditions is developed to a cruel episode of uncomfortable realism, closely resembles its source. The scene is reported primarily in rubrics,253 with only the blasphemous 'Ave, rem Judaeorum' of the torturers repeated in Latin and then in German.254 As I have previously mentioned, the extensiveness of Wien creates a tempo of succession which is extreme in its acceleration. Events in represented time range from Lucifer's banishment to a view of contem- porary medieval sinners in Hell, all are dramatized within 273 verses of presented time. The lacunae which result are obvious upon even the most cursory reading. Despite such an unusual temporal struc- ture, a remarkably pointed and convincing relationship is constructed 227 between the original introduction of evil into the world and the continually worsening situation just prior to the naiscence of a Savior. Temporal acceleration in this instance cuts through all matters of secondary importance to reveal an overwhelming malaise, a growth of evil demanding the sacrifice of the Son of Man. The cosmic proportions of the problem are Shown by the exclusion of practically all the Old Testament and the early years of Christ's ministry. Contrary to the method of spanning great periods of historical time with a sentencecnr two from several distinct episodes, as we noted in the first five scenes of BenP, this playwright chooses to dwell at some length on four tem— porally successive, but associated events.255 He thereby momentarily introduces retardation into each. The fall of Adam and Eve, for instance, is investigated in detail, filling lll verses. The Genesis account of original sin receives a dramatic form in keeping with Scripture. But a commensurate scene of some length is appended to the Old Testament, one which is separated from it in time by countless eons; four souls are led into the presence of Lucifer to account for their misdeeds. A medieval usurer, a monk, an enchantress, and a thief all deliver mono- logs, each identifying his particular sin and each receiving his just punishment.256 These interactions between sinner and devil occupy 90 verses in presentational time and indicate a highly effective pause inside the temporal rush towards the Passion. The incidents which deal with Mary Magdalene also compel this author to retard his tempo to investigate her motivation in depth. He accomplishes this by picturing Mary as a worldly medieval woman, knowledgeable in the arts of courtly love and well-versed in contem- porary knmslyrics. Mary is introduced with her lover;257 then, 228 approaching the merchant, she speaks the celebrated 'Michi confer, venditor'.258 The writer verbally expands these moments, adding definition to Mary with each new phrase. It is impossible to deter- mine the exact amount of time presented here, but it would seem to be less than that suggested by the same scene in StG. The largest body of preserved text is reserved for the description of Mary's repentance and absolution, a total of 133 verses. Again, a perfectly limitable time frame for the activity cannot be established, though all evidence 259 In any case, when indicates a period of a few minutes or hours. compared with the enormous sweep of activities depicted in earlier phases of the play, the Magdalene experience concentrates attention into a time of surprisingly short duration, providing detail by retardation of succession. Although the main thrust of this analysis is not the investigation of probable sources for specific episodes or characters, a glance at the fund of material in circulation at the time of Group II Passion writing will aid in determining why Mary Magdalene plays such a vital role in these two German Passion plays. I shall restrict my comments to the account of Wien, which contains all essential developments found in StG as well, but goes far beyond it in intensity. It will be of value to review briefly the religious attitudes about the Magdalene which were prevalent in the first half of the fourteenth century. Despite the acceleration of the eclipse of Magdalene piety which, it will be recalled, commenced as early as 1265-67 in vezelay, a de- cline which was intensified during the second half of the fourteenth- century260 in France and England,261 in Germany and Belgium her cult 229 continued to exert a remarkably forceful influence; the weiszfrauen movement expanded into new territories "a cause de l'accélération propre ."262 In German- au mouvement general de la ferveur madgalénienne. speaking lands, from whence the cult may have originally been intro- duced into France,263 the figure of this sinful person, the one to whom Christ chose to first appear, survived to give witness to medieval man of Christ's healing love. Having introduced very superficially the tenor of religious thinking which surrounds these fourteenth-century texts, I would like now to investigate possible literary inputs which may explain the position of Mary Madgalene in German plays. Little question can In: raised concerning the particularly useful and impressive integration by the BenP author of Mary Magdalene. Regardless of what the initial impulses for her prominence in this early Passion might have been,264 and notwithstanding the obvious borrowing from Marian laments, secular Latin songs, and vernacular love lyrics which were accomplished, the fact remains that the Magdalene of BenP was a stroke of dramatic near-genius; the fusion of doctrine and example was so complete that both Wien and StG, as well as plays of much later origin, contain the core character of the BenP Mary Magdalene supported by the means of realizing it set out by that first redactor.26S Several Latin laments of Wien repeat verses from BenP.266 Further, Mary Magdalene approaches the spice merchant with a repetition of the 'Michi confer' lyrics,267 and praises her worldly life in the identical manner seen in BenP, namely with the sensuous 'Mundi delectacio', though it has been moved in Wien to a position subsequent to the visit to the merchant. 230 Considering these borrowings and others like them,268 it appears probable that Wien owes much of its Magdalene figure to its predecessor of one hundred or more years, or to some other unpreserved manuscript very much like it. But this observation fails to do justice to the accomplishments of the unknown artist who made the composite Magdalene his own; he borrowed a dramatically intense portrayal of the woman of Magdala, but infused her with even more dramatic life, reflecting a greater use of medieval culture and society than any creator of Mary Magdalene before him. The result is a personality possessing superior potential to express to medieval man in familiar terms the power of divine redemption. Retardation of tempo to investigate Mary's character is indicative not only of her latent dramatic puissance, but also of her status in Church doctrine and teaching. The author ac- complishes this temporal concentration by l) broadening the application of the vernacular folk song to a vain Mary269 and 2) expanding the vernacular development of Mary's character. These are the literary inputs which account for the lively dramatization of Mary in Wien. I have indicated in a previous context how Mary's medieval , qualities are extended by the placing of Middle High German love songs and secular Latin lyrics on her lips.270 R.M. Meyer has uncovered many parallels to Wien 309 and its companion verse, Wien 307, which are both based on BenP 44 ("wertlich vreude deu ist gfit" = "Minne tuet eu hoech gemfit" and "hat gehBt mir den mfit"), all found in contemporary love lyrics of the most well-known Minnesgnger from the preceding century.272 An audience familiar with these songs has ample oppor- tunity to observe Mary's sinful progress through life, presented in terms of the courtly ideal. There seems to exist a further desire on 231 the part of the Wien redactor to make Mary more comprehending of secular Latin lyrics. He achieves the goal, not by eliminating all Latin verses from the drama, but by elaborating on their essential tone and intent in the vernacular. In one instance the stagewright goes as far to note: "In theutonico eadem sunt. . . ." This strange apparition occurs as the introduction to a general paraphrase of the tone of the 'Mundi delectacio': wertlich vreude deu ist gfit, deu ist mir worden sfize, sie hat gehoet mir den mut, svie och ich beggze! (Wien 307-310) The author of this Passion then continues with the 'Mantellied', which has no Latin parallel. Although some of the traditional points of doctrinal interest are retained in their original Latin ferms, the playwright most often offers at least a paraphrase of them into German.273 When dealing with Mary Magdalene, however, he exercises the linguistic possibilities of the vernacular linked with contemporary society. Mary offers pecuniary reward to the vendor ("ich han silber unt golt, phennige, die sint swere")274 for medieval cosmetics ("wiltu 75 she dances with a 76 mir dor umbe iht geben rot vilzel unt wiz mel”);2 devil ("du solt mit mir tanzen/unt hubeschlichen swanzenl"),2 and even a portion of her repentance lament indicates her medieval cultural heritage: Owe, ich han gesundet mit prise und ouch mit tanzen! ich trug geverwet risen mit mangen hohem cranze! (Wien 411-414)277 In View of these facts the conclusion seems justified that the author of Wien was surrounded by literary material which lent itself 232 admirably to the vitalization and dramatic impact of Mary Magdalene upon medieval audiences. It would be erroneous to interpret all facets of Mary's character as original with the Wien artist, although I be- lieve that a great amount of artistry can also be shown by the effective borrowing and consolidation of already existing, but widely-separated attitudes and perceptions on a personage. The Wien author has succeeded in making the three separate Maries of the Bible his own, uniting them in his tale, not as the first literary man to deal with them, but as the one who up to and beyond his time most advantageously employed ambiant energies possessed by the Magdalene, infusing her with existing literary images. This felicitous augmentation of her character, combined with the well-documented background of reverence for Saint Mary Magdalene, has given us a dynamic, vivid, and lasting stage per- sonality. The tempo of succession employed to organize the French represent- atives of Group II convey varied states of artistry, resulting primarily from their scope of dramatization. Acceleration of tempo plays a minimal role in Palat. Certainly, several temporal empty areas can be identified, as in all staged activities, but this author tends much more towards extension of scenic length, character number and speeches, concentrating his work on less represented time and thereby creating stressed groups of actions within the play by retarding succession. The events first introduced follow one another in episodes of approximately the same presentational length, varying from 25 verses for the Jerusalem entry to 34 for the Last Supper.278 Only Judas' betrayal exceeds these quantities, as his avaricious character is portrayed along with the machinations of Annas.279 The trials receive extensive attention, 233 accounting for 258 verses. A significant number of verses transpire as Herod questions Jesus. The author takes the opportunity to review epically two representative miracles, the awakening of the dead (pos- sibly Lazarus) and the curing of the blind man, as well as to identify several other unspecified wonders.280 He investigates further the nature of Annas, placing harsh emotions on his lips and malice in his heart.281 Information delineating previous unstaged activities is thus suggested and the confrontation between Christ and the high priests elevated. Contrary to several later Passions,which seem needlessly to interrupt the flow of events towards the Crucifixion with the Herod episode, this author manages to provide not only the logical series of events as recorded by Mark,but also a hint of the vehemence of the Redeemer's adversaries. The flagellation of Palat provides the first extensive look into material dealing with the Christ's physical punishment at the hands of torturers.282 When this activity is compared with the most immediate relative of Palat, the Passion des Jengleurs, a gradual alteration of dramatic perspective can be sensed: the physical sufferings of the Savior are treated in ever-lengthening scenes, particularly in the French plays of the period. Concentration upon the triumphant Lord of the Resurrection moves towards an investigation of the Man of‘Sbrrows and His human torment.283 In contrast to StG, where this event was reported in rubric alone, Palat conveys the beating and attitudes of the torturers in detail. Pilate betrays the ferocity of the coming moments when he commands: A ce piler le Zieres, Et le bates d'unes courgiEes I Si que bien soient ensenglentees. 234 Et sachiez, se il se veut deffendre, De ce c'om me fait a entendre, Car il veut vostre lay abatre. (Palat 580-585) When the ownership of the Nazarene's garment is decided ( a deter- mination entailing 49 verses), Huitacelin, angered by his loss of the robe, voices the intention to exact a painful penalty from its former owner.284 It is not known how long the actual flagellation lasts, but a duration of some minutes can be assumed from the remarks of the torturers. Huitacelin admits to his comrade: "Cayn, je ne puis ferir plus."285 The second evildoer replies: Tant le poons batre et ferir Que plus ne sera tormente. (Palat 662-663) Three short lines pass before Cayn, too, admits that he can do no more damage: Compoins, je sui si fort lasse Que plus ne sera tormente. (Palat 666-667) .The time narrated by Matthew xxvii: 26 ("Iesum autem flagellatum tra- didit eis") becomes through retardation a period of severe suffering, a bitter prelude to the unfolding immolation. The Crucifixion itself, these six hours of extreme desolation, is magnified by dialog additions designed to rationalize characters and increase 'realism'. The time Christ spends on the Cross, if the griev- ings