Anonymous
THE SECOND SHEPHERD'' PLAY
Late Fourteenth Century
In the late medieval cycles of plays celebrating human history from the Creation through the incarnation to the Day of Judgment, there was place for a play about the shepherds to whom came an angel with tidings that a savior was born. In the cycle at Wakefield, in Yorkshire, there were two such plays,called simply The First and The Second Shepherd's Plays. The latter is the crowning achievement of the author, whom we know only as the Wakefield Master, and perhaps of the religious drama of the Middle Ages.
The world of this play, like that of medieval art generally, comprehends, but is not con- fined by, particularities of time and space. Although Christ is not yet born in the early scenes, the shepherds call upon His Cross and His name and also upon Christian saints, among them St. Nicholas, who lived more than three centuries after Christ. Also, the shepherds seem firmly grounded near Wakefield, inasmuch as the nearby village of Horbury is referred to; yet when the angel sends them to Bethlehem, they go, arriving before dawn and without crossing water. Such literal impossibilities seem not to have concerned artists who, from the perspective of eternity, saw history as synchronous, space as seamless and unitary. And in their art they captured, both realistically and ritualistically, timely and timeless truths.
The liveried retainers who expropriate to their own use the goods of such underlings as Coll ; the feckless and procreant among the lower orders, like Mak and Gill, who cog, shuffle, and filch, with imagination if without much success ; and the lowly and oppressed herdsmen who scrabble for a living and find little more than song and the brief charitable impulses of their own hearts to rejoice in--these come to us with remarkable particularity from the Wakefield Master's contemporary experience ; yet surely they embody as well the nature and condition of such men as, fourteen centuries before, would have journeyed to the town of Bethlehem or dwelt in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks by night.
Mary and the "little day-star" in her lap, by contrast, are unique as well as typical. To render them vivid as a mother and child, the same kind of particularity that the Wakefield Master had invested in the shepherds was needed. To celebrate them as the transcendent Mother and Child, ritual was called for-- in the pageants of communal drama as in the services of the Church. And these modes are handled with a brilliance virtually unexampled.
In the beginning, when the three shepherds lament the political, domestic, and natural causes of their suffering, and when they are joined by the light-fingered and slippery-tongued night-walker Mak, the mode is realistic if anachronistic. Even here, though, we see symbolic elements anticipating the Adoration of the Christ Child. This is the darkenss before the dawn, the suffering before the redemption, and the local flood is likened to the Flood of Noah, the antetype of Christ, who preserved a remnant of mankind from destruction and with whom the Lord established an everlasting covenant.
In the play's middle portion realism is again the mode--comic realism now, exploiting the petty irritabilities of the shepherds, the cat-and-dog marriage of Mak and Gill, the theft and discovery of the sheep. Nevertheless, for all the comedy, the symbols gain in intensity. Mak, commending himself to the hands of Pontius Pilate and then casting a spell on the shepherds, looms momentarily as the devil. Gill's device for hiding the sheep is a false nativity, preparing by contrast for the true one to follow. Mak's anticipated meal and his somewhat insistent invitations to the shephers to eat and drink are clear if oblique reminders of the mass, the eucharistic feast.
In the final scene the realistic detail typifies as before--more powerfully, perhaps; certainly without the former hint of abrasiveness--as the shepherds off their humble gifts and bestow on the child just such happy affection as men have felt at cradles throughout all ages: "he merries," "he laughs," "darling dear." The element of ritual, anticipated by the earlier symbols, now achieves its fullest expression. No longer allusively but directly the play deals with Mary and her Son. In one of the imposing tableaux of Christian art, the shepherds kneel and are inspired to a litany of grateful praise, uniting worship with natural affection in perfect expression of their faith that God has become man :
Hail, sovereign savior . . .
Hail, little tiny mop!
When they depart, singing, to publish their story, the miracle of spirit made flesh and dwelling among mankind has been fully confirmed as a vision at once contemporary and timeless.
Late Fourteenth Century
119
Scene 1 | The Second Shepherds' Play
THE SECOND SHEPHERD'S PLAY
Anonymous
Adapted by Arthur M. Eastman from the modernizations of Clarence Griffin Child and Martial Rose
CHARACTERS
COLLthe first shepherd
GIBthe second shepherd
DAWthe third shepherd, a boy
MAKthe sheep-stealer
GILLMak's wife
ANGEL
MARYwith the baby Jesus
SCENE 1
[The open fields.]
COLL. Lord, but this weather is cold, and I
[am ill wrapped,
Near numb, were truth told, so long have I
5 [napped.
My legs they fold, my fingers are chapped.
It is not as I would, for I am all lapped
In sorrow.
In storms and tempest,
10Now in the east, now in the west,
Woe is him has never rest
Modification of The Second Shepherds' Play of the Towneley Cycle as translated by Clarence Griffin Child, from Riverside Literature Series Number ??, copyright(c) 1910, 1938 by Houghton Mifflin Company. "The Second Shepards' Play" from the book The Wakefield Mystery Plays edited by Martial Rose. Copyright 1961 by Martial Rose. Republished by Doubleday & Company, Inc. /
Now or tomorrow.
But we simple shepherds that walk on the moor,In faith, we are near-hands out of the door.*No wonder, as it stands, if we be poor, 15For the tilth* of our lands lies as fallow as the [floor,As you ken.*We are so lamed,Overtaxed and maimed, 20 We are made hand-tamed,By these gentry men.
They rob us of our rest, our Lady them harry! These men that are lord-fast,* they cause the [plow tarry. 25 That, men say, is for the best; we find it contrary.Thus are husbandmen oppressed, in point to [miscarry,In life. 30Thus hold they us under,Thus bring us to blunder;It were great wonder,If ever we should thrive.
Get a man a liveried sleeve or a brooch, 35 [nowadaysWoe is him that him grieves, or once him [gainsays!No blame may he receive, howe'er grasping [his ways;40And yet may no man believe one word that he [says--Not a letter.He can seize what he's lacking,Boastfully and bragging ; 45And all is through the backingOf men who are greater.
There shall come a swain, a proud peacock, [you know ;He must borrow my wain, my plough also; 50
near-hands . . . door nearly homelesstilth arable part
ken know
lord-fast attached to or retained by lords
120
ANONYMOUS | Scene 1
These I am full fain to grant ere he go.Thus live we in pain, anger and woeBy night and day.He must have, if he choose,5 What I must needs lose;I were better hanged than refuse,Than once say him nay.
It does me good, as I walk thus on my own,Of this world for to talk, and so make my 10[moan.To my sleep will I stalk and harken anon,There abide on a balk* or sit on a stoneFull soon.For I trow, pardie,*15 True men, if they be,We get more companyEre it be noon.
[He steps aside. Gib enters.]
GIB. Benste and Dominus!* What may this 20 [mean?The wold faring thus, how oft have we seen?Lord, this weather works through us, and the [wind is full keen,And the frosts so hideous they water mine25[een.*No lie!Now in dry, now in wet,Now in snow, now in sleet,When my shoes freeze to my feet,30 It's not at all easy.
But as far as I ken, whereever I go,We poor wedded men suffer much woe;We have sorrow ever again--it falls often so.Silly Copple, our hen, both to and fro35 She cackles;But begin she to croakTo groan or to cluck,For our cock it's no joke
balk strip of grassland between plowed fieldstrow, pardie believe, by God
Benste . . . Dominusbless us (benste is a shortened form of benedicte) and Lord
een eyes /
For he is in shackles.
These men that are wed have not all their will; 40When they're full hard bestead,* they sigh [mighty still.God knows the life they're led is full hard and [full ill;In bower nor in bed may they speak their will. 45This tide*My part have I found,Learned my lesson sound:Woe to him who is bound,For he must it abide. 50
But now late in our lives--a marvel to me,That I think my heart rives such wonders to[see;That which destiny drives will come to be--Some neb will have two wives, and some men55 [three
In store.Some are grieved that have any,But I'll wager my pennyWoe is him that has many, 60For he feels sore!
But, young men, of wooing, for God that you [bought,Beware well of wedding, and hold well in [thought, 65"Had I known" is a thing that serves not a jot.Much constant mourning has wedding home [brought,And grief,With many a sharp shower,* 70For you may catch in an hourWhat shall savor] full sourAs long as you live.
For,as e'er read I Epistle, I have one to my fere,*As sharp as a thistle, as rough as a briar.She is browed like a bristle, with a sour face by [her.
bestead put to ittide timeshower painfere mate
121Scene 1 |The Second Shepherds' Play
If she once wets her whistle, she can sing full [clearHer paternoster.As great as a whale,5She has a gallon of gall.By hym that died for us all,I would I'd run till I'd lost her! GOLL. Gib, look over the row! Full deafly you [stand.
10 GIBB. Yea, the devil in your maw, so tarrying!Did'st see aught of Daw?
COLL. Yea, on a lea-land*
I heard him blow.* He comes nearat hand,
Not far.
15 Stand still.
GIB. Why?
COLL.For he comes, think I.
GIB.He will beguile us with a lie
Unless we beware.
20 [Enter DAW.]
DAW. Christ's cross me speed, and Saint [Nicholas!
Thereof have I need; it is worse than it was.
Who knows should take heed and let the world 25[pass ;
I'll ever it speed ; it's as brittle as glass,
And drifts.
But the world never fared so,
And marvels greater grow--
30Now in weal, now in woe--
And everything shifts.
Was never since Noah's flood such floodings [seen,
Winds and rains so rude and storms so keen :
35 Some stammered, some stood in doub,* as I [ween.
Now God turn all to good! I say as I mean,
For ponder :
These floods they so drown,
40 Both in fields and in town,
And bear all down ;
lea-land meadow
blow i.e., his horn
Some . . . doubti.e., at the time of Noah's flood /
And that is a wonder.
We that walk in the nights our cattlr to keep,We see fearful sights when other men sleep[Catching sight of the others.]. 45Yet my heart grows light-- I see rascals a peep.[Aside.] You two are tall weights* -- I will give [my sheepA turn, belowBut full ill have I meant ;* 50As I walk on this bent,*I may lightly repent,If I stub my toe.
Ah, sir, God, you save, and master mine!A drink would I have and somwhat to dine. 55
COLL. Christ's curse, my knave, you're a lazy [hind!GIB. What! Let the boy rave ! --Wait till later
[this time.
We've had our food. 60
I'll luck to your pate!--
Though the knave came late,
Yet he's in a state
To sup, if he could.
DAW. Such servants as I, who work and 65
[sweat,
Eat our bread full dry, and that makes me fret.
We're oft wet and weary while our masters
[sleep yet ;
But comes full tardy the food that we get-- 70
And less than our due.
Both our dame and our sire,
When we've run in the mire,
Take a nip at our hire--
And pay us late, too. 75
But hear my truth, master, for the fare that you [pay
I shall work hereafter--tit for tat is fair play.
I shall do little, sir, but sport as I may,
tall wights proper creatures ; i.e., a fine pair
But . . . meant Daw reproves himself for the disrespect he has just expressed toward his elders, then, in the following lines, proposes for himself an easy penance
bent field
122
ANONYMOUS | Scene I
For ne'er does my supper my stomach dismay In fields.Why should I threap?*With my staff can I leap ;*5 Men say, "Bargain cheapBut a poor return yields."
COLL. You were an ill lad to go a-wooingWith a master that had but little for spending.
GIB. Peace, I say, lad. No more jangling,
10 Or I'll make you full sad, by heaven's king!
Your gauds--*
Where are our sheep, boy?-- we scorn.
DAW. Sir, this same day at morn*
I left them in the corn,
15When thay rang Lauds.*
They have pasture good, thay cannot go wrong.
COLL. That is right. By the rood,* these [nights are long!
Ere we go now, I would someone gave us a
20[song.
GIB. So I thought as I stood, to cheer us
[along.
DAW.
I agree.
25 COLL. The tenor I'll try.
GIB. And I the treble so high.
DAW.Then the mean* shall be I.
How you chant now, let's see!
[They sing. Then MAK enters, wearing a
30 cloak.]
MAK. Now, lord, for thy seven names' spell [that made the stars on high,
Full more than I can tell, thy will for me lack I.
I'm all at odds, naught's well--that oft my 35[brains doth try.
threap haggle
With . . . leap i.e., run away
gauds pranks
morn i.e., after midnight
Laudsmatins, the church service held at midnight (as here) or dawn
rood cross
mean middle part /
Would God I might in heaven dwell, for there [no children cry,So shrill. COLL.Who is it pipes so poor? MAK. Would God you knew of me, sure! 40Lo, a man that walks on the moor,And has not all his will!
GIB. Mak, whither do you speed? What news[do you bring?
DAW.Is he come?Then take heed each one to 45[his thing.
[He takes Mak's cloak from him.]
MAK. I be a yeoman, indeed, under the king,
The self and the same. A lord's message I [bring-- 50
No lie.
Fie on you! Go hence
Out of my presence!
I must have reverence.
Why, who be I? 55
COLL.Why play it so quaint? Mak, you do [wrong.
GIB. Would you play the saint? For that do
[you long?
DAW. With words he can paint--the devil 60
[him hang!
MAK. I'll make a complaint : you'll be flogged [ere long,
At a word.
And wracked without ruth.
COLL. But, Mak, is that truth?
Now take outt that sothern tooth,*
And set in a turd.
GIB. Mak, the devil in your eye! A blow I'd
[fain give you. 70
DAW . Mak, know you not me? By God, I
[could beat you!
MAK. God keep you all three! Methought I
[had seen you.
You're a fair company! 75
COLL. Now you remember, do you?
southern toothMak has been speaking in a southern dialect.
123
Scene 1 |The Second Shepherds' Play
GIB.
Take heed!
When thus late a man goes,
What will folks suppose?
5 You've a bad name, God knows,
For stealing of sheep.
MAK. That I am true as steel no men debate,
But a sickness I feel has brought me to this
[state:
10 My belly lacks a meal and suffers ill fate.
DAW. "Seldom lies the de'il dead by the [gate."*
MAK.
Therefore
15 Full sore am I and ill;
May I turn stone still
If I've eaten a morsel
This month and more.
COLL. How fares your wife? By my hood,
20[how fares she?
MAK. Sprawling, by the rood, at the fire
[she'll be,
And a house full of brood. With the bottle
[she's free--
25 For else not much good for aught I can see
Or do.
Eats as fast as she can,
And each year that comes to a man
Adds another to our clan--
30 And some years two.
Now were I richer and full of purse
I'd eaten clear out of home and house.
She's a foul dear, if look you durst!
There's none can see her, who knows a worse
35 Than know I.
Would you see what I'd proffer?
I'd give all in my coffer
For her soul might I offer
A prayer for aye.
40 GIB. I know so wearied none is in this shire;
"Seldom . . . gate" proverbial : appearances are deceptive / I'd sleep though I earned less for my hire.
DAW. I'm cold and naked and long for a fire.
COLL. I'm weary with walk and am covered
[with mire.
Look to!45
GIB. Nay, near shall I lie
For I must sleep soundly.
DAW. As good a man's son, I,
As any of you.
[They lie down.] 50
But, Mak, come lie here--in between--if you [please.
MAK. You'll be hindered, I fear, from talking
[at ease,
Indeed.
[He lies among them. They sleep.]
From my top to my toe,
Manus tuas commendo,
Pontio Pilato.*
Christ's cross me speed! 60
[He rises.]
It is time to strike ere the iron grows cold,
And craftily creep now into the fold,
And nimbly to work, but not be too bold,
For bitter the bargain, if all were told 65
At the ending.
Time now for haste, truth to tell,
But he needs good counsel
That fain would fare well
With but little for spending. 70
Put about you a circle as round as the moon,
[He draws the circle.]
Till I have done what I will, until it be noon,
Lie you stone still until I have done
While I summon my skill some magic to croon. 75
"On high,
Over your heads I raise my hand.
Your sight is lost on sea and land!"
But I must gain much more command
Manus . . . Pilato I commend your hands to Pontius Pilate
124
ANONYMOUS | Scene II
To work it right.