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Kitabı oku: «Folk-lore of Shakespeare», sayfa 18
CHAPTER XI
CUSTOMS CONNECTED WITH THE CALENDAR
In years gone by the anniversaries connected with the calendar were kept up with an amount of enthusiasm and merry-making quite unknown at the present day. Thus, for instance, Shakespeare tells us, with regard to the May-day observance, that it was looked forward to so eagerly as to render it impossible to make the people sleep on this festive occasion. During the present century the popular celebrations of the festivals have been gradually on the decline, and nearly every year marks the disuse of some local custom. Shakespeare has not omitted to give a good many scattered allusions to the old superstitions and popular usages associated with the festivals of the year, some of which still survive in our midst.
Alluding to the revels, there can be no doubt that Shakespeare was indebted to the revel-books for some of his plots. Thus, in “The Tempest” (iv. 1), Prospero remarks to Ferdinand and Miranda, after Iris, Ceres, and Juno have appeared, and the dance of the nymphs is over:
“You do look, my son, in a mov’d sort,
As if you were dismay’d; be cheerful, sir.
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind.”
It has been inferred that Shakespeare was present at Kenilworth, in 1575, when Elizabeth was so grandly entertained there. Lakes and seas are represented in the masque. Triton, in the likeness of a mermaid, came towards the queen, says George Gascoigne, and “Arion appeared, sitting on a dolphin’s back.” In the dialogue in “A Midsummer-Night’s Dream,” between Oberon and Puck (ii. 1), there seems a direct allusion to this event:
“Oberon. My gentle Puck, come hither. Thou remember’st
Since once I sat upon a promontory,
And heard a mermaid on a dolphin’s back
Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath,
That the rude sea grew civil at her song,
And certain stars shot madly from their spheres,
To hear the sea-maid’s music.
Puck. I remember.”
Then, too, there were the “Children of the Revels,” a company who performed at Blackfriars Theatre. In “Hamlet” (ii. 2), Shakespeare alludes to these “children-players.”638 Rosencrantz says, in the conversation preceding the entry of the players, in reply to Hamlet’s inquiry whether the actors have suffered through the result of the late inhibition, evidently referring to the plague, “Nay, their endeavour keeps in the wonted pace; but there is, sir, an aery of children, little eyases, that cry out on the top of question, and are most tyrannically clapped for ’t; these are now the fashion; and so berattle the common stages – so they call them – that many wearing rapiers are afraid of goose-quills, and dare scarce come thither.”
Twelfth-Day. There can be no doubt that the title of Shakespeare’s play, “Twelfth Night,” took its origin in the festivities associated with this festival. The season has, from time immemorial, been one of merriment, “the more decided from being the proper close of the festivities of Christmas, when games of chance were traditionally rife, and the sport of sudden and casual elevation gave the tone of the time. Of like tone is the play, and to this,”639 says Mr. Lloyd, “it apparently owes its title.” The play, it appears, was probably originally acted at the barristers’ feast at the Middle Temple, on February 2, 1601-2, as Manningham tells us in his “Diary” (Camden Society, 1868, ed. J. Bruce, p. 18). It is worthy of note that the festive doings of the Inns of Court, in days gone by, at Christmas-tide were conducted on the most extravagant scale.640 In addition to the merry disports of the Lord of Misrule, there were various revels. The Christmas masque at Gray’s Inn, in 1594, was on a magnificent scale.
St. Valentine’s Day (Feb. 14). Whatever may be the historical origin of this festival, whether heathen or Christian, there can be no doubt of its antiquity. According to an old tradition, to which Chaucer refers, birds choose their mates on this day; and hence, in “A Midsummer-Night’s Dream” (iv. 1), Theseus asks:
“Good morrow, friends. St. Valentine is past:
Begin these wood-birds but to couple now?”
From this notion, it has been suggested, arose the once popular practice of choosing valentines, and also the common belief that the first two single persons who meet in the morning of St. Valentine’s day have a great chance of becoming wed to each other. This superstition is alluded to in Ophelia’s song in “Hamlet” (iv. 5):
“To-morrow is Saint Valentine’s day,
All in the morning betime,
And I a maid at your window,
To be your valentine.”
There seems every probability that St. Valentine’s day, with its many customs, has come down to us from the Romans, but was fathered upon St. Valentine in the earlier ages of the Church in order to Christianize it.641 In France St. Valentine’s was a movable feast, celebrated on the first Sunday in Lent, which was called the jour des brandons, because the boys carried about lighted torches on that day.
Shrove-Tuesday. This day was formerly devoted to feasting and merriment of every kind, but whence originated the custom of eating pancakes is still a matter of uncertainty. The practice is alluded to in “All’s Well that Ends Well” (ii. 2), where the clown speaks of “a pancake for Shrove-Tuesday.”642 In “Pericles” (ii. 1) they are termed “flap-jacks,” a term used by Taylor, the Water-Poet, in his “Jack-a-Lent Workes” (1630, vol. i. p. 115): “Until at last by the skill of the cooke it is transformed into the form of a flap-jack, which in our translation is called a pancake.” Shrovetide was, in times gone by, a season of such mirth that shroving, or to shrove, signified to be merry. Hence, in “2 Henry IV.” (v. 3), Justice Silence says:
“Be merry, be merry, my wife has all;
For women are shrews, both short and tall;
’Tis merry in hall, when beards wag all,
And welcome merry shrove-tide.
Be merry, be merry.”
It was a holiday and a day of license for apprentices, laboring persons, and others.643
Lent. This season was at one time marked by a custom now fallen into disuse. A figure, made up of straw and cast-off clothes, was drawn or carried through the streets amid much noise and merriment; after which it was either burned, shot at, or thrown down a chimney. This image was called a “Jack-a-Lent,” and was, according to some, intended to represent Judas Iscariot. It occurs twice in the “Merry Wives of Windsor;” once merely as a jocular appellation (iii. 3), where Mrs. Page says to Robin, “You little Jack-a-Lent, have you been true to us?” and once (v. 5) as a butt, or object of satire and attack, Falstaff remarking, “How wit may be made a Jack-a-Lent, when ’tis upon ill employment!” It is alluded to by Ben Jonson in his “Tale of a Tub” (iv. 2):
“Thou cam’st but half a thing into the world,
And wast made up of patches, parings, shreds;
Thou, that when last thou wert put out of service,
Travell’d to Hamstead Heath on an Ash Wednesday,
Where thou didst stand six weeks the Jack of Lent,
For boys to hurl three throws a penny at thee,
To make thee a purse.”
Elderton, in a ballad called “Lenton Stuff,” in a MS. in the Ashmolean Museum, thus concludes his account of Lent:644
“When Jakke a’ Lent comes justlynge in,
With the hedpeece of a herynge,
And saythe, repent yowe of yower syn,
For shame, syrs, leve yowre swerynge:
And to Palme Sonday doethe he ryde,
With sprots and herryngs by his syde,
And makes an end of Lenton tyde!”645
In the reign of Elizabeth butchers were strictly enjoined not to sell fleshmeat in Lent, not with a religious view, but for the double purpose646 of diminishing the consumption of fleshmeat during that period, and so making it more plentiful during the rest of the year, and of encouraging the fisheries and augmenting the number of seamen. Butchers, however, who had an interest at court frequently obtained a dispensation to kill a certain number of beasts a week during Lent; of which indulgence the wants of invalids, who could not subsist without animal food, was made the pretence. It is to this practice that Cade refers in “2 Henry VI.” (iv. 3), where he tells Dick, the butcher of Ashford: “Therefore, thus will I reward thee, – the Lent shall be as long again as it is; and thou shalt have a license to kill for a hundred lacking one.”
In “2 Henry IV.” (ii. 4), Falstaff mentions an indictment against Hostess Quickly, “for suffering flesh to be eaten in thy house, contrary to the law; for the which I think thou wilt howl.” Whereupon she replies, “All victuallers do so: what’s a joint of mutton or two in a whole Lent?”
The sparing fare in olden days, during Lent, is indirectly referred to by Rosencrantz in “Hamlet” (ii. 2): “To think, my lord, if you delight not in man, what lenten entertainment the players shall receive.” We may compare, too, Maria’s words in “Twelfth Night” (i. 5), where she speaks of a good lenten answer, i. e., short.
By a scrap of proverbial rhyme quoted by Mercutio in “Romeo and Juliet” (ii. 4), and the speech introducing it, it appears that a stale hare might be used to make a pie in Lent; he says:
“No hare, sir: unless a hare, sir, in a lenten pie, that is something stale and hoar ere it be spent.
An old hare hoar,
And an old hare hoar,
Is very good meat in Lent,” etc.
Scambling days. The days so called were Mondays and Saturdays in Lent, when no regular meals were provided, and our great families scambled. There may possibly be an indirect allusion to this custom in “Henry V.” (v. 2), where Shakespeare makes King Henry say: “If ever thou beest mine, Kate, as I have a saving faith within me tells me thou shalt, I get thee with scambling.” In the old household book of the fifth Earl of Northumberland there is a particular section appointing the order of service for these days, and so regulating the licentious contentions of them. We may, also, compare another passage in the same play (i. 1), where the Archbishop of Canterbury speaks of “the scambling and unquiet time.”
Good Friday. Beyond the bare allusion to this day, Shakespeare makes no reference to the many observances formerly associated with it. In “King John” (i. 1) he makes Philip the Bastard say to Lady Faulconbridge:
“Madam, I was not old Sir Robert’s son:
Sir Robert might have eat his part in me
Upon Good Friday, and ne’er broke his fast.”
And, in “1 Henry IV.” (i. 2), Poins inquires: “Jack, how agrees the devil and thee about thy soul, that thou soldest him on Good Friday last, for a cup of Madeira and a cold capon’s leg?”
Easter. According to a popular superstition, it is considered unlucky to omit wearing new clothes on Easter Day, to which Shakespeare no doubt alludes in “Romeo and Juliet” (iii. 1), when he makes Mercutio ask Benvolio whether he did “not fall out with a tailor for wearing his new doublet before Easter.” In East Yorkshire, on Easter Eve, young folks go to the nearest market-town to buy some new article of dress or personal adornment to wear for the first time on Easter Day, as otherwise they believe that birds – notably rooks or “crakes” – will spoil their clothes.647 In “Poor Robin’s Almanac” we are told:
“At Easter let your clothes be new,
Or else be sure you will it rue.”
Some think that the custom of “clacking” at Easter – which is not quite obsolete in some counties – is incidentally alluded to in “Measure for Measure” (iii. 2) by Lucio: “his use was, to put a ducat in her clack-dish.”648 The clack or clap dish was a wooden dish with a movable cover, formerly carried by beggars, which they clacked and clattered to show that it was empty. In this they received the alms. Lepers and other paupers deemed infectious originally used it, that the sound might give warning not to approach too near, and alms be given without touching the person.
A popular name for Easter Monday was Black Monday, so called, says Stow, because “in the 34th of Edward III. (1360), the 14th of April, and the morrow after Easter Day, King Edward, with his host, lay before the city of Paris; which day was full dark of mist and hail, and so bitter cold, that many men died on their horses’ backs with the cold. Wherefore unto this day it hath been call’d the Blacke Monday.” Thus, in the “Merchant of Venice” (ii. 5), Launcelot says, “it was not for nothing that my nose fell a-bleeding on Black Monday last at six o’clock i’ the morning.”
St. David’s Day (March 1). This day is observed by the Welsh in honor of St. David, their patron saint, when, as a sign of their patriotism, they wear a leek. Much doubt exists as to the origin of this custom. According to the Welsh, it is because St. David ordered his Britons to place leeks in their caps, that they might be distinguished from their Saxon foes. Shakespeare introduces the custom into his play of “Henry V.” (iv. 7), where Fluellen, addressing the monarch, says:
“Your grandfather of famous memory, an’t please your majesty, and your great uncle Edward the Plack Prince of Wales, as I have read in the chronicles, fought a most prave pattle here in France.
K. Henry. They did, Fluellen.
Flu. Your majesty says very true: if your majesties is remembered of it, the Welshmen did goot service in a garden where leeks did grow, wearing leeks in their Monmouth caps; which, your majesty know, to this hour is an honourable padge of the service; and I do pelieve, your majesty takes no scorn to wear the leek upon Saint Tavy’s day.”
It has been justly pointed out, however, that this allusion by Fluellen to the Welsh having worn the leek in battle under the Black Prince is not, as some writers suppose, wholly decisive of its having originated in the fields of Cressy, but rather shows that when Shakespeare wrote Welshmen wore leeks.649 In the same play, too (iv. 1), the well-remembered Fluellen’s enforcement of Pistol to eat the leek he had ridiculed further establishes the wearing as a usage. Pistol says:
“Tell him I’ll knock his leek about his pate
Upon Saint Davy’s day.”
In days gone by this day was observed by royalty; and in 1695 we read how William III. wore a leek on St. David’s Day, “presented to him by his sergeant, Porter, who hath as perquisites all the wearing apparel his majestie had on that day, even to his sword.” It appears that formerly, among other customs, a Welshman was burned in effigy upon “St. Tavy’s Day,” an allusion to which occurs in “Poor Robin’s Almanack” for 1757:
“But it would make a stranger laugh,
To see th’ English hang poor Taff:
A pair of breeches and a coat,
Hat, shoes, and stockings, and what not,
Are stuffed with hay, to represent
The Cambrian hero thereby meant.”
St. Patrick’s Day (March 17). Shakespeare, in “Hamlet” (i. 5), makes the Danish prince swear by St. Patrick, on which Warburton remarks that the whole northern world had their learning from Ireland.650 As Mr. Singer651 observes, however, it is more probable that the poet seized the first popular imprecation that came to his mind, without regarding whether it suited the country or character of the person to whom he gave it. Some, again, have supposed that there is a reference here to St. Patrick’s purgatory, but this does not seem probable.
St. George’s Day (April 23). St. George, the guardian saint of England, is often alluded to by Shakespeare. His festival, which was formerly celebrated by feasts of cities and corporations, is now almost passed over without notice. Thus, Bedford, in “1 Henry VI.” (i. 1), speaks of keeping “our great Saint George’s feast withal.” “God and St. George” was once a common battle-cry, several references to which occur in Shakespeare’s plays. Thus, in “Henry V.” (iii. 1), the king says to his soldiers:652
“Cry, God for Harry, England, and Saint George.”
Again, in “1 Henry VI.” (iv. 2), Talbot says:
“God and Saint George, Talbot and England’s right,
Prosper our colours in this dangerous fight!”
The following injunction, from an old act of war, concerning the use of St. George’s name in onsets, is curious: “Item, that all souldiers entering into battaile, assault, skirmish, or other faction of armes, shall have for their common crye and word, St. George, forward, or, Upon them, St. George, whereby the souldier is much comforted, and the enemie dismaied, by calling to minde the ancient valour of England, with which that name has so often been victorious.”653
The combat of this saint on horseback with a dragon has been very long established as a subject for sign-painting. In “King John” (ii. 1) Philip says:
“Saint George, that swing’d the dragon, and e’er since
Sits on his horseback at mine hostess’ door.”
It is still a very favorite sign. In London alone654 there are said to be no less than sixty-six public-houses and taverns with the sign of St. George and the Dragon, not counting beer-houses and coffee-houses.
May Day. The festival of May day has, from the earliest times, been most popular in this country, on account of its association with the joyous season of spring. It was formerly celebrated with far greater enthusiasm than nowadays, for Bourne tells us how the young people were in the habit of rising a little after midnight and walking to some neighboring wood, accompanied with music and the blowing of horns, where they broke down branches from the trees, which, decorated with nosegays and garlands of flowers, were brought home soon after sunrise, and placed at their doors and windows. Shakespeare, alluding to this practice, informs us how eagerly it was looked forward to, and that it was impossible to make the people sleep on May morning. Thus, in “Henry VIII.” (v. 4), it is said:
“Pray, sir, be patient: ’tis as much impossible —
Unless we sweep ’em from the door with cannons —
To scatter ’em, as ’tis to make ’em sleep
On May-day morning.”
Again, in “A Midsummer-Night’s Dream” (i. 1), Lysander, speaking of these May-day observances, says to Hermia:
“If thou lov’st me, then,
Steal forth thy father’s house to-morrow night;
And in the wood, a league without the town,
Where I did meet thee once with Helena,
To do observance to a morn of May,
There will I stay for thee.”
And Theseus says (iv. 1):
In the “Two Noble Kinsmen” (ii. 3), one of the four countrymen asks: “Do we all hold against the Maying?”
In Chaucer’s “Court of Love” we read that early on May day “Fourth goth al the Court, both most and lest, to fetche the flowris fresh and blome.” In the reign of Henry VIII. it is on record that the heads of the corporation of London went out into the high grounds of Kent to gather the May, and were met on Shooter’s Hill by the king and his queen, Katherine of Arragon, as they were coming from the palace of Greenwich. Until within a comparatively recent period, this custom still lingered in some of the counties. Thus, at Newcastle-upon-Tyne, the following doggerel was sung:
“Rise up, maidens, fie for shame!
For I’ve been four long miles from hame,
I’ve been gathering my garlands gay,
Rise up, fair maidens, and take in your May.”
Many of the ballads sung nowadays, in country places, by the village children, on May morning, as they carry their garlands from door to door, undoubtedly refer to the old practice of going a-Maying, although fallen into disuse.
In olden times nearly every village had its May-pole, around which, decorated with wreaths of flowers, ribbons, and flags, our merry ancestors danced from morning till night. The earliest representation of an English May-pole is that published in the “Variorum Shakespeare,” and depicted on a window at Betley, in Staffordshire, then the property of Mr. Tollet, and which he was disposed to think as old as the time of Henry VIII. The pole is planted in a mound of earth, and has affixed to it St. George’s red-cross banner and a white pennon or streamer with a forked end. The shaft of the pole is painted in a diagonal line of black colors upon a yellow ground, a characteristic decoration of all these ancient May-poles, as alluded to by Shakespeare in “A Midsummer-Night’s Dream” (iii. 2), where it gives point to Hermia’s allusion to her rival Helena as “a painted May-pole.”656 The popularity of the May-pole in former centuries is shown by the fact that one of our London parishes, St. Andrew Undershaft, derives its name from the May-pole which overhung its steeple, a reference to which we find made by Geoffrey Chaucer, who, speaking of a vain boaster, says:
“Right well aloft, and high ye bear your head,
As ye would bear the great shaft of Cornhill.”
London, indeed, had several May-poles, one of which stood in Basing Lane, near St. Paul’s Cathedral. It was a large fir pole, forty feet high and fifteen inches in diameter, and fabled to be the justing staff of Gerard the Giant. Only a few, however, of the old May-poles remain scattered here and there throughout the country. One still supports a weathercock in the churchyard at Pendleton, Manchester; and in Derbyshire, a few years ago, several were to be seen standing on some of the village greens. The rhymes made use of as the people danced round the May-pole varied according to the locality, and oftentimes combined a curious mixture of the jocose and sacred.
Another feature of the May-day festivities was the morris-dance, the principal characters of which generally were Robin Hood, Maid Marian, Scarlet, Stokesley, Little John, the Hobby-horse, the Bavian or Fool, Tom the Piper, with his pipe and tabor. The number of characters varied much at different times and places. In “All’s Well that Ends Well” (ii. 2), the clown says: “As fit as ten groats is for the hand of an attorney … a morris for May-day.”657
In “2 Henry VI.” (iii. 1) the Duke of York says of Cade:
“I have seen
Him caper upright, like a wild Morisco,
Shaking the bloody darts, as he his bells.”
In the “Two Noble Kinsmen” (iii. 5) Gerrold, the schoolmaster, thus describes to King Theseus the morris-dance:
“If you but favour, our country pastime made is.
We are a few of those collected here,
That ruder tongues distinguish villagers;
And, to say verity and not to fable,
We are a merry rout, or else a rable,
Or company, or, by a figure, choris,
That ’fore thy dignity will dance a morris.
And I, that am the rectifier of all,
By title Pædagogus, that let fall
The birch upon the breeches of the small ones,
And humble with a ferula the tall ones,
Do here present this machine, or this frame:
And, dainty duke, whose doughty dismal fame,
From Dis to Dædalus, from post to pillar,
Is blown abroad, help me, thy poor well willer,
And, with thy twinkling eyes, look right and straight
Upon this mighty morr– of mickle weight —
Is– now comes in, which being glu’d together
Makes morris, and the cause that we came hether,
The body of our sport, of no small study.
I first appear, though rude, and raw, and muddy,
To speak, before thy noble grace, this tenner;
At whose great feet I offer up my penner:
The next, the Lord of May and Lady bright,
The chambermaid and serving-man, by night
That seek out silent hanging: then mine host
And his fat spouse, that welcomes to their cost
The galled traveller, and with a beck’ning,
Inform the tapster to inflame the reck’ning:
Then the beast-eating clown, and next the fool,
The bavian, with long tail and eke long tool;
Cum multis aliis that make a dance:
Say ‘Ay,’ and all shall presently advance.”
Among the scattered allusions to the characters of this dance may be noticed that in “1 Henry IV.” (iii. 3): “and for womanhood, Maid Marian may be the deputy’s wife of the ward to thee” – the allusion being to “the degraded Maid Marian of the later morris-dance, more male than female.”658
The “hobby-horse,” another personage of the morris-dance on May day, was occasionally omitted, and appears to have given rise to a popular ballad, a line of which is given by “Hamlet” (iii. 2):
“For, O, for, O, the hobby-horse is forgot.”
This is quoted again in “Love’s Labour’s Lost” (iii. 1). The hobby-horse was formed by a pasteboard horse’s head, and a light frame made of wicker-work to join the hinder parts. This was fastened round the body of a man, and covered with a foot-cloth which nearly reached the ground, and concealed the legs of the performer, who displayed his antic equestrian skill, and performed various juggling tricks, to the amusement of the bystanders. In Sir Walter Scott’s “Monastery” there is a spirited description of the hobby-horse.
The term “hobby-horse” was applied to a loose woman, and in the “Winter’s Tale” (i. 2) it is so used by Leontes, who says to Camillo:
“Then say
My wife’s a hobby-horse; deserves a name
As rank as any flax-wench, that puts to
Before her troth-plight.”
In “Othello” (iv. 1), Bianca, speaking of Desdemona’s handkerchief, says to Cassio: “This is some minx’s token, and I must take out the work! There, give it your hobby-horse.” It seems also to have denoted a silly fellow, as in “Much Ado About Nothing” (iii. 2), where it is so used by Benedick.
Another character was Friar Tuck, the chaplain of Robin Hood, and as such is noticed in the “Two Gentlemen of Verona” (iv. 1), where one of the outlaws swears:
“By the bare scalp of Robin Hood’s fat friar.”
He is also represented by Tollet as a Franciscan friar in the full clerical tonsure, for, as he adds, “When the parish priests were inhibited by the diocesan to assist in the May games, the Franciscans might give attendance, as being exempted from episcopal jurisdiction.”659
It was no uncommon occurrence for metrical interludes of a comic species, and founded on the achievements of the outlaw Robin Hood, to be performed after the morris, on the May-pole green. Mr. Drake thinks that these interludes are alluded to in “Twelfth Night” (iii. 4), where Fabian exclaims, on the approach of Sir Andrew Aguecheek with his challenge, “More matter for a May morning.”
Whitsuntide. Apart from its observance as a religious festival, Whitsuntide was, in times past, celebrated with much ceremony. In the Catholic times of England it was usual to dramatize the descent of the Holy Ghost, which this festival commemorates – a custom which we find alluded to in Barnaby Googe’s translation of Naogeorgus:
“On Whit-Sunday white pigeons tame in strings from heaven flie,
And one that framed is of wood still hangeth in the skie,
Thou seest how they with idols play, and teach the people too:
None otherwise than little girls with puppets used to do.”
This custom appears to have been carried to an extravagant height in Spain, for Mr. Fosbroke660 tells us that the gift of the Holy Ghost was represented by “thunder from engines which did much damage.” Water, oak leaves, burning torches, wafers, and cakes were thrown down from the church roof; pigeons and small birds, with cakes tied to their legs, were let loose; and a long censer was swung up and down. In our own country, many costly pageants were exhibited at this season. Thus, at Chester, the Whitsun Mysteries were acted during the Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday in Whitsun week. The performers were carried from one place to another by means of a scaffold – a huge and ponderous machine mounted on wheels, gayly decorated with flags, and divided into two compartments – the upper of which formed the stage, and the lower, defended from vulgar curiosity by coarse canvas draperies, answered the purposes of a green-room. To each craft in the city a separate mystery was allotted. Thus, the drapers exhibited the “Creation,” the tanners took the “Fall of Lucifer,” the water-carriers of the Dee acted the “Deluge,” etc. The production, too, of these pageants was extremely costly; indeed, each one has been set down at fifteen or twenty pounds sterling. An allusion to this custom is made in the “Two Gentlemen of Verona” (iv. 4), where Julia says:
“At Pentecost,
When all our pageants of delight were play’d,
Our youth got me to play the woman’s part,
And I was trimm’d in Madam Julia’s gown.”
The morris-dance, too, was formerly a common accompaniment to the Whitsun ales, a practice which is still kept up in many parts of the country. In “Henry V.” (ii. 4), the Dauphin thus alludes to it:
“I say, ’tis meet we all go forth,
To view the sick and feeble parts of France:
And let us do it with no show of fear;
No, with no more than if we heard that England
Were busied with a Whitsun morris-dance.”
And once more, in the “Winter’s Tale” (iv. 4), Perdita says to Florizel:
“Methinks I play as I have seen them do
In Whitsun pastorals.”
A custom formerly kept up in connection with Whitsuntide was the “Whitsun ale.” Ale was so prevalent a drink among us in olden times as to become a part of the name of various festal meetings, as Leet ale, Lamb ale, Bride ale (bridal), and, as we see, Whitsun ale. Thus our ancestors were in the habit of holding parochial meetings every Whitsuntide, usually in some barn near the church, consisting of a kind of picnic, as each parishioner brought what victuals he could spare. The ale, which had been brewed pretty strong for the occasion, was sold by the churchwardens, and from its profits a fund arose for the repair of the church.661 These meetings are referred to by Shakespeare in “Pericles” (i. 1):
“It hath been sung at festivals,
On ember-eves and holy-ales.”
In the “Two Gentlemen of Verona” (ii. 5), when Launce tells Speed, “thou hast not so much charity in thee as to go to the ale with a Christian,” these words have been explained to mean the rural festival so named, though, as Mr. Dyce remarks (“Glossary,” p. 10), the previous words of Launce, “go with me to the ale-house,” show this explanation to be wrong.
In the old miracle-plays performed at this and other seasons Herod was a favorite personage, and was generally represented as a tyrant of a very overbearing, violent character. Thus Hamlet says (iii. 2): “O, it offends me to the soul, to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to tatters, to very rags, to split the ears of the groundlings; who, for the most part, are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb-shows and noise: I would have such a fellow whipped for o’er-doing Termagant; it out-herods Herod.” On this account Alexas mentions him as the most daring character when he tells Cleopatra (“Antony and Cleopatra,” iii. 3):
