The earliest wholly secular Interlude that still survives, Henry Medwall’s Fulgens and Lucres invites vigorous scholarly attempts to reconstruct the contexts behind its first staging in 1497. The play’s secular and humanistic concerns of marriage and true nobility, its political function as a diplomatic entertainment, and last of all, its indoor setting unique to the genre of Interlude necessitate the examination of the contextual circumstances that led to its composition and performance, such as the political and social backdrop behind Medwall’s commissioned writing of the play, the playwright s relationship with the early Tudor Politics and contemporary dramaturgical practice, and the technical difficulties and solutions in staging indoors the play about an obscure common man having an ascendancy over a nobleman in the presence of diplomatic emissaries and noble audience. Mainly dealing with the social and political scenes both inside and outside the venue of the play’s performance, this paper aims to supplement other previous studies done on the play’ relation to the early Tudor politics and the performance aspects of Tudor Interlude in general.
I. “The First Secular Interlude that Has Survived”
Interlude,1 often derogated as a mere transitional type between medieval religious and Elizabethan drama, generally refers to the short indoor play mostly popular in the Tudor era. The “first complete and wholly secular Interlude that has survived” (Wickham 37), Henry Medwall’s
Critics and historians generally agree that
In all probability,
If we accept the consensus by most critics regarding the premiere year of
The goal of this essay is reconstituting the contextual circumstance of the play rather than giving it a conventional literary analysis or evaluation. This rather biased examination on the extraliterary and contextual background of the play, I hope, may supplement the enlightening work done earlier by T. W. Craik on the performance aspect of the Tudor Interlude in general as well as other scattered studies that have topically discussed the play’s political and social backgrounds.
1‘Interlude,’ put hereafter with the first letter ‘I’ capitalized according to its customary usage. 2Quotations from Fulgens, cited hereafter by part and line number.
II. Outside the Venue―Early Tudor Politics and Diplomacy
Having wrested the throne from King Richard III and become the first Tudor monarch, Henry VII was faced with the urgent need to secure a bridgehead on the Continent and legitimize the crown he had usurped. He eventually found this chance in the alliance with Spain. Arthur, Henry’s first son born during the second year of his reign, was to play a critical part in the realization of this continental plan. Henry hoped to solidify his monarchy through the betrothal of his heir to Catherine of Aragon, the youngest daughter of Ferdinand, the king of Spain. While Henry “purchased” (Anglo,
The historical account above surrounding the early Tudor diplomacy with Spain is to contextualize the presence of Spanish ambassadors in 1497 at Lambeth Palace, the residence of the Archbishop of Canterbury. Although the time discrepancy can be hardly resolved between August, the month of the betrothal, and Christmas, the season when Morton hosted the Christmas feast and put on the performance of
Not just an amusement or pastime to relieve the tedium of courtly life, court festivals under the reign of Henry VII served as crucial “instruments of prestige propaganda” (Anglo,
Treating and entertaining foreign envoys in the capacity of Lord President of the Privy Council and Archbishop of Canterbury, John Morton in fact stood proxy for the King. Thus the virtual master of his Christmas feast in 1497 was in fact Henry the King, and the subject of marriage central to the plot of
One puzzling issue, however, concerns the poor origin of this virtuous bridegroom. David Bevington asserts it was devised to defend Henry’s open policy towards hiring talents for state offices regardless of social ranks, which he strategically executed to counterbalance the old feudal system which was potentially threatening his crown. Even if it had been infeasible to repudiate the old system altogether, this introduction of a new criteria for social ascension was to curb its influence to a certain degree:
These “fortunate commoners,” who had emerged due to the newly available social fluidity under the rule of Henry VII and whose names and titles were later listed by Henry and are quoted below, redefined the qualifications of nobility in the Tudor regime:
As an administrative clergyman, Medwall’s patron John Morton himself was also a “fortunate commoner” who advanced to the supreme position paying loyalty to the House of Lancaster and playing a key role in reconciling the House with its rival York by Henry Tudor’s marriage to Elizabeth of York. Created a cardinal in 1493 and in service till his death in 1500, he was “preeminent among councilors and Henry VII’s most trusted advisor” (Norland 233). Morton’s allegiance pledged to his royal Highness was again reenacted by Medwall to his cleric patron. A trusted chaplain to Morton, Medwall was deeply involved in Morton’s archiepiscopal affairs. This is demonstrated by an extant document related to a lawsuit filed against Medwall by Thomas Goldstone, Prior of Christchurch Canterbury. In the suit, the latter claimed the right of control over archiepiscopal officials and documents stayed with him during the vacancy of the See since Morton’s death (Nelson 13). The lawsuit indicates Medwall had control over virtually every document unde Morton’s charge, and it is not a surprise, considering the biographical facts about his trainings as a student in civil law (as well as in art) and subsequently as a notary public.5
Throughout
Writers contemporary with Medwall resolved the nagging issue of financial isecurity by seeking patronage from the crown and other prestigious high class nobility, as explored in depth by Alistair Fox.6 The two Henrys of Tudor were the most preferred options for the authors aspiring to climb the social ladder of successful literary career. In addition to them, high-profiled churchmen’s patronage was much coveted as well. The panegyrical tributes to the patron displayed in
Medwall’s apparently unfavorable picturing of Cornelius, the idle patrician of “gentle blood” who was inherited with “great goods...that he wot never what to do withal, / But lashes it forth daily, escance / That he had no daily remembrance / of time to come, nor maketh no store” (I. 699-703) but now is accused of having led “so voluptuous and so bestial” (II. 631) a life by his rival that “it is marvel / The country suffereth him there to dwell” (II. 655-56), could have easily displeased and offended the aristocratic audience who were witnessing the performance in its sheer contrast to the idealistic presentation of the rival commoner Flaminius. The idea that “a churl’s son / Should be more noble than a gentleman born” (I. 130-31) by no means appears a message befitting such an audience group. Medwall cunningly has this feeling voiced in advance by ‘A’ in Part I, and thus forestalls the unfavorable reaction that could be stirred in the audience: after hearing the storyline of the play soon to be performed, ‘A’ speaks to ‘B’ that he “will advise them to change that conclusion”(I. 129) because he simply can not believe that a common man turns out more noble than a man of noble blood. He even swears that he will have no relation with the play:
Setting the play in Rome, a remote place and time (I. 178-82), works as a convenient maneuver to relieve the offensiveness of the subversive reordering of social hierarchy suggested in the play. Presented as a comic parody of the upper class wooing of the main plot, the subplot of ‘A’ an ‘B’ seeking the favor of Joan, the handmaid of Lucres, serves a similar purpose by showing such various entertainments as singing, wrestling, and jousting, and thus drawing good humor and charity out of the audience. This comic subplot rather turns the two serious suitors to Lucres into a joke putting a greater emphasis on the control and power of the woman wooed, which in turn reflects the common practice of courtly love dating back to the twelfth century or earlier where it was usually th beloved— the woman— who was having the upper hand. Richard Axton associates the comic sub-plot with the English folk-play tradition,7 and asserts that the by-play and trifles between ‘A’ and ‘B’ help lessen the undesirable impact of Lucres’ final selection of a common suitor (9). In fact, as Howard B. Norland notes, the “ubiquitous and entertaining guides, A and B” (242) are not subsidiary but central characters, for their subplot “dominates more than 70 percent” (237) of the whole script. These seemingly lighthearted comedians are not actually minor characters.
Compared with its original source, Bonaccorso of Pistoja the Younger’s
One answer can be found in Medwall’s link with a group of playwrights, who cultivated new learning and interest in social reform and whom F. S. Boas called “a native English dramatic school” (2) of the early Tudor era. An informal group, with Thomas More at the center, it consisted of writers related to one another by family ties and friendship. Included among them were secular playwrights known today: the printer and writer John Rastell was More’s brother-in-law; More, when he was of a younger age, served Morton as a page along with Medwall; John Heywood, known today as the author of
3For a more detailed account, check Anglo, Spectacle 52-56. 4See Anglo, “Court Festivals” 27-44 as regards the expense for court entertainments between December, 1491 and April, 1509. 5See Nelson, 163-69 for a rather sketchy account of Medwall’s life. 6See Fox, Politics and Literature in the Reigns of Henry VII and Henry VIII concerning the early Tudor practice of literary patronage. 7Check also Baskervill, 424-25; and Norland, 58 regarding this topic. Peter Happé on the other hand relates the comic subplot of wooing to the deeds of the Lords of Misrule (18). 8This 1428 version was translated into English by John Tiptoft, Earl of Worcester, and later printed by William Caxton in 1481.
III. Inside the Venue―Technical Issues
Following the previous discussion of political and social contexts of
One evidence indicating the existence of Interlude as an independent genre is a lawsuit raised by John Rastell in 1530 about his costume rental business. It was Rastell, Sir More’s brother-in-law, who first printed
The lawsuit in question mentioned earlier is regarding some stage costumes lent to a carpenter named Walton but never returned to the Rastells. According to a semi-professional Interluder named George Mayler, Walton had lent out the costumes “about 20 times to stage-plays in the summer and interludes in the winter, and used to take at a stageplay for them and others, sometimes 2s, as they could agree, and at an interlude 8d, for every time” (Davis 10). The significance of this testimony is that it is the clear evidence that two distinct types of seasonal plays existed: ‘stage-plays’ of summer and ‘Interludes’ of winter. The reference to wintry occurrences of Interlude implies that it was played indoors because of the cold temperature outside and, naturally, on a reduced scale in comparison with the ‘stage-plays’ in summer which were granted more liberal use of space. The indoor staging of Interlude also accounts for the fireplace alluded to in
The extant record of the earliest ‘Interluders’ playing at court are “les Reconstructing the Scenes behind the Scenes of Henry Medwall’s
Another important aspect of Interlude is its daily schedule. The original title-page of
At the end of “Pars Prima (First Part),” he requests another meal while proposing the play restart after, or upon the continuation10 of, the second dinner:
Here one can picture a crowd of distracted audience whose hands and mouths are engaged in nibbling food and gurgling beverages served on tables. Also imaginable are the busy traffic of servants catering for the banquet, their shouts trying to make their way from the kitchen through the press to the hall, the clinking noise of the tableware, the laughs and buzz of the crowd. Technical difficulty starting the performance is expected had the performers only counted on the usual convention of actors’ abrupt entrance to the stage. What could the actors have done to turn the attention of the distracted audience to the center of the stage, where ‘A’ would pop up sooner or later? Tydeman offers two possible scenarios about how the actors might have heralded the beginning of the performance: first, the entrance of torchbearers and second, the formal announcement of the ‘marshal’ who superintends the whole procedures of the feast (140). These are compelling scenarios since torchbearers were necessary presence to lighten up the stage in addition to the usual torches installed on the walls to illuminate the gloom between late afternoon and evening, the time of the day when Interludes were scheduled to be performed; the entrance of a marshal is apparently indicated in the conversation between ‘A’ and ‘B’ in which they insist on having nothing to do with the potentially controversial subject of the play soon to be performed:
Another scenario I would add to Tydeman’s is the use of musical instruments. Glynne Wickham’s footnote (to I. 188-189) that the sound of drums and trumpets may have accompanied the first entrance of
As for the players of musical instruments in the assistance to the dance, a pipe player seems missing on account of his “sore” lip. Otherwise, this may be a mere pretext for defaulting in the part. More pipe players are on standby, though, for ‘B’ says: “Marry! As for one of them, his lip is sore!/ I trow he may not pipe, he is so sick! /
Stevens states that pipe-and-tabor was one of the favorite instruments for English indoor band along with lute (or harp) and rebec, as stipulated in the Northumberland Household Book: “Item, Mynstralls in household iii, viz. a taberett, a luyte and a rebec” (qtd. in Stevens 246). Medwall certainly could design a play based on the availability of musical resource in noble households. A tricky job, however, is to judge whether the actors and the minstrels in the play belonged to Morton’s household or to some outside troupe. If they had been Morton’s, the interactions and communications among actors and minstrels may have been much more facilitated than otherwise. However, if an outside troupe had been in charge of the performance, they should have had to share profits with dancers and minstrels hired on either a temporary or a regular basis. Craik asserts that the demands for instrumental music and dance in
Another interesting aspect of the performers is the possibility of their double-casting as many of the earliest Tudor Interludes drew on the custom: for example, the 1586 version of Ulpian Fulwel’s
With respect to the setting of
Concerning the entry of the characters, a single entrance way walled in by screens seems to have been in use, for ‘B’ “marvels” at Joan not having come across ‘A’ on her way in the First Part: “And I marvel greatly that ye / Met him not by the way: / For he is gone to speak with Lucres / From his Master” (I. 874-77). ‘B’ reasons that the two characters should have run into each other
Some crowd had to watch the play standing, as clearly indicated in the beginning of the play (“For Goddis will / What mean ye, sirs, to stand so still?” [I. 1-2]), probably around the screens due to the limited number of tables. This insufficiency in seating might have been worsened by the unexpected visit of uninvited guests as well as the servants’ trying to peek in the scenes performed. No wonder there had to be requests for room for the actors to pass through:
As shown, Interlude writers must have considered the press of spectators gathered around the screens and the entrance. With the crowd concentrated around the screens at the lower part of the hall, the performance might have been staged “in the round” with the audience on four sides: “The Interluders then must be thought of as having an oblong, central-floor space at their disposal, and as being fully prepared to use every inch of it—in complete contradistinction to the modern conception of a ‘frontal’ performance, isolated at the far end of a hall or theatre” (Southern 53). Some interactions between the actors and the audience were inevitable, naturally. For instance, when questioned by Flaminius who would attend his disputation with Cornelius, ‘A’ replies, “this honourable audience,” addressing directly to them:
The intimate rapport formed between the performers and the spectators may have created a unique dramatic atmosphere. As Tydeman describes, the performers “utilize the servants’ quarters off the entry-passage as a green-room, make their entrances from the ‘entry’ into the hall through one of the two gaps in the screen, and immediately find themselves in close contact with spectators on at least two of the three sides of them, commanding as they did the centre of the floor” (138).
Given the crowded and noisy circumstance of the hall, making a perfect entrance on stage must have been a difficult job for the actors. Heralding entrance by speech was often employed to prepare both the actors and the audience. With no other technical device, drawing on verbal announcement was a convenient option. This verbal dependence again applies to the beginning of the play when ‘B’ relates the anticipated storyline of the First Part. Offering ahead the summary of the play might have been a simple easy way to overcome the technical difficulty of indoor performance while generating something analogous to theatrical illusion.
9It was not an unalterably set rule that morality plays were performed for popular audience while Interludes for the noble, although the tendency is undeniable. Medwall’s Nature, which Bevington calls a “courtly morality” (Medieval 795), is a good case in point which invalidates such a generalization. It was played for the noble audience gathered at Lambeth, but its overall frame— allegorical figures and a man in struggle for redemption— faithfully follows the pattern of Mankind and other moralities. One should not forget that morality plays were sometimes written for the noble audience by well-known literary celebrities like Medwall, John Skelton, and John Bale. 10In First Part, ‘A’ reports that Lucres “had appointed” Cornelius “to be here” on stage “Soon in the evening, about supper” (I. 1358-59) for his disputation with Flaminius which is scheduled in Second Part. 11Michel Toulouze, L’art et Instruction de Bien Dancer. 12See Nelson’s note to line 389 in his 1980 edition (189). 13For a more detailed account of the development of British Great Halls, check Richard Southern, especially his chapter “The Tudor Great Hall.”
Literary criticism in general tends to concentrate on the literary implications intrinsic to a given text whereas drama criticism calls for the equal assessment of the factors outside a written script related to its performance. The meaning of a play is ‘temporarily’ finalized through a particular rendition on stage. A performance in another setting or under a different theatrical circumstance could bring a changed nuance and meaning to a written text. This is the commonly shared idea of the uniqueness of drama, reconditioned and completed by the act of performance. A popular courtly entertainment and one of the antiquated dramatic subgenres out of use at present, Tudor Interlude demands much of this beyond-the-script approach unique to drama criticism because of its sheer historical distance from today, not to mention its special setting. Moreover, Medwall’s ‘secular’ take on the genre of Interlude further demands such an approach due to its social function as a diplomatic courtly entertainment. Aside from the literary analysis of