and gear for Pilate's wife; of a staff for the Demon, and a beard for Judas. There are payments, too, to a man for hanging Judas and for cock-crowing. The subject of the Cappers' pageant was the Resurrection. They have charges for making the play-book and pricking the songs; for money spent at the first rehearsal and the second rehearsal; for supper on the play-day, for breakfasts and for dinners. The subject of the Drapers' pageant was that of Doomsday; and one of their articles of machinery sufficiently explains the character of their performance "A link to set the world on fire," following "Paid for the barrel for the earthquake." We may readily believe that the time was fast approaching when such pageants would no longer be tolerated. It is more than probable that the performances of the Guilds were originally subordinate to those of the Grey Friars; perhaps devised and supported by the parochial clergy.* But when the Church became opposed to such representations—when, indeed, they were incompatible with the spirit of the age-it is clear that the efforts of the laity to uphold them could not long be successful. They would be certainly performed without the reverence which once belonged to them. Their rude action and simple language would be ridiculed; and when the feeling of ridicule crept in, their nature would be altered, and they would become essentially profane. There is a very curious circumstance connected with the Coventry pageants which shows the struggle that was made to keep the dramatic spirit of the people in this direction. In 1584 the Smiths performed, after many preparations and rehearsals, a new pageant, the Destruction of Jerusalem. The Smiths applied to one who had been educated in their own town, in the Free School of Coventry, and who in 1584 belonged to St. John's, Oxford, to write this new play for them. The following entry appears in the city accounts:—

"Paid to Mr Smythe of Oxford the xyth daye of aprill 1584 for hys paynes for writing of the tragedye-xiij', vja, viijd.

We regret that this play, so liberally paid for when compared with subsequent payments to the Jonsons and Dekkers of the true drama, has not been preserved. It would be curious to contrast it with the beautiful dramatic poem on the same subject, by an accomplished scholar of our own day, also a member of the University of Oxford. But the list of characters remains, which shows that the play was essentially historical, exhibiting the contests of the Jewish factions as described by Josephus. The accounts manifest that the play was got up with great magnificence in 1584; but it was not played again till 1591, when it was once more performed along with the famous Hock Tuesday. It was then ordered that no other plays whatever should be performed; and the same order, which makes this concession "at the request of the Commons," directs" that all the May-poles that now are standing in this city shall be taken down before Whitsunday next, and none hereafter to be set up." In that year Coventry saw the last of its pageants. But Marlowe and Shakspere were in London, building up something more adapted to that age; more universal: dramas that

It is clear, we think, that the pageants performed by the Guilds were altogether different from the Ludus Coventriæ,' which Dugdale expressly tells us were performed by the Grey Friars.

no change of manners or of policies can destroy. The Pageants of Coventry have perished, as her strong gates and walls have perished. They belonged essentially to other times. They are no longer needed. A few fragments remain to tell us what they were; and upon these the learned, as they are called, will doubt and differ, and the general world heed them not.

And now the men of Coventry lead the way of the strangers to another spot, with the cry of "The Hock-play, the Hock-play!" There was yawning and illrepressed laughing during the pageant, but the whole population now seems animated with a spirit of joyfulness. As one of the worthy aldermen gallantly presses his horse through the crowd, is there not a cry, too, of "A Nycklyn, a Nycklyn!" for did not the worthy mayor, Thomas Nycklyn, three years ago, cause "Hock Tuesday, whereby is mentioned an overthrow of the Danes by the inhabitants of this city, to be again set up and showed forth, to his great commendation and the city's great commodity?" In the wide area of the Crosscheaping is the crowd now assembled. The strangers gaze upon "that stately Cross, being one of the chief things wherein this city most glories, which for workmanship and beauty is inferior to none in England."+ It was not then venerable for antiquity, for it had been completed little more than thirty years; but it was a wondrous work of a gorgeous architecture, story rising above story, with canopies and statues, to a magnificent height, glittering with vanes upon its pinnacles, and now decorated with numerous streamers. Around the square are houses of most picturesque form; the balconies of their principal floors filled with gazers, and the windows immediately beneath the high-pitched roofs showing as many heads as could be thrust through the open casements. The area is cleared, for the play requires no scaffold. The English and the Danes marshal on opposite sides. There are fierce words and imprecations, shouts of defiance, whisperings of counsel. What is imperfectly heard or ill understood by the strangers is explained by those who are familiar with the show. There is no ridicule now; no laughing at Captain Cox, in his velvet cap, and flourishing his tonsword; all is gravity and exultation. Then come the women of Coventry, ardent in the cause of liberty, courageous, much enduring; and some one tells, in the pauses of the play, how there once rode into that square, in a death-like solitude and silence, a lady all naked, who, "bearing an extraordinary affection for this place, often and earnestly besought her husband that he would free it from that grievous servitude whereunto it was subject ;"§ and he telling her in mockery that if she would so do her prayer should be granted, and permitting her so to do, she won that boon, and the city was free. Noble-hearted * Extract from manuscript Annals of Coventry in Sharp's Dissertation,' p. 129. † Dugdale.

The Cross has perished, not through age, but by the hands of Common-councilmen and Commissioners of Pavement. The Turks broke up the Elgin marbles to make mortar for their Athenian hovels, and we call them barbarians. These things go on amongst us even now. In an old Chapel of Ease in the neighbourhood of Stratford was, a few years ago, one of the very fine recumbent figures of a Templar. The figure was missed by a clergyman who sometimes visited the place, and he asked the sexton what had become of it? The answer was, "What! that crosslegged chap? Oh! I mended the road wi' he; a saved a deal o' limestone." § Dugdale.

women such as the Lady Godiva were those of Coventry who assisted their husbands to drive out the Danes; and there they lead their captives in triumph; and the Hock-play terminates with song and chorus.

But the solemnities of the day are not yet concluded. In the space around Swine Cross, and near St. John's School, is another scaffold erected; not a lofty scaffold like that of the drapers and shearmen, but gay with painted cloths and ribbons. The pageant of The Nine Worthies' is to be performed by the dramatic body of the Grammar School; the ancient pageant, such as was presented to Henry VI. and his Queen in 1455, and of which the Leet-book contains the faithful copy.* Assuredly there was one who witnessed that performance carefully employed in noting down the lofty speeches which the three Hebrews, Joshua, David, and Judas Maccabeus; the three Infidels, Hector, Alexander, and Julius Cæsar; and the three Christians, Arthur, Charlemagne, and Godfrey of Boulogne, uttered on that occasion. In the Coventry pageant Hector thus speaks:

"Most pleasant princes, recorded that may be,
1, Hector of Troy, that am chief conqueror,
Lowly will obey you, and kneel on my knee."

And Alexander thus:

"I, Alexander, that for chivalry beareth the ball,

Most courageous in conquest through the world am I named,—
Welcome you, princes."

And Julius Cæsar thus :

"I, Julius Cæsar, sovereign of knighthood

And emperor of mortal men, most high and mighty,

Welcome you, princes most benign and good."

Surely it was little less than plagiary, if it was not meant for downright parody, when, in a pageant of The Nine Worthies' presented a few years after, Hector comes in to say—

"The armipotent Mars, of lances the almighty,

And Alexander :—

Gave Hector a gift, the heir of Ilion:

A man so breath'd, that certain he would fight, yea,
From morn till night, out of his pavilion.

I am that flower."

"When in the world I liv'd, I was the world's commander;

By east, west, north, and south, I spread my conquering might:
My 'scutcheon plain declares that I am Alisander."

And Pompey, usurping the just honours of his triumphant rival :

“I Pompey am, Pompey surnamed the great,

That oft in field, with targe and shield, did make my foe to sweat."

But the laugh of the parody was a harmless one. The Nine Worthies were utterly dead and gone in the popular estimation. Certainly in the crowd before St. John's School at Coventry there would be more than one who would laugh at the speeches-merry souls, ready to "play on the tabor to the Worthies, and let them dance the hay."*

Love's Labour's Lost, Act v. It is scarcely necessary to refer the reader to the same play for the speeches of Hector, Alexander, and Pompey. The coincidence between these and the old Coventry Pageant is remarkable.

NOTE ON THE COVENTRY PAGEANTS.

THE "Chester Mysteries," which appear greatly to have resembled those of Coventry, were finally suppressed in 1574. Archdeacon Rogers, who in his MSS. rejoices that "such a cloud of ignorance" would be no more seen, appears to have been an eye-witness of their performance, of which he has left the following description :-(See Markland's 'Introduction to a Specimen of the Chester Mysteries.")

"Now of the playes of Chester, called the Whitson playes, when the weare played, and what occupations bringe forthe at theire charges the playes or pagiantes.

"Heare note that these playes of Chester, called the Whitson playes, weare the worke of one Rondell, a Moncke of the Abbaye of Sainte Warburghe in Chester, who redused the whole historye of the bible into englishe storyes in metter in the englishe tounge; and this Monke, in a good desire to doe good, published the same. Then the firste maior of Chester, namely, St John Arnewaye, Knighte, he caused the same to be played: the maner of which playes was thus :-they weare divided into 24 pagiantes according to the coōpanyes of the Cittie; and every companye broughte forthe theire pagiant, wch was the cariage or place wh the played in; and before these playes weare played, there was a man wch did ride, as I take it, upon St Georges daye through the Cittie, and there published the tyme and the matter of the playes in breeife: the weare played upon Mondaye, Tuesday, and Wensedaye in Whitson weeke. And thei first beganne at the Abbaye gates; and when the firste pagiante was played at the Abbaye gates, then it was wheled from thense to the Pentice, at the hyghe Crosse, before the maior, and before that was donne the seconde came; and the firste went into the Watergate Streete, and from thense unto Bridge Streete, and so one after an other 'till all the pagiantes weare played appoynted for the firste daye, and so likewise for the seconde and the thirde daye. These pagiantes or carige was a hyghe place made like a howse with 2 rowmes, beinge open on the tope; the lower rowme theie apparrelled and dressed themselves, and the higher rowme theie played, and thei stoode upon vi wheeles; and when the had donne with one cariage in one place theie wheled the same from one streete to another, first from the Abbaye gate to the pentise, then to the Watergate streete, then to the bridge streete through the lanes, and so to the este gate streete: and thus tha came from one streete to another, kepinge a directe order in everye streete, for before thei firste carige was gone from one place the seconde came, and so before the seconde was gone the thirde came, and so till the laste was donne all in order withoute anye stayeinge in anye place, for worde beinge broughte howe every place was neere doone, the came and made no place to tarye tell the laste was played.”