"Veniance, Lord, apon thaym fall": maternal mourning, divine justice, and tragedy in the Corpus Christi plays

Medieval and Renaissance Drama in England, Annual, 2006 by Katharine Goodland

Referring to the declaration of the curse as a "hydowse [thorn]ynge" (60), Mirk treats the ritual as a necessary evil, one that must be performed "reddely" (60) and without "wonde" (60) on the part of the clergy. (20) In the preliminary address, he explains to the parishioners that the priest's tongue is "goddus swerde" (61). Just as a "swerde de-partuth [thorn]e heued from [thorn]e body" (61), so the priest's curse severs a man's soul from the body of the church: "fro [ihesu cryste] and fro oure lady, & ffro alle [thorn]e cumpany of heuen" (61). The souls of those who are excommunicate, he explains, are in the hands of the "fende off helle" (61) and "hys mynestrees" (61) and will suffer the "peyne of helle, al so longe os god is in heuen" (61) unless they amend their ways.

Performed within the context of religious ritual, the curse of excommunication draws much of its moral force from the weight of the community and from the authority of the priest within that community. Those who were excommunicated were prohibited from participating in the rites and offices of the church. But, just as these rituals were directed toward the health of the soul, so the curse of excommunication also directly affected the fate of the soul after death. The efficacy of this punishment thus stems from the belief that words can bind and transform human existence: uttering the curse cuts excommunicates off from God's grace. The curse embodies the logic of ethical reciprocity: those who injure God are punished by suffering injury themselves, if not during their lives, most certainly after death. This belief was not restricted to the performance of ritual, however. Routine swearing, according to Mirk's homily for Passion Sunday, also encompasses the binding power of language and the logic of reciprocity embodied in speech-acts.

In the concluding "narracio" of the Passion sermon, Mirk addresses the problem of common cursing on the part of the laity. Drawing upon a tale from the Gesta Romanorum, Mirk tells the "good men and woymen" (110) of his parish the story of how a powerful judge, personally appointed by an emperor, met his comeuppance. The judge's evil habit of swearing had spread to the entire community over which he had jurisdiction:

  ... befor his comyng, [thorn]er was no man [thorn]at cowthe swere non
  o[thorn]yr oth but [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII]ey and nay. Then
  aftyr [thorn]at [thorn]ys justice come, he made all men to swere on
  bokes, yn schyres and hundurdes. And he and all his men wer soo ywont
  forto swere by Godys passion, and armes, and sydys, and blody wondys,
  [thorn]at all [thorn]e pepull toke at hom soo yn vse, [thorn]at all
  [thorn]e pepull swere as horrybull as [thorn]ay dyd." (113-14) (21)

One day as the justice is sitting in his court in the "sight of all men," a beautiful woman, the "fayryst woman [thorn]at euer [thorn]ay seghen, clothyd all yn grene," approaches the bench. In her lap, she holds a "fayre child" that is "blody and all tomarturd." Presenting her mangled babe to the judge, she asks, "Sir, what byn [thorn]ay wor[thorn]y [thorn]at han [thorn]us ferd wyth my child?" The judge replies, "[THORN]ay byn worthi to haue [thorn]e deth." To this, the mother rejoins, "[THORN]ou and [thorn]y men wyth your horrybull o[thorn]es han dismembryd my sonne Ihesus Cryst, [thorn]at I am modyr to, and soo [TEXT NOT REPRODUCIBLE IN ASCII]e haue taght all [thorn]ys lond. Wherfor [thorn]ou schalt haue thyn owne dome." At the Virgin's words, "yn sight of all the pepull, the erth opened and [thorn]e justyce fell don ynto hell."