SOURCE: “The Pardoner and the Friar as Reformation Polemic,” in Renaissance Papers 1971, edited by Dennis G. Donovan and A. Leigh Deneef, The Southeastern Renaissance Conference, 1972, pp. 17-24.

[In the following essay, Bryant analyzes The Pardoner and the Friar, which, he argues, is not really a bitter attack on the Roman Catholic Church but rather a general satire of religious corruption.]

While Henry VIII may have smiled at first upon dramatic pieces written in support of the papacy, his apparent tolerance changed drastically after Pope Clement VII excommunicated him in 1533. Thereafter the stage became a powerful weapon for propagandists in the ecclesiastical controversy between Reformers and Roman Catholics—a weapon which had the sanction of the Crown.

But in all fairness one should remember that many of the abuses and excesses of Roman Catholicism which came to be satirized on the stage in support of the Reformation were equally objectionable to some Roman Catholics and had been satirized by them for a number of years before Henry's breach with Rome. His reformation of the Church in England provided a rationale in justification of the schism; and dramatists supporting the Reformation often sharpened the focus of attention upon problems which many devout Roman Catholics were very much aware of already: clerical corruption, simony, inordinate use of indulgences, and exploitation of shrines and relics for economic gain, to name only a few. Thus in plays written before the Reformation one readily discovers that satire against the clergy is sharp and rather common, but it is only a side issue. That is, church corruption and not the Roman Catholic Church as an institution is the object of satire.

John Heywood stands above other writers of interludes during the early sixteenth century because of his artistic skill and sensitivity to contemporary issues. His plays provide some of our best satire of Roman Catholic clerics. Yet, regardless of how hard the Reformers tried to make his satire seem otherwise, the object of Heywood's satire is the entertaining exposé of clerical rogues, and this in the tradition of Boccaccio and Chaucer. Indeed, while some of the most amusing scenes at the expense of ecclesiastics and Church abuse come from Heywood's pen, it must never be assumed for an instant that he was sympathetic with the Reformation. He remained a Roman Catholic, who, like Erasmus and More, believed that the problems and abuses of the Church should be resolved from within, not by schism.

But William Rastell published Heywood's plays during the heat of the ecclesiastical controversy between Henry and the pope. Heywood's skillful satires of Roman Catholic clerics and questionable Church practices were then put to use by Reformers as a polemic in support of the “new religion”—something which the dramatist obviously never intended. Sir Thomas More had resigned the Chancellorship in 1532; and during the next year Cranmer resolved Henry's marriage with Catharine. It was during this time that Heywood's interludes were published.

The Pardoner and the Friar is not anthologized as often as some of the other pieces in the Heywood canon, but it contains clever satire of two ecclesiastical character types which both Reformers and devout Roman Catholics alike found objectionable. This humorous play (probably written sometime before 1521 but not published until April 5, 1533) takes place in a curate's church. Before the parson arrives, however, a friar addresses the congregation concerning the mission of friars in general and himself in particular.

In his exordium—itself a masterpiece of irony—the friar announces his reason for coming before the congregation. He does not come, so he says, for money, but “for your soul's heal.” And in a series of reasons stating why he has not come, he presents a catalogue of stereotyped motives generally associated with the whole class of friars in comic literature. He then makes the point that friars must search the consciences of men, although in doing so they do not care for money because they live in “wilful poverty.” In fact, friars are as free from thoughts of money and personal necessities as birds in the air. And Christ has taught friars to go to every house in preaching His doctrine, first imparting peace unto the people. But if any do not welcome the preachers, the preachers are to leave. Exhorting his listeners to remember this text, he concludes his exordium in good rhetorical fashion with an effort to gain the good will of the audience—but here by flattery.

While the friar kneels to pray, a pardoner enters the church, bringing with him an assortment of holy relics. And ignoring the praying friar, he begins his own oration before the congregation. After a brief exordium, in which he refers to the listeners as “good devout people,” he prays to Christ that the people may be preserved from all sin and receive the pardon which he bears with him from the pope. He then announces that he comes from Rome bearing with him papal bulls and a patent from the king,

That no man be so bold, be he priest or clerk,
Me to disturb of Christ's holy work;
Nor have no disdain nor yet scorn
Of these holy relics which saints have worn.

And reminiscent of Chaucer's pardoner, he shows his relics to the people and tells them of the marvellous powers of each: “a holy Jew's hip” (sheep?) bone, which when dipped in water will cure animals if their “bellies do swell,” or if they are bitten by a snake. It can cause a man's animals to multiply, and a jealous man to trust his wife, even though he knows her to be guilty, “or had she been taken with friars two or three.”

After showing the congregation a mitten, which can cause the man who puts his hand into it to produce more grain, he then exhibits “the blessed arm of sweet Saint Sunday,” which if given proper devotion will allow its owner never to lose his way by sea or land and always to receive a high promotion. Another relic is “the great toe of the Holy Trinity,” which promises miraculous cures. A remarkable relic is the “bongrace” worn by the Virgin Mary “with her French hood” whenever she went out “for sun-burning.” Moreover, all the pregnant women who are in mourning can be eased in their travail with this bongrace, provided they kiss it devoutly. The blessed jaw bone of All-Hallows prevails against poison for anyone who touches it. Therefore, he says, “come crouch and creep” to these relics, and bring an offering with you: for without an offering you cannot profit from them. He then shows his papal bull.

The exhibition of such relics is quite effective as low comedy. And while Reformers passed legislation to halt the veneration of relics on the pretext that they tended toward superstition and idolatry, such exploitation of relics had been censured by some devout Roman Catholics imbued with the New Learning for a number of years. Chaucer's satire upon this particular practice of the Church indicates that the sale of fabricated relics may not have been uncommon in the fourteenth century. And Erasmus' visit to the shrine of Our Lady of Walsingham in 1512 led him to ridicule the veneration of incredible relics in his Coloquies (1526). But for the horde of pilgrims, relics continued to hold marvelous powers, especially among rustics, villagers, and lower classes. Archbishop Albrecht of Mayence (d. 1545) is reported to have exhibited 8,933 relics on one occasion, among which were these: earth from the field near Damascus out of which God created Adam, manna from the desert fed to the Israelites, twenty-five pieces of the burning bush of Moses, forty-three fragments of the body of St. Peter, a fragment of St. Paul's skull, a finger of Doubting Thomas, a piece of Isaac's body, and a thumb of Jesus' grandmother. The cumulative power of the Archbishop's relics ensured 39,245,120 years and 220 days of pardon. Yet, Heywood's use of such relics is not controversial or didactic; it is for him, as it is for us, a source of humor. It is the same device which he uses in The Four P's.

Meanwhile, the friar finishes his prayers and begins to preach a sermon upon the text, “Date et dabitur vobis.” Simultaneously, the pardoner continues his discursus upon relics and papal bulls. Although the single-line phrases uttered by each speaker alternately produce a comical farce in themselves, what is of importance in this section is the dramatist's use of papal indulgences, another objectionable practice of the Church. The pardoner tells his audience, now dividing their attention between the two ecclesiastics, that Pope Leo X has granted papal indulgences “To all manner people both quick and dead” a total of “Ten thousand years and as many Lents of pardon— / When they are dead their souls for to guardon,” if they will but purchase them with alms for the restoration of the recently burned “holy chapel of sweet Saint Leonard.” Moreover, Pope Julius VI has granted twelve thousand years of pardon to any who will lend money for the chapel's restoration; and Pope Boniface IX, Pope Julius, Pope Innocent, and many other popes have granted five thousand years of pardon to anyone as often as he fills the pardoner's coffer. Without confession or contrition those who obtain this indulgence are promised “clean remission” and are forgiven of the seven deadly sins.

“This is the pardon,” continues the pardoner as though hawking wares at the market, “that purchaseth all grace … for all manner of trespass.” Growing more zealous, the pardoner tells his congregation that pardoners are necessary for their salvation, for pardons alone bring men to heaven. And since these pardons can free one from the consequences of the most abominable sins imaginable, “Ye cannot, therefore, bestow your money better.”

The scene is highly amusing for the same reason that Chaucer's use of the pardoner is amusing; both pardoners reveal their own rascality. But Heywood must have known that the pardoner's understanding of papal indulgences was mistaken. Johan Tetzel's treks through Germany selling papal indulgences in order to build St. Peter's in Rome precipitated Luther's attack on the Church; but the misuse of papal indulgences was not corrected until the Council of Trent, although Reformers condemned the theory of indulgences at the outset. What Heywood does with this practice of the Church, then, is apparently to make it a humorous source for entertainment. It does not appear that the dramatist is condemning papal indulgences as much as he is pointing out the ignorance and corruption of the very man empowered to grant them. That is, the humor lies in the irony of a pardoner totally ignorant of the theological doctrines permitting indulgences. That such a man should be empowered to dispense pardons about which he has no real understanding is humorous. But that, combined with the pardoner's avarice, makes the whole situation ludicrous indeed.

While Pardoner is hawking his pardons, Friar preaches a sermon on covetousness. Having read his text from the Vulgate, the friar tells his congregation that since they have no Bible of their own, he will translate the text into English:

As depart your goods the poor folk among—
And God shall then give unto you again.

His gloss or dilitation on the text is:

Therefore give your alms in the largest wise—
Keep not your goods: fye, fye, on covetise!

The friar then enters the digressio of his sermon and cites an exemplum concerning “dives Epulus” and poor Lazarus dead from the famine. Returning to the dilitation, the friar provides another incredible gloss upon the text. Who, he asks, are the poor among you who should receive your rewards according to the text? He answers his rhetorical question by declaring positively, “Certes, we poor friars are the same”; for not only are friars poor and hard-working, but

We friars also go on limitation
For to preach to every Christian nation.

Moving into his peroratio, the friar tells his audience not to give to every man that asks for money, but to give rather to the needy friars. Again by a skillful use of paradox the friar preaches a sermon on covetousness and at the same time reveals himself ironically to be an absolute rascal, as ignorant of true charity as the pardoner is of true absolution. The humor, aside from the farcical element, resides in the obvious discrepancy between the friar and the spiritual ideal of poverty to which friars were committed.

The conflict in this plotless interlude arises between the two ecclesiastics as each endeavors to silence the other. At first they simply interrupt their preaching to ask who is that “babbler”; but as each becomes more zealous in trying to persuade the audience to give him money, they finally stop in the middle of their delivery for a personal exchange of abuses. And in the first exchange Heywood satirizes, though mildly, other objectionable practices of the Church. Friar rebukes Pardoner for interrupting his preaching, and he reminds his opponent that whoever hinders the Word of God,

Standeth accursed in the great sentence;
And so art thou for interrupting me.

Pardoner responds to this with a reminder that the pope has ordered excommunication for all who interrupt the pardoner's work:

And all such that to me make interruption,
The Pope sends them excommunication
By his bulls here ready to be read,
By bishops and his cardinals confirmed;
And eke if thou disturb me any thing,
Thou art also a traitor to the king.

Moreover, Pardoner accuses Friar of teaching false doctrine about the way of salvation. You, he addresses the rival, teach men to gain salvation by abstaining from sin and by virtuous living; but I, knowing that they cannot do this without falling, have letters from the pope which can assure their salvation,

And lead them thither by the purse-strings,
So that they shall not fall, though that they would.

When Friar accuses him of prating like a pardoner, the angry Pardoner accuses his rival of hating the pope's minister; and addressing the assembly, he deposes the friar:

Masters, here I curse him openly,
And therewith warn all this whole company
By the Pope's great auctority,
That ye leave him, and harken unto me;
For, till he be assoiled, his words take none effect,
For out of holy church he is now clean reject.

The dénouement, such as it is, occurs after the two have cursed each other thoroughly, and made threats about what each will do to the other. For example, the pardoner says,

I shall make that bald crown of his to look red;
I shall leave him but one ear on his head!

The Church parson arrives on the scene during the physical altercation between the two ecclesiastical rogues. Parson's attempt to haul his colleagues away to the stocks is futile. And once it finally becomes obvious that their efforts in that church are ended, Friar picks up part of his opening remarks to the congregation and asks if the two may leave in peace.

Clearly, Heywood uses controversial elements of the ecclesiastical dispute, which no doubt Luther would have enjoyed; but the effect is merely humorous and not really polemical. The satire is effective, but it does no injury as such to the Church. He has created a farce, not an attack upon the papacy and not even a condemnation of friars and pardoners. The art, uneven as it may be, rises above the controversy and creates an effective comedy which is unified thematically by the concept of peace in theory and in practice. The two rascals are effective, not because of their religion, but because of their inability to perceive how far short of their pretended spiritual ideals they actually fall.

Heywood, then, uses materials of the ecclesiastical controversy as elements of his dramatic art by satirizing the clerics; but it is devoid of the bitterness and hatred toward the Roman Catholic Church to which it was turned by Reformation apologists. And if it fails as polemic, it surely succeeds as an entertaining farce.