19 Like the exawmple wiche that at Parys. Lydgate compares his English translation with its French original. This is an earlier French version of the Danse macabre, with accompanying images, that was painted in the early fifteenth century along the walls of the charnel houses that formed the boundaries of the Cemetery of the Innocents in Paris (see Introduction, pp. 4–5, 16–17). A contemporary eyewitness, Gilbert de Mets, describes the cemetery as it appeared circa 1430:

La sont engigneusement entailliés de pierre les ymages des trois vifz et trois mors. La est ung cimitiere moult grant enclos de maisons appellés charniers. La ou les os des mors sont entassés, illec sont paintures notables de la dance macabre et autres avec escriptures pour esmouvoir les gens a devotion.

In this place there is skilfully sculpted in stone the images of the three living and the three dead. There is a very large cemetery there surrounded by buildings called charnelhouses where the bones of the dead are piled up; there are notable paintings there of the Danse Macabre with writings to move people to devotion. (Guillebert de Mets, Description de la ville de Paris 1434, ed. and trans. Mullally, pp. 94–95).

Lydgate, already an established poet and translator by the 1420s, would have encountered this scene when he arrived in Paris in 1426 during the regency of John, Duke of Bedford. He therefore positions himself not only as a translator, but as an eyewitness to the most widely known instantiation of the danse macabre at that time.

35 Daunce at Seint Innocentis. Even more than the previous reference to “Parys” (line 19), this line identifies Lydgate’s source as the St. Innocents Danse.↩back to note source

49 this mirrour. The idea of a text, especially a didactic one, as ‘mirror’ or reflection is common in medieval religion; see, for example, Nicholas Love’s Mirror of the Blessed Life of Jesus Christ, the Mirror for Simple Souls, the Mirror for Holy Church, etc. The notion of a spiritual or religious mirror combines the idea of a reflection on the world as it is with a more aspirational model for good spiritual conduct and self-evaluation. See also lines 632–40 for the image of Death as a mirror to mankind.↩back to note source

59 like as Petir had the soverenité. The apostle Peter is traditionally regarded as the first Bishop of Rome, or Pope, on the basis of Christ’s words to him in Matthew 16:18: “And I say to thee: That thou art Peter; and upon this rock I will build my church, and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” Subsequent popes are said to inherit Peter’s authority over the Church (see B version, line 19).↩back to note source

75 golde your appil round. The golden apple here recalls the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil consumed by Adam and Eve in Eden, as recounted in Genesis 3 as well as the golden orb used to represent imperial power from the Roman era onward. The orb is most often depicted surmounted by a cross. When it is depicted this way, it is called the globus cruciger. Many Christian rulers are portrayed holding the orb and cross as a symbol of their imperial authority, including the figure of the Emperor in the 1485 Guyot Marchant printing of the French Danse and the Kaiser in the 1488 Heidelberger Totentanz.↩back to note source

85 A simple shete — ther is no more to seyne —. Death informs the Emperor that he will be buried in a simple shroud, or winding sheet, a dramatic contrast to the riches and treasure associated with the Emperor in life. In illustrations to the early printed editions of the French Danse macabre, the skeletons (i.e., the speakers identified as “le mort” in the text) are often draped in tattered shrouds. In addition, those viewing the Dance in the Pardon Churchyard at St. Paul’s in London, or its French analogue at the Holy Innocents in Paris, would have likely had opportunity to see the interment of bodies wrapped in such sheets and witness firsthand the leveling and anonymizing effects of this common form of burial.↩back to note source

94 Youre hatte of reed. Cardinals wear a distinctive widebrimmed red hat, known as a gallero, that indicates their high rank within the Church (the College of Cardinals is second in authority only to the Pope himself, a hierarchy that is reflected in the order in which the speakers appear in this poem). The tradition of cardinals wearing a red gallero was established by Pope Innocent IV at the First Council of Lyon in 1245.↩back to note source

112 Shal bere with hym but a sengle shete. By emphasizing that the King will be buried with a simple shroud, Death reminds the King, like the Emperor before him, that he cannot bring his earthly goods into the afterlife.↩back to note source

121 Sir Patriarke. The concept of the patriarch, a cleric assuming the highest position of leadership within ecclesiastical hierarchy, goes all the way back to the Code of Justinian, a collection of works on canon law issued between 529 and 534 CE. The Code (Novellas 123 and 131) stipulated that Christendom be divided into five patriarchates — the Sees of Rome, Constantinople, Alexandria, Antioch, and Jerusalem. These were known collectively as the Pentarchy (for the head and four limbs of the body of the Church) and arranged in respective hierarchical order. This organizational schema was officially confirmed at the Council of Trullo of 692, though this order was occasionally disputed over the centuries. Thus, although he is traditionally termed “Pope,” the head cleric of the See of Rome is one of the original patriarchs, and the other Sees retain the title “Patriarch” for their head clerics. The East-West or Great Schism of 1054 separated the See of Rome from the other four Sees, producing the Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Churches (see further “Patriarch and Patriarchate” in The Catholic Encyclopedia). As the “double crosse” at line 123 makes clear, the Patriarch mentioned here is associated with the Eastern Orthodox Church and is, most likely, from the See of Constantinople. The Byzantine Emperor Manuel II Palaiologos visited Western Europe, including a visit to the court of Charles VI in France and a trip to England in the winter of 1400–01 during which he was received by Henry IV at Eltham Palace. Although Matthew I, who was then Patriarch of Constantinople, remained behind (and was in fact temporarily deposed during Manuel’s absence), the visit would have been a chance for the English and French alike to become more familiar with Orthodox Christianity. That said, Marchant’s editions of the Danse macabre depicts the Patriarch as a Catholic bishop, without the distinctive beard and garb of an Eastern Orthodox cleric.↩back to note source

123 Youre double crosse of gold and stones clere. The double cross is a variant of the Christian cross in which a smaller crossbar is placed above the main bar to represent the plaque nailed to Christ’s cross, and, sometimes, an additional diagonal crossbar towards the bottom, symbolizing the foothold for Christ’s feet. It is typically associated, as in this case, with the Orthodox Church.↩back to note source

127 Trustith nevere that ye shal pope be. The East-West or Great Schism of 1054 saw the division of the Pentarchy (see note to line 121 above) into the Western Roman Catholic and Eastern Orthodox Churches. Subsequent attempts at healing the schism were unsuccessful but raised anew in the 1420s and 1430s as a potential unification strategy before the rise of the Ottoman Empire. These discussions culminated in the Seventeenth Ecumenical Council at Basel convoked in 1431; moved to Ferrara in 1438 and to Florence in 1445, the council achieved a preliminary consensus in unifying the two Churches on the condition that the Eastern Orthodox Churches recognize the primacy of the See of Rome. The agreement immediately faltered due to widespread public opposition on the part of Eastern Orthodox monks and clerics. Thus, for informed mid-fifteenth century audiences, Death’s phrase would be a particularly mocking dig at these failed discussions. See further Geanakoplos, Constantinople and the West, esp. pp. 224–54, and Jonathan Harris, The End of Byzantium.↩back to note source

128 foly hope deceiveth many a man. Proverbial. See Whiting H461.↩back to note source

138 my maister Sir Constable. The MED defines “constable” as the chief executive of a leader, including that of a king or other ruler. This seems to be the sense in which it is being used here, given that the Constable is the first secular figure to appear in the danse following the emperor and the king, suggesting that he ranks above other prominent laymen like the Burgess; the figure is used in the same sense in the French Danse macabre. See Oosterwijk, “Of Corpses, Constables and Kings” for the political importance of including this figure in the text, given the ongoing Anglo-French conflict.↩back to note source

139 Charlemayne. Charlemagne (742/748–814 CE), king of the Franks who consolidated power and extended Frankish rule across Europe. In 800 he was crowned emperor by Pope Leo III in Rome. He was also one of the medieval “nine worthies,” the group of three pagan (Hector, Alexander the Great, Julius Caesar), three Jewish (Joshua, David, Judas Maccabeus), and three Christian (Arthur, Charlemagne, Godfrey of Bouillon) leaders seen to embody the ideals of chivalry and moral virtue.↩back to note source

176 o man brekith that anothir made. Proverbial. See Whiting M259.↩back to note source

184 Undre hevene in erthe is nothing stable. Proverbial. See Whiting N154.↩back to note source

Before 185 Lady of Grete Astate. This is a new character, who does not appear in either the original French Danse macabre or in the B version.↩back to note source

204 goodes of nature. Goods provided by nature, such as crops; may also include livestock, the elements, minerals, and physical gifts.↩back to note source

215 He that al withhalt. Lydgate’s odd introduction of a “he” (God?) into the stanza probably has to do with the difficult syntax of his source: “Le monde aussi peu me conforte, / Qui tout a la fin desherite; / Il retient tout: nul riens n’emporte” (see French Danse macabre, lines 163–65), in which “il” refers back to “le monde,” a masculine noun. Thus, in modern English, the lines read: “I can get little comfort too from the world, / Which ultimately dispossesses everyone. / It keeps all; no one makes off with anything.” In Lydgate’s defense, the gendering of French nouns can make pronouns extremely tricky in long clauses.↩back to note source

249 Abbesse. This is a new character, who does not appear in the original French Danse macabre; she corresponds to B version’s Abbatissa (before line 193).↩back to note source

265 Sir Bailly. A bailiff, or bailly, is “an official of the English crown with delegated administrative or judicial authority; the king’s officer in a county, hundred, or town; the keeper of a royal castle, gate, or forest” (MED baillif). The name of the Host in the CT, Harry Bailly, also presumably derives from this occupation.↩back to note source

288 And al shal die for an appil round. This refers to the fruit of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, consumed by Adam and Eve in Genesis 3. A similar image appears in line 75 in the description of the Emperor.↩back to note source

296 Who lyveth aright mote nedis dye wele. Proverbial. See Whiting L408.↩back to note source

297 Sir Burgeis. The MED (burgeis) defines a burgess as “a freeman of a town, a citizen with full rights and privileges; also, an inhabitant of a town; — usually used of city merchants and master craftsmen in the guilds.” His appearance here reflects the specifically urban context of the danse macabre.↩back to note source

313 Sir Chanoun, with many grete prebende. A canon is a clergyman serving at a church or cathedral (MED canoun [n.2]), such as St. Paul’s or the church associated with the Cemetery of the Holy Innocents in Paris. A prebend is “an estate or portion of land belonging to a cathedral or collegiate church, the revenues from which are used as the stipend of a canon or member of the chapter; also, the tenure of such an estate” (MED prebende).↩back to note source

321 My benefices with many a personage. In the Middle Ages, the Church obtained major revenue through rents and other profits gained from donations or bequests, such as land willed to the church. Benefice holders within the church would receive a portion of the income derived from these assets in exchange for performing their duties. A parsonage might refer to either a dwelling for such a cleric, or the benefits of his office more broadly (MED personage [n.2]). In theory, a cleric could only hold a single benefice at one time, but the system was easily exploited. It appears Lydgate’s canon is one of many who obtained special dispensation to collect the revenues of multiple benefices.↩back to note source

325 Amys of grys. An amice is a cloth, usually white, with two ribbons going over the shoulders, that is draped over a priest’s vestments during Mass.↩back to note source

326 surplys. Lydgate appears to be punning on the term “surplice,” a clerical vestment, used in his source (compare Danse macabre, l. 259) and “surplus” in the sense of “additional income” (see MED, surplus, sense 2).↩back to note source

347 Sir Chartereux. A Chartereux is monk of the Carthusian order. Founded at La Grande Chartreuse near Grenoble in 1084, the order was noted (as Death’s response here indicates) for its asceticism. The Carthusian appears in the French text as well, and there were Carthusian houses in both London and Paris in the early fifteenth century.↩back to note source

361 Sir Sergant with youre statly mace. A sergeant is a serving man or attendant (MED sergeaunt [n.1]), but more specifically “an officer of a city, the royal household, etc. usually charged with collecting debts and arresting offenders” or an equivalent officer in a court of justice (sense 3). The mace he carries is a ceremonial club and a mark of his office.↩back to note source

374 And may not flee, though I hadde it sworn. In a poetic reversal of fortune, the Sergeant finds himself on the wrong side of the law, “arrested” by Death. Death will not release him despite his willingness to swear that he will appear as expected for future legal proceedings, which is equivalent to being released on bond in contemporary U.S. and Canadian legal systems. Given the Sergeant’s haughty attitude in the previous stanza, he seems unlikely to have extended this clemency to offenders in his jurisdiction.↩back to note source

377 Sir Monke also, with youre blak habite. Members of the Benedictine Order, one of the largest monastic orders in medieval Europe, were distinguished by their black habits and were sometimes known simply as black monks (compare this with line 580 (1:16) of the English translation of Guillaume Deguileville’s Pilgrimage of the Life of Man, attributed to Lydgate, which describes “monkys greyë, whyte, and blake”). As a monk of the Abbey of Bury St. Edmunds, John Lydgate himself was a member of this order. The Monk appears in the French Danse as well, but without reference to the color of his habit — this detail, perhaps a personal one, is added by Lydgate.↩back to note source

393 Thou Usurer. Usury, the lending of money at interest, was necessary to the growth of a capitalistic system, but was forbidden to medieval Christians; Jews, however, were not under similar religious proscriptions. Because of this, negative attitudes toward usury (such as those presented here) often coincide with expressions of antiSemitism, although Lydgate does not specify the religion of the usurer in his poem. See Le Goff, Your Money or Your Life. The non-believer, whether Jew or Muslim, is often depicted as a blind man, as in line 406.↩back to note source

417–18 on youre uryne . . . stare agein the sonne. Examination of urine, by holding it up to light, was a common diagnostic technique in medieval medicine. Some medical manuscripts contain illustrations of urine in a range of colors, with accompanying explanations of what medical conditions the hues indicate, to aid in diagnosis. In the Heidelberger Totentanz, Marchant’s Danse macabre, and Hans Holbein’s woodcuts, the physician is shown gazing at a flask of urine. Chaucer’s Physician, in the Ellesmere manuscript drawing, also examines a flask of urine.↩back to note source

424 Good leche is he that can himsilfe recure. Proverbial. See Whiting L170.↩back to note source

429 To finde oute agens pestilence. “Pestilence” often refers to the bubonic plague or Black Death, which swept across Europe in the fourteenth century. It arrived in 1348 in England, where it killed as much as half the population. The scale of its impact and rapidity with which it advanced (many victims died within a few days of falling ill) naturally led to a disruption of normal customs surrounding death, funerals, and burial. Scholars have traditionally seen the danse macabre as a response to the Black Death, but Elina Gertsman challenges this assumption; she ties the tradition instead to preoccupations with death and the afterlife arising out of generalized anxieties over spiritual life engendered by the ecclesiastical crisis of the Western Schism (1378–1416), whereby the papacy moved from its seat in Rome to Avignon (Gertsman, Dance of Death in the Middle Ages, pp. 42–44).↩back to note source

448 windes grete gon doun with litil reyn. Proverbial. See Whiting R15. The sense is that Death, like a bit of rain, can stop even the great winds of life.↩back to note source

Before 449 Gentilwomman Amerous. This is a new character, who does not appear in the original French Danse macabre; she corresponds to B version’s Generosa (before line 353).↩back to note source

451 As faire as yee was somtyme Polycene. Polyxena, in myth, was the daughter of King Priam of Troy and his queen, Hecuba. She does not appear in Homer’s Iliad but in other sources is depicted as accompanying her brother Troilus when he is ambushed and killed by the Greek warrior Achilles. Achilles was later killed by two of Polyxena’s other brothers, and, according to the Greek playwright Euripides, at the end of the Trojan War Achilles’ ghost demanded Polyxena’s sacrifice in exchange for fair winds for the returning Greek ships. For a modern edition and translation, see Euripedes, Hecuba, ed. Kovacs. This version of the story also appears in section 33 of Boccaccio’s De mulieribus claris (see Boccaccio, Famous Women, trans. Brown, pp. 132–33).↩back to note source

452 Penolope, and the quene Eleyne. Penelope was the wife of Odysseus and mother of Telemachus. In Homer’s Odyssey, she spends twenty years faithfully awaiting her spouse’s return from war, deferring the attentions of numerous suitors, until she reunites with Odysseus. She is considered a model of fidelity and prudence. Helen was the beautiful Greek woman, the wife of Menelaus, whose abduction by the Trojan prince Paris instigated the Trojan war.↩back to note source

453 Yit on this daunce thei wente bothe tweine. Although this reading is consistent across manuscripts, there is a contradiction between the three women (Polyxena, Penelope, and Helen) to whom the Gentlewoman Amorous (equivalent to the Generosa, or Rich Woman, in the B text) is compared and “both tweine,” which clearly refers to two figures.↩back to note source

465 Sir Advocate. An advocate is a professional pleader in courts of law, e.g., an attorney; compare with Chaucer’s Man of Law. Compare also the Explanatory Note to line 383 of the French Danse macabre for a discussion of the verbal play in this line, which Lydgate maintains in his English translation.↩back to note source

Before 481 Jourrour. In medieval England, jurors were required to hold property, meaning that the speaker’s identification here as a juror reflects on his socioeconomic class as well as on his legal responsibilities. This is a new character, who does not appear in the original French Danse macabre; he corresponds to B version’s Jurour (before line 417).↩back to note source

513 Maister John Rikele, sometyme Tregetour. This is the only instance in the poem in which Lydgate appears to refer to a real historical personage. It is also the only reference to this John Rikele, and his apparent role of court magician in the court of Henry V, in the historical record. As Sophie Oosterwijk notes, “it is usually assumed that the inclusion of the ‘some tyme tregetowre’ Rikelle in Lydgate’s poem means that he was already dead, but nobody of that name has so far been identified in the accounts of Henry V” (“Dance, Dialogue and Duality,” p. 37). This is a new character who does not appear in the original French Danse macabre or in the later B version.↩back to note source

521 What may availe magik natural. “Magik natural” refers to sorcery or divination designed to manipulate the forces of the natural world, such as planetary influence (as opposed to calling on supernatural forces such as demons).↩back to note source

529 Sir Curat. A curate is a parish priest, directly responsible for the spiritual welfare of his parishioners. Unlike the idealized Parson in the CT, the Curate appears to display the same greed and selfinterest that mark most of the ecclesiastical figures in this poem.↩back to note source

536 to eche labour dewe is the salarie. An allusion to 1 Corinthians 3:8: “Now that he planteth, and he that watereth, are one. And every man shall receive his own reward, according to his own labour.”↩back to note source

543 And for my shepe make a just rekenyng. The sheep are the people in the care of the Parson. See Matthew 18:12–14, Luke 15:3–7, and John 10:1–18, as well as John 21:17, when Jesus says to Peter, “feed my sheep.” Compare with Chaucer’s description of the virtuous Parson in the General Prologue to the CT I(A) 496–506.↩back to note source

561 Sir Cordeler. A cordeler is a Franciscan friar, so called for their practice of wearing a cord as a belt, in imitation of the order’s founder, St. Francis of Assisi.↩back to note source

574 nothing . . . that may fro Dethe defende. Proverbial. See Whiting D78.↩back to note source

584 Who lengest lyveth moost shal suffre woo. Proverbial. See Whiting L407.↩back to note source

596 Of benefices or some greet prebende. See note to line 313 above.↩back to note source

Before 601 Clerke. This character does not appear in the B version of the Dance of Death.↩back to note source

609 Ye that have lived longe in wildernesse. The Hermit, who has voluntarily left society to practice religious devotion, and the Child (see lines 577–92), who has not had time to be integrated into society, are the only two speakers who willingly accompany Death on his dance.↩back to note source

624 No man is riche that lackith suffisaunce. Proverbial. For an inversion, see Whiting S867.↩back to note source

Before 633 The Kyng ligging dead and eten of wormes. This stanza breaks the dialogic form of the preceding section of the poem. A similar stanza, with analogous heading, appears in Lydgate’s French source (Danse macabre, lines 519–26). Although the speaker is identified as a king, he also presents himself as a model for all estates, reinforcing the hierarchical structure of the poem.↩back to note source

633 Ye folke that lokyn upon this portrature. “Portrature” can refer to verbal or pictorial representation, but, in this case, it is evidently something that apparently directs readers to contemplate the accompanying images. This is an intriguing choice on Lydgate’s part, since none of the early manuscripts of Lydgate’s Dance include pictures, although the same injunction to look at the “pourtraiture” occurs in the French Danse at line 519. Interestingly, the B version replaces “portrature” with “scripture” (line 561), although it was this version that was painted at St. Paul’s Cathedral (see Introduction, pp. 15–17).↩back to note source

640 wormes food. Proverbial. See Whiting W675.↩back to note source

666 Not worde by worde but folwyng the substaunce. This commonplace discussion of best translation practices goes back to St. Jerome’s meditations on his work in translating the Latin Vulgate text of the Bible from its original Hebrew, which itself has precursors, as Rita Copeland argues, in Late Antique discussions of grammar and rhetoric by figures such as Cicero. See her Rhetoric, Hermeneutics, pp. 42–55.↩back to note source

669 Rude of langage (I was not born in Fraunce). Lydgate here takes a performative and conventional position of humility, making claims for the insufficiency or roughness of his work. Lydgate knew French (he made numerous translations from French beyond the Danse macabre), but here he contrasts the French of England with the higher-prestige French of France. Lydgate’s self-deprecating assessment of his Anglo-French recalls Chaucer’s caustic remarks about the Prioress in the General Prologue to the CT: “And Frenssh she spak ful faire and fetisly, / After the scole of Stratford atte Bowe, / For Frenssh of Parys was to hire unknowe” (CT I[A] 124–26). This is also a well-known posture of late medieval English writers seeking to emulate their French contemporaries: Chaucer similarly lamented his own lack of “suffisaunce” in treating the French poetic subject of the daisy in lines 66–67 of the F version of the Prologue to the Legend of Good Women (c. 1385–86), while Gower asks to be excused for his lack of “faconde” or “eloquence” in French due to his Englishness in the final lines (XVIII.24, trans. Yeager) of his Traitié pour essampler les amantz mariez (early 1390s).↩back to note source

672 Her corious metris in Englisshe to translate. “Meters” in this instance should be taken in the broad sense of ‘verses’ or ‘poems’, a usage typical of the late fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, especially in Lydgate. The MED defines “corious” as “carefully, skillfully, artistically, or elaborately designed or made; artistic, exquisite, fine; costly, sumptuous” (sense 2). Like Lydgate’s claim to be “rude of language,” this phrase is another example of a humility topos, often deployed with regard to translation in this period, as there is nothing especially “corious” about Lydgate’s source from the perspective of prosody. Written in octosyllabic eightline stanzas and ababbcbc rhyme, the Danse is typical of French poetry produced in the first half of the fifteenth century (for a good overview, see Laidlaw, “The Cent Balades”). If anything, Lydgate’s ability to maintain his source’s rhyme scheme and stanza length, albeit with a longer, decasyllabic line, testifies to his own “corious metre.” Compare Chaucer’s Complaint of Venus, in which he laments that “rym in Englissh hath such skarsete, / To folowe word by word the curiosite / Of Graunson, flour of hem that make in Fraunce” (lines 80–82: rhyme in English is so insufficient / to translate word by word the elegance / of [Othon de] Granson, chief of those who write poetry in France); notice Chaucer’s use of “curiosite” in line 81.↩back to note source