in the two sisters' forced cheerfulness by the bedside of the dying
Lazarus and their sorrow at his death--nor do these by any means exhaust
the number of favourable instances--there may be seen the basic
elements, as it were, which, more deftly handled and blended, gave to
the English stage the world's rarest gallery of noble women.

Darkness and grief are so woven into the substance of the Bible
narrative that we should indeed have been surprised if the tragic note
had not been sounded often throughout the play. That it could be sounded
well, too, will have been seen from various references and from the
Scene of Abraham's Sacrifice. Nevertheless, tragedy is a less
interesting, less original, less English element than the comedy which
pops up its head here, there, and everywhere. It is really a part of
that absence of dramatic rules already indicated, this easy conjunction
of tragedy and comedy in the same scene. English audiences never could
be persuaded to forgo their laugh. After all, it was near neighbour to
their tears throughout life; then why not on the stage? A funeral was
not the less a warning to the living because it was rounded off with a
feast. Nor was Jesus on the Cross robbed of any of the majesty and
silent eloquence of vicarious suffering by the vulgar levity of those
who bade him 'Take good eyd (_heed_) to oure corn, and chare (_scare_)
awey the crowe'. The strong sentiment of reverence set limits to the
application of this humour. Only minor characters were permitted to
express themselves in this way. The soldiers at the Sepulchre, the
Judaeans at the Cross, the 'detractors' in _Scene 14_, certain mocking
onlookers in _Scene 40_, these and others of similar stage rank spoke
the coarse jests that set free the laugh when tears were too near the
surface.--These common fellows, by the way, are the prototypes of the
familiar Citizens, Soldiers, Watch, of a later date: the Miracles were
fertile in 'originals'.--Some characters there were, however, more