Liturgical drama and the "School of Abelard".
Helinand of Froidment says that "a disciple of Abelard was my teacher, who instructed me from my youth: Ralph, an Englishman, known as the grammar master of the Cathedral of Beauvais, a man well versed in both secular and sacred letters" (Huius etiam Petri Abaelardi discipulus fuit magister meus, qui me docuit a puero, Radulfus, natione Anglicus, cognomento grammaticus ecclesie Belvacensis, vir tam in divinis quam in saecularibus litteris eruditus). Giraldus Cambrensis also speaks warmly of him, both as grammarian and as"having been the pre-eminent literary figure in our times" (in literatura nostris diebus precipuus erat). (4) Hilary, too, was one of Abelard's pupils: he seems to have been at the Paraclete School at the time of its closure in about 1126,but was probably a disciple of Abelard both long before and after this date. Ralph was younger and may have known Abelard ([dagger] 1142) only toward the end of the latter's life.
This being so, the most likely point of contact was Paris, where Abelard returned in 1132 or so, and probably finally left only in 1140. Many of the rhythms and literary devices seen in The Play of Daniel could plausibly be ascribed to Abelardian influence, but the presence in the conductus "Cum doctorum et magorum" of the striking phrase in vestitu deaurato (where it manifestly disturbs the cascaded rhyme-scheme) is a clinching factor: in Abelard's Hymn 94, one of his Sponsus compositions, the Bride is described in this precise form of words (rhymes--or lack of them, here indicated in bold text). (5) Abelard's influence is probably to be identified in the rhythms of "Rex, tua nolo munera" and so on, and possibly in some of the decasyllabics (though this was a rhythm that was coming into fashion elsewhere at the time, including in many liturgical dramas). In several numbers, unique to the Beauvais version of The Play of Daniel, there is the cascade rhyme that Abelard had embraced in his early lyrics; but this feature may not necessarily have derived from him, (6) for there is the possibility that "Gratuletur," the model for "Cum doctorum," might have had a technical influence upon Abelard himself. Cascade rhyme is also found, notably insistent, at "Ego mando" and the succeeding items, where it is echoed by the motivic musical technique. On the other hand, the rhyme-scheme of "Astra tenenti" though hardly consistent, is more probably derived from an estampie that provided its tune. (7)
Later in the drama, the phrase Hujus rei non sum reus, when Daniel is about to be cast to the lions, is a typical Abelardian pun (the apparent incongruity of this number has puzzled more than one critic, unaware of the humorous aspect enshrined in this quotation). The related phrase ut reus traditus reisjudicibus occurs in his Hymn 106, but the identical words are found in Hilary's "Lingua mendax" in the Carmina Burana (CB 117--and he plays on the words in another line by reordering them non sum reus hujus rei); it is easy to imagine Abelard using them in an orotund strut around the lecture room, rhetorically defending himself against his opponents: this might have been a characteristic phrase that stuck in the minds of his pupils. (8)
It seems, therefore, that the prototype Daniel play posited earlier was known in the circle of Abelard, together with other materials such as the Laon version of Jubilemus//Resonet (bearing in mind that Abelard was at Laon before coming to Notre Dame) (9) and copies of several other musical items, among which were those mentioned in previous paragraphs. It may be surmised that Ralph and Hilary had access to this collection at different times and used material from it as the starting point for their own, very different, dramas; Hilary at Angers or Orleans, Ralph at Beauvais. Hilary's was written with the aid of the collaborators mentioned in the MS that collects most of his works, (10) whereas Ralph encouraged his own pupils to contribute to the work to the extent that they could call it their own, yet guiding their enthusiasm so that it could be harnessed in the service of his master plan.
This collaboration is implied in the prologue, which states that the play est inventus, that is to say it had been "found" rather than "invented" de novo in our sense, by the juventus, the boys of the Song School. (11) There was probably a less sophisticated play, perhaps an ordo prophetarum, in use at Beauvais when Ralph arrived there. This was gradually rewritten, perhaps between the twenty years spanned by 1140-60 or so between Ralph's arrival and the probable date of the play as we now have it. The Latinate skills of his pupils are shown off in the very fair metrical Adonics of "Astra tenenti" set, as we have seen, to what appears to be the tune of an estampie, and therefore sung rhythmically rather than metrically. Other examples of their displays of metrical prowess are "Tene putas, Daniel": here again, it cannot have been sung according to its metric, for its tune is that of "Salve festa dies" in elegiacs, onto which have been grafted hexameters; moreover, the next item ("Angelicum solita"), though hexametric, is set to the St. Nicholas prosa "Sospitati dedit egros." These vacillations between metric and rhythmic were hardly novel, however, for schoolboys were used to reciting the Asclepiadics of Horace's "Maecenas atavis" to the tune to which "O Roma nobilis" was also sung (having the same rhythm as Abelard's "O quanta qualia" and the "Audite principes" of our Play of Daniel). (12)
The Beauvais Play of Daniel also helps us to understand the "goliardic" transmission of the liturgical dramas, for which a better term would be Harrison's paraliturgical; for these dramas were not part of the liturgy proper; nor did they come to each place by the normal liturgical route. The music of "Salve festa dies" that was adapted to "Tene putas" is not that of the Beauvais Circumcision liturgy (see fol. 2 of the Daniel MS), (13) which varies substantially from the Play of Daniel version. Again, the quotation from the hymn"Nuntium vobis" at the end of the drama has a melody that differs from the version that was sung liturgically at Beauvais (fol. 37 (r-v) of the MS). So these adaptations were made, not from the usage proper to the place, but from tunes borrowed from elsewhere, sometimes from other dramas ("Nuntium vobis" ended many Christmas and Epiphany plays). (14)
This paraliturgical repertory was transmitted in a different way from the music of the liturgy itself: it was part of the international currency of those whom we now call goliards, the wandering scholars whose stock-in-trade was as much scurrilous parody (or worse), as liturgical drama, the paraliturgical verses of the Circumcision festivities, and the like. By the same token, the Dublin Visitatio sepulchri and the Fleury St. Paul dramas betray German Vorlagen (though not necessarily originals). This is detectable in the distinctive melodic pattern (D)ABA in Italian, French and British chant dialects (often with a B flat) which is transformed into (D)ACA in chant dialects reflecting the German sphere of influence. (15) So when we see the melodic phrases corresponding with the latter dialect in the Dublin and Fleury plays mentioned, it is clear that the transmission of the dramas transcended geographical boundaries and liturgical propriety, betraying dissemination by the "wandering scholars" whose notoriety was not always deserved.
The international background of goliardic songs and paraliturgical compositions also warns us of the futility of trying to pronounce Latin according to habits of a particular time and place, be it Fleury, Dublin, or Trier; or the Beauvais in the mid-twelfth century: the Latin of the goliards knew no national boundaries and Ralph, an Englishman, was a pupil of Abelard, Breton born of Poitevin stock.
When we turn to the Easter dramas we are confronted by Heloise, now known to have been a poet and musician in her own right, and more of an intellectual partner of Abelard than an epigone. The reasons for supposing that she wrote two such dramas are developed elsewhere. (16) What I have assumed to be her earlier extant effort (though she may have written a lost Lazarus drama, and possibly one on the Sponsus theme) might have been called "The Gardener" (Ortulanus): it begins strikingly with a scene taking its cue from the Song of Songs, whose lines she later developed as a sequence, "Epithalamica." It was not a masterpiece, but it did employ another bold innovation: the use of "Dic nobis, Maria" from the sequence "Victime paschali" put into the mouths of the disciples seeking the body of Jesus. (17) Her Three Marys at the Sepulchre was a more mature work and versions of it circulated widely, one forming the basis of the Carmina Burana Passion Play. The songs in the Carmina Burana by Heloise and Abelard, often widely influential, are mostly outside the scope of this article, but there is a decidedly backhanded compliment to Heloise in the CB Passion Play: not only are lines (and music) from her own Three Marys drama quoted, but one of her love songs for Abelard seems to be cruelly counterfeited in this "tart on the town" episode, which takes up a great deal of that play's performing time. The Magdalen who sings the long "Mundi delectatio," which I have conjectured was sung to the tune of her "Omnia sol temperat" is very likely a caricature of Heloise herself, who seems to have been cast as an Awful Warning: the Austin Monks of the Tyrol used this scene to emphasize the perils of becoming besotted with such a woman, as was the fate of the famous Abelard at the hands of her whom they saw as his own Magdalen. (18)
A couple of derivatives of this play (Vienna, etc.) survive, but these, in common with most of the early extant descendants of Heloise's drama, are actually versions of parts of both her plays run into one, as seen in the Tours drama and another, closely related, translated into French for the well-to-do nuns of Origny. Soon, one or more of her ideas were incorporated into other Easter plays to the extent that it became a commonplace to hear the "Dic nobis, Maria" as part of the drama, so commonplace, indeed, that it is hard to imagine that this was once an innovation on the part of Heloise. Her "Epithalamica" sequence has already been noted as being linked with one of her dramas. Her elegy in sequence form on the death of Abelard begins "De profundis ad te clamantium." This opening is quoted from a well-known melody that she may have used in an earlier work about Lazarus--it is a tune also found in Fleury; and she also quotes a melody from one of Abelard's own planctus. These illustrate another "goliardic" trait, the habit of weaving together what we would call borrowed melodic phrases, but what they would have regarded as common currency. So it should not be a surprise to hear in "Virgines caste," another of her sequences, several phrases that are to be found also in the Beauvais Play of Daniel: these are not quotations so much as stock formulas that might be called into service in various kinds of compositions.
Not only were melodic phases freely borrowed (there are plenty of these that can be heard spreading from one liturgical drama, such as The Play of Daniel, to another) but so were rhythmic patterns. Here we tread on stony ground, for there is a sharp divide between the paths of those who believe that medieval monody (secular songs and the types of lyrics under discussion) was sung like plainchant, and those who think it was performed rhythmically. The former often marshal a curious argument, that because the early monodic sources did not indicate any rhythm, no rhythm was therefore intended. Were this to be of any validity, we should have to admit that tunes and chants written in neums (e.g., the so-called "adiastematic" notation seen in the Carmina Burana) were more or less tuneless, for they do not tell us directly of the melodic details. Of course, such neumatic sources are routinely interpreted by reference to later diastematic sources, but should a similar comparative method be used to interpret the rhythmic patterns of unmeasured sources (trobador or trouvere songs, or the Latin songs of the Carmina Burana), we are told that the later, measured, sources "imposed" rhythms on songs hitherto innocent of such affronts. This argument is still apparently taken seriously: as I pointed out some time ago, the application of the Byzantine accents to Greek, or the addition of the Masoretic pointing to Hebrew, would have to be entirely dismissed; for by the same token it would have to be assumed that the tonic accents were a later "imposition" on Greek (perversely, at a time when they were decaying into stress accents) as were vowels on an originally vowelless Hebrew. (19)
True, the disentangling of the rhythmic tradition is not easy: a simplistic notion of the close way "the rhythms fitted the words" is not borne out by the measured sources which display various traditions, many of which had widely differing attitudes to fitting the accents of words with the rhythm of the music. Some of these show that a considerable amount of what looks like accentual clash was typical until the cadence; others show that even this cadence was not inviolate from anaclasis; still others show that the rhythmic patterns of the tune resolved such clashes by musical means. Moreover, the "rhythmic modes" used by comparatively late sine littera notation were merely an epitome of the many rhythmic patterns used, but not notated, in much earlier cure littera music: as is evident from measured notation such as that of the Cantigas of Alfonso el Sabio (CSM), the Roman de Fauvel, and later sources of Philip the Chancellor's monodies, there were at least a couple of other "rhythmic modes" current, and many other patterns that did not fall into the "modal" system as exemplified by polyphonic sources. (20) It must also be made clear that the measured sources instanced were hardly "Franconian" or "pre-Franconian": the idea that Iberian or English scribes had the latest manuals before them as though they were motor mechanics from Cologne is not inherently plausible.
Our main problem is that (as with the neumatic sources) we are distanced from the living tradition and are therefore not party to contemporary conventions and the common knowledge of the period. Nevertheless, it seems that there were occasions when the scribes were aware that certain conventions might be overlooked in some instances: this is where the notation of the Daniel MS is particularly fascinating. It is by no means the first to use doubled notes (that is, where one of the same pitch follows closely upon another, pressus fashion) to indicate lengthening, nor indeed to employ liquescent neums such as the cephalicus (which later atrophied completely to form a long note that in later English was called the "strene"); but the amount of such indications in the later repertory of the MS (not only in The Play of Daniel) is remarkable and seems to indicate that the School of Abelard was in the vanguard of developments which eventually would lead to notational clarity in the matter of rhythm (for other sources seemingly associated with the School evince similar characteristics).
This is not the place to make detailed observations; in any event, much more work is needed on the subject; but the three-voice version of "Sanctorum meritis" in the Daniel MS (21) is of particular note. As at Worcester, where there is a comparable version of the tune, this has doubled notes which have a clear rhythmic significance. That the rhythm is repetitive (so-called "mode 4" but really an upbeat version of "mode 3") is fortified by the versions of "Procurans omnium" and "Purgator omnium," which have voice-exchange at each modern bar (that is, each repetition of the pattern). The Beauvais setting merely has doubled notes, but some of the comparable three-part congeners (and once in Beauvais) have the second of the doubled notes as a liquescent.
The presence of liquescents, especially in The Play of Daniel itself, raises another problem--or set of problems. We know that the cephalicus started life as a liquescent neum, its second element emphasizing the pronunciation of a doubled consonant or the like (as a sernivocalis), but it is not always clear as to whether this meaning still obtains, or the second note is merely a species of fractio modi, or whether the symbol has atrophied to its later meaning as a longer note. Although the first of these possibilities is feasible in many instances in the Play, it is unlikely in many others, and denied in significant instances by phonological exigencies of the text. Parallels often indicate, however, that it is one way of indicating fractio modi (a convenient misnomer), but equally, many parallels indicate that only one note, presumably a long, is to be read. (22)
A further complication (leaving aside whether the occasional epiphonus is to be read as an atrophied liquescent) is that single liquescents (that is, the note-form representing a single note only, but still calling attention to a semivocalis pronunciation) are often, or even largely, indistinguishable from the cephalicus. Again, parallels elucidate, as for example in the Rex, in eternum ... (the syllable in question is marked in bold) motive that recurs as a species of Leitmotif: this phrase is written without any liquescent at its third appearance (before "Ut scribentis"--also subsequently, with one exception), whereas the first occurrence seems to carry a one-note liquescent, the second (in common with one later appearance) a cephalicus. The presumption here is that all occurrences of the motive should be the same. (23)
Unfortunately, there are many instances where the editor has to steer between the Scylla of absolute consistency in his readings and the Charybdis that assumes that the MS offers variant versions of certain melodic figures. "Rex, tua nolo munera" is a typical instance: here, I have wavered in the new edition between regarding the apparent cephalicus as indicating a long note, yet elsewhere as representing two notes. Although this exercise of editorial subjectivity is unsatisfactory, there is one spectacular instance where it is possible to be entirely consistent, in the conductus "Cum doctorum." This, as we have seen, has a specific Abelardian connexion, which might reasonably be assumed also in regard to its notation. Here, entirely regularly, there are doubled notes of two types: the pressus type occurs in the middle of figures such as FEED (flexa+flexa), and other figures where the second, doubled, note at cadential (e.g. FEDD) and other instances (GAGG) is clearly a single-note liquescent, irrespective of phonological considerations. Elsewhere in this conductus, however, there are uses of the cephalicus, with or without phonological justification, indicating fractio modi. These features encourage a principally trochaic rhythm enlivened with the Anacreontic rhythm seen in many measured sources of mediaeval and later music, and already noted in relation to CSM 213.
If these somewhat sporadic notational developments can be associated with the School of Abelard, they seem to have come to the fore after Heloise's association with the School. Her plays betray no rhythmic hints in the transmission that we owe to their Catalan scribe; nor do her three sequences that are variously found in French and Swiss MSS. The reason for her works (and indeed Abelard's "O quanta qualia") occurring in Swiss sources is very likely to be associated with their son Astralabe's move thence as a Cistercian abbot. Moreover, his becoming a Cistercian against the entreaties of his father had an influence on many of the extant sources of his parents' music. "O quanta qualia" was "modalized" in conformity with Cistercian doctrine, as was Heloise's "Epithalamica" (though its unmodalized form, a precursor of which as also seen in the Catalan source of one of her plays, is preserved in the much later transmission from Le Puy). But such subjects must be left aside for the moment.
In sum, the influence of Heloise on the tradition of the Easter plays was notable and pervasive; as interesting, but less influential historically, was the somewhat negative influence on the Easter plays of the Carmina Burana and related dramas; yet from the modern point of view, Abelard's influence on The Play of Daniel, albeit indirect, was felicitous, for this is the greatest of the dramas of this genre to survive into modern times.
Aberystwyth University, and St Peter's College, Oxford
(1) Hereafter, the quotation marks are removed from this term for convenience, and it is simply referred to as School. For more details about The Play of Daniel, see my new edition published by the Plainsong and Mediaeval Music Society (Westhumble, Surrey, 2008).
(2) Peter Dronke, Nine Medieval Latin Plays (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994), 119, argues for the priority of Hilary, as do other authors, partly on the grounds that Hilary's drama is less accomplished than its Beauvais counterpart; Wilhelm Meyer (Fragmenta Burana [Gottingen, 1901], 57) and Bulst (Walther Bulst and M. L. Bulst-Thiele, Hilarii Aureliensis, Versus et Ludi ... [Leiden: Brill, 1989], 9-15), argued the opposite.
(3) The likelihood of Berengar being Abelard's cousin is discussed by Brenda Cook in The Poetic and Musical Legacy of Heloise and Abelard, ed. Marc Stewart and David Wulstan (Westhumble, Surrey: PMMS; Ottawa: IMM, 2005) (henceforth PMLHA), 143-47. Wilhelm Meyer (Gesammelte Abhandlungen (Berlin: Weidmannsche Buchhandlung, 1905), I, 327, showed that two of the Carmina Burana drinking songs (CB 196 and 200) are parodies of items seen in The Play of Daniel, both of which ("Jubilemus regi nostro" and "Congaudentes") quote directly from the Beauvais play and have no parallels in the Hilary drama. See PMLHA, 127-28, and David Wulstan, The Emperor's Old Clothes (Ottawa: Institute of Mediaeval Music, 2001--henceforth, TEOC), 206-13.
(4) See R. W. Hunt, "Studies in Priscian in the Twelfth century II: The School of Ralph of Beauvais," Mediaeval and Renaissance Studies 2 (1950): 1-56 (at 11-12) for these quotations and other matters concerning Ralph.
(5) This phrase was borrowed by Abelard from Ps. 45 (44, Latin), but it is unlikely that a "prose" text would have been directly incorporated from the psalm by Ralph into his rhythmic composition.
(6) The rhyme at cordis otisa- que sonoris, is, however, typically Abelardian: compare with ham propinqua//floret in qua in "Hebet sidus" (also notable for its cascade rhymes).
(7) Dronke's edition of The Play of Daniel (and indeed of the other plays in his collection--see n. 2, above) suffers partly from a lack of knowledge of the music: his colometry for such items as "Solvitur in libro Salomonis" and "Reges vasa" is decidedly eccentric, as are his proposed transpositions of words in "Astra tenenti" and elsewhere. His editing of the Sponsus drama is unfortunate, as are his transcriptions of the Vich and Carmina Burana plays. The latter suffer not only from this aspect but from his assumptions that the locations of the MSS of the plays are a direct guide to their authorship (quite apart from the Heloise connections of which would understandably have been unknown to him. See PMLHA, passim.
(8) Abelard was an atrocious punster, using doubles entendres even in solemn moments (see PMLHA, 129 n. 32). It is not entirely impossible that Ralph followed in his footsteps, so that lines such as 'testes falsos comprobasti' (a sore difficulty in rehearsal for many of us modern performers) may have been a deliberate challenge for the Beauvais participants not to "corpse"
(9) As established by David Hiley (1993--see TEOC, 208).
(10) Paris, Bibliotheque nationale de France, lat. 11331, fols. 14v-16r.
(11) The same sense obtains in the epithets "trobador" and "trouvere" who found their lyrics.
(12) See TEOC, 345-49. It is worth noting that in "Astra tenenti" the "writing on the wall" is referred to as "gram[m]ate dextre" a nod and a Greek flourish toward the boys' Grammar Master. The rhyme-schemes of the component stanzas of this number vary so wildly that it seems possible that each boy contributed a different portion.
(13) London, BL Egerton MS 2615, hereafter the Daniel MS.
(14) Guy de Cherlieu (it will shortly be confirmed that he is the same person as Guy de l'Eu), is now known to be the author of the tract on the revision of the Cistercian chant. In it, he specifically mentions Beauvais at the end of his tirade: "take the Rheims antiphoner and compare it with that of Beauvais or Amiens, or the antiphoner of Soissons, more or less next door: if you find a similarity, say Thanks be to God!" (see F. J. Guentner, Epistola S. Bernardi ... Corpus Scriptorum de Musica 24 (Middleton, Wis.: American Institute of Musicology, 1974), 40 (my translation).
(15) See TEOC, 339-30.
(16) See PMLHA, chap. 6.
(17) If she were not the innovator, then hers is the first extant play, by some margin, to use this device.
(18) This song (CB 136) is ascribed to Heloise by John O. Ward: see PMLHA, 122-23. The rest of the speculation is mine, including (PMLHA, 126-27) that Abelard's former pupil Otto of Friesing, as abbot of nearby Klosterueuburg might have been the instigator of the Awful Warning and, as Frederick Barbarossa's nephew, might have been responsible for the transmission of a Palermo Visitatio which has at least one surprisingly close affinity with its model in Heloise's Gardener drama. It was possibly at Klosterneuburg where Walter von der Vogelweide (whose verses--a few being excerpted in the Carmina Burana--were manifestly influenced by both Heloise and Abelard) saw their lyrics on which he modeled his own. (PMLHA, 38-39 and 125).
(19) See "Correspondence", Music and Letters 81 (2000): 170-71. Curiously, many metricians dealing with classical Greek (and Latin) drag their feet, as it were, in their unwillingness to admit that meter had anything to do with what we would call regular rhythm; similarly, meter in Hebrew poetry is often denied, despite much evidence to the contrary. As with the same reluctance in connection with Old English meter, the problematic nature of the question leads to the attitude that it is insoluble. This disinclination borders on feeble-mindedness: surely problems are a challenge rather than a defeat; instead of failing to confront the evidence, even if sometimes apparently contradictory, we should endeavor to do battle with it. I am not saying the Masoretic pointing was necessarily correct, simply that it was either largely or at least a reasonable representative of an old tradition; in any event, the vocalization of such Semitic languages as were routinely written consonantally was part and parcel of their morphology, more so than many a language written alphabetically.
As to medieval Latin, there is a consistent misprision, as exemplified in the unfortunately influential writings of John Stevens and others, that "rhythmic" was a matter of the number of syllables in the line. This, rather than taking the obvious connotation of the word, is due to an ignorance of the significance of Latin numerus. The distinction between "meter" and "rhythm" is perfectly clear in classical Greek, but the use of numerus by Latin writers (Cicero, Vergil, and so on, as well as the theorists) as an equivalent of the Greek word rhythmos, was a potential pitfall into which many modern writers have duly tripped. Phrases such as numerus syllabarum do not refer to the number of syllables but to their rhythm, a fundamental misunderstanding that could not have occurred if Cicero and other classical authors had been read. See TEOC, 173-79.
(20) Examples are iambo-trochaic rhythm (mentioned by some theorists as "mode 7") the tribrachic-trochaic of CSM 139, which is the presumable rhythm of 'Astra tenent', and the Anacreontic CSM 213 (see "Cum doctorum" discussed later). Contrary examples, however, are the absence of "mode 5" patterns equivalent to continuous triplet longs (which are often favored by modern transcribers either explicitly or by implication); also the duplet-time patterns which I unadvisedly espoused in the earlier edition of The Play of Daniel (and which others have followed, either directly, or in other numbers of the Play). Although there are duplet patterns in the CSM, they are comparatively rare, and also of a particular cast (see TEOC, 51-52).
(21) Fol. 76v. See TEOC, 358-64, which see for further references. Note, however, the discussion in PMLHA, 149-52, where I have changed my views on the relationship of the Blondel lyric and its presumed contrafactions.
(22) This is clearly illustrated by the parallel between the play's "Nuntium vobis" (apparent cephalicus?--see TEOC, 353) and that of the Daniel MS fols. 37r-v. The latter has one note only, no liquescent. As to "fractio modi," in "Jubilemus regi nostro" the first EDE on regnat is expressed as a cephalicus, legitimately indicating a liquescent. Subsequent occurrences of the same figure (flexa, no liquescents, even on triumphans) confirm the two-note reading.
(23) See TEOC (331) for facsimiles of the whole sequence of acclamations, and also (332) its source in "Fulgens preclara" (where the Winchester symbol is clearly a cephalicus--whose meaning in this context was atrophying by the time of The Play of Daniel). The difficulty of distinguishing between a virga and a cephalicus, in this MS and sometimes elsewhere, should also be mentioned. Even where it seems that the scribe does distinguish between these two or between other similar forms, there is the possibility that his exemplar was either unclear or misinterpreted.
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|Date:||Sep 22, 2008|
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